The more that time passes, the more I feel empowered with each decision I make that checks off the following:
I am doing something I love, or if it is something I’ve never tried before, I’m giving it my best effort to make it something I love.
I am putting myself first—my wants, my needs—absolutely first.
I am able to share experiences with others—relationships old and new—to create memories I’d rather keep than fancy, expensive materials.
My recent trip to Austria (Vienna and Salzburg) checked off all of this and much more, which is probably why it was one of my most favorite trips of 2023 to-date. It wasn’t Austria that made it perfect: while it was a great backdrop, the reasons I went were what made the trip so wonderful.
Through it all, I emerged like a phoenix, stronger and better than before, while still allowing myself to grow. Finally landing my dream job (at least related to financial stability and my educational background, lol) has helped me to finance a lot of the things I’ve been doing and planning as of late. And that includes travel. I know that not everyone can make “short and frequent” trips across the globe as they wish, so I am grateful for a salary and life situation (i.e. no kids) that bolsters a lifestyle where I can put myself first.
My new Viennese friends
Since I work for a company that offers an amazing time-off plan (vacation days along with personal days), my boss encouraged me to use the personal days I had accumulated since my recent hire for time off in 2023, rather than dip into my vacation days since those could roll over into the next year. Thanksgiving break (normally the fourth Thursday and Friday in November) was the perfect opportunity to head back to Europe, almost seven months since my departure.
Coffee break at Dorotheum Cafe
To be honest, I would not have visited Austria on my own. In a lot of ways, I feel “Europe’d out”, in the sense that if you visit a region frequently enough, it all starts to blend together and feel boring, I went for my dear friend Glenis (check out her Pour the Coffee episode!), one of the few souls I bonded with during my time in Italy, since we both faced challenges during our time there. I was looking forward to seeing her, and learning why Austria was able to capture her heart and become her new home in just a matter of months!
There were a few curious critics who didn’t understand why I’d make such a “long” trip for only a “short” time. “Aren’t you going to visit your family for Thanksgiving?” was the main question I had to respond to while secretly rolling my eyes. One of the reasons I’m glad to be based home again is because I can see my family any time I want. Now, a three hour drive will fix any domestic homesickness I have, versus when I was living in Italy and felt obligated to use my Christmas and summer holidays to spend 2-3 weeks with my Dad especially.
Vegan schnitzel at IKEA!
Like I said earlier, I’m grateful for factors that allow me to “pick up and go”, as I acknowledge most people can’t. But for me, three days in Austria was plenty, and it was an effective way to 1) take advantage of a national holiday break, 2) see my dear friend again after many months, and 3) travel to a new country and visit new cities.
In the three full days I spent on Austrian soil, Glenis and I spared no minute. We talked, laughed, explored, ate, drank, and reminisced on how much our lives have changed in less than a year, in mostly good ways.
View from the rooftop
Highlights from the trip included:
Ditching a walking tour halfway to go exploring on our own, only to discover a unique art gallery and associated café, where we met an amazingly kind server and coffee-break’d with some of Austrian’s oldest—don’t ask me why we were the only millennials in Dorotheum’s coffee shop 😅.
Eating dinner at IKEA near Westbahnhof (twice, lol) and being the only two people in the entire IKEA cafeteria to receive chocolates from Santa.
Cracking ourselves up at Motzart’s museums in Salzburg: who knew two modern-day women in their early thirties could resonate so much with a musical prodigy of the 1700s who ended up a fumbling gambler with approximately 42,000 euros in debt, lol 😶.
Using the metro, tram, and European trains again, remembering to be thankful for the convenience a car provides.
Poking fun at the Italian influences while reconnecting my German language neurons—my passive high school German still seemed pretty fresh!
Tons of inside jokes and deep belly laughs—absolute tons 💕.
Free candy from Santa lol
Three days was just enough for me for this particular trip, but it is always difficult to say goodbye to a good friend, not knowing when the next time we will reunite will be. This is one of the reasons why I don’t mind traveling for others, if I can afford it. It’s something I mentioned to Glenis and to others in recent times: if someone I know from outside the US is coming to the US, I will gladly hop on a plane and make a meet-up happen, regardless of the city they will be in. Likewise, I now try to tell anyone I know in a region I’m planning travel to that I’m coming, in case they can meet up with me.
This sounds like a lot of work, and I guess that explains how far I will go to keep relationships I’ve created alive. I know most don’t see it as a priority, feeling content with the 2-3 main people in their local lives and maybe the occasional invite to the destination wedding of a college roommate. For what I’ve experienced, my view on travel makes sense for me, even if it is not the norm. And hey, it also makes me an amazing friend if you wish to have me as one 😏😉.
While it would be great to have a friend in every country on the planet to help guide me, as well as provide good company, I know there may be places I may have to venture to on my own. Sometimes it’s easier to book the tickets and go versus coordinating schedules and budgets, even if that means sacrificing a shared experience with a good friend or loved one.
A Texan in Salzburg—❄❄❄ the picture does not reflect how cold I was!! ❄❄❄
Next year, I plan to travel for work of course, but I also hope to squeeze in more trips to see old friends or friends I’ve connected with virtually, but have not met in person yet. It would be amazing to check off new countries, let alone new continents—Australia, Africa, and South America are still places that I have yet to explore.
