Oh hey!!

So, this is going to be the pansiest post ever! But, rest assured much more detailed, hopefully comical, sense making alterations will be made when I get a good chunk of time. But, since I have about 10 more minutes with the internet until i catch my train to Roma (ummm, yeah, Italia!!), I will post my notes from Germany and France. I guess this will just give you a glimpse into my writing process. It basically goes something like this:

Step 1: Furiously type up "bullet" style notes of all my adventures and experiences so as to avoid giving into my ever loving short-term memory loss.

Step 2: Go through and make fragment-bullet-thoughts into sentences.

Step 3: Add in the funny details.

Step 4: Spelling and grammar check (not super thorough usually, as I'm sure you've all noticed...don't judge)

Step 5: Find internet.

Step 6: Post it!

Step 7: Mom is happy. (love you!!)

So, here are some of the "field notes" for the past week or so...

We took another night train. 7+ hours this time. Absolutely the most awesomely aweful seats of my life though they were a smart shade of orange with bright blue and yellow accent. I felt like I was sitting in an episode of “That 70’s Show: European Trainride,” including one of the guys sitting near us. Destination: Freiburg temple, #20. I’m sooooo excited!!! I may have mentioned this before, but originally this was a trip I was going to go on by my lonesome and it was going to be 95% backpacking tour of all the temple in Europe (other than Ukraine, I want to wait for Seany for that one) and I would stay with and see family where ever they were along the way. I have this “bucket list” for my life and one of the top 5 is “Serve in Every Temple in the World.” I’ve actually been actively working toward that goal for the past 2-3 years. It’s been an amazing, adventurous experience. By the end of this trip I will have served in the following temples:

California:

- Newport Beach

- Redlands

- San Diego

- Los Angeles

Utah:

- Provo

- Mount Timpanogus

- Draper

- Ochirr Mountain

- JordanRiver

- Salt Lake City

- Bountiful

- Ogden

- Logan

Idaho:

- Twin Falls

Washington:

- Colorado River

- Seattle

Florida:

- Orlando

Canada:

- Vancouver

Paraguay:

- Asuncion

Germany:

- Freiburg

- Frankfurt

England:

- London

Switzerland:

- Bern

In addition to these I have visited or attended a live ordinance at:

California:

- Oakland

Oregon:

- Portland (daddy and I actually went to do a session and they let us in thinking we were workers…we were too early for any opportunity and had to leave for Canada before we’d be able to complete any. Sad day. It’s ok, just leaves room for next time)

Nevada:

- Las Vegas

Arizona:

- Mesa

Utah:

- St. George

- Manti

Idaho:

- Rexburg

- Boise

Washington, D.C.:

- Washington, D.C.

New York:

- Manhattan

Illinois:

- Navuoo

Hawaii:

- Honolulu

Italy:

- Roma

Map from lady, taxi, temple, everyone was American, Alaska, and califorina, temple pres hooked us up, walked back barefoot,

Gottingen, can’t get ahold of Mazi, dinner—burger king, tried to walk, got totally turned aroung, opted for taxi, 7 euro was well worth not being lost all evening, mazi waiting at bus station, homa wouldn’t stop hugging and kissing me, just talked all night long.

Went to church n the morning, missed the bus so we could wait for homa, walked half the way and made it for sacrament, so little, everyone came and talked to us, there were like 8 investigators, his old scout leader is now bishop, a man taking pictures (got email but still haven’t seen those pics), some greeny budge boy and a seasoned elder—at first I thought he was german because his emnglish had a strong accent, Fulbright!!, janise’s friend met up with us and they joined us for yummy Persian dinner and headed to hitchhike, separate for three days, hungout, relaxed and just talked. Once everyone knew I was in germany family all started called and skyping…it was fun! Daddy’s bday skype. Missionary work opportunities (We need you!!!)

Next day woke up and didn’t want to help missionaries (and I totally know how that feels as a missionary—we’re so lame, head off to Dortmund to meet some more family, get there Aunt Malak and Uncle Sharock, the house, the uncles, aunt astrid and Jian, way too much fun!!! Got distracted by wonderful dinner and company, everyone wanted me to stay for a few days, ran upstairs with the cousins and figured out how to, 20 mintues to get to the train, Astin Martin!! Racecar driver to the station and make it to the platform as the doors open, Perfection! Get back hung out with Mazi and Homa, next morning taxi was Persian lady and she comped my ride “you’re my guest,” get back to Dortmund, Uncle Homaun and Jian pick me up, take me to lunch where the manager for the Dortmund soccer team is sitting next to us with his family (they’re number one, and like 5 years ago he was one of their top players), gave me the grand tour, shopping area, a couple old churches, and the brewery/museum, haha, head back, everyone comes over again, spent the afternoon and much of the evening discussing family history over tea, cookies, fruit, and chocolate. Retired in Jian’s room, apparently one of our uncles told him how it’s really good for your back to sleep on the flat hard mattresses and so he always asks if he can. As I was going to bed, aunt Malak was headed back over with fixins for who knows what to send with me for the next day. I awoke the next morning to a myriad of gifts and my bag brimming with snacks and fruit and drink, already packed for me, and breakfast on the table, two pieces of bread, buttered, one with a slice of meat, the other with cheese, and a hot cup of tea.

