What dreams may come

This blog was created with the intention of detailing my tour of Europe in 2009, however it seems the wanderlust has taken hold of me again. From my adventures through India and Eastern Asia to road-tripping down to Disneyland, there is a lot of traveling that has the potential to be detailed here.

Given my current status as a semi-employed recent college graduate, my travel opportunities have dwindled significantly. Hopefully this will be remedied upon getting a full-time job that pays enough to have some disposable income for traveling, but considering how many rejections I get on a daily basis, that could take a while. Even so, it does no one any good to give up on the things we strive to obtain, so I'm going to put together some Fantasy Travel Itineraries and hope that one day I will be able enough, both physically and financially, to carry them out. In addition to my dream getaways, I will go over some past adventures that went unrecorded to make sure the details aren't lost forever.

Not Plain Spain

I had an entire blog written out about my experience in Granada, and right when I hit "publish post" the internet died. So it goes. I will still give you the abbreviated version, but with more cats included.

Granada was the best place to go to after my negative experience in Madrid. It was clean, organized, smallish, with many touristy things to do. The hostel was also great; it was run and populated by young, active people, and set in a central location to the all the attractions and nearby local supermarkets. The hostel offered everything we could have wanted: tasty, traditional Spanish dinners for 4 euro, an exclusive hot springs tour, a communal kitchen, free internet, and they do your laundry for you for a low price. We met a ton of people there, all Canadian and Australian, and I may see one of the Australian girls when she comes to San Francisco next year. Meeting people is certainly one of my favorite parts of traveling.

As for Granada itself, it is a truly Spanish city. People take their siestas and Sundays very seriously - the only things open during these times were the touristy souvenir shops, and even some of them were closed. It also has a history of Moorish influence, making it the first place I've been to with an Arabic style. We never made it to the Alhambra (no lectures please), but we did do the local hot springs tour, and it was worth every cent! Someone from the hostel drove us out about 12 km to a little pool in a dark field. At first we assumed we were going to be murdered a la Hostel, but we just ended up relaxing in a perfectly temperatured little pool. A lot of locals with their with their children and dogs, and for the first time in weeks, I saw the sky full of stars. It was awesome. On the ride over I was asking our driver (in Spanish!) if certain animals lived in the area, but he said it was only rabbits. And scorpions. But I think he was kidding about the scorpions.

We had a feline-filled experience in Granada, which of coursed served to enhance it. When Michael and I took our own little walking tour (we didn't wake up in time for the organized one) we saw the most adorable pile of kittens sitting between a small creek and an ancient wall. It was quite picturesque. At night there was a very stereotypical prowl of cats meowing at every door on the street, possibly begging for food or just being ridiculous cats. They seemed fat enough, so maybe I should assume they were just out causing trouble because they can.

After 12 hours of train travel, Michael and I have arrived in Valencia, Spain, the epicenter of our summer. In 2 days we will go to Bunyol for the famous Tomatina Festival. It is amazing how many people I've met this summer who are in this city right now. It's like some sort of pilgrimage for college-student-aged individuals. We are staying in a 3 star hotel, the nicest thing I have encountered all summer. The upside is the severe spike in quality, however at hostels you get to meet people and do stuff with them. Luckily, since Valencia is full of people just like us, we have already met a nice New Zealander named Patrick who is traveling alone and will come with us to the Tomatina to hurl tomatoes with us.

We will take the next day to rest. Our hotel has English channels. Right now we are watching Tom and Jerry, which is awesome because there are no words so it works everywhere. After Valencia we will head to Barcelona for 5 hours, then take a night train to Geneva, from which we will immediately leave to Interlaken for 3 days of extreme sportage. We are considering the option of canyoneering, or climbing and rappelling down waterfalls! It is either this or hangliding/parajumping/skydiving/bungee jumping. We will also hike a lot. Huzzah for traveling!

In apology for being scant with my pictures, here is a photo I took in the main Cathedral in Granada (the only other thing open) yesterday.

MADrid y GRANDada

I did not like Madrid. At first I was excited about how unreserved everyone seemed to be, but that gradually turned into me being disgusted by the not-so-subtle looks I was getting from dirty men. The city itself looks like it peaked in the late sixties or early seventies, and seems to have a problem cleaning up everything, from graffiti to trash. If you could find a bench not occupied by a sleeping homeless person, you would be forced to leave by the overwhelming scent of urine. The whole time I was there I fretted over washing my hands, and even stepped in dog poop. I have not been in a dirtier city in my entire life.

