Vado a Padova… domani!

So my six weeks of travelling/milling about at home enjoying a bit of R+R flew by incredibly quickly – the most action-packed February I’ve ever had! The fabulous news now is that, tomorrow, I will be flying to Italy where I will be embarking on my next Erasmus semester in Padua (expect every blog post from now on to be pizza-related). Up until now, I hadn’t really thought about how excited I am because in the meantime I have had a great time travelling on a budget to – yet still managing to spend far too much money in – Brussels, Paris, Amsterdam, Norway and of course back home with the family. But now the penny has dropped – I am going to Italy tomorrow for the first time in my life, and will be staying a whole five months! La vita è bella I tell you…

Before I set off on this new adventure (please Easyjet give me a seat with adequate leg room), I should probably tie up a few loose ends. I haven’t quite managed to keep up with my blogging, so in order to provide a little summary of my winter travels, here are some of my favourite pics taken in various locations over the past month or so. I’ll say now that I am far from a professional – or even halfway decent – photographer, but I try to take quick snaps of things a little bit different that invoke particular random memories. (Brace yourselves for wonky/blurry photos…)


Faces of the different nationalities of the European Parliament

Faces of the different nationalities of the European Parliament


Le Manneken Pis – Brasil 2014 style!


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“Love is Dead” – not exactly something you’d expect to find spray painted onto the streets of Paris!


Incredible cakes at a bakery near my friend’s flat. No idea what they were, just that after one delicious mouthful I knew that I had probably maxed out my recommended calorie intake for that day…

Celebrating Sarah’s (bottom right hand corner) 21st birthday in style – with a classic Eiffel Tower selfie!



Remembering Nelson Mandela


One of the many canals I got lost walking down (preparing for Venice)


“Anything good in life is either illegal, immoral or fattening” – I read this in a restaurant whilst munching on a yummy (fattening) chicken schnitzel…





Lady in Stavanger. My ten year old cousin didn’t appreciate this because of the nudity


Colourful streets of Stavanger


Marilyn ❤


Deserted picturesque seaside town (Norway doesn’t do February)

Sunny view from my uncle and aunty's house - not bad!

Sunny view from my uncle and aunty’s house – not bad!

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A Norweigan man paid me the equivalent of £2 to take a picture of him sat here. I would’ve taken it for free…


A mosaic created by my Aunty and her former school (British International School of Stavanger), found in Stavanger Airport Arrivals – pretty cool claim to fame!

I have left out the photos of Paris Erotic Museum, where my friend Lauren and I found ourselves with six floors of all things phallic to look at – a weird experience, but definitely an unforgettable one. I guess watching 1950s porn together amongst other (mainly male) tourists just wasn’t our thing…

Anyway, back to the whole point of this post, I’m going to Italy tomorrow!!!! Did I mention that I am just a little bit excited? My first mission should probably to be to find somewhere to live, but with the Venice carnival currently in full swing, I feel that that particular task may be somewhat postponed. A few more nights in a hostel won’t hurt…


Getting lost in Paris

The weekend of the 23rd January was sadly to be my last weekend in France  for the time being, so what better way to spend it is there than in good old Paris? This was my third visit to Paris and, with each visit, my fondness for the French capital grows. Some may say that Paris is “over-rated” and “too touristy”, and yes, it is very obviously a tourist hot-spot but there is so much more to the charm of this alluring city than the traditional attractions such as Le Tour Eiffel and L’Arc de Triomphe. Don’t get me wrong, these landmarks are a must-see and have to be ticked off the bucket list on a trip to Paris (I hasten to add that there is absolutely no shame in taking numerous selfies with the Eiffel Tower in the background.) However, once these activities are out of the way, I urge you to soak up the atmosphere as much as possible in order to truly appreciate le facon de vivre and to encapture that Parisian charm which is so effortlessly portrayed in many a utopian, lovey-dovey sort of  French film.

My favourite way to do this is to simply leave your map at home, forget about any planned agendas and get lost. This is what I accidentally ended up doing as I set off to find Les Galeries Lafayettes (a luxury shopping centre boasting brands such as Gucci and Louis Vitton situated in a VERY beautiful building). Anyway, after a brief moment of panic as I realised I had left my map back at my friend’s flat and was therefore alone in a foreign city and on a metro notorious for its pick-pocketing professionals, I found an ounce of courage within me and set off on an adventure; “Bobbie the Traveller” had now upgraded to “Bobbie the Explorer”.

After asking several commuters how to reach my destination, and at least a good half an hour journey later, I finally found the galleries and spent a mere ten minutes there before I felt entirely overwhelmed. What was I doing in a place that sold handbags worth more than everything I’ve ever owned?? I also remembered how much I hate massive, over-crowded places where the exits are never completely clear, leading me to feel trapped in some very expensive bubble land. No amount of intricate painted glass and exquisite architecture could make me enjoy this place – in reality it is a shopping centre, and I dislike shopping centres.