Ending my “short” stay in Salzburg
I’m used to living a life not normal by any standards, and I love it. Cheers to many more travels, on my own terms ❣
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Back in August, my sister and I traveled to Hawaii for the very first time. Our island selection was purely based on which was cheapest to fly into on our selected dates from Austin, Texas—travel planning at its finest 😂.
Lucky for us, one of Hawaii’s most beautiful islands—Kauai—was the “cheap” one to fly into from the bunch. When I started sharing our travel plans with others, everyone who had been could not stop commenting on the jungle lure and true South Pacific vibes this particular island had to offer.
Even with the hype, my sister and I still waited until a few days before to finalize our itinerary, and given the nature of my job at the time, I was remote working for part of the trip. Despite all of this, we had no complaints, but there were moments I couldn’t help but mock regarding our so-called “vacation life”.
Read on as I poke fun at our adventures, as “lazy girls in Hawaii” 🤙
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Rent a car under your name, but have your sister drive you around because you get “chronic headaches” and super sleepy after meals. I am the worst traveler in that my body malfunctions and/or shuts down during travel. I used to be able to knock-out on planes as a kid, but the smaller seats and barbarians who like to recline their seat way too far prevent me from accumulating precious sleep hours. Instead, I arrive to my destination with jet-lag induced headaches super hungry, and upon eating my first meal, I can feel my eyes start to droop. Definitely not safe if you need to drive around, so thank goodness for my travel partner sister, lol.
We got “upgraded” to a bigger car. It definitely was roomy and it did have good AC, which was super important for us lol.
Participate in Kauai Humane Society’s dog field trip program by selecting the oldest, least energetic dog, only to have him pee on your beach umbrella. In my defense, I wanted to take out their cattle dog. but he got snatched up right away. I also didn’t want to push it since my energy levels were pretty low after a long day spent at the beach, fully exposed to all the UV, the day before. Brockstein seemed great for a while…until I decided to take a break in the water and leave him with my sister for ten minutes. Of course he had to relieve himself on the beach umbrella and our only towel, of course…
Nah, but he was a sweet soul. It pains me every time I see a senior dog at the shelter, knowing that the likelihood of them being adopted and living their final years in a home with a loving family is statistically low :/. Out of all the things we did in Kauai, I highly recommend incorporating this into your itinerary.
Stock up on local snacks to save money and take a break from the few vegan-friendly places on the entire island. The one thing I did do research on prior to our trip was the vegan foodie scene. Kauai does have a couple of intriguing vegan cafes and restaurants. Our favorite ended up being The Spot close to where we were staying (Princeville), which offered all sorts of intriguing foods and drinks, including an acai bowl that was drenched with macadamia butter—my sister loved that.
When our wallets needed a break, we trekked to some of the local markets and kept an eye out for snacks in the $2-3 range (that’s cheap by Hawaiian standards). These Noms snacks and of course, Hawaiian Host chocolates featuring macadamia, were sensible choices.
Use work meetings as an excuse to have your sister get breakfast for you—hey, give her your credit card cause she’s not your maid! I was in contract-role that prevented me from taking a paid vacation during the time of our Kauai vacation, so I decided to work the days we were there so that I could fund the vacation 😂. To me this isn’t a bizarre concept, being a millennial professional who has lived through the COVID-era. I wasn’t hula hooping over the fact I had to be up at 5am to attend meetings, but at least I finished at 1pm local time, and that gave us plenty of time to vacation. It’s all about balance, ya’ll.
These delicious beauties were a find from my sister—her Holey Grail discovery was theeee best
Let your sister shop to her heart’s content because you’d rather take a nap in the car. My sister is a shopper, I am not. All of her friends far and wide were gifted with trinkets from our travels. Most of my friends didn’t even realize I was in Hawaii until it popped up on their social media. If I don’t even know what I want for myself, how could I begin to figure out gifts for others? Instead, I entertained myself with naps in the car and taking on the title of chicken anthropologist—the Hawaiian kind are worthy of their own reality show.
While she shopped, I devoured native delicacies like shaved ice
Make at least one day a dedicated beach day so you can have your mandatory summer vacation pics for Insta. This summer, I wore a swimsuit four times. I can’t even recall the last time I had a summer where I wore a swimsuit more than once…given that I am an August baby, I know that’s pitiful. At least I wore my swimsuit in Hawaii twice, and it took an incredible amount of effort to do just that. My sister was a great photographer, and I paid the favor back. Now we have proof that we vacationed in Hawaii, even if it is “basic”.
Even Brockstein got his beach look on
If you have to chase down a beach umbrella blowing in the wind at Poipu, it will look comical AF so make sure your sister has her camera out to capture the ridiculousness of it all. Poipu is an oft-cited, well-known area of Kauai, but it wasn’t our favorite. It was too far south from where we stayed in Princeville (we found North Shore in general to be more our vibe, and Hanalei was our favorite beach). We chose to not go for a swim that day, but to lounge with a beach umbrella sans doggo.
If you’re into surfing and high tides, Poipu is definitely more your style. There were a lot of swimmers and surfers hangin’ ten and it honestly looked like a lot of fun. Unfortunately for us this meant a lot of wind, and at one point, our beach umbrella was literally ripped from the sand, tumbling through the air. After having run a speed workout that morning, my legs were incredibly sore, yet I pushed (as well as tripped and plodded like a buffoon) towards the umbrella hoping to grab it before it stabbed someone in the eye. Luckily I got it, but I wish I had a video to share. By the end of it I was laughing while also trying not to collapse—it was too hilarious a sight.
