After spending several days in Marseille exploring the old town and hiking through the calanques along the southern coast, I accomplished much of what I set out to do, but there was one landmark that continued to elude me - Chateau d’If. Touristy as it may be, I was determined to see it as long as the forceful mistral winds took a day off. Every morning for the past five days, I've walked down to the ferry dock in Vieux-Port to check if the boats were running, and five times I've returned disheartened. Finally my stubbornness paid off and on the sixth day the mistral took pity on me.
This day and age people tend to put a great deal of emphasis on their 25th birthday. On this momentous occasion, us so-called ‘millennials’ take a moment to reflect on our lives and - based on the countless Facebook postings I’ve seen - go through a complete mental breakdown. They realize they are in a terrible job, working all the time, have no relationships on the horizon, can’t seem to get their life together, and the pressure is compounded by the looming “tick-tock” of youth slowly slipping through their fingers.
Of all the cities I've visited over the years, none has surprised me more than Marseille. I spent an incredible five days in this glorious city and every single one of them was filled with wondrous activities, many of which I didn't even know existed. Since my semester abroad in college five years ago, Paris held the title of my favorite city in all of Europe, but this week my rankings have officially changed. Marseille now occupies the number one slot and ranks up there with Lisbon as my favorite city so far on this trip.
Today I sit overlooking the Bosphorus Strait from a rooftop patio in Istanbul. I arrived over three weeks ago and this is literally the fifth day of sunshine I’ve encountered. The preceding days were cloudy, rainy, and cold with only a handful of moments where the sun managed to break through the thick blanket of ominous clouds. The weather isn't quite what I was hoping for, but then again, it is the beginning of December. All things considered, I can't really complain since I’m sitting outside in shorts, flip-flops, and t-shirt. As surprising as the weather may be, today marks a far more important milestone - the sixth month anniversary of my departure from the US.
It’s that time of year again, I have successfully managed to orbit the sun without perishing and I am yet another year older. Customarily this event would call for a night filled with copious amounts of alcohol and the mindless squandering of a small fortune, but this year the glorious 7/11 holds a special meaning. I will cross the quarter-of-a-century milestone and celebrate the one-month anniversary of traveling in the magnificent city of Marseille.
My time in Valencia was divided into two parts as a result of an exhausting side trip to the nearby island of Ibiza (Part I, II, III, and IV). The first few days in the city were my general touristy days, but when I returned there was a strange sense familiarity. It wasn’t until I arrived in Valencia that I dawned on me just how unaccustomed I’d become to the feeling, but it was remarkably soothing to be in a city I was already acquainted with. Since leaving the US, every single city I’ve visited so far is completely brand new to me and, while the novelty is exhilarating, I’d forgotten what it's like to have a home base. Many of the things people (including myself) take for granted when they live in one place for a while is the fact that they know where the grocery story, good restaurants, ATMs, bus stations, etc. are all located. For me however, every new place I visit requires I spend a few hours figuring out where everything is - but not this time around. This time I knew exactly where I was and how to get around without a map.
Of all the things to do in Ibiza, the number one item on my agenda was a visit to one of the mega clubs the island is renowned for. Superficial, flashy, and overpriced as they are, at the end of the day it was the reason for my entire trip in the island. By the time I returned to Ibiza Town from my voyage to Cafe del Mar on the other side of the island in St. Antoni, it was pitch black outside. Even though I didn’t have a reservation, I returned to my hostel and quietly stashed my things in a locker for the evening - I had no need for a hostel, my goal was to party the night away until the sunrise.
To any of my close friends and family, it should come as no surprise that I like electronic music. “Like” may be putting it a bit lightly considering the hundreds of dollars I use to spend on concerts (back when I had a job) and the fact 98% of the music on my phone is dedicated to the genre, but nevertheless, I’m a fan. My long-standing love affair with the music began when I was ten years old thanks to a CD my dad left lying around the house – the compilation album Tranceport by Paul Oakenfold.