Take a pill with fizzy water, yuck!!! But we had a great laugh through the embarrassment. Another ride to the train station in the astin martin and uncle Homaun took me all the way to my seat, carrying my bag which they swear must be around 50 kilos…they may be right. Hey, don’t judge. I promised mom I wouldn’t do Europe ugly again.

I ended up riding in my own cabin and began typing away and after a few short stops I was joined by a slender, young French boy named Matthew. He was on his way back from a short vacation home, and now it was time to hit the books. Back to Law school studying germane and French law. Sound interesting.

Got to paris and headed to Andie’s on line 9 to Porte St. Cloud, right next to the mcdonalds. I should have just believed it and looked harder originally. Some guys walking slower and kept looking my way, I must have actually looked lost…which I wasn’t. in the words of daddy, “I knew exactly where I was.”

Got there and was anxiously greeted by Louis (4), Gabriel (6.5), and Etinen, then Andie and Alice (2). Sooooo cute! Loved them! Such big peering eyes. Stay up till 11pm chatting and into the guest bedroom. We had dinner…loved it!

Effiel tower, boat tour, freezing, crepe, hot cocoa, cute black boy “pilot”, not really must have a funny definition of pilot in French, walked next metro, tried to find market, wasn’t there, but real good baguette, off to Montemarte bascillica, street lined with vender—just like LA, street performers, very similar to what I remember the Spanish steps in Roma being like, got postcards—finally, promise I’ll send them, just don’t know from where J, off to the Arch de Triomph and Champs Elisses, the Louis ventant store wasn’t there anymore…or atleast if it was it was no longer that rad shape as it was 6 years ago, oh mcd’s, went into a place called “public drug store” apparently you have to wear designer clothes and a black p-coat to fit the dress code, guard followed us around after making Janise stop taking pictures—fanciest drug store I’ve ever been in. J then for a Parisian burger. Interesting, milkshake was like straight milk with strawberry flavoring, overall totally worth it. Saw the Eiffel tower all lit up and headed back. They were asleep and we were exhausted. Read bom and fell asleep.

Got up early to play with the kids and say our goodbyes. Made a plan (3 actually) missed the first, hop on hop off a couple times, met a lady in the station, gave her our extra ticket, sundance film festival jacket, great English with a beautiful accent, stellar outfit and glasses that I may envy for the rest of my life, got to the station and all the times I’d just seen online they couldn’t find. Found a ticket machine, navigated through the French and figure out there’d be a totally different option leaving in 15 minutes. Found it, hopped on, it was great! Now on our way to Bern, we will get there yet! So excited about the temple and staying in patron housing…we’ll see if they let us J our goals: Einstien’s house, the bear pit, and The Munster Catherdral.

sidenote: Bern Temple was amazing!!!!! We went this morning. But I promise to tell you all about it...just...later.

Ciao! Ciao!

Oh yeah, and sooo excited about taking Uncle Babak to church tomorrow :)

"Can I help you?" --Nice young lady that helped us with the phone, Hungary

Hungary is a very interesting place. It reminds me a lot of the Czech Republic, outside of historic Praha (Prague). Everywhere you go looks like a scene straight out of an old WWII movie—even the people. Everything looks like it hasn’t been repaired since the 1950s, it’s all very very dirty, gloomy, and dark, people don’t seem smile as much (though people don’t smile as much in most countries I been in the EU when compared to the US), cars, roads, buildings, signs, most things look like they’re falling apart or about to. It’s beautiful though. I know that sounds weird but little known fact, I used to be absolutely obsessed with WWII, the Holocaust, and that time period of European history, far more than our own, for years throughout elementary, jr. high, and high school. I love it! I’m sure I’ve recommended the Museum of Tolerance to a couple of you that have come or thought about coming through LA. To me, the scene around me was like an opportunity to walk through the time in history which most fascinates me. You know, people always randomly bring up that whole question about, “if there was a time period you’d want to visit what would it be?” Of course I would love to walk along the Sea of Galilee with my Savior or experience the Great Persian Empire at it’s most glorious, but WWII time period is up there too and I was actually getting to do it! Amazing. It took my breath away. I could just feel the history blowing along like wind across the walls and see it’s presence deep in the eyes and wrinkles of these wonderful people’s faces. Truly, truly amazing. I would trade Paris and London for this any day. Such a rich and dynamic history. Though I must say, the number of people able to understand our thick American accent declined significantly and we found it difficult to even use the phone. Haha. That’s awesome. And look, we really weren’t “taken” and that was definitely the leg of the trip, if there will be any, that I would have put money on for “Most likely time to be taken.” Good job us. I wasn’t worried for a second. Really really.

"wait what? This is snow? We're IN A BUILDING!!!" --Me, Munich train station

Ok let me just say, I’ve decided it’s cruel and unusual punishment for a train station to not post it's name ANYWHERE in it’s own station. I mean come on. We’ve been through quite possibly the most cortisol, endorphin, blood pumping traveling experience of our lives, we only have ONE connection left to achieve and we are home free, all to get off at a freezing cold station where no one will look at us, let alone talk to us, it’s quite literally SNOWING INSIDE THE BUILDING, and we are slapped in the face with a little panic of having gotten off too early or late and yet again deviated from our plan because of the lack of signage. Luckily, we were able to find a real nice and helpful girl who laughed with us in our comical, giggly, near panicked state, assuring us we were in fact in Munich and our train was on time and to depart in an hour and a half. Phew! We took the opportunity to walk around, scoping out all the food possibilities, selected one, and ate in a nice little area sheltered from the snow and warmed by the fragrance and heat of roasting chickens.