Don’t see any sea turtles (honu) even though everyone says you will. Stalk chickens instead. I didn’t see any turtles (except for one that looked beached at Poipu 😬), but I did see ALL the chickens and as I stated earlier, their lives are WILD.
My first day in Kauai is mostly chicken pics
If you start to miss Texas by Day 4, don’t worry, you are not going crazy. You just thought you would be able to escape humidity for a bit but the Garden Island laughed in your face. While the intermittent rain was refreshing, the stabbing heat and humidity that followed right after was not. Running through said heat and humidity was something I was accustomed to coming from Texas, but it was also something I was trying to escape from, LOL.
Do not go hiking at Ho’opi’i Falls. It will not take 20 minutes and you will not be amused by the guava on the forest floor. Why is it every time I go hiking with a family member or close friend, it is always a disaster 😂? Someone didn’t bring water, someone didn’t wear the right shoes, someone is too tired…okay, a lot of the times it’s me 😅, but I like to thank running for my endurance/fitness, both physically and mentally.
In addition to a beach day, my sister and I wanted to check off at least one waterfall hike, and Ho’opi’i sounded reasonable. Unfortunately it wasn’t, as the paths were wet and muddy from the morning rain, and the trail (despite being supposedly walked upon by locals and tourists alike) was difficult to decipher. As we motioned further and further into the “jungle”, every time we would spot someone heading back we would ask them how long it took to get to the falls. “Ummm, twenty minutes?”. Perhaps the next “influencer” who makes a trip to Kauai can make a reel about this: how long does it really take to get to Ho’opi’i Falls?
Eventually we made it, and absolutely captured it on camera.
Don’t be surprised if you are sick for two solid weeks post-vacation, eye infection included. This is literally what happened to us. Within a day from returning, my sister and I had varied symptoms for what we could only conclude to be some type of flu. I had intermittent fevers, and eventually a cough/sinus problems for about a total of two weeks post-trip. We were COVID negative, but the weird part was the eye infection that my sister developed at the tail-end of her sickness ordeal. So, be prepared for any tropical bugs, I guess?
And last, but not least, watch me whip and watch me NENE!! If anyone gets the reference, you are a true millennial, but nene are in fact Hawaii’s national bird! It was a gorgeous sight to see them on my runs, relaxed on their land, against the backdrop of lush green and bright blue.
Would you be a “lazy girl” in Kauai or more adventurous 🐢?
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With SGD, my fourth blog venture in life (lol, I am also including the few months I had a Blogspot in high school to document the cool snacks my sister’s friend brought back from Japan one time!), I see it more as a portfolio of my writing style when I compare it to my other blogs.
You know, something to mention in my query letter to the agent who will one day publish my memoir 😉🌠
I used to blog solely about two main passions of mine, running and food. But when I left for Italy, I got bored of restricting myself with my writing. With SGD, I wanted to have more freedom in this regard, and I do, but I also miss writing about food and my day(s) around the foodie adventures I planned around! Though the standard food product and restaurant reviews do get repetitive…
And I thought I’d do something similar with my weekend spent in Porto: fill you in on not just what I ate, but how I felt…
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Why Porto? Because it happened to be cheaper than Lisbon when I booked the Ryanair tickets 😂. I knew Portugal was a country I would be interested in visiting, and I thought “why not now” since it was only about a two hour flight from Milan…
…but if there’s anything I learned about these “cheap flights within Europe”, it is that they are cheap for a reason. Always delayed. Always crowded. Always an unpleasant experience.
Needless to say, I was looking for my dinner that night to soothe my irritated soul, and Kind Kitchen, not too far from my hostel, was the perfect place to refuel.
I was the only solo diner that night, surrounded by German-speaking couples, but it didn’t faze me.
No one mattered, once I locked eyes with my plate of vegan nachos.
Crispy chips topped with black beans, tomatoes, vegan cheese, and guacamole…was I in Berkeley or Porto?
It was satisfying indeed, but I craved something sweet and cold, despite the coastal winds bringing a chill along with them. As I walked towards Gelataria Portuense, I noticed several crescent moons gliding across a pitch black sky—haha no, they were just ‘gulls! 🐦
They followed me all the way to a rich, creamy cup of porto tawny + cheesecake morango—a taste of Porto Tawny wine without the alcohol, caramelized walnuts, plus cream cheese and strawberry puree with a crumbly biscuit.
Now my appetite was satisfied, and I was ready for a well-deserved night’s rest. Thankfully, only four girls including me were in my hostel room that night, when the maximum is supposedly eight…
I slept well that night, and in the morning learned that gray and cloudy skies awaited me, prompting me to push my run to later in the day. The other girls in the room were still snoozin’, including a Californian girl who’s last stop had been Morocco.
I wanted to sleep-in like them all, catch them at a more “decent” hour so we could unite and leave our solo traveler identities for a while….but I was hungry. The story of my life.
I was on the hunt for Pastel de Nata, as well as a place to possibly work with a laptop. But, Confeitaria Calica checked off only one of the two.
