Great Scots!

Three days in Scotland has almost converted me. Like Ireland, Scotland has been perfect...but in a slightly different way. The natural beauty of Ireland is what really got me; in Scotland, it's the stores. I could come back and spend a vacation just in Glasgow shopping for days. You know, if a journalist's salary supported that kind of lavish lifestyle.

We started Monday morning early by flying from Dublin to Glasgow, having a quick breakfast in the Dublin airport before boarding. Once we landed, we took a bus from the airport to the city station and walked the few extra blocks to our lovely hotel, called Thistle.

We lounged in the room for just a little bit, trying to stay up-to-date on Kate's pregnancy with BBC & various news stations. Kate still working on it, we left the hotel and walked down the road outside, full of shops and little restaurants. We stopped at a place called Biggar's for lunch (my suggestion), which was a great little coffeehouse playing American tunes from the '90s.

 

And I said, what about Breakfast at Tiffany's?

Following lunch, we took another open-air bus tour of the city (because why not?), during which Jeanine got to see a lot of gorgeous historical landmarks as well as some fantastic shopping streets. Up to this point, the only real shopping we'd done was for groceries & souvenirs, but what's a trip to Europe without getting some great clothes? We didn't get any that day, but I wasn't going to forget.

After the tour, we decided to head back to the hotel to take it easy for a bit...my brother and dad swam in the hotel pool, I read, and my mother took a nap. Once the guys got back and showered, we all went to dinner at a fantastic French restaurant a couple blocks down from the hotel, called La Bonne Auberge. This roughly translates to "The Good Inn" in English, but believe me when I tell you that title is greatly underselling it.

This restaurant was magnificent. I can't remember the last meal I had that was so great. French cuisine is pretty much always marvelous, as far as my experiences have proved, but this was exceptionally exquisite cuisine. I had fish with Cajun spices on a bed of au gratin potatoes for my main dish, and ordered creme brulee (my love) for dessert. Flawless, I tell you. Flaw-less.

Anyway, after dinner I floated back down to earth long enough to cross the street and enter CineWorld, the largest & tallest cinema anywhere in the world. About 15-20 stories tall, this building is impossible to miss walking down the street in Glasgow. We saw Monsters University finally, and it was just as great as the first....a little less heartwarming, but much more hilarious.

Day 2 in Glasgow: Monsters University hadn't ended until late Monday night, and of course we stayed up late watching the news (Kate had had her baby boy just before our French dinner!), so Tuesday morning we enjoyed a day of sleeping in late. Like, 11am late. It was a nice (if lazy) change of pace. We watched the news again in our PJs, showered, and then hit the streets for a late brunch.

Not finding any place that would make a seemingly exceptional breakfast at noon, we headed back into our new-found favorite coffeehouse, Biggar's. I then consumed about ten pounds of pure sugar by making the mistake of ordering Belgian waffles with syrup, which I assumed would come on the side. No no, with syrup in fact means they drench your entire plate in syrup (& powdered sugar--an added bonus!) before setting it in front of you to eat. Well I was hungry, so I ate it. And now, in totally unrelated news, I probably have diabetes.

I'd tell you what happened after breakfast, but it was all a blur. Let's just say, shopping happened. FINALLY, shopping happened. I got some lovely little things I didn't think I could find back in the states, including the most precious peach-colored dress ever (personal opinion, but also fact).

Shopping led to us hopping back on the bus and riding across town to the Necropolis of Glasgow, right by the Glasgow Cathedral. And if there's one thing I love more than shopping, it's probably walking through 300-year-old cemeteries. Sincerely, I looove cemeteries, and this was probably the most gorgeous I've ever entered, even more than the ones I visited in New Orleans, pre-Katrina.

Instead of explaining this in words, I'll simply show you with pictures:

All in all, it was one of the best days of the vacation. We caught the last bus back to the shopping street, and I stumbled upon a small taco shop called Pinto. We hadn't had Mexican yet on the trip (they do not have Mexican foods in Ireland, as confirmed by Adrienne), and this was a pleasantly delicious surprise. The Irish may not be big on Mexican cuisine, but the quesadillas in Scotland were muy excelente.

This morning marked our third in Scotland, but sadly we've now left Glasgow. We caught a train this morning at Queen's Station from Glasgow into Edinburgh, just an hour's ride away, and being here is slightly like being in a Van Helsing film. All the tall steeples outlined by the sky and the many small, dark alleyways (called "closes") do the trick, giving the city a somewhat spooky feel (which I absolutely love).

