Vienna Waits for You (Evropa Momentos - 08.10.2012)

Seek the LORD while he may be found; call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

Isaiah 55: 6 - 7

Alright, I need to apologize:

To my dear readers, I apologize for my lack of experience in blogging. I hope I didn't let many of you down. For the ones I did - let's take another shot @ this, but slower.

It is hard to write everyday! Including editing photos, wording the stories accurately, reliving the moments... no wonder blogging can be a profession.

:]

So, let's turn this into a "back in history" type of blog: "Evropa Momentos"
Daily won't be required, but stories are still pretty accurate. ;)

.....Friday, August 10th, 2012.

Today was the second day, and as Russian tradition would have it.....

We woke up late.

Breakfast was rushed.             Poppy.
Food was delicious.                Seed.
Leaving was not.                     Roll.


But good thing we ordered our days in halves*!
   Meaning:   (1 evening/night + 1 following morning/day) per city = afternoon driving + evening arrivals in new city

*exclusions: two days in two amazing cities ;)



So,
we were able
to breathe
Prague's airs
one more
time.










Before we could gawk at more architecture, there was a peculiar scenario on Karlov Mohst that turned the eye of many Disney-fanatics & Panama-hat wearers:

                 a man in his weaved hat & red vest
                           spinning the handle to his musical "box" cart
                                              with a boy dancing his heart out,
                                                       among the dull crowd of gazers.

Even better, the boy was dancing with his plush best friend.

                       The happiest scene alive, not a care in the world, with music as his background.
And everyone was happy.

As legend has it (for my sister saw him 5 years ago), the musical man spends his retired days there, making people happy with is old-fashioned musical cart!

I feel like he's been in Disney movies before...


Anyway...

We visited the St. Vitus Cathedral once more, per my request.
I needed to embrace the gargoyle cousins of Quasimodo & the rusty sanctuary of old once more.

Don't you ever have a feeling to try soaking in as much of a place as possible, not knowing if you'd ever see it again?
At least, I did.

I hope you have those feelings, too.
They make memories juicy.

And at the same time, it feels like it never happened.


And guess what we found on they way back from St. Vitus?
A remote-controlled lawn-mower!

That's right folks: a 2-foot machine that squiggles across your lawn in a rotary fashion, snipping away to an even 1.5 (ish?) inch grass height.

Pretty cool ey?
So my father thought.
(insert: video of awe)

Also, during our roaming:
 
 I saw for the first time (and probably last time) a gold Porshe. Ah! :]

     

Praha was by far the most colorful city I have ever visited, and hence... I was sad to arrive later that evening to a dreary, tan-gray Vienna (or more accurately, Wien).

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
These were three things that constantly amazed me in Europe:
1) the size of towns were dimes compared to our American suburb quarters.
2) chapels & cathedrals & churches were the center of attention always.
3) smoking is breathing.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And a few valuable lessons I learned on my second day:
1) it is my DESTINY to always have someone photo-bomb my pictures EVERYWHERE

2) "pozor" in Czech really means "warning"/"caution" in English, even if it sounds like "shame"/"disgrace" in Russian.

If you were Russian, you would read this signs like this:
        SHAME!
                  How DISGRACEFUL of you, that bikers are in
                  the right lane of you!

Instead, it should be read to the Czech & everyone else:
                Caution, bikers are in the right lane.

See the cultural issues I could have been having, had we not moved to America?
We wouldn't even know how to enjoy a vacation.

Moving on...



3) green lanterns exist. But beautiful, instead of creepy. Like at castle entrances.

4) for the drivers:

                 if you are driving through a city,
                     and a car going the opposite direction  FLASHES                              their headlights at you,
                 it means ... there is a cop
                     on your way!

           WOAH! + blink the emergency lights = "thank you"



and finally...

5) pork is a staple.
You know, my friends have told me it takes pork 2 weeks to leave your body.
Guess I was permanently Czech for a few months.

Now, every place served pork, and cheap (comparatively).
I've never known that such unclean swine must be served with such embellishment, and eaten with finer finesse.

