Visiting Greece II

After Athens, AD and I decided to wander around on two islands, Santorini and Paros. Santorini is a volcanic island in the shape of a crescent moon. The sand on the beaches is black, which is very impressive. It's also one of the most touristy places in Greece, so it was quite a feat to get it relatively free from visitors, May being the beginning of the season.

AD and I are both huge eaters, and we ate our way through Santorini. One evening, I slipped on a pretty dress, AD put on a shirt and we went to an excellent and very chic restaurant, which was entirely empty! New food crush: beetroot salad with yogurt ice-cream on top. Amazing.

So what did we do on the islands? We spent a little time on beaches...but not that much. We walked a lot, inhaling the soft, almost sugary smell of fig trees. We rented a quad bike and wandered around the coasts. We climbed up black volcanic rocks and ingested a huge amount of olive oil.

I loved Greece. Before I left, I was pretty nervous. It was my first trip with my boyfriend and we've been dating for six months-it's all very new and freshly painted still, and I was afraid a whole week of twenty-four/seven exposure to Sara would drive anyone mad. But it was wonderful. Even when I got earache on the plane coming home and dragged my suitcase through a rain storm to get home, before preparing for a gruelling week of hellish exams, it was so worth it. I'll never forget the colour of the sunsets, or the way I could feel the past come back to life around me.

Now that I'm preparing for new adventures in foreign countries, I'm thankful I had a true week of holiday, with sunburns, giggles and yogurt ice-cream.

A few snapshots, mostly taken by AD, so they look much better than usual!





Beautiful Santorini and its ridiculously photogenic troglodyte houses...


Enjoying the black sand beach with my partner in crime...


Looking ridiculous with my Birkenstock sandles on our vehicle.


Drying octopii. The fishermen bash them first before hanging them out in the sun. I was both repelled and fascinated by them.

Visiting Athens (Greece, I)

I've decided to start the travelogue with our first few days in Athens. We booked our tickets ages before the trip but then didn't bother to organize anything until our arrival in Greece started looming in the horizon. We booked hotels on the internet, vastly helped by comments on the different travel websites, and just went there, thinking we would play it by ear.

Boy did this plan work.

To start, I have to thank A.D, my tireless GPS and restaurant finder extraordinaire. He never gets lost. He never gets confused. He is always hilarious and entertaining, even on a night ferry when you have earache and want to kill everyone, especially the dehumanized ferry voices telling you to RELAX ON THE FERRY PLEASE.

Ahem.

Back to Athens. So the plan was 2 and 1/2 days there. And the plan worked amazingly well.

We went to a nice hotel near the centre of the capital and decided after a quick change of clothes (huge change of temperature!) to go visit. We went on top of one of the small mountains and saw the wonderful view there, I was quite enamoured.

As I wrote a few days ago, I became very emotional in Greece. I love ruins and ancient history, and visiting all the places I had read so much about...

For some reason I packed a lot of dresses. I don't wear them so often, but I was on holiday!



Love turtles. Their adorably slow and awkward gait touch me and I always feel like stroking their prehistoric heads before they slowly retreat.

This handsome fellow was later rejoined by his wife and child. A.D didn't feel like taking his giant camera out though, but they looked very comfy next to the Dyonesian temple.





This is the theatre where Sophocles, Euripides and Eschylus performed their plays. I may have squealed loudly when I saw it.


This is the agora, which was described in my guide book as "a badly organized, messy area where Ancient Greeks met to discuss political affairs". Harsh!



Travelling with a biologist=ant pictures. You don't want to know how many Hellenic Ants I now have on my computer.

The Acropolis was wonderful, but the museum was very boring. Most of the frieze remaining on the Temple was "bought" by Lord Elgin in 1805 and brought to England, so all the movies in the museum kept mocking the British. All the red lobsterish English people looked even more lobsterish as they listened to a broad Texan accent discussing Corinthian columns.

In the Acropolis museum, I took a few pictures of Hellenic art.

I especially like this pervy showing.



This jockey riding a horse is disturbing, but amazingly graceful, wouldn't you agree?



