Last night I returned to Edinburgh after my first backpacking trip on the continent — what an adventure! I began in Paris before moving to Barcelona, Venice and finishing the trip in Dublin. Where do I begin? Let me start by sharing with you some of my impressions.
One of my companions over the course of my adventure asked me what I was most excited to see on the trip and, oddly enough, (without thinking really) I responded, “Discovering something I wasn’t looking for.” And even more oddly enough, I was able to do just that.
My favorite memories weren’t actually of seeing the Eiffel Tower for the very first time in Paris, joining the crowd to watch the Passion Procession in Barcelona, or even my first gondola ride in Venice. My favorite memories were ones that took me by surprise.
So much of what I enjoyed the most were experiences that suddenly and unexpectedly reminded me of back home. I loved feeling the ocean (or canal?!) breeze on my face in Venice, eating at a full dinner-table with Alyce’s family in Barcelona, and seeing everyday people rushing off to work in Paris. I even loved seeing laundry hanging from people’s windows in Venice. And call me crazy but Dublin bore a shocking resemblance to Boston and other parts of New England — absolutely shocking.
I loved the street performers in all of the cities. It’s tough to pick an absolute favorite, though if I had to decide I’d say it’s a toss-up between the accordion players who came upon us in the Metro in Paris, the opera singer tucked down an alleyway by La Catedral in Barcelona and the harp player situated right by Trinity in Dublin.
Before signing off, let me share with you my favorite memory from each city. First up, the photos. Then, some notes.
In Paris, I loved seeing the Eiffel Tower all lit-up at night. In fact, just as I was snapping my first photo of it, the tower began to glitter! Evidently, over the course of the evening additional lights are set to sparkle very much like the facade of Sak’s Fifth Avenue at Christmastime.
In Barcelona, I loved sitting at the top of Montjuic at night and listening to traditional Spanish music played by a street performer who had braved the many steps to where we were all sitting. Feeling the warm summer-like breeze and sitting on those steps listening to just a man and his guitar was lovely — the perfect way to end the day.
In Venice, it’s tough call. I did love sitting in San Marco Square at night listening to the live band of a nearby restaurant play “Dancing Cheek to Cheek.” But, in the spirit of honesty, I must admit that my favorite memory was the gelato. Before arriving in Venice, I thought gelato was just an Italian word for ice cream — how wrong I was! It is entirely different from ice cream. It’s exponentially more delicious.
In Dublin, my favorite memory was seeing the General Post Office on O’Connell Street, the site of the 1916 Easter Rebellion. As I’d been told before I saw it, the columns are indeed riddled with the bullet marks of that fateful time. It was extremely moving. I can’t quite describe it, other than to say that it’s the kind of experience that makes you so very proud of your heritage.
And, I must also admit that as wonderful as the backpacking was it feels great to be back in Edinburgh. Even after such a short time away I was already craving a good pint, an order of chips and a session at Sandy Bell’s. Caledonia was definitely calling me, as the song goes.
***Also, a note to explain the photos I’ve shown above. Firstly, I’ve shown the Eiffel Tower, followed by Monjuic at dusk where we heard the guitarist later that night. Then, I’ve included a photo of the gelato followed by the bullet marks on the columns of the GPO in Dublin.
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