Cities of Europe

17 May 2012
Posted by Marisa
Marisa's picture
Posted by Marisa
Marisa's picture

Europe: Reminiscing Sofia Top 10 Photos Belgrade Top 10 Photos Sarajevo Top 10 Photos Zagreb Top 10 Photos Budapest Top 10 Photos Vienna Top 10 Photos Prague Top 10 Photos Berlin Top 10 Photos Amsterdam Top 10 Photos Belgium Top 10 Photos Belgium Top 10 Photos Belgium Top 10 Photos Paris Top 10 Photos Versailles Top 10 Photos England Top 10 Photos Sofia Photos Belgrade Photos Sarajevo Photos Zagreb Photos Budapest Photos Vienna Photos Prague Photos Berlin Photos Amsterdam Photos Bruges Photos Ghent Photos Brussels Photos Paris Photos Versailles Photos Oxford Photos When I Shared Fruit With Smugglers Unfortunate Belgrade Superhome I'm Almost a Vampire Not So Hungary in Hungary Some Things We Did in Vienna It's Really Cold in Prague and Other Thoughts More Than an Invisible Line Standing on the Edge Amsterdam Hearts for Belgium Death By Food The Disney Effect A Sightseeing Quandry A Star Spangled Punting Picnic The Movie Event of a Generation

Europe: Reminiscing

14 Sep 2011
Posted by Jordan
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I am sitting in compartment B on an unremarkable train in one of Serbia’s minor outlying villages, somewhere along its twisting eastern border. I share the compartment with my sleeping wife (face mirror-like with sweat), two backpackers from Australia, and two older Serbian women. Marisa and I were originally meant to be in the compartment next door, but when we embarked the train early this morning in Belgrade our reserved seats had been claimed, along with their attending four, by six burly men who informed us that paid reservations were not particularly meaningful in “this country.”

Just as well, as our companions in compartment B have been perfectly amicable, if not particularly sedentary. Since joining the train about an hour back, the two Serbian women have been fidgeting almost constantly: now rising to rearrange their baggage (they have lots of it); now shoeing us out of our seats so they can stand on them to better reach the overhead luggage racks; now looking out the window; now navigating through tangles of legs to peek out the door. Since stopping at the border, they have been particularly disinclined to sit still.  Just now one of them gives me a wink after standing on the seat next to me in order to stuff a black bag up behind my backpack; should I be worried?

Perhaps the fidgeting is brought on by the heat. Supposedly 102 degrees outside, it’s probably a little hotter in here: the sun has been beating in for some time, and only a shoestring breeze finds its way through the crack in the window that I’ve managed to prop open with the rocks; like all the windows on this train, it’s ingeniously made to spring shut if nobody’s holding it down. Behind the rock and the crack in the window is a ticket office plastered in Coca-Cola stickers; the images of ice-cold refreshment seem at this moment unnecessary, and cruel. And so I sit and dream of ice as we wait for border control, and permission to continue on into Bulgaria.

In some ways things have changed quite a lot since the start of our European journey… then it was cold and overcast; then the trains moved faster and went further; then ice-cold refreshments and air-conditioned compartments were a consistent reality (even if made unnecessary by the cold weather); then trains left on time, and seat reservations meant something more. But the scenery then had not been as spectacular, the countryside had not felt as close, and those train rides on balance had not been as memorable.

2011.08.29 - Belgrade to Sofia

Waiting to depart from Belgrade station.

Then there are the things that have remained constant as we’ve trekked across the continent. Namely Coca-Cola. A significant irony as there were few things Europeans feared more, wanted less, or were more unified in protesting in 1947 (when Coke opened its first bottling plants in France), than the “Coca-Colonisation” of the continent. This I have learned from Tony Judt’s fat book on Europe, Postwar, a history since 1945. Fat books are good for long train rides; this one has lasted through several.

