"Cuándo estás en Roma..."

It was a constant struggle between the desire to close my eyes for a much needed rest and the need to look out the airplane window to look at the Alps as we flew over them on the way to Rome. They stretched along endlessly and the white, jagged peaks provided a stark contrast to the vivid, blue sky that filled the dome above them. We flew over the historic city on our way to land in the suburb of Campiano, and I could see ancient ruins dispersed randomly throughout the modern metropolis, which looked to be thoroughly confused about the date. Upon landing, we knew we had officially left the cold and gloomy north, and were soon basking in sun as we walked to the bus outside the small airport. We caught a metro from the last bus stop, and emerged above ground into the Termini train station, just a few short blocks away from the hostel in which we would be staying. The streets were busy with honking cars, whining scooters, and the occasion yell or whistle.
Our hostel was exactly opposite of what I had in mind, trying to be super trendy, while just lacking in the simple things like easy check-in and kind/relaxed staff that you actually look for in a hostel. The people who worked there were complete tools, but whatever. Moving on... As we couldn't check into our room for a few more hours, we dropped our backpacks into the storage room and took a quick walk around the neighborhood before meeting Chris and Kyle about an hour later back in the lobby, as they had arrived the night before and the trip to the hostel was much shorter than expected for Dave and me. When we arrived back, the guys were waiting for us, and it was such an incredibly strange feeling to know we were united again, thousands of miles from Madison, Wisconsin, after being separated for way too long. As Dave and I waited to check into our separate room, we caught up on our adventures that had brought us together, Dave and my epic journey, Kyle's long flight to Spain before spending a few hours with Chris who had been staying in Madrid, and their arrival in Rome the night before.

The first thing on the agenda was lunch, as we were all completely starving, and were thinking one thing, and one thing only... pizza. The staple food of a college student, it had been absent from my system in Madrid for far too many months to be considered normal. As we sat down at a restaurant, I could tell that reality still hadn't set in for any of us, and to be honest, it felt kind of weird to all be together again. After living and spending every waking moment with these guys the entire year before, I hadn't seen them in over four months, but within a matter of minutes, the chemistry returned to normal like we were back in 104 College Park. At that moment, I realized just how much I had missed having my best friends around me. My semester in Madrid had moved along like a blur, and while I had met a lot of cool people and made some really great friends, we naturally just didn't have the same type of relationship. Not like I did with these guys who had basically become my second family after moving away to UW-Madison.

The pizza was oh-so-delicious, and after a lazy walk back to the hostel, we separated so Dave and I could drop our backpacks in our room and we all met in the cafe next door where Chris and Kyle told us they had met some cool Slovenian girls next door to their room. Kyle had come bearing gifts from Jen, Mandy, and Tiffany, our lovely neighbor girls and close friends from the year before. It made me realize just how much I missed them too after seeing the photos they sent and reading the play list of the mix CD they made in memory of us. At that moment, I was ready to get back to Madison, and it was the first time that I truly questioned what I was doing spending a fourth of my college career in a different country. Time seemed to have escaped me, somehow, and only one more year at Madison seemed far too little. Looking back to my first days of moving into the lake shore dorms, it feels almost surreal to already be looking on to my senior year. While you don’t notice it day to day, it’s also interesting to see how much things have changed since then. Different relationships, different priorities, different concerns, all of which create a sort of nostalgia that leaves one longing for what once was despite how much one may value what is. There’s a fear that one day I’ll look back and wonder how these great years got away from me so quickly. I think these sentiments resonated a bit with all of us at that moment as we sat around the table together, our thoughts turned inward. There was a collective silence, and I think we all wished we could just see the girls for a few seconds to give them a hug, a look in the eye, and an ¨I miss you¨.

After gathering ourselves for a busy afternoon and evening, we decided to march toward the home of battle and blood its self, the Colosseum, which Kyle and Chris had walked past the night before. Naturally, we are all obsessed with the movie, Gladiator, including the movie quote master, Chris. Needless to say, I was expecting a flurry of Russell Crowe quotes to come spilling brilliantly from his lips, and indeed they did. We had arrived too late to enter the great amphitheatre that day, as well as the surrounding ruins, but we took our time in admiring the iconic symbol of Rome and the great Arch of Constantine that marked his rise as the sole emperor of the Western Roman Empire in 312, undermining the tetrarchy that has previously divided the empire after the retirement of Diocletian. As the sun began to set, we continued our walk into the center of town, past statues of different emperors, ruins scattered amongst modern buildings, and SPQR Senātus Populusque Rōmānus ("The Senate and the Roman People") covering everything. In one of the strangest acts of nature I have ever seen, we looked up into the sky that was showing signs of dusk only to see giant clouds of black birds moving like schools of fish in the ocean. They formed a solid figure that seemed to expand and contract, contorting into various shapes and formations. We wandered, partially guided by whim, partially by a map, through some of Rome’s smaller streets, finding plazas and giant basilicas and cathedrals around seemingly every corner, literally popping up out of nowhere. They were more modern that many of those I had seen in Spain, covered in giant frescos that left me wondering yet again how the human race was capable of such things so long ago.
Remembering my family trip to Italy in eighth grade, I distinctly recall being mesmerized by the Pantheon, built in 31 BC as a place of worship to the pagan gods. In the 7th century, it was converted into a Christian church, and it is the oldest standing domed structure in Rome. Above all, it is a chilling spectacle at night when it is all lit up, and it remains my favorite sight in Rome.

After a pizza dinner in one of the city’s many squares, listening to a very talented electric guitarist in another, and visits to a few more cathedrals along the way, we continued our walk along the Tiber River, which was beautifully lit by the city street lamps and a crescent moon. In an attempt to navigate ourselves back to the Colosseum through some foreign parts of town, we ended up getting a bit lost and walking through some areas that felt a bit too dark and isolated for weary travelers such as Dave and I, still running on an hour of sleep since we had been in Prague a few days before. Gradually, the rumbling of city traffic over the cobblestone streets grew louder, and we found ourselves walking back into semi familiar territory that felt like it was close to the Colosseum. Sure enough, the enormous monument showed itself over the hill to our left, looking positively haunting in the night. This was perhaps our most intimate experience with it, and free of the normal tourist crowd, we had it all to ourselves on that quiet night. More Gladiator quotes were said, and for the first time since arriving, it felt completely normal to be with the guys again. As we walked back to the hostel, my thoughts were strictly focused on my bed, which seemed to be whispering to me softly to come lie down as we made the long trek back to the hostel. For the first time since the morning, I felt truly exhausted, and was out within seconds after saying goodnight to the boys.