Our train arrived and while everyone anxiously awaited the doors open, in hopes of escaping the bitter chill of the snow, ha!, the train starts pulling away!!! We all kinda look around at each other, and using the only language we have in common, other than love I guess, express a little confusion and laugh in our mutual fear of being left out in the cold by the last train coming through the station for that night. Gratefully and to the comfort of all, it stopped after a minute, pulled back, and we were allowed on. This was a sleeper train and since we didn’t have reservations we just waited for everyone to find their seats at which point we were free to choose whichever cabin we wanted. I took a little journey through all of them and found a whole car nearly empty so Janise and I sat there, until the train was to split (that half was staying somewhere in Switzerland). We headed back up a few cars and I almost knocked a girl over as she emerged from her car in preparation to exit at the next station. Two sisters from Germany off to the Alps for a 7 day skiing trip. We stopped and talked and they offered us their cabin, which we graciously accepted, chatted a while, and they left. Our train sat in that station for quite some time. Time enough in fact that we saw them wandering around outside from platform to platform trying to find their next connection. Each time they walked by we all waved and laughed then carried on. Eventually, we saw the youngest wave at us with paper and pen in hand, running in our direction. We hopped up and, grabbing paper and pen ourselves, hurriedly exchanged email and facebook information. We’re pretty sure there was a miscommunication between the station and their train because not 5 minutes later we see them, a few others, and a conductor sprinting down the platform to our left as though they are all trying to wave down the train speeding past them. It stopped. It really did. I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what was going on. They got on and we took off in opposite directions. We made it to Gyor, Hungary and were excitedly greeted by an old friend of Janise’s from Seattle.

A series of Fortunate events

As the train began it’s journey I again caught the gaze of our beautiful friend. No...the cute old lady ;). She waved and blew me a kiss as I made my way back to my ever hallowed seat. No sooner had I gotten comfortable with my scarf neatly arranged to block out the delightful aroma of our cabin mate, when there she was again, bracing herself on the doorway with a wince of pain across her face. She’d made her way across her car to request our company to the dining car for dinner and drinks. Call it what you may, karma, the golden rule, a tender mercy, or just plan ole’ good luck. We gleefully accepted and helped her through the 5 or 6 cars to the dining car where we spent the next 3 hours talking about her amazing life while enjoying some yummy sandwiches and drinks. The wisdom of time on life, love, adventure, and the realities and splendor of the high life were the main topics.

She then invited us to sit with her in her seat area; she had 4 seats all to herself. We agreed with a smile and enjoyed the remainder of our ride in the luxury of cushioned chairs listening with great anticipation to the words of every story she mustered up to share with us. She even serenaded us—twice! There will be more to come on her story in a later post.

Sadly, the next stop brought the people that had actually reserved those seats and we cheerfully headed back to the baggage area (we chose a different one this time to avoid…well, you understand). How grateful we were that even 4 hours of our 5 hour ride was in the company of such a great woman with such wonderful accommodations.

The last hour was filled with light chatter with whoever would talk to me about Budapest or where they were from or us answering any questions they could pull together in broken English about where we’re from and where in the US they’ve been or want to go. It was, to date, the most perfect train ride we’ve had yet. Everyone was so friendly, even the smelly guy. I talked to him for a bit when I went to grab my laptop out of my bag. I invited him to sit inside but he politely declined. He actually had paid for a seat but due to some heart and lung issues he was unable to sit in his assigned seat and had determined the baggage car the next best option. Sad. I felt bad for judging him. He just looked kinda scary with how disheveled, greasy, and quite literally dirty he was, like really really. But I made him smile so we’re friends now.

We spoke with the conductor and arranged for Mrs. Totlynn Jackson, our singer friend, to receive help and a wheelchair upon her arrival to her stop and said our goodbyes as we rolled in different directions. She, in a wheelchair to a taxi and us, continuing on the train to Munich.

"Well that's very Russian of you." --Crazy Lady, England (I think)

We get up the next morning and Janise’s alarm didn’t actually set so we missed my master plan #54302...onto master plan #54303. We headed into the city for a little sightseeing and church. It was actually really cool. I don’t know how people get “lost” in Europe. Addresses are so easy to find. We decided to take some pretty little detours down a handful of neat little cobble stone alley ways before we figured out that the rod iron entrance to a beautiful courtyard, though unmarked, was in fact the destination of which we’d been searching. Tons of metaphors there but I’ll spare you…you can thank me later.

We could see the ever distinguishable “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” on the window, through which we could see a handful of people sitting in rows. A man looked through the window and, noticing my sign language for “where’s the entrance,” a huge smile spread across his face and suddenly the wall opened, revealing a doorway.

“English or French?”

Surprised I responded, “English.”

We were directed to an open room with just a handful of people spread among some 30 chairs. We sat in the second row and joined the rest in sing-hmming along to “Choose the right” without hymnals, directing our gaze up and forward toward a really nice, semi-large, plasma screen and listened as missionaries translated over an intercom. Two male. One female. Oh, translating during the mission under the pressure of getting the actual meaning of the talks correct. One male was admittedly better than the other and the female. The sister was more of a, “mmm…prayer is good…families are a blessing in our lives…we… need… to have… food storage…” and the first young man just stopped and goes, “wow, he’s talking really fast,” at which point another much more experienced picked up and seemingly translating word for word.