Which makes me consider my trip now that I’m here at the end, in the sun, on these last tracks, waiting for a final stamp in my passport. In a few days the traveling part of my oh-so-weird project will come to an end… after more than three-hundred days on the road, seventy of those spent here in Europe, I will halt in Amman and make games. Routine, something which seems remote and imaginary--even exotic--from my current position in space-time, will enter my life again. In Amman I will wake, take a shower, sit down at a desk, and spend the rest of my day hitting keys with my fingers in an attempt to bring ones and zeros to life. What will my binary daydreams be like then? What will I remember of all this?

Oxford. Port Meadow and Ot Moor and all the fabulous spaces sprinkled ‘round the shire. There aren’t spaces like those where I’m going. There aren’t spaces like those where I’ve been. Spaces to walk through freely no matter who owns the land, spaces to breathe in, spaces where the first dinosaurs were dug up and named.


Port Meadow, Oxfordshire.

Communal living at Darvell. Walking down a path that first night and coming upon two octogenarians examining craters in the moon. Songs and dances, vegetables and discussions of faith… everyone happy to see us, everyone glowing like Moses.

2011.07.11 - Darvell

View from our room at Darvell; welcome cards and cookies in the foreground.

Game-jamming at Cambridge. Meeting Stephen and Terry and Alan and all those friendly indies. Testing games and speaking code, and having people understand.

2011.07.16 - Cambridge

Jamming hard in Cambridge.

Paris in the rain. That apartment with its small balcony and graphic novel of Genesis, so exactly like my preconception of what a Parisian apartment should be like, yet tactile and thick with history. The Louvre being too big to look at, and too good for English. The Eiffel Tower hiding away till we found it and jumped. Competing with Karith and Marisa to find invaders.


An invaders spotted in Paris. Marisa found that one.

The names of people in Belgium, sounding as friendly as they were; Hucky Gillen and Inge Hernie. Talks about Afghanistan, and going back there. Following Inge to a fake beach on the river where we waited for the sun to set, then froze to death while watching Once Upon a Time In Mexico on a giant outdoor screen. Chasing down building-sized comic strips in Brussels. Drinking hot cocoa at the Grande Place and thinking that it was, and is, the best old square in Europe. Learning that everything French is Belgian. Finding Magritte, and Saint Bavo Cathedral: the church I most want to go back to. Eating baklava with Tale of Tales.


One of Brussels' many comic strip murals.

Meeting our landlord in Amsterdam, whose vast collection of old computer games bonded us instantly. Finding my favorite painting in the world and staring at it for an hour: the real thing so much more vivid and quiddative than its many reproductions. Cars that made Smart models look fat.

Van Gogh Museum Amsterdam 223

Van Gogh's Sunflowers.

Berlin, the seat of the middle of Europe: how it brought home all the wars I’d been reading about in a way that stayed with me through the rest of our trip. Pieces of wall, Checkpoint Charlie; half a century of a divided country, continent, and world.  


View from Berlin Tower. The Reichstag can be seen in the distance.

Staying with Petr Kotouš in the Czech Republic; talking about computer games and poetry; introducing him to the indie scene while he introduced me to walking beer. Sitting with Marisa on Castle Hill, watching a rainbow come out after the rain, and thinking that Prague was perhaps the most beautiful city we’d been to. Smoulove craziness in the old town square… a craziness that followed us everywhere in Europe.


View of Prague from Castle Hill.

The architecture of Vienna: elegant, bold, and regal. Discovering Hundertwasser, his rejection of straight lines, his proposal of tree tenants. Coffee and streusel, schnitzel and cake.



Budapest. St. Stephen’s Basilica, with its interior almost too golden to look at, and the withered hand of Hungary’s first king off in a corner, sitting there in the dark till someone dropped fifty cents to light it with neon. Hiking through the heat of the city, then wandering into a cave church and feeling the cool air wash over us as we listened to a mass begin. Talking into the night with Ildiko and Peter Rozsovits about everything from color theory to Nazi occupation… an occupation still evidenced by bullet holes in the house where we stayed, a house built by Ildiko’s father, which had once been far out in the countryside though now its surrounded by city.


