The End

When I first had the idea for this trip, I thought it would have to last at least a few months in order to learn anything from it. I wanted to be away for a while because I thought it would immerse me in the whole thing, and maybe develop me. Plus, I thought that more time = more stories to tell to make me more interesting at parties (not that I ever go to any).

I had the view that going away for just a couple of weeks was only a brief holiday, and thought that even 6 weeks wouldn't be enough for whatever it is I thought I would experience.

Maybe that was narrow-minded. Maybe I didn't want to be just another backpacker interrailling around Europe and wanted to be a bit different. Sounds about right to be honest.

Now I see that it doesn't necessarily matter how long you're away for. You could have a startling epiphany on a long weekend in Bruges. Two weeks in Egypt might give you a different perspective. Me, I've learned a lot during my time away (including such useful information as the word for peacock in Italian) - but I just as surely know that now is the right time to leave, and that I don't feel the need to stay any longer.

Part of me thought I should stay in Europe longer because a) that was the plan, b) it felt like cheating just spending 6 weeks away, but also c) I felt like I was cheating by making such a big deal out of my trip (I've pretty much milked it for the last year), only to return home to my friends in a matter of weeks.

But time seems to pass differently when travelling. Days seem to be much longer, and two days in a city feels like a week. Similarly, my week at the riding school felt like a month. That morphing of time, combined with my rather short attention span, means that I realise now I don't think I will ever go travelling for a long period of time. At least, not until my attention span increases. Any tips?

Budapest

Budapest was one of my most anticipated cities on this trip. Partly because I had a more personal interest in the history of the city, and Hungary overall, as my mother was born here (and I still have family in the country).

Budapest is also the only city on this trip that I have in fact visited before; although, given that I was three years old at the time, I'm not going to be regaling you with many memories of that visit. Still, I feel it counts in some way.

The city felt to me like it was built on contradictions and oppositions. That's certainly helped by the geography of the place; old, hilly Buda on the west side of the Danube, and flat, busy, bustling Pest on the other side. And perhaps it's also down to my hostel being in a more down-at-heel location. But I felt like the city was both cosmopolitan and struggling, upbeat but also gloomy at times.

Again my hostel had an influence in this. Run by a couple of locals, they were extremely friendly and welcoming, but also more than willing to share all their opinions about their city, their country, its politics, and those of the EU. Given that one of the bunch spoke hardly any English, this took place in the form of numerous hand gestures with the occasional reference to Google Translate - which was bizarre and amusing, but also left me with the impression that Hungary is a country that was optimistic about the post-communism future, but has not seen all of those hopes realised.

This impression was confirmed further when I went on a walking tour which focused on the communist history of the city, where the guides spent some time talking about the older generation's experiences and their views now. The tour as a whole was fascinating, actually - some buildings still have not been renovated, and we walked past more than one which were still covered with bullet holes from the 1956 uprising. Apparently these streets are in high demand by Hollywood, as it saves them having to build sets for shooting scenes.

Anyway, that's enough of me being depressing and political. The place is interesting, exciting and beautiful. There are heaps of good places to eat - though, perhaps unsurprisingly, none of them served goulash soup as good as my mama's. If you ask nicely I'll make it for you sometime.

One thing I had decided on before I arrived was to visit one of the many baths - Szechenyi in particular, which is the oldest of all the baths in the city. And I'm so glad I did. Elegant and ornate old buildings combined with lounging around in pools and a sauna - what's not to love?

I also paid a visit to Café Gerbaud. This is a highly ornate establishment off the main shopping street in Pest, founded by a Swiss man who, according to the tour guide, was a highly skilled confectioner and master baker (heh...) but was too penniless to start his own business... Until, that is, he married a rich Hungarian lady. I'm glad he did - I had a delicious Dobos torte, which is a Hungarian cake made of many thin layers of cake and chocolate, with a hard caramel topping. As a girl who dabbles in baking occasionally, I know exactly how fiddly it would have been to make that cake, and that just made it all the more delicious.

I loved Café Gerbaud so much, in fact, that what was supposed to be cake and a cappuccino for elevenses turned into lunch - the second course of which was another cappuccino and a large ice cream sundae consisting of some kind of cinnamon cake, walnut and chocolate ice cream and layers of cream, topped with a chocolate macaron and solid chocolate sprayed gold. God, I would eat happily eat that 'meal' for the rest of the week.

Anyhoo. As I write this, I am no longer in Budapest (for which my teeth are probably thanking me). I have moved onto a small town called Révfülöp, on the north shore of Lake Balaton. The whole of the lake is something of a holiday destination for Hungarians, although more so in the larger towns around the shore.

