Chiselhurst caves

THIS IS A GUEST POST from Charlotte Kay over at Holiday Extras. Because the only place in the UK that I’ve been to is Northern Ireland, I thought it appropriate to populate this blog with a little bit of Brit. And of course, because I’m all about going “Off the Path…” Charlie (as she’s called) has provided us with some perhaps unexpected suggestions for how to spend your vacay in the UK.

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Many travellers have a view of traveling to the United Kingdom that only involves cream teas, and stiff upper lips – a view that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Once you find your car at Heathrow Airport Parking and dropped your luggage off at one of the nearby Airport Hotels , step outside and prepare yourself for the strangest, weirdest, spookiest travel experience ever.

In the Cotswolds there is a little village whose residents partake in fully clothed football games in the river… this may be a fun start to a trip… or maybe you would prefer to visit Gloucstershire for their cheese rolling competition?

If you plan to stay just in the London area, be sure to visit Churchhill’s war rooms; full of interesting facts, stories and arifacts. For the macabre, alongside Guy’s Hospital near London Bridge, one can visit the Old Operating Theatre – an unusual museum that hosts a wide variety of items including an amputation table.

If you’re on the hunt for ghosts, be sure to visit The Viaduct Tavern which is one of London’s spookiest haunts. Call ahead if you want a tour of the cellar, which is the most haunted spot in the pub. The Tavern was built over parts of Newgate Prison which adds an extra edge to the experience; it’s a traveler destination that will not soon be forgotten. Check out this video to see more about the spooks (and AWESOME accents):

If you’re looking for something slightly more picturesque but want to maintain a spooky feel then Ham House by the River Thames is the place for you. For less haunted and more historical adventurers, be sure to go to Chiselhurst Caves – an easy trip by train. Originally used in World War II for air raid shelters, the caves can feel fairly haunting. Be sure to take advantage of the offered guided tours as this adds extra debth to these shadowy caves.

There are also a load of guided free and paid walks around the various areas of London for history buffs and paranormal enthusiasts who love the weird and haunted. There is a “Jack the Ripper” walk that follows his steps through London’s darker, seedier streets. If Jack the Ripper isn’t really your scene you can opt for a more light-hearted trek and try out the Theatreland Walking Tour that takes you through all the historical theatre locales in the city. If after all the partying and the macabre you feel the need for a little spiritual lightness, be sure to visit the many, many Cathedrals throughout the city.

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If you receive an error message, click HERE to view on my Flickr Photostream.

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The New Synagogue in Berlin has an incredible history. More prominently known for its in-house museum and office spaces, there is a small sanctuary offering Reform services on a regular weekly basis. I was excited to have the opportunity to “Attend a Shabbat outside my hometown” (and thus cross #40 off the Life To Do List), but I took it a step further- this service was out of the country and not in English!

My favorite memory from the experience was when we turned to a page where we said a very important Jewish prayer called the “Veahavta” (pronouced vay-ah-HOFF-tah). This is a very standard prayer that many young children memorize long before they fully speak the Hebrew language or know what the words mean. Well in the German language, as you probably know, the letter “W” is pronounced as we would pronounce a “V.” So instead of the prayer being written in transliteration as I’d grown up reading it (Veahavta), it was instead written with W’s! and was spelled Weahawta!

Fortunately for me, there was a visiting Rabbi from New York leading services. I could understand his hebrew and he was accompanied by an incredibly talented female cantor. At the conclusion of services, he wished everyone “Shabbat Shalom” (a peaceful sabbath) and I responded with the same he immediately knew I was American. He asked me where I was from and turns out he grew up near my current home in Los Angeles. Even when I am across the globe, the world feels small!

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In this picture, I enjoy the way the ominous sky seems pierced through by an equally ominous font. Considering this sign appears at the top of a stairway going underground, the entire mood here seems to match the feeling one might get looking into the unfamiliar abyss of the Paris underground. The bright orange glow of the accompanying lamp post seems to indicate even further warning.

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I appreciate the monotone slate blue of the reflection as it truly mirrors the sky from that cloudy and chill day. I appreciate that from where I stood, the reflection was inverted so it appears as though this picture is “upside down,” when in fact this is exactly what I was looking at as I stared into the ice. This silhouette itself is interesting as the tree reflected here in front of the city capital has so much character. The texture makes the visage looks like a painting I’d love to hang on my wall.

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This picture provides a rare glimpse of an infamous location and its human surroundings. This interesting character simply wanted to bring smiles to the faces of the wandering bikers and walkers crossing this path and I love that his own bubble frames his face. The sunlit gate still looks striking in the background, but in this photo it becomes a character looking over the people that pass through its columns on a daily basis.