So I was therefore left with four hours to fill before my friend finished work and I decided I would visit a Paris attraction which rests among my firm favourites, the Centre Pompidou – a complex with a bunch of street artists performing just outside it. Fun and free: much more up my street. However, without a map and with limited geographical knowledge of Paris, I had no real grasp of how to get there, or how far away it would be. Again, I sucked it up and remembered my new explorer title so didn’t let this minor detail phase me. I figured that it was near Notre Dame, which is along the Seine, so as long as I could find a river I would be halfway there.

Upon this little voyage I found things I wouldn’t normally know how to get to, and places I had never really intended to visit. This included a street of diamond shops with scary looking security guards at every shop entrance. Important looking men would roll up in whatever chauffeur-driven luxury car they happened to own, escorted into the shop where they would spend barely minutes looking for a gift, and then they’d stroll out again triumphant with their purchase. Done deal.

The next thing I unintentionally found was WHSmith Paris. I know I was living in France, meaning that complete immersion in everything French was necessary and thus going into a British shop was absolutely against any rule that I had set for myself, but I couldn’t help but pine after a little bit of Britain from time to time. I therefore had a peek inside to see what I might find; I always find it interesting to see how my own nationality and part of identity is represented and perceived by other nations, so maybe WHSmith Paris could help in giving me a slight insight?

I wasn’t disappointed as I soon found a shelf which represented every sort of food that us Brits are apparently famous for; Marmite, Marmalade, Branston pickle, Heinz baked beans and Colman’s mustard (all other nations must think we eat everything out of tins and cans). Another thing which made me chuckle was the mountain of unwanted mince pies they had on offer, as it very much reminded me of my own family’s cupboards back home. Every year we are left with stacks of leftovers; mince pies are simply no good once Christmas Day has passed!

Feeling slightly guilty after my indulgent British detour, I once again set off on my quest to find the river which thankfully happened to be very close by. Part one of the mission down, all I had to do now was to walk along the river in the opposite direction of the Eiffel Tower in order to reach Notre Dame and then the Centre Pompidou was around there somewhere: easy-peasy. However, I didn’t quite consider how far that might be…

On the walk up the river I stopped off to look at the many second hand pop-up bookshops and was very very tempted to buy an old-smelling, classic piece of French literature which I knew I would never read but would feel very cultural and intellectual for buying at the time. However, having already dumped half of my books at my friend’s flat on the basis that my suitcase was far too heavy (sorry Lauren) I decided against it and instead bought a few souvenirs to take back to my family. These included: a quirky chocolate-based fridge magnet for my Mum, and a poster of a cow with all the body parts labelled in French for my brother – should he ever wish to go into a French restaurant and order a Cow’s tongue, he now has a handy guide to help him.

So maybe these gifts weren’t the most conventional, but I thought they showed a bit of thought and definitely beat the over-priced commercial items of all the tacky tourist shops! Moreover, I got to try and explain to the shop-owner where my hometown (Newbury) is, and talking about Newbury is something I will never tire of doing: (une petite ville historique dans le sud de l’Angleterre, pas loin d’Oxford, une heure de Londres par train, oui je l’aime bien…)

Two hours later…

I finally found the Centre Pompidou and there was absolutely nothing going on, a bit of an anti-climax to my whole mission really. It would seem a rainy Monday in January wasn’t the most popular time for street artists to perform… However, after an initial pang of disappointment, I realised that I didn’t really mind. I had spent the afternoon wandering aimlessly around the streets of Paris and along the River Seine, practised speaking French, spent minimal amount of pennies, and stumbled across places I would had never have planned upon if I were to stick to a carefully thought-out agenda/route. All of this and I had a thoroughly enjoyable time doing it.

So basically what I’m trying to say here is, if you really want to attempt to get to know a foreign city, just find a little bit of the explorer in you and go and get lost!


Brussels – Day Two

It may be difficult for anyone who knows me (and therefore knows how I prefer to sit in a bar/café/anywhere to avoid marching about in the cold) to believe, but on “Brussels- Day Two” I spent a good ten hours sightseeing. Shock.