I miss translating during church. I hope that investigator at home SuXi is still there when I get home. That was fun! (The Sunday before I left I get a call on my cell from daddy as I’m walking out. I’ll be there in 2 minutes. Didn’t answer. Immediately the house phone rings. Daddy. Must be important. Answered. Sacrament is about to start and he was asking me to hurry up because we had a Chinese speaking investigator. I sat with her and quickly realized that she spoke nearly no English and understood even less. I got to translate word for word, and then just testified of things that I gathered she’d be interested in or needed—based off our conversations—when the talk topics turned to “ward council” and “worldwide leadership broadcast.” She didn’t even know who Jesus Christ was, so, I thought talking about single’s wards, the structure of ward council, and what bishopric members think when they look out on the congregation maybe weren’t the most inspiring and spirit welcoming topics. It was amazing!)

My thoughts for the day come from Alma 26: 35-37

“Now have we not reason to rejoice? Yea, I say unto you, there never were men [or women] that had so great reason to rejoice as we, since the world began; yea, and my joy is carried away, even unto boasting in my God; for he has all power, all wisdom, and all understanding; he comprehendeth all things, and he is a merciful Being, even unto salvation, to those who will repent and believe on his name.

Now if this is boasting, even so will I boast; for this is my life and my light, my joy and my salvation, and my redemption from everlasting wo. Yea, blessed is the name of my God, who has been mindful of this people, who are a branch of the tree of Israel, and has been lost from its body in a strange land; yea, I say, blessed be the name of my God, who has been mindful of us, wanderers in a strange land.

Now my brethren, we see that God is mindful of every people, whatsoever land they may be in; yea, he numbereth his people, and his bowels of mercy are over all the earth. Now this is my joy, and my great thanksgiving; yea, and I will give thanks unto my God forever. Amen.”

I love these scriptures and am so grateful for the scriptures in my life to help comfort, guide, and direct me and those I love and those I have yet the pleasure of meeting. I second the testimony of the Prophet Joseph when he said, “…the Book of Mormon [is] the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion, and a man [ or woman will] get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book.”

I look forward to many many more opportunities “…to gain this divine witness from the Holy Spirit [and further understand]… that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world, that Joseph Smith is his revelator and prophet in these last days, and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the Lord’s kingdom once again established on the earth, preparatory to the second coming of the Messiah.” (Book of Mormon, Introduction page)

After church we had time for one “sight” and decided to walk through the streets, as opposed to a bus or subway, so as to absorb the essence of Paris on this chilly yet beautiful Sabbath morning. We explored the Louvre—there was a man playing “Ave Maria” on the flute at the entrance and there couldn’t have been a more serene ambiance.

Have I ever expressed how the Louvre just might be one of my favorite places in the world? I remember last time I was in Paris I was only allowed 3 hrs to explore the wonders of it’s walls and splendorous beauty ever so gently and specifically placed to ornament it’s halls and grand rooms. The care and thought therein combine with spatial design provides the utmost perfection of art, artifact, and literary experiential environment. It’s another world really. Or maybe better put, the segway of all worlds coming together; all things circumscribed into one whole. The purest outward expression of the inner unity of this world, it’s people, it’s thoughts and dreams, with no limitation of time, geography, or barrier of language. For we all share the language of life and sight (either figuratively or literally). Three hours is nowhere near the time I could have spent there, but I cherished every moment of it. In my opinion, it’s the Mecca of all things beautiful and historically fascinating. I think I could take a week or more, if I had the money, to explore all its wonders. Maybe someday. Yes, for sure someday.

From there we saw the Eiffel tower and a few other things, grabbed a pastry, then hopped on the subway back to our hotel to prepare to leave. We got back to the hotel, grabbed our stuff and sat in the lounge until it was time to walk across the street for the train that this time will hopefully get us to Munich and then on to Budapest. Meanwhile, a woman came in and caused quite the ruckus. Through eavesdropping we soon learned that the maid had caught her stealing something and therefore wouldn’t let her use the restroom. She went and very rudely complained, denying all the way and then suddenly admitted to stealing, “but it’s not like I drank it or anything…you can just have it, or I can pay for it I guess,” like he was inconveniencing her by calling her out on stealing. She goes and uses the restroom and comes over to us and asks if we have 10 cents cus she’s 3 cents short so really it’ll be like we’re giving her 3 cents.

“No I’m soo sorry. We don’t have any change.” (I was being totally honest)

“What, yes you do, it’s just 3 cents, come on.”

“No actually, I’m really sorry but we’ve been only using our credit cards so we really don’t have any change.”

A look of absolute disgust smears across her face and she snaps, “Well, that’s very Russian of you,” and stomps off. As if that wasn’t hysterical enough, just as she’s turning the corner out of our sight, she pauses awkwardly, folds her left arm back and across her back, and pops that boney middle finger up and flips us off! What the!? Are you serious woman? How old are you? No wonder you’re traveling alone. For about 10 minutes after that she kept coming back our way to poke her head around the corner and send us daggers and pretty much stick her tongue out at us. Ok crazy.