Interior of St. Stephen's Basilica.

Leaving tourists and air-conditioned trains behind as we headed towards Zagreb. Meandering through Mirogoj cemetery and feeling no disappointment at its beauty, though I had been warned that it was one of the world’s most impressive burial grounds. Stumbling into a Franciscan church on the way home that wasn’t marked on our map as anything special, yet turned out to be one of the best churches I’ve ever been in: not giant, but splendid--while somehow still humble and earthy; no sound but the gentle rustle of robes as a priest went about his duties; no light but the rainbows cast by stained birds and fishes and beasts of the field. And next door the city cathedral, once considered the furthest reach of Western Christianity; thick walls were built to defend it from Turks, if it came to that.


Ban Jelacic Square, Zagreb.

Being picked up at the train station in Sarajevo by an ancient man in an ancient Citroën that was easily twice my age. Getting to our hostel, sitting down in the garden, and listening to the owner talk for two hours about the history of his people, a people nearly snuffed out in the ethnic war that ended only fifteen years ago. “Nobody cared,” he told us, “Not the EU, not the UN… only America saved us.” The first time in my life I had heard (in first-person) a non-American speak in favor of any kind of U.S. military action overseas.


Cemetery for victims of the four year siege of Sarajevo during the Bosnian War, just around the corner from our hostel.

Then only two days ago there was a night in Belgrade with our couch surfing hosts and their friends… some beers and some laughs, and Vladimir playing his trumpet. Walking by the biggest people I’ve ever seen as we strolled through city streets. Sitting on a piece of old fortress and watching the sun set where the Sava and the Danube meet. Waiting as lights turned on, and young people came out to play basketball beneath those same old fortress walls. Sleeping, then boarding a last train.


Night basketball in Belgrade.

And now here we are at Bulgaria’s border.

And now something funny has happened.

Across from me one of our Serbian friends has pulled up her shirt just slightly, and is unwrapping from around her waist a nylon stocking which she’s tied there. And in the stocking are packs of cigarettes. And now the other woman pulls down the black bag that she hid behind my backpack earlier. More cigarettes. They continue reaching into their clothes.

The police have come and gone, with passport control, and now all along the train people are scurrying madly, jamming fingers into secret holes, sticking arms up to elbows between places that really shouldn’t have a between. And all of the holes, and all the betweens contain cigarettes: packs and packs, cartons and cartons. It looks like Marisa and I, and the Australian couple in our compartment may very well be the only people on the whole train who didn’t depart Belgrade as smugglers.

As we start our slow chug towards Sofia the train settles down; indeed, the women in our compartment have undergone a remarkable transformation since recovering their last treasures from pant legs: they sit still now, and smile contentedly while chatting quietly together. I can’t help but smile contentedly myself. I started writing this piece with some idea of having a grand reflection, of getting at the meaning of the trip, the meaning of travel, the meaning of Europe and me. And I’ve failed to do anything but reminisce. But right now that’s enough for me. Right now this train ride is enough for me.


Towards Sofia...

Related slideshows:


11 Sep 2011
Posted by Marisa
Marisa's picture

 Let's have a quick jump across Europe.




Jumping in Brussels


Jumping in Bruges


Jumping in Berlin


Jumping in Prague


Jumping in Vienna


Jumping in Budapest


Jumping in Zagreb


Jumping in Sarajevo


Jumping in Belgrade


Jumping in Sofia

Smurf Takeover

05 Sep 2011
Posted by Marisa
Marisa's picture

One of the most unifying things as we traveled across Europe this summer was the takeover of the Smurf movie. Everywhere we looked we could see blue. The weirdest thing about it, was despite Smurf being a made-up word, most countries seemed to enjoy making up their own word for small, blue creatures.

















Czech totally wins.

