The squat toliet

One week into my trip to thailand and I can officially say I have conquered the squat toliet! If you dont know what this is, please google it and think of me. There are two pads for your feet and a porceline hole, thats about it folks. Although, thanks to tourists it is not everywhere it certainly does exist and I have used it more than a handfull of times by now. When you do find a normal toliet, toliet paper is out of the question because for some reason thailand hasnt figured out what to do with the stuff in their sewage system. So there is always a paper basket beside the toliet for the used stuff, yum yum!
PS- for your viewing pleasure I have now uploaded photos to my blog, although not one of me on the squat toliet sorry.

Tuk Tuk

We left the choatic streets of Bangkok to search for peace and quiet in Kanchanarubi. I was amazing that a short taxi ride to the bus station allowed us to catch a bus within 5 minutes and we were on our way! Not to mention the fact is cost us about $3 to travel the whole way!!! wtf. Upon our arrival we caught the first Tuk Tuk that grabbed our bags and put them on a little pole on that back of his bike. To make this image more clear I think I need to describe exactly what a tuk tuk is... well its a little man on a bike with a chair/small bench on the back. So with our packs on the back, the thing already weighs double what this little man does. Then we hop in... this thing is meant for one. We barely fit on, we are sitting on top of each other and are moving at a snails pace. The poor man is dripping in sweat and we are laughing so hard, half from embarrasment, half from emphathy and the hilarity of the situation. We arrive to our guest house, check in and it was all that easy... despite the poor mans effort of course. Priceless!

Sweaty Betty- Destination Thailand

I arrived to Thailand safe and sound and immediately was relieved to ditch my wool sweater and winter toque. I feel as if I have flown into another dimension, after spending a month and a half in Europe. Hot and sticky I arrive in the streets of Bangkok at Koh San Rd. The smell of food fills the air and the streets are so crowded and narrow with shops that I barely squeeze though without knocking down everything in the marketplace. I find my hostel located in a small alley behind a clothing shop and am thankful to enjoy a cold beer while I read my book. I am sitting beside a sleeping kitten, sprawled out in the heat and I can hear the cooking of street vendors from all angles. I wait for Laura who went for a Thai massage (smart cookie) before we check in. I would have never believed in a million years I would be here in Thailand. I have been fighting my own expectations and the western mentality of the mainstream career obsession. The minute I let go of these societal norms I was blessed to end up in this very spot. Here is some food for thought:
"Life isn't about finding yourself, its about creating yourself".

German yoga

My flight out to Thailand brought me back to Berlin for a day and a half, just enough time to get my stuff together for a much warmer climate and take in a yoga class in Berlin. I had hopes that the language barrier wouldn't be an issue and my eyes would guide me smoothly through the class. Germans are notoriously known as efficient, passionate and 'by the book' type of people. However, in yoga those characteristics do not lead to the ideal type of practice. Perhaps it was the particular instructor I had or the studio I randomly walked into but it was the worst yoga class I have taken in my life. It was like a yoga to do list, moving from one pose to another without flow, moving the mat and blankets constantly and no breathing. I was almost stressed out during this practice, as I was told that my blanket was facing the wrong way and everyones blanket must be the same. Toes must be on the floor but heels on the mat and if you are not doing that correctly there is a girl that walks around the room and corrects you immediately. I understand tough love but it has never been a positive reinforcement for me. It does the opposite and I fail miserably. Perhaps the Buddhist monks and Yogis could teach the Germans (yes I am generalizing) a thing or two about the true practice and teachings of yoga. The zen was lost completely, along with my 12 Euros.
Off to Thailand and a sunnier outlook!
Much love,
Hillary

Happy Thanksgiving from Budapest, Hungary

I arrived in Budapest, home to my ancestry and immediately fell head over heels. This has been easily the most beautiful city in Europe, yes surpassing Paris with great ease. The architeture, everything from the turkish influence to neoclassical and art nouveau. Then turn a corner and you are suddenly sitting beside a glorious castle overlooking the Duna river. And yet this poor country has been tormented and survived both Hitler and Stalin, having its people torn at every which angle. Even though every bridge has been distroyed by WWII, today they stand glorious. I could not believe how large the city was that it is broken into two parts, Buda and Pest. It is very similar to Manhattan and New York City. I feel like I could easily spend months here and am very thankful that we were able to spend 5 nights here attempting to soak in the immense beauty. We biked, walked, bused, boated and subwayed Buda as well as Pest. Today we rewarded ourselves by soaking our aching bodies in the Turkish-era thermal baths. I could not imagine a more beautiful place to spend my Canadian Thanksgiving. xoxo