We had a good laugh with the maid and the front desk guy and headed off to the station. We had already gone in and tried to reserve a spot on the sleeper for that night but were informed that that would basically be impossible. The man instructed us to arrive 20 minutes early and beg the conductor to let us on. We didn’t really know to what extent “begging” would take place so we went 30 minutes early. On the way in we stopped at an ATM. As Janise was withdrawing money I said hello to this adorable older woman standing to the side a little. She was dressed to the nines, had a couple different color hair pieces arranged in a very elegant manner fading from dark to blonde to lighter dark again, a push cart full beyond capacity with suitcases of every size, color, and shape, and a very obvious limp emanating from her left foot, and most importantly upon hearing us speak she exclaimed with mix of exasperation and cheer, “You speak English!” Fairly quickly into our budding conversation she shared her frustrations about how no one here would help her figure out where to get a wheelchair or how to arrange for someone to help her with her baggage. She’d spoken, or attempted to speak, with a number of different uniformed personnel and all to no end. Each merely displaying either complete lack of understanding or knowledge. Oh the French. I told her to stay right there and headed off on a crusade for “The Disabilities Office.” I shortly returned with success in my step and Janise and I accompanied her to her destination to assure she received the proper care. On our way we learned that she was an old time lounge singer and worldwide performer from Jamaica. She was on her way to somewhere in Germany from London. We dropped her off with a hug and dos baccos and were off to commence begging, wishing we could take the same train as her because she just seemed to have so much to offer, say, and teach.

Our begging was a success. There were two conductors to choose from. One, the French, older, tired, and grumpy looking. The second, a handsome young Germany man with a smile and daring blue eyes that I felt a perfect match for my best begging tactics. J We left Paris, finally, in the baggage car of a reportedly over booked train with a really smelly, sweaty French man decked out in camo from head to toe. It was sure to be an amazing 5 hour ride.

At least we got on.

"Good job today, we weren't Taken." -- Kim, Chicago

Side note...or start note, however you'd like to phrase it. The title quote for today is a reference to a movie that far too many people allow to freak them out of traveling and overly worry about other's travels. I don't think there is a movie in the world that has been more brought up to me in the past two years (where the bulk of my personal travel has taken place). Yes! I've seen it. Yes! I totally get the point of the movie. Yes! I watched the whole thing. Yes! I know that could happen to me. Yes! My parents are very aware that I'm backpacking around Europe and with just another GIRL nonetheless. Yes! I have their permission, though let's be real here, I'm 26 and they trust me and pretty much support anything I want to do as long as I can present a reasonable plan of action. No! I'm not scared. No! I'm not neive to the dangers of traveling...come on people it's the world we live in and it's in the USA TOO!!! Do you ever leave your house?? :) Yes! I realize this is a reality that we live in but No, it's not going to change my mind, route, countries of choice, or methods of travel. I'm pretty sure I understand the dangers, pros, cons, best case senario-->worst case senario of traveling...I spent the better part of the last three month free lance writing a responsible world traveler's guide for a pretty big international travel club and I have a bachelor's in public health...I get it :) I love it! and I'm NEVER gonna stop doing it! Wow, I didn't realize I had so much to say on that point. Anyway, it’s time to move on.

We finally get to the ferry depot and walk on, enjoy our 1.5 hour ride across the English Channel, and off again and onto the bus that took us to our next train station. At this point it’s important to note that there were 7 of us that rode the ferry by foot. Two teenage boys, like Kyle’s age, one French woman, us, and a cute young couple that we soon found out were just engaged to be married in Prague on Valentines and were out for a 36 hour adventure before she was to return to Boston and he to London.

We get to the station and come to find out that we are about to miss the LAST train to Paris. It leaves in 5 minutes and it takes 15 minutes to get to the station it leaves from and the next option doesn’t leave until 9:30am the next morning. Super! The French lady was being picked up by her husband and not incline to offer any advice, the boys, well, I don’t really know what happened to them, they pretty much disappeared as soon as we got there. So, that left us and the English speaking couple. Here’s what happened:

We tried really hard to find a car to rent and split four ways and I would drive us to Paris. Apparently, even Hertz has European mentality in Europe. I swear EVERYTHING closes at 8pm!! The security guard, pretty much the only person left in the station, called us a taxi and we headed to Calais. The driver must have had somewhere really pressing to get to because while we’re sitting there starring at the fact that we’re in the middle-ish of some town with no sign of the next step in our transportation in sight and very few people, he gets out and starts opening our doors and taking our stuff out of his trunk for us. Hahaha what a nice man. We quickly hop out and he just takes off without a word. Hm. I suggest we go to the nearest hotel and ask about a rental or taxi, etc. That was uneventful at best. All the guy said was,"well, go down the street to the train station and try and get on a train" (we’d already emphasized that we knew there were no more) and on our way out he hollars, “And if there aren’t any, you can just come back! I’ll be here all night!” Thanks. Thanks for that. You're so kind.

We start walking, and I swear the girl, Kim, is starting to get annoyed because she just keeps bringing up, “see I told you we should have just gone to Tele Viv.” We’ve been walking in the rain now for like 15 minutes and we kinda stop to be like, “ok, what are we really doing? Like what’s the plan,” and some van taxi pulls into the gas station next to us. I kinda look at Kim and we non-verbally agree, “James, go offer him 250 euro to drive us to Paris.” He goes and after a few minutes, looks over his shoulder and says with a smile, “we’re in business!” A lot of times people say, “If you ever get lost/if in doubt, just go to the police station and they’ll totally know how to help.” Well, in the mission you quickly learn, at least as a sister missionary, that postmen are far more reliable, knowledgeable, and you’re much less likely to fear falling victim to inappropriate gestures or being followed in comparison to cops. In Europe, I decided it’s the taxi drivers. Though I can’t vouch for whether or not they are proper and appropriate. I guess since I can’t understand it if they are dirty it’s of less consequence to me. This fine gentleman pulls out his phone and in two shakes we are driving to a train station about 100 euro away to catch their last train out to another station for the last train in the region heading to Paris for the evening. Woot Woot!!! He was kinda funny because he kept contradicting himself once we were in his car. Like, "yeah, I for sure can get you there on time." vs. "It'll be close we should be ok." That kinda thing. Or like when we first asked about him driving us all the way to Paris it was 500 euro and then it was suddenly 650 euro.

