a lazy day at the lake

Today I had shin splints (something I haven't really suffered from since my lacrosse days) from my sorry attempt at hiking yesterday, and was feeling a little....not sick, but not 100%. So, I took a "vacation" day. I took a leisurely (but long) stroll from the train station to the lake, and, as I am learning is typical of Slovenia, I hardly saw a soul. It was great. I just walked along in the most beautiful of nature, listened to the birds sing, and sang a little myself. I've missed singing, since I can't sing in the hostels like I do when I'm at home, and if I sang on the trains the way I do when I'm alone in the car, I'd probably be sent to the crazy bin.
Once I reached the lake, I meandered around it, stunned at the beauty of the place, and the wonderful (and surprising) solitude that it offers. Having Robyn in Italy was perfect, I would have been super lonely there alone and we had a blast. But enjoying Slovenia alone, (completely and utterly alone) has been so wonderful. Anyway, I found a clean dock and read for a while, with my feet in the water that, even this early in the year, was the perfect, cool temperature. Never have I seen a lake with water this color (the picture below is no exaggeration), it is stunning, and it is FULL of trout. They are everywhere. Lake Bled must be one of the most beautiful, calm, quiet, peaceful places left in the world.
I love sLOVEnia!!


Tomorrow I leave for Croatia, and am suddenly plagued by mixed feelings. Slovenia and Croatia are the parts of my trip that I looked forward to the most (and Slovenia surely hasn't disappointed those hopes), but then...all I have left is Spain and Portugal. In Spain, I must briefly return to real life and responsibility in order to get some work done for my thesis, and then Portugal and then...IT'S ALL OVER!
What the devil (as James would say), where did the time go?

sLOVEnia

My first day in Slovenia was, as I have mentioned, very slow and relaxed. I arrived on a Sunday, and due to some poor planning on my part, didn't get to go to church. When I asked the receptionist at my hostel to give me directions to the nearest grocery store, she looked at me like I was crazy for a second and then told me it was closed, because it was Sunday. "Wow, that's neat," I thought. "A place that respects the Sabbath." Then, I went out for an evening stroll up to the castle and through a park or two. At first, it was almost eerie to see the absolutely deserted streets and hear the almost deafening church bells. Nothing was open and no one was there. Later in the evening people came out for walks, and luckily for me the kebab (gyro) places were open on Sunday. I honestly don't know what I'll do when I have to go back to the states and can't eat a Doner Kebab every day. I need to petition to have one put into the Cougareat or something.
Today was also pretty chill, it it's own, exhausting way. I jumped on a train this morning, only about 70% percent sure that it would take me where I wanted to go. It did. After a short bus ride, I asked for directions to Vintgar Gorge. "Up the hill to the left," she said. This is where I ended up:

Not a bad destination, to be sure, but not what I was aiming for. Someone there gave me new directions, "Leave the castle and go left.It's not very far." But the next person I asked said, in his very British accent, "It's at a terrible distance. Too far to walk, I'm afraid. We took a coach." "Yes, well," I wanted to say, "you are old and rich; I am young and poor and very stubborn. I'll walk." He insisted that I needed his map more than he did, which was probably true, so with that in hand, I headed off again for my destination. It was quite a walk, but quite a pleasant one, because the scenery was to die for.

But my destination would have been worth a much longer walk through much less pleasant territory. This is where I ended up today.


After the gorge, most people exit the same way they came in. I am not most people, and went for the road less traveled by. It was great. I got lost in the Slovenian woods for a good 30 minutes without ever seeing a soul, and it lead to just the right amount of hiking--about all that my weary legs and flip-flop-laden feet could handle.
I love, love, love sLOVEnia!