The pork knee (budgeting goodness!) we ate (to celebrate our stay in Prague) was delicately slipped through an embellished spike, browned so perfectly, you would have thought it was Christmas dinner waiting for you.
And lo, it came with roasted white onions, the size of marbles.
And more lo, the waiter was Irish, working in Czech Republic, living in the country Georgia, recently from vacation to Vienna.
I mean... how bizarre is this situation?
Truly, a delicious experiment, nonetheless, and only finished with more fascination:

a layered latte.

The best eating experience one could encounter in the Czech Republic.

And so, we left, with full bellies and sad dreams to return to Praha again.


Of what would be next?

The highways between Praha & Wien: OH MY.

Lots of teeny-tiny towns scattered across the plains of Bohemia, with steeples stapled to the city centers, keeping the culture & town together by hymnal lyrics & religious deacons.

(Not to mention pubs & cafes, with cigarettes as floor decor nearly everywhere.)

The ride on their autobahns was often like driving to Salem: something to see... somewhere.

I mean, maybe many of you would say, "But Angie, you're in Europe! 

Embrace it!"

I know, I know... be thankful. 

Alright, but seriously:  some of the streets of Austria are crummy, okay. 

But the further you go in, the better it gets? Mmm, maybe.


At least they played music in the city streets (literally, through the intercom-ish things!)

(But quick funny fact: I saw a city named "Velka Bites". :]
Those of you Rus-English people, it sounds like "the fork bites". hehe.)

And the hills are gorgeous, I got to tell you, but after a while, you only see the bland grayish/tanish road and speckles of cities glimmering in the distances.


Ah, but it did feel like Italian Job or The Bourne Ultimatum (or any action movie requiring cars) once we hit the big city streets through Austria, especially Wien.

Lights cascading at the tops of hills where the tunnel ends...

Swift-turn swerves forging into calm intersections of cheap cars waiting...

Mercedes, or even better, Austin Martins swishing past us in the dark alleyways as we try to understand where the GPS is taking us, while feeling ripped off, cuz we want THAT car...

(but we didn't break faith with our Fiat Panda. She was a trooper.)


It was a dream.
Until we reached the hotel.
Which was a sad dream.


It looked... ugh, plastered?
Fake?
Maybe counterfeit?
What if I had booked a room at a scam place, and we'd have to sleep in our yellow-angel Panda, parked on the side of the road, losing Euros because we didn't cancel in time, cuz we didn't know this place was fake??

But no, it wasn't a scam.
It just was a witty disguise for thieves not to rob a place that was beautiful inside.

[P.S. Many European places do that: outside = unattractive, inside = score decor]

The inside of our Vienna hotel was modern design.
NOTHING like my Father's or my style.

Green-padded Mackintosh-style chairs.
Glassy geometric chandeliers.
White.
White.
Black... ish.

I dunno. My favorite part was the Russian Vinni Pukh balloon painting that hung by registration.
It was kinda cute. :}

Our room.
061.
[Why put a zero there?? It still isn't a sig. fig.]

The room was hot.
And the A/C don't work.
And we can't open the window.
Why?
We're on the first floor, at the end, with window facing the sketchy parking lot, where 3 whispering men lurk in a huddle of cigarette smoke.

Mmm, we'll pass.

We're thankful for safety and 350 grams of deli-meat.


And so, midst the sticker orchids on the walls & the humid sniffs of cleaner, we dined eloquently in pajamas, sharing a tomato, 350 grams of deli-meat, and fluffy bread.
With Olympics on, of course.


We faired well, praise God. :)


Onto tomorrow's explorations!

Getting There: Part 2 + Prague (One Year Ago Today - 08.09.2012)

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; 

for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 ESV

Second day... Thursday, August 9th, 2012.

I prayed the entire flight over the deep Atlantic Ocean. 

So high above that insecurity were we, that every turbulence led me to believe I'd die in the black ocean like Jack in Titanic... and I'd never see Europe.

....

......

.........

But that would be too dramatic, so I prayed, and we landed safely in Prague. :]

And we went straight for the car.

Now, the car was every bit a part of our trip, not just transportation-wise, but like another person. 

It had it's own character.

It had it's own opinions.

It had it's own name.

It had it's own complaints.

It had it's own gas tank.

It was.... a Panda.

No, no, no....not that kind of panda, people.

A Fiat Panda. :) (silly people)

A four-door bundle of yellow, settled sweetly in the airport parking garage, waiting for us to meet it. 

