Bjästa, Not Pasta

When I visited my cousin, I also got some time to go and visit the neighbouring town he technically resides in.

There wasn't much going on in this small town, so I largely had to make my own fun. This started by waving hi to everybody that I saw who waved back and smiled as well, and turn on long walks in the snowy Tundra of Northern Sweden.

The only thing really to do in town was to go to the local church and nearby grounds. The modern church was built in the 1800s, they old one-room church building behind that was built in the fifteenth century, and the stone bruise behind that were from the 11th century. They were beautiful, and made the crazy weather worth it.

Going to ICA, the local market, was definitely worth it when I found pepper nut flavored dates and Swedish cinnamon rolls. There was lots of good food to be found there. Right next door to this was Sybilla, the Swedish fast food restaurant, where they nice servers gave me free French fries.

Aside from this, there wasn't much to do in the town. Seeing my cousin was the highlight of this journey, but I know I’ll be back to see the nearby Viking exhibitions.

A Scandinavian Winter

My cousin's cabin was about as rustic as you could get, with no running water and no electricity. We have to get extremely creative for sources of water andlLighting in the dark. It was a one-room cabin, with the bed Lofts being just above the kitchen.

In spite of this, I actually slept better in the cabin one night than I did in his girlfriend's apartment. But also made it worth it was seeing the mountains covered in snow, the beautiful Forest, is large Swedish goat farm. Another thing that made it work it was meeting by two young cousins, Aldo and Yrsa, and going to school with them the next two days.

When I wasn't bustling around town, I would nearly fall on my face trying to bike up the Frozen Swedish roads, get nibbled on when trying to sheep herd, and almost get knocked out by Falling spruce trees that we were cutting down for bedding for the Sheep (and firewood to keep ourselves warm). The mountain lake and all of the beautiful English-speaking people definitely made this trip worth it, and I will definitely be back in warmer weather.

Stocking Up

After an intense semester of coursework, before going home to America, I got to spend some time in Stockholm.  The city got its name because of its foundations, one fisherman came here and started stocking up water in the mid-1200s. A lot of great design, artwork, and technology also came out of this part of the world.

And all I can say is, for an originally Roman Catholic city marred by bloodshed and plague, what it has become now with its 30,000 islands is a true testament to its beauty.

My first grievance comes in the fact that tickets from Arlanda Airport to Stockholm Central are $46 by bus, one way only.

When I went to Galma Stan, I saw Hare Krishna monks chanting in the street. I also saw Glögg (mulled liqueur) for the first time, ate a Pressbyrån sandwich, and saw the Riggarskyrken, the most iconic church in Sweden.

Following this, I made small talk over coffee, added drumsticks to my Hard Rock Cafe drumsticks collection, and saw dozens of people ice skating to blasting 80s music in the center of Odenplan.

Upon my return, I checked out a few museums, bought some stuff in Swedish, I trust myself that I knew Swedish, and then returns to the place I was going to stay that night through Couchsurfing. There was also a cute little Christmas tree in the center of town.

Needless to say, Stockholm is definitely a town worth seeing. Whenever you get the chance, try to find your way there, no matter the season. There's something there for everybody at every time of the year.

The Birthplace of Democracy

In 1215, an ageing King John came to the low marshy lands of Runnymede to make peace with rebel barons, reacquaint with his lost land, and negotiated freedom throughout the ages. The charter signed on this day would, without the intention at the time, free people internationally of tyranny forevermore. This document will be cut down later officially as the Magna Carta.

King John thought that after his death in 1916, when his land and liberty was transferred to his nine-year-old son, that the legacy it will be lost forever.800 years later, this couldnt be further from the truth.  Back in 1957, a section of state land in Egham, the land between Staines and Windsor, was dedicated to the cause. 

I took the bus down to the area, and shortly afterwards, set out for the art exhibits in the monuments. The first stop on the list was “The jurors”, a set of 12 chairs that had copper inscriptions of influential moments of history into people that were affirmed or protected under the Magna Carta. This powerful piece detailed things such as immigration, ecosystem and ability, gay rights, Nelson Mandela's trial, women's rights in India, and more.

