The best thing about meeting expats is the promise of housing when you visit their home country. Unfortunately, this was not the case for the Netherlands. Although we tried, this is also a lesson to not rely on someone else when you can do it yourself. We were still very grateful for the offer and sentiment. With that aside, I can honestly say that Amsterdam was not my cup of tea. Whether it be the lack of legitimate cafes for real caffeine or the narrow roads that catered to cyclists instead of pedestrians, this “Venice of the North” left much to be desired.
Or so the song goes. The Chainsmokers never ceases to amaze me by simultaneously dumbing me down and making me happy about it. Regardless of your opinion of the EDM group, you have to recognize their knack for churning out catchy songs. Or cute Instagram captions. Either or.
This would be my second time visiting the City of Light, but Paris looked a little different this time around. I’m going to preface this post with “unpopular opinion”, so cut me some slack if I rained a little on your Parisian parade. If you had asked twelve year old Grace of her opinion of Paris, then it would have been quite different.
I realize that some of these trips are not in order. If you look at my personal calendar, which predates all the way back to August 2013, I have every major trip, class, test, meeting, and breakdown documented in my files. The previous post talked about Munich, but in reality, I went to Basel the weekend before! Perhaps I’ll start adding actual dates to these entries?
Regardless of my disorganization on this front, Basel was definitely one of the most spontaneous trips I took during my exchange. The night before departure, some of my friends and I wanted to take a day trip just to get out of Zürich. Same night, we were out till 3:00 partying on Langstrasse. So in our less-than-sober selves, Brandon, Will, Zach, and I, simultaneously bought Supersaver tickets to Basel.
Thus, not at the crack of dawn and closer to noontime, the four of us scurried to Zürich HB in spite of our throbbing heads. With little foresight on our activity, we followed our guiding saviour, Zach, and his supreme ability to navigate TripAdvisor, among other things. Stepping out of the main train station, we all concluded that Basel could be mistaken as Zürich 2.0. However, I would come to find my original interpretation of Swiss cities to be incorrect later in my travels. Our expat ignorance assimilated all trams and tramlines to be a defining factor in all Swiss cities. If you looked up on any major street, you’d see the thin wire that acts like a red string of fate, weaving the arteries of the town.