They seemed to know it too, because in Prague they had so much love for their smous that they filled their old square with a giant blue ball and people, do you see them, dressed accordingly.


Posted by Marisa
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It was really cold the first day we were in Prague. See:


I am wearing all the clothes in my bag.

Also, sometimes the ceilings are rather low.


It's a colorful city with walls of grafitti


And rainbows sometimes too.


They have a house that dances


And the costumes of their palace guards were created by a Hollywood designer.


And they really have a lot of great views.


Next Stop...

20 Jun 2011
Posted by Marisa
Marisa's picture

Our days in Asia our numbered, 4 to be exact. And the next stop is Europe. The following plan is what happens when you are confronted with a map of many places you have imagined, yet never been to and have to decide which ones to visit. 

Europe Plan

It still looks manageable when you look at it like this. Everything in Europe seems trickily close together and so you make the above plan. Then you put in on the calendar and realize that we were in Southeast Asia for 7 months and saw 3.5 countries. And now we are planning to see 12 countries in about 1.5 months. Hopefully we will not die from exhaustion. Likely at the end we will sleep for 1 week. 

A few more notes on the trip. We are actually flying to England on Thursday where we will spend a week traveling aimlessly, seeing a few people, possibly Jordan's sister if she sees fit to respond to our emails. Then we are spending two weeks at a Christan community in southern England. After a few days visiting some game developers in Cambdridge for a Game Jam we will be starting our trip to continental Europe on what looks to be July 18th. We were really hoping to continue overland from Istanbul to Amman, Jordan, our final destination, but it looks like traveling through Syria is an unlikely possibility. Upon arriving in Amman in the middle of September we plan to stay put there, perhaps until summer time.

And amazingly that is our life plan beyond just tomorrow, which should make my mother rest a bit easier. 

Posted by Marisa
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After two wonderful weeks in Ljubljana, Jordan and I are preparing for the long flight back to Korea tomorrow.  Our first week here had excellent fall sunshine and changing leaves, our second week has seen mostly rain and clouds.  But you can hardly complain about the weather when the country is so cute and sells cheese in the supermarket. 

If you are looking for a place that is idyllic then you should come to Slovenia.  They have no ugly parts.  And my parents have a giant guest apartment where you can make a mess and no one will know. 

Great sites of Slovenia include:

Lake Bled











and my parent's house


 For more pictures, click here.

Posted by Marisa
Marisa's picture

We're on the final leg of our Turkey trip. We're currently ensconced at a rather nice hotel on the Mediterranean in Southern Turkey. The hotel offers buffets all day and stunning views of the water, in between which we are doing our web design work.

Fairy Chimneys

We finished a two day tour of Cappadocia, an area in central Turkey known for its unusual rock formations and cave dwellings. The scenery was quite fantastic, it's low season since it's cold and often snowy, but snow always lends a magical quality to any scene, and places that are already named after fairies take on an other world feeling. The seemingly carefully eroded Fairy Chimneys of Cappadocia take on various shapes, like rabbits, camels and Napolean's hat. We toured cave dwellings used by early Christians as monasteries, dug into the strange rock formations in order to hide and protect them from their persecutors. The Christians were eventually joined by the Muslims and you can see churches side by side with mosques, all dug into the rock and often painted with frescoes of scenes from the Bible (as our tour guide said, the story of Abraham is in the Koran too, it's just different). We also visited an entire underground city that was dug by hand several stories into the earth. Safe from invaders and cold weather, the people slept, cooked and made wine below the surface. Walking around in this underground city was like experiencing a location right out of a fantasy novel. Driving around Cappadocia was like being in another world; many locals still use the caves for storage, work or living. Everywhere you go you can see doors dug into the rock, including the hotel we stayed in.

Is that a camel?

