Your New Favorite Thing

Musical Musings

Traveling always puts me in such a Mika mood. I don't know why.

Actually, scratch that...I do. I think it all stems from the first big trip (not counting the few days we spent in Paris a year or two before) Jon and I took, the four month extravaganza at the end of 2009. When we were in Budapest, Rachel sent me Mika's second album and it was on repeat (especially this one...and bonus points for the very Burner-like video) for the rest of the trip. Couldn't stop dancing to it. So I think Mika always reminds me of traveling now. :)

Lately I've been into watching live performances, because I had the great pleasure of seeing him live once back in college, and it was one of the greatest live performances I've witnessed yet. Totally on-point vocally, great energy, incredible connection to his audience, massive spectacle...his show is such a colorful, joyful experience. I'm dying to see him again. His 3rd album will be out this fall (September, I think), so perhaps he'll do a US tour soon!

In the meantime, here are some of the faves I've been enjoying lately...

In Any Other World:

Happy Ending:

I love what a spaz he is. The man cannot dance - and he knows it - so he just flails around the stage instead:

Then there's this one...

...which is this one, translated into French:

He's done it a few times, because he's fluent in French. This version is more complete (also, I want those pants!):

I think I also need this jacket:

And then there's this one, Underwater, which will be on the new album. Can't wait for a studio version...it sounds like it's going to be amazing:

Lisbon: 7.29.12

I just realized I never told you what actually happened to kaZantip, just prattled on about Lisbon in my excitement over being in a new country! Here’s the story…

I did a quick Google search after we got here to try to figure out what went wrong. If you recall, the first story I heard was that the festival lacked the requisite permits to serve food and beverages. My Google investigation, however, unearthed the story that kaZantip did not move from Ukraine to Portugal. In fact, the Portuguese festival was a copy of the original event that was trying to make people believe the Ukranian kaZantip had moved to a new country. Was the new event just a scam to make off with the ticket money? Don't know, and it doesn't matter to us, since we never had tickets in the first place. Was it just a new event trying to capitalize on the success of the kaZantip brand? I think I'm more inclined to believe that option. It seems, based on pictures, that the location was actually set up for the festival. That seems like far too much effort to put into something that's just a trick to scam people out of a little cash.

We may never know the real story, but it doesn't much matter. I have never been one to dwell, and Jon isn't either, so I had already moved on from kaZantip by the time we landed in Portugal. There will be more parties, and I had such a great time at Balaton that I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything. We have the option of detouring to Ukraine to go to the real festival, but I don't think we will. We've both unexpectedly fallen for Lisbon, so there's no need. It will just be another tale of travel-gone-awry to add to our repertoire!

So let's see...what other stories do I have to share about Lisbon so far?

Our second day here was pretty quiet. We were still exhausted from the trip, and both of us had work to catch up on. We managed to make it out of our hotel room for lunch and a wander through a grocery store (I love going grocery shopping in other countries...it's up there with hotel breakfasts on Elyse's List of Favorite Things To Do While Abroad), and a return to the restaurant we had dinner at the first night. This time around we had an impeccably grilled salmon steak. They have charcoal grills in the kitchen, which would never fly in the US, but which make for some insanely good food. We capped it off with a native dessert that's some kind of chocolate mousse-cake hybrid. Too soft to be a cake, too solid to be a mousse. Whatever it was, it was decadent and delicious.

Afterwards we attempted to explore more of Bairro Alto, but it was mostly just people in the streets by the time we got there. Bars close early here (1-2am), at least by NYC/Miami standards. Portuguese nightlife seems to follow this pattern: late dinner (9 or 10pm), bars in Bairro Alto (until closing), then clubbing down by the water. Personally, what I think is actually going on is: dinner (9 or 10pm), bars in Bairro Alto (until closing), NAP, then clubbing down by the water. Otherwise I don't know how they could stay out as late/drink as much as they do!

We went to Lux, one of the major nightclubs in town, on Friday night, and it didn't start getting busy until 4am. And we thought we were going late by arriving at 2am! The Portuguese party like the Germans...arrive late, party all morning, go home in the afternoon. Lux was a nice space (3 floors, rooftop bar overlooking the river), but we were both too sleepy to really enjoy it.

We did a little better last night, because we made a point of being out in time for Bairro Alto bars. Our first stop was the bar we visited the first night, with the band playing Britney Spears, for another giant mojito. There was no Britney to be had, unfortunately, so we left shortly after procuring our beverage. The rest of the night was spent exploring the neighborhood, wandering in and out of establishments that looked cool or were playing good music. We found a super kitschy Swiss bar called, predictably, Heidi. The whole place was dripping in cheesy decorations - fake flowers, lederhosen, stuffed Saint Bernards - but the music was good, so we settled in. That's where we met the Viking.

He looked like a more homeless version of Zack Galifianakis, and he was dressed like he was on the Playa. Huge fur vest, massive white sunglasses, stripy pajama pants, layers of necklaces and, topping it all off, a horned Viking helmet. He also had a phone...and I don't mean a cell phone, I mean a phone with a cord that disappeared into his backpack. As strange as this man sounds (well...was), he was owning the bar. Taking pictures with everyone, dancing with all the girls...he was the center of attention, all night long. We befriended a group of Irish girls who had been befriended by him, and together we went in search of more fun when Heidi closed. The Viking wanted to take us to a club called Incognito and we figured "Well...why not?" We made quite a motley crew on the walk there.