Anyway, so I know I’m just gonna sound like I’m complaining, which honestly if you’ve gotten that from this or the last post, it’s misperceived, we’re actually have a blast through all this “real” backpacking experience, but can I just say we’re sitting in the taxi and we know we’re totally crunched for time and we’re all used to taxis in other places, but come on my friend, the speed limit, really? Like I swear we almost missed the train because this man had an unhealthy need to not take the right of every taxi driver and live up to the stereotype of swerving in and out of lanes and driving insanely fast through back roads and alleys ways to make sure we get to our destination in plenty of time. Kim and I decided that he’s quite possibly THE SLOWEST taxi driver in the world! And there was no time for that right then. We finally arrived, paid, and ran off into the station. NONE of the ticket machines would accept ANY of our cards. We even enlisted the help of some nice dad and a couple teenage boys to try to help us since everything was in French. Weird. Luckily for us we could finally use our Eurail pass (though it wasn’t validated yet) so it was less stressful when we remembered that. The dad told us to just run and get on it and try and pay the conductor there. So we did.

The taxi driver told us that we would get off and then go down the street about 200 m to another station and then we’d be off. Along the way though he kept increasing distance and sounding less and less confident that we would make it.

“and then you’ll run 200 m…”

“and then you’ll run 200-300m…”

“and then you’ll run down, around the corner, and across a little bridge…300 or so meters…”

We had a 12 minute layover time and were told by the taxi driver and the first train conductor we’d be totally fine.

“It’s just a short 5 minute walk.”

Yeah, right.

We get off the train and start walking toward the exit; at first glance we can see the other station. No problem. But as we approach a pretty big intersection, our stroll turns to a brisk walk and so much that by the time we get to the head of the bridge we’re in a full on sprint! I’m not kidding you. Backpack and all. I was dying!!! By the time we were 1/4th of the way across the bridge James and Kim are at least at the halfway point already. Janise and I straggling behind so badly it made us laugh and therefore even slower (they only had their tooth brushes, deodorant, and cookies in their one backpack). James sees our distress, turns about, grabs my pack, throws me his, grabs Janise’s and heads right back up to the head of our little pack. Even with next to nothing to carry, the three of us girls seriously couldn’t keep up with him. Boy oh boy were we a sight to see. Here’s is this gangly tall white Aussy with a backpacking pack on his back and two smaller packs in his arms, a beautiful bright blonde dressed like she’s going to Paris with a purple clutch in hand, a cute Malano girl with her fro popping out in all directions from under her hat dressed head to toe in standard REI traveler’s apparel and a smile that can be seen from a mile away, and me, jeans, P-coat, scarf, and a green army cap on with a flower silk scarf popping out from one side protecting my ears from the cold. We made it huffing and puffing onto the train just as the doors were closing. Oh yeah! Oh yeah! We made it! Don’t “there’s no way for you to get to Paris tonight” Me! Bam! And as if that wasn’t awesome enough, they didn’t come around asking for tickets so James and Kim caught it for free…and it was a speed train!! Heavenly Father loves us!!

Needless to say I was a bit tired by the time we got on the second train...

unlike some people...this is Kim and James

We embrace and talk of future reunions at their wedding and Kim goes, “well guys, good job, today we didn’t get ‘Taken’." We headed our separate ways. For them, some romantic hotel near the center of town and for us…well, we’ll see.

Awe Paris, the city of love. More like the city of no one wants to help or go the extra mile, I can’t find wifi, there’s creepy men EVERYWHERE starring at us and approaching us (just soak it all in daddy :) ), walking up and down streets or through “neighborhoods” who’s residents have lined the streets with their plastic, blanket, and cardboard box homes, and trying to not look lost. So, the original travel plans were to catch the 12:30pm ferry to Calais, speed train from Calais to Paris, change stations, catch the 8:30pm sleeper train to Munich, and finally the 9am train to Gyor (smallish town outside of Budapest). It was 11:44pm which meant we literally missed the backup plan sleeper train by 4 minutes. 4 minutes? Really? Thank you. Back to the streets we go. We back tracked a bit to a McDonalds we’d passed to see if they had wifi and to just sit and think about what to do next. We definitely got kicked out. Not because we were rude or anything but because again, apparently there’s no such thing as “Open 24 hrs” anywhere. And I think they weren’t so keen on us eating our own food in there. From there we just stopped in on the first kinda quaint hotel we found with wifi and I stayed up all night trying to figure out the new plan and just laughing at myself and the happenings of quite possibly the most eventful, adventurous, and probably backpacky day of our trip and probably my life…at least to this point. Did I mention it took the internet 2-3 hrs to work normally…oh yeah, I was lovin’ it!