I decided to take care of my stomach first, and could deal with work a little later. The cafe with its no-frills decor made sure to humble me and my breakfast. A hefty, cube TV with a bubble screen played Portuguese news in the background, while the aged clientele seemed to have lived through better days…
My breakfast was indeed spartan, but in the most Portuguese way. I had seen Pastel de Nata before in Italy, but I vowed to never try it until I was on proper ground to take my first bite.
A cappuccino—in the most darkest form I had ever seen, almost as gray as the skies were that morning!—made a fair accompaniment to the golden egg tart with a flaky crust. The camera didn’t do well in confirming its real size—the size of my palm!
Within minutes it was all gone, and it was time to hunker down to get some work done. “Nomading” was going great, but it was about time I got some digital in! The Pilot Hostel lobby was decent enough, but the dark red walls fed me “vampires in daycare vibes”. It didn’t help that my “desk” and chair felt like a toddler’s play station.
After a few hours of work, I decided I would squeeze my run in—it’s my go-to way to also check off some sightseeing. The girls in my hostel room were long gone by the time I returned to gather my running gear. My 7 mile run was invigorating as much as it was exhausting, thanks to steep hills that made me second guess where I really was…
Porto, or San Francisco Bay Area? 🤔
I was hoping not to run into others while still in sweaty clothes, but there was nothing I could do to avoid the two blondes, attached at the hip, running damage through their already-flat-and-fried hair. Years of middle and high school in the 2000s as a brown, oily-skinned awkward duckling, and perhaps getting through my twenties constantly rolling my eyes at the routines of other women, made me immune to the self-doubt I used to experience upon seeing “feminine competition”.
The Californian who had recently trekked Morocco was at least one friendly face. While she had already made plans with the blondes, we exchanged numbers and mutually suggested to catch up for dinner. Perhaps I wouldn’t have to trek around Porto alone, after all. Even though the city caught my attention without my needing another human to distract me, the extroverted introvert in me always welcomes the company of a warm soul.
So I was content having another meal alone in the meantime—at least I had the freedom to go vegan once again, at Apuro. It was dimly-lit, yet cozy cafe, that truly reminded me of the restaurants we’d visit in Berkeley with “my really cool cousin”.
While I slowly answered the work emails that suddenly accumulated in my inbox within the last working hour of that Friday afternoon, this “sweet” bowl composed of sweet potato puree, basmati rice, bittersweet seitan, sauteed mushrooms, eggplant, lettuce, arugula, tomatoes, walnuts, cilantro, and a generous serving of (chili) sauce helped me stay focused until I could *officially* clock-out for the day.
And as usual, I had to have something sweet to feel content and complete. A slice of a dark chocolate vegan tart with almond and coconut did the trick, even if dark chocolate isn’t my most favorite taste in the world…
As I approached the last spoonfuls of my scrumptious vegan dessert, I decided to reach out to the Californian. As usual, I was making the first move. A somewhat-desperate extroverted introvert who wanted to seize any chance at companionship, because she wasn’t looking forward to yet another meal alone, if she could avoid it…
Thankfully, I was able to confirm company for the evening. After so much time in Italy, I was used to a latter start time for dinner. 7pm in the lobby and then a slow walk over? I mean, did I have a choice?
But at least Porto showed its thoughtful side again, this time with Francesinhas Al Forno da Baixa. A short conversation in the hostel lobby about where to go for dinner led the Californian and I here, after I confirmed that they indeed had an ample selection of vegan francesinha delights.
There were at least four vegan francesinhas to choose from. Four!! Not having to pick “the vegan one”, rather picking one from a selection, was a novel experience to say the least.
So I went with curry, filled with everything possible that was all vegan: seitan, vegan chorizo, vegan sausage, vegan cheese, and curry sauce. And for less than 10€.
The conversation was filling as well. As two women travelers, though under different circumstances and with years between us, we were able to talk about things relevant to us both. There were times when the conversation steered towards unnerving memories from my end, but she was yet another kind listener from these recent months, helping me to sand down those once abrasive emotions.
The next morning, I sacrificed a run since my appetite still seemed to be raging—despite the “rich” francesinha consumed only hours before!
It was an excuse to try another hipster eatery near the hostel, and I immediately thought of Lazy Breakfast Club just a few doors down…
I was indeed feeling lazy, but it didn’t seem like the cafe was, based on the staff on call. While the cafe was small and cozy, it had an upstairs level, and the number of staff seemed to outnumber the patrons.
It’s almost like I had a personal server, and mine followed me up the stairs and asked if I (as a single patron, of course) wouldn’t mind sitting at a communal table with a German couple already seated. I welcomed the opportunity, thinking perhaps the German couple would be interested in some early morning conversation, but one look at their phone-fixed faces and I rolled my eyes. This solo stuff was really starting to get on my nerves…
Golden milk latte, BRRP! Overnight oats, BRRP!
But it was the server who had led me to my seat who annoyed me the most. His quirk was saying a little “brrp” sound after presenting each food item to a patron.
Golden milk latte, brrp!
Overnight oats with fruit and peanut butter, brrp!
At least he was entertaining to watch, as he air drummed to the music being played over the cafe’s stereo system. He also seemed to break the ice with the Germans at my table by speaking in German and bonding over his admiration of Nietzsche. Cue bigger eye roll here.
My breakfast was light enough that by the time my Californian friend woke up and met me in the hostel lobby, we quickly made our way to stop for Pastel de Nata before heading to our walking tour start.