Lvov, Ukraine

We arrived to Lvov, Ukraine at 6am tired and exhausted after an overnight bus ride in order to save money and time. Although, money was saved, the ordeal was not worth it and after stepping in a spilled beer (yes on a bus) and having a seat reclined by our neighbour up to the point of complete discomfort, we will stick to trains in the future! We arrived in a different world, a form of soviet existance in a city that is trying to reclaim its reputation and standard of living. Lvov was the only city that was able to survive WWII without any damage and the buildings, although not all up kept, reflect architectural genuis. The city is beautiful but there is an underlining sense of poverty and a people who are just trying to get by. There was not a tourist in sight, which I hoped had something to do with the low season and then there was the fact that no one spoke any english. When we found our hostel, it was aparent we needed to find other accomodation- and quick! It was in a rundown alley and up a winding staircase right out of the movie hostel, no thank you! We left our bags claiming to be in search of 'a bank' and opened up the Lonely Planet guidebook for any other options. We managed to find Hotel George, located in an old historic building with character but in a much safer location. You need to realize this is the first time I have stayed in a hotel the entire trip and we felt quite posh. Nonetheless, when you do the conversion to the Canadian dollar, the price was about $15 each per night **in a hotel!!
However, the language barrier did not end throughout our experience in Lvov. At the train station on our way out we had the same problem trying to get anyone to helps us to buy a train ticket OUT of the Ukraine.
I often feel ignorant for only speaking English and try my best in each new country to speak the native tongue, but in an information center, let alone a major and only train station in the city, the absence of other languages was very frustrating. Thankfully and wonderful young man helped us out, when he asked us where we were from and we replied, 'Canadian' he was ecstatic! I don't think we would have survived or left the Ukraine without him! *thank you!* When we asked him where he was from, he replied in a strong Ukrainian accent, "I'm a Ukrainian guy!" and laughed. He told us how jobs are hard to come by and his mother works in Italy in order to send the family over Euros. For twenty euros sent by his mother, he can "live like a king." He told us of his dream to live and work in Canada after he finishes his studies, a masters in Electrical Engineering. He went on to say that there is no bad news on television about Canada. To quote him, "In the USA you always see somebody killed another (insert the N bomb here)". Me in Nick stared at each other in disbelief! Did he just drop the N bomb? Nonetheless, with his help we left the Ukraine and took the overnight train to Budapest, Hungary. Phew!

Eastern Europe- revenge of the bottled water

It has become apparent that an individual is supposed to avoid drinking tap water in Eastern Europe due to some weird water treatment system. So, naturally I curse the bottled water and the waste it creates on our eco-system, but in this situation I have little to no choice. Day 1- in Poland we decide to buy the cheap water... it turns out to be strawberry water! Yuck! Whomever created flavored, aspartame water should be outright punished! Day 4- Ukraine, I buy a 2 L water that is in fact carbonated. How do I discover this? While opening it on the overnight train and it explodes all over me and the train window, sleeper and carpet. Perhaps that is why we were held up for 3 hours at customs in the Hungarian boarder.
I curse you bottled water!

Krakow, Poland

The purpose of my trip to eastern europe had much to do with exploring my heritage and where my family lived before they were displaced by the war, against their will. Thus, today after spending two days exploring the beautiful city of Krakow we set the day aside to go to Auschwitz. The camp is situated 60km outside of Krakow and by luck our bunkmates were also going there via car. We took the trip up to the camp and immediately the mood changed. I was concerned with confronting the ghosts of my family, as well as visiting the camp my grandmother, along with her sister overcame but their four brothers never left. Although it was a somber experience it was odd to see the life that exists there now. Despite the hate and ignorance that created the camp, the grass is now growing and covering up the evidence of what once existed. I visited Dachau in Munich (also a location my grandmother was interned at) but Auschwitz and Birkeneau are very well perserved and left with haunting remains. To think that one man's hatred fuelled a nation to killed millions of people based souly on their religion (not race) merely nothing that an individual can control, created such bloodshed. The prison gates are labelled, "work will set you free" when in actuality the whole thing could have been avoided if individuals would have spoken against the regime. It was silence that attempted to kill an entire culture. We walk through these ghosts and we cannot believe that something like this has happened or was allowed to happen. And yet, it still occurs today- in Bosnia, in Cambodia, we continue to live our everyday lives as people suffer. Do not let silence be your biggest regret.

Amsterdam & Berlin

After two nights in Amsterdam, I said goodbye to the Contiki crew and was happy to invite a fellow Canadian on the next part of my journey. After all those Aussies, I met Nickolas at the airport and toured Amsterdam. We saw the Van Gogh Museum, Anne Frank house (which got me surprisingly more emotional than Dachau, the original place of my grandmothers imprisonment) and of course the red light district. We made our way to Berlin for a Berlin Birthday by train and possibly paid way too much for the train ticket to aviod being in transit on my birthday...?
Berlin is quoted to be, "poor but sexy" and it lives up to that name. I can see how my sister lived here for 6 months. The town is packed with trendy people, beautiful architecture that is covered in graffiti to give it an unexpected charming appeal. We spent most of our time at the Berlin wall and the East Gallery. I could not believe how recent the fall of the wall was and how so many families, lovers and friends were separated during that time. We spent the following day seeing the city by bike and falling head over feet in love with the Berlin music scene and the quaint city. We left Berlin with a hostel reservation and plane ticket to return before I leave for Thailand. We took the overnight train to Krakow, Poland and after reading the warning of travelers being gassed and robbed we slept with a double bolted locked door (plus travel lock on the end), hugging our bags and each other. I woke up frequently throughout the night hearing strange languages and letting my imagination get the best of me. I was certain the chattering was directed at our cabin and how these vegabonds would drug and rob us- although, I am sure they were just warmly greeting each other and discussing how fast their children are growing. The train was in actuality a beautiful and peaceful ride and I would reccomend to anyone to NOT read the travelling advice on this journey. There was two private bunks, two locks, free water and face cloths, as well as friendly staff. We arrived safely in Poland and have checked into a dirt cheap hostel with way too many freebees but with a mental note to consider taking day trains to quiet our vivid imaginations or atleast our good luck. No ninjas to speak of.... yet... but perhaps we should keep it that way.
PS- should we stop in Slovakia on our way to Budapest, Hungary?? Anyone been?