The sightseeing process was, however, slightly delayed by my quest to find a camera charger (mission impossible). After having been coerced into splurging forty euros on what was apparently the only option – a set which comprised of every method possible to charge my camera, and took a puzzling thirty minutes to assemble – it, inevitably, did not work. In a normal world this would be annoying enough, but you could simply take it back to the shop, request a refund and erase such a trauma from your memory. However, this was not to be the case. I had to go to a special desk for returns and deliveries, was given a numbered ticket like when you’re waiting to buy new kids shoes in Clark’s, and waited in line for enough time to watch a nature documentary on whalesong, with dutch commentary (customer services had kindly thought about keeping us entertained during the painful waiting time). When my number was finally called, I was met by a glum-faced assistant who responded to my issues by presenting me with a piece of A4 paper claiming to be a gift voucher for forty euros. Obviously this was not the result an English tourist was after – what use would I have with a gift voucher for a discount hardware shop exclusively in Brussels? Maybe I could find a good-value toaster or a smoothie maker to take back home with me in my suitcase…

Giving up on this particular assistant, I searched the shop for a higher source of power and eventually found someone who spoke to someone who called someone who called someone else who called her back to say that the refund was legit. My forty euros and I were finally to be reunited. If this experience has taught me anything, it’s to never expect anyone in the world to want to help you out… ever. Okay perhaps that’s a slightly cynical view, just don’t expect decent Customer Service in Brussels! (It also gave me an opportunity to put all that French arguing/debating in practise, although this argument was less along the lines of “should girls be allowed to wear the Burqa?”, or “is there a need for feminism in modern France?”, and more among the lines of “give me back my forty euros, bitch.”

Despite this whole episode stealing a good hour of my life, I left the shop feeling triumphant and therefore ready to seize the day. Thus the tourist activities could commence.

First up, the Atomium. So I’m a lover of all things cultural and am not known for being strongly passionate about science or technology. However, atoms are cool, and the Atomium was very impressive. It’s Brussels’ answer to the Eiffel Tower: a non-religious landmark that celebrates and encourages innovation, technology and modern society. Originally being constructed as part of the 1958 Brussels World Fair, the Atomium is the shape of a unit cell of an iron crystal, magnified 165 billion times. There are panaoramic views of Brussels from the top sphere, and you travel from sphere to sphere in some super cool space-agey, flashy-lighty escalators (who knew escalators could be such fun).

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Inside the Atomium, there was an exhibition on innovation and invention, which sought to define the difference between the two. The main idea is that anything can be invented regardless of its purpose or target market, but when it comes to innovation, there needs to be the specific needs of a target market in mind. The exhibition included Apple’s first version of a tablet in 1993 – “the Newton Message Pad”- which failed to innovate because it “was too early”; the technology was not up to date and there wasn’t yet a need in the market for a tablet.

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After my inner geek had been revitalised, it was time to go in search of yet more frites belges, this time opting for Brussels’ renowned Maison Antoine. You had to buy your frites (with an option of one of about a billion sauces – I stuck with my trusty mayo) at this little hut place and then take them inside a nearby bar. It seemed a bit weird to be taking a bag of chips into a bar but hey, if that’s the way to do it then so be it. We got chatting to some Italians on the table next to us (I say “we” because I pretended to know what was going on, but really I was quite clueless) who informed us that in preparation for every night out, they line their stomach with greasy fried goodness from Maison Antoine. This is apparently much more effective in avoiding a hangover rather than doing the standard end of the night kebab procedure us Brits are accustomed to. Seeing as these guys had already started on their drinking sesh at midday and had plans on making it a late one, I think it was fairly optimistic of them to think they could avoid a hangover in any case. Nonetheless, I was grateful to learn a bit of Italian drinking culture/tactics.


Oh also, here’s a “Cone of Legs” I found nearby…

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Onto what Brussels is probably most famous for; the European Parliament. Just wandering about the parliamentary buildings was super cool and inspiring because you hear so many different languages and see people from all over Europe, not to mention the fact these are the people who make every day decisions that affect all of us as European citizens. I can’t really think of a less vulgar way to describe this experience other than a “linguist’s wet dream”. (cringing at that expression but really don’t know how else to put it!)

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We went on a little interactive tour which told us a bit about the founding and the history of the EU, with many inspiring quotes along the way:

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The tour ended with a virtual parliament type thing where we sat in a bright white room (a bit like the one in Bruce Almighty) and pretended to be a parliament member whilst listening to various virtual figures put forward their case in order to try and get a law passed. Each member delivers their speech in their own language whilst a team of interpreters work their magic into the 23 official languages of the EU, meaning that each member only ever has to work and think in their mother tongue. How quickly and efficiently a community of so many nationalities can communicate was something I found fascinating; again, too much for an aspiring linguist to cope with.

After a successful touristy/educational day, we sought to recuperate by munching on another Belgian speciality: waffles. I think all of us went for some variation on nutella (does anyone realistically prefer their waffles with anything other than nutella…?)


Overall thoughts on Brussels – loved it (even with the camera charger fiasco). Perfect combination of pretty and historical sites mixed with a more modern/urban feel. Part of the charm for me is that, despite being a capital city as well as the capital of the European Union, it really didn’t seem that touristy. You could truly sense that it is a vibrant city that people live and work in; i.e. it isn’t overridden by tourists! (Apart from me). Next time I come back here, however, I definitely need to explore more of “Bruxelles par nuit”!

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(had to get a bit of Croatian loving in somewhere)

(had to get a bit of Croatian loving in somewhere)