bumblingtravels

[bumblingtravels]

15. Budapest

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Budapest

June 12th, 2018

Our next day in Budapest saw the sun at full blast and these two British girls sweating buckets. It was a late start and the early rise tomorrow warranted an early night so we forwent the customary picnic and headed out into the world.

Treating ourselves to the scenic route we headed down to the river and walked along it on our way to the bridge. This bridge spans across the river and connects Buda to Pest and it was the former that was our destination as we headed towards Buda Castle.

The bride drops you off directly at the foothills of Buda Castle and Budapest’s famous cable car. Despite someone trying to poach us to get the bus up instead - and I use the word ‘bus’ very loosely, let’s be honest this is nothing else but a stretched out golf cart - we treated ourselves to the cable car and a glorious 3 minutes and 47 seconds. The cable car is a great little thing and we managed to nab the first compartment so we could see the whole view of the river and old fashioned track as we ascended upwards.

The tip top of the cable track drops you off at a viewpoint with truly breathtaking views. We forgave the scorching weather for a brief moment as we enjoyed the blue skies and sunshine over a view that was distinctly European.

Now, Buda Castle ain’t much of a castle. I would hesitate to call it a castle and instead maybe go for art gallery or just a really good bit of wall. Nevertheless, after treating ourselves to some ice cream, we walked along the outskirts of this apparent caste.

Despite the misleading name a further treat-yo-self to a crushed ice slushy spurred us on through the heat and we walked these really good walls, all the while admiring the breathtaking views sprawl out in front of us.

Realising that time had got away from us and we had an early start tomorrow, we headed back towards the cable tracks. After a brief meal at the castle restaurant - where we ordered the whole dessert menu (one chocolate cake and one strawberry cheesecake please) - we continued onto the cable car, and yet another breathtaking ride.

We ended our lovely Budapest adventure with a walk throughout the cite centre which ended at a souvenir shop selling everything from post cards, to honey, to toy guns. We collected our wares and after briefly speaking to the cashier about the economy and immigration, we headed off one to pack and get ready for the next travel day.

- MiraSophia

[bumblingtravels]

14. Budapest

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Budapest

June 11th, 2018

Despite the nap the day before we treated ourselves to a mini lie-in - what? we’re students. Opting for a relaxing park day I made us some breakfast - I slaved all day over those cocoa pops - while Meg made us a picnic lunch and we got ready for the day.

The first stop on our Budapest adventure was of course the well-known pharmacy - Bobert needed some TLC. We followed that big, glowing green cross like some sort of heavenly sign and hunted down some Bobert remedies.

Bobert tended too, we headed to a park behind the apartment block that looked good on google maps. Kids listen up, sometimes… the internet lies!!! The park that looked oh so lovely on the inter webs ended up being not so lovely in the real world. Too many paths stopped proper grass age and a lack of people using it as an actual park had us seriously questioning the legality of park lying in Budapest - what? Hungarians might just have something against grass, stranger things have happened.

We managed some sitting for all of 30 seconds before deciding we ain’t about this life. Deciding to tentatively put our trust back in google, we headed off in the direction of Margaret’s Island, a decision that ended up being on of our best (spoiler alert).

Just up the street, past 3 restaurants, 1 banks, 2 McDonalds and 1 mini golf course lays Margaret’s Bridge that aptly connects Buda to Pest and veer off to Margaret’s Island.

Now, for those of you who haven’t been to Margaret’s Island, just imagine Disneyland on speed and made of grass. Walking into the massive island, you’re greeted by a bus stop and a map of the island because the park is just that big.

First stop was of course the toilet, I’m not pointing fingers but the bladder has a Bobert. But, before we could even get there you find yourself at a big-ass roundabout which is surrounded by people selling pedal carts of various jazziness, because this is an island made for wizzing around.

Bladders emptied, we set up camp in a cute patch of grass nestled in some bushes, under a tree and opposite a big ole fountain. Now, remember how I called this place Disneyland on speed, well apparently, in Budapest the fountains sing. On the hour, every hour, for 15 minutes the fountains become a musical water show set to music from everything from Rolling Stones to Moana soundtrack to Dua Lipa. Budapest Disney be wild.

Time flew by as we lay on the grass and had our picnic. The musical show and general park and fountain-ness proved to be a wonderful backdrop to writing and reading. I can honestly say I have never had a more relaxing or enjoyable time - you can’t go wrong with a good park, especially one complete with a musical fountain.

The magical adventure continued as we said adieu to our picnic spot and continued our trek through Margaret’s Island. Just behind a bank of flower beds and a line of sunbeams is a big ole ‘Budapest’ sign - just in case anyone forgets where they are. Like the proper travelling tourists we are, we took a photoshoot worth of pictures in front of the sign so everyone knows exactly where we went on our travels.

The rest of the day was a wide assortment of various things that Margaret’s Island has to offer - I still don’t know who Margaret is, but I would like to thank her for her great taste in Islands. Passing by a BnB and a zoo, because what park is complete without a zoo enclosure just for chickens - we continued the trick to the other side.

Margaret’s Island ends as most parks do; at a massive hotel overlooking a great water tower. With thoughts of ‘ah what an Island’ we headed back down via the other side. Stopping for ice cream and a quick piss in a bush - DofE trekking expeditions have prepared me well - we walked past a big pool and some old ruined - again, this is an island and a half - before once again finding ourselves at the magical musical fountain.

Seeing that the fountain was lit up all colourful we sat and waited for the next musical number. It was a wonderful experience and a very fitting end to such a lovely day.

— MiraSophia

[bumblingtravels]

13. Venice -> Budapest

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Venice —> Budapest

June 10th, 2018

After very up and down night, we arrived at our layover stop in Vienna. Hopping over to the next platform we awaited the next train to Budapest. On the train we immediately felt at home as we seemed to have found ourselves in a carriage solely for inter-railers. Feeling reassured that we were at least on the right train, we settled in for a seemless journey to Budapest - alas not as comfy as the Italian trains, now they really know how to rail.

After buying a ridiculously cheap metro ticket - seriously Budapest is the place to be if you’re broke - we easily navigated our way to the apartment - we’re honestly getting so good at this navigating public transport thing, it’s almost like we’re basically adults or something.

We met Peter outside of the apartment and he showed us the complicated key arrangements before saying goodbye. This apartment may be dinky but god was the building grand. The outside courtyard was lined with flower pots and iron balconies giving the whole thing a very big fairy tale vibe, in one word: magical.

Exhausted from a turbulent sleep and long day of travelling. Meg quickly fell into a long blink - it’s a nap, we all know it’s a nap - and I attempted to write for a bit before unexpectedly tumbling into the first non-transport nap I’ve had in a long long time - definitely a magical place.

After the unexpected nap, we showered and I made us dinner as we planned our next couple of days in Budapest.

Oh…

Oh…

Oh…

                                       Ohhh….

How could I forget the greatest part of this day. So, Meg is white, like White™, and to accompany her streaky sunburn was a new friend.

A glorious combination of mosquito bites, pressurised cabins and 48 hours in a hot stinky sock created a wonderful rash and swollen foot. We fashioned an ice pack out of a water bottle and a hair tie and just sat around admiring the mighty beast that was Meg’s new foot - seriously this thing was probably where they got Bigfoot from: he ain’t no hairy ape just Meg’s foot. Oh… and we named him Bobert.

— Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

12. Venice

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Venice

June 9th, 2018

Saturday morning saw a very early rise to be out of Barbara’s hair by 9am. Our host’s adorableness continued as she gave us biscuits and home-made cappuccinos to boost us through the early mornings.

When we left, Barbara outdid herself by gifting us each with a small Murano glass Venetian bracelet to remember her by. I think it’s safe t say Barbara got al the stars in her review.

The ice cream shop was closed so we couldn’t repeat yesterday’s breakfast and instead headed straight into Venice - we’ll have our ice cream breakfast there instead, what a hard life. Storing our bags at the station we set off in the direct of Saint Marcos and the promised park.

Our journey through this beautiful city was once again marked by gorgeous bridges and canal’s, but this time it was marred by extreme heat. I managed to guide us across the Rialto and to the breathtaking sight of Saint Marco’s Piazza and Church before we skirted the edges in search of the promised park.

Now, here’s where shi*t gets tricky. Venice is one of the most beautiful cities ever and I would hate to speak a word against it, but it can be a sneaky liar sometimes. This oh so anticipated part was locked up tight and under heavy construction, which is frankly just rude. Although this heartbreaking event dampened our spirits somewhat we were too stubborn to be dissuaded and instead headed i the direction of a Park… called Park - I know these Italian’s are so creative I don’t know how they do it.

A quick journey across the Academia bridge found us once again on the main island and we took a brief pause to sit by the river and have a quick snack. The day was already looking up and a further blessing came in the form of the University nearby using eduroam and we got some blissful free wifi - I’ve never loved Blackboard more.

Moving on from our sweet little wifi-adjacent spot, we continued on our way to the Promised Land. A further quick stop was needed to tweet James Blunt a picture of his face on a bin of course - priorities right.

Eventually our quest was completed and we reached the Valhalla of the Park called Park. We quickly set up camp on a little island of clovers and opposite a statue of some old geezer. Meg settled in for a ‘long blink’ - it’s a nap but don’t tell her I said that - and I wrote for a bit before doodling the doodle found seven pages before.

Exhausting our stay in Venice we wandered back to the train station and collected our bags before heading to Treviso Centrale where we were set to get het sleeper train to our next city.

Treviso Centrale was an unexpectedly tiny station and not exactly ideal for a two hour wait. Nevertheless, we stuck it out as trains came and went and our train got more and more delayed. One particularly gruelling moment came when an empty cargo train stopped at our platform and mocked us for 10 minutes like some empty, barren carcass of all our hopes and dreams.

Our train finally arrived 20 minutes late and we boarded it to find we were sharing a cabin with two basically 12 year olds who may have been running away from home. Our British sensibilities means we were originally guilted out of our OG window seats but after deciding “f**k this those are our best seats and you’re 12!” Meg’s scouse courage booted them off and we clawed our prize - it’s the small victories in life, by this point I’ll take what I can get. Also, no child who can’t even find their tickets and keeps dodging phone calls deserves my window seat!

Back in our rightful place we watched half of the Sense8 series finale - the tears and pain are real - before settling in for an up and down sleep.

Boredom seems to be a good inspiration network, at least trains seem to give me poems…

‘The wildest life I’ll ever life,

Not this one yet not the next.

The dainty tap of fairy feet,

Guide me to the memory hall.

I hope and dream to live it again,

But fail to live it true.

The wildest life I’ll ever live,

Was lived some time ago.

I dream of being that me again,

But that will not be so.

The only self I’ll ever know,

Is this truth you see.

The wildest life I’ll ever know,

Is faded into blue.’

- Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

What I wish I’d known

I was recently asked to write an entry for a fellow travellers blogs. When I was first asked I admit I was at a bit of a loss of what to write; tips for fellow travellers and retellings of an adventure seems like an easy ask, but when you’ve lived a crazy wild life like me it all gets a little muddled. And when I say ‘crazy’ I truly mean that.

As I sit here writings this I still don’t quite know what story I want to tell. Admittedly, I was asked for this months ago, but as is often the case, life gets in the way of interests and passions and loves. Anyways, the clocks a-ticking and there’s only so long I can put this off for so here we go…

There’s endless websites out there that can give you Top Tips For Your Holiday, and no one could ever accuse me of being boring, so my tips are slightly different. Below are five things that I think are essential for all travellers new and old, things I wish I had written down before I even set off on my first trip to the village hall.

1. Follow Your Interests

This may seem like a boring mundane ‘duh’ one, but you’d be surprised how many people do things because “oh everyone else does this so we must too!!” There’s no point going on a travelling holiday to Rome if the extent of your interest in Italy extends to Caesar and Brutus’ contribution to memes.

I was adamant that I wanted to go interrailing around Europe. For each city we would visit I had laid out places I definitely wanted to visit. You have to be reasonable and realise that you’re not going to be able to walk 50,000 steps and see 10 different things each day - well you might be able to but I would not recommend that. Instead pick your top choices. They don’t even have to be exact things. I wasn’t sure what to expect in Budapest and Prague but I knew I wanted to go there and experience new European cultures, and you know what? They ended up being some of my favourite places.

If you’re like me, and you don’t really mind where you go you just want to travel, then following your interests is pretty easy. For those of you who share my love for globe spinning, then my advice is reasonably simple: do what you love. This is your life to map out (see what I did there) and they’re your adventures to curate. So do what interests you, what fascinates you, what drives you; and do it well. There no point going to 20 places in one month and getting the postcard, when you can spend the same time seeing 8 places and falling in love with each one again and again and again.

So do what you love. Follow what you’re interested in. And don’t forget to slow down once in a while. The world isn’t a race. You can afford to spend a whole day lazing in bed in Rome, because you know what? You may be laying in bed, but it’s a bed in Rome.

2. Adapt

To be honest learning to adapt is just good life advice. There’s not enough fingers in the world to count all the times I’ve had to change plans because something just isn’t right, or your mate Dave just never bloody follow through. But the important thing is, no matter how frustrating it is to veer away from what I’m sure is a perfectly scheduled travel plan marked down to the second, sometimes sh*t just happens.

I used to be one of those people who liked structure and planning and detailed documents outlining each and every moment of each day (colour coded of course), but that’s just not practical. You have to go with the flow in this weird changing world.

When we arrived in Rome we had a full week worth of activities and sites to see, only to find out that of course! Of course we arrived the day before a massive festival when Rome’s transport is shut down for the day and the streets are awash with colour, laughing and booze. Our plans to see the colosseum the next day were thwarted but in many ways these bumps only helped our adventures and gave us some new ones. Instead we stayed in our little apartment and got pizza from the tiny pizzeria down the street - what would end up being the best pizza either of us had ever, and probably will ever have - and sat on our little balcony spending peaceful time doing nothing yet everything. We went to the colosseum the next day and it so happened to be one of the few days that you could get in for free. So thank you Rome! Thank you for celebrating you and giving us charming time all the while looking after our diminishing student bank accounts.

So adapt people. It’s important to learn that life isn’t a play-by-play and usually something will go wrong. But if you’re lucky, something else will just go so so right

3. Remember Home

This may seem like a silly one. Like somewhat of a wimpy sell-out more than an advice number. But truly this is one of the most important ones to me. The worlds big. It’s scary. And things don’t always go your way. For me, there’s honestly nothing more important on a wild travelling adventure then remembering where you come from, remembering home and all those you left there - especially the cat.