Adding to the strangeness of the night, it turned out that homeless-Viking-man knew the manager (or the owner...I can't remember!). Who would have guessed?! He spoke to his contacts about letting us jump the line, but the club was at capacity. We thought about sticking around until things cleared up, but we were sleepy and hanging out with a crazy bearded homeless-looking Viking is only charming for so long.

Our daytimes have been all about the food. We've been going on a culinary tour of Lisbon, and it's been delightful. We found a Belgian-style waffles place when we took a walk down to the water, and we made the delicious discovery of Portuguese pastries. Portugal is famous for its pastries, and it's a reputation well deserved. I think we've tried 5 kinds over the last 3 days. No regrets.

The first was a pastel de nata, the most famous of all Portuguese pastries. It's an egg cream custard in filo dough that looks like a mini pie. The second was a savory pastry filled with parma ham, followed by a cooked pear wrapped in dough with a cinnamon stick stuck through the middle. It was like eating a little pear pie. The next day we sampled two more, one shaped like a pizza slice with a tropical fruity filing and the other called a "bola de Berlim" or a "Berliner." A Berliner is a round, deep-fried pastry with sugar on the outside and a soft, sweet, bright yellow filling made from egg yolks. A lot of Portuguese desserts are egg-based, as it turns out.

I think I'm drooling just thinking about them. Lisbon is going to be bad for my waistline.

Lisbon: 7.28.12

When last we spoke, some very interesting things were afoot out here in Europe. Interesting things are still going on, but this time it's interesting things of the good variety! Lisbon, as it turns out, is awesome.

When we left off, Jon and I were at Kiado, killing time before heading to the airport, and had just fournd out that kaZantip in Portugal was closed. The news was...confusing, to say the least. What now?

In the short-term, the answer was easy: get on the plane to Portugal. But then what? We had no idea. The airport was surprisingly busy for 5am, but we passed through security easily and fell asleep as soon as we settled in on the plane. After a brief layover in Barcelona, we arrived in Lisbon. KaZantip was supposed to bus people from the airport to the event, so we had no plans to spend any time in Lisbon. Fortunately the airport had wi-fi, so we were able to book a hotel for the night.

Off we went via metro, which was fast and modern and clean. +1 for Lisbon. When we arrived at our destination, we were introduced to one of the most notable aspects of Lisbon: the hills. There are lots of them. And they are not so fun when you're dragging around luggage and it's super hot out. The hills make for a beautiful city, as does the weather, but they are a tough combination!

When we found the hotel, we were greeted by a drunk man who proceded to ring every buzzer for the building simultaneously and shout for the owner at the top of his booze-soaked lungs. "Antonio! Antoniooooo!!" Antonio looked less than pleased with our escort, but was more than nice to us. Apparently he'd given the drunk a beer once, and now he can't get rid of him. At least he makes an interesting welcome party for guests. :)

The hotel proved to be quite cool for a last minute find. It felt more like staying in an apartment than staying in a hotel. There was a terrace, and a tearoom, and a kitchen for guests to share that was stocked with a few essentials like coffee and cereal. Everything was decorated in old Portuguese style, and all the furniture was from the 18th century. Not too shabby. Antonio was insanely friendly and accommodating, but to a New Yorker it was the kind of nice that's too nice. New Yorkers find it disconcerting when someone is that helpful!

His niceness came in handy, though, because he recommended a great restaurant for our first dinner in town. I had high hopes for Portuguese cuisine, and so far I have not been disappointed. Portugal is all about creating delicious dishes from very little. It's all simple, hearty food, but so well prepared. Seasonings and sauces are kept to a minimum, so that the real food - the vegetables and the meat - can take the spotlight. We decided to go with something that Epic Meal Time would appreciate: a plate full of pork products. There were two kinds of sausage, "bacon" (thicker slabs of meat than the thin slices we would call bacon), and the best black pudding I have ever had. Who knew congealed blood could taste so good? :)

The other great success of the meal was its liquid accompaniment: a 6 Euro bottle of wine. "€6?," you say. "That must have been awful!" Nope. In fact, it was one of the better whites I can remember having. I'm not usually much of a white drinker, but this one was dry and perfect. Portugal takes wine very seriously, so I guess I'll have to drink plenty more before leaving.

Fun Facts: in addition to wine-making, Lisbon is also known for...

1. Being the cheapest captial in Western Europe.
2. Being the westernmost capital in Western Europe.
3. Being the oldest capital in Western Europe.

#1 has been fantastic...Lisbon seems dirt cheap for a capital. Our food bills are consistently less than we expect them to be. As for #2, I keep thinking that Lisbon is on the ocean - I keep expecting to see or smell it - but it's not. It's in fact on a large river, the Tagus (the longest river on the Iberian Peninsula). Love the city, but it would still be better with a beach or two! #3 is largely responsible for why the city is so beautiful. No skyscrapers or other garish modern buildings. Intricately patterned cobblestone streets. Colorfully painted and tiled homes (apparently much of Portuguese art is done on tile).

Our first night out was spent in an especially vibrant neighborhood called Bairro Alto. The streets were packed with people...it was actually kind of hard to spot the actual bars through the crowds! Eventually we heard live music emanating from a door, and popped in just in time to hear the band play a hilariously amazing version of "Baby One More Time." I managed to catch a video of part of it, which you can see in the Flickr account I posted recently.