(my sister was jealous :])

Little did we know how much we'd experience with the Panda in the next 5000 kilometers.

For our first ride, we found our "hotel", hidden in the outskirts of Prague.

Actually, it is correctly called Praha.

Immediately, after somewhat identifying the building where we'd be spending the night, 

we started our EXPLORATION.

Now, why did we start with Praha?

My father wisely said, 

    "You must see the best of Europe so that you would want to come back to it in the end."

And indeed, it is the best of Europe.

Pale, creamy warm-colored cafes, hotels, apartments, shops & offices... snugly nestled together among weaving alleyways & streets... 

Cobblestone directing the wayward & directional up and down the hilly narrow roads that could make you lost in Praha for daaaays...

Trees and greens hustling to fit among the walkways & yonder hills to impress you, their flitting strut positions by the lanes...

Grand steeples and eerie gargoyles ornamenting the numerous cathedrals, darkened by memory's sediments.

A vast, long blue, calmly dividing the city's beauty in two, full of tourist "steamers"... with low bridges, adorning the watery gap in their stony stacking & numerous peddlers' booths... 

Booths of hand-painted hair clips, glass-blown necklaces, artists complimenting your portrait, musicians exhilarating your experience with accordions & guitars...

You are in Praha. :]

So Father & I parked in a "restricted" area, only to carefree-ly find out later that we were supposed to pay to park there. 

(But who knew what that blue line on the road meant, anyway?)

...speaking of blue...

Praha is full of color. EVERYWHERE.

Yellows, oranges, vermillion, gamboge, pale blues, browns, tans, even greens, viridian... rarely a black in sight, unless a building is burnt or very old.

First stop: Karlov Mohst*

*we had such a debacle about this... 

...I said the English translation was "Charles' Bridge"...

and he said, "No cultured person in the world would know what 'Charles Bridge' is. They would know, however, that there is a Karlov Mohst in Prague."

(I still hold the position that you can call it 'Charles' Bridge'.)

As you can see, the grandeur is quite awe-striking, but what was the most painful part of this beauty was the 135 unsteady stairs that curl up to the tower's top. 

Sure, it was worth every koruna... and every knee ailment there-afterward.

(P.S. My dad is secretly a pro behind a camera. I'll be releasing all kinds of facts throughout this trip.)

We roamed the across bridge, 

humbled by the thousands of other passersby... 

I never wanted to leave my Dad's sight, for fear of becoming more than a passerby later on. 

(Ever seen Taken?)

Second stop: St. Vitus Cathedral

This was my most favorite part of Praha. Yes, it takes tedious efforts & at least 1 hour from Karlov Mohst to roam up the windy alleys & roads before you can actually admit that you are even close to this cathedral. 

But, the first sight is breath-taking, in every sense of the word.

First, you see buildings blocking that point of interest. 

"Grr," you think. 

"How will I ever get inside that cathedral with all these monuments & buildings in the way?" 

(By the way, those monuments & buildings are worth staring at, too.)

Then, you finally land in front of the biggest building before it, and say, "Ah, I can now go through this short tunnel & finally see it!"

But then, you & your father meander through this huddled tunnel, waiting for your turn out to the other side.

Lo and behold, it rises before you, the decrepit sanctuary of old. 

You tilt your head back as far as you can, and even then, you cannot grasp where the tip-top ends. 

All you can think of is, "This is better than Notre Dam," even if you've never seen that one.

You reach for your camera, you attempt to capture it, fail while also getting the ugliest angles of yourself in the shots. 

Then, you give up and say, "WOW....", knowing that is the only way you can fully remember it: staring.

Then you see the Asians & Arabs around you with their cameras, doing the same thing you American thought you could do. 

And everyone has half-head shots with double chins from the bottom angle in front of St. Vitus Cathedral.

Lovely.... kind of.

Walking inside of the St. Vitus Cathedral, there has never been such height nor light to fill a sanctuary. And because it is so, the price is also as cash never been found in your pockets.

So you only stand in the foyer, admiring the grandest sight of what is probably carved marble & stained-glass Bible & Catholic images.

You know, I'm so glad that the Church used to erect such hollow & high places, full of light & shadows to make any soul feel seen and yet hidden. It feels like a sanctuary, because it is.