Révfülöp is not one of the larger towns. And that's exactly how I like it. If you have no interest in swimming in a beautiful blue lake, or cycling through a national park, then Révfülöp is probably not for you as there really isn't much else to do. The town itself seems to consist of three restaurants and a couple of shops. As it is, I've been quite contented with swimming, sunbathing and ploughing my way through the books on my Kindle still left to read. And my hostel provides home made meals every night, as much as you want for the cheerful price of f1200 (less than four quid). I've just filled myself up on a massive (and delicious) bowl of goulash with heaps of fresh bread.

After this post, however, there may be a silence for a while. My next stop after Révfülöp is to visit family in Debrecen, which isn't really sightseeing or touristing or travelling but reuniting with people I know little of but wish I knew more, whom I haven't seen since communism first fell in the early 90s. As this is more interesting to me and probably considerably less interesting to you, dear reader, I won't be publishing those exploits on this blog but on the (slightly) more private medium of Facebook. So if you really care, you can keep your eyes peeled on there.

The houses of parliament

The changing of the guard on Castle hill in Buda

One of the buildings still awaiting renovation from the 1956 uprising. Apparently Jude Law and Jason Statham were hanging out making a film here recently. No big deal.

The houses of parliament at night time

The Chain Bridge

Prague

Well, this is going to be a brief post because I didn't actually do very much at all in Prague. There has been a bit of a heatwave in central Europe for the last week, and it was between 32-34c the whole time I was in Prague. For someone who is constantly cold when in the office, surprisingly I have come to the conclusion I actually detest hot weather - that is, if I have to do anything which requires more effort than lying down and eating ice cream. Consequently, my stay in Prague was flavoured with feelings of grouchiness and general lethargy.

I made it to the Mucha museum, which was a priority as I am a fan of the artist's work. And there were some beautiful pieces, so I would definitely recommend it.

On my second day I got up early to avoid the worst of the heat, walked up the hill to the castle, by which time it was far too hot. I decided I would rather not spend money on an entry ticket, because I would be too busy quietly melting in a corner to appreciate anything. So I struggled back down the hill, to a pleasant patch of greenery on Shooter's Island in the middle of the river, where I hid under the shade of the trees for more or less the rest of my stay.

Prague *is* very pretty, I will give it that. Had it been cooler, I would have been pleased enough just wandering through the little streets, exploring and getting happily lost. It's also very touristy, though, and there was a huge focus on the nightlife in my hostel; all anyone talked about was how much they drank the previous night, where they were going tonight and how much they were going to drink. I found it all rather childish, a bit tiresome, and a little bit alienating since it was clear I didn't really have anything in common with anyone there. So, as pretty as Prague was, I wasn't too disappointed when it was time to catch my train onto Vienna.

Berlin

My next stop after Stockholm (with a stopover in Copenhagen again to break up the journey) was Berlin.

I don't really feel like any of my words can do this place justice. It was Just. So. Interesting. Just being in the city and coming face to face with the wall and seeing other parts of the city with its past, made everything hit home so much more. I feel like when I get home I need to go out and buy a load of history books, because I drank in everything the tour guide said; who, incidentally, was very good, and had a wealth of knowledge... She is writing a book on Berlin's history, so that gives you an idea just how much she knew about the city.

Despite receiving recommendations from friends for places to go, I didn't really see the culture and nightlife of the city; mostly because I was caught up in the history side, but also because I didn't meet up with any other travellers and don't like the idea of going out at night on my own. But that was fine, it was engrossing enough just to explore in the daytime and do some learnin's. And that at least means I have an excuse to go back some time soon!

Jewish Memorial

East Side Gallery - artwork on a remaining stretch of the Berlin Wall

Stockholm

I have to be honest, I didn't love Stockholm as much as Copenhagen, though I can't quite put my finger on why. Maybe it is that elusive concept of hygge, which the Swedes don't seem to have.

However, it was still a lovely city, and if it wasn't quite as pleasant to stroll through as Copenhagen (and let's be honest, Stockholm is still nicer for an evening wander than Bradford), it made up for it by having so many interesting things to do. I believe there are around 80 museums/attractions in Stockholm and the vicinity, so it would be difficult to run out of things to do.

My main priority was, of course, the Abba museum - or rather, Abba: The Museum to give it its proper name, which personally I think sounds a) ridiculous, and b) like it's the title for their comeback album.
I'm going to restrain myself because I don't want to tire your poor eyes out, but this was literally the best thing I've been to on this trip so far, and possibly one of my favourite museum/attractions ever. I don't even care whether that vote loses me all my cool points, it was just brilliant.

The audio guide was narrated entirely by members of the band, describing their early life and music career pre-Abba, and their thoughts on success and the songwriting process - all of which was really interesting.

The originals of many of their unforgettable costumes are on display. There are also interactive parts, where you can have a go at mixing a song, following their dance moves, and even sing along karaoke-style. Elsewhere, there is a massive light-up dancefloor complete with disco ball, although when I passed through only the young kids were unembarrassed abuut dancing along.