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The depth of field in this photograph does a great deal to reveal just how many stones are piled into this small cemetery. The jilted directions and weathered surfaces give so much character to the charming locale. I also enjoy the irony of the dead leaves fallen upon grave stones, and yet it all is so beautiful.

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The Eiffel Tour

When you travel the world, you come home with lots of good stuff. There are people that amass refrigerator magnets. There are people that collect jewelry. The most “hard core” travelers will scoff and lecture you on the difference between being a traveler and being a tourist. Theoretically, souvenirs fall into the “tourism” category- the less cool category.

Well I have an embarrassing thing to admit to all of you: I collect Hard Rock Cafe glasses. I find this embarrassing because HRC’s tend to be the most cliche of travel stops. Why for instance, while traveling in Prague and surrounded by incredible culture and food, would you stop into a greasy American hamburger joint laden with rock star memorabilia?

My answer is simple: because the Hard Rock Cafe is what introduced me to the idea of travel to begin with. Some people have maps with dots that show where they’ve been around the world. Well before I had a passport, my first travel collection was a set of Pilsner glasses from San Francisco, New York, and other American cities I randomly got to visit through school trips or mini vacations. I thought it was so cool that I had souvenirs that were a testament to the fact that I had been somewhere other than here.

I’ve since embraced the idea of travel maps, I have a growing collection of puppets from around the planet, and now collect other more meaningful memorabilia that actually reminds me of the indigenous goods that are made in the incredible places that I’ve been lucky enough to visit around the world. However, through my high school graduation trip to Europe (which was only my second international venture), the Hard Rock Cafe glasses were still important proof that I had in fact been where I told people I was going.

Le Moulin Rouge in Gay Paris

After the summer of 2001, when the high school graduation trip was complete, I had three new glasses to add to my collection: Barcelona, Firenze (Florence), and Paris. My collection had gone international! Imagine my disappointment when I opened my suitcase upon my return from the trip and discovered that my Paris Pilsner had been shattered on the airplane (this was of course before I knew anything about packing). And thinking back, I had also accidentally slept through the tour of the Eiffel Tour. All in all, I felt I had not done Paris any justice.

The feeling of failure doesn’t sit well with me, so I always said that I had to go back to Paris. That I had to scale the Eiffel Tour and I had to replace my broken Pilsner. I said it for so long that I actually added the item to my “Life To Do List;” #20: Return to Paris (Scale the Eiffel Tower & replace Broken Hard Rock glass). I guess I was hoping that I’d somehow manifest a trip to Europe in the next five years.

Instead, my best friend and I had suddenly booked a trip to Nepal to shoot our documentary about the Unatti Girls. She joked about also wanting to go to Italy. I told her about my need to return to Paris at some point. I teasingly suggested that since we were already over there (there being over an Ocean but in fact, nowhere near Europe), we might as well add a month of travel and go backpacking from Italy to France after shooting the documentary. Why not, right? And then all of a sudden we were booking tickets from Nepal to Italy, with an unexpected stopover in India.

Striking a pose at the Hard Rock Prague

Once arriving in Europe, I added a couple of shot glasses to my Hard Rock collection when we were in Venice, Prague, and Amsterdam. We always happened upon the HRC’s, even when we weren’t looking, and once there, I couldn’t fight my ingrained urge to collect. Not to mention, the Hard Rock Cafe is one of the only places I got to eat avocado when I was in Europe… and I love me some avocado.

When we got to Paris, getting that darn glass was just as important to me as scaling L’ Tour Eiffel. But after a few days, I forgot about the Hard Rock and became entranced by the beauty that is Paris in the wintertime. The day before we were set to head back to the States, I was having a miserable evening after purchasing a new pair of shoes (having worn the same pair for two months straight). We declined to follow our good friend Dorit to the next stop on the party train and instead searched for the nearest subway stop to get back to our hotel and soak my poor miserable feet. Wouldn’t you know it that the closest subway station was smack dab in front of the very same Hard Rock Cafe I had been in almost 10 years ago! I call it Fate.

Call it silly, but I was extremely excited to get that glass. I was stoked that I had written down a goal over a year ago and that suddenly I was in Paris, had scaled the Eiffel Tour, and was soon headed back to my home in Los Angeles with new glasses to add to the very collection that had ignited my desire to travel so long ago. Embarrassing habit or not, my devotion to the Hard Rock Cafe collection literally landed me Back in Paris, so I guess it’s not a bad collection to have.