I am happy that I went there, to say I´ve been, but I can´t say I would ever return. Ignoring that I constantly felt like a bucket of grease, there wasn´t a whole lot to do. We did some of the suggested activities, like walking the not so Gran Via, eating tapas, and visiting the Don Quixote statue in Plaza de España. I was told Madrid was a big party place, but we decided not to go to clubs because even during the day we were constantly worried over our (well my) purses and back pockets.

We were going to go to Barcelona, but I decided that, because we are in Spain, we should visit the namesake of the street I lived on for 13 years, so now we are in the clean, beautiful, and friendly Granada, about 5 hours south of Madrid in the Andalucia region of Spain. There are tons of outdoor cafes, and the pleasant atmosphere makes the 100 degree heat much more tolerable, unlike Madrid´s dirty edifices. There is also plenty to do here. Today we walked down the shopping streets, visited a big Cathedral, and ate bocadillas at a cafe. Tomorrow we will go on a free walking tour in the Albaycin area of the city, a Moorish neighborhood that promises to be unique and intriguing. Tomorrow night we will go to a midnight hot spring soak under the stars. Our third and final day in Granada will be an early morning trip to the Alhambra, a huge fortress surrounded by abundant gardens. They only have 1000 tickets per day (smart people book online ahead of time) so we will rush up there so we can experience the jewel of Granada.

At first I disliked Spain, having only been in the dirty, hot, and sprawling Madrid, but now that I am in the moderately sized and well organized Granada, my mind is changing. Who knows how Valencia will make me feel!

Observations of Denmark

Even though I am frequently busy doing traveling stuff, I am going to make more of an effort to blog. I originally blamed my sudden lack of writing on the fact that I am out doing the aforementioned traveling stuff, but you, my audience, are largely made up of my friends and family who have been extremely generous in your emotional, mental, and financial support. Every so often I see a little more money in my bank account and I know a gracious family member is thinking of me. When Michael arrived in Europe he gave my sister and I wonderful letters from home that were also bearing gifts. I am extremely lucky to be part of such a generous and thoughtful family.

Now onto Denmark matters. As we all know, I set some very high expectation for this country, doing tremendous amounts of research on Danish people, businesses, and food. After spending roughly 5 weeks there (having taken that two week "vacation" around Europe), I feel like it would be interesting to list some of the things I learned from actually being there, rather than what I read off the internet.

Danish people are some of the nicest I've ever met, and the stereotype about them being difficult to crack open is only partially true. About half of the Danes I met initiated conversation, and the other half wouldn't even look at me if I spoke to them.

Danish food is very good, but it must be authentic. The homemade Danish dishes (as well as the non-Danish dishes) made by my host family were some of the best meals I have ever consumed. But finding restaurant food in the city is not as easy as say, in Paris, largely because Danish families almost always eat in, so there is not a huge market for take away food. Also I am used to giant American servings, but Danes eat a very healthy amount, so I was frequently surprised.

Copenhagen felt extremely safe to me, something I cannot say about Madrid. It was as dirty as any other city, something which I did not expect, however they have a wonderful train accessory: All of the seat groupings (usually 2-4 seats) have small bags hanging from the side where you can deposit your trash, so the trains stay very clean. I have not seen this in any other city or local train.

I am happy that my abroad experience was in Denmark, but unless the weather is always like it was this summer, I can´t say that I would move there. Plus they don´t have New York OR Chicago style pizza there, and I don´t think I could live without that. And my family. Them too.

Churros y chocolate

I feel like so many of my blogs begin with my apologizing for not blogging, so let's just assume from this point on that if I don't make posts for an inappropriately large amount of time, I am so sorry.

Now that that is taken care of, I will let you know what has occurred over the past few blogless days:

1) Michael finished LSE, and came to visit me in Denmark
2) Had a tearful goodbye with my host family this morning (8/17)
3) Flew to Madrid with Michael, settled into the Panizo Hostel right in the center of the city

It is very hot here in Madrid, but Michael and I have a lovely hostel room on the third floor (technically fourth, but the first floor is called the ground floor and the second is called the first, and so on) and it has a fan, a TV, a balcony, and no roommates! This is my first hostel experience where I don't spend the night with strangers. Michael is very impressed by the quality of this establishment, and I am excited to see how he considers multiple-bed dorm setups that we will inevitably inhabit in the near future.