I’m lucky enough to have a really close relationship with my parents. As such, I would always be one to phone home and keep in at least sporadic contact with home. But when you’re travelling across Europe via one-ticket trains it’s even more important. This advice may only seem fitting for younger or new travellers but it’s important for everyone. Trust me, when things get tough and even when your heart fills with joy, you’re going to want to remember home.

Whether it’s accidentally being caught up in a Parisian protest, accidentally ordering an absinthe shot or suddenly struggling to breath in the middle of a Mongolian forest - all of which have happened to me, like I said: crazy life - you’re going to want to remember home.

4. Slum It

Look. All those travel instagram blogs and backpacking magazines are filthy liars. Well, okay some of it is true, you will be having the time of your life and you will never believe some of the beauty that makes up the world, but it’s not all exotic food, hammocks in forests and footprints in the sand. Take it from me, at one point on your travels you will find yourself drying clothes with a hair dryer and doing laundry in what might be bleach. Life’s just like that sometimes.

I recently traveled around Europe for a month and I’m amusedly ashamed to admit that on two separate occasions I found myself slumming it and washing clothes in a not quite usual manner. When traveling anywhere for more than two weeks your bound to have to wash clothes and it’s far easier to carry a weeks wardrobe than try to lug around 30 separate outfits all around Europe.  There’s only so many inside-out ways you can wear socks and underwear and shirts before you need to just bite the bullet and accept the reality that the sink is your new best friend.

Rome is a beautiful majestic place, but for some people your travels there will very much boast a highlight of washing clothes in what, to this day, I’m still not convinced isn’t bleach and then fashioning a rather fetching sock drying tower out of an old lamp. These adventures reach their peak the next morning when you need to pack so first you’re just going to have to accept the fact that you’ll be spending the next two hours of your life drying clothes with a dodgy hair dyer.

These laundry adventures will continue throughout your holiday as four cities down the line in Prague you’ll inevitably find yourself washing socks and underwear in the sink while your friend rinses in the bidet. I’ve said this once and unfortunately it’s now my catchphrase: life just be like that sometimes.

So don’t sweat the small stuff. Travelling isn’t glamorous. You will have to wear socks of questionable cleanliness and wash underwear in sinks but I promise you this it’s worth it. When you step out of your falling apart home-for-the-night, you’ll forget about wet socks and third-time-around shirt the second you see the world spilling out at your feet.  

5. Trust Yourself!

The most important advice I could ever give you if simple: Trust Yourself. You need to believe that you know more than you think you do. The world is big and scary but it’s also so beautiful and awe-inspiring. By the time you step on your first train, plane, bus, you’ve already done all the leg work. You’ve got yourself this far. You can do it. If travelling is what you want to do then do it, don’t sweat the ins and outs it’ll all work out magically.

It’s important to learn to listen to your gut. I’ve been travelling from a young age but almost always with Mum holding my tickets and Dad navigating the stations. But when I started this whole travelling thing without that parental safety net I was scared, but I also realised that I knew more than I thought.

Trust yourself.

You know how to look after yourself. You know what a train station looks like, a plane isn’t new to you. You know how to stay alive, how to feed yourself, you don’t need someone to change your nappies anymore.

Trust yourself.

Listen to your instinct and don’t go where you’re not comfortable. Go where you want to. See the world explore this crazy planet we live on, But if you feel off, if something feels off, just turn around and walk away - they’ll be an adventure around the next corner.

Trust yourself.

You know what you’re capable of. You know what you’re comfortable with. Don’t be afraid to ask for help but I promise you now you’ll be okay. Don’t be put off pursuing your hopes and dreams because you don’t know if you can do it. You can. I promise you. You’ll be okay.

Trust yourself.

(and find out what ‘exit’ is in each language so you don’t spend your travels trapped in the metro because you don’t know how to get out)

I hope these mis-matched tips gave you all a better view on what it is to be an adventurer, an explorer, a traveller. Top Tips will only get you so far and it’s no use knowing how to budget and whether or not you should get travel insurance (the answer is yes, you most definitely should) if you don’t know what’s coming, what to do when you get there.

So go forth. Embark on each of your individual crazy adventurers. Write down what you do, take pictures of what you see and tell everyone everything that made you laugh, cry, smile. The world is full of wonder and such an amazing place. Travelling is how we see it all.

So just follow your interests, adapt, remember home, don’t be afraid to slum it and in everything you do, all that you see don’t forget to…

Trust yourself

- MiraSophia

[bumblingtravels]

11. Venice

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Venice

June 8th, 2018

Where to begin with our Venice adventure, the only thing I’ll say for sure is that it’s clearly the greatest city in the world and I want to live here forever. Barbara’s bed is the comfiest thing ever, and despite the dull day before we treated ourselves to a well deserved lie in - what? we’re students!

Emerging into the Italian day we went in search of a bakery and soon discovered that all of Italy decides to snooze on a Friday, and honestly? Mood. Deciding ‘who needs a well balanced breakfast?’ - see above ‘we’re students’ - we went to the geleteria that was open last night well past 11pm. We had the most Italian student breakfast ever a mega ice cream and cheesecake - lilikoi for me of course - that turned out to be the best ice cream an cheesecake either of us had ever had - that justifies it right?

The floating city of Venice is only a quick 30minute train ride away, quickly passed in one of the most comfortable trains ever - Crewe would never! The approach to Venice via train is magical in itself. The train track spans across a bridge allowing you a crystal clear view of the floating city and its many boat-owning inhabitants. As the buildings slowly get larger, we finished our approach into he city and set out for what would be one of my favourite days yet.

The train stations exits directly onto the boardwalk spanning the Grand Canal. For miles all you can see is boats, bridges and evidence of a bumbling tourism industry. We walked across the great stepped bridge that greets you and adeptly swerved around the characteristics paddlers who only seem tot know the words “selfie sticks”. On the other side of the bridge we visited a couple of gift stands and purchased another lot of leather bracelets because let’s face it, are you really a traveller if you don’t have at least three bracelets on at al times. A quick top for the toilets at one of the grandest burger kings I’ve ever seen - where I proved myself as an able pickpocket to get to the toilet code - we started our Venetian Ventures.

Venice is without a doubt one of the greatest and most beautiful cities ever. Already I’m hatching plans to get super rich and buy the whole island, but something tells me that might not exactly be plausible - plots of world domination never seem to work in the movies.

We spent an absolutely lovely day simply walking up and down the streets of Venice. My Duke of Edinburgh leader would’ve been proud as I easily navigated us all around and back again with having a map.

Along our adventure we stopped in lots of different shops ranging from masquerade specialists to Murano glass makers to the run of the mill tourist shops - you know, you’re post cards, magnets and cheap knock-off products that fall apart as soon as you get home bu try then what’s the point? The journey was also broken up by many photoshops as each bridge, building and canal combination got better and better - not to mention our branded rainbow pictures, can’t be neglecting the aesthetic.

As few hours into the Venetian venture, we found ourselves in the wildest of situations, we went into a masquerade mask shop and had a cheeky look around before spotting the shop keeper. He was a sweet little Italian man who makes all the masks in his shop and he showed us the one he was working on at the moment. It was all very sweet and really interesting and I brought a small hand-made fridge magnet off him as a sign of appreciation and a memento of the lovely city. Now, here’s where bizarro-land descends. He kept showing us masks to try and sell them to us, which fair enough that’s just tactics. But, at one point he got Meg in a mask and proceeded to drag a big ‘ole cloak around her in order to show us how you would dress for an actual masquerade festival.

