Couple of Crumbs

Hi! Welcome to our little blog, run by two old friends who just want to have a place to write... anything we please. Thanks for stopping by!

Funfetti is trying to defy the evils of writer's block one project at a time.

Red Velvet is a quirky little cupcake trying to channel her inner writer.

Summer Lovin’: One Girl. Four Countries. Twenty-Five Days. (Part 5)

”Fight the future” is a shy cupcake who lives in her own little world. A pop culture geek, lover of languages and different cultures, and professional daydreamer, her mind usually takes her to mind-blowing places. She is fearless. If she sets her heart on something, she knows she will get it… or that’s what she likes to believe. 

< Part 4 < Part 3 < Part 2 < Part 1

I always get depressed after a trip ends but, when I got on the plane, something had changed in me. I was satisfied with what I had accomplished and so proud of myself. All my hard work had paid off. Planning this trip took time and patience. It gave me lots of headaches and panic attacks. I wanted to quit many times, but the support of my family and friends got me through all of that. I went to Europe, danced along with great music, saw the sights and indulged in more treats than ever before. Most importantly, I did it on my own.

“Happiness is only real when shared”. Those words were stuck in my head after watching Sean Penn’s Into The Wild and they came back to haunt me several times during my trip. Whenever I had the chance, I would write an e-mail to my sister, my friends or my parents, depending on the nature of the comments I needed to get off my chest. Primarily, I wanted to let them know I was okay but also, I was afraid I would forget the details that make an anecdote fun to tell and I needed them to be my personal hard disk backup.

I’ll be completely honest: I would choose to endure all the pointless fights people get into when they have been traveling together for weeks — even starting to get tired of each other — without any complaints if that meant having someone with whom I can share a look or a laugh.

At London’s airport, I bought David Nicholls’ novel “One Day” and I was reading the first pages when I realized that the main characters were in their 20s waiting for their lives to begin. It felt like a cosmically designed coincidence.

So, whatever it is that I may desire for my future, I’m confident that I will at least try my best to get it, because it is those experiences that I will look back on one day and say ‘these are what make life worthwhile’.  Yes, I had to go to another continent to truly appreciate where I live (a place I know I’ll always return to), but that doesn’t mean I can’t be adventurous! Still, no matter what those other places have to offer: there’s really no place like home.

* * *

One Girl. Four Countries. Twenty-Five Days. is part of our Summer Series.

Summer Lovin’: One Girl. Four Countries. Twenty-Five Days. (Part 4)

”Fight the future” is a shy cupcake who lives in her own little world. A pop culture geek, lover of languages and different cultures, and professional daydreamer, her mind usually takes her to mind-blowing places. She is fearless. If she sets her heart on something, she knows she will get it… or that’s what she likes to believe.

< Part 3 < Part 2 < Part 1

I wanted to get a ticket for Billy Elliot the Musical. Usually I don’t like musicals, but this was based on a film I adore and it received really good reviews. It was the right choice. I was blown away with the quality of the play and the richness of the characters; the talented cast performed as if it were the last show of their lives. Little did I know that one month later I would find myself comparing the miners’ strike and the clashes with the police portrayed in the play - which occurred in 1984 – with the images of the riots sweeping the country. Our world has changed so radically!

On the only sunny summer day in London, I went to Hampton Court Palace. If you’ve seen Showtime’s The Tudors you may recognise Henry VIII’s residence from the show. I took the train, crossed the bridge and went to the ticket booth. I walked into the palace and was greeted by a group of actors who, every two or three hours, would be playing out a scene in the courtyard or halls as if they were the characters who lived there in its glory days.


After spending the next day at the British Museum and at the Imperial War Museum, I desperately needed to relax.  I wandered through the streets of Piccadilly’s Circus, Trafalgar Square and Leicester Square, and I already felt at home. Maybe it was because I learned so much about that particular city in my English classes when we covered British culture. I was assigned books set in those very streets and I studied European history later too.  I had never stayed long in such a diverse society, so I felt I could mind my own business and be left alone. Nobody knew who I was, where I came from, and they didn’t care. I felt I knew where I was going, as if I was walking with a purpose and not like any other tourist.


I was in London and I was free.

On my last day history came alive in a different way during my stop at the Tower of London.  I was under my umbrella, looking around in the pouring rain, as I entered the first tower and I was completely overwhelmed by what was in front of me. I could picture the prisoners held there waiting to die, turning to a higher power, searching for hope or salvation within those walls.  Their carvings in the stones, 500-year-old graffiti, are still legible as a testament of the horrors they endured.

Around five in the afternoon the gates were closing so I went to the other side of London, across the Thames. Once I crossed the London Bridge I got to see a different side of the city and my imagination traveled back in time.  I saw it as a place where artists, prostitutes and alcoholics used to be  accepted.  A place where the dark tunnels and alleys reminded me of something I might have read in crime stories.  (Not all that scary in the daylight, but quite mysterious indeed!)