The next morning, we woke up fairly early with the intention of getting in line for the Vatican before it got too late. As we expected, we ended up waiting for about an hour and a half in line after a breakfast of bread and fruit from the local grocery store. I remembered some of the things inside from my trip there many years earlier, such as the Sistine Chapel, which was just how I remembered it to be, but even more impressive. Michelangelo’s The Final Judgment is an absolutely incredible work, and I wished that the four of us could have had the room to ourselves with some really comfortable chairs to just stare at it the rest of the day. I really do think you'd need a few hours to really appreciate it and see it all. We saw hundreds of Gothic and Renaissance paintings, and it felt good to know that I could understand them a little bit better after my Spanish art history class, which explained some of the Italian influences.
After a few very fulfilling hours, we headed for St. Peter's Basilica just outside and were soon inside another building I remembered very well from 8th grade. This was only after another delicious pizza lunch nearby. Outside, large statues of St. Paul and St. Peter seemed to watching somewhat accusingly over the passersby, at the same time conveying a sense of divine power and justice. The size of the basilica, once inside, was almost overwhelming, with giant marble pillars, gigantic statues of former Popes, and the Papal alter rising high into the air. The basilica was also adorned by the stunningly beautiful "La Piedad" by Michelangelo that he created when he was just twenty five years old. It's perhaps most interesting because it marks a period at the end of the renaissance, just before his influential transformation to the development of mannerist art for which he is so famous.

Returning to the hostel after another long walk and metro ride, we all decided to take a little rest before planning our next move for that evening. We all had a chance for a little nap and a shower after being on our feet since early that morning, and we found new life as we headed to the grocery store to buy some more food since all would be closed the next day. On our way home, we found a small pizza-by-the-slice place where we happily decided to continue our streak of pizza meals. Having made plans to go out with the Slovenian girls earlier that evening, we opened a bottle of red for a celebratory toast and headed upstairs to see what they were up to. We spend a number of hours talking and getting to know Petra, Tadeja, and Alitza, who studied together in Slovenia, and although they were slightly more spread out through Europe these days, still traveled together frequently. They also spoke English quite well, which made it easy to have a good time. As it got later, we decided to head out to a club they had heard about, and after bartering with the understandably grumpy cab driver for a pretty cheap fare, were on our way to an unknown part of the city. To our utter disappointment, upon talking to the only two people at the club, we learned that it was not only closed, but that everything was closed that night throughout the city. It just didn't seem possible. It was Saturday night in a big European city. Nothing should have been closed. The reason? It was the weekend before New Years. Not an excuse in my book. Sorry, Rome. We tried our luck at one more place the girls had heard about, and sure enough, no one was there. Disappointed by our luck, we hailed two more cabs and again negotiated an acceptable price to return back to the metro stop near our hostel.

The driver for the girls went flying ahead at full speed and we quickly asked ours to catch up. He stepped on the gas, and we were immediately flying through Rome, over the cobblestone streets, at a positively ridiculous speed. All of a sudden, our driver took a hard left, and before we could object, we were separated from the car ahead of us. He assured us that it was a faster way, despite our rage, and sure enough, within minutes we arrived at the metro stop. The only problem was that Termini is a huge train station, and after a few minutes of waiting we accepted that we had lost the girls. Severely bummed at our unsuccessful search for nightlife and the loss of our new friends, we made the short walk back to the hostel, cursing fate with every step. Dave and I decided to drop our coats in our room before heading upstairs to meet the boys, and to our surprise, the Slovenian ladies were waiting for us with our boys at the elevator door when we returned. We exchanged stories about our crazy cab drivers as we again left the hotel in search of a speckle of nightlife, as hopeless as it may have been. Determined beyond belief, the girls even tried a few hotels, whose lobbies were closed, and in one last attempt, a lonely receptionist amazingly let us in for a drink in their comfortable chairs. We passed several hours there talking and laughing about how this was the best Rome had to offer on our first night, but in the end, it was actually a lot more fun than we could have ever predicted. After making plans to explore the city with them the next day, Dave and I went back to the muffled snores of our roommates in the hostel, laughing about the idea that we had seen the Vatican, St. Peter's basilica, had a few delicious pizzas, and went gallivanting through Rome with three gorgeous girls from eastern Europe all in one day. That, in the words of the great Ali G, is unquestionably "safe".

The next day was spent visiting the Spanish steps and Trevi fountain with the girls and the rich Italian sunshine, along with a few smaller churches we found to pop up every few blocks. As the girls wanted to spend a few hours shopping, we took the more stereotypical manly rout, marching onward to the Colosseum, hoping to actually make it inside this time before the sun went down. I also remembered the Colosseum well from our family trip, but this time it was complete with Chris's hilarious rendition of the famous Gladiator quote, "My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next." As the sun lowered in the sky, its reddish light reflected beautifully off the ancient stone. We took another long walk around the city, and grabbed some pizza from our favorite local joint, successfully eating pizza for every meal other than a few breakfasts in Rome. We had coffee with the girls in the morning, said our goodbyes, grabbed one more slice for the road, and marched off to Termini station together to catch the metro and bus back to the Roman suburb. Having successfully conquered Rome, we were anxious for the next stage of our epic European journey. An eventful New Years Eve in Paris awaited our arrival...

Volar por Berlin

While our alarm was set for 6:00, it turned out to be unnecessary when our drunken roommates obnoxiously burst through the door around 5:30. Bleary eyed, Dave and I arose to finish packing and eat up the rest of our bread and nutella from the day before. A cold, dark trek to the station later, we waited to board our train to Berlin. There was hardly anyone on the train, being so early in the morning, and we pulled out of the station just as dawn was breaking on the overcast city yet again. The journey through the countryside was beautiful as we followed a river through a mixture of flat plains, rolling hills, and little towns speckled along the way. We passed through the same type of hazy air we encountered during our ride through Switzerland, and it once again added a sort of mysterious element to our travels. People boarded and exited the train every hour or so in the small towns where we stopped, but overall, the train filled to maximum capacity as we drew closer to Berlin.
Reaching Berlin about 1:30, we were greeted by Dave's German friend, Felix, from the university in Freiburg who happened to be home in Berlin for the holidays and with whom we would be "staying" until our departure to Rome the next morning. He turned out to be a really cool guy, and after catching a few buses, we were walking to his mothers apartment in east Berlin near the old Berlin Wall. We were immediately greeted by a friendly smile and a hug from his mother who reminded me in every way of Ms. Weasley. After dropping our things in his room, we were encouraged into the kitchen, where she had already prepared a delicious-smelling and very German lunch for our growling stomachs. Numerous helpings of a dark brown cabbage dish and a very unique unsweetened pumpkin pie, followed by great coffee and cookies gave us energy for the lightning-quick tour of Berlin we were about to have.
We began, as it was already starting to get dark, at the Berlin Wall museum near his house. We passed by the parliament building and various others owned by the government, all beautifully designed. From there we saw numerous embassies from all over the world, included that of the USA, which, in true American fashion, was completely inaccessible and heavily defended by high walls, gates, and military police. A stark contrast with that of the UK just a few blocks away, which was guarded by two unarmed men at the doorway to the street. We saw their highly controversial Holocaust museum, which is a sea of large stones that appear fairly uniform from the outside, but as you wind your way through them, they grow to gigantic sizes all around you and you begin feel consumed by their presence. For such a simple design, it had an incredible ability to demonstrate the overwhelming and consuming memory of the Holocaust. Passing through the center of downtown, through it's modern buildings, streetcar tracks, high end shops and bars, we came across a building covered in graffiti and looking very out of place. Inside, artists had set up shop, and all 5 stories were full of brilliant work by the artists who smoked any number of things as they sat looking relaxed and uninterested.
Deciding we needed a little rest, Dave, Felix, and I returned back to the apartment and enjoyed a few Berlin brews as we sat in Felix's cozy living room. Later on that night, we made a stop at the local kebab shop for a tasty dinner and continued on our way to visit some of Felix's friends at a jazz club where we caught the tail end of a set by a great band. We accompanied a few of them to another bar a few hours later and found ourselves arriving home about 3:30, a bit tired and knowing we had exactly one hour to sleep before getting up to catch the metro to the airport. We packed a sandwich and some fruit for a mid-morning snack on the plane and set off to tiredly make the 45 minute trip to the airport on the deserted metro. It was hard to believe we would be in Rome in just a few short hours after the whirlwind that had been our visit to Berlin. I couldn't wait to see the boys.