After that whole experience, I definitely felt like the trip was worth it just for that sight.

If I could spend hours anywhere, it would probably be in St. Vitus Cathedral (if they would let me roam the entire cathedral, like Quasimodo).

Yonder down the list of things we did:

~We booked it to the Astronomical Clock back over the bridge.

Dad tried explaining the whole logical, religious meaning behind it... it was quite intricate.

~Stopped by this tiny tea shop in a quiet courtyard

(This is here I bought Diana a non-traditional tea cup!)

P.S. Jumpy was the name of a car!

                     "I drive a Jumpy." 

(sounds like something an Aussie would say.)

~We lunched... at Pilsner Urquell

Now, Pilsner Urquell is almost like the McDonald's of Czech Republic, but superior-ly more scrumptious. Meaning, they have a bistro every couple streets.

Never have I eaten so much delicious, greasy goulash with kielbasa & potatoes so satisfyingly painfully.

It was dripping with fat, but the flavors were worth their price in yum. 

Yet, I am sure one can easily feel heartburn within minutes of horking it down. (Mind you, every dish needs potato here.)

The waiter could speak at least 6 languages, including Italian, English, Russian, Spanish, German & of course, Czech. He always said "thank you" after everything he said.

I was reminded that a bottle of juice in U.S.A. is not the same size as in Europe. In fact, half the size + the thickness of glass to for less juice. (maybe that's why people are half the size here?)

Nevertheless, our wailing tummies were finally filled with real Czech cuisine. :)

Now, some of my other family members decided to cross paths in Praha around the same time, so we actually had a small reunion while starting this trip. :)

God has blessed me with simple family members, who always took me in wherever I went. They are always welcome to our place, the same, so it's nice to have that kind of simple bond with my family.

We decided to accompany each other's dinners at an antique restaurant "Prazan" near a fair.

Here, I found out that a plush Superman hangs on walls by antique decor...

Needless to say, with such an interesting situation of decoration (interior designers, I'm not sure you'd approve of superheros next to ornate oak), we had an even more interesting time just talking & catching up on life.

(P.S. The bathroom is never a safe place for a passport.)

Oh, if only the night ended there!

Dad & I finally drove back to our "hotel". (Remember how questionable it sounded in the beginning?) Upon arrival, we walked through the door, only to find out it was a restaurant.

Oh now, we were doomed! The address was wrong!!

NO, we weren't and no, it wasn't. 

A lady kindly escorted us through the restaurant to the back right side, where a foyer beheld a woman reclining by a computer. Ah, were we in luck?

Yes, in fact, we came to the right place. But, this 3-star "hotel" was structured by poured-concrete walls (or of the like) and faint lighting.

I booked it straight to our room, he- tired, and I- in DESPERATE need of a shower. 

(Mind you, we hadn't done that since flying in that afternoon.)

But wait! I opened the door, and-- BANG! 

I hit the wall.

Yes, my friends, I know I am the clumsy one, but I wasn't even escaping the smoke-stunk corridor when I walked in!

Turns out, .... the "hallway" in our room was less than a yard wide, due to a closet immediately to your right as you entered. After squeezing past that, with hefty-weighted luggage (with mainly my clothes), I thought the room was going to become something modest & nice for it's price past the "hallway".

It was a tad bit bigger than my room, with two twin beds, a T.V. and a bathroom w/ 2 towels. Plus a gaping tall window.

VERY modest.

Oh, and here's a funny note:

Dad suggested I not bring shower gel until we arrive, so as not to waste luggage weight with items we could buy in Europe.

So, here I enter, remembering that we have not yet bought soap of any sort.

Gross....

But, my mother, in secret, stashed some body wash in his bag. So, I considered it was better to smell like Eucalyptus & Mint than like tired sweat & greasy goulash.

(P.S. The lights turned on outside of the bathroom, 

so that was kinda awkward.)

(P.P.S. The door didn't have a lock. Even more awkward...)

So, day one ended with the women's Olympics on air with subtitles, no A/C air, and an open window where you could hear the airs of strolling loiterers past the willow-like trees.

The next day, we'd be in Praha a bit more before driving on to our next destination....