Later, I arrived at the Globe Theatre — I couldn’t leave without setting foot in that place! I loved listening to behind-the-scene stories of how productions happen today and how it was back then, in Elizabethan times. Then, I crossed the Millenium Bridge (a scene from Harry Potter came to mind!) and there, without even trying, I had found the most perfect view of London — St. Paul’s Cathedral.

My trip was now complete. I had gone to all the museums; I had been to all the landmarks and I had managed to make time to sit back and enjoy what was happening around me. It was time to say good-bye, pack my bags and return home.


… tune in tomorrow for Fight the future’s final reflections.

* * *

One Girl. Four Countries. Twenty-Five Days. is part of our Summer Series.

Summer Lovin’: One Girl. Four Countries. Twenty-Five Days. (Part 3)

”Fight the future” is a shy cupcake who lives in her own little world. A pop culture geek, lover of languages and different cultures, and professional daydreamer, her mind usually takes her to mind-blowing places. She is fearless. If she sets her heart on something, she knows she will get it… or that’s what she likes to believe.

< Part 2 < Part 1 

My days in Paris were more or less planned out, but sometimes I would put the map back in my bag and wander the streets and the promenade along the River Seine aimlessly. I visited Notre-Dame’s Cathedral, walked away from the hottest touristic locations and decided to go to the Army’s Museum. Since a great part of French history took place in a battlefield it helped me understand what war does to a nation. Napoleon’s tomb and the Charles De Gaulle’s Museum were also in the same area so I found myself spending almost a whole day there.

I wasn’t in Paris for Bastille Day nor for the last leg of the Tour de France, but I wanted to see the decorations in Champs Elysees, so I walked and walked from the Grand Palais to the Arc de Triomphe. I imagined the allied forces marching down those same streets when they liberated the city from Nazi occupation in World War Two and it occurred to me that what is most inspirational about Paris is how past and present merge — you are constantly breathing history.

One not-so sunny day I took the train to Versailles and visited the palace and its gardens (my favorite part). Once inside, I grabbed an audioguide and began the tour at the King’s Apartments. There are no words to describe the majestic furniture and the ostentatious decorations. There was a sea of tourists making their way through the Hall of Mirrors and, surprisingly, I was more attracted to what was going on outside the window.

After visiting the Mesdames’ Apartments, I walked down the stairs into the gardens. Where to begin? I went to the Grand Canal and Little Venice, where I had lunch and relaxed as swans and ducks swam by with a threatening attitude… until I let them have some crumbs from my baguette, of course. Afterwards, I walked to the Grand and Petit Trianon, where royalty used to escape for more privacy. There was classical music playing in the gardens and if I let my imagination run wild, I could pretend I was inside a period movie. The most fun I had was getting lost there and running into so many differently decorated fountains inspired by Greek mythology. Was this place for real? I looked at my watch and realized it was almost closing time. I vowed to return — a whole day wasn’t enough time to see all there was to see.

I spent my last day in the city in “my” neighbourhood. The best view of Paris is that from Sacre Coeur, no questions asked. I bought a nutella crepe in one of those little cafes overlooking the street where the artists gather to show and sell their work. I wondered how many anecdotes we would hear if only those walls could speak! Before I left I had to visit a Dali exhibition. It was highly recommended by one of my roommates. It was worth it; it made me more interested in his work. What a brilliant and troubled mind!

Lastly, I was only a few metro stops away from a Stanley Kubrick exhibit I had read about. How could I not make it?! I almost missed my bus to London, but it was definitely one of the highlights of my trip. I’ve always admired Kubrick’s work, his creative mind and inventive spirit, yet I never knew just how devoted he was to what he did for a living. I have a newfound respect for him after learning about his work ethic and the exhausting process of making a film. I saw the original costumes and props from Spartacus, Barry Lyndon, The Orange Clockwork, 2001: Space Oddity, and The Shining, movie scripts with his annotations, and the letters he exchanged with actors, writers and producers. Even his thorough plan on making a movie about Napoleon… I wish we could have seen more of what he had to offer.

I said good-bye to Paris by savouring my last crepe near the Moulin Rouge and boarded the bus as last call was being announced.

London

I wouldn’t recommend taking a bus from Paris to London. At first I thought it would be a great way to save money. It was cheaper than the train ticket and I didn’t have to spend an extra night in Paris. However, I wasn’t able to sleep at all because  in Calais, we had to talk to the people in the migrations office… at 2 a.m.! Then, we had to wait for like an hour to actually board the ferry and crossing the canal took around 90 minutes, and it wasn’t a pleasant ride.  To make matters worse, there was this really annoying French guy who saw me reading a book and started to make conversation. I tried not to look interested without being rude — I was travelling alone, after all — but the guy just wouldn’t give up. After a few minutes he must have been tired of having his questions answered by monosyllables that he wished me a good time in London and walked away. Allow me one generalization; French men can be really persistent.