Being in Madrid is also great because it has given me the opportunity to try out my 6 years of now rusty Spanish, and I have noticed that the more I speak, the more I remember. The last Spanish class I took was in the fall of my freshman year, so two years ago, and the loss of Spanish words from my vocabulary has been a genuine concern for me since the class ended. I sort of purposely chose a hostel where I knew the proprietor spoke no English, and because of this, I get to speak my second language. And I am much better at it than I remember. Woohoo!

Soon I will regale you all with my experience in Denmark, since it has concluded, but right now Michael is making his "yo quiero paella" face and I must agree. Dinnertime!

My Constant

I'm no poet so I won't subject you to a true ode, however I feel my backpack deserves a certain amount of praise, so it will be done in a medium in which I am more comfortable, namely, writing.

I (my family) bought this Lowe Alpine backpack in 2003, when I was a mere 13 years old. I was signed up for a backcountry backpacking trip through Canada with a teen outdoors group called Adventures Cross Country. My only mountainous experience was that of hiking the glorified hill that lived behind my house, so needless to say, I was scared of this trip. But I had my backpack, all 60 pounds of it when it was filled. When the trip came to its conclusion, I went back home with my only friend stuffed down in the cargo hold of that 747. Even though I was a pain and kind of mean to everybody and therefore unable to make friends, my backpack always looked the other way and forgave me, despite my bad attitude.

When I was able to reflect on my trip to Canada I was also able to get over myself, and go on a trip to Southern Europe the following summer, carrying with me the same red and black acquaintaince that had kept me company in Canada. Sometimes I had a love/hate relationship with the thing; when the straps became frayed or it pulled me back towards the shark's teeth rocks at the bottom of a gulley while I clutched the side of a slick cliff I wanted to toss the sack of cloth, but when I realized it could help me carry around a month's worth of supplies with minimal effort, I truly loved it.

My backpack still smells of the trail mix and pine needles of that first summer in Canada, even as I use it for the fourth time while going through Europe, and I find it comforting. Even though some straps are broken and there is a lock on the shoulder whose combination I can't seem to recall and crown-like day bag has mysteriously disappeared, I still consider it like a friend to me. Now that I am using the backpack while I travel alone, our relationship has really been taken to the next level. On my previous trips I was able to rely on other teenagers for companionship, but now I find myself snuggling into my backpack as it's many straps give me a hug, desperate for some kind of physical contact. When I pull it down from the overhead storage of a train car and clasp the arms underneath my throat and around my hips, I feel at home in a constantly shifting environment.

I know this dynamic could easily change once I am joined by my boyfriend this Saturday, and I no longer need to look to an inanimate object for friendship, however I can still see myself silently rejoicing in the hug of my Lowe Alpine, the backpack that has accompanied me across the world without complaint, and has always been my constant.

Spotted Dick

Hello from London! Again.

I have nothing much to report about my travels, so I will delve into the linguistic world, which will be an interesting journey considering I am toying with the idea of making this subject into my new major.

Anywho, comparing British (proper?) English to American English has been one of the highlights of my trip. It amazes me how the two are truly individual dialects, rather than differently accented versions of the same language. Both groups use unique phrases and words, grammatical structures and inflections, even picking dissimilar ways to express an idea based on contextual social situations. I stupidly have not written down all the instances of these theories being proven which I have come across in the past 7 weeks of my travels, so I will try to do better from now on.

My favorite: Refering to an attractive female as "a nice bit of crumpet." The Brits can make even the most derrogatory of phrases into a sophisticated statement.

When I was in Holland, Denmark, Sweden, Italy, and France, I craved the English language. Even though most Europeans speak it, I constantly found myself simplifying or minimalizing my speech in order to accomodate my listener. After I made the impulsive decision to come to London, I was excited to be able to speak fluently and openly without having to strain my attention in an attempt to understand people. Unfortunately, dumbing down my communication has made England an exceptional challenge for me: I can't understand what people say , and I am slow to respond, which is exaggerated by the famous British Quick Wit.

Maybe I just need more time for my first language to feel like my own. My reflex responses have been a mixture of Danish, Spanish, and Italian, so I ask for my french fries to be "stor" in Italy, and beg "permiso" when walking through the Louvre. I have also developed the habit of copying peoples' accents in an effort to increase understanding, but it always comes out as a muddled mess of my native word swirled in with the English or Australian equivalent, turning Melbourne into Mehlbehrn.