just what I needed

The last couple of days have been, as the title of this post would suggest, just what I needed. Yesterday we met up with a friend of Robyn's, Loredona. Loredona was an exchange student in Spanish Fork ten years ago, and that's the last time they saw each other. When they heard we were coming to Italy, Loredona and her boyfriend decided to treat us to a wonderful day in Venice.
First, we went to the Natural History Museum, which for some reason was free that day. It was fascinating, and reminded me of when I was a kid and how I wanted to be a zoologist or a marine biologist. Alas, I can't study everything.
Then they bought us a "mixed seafood platter". First, they wanted me to try the calamari, which I've eaten before, but it wasn't my favorite. I liked it more when I ate it at the Chinese New Year party at BYU, but still it isn't something I'd ever order. Then they wanted me to eat a fish about the size of my thumb--eyes, fins, bones, and all. It wasn't at all appetizing, but I had to be able to say that I tried it, kind of like the cucumber and feta gelato. And who knew, I might end up enjoying it as much, too. I didn't. The spines of the fins poked my tongue and the bones were crunchy...ick. Good thing they also bought me a diet Coke to wash it down with.
Later they bought us dinner at the cutest, most picturesque little cafe. We ate in the back courtyard with ivy over all the walls, and the menu completely in Italian, and it was just the sort of place you imagine when you think of Italy. It was fabulous. Then they wanted to buy us T-shirts that said Ciao Bella in the cursive writing typical of Coca Cola. I wanted one really bad, I have since I first saw them in Rome, but they had spent enough money on us as it was. But thanks, Loredona and boyfriend. A day of not spending any money like that was exactly what my budget needed.
Then, I finally got to talk to Danny, and later I found out that our hostel was about half as cheap as I had planned on, again, just what my budget needed.
And today I am here in Ljublana, Slovenia. It has been a very slow, relaxing day. Which, if you haven't guessed it, is exactly what I needed. I knew this trip would be exhausting, but I don't think I fully understood just how much. I'm just about at the half-way mark, and every morning when I get out of bed, my legs seem to say, "Really? You're still going? You're going to do this to us AGAIN?" And I say, "Yes, legs. I'm the boss, and we're in Europe, so get a move on." And they obey, although they protest for a while in the morning and when I sit down at night.
But it's worth it. Because this trip has been just what I needed.

roaming the "streets" of Venice

So our hostel here in Venice is awesome. Robyn and I have a private room and a private bathroom. We have an AC unit and a fridge, and it's the cheapest I could find. The downside? It's not actually in Venice. I guess that makes sense, since Venice is so small and...watery...and it's not that hard to get to, so I don't mind. But this morning when we finally decided to get out of bed, we ended up waiting at the bus stop for over an hour. We were told that there was some sort of strike, that the bridges into Venice were inaccessible, and that even the pricey shuttle from the hostel to Venice wasn't going. Luckily, it finally came.
Venice is super neat. It's like Prague, in that you want to take a picture every time you turn a corner, and there aren't too many people here. It's so cool that the "streets" are actually water ways as often as not. They even have "water taxis" which I would love to have an excuse (and the money) to take. One guy, dressed in the traditional garb of black slacks and a horizontally striped shirt, tried to talk us into a gondola ride. It breaks my heart to be here in Venice, probably for the only time in my life, and not take a gondola ride. So, just for curiosity's sake, I asked how much. €80! I replied, "I wish!" Then, he offered me a free gondola ride. All I had to do was kiss him. He wasn't that old, so I might have even considered the offer, except that he followed it up by saying, "We could make love on the water." Thanks, but no thanks.

Can life get better? I submit that it CANNOT!!

Today we went to the Uffizi Galeria. We saw works of art by Michelangelo, Rembrandt, and da Vinci. You know, the usual.
You are all going to think that I am uncultured, that I am unworthy of this trip, of being in this beautiful city. You are all going to look down your noses at me as an uneducated, silly girl. You may even shake your head at me, because the Uffizi was not the highlight of my day. Cool, yes. Highlight, no.
The highlight of my day was when I found out that Florence is the birthplace of gelato, and in honor of that fact, they are holding a gelato festival, which just happens to be on the days that I will be in Florence. We stumbled upon it quite by accident today, and, as many of you can imagine, I was pretty excited.
So the deal was you bought a gelato card and that entitled you to five "samples", which were about a full scoop. Robyn and I tried three together: advocado (which was good), cucumber and feta cheese (which was D-lish), and lemon and basil (which Robyn and I labeled a "slap in the face" of flavor, but after the initial slap, it was pretty good.) With our remaining two flavors, we each got one of our own. Robyn (crazy) got mushroom flavor, while I went with the safe bet of cinnamon cream to finish it off. It is entirely possible that we will go back again tomorrow before heading off to Venice.
But how cool is that, that of all the days of my trip that I could have ended up in this city, I, a gelato fanatic, just happen to be here for the gelato festival. I left my walking/hiking shoes on the train from La Spezia (typical), and have had no success in searching for them. I was so looking forward to hiking in Slovenia (and Timp when I get back for that matter) and after walking around in my beloved Havaianas on cobblestones for two days, my feet are...not happy. I was a little frustrated this morning when we went all the way across town to the agency we were told would have them and they weren't there,but after the gelato festival, I once again feel assured that Heavenly Father must really love me. Just, do me a favor, and pray for me to find my shoes too, OK?