After taking our bags to the hotel, we walked around the city, which was again heavily populated with cute stores full of precious things I felt I couldn't live without, so we stopped in several of them before getting lunch at a place called Southern Cross Cafe. We ate outside and had a great view straight down the road, perfect for people-watching (mwa-ha-ha).

We decided to burn off that lunch by touring the Edinburgh castle, an enormous fortress at the end of the road that's comparable to Edward Scissorhand's home. Inside the walls, we got a breathtaking view of the city below, saw the Crown Jewels of Scotland, and the room where King James VI was born...at age 1, he became King of Scotland, and by the time he was 30 he'd become King of England. You could say he was doing alright.

Following that tour, more shopping ensued, then dinner at a French pastry shop called Patisserie Valerie (how cute is that?) before we joined a night tour of Mary King's Close. Mary King was a woman who lived in Edinburgh in the 17th century, and a close, as you recall, is another word for narrow street or alleyway. There are many of them in Edinburgh, but the ones from 400 years ago were covered over in the 19th century by the city chambers. The street level was moved up, and now all those former homes are musty, dank, hollow chambers underground. We went on a 45-minute tour with a tour guide who acted and dressed as a resident of the close from the 1600s. It was somewhat creepy and so much fun. My whole family loved it.

Now, we are back at the hotel room, preparing for bed. Tomorrow, we plan to ride a yacht and visit a dungeon. And, perhaps, go shopping again. :)

Fifty Shades of Green

Seven days of spotty WiFi later, here I am. The days blur together so quickly that it's hard to remember all the incredible things we've seen and done this past week, but that's what cameras are for. And believe me, all my pictures are getting backed up nightly. I don't think I could handle another incident like Beijing.

So, with some pictures to help me out, let me give you a little rundown of the past six days....

Wednesday, 7.17 : We all enjoyed a delicious last buffet breakfast at the Holiday Inn before leaving Belfast around noon. From there, dad drove the rental for the entire 4-hour drive from Belfast (N. Ireland) to the village of Bunratty in the county of Clare (the Republic of Ireland). We arrived in a large parking lot, facing the gorgeous pale yellow facade of the Bunratty Castle Hotel, where we stayed that night.

A short walk down the road from the hotel put us face-to-face with the towering Bunratty Castle, which has been standing since the 15th century. We ate dinner that night in the castle...a medieval banquet complete with traditional Irish music, servers in medieval garb, and old Irish fare (only knives and hands could be used for our food, which included soup and ribs among other things). We also had some delicious mead, which dad and I quite enjoyed. :)

Thursday, 7.18 : We began the day quite early, taking a 90-minute drive to Blarney Castle. This was thanks to myself hassling my dad the night before, upon learning we might not have time for the trip on top of an already packed day. Ever the stubborn one, I promised to wake my butt up early so we'd have time to make the trip; I was not about to miss kissing the Blarney Stone in Ireland, ya know? So, of course, we did it. Each of us made the trek around the grounds and up to the top of the castle where you kiss the stone by leaning upside down over an open space between the floor and wall of the castle. Totally, totally worth it.

After the castle, I got some delicious ice cream that was basically pure cream, but geez, it was delicious. The grounds were beautiful, the sun was extra hot as the morning wore on, and that ice cream was perfect. It was a good morning.

Upon leaving Blarney behind us, we headed back the other way, first driving the 90 minutes toward Bunratty and then another 90 past it to reach the Cliffs of Moher. If you've ever seen Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, you've seen these badass cliffs onscreen. They're quite recognizable:

We spent approximately 3.5 hours there, walking around, sweating like crazy, scaring my mother by hiking a trail near the edge of the cliffs, etc. It was a breathtaking view and there was a great breeze coming off the ocean. As the sun sagged lower in the sky, we finally left the cliffs and headed to the nearby county of Doolin to have some dinner. We ate at a pub called O'Connor's...undeniably the most Irish place we'd eaten thus far. I kid you not, it smelled like beer and chips six feet from the doorway. After we were completely stuffed, we drove to Galway, landed at our B&B, and called it a night.