Not many tourists (it's just beginning to be tourist season at the moment) and so much fun. We had lavish dinners and amazing ice creams, oh and more tomorrow.

Back from Greece

When I was a little girl, my mother woud tell me and my sister stories from Greek mythology. I grew up with Gods and Goddesses who behaved very badly indeed (almost every story about a nymph starts with her rape). Visiting Greece has always been one of my dreams, mostly because of this tradition.

I have so much to tell. I've come down with terrible earache and sickness, and I'm overwhelmed with work, but as soon as my boyfriend sends me some pictures, I'll do a nice travel diary.

Walking up to the Acropolis...Drinking cocktails above the Santorini Caldera...Driving a scooter around Paros with sun-burns on my shoulders...Swimming in the Aegean sea...

It was an amazing week.

Back from the USA!

Because I watched the Cartoon Network as a child in Holland, these vitamins completely won me over.
I <3 Northampton.

I had a wonderful time in America. First of all, I have to say that I love America, I love how completely gargatuan everything is, I love how junky the junk food is, I love how beautiful the country is, I love how nice everyone is. It's perfect. I'm very happy living in Europe, but whenever I go back to the USA I am struck anew by the sheer scale of everything-in a good way.

So I went to visit my aunt and my sister, and I got to visit two college campuses (or should it be campi? Whatever, as any good Freshman would say), Bard College and Smith College.

I'll focus on Smith College because I lived there! For three whole days!

The American Way of Education is just amazing. From the libraries to the gym facilities, to the splendiferous campus, it's just NOT THE SAME THING AS IN FRANCE. The incredible lavishness of it all...Anyway, I intend to talk about this some more, when I'm not ridden with jetlag.

Travels, tips and nudity

It's good to be back. You know you've been a bad, bad blogger when your sister tells you that you're not updating enough :)

I've been reading everybody's blogs but much too stressed out to write anything. I am very superstitious and am always afraid to jinx my good news until it's a hundred percent sure... But now I'm ready.

Here's my good news: I got an internship in Berlin, working for a BIG COMPANY, and I'll be doing environmental lobbying. In German. Pray for me. I will be there from July to early November, and I am stoked! I love Berlin more than I can tell, and I can't wait to rent a cosy flat and work and read and write my Masters on the weekend and go to concerts and take trains to Leipzig and Dresden, and eat masses of pastry. By the way, I will have in all probability enough room on my couch and in the aforementionned flat for visitors, so if anyone wants to spend time in Berlin, email me!
Ahem.

This brings me to my first request: does anyone have any advice on how to dress corporate in the summer? I am the everlasting student, so while my cupboards groan with the weight of a thousand witty T-shirts and ratty jeans, I do not seem to own anything that screams SERIOUS WORKER HERE! WATCH ME LOBBY, GIRLS AND BOYS!

Here comes my second request: I will be going to America on the 25th of April to visit my sister and family. I will be staying there for a measly 6 days, because my university is a pain. I will be staying in Boston for a couple of days, and then going off to Northampton. My sister will take care of the Northampton bit, but if anyone has a wonderful tip about a place I should see in Boston, send it in.

Life is busy. Apart from writing letters to big companies in Germany hoping they would want me and my passionate belief in wildlife conservation, I have been working and working. After my uni term is finished, I have to write and deliver a paper for my other Masters diploma and it will be gruelling work as well. So I have decided that I will only have one week of real holiday this summer, beginning of June. The boyfriend and I are trying to organize it, but since he is going to Brazil (jealous), Italy (ditto) and probably a million other places as well, it's a bit complicated. So far we want to go to Greece. And yes you will get postcards.

In the past month I have also done a naked reading for a squatters' happening, written my first international law essay and ran a lot.