Our hotel room was a converted cave, made quite comfortable by beds, heat and running water. We enjoyed spectacular breakfasts (the traditional Turkish breakfast is bread, cheese, tomatoes and cucumbers, a far cry from the Korean breakfast of rice and kimchi) and were amazed by the fact that the cave had wireless. The hotel animals were quite friendly. We were joined by a dog one evening as we sat outside playing backgammon, and a fancy white cat was determined that it should be living in our hotel room and made its way under our beds several times, even meowing loudly outside the door to be let in.

Cat Watcher

Our picture collections are just about finished, so be sure to check them out. The Istanbul set has had many recent additions.


more pictures

18 Feb 2009
Posted by Marisa
Marisa's picture

We have some more pictures up.  Check them out.

Topkapi Palace 17

Click on the picture to see more.

Istanbul Mini Update

17 Feb 2009
Posted by Jordan
Jordan's picture

Just a mini update to say that Istanbul is indeed a cool city, and we are having a lot of fun here. A few of the highlights so far:

  • Eating $1.30 doner kebap on the street (the best shawarma I have ever had) while sipping fresh-squeezed orange-apple-carrot juice.
  • Sampling a mixed kebap platter at a nearby cafe, with live Turkish zither music playing in the background.
  • Following up the kebap with a game of backgammon, as the locals start singing along to the music.
  • Eating all the Turkish Delight we can stomach while watching late-night (9pm) Star Trek.
  • Walking the streets in the rain (not like there's another option: it's been raining every day).
  • Heading into the grand bazaar with no map and no plan, not caring if we ever make it out or not.
  • Being rinsed and scrubbed and massaged with scalding water in a 500 year old Byzantine bath.
  • Drinking Turkish Apple Tea while discussing travel and teaching with a recent Teach for America volunteer who's traveling around the world before starting grad school in Michigan.
  • Eating our hostel-provided Turkish-style breakfast every day: fresh baguette, cucumbers, tomatoes, cheeses, meats, and olives, with jams and nuttella also available.
  • Trying out a few of the famous Turkish Mezes (appetizers) at a famous restaurant in the new downtown.
  • Talking with our hostel room-mate, a Malaysian doctor, about his multinational Chinese-Malay heritage.
That's not a comprehensive list by any means, but rather a few of the things that come to mind. Our style is to explore and site-see in a laid-back fashion, interspersing tea time as we desire it.

P.S. Our internet connection is not the fastest here, so we've been having some technical difficulties uploading our photos... if they appear lopsided, or incomplete, or ugly, or they're not there, that's why.

Istanbul Pictures

15 Feb 2009
Posted by Jordan
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Blue Mosque

Our photos are up. Click here to view the complete (and expanding) collection.

Posted by Marisa
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Enjoy this short video, and give a shout out to my Dad and his special skills.


A glance of Istanbul

14 Feb 2009
Posted by Jordan
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"If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul."

So said Alphonse de Lamartine, French poet and politician, of the city which was then the capital of the Ottoman Empire. Napolean Bonaparte, who had similarly strong feelings about the city, supposedly said that "if the earth were a single state, Istanbul would be its capitol." This from the man who tried to conquer the world for France? (who was, by the way, average height for his day.)

Istanbul is one of those cities that makes you catch your breath before you even arrive there--at least if you're a student of history. The depth and breadth of this city's experience is second to none: at the intersection of two continents and two seas, two hemispheres, and two of the world's great religions, Istanbul is a microcosm of the world itself.

Today was but a glance of the city, but it was a glance that left an impression. In general, most cities that I have ever visited fall into one of three categories: those that one can grow to love, those that will mostly be forgotten, and thost that impress me instantly as being, for lack of a more comprehensive and ellegant word, "cool" Cool. Cairo fits into the first category, most cities into the second, and a handfull of cities--Vienna, Quebec, perhaps Istanbul--fall into the third.

We visited Sultanahmet (the Blue Mosque) and Ayasofya today, and took some really cool pictures (to overuse the word). They're still uploading, so you'll have to wait 'till tomorrow to see what we saw.