 Friday, 7/19 : After an easier, more relaxing morning, we eased into breakfast in the central dining room of the B&B home, where other couples were already eating. The morning was cool, but it quickly heated up outside and we decided to take an open-air bus tour around Galway to start our day.
Let me tell you something...Galway is a beautiful, precious, cozy little place right on the beach. And I loved it. It reminded me of being in Charleston, SC, which is another beautiful beachy town.


After the breezy tour on top of the bus, we walked along Shop Street, a scrunched up little walking street enclosed by pubs, bake shops, storefronts, and street artists trying to make a buck with their neat crafts. A friend of ours from the states actually compared it to Harry Potter's Diagon Alley. I think that's a perfect description.

We enjoyed lunch at a pub called Taaffe's, where I got my official Guinness of the trip, free with our bus ticket. They had great food and we ate outside so we could listen to the street artists play music and people watch all the tourists and locals. We then found a little craft market squished between some rows of stores and perused the shelves of the vendors. I walked away with an adorable giraffe key chain.




We continued to check out the shops, enjoyed some ice cream in the park, and then headed to the little town of Roscommon, about an hour's drive away, to meet up with our neighbor Adrienne from back in the states. She, her parents and two brothers lived in the house behind us all the time they were growing up, and for the past two years, Adrienne (now 25) has been doing mission work with an organization called OM (Operation Mobilisation) Ireland: http://www.ie.om.org/

She took us to dinner and then we all went back to her house for coffee, cookies, and catching up. My parents stayed the night in Lacken House, while I stayed at the apartment with Adrienne and her roommates. I stayed up until probably 2:30am, just reading and taking in the absolute quiet of the countryside.

Saturday, 7/20 : The next morning, Adrienne and I picked up my family and toured her work before dining at a lovely little place called Gleeson's where I had a delicious fruit scone. Following breakfast, we parted ways with Roscommon and headed on for Dublin.















Dublin was such a fun, fun place. That's the only way I can really think to describe it. I felt like I was in a big city back in the states; that's how comfortable I was there. The first thing we did was settle in at our hotel, Trinity Lodge, which was right in the heart of the city and has also put up Martin Sheen, according to a framed picture of him and the manager in the lobby. After setting down our bags, we took the night easy, taking another open-air bus tour and spying on the city from up above, a city that was just waking up as the sun was setting.




One thing I learned quickly was how wild Dublin is at night. A big drinking town (well, country, for that matter), Dublin is full of drunk men and women nursing drinks in one hand and snuggling each other's bums with the other. We ate at a pub called the Auld Dubliner for dinner; we ate upstairs, but downstairs at the bar we could hear the laughter of drunk 20-somethings and a cover band playing American tunes. We also met two IU alum upstairs who chatted us up and who I'm pretty sure were slightly drunk, but it was a good time. The people you'll meet halfway around the world from your own backyard.

Sunday, 7/21 : Sunday morning was a perfect example of that. After walking to morning mass with my family at St. Theresa's Church downtown, I had an insane "what are the odds" moment. Spotting a guy in mass with an IU jacket on was cool enough; realizing moments later it was Kyle--a guy I knew from my freshman year on my dorm building's judicial board--was even crazier. What are the odds?! We chatted for a bit, I introduced him to my mom, and he said he'd been here for the summer on a business internship...what a place to intern, I'd say. Well done, sir.

I should also mention that before mass, we had the most amazing pancakes at a place called Fixx Coffeehouse. Simultaneously thin and fluffy, drizzled in strawberries, blueberries, and berry sauce, they were simply divine. Top that with coffee, and it was the best breakfast Dublin could've offered.

We spent a good part of the afternoon shopping in places that looked interesting and visiting little shops suggested to us by Adrienne. One of those suggestions was Avoca, which is a European hybrid of Anthropologie and every cute vintage store you've ever been in. Oh and also they have a cafe, a bakery, and a children's section. They had everything. And I absolutely fell in love. *sigh*

Between shopping, we spent some time touring the campus of Trinity College--started in the 4th century by Queen Elizabeth I--where we saw the Book of Kells (a thousand-year old text written by monks). It was so neat to see the pages still intact...barely, mind you, but still intact and legible. We also saw a library upstairs in the same building with hundreds of thousands of old books from the 16-18th centuries, books currently being restored by the college. For someone who is in love with books, let me just say it was sooooo incredible.

We finished the day by getting dinner at a famous restaurant called Bewley's, which has hosted the likes of James Joyce and Bono, among others. From there, it was a short drive across town to our hotel by the airport....we had to be prepared for our 6am wake-up call and early flight. Our destination this morning? Scotland.

