And I should say the dead of night. Thing is, St Andrews is truly a quiet town — us students, generally, bring the party. But at some point even the most late-night partiers crash, inebriated and overfull with toasties or cheesy chips or doner kebabs, into the soporific safe haven of what may or may not be their own bed. Once they’re out like a sack of rocks, the world pauses: they’re gone, as are the cyclists, cars, delivery trucks and vans, coffee shop go-getters, pub crawlers, red robes, beach-dwellers, hikers, dogs, old Scotsmen, seagulls (sometimes), wind. And all those places, the coffee shops, pubs, restaurants, Market Street shops, even the toastie bar and library and Empire, are shut down for the night.
‘Where even is Luxembourg?’ I asked myself when my friend first invited me to visit her home. I am always up for an adventure, and I love to experience new cultures and places, but this country was one that I couldn’t even pinpoint on a map. But now, after spending a long girls’ weekend there, I just want to go back and experience this tiny country all over again.
Before I went to Madrid, I expected what I had experienced in Barcelona, which was lots of sangria drinking and paella eating. When I decided to travel to Spain again, I knew that I should add Madrid to my itinerary but had no idea what to expect.
This past Spring Break, the dates aligned perfectly for this tourist-y American to finally go to Ireland for St. Patty’s Day! (I say Patty’s and others say Paddy’s, but who knows the right way to spell it…) Because I had never been to Ireland before, my friends and I wanted a few days before and after the trip to see this beautiful country. Even if you can’t make it this semester, any time of year is perfect. I’ve written out my suggestions to have the best holiday in the east coast of Ireland!
Just like going to the cinema or eating alone, traveling alone is still seen as taboo; and I really don’t understand why! I love traveling with my family and friends when I can, but there is something so special about traveling alone. I recently took a solo train-trip through Switzerland and had a great time. If you follow my six tips when planning your next trip alone, you’ll be sure to have the best time.
Along the entire way to the University of Arkansas I’ve got The Count of Monte Cristo playing at 1.25x speed. 47 hours of material, of which, by the time I’m pulling out of my driveway, I have 17 hours left. 5.5 hours of driving projected by Maps and the car’s a-rumble with the sonority of John Lee’s narration. Ma foi, I could listen to him say French words all day.
In the past two years or so, the rate of tourists packing their bags and flying toward the beautiful rocky beaches and tall pine trees of Croatia has skyrocketed. The blue skied country has moved from almost criminally underrated to crawling with college students craving a good time and retired couples in their 60’s alike.
Boots scurry through volcanic gravel. A sliding door slams. The engine rumbles, the van lurches forward – and so the journey begins. Before me I see scrubland worming up through black volcanic fields, mountain ranges wildly stripped of green, waterfalls gushing from stunted valleys, lagoons littered with sky-blue chunks of ice, and ponds so still and so clear that they are mirrors to an inverted world – one where the sky or a mountain crag hangs upside-down.
Eighty kilometres of jackknives, hairpins, switchbacks, dips, and blind summits wind through the treeless glens along the Isle of Skye’s northernmost peninsula. The Trotternish Loop — a more poetic title for the serpentining sprawl of the A87 — is, despite my descriptors to the contrary, a forgiving stretch of asphalt for someone who has never driven on the left side of the road in his life.
Whether you are reading this at your desk, slowly disappearing beneath a pile of aesthetically pleasing yet functionally useless revision notes, or frantically clutching a coffee cup in some uninhabitable, oxygen-starved corner of the library – allow me to provide some momentary relief.