Cervejaria Metro da Trindade wasn’t fancy, but like the name suggests, it was close to the metro, and close to where we were headed. My new friend tried PdN for the first time, and I decided last minute to grab one to-go. I was still hungry, believe it or not!
Judgy locals?
I did my best not to get custard all over me, and I managed success despite all the wobbly, cobblestone roads that insisted on defeating me!
We made it to the walking tour starting point with time to spare, and found company with a “diverse” group (half of our group were Americans from California, go figure). Our walking tour guide was lively and friendly enough, but as with all walking tours I’ve participated in my life, my mind was thinking to the meal I’d have after!
So I shamelessly tuned out the history that was being shared, in favor of taking photographs of the mesmerizing architecture and the bustling crowds that encircled it all. I perked up when the tour guide began to speak of the history regarding bread, eggs, and the Portuguese Catholic church 🤣.
And when a 15 minute break was mentioned so we could climb back up a hill to check out the infamous Padeirinha Doce, a bakery known for its carb-heavy Portuguese delights, my friend and I didn’t waste a minute, almost running up that hill.
But I was humbled here. After being “spoiled” up until this point with vegan options and dietary-friendly/open-minded catering, the only savory treat I could partake in was a “golden roll” and a cappuccino on the side to wash it all down:
At the end of the day, bread is bread, and I couldn’t complain about biting into a chewy ball of sun. It was the cappuccino I should have been more wary of—piping hot, with each sip threatening to burn off my taste buds.
We managed one more hour of walking, and despite the break, my mind was still thinking about where to eat/drink more coffee after this “distraction” was done and over. I also still had to figure out where my tip was coming from…even after living in old-world Europe for the past few years, the thought of ever having to carry cash continues to send shivers down my spine.
But my new friend came through—I’d cover her next meal, and she’d cover both of our walking tour tips. Our tour stopped at the Douro River, and from there we decided to climb back up to the center and stop at a place along the way.
How convenient that Bitewas this place.
While my friend let me cover her glass of wine, I got myself the crisps with aioli, since there weren’t an ample amount of “big” meals to choose from (and I figured I could have another excuse to eat later).
Sitting by the window, I could see we were perfectly positioned in the beating heart of Porto. I guess 3pm was when things started to take shape, and was proof that Portugal was yet another country and culture filled with people who shuddered at the thought of waking up at 6am for a morning run.
Even with company by my side, my mind always manages to find a way to make me feel othered.
With most of the city attractions checked off thanks to the walking tour, my friend and I decided to take our time strolling in and out of shops, to of course buy more time before the next snack 😂.
Then we found it, the grand entrance to Mercado do Bolhão, Porto’s most famous and grand outdoor market. I was surprised that several vendors offered samples as well, even though they tended to be micro-sized slivers of cheese or teaspoons of vinegar.
What caught my eyes was the decadent display of chocolate truffles—the brigadeiros.
The tiny one I decided to treat myself to was a costly 1.50€! I took the time to admire it before allowing it to melt in my mouth within seconds. It was a vanilla-and-chocolate blend of condensed milk encrusted with sugar crystals, and boy did I wish these miniature truffles were the ones being given out as samples…
After making our rounds, my friend and I made our way back to the hostel. She had to quickly pack up and walk back across town to change her hostel for the night, but we agreed to meet up for an Indian dinner in a few hours. Indian food, you’re guaranteed to find it everywhere and anywhere 😅.
But I was a mix of bored and tired—I was too lazy to climb up to the top bunk that was my hostel bed and I was too exhausted to socialize in the hostel lounge. I made myself cozy on one of the sofas, and passed the next hour and a half doing something I dread: doomscrolling through my phone 😫!
As time ticked on towards 7pm, I decided to take the “scenic” route to Thali. Too bad there was nothing new to see, as I was crossing the same hipster paths I crossed all weekend. Thali was in the middle of Porto’s version of Gourmet Ghetto, yet another similarity to its sister on the Pacific 😉.
It would be the last meal with my new friend, and despite the bittersweet undertones, we were both eager and hungry to dive into some warm (and spicy!) North Indian food. I knew that the spice level of North Indian food offered in Europe is significantly toned down for the sensitive stomachs of the locals, while the price is significantly cranked up!
Being too hungry to capture the full spread, I quickly scooped a spoonful of mushroom paneer and a quarter of my butter garlic naan before chowing down.
While my friend and I mostly stayed quiet as we focused on the food in front of us, the young child of a couple next to us was happily squealing to the sounds of Bollywood music videos playing from the TV screen behind me. Her father looked to us and apologized for his “rambunctious” daughter, to which we politely smiled and said it was no bother.
It led to my friend and I talking about having kids and starting families, and it led me to be completely honest about my take on it all. My friend spoke excitedly about the idea of being able to tell her kids about her one year traveling the world solo, while my mind fixated on the idea of having to prioritize my life around another human being for eighteen consecutive years, if not more…
Our dinner soon came to a close, and with bellies now warm and full, my friend and I hugged each other goodbye. As I walked back to the hostel, I knew I had to stop for dessert, and I suppose Gelateria Sincelo was able to read my mind. A cup of cinnamon ice cream with mini malt balls was the perfect nightcap, despite the cool, sea winds making my body feel especially cold.