For now all I can do is look forward to the remaining 6 weeks of my trip and try to speak as slowly and clearly as possible, and hopefully I will get my pommes frites grandes.

Firenze!

I like Italy. I can see why so many people come here to study abroad. A lot of people have classified Italy study-abroaders as young people only looking for easy booze and easy boys. While both of these things are in fact easy to find, I can't imagine they are the sole motivators for choosing this country. As I wandered around Florence today, I kept having to remind myself to breathe because I was so frequently awestruck by the sights around me. Classical buildings, hidden alleyways, marble statues on arching bridges across a green canal: what more could any traveler ask for?

Even though I love South America, I think I would still go to Italy if I were to ever legitimately study abroad. There is just so much history here, and in Florence alone! Italy can boast a huge array of scientific minds, artistic talent, and original food, even in comparison with the rest of Europe. Think of all the foods you love, and I bet some of it traces back here.

Speaking of food, the food and wine tour I took this morning was fabulous. Our guide, Paul, took us to the local San Lorenzo food market and gave us the history and production information for some of Italy's most important food, like prosciutto and olive oil. He made a wonderful connection with olive oil and the people who produce it: Northern Italians, like their environment, are more temperate and mild mannered, even delicate. Southern Italians, on the other hand, are spicy and full of energy, and sometimes abrasive, like their rocky environment. Middle Italians are, you guessed it, a balance between the two, and if you do a taste test of olive oils from these specific regions, you will find the comparisons to be accurate. According to Paul. But I trust him.

That is all for now - I am going to lounge around my (possibly) new favorite city for the next 4 days until I head to Paris to meet with my friend. For now I have to deal with the one hard part about hostels, and that is that fact that you make friends, and then they leave before you do. It is hard to do things alone. Sometimes meeting people can be made so much easier by just being with someone else, I think because you don't start off so insecure. I will work on it.

Oh yeah, here is my recently acquired ear piercing (sorry, Mom), for those of you who are curious.

La Dolce Vita

This will have to be a short post, due to a faulty and frustrating space bar. After 24 hours (exactly) of train rides, including an overnighter from Copenhagen to Munich, and a late train from Munich to Bologna, I have safely arrived in Firenze, Italy. Besides a missed train to Florence, the whole trip was pretty uneventful. Actually, I got my own compartment for most of the sleeper-train ride, which is cool.

Now I am in Italy, and I have had a pizza. You can see the Duomo from the roof bar at my hostel, Plus Florence. The hostel is awesome because it has a pool. Tomorrow morning I am going on an Italian food and wine tour. Cheese and meat! Awesome.

My mom will hate me for this, but I am not going to Eastern Europe. Just Florence and Paris. I am visiting a friend in Paris. I just do not have it in me or my wallet to do Budapest and Prague. Not this trip anyway.

I am making friends, but I miss my boyfriend and my family worse than ever. I hope it goes away soon. Maybe Florence will knock the feeling out of me. Now off to bed!

Murphy's Law

I need to formally apologize for my lack of updates. The good news is I have been neglecting the blog out of sheer busy-ness and having most of my time occupied with things to do, but now that I am alone again, I can return to my old friend, the Internet. This blog entry is only one story out of an eventful week, but once I have finished getting all my pictures from the camera, I will do a more general post. For now, you get this.

My sister arrived on Saturday, my boyfriend on Monday. Monica decided to leave on Thursday to go to Amsterdam by night-train. When it came time to take her to the train station, we were impeded by a Classic Traveling Situation. We left about an hour and a half early, estimating 45 minutes of train riding from the house to the train station. Murphy's law states "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong," and this day proved that. The second we stepped onto the train I realized I needed to go to the bathroom. Badly. I won't go into further detail than that, but suffice it to say, I was experiencing a high degree of discomfort. But I knew Monica was stressing about her connection, so I refrained from saying anything on the matter, and of course the farther along the train got, the more intense my situation became. In the past 5 weeks that I've lived in Denmark, the train has always been smooth and efficient. Well not this day. When we came within 2 stops of Monica's destination, the train shuddered and stopped. Something was announced in Danish over the loudspeaker, but I couldn't understand it because it wasn't "pølser med ketchup." When I asked the 8 other people in our car what the announcement said, they all shrugged their shoulders and looked confused. Jackasses. In a few minutes the train picked up again, however my situation was only getting worse. And then the train stopped again, in a tunnel. I began pacing up and down the train cars, feigning claustrophobia with heavy breathing. After what seemed like a least 30 hours, the train began crawling again, and eventually pulled into the station before Monica's. I told her I would meet her at the next station, and flew out of there looking for a toilet.