After that we took our giant mojio (0.75L!) and joined the throngs in the street. We spent the rest of the evening wandering around, getting a feel for our new city. The highlight was stumbling upon a very awkward Canadian attempting to woo a local girl. I have never witnessed a more unfortunate date in my life...it was so hard to stifle the laughter. I hope he at least got a kiss out of all that hard work!

I Need It

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/property/9415929/Oscar-Wildes-house-is-up-for-sale.html

Picture Post!

I promise I'll post a full update soon, but in the meantime, I've created a Flickr account with all my pictures from the trip so far:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/83575717@N04/sets/72157630775531310/

Enjoy!

A Detour

I'm taking a quick break from all the traveling hullabaloo to bring you this, William Close and his Earth Harp on America's Got Talent:

http://www.nbc.com/americas-got-talent/video/william-close-and-his-earth-harp/1401567/

William and the harp were at Burning Man last year, and I had the great pleasure of listening to them perform together while watching the sun set from the Temple. It was one of my more beautiful and moving experiences on the Playa, and a favorite memory of BM 2011, so it's great to see him succeed elsewhere!

Budapest: 7.24.12

Hello, lovelies!

It’s been on the quiet side here, so I haven’t had much reason to write. I’ve stayed in for the past couple of nights, working, which doesn’t make for particularly compelling journaling. The most exciting thing that’s happened was attempting to lighten my hair, which…sort of worked? I look at bit more like a redhead now, which is nice. Perhaps I can get more of the dark out another time, and continue the transition into red. For now, I’m busy trying to nourish it back to health with coconut oil.

Jon and I also managed to uphold a very important Budapest tradition: all-you-can-eat sushi at Wasabi. I believe we managed 60 plates between us this time…not bad. JNo luck, like last time, with the sesame balls I love, but other than that oversight, we scored particularly well with the desserts this time around. My favorite was a squishy, gelatinous, greyish blob (mmm…doesn’t that sound appetizing?) dusted with sugar and black sesame seeds, and filled with a soft black sesame paste. It looks a bit like a sea creature you’d expect to find stuck to the hull of a boat or nestled between anemones in a tide pool, but it’s really delicious! (And very sticky…you have to wrestle it off the plate.)

In addition to observing our personal Budapest traditions, we’ve even managed to do one touristy thing on this trip: a visit to the Szechenyi Baths, which we hadn’t yet seen while in town.

But that story will have to wait, because the lighting here is terrible and I can’t see what I’m writing…

* * *

Better lighting has been found! I am now sitting in a bar with my laptop open and headphones in my ears, while sipping coffee and writing in my journal. Life of the party, I am.

I would say I’m listening to Deadmau5, which would normally secure me at least a few party points, but it’s “The Veldt,” which is probably the most chilled-out song he’s ever released, so…negative points. Obsessed with it, though. Can’t listen to it without feeling compelled to sway like some kind of blissed out hippie.

Rather unexpectedly, it turns out that a lot has happened in the few intervening hours between my first attempt to write this entry and now.

A) Someone broke a window at Kiado (accidentally, I should mention) while we were there for our obligatory last visit before leaving the country. It made the most impressive crashing sound I have ever heard.

B) And, more importantly, kaZantip is cancelled. Yes, you read that right: kaZantip, the reason I am boarding a plane to Lisbon in a few hours, is cancelled. Holy ****.

You know that quote about love? Something like, “The course of true love never did run smooth?” Yeah, that quote should have been about traveling instead…being a nomad is never what you expect it to be, and never smooth. Here’s the story…

I just happened to search “kaZantip” on Twitter today, and saw an article calling it a “fraud.” Naturally, I clicked. The writer said that the event – which wasn’t scheduled to open until tomorrow – is a total mess. Gross, muddy water…bleak-looking location (a few pics were posted)…no food or drinks being sold, etc. It could have all been BS, but I sent the link to Jon just to be on the safe side.
A couple of hours later, over glasses of Hungaria Extra Dry, he broke the news: “kaZantip is closed.”

I probably made a Scooby Doo noise (you know the one I’m talking about), as it’s really the only appropriate response to such a statement. My immediate thought wasn’t for the festival fun I would be missing out on, but for Jon…who was scheduled to make his spinning debut while we were there. L

Apparently, the event failed to acquire a required permit for selling food and drinks, and therefore had to shut down. They say they’re trying to fix it, but supposedly the organizer has fled to Switzerland, so I’m not exactly holding my breath for kaZantip’s glorious return.

How’s that for an unexpected turn of events?

They’re reimbursing everyone for ticket costs, but we were going for free since Jon was supposed to DJ, so it doesn’t affect us. What does affect us is that we now have an extra week of hotels to pay for. Boo. We’ll still be going to Portugal, since we’ve never been and we’ve both been looking forward to seeing a new country, but this development has certainly cast a shadow over our last night in Hungary…

Budapest: 7.20.12

Feeling much perkier today, after several days of feeling utterly blah. I'm still not back 100%, but it's a vast improvement.