La Noche Buena y la Navidad en Praga

We arrived in Prague early that afternoon not exactly sure what to expect. It was Christmas Eve, but neither of us could remember a year in which it felt less Christmassy. We exited the airport under gray, gloomy skies, and caught the city bus that would take us into town. After a transfer to the metro, we emerged into the city center and were pleasantly surprised by the beautiful buildings and Christmas market that surrounded us. We oriented ourselves and headed off to the hostel a short ways away. We entered the tiny reception room, checked in, headed upstairs to drop off our backpacks and get settled in the very nice 12 bed room. We had a few hours until we were to meet up with my friends Julie and Melissa, and Julie's roommate, Margie, so we decided to take a little walk around the town center and stop for a delicious-smelling sausage at one of the stands. As darkness fell on the city, the Christmas lights came on, and the city was truly magical as I had been told it would be around Christmas time. All of the streets were decorated and families were out enjoying the markets together. Around 6:00, we wound our way over to the girls' hostel after cracking open a famous Czech pilsner and let ourselves in to their equally nice hostel. Within moments I was met by the easily recognizable long blond hair of Julie and we spent a bit of time catching up on everyone's adventures up until that point.
With that, we headed out into the city toward the Old Town Square, which was surrounded by beautiful churches, and which held a Christmas market to rival that of Freiburg. Gluwein, sausages, crepes, old Prague ham, candied nuts, and everything else you could image was being sold, and it was full of people in the true spirit of Christmas. After a cup of gluwein to ward off the frigid air and much time spent absorbing the festivities, we decided to look for a place to have Christmas Eve dinner. Without a reservation, this turned out to be quite the task, as we were turned away from every restaurant we could find. After hours of walking around, we finally found a place where we could get a table. And it couldn't have been better luck, with a very comfortable, homey atmosphere. We all ordered the Christmas Eve, traditional Czech special of pork and dumplings, along with the most delicious beer I have ever tasted. Some type of Czech ale named Kazel, it was sweet, dark, and made the taste buds do cartwheels. Even being thousands of miles from home on Christmas Eve, I couldn't have come up with a better way to get into the spirit of the season.
As midnight approached after hours of feasting and conversation, we headed back to one of the cathedrals near the Old Town Square to attend mass. A hauntingly beautiful, clearly baroque interior surrounded the mass of people that had already entered. As there was nowhere to sit, we stood near one of the giant columns supporting the roof and waited as the air grew even more frigid and the organ started to play. It was a beautiful service, although I clearly couldn't understand a word, and it made for quite a change from my grandmother's local Presbyterian church that I had attended every year since I was a baby and of which I had grown so fond. Tired, cold, but happily satisfied by my first Christmas Eve outside of Cocoa Beach, Florida, we parted ways with the girls and headed back to the hostel where we quickly fell asleep in our warm beds.
We slept in on Christmas morning for the first time in a few days and slowly set off to take another walk before meeting the girls in the afternoon. Everything was closed, minus a small, hidden store that we found along the way. I'm finding it to be a common theme during my time in Europe that life would be so much less comfortable without Chinese immigrants. Just as in Spain, they are the only people to keep their shops open at night and on holidays when you are desperate for something to eat. Bless their souls. With plastic bags full of fruit, bread, cheese, and Nutella, we set off toward the edge of town and climbed a steep hill up to the city's highest point where we ate our breakfast overlooking the gloomy-looking city that made us feel like we were unquestionably somewhere in eastern Europe. We met up with the girls and headed to the other edge of town, over the Charles Bridge and the Vltava River. Here we took a walk through the old fortress walls, but arrived too late to enter the large cathedrals, which had just closed for the day. Dave and I headed back to the hostel to rest a bit after some late lunch in the Old Town Square market, and got ready for the Christmas concert we were to attend that night at the concert hall nearby. The warm air and comfortable seats in the balcony perfectly complimented the sweet orchestra music that resonated from below for the next hour, and Dave was excited by the fact he had played many of the pieces during his time in the high school orchestra. After dinner in the Christmas market and a few beers later, we headed back to the hostel to await another chilly Prague day.
For our last day, Dave and I still had a lot to see, and returned across the river to look inside the gothic and baroque cathedrals and check out the riverfront. We picked up the girls and headed to the old Jewish quarter, stopped in for some much needed hot coffee, and again found ourselves in the Christmas market for dinner that night of more sausages and crepes, of which we simply couldn't have enough. Being our last night in Prague, we decided to head back to our favorite little restaurant for a few more Kazel beers before saying goodbye to the city in the morning. There we made friendly with some of the locals during our very very extended period of time comfortably enjoying the ambiance inside, and before we knew it, Dave and I were on our way back to catch a few hours of sleep before catching our early train to Berlin in the morning. While it didn't quite measure up to our short stay in Leysin, Prague was the perfect place to spend Christmas, and in the absence of my family, it was nice to be surrounded by Dave, one of my best friends of the last few years, Julie, one of my closest friends here in Madrid, and Melissa and Margie who are always great for some comic relief. We had spent just the right amount of time there, enough to see pretty much everything at a tranquil pace and really enjoy the Christmas season. Next stop, 12 hours in Berlin!