Awesome and all of its synonyms

This morning started out not as crazy as I had feard. Yes, we had to set our alarm for 4:40, but I was wide awake at 4, so that didn't bother me. Our taxi was expensive, but we made it in plenty of time. When we got to La Spezia, we had no idea how to get to Cinque Terre, but we met a couple of girls from Michigan that had it all figured out. Everything just kept working out great.
When we got to Cinque Terre, we stared at the furthest villiage called Monterozzo. Awesome. Then we hiked (legitimate hiking) to Vernazza. Amazing. It reminded me of hiking Timp with Peter last year when I kept saying, "Look, Peeta, MOUNTAINS!" because I was so thrilled by the views. Today, I kept saying, "Look, Robyn, its MAGNIFICENT." After switching out 'magnificent' with 'unbelievable', 'unreal', 'wonderful', 'beautiful', 'amazing', 'breath-taking', and every other synonym in my active vocabulary, I just remained speachless. And, I was stoked to be hiking, so I was doubly in heaven. After hiking, I tried some cinnamon gelato, and it was as divine as the landscape. I had foolishly left my swimming suit in my other bag at the train station (what with our hurried departure from Rome and the rain yesterday, I wasn't fully prepared). But the water there was so inviting and after hiking I was so hot, that I jumped into the Mediterranean sea in my tank top and capris. And you know what? Totally worth it. I went swimming today in Paradise. Then we took a train to Manarola and walked to Riomaggiore. One of the villiages was inaccessable due to construction, but four out of five isn't bad. I was so worried that only one day there, with the stresses of catching trains, wouldn't be enough time, that the stress would outweigh the reward. But we had an indescribable, (insert several synonyms, etc.) day. Robyn and one point, in wonder of our surroundings, said, "Thank you so much for planning this. If I were planning Italy, I wouldn't have thought to come here, but this is great!"
Just when I thought we were through the potentially stressful part of the day, things got hectic. Our train back to La Spezia was delayed, so I ran frantically to get our luggage. We would have missed our connecting train to Pisa, but that one was delayed too. That made us miss our train to Florence, but luckily they come often. Once in Florence, we couldn't find our hostel because they gave us bad directions and because there are two streets by the same name, one far outside the city, and because it was already getting late. Some nice man working at a hotel front desk let us use his computer to search for hostels, and then helped us find them on the map. So, finally we are safe and sound in a hostel, and a pretty cheap one at that. Comparatively, anyway. Italy is proving to be SO expensive. I have to figure out how to convince Ben to buy me dinner while I'm in Lisbon. That, or just fast every other day in Slovenia and Croatia.
Anyway, this is the bay where Robyn and I went swimming, and our gelato shop is just there to the right. Be jealous. Be very jealous. Because today rocked.

a rainy day in Rome

This morning started off with the adventure of trying to find the church, which was far enough to be literally off the map. But with my good memory and map skills, and Robyn's people skills, we got on a bus in the general direction, sure that we could find it. We eventually did, but not without a lot of help. When we were very near the church, we asked a short Asian woman if she knew where Piazza Cornaro was. "Why?" she demanded. That was a new response. We said we needed to find an address there and again, "Why?" But then she continued, "You Mormon?" "Yes!" we replied, excited that obviously knew the place we wanted. "My husband active Mormon," she explained, as she smoked her cigarette and lead us to the church.
Then it was off for Robyn to see the outside of St. Peter's Basilica while I wrote post cards in the shade. Then more banana gelato (YUM!) and then more of lazy tourist life, just walking around, deciding what we want to do and when. Then it started to rain. We had left the hostel in such a hurry (we barely caught our shuttle into the city), and it had been so hot and sunny, that I didn't bring my rain jacket. I was OK with being rained on, but Robyn bought an umbrella and graciously did her best to share it with me. In then end, I decided my rather large bag was wet enough, and let it have a turn under the umbrella to protect my stuff, so I ended up pretty wet. I can't even count how many people tried to sell me an umbrella. But I'm far too stubborn. Robyn, bless her heart, offered to buy one for me, thinking it was only about the money. It was more than that. I am a tough girl, and when I planned this trip, I planned on enduring discomforts, on living like a vagabond, without many of the comforts of home that I am used to. If that included rain, then I was going to get soaked and love it, dang it!
But we had a great time, just wandering around, amazed by the history of the place and the splendor of it all. I wish it weren't so crowded here. There are too many tourists, but for a good reason, there are plenty of wonderful things to see.
We didn't get to see La boca de la verita, the stone sun where you put your hand in its mouth, and if you say something false, it is supposed to crush your hand. But I couldn't think of anything clever to say, and I like my hand whole. My feet have and are continuing to endure enough, I think I'll leave my hands alone.
One of the things I like most about this place (besides the obvious) is the smell. It always smells good here, like delicious food, or that wonderful white flower whose name I really need to learn, or like expensive perfume. That is such a pleasant change from other places I've been. Also, I like how men address me as "Bella". Does it matter that I know that they call every girl Bella? No. I'm still flattered.
Tomorrow is going to be nuts. We have to take a cab at 5:00 am to get to the train station to do a whirlwind tour of one city, then get on another train to Florence. It's going to be stressful and EXHAUSTING. But do a google image search of Cinque Terre and you'll be jealous, no matter the trouble it causes us.

great. now I have to learn German.