 Following this, he took my phone and Meg unexpectedly found herself i the middle of a Venetian fashion show. We left the shop with one fridge magnet gained, yet several questions raised. As I said, wild.

Escaping the unexpected bambeezling shop, we continued on one Venice exploration with yet more breathtaking canals and bridges. It was around the seventh bridge and third patch of canal that we truly started to fall in love with this magical place and move our plans of retirement - after world domination of course - to this beautiful city.

Another ultimate selling point of Venice is their apparent obsession with cats - who can blame them they truly are the greatest. Every shop seemed to be selling a variation of cats dressed in elaborate outfits like some sort of Assassin’s Creed stealth mission : Cat Edition. I sent one such fancy-shmancy cat postcard to my parents which showed Perseus’s - again the cat not the demigod - new career or potential past life, who knows what that jazzy boy got up to.

Moving on from the cat shrine a couple more bridges and canals later - and about twenty gondola sitings - we stumbled upon one of Venice’s most well-known attractions. Let’s be honest by this point my confident navigation was basically a charade, or a masquerade *wink wink*, so I was as surprised at finding the Rialto Bridge as Napoleon was at being defeated by a little chill - read harsh Russian winter but that analogy doesn’t work as well so it’s being changed.

Taking the required pictures of the Rialto Bridge, we climbed over and spent some time admiring the beauty that is Venice.

Now that concludes the first chapter of our picturesque Venetian Venture. You know how part twos are always slightly disappointing and not as good as part one or three; see. Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, all of Twilight - well brace yourself for a story of hardship, strife and woe.

It all started with a restaurant called Ganesh…

Earlier in the day, between the fourth and sixth bridge, we found a cute little restaurant that had a terrace by the river, all the pasta and pizza and most of all… student prices. Meg somewhat successfully navigated us back to the restaurant, and really our first clue should have been how empty it was. Deciding that it was still a bit early and someone has to be the first person, we went ahead and sat down. We ordered and settled in by the river surrounded by potted plants.

The food was amazing, but that is very much a side note to this epic saga. This place doubled as a curry house and all the other guests seemed to be Indian and they all got a curry menu that was not offered to us. When we finished the meal, we must have waited an hour for the plates to be cleared - a couple who arrived and ordered food after we finished left before we got served. Asking for the bill we gave up waiting and just walked up to the bar to pay - there was another British family there looking very baffled and I almost wanted to scream to them to ‘run, save yourself’! Getting the check they charged us €5 for two and a half breadsticks. We went to the toilet before we left, and had our revenge by smuggling out all the paper towels that will serve us well during our picnics.

Overall, a good meal but not worth the money and would be much nicer with some service - preferably but just some old greasy man and a lady in just a bra.

  Licking our Ganesh wound, we headed off in pursuit of ice cream. Finding an adorable gelateria by the river, we had a grade cone each and sat on the pier to enjoy the nighttime lights of Vencie.

Venice is absolutely magical at night, with dark blue lights and lanterns reflected by the Grand Canal. We wandered up and down the river soaking in the beauty as we waited for our train home. I will always maintain that one of my favourite things is European holiday nights.

A quick journey saw us back at the apartment and we quickly packed before Meg made herself a map blanket and we settle din for our last night in Barbara’s little AirBnB.

- Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

10. Rome -> Venice

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Rome —> Venice

June 7th, 2018

We left Rome today and made our way to the third city stop along our travels. Packing up and checking our in record time, we boarded a train to Venezia Mezetre. The three and a half hour train passed by quickly with only brief annoyance, yet an abundance of amusement, from a very American family. The speedy journey was entertained and aided by puzzles, books and a single poem (beware the rough edges!!).

Dashing past the bending trees,

Bowing down to whispering wind.

Buildings gone,

Lives lived,

Hopes and dreams flutter by.

Rushing past the steel bar tracks,

Resounding echoes of journeys past.

Another quick train ride found us in Mogliano Veneto, our home for the next two nights. Barbara - our host, not just a generic old lady - was at work so her neighbour Paolo greeted us. After a mini tour conducted in minor part English, small part Italian and mostly charades, we settled into our new home. Not sure when Barbara would return, we flopped on the uber comfy bed and settled into wait - Meg having her customary nap and me updating my neglected queue new with the return of wifi!

Barbara ended up being the sweetest lady who was so kind and thoughtful. She greeted us cheerfully and gave us lots of recommendations of where to eat, before providing us with an antipasti platter and cocktails: the ingredients of a happy student = free food and alcohol.

After several aborted tries, we found a cute little restaurant to eat at. Mogliano Veneto is a sweet little town if not baffling at times. Thursday nights seem to be hot sh*t, as all of the town’s youths were out and about - needless to say, we quickly swerved away and found nice place to eat away from the youths. I had my typical pasta dish and true to form the Carbonara in Italy is better than anything served at Frankie and Benny’s - who would’ve thought it?!

Bafflement continued as the youths remained active well past eleven pm - including one concerning case of an apparent three year-old - but who are we to question the Italian parental guidelines and frankly questioning when someone’s bed time is, is making me feel a tad too old.

Horrendous service aside, the meal was excellent and I got to try a Delicia Limone which was wonderful. After a lovely walk back through this quintessential Italian village, leaning towards the retirement side, we settled in for an early night as Venice beckons tomorrow.

— Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

9. Rome

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Rome

June 5th, 2018

When people think of Rome they think of the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, pizza and the Vatican. This entry isn’t about any of those things, but is about half of one of them.

After dragging ourselves up to greet the today, we had breakfast and Meg made us some Bumble sandwiches before we began the highly ritualised fashion show. The Vatican seems to have a thing against shoulders and knees - something that would turn out to be of no great import - so we both hunted for something to wear to wear that would hide these offending body parts from the fragile male catholic gaze. I ended up wearing one of Meg’s dresses and mum’s cardigan making me feel like an over-eager primary school teacher who matches each below-the-knee dress to its own unique cardigan.

After a strange ‘Good-morning’ exchange with John, we navigated the metro crossing and picked one to the several stops dedicated for Vatican City. Exiting the metro we were immediately bamboozled by people trying to sell us “skip the line by going in another line” tickets to the Vatican. With only minor annoyance we spotted the Basilica dome and headed ‘that-a-way’. Along the way we stopped at a couple of market stalls and purchased a bracelet each for “one euro just one euro”.

The line for the Musei Vatican was quite long and the entrance blocked by pestering men trying to sell more annoying tours. Leaving all the Creepy McCreppersons behind we met a lovely woman from Sweden and her husband from Ipswich - who met in Crete in 1979 in case you were curious. Satisfied that we had escaped the ticket mongers and we had a satisfactory British barrier we enjoyed our picnic in line and had one aborted game of i-Spy before passing the time with a marathon of the ‘name game’.

The line moved swiftly and we made our way into the museum and stuck to our Swedish-British family as we found the ticket office. If you ever ned proof that those ticket mongers of the street are just creepy swindling bastards know this: he wanted to sell us €40 tickets, we got in for €8.

The Vatican museum is a work of art in itself. Reminiscent of the Louvre, the ceilings and walls are richly decorated with no square inch of concrete/brick visible.