El sitio más bonito del mundo

Check out the photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/mpknutson

So, the bags were packed and the alarm was set for a six o’clock wake-up call. Morning came quickly, and although the thought of a few more hours of sleep in Dave's warm room would have been welcome, the continuation of the trip was the only thing on my mind. I just couldn't believe that I was going to the Swiss Alps. Dave and I marched our way through the quiet Freiburg streets on another frigid morning, and we patiently awaited the train as the coming dawn was making its presence known. The train was a German delight. New and very comfortable, and I remembered again why I loved traveling by train more than any other. Before we knew it, we were headed south as the sun rose on the horizon to the east. Our first stop was Bern, about a two hour ride from Freiburg, which was just enough time to drift off into a blissful half-sleep. Dave and I used the five hours we had, until we decided to catch the next train south, to explore the city. It was a foggy day, and it made for beautiful walks along the city's bridges, and through its wide streets. Bern was full of statues, beautiful parks and buildings, and even a friendly cat that followed us for about a half an hour. We saw Einstein's home, where he did much of his famous work, ate bread from the market, and listened in on the Swiss German being spoken, which Dave tried his best to understand. Again, the chilly air felt refreshing, and it was fun just to explore the town together, our packs feeling a little bit heavier with the hours that passed.
While Bern was a treat, we both knew that it was just a little Swiss teaser before we made it to our real destination in Leysin. On our way to the small mountain village, we made a few transfers, and went through some of the most beautiful countryside I have seen. The fog and the descending sun created an almost surreal atmosphere and it felt almost like we were chugging along through a dream or a fairytale. The Alps appeared in the distance, and continued to grow by the second. Before we knew it, we were moving along the edge of Lake Geneva, with the treacherous peaks reaching up as far as we could see on the other side of the cabin. Just as night approached, we made our last transfer, to a small, old cog train, basically a trolley of sorts, which would take us up into the mountains. Our faces pressed up against the windows, our eyes strained to see the peaks and ridges that were growing larger and larger as the train seemed to struggle and groan up the winding mountain slope. A half an hour later, we reached our stop, stepped into the snow and ice and looked around for Prue, whose face we had never seen before.
Within a few seconds, there was a smile coming our way from a very friendly looking woman, and we finally met Dave's recently inherited, extended family member through a marriage. A short car ride later, we arrived at a beautiful home in the small village of Leysin and were met by Tom, Sophie, and Hannah. After settling our things in the attic, we emerged into their gorgeous living room, classical music playing softly from the speakers, and the faint outlines of enormous mountains illuminated by the moonlight visible through their large glass windows. To my right, I saw a raclette oven sitting on the table, and immediately knew we were in for a traditional treat. A tasty Swiss German beer in hand, Dave and I got to know the family and were both blown away by how cool Sophie and Hannah were. Basically, the family itself is quite a story to begin with as Tom, from Minnesota, was traveling penniless through Europe for a while in his mid twenties, met Prue, from New Zealand, in Leysin, and then he just never went back... The raclette dinner was a delicious end to a very long day, and after a few hours of great conversation, Dave and I headed up to bed in the attic.
Again, the alarm rang just a bit too early the next morning, but my excitement to see the view outside quickly had me bolting downstairs, where again, I was met with classical music, and also the smell of coffee in the air. The view was simply stunning, and thinking I was alone in the room, Tom greeted me with a laugh at my awestruck expression and fixed stare into the distance. A breakfast of fresh bread and jam with a great cup of coffee filled my growling stomach, and Dave and I headed out to see the town using Tom's hand-drawn map. When I say "town", I mean that in every sense of the word, but we still managed to spend hours walking around admiring the view and taking way too many pictures. I also realized how much I actually missed seeing snow...
Brunch was nearly on the table when we got home about 11, the rest of the family having woken up fairly late that morning. Then we were off to the slopes for rest of the day, supplied with all the equipment we needed. Now, at this point I'd like to say that I had skied three times in my life, and all in December of 7th grade. That makes about seven years. And my only experiences were at Afton Alps and some other group of hills in Minnesota. After mustering the few words of French I knew, with a bit of Spanish mixed in just to make myself look stupid, we had our lift tickets and hopped into the gondola that would take us to the top of the mountain, an incredibly long journey. The whole concept of taking a long ride up the mountain, just to arrive at a place where you can catch a lift to take you to the top of a slope simply doesn't exist in Minnesota. The view was incredible from the top, by far the most beautiful place I had ever been in my life. The clouds actually below us, it felt like we were on top of the world, and the size of the mountains just seemed to grow at the higher altitude.
Now, I assumed there would be some sort of moderately-sloped option from the staring point that I could take. I was very very wrong. The only option looked like it was straight down from my very nervous point of view. Sure enough, I stood at the top, a sickening feeling in my stomach, and looked downward for a number of minutes trying to figure out how on earth I was going to avoid seriously hurting myself after the very poor decision I was about to make. To give me some motivation, Dave started downward very carefully on his snowboard, which was turned completely to the side. Trying to remember the old novice snowplow technique, I said a little prayer and pushed off down the hill. Sure enough, the snow plow method failed miserably as it is completely ineffective on that type of slope, and I was soon trying desperately to carve side to side as widely as possible to burn off some speed. I went flying by Dave, and approached what looked like a possible edge of a cliff at breakneck speed. Not knowing what was over the drop, I took a very hard voluntary fall to avoid any serious injuries and slowly ground to a relative halt on the slippery slope.
At the bottom, we were greeted with the sight of a nice slope that would be perfect for a little much needed practice. After getting comfortable during a few runs and not feeling completely out of my element anymore, we decided to explore some other areas. Again, we encountered more ridiculous slopes, much steeper than the first, but my little bit of practice paid dividends. There were a few more falls and life-fearing moments, but all in all, I think we both did pretty well. The shear size of the runs is what amazed me the most. We took one route through some steep drops and around a small path through the trees that took us ages to finish. The views of the surrounding mountains just kept getting better, and so you have an idea of their size, just the ski slope alone, top to bottom, we were only able to complete two times in about three hours. And that is just a small piece of the actual mountain. Tired, but smiles stuck on our faces, we walked home along the icy road as the sunset reflected off the Alps that surrounded us.
A nice bath, various cups of tea, and some time with Sophie and Hannah filled up the majority of our evening, and around dinner time, more of their family members arrived from Minnesota (They just bought a house on Laurel Ave., about 3 blocks away from mine). Another great dinner followed, with wine, soup, bread, salad, and Hannah's tiramisu for dessert. It was terribly sad to know that it was our last night there. As we sat on the couch, I knew that Dave and I were thinking the exact same thing; that we would have loved to have spent Christmas there. After a goodnight and goodbye to the girls, we set our alarms for 5:30 and quickly fell asleep after a long, tiring, and completely perfect day in Switzerland.
Tom drove us the short journey to the cog station in the morning and used his beautifully fluent French to assure that we purchased the right tickets all the way to Geneva. From there we would catch our Easyjet flight to Prague to spend Christmas Eve that night. But I just didn't want to leave. Even with a week and a half of European travel ahead, Leysin was perfection, and I saw myself spending the rest of my days there with nothing more than the mountains, good coffee, books, and friends.