Those who know me well will be surprised by this title. I confess, I've never liked German. I don't think it's particularly...pleasant sounding. Nor do I believe myself to be alone in this opinion. But driving though the Austrian Alps yesterday, I decided that there could be no better life than to live in a cottage, in a cozy, isolated valley, nestled up in those breathtaking mountains.
This morning I arrived in Rome. I somehow managed to convince a nice guard to let me into the Vatican two hours earlier than my reservation, a huge blessing, or I wouldn't have had enough time. I didn't particularly like most of the Vatican, mostly because I hate large groups of people. I think large groups, like the hundreds of thousands at the Vatican today, magnify the characteristics of human nature that I most despise. Like how everyone believes the rules don't apply to them. I was really disappointed in people in the Sistine Chapel, shamelessly taking flash photos when pictures of any kind were forbidden, and talking when they had been repeatedly reminded that it was a holy place that required silence. Even when the guards shushed them, they blatantly ignored it. I had felt like a herd of cattle as I was jostled about trying to get in there, and the thought occurred to me that it would be just as futile to tell a herd of cattle to be quiet and respectful of a holy place.
But I was highly impressed by the Sistine Chapel itself, and not much art gains that reaction from me. It really did seem like the "tapestries" painted on the wall would rustle in a breeze at any moment, or that the angles on the ceilings would any moment fly down to smite all those stupid cattle-people. Good work, Michaelangelo.
I remember Orrin raving about St. Peter's Basilica in comparison to the churches we visited in Brazil, and it was interesting and beautiful. But I was not as impressed as I was with Prague Castle or with the Sistine Chapel. The Pieta is impressive, but they keep it so far away and behind so much glass. I feel like they do that with most of the things that would be really cool to see. Like the actual hand of St. Steven in his basilica in Budapest. And I always feel like the outside of such buildings is more beautiful than the inside.
But then I got my first (but certainly not last) dose of real, Italian gelato, and it was all I dreamed it could be. And they had banana flavor...I can't wait to get more tomorrow. Robyn's flight was a little delayed, and as I waited for an extra hour by our meeting place, I began to worry. It was then that I met Mike, an old Italian man that spoke English and wanted to talk my ear off about his family, Rome's history and sights to see, etc. And he gave me candy. It occurred to me that I was taking candy from a stranger, but he seemed safe enough. When Robyn came, we got some legit Italian food, and finally got to our hostel. This one is more camping style, the showers are in a different building, some people are in tents or mobile homes. But the evening air is deliciously cool and fragranced by some pleasant white flower whose name I don't know. I really like it here, even though the water comes and goes. For a minute we were in the showers, all soapy, and the water went out. Just as we were weighing our options for getting out, the water came back on, thank goodness! So, good gelato, good company, cool things to see, good hostel, and an unexpected gift. Good day!

so this one time I went to Budapest...

Did I say it was a quiet hostel?
Just as I was about to go to sleep, in stumbles a drunken Brazilian and collapses on the lockers. After a moment of me staring quizzically at him, he raises his head and says, "Do you know what I think is funny? All your clothes are white (referring to my garments hanging to dry in the room I was supposed to have to myself), and all mine are dark." After another moment, he said, slightly confused, "I don't sleep here." He did however, have all of his stuff in a locker in my room...maybe he was drunk when he checked in, too. I told him I was going to bed and he said he would leave, and came to kiss me goodbye. This concerned me for a moment, till I realized he's Brazilian, so I gave him his kiss on the cheek and he dutifully left. I hate drunks. Paul and Leo in Tallinn would have been fun drunks, if they hadn't woken everyone up so early, but their friends were jerks. My no-name drunkard Prague roommates were a pain in the butt. I hate drunks. Anyway, when I left this morning he was here, and I don't think he had gone to bed yet, and it didn't seem like he remembered meeting me.
Since arriving in Europe, I've gotten myself into this awful cycle. Even though I taught five days a week at 8 am last semester and had 8:30 church, even though I tried very hard to become a morning person for these obligations, I failed. And I failed miserably. The jet lag, however, has made it so I can't sleep past 6:45. This means that I leave the hostel early, get tuckered out early, and that just makes me get up earlier the next day. Today, I was out the door by 7. I then proceeded to walk around Budapest for 11 hours, with two one-hour breaks. Even if I only averaged 3 mph....that's a lot of miles. One of those breaks was sitting on a shady park bench beside the Fisherman' Bastion, reading my beloved Nook, and listening to wonderful live music from the nearby cafe.

The other break was spent sitting on the lawn, eating and reading by the parliament building. What a charmed life I lead.