And then, I came upon the John F. Kennedy memorial, with a short walk to reflect upon things that he had done for both America and the world. At the top, a quote on his inaugural address was inscribed on the stone, with an American scarlet oak hiding behind the monument to symbolise the protection from harm done just now it was dedicated to America in 1980s.

After another short walk through the woods, I arrived at the Magna Carta monument, they pinnacle of Runnymede. This monument was commissioned in 1957 to commemorate the examples of religious freedom and justice has brought the world ever since. 8 English oak trees line the area, which represent eight principles of the magna carta. Additional trees were planted later, with one coming from the Prime Minister of India 50 years after its liberation from British rule.

Written in Water Is a poetic piece in the middle of a stone circle, where clause 39 Is edged in stone upside down and backwards so that the reflection reads normally upon the water. Inspiration for this artwork arose from the fact that King John for his idea would be transient like water, and that his ideas would be lost after his death. I contemplated this piece, and then moved onwards for the last bit of this adventure.

At last, after an uphill hike through the woods, I came to the Air Forces Memorial. This Memorial was installed to remember all of the individuals that got lost or killed during WWII and have no marked grave.

If you ever find yourself taking a short day trip outside of London, and if you like history and democracy, definitely pay a visit to Runnymede. For an outdoor enthusiast like myself, it's one of the world's finest.

The town of fairy tales

Although I had to wake up around 5:30, before the sun rose, my day was quickly made worth it.

First I stopped in Antwerp. This fairy-tale place had so many beautiful sights, such as Het Steen and Groenplaats. I had my first bubbly waffle here, bantered with a bus driver for being too difficult to understand, and then headed off to Bruges.

Almost immediately as I steeped off the bus at Bruges bargeplein and headed into Minnewaterpark, and passed the Sahsuis and Begijnhuise, I was blown away by the sheer beauty of this capitalised-upon fairytale town. A further walk put me by Godshuis, the Bonifacus bridge, and the Groeningemuseum. The more I wandered through this beautiful little town, the more I fell in love.

After this, 

Sint-johnshospitaal

Archaeologiemuseum

Silt-salvatorskathedraal

Boottochen brugge

As my phone approached death, i asked a random shopkeep for directions to Le Trappiste, a dungeon-style bar with surprisingly few English speakers and astonishingly strong trappist beer. The bartenders charged my phone in the back of the restaurant for me as I happily sipped away.

De Halv Maan-  Since 2010 bottling is done elsewhere, but the wort is still fermented here since 1856. 6 generations later, they are still piping out (literally) 20,000 litres of beer, 5 days a week.

I was on my way to see the beautiful Basilica of the Holy Blood and the Arenthuis when my phone battery life ran out. As I chatted with my airbnb host to inform her of this mishap, Inpassed by the

Frietmuseum (the french fry museum),

Belfort van brugge (the belltower), and Provincaal Hof. 

I met my Airbnb host and her daughter later that night, after very confusedly figuring out the Dutch bus system. Her daughter, who had a developmental delay, was the biggest sweetheart I ever met. And so, after collapsing for a solid nine hours, I woke up, had some continental breakfast, a lovely conversation, and I was dropped off at the train station in Brugge to explore a bit more and take the bus home.

I decided I would finally get my first real Belgian waffle, and much to my amazement, everybody in the stores boat three languages fluently - English, Flemish Dutch, and French.

 When I went to buy souvenirs, The shopkeepers on my bankcard from the UK and we talked about how he lived there for five years studying at Hall college and visiting Cambridge College. I told him some of the better part of America to visit, and we had a beautiful conversation.

I then visited Burg and Markt to listen to some songs as performed by the Belfry of Bruges. Played several songs from musicals like Phantom of the Opera in the bells of Notre Dame, complete with key changes.

After a beautiful two days in Belgium, I took a five hour bus ride back to London, experiencing the Eurotunnel and meeting a new Dutch friend in the process.

Stay tuned for more travels!