The naked reading was one of the most bizarre things ever. A girl in my class, M, is currently living in a squat next to my parents' house, a very posh neighbourhood. It's a huge empty building, with architects and students living in each flat. No hot water and they steal the electricity from the un-thrilled neighbours. They are constantly being threatened with eviction, and since the rents in Paris are astronomical and the lodging situation dire, they decided to stage a big happening to raise awareness about their story. M asked me if I would participate in her "naked reading". At first I was curious why she picked me from all the other people in the class. I found the concept intriguing: we would be in one of the bathrooms in the building, and while two of the girls would take a bath, I would read texts out loud. I like reading out loud. So I accepted.
As I arrived in the squat, I realized that there were a lot of people around. Suddenly being naked in front of an audience didn't feel so carefree and easy. And then I met the owner of the bathroom, who would be taking a bath with M, and she smiled at me. She was stunningly beautiful, in a goth way. As I took in her flawless face with its vivid eye makeup, she whispered: "Do you mind if I wash my hair? I'm covered in sperm."

From then on I felt quite comfortable. We made tea, and then took our clothes off. A curtain separated us from the crowd. They could have a glimpse of us, but mostly they could hear my voice, the soft splashing of the water, and the giggles we shared. Anyway, I was fascinated by the reactions our happening provoked. The men were shy, but many women came to talk to us, and sometimes took their clothes off too, sitting on the warm tile floor.

Some women told me they missed a sense of community between other women and themselves. Some women told me that they hadn't felt so peaceful in a long time. It was quite lovely.. We felt free to be who we were: young, old, fat, flawed, thin, muscular. No one was judging. It felt as if we had created an instant community of acceptance just by facing the gaze of others and being brave enough to put ourselves at risk.

It was a bit like blogging.

Cambridge and London (snippets)

Hello Cambridge! you are so pretty. Let me take somber and depressing snapshots of you.

What can I say, I love food, and I love sweets, so instead of taking nice pictures of buildings, I took pictures of the fudge shop.

Cambridge, the Bridge of Sighs.

So I'm in the Eurostar station, coming home after a lot of work, and some fun too. I went to London to do library research in the Quaker library, which is amazingly quaint, filled with sweet and insane people doing research as well, and filled with the rythmic sound of people turning pages at the same time. The way I like it, baby. And in the evening I have nice dinners with friends who bore with my endless prattling. When you spend 7 hours a day writing, you feel loquacious, you really do. You also seem to think that your arcane subject is FASCINATING. I apologize to my friends, but that's what you risk when you get yourself an over-enthusiastic multitasker pal.

But it wasn't all work. I popped into Cambridge to spend the weekend with my friends N and Am, cuddled baby Sym, ate so much food (damn those triple chocolate butter Belgian biscuits from Sainsbury's) and slept. I needed a break. And my friends made me feel like a Wonderful Butter Biscuit of a Girl.

Those of you who've exchanged emails would have an inkling about why I like anything Holmes. Inside joke!

Can you tell I'm a bit frantic/happy? The internet connection here is prehistoric so expect more pictures at a later date. I'm crossing the Channel back to classes and WORKWORKWORK, but all in all, I feel regenerated. It's all in the fudge, really.

I need...

I need a holiday a vacation a minibreak you name it.

I need a long walk in the mountains, with a backpack, a tent and a big crusty loaf of bread wrapped in yesterday's newspaper, a hunk of cheese, one of those thick pale yellow Dutch cheeses, and lots of water.

I need the sound of rocks and pebbles rollicking down hill under my shoes, the smell of trees and soft crushed green grass, and the feel of bark against my cheek when I rest in the shade, swallowing my meal slowly, enjoying the sunset.

I need a night alone, under the stars, thinking of friends and fun times and all the wonderful things of the world. I'll hear strange noises and won't worry, because the air is thick and sweet and summery, and my heart is content.

And I need to go home with scratches all over my ankles, a bad sunburn on my nape, a few scribbles in my diary, a few underexposed pictures taken with my camera, stopping by at the newsagent in the station to get some chocolate for breakfast.

This summer, please.

Paris-London

Only four more days of this exam hell. I'm heading off to London afterwards to go do research in the Quaker library and I'm pretty excited. I like going to foreign cities on my own and take in things at my own rythmn.

I already have a few postcard recipients lined up, but if you're like me, you enjoy getting things in the mail that aren't bills, right? So if you would like a postcard from London, please tell me and I'll email you to get your address. I love writing to people! Maybe we could start a blogger postcard club.

Fire over Dillenburg!

A tale of two cities.





Look who's in Dillenburg, looking refreshed and not at all under the weather? 'Tis I,by Jove.