Budapest sure does have beautiful things to see. Beautiful parks, a wee bit of hiking, birds singing all morning long, and some stunning architecture. My favorite part, though, was probably making friends with some Canadian girls. They were too scared to explore the Buda Castle Labyrinth (underground tunnels and chambers) alone, so they declared the only other person around (me) their leader, a challenge that I fearlessly accepted. It was super funny when, passing an especially dark void to the side of our path, I started to whimper and said, "Oh my gosh!" It freaked Caitlyn out so much that she squealed, and pushed me to get past it faster. Good times.
I liked Prague a lot more, but I still had a great day. I'm not sure that Budapest has enough stuff to keep me occupied for the remainder of my time here (I covered pretty much everything today. I really did walk A LOT), but maybe that's a good thing, because I really need to buckle down and plan a bit for Italy. I can' believe that chapter is so close already. Time flies!

stupid Slovakia

Getting to Budapest was rough.
First, just before I got on my train, I realized that I left my rings in the hostel in Prague. One was a Russian Orthodox ring I bought in Tallinn on my mission. Technically replaceable, though I was disappointed. But the other one was the ring that Larissa and Alexander gave me when I was transferred out of Daugavpils. That is irreplaceable. I have emailed the hostel to try to arrange something, but I haven't heard back.
Then, while I was on the train, they checked my ticket and informed me that, while my Euro-rail pass was valid in the country of origin and the country of the destination, they wanted 18 euros for the privilege of passing through Slovakia. Stupid Slovakia. It was lucky that I had euros to pay them too, since the Czech Republic and Hungary don't use them.
Then, when I got off the train...I don't know, I just didn't like the feel of this place. I didn't like the way people looked at me, I didn't like the construction, and I REALLY didn't like the way people looked at me. In Prague, I felt perfectly safe, maybe in part because I felt invisible; here I will be sure to be in the hostel early. Also, I feel like I have a good "I know exactly where I am going and exactly how to get there. If you so much as look at me for another second, I'll bust your face" look. I've seen plenty of people much tougher than me cower in fear under that look when given unconsciously, so I'll just keep that face on for the duration of my stay here.
Then, even though I knew my hostel was just across the street from the train station, I didn't know across which street. After circumambulating the train station twice, I was hungry and frustrated and didn't like the look of the place, so I paid what I knew to be highway robbery for a map that turned out to be not helpful. Luckily a nearby taxi driver was helpful and pointed me in the right direction. Stupid construction had obstructed my view, the hostel was right there. The entry to it, though, was super ghetto. I knew I wasn't staying at the Ritz or anything, but even I have my limits. "What have I gotten myself into now?"
Luckily, this is where things started to look up. The ghetto entrance opened onto a quaint, shady courtyard with flowers on the balconies of every level. My hostel's owner, Josef, is the sweetest old man ever. I have the hostel practically all to myself. I went out again to familiarize myself with the immediate surroundings, and get a gyro.
"With everything on it?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Spicy..." he warned.
I wanted to say, "Finally!"
I wanted to say, "I dare you!"
But I just smiled and nodded.
Then I located the nearest grocery store. With a gyro and a chocolate bar in my stomach, a quaint, quiet hostel (unlike my other loud hostels), my laundry finally being done, I feel much better. Now I'm going to plan my next couple of days and try to figure out how to get the most out of Budapest while trying to undo the damage done to my budget today what with stupid Slovakia and that highway robbery. But no worries, I have a feeling it's going to be great.

I could get used to this...

Waking up whenever I please.
Eating whatever I please, whenever I please (which is rarely, since I'm so captivated by other things).
Acting on the slightest whim, with no though of where it will take me.
Stopping to read whenever I want, for as long as I want.
Window shopping without the slightest urge to buy anything.
Buying delicious produce from street vendors.
Great weather.
Even better architecture.
Beautiful parks and lavish gardens.
Delicious gyros (however you choose to pronounce that word).
Decent gelato on every street corner.
Dozens of different languages to hear as you walk down the street. (with Brazilian portugues, my favorite, being well represented)
Around every corner another turret that makes fairytales believable.
Going to bed whenever I please.
No responsibilities whatsoever-no work, no school, no deadlines.
And the Prague castle, which I did visit again today.
Yes, I could get used to this.