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The Bone Chandelier at Sedlec Ostuary

There is a small town outside of Prague (Czech Republic), reachable by train, called “Kutná Hora.” At one point in its history, this small neighbor competed with Prague economically. Still part of “Bohemia” and now the Czech Republic, this lesser famous town is only worth the visit if you’ve got the time. I certainly wouldn’t recommend missing part of Prague in order to see it.

The main reason to visit this quaint little town is that it has some amazing photo opportunities. In November, which is when I visited, the streets were deserted. It felt like a ghost town, but the absence of humans made the layers of fog and chill seem more crisp and made the glossy streets and multi-colored trees seem like a painting you were magically given permission to walk through.

The site I particularly came to see was the Sedlec Ostuary, called Kostnice Sedlec in Czech. For our part, we call it “The Bone Church.” With an exciting history that includes ties to “Black Death” and thousands of graves, If you’re not freaked out by piles of bones, then this place is a spooky yet fascinating display for you to see.

Church workers infamously constructed piles of bones from the many bodies originally buried in the area as well as a family coat of arms (ironic?) and a chandelier. This leaves the place looking like permanent Halloween art installation.

Just a short walk from the train station you arrive at, you’ll need to ask one of the station staff for a small map to tell you how to get to the Church. It’s about a mile or so walk, with small town charm to feast your eyes on as you stroll. The train to get back to Prague comes every two hours, and since you don’t need a reservation to ride in either direction, you can peruse at your leisure.

If I’m being honest, I will say that the church is much smaller than you think it would be. The information cards they give you (translated into many languages) are not particularly well-written or informative, but give you some context for what you’re looking at. The tell-tale souvenir skulls that you can purchase as well as the “flatten a penny” machines made the church feel less than holy. But the pictures you get… they can’t be beat.

The surrounding graveyard is also rather picturesque as it is quite small and surrounded by fields of colorful trees. I was impressed by the local devotion to making sure that no grave was flowerless or forgotten.

Overall, I enjoyed (but was underwhelmed by) my extremely brief visit to the small town of Kutná Hora. It was a cheap & fast train (about 1 hour & US $20 from Prague), an extremely picturesque view along the way, and a wonderful treat for my camera’s lens when I arrived. I was lucky enough to have plenty of free time, otherwise I would have passed.

To see more pictures from this interesting locale, check out my FlickR page: HERE

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The Train Station

It is embarrassing that Americans are not forced to learn more languages. Leaving U.S. soil and heading any place that does not list English as its national language will show you that. It is relatively easy for a United States (or United Kingdom) resident to get around the world, specifically because English is spoken so often. I think it does a disservice to ourselves to therefore rely on this convenience rather than force ourselves to expand options by diversifying our communication options.

In Belgium, you can’t get a job with the government unless you speak four languages. Almost everyone in Europe and Asia, especially of the younger generations, knows at least two. Though I studied Hebrew as a student for my Bat Mitzvah, I’ve never used it conversationally. I took more than four years of Spanish classes, but rarely take the opportunity to speak with the multitude of people around me in Southern California who could help me keep the words fresh in my memory bank. I’d really like to change that.

Though I was already experiencing the self-deprecation of being an influent American traveler in Europe, a man on a train decided to grind in just

The View from the train

how unfortunate my lack of ability is. We were headed by train to a portion of the picturesque (see right) Czech countryside called Kutna Hora while reading aloud (In English) from our Kindle. The man passed by us on the way to his seat and attempted to speak to us in Czech, which we do not speak. When we explain this to him, he grew very frustrated.

In very broken English, he growled “When I go to America, I must speak English. You are in Czech Republic. You should speak Czech. ” I apologized to the man on behalf of the American educational system. He grumbled away and left my travel partner and I dumbfounded and feeling bad. I wanted to visit him at his seat and explain that I too wish for that. That the reason I don’t speak Czech is not that I think my language is better, or that I shouldn’t have to learn it- but that I’ve never had the opportunity. Then I remembered that we don’t speak the same language and that an explanation (said, “excuse”) would not fix the problem.

After 2 months of being in countries where English is not the primary language, I’d like to say that treating a foreigner differently because s/he speaks a different language is inappropriate. No matter how frustrating the miscommunication(s) may be, it’s important to recognize that somewhere in the world- you can’t be understood either.

To bridge this gap, I highly recommend trying while traveling. Learn key phrases such as “Please” and “Thank You.” Even starting and ending with these small attempts fills the space around your conversation with attempts at meeting in the middle. And even better- go learn another language- or two. And then travel to a country that speaks that language. And then use it. The pride you feel for the accomplishment and the respect that you give to the native speakers has the capacity to make a real difference.

After all, wouldn’t it be amazing if we could all actually talk to one another?

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