I always forget sitting like this isn't normal until someone stands up on a table to take a picture...or just makes a comment...that's me...just keep planning, planning, planning...hey, someone's gotta do it!

"Round and round the merry go round the monkey chased the weasel"

Going, going, gone!!!

When I got to the counter the man started questioning my return (referencing that ticket I explained at the end of my last post). I’m sure the huge pack on my back had nothing to do with it. He said, “You’re not coming back are you?” to which I simple relied, “yes, actually I am. We’re staying with friends just outside of London.” He looked at me snobbishly and printed my ticket. Hey, I didn’t lie. He never asked if I was coming back THAT day and we are coming back through and staying the night before our flight home. I feel totally in good conscience about it. Sorry dude.

So we got on the train, clarified with the conductor when to get off and enjoyed the 2 hour ride. Oh yeah and I totally didn’t mention that this way, because we left earlier, we were going to get to Paris an hour earlier than had we taken the Eurostar. Awesome! We go to get off and the conductor waived us off, “No, no, this is platform 1 & 2, you want 5 & 6.” Um, ok. We sit back down and just as the train is pulling out of the station we see our conductor run, grab his bag, hop off the train he told us to stay on, and take off down the platform, up some stairs, and gone. Hmm…that’s interesting. You see, the train he had us stay on was to split in half at that station at which point only one half would get us to the bus we needed to get to the ferry. Welp, too late now. We keep going. I look out the window and notice we are now taking a sharp left turn. Uh…the coastline is to my right. I didn’t say anything to Janise because she’s already a nervous traveler, but I started to laugh inside as I watched our destination of choice disappear in the distance and be replaced with some of the most beautiful countryside that I’ve ever seen. I still have a game plan in the back of my head as I strain to see the map for our next best route. Eventually Janise realizes what’s going on and that we’re about to miss our originally desired ferry time. I explained what was happening and assured her we’d be just fine. I had three back up plan times for the ferry and all our needed trains. Don’t even fret it. I turn and spoke with a man sitting behind me and we figured outa new plan of action. We would ride the train to the end of its line, get off, take a bus to another train station, and that one would have a direction shot to Dover Prior, where we want to be. It stops, we get off, I’m being totally relaxed because Janise is really having a hard time with this, I’m staring at the bulletin board in search for something about buses, I mean how hard can it be?? We’re in an English speaking country for goodness sake!! Nothing. I can’t read a signal thing. I still haven’t a clue what all that information and those numbers were all about, bah! I don’t speak/read mathematics and that’s about all I was seeing. That was not one of the foreseen uses of all those math classes I had to take in high school and college. Luckily, the nice man STOPPED the bus and ran and came and got us on it. We get on and it is chuck full; everyone’s looking at us weird. We sat upstairs and the nice man followed. 20 or so minutes later he jumps up and says, “Ok! Let’s go!” Startled and clueless we nearly kill ourselves trying to get to the bottom of the stairs and the bus is rocking back and forth, forward and backwards. I’m pretty sure I nearly kill some little kid ;). Stuck behind all these people, we are last to get off and by the time my feet touch the ground our friend is gone and we’re both standing there totally unaware of where we are or what to do next. We walk into the nearest building which appears to be a train station only to be scoffed at with the news that due to the weather the train station is closed for the day. What? Ummm, isn’t this England? Like doesn’t it rain, I don’t know, 300 days a year????? Closed due to rain? Ok. He tells us to get to the train station we’d just left and it’ll take us to our ferry. Awesome. So, we head back out to the bus and our driver is there huddled with a couple others taking shelter from this life stopping rain (it’s like drizzling) and says, “Hey didn’t you guys just get off my bus?” Holding back giggles I explain and he informs us that yeah, the train we were on “ends” at that stop, BUT, and here’s the kicker, if we would have just stayed on it, it loops back around and stops off at our stop on its way to the main junction. Of course it does. Another 20 min bus ride back to whence we came and a hurried encouragement to jump on the next train left us sitting with tears of laughter in our eyes as the train starts and heads once again AWAY from our destination. Apparently THIS train opted for the direct return as opposed to the loop-da-loop. The new conductor approaches for our ticket and with a fatherly, knowing grin on his face upon hearing our tale of helpful people’s great intentions gone wrong he says he will accompany us to the right train once this one stops. Ooop, and of course threw in there that had we just waited 5 more minutes, the next train would have taken us right there. I’m lovin’ that phrase, “WOULD have taken you RIGHT there.” Music to my ears. Instead, a potential 10 min ride will once again be elongated and by that point we will have now missed not only “THE plan” and the backup, but even the back up for my back up plan. It keeps getting better and better, and I haven’t even told you how this effects out France travel options. Ha!
45 minutes later we pull into the main junction, you know the very first one where we tried to get off but the conductor shewed us back to our seats…yeah that one. By this point the conductor had brought us back to 1st class so he could make sure he knew exactly where we were and then grabbing one of Janise’s bags takes off speed walking as soon as the doors jet open. “Mind the Gap,” down the platform, up two flights of stairs, down another platform, and straight into a group of conductors, he says, directing his comments to a cutie old gpa conductor, “Hey can you make sure these ladies get on your train and off at Dover Prior?” To which he responds, “Oh they’ve been going back and forth on the trains huh?” We all burst into affirming laughter.
At least we weren’t the only ones, right?

"A dream is a goal without a plan."