Getting There: Part 1 (One Year Ago Today - 08.08-09.2012)

Hehe. :]

So, I'm glad you read my previous post, "Before the Departure" (One Year Ago Today series - prologue).
I hope that didn't frustrate any of you. (angst would have me embittered by now.)

So, the first day... was Wednesday, August 8th, 2012.

Honestly, the first day is always the most boring to write about, because you talk about...... the airport.

Don't get me wrong:
I thoroughly enjoy being in an airport.
I would work at one.
Watch "The Terminal" and you'll understand my plight.

Yet, in comparison to the rest of the trip, it's not as exciting. But, I am glad I had a traveler journal with me, so as to write down my stories & moments, which I would otherwise forget. especially at the airport.
(I highly recommend some kind of journal wherever you go, so as to embrace the small moments later.) :)

5:00 a.m.

PDX
~Geometric green carpet, tattered to a blunt blueish tint.
~Five concourses that divide into an unfair "A, B, C", leaving "D, E" as the awkward couple. (They sound and even almost look alike.)
~Surpassing glass windows that make a mosaic of views from the security checkpoints.
~The workers.

The workers sometimes have either:
1) blind spots in their vision,                  or
2) a haste to finish talking with you the moment they ask you a question.

While Dad & I were in line to check-in our 2 hefty suitcases...
a lady from our airline dressed in sassy red approached us.

"Unaccompanied minor traveling?"

First of all, Dad is fully decked with airport gear. Meaning:
his head-rest is around the arm,
his passport & itinerary are held by hand,
his carry-on bag is slung over him...
and he looks like a traveling businessman with his authoritative disposition overall.

Second of all, did I look like a minor? Hmm....
Maybe my tid-bit feeble & freaked-out excited state transferred into "inexperienced young traveler" for her.

The moment we confusingly replied "No", she directed us to print our boarding passes from the booths. And, by her protocol, we accomplished the task (though, with at least 100 people in line, we felt terribly rushed).

After checking in, we scurried through the security check-point (my favorite part!)

"Pull out all electronic devices!"

"All liquids in a Zip-Lock bag, please!"

"Remove your shoes & belt, and place them into a container!"

The rush is the exciting part!

You never know if you'll get stopped for a full-on check.
It could all be the cause of a bobby-pin, ladies. ;)


Dad & I breakfasted at a tiny, Portland diner, and were served by the wonderful Bernadette.
(Bernadette: "brave as a bear")
Enough food to last us for the next 20 hours!
A country breakfast....yum.
Probably the last meal made completely by the help of chemicals.

Honestly, that continental flight was wonderful, yet so faded in my memory.

Why?
               We slept the whole flight. -_-


All I remember is stepping into JFK, and remembering how much I disliked it.

JFK
~Stench of 1980's Old Spice, old plastic, & old MacDonald's.
~People drooping on the ground, in their "attire" (chuh, puh - pajamas...) & with drooling faces.
~Chickadees swooping below the gates for scraps of travelers' snacks, carelessly crumbed about the cement from a rush to the next terminal.
~Stinky.
~Gross.
~Muggy.
~Outdated.

The only thing I really liked was the New Yorker accent of the cashiers. :)

"Thyat wood be fo'aive dallas, miss, fo' thuh m'yagahzeene."

Awesome...
(Just imagine someone speaking through their nose, too.)

While meandering around the indoor shops at JFK and waiting for our boarding, we decided that coffee was the only fuel to power us through our wait (plus some beef jerky).
So, lo & behold.... Starbucks.

Now, Pops likes to be funny sometimes (and that means, always).
So, while ordering some sort of sophisticated coffee that could be the cause of your ruined afternoon if you disappointingly made it wrong for my father, Pops decided to fake a name.

(Of course it's fun to fake a name, if it's something mysterious & intriguing...like Esmeralda or Jehoshaphat.)

"Sir, your name, please?"
   He get's funny with a deceiving grin. "My name is Papa."
"Babba?" She's so lost in her drooping eyes & fumbled hold on the Sharpie.
   "PAPA," he mouths widely.
"What is it??"
   "PAAAPA." The prolonged 'a' was meant to make it sound clearer, I assume.

At a loss for any more communication, it appeared that she heard the name & began to write it.
But guess what?

My Pops was now "Bob".

                                                                                Yes... Bob.