A Wee Bit of Belfast

Two days ago, my family and I left on a plane from Chicago headed towards Dublin. It's been two days...but I feel like I've already forgotten what it's like to be in the states. From the moment I left the airport and that cool Dublin air hit me, I felt so at home. Unlike Beijing, my mouth tasted like biscuits--not vomit--and I didn't feel like crying this time. I was sincerely in awe from the moment we got to the city.

First things first: it was time to rent a car, meaning dad had to drive on the opposite side of the road, steering the wheel from the right side of the vehicle. This, coming after an almost sleepless night on the plane. Taking a nearly 100-minute route from Dublin to Belfast. We were all dog tired, but I tried to keep my eyes open as long as possible to watch the road with my dad...and, of course, take in the sights. Now it wasn't a super scenic route, but the gray sky and lush green earth couldn't have fooled me into believing I was anywhere else. On the outskirts of town, we saw some sheep grazing in the hills and little white farm cottages. It was beautiful.

Because we'd gotten so little sleep on the plane, we drove straight to the hotel that afternoon and just enjoyed the view and the breeze. We stayed at a Holiday Inn right across the street from the BBC building here in Belfast. From my daybed underneath the window, I have a perfect view of the city skyline as well as the BBC roof, equipped with a large satellite disc that glows bright blue at night.

It's a lot like Alaska here in Belfast, temperature and weather-wise. The skies are sunny but gray; the air is cool, but not cold. After dropping our things at the hotel, my family and I walked to dinner, about 5 blocks from the hotel, at a place called Crown Bar/ Liquor Saloon. There we all had a great dinner and toasted to a wonderful journey ahead. Following dinner, we all crashed at the hotel and conked out around 7pm. Well, except yours truly, who piddled around online and enjoyed the view & breeze while lounging in bed. It was worth losing some sleep over. :)

This morning we got an early start, beginning with continental breakfast at the hotel, which was actually really impressive for being a hotel buffet. Now I'm always a coffee drinker, but today especially, because there was no way I was going to last without it. Today was my mother's special treat: a trip to the new Titanic museum in Belfast, which opened a year ago in March. Gorgeous place, and really interesting information...but still, my mother looooves that stuff, eats it up with a spoon, so I knew the coffee would have to carry me through the long day. Case in point: we parked the car in the garage at 10:30am...we didn't leave until 7:45 at night.

 

Titanic Museum in Belfast, Northern Ireland.

The last couple hours of that, however, we spent riding around the back of an elongated black cab with a guy named Eugene. He had a thick Irish accent, hoop earring through one lobe, a round belly in loose white tee, and was bald with a great rosy smile. He said "honest to God" after just about every phrase, and he told us a million stories about the city, especially the Protestants vs. the Catholics.

With all the recent/ ongoing riots in Belfast, it was especially interesting to hear about those who had died for the cause and the insane things the Protestants have done to keep British control over Northern Ireland, which they refer to as "Ulster" so as to completely separate their ties to Ireland. There's even a wall built between the Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods in the city, and I'm talking like 60 feet high. So sad...I've only been here a couple days, but I can't imagine wanting to separate myself from this place. But, I guess people always find something to fight about, don't we?

As Eugene took us into the Protestant neighborhood and let us get out of the cab to take pictures of murals reflecting the ongoing Protestant/ Catholic fighting, he warned us that we may not want to wander too far or stay out of the car too long. Um...what? He followed that by assuring us there was no need to worry, but going later in the day to these neighborhoods meant more people (men) getting home from work, people who may not be too keen on Catholics like us and himself wandering the grounds.

It was so neat, though. We saw several police cars and a few ambulances in the city today, and my mom asked if they still expected rioting. Eugene said absolutely, and said without a doubt there would be riots tonight! That thrilled me; not so much my mother, I imagine. After our tour, we headed back to get the car and returned to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. We took another walk in the city, then headed back and ate at a restaurant next to our hotel called Nando's. I had a healthy pita with a glass of red wine...not exactly Irish fare, but still delicious.

We didn't eat dinner until almost 10pm, and that's another reason this town--this country-- is so similar to Alaska: the sun here doesn't set until almost 11pm...up until then, blue-gray skies. Good because it makes the days seem longer; not good because we get up at the crack of dawn and I end up staying up way too late at night. Curse the sunlight loving Ireland too much to say goodnight!