Our destination: Budapest, Hungary. Some of you may be wondering why? After all, we’re planning on Paris, all over Germany, Italy, Switzerland, etc. all between England and Hungary. Welp, being that our accommodations are contingent on our friends and family being home, we have made some great alterations and it’s going to be better than ever!

Something I’ve learned about myself is that when I have planned something out like to a “T” it’s not unusual for my blood pressure to rise when things get thrown totally off. I’ve known this about myself for quite some time and have been working diligently to overcome it. I’m mean come on, that’s life? My sister Kimi used always say, “If you want to make Heavenly Father laugh, just tell him your 5 year plan.” Ha. Ha. Being a person known for always having a 5 year plan, I don’t know if she would say that to be a sass or just as a general statement or philosophy of life. The best or most effective medicine for treating this unfortunate disease of fouled-up-plan-anxiety or unmet-expectation-heart-attack ;) was the last 2 years of my life. You’d think that the mission would do it for me. I served in Taiwan. Does anything ever really turn out the way you thought when speaking or reading Chinese?? But alas, I’ve decided that time was not “the best two years” but the “easiest two years” or in my case 18 months. All I had to do was get up and things would happen. I made plans and they either worked or we were shown another plan. Real life is way harder. I just can’t seem to find the time to pray 4,000 and one times a day so the Lord can tell me how to breathe. Nope, the mission far from rid me of this disease. In fact, I would venture to say it made it worse. 18 months of knowing the plan and knowing it worked out just the way it was supposed to—the Lord’s way— and never questioning that, man, that’ll mess a girl up when she’s thrust back into the twists and turns of the realm of this mortal life that seems to matter far above all else. Hello! Sure “The Great Day of Judgment” is important albeit intense, but let’s remember, even that day is based off the plans of this life, changed or not. Eesh! Well, now that I’ve made you all think that I’m totally a psycho “my way or the highway” person that just might explode at the slightest change of my delicately arranged plans, anticipated or not, let’s get back to the point that I’ve been working on this (and just by way of disclaimer, I’m really not “one of those” and if you disagree, from personal experience or not, feel free to bite your tongue :P).

One of my best friends Rebecca Edwards Woolf lent me a book about a year and a half ago, or more, titled, “When prayers seem unanswered.” Great little read. I read it all the way to Paraguay—I think that’s the trip. It was so good in fact that I actually left it on the plane in the pocket of the seat in front of me. You know, so when the stewardesses go through and clean it the one person that really needs it more than Becca and I will end up with it (or in other words, I forgot it, sorry Bec, I think you’ve since referred to how you “gave” it to me, but I actually know that that’s not how it actually played out…I promise I’ll buy you a new one…someday when I recover financially from this trip). Anyway, there was a part in the book about expectations and how they really are the reason people get all huffy puffy, stressed, anxious, frustrated, blah blah blah, about life. In the margin Becca wrote something to the effect of, “So, don’t have expectations,” and it went on to talk about how being careful with expectations is good. Not to say that Bec thinks we should never have expectations but more like don’t allow your expectations to be life or death. I’ve learned a lot from her words and have really striven to work toward having a healthier relationship with expectations. Oh yeah! And BYUSA (Brigham Young University Student Service Association) and my position with all the clubs on campus, etc. was the “best medicine” that I referenced above. Absolutely unpredictable, everyday. Oh BYUSA.

It’s still a work in progress, but I think the next bit will show you that I’m most certainly improving. Particularly for this trip, I didn't have a set schedule for anything other than one or two locations so as to avoid potential unwanted feelings :)

Off to Hungary we go! We did some research and work with our friends to find all the ways we could get to mainland Europe and then on. After hours of discussion there were two options:
1. Take the EuroStar through the Chunnel: 2.5 hrs, really nice accommodations, leaves from the train station we’re most familiar with and get us straight to Paris to catch our night train to Hungary. 200-300 pounds Ugh!! Next please!
2. Take the overground to the underground to the overground to a bus to the ferry to another bus to catch a train to Paris to catch another bus to a different train station from which our over night train leaves. About 100 pounds.

These options were determined while I was out with my friend Haley

We met up for the evening, had dinner at this cutie little Italian spot, saw a musical "Pettycoats and Dreamboats", and ended it with ice sunday's at McD's...so great!

and were presented to me upon my return at around midnight-ish. I wasn’t too stoked just because time and money are the things you often can't help but think about when traveling, but being that those were “the only options” I was ready to run with it. Janise and Paul were leaning toward us taking the Eurostar for convenience sake but we’d already forked out a million dollars for the Eurail pass and didn’t feel like convenience was a good enough reason to drop another 300 bones. Janise really wasn’t so keen on the cheaper option because she thought it would be harder, but I just thought it was backpacking-esc, way more adventurous, way cheaper, and way more fun. I still felt like we could go cheaper. I started doing some research and Janise gradually joined in. After about two hours we hit the jackpot! We found out about this totally sweet rail ticket that we could buy that was more than 50% less than the standard methods. We went with that. Obvy! For those prudent of heart don’t’ judge me here: basically, what we did was went to the main station and bought what’s called a “One day return pass” which literally means it gets you all the way to France and it’s significantly discounted because the limited options: roundtrip ONLY. It was so cheap that it would cut our costs down to a mere 33.50 pounds plus 2 pounds for one of the bus rides!!! Exactly $100 less than our “cheap” option. Now I could sleep with sweet dreams of sugar plums dancing in my head.

Elated doesn’t even begin to describe my excitement!