A name that I would never imagine for him.
He is antithetical to what Bob is & ever would be.

But he still drinks Bob's latte, because even if he is not Bob, Bob now owes him.

I imagine that if the barista actually checked his ID after he sipped from the cup, it could have been a joke-able case of identity [theft]².



As we continued meandering with Pop's minor, careless identity-crisis-of-a-coffee & my Tuchina-inspired Iced Coffee, I found a dashing pair of studly aviators, with a price as big as my paycheck.

But don't you think he looks studly in this pair? B)

We took it pretty easy afterwards, with the 4-hour layover.

We didn't want to spend much money (yet), but Dove seemed like a good snack compromise between wasabi peas & Pringles.



The next thing I remember was landing in Prague.
All those 7+ hours in between.....

...could be summarized like so:

Scrumptious Delta biscuit, with Ginger Ale.


They did feed us other ... things, but that combination is the whole reason why I still look forward to airplane food.


But, I can tell you this (from memory, the sunrise):

When the sky is blacker than pitch, it feels deeper, as an ocean of air.
Invisible, no waves, but all is blacked by the universe's darkest envelopment around us, only the pricks of the Big Dipper gliding before our sight.
But then the faintest glimmer of lighter violet streaks the horizon, a sharp hope growing thicker.

Then the layers come, a burning of color.
First, dark to light blue.
   Second, maroon to crimson.
      Third, faded orange, supporting a faint pale yellow.

Then, it all burns neon and grows rapidly into... the sunrise.


And then, when it felt most surreal, we landed in Prague. :]


(next post is Part 2)
 

Before the Departure (One Year Ago Today - prologue)

DAY ONE!!!!

It has finally come to post this. The time I've been waiting for!


Last year, I was soooo excited for this day, you have no idea.
I bet you have an idea, actually.

Ever been forever planning for something that you thought would never happen?
And then-
                IT HAPPENS??!
That accompanied feeling.... is what I had.
So, let's take a moment to share the excitement.
.
..
...
AH! :D

Okay, but now, let me tell you the background of how this trip happened, before it happened:


In September of 2011, for my 18th birthday, my father came up to me (after my 90's theme birthday party):

"Angelina, you have turned 18 now." (this is basically what he said.)
   "Yep, Dad. I'm an adult."
"You know, when Diana was 18, I took her to Europe..."
   "Dad, she was almost 18."
"Doesn't matter. Same month. Now...."

(notice how I completely missed the whole Europe part & went straight to how old my sister was??
Shows I really care about her, huh? ;] Or, that I miss relevant things completely)

"Now, Angelina, this is a special birthday, and we want to give you a special gift--"
   "What kind of gift?"
"Just listen. You have an option. Either, we can get you a car, or... we can go to Europe, the two of us."

Moment of silence ensued.

Mind boggled,
heart raced,
thoughts plundered by emotions....
then a bitter split of choice,

and my dad expectantly staring at me.


But, c'mon: was there really an option??

   "Mmm... let's go to Europe."

Now, I'm sure you know the conversation didn't end there, but what happened afterward can be essentially encompassed like so:

He said "deal", and it took us 11 months before we would fly out.

I mean, technically, it could almost have been considered my 19th birthday gift, since it was much closer than to my 18th.
Almost.

Now, since I was a college student & a senior in high school at the time, I could not afford to skip two weeks from any term. Going during Christmas-season would be difficult & less exciting for many reasons, but mainly for weather & jacked Christmas-sized price tags on everything. (But winter is a good off-season, nonetheless). So, my father and I actually began the logistics process in June to leave in July.

And quite funny, a few problems arose.


First, the Olympics. 

Usually, the Olympics are never a problem for anyone. (Except in 1980)
Now, for those of you who do not know, my father contributed to a Bronze Medal runner by literally making his shoes, 3 pairs to be exact. Yes, this supports my view of him as Shoe Genius (and I helped, too!)

We who watch the Olympics can pass the thought that all the Olympic finalizings happen from June to July, not in August, when it begins airing on T.V.

So, Dad was constantly busy and meeting shoe deadlines, while I half-wittingly took a month break from my amazing job at the PCC bookstore (apply if you want before terms start ;]), thinking July was the vacation month.


Second, my graduation(s).