El viaje de mi vida

Check out the photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/mpknutson

So, kind of a lot has happened since I last wrote in this blog. Way too much to sit down an write about, let alone to make you read all at once. I would never want to put you through such agonizing pain... so I'll break it up in segments. Anyways, December flew by more quickly than all of the time I have spent here. The main highlight, thinking back, was the "Christmas" dinner I had with my flatmates on the 13th, before Maren set of for a month in India, Alfonso left for Budapest and for home in the Basque country, Dominik to Sweden and then home to Germany, and Emma's family arrived for a whirlwind tour through Spain with Christmas and New Years in Madrid. Dominik was home cooking the whole day as the rest of us were busy with class and work, and during the evening I helped Emma decorate with home-made wreaths (made with illegally attained pine tree branches), candles, and Christmas music. It was the most festive our decrepit kitchen could possibly look, and it looked incredibly nice, I think. A delicious dinner of roast chicken, a very tasty German soup, roasted vegetables, and baked apples for dessert was followed by presents from our Secret Santa, which was quite a treat. Dominik, having taught me his masterful coffee making skills, gave me the perfect coffee mug and a personalized jar to store the raw ingredient. I ended up drawing his name as well, and found him a very interesting looking novel in Spanish about pirates in the New World, and a bottle of 43 Spanish liquor, which is absolutely fabulous, and a recent discovery of mine. All in all, it was a chance for us all to reflect on the time we had spent together over the previous months, and it was just another example of how we had really come to be a family in such a short amount of time. It was by far one of the best nights I have spent in Madrid.

After such a relaxing night around the kitchen table, it was back to the busy Madrid life for the next week. Before I knew it, I was off on the trip of a lifetime with my great friends from Madison, Dave, Chris, and Kyle. As always, I was terribly unprepared to leave, with so much to get done beforehand, and in utter denial that I was actually undertaking the trip I had in store for myself. After frantically packing and cleaning my room on the 19th, I set off for the airport with hiking boots on my feet, travel wallet full of boarding passes and hostel directions for the next two weeks, and my backpack stuffed to the brim with the essentials. An adventure through Freiburg, Germany, Bern and Leysin, Switzerland, Prague, Berlin, Rome, and Paris was what lay ahead, much of which I would be undertaking just with Dave.

The easyjet flight to Germany was very smooth, and I passed the time changing my mind between resting my eyes and reading the Historia de la Edad Media book I had brought along. Mostly, I just thought about how funny it was that I was on my way to see Dave in the south of Germany, where he had grown just as comfortable as I had in Madrid. There were also a few funny moments such as when the girl sitting across from the empty seat next to me asked me in French how long I thought the flight was going to take, saw that I had no idea what she was saying, tried unsuccessfully to ask me in English, and then found our common language in Spanish. After landing, I had about an hour to kill before I could catch bus for an hour into Freiburg, so I spent my time doing some quality people watching, which I found to be incredibly enjoyable. There is something about German culture that I have really been drawn to the last few years. While sure, things there might seem very orderly and rule-bound, I also think they have the most incredible family dynamics, at least from the little I've seen. For a solid hour I sat and watched smiling families reuniting, the fathers always a kiss and some sort of sweets for their waiting children. As I saw my bus pull up to the curb outside, I exited into the chilly German air, quite happy to be bundled up for my journey north. Upon boarding the bus, I saw the same blond German girl from the plane, and after an exchange of laughs and second greetings, sat down next to her so we could actually talk, as we had both been dozing on and off the whole flight. We talked about Madrid, where she had been living for over a year, about Germany, the great city of Freiburg, the States, etc, and before I knew it, we were at the Freiburg bus station, and after a quick goodbye, I set off to find Dave, whom I knew had to be lurking somewhere in the shadows. Sure enough, I was shocked to see his face so soon, and before I knew it we were on our way to his apartment-style dorm through the frigid German night.

More than anything, I was immediately struck by how quaint the city was, so quiet compared to the bustling streets of Madrid. After meeting a few of his roommates upon entering the apartment, I dropped my things in his very cozy room, and we spend the next few hours just catching up as it had been way to long since we'd had a proper face to face conversation together. I met Julie, a friend of his from Madison, who stopped in to say hello, and Dave introduced me to my first German beer, a type of wheat beer called a weizen, which tasted like nectar from heaven.

The next morning we woke up late, had a breakfast of German bread, cheese, and eggs, and headed out to see the city. First we headed to the Christmas market in the middle of town, a bustling center of delicious smells, tasty food, and all sorts of Christmas things being sold. We ordered two glasses of Gluwein, hot wine filled with spices, which was a delectable treat during such a chilly morning. From there, we headed to another market which surrounded a beautiful cathedral in the center of town, where they sold the freshest vegetables, fruit, cheese and meat. We hiked to the top of the highest hill in town and had a great view of the city through the fog. After a lunch of a typical dish of which I forgot the name, but consisted of penne noodles, sauerkraut, bacon, and cheese, we took a little siesta in his room, and I met his friend, Eric, who came over to accompany Dave and I to their German class that evening. For the next two hours, I sat happily though their last day of discussion of which I didn't understand a word, despite my attempts, and munched on typical German cookies which I hadn't tasted in a while. I met a friend of a friend here in Madrid, as we were all from Madison, which was also a funny coincidence.

After a walk through the Christmas market that night, which was absolutely beautiful under all the lights, and an amazing wurst for dinner, we met up with Eric to go to the University bar, which was built in an old bomb shelter. We later headed to another bar in a different part of town where we ran into some of their other friends. Of course, I had to try a few of the tasty German brews, all of which continued to rise to the title of my favorite beer ever. The next day was spent seeing more of the town and the university, drinking tea in Dave's cozy apartment, and mostly just relaxing and enjoying each other's company as we knew we had quite the journey ahead of us. Frieburg seems like the perfect city to live in; just the right size, young people everywhere, and bikers and streetcars making the city a prime example of European sustainability. Of course, we worked in a few more trips to the Christmas market for more wurst, and we made a tasty dinner of chicken and green beens for a few episodes of Entourage we watched in memory of the other Madison boys with whom we would meet a week later. We both packed up our things, safely stored the train tickets we had bought earlier that day, and fell asleep as our 6:00 alarm time was drawing near...

La vida esta volando...