Musei Vaticani is a mix of sculptures and paintings from Egypt, Greece and Italy - making it a bit confusing for those of us prone to the forgetting of the here and now. We were pleasantly surprised as we were expecting a timeline of mumbo-jumbo and instead were treated to an artistic journey through some of my favourite time periods. Along the way Meg put up with me guessing which mythological creature was depicted in each artwork.

The bonafide mate of a museum crescendoed up to the Capelle di Rafello where we were faced with a-level philosophy war flashbacks of the School of Athens. My noggin’ was proven to be leak-proof as I remembered the philosophy and art history behind the paining - a sad yet somewhat noticeable reality of the current Mira situation. Oh yeah, and to get to this chapel the Vatican staff have obviously received divine inspiration that erecting balcony so you walk around the rooms before walking through them is simply the most effective way of doing things - doesn’t seem too right to me but who I am to argue with the architectural advice of the big guy?

Our day was concluded with a quick visit to the crowning glory: The Sistine Chapel. We somehow managed to stumble in during a prayer service and I found my catholic education flooding back to me as I automatically repeated all the right words - an automatic process only slightly less creepy than the brainwashing of the ritualised pledge of allegiance.

Seeing the ‘Last Judgement’ and ‘creation and descent of man’ again was incredible and even more amazing when not viewed through six-year old eyes. The chapel itself was so packed this time I didn’t get a chance to follow in my dad’s footsteps and test fate by laying on the floor so that’ll just have to remain a six-year old me thing. The chapel is breathtaking and you can easily see why it attracts crowds from all over - bu the crowds do put a damper on your enjoyment of the old thing.

Our way out was marked by a frankly ridiculous amount of gift shops that honestly just make me a bit sad. But the stain of capitalism aside, it was a magical day. We emerged from the depths of the museum too late to go to the Vatican itself, so that will have to be another tale. Our wander back home was marked by a ridiculously heavy rainfall but we made it back home and cooked mountains and mountains of pastaaaaaaaaa.

-Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

8. Rome

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Rome

June 4th, 2018

After dragging ourselves out of bed we split the last bowl of cereal and had a kinder-brioss each. The biggest fault of Italy? Many would say facism, or the mafias, or Mussolini himself, but they would all be sorely wrong. Italy’s biggest crime is their lack of kettles. I mean, the Leaning Tower of Pisa and the Colosseum are nice and all, but have you ever had a nice cuppa in the early morning. Not to be defeated by the Italians and determined to bring some semblance of english propriety to this Roman visit, I old-fashioned boiled water in a pan and threw some teabags in. The second fault of Italy? Their love affair with espresso. Which leads to a consequential lack of normal sized cups. Let me tell you, you haven’t truly lived until you’ve started your morning with with an espresso shot of earl grey that you brewed in a pot.

Surviving the trauma of the morning tea extravaganza, we were forced to cower like frightened, baby deer as Claudia brought a new guest into the apartment. After hiding under the bed sheets like the confrontation-avoidant Brits we are, we finally got our arses into gear. We left the apartment and successfully navigated the bridge between Rome’s two metro lines and found ourselves at Piazza del Spagna aka the Spanish Steps.

After a brief trot up the steps and down again, we treated ourselves to more gelato - we are in Italy after all - before weaving up an down Rome’s artsy streets on the way to the Trevi Fountain. 

The journey was broken up by quick pops into shops - where we quickly discovered that everything is always cheaper and better in the last shop. One remarkable event saw a lady try to buy a bottle of water and a single can of coke with a 50 euro note, to which the cashier just *looked into the camera like [he] was on the office*.

Our Italian meanderings ended a the Fountana di Trevi. This is an incredibly impressive piece of architecture and well deserving of its fame. I first visited this fountain 13 years ago when I was six, I guess the myth that tossing a coin in the fountain means you’ll return to Rome is true. 

The steps were jam-packed like Piccadilly Circus - or the circle line at rush hour - but we successfully fought our way to the front and a boomerang a piece, serves as proof to our coin-tossing skills. We spent a moment just sat at the side of the fountain reigning in our dreams like Poseidon and his hippokampus (or Neptune I guess - silly Romans). Deciding it to be a good day well spent we once again navigated Rome’s public transport system home.

We finally briefly met the resident of Room One - we still don’t know his name so we’re calling him John. After a dinner of tortellini and cheap wine - seriously, you could taste every cent - we found ourselves here. Me writing these banging words of wisdom and Meg knitting on the sofa - quite picturesque really. Well it’s off to the Vatican tomorrow, so I’ve got to find something to cover those pesky knees and shoulders.

— Mira Sophia

P.S. Oh yeah, a KO country of clumsy yours truly may have restyled in a twisted ankle but we shall see. Oh well, what’s a holiday without a little injury.

[bumblingtravels]

7. Rome

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Rome

June 3rd, 2018

Today was the perfect Roman day and as I write this an old lady (who we’re calling Maria) is starring at me from her balcony and I can hear someone playing the flute: scene-set.

Today we journeyed as the ancient Romans did centuries ago and travelled via the very authentic metro. Using the high class skills that university has taught us, we deduced that the stop ‘colosseo’ was most likely the stop for the colosseum - I know, we’re just crazy smart like that. The metro system in Rome is simple and amazing - definitely the best we came across - and walking out of the station we immediately found ourselves at the foot of Rome’s somewhat popular destination for the swish swish sword fight peeps.

We were immediately bamboozled by a seemingly endless stream of people trying to sell us fans, umbrellas and “free information! I give tours!” Weaving in and out of the growing crowds and resisting the urge to shout at the pestering tour guides - “we don’t need tickets it’s free” and “no thanks, no tour guide; I’ve read the Asterix comics” - we followed an Australian lady and made it to the right queue. Now these tour guides are all preaching bollocks because the two hour wait time we were promised ended up being a sweet 10minutes - so screw you rip-off Rome, these bee gals have gots this.

The colosseum itself is as amazing and wonderful as you would imagine it to be. It was a blistering hot day and weaving through the catacombs of this Modern Wonder of the World made withstanding 30℃ heat more than worth it. It’s just so incredible to be standing in the same place that centuries ago attracted crowds from all over to watch gladiators fight each other an starving lions - like much of history, this too is a monument drenched in blood. But leaving the morbid element behind, the sheer amount of history and architectural  brilliance that we found ourselves surrounded by will never fail to leave me awed.

Bucket list ‘Colosseum’ : check [x]

Escaping the heat briefly we sniffed out some gelato and made a short attempt at visiting the ruins before the blistering heat drove us away. Instead we weaved back through the crowds and had a cheeky gander up some cute and very Italian streets where I proceeded to continue my documentation of every leap of faith I could spot - lets be honest by this point my main knowledge of Rome comes from Assassin’s Creed.

We made our way back towards the colosseum - very hard to get lost with landmarks like that around - and stopped to have dinner in a cute little cafe across a bridge from it.

 Dinner itself was a slow affair as it turns out that it doesn’t matter how good the pizza is, looking at the colosseum can be a tad distracting: who would have guessed? Still I must say, eating pizza in front of the colosseum, when three days ago you were picnicking under the Eiffel Tower, not a bad life at all.