Since the last few weeks of HS & college are always hectic, the whole idea of leaving in July failed, because I was meeting my own elementary (my dear Watson) deadlines in June!

First, it was the teenager luncheons at the public school, then it was the constant advisory meetings, then it was the actual ceremonies of long, digressive talkers who bid you well & hand over to you your worth in years, called "diploma" & "certificate of achievement".

Mind you, all of these achievements were satisfactory road blocks to planning for another satisfaction of a lifetime: Europe in 1st hand experience.


Third, my passport.

Hold the phone- what??? Yes, my passport was a problem.
This world traveler had an expiring passport?
ex·pire:

1.

to come to an end; terminate, as a contract, guarantee, or offer.

2.

to emit the last breath; die.

3.

to breathe out.

4.

to die out, as a fire.

pass·port:
1.

an official document issued by the government of a country to one of its citizens and, varying from country to country, authorizing travel to foreign countries and authenticating the bearer's identity,citizenship, right to protection while abroad, and right to reenter his or her native country.

...
3.

any authorization to pass or go somewhere.

So, basically:
                     My passport was about to be snuffed out and I could have lost reentry back home if we left to Europe without finding the problem. The Europeans might not have cared, but the Americans at our returning airports would have checked it out & told me to finish the problem overseas before I come back to the homeland.

Thank our good God that He opened our eyes the last week of July.
(He often works like that: our last minute, to depend on Him to control & fix the situation. Which, He did! :])


After all of these problems arising, Dad & I changed plans for a trip in August instead.

So, my month break at work was 'bout to turn into a 2-month hiatus, and I for sure felt that my wonderful boss was going to fire me (mmm, should I mention, that I had barely been working there for 6 months?)
(P.S. She still kept me! Probably because I brought back Swiss chocolates)

Now, how the problems were resolved:

First, the Olympic shoes were shipped off! Yay!
Second, I finished my graduations! Yay!

Third, calls for a story: (yay?)

So, the last week of July, we find out my passport expires in August.
By safety regulations, you should not travel within your 6 months of your passport expiration.
I was flying out the next week. I needed the Seattle Passport Agency.

I called them Wednesday, August 1st. No help.
I called them Thursday, August 2nd. They said help could come in 2 weeks.
I was hopeless.

Dad called them Thursday, August 2nd. After the phone call, he approached me:

"Angelina, you have to be at the agency at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. Find someone to drive with you. Grab your documents, and when you arrive, ask for this person." (my memory cannot recollect the name)

I mean, how does he DO this?? I tried calling them for 2 days, multiple times, and I get nothing.
He calls them ONCE and gets me connections.

I thank God for my genius father.

I call my dear friend, Larisa, that afternoon, and ask for her to come on an emergency trip to Seattle with me the next day.
(Wouldn't it always be lovely to have an emergency trip to Seattle? :]]])

And bada-bing-bada-boom: I went to Wal-Greens for 1-hour photo & was over at her house with blessings & important papers by that evening.

At 4:30 a.m., we booked it straight to Seattle, just us two & our devious minds. If the whole trip just encompassed the need for a new passport, I would tell you that my nerves freaked me out all day, as God taught me to be patient & trust in His wisdom, not my own.
(And I did receive my passport that afternoon.)

But because we were in Seattle, we had some fun in our spare time while waiting...

... and God also taught me to be thankful for patient friends.

The whole time we were waiting in line at the agency, I kept telling Larisa:

"What if they don't accept my papers or I forgot a document and we have to go all the way back home?? I won't get it in time!"

She kept calming me with a patient rebuke:

"Ange, trust in God. Don't let your unstable feelings guide you. You brought all you needed, and now, we just trust God to finish this process. Worrying won't help you in any way."

Thank you, Larisa, for being so dear & real to me. :]


Anyway, to finish up:

God solved all of the problems, and Dad's promise to take me to Europe was about to unravel in 5 days.


So now, back to the beginning.... how the first day of the trip started....

Read my next post! :D

Sneakish Peekish

So, here's a sneak peek of Europe's treasures.

Have any ideas where the pictures were taken?

If you do, I'd enjoy hearing your guesses in the comments below!

And keep a look-out for these pictures in the following posts. :]

(P.S. Formatting pictures to a blog is hard!)