My, my, how time is flying by. It is simply impossible to believe that December is already here. I've lived in Madrid for over three months now and life here now feels almost completely normal. I came to this realization this week after Michael Ducker, a long time friend from Saint Paul, made a quick visit for a little over a day. Being my first visitor from the States, his stay here allowed me to see how far I have come and how much I have changed in such a short time. I felt so proud to show someone my new life here, and to share a little bit of my experience with someone with whom I have spent so much of my life. It felt strangely normal to have him here as well, maybe a sign of how I'm getting used to this fast-paced life of travel and short visits to keep in touch with friends that is becoming more common and more necessary at this point in my life. I gave Michael the whirlwind tour of Madrid, since he was here for such a short time. A true Spanish tapas experience at El Tigre after he arrived, throwing him into a crowded bar of young Spaniards, visits to the royal palace, Retiro park, Plaza del Sol, etc, and some normal time at the apartment to be entertained by my fantastic roommates. I had been so busy before he arrived that I hadn't much time to even think about what we would do, but I think he really enjoyed his stay, and I had a great time catching up with him on life.
His stay also really made me realize again how comfortable I have become here. After telling me he would have never have had the courage to go into the crazy El Tigre if I hadn't been there to take him, it made me feel really good that it never even crossed my mind as being intimidating. I also realized while he was here, despite my continuous self-disappointment about my progress with Spanish, that I have changed by leaps and bounds, and that I am much more capable than I had been previously thinking. Clearly, I have a long way to go, but I have made the type of progress that I was always looking for both in the language and my growth as a person. Every day I spend here in Madrid makes my worries about my future less pressing and while I'm further than ever from knowing what I want to pursue in my life, the issue seems so much less important. My confidence and self-trust have grown tremendously during these three months, and I've never been more sure of myself. Nothing seems too difficult or too out of the ordinary these days. As cliche as I'm sure this all sounds, reflecting after three months has shown me that it is all very true. I miss home. I miss my family and friends. I miss winter in the Midwest, blankets and kisses shared next to the fireplace, late nights in College Library, and a beer and a game with my boys. However, I've been lucky enough here to find myself in a situation that eases this type of home sickness, and I'm ever so thankful for it.

Thanksgiving came a day early here, as my Madrid family at the apartment came together to cook a fabulous meal. Emma made the stuffing and roasted potatoes, Maren and her boyfriend visiting from the States some delicious chicken curry, and I added an apple crisp and champagne. Alfonso brought some deliciously sweet white wine from near his home in the Basque country to top it all off. We stuffed ourselves in true Thanksgiving fashion, content after showing our fellow Europeans a semi-proper Thanksgiving dinner, and fell into a sleepy daze fueled by too much food, generous glasses of wine and champagne, and busy days beforehand. The next night our program took us out to dinner, which also was very nice, but didn't compare in terms of reflecting the family atmosphere of my second favorite holiday. Plus, we were still left without turkey... Blasphemy, I tell you.

I have started my English teaching in earnest now. Five classes a week between all of them, and it's definitely taking up a good chunk of my time. With midterms last week as well, sleep and free time were at an all time low. I think my exams went well, although I won't say too much until I actually get them back... One of my English classes, which I teach to a 7, 6, and 4 year twice a week is definitely going to get to me after a while. The kids just aren't in the mood for learning too much at a late hour and after a long long day at school. So far I've been able to make it fun enough, but I feel like it's going to get more difficult to keep up their enthusiasm... One of my other classes is with a 17 year old, fluent enough where I basically just talk with him about whatever comes to mind, bring in an interesting article or something to read, and help him when he has trouble. He's a fun kid, who likes to do most of the talking and share his opinions on things. I can tell that teaching will probably start to wear on me at some point, but I think it's still manageable. I also have a new intercambio with whom I'm meeting tomorrow, a 22 year old student, so, as always, I'm really looking forward to that. It's been nice to have a few people to meet with every week just to talk and work on improving my Spanish at the same time. Ivan and Elena have become close friends, and we tend to have lunch and catch a movie or something at least once a week. Ivan invited me to his house last weekend, my first time in a Spanish home.

This weekend I went to Salamanca with Alfonso, Dominik, Emma, and Annie, a friend from our program. It was a short trip, as we arrived around 3pm Saturday and left about 4:30 on Sunday, but it's purpose was more to have fun and relax than to sightsee. We never had the intention of spending our time hurrying to see everything. Instead, we took a different route, having some really good meals and stops for coffee in the almost winter-like weather. We spent the entire night on Saturday hopping tapas bars, passed frequently through the beautiful Plaza Mayor, checked out the University, and just enjoyed the beauty of a truly remarkable city, my favorite in Spain so far next to Madrid. I know I'll be back in the spring to visit Lizzy, who will be studying there, so I'll have plenty of time to tour all the sites at a later date. The drive to and from Salamanca in Dominik's car was stunningly beautiful, as we passed through a gorgeous mountain range. I'll get pictures up from the trip sometime this week. Alfonso is for sure leaving at the end of January to work abroad, Maren is moving to India in February to help start a business for a new lantern for developing countries which she helped to invent. It replaces the need for kerosene lanterns, creating cheaper, healthier, more environmentally friendly lives. She was just at Oxford for a grant competition, which they almost won. Dominik will be likely moving to Peru this coming summer to do some urban development research, if he can get a scholarship, but will be leaving Madrid in March, along with Moritz, who basically doesn't exist anymore. Always couped up in his room in a grumpy mood, working on architecture projects and refusing to speak a lick of Spanish. We've found it best to just forget about him in the midst of our happy family here after several attempts to include him. So, come March, we will have a whole different group of people here, apart from Emma, Arun, and me. A sad thought, considering how wonderful it has been so far.

Every day I get more excited for Christmas break, as my plans have finally been finalized. It will be strange not being with the family in Florida this year, but I'm at least lucky enough to spend it with some of my best friends. I'll be leaving to visit Dave the 19th in Freiburg, Germany, where he is studying this year. I'll spend a few days there with him, and the two of us will catch a train to visit Bern, Switzerland, on our way to visiting some of his family friends who live in the Alps. Like literally in the mountains. We'll spend two nights and a surely fantastic day there, and catch a morning train on the 24th to Geneva, from which we will fly to Prague to spend Christmas. One of my best friends in Madrid, Julie from Indiana, will also be in Prague, so we'll likely meet up with her and her friends to celebrate the year's most special holiday, my first away from home. On the 27th Dave and I will take a train to Berlin, either overnight or very early in the morning, and spend the day and night in the city before taking an early morning flight to Rome the next morning to meet up with Kyle and Chris, who will be coming from Madrid- Kyle all the way from the states, and Chris, who will be in Madrid with his brother and Spanish sister-in-law for the holidays. The four of us will stay in Rome until the 31st, and take a flight to Paris, arriving just in time to celebrate the new year, (maybe at the Eiffel Tower?). We'll stay there together until the 4th, when we'll all return to our respective countries... Should be the trip of a lifetime, and I'm getting more excited to see my boys every day. It's been way too long. Anyways, it's time for bed. Another busy week ahead. Cheers.