As you can imagine, in such an urgent situation, there was no immediate relief. With no restroom at the station, I left, looking for a restaurant, bar, hotel, anything. I found a hotel and raced downstairs to the bathroom. Women's door was locked. Ran to the men's. Locked. Raced back up the stairs and down the street, not even realizing it had begun to rain. I checked my phone: 25 minutes until Monica's train departs. I found a restaurant. The host approached me and I asked if he had a bathroom, obviously under some stress. He slowly said no, the restaurant did not have a bathroom. I almost yelled in disbelief. He then stated that the hotel next door had a bathroom, and pointed in the correct direction. At last.

After that debacle, I raced down the street to København H, the main train station and as such, the location of Monica's Amsterdam train. Luckily the station I got off at was only about 200 meters from København H, so it was very little leg work to get there. As it happened, after I got off the train it ceased to run entirely, and Michael had to usher Monica to København H on foot. They luckily arrived with 20 minutes to spare for her, but I wanted to say goodbye, and arrived with only 10 minutes before the train's departure. Of course her car was the very last one on the train, so I was running through the rain to meet her. But I was able to make a proper farewell, and she arrived safely in Amsterdam 15 hours later.

I think everyone has a story like this while traveling, where everything just seems to get worse and worse. After Monica got on her train, the whole situation became humorous, although I would rather not experience it again. All's well that end's well, eh?

Better late than never

I apologize for my lack of updates in the past few days. A lot has been going on here, most importantly being joined by my sister (on Saturday) and my boyfriend (yesterday) in Copenhagen. After my sister arrived, we spent our time watching TV and searching the city for McDonalds. While this sounds like a pretty crappy way to spend a possibly once-in-a-lifetime vacation, it really suited us at the time, and isn't independence all about making choices for oneself? Actually we did go out yesterday but it rained so hard all we could do was stand under an awning and reminisce about California.

Michael (my bf) arrived late last night, so we pretty much just went straight home. Today we went down a few train stations with the intention of going to the Experimentarium, but instead wandered around Tuborg Havn (harbor) looking at the boats, Ferraris and the reason for the name of the harbor:

Giant beer bottles standing out on the shore. Pretty awesome. When I yelled "Look, giant beer bottles!" my boyfriend claimed I was smoking drugs.

We also ate delicious pad thai at a thai/sushi restaurant, and then groaned at the lightness of our wallets. But it was certainly fun, and nice to eat food that wasn't unfrozen first.

Another important occurence is my decision to leave Denmark 3 weeks early to travel to Italy and Greece. I still haven't figured out how to tell my hosts/work but I also really, really want to make this trip. I feel bad because even though the au pair is at this house, I am sort of in charge of the dog while my hosts are in Sicily, and I would be leaving 6 days before they return. But to not go to the Mediterranean because of a dog that someone else can technically watch? Seems silly. But still, my qualms remain. It is so hard to make choices!!

England!

Hello all! I have safely made it to Europe! In the spirit of adventure, I decided NOT to go to Athens. While some of you may think I'm crazy, the truth is I didn't want my trip to be so planned out, so I just didn't board the plane. I exchanged some Euros for pounds, hopped on the underground, was so tired that I got off on whatever station I felt (Piccadilly Circus in this case) and asked all the shops for a good hotel. Luckily I happened by a student travel center, and they gave me the information for the Piccadilly Backpackers Hostel. It has all been a crazy experience, probably pretty risky, but I'm enjoying myself so much.

Most of my life I have been driven toward structure, experiencing fun spontanaeity only when my mom initiates it. I have never really given myself the freedom to be free, to make decisions at a moments notice and do whatever I feel I want to. It is an amazing feeling, and I am so happy I gave myself the opportunity to experience it on my own terms.