The most exciting things that have been happening lately haven't actually been related to my travels. On the travel front, I managed to drag Jon out (under great duress) to the Great Market Hall in search of cheap caviar. Last time I visited, Jocelyn and I found caviar for $1.50! There was no cheap caviar to be had today, but we found a delicious stuffed cabbage instead and the excursion was a nice excuse for a walk through the city. Jon was especially excited because we found a building where Katy Perry filmed the video for Firework (the balcony/rooftop she's on with the checkered floor). I think it made up for the fact that I forced him to leave the hotel room. :)

Last night was spent at Instant, as per usual. It turned out to be quite an international evening! In addition to all the Hungarians and at least these two Americans, we encountered people from Ireland, England, Canada, Australia, Spain, and Belgium (and probably more that I've forgotten). Afterwards we went home to work on Jon's upcoming set for kaZantip. It's been a blast trying to pick out songs for it!

The most interesting things lately, as I mentioned, have been un-travel-related. I've been carrying on an e-conversation a travel blogger/entrepreneur I've followed for a couple of years, which has been an excellent souce of amusement. He invited me to pay him a visit in Romania, if our travel plans happen to match up, so I may try to work that out before going to Russia.

The other decision I'm mulling over involves, of all things, Oxford. 8 years later and I still can't shake my love for that place. So here's what I'm thinking: 2013 summer creative writing course. There are several possible options, but the one I really want is an intensive course I would have to apply to. Obviously it would have nothing to do with a degree, but for someone who writes professionally I've had very little training as a writer. I've only taken 2 creative writing classes (one of which was during my Oxford trip in '04), EVER. And that just seems silly.

I think it's at least worth sending in an application, no? It would be both a chance to hone my skills and a chance to revisit one of my favorite places on the planet. And then perhaps I could do the UK tour I've always wanted to do before/after it. I think it sounds like a perfect plan...

Budapest: 7.19.12

Just a quick check in today, to fill you in on the (very little) you’ve missed…

B City was Andrea’s last stop in Hungary – after that she gathered her bags and caught a cab to the airport (her flight was around 6am…ugh). The past couple of days haven’t been terribly exciting, I’m sorry to report. We’re in the customary post-festival recovery slump. I finally procured one of the famous chicken sandwiches, which was just as delicious as always, and paid second visits to Kiado and Instant. Other than that, it’s just been work, reading (finished the John Irving novel, started in on Jeffrey Eugenides’ first book), and recuperating.

Yep, reuperating. I’m sick. And so is Jon. And so is Andrea. Personally I think it’s a sign of a weekend well spent! And also a sign that I’m getting old (although if I feel old, I can’t imagine what Jon and Andrea must feel like...). Apparently I can now only stay up to see the sun rise for so many days in a row before my body breaks down and refuses to work anymore. Sigh. It was a great weekend, but I’m paying for its greatness with a sore throat, the sniffles, and an insane amount of snot…

Picture Post!

A few shots Andrea took over the weekend...

A doodle Andrea drew on my arm.

Looking like I'm about to make out with my lipgloss at B City.

The three travelers and their sexy new friend at B City.

Budapest: 7.17.12

A very happy birthday to the beautiful Miss Jocelyn!! Miss you!!!

We’re back in Budapest now, after an unexpectedly long journey and very little sleep. Following a final breakfast in our hotel, Jon and Andrea and I packed up and headed to the train station. The train arrived just as we did, but it was already stuffed-to-bursting with passengers. There was no hope of getting on it. We decided to wait for the next one, without knowing when it was due in, which turned out to be only a marginally better option. It was a gorgeous day, which made waiting around an ok fate, but which also meant we all got sunburned.

Fortunately mine is just a bit on the left of my neck, because I was trying to keep my face out of the sun. Unfortunately, we all got at least a small farmer’s tan! Not a good look. I think mine will fade into my camping tan, though, so it will be the least noxious of the 3 and I won’t be stuck with it for long.

When the train finally arrived it was only slightly less packed – no seats available, but room to sit on the floor just inside the door. I managed a small nap, after getting only 3 hours of sleep the night before, but it wasn’t a very good one. We came home to our new hotel (oh, how good it feels to be back in a Budapest-style courtyard building!) after being charged 5x more than we should have by a cab driver. Yeah, that part of Hungary I didn’t miss…

Our first stop after settling in was all about tradition: mudslides at Friday’s in Oktagon. Not classy, but delicious. Following that it was naptime, followed by work time for me while Jon and Andrea went for a walk, followed by a visit to Instant. It was great to be back, even if I rarely drink any more! We mostly just sat around chatting, taking pictures, letting Andrea doodle on us. I have a nice abstract drawing on my right forearm now.

Our second stop was B CIty, where we ran into two other Californians – one from somewhere in SoCal, one from Walnut Creek. It was awesome to see CA repped in Hungary!

Travel, young person

Why you should travel young
by Jeff Goins

As I write this, I’m flying. It’s an incredible concept: to be suspended in the air, moving at two hundred miles an hour — while I read a magazine. Amazing, isn’t it?

I woke up at three a.m. this morning. Long before the sun rose, thirty people loaded up three conversion vans and drove two hours to the San Juan airport. Our trip was finished. It was time to go home. But we were changed.

As I sit, waiting for the flight attendant to bring my ginger ale, I’m left wondering why I travel at all. The other night, I was reminded why I do it — why I believe this discipline of travel is worth all the hassle.

I was leading a missions trip in Puerto Rico. After a day of work, as we were driving back to the church where we were staying, one of the young women brought up a question.

“Do you think I should go to graduate school or move to Africa?”

I don’t think she was talking to me. In fact, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t. But that didn’t stop me from offering my opinion.

I told her to travel. Hands down. No excuses. Just go.