Our journey back home saw us having a quick photo break at a very conveniently placed bridge just opposite the colosseum - opposite also a church that just made you long for a real life ‘r1’ and ‘x’. After another brief stop to take some pictures for a very American trio we made our way back to our little apartment - saying goodbye to one of Rome’s most treasured sights.  

- Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

6. Milan -> Rome

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Milan —> Rome

June 1st & 2nd, 2018

After a very limited snoozle on the sleeper train - interrupted by the Switzerland police and Italian train steward - we arrived in Milano Central. Saying goodbye to our bunkmate, not forgetting Gregg from the Isle of Wight, we found ourselves in the fanciest station I have ever been in. There were paintings and sculptured ceilings, all very reminiscent of some old-timey rich folks station - I’m talking Downton Abbey standards.

By this point we were both so bone-weary tired we immediately stumbled in the direction of McDonalds and the glowing yellow ‘M’ of freedom, beauty and all the goodness that is left in this world - at least for starving students. After a McMuffin and croissant each we found our heads a-nodding and Meg settled - more like rapidly descended like Mufasa falling victim to a stampede - to a nice lil nap, while I mindless scrolled. About an hour had passed interrupted with brief Meg risings before a strange security man told her “no napping, not safe”. Well excuse me Mr. Security Man, but I am awake and perfectly capable of watching two suitcases, two backpacks and one 19 year-old; and, if something does happen Mr. Security Man, then you’re not doing your job very well are you Mr. Security Man.

Feeling suitably miffed, we left the haven of golden arches - and the strange wall of carrots they were rocking - and settled in for a long, long, sleepy wait.

Three hours later we were sitting pretty in the jazziest train I’ve ever been in - honestly TrenItalia trains are some of the nicest trains and definitely make travelling Italy by train a breeze. We ended up having to walk all the way down to the caboose, but let me tell you this caboose be fancy. The plushiness and comfiness saw us napping the majority of the way to Rome with brief interludes to watch the gorgeous Italian countryside go zoom.

Purchasing a week ticket - definitely recommended to any travellers visiting Rome the metro system is the easiest one we came across - we easily navigated the Rome metro to Monte Tiburtina and emerged into the stifling heat of a hot, rip Roman summer day. A quick fumble with directions brought us to our apartment where we met our AirBnb host the lovely Claudia.

The apartment was acute and cozy little thing, with a quintessential kitchen and our own little balcony. We haven’t yet the other guest yet but we fear he may be a lad - either way we’re calling him Pierre. That night we got take out from “the best pizzareria in town!” - it really was - and settled down early to sleep.

- Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

5. Paris

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Paris

May 31st, 2018

Sleeper trains are one of the more unusual quirks of travelling around Europe. I thought travelling the Trans-Siberian Railway was preparation enough for the experience but it turns out, Mongolia? not quite like France. Anyways, more on that adventure later.

Getting ready for checkout today was done in record time. The bees are getting speedier, you would be very, very proud (whoever ‘you’ are). After a slow start getting out of bed, we dragged ourselves away from Morpheus’ embrace and into the land of the living, bemoaning our aches and pains as we went. Needless to say, by this point in the adventure our feet are a-hurting. Nevertheless, we managed to quickly pack, tidy and get ourselves ready for the day (and check-out) in a hot 30minutes, and before we knew it, we were ready for the day.

Lugging suitcases across the Paris metro system is an adventure in itself. With only minor bumps and bruises, we managed to make it to Paris Gare-de-Lyon and navigated our way to the luggage lock-up. Now I know Europe’s a it economically screwed right now, but €9.50 for one medium sized locker is a bit ridiculous! - what are they trying to fund another fancy-shmancy tower … I’d like it known now that if they are I want a huge-ass plaque written in my name; I think the Tower a-la Mira has a nice ring to it.

Despite going broke on a locker, we managed to navigate ourselves out of the metro system and, after procuring some baguette sandwiches and pastries, we made our way once again to the Louvre. Idealistic picnic spots seem to be a thing with us as we saw ourselves having yet another picturesque picnic in the gardens spanning out from the Louvre. Apart from the fact that it seemed to be the day for every school trip to visit the Louvre, we had a relaxing and wonderful time in our little cranny of garden.

The cute bubble of calm was only briefly interrupted by the oh-so-normal occurrence of four girls coming up to us and pestering us to donate money to orphans - you know, the usual course of events. I’m pretty sure we were inches away from adopting about seven orphaned children, but a quick bribe with a stale pack of gum seemed to be enough to push them along and they went on their way. The sun was fully shinning on our last Paris day and the fitting conclusion fuelled our spirits and boosted us onto Port de Arts aka the love-lock bridge.

At this point, I’d just like to send a letter out to all of Paris - subject: why? message: why?? You see, two years ago the French government saw it in their infinite wisdom to remove all the locks from the bridge and put up a glass barricade so that no one would be able to put up new ones. This didn’t stop the lovers of the world from drawing on the glass and locking onto lamp posts, but it’s besides the point. Was there really and need? Who were these acts of love hurting? Okay fine, the bridge railings were folding under the weight of the locks and there was long-term structural damage blah blah blah, but still. This beautiful simple act that united lovers from all over the world has now been haunted. And you what’s really the worst part? Ben and Leslies’ eternal love story is lost somewhere amongst all the rest - *moment of silence for the ending of the greatest, most wholesome show there ever was*.

We stopped to sit on the banks of the Seine to wallow in our sorrows, curse the French government and tend to our pilfered souls. Deciding not to let the whims of the Parisian Council get us down, we plotted a course to the Pantheon in order to get us an eye-full off snazzy pendulums and feminist tombs.

However, like many many things this holiday, that too didn’t go to plan as we, along our route, looked up and remembered oh yeah… Notre Dame’s a thing.

The queues to get into the cathedral itself were long and promising of a stretched-out hot wait, so we bypassed the impressive gothic monument for the crypts that lay below. The crypts themselves bear the carcass of the cathedral’s catacombs and digital reconstruction videos allow you to visualise the way of life back then. A roundabout history lesson later, we emerged back into the heart of Paris and began our outward journey.

Gare-de-Lyon is a massive building with endless halls intersection into each other and a mass of people seemingly moving as on entity in the exact opposite direction of your own destination. After several wrong turns, we managed to make it to Hall 1 and plonked ourselves down in free real-estate to await the platform announcement.

The train was delayed by 10 minutes and the platform was only designated 3 minutes before it was due to leave. Nevertheless, we made it to the platform and elbowed our way through the crowds - can’t wait to get back to the queuing lifestyle of the Brits - and found our carriage 85 and bunks 63 and 65.

Well there you have it. The first leg of our interrailing adventuring complete - it’s Facebook office and everything. Right now I’m sat in our sleeper carriage with three others - one being ‘Hi I’m Gregg from the Isle of Wight. We get into Milan at 6am tomorrow so I think it’s time for me to catch some zzz’s. Until next time, I’ll write from Rome….

- Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

4. Paris

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Paris

May 30th, 2018

What a roller-coaster, roundabout day. After a well deserved snoozle and some interest Meg sleep-talk about towels, we began our day. We had a quick breakfast (cornflakes with some ‘where’s Waldo’ level milk) and made some sandwiches for our picnic. getting ready quickly we embarked on our day, once again with juxtaposed yet similar outfits - I’m staring to see a theme here.