The next morning, I woke up around 6am and was the first of all the girls in my room to do so (of course). My flight back to Milan beckoned, and so did one last meal on Porto soil. It wasn’t a special breakfast at Deli & Cia, but a cappuccino + something always seems to comfort me, even on my most stressful days…
Savory breakfasts are hard to come by in Italy, so I was happy to collect my thoughts over a spinach pasty (not quite Portuguese, more like British 😅).
And after the last bite of my dear pasty’s flaky crust, it was back to the land of bland carbohydrates and spartan vegetarian options. Porto was indeed a refreshing break for my microbiome!
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I fed myself well in Porto, and while the food was accommodating as much as it was nourishing, the added benefit of having a “travel pal” for the weekend helped pass time in a city that already performed well in distracting me.
And while this post is a clear record of my literal bites in Porto, the feelings associated with these meals are also “bites” that will remain ingrained in my mind for years to come…
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I have been pretty successful in my last series of trips to “not go at it alone“.
Funny thing is, I have a solo trip coming up, but only because I figured that for some destinations—like Portugal—it’s best to just make it happen and not depend on others. Especially if RyanAir has a deal you can’t pass up.
I have few friends and a couple of acquaintances in the lonely city of Milan, and I have disclosed to these individuals that my time in Milan isn’t indefinite. Upon hearing this, one of my dear friends AM proposed the idea of doing a mini weekend trip within Italy together. We had talked about this before last summer, when I was putting in an effort to meet a lot more girls in an attempt to create a community for myself here (lol, okay then…). Even though a group trip never panned out, I’m glad that AM was still eager to be my travel companion!
One of her photo tags inspired the title of this post—we also talked about being millennials while on this trip, and if you know me, I will talk for hours about the 2000s to no end!
For our trip, we were thinking small—Siena, Udine, Cinque Terre/La Spezia—but then Ravenna was thrown into the picture and it seemed like a reasonable destination for an easy-going weekend trip within Italy. Round-trip train tickets for the end of February cost around 78 euros, but one of the train legs was on the “fast” Frecciarossa train from Milan to Bologna, and for some reason, our return ticket was on the pricey side.
Trains. You can’t live with ’em, you can’t live without ’em.
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We left on a Saturday morning, getting a coffee (of course) at Milan Centrale before our train to Bologna Centrale at 8am. Despite all the things that stress me about daily life in Italy, my morning ritual of a cappuccino plus something helps me survive on the daily. It’s rare that I have a morning without one, and if I do, I’m in the worst mood ever!
But even when pumped with the fuel a cappuccino provides, I can never be fully prepared for the things life in Italy throws at me: including personal space infringement…
Nice view?
AM and I were assigned seats apart from eachother for the first leg of our trip. I was blessed with this view for one hour. La dolce vita, amIright?
From Bologna, we took a shorter train (about an hour) to Ravenna, which is a seaside town located on the western coast of Italy by the Adriatic Sea. It’s a city filled with churches, Dante’s resting place, and mosaics.
Mosaics are literally everywhere. Some cute pieces close to the hotel we stayed at Hotel Mosaico.
We stayed at Hotel Mosaico, a conveniently-placed hotel within walking distance to the train station (although Google didn’t recognize the underground tunnel to access the station, so when we first arrived we walked “the long way” of fifteen minutes around the station and aboveground 😅). Our room definitely gave us the two separate beds we requested, but the size discrepancy was hilarious.
Peep my little Texan booties 💛
AM was kind to let me have the bigger bed, although I only took up 25% of the mattress, lol!
After checking in, we did my favorite activity every time I’m in a new place—walking around and taking pics of everyday activity, while walking to food 😂.
The city center is small, easy to walk around within minutes, but definitely has a warm and cozy feel to it even on a rainy day!
The ol’ street name on a plaque on the wall vibe was in full swing here also, but bedazzled with mosaic art:
For lunch, I’m glad AM was just as eager to try Amaranto as I was, a vegan restaurant that also served traditional dishes veganified. While I opted for a noodle curry (I was in the mood for something warm and flavorful), AM enjoyed her traditional cappelletti pasta with ragù (it was all vegan, even the ragù, though AM was convinced it was real meat, haha)!
Fancy, but not really!Presentation on point, and even though it looked small, it was super filling.
With bellies full, we were hoping to check off some local landmarks from our list, but we found out that a lot of the local attractions have limited opening hours—including on weekends! So even though we were out and about at 2pm, we managed to make it in time to check out Basilica of St. Vitale but had to see a few other landmark churches in the area the next day.
Even though I’m not Catholic, and Italy is literally the birthplace of Catholicism, the mosaic artwork inside Basilica of St. Vitale is something that any cultured person can appreciate.
I honestly wonder if all these artists back in the day had some adrenaline craving—they had to if they were hanging upside down to paint or assemble flecks of glass together. Crazy guys!
Close to the basilica, there was a cute local artisan shop featuring mosaic gifts and souvenirs. I’m not a souvenir kind of person (photos are fine enough for me!), but I love walking through shops that scream the local themes—I find them more personable than the usual touristy spot or museum!
Workshop area in a place called Annafietta
Before heading to the beach (yes, in February), we stopped for a coffee at Mercato Coperto and then quickly stopped to check out the Battistero Ariani (we thought it was free entry, but there was a two euro fee of course!).