She sighed, nodding. “Yeah, but…”

I had heard this excuse before, and I didn’t buy it. I knew the “yeah-but” intimately. I had uttered it many times before. The words seem innocuous enough, but are actually quite fatal.

Yeah, but …

… what about debt?
… what about my job?
… what about my boyfriend?

This phrase is lethal. It makes it sound like we have the best of intentions, when really we are just too scared to do what we should. It allows us to be cowards while sounding noble.

Most people I know who waited to travel the world never did it. Conversely, plenty of people who waited for grad school or a steady job still did those things after they traveled.

It reminded me of Dr. Eisenhautz and the men’s locker room.

Dr. Eisenhautz was a German professor at my college. I didn’t study German, but I was a foreign language student so we knew each other. This explains why he felt the need to strike up a conversation with me at six o’clock one morning.

I was about to start working out, and he had just finished. We were both getting dressed in the locker room. It was, to say the least, a little awkward — two grown men shooting the breeze while taking off their clothes.

“You come here often?” he asked. I could have laughed.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” I said, still wiping the crusted pieces of whatever out of my eyes.

“That’s great,” he said. “Just great.”

I nodded, not really paying attention. He had already had his adrenaline shot; I was still waiting for mine. I somehow uttered that a friend and I had been coming to the gym for a few weeks now, about three times a week.

“Great,” Dr. Eisenhautz repeated. He paused as if to reflect on what he would say next. Then, he just blurted it out. The most profound thing I had heard in my life.

“The habits you form here will be with you for the rest of your life.”

My head jerked up, my eyes got big, and I stared at him, letting the words soak into my half-conscious mind. He nodded, said a gruff goodbye, and left. I was dumbfounded.

The words reverberated in my mind for the rest of the day. Years later, they still haunt me. It’s true — the habits you form early in life will, most likely, be with you for the rest of your existence.

I have seen this fact proven repeatedly. My friends who drank a lot in college drink in larger quantities today. Back then, we called it “partying.” Now, it has a less glamorous name: alcoholism. There are other examples. The guys and girls who slept around back then now have babies and unfaithful marriages. Those with no ambition then are still working the same dead end jobs.

“We are what we repeatedly do,” Aristotle once said. While I don’t want to sound all gloom-and-doom, and I believe your life can turn around at any moment, there is an important lesson here: life is a result of intentional habits. So I decided to do the things that were most important to me first, not last.

After graduating college, I joined a band and traveled across North America for nine months. With six of my peers, I performed at schools, churches, and prisons. We even spent a month in Taiwan on our overseas tour. (We were huge in Taiwan.)

As part of our low-cost travel budget, we usually stayed in people’s homes. Over dinner or in conversation later in the evening, it would almost always come up — the statement I dreaded. As we were conversing about life on the road — the challenges of long days, being cooped up in a van, and always being on the move — some well-intentioned adult would say, “It’s great that you’re doing this … while you’re still young.”

Ouch. Those last words — while you’re still young — stung like a squirt of lemon juice in the eye (a sensation with which I am well acquainted). They reeked of vicarious longing and mid-life regret. I hated hearing that phrase.

I wanted to shout back,

“No, this is NOT great while I’m still young! It’s great for the rest of my life! You don’t understand. This is not just a thing I’m doing to kill time. This is my calling! My life! I don’t want what you have. I will always be an adventurer.”

In a year, I will turn thirty. Now I realize how wrong I was. Regardless of the intent of those words, there was wisdom in them.

As we get older, life can just sort of happen to us. Whatever we end up doing, we often end up with more responsibilities, more burdens, more obligations. This is not always bad. In fact, in many cases it is really good. It means you’re influencing people, leaving a legacy.

Youth is a time of total empowerment. You get to do what you want. As you mature and gain new responsibilities, you have to be very intentional about making sure you don’t lose sight of what’s important. The best way to do that is to make investments in your life so that you can have an effect on who you are in your later years.

I did this by traveling. Not for the sake of being a tourist, but to discover the beauty of life — to remember that I am not complete.

There is nothing like riding a bicycle across the Golden Gate Bridge or seeing the Coliseum at sunset. I wish I could paint a picture for you of how incredible the Guatemalan mountains are or what a rush it is to appear on Italian TV. Even the amazing photographs I have of Niagara Falls and the American Midwest countryside do not do these experiences justice. I can’t tell you how beautiful southern Spain is from the vantage point of a train; you have to experience it yourself. The only way you can relate is by seeing them.

While you’re young, you should travel. You should take the time to see the world and taste the fullness of life. Spend an afternoon sitting in front of the Michelangelo. Walk the streets of Paris. Climb Kilimanjaro. Hike the Appalachian trail. See the Great Wall of China. Get your heart broken by the “killing fields” of Cambodia. Swim through the Great Barrier Reef. These are the moments that define the rest of your life; they’re the experiences that stick with you forever.

Traveling will change you like little else can. It will put you in places that will force you to care for issues that are bigger than you. You will begin to understand that the world is both very large and very small. You will have a newfound respect for pain and suffering, having seen that two-thirds of humanity struggle to simply get a meal each day.

While you’re still young, get cultured. Get to know the world and the magnificent people that fill it. The world is a stunning place, full of outstanding works of art. See it.

You won’t always be young. And life won’t always be just about you. So travel, young person. Experience the world for all it’s worth. Become a person of culture, adventure, and compassion. While you still can.