We’ve finally cracked the Paris RER and Metro system and we were able to cut back on precious walking time - and save our feet - by catching the RER line straight to the Eiffel Tower (Champ de Mars). Reaching the Champ de Mars Gardens is a maze only made more intense by what we would later find out to be a match of the French Open. 

It turns out that the gardens at the foot of the great Eiffel Tower ain’t too shabby a spot for a picnic. We found an adorable little spot just to the left of the beaten track and set ourselves up with sandwiches, biscuits and Fanta - I know very French! - the food all shaded by a propped up umbrella of course. The idealistic spot for perfect for a quick bite to eat and a much longer reading break where I got to finally read some more ‘Raven King’ aka the final instalment of the greatest of the greatest series ever - seriously go and read it, its amazing; and if you have read it you know what I’m talking about. 

This scenic spot also lent itself to some poetry inspiration: it’s quick and shabby but why the hell not…

Up and up the steel does climb,

The wandering verdicts of a chosen few.

Back and forth the metal sways,

The chosen haven of the meandering soul.

Up to the sky,

Firmly planted on the ground.

Up and down,

The traveler does climb.

The towering monument,,

The symbol of strength.

A steadfast guardian,

A city of love.

The first upward climb of our first rollercoaster came when we were beginning to think about leaving the tower behind. A young woman came up to us and  proceeded to tell us, in quite vivid detail about how she pissed on her shirt and was wearing her pyjamas still; needless to say, she was very very drunk. After that baffling encounter we figured it was time to set off and leave the crazy youths of today behind.

The next and final stop - and yes I am aware that we’ve only done one other thing - on our quintessential Paris day was of course the Louvre and that painting everyone’s always banging on about. Emerging from the ‘Palais Royal’ metro stop, we were immediately submerged in French culture as we found ourselves opposite a pirate selling crepes - I know, very authentic.

The Louvre was everything one would imagine: glass pyramids, copious street vendors, fountains, historic buildings and lots of pigeon shit - you know, magical. All jokes aside it is a wonderful place and I can easily see why so many people love it.

 I would sit here longer and wax poetically about the shimmering water and towering glass pyramids but its half midnight and frankly I’m shattered, so I’ll give you the highlights: 

Mona Lisa = on point (with bonus mosh pit)

Winged Victory (Nike) = bloody beautiful, 

and the Louvre itself = well put me down as awed and gob-smacked.

Time doesn’t exist in the Louvre, so by the time we emerged it was quite late and we were very tired with sore feet. A metro an RER train later, saw us back in Gentilly and home-sweet-home. We tended to our blisters and packed our bags for tomorrow and here we are.

It’s the sleeper train tomorrow; breakfast in Paris, lunch in Milan, dinner in Rome - not a bad life at all.

- Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

3. Paris

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — Paris

May 29th, 2018

Well… what a day. The summary of said day is definitely: rain, bombs, thinking, rain. Really that about sums it up, don’t know if I even have to write this entry, but I suppose it gives me something to do while I wait for the pasta to boil. So here we go… section one: rain.

After waking up to our alarms and promptly deciding ‘fuck it Morpheus take me’, we managed to leave the apartment at a reasonable time, definitely compared with the 16:00s of Edinburgh, though thats another story for another time. In juxtaposed dresses and corresponding white cardigans we left the apartment and immediately opened our umbrellas - seems last nights thunderstorm wasn’t done with us yet. Managing to buy the right RER train ticket this time, we made our way to Saint Michel’s Notre Dame.

We emerged from the underground towards the surface of Paris for our first day in the City of Love, and of course… because life hates me like that, it was pissing it down. We managed to snap a few snaps of Notre Dame and the Seine River before, belly rumblings reminded us that humans tend to need to eat. Our noble quest for sustenance took us down quaint little market streets, boasting a never ending supply of restaurants; a surprise number of which were Greek but none a simply good old-fashioned french bakery.

Continuing on our quest (I’m warning you it’s about the length of the second Lord of the Rings movie… extended edition), we were quickly put on alert by thresher amount of police riot vans and general police presence. Shrugging it off as a potential quirk - you know, Paris: bakeries, Mona Lisa, frog legs, Eiffel Tower and police vans - we continued in the direction of ‘that-a-way’. As with Egg Man yesterday, a spotting of a Deliveroo driver kicked our student instincts into gear; and after a quick search (on the ready installed app) we headed in the direction of Smith’s bakery, but not before a quick stroll through a park with bicycles strategically placed to create the best aesthetic.

Smith’s bakery itself was an adorable slice of flour heaven and we came out bearing one cheese and ham toastie, one baguette sandwich and two eclairs (chocolate and caramel for precise recollection). Deciding it best to find a nice park somewhere and eat our breakfast-cum-lunch, we headed in the direction of Luxembourg gardens.

Now, here’s the thing. Macron? Apparently not a nice guy. Remember that police presence I was talking about? Yeah, apparently ‘bad president + police riot vans = protest’. Our first view of Luxembourg was through the clouded view of tear gas and smoke bombs interspersed with hi-vis vests of police and to the cadence of protest. Not exactly a situation ripe for two young girls from Cheshire. we aimed to skirt around the protest - our travel insurance doesn’t cover political uprising I don’t think, although I always did fancy myself an Enjolras. As we got closer the smoke bomb warning *bangs* caused us to back track and head away. No harm, no foul as we found a cute little bench to eat our Smith’s bakery delicacies.

Side-note: those eclairs where amazing and Tescos seriously needs to step up its eclair game.

We plotted a route to the Museum D’Orsay and detoured quickly though a cute photography market and exhibition. Along the way, we purchased our snow globe and shot glass collectibles before continuing ‘on to Art’. This particular museum’s lines were ridiculously long and so, deciding that life is too short we instead plotted a course for one of my main picks: Rodin’s Museum.

Rodin’s museum ended up being a sculpture garden and all it took was a trip to the toilet to bring the sun back in full force (rip Meg’s shoulders). Getting in for free (all EU students) was a lovely bonus that you Brits will regret after Brexit. First stopping the aptly named sculptor garden: The Thinker.

Created by Rodin, The Thinker is a mighty big old geezer sitting on a rock in his birthday suit having a good old think in a pose recreated by me every time I have a shit. This work of art was the first test to the previously mocked selfie stick to varying degrees of success. Regardless of our white-girl selfie skills, the sculpture itself is breathtaking and the first thing on this trip to be ticked off the bucket list. After a quick snap of our rainbows, and several ‘thinking’ puns later, we continued on our way. 

The whole gardens are beautiful: sculptures scattered around, a beautiful fountain and capped by the Thinker and the Gates of Hell on either side. The Gates of Hell being another highlight for me and a breathtaking piece of art.

Leaving the sculptures, Hades’ world and thinking puns behind, we spotted the Eiffel Tower and decided ‘yep’. A quick detour saw us walking past the Grand Plais and the snazziest bride you have ever seen.

 We also undertook a pilgrimage of sorts for Meg as we visited The Flame of Liberty, erected in honour of Princess Diana above the tunnel where she died.

Tourist worthy pictures were taken on the bridge opposite the Eiffel Tower (complete with our bee rainbows pictures of course), before we ventured over to Paris’ crowning jewel. Countless lyrics have been waxed poetical and thousands of yarns spun about this iconic sight so I’ll keep my descriptors short and silly say my first thought: ‘didn’t realise it was brown’.

