The lights vary from street to street in Madrid for Christmas. Bright colored strips of light, thick bars of blue and red and green, big globes of lights, etc. I liked this simple street scene by the La Latina metro stop (and consequently quite close to my apartment).

Zürich/Stuttgart

Last Thursday I booked a flight to head to Switzerland and Germany for the weekend. It's probably the most last-minute trip I've ever embarked upon (and still one of the cheapest). It was also one of the most cathartic. I got to walk the festive, Christmas-decorated streets of Zurich before purchasing making my way to the train station to buy a ticket to Stuttgart (beef: I noticed since the last time I was at Zürich's train station a few months ago, they've replaced the old-school split-flap departure/arrival board with a digital one, so the soundtrack inside the station isn't quite as classic now; the Christmas decorations almost made up for it). The rest of the weekend was spent in Germany with Georg. I've been feeling cooped up in Madrid lately, so we spent most of the time outside including exploring the grounds of the Castle Solitude and the extravagant Christmas market in downtown Stuttgart. It was a treat.

One of the simplest joys is to travel in the absence of plans. Step off the plane and follow your gut, let your eyes lead you. Get a little bit lost, meet some people and share a few moments, have a cup of coffee by yourself and people watch until you find something beautiful to smile about. Then get up and start walking again.

København

My overwhelming response to my weekend in the Danish capitol can be summed up pretty briefly. It goes something like, "I like this. This is right. I want to stay." So while I contemplate which Danish name I'm going to change mine to, I'll leave you with a few words and a few photos from my first journey to Denmark.

Copenhagen is a remarkable place – one that I never expected to connect with quite so much. A few fairly minuscule yet telling details to illustrate my appreciation: Denmark is the top consumer per capita of candles (they're everywhere). Danish people are at the very least bilingual (When I asked a server at a restaurant if she spoke English, she looked at me kindly and a bit quizzically and said, "of course, everyone speaks English here"). The queen's residence has no gate in front of it because "this is a culture of trust and she wishes to be seen by the people of Denmark as a member of the community," said a local (You can literally walk up and knock on the queen's door, though I'm told the guards would not appreciate it). There is such a strong dedication in Denmark to creating a comfortable, cozy atmosphere in which to enjoy the company of others (hence, candles) that they have a specific word for this: "hygge" (which delightfully sounds somewhat like the word "hug"). There's also an area in the city called Christiania that decided to become independent from Denmark in the '70s; the small, self-declared free state (unrecognized by Denmark, though seemingly accepted) created their own legal system, the most noticeable component in this peaceful, hippy-ish area being the green light district: an area of abundant, legal weed (they ask that no photos be taken, a request I cooperated with despite my desires). I could go on, but the last reason I'll mention now for liking this place is this: the people here are genuinely, beautifully happy. It may sound cliché, but those of you who have been here know what I'm talking about, I'm guessing. There's just a vibe. And it's good.

Camila

Toledo

So many gems are located within close proximity of Madrid. Toledo is the first of many that I've ventured out of the city to see, a decision made after being told by a friend my dirt-cheap Madrid metro pass gets me to Toledo for free. I spent Halloween wandering the narrow, hilly city streets with three of my fellow English teachers.

Louis Velasco Vega, wood craftsman 

He's been working in this same workshop since he was 16.

In Louis' workshop. His tools and the smell of lacquer caught my attention from the street; he kindly welcomed us inside to look around.

A gentle reminder that the human community outweighs the ones we draw on maps.

Sevilla

Much of my free time last week was spent trying to decide where to go for the final trip on my Eurail Pass before its expiration date on the 25th of October. This process consisted mostly of looking intently at a map while not making any decisions. 

Friday, without any planning other than a hastily booked hostel reservation, I took the Metro to the railway station in Madrid and hopped on the high-speed train to Sevilla in the south of Spain. I settled into the all-too-familiar rhythmic hum of train hurling toward a place I only know as letters on a ticket. (Perhaps it was just the excitement and buzz of being back on a train, but the world outside the window seemed to hum along while spinning past.)

The following are some of the things and moments that caught my eye during my journey.

Swing

I was planning to go to a market, but I accidentally joined a swing dancing gathering at an abandoned slaughterhouse instead. Obviously. So here's some photos.

Barcelona

My intent was to spend around 36 hours in Barcelona. A stop on my way from wine country in France to my final point in Madrid. A layover; a place to catch my breath.

It wasn't until nearly a week later that I left.

My friend, Bruna (Brazilian adventurer/instigator whom I met by chance in Boulder earlier this year; she has been mentioned in my blog before), has been working and living in Barcelona and I thought it would be a good opportunity to catch up and hang out for a bit before she and I both split off to our next destinations. Little did I know I'd have such a great time and meet so many wonderful people along the way. 

