When kids set out across Europe in their college years, staying in a hostel is one of the rights of passage that everyone must endure. Doing research, filtering out the good from the bad, trying to read in languages that you may not be familiar with, and trying to map out locations and public transportation are all integral parts of the hostelling experience. Some people also express trepidation at first, not keen to get away from the sterile predictability of a hotel. So, I’m going to quickly go over the basics of hostels, illustrated by the best hostel I ever stayed in, even though it was a little strange. more…
Archive for the Category »Travel Stories «
One important subset of travel is the journey. Set out paths that have been travelled by thousands, even millions before. Religion often plays a strong part in this, assigning virtue to those who perform a pilgrimage, and even requiring it of those who are able (The Hajj). The most famous religious pilgrimage, however, remains the road to Santiago. more…
This is part 3 in the ongoing series detailing my first trip to Europe in the Winter of 2005-2006. This may only interest some readers, be assured, regular posts will be coming. I am transitioning the blog to a different posting schedule, so there might be some hiccups until it gets ironed out. Thanks for reading! more…
As I said in my earlier post, my travel addition didn’t start until college. However, I did have a few travel experiences before then. My father, an international businessman, didn’t care for travel with us because he did so much of it for work. For him, JFK-FRA meant seven hours of bad sleep and being thousands of miles away from his family. Not surprisingly, he preferred to take vacations closer. But we did have a few adventures, outside of my yearly trips to Miami. And adventures is a good way to put them. My father’s style of travelling is not “lay on the beach,” but to seek out and find things, to explore, and to see things off the beaten track. more…
This is part II of an ongoing series of posts detailing my Winter 2006 Grand Tour. Part I is available here.
The plane touched down, and we stood in the customs line. My passport was brand new, and the first stamp in it was placed by the Heathrow customs agent. As we walked through the airport, I kept looking for examples and evidence that I was in a different place; that I was no longer home. Electrical receptacles, of course, and then we finally got to the London Underground terminal at the airport. My father had changed some money, so we bought our tickets, jumped on the underground and finally made our way to the hotel at Maida Vale. more…