Hace mucho tiempo que no hablamos, no?

It's been a long time since my last post, and I think it is a reflection of how my sense of time has changed in the last few weeks. No longer does my life in Madrid move along in days, but rather seemingly in weeks and even months. The first half of November has disappeared completely, and it only seems like time is moving faster. To a certain extent I like the feeling of having a routine, where daily life starts to feel normal, but I have also come to realize that that has kept me from exploring and discovering new things in this big, beautiful, city. I have gotten too comfortable with the walk or bus ride between my flat and the university, and my little grocery store just a block away. This led me to rededicate myself, in a sense, to learning about Madrid, because I really don't know it as well as I should after living here for so long. The other night, I decided to go for a run, but instead of doing laps around the familiar Egyptian pyramids in Parque del Oeste, I decided to hit the pavement, and dodge the foot traffic on Madrid's streets. I ran down to the Royal Palace, the first time I had seen it in the dark, and it was a truly awe-inspiring sight, lit up in a very royal, but somehow eerie way. From there I ran to the Puerta de Toledo, previously uncharted territory on foot, and proceeded to cut though a number of very small streets on my way back to what I thought was north. Sure enough, I ended up losing myself, but not really caring, as I pretty much did a big lap around the city. After a few stops to look at some maps, and using my mental image of the metro system, I arrived back home about and hour and a half later, tired after a really really long run, but energized by how much I had learned about Madrid by night.
On a more exciting note, I went to Norway last weekend with two friends from my program. Reidar, from the University of Minnesota-Duluth, and Jen, from Purdue University. I had wanted to go there my whole life, and the 25 euro round trip was more than enough incentive to return to the Old Country to visit my fellow blonds. After a really busy two days of classes and teaching Ines, a seven year old Spanish girl I teach once a week at her house, we left for the airport with our luggage directly from class, arriving at the airport in enough time, but a little more rushed than we had wanted to be. After successfully wearing 4 layers through security, so that my luggage would be okay to carry on board, we waited for our slightly delayed plane to arrive. We got into the airport outside of Oslo and took a 1.5 hour bus ride into the city. We were greeted in Oslo by a very light snowfall, nothing that could accumulate, but just enough to make us feel welcome in the most northernly place we had even been. A short walk, and a few stops for directions later, we found our way to the hostel, which turned out to be in a prime location, in the center of everything. The hostel was incredible, especially compared to the one in which I stayed in Lisbon. It felt so warm and welcoming, it was bright, and had a character all its own. When we entered our room, we were greeted with a smile and hello from Ron, a Jamaican who was staying in Oslo for about 3 weeks. After a little conversation, he showed me all the places we would need to be sure to see, and marked them on the city map the hostel had provided us. The beds were fantastic, with pillowtop mattress pads, which I will have in my house someday, without doubt, and warm, soft duvets. After a long day of class and travel, we collapsed into bed very hungry, but too content to leave the hostel at that point.

The next morning, we started the day exchanging Euros for Norwegian Kroner, and set off to the 14th century Akershus castle along Oslo harbor. We were greeted by a sunny morning, a gentle breeze, and fantastic views of the city and water from the top of the castle. Surrounded by marching palace guards, we felt quite welcomed in Norway, as there seemed to be very very few tourists in the city. We walked the castle grounds, taking in the breathtaking views, and enjoying the crisp, fall air. We then set off in search of some much needed food, as we hadn't eaten since noon the day before, and found a Kebab stand, which is all the rage in Norway at the moment. After paying an obscene amount for an obscene amount of food, (everything is really expensive in Norway, like really expensive), we took a long walk around the city, ending up at the waterfront for a second time just to see the beautiful sunset at about 3:45. On our walk, we approached the Royal Palace, stopped at city hall, and passed by the Nobel Peace Prize center. It was so odd having it get dark so early, without the gradual adjustment we usually have living in Minnesota or Wisconsin. It was surreal knowing we still had hours upon hours before even thinking about ending the day. We headed back to the hostel for a rest, and later found a grocery store so we could save some money during the trip. Even groceries were ridiculously priced, like three times what I'm used to, and eventually we settled on spaghetti, bread, and bananas... and enough for a few days.

Back at the hostel, we made our dinner in the common room/kitchen, got to know our new Italian roommate, Marco, and talked to Ron who came down to join us a while later. After a few hours, we decided to check out the Oslo nightlife, although it was only a Wednesday. We found a promising bar close to the hostel and decided to stay, feeling very welcomed by the warm air inside. We spent a few hours with Ron from Jamaica and a guy from Iceland that came out with us, whose name I could never pronounce. It was a good time, and fun knowing how random this trip had been, and how funny it was to be hanging out in a Norwegian bar with a guy from Jamaica.

The next day, we woke up to a light drizzle and decided to make it a day of museums. We took a bus to the outer edge of the city, which looked like an equal mixture of Madison, with its trees and waterfront, and Minnesota's north shore with it's crisp air and large, spaced-out houses. The Fram museum was quite interesting. It held a large ship built in the late 19th century which was crucial in the explortation of the arctic circle. The Kon-Tiki museum told the interesting tale of modern day expeditions from Morocco to the USA and from South America to Indonesia by raft to show the plausibility of historical migration theories. We also visited the Viking Ship Museum, which sets a dark and mysterious ambiance for its display of amazingly well preserved 11th-14th century ships and artifacts. The walk between the museums was quite pleasant, the air refreshing, and the openness and lack of city noise quite peaceful. On the bus ride back, we overheard someone speaking in English about the King's lands and summer home that we had unknowingly passed. We toured the Norwegian WWII resistance museum within the castle walls, which was really interesting to me having learned a bit about it previously. We spent that evening debating taking a trip to beautiful Bergen (where my ancestors are supposedly from and which is home to some of the most beautiful sights on earth in its famous fjords), but the bus, train, and plane options all cost about 175 dollars, and it was just more than we wanted to pay after thinking about all the traveling we could do elsewhere with that some amount of money. Plus, we still had so much to see in Oslo. In the end, we decided to take a trip to Moss, a town of 36,000 people thirty minutes south of Oslo by train, on the coast of the North Sea.

We went out that night with Ron, and two Mexican guys that were staying in our room that night, who were studying in Madrid for the semester. Ron knew of a great bar, to which he led us through the pouring rain (I knew that REI raincoat would come in handy sometime...) We decided to cut the night short about three in the morning so we would be somewhat alive for our 8:30 train the next morning, and got to bed in enough time to catch a few hours of sleep.