Afterwards I blew my year's salary in the gift shop then wandered back, with obscure Abba songs playing in my head for the rest of the day.

Other things I did in Stockholm which were not related to Abba:

Wandered through Gamla Stan. This is the old part of the town, and had lots of narrow little alleyways with shops and restaurants.

Visited the Nordiskamuseet (Nordic Museum). This was super interesting, with many different exhibitions. My personal favourite was the Swedish folk art gallery; I love this style of decoration, and it was interesting to see how modern Nordic textiles have evolved from these beginnings.

Also, there was an exhibition about the Sami culture, which was hugely interesting and thought-provoking.

I then visited the Modernamuseet, so I could pretend to be all cultured by looking at some modern art - I thought this might balance out the cheesiness of Abba the previous day. Again, I learnt a lot, and saw some wonderful pieces. Not knowing a thing about art, and even less about modern art, I couldn't tell you what was so amazing about them or what they were saying, just that I liked something about them. But then, I tend to think that's all that matters.

I could easily have found plenty more things in Stockholm to do, and I didn't as much have time as I would have liked to just wander round the city. But it's probably fortunate for my bank account that I didn't,  as I spent even more money in Stockholm than I did in Copenhagen, eek.

This photo has convinced me that all cranes should be painted to look like giraffes

Gothenburg Pride

I didn't actually see a lot of Gothenburg; my one full day in the city coincided with me feeling a bit low and needing to hide, so I didn't explore too much. Most serendipitously, though, I did literally stumble across the gay pride march, so I thought I'd share some of the photos.

In Which I Share My Learnings

1. If you want to breakfast like an Italian does, you better not have diabetes. Seriously, I don't even consume that much sugar in my desserts.

2. If one is to buy a lovely new leather purse in Florence, and transfer one's belongings from the old purse to the new one, don't congratulate yourself on being uber-tidy and throwing out unnecessary bits of paper, when one of those now-thrown-away bits of paper is the deposit slip for your luggage left at the train station. Fortunately Italians are not known for sticking to the rules, so I did get my backpack returned safe, but not before a lot of frantic rummaging through handbag pockets and cursing under my breath like a mad old lady.

3. As an introvert, I have accepted that I need my downtime and I'm getting better at not feeling self-conscious about it. I prefer to get up early in the morning so I can sightsee while it's quiet; this then means, though, that by the time early evening comes I'm so drained from all the stimuli that I physically and mentally cannot cope with the stereotypical backpacker experience of going out drinking. I prefer to hole up either in my room or in a quiet corner of the bar if the hostel has its own, and read my book or surf the net. I've more or less stopped caring what other backpackers think of me, as I care about my sanity and wellbeing far more - and I know that if I let myself get too tired out, I just feel homesick so I'd rather avoid that.

Having said that, I did manage to successfully interact with actual real live people in the hostel in Copenhagen; I drank in the hostel bar two (two!) nights in a row, and even talked to more than one person on each night. I know, right?!

4. I still feel permanently guilty whenever I have to interact with a local, for the sole reason that I don't speak any other language. I feel like prefacing every sentence with an apology for being another stereotypical mono-lingual English person.

5. Following on from the above, I've more or less accepted that I don't understand what's going on around me most of the time. Bill Bryson writes in Neither Here Nor There that he likes being in a country where he doesn't speak the language, because he doesn't have to listen to an overheard boring conversation between strangers. As clever and witty as the man is, though, I can't agree with him here. One of my favourite things about public transport is gaining a picture of the people around you by the things they talk about, then making up ridiculous backstories for them. I initially felt like I was missing out on such minutiae away from the UK, but I've come to terms with it now and mostly just wander round in a state of amiable cluelessness - which is probably something I'll bring home with me, to be honest, because it's actually quite freeing.

6. Kindles (or other e-readers) are an absolute, 100% god-given lifesaver for travelling, solo or otherwise. It's kept me company in many restaurants, and has provided relief from the busy crowds. When I'm tired of walking but it's too nice to be inside, I can sit outside in a park, square or piazza and escape from the world. And it helps me to sleep at night. Of course, ordinary printed books do all this too, but at the rate I read I would have needed a second suitcase just for books. I'm only three weeks into my trip and already I've re-read the entire Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series; two other novels, and three works of non-fiction. Not gonna lie, I feel pretty smug about this.

In addition, I have a selection of phrasebooks stored on my Kindle so I can quickly check how to ask for the bill while I'm sat in a restaurant. I even have the Kindle app on my phone for the same reason, just in case I happen not to have the Kindle itself out.

I wholeheartedly eat and retract any negative comments I may have made about e-readers in the past; I'm a convert (though real books still have a firm place in my heart).