But once the lights do go out over Belfast--and they do--it's dark in the city. Tonight, as soon as it got dark, I could hear loud voices and chanting. It was wickedly cool to know (or at least assume) that these were protesters. Now, later, I've been hearing lots of sirens, some off in the distance, catching on the wind, and some pretty close, passing by beneath my window. Call me odd, or even ignorant to be so cavalier about something so serious, but the sound of the sirens excites me. Eugene told us the most serious riots are over with; tonight, it's probably more along the lines of random bar fights in the streets. And it's not that I like mayhem (although, to be honest, I do)...it's that the sound of sirens has always kind of lulled me to sleep.

It's a strange thing to make me feel at home, but it always does. No matter what city I'm sleeping in, sirens at night always mean one thing to me: no matter the danger, no matter the pain, you've got someone watching over the city while you sleep. 24/7, somebody's out there with that siren, waiting to pick you up and fix what needs fixing.


When you're nearly 4,000 miles from your bed, it's a comforting thought. Sweet dreams, Belfast.

WTB: Day 6, The Great Wall of China/ Last Night in Beijing

Day 6: This will be a long one, so brace yourselves. Thursday marked the last full day of our time spent in Beijing, which made for a very bittersweet morning; of course, we still had one hotel breakfast left on Friday, so that was a relief. We began our day bright and early again, but I didn't care. I was so extremely ready for that day...it was Great Wall of China time.

The bus ride was almost two hours long in the early morning, and I think everyone in my class napped on the way there except for me. I was sleepy, but I was much too excited at the same time. I mean, THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA! That, to me, is something I never thought I'd get the chance to see, or if I did, I assumed I'd be very very old and complaining of my foot arthritis from all the walking. But it just so happens that on that day I was only 19 years old, still a kid and without arthritis, getting to walk the Great Wall of China (or at least a couple miles of it).

To get to the wall, we rode up the mountain in cozy cable cars, some of which had plaques that said the name of a famous person who'd ridden in that car on such-and-such date. I don't think ours had yet held anyone too famous, but someone's car said Nelson Mandela, while another said JFK. Before walking up the wall, we learned the valuable skill of ignoring people who want to bargain with you and get you to buy crappy stuff. Street vendors were set up everywhere, selling the same things for different prices--magnets, busts, hats, fans, and other touristy things you apparently can't live without.

Once we'd passed the vendors and ridden our cable cars up the mountain, we were there. We were at the top, approaching the Great Wall of China, and suddenly--we were on it. It was one of the most dazzling feelings I've ever experienced, I kid you not. To look all around you and see nothing but mountains and a trail of brick wall that stretches on for thousands of miles...it was a dream come true, one I couldn't believe was coming true. I snapped away, taking picture after picture of the gorgeous scenery. Every snapshot came out just beautifully, and I didn't even have to do anything special. When you're surrounded by something so naturally captivating, you don't have to edit the pictures to convey that beauty to someone.

We walked along a two-mile section of the wall, lingering at our own pace with a liberal amount of time to wander the wall. It only took about 35 minutes, however, for a girl on our trip to run into another journalist hiking along the wall. You may have heard of him: Charlie Gibson, former host of Good Morning America, and later the anchor of World News with Charlie Gibson?

We were all a little starstruck, especially Haley, who he'd sauntered up to and begun chatting with while she was filming herself at the wall for our final class project. Once she realized who he was, she got him back to the group and we all convinced him to get a picture with us. I mean, when else are you going to run into Charlie Wilson at the Great Wall of China? There are not a lot of second chances in life, so you have to take them when you first get them.

                     So we did. (I'm in the maroon pants...that's him behind me!)

After seeing Charlie and his friend (woman on far right), our class hung around together and eventually made it to the end of our journey on the wall. When we reached the "end," we didn't walk down, or even take the cable cars back the other way. No, we tobogganed down from the Great Wall of China. Approximately an 8-10 minute ride down the mountain, these toboggans were the complete cherry on top of my perfect Great Wall experience. By pushing/pulling the stick shift, you could make the toboggan go fast or slow, which, of course, made for terrific fun.

Once we'd all reached the bottom again, I bought a couple of those sleazy gifts (hey, bargaining in China is what it's all about!) and then we all headed to a cozy lunch spot nearby called the Schoolhouse. When we entered the small dining area, who is there enjoying lunch already but Charlie Gibson, his wife, his friend from the wall, and her husband! They were at the table just behind us, so we all said our hello's again and he introduced us to his wife and other friend. I was glowing with how terrific the day was turning out to be. And this was only noon.