Communist Prague and Oktoberfest, Munich- Germany

Today we drove through Bohemia and stopped in the Medieval town of Cesky Krumlov, as we made our way to Prague. I explored the Jewish quarter and took a gander at the Communist museum, took a pic with Stalin and called it a day! After Prague we made our way to Bavaria's capital, Munich, home of the Oktoberfest. We were left in town for a frantic scramble to buy a Dertle for the ladies and Lederhosen for the gentlemen. At the hefty price of 80 plus Euros and 160 for the men, I settled for a vintage hat at 10 Euros instead. My expectation of Oktoberfest were very misguided. I expected white tents with drunken fools, fights and overall debauchery. However, it was non of the sort. Oktoberfest is about the appreciation of beer and German culture, not about getting drunk. Although, the end result is the same (at 1L steins per glass). Individuals wear their lederhosen with pride, not for the tourists. The opening grounds are actually a theme park and then ten plus magnificent and elaborate wooden structures that are overcrowded with live German bands (think 'um, pa pa, um pa pa') friendly people, young and old (even children) celebrating good health and unity. The waitresses are magnificent in traditional wear, carrying 4 steins in each hand, comparable to about 8, 10 pound dumbbells. Holding one up just to drink took two hands for me. Our table, although complete strangers were our long lost best friends for the night, mixed with German, English and Spanish speaking origins. We sang German songs (although I do not speak a word of German, I would often sing melodically.... 'someethinnnng, in Gerrrrmaaannn' to the correct tune and no one was the wiser). We were even served a traditional German cake, topped with rich cream by the ladle and fruit toppings from our new German friends (picture two pot bellied German old men with flannel shirts and grey wool sweaters, although the tent was stifling hot) in between cheers of our glass steins. If someone could tell me the name of that cake it would be much appreciated.
A fabulous way to end my experience in Germany. Prost!

Vienna, Dance Haven

"If there is a dance God, we just found it". It all began with me being frustrated as we are taken to one western club after another. Tonight, we were once again taken to a pub with no local flavour or culture and after a mix up in communication, like a heard of sheep I followed the group to the bus instead of to what I thought was the next destination that evening. Fed up, I jumped ship with two other volunteers. After asking a few locals for some suggestions we came up with nothing forgetting it was a Sunday night and not everyone is on vacation like us. Nut luck would have it we stumbled into a skate park and some locals simply said, wait 15 mins I know a place and I will walk you there. We proceeded down a bridge covered in grafitti, down some sketch alley and into 'Flex,' an underground, indie dance club. Young, talented DJs, energetic and consuming vibes in Vienna! Finally the taste of the Europe dance scene I was waiting for, unbelieveable.

Contiki Camping & Venice

To give you a sense of what traveling Europe by tent is like, I will attempt to explain the daily rituals known as Contiki. We awake confused, exhausted, and stumble out of bed to de-erect our tents. One cough echos into a symphony of 46 (they call it the 'Contiki cough', I call it the plague) as it takes us out one by one. We re-pack our over stuffed bags, filled with clothes we never wear (you only wear what you can reach at the top of your pack) and souvenirs from the world wind of cities we have visited. Once all the tents are down, we stumble to breakfast and an ungodly early hour. This morning someone mentioned it was Saturday and in complete shock! I realized I somehow lost 4 days! I was absolutely convinced it was Wednesday, thanks to a ghetto and waterlogged watched that stopped working for a significant period of time. I loose track of the date, the time and the city we are in on a regular basis. It best to just sit back and attempt to soak it all in, the culture, the scenery and the immense beauty. The group has become somewhat of a family: dysfunctional, crazy and heart-warmingly loving all at the same time. A typical Jewish family to be exact. Thanks to the large amount of Aussies on our trip, we refer to each other as the 'shittest mates' (which is a good thing) and I know that at just over half way through the journey it will be painful saying goodbye to the friends I have made.
As the group entered Venice, the pace immediately changed and the enchanting city took us all under its embrace. The mercury canals are surrounded by stone carved buildings, all supported by beams and planks pounded into the waters base. This floating city forces you to slow down to a snails pace and embrace getting lost in the narrow side streets. The canal is Venice's only form of transportation, so the streets are not crowded by vehicles or westernization and suddenly you hear a violin playing from an open window.
After savoring my last Italian pasta, espresso and heaps of gelato, we ended the evening with a romantic gondola ride before saying goodbye to Italy.
Arrivederci, off to Vienna.