The train ride the next morning was quite beautiful as we passes through forests, farmland, and waterfront on our way to the coast. It was brutally windy and cold immediately as we stepped off the train, and I was quite glad to have bundled up. We did a little bit of walking around town and ate our newly discovered breakfast combination of banana wrapped within a chunk of bread. Amazingly tasty... We found a stunningly beautiful lake on the edge of the town and made the long hike around it, fully embracing the great outdoors. While November perhaps isn't the best time to visit Norway, we were the only tourists in Moss. In fact, we were among the very few in Oslo as well, and I liked the feeling of just being able to blend in. (Especially with our ability to pass as Norwegians). I couldn't tell you how many times people came up to me asking questions in Norsk. After our slow lap around the lake, we hiked to the other end of town, up and over a large hill, and made way though the biting wind and countyside. The smell of saltwater marked our approach to the roaring North Sea as we passed cabbage patches, barns, silos, and beautifully open land. The wind howling, we stood admiring the rough sea and the mountains behind, and questioned the intelligence of the two brave souls windsurfing far away from shore in what must have been brutal conditions.

Sustained only by our small breakfast, and a roll of Maria cookies on our trek to the sea, our thoughts turned to having a late lunch in town, and reindeer sounded heavenly. After consulting the Moss tourist center (I'm pretty sure we were the only ones who had stopped in there in quite some time), we found ourselves out of luck for affordable reindeer dining options. Having made a pact on the plane, we decided to forgo a meal in Moss in hopes of finding our desired meal in Oslo. After a few games of Euchre in the train station, we settled into our very comfortable seats and I quickly drifted into a delightful half sleep in the warm cabin. Around fifteen miles of walking in the cold had tuckered me out, but it was such a wonderfully restorative day, returning to the peace and quiet of the country side, and feeling at home in the crisp, chilly air. It made me miss home, but at the same time I almost felt as if I were there.

Upon returning to Oslo, we returned to the Hostel and quickly marched to the restaurant that Ron recommended for what would be our second meal out in Norway. We all ordered reindeer and potatoes, which reminded me so much of my grandmother's Swedish meatball recipe. Donner and Cupid were delicious, and according to Reider and Jen, Dasher, Dancer, Comet and Blitzen were equally tasty. The warmth of the restaurant, and the fullness of our bellies quickly overcame us, and we drifted into a sleepily content state that reminded me of the annual Thanksgiving aftermath. An anti-fascism protest woke us up a bit on the walk home, and the random appearance of the Romanian president, who walked out of a hotel to his heavily guarded police caravan right in front of us on the walk home, made for quite a fun surprise.
We collapsed into bed about 8:00 and couldn't help but sleep. A bed had never felt so welcoming in my life, and it was the final piece to feeling completely satisfied with the day. I could have slept the whole night, but pried myself out of bed around midnight to talk with our new Italian roommates and to play some cards with Ron, Reidar, and Jen before heading back to bed around 3.

We awoke promptly the next morning, knowing we still had so much to do before catching the bus back to the airport at 4:30. We headed out to the Edvard Munch museum, the famous Norwegian painter who left his work to the city of Oslo and on our way, navigated ourselves though Oslo's immigrant neighborhoods, past little grocery stores, bakeries, and markets. We arrived a bit before the museum opened, and relaxed in the beautiful park next to which it is located. The leaves where still in the process of falling from the trees, and it was beautifully fall-like. Munch's work is incredible, and he quickly has become my favorite painter. Such incredible use of color and every work is quite unique as opposed to the countless paintings of the Virgin Mary, Jesus, and the royal family here in Spain. The only must-see painting that was missing from the collection was the real "The Scream", which is housed in the National Gallery. On our way back to the waterfront, we make a lightning-quick entry into this building to see the finished work. It actually is much less impressive than I thought it would be, and while it is easily his most famous work, it is probably one of my least favorite. Somehow, it seems to lack the color and imagination of his other works, although clearly displaying a heavy dose of existentialist suffering.

Thinking it was much further than it actually was, we took an unnecessary tram ride to the Vigiland Sculpture park, which is home to over 212 bronze and granite sculptures by Gustav Vigiland. All are nude, and display an awe-inspiring sort of movement. The bright blue sky provided the perfect backdrop to such a beautiful place. On our way back to the hostel, carefully watching the time, we stopped into the Norwegian Resistance Museum one more time to finish what we hadn't seen when it had closed on during our previous visit. A quick walk back to the hostel, we gathered our bags from the luggage room, and quickly boiled our remaining pasta for a snack on the way home. It was a fast-paced end to a fantastic trip, and as we rode the bus back to the airport, we reflected on how random our original decision to make the trip really had been, and what a fantastic time it was. The airport was tiny, and the flight home on Ryanair, hassle-free. We got home just in time to comfortably catch the metro before it closed down for the night.

While originally I was having doubts about how badly I wanted to make the trip (so much that needed to get done back in Madrid, missing out on opportunities here, and lacking Spanish immersion for the better part of a week), I was so completely happy with it in the end. It had always been a wish of mine to make it to Norway, and while I still want to return some day to see Bergen, I'm quite happy with what I saw. The transition back to life in Madrid was seamless, having Sunday to clean my room, do my massive amount of laundry, organize my life, and talk to my family at home and my adopted one here in the piso. Getting back into the routine of classes also felt good, and my lesson with Ines on Monday went well, teaching her all sorts of fun new verbs! I have three more English teaching jobs, which will put me up to seven hours a week, plus a lot of prep time outside of that. A little more than I probably want, but I'm excited about learning more about being a teacher. While I'm quite sure it isn't in my long-term life plans, I could see myself traveling the world again someday and teaching English could be a good way to make it happen during a shorter period of time.

The rest of the week has been full of attempts to catch up on my studies, but instead I have found a few more intercambios with whom I've spent a lot of time the last few days. I also had lunch with Ivan, Elena, and Isabel on Wednesday, who are quickly becoming my closest Spanish friends here. I also saw a movie and had coffee with Ivan and Elena tonight. I went out with Alfonso, Julie, and her Russian, fluent Spanish-speaking roommate, Olga, Wednesday night for a great time and a lot of laughs, and went to the famous Palacio discoteca last night. Truly incredible inside, with impressive architecture that makes you feel like you are in a real royal palace, but with music and crazy lights everywhere. I had a great study session with Bailey from my program this afternoon, and now find myself desperately trying to finish this at 3:30 in the morning. Our WIP group leaves for Cordoba at 7:30, and I have yet to pack... oops! I'll be there for the weekend.

I'm starting to feel even better about Spain, especially after this week. Ivan and Elena seem like they will be very close friends of mine in no time, and I feel like I've really bonded with Alfonso this week, something I'd been really wanting more of recently. He's such a fun guy to be around, but for some reason I can't speak Spanish worth a damn around him. I have no idea why. Possible trip with him to his house in the Basque country next weekend. Anyways, I need to salvage a few hours of shut-eye. New pictures of Norway are up if you want to have a look. As you always must write here in Spain, if you aren't physically present to give them---- Besos!