Sunrises, the sounds of cigarette lighters and clinking glass, the sharp smell of the sea, gravel under foot, sand in my clothes, the too-loud music at the pub crawls, the sensation of lounging on an old bean bag at the hostel (with beans that were just a bit too big), the mechanical whine of the entry gate at the Metro processing my T-1o ticket, the view overlooking all of Barcelona from Los Bunkers, the goosebump-inducing beauty of watching a dancer dance, sunsets. These are some of the things that have stuck with me since I left Barcelona last week. I'm writing from Madrid, but I can't help but think that spending a few extra days in Barcelona was one of the best decisions I made on this trip. Often it seems to be the unplanned excursions that end up being the most special and memorable.

On another note, while the wonderful city of Barcelona could be mistaken as the city of Gaudí, I didn't explore his unique, earthy contributions to the cityscape on this trip. Sagrada Familia can be seen in the first image below, but I'm pretty sure that's the closest photo I got of it. While I've seen quite a few of his buildings on a previous trip, I was more interested in seeing what inspired the famous architect on this journey. The history books say that trips to Montserrat Monastery over the course of his life had a great influence on his designs. The monastery sits perched up in the mountains about an hour outside Barcelona. It's strikingly obvious the connection between Gaudí's work and the mountains the moment you arrive at the monastery. The finger-like rock formations share a lot of similarities with the buildings at Park Güell as well as most of his other designs.

Part I: Dawn (& dance)

Part II: National Day of Catalonia. These are proud people here and hundreds of thousands of people came onto the streets to celebrate the unity of this little piece of Spain.

Part III: Montserrat. Bruno and I went out to Montserrat, about an hour out of Barcelona by bus. You can get dropped off right by the monastery and explore the buildings. We opted to take a couple-hour hike to get up to the highest point in these mountains. The summit was absolutely frigid; neither of us adequately prepared for this. Quick summit beer, photos in which we're acting much less cold than we look, and descend. Despite the cold, the views were pretty spectacular.

Rock stacks were everywhere. Bruna decided to make a contribution.

Beaune

Burgundy, at last. Despite this being my first time here, this place already has a deeply meaningful place in my life. At a very different time in my life a few years ago I tried my first glass of Burgundy – an experience which started an interest in wine and particularly the wine from these hills that surround me as I write this. I began to study the region and learn about the families that have cultivated these vines for centuries. The history of each of these families and the care that gets put into the creation of these wines – I think – comes through when tasting and experiencing them. I don't know how to describe it any less absurd than this: drinking wines from here is like consuming history. I know, ridiculous. But that's how it is to me. And with that in mind, this has been a wonderful couple of days here.

An alcove in the town's cathedral.

Probably the most expensive wine I've ever had, and definitely one of the best. One of the few Grand Crus from these hills.

Zürich

After visiting northern Italy I planned to head straight to France to spend some time in Burgundy, but when I went to book my train the morning of my departure the ticket office in Torino was complete chaos. Papers flying, people shouting, hands gesturing wildly. So I decided to just abandon the idea of making a reservation on the high speed train into France and just hop on the slow trains (free for rail pass holders, no reservation required) north into Switzerland. Last time I was in Switzerland I absolutely loved the beautiful landscapes, the walkable cities, and the uniquely Swiss architecture in the villages that dot the countryside. I wasn't planning on spending time in Switzerland on this trip solely because I'm on a tighter budget than my last European trip and Switzerland is very, very expensive. But, having never been to Zurich, I thought it was worth a trip. Although it doesn't have the mountains and the overwhelming natural beauty that many other places in Switzerland have, it's still beautiful in it's own river-centric-densely-populated-charming-Swiss-city kind of way.

Unfortunately, the one downside is that there seems to be construction pretty much everywhere you go in the old town of Zurich. Much of it isn't just construction but painstaking excavation work to preserve the city and the artifacts beneath some of the oldest squares and structures in town. While this made photographing the city difficult (wonderful potential photos were often blighted by the appearance of cranes and temporary fencing), it's certainly a testament to the city's priority of preserving their history. I can get onboard with that.

Unfortunately, this is the image that dominates my mind when it comes to what Zurich actually looks like. There's a lot of painstaking excavation work and construction going on around the city. It was difficult to shoot photos without the appearance of a crane or a crew of workers in high-visibility protective gear.

Torino

Reunited with old friend (and flatmate during a semester in London), Federico in his hometown of Torino, Italy.

Lake Konstanz

My friend Georg came and stayed with my family last year in Texas. With that in mind, I was thrilled when he suggested we go to his family home in the south of Germany for a few days when I was passing through during my journey around Europe. Here are a few images from where he grew up.

Paris

I was in Paris for a few days earlier this week. Despite it raining the entire time (blue skies came out just as I was catching my train to leave France), it was the perfect time. My one must-do was to revisit the Musée d'Orsay, to-date my favorite place to see art. An old train station packed full of impressionist work is a pretty powerful recipe. The museum hasn't lost its charm. Nor has this city.