So I went, I saw and I conquered.
Yeah, my train was late, I was exhausted, but it was still pretty funny. I went back to my workcamp site from this summer to see the musical the town wrote, composed and staged: Feuer über Dillenburg.
Yup, it rocked.

They did an amazing job, working their arsches off for three years and rehearsing into madness; no one was a professional, the orchestra was the regional youth formation, the actors were local talents etc.
I was super proud and moved.
My friend Tosca (who's 14 BTW) was a dancer. I took a picture of her with Armin, who played the French bad guy.
Armin, Tosca und Annie. Is that a Napoleon look-a-like or have I stumbled into a wax museum?
Also Tosca danced as an evil gypsy, while looking like a German milkmaid.

Then I went to the afterparty. Ach du meine Güte. It was wild! So imagine a bunch of drunk German teenagers in a gym gyrating to Britney and David Guetta. Yup.
Here we have the before...Look at those innocent miens, and one of them teenagers is wearing a suit. I mean, really?
That tie would soon end up being used as a harness.
Unfortunately, I was too busy getting deaf next to the boom box to take a pic.
Then it got OUT OF CONTROL.








Look at the debauchery. Dancing and drinking.























One guy pictured here took a mad fancy to me and got some good lines. (He was seventeen).
My favourite: "My braces are being removed next week, let's celebrate by kissing."
How sweet. He did invite me for a slow dance, which was a first. He was much taller than me, and he stroked my hair and told me I was the prettiest girl in the room. Also that it was wonderful to meet a girl who had good conversational skills. Then he gazed at me romantically and asked me if I wanted apple juice or to be kissed. SMOOTH. I chose Apferschorle. Underage men are fun, but juice is wonderful.

After narrowly avoiding being mauled by the jailbait in the room, Tosca and I went to bed at five in the morning. Shocking.
We had coffee next day with Tobias and his girlfriend, both were super friendly and nice. Tobias taught me how to drive this summer.























Tobias, GF and Tosca





Neun und Neunzig Luftballoons of WIN. Bikers!

Then I went home. Oh Dillenburg, you are endlessly surreal.

Musing on age

Waouh, I did have a long vacation from internet and everything. I was in Germany in a work camp near Frankfurt, enjoying the delights of carting around piles of dirt while trying to get my German level up. I was sleeping in a tent, on hay (to which I am allergic), and jogging every morning. I ate loads of food. All in all, a good vacation.

The topic that most occupied my mind, though, was the subject of age. I was among the eldest people in the camp, most were around 18/19, with our youngest at 16. I am 23. I have never thought of myself as old or venerable in the slightest. In fact, after the reeling bruising reality of my breakup, I had not felt such a teenagerish rush of feelings, of resentment, of bad pop music bolstering or upsetting my fragile mindset. After four weeks away from all of it, of listening to actual teenagers bitching about their emotional upheavals, watching them fumbling in the darkness to express their lust for someone else, I definitely realize that I am not old, but too old for this shit. I don't need reassurance or high school cliquerie to feel good about myself.

This was reassuring and sad. I'm relieved that I am done with the part of my life during which I get confused by everything, and insecured by everyone. I am sad that I didn't get any kick from flirting, or dancing, or singing in the way I used to.

When I read blogs such as Britni's (http://britisstillshameless.blogspot.com/), I feel awed and inspired by her capacity to live out her sexual desires and the ambiguities of feminism and submissiveness. I don't feel that I'm up to owning up who I am in that way. But I'm certainly getting closer to living the life I want for myself. I always knew I didn't need a man to make my life good. But mentoring younger people, dishing out advice and giggling at conundrums made me feel so much better about my own doubts and sadness. I'm still shakily veering into recovery, and some days are bad bad bad. However, I'm growing up well into the person I was always meant to be: "ein strahlendes Mädchen", a glowing, glittering girl.

I just signed up for a year of studying international law and environmental law, and I am STOKED. I feel excited about my studies. And yeah, my heart is cold, and I haven't felt a flitter of desire for the longest time, but I feel like everything is falling back into place.

Oh, and my German is fluent again. That feels nice.