Or the experience you probably won’t have when you visit Hungary on account of the difficulties in finding reliable time travel devices. Also, time travel doesn’t exist, so read this short story, instead.
I admit that I knew little about the city. One of my favourite bands titled a song after it, but the song reveals little in terms of travel details. A little research tells of the city’s once bustling history as an inland port and trading centre. Much business was done in this now-smallish city, creating an important artery which brought goods, industry, and trade to the Loire Valley region.
What do 3 Canadians and 2 expats get up to on their first crazy night in Germany?
Why, they hop on a trolley, find their BnB, and raid a local petrol station for beverage and microwaveable foodstuffs. We may not be royalty, but we certainly know how to live like kings!
Buses may not be a favourite means of international travel for many people, however, I find myself quite enjoying them. They can be noisy, bumpy, and packed with annoyances, for sure. They’re also great opportunities to disconnect, nap, and unwind while essentially being chauffeured … albeit with a bunch of gassy strangers, odd food choices, noisy bags and all. Conversely, given a great driver and decent folk, journeys on the road can be quite pleasant. For instance, they are a great place to catch up on blog posts.
Much more than simply Ljubljana and Lake Bled, there was far more to see in Slovenia that could be checked off in a long weekend. That said, we thoroughly enjoyed our short time there and walked away with a strong desire to return.
Let’s first talk about sea sickness. Thankfully I don’t suffer from such an affliction, yet it would have been an idea to consider such a possibility before booking a kayak trip on the Adriatic sea. Bobbing along in the waves, some as tall as myself, the thought did occur to me. Thankfully I kept this thought to myself, rather than saddle Kat with the idea of a potential liability in the front of her boat.
Standing in a foggy miasma, I could be anywhere in the world. Anywhere, that is, atop a scattering of loose rocks and semi-large stones. Surrounded by adventure tourists, dogs, and random locals. So, honestly, this could be anywhere in Wales, or a world straight out of Ridley Scott’s imagination.
Hot on the heels of a memorable Xmas in Vienna, with barely a day to drop off my gear and launder unmentionables, I’d packed my bag anew and set off for the wilds of King’s Cross and a date with a train aimed north, towards the cobbled alleyways of Edinburgh.
What do three 30-somethings do when on their own in Vienna for the holidays? After Xmas markets have been plumbed for trinkets and various forms of dough-based treats, cobbled streets have been wandered and imperial architecture has been ogled, what is next for weary holiday adventurers? The answer, of course, involves Bratislava. Our story begins, […]
I’d intended to wallow a little in self pity over the holidays. Sit around, watch Netflix, maybe start a questionable dating profile. You know, the usual jazz one gets up to when they’re bored and looking for pity. Instead I ended up eating schnitzel in a foreign city and deftly navigating the local transit system.