After another delicious meal (the desserts were heavenly...seriously, they were probably baked by an angel), we packed back onto the bus and headed for the hotel again. The rest of the day was ours to do with it what we wanted, so Jansen, Hannah, Misha and I headed for the real bargaining side of town: a big building called the Pearl Market. We had to take separate taxis to get there, and unfortunately, we had no cell phones to use for finding each other, so Hannah and I toured the market by ourselves after standing by traffic for 15 minutes, trying to tell one cab apart from another.

If there is one thing I learned while in China (although I'd like to think I learned many things), it is this: over there, they take their bargaining seriously. The Pearl Market, which was completely a black market, was a seven-story building with different types of kiosks on every floor--purses, women's clothes, men's clothes, sunglasses, jewelry, touristy things, scarves, watches, etc. Hannah and I had a hell of a time making our way through it all, and Hannah got grabbed at least twice by two different Chinese women trying to sell her things. I'd like to state for the record that I was damn proud of myself that day and thankful for the stubborn streak I've always had. I was an excellent bargainer, and helped Hannah save tons of money she would have otherwise spent by giving in much sooner. A lot of people don't like confrontation, myself included, which is why those vendors can get away with murder when it comes to pricing. However, I stood my ground that day and, yes, I'm quite proud.

After spending more than three hours at Pearl Market, we caught a taxi back to the hotel to see what was going on with everyone else. Jansen and Misha were still MIA, so we chatted with some of the other girls--and the only boy of the trip, Michael--in their rooms. Our dinner plans were up to us according to the schedule, but we were all planning a group dinner with an IU grad who had lived in Beijing for almost a year. For the life of me, I can't remember her name--she was an insanely pale redhead--but that night we all went out with her and her guy friend to a fancy Chinese restaurant with koi ponds and dancing waiters and everything.

We were not dressed at all for fancy food, and we were a party of 12 without a reservation, so they didn't seem too super-thrilled to have us there. But it was a FANTASTIC meal. The redhead's guy friend was also a vegetarian, so we bonded over that and paid for a shared meal separately from the rest of the table. This included tofu, eggplant, rice (a staple of every meal), veggies, and some potatoey hash brown type things that were the bomb. Just mentioning all this food takes me back to that table, chopsticks in hand, ready to dig in. We also ordered glasses of hot water with our dinner....in China, one culture shock is the lack of ice water at restaurants and fast food services. If you ask for a cup of water, be ready for it to be steaming. It's like drinking tea, minus the tea bag.

Following dinner, we parted ways with the IU grad and her friend, and decided to find one really great bar for our last night in Beijing. By this point, I was on the verge of crashing and just wanted to crawl into bed, but instead, I followed the crowd and decided to live it up on my last night in the city. That turned out to be the best--and then the worst--mistake.

After dinner we'd been wandering around, searching for a good bar but not having any luck. And just when we were about to give up and call it a night, we found this great bar. I mean it was great. Fun, not too crowded but still lots of people, not too loud but great music playing at a volume where it wasn't awkward to sing along. For someone who can't legally go into bars yet, I could tell, this was a fantastic, welcoming place. I hadn't really planned to drink, but this was the last night and in this great environment, I figured, let's do it! I had a Mai Tai, two Around the World cocktails (which were not mixed well and had way too much alcohol in them), and took two shots of tequila with the rest of the girls. It was a fun, relaxing way to spend our last evening.

Originally, I'd planned to head back early, but the irony is that when half of the group was ready to turn in, I was with the group gunning to head to another place...a nightclub called Latte. Jansen and some of the girls had gone there the night I'd watched Wanderlust in bed, and they were absolutely raving about it. It was close, so we decided to walk there, and although there was an entry fee (even for girls), there wasn't one for us...probably because we were female and American, and they were surely as curious about partying with foreigners as we were.

Once we entered the club, I understood why the girls had talked it up so much. It was insane in the best way. There was a white-haired woman who must have been 65 years old wearing sunglasses and DJ-ing on stage. If you've seen the recent remake of The Great Gatsby with Leo DiCaprio, you have a pretty good idea of what this nightclub was like.




Except, like, no Americans anywhere. A bunch