Hanging out at the beach was one of my favorite moments on the trip because AM and I transitioned back to teenage girl mode, haha! She found the perfect stick for carving our names into the sand, and we spent a good two hours getting a solid workout in from walking across the terrain!
Millennialz in Ravenna
Previous trips that had me detour the beach left me wasting time when it came to getting back to the city center. Ravenna was kind to us, in that the bus ride was a “short” 30 minute distance back to the train station. We took a winding way back to a convenient bus stop, but we made it back to the hotel in one piece.
After resting for a bit, dinner was on our minds. I was particularly ravenous, and I attribute that to our energy expenditure at the beach!
Surprisingly, we weren’t met with many options to choose from for dinner. We ended up going to Mr. Dante, a restaurant in the piazza that was literally empty at 8pm.
Ladies and gentlemen, how are you not starving at this hour?
I helped myself to the quattrostagioni without ham, so that left me with artichoke, olives, and mushroom. Oh, but it would have been a knock-out if someone had the guts to put onion and pineapple on this bad boy:
If this only had onions and pineapple! But I still gobbled it up nonetheless!
Despite the dark red color palatte and the all-Italian menu, the restaurant had a TV blasting music videos from the 2000s! What a great accompaniment for two millennialz having dinner 😂.
After gobbling up an entire pizza, I still had room for gelato! We walked around the piazza for a bit, and found out where the “cool kids of Ravenna” go out to hang on Saturday nights. They had a boombox and everything, and it was quite a hilarious sight.
My piccola gelato was a chocolate flavor with Smarties-like candies and an amarena (cherry) flavor on top. It started to rain when we finally got our gelato, but I will never say no to a scoop of ice cream!
It didn’t look like a lot but trust me it was.
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The next morning, we were met with a downpour. Heavy rain, brisk winds, everything. I wanted to go for a nice run around the city—maybe to the beach and back because you know, #longdistancerunner—but the weather was making it a challenge.
I ended up running underneath the covering of a police station (lol) and managed to get five miles in despite the horrendous weather conditions. It was worthy of a relaxing breakfast provided by the hotel. The pickin’s weren’t amazing in the savory department, but I managed to find “balance” even among the disproportionate amounts of sweets!
I made it work with bread, jam, cheese, a hard-boiled egg, chocolate muesli, and of course, a cappuccino. I absolutely love it when breakfast is included in a hotel stay…there’s something about a hotel breakfast buffet that makes you really feel like you are on vacation 😂.
Our train didn’t leave Ravenna until 2pm, so we had all morning and lunch to finish exploring.
S. Appolinare Nuovo
S. Appolinare Nuovo was next, and is what made me realize that with all of these ceilings and artwork on said ceilings, one who is prone to neck pain should be wary of visiting Ravenna 🤣.
My face when looking at these ceilings during this trip lol
The ceiling work was stunning, but of course, you could tell time had a done a number to the building overall. Still, the mosaic work and its colors are striking!
There was an adjacent Dante exhibit, since the famed poet died in Ravenna. His tomb was actually nearby, and we were able to pass by it as well.
It was a proclaimed “quiet zone”.
Our last stop for the trip was Museo Arcivescovile, which AM and I agreed that it was our least favorite of everything we saw.
It was the most “technical” of them all, literally fitting of its name.
While the ceilings were yet again pretty, many of the items on display got…repetitive 😅.
Needless to say, we were more than ready for a proper lunch before making the long journey back to Milan. AM suggested at the start of the trip that we make it a priority to seek out piadina (essentially a flatbread sandwich) as one of the meals during our trip. I’m always happy to indulge in local favorites as long as there is a vegetarian-friendly option.
But piadina and I have had a tricky history. I didn’t realize that traditional recipes call for lard, or strutto, when making the bread, and this was something I found out months after moving to Italy 🙄.
I may be “that girl” who has to ask at restaurants “do you make this with animal fat?”, but a smart restaurant owner knows that with respect and acceptance of all dietary needs comes moneyyyyy 😂.
So we had to pass on another “famous” piadina spot that was open and ended up at Pasticceria Ferrari instead. It was our third pick, and the ambience was reflective of that—a cafe with an old 70’s feel to it with dim lighting and confusion among its menu. But at least we each had our piadina, since they had vegetarian-friendly ones made with olive oil.
Piadina with squacquerone cheese and rucola
We took our time with lunch, and made our way back to Ravenna station. Of course we had almost an hour to kill, and given the dilapidated state of the station, there was no proper seating area. Of course…
Our ride back was entertaining at least: rowdy Ravennean teens blasting Italian hip hop all the way to Bologna, running through the rain once we got to Bologna just to take shelter with some coffee, falling asleep on the train (me!) with no shame, and having a quick dinner at Centrale before heading home!
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If I’m being honest (always lol), I probably would have been “done” with Ravenna in half an afternoon! It truly is a tiny town more than it is a city, and if I had been a solo traveler, I probably wouldn’t have invested in the tickets to see the inside of the landmark churches (I know, it was only 10 euros to see most of what we saw…).
Still, I’m glad AM and I were able to find time in our schedules to make this mini trip work. Surprisingly, I’ve faced so much hesitation from other expat women in Italy when it comes to planning day and weekend trips in Italy! Not sure why…if you got your butt over to Milan, surely getting on a train for a short weekend trip would be a piece of cake? 😅
So while it’s easier to solo, companionship will always have its perks.