Do not squander this time. You will never have it again. You have a crucial opportunity to invest in the next season of your life now. Whatever you sow, you will eventually reap. The habits you form in this season will stick with you for the rest of your life. So choose those habits wisely.

And if you’re not as young as you’d like (few of us are), travel anyway. It may not be easy or practical, but it’s worth it. Traveling allows you to feel more connected to your fellow human beings in a deep and lasting way, like little else can. In other words, it makes you more human.

That’s what it did for me, anyway.

Balaton: 7.16.12

5:30am: I stumble home, with ears ringing and a massive smile plastered across my face, as a brilliant orange sunrise spreads out over Lake Balaton.

The past four days have been amazing. Balaton Sound went so far above and beyond my expectations…what an unbelievable festival. I’m even going to risk being disowned by my music-loving friends and say that, yes, I had more fun this weekend than I did at this year’s Ultra. I think it’s official. I know…I can hear your shocked gasps from here.

It’s something about being alone, I think. It’s just amazing in that context. Meeting new people, getting to dance however you want, being able to focus entirely on the music… It’s the Burning Man thing of being completely tuned in to what you want at any given moment,, and then doing it. Living totally for the now.

That strategy gave me a spectacular final day at Balaton. Words just…don’t even describe it. First, Armin Van Buuren at 9:30pm. Armin was his usual charming/amazing/perfect self. He’s always incredible, as are the crowds who come see him, although I do think I’ve heard him play stronger sets than that one. Oh well. Always happy to see him again. And I actually managed to hang out with Jon and Andrea, for a change! It didn’t last long, though, because they left for a bathroom break and I wasn’t about to leave Armin.

I felt a bit lost when his set ended…no new friends to hang out with, no clue who else was scheduled to spin. I decided my best bet was to float from stage to stage until something compelled me to stay. I danced at a pop-y stage for a while, followed by a dubstep-y stage, but nothing really held my attention.

I ended up in the big tent with a set by Nikola, who I’d never heard of. It was all right, but inconsistent. He’d play one or two songs I liked, then several more I found boring. I tried to go wandering again, but two boys immediately scooped me up and wanted to dance back in the tent. We accidentally got separated soon after entering (probably for the best, as they looked like the next in the long string of barely-legal boys who seemed to take a fancy to me at the festival), but I stuck around for the remainder of Nikola’s set.

It turned out to be a good choice, because the two sets that followed – Nicky Romero and Steve Angello – brought the house down. So incredible. I danced solidly through them both, way too lost in my own world of music and movement to think about anything else. Romero is another DJ I hadn’t heard of before, but I will definitely look into him. And Steve Angello I know well, because he’s 1/3 of Swedish HouseMafia. I’ve never seen the group live, or any of them solo, so I was psyched to finally have the chance. He opened with a favorite – Greyhound – so I knew the set was destined to go down in my personal musical history. It did not disappoint. Hopefully someone will upload it to YouTube later…

I still wasn’t ready to call it a night when Angello finished (and the next DJ sounded promising), but it was after 5am and we had to check out of the hotel at 10am. Besides, I’d been dancing solidly since 9:30pm, and I mean that literally – no sitting down, no bathroom breaks, no food, no drinks. I danced for 8 solid hours, stopping only to walk in between stages.

So I returned, once again, with a huge smile on my face and energy radiating from every pore. Jon and Andrea were already in bed (3/4 times I managed to party harder than the supposed party animals!! TAKE THAT!), so I quietly made my way to bed too.

What a perfect weekend. J

“Travel does what good novelists also do to the life of everyday, placing it like a picture in a frame or a gem in its setting, so that the intrinsic qualities are made more clear. Travel does this with the very stuff that everyday life is made of, giving to it the sharp contour and meaning of art.”
–Freya Stark, Riding to the Tigris (1959)

Balaton: 7.15.12

I am currently indulging in one of my favorite activities: hotel breakfast. Neither of the other two got up in time, so not only is it an opportunity for free food, it’s also an opportunity for blissful silence! I think those two are way more into each other than they’re willing to admit…it’s quite cute. I like the odd couple they make.

Did I mention that I’m eating French toast and that it’s awesome? Apparently making French toast in Hungary means slicing up actual French bread and deep frying it. Throw some Nutella and jam on it, and ugh…my arteries hate me, but it’s delicious!

There isn’t much to report from last night. Same deal as usual: Jon and Andrea left, I used the silence to work and went later. It was pouring buckets, and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the work I had to do, so I kept my visit short (Dubfire & some Carl Cox) and then came home. It turned out to be a good call – I got a sizeable chunk of work done.

I guess I’ll have to go for broke tonight… ;)

Balaton: 7.14.12 (Part II)

Day Two of Balaton Sound proved to be just as awesome as Day One. Again, I stayed behind to work while Jon and Andrea went a-festivaling. And again, it proved to be a good decision. I arrived just in time for Gareth Emery's set, after being stopped on the street several times by people who were curious about me. It was a good set, but not as good as Solveig's (which, I should mention, Jon and Andrea apparently missed out on, because they had already gone to bed!). Here's a set by Gareth, to get a feeling for his style. It's not the set he played at Balaton, but it is a set I was in the audience for: ASOT 550, at this year's Ultra Music Festival.

Anyway...