If I had my loved ones here, could play pinochle, and had a full wardrobe (I like to look nice every once in a while), and the necessary funding, I would never want to go home.

it's true what they say about Prague

Oh my gosh Prague is AMAZING!! Today I was a little late for church since I was dumb and got on the wrong tram. Luckily I caught my mistake soon enough and was able to walk quickly enough to make it time for the sacrament. It took me about 40 minutes to get to church from my hostel. It took me 6 hours to get back. That's how wonderful Prague is, that's how much it sucks you in.
I went to the park next to the church to nibble on some bread, and soon got sucked in to wandering around, taking pictures. One thing I noticed was the graffiti. I'm no stranger to graffiti-the profane, the ugly, the beautiful, and the outright hysterical. It is everywhere in the Baltics too. But here, it breaks my heart. This is such an amazing, magical place, that to disfigure it like that is unforgivable to me.
After seeing a couple of monuments and a park or two, I found myself being sucked into the general flow of tourists on that side of the river. It started as a little trickle and then joined another little trickle and another until I was part of a mob. None of them ever looked like they were looking for anything specific. They appeared to be, like me, just wandering, captivated by this city. If that is ture, then we were all undeniably drawn to Prague castle, and when I got my first glimpse of that place, I was speechless, and not just because I don't have anyone here to talk to. It's so much more impressive than any photo lets on. It is the single most breathtaking and captivating man-made thing I have ever seen. Whether that speaks to my status of novice-traveler or to the astounding beauty of Prague, I will let you be the judge. In the end, the only thing that could take me away from it was the thought that, if I feel so inclined, I can come back tomorrow.
"OK," I told myself. "You've seen the castle. Now go home." I have laundry that I've been putting off. I am in a skirt and my church shoes aren't walking shoes. I am hungry. I am tired. It is cold. It is windy, and again, I'm in a skirt. None of these reasons could seem to get me home. Then my feet and back started to ache, but although it only grew worse, the wonders around every corner here kept me still for hours. Now, back at the hostel, I feel certain that I couldn't go another step today. Wish me luck getting up the billion flights of stairs to my room!

a new chapter

Well, chapter one of my trip-of-a-lifetime had a rather....anticlimactic end. We went to Narva, where Sister Foust served, but I never did. It was cool, I got to take a picture of myself with Estonia on the left and Russia on the right and some cool castles, but mostly it was for her nostalgia that we went. We met some members there, and I just ate their grapes while they reminisced. After that made our way back to Riga,taking our sweet time. On Thursday, we missed our bus to Riga and were stuck at the Tallinn bus station for 6 hours with all our stuff, but we were both content--Kate with her Kindle and me with my Nook.
My miraculously light packing job has turned out to be perfect, except for Thursday I got a mild blister and realized that I neglected to bring a first aid kit. "Oh well," I thought, "what could possibly happen? I'll be fin-" WHAM!! Just at that that exact moment I fall up the stone stairs, carrying all my stuff, as Kate and I hurried to our hostel at 11:00 pm. I hobbled to the top of the stairs to assess my injuries. My fingers were jammed, but nothing you can do about that. I looked down at the big toe that hurt the most. Again, badly jammed but nothing to be done. My other big toe, though, had a piece of flesh the size of a dime hanging off it and blood everywhere. All we could do was continue to the hostel and hope that they had something. It was difficult enough to walk on the cobblestone with my hurting toes, but then my shoe soon became slippery with all the blood. Luckily the hostel had some bandages, but today and yesterday (Friday and Saturday) I've been limping around in my squeaky shoes, a sorry sight to see. A sorrier sight, though, are my feet themselves. One big toe bandaged up like the head of someone that just recieved a sever concussion, one big toe swollen and purple, and the toenail next to that one still black from when I stubbed it before Christmas. A sad but extrememly comical testiment to my clumsiness.
But I don't want to complain. It really is super funny to me, and I get around just fine, and the first chapter of my trip was everything I could have hoped it would be.
The second chapter started out this morning much as the first on had, in a panic. "What am I thinking? I can't go off to a country I've never been to, where they speak a language I'm not familiar with, ALL BY MYSELF! What was I thinking?!?!? What am I going to do?!?!" Luckily this wave of panic was much easier to overcome than the first and I was soon on my way, as excited as ever. The landscape on the drive was phenomenal, and my first day here in Prague equally so. I kept telling myself that I was tired, that my head hurt, that I should do laundry and blog and get to bed, but every corner you turn here reveals another wonder, another excuse NOT to go back to the hostel. And I left the best part for tomorrow. It's going to be GREAT!

best. day. ever.

It sure didn't seem like it was going to be the best day ever. We were rudely forced out of our hostel room by some drunken Irishman and were left with several hours to kill before church and nothing to do. We wandered around until the grocery store opened so we could get some famed Estonian apple yogurt for breakfast, then wandered around a park and a beach-side path until it was time for church. That's when things got good.