A quick bench stop outside the tower saw us realising it was 7pm and we should probably start hustling. After waiting for 30minutes at a public restroom, that cleaned itself after every use - a good idea but not exactly economical or environmental - we went to one train station to find it closed so ventured to the next. After a quick stop to get some postcards - 10 for €2 don’t mind if I do - we got on our double decker metro and headed home. A shower each and two heaped bowls of pesto pasta saw us flopped down like beached seals. So here we are 22,604 steps and 14.4km later, bone-tried and in need of a nap. I’ve rambled on and on and it’s time to embrace Morpheus so I shall wish you goodnight.

— Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

2. England -> Paris

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — England —> Paris

May 28th, 2018

Sleeping through five alarms the morning of a major travel holiday is probably not the best omen. But I made it up ad to Holmes Chapel after a very tearful goodbye to Perseus* - I’ve only been back two days and I’m off again, poor budsy he must be so confused. But anyway we made it to Crewe with no mishaps except for one confused ticket inspector, but I don’t think he really gave a shit anyway.

The only mishap we’ve had so far is the train to London that was so packed we had to sit outside the toilets for a good 15minutes, but it made for good people watching at least - especially this one lad who went in the toilet for 2 seconds before retreating and hurrying back to his seat like Vlad the Impala himself has emerged from the toilet bowl. We were all very confused but the lady after him returned with no injuries… better luck next time Vlad.

After squatting some chairs vacated by a departed couple - the non-death kinda departed - we seamlessly enjoyed the rest of our trip to London Euston.

I managed not to get us lost on the way to St. Pancras which is hopefully a good sing for the rest of our trip. Fuelled with a good old M&S meal deal (fancy I know) we went through border control and found our seats: platform 9 / coach 10 / seats 35 and 36. After a short encounter with a woman who was very put out that her husband didn’t book first class, Meg relieved her bladder and the holiday mood properly sunk in. I’M GOING INTERRAILING!!

Oh yeah… first bruise of the holiday check [x]

                                                     * The cat not the greek demigod son of Zeus

continued… (22:48)

Well… what a day. So Paris Nord is just about the most complicated station in the world. After Meg successfully spotted RER B platform 44, we had to go upstairs in order to go downstairs but I guess that’s just how the French do it.

Arriving at Gentilly station we realised we had the wrong ticket so did as several others did and simply jumped the turn-style. It was a short walk down a very very French road to the apartment where we met Ri hard who showed us our room. It’s a dinky little thing. A little box of an apartment suited for the petite of us. I felt a bit like a naïve actor trying to make it in Broadway and staying in a shoebox so you can work less hours at the hipster cafe and spend more time on your “acting” - or you know… the woman who lived in a shoe.

Our hunt for dinner ended up being a barrel of lies and the rain fired us to promptly give up. Walking a short trek down crazy steep stairs and winding roads we reached a supermarket and started collecting food for dinner. We planned a simple pesto pasta before seeing a man with eggs and remembering … oh yeah, omelettes are a thing. Our quest to make an omelette - and yes quest is a very fitting word, some quests involve the holy grail and other the fountain of youth, but for two hungry students cheese and eggs is a very fitting quest - but I digress. We realised quickly that the omelette was not to be as the bottom was a-burning and the top be a-… not cooked. The omelette was obviously not meant to be and like Napoleon’s second invasion of Russia, or my first attempt at A-Levels, the omelette was abandoned for a classic scrambled eggs.

(At this point in the epic tale I would like to input that this failure is not a reflection of my cooking ability and I am a decent cook)

The dinner was saved however, by the adorable atmosphere created by me and Meg having a cute dinner in our dinky apartment. After we had tea and cookies while we studied maps of Paris and planned our next three days. This whole affair was to the epic backdrop of an intense thunderstorm, lightning replacing the missed candles.

All in all, a pretty good first day of European travels. As I write this Meg is currently dying over the series finale of Peter Kay’s Car Share so I better go and make sure she’s still alive. Until tomorrow dear friend, safe travels…

                                                                                                     — Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

1. England

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — England

May 27th, 2018

I don’t really know how to do this whole journal thing. God knows I tried as a kid but life’s a bit boring when you’re a seven year old whose latest scandal involves the practical soap opera of her polly pockets. But here I am, 20 years old and about to embark on what will be the adventure of a lifetime - hopefully.

Tomorrow I leave for interrailing so I am a stress ball of packing, organising and general mira-esque stress. But I’m going to try and make this journal thing work… I am going on an adventure after all and if it worked for Bilbo Baggins…

I’m going to start simply by laying out my itinerary, mainly because it needs to go somewhere and the printers jammed. But also because why the hell not so here we go.

May 28: Homes Chapel —> London Kings Cross 09:43-12:30

              St. Pancras —> Paris Nord 13:31-16:47

May 31: Paris Gare-De-Lyon —> Milano Centrale 19:10-06:00

June 1: Milano Centrale —> Rome Termini 12:20-15:40

June 7: Rome Termini —> Mogliano Veneto 11:50-15:38

June 9: Mogliano Veneto —> Treviso Centrale 21:09-21:25

            Treviso Centrale —> Wien HBF 21:36-07:55

June 10: Wien HBF —> Budapest-Keleti 08:42-11:02

June 13: Budapest-Keleti —> Wien HBF 8:40-11:21

June 16: Wien HBF —> Prague Hlavani Nadrazi 15:10-19:07

June 20: Prague Hlavani Nadrazi —> Berlin HBF 10:21-14:41

               Berlin HBF —> Koeln HBF 23:52-06:57

June 21: Koeln HBF —> Bruxelles MIDI 07:42-09:35

               Bruxelles MIDI —> Paris Nord 10:13-11:35

June 25: Paris Nord —> St. Pancras 14:43-16:02

               St. Pancras —> Holmes Chapel 16:40-19:00

Now back to packing hell. I’ve filed all the documents and it all looks very official. Clothes have easily been packed in half the suitcase now it’s just crying while I attempt everything else (insert crying laughing face emoji here).

                                                                                                     — Mira Sophia

[bumblingtravels]

0. An Introduction

There and Back Again… an Interrailing Story

8 cities, 6 countries, 4 weeks, 2 rainbows, 1 camera

PART ONE — An Introduction

You know those random moments you get? The ones where monkey brain takes control for 5 minutes and the next thing you know you’ve sold all your left shoes to Steve down the pub and brought thirty pygmy pigs and one alpaca. Well this adventure started out very much like that…

One of the most dangerous things in the world is a bored university student, especially one procrastinating when they should be revising for their exams. You see, when a bored, procrastinating uni student is left alone they plan things that they’ve always wanted to do but probably shouldn’t do right now - word to the wise, this danger is only increased by the addition of another bored, procrastinating uni student.

This deadly equation of ‘bored + student + procrastination = ??’ that directly led to this adventure as I turned to my fellow bored, procrastinating uni student (this is Meg) and laid out a plan for interrailing far more detailed then any of the revision I had done thus far.

Several months later we find ourselves here.

After several route revisions, and the somewhat organised chaos of finding places to stay, we were armed with a route, a list of AirBnbs, and one interrailing ticket each.

This travel blog will be a fluctuating detailed account of our journey through 8 different cities around Europe and the expected highs and lows of our adventure.

I hope you enjoy these ramblings as much as I enjoyed living them. So sit back, relax and enjoy a detailed, if at times chaotic, rendition of my month in Europe.

- Mira Sophia