And of course, the plane rides were not without their adventures. On my flight to NY, which was delayed by almost an hour, I was sitting in front of the loudest, most drunken Southerners who couldn't speak without yelling. And their topuics of conversation were largely about pistols, hunting, and wives. There is nothing wrong with the people or their conversations, but after 5 hours of listening to it, it gets old. With a 45 hour layover inbetween NY and London, I didn't think I was going to make it. I called up my family friend Diane (she's like a second mother to me) as she was working in New York at the time, and I called her up and she invited me to stay with her, but I ended up making my flight to London. I didn't sleep at all on the way to London, but the guy next to me did, and he is a very gassy sleeper.

I got to London and the whole weight of the situation hit me - I am a 19 year old girl alone in a massive city in a strange foreign country (albeit one that speaks the same language as me). But after sleeping for 5 hours I feel A LOT better. I hate that I can't sleep on planes.

So tomorrow the plan is - there is no plan! I may stay here another night, as it is quite charming, or I may head over to France and up to Bruges to stay there for a few days, because why not? Maybe stop in Hamburg too. I have time.

Oh, the places you'll go...

My family has always made it clear that traveling the world and experiencing new cultures are critical (and privileged) aspects of coming to know myself better. Here is a list of the places I have been so far.


In 2003, once I hit the awful age of 13, my parents sent me to British Columbia, Canada for a month long hardcore backpacking trip with a travel group for teenagers interested in outdoor activities. Only a few of my pictures are digital and none include me, but I have to say this trip was the hardest and most rewarding thing I have ever done.



Here is me (the one in blue three people from the right) and a couple friends in the European Alps while backpacking in 2004. This trip was really fun! We went through Italy, France, and Switzerland, and I have wanted to return to Europe ever since. Adventures Cross Country (ARCC) leads truly amazing trips, and I would highly recommend sending your teenager with them.




Here I am at the Trevi Fountain in Rome. I loved Rome. The gelato was too amazing. TOO AMAZING! It's a bummer I'm not returning there this summer (please don't judge me). The banner for this blog is a picture of me and a friend kayaking around the Italian island of Elba. So yeah.






Here I am in 2005 in Argentina with a horse I rode. In Argentina I stayed in a place called Villa del Totoral near Cordoba, another major city in the country. I stayed with an uncle for about a month and got to know the real culture of the area. It was a very wonderful place to be, and no food in the world could or will ever be able to match it.



There are a million and one photos I would love to use to describe my trip to Ecuador in 2006, but this one will have to suffice (also my profile picture is of me and a blue-footed boobie of the Galapagos so that works, too). Ecuador was amazing - if you want a good example of people who are happy with nothing then go there. The wildlife was also spectacular, and if you go to the Galapagos you will see why Darwin was so inspired.



When I was in 5th grade I went to Costa Rica with my dad and sister, but I very sadly do not have any pictures from there. Also in 8th grade my Grandma took me to New Zealand but once again I have no digitized photos :(
So my list of places traveled to is:
- Costa Rica
- New Zealand
- Canada (the backcountry and the cities)
- France
- Italy
- Switzerland
- Argentina
- Ecuador
- and USA! USA! haha

I'm super excited to add to that list this summer!

Hostel Hell

I kinda just realized that after my trip is over, the title to this blog is too limiting to write about my day to day doings. OR perhaps my dedication to maintaining the nature of this blog will force me to continue my travels. I'm alright with that.

Anywho I have been having quite the time researching European hostels. So far the only place I have actually booked a place to stay is in Athens called the Athens Backpackers Hostel. It is has a roof bar; here is the view! Yup - that's the Acropolis of Ancient Greece just SITTING right there! That's nuts. I'm so excited. I get the feeling I will be saying that a lot.

But finding this hostel was no easy task. I spent days looking at websites like www.hostels.com and www.hostelworld.com to find general ratings, but the website that helped the most was Trip Advisor. While the prior two websites were descriptions of the hostels written by the people who work for the hostels, the latter has really useful examples of why each place is good or bad (usually involves cockroaches).

Of course I could have gone the easy route and ask people who have actually been to Greece where they stayed. As it turns out, my friend Sabrina stayed in this same hostel when she visited Athens after high school, and she loved it, and confirms that it is entirely devoid of cockroaches. Also, as you can tell from the picture above, it is really close to the Acropolis! It was a little more expensive than some of the other places I looked into, but $15 more a night is worth it to not have to worry about cockroaches. Also, I figure since I will have been on a plane for more about 24 hours, I figure I will deserve a safe, clean place to stay while I try to convince myself that flying across the world to a strange, foreign country is not a mistake.