Tottenham Court Road was my first stop in London and from there I took the bus to Pimlico, where I was staying. This time my roommates were not as friendly as the ones in Paris.  I barely knew where they were from! But, the hostel was well-located, right in front of the Thames, above a pub and close to a Tesco Express and the bus stop.


I’ve never experienced anything quite as surreal as walking down the streets of London, seeing the red telephone booths and getting on a double-decker bus. By chance, I was able to conquer another childhood dream! Due to public demand ‘Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition’ at the O2 Bubble was extended through July 31st which meant I was getting there just in time. Ever since I saw James Cameron’s Titanic, I’ve been obsessed with the real story. When I was twelve I read every newspaper article, every book dealing with the subject matter and watched every documentary that I could get my hands on. Needless to say the twelve-year old in me was over the moon.

At the entrance, we were invited to journey the building of the ship to her sinking by given a boarding pass replica. I read the stories of the most notorious passengers and respectfully examined the belongings that have been rescued from the bottom of the ocean. It’s really emotional, especially when you find, in the middle of a half lit room, the bell that was once used to announce the ship’s imminent fate.

The exhibition achieves something extraordinary by making the visitors part of the ordeal; you invest yourself with all your senses.  The space began to feel hot as we walked through “the machine rooms” and it was chilly as we stepped out to the deck and saw the iceberg, which you are allowed to touch. Before stepping out of the exhibit we came to a wall with the names of all the passengers informing us who had survived and who didn’t. We were to look at the name on our boarding pass and see what our fate could have been. If you hadn’t already felt goosebumps, this proved to be enough of a trigger.

Afterwards, I needed some fresh air so I went for a walk in St. James’ Park. I made my way to Buckingham Palace and the Houses of Parliament. It was interesting to learn about royal protocol and democracy in the UK, but the amount of tourists in those specific spots was unbearable. I skipped Westminster Abbey which was surrounded by William and Kate’s “fans” and went directly to the theatre.

… Stay tuned for more of London tomorrow!

* * *

One Girl. Four Countries. Twenty-Five Days. is part of our Summer Series.

Summer Lovin’: One Girl. Four Countries. Twenty-Five Days. (Part 1)

”Fight the future” is a shy cupcake who lives in her own little world. A pop culture geek, lover of languages and different cultures, and professional daydreamer, her mind usually takes her to mind-blowing places. She is fearless. If she sets her heart on something, she knows she will get it… or that’s what she likes to believe. 

This summer, I decided to make one of my wildest dreams come true.
 
It started when my sister and I bought tickets for not one, but two music festivals - one of which included sleeping under the stars for three nights. But a suggestion from my sister turned it into something much different. I took the plunge and decided on a detour. Or a series of them.
 
Going on an adventure throughout Europe to see the sights I’ve always longed to see.
 
Solo.



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Summer Lovin’: Opa! (Part 2)

Welcome back!  In my last post, I told you about the disappointing news of a shortened stay in Santorini.  Would this be enough time for me to experience my own Sisterhood adventure?  Would I be able to go for a donkey ride, and hopefully not fall off like Tibby?
 
We had a 4.5 hour catamaran ride to Santorini on Sunday.  Once we settled into our hotel, the Hotel Daedalus, J, E, S, and I took a cab and booked it over Oia, one of the most beautiful places to watch the sunset, before it was overtaken by other tourists.  We ended up watching the sunset as we ate dinner (toast for me) on the rooftop at Pelekanos.  I really wished that we had changed beforehand, because it was quite windy and cold!  Luckily, the restaurant had fleece blankets for us to use.  Unfortunately, S, J, and I got colds from that night, and were sick for the rest of the trip.  After dinner, we explored Oia, bought more souvenirs, and took some nighttime pictures of the breathtaking views.  
 



Overlooking the Caldera


Sunset at Oia


Monday was jam packed as J and I got up a tad too late to take a tour around Santorini.  We also couldn’t take a tour of the hotsprings and the volcano, since it involves being able to swim.  (Something which I have to teach J and RV to do :P )  Instead, we kind of made our own little tour and headed for the beaches - Kamari, the black beach and Akrotiri, the red beach.  We took the bus over the Kamari and spent a couple of hours there.  The sand there is incredibly hot!  You definitely have to keep your shoes on.  The interesting thing is that the sand here, isn’t really sand, but it’s more gravel-like.  Here, again, I pretty much stayed under the umbrella (gotta love those umbrellas) when I wasn’t taking pictures.  



Kamari beach


Kamari beach

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