One of the (many) reasons I love Daugavpils is that, being the last sister in that city and actually having some converts there, people remember me. It makes me feel like my time here wasn't a waste. Surely no on in Riga would really remember me, one of the reasons it doesn't feel like home. I didn't really expect much of a welcome in Tallinn, but I loved the branch here a lot, so I was excited to come anyway. I was excited to find sister missionaries here, since the shortage had left sisters only in Riga. When I introduced myself, the first sister said, "You're sister Norris!?!?" And then she proceeded to introduce me to her companions, "This is Sister NORRIS!" I couldn't figure out what the fuss was all about, surely the members don't remember me enough to rave about me. Then one sister asked me, "Do you remember Nadezhda?"

Pft. Do I remember Nadezhda. The Nadezhda that was the most golden investigaor that I'd ever had my whole mission, that slipped through the cracks after I left? The Nadezhda that I asked all the missionaries I could get ahold of about but none knew who I was talking about, the one I desperately wanted to find myself, but whose address I couldn't seem to remember? Yes, I remember her. I remember her well and frequently.

"She's getting baptized in two weeks. She talks about you all the time. She'll be here today." And she's bringing a friend. And her daughter is really warming up to us. The good news just kept coming. It was so AMAZING! When Nadezhda showed up, it took her a second to recognize me, but the she gasped and hugged me. I held her tight for as long as I dared, but she still wasn't ready to let me go. When she finally did, her eyes were red like she might cry and she said, "I prayed that you'd come to me, that we'd find each other." Then she invited me to her baptism, which I simply cannot attend. If only I had known. If I had come to the Baltics two weeks later, I could have seen Nadezhda and Luba Chebotariova baptized.

Then member Maxim drove us around to see beaches and waterfalls and forests around Tallinn. Free transportation, free entertainment, good company. Great news. Best. Day. Ever.

WHY AM I NOT A MISSIONARY?!?!

After another perfect day in my beloved D-pils, we were ready to say goodbye agin, probably forever this time. And that meant 8ish hours on a bus, a good thing since I'm still only able to sleep about 3 hours durring the night and busses mean dramamine and dramamine means sleep.

When we got to Riga, we had two hours till our but to Tallinn and my appetite had suddenly returned full force so we went to T.G.I.Fridays. Why an American restaurant, you ask? Again, it was about the memories. And today, it was about fate.

We sat next to the most adorable family that was speaking Russian and their baby boy wouldn't stop giving us his charming, toothless smile. His parents were also kind, helping him wave goodbye to us and wishing us luck, maybe because that's what Russians say or maybe because he thought we'd need it with our poor Russian skills. Kate mentioned that if she were still a missionary, she'd be all over that. I also noticed that one of the waitresses was the same one that had worked there when we came as missionaries, but I couldn't remember if she is the one that had asked about the book we always carried and to whom I gave a copy. But it was the other waitress that I noticed most. An old investigator. A promising one. One of those "ones that got away" because she moved to Bulgaria after the first three meetings. And she recognized me and hugged me. She said that some of the missionaries tried to call her recently, but she is very busy. We are facebook friends so I'm going to message her that it was good to see her and that she should meet with the missionaries again. Baltic people are all about signs and fate, so maybe running into her will give her just enough of a push to meet with the missionaries again. As we left Fridays, I told Sister Foust, "If we were still missionaries, we would have hit the jackpot today."

Tomorrow, church and an otherwise chill day in Tallinn. This is no Daugavpils, but it is still good to be here. I love this place. I remember in the MTC someone showed us a Baltic calendar with pictures of the different cities. Many of them were beautiful, but when I saw a picture of Tallinn, I got a special feeling. I knew I would finish my mission here, which I did, and I knew there would be some special people here. And there are. I can't wait to see them tomorrow!

daugavpils, city of my heart

Well, I didn't sleep much in Riga, in spite of being so tired from my hour-and-a-half nap that separated my first two days of travel. I went to sleep around 12:30 was awake around 3, got out of bed around 5:30, and got another half hour nap after breakfast. Luckily, Kate (formerly known as Sister Foust, my favoirte companion) agreed that Riga didn't hold anything special for us, so we were off to Daugavpils. That meant taking some of my favoirte drug (dramamine) and sleeping for the four hour bus ride. I woke up just before reaching D-pils, just in time for the most wonderful view of the Daugava (the river) and a beautiful landscape dotted with dachas (their summer "homes" that are really nothing more than lean-tos that they stay in to work in their gardens.) It was Latvia and its most ideal.

Even though this is the place that I said good-bye to first on the mission, I soon begin to recognize street names and landmarks. I remember it even better than Riga, maybe because we walked so much more here so we had to pay more attention, or maybe just because it is nearer and dearer to my heart. There isn't much to see in D-pils. OK, so there's nothing here to see. The sweet family that runs our hotel was obviously confused as to why someone who spoke poor Russian and no Latvian would want to stay here for two nights. For us this city is all about memories and people.