The company proved to be the most exciting part of Balaton Day Two, as it had for Balaton Day One. For a while I floated, then settled down with two guys from the Czech Republic for a bit. One gave me a glowstick, and the other traded my sunglasses for his fedora...everyone knows I'm a sucker for a good hat!

We danced for a while and they did their best to flirt with me, but soon enough it was time for me to wander on in search of new foreign friends. We exchanged contact info and then I danced off, looking for a new group of temporary companions. I spent a bit of time dancing with some girls - and a small stuffed elephant - who I think were British, but we never really spoke so it was hard to tell.  At some point I even caught a glimpse of Jon and Andrea, but decided not to join them. I was having fun on my own, and she's only here for a week so I want them to have as much time together as possible. I think they make quite a cute pair. :)

When Gareth finished Sander Van Doorn went on, and gave us another great set. He was playing a remix of "Somebody That I Used To Know" when a guy nearby and I sang the chorus to each other. It was obvious that we both speak English, so we started talking. He was there with 3 friends, all from London and all currently in the midst of riding motorcycles across Europe. Believe it or not, that's actually the second time in my life I've befriended someone who was motorbiking across Europe! I must give off some kind of secret signal that attracts all the awesome travelers to me...

I ended up spending the rest of the night hanging out with them, and they turned out to be tons of fun. Highlight of the night: being told that I out-Englished them, for my vast knowledge of British television. Finally, 24 years of insane Anglophilia have paid off!! I have never felt more accomplished.

Balaton: 7.14.12

I am loving this festival. When I'm through with it, Balaton Sound will have no idea what hit it. But I’m getting ahead of myself…where did I leave off? Ah yes, the hotel…

Well…it’s been nice living just up the street from the festival, but I still think Andrea made the wrong call by booking it. To her credit, she paid for the first two nights, because she knew it was an unpopular decision. And Jon paid for the other two, I think because he felt a bit responsible as she’s his friend.

The festival, on the other hand, has been amazing. Totally makes up for any frustrating moments we had in the beginning. On both days so far, I’ve sent Jon and Andrea out first…that way I get a little bit of treasured alone time and some peace and quiet in which to work. Because man, is it loud when they’re around. Music is always blasting. They’re always play-fighting. Andrea keeps interrupting my work because she doesn’t yet understand that headphones + computer = hard at work, please do not disturb. It’s roughly the freelancer equivalent of the sign for housekeeping on a hotel door.

That’s been a tad annoying, but it means I’ve been going to the festival alone and oh my God…I love it. It’s been so much fun flying solo! Why has it taken me 24 years to do this?!

On the first night, I was adopted by a group of Hungarians – Katie, András, Mathiász– on the street while I was walking to the event. They were shocked, and ecstatic, that I’m from New York, which is the reaction everyone here has been giving me. I’d forgotten how much I adore being a foreigner!

Their English was passable (except for Mathiász who only seemed to know a select few words, all of which I cannot post on a family blog), so we hung out for a while together. They taught me how to say “Put your hands up in the air!” (useful at a concert) and “What’s up, man?” in Hungarian. The rest of my limited Hungarian proved to be a big hit, even though it’s frightfully inadequate. It got big smiles whenever I attempted to speak it.

Eventually Katie and Mathiász, who insisted on hitting on me despite being 20 years old, got separated from András and I. And Matthias was wearing my sunglasses…rats! András and I tried to find them, but had to give up and continue on our way. We stopped at a tent with one of the larger stages, and he bought me a beer. Always love it when people who aren’t flirting with you are still kind enough to buy you a drink!

We were standing outside talking when, out of nowhere, Jon and Andrea popped up behind me and started commenting on my bracelets. They looked so surprised when I turned around and they realized who they were talking to!

They didn’t stay long, though, which was kinda lame, but *shrug* I had new friends already, and plenty more new friends to meet. The night turned out to be awesome, and I don’t think it would have been nearly as awesome if I’d stuck with them. I rarely feel like a 3^rd wheel, with any of my friends, but it sounded like way more fun to become everyone’s new BFF because I’m from New York!

I wandered the festival on my own for a long time, chasing whatever music sounded good to me at the moment and meeting tons of new people. I hung out with one Hungarian guy and his girlfriend for a while, but I think she got upset that he was so interested in talking to me about writing. At one point she just dragged him off in another direction! Whoops.

Then I hung out with a couple of Italian boys for a while, then another Hungarian. I love being a wanderer…get adopted by a group, make new friends, hang out for a while, then exchange contact info and move on to the next group! Wash, rinse, repeat. For someone as social as I am, there’s no greater fun.

I think a lot of the attention has to do with how I’m dressed. No one here gets dressed up for electronic music, apparently! Meanwhile I’m in day-glo colors and decked out in kandi bracelets and glitter…I clearly stand out. I <3 it here very much.

The crowning glory of the evening was towards the end of the night. I was about to head home, but as I passed the big tent where I’d run into Jon and Andrea, the music sounded great…and the Burner in me said I had to check it out. Live for the moment, right?

It turned out to be the best decision of the day. Martin Solveig was spinning, and his set was awesome. [Not the same set, but a good one nonetheless: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8J3QsbyrMVQ&list=PL589F35D9880F0B7E&index=1&feature=plpp_video] I danced my a** off. And then, towards the end, a very cute boy asked if I wanted to sit on his shoulders. It was an easy decision to make. J He was quite tall, so I had an amazing view, and he kept jumping up and down, which was slightly scary, but so much fun.

Needless to say, I went home with a big smile on my face.