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I recently made a trip to Freiburg, Germany, and boy, was it a few days of reprieve from the onslaught of life in Milan (I came back from the US a little over two weeks ago, and Milan didn’t wait a second to put me in a chronically awful mood…).
Even if I didn’t choose Germany as my expat destination, I certainly have more respect for it than Italy 😅.
Looking back at this grand Black Forest during my 14 miler.
When I was actively putting an effort into Italian, I came across an interesting “quirk”: when trying to translate a phrase from English to Italian in my mind, I would often first think of the phrase in German.
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how to say “How much does that cost?” in Italian, but “Wie viel kostet das?” hit my brain at lightening speed. When I shared this phenomenon with others, no one seemed to relate.
When it comes to Germany, my brain loves the order. The order in the grammar of the language, clear-cut rules (even if they’re a pain, you know what to expect), and a sense of practicality.
Freiburg city center
This is what drew me to the language in high school, along with the fact that it was a unique offering for language class. Most high schools offered Spanish, maybe French, but German was definitely a not so common offering.
Not to mention, my teacher was an exuberant second gen Chinese American who was probabaly more in love with Germany than any blonde-haired, blue-eyed man straight out of the Black Forest 😅.
German was my favorite class in high school because it brought relaxation after tense periods of AP science and calculus classes (the latter gave my digestive problems, no joke). I was Herr L’s star student (of course, my type A personality wouldn’t have it any other way) and I was known as Inge in his class (we had to pick German names for class, and I actually picked Inge because it sounded like a word in Tamil! 😁).
Calm, rainy Saturday morning in Freiburg
After high school, I tried to continue German in college, but my type A personality was scared to fail. After getting a C+ on my first assignment (an essay), I panicked. I dropped the course because I wanted to focus on making sure I didn’t fail my “more important classes” that would get me into med school 🙄.
My life went a different direction eventually, and obviously 😅. I chose Italy with intention, in that the next step was professional, but not only that…
I didn’t go to Italy for a boy like many other American girls, but I can’t deny the fact I wanted a piece of that Italian romance too! To be honest, I don’t think I would have taken that risk in finding love anywhere else…especially Germany 😂!
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All of this is to say German and I go way back, and my weekend in Freiburg definitely brought me much-needed peace.
The news hit me HARD and I was left in a funk for several days. Being in Milan didn’t help either…I knew I’d have to get back to my job search grind, and the unknown of that gives me anxiety every single freaking day 😔.
So this was on my mind as I sat aboard my first Flixbus (comparable to Megabus in America!). When I got to Freiburg a little over six hours later, I was still in a sour mood, but the quiet walk over to the hotel eventually softened me up.
I mean, there was a Dean & David (German fast casual chain with vegetarian and vegan options!!) next to the amazing Super 8 hotel I was staying at. I fueled with a halloumi salad and fruit and nut brownie before checking into this spectacular room:
Maybe it’s because I don’t like my life right now, but this hotel room got me feeling all sorts of emotional. Being able to leave Milan, even if just for two days, felt like I was able to escape a year-long stay in prison.
Taking multiple hot showers. Not having to worry about keeping the gas off to save on heating. Two comfy beds (lol, just cause I guess?).
Meeting my friend for dinner later was also such an uplifting moment. I felt incredibly relaxed, and so grateful we were able to meet up despite our crazy schedules. Good company truly does make life’s stresses feel a lot less daunting…
At peace in Freiburg
The next morning was wonderful as well. I slept in, had an amazing pancake breakfast, and walked around in the old town square, reveling in Freiburg’s humble cuteness.
I woke up happy that morning. I could feel it in my bones and my voice, and there had to be a reason for it.
That afternoon, I walked into a local store (Kaufland) and stocked up on vegan snacks and unique Pringles flavors not offered in Italy. Cheese and Onion, these Italians are missing out…
Cheese & Onion PringlesVegan Snacks
I prepped myself for a long run, and used it as an excuse to climb up to the Schloßberg and treat myself to incredible panoramic views of the city, as well as trail into the Black Forest. After a rewarding 14 miles with steep incline, I treated myself to dinner at Dean & David: vegan green curry and a golden milk latte.
My short stay in Freiburg was perfect, because it fed my soul without me expecting it to.
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Living in Milan has forced me to compromise and expect less than what I deserve, which is why I think it depresses me while other places restore me.
Despite what other expats in Italy say, things are not good here. That’s the truth. The cost of living is high, and the salaries are abysmally low, even for a post-doctorate like myself. People often tell me “I’m rich compared to others in Italy“, which is a frightening thing to hear…it means most Italians are living right above or close to poverty level when compared to American standards 😧. People also tell me that “well, you can leave whenever you want“, though it’s not that simple.
I need an exit plan. A parachute. A road map.
Yes, I’m tired of living like a nomad. I’m proud of the fact I am capable of being a minimalist, but I’d love to establish roots and live the life I truly deserve. Striving for that when your current situation numbs you is one of the hardest challenges I’ve had to face.
But then those challenges seem to instantly disappear when I am in the right environment…
I wish I could end this post on a more positive note, but reality sometimes prevents glimmers of hope from poking through. Freiburg was a blessing, a promise that I am capable of happiness. My recent, multiple trips to Houston and Austin too. The universe is asking me to be patient and brave. I hope I can continue to do so, and that the light at the end of the tunnel is near.