First we went to the Chebotariov family. The short version is that we found them, taught them, saw them baptized, and love them with all our hearts. If you want to hear the long version, about how miraculous and funny and wonderful they are, I'll tell you later, but it really is a LONG version. They didn't know we were coming, so when Arina asked, "who's there" and I answered, she threw the door open and hugged Kate and I in utter shock. She was so excited to see us and couldn't believe we were there. She called back to her family, "The sisters have come to see us, the sisters are here!" Their surprise was so prieless, and Larissa looked like she was going to cry. Luba was shy at first, but quick to warm up to us and was soon back to the little girl that was ever eager to show off to us and give us trinkets. They were sealed in the temple in November and will return in August to add Arina, who wasn't ready for the temple yet. Luba turns 8 in two weeks and will be baptized, provided her father can convince her that being dunked underwater like that is perfectly safe. Alexander is the first counselor in the branch presidency, and they are great member missionaries, as always. So amazing to have know them!

They called Vita, the most Celestial woman I have ever known, who lives nearby. "You'll never guess who we have here as guests...No...no...THE SISTERS!" As the last sister missionaries here, we are easier to remember. So after the mandatory tea and cookies, we had to go visit her too. We were not opposed, although I was slightly opposed to having to have more tea and more cookies. But the way Larissa and Vita hugged me, like they really meant it, was....just wonderful.

Vita mentioned that Eva, an old investigator, had moved appartments. I came to D-pils just in time for the baptism of her son, Lauris, and we would have baptized Eva too, but she had issues with her "husband". The only way for us to find her was for Vita and her daughter to walk us there. It was very late, but we had to find Eva. She was asleep so we headed home, but it was so late that the next tram didn't come for another hour, so we had to walk, which was fine. But when we got the hotel, it was all locked up, and for a while, we thought we would have to roam the streets of Daugavpils for the night. Luckily, that was not the case, we eventually got in, and luckily I had Kate with me so I wasn't too worried.

Even though this city is the smallest that I served in here and has literally nothing to see, we deided to stay another night to see Eva. We weren't sure what we would do with ourselves for the rest of the day, we're not sure how to find some of the other members we would like to see, many are in England, and we covered some of our favorites last night. But I think I'm staying for more than just Eva. I'm glad to stay another night in Daugavpils because Daugavpils still loves me. Daugavpils, very much unlike Riga, is still home.

riga

First, can I just say that I forgot how much I hate airplanes? I mean, I'm super grateful that I don't have to make long journeys in covered wagons, but really I hate those flying dungeons of torture. I've never gotten motion sick on a plane before today. I guess it was technically yesterday, but with only an hour and a half nap between them, yesterday and today seem like one LONG day. And 13 hours in the sky is a long time to be motion sick and unable to sleep, and then my bad knees began to ache from being stuck in seated position for so long.

But I made it to Riga.

Maybe because of my long trip, it's hard to say how exactly I feel here in Riga, SO many mixed emotions are brought on by being here, and I can't sort the good ones from the bad ones. Kind of like when I read the goodbye letter that Danny gave me. Missing him and being super grateful for him just kinda mix together in an emotional mud puddle.

Walking around Riga today was great and a part of me felt like it was absolutely a magical miracle to be here again. But then there was this part of me that felt like I had never been away, like any minute P-day would be over and we would have to head off to some appointment or a park for contacting. Maybe this last feeling was aided by the fact that NOTHING has changed. The fashions, the smells (vodka and tobacco) , the stores (Super Netto has the same advertisment hanging in the window that it did two years ago), the buildings (falling apart but still so beautiful), the jeers from men as they pass me on the street, the way it hurts after a while to walk on the charming cobblestone streets, the babushki ranting about anything and everything that is wrong with the world. It's all the same.

Here are some of the things I realized I missed most about this place as I was out and about. I miss being in a place with real history, buildings built in the 13th century. I miss being in a place worthy of having souvenir shops. I miss having flowers EVERYWHERE. Everywhere you turn is another flower stand, another girl holding a flower from her special someone or a special someone holding a flower, waiting for his girl. I miss the street musicians, especially that little old lady who playes the accordian--another unchanged feature of Riga. I miss the feeling that I can conquer the world. I'm in Latvia. Who's ever heard of Latvia? And I own it. I know my way around, I can manage. I can enjoy myself. If I can handle this, what can't I do? Although, I'll admit that is a feeling I'll be glad to trade it for the safety of home when the time comes.

But at the same time, there's a weird feeling that I don't belong here anymore. This was my home as a missionary, but without the tag, in some ways I'm a stranger again. I don't understand how I was able to come to this place and somehow be OK with staying for a year and a half. I am excited to quickly see Daugavpils and Tallinn and then move on to other sights, other places that will be strictly excitement, no emotional mudpuddles of nostalgia or feelings that I've had my time there and am no longer welcome. I guess you just can't really go back.