Balaton: 7.12.12

This trip is already the hilarious misadventure that any Jon + Elyse trip should be. My failed attempt to travel into London clearly set the tone for the rest of this trip.

Let me fill you in...

I finally arrived in Hungary, 2 hours later than planned. It was about 2am when I made it to the hotel, so Jon and Andrea had already paid a visit to B City and Instant, two of our most-frequented bars in Budapest. They'd also managed to consume chicken sandwiches from the little shop that we adore, which I'm devastated to have missed out on!! We also all missed out on cheap caviar, which Jon had tried to find with no success. Oh well...he at least had tasty mozzarella waiting for me!

W spent the rest of the evening in, since we had to leave Budapest in the morning. We took a train from Budapest to Balaton (For those who don't know, we're here for Balaton Sound, a big electronic music festival on Lake Balaton) after a stop at Kiado, our favorite restaurant in the city, for breakfast. It's always good to be back at Kiado, although the basement area was closed for renovations so it didn't quite feel like home. The train ride was an unenventful 2 hours, occupied with sleeping and beginning a new John Irving novel. Yay for my new Kindle!

Upon arrival, we had, as is often the case when we travel, 0 plans. Our afternoon can be summed up in one word: wandering. We were homeless for, quite literally, hours. I believe it was around 5:15-5:30 when we arrived and it is only now, at 9pm, that I'm able to write to you from a hotel room. EVERYWHERE was booked. Which I can't say was unexpected, since there's a music festival. It all would have been fine, except that Andrea is not used to traveling like that. She was clearly getting upset and frustrated with our lack of planning. Jon and I should probably learn our lesson about bringing other people on our travels...we travel in a very unique way, and it's definitely not right for a lot of people!

We stopped for food because Andrea was starving, then Jon left us with the baggage and continued on the search for accommodations. The girls passed the time gabbing on the shores of Lake Balaton - which is HUGE! It's so enormous that you cant even see all the edges, just water meeting sky. It's like staring out at the ocean. And I thought Almanor seemed big last week...

When Jon returned, he had nothing good to report. Nowhere had rooms, in the whole town. Our options were: hotel in a nearby town, rent an RV, rent a tent. I definitely did not want the RV, as it seemed like the most likely to be expensive, and because old prejudices die hard. I am not an RV person! Andrea, on the other hand, was most in favor of the RV. I think Jon and I both liked the idea of the farther-away-hotel. He suggested finding wifi to look into all our options. Andrea was vehemently against the idea, saying we should just go to the event and ask about tents/RVs because she was tired of carrying around her stuff and tired of walking. I thought that was a bad idea, but I didn't feel like arguing with someone who as already cranky. I was perfectly happy just to be on the road again!

Sure enough, when we asked at the festival, they said they had no more space for RVs and no more tents. Nearby hotel it is, we figured. We wandered until we found a place with wifi, then settled in to review our options. Andrea decided to continue on in hopes of dining something. Jon and I found several possible options at decent rates, and awaited Andrea's return.

When she came back, she made the announcement: she'd booked us at the expensive hotel in town because she "didn't know what else to do." Bad call. Now the two people who weren't cranky became cranky! It's $175/night! When you're traveling with other people, you don't get to make decisions for the group. It just doesn't work like that. But it was too late to change, and at least we had a home. The room is nice, on the plus side, although there's something I actually kind of love about staying in awful hotels...

London: 7.11.12

Wow, it's been a year since I last posted in this blog! And I failed so spectacularly to finish recording that trip... I feel a renewed sense of interest in chronicaling my journies this time around, so hopefully things will be better...

I'm currently coming to you from Heathrow, in the midst of a very long and frustrating layover. The flight here was lovely - thanks to a British Airways 747 and Jon, who supplied me with the ticket - and uneventful. I entertained myself with screenings of Young Adult, which was less funny than I thought it would be, and Wanderlust, which I loved. I feel like I've met every single character from the Elysium commune in the film in real life. I think I nearly died when they explained that the preferred term is "intentional community," rather than commune. The whole film had "pretentious Burner" written all over it, and I loved every minute. Anyone who wants to see a funny slice of Playa life should definitely check it out.

The remainder of the flight was devoted to sleep, with a short interlude for a surprisingly tasty curried chicken dinner. You'd think "airline food" + "British food" would add up to disaster, but it was actually one of the better in-flight meals of recent memory.

My layover in London was supposed to be equally memorable, but alas - the gods of travel do not seem to be on my side here at LHR. My original plan for my 6+ hour layover was as follows:

1. Take a train from LHR to Paddington.
2. Take the tube from Paddington to Sloane Square.
3. Walk to 16 (now 34) Tite Street, where Oscar Wilde lived.
4. Walk to the Cadogan Hotel, where he was arrested.
5. Stroll down the Serpentine through Hyde Park.
6. Arrive at St. James's, where Wilde was married.
7. Take the train from Paddington back to LHR.

I had plenty of time to accomplish it all - and probably more - and it was PERFECT. But then my flight was a bit delayed. And then customs took over an hour. And then the terminal for my 2nd flight changed. By the time I was ready to store my baggage and depart, I would have only had an hour in the city. It just didn't seem like the smart bet. Of course, once I'd passed through security at the new terminal, I found out my flight is delayed at least an hour, so I could have gone after all! I guess the next leg of my Oscar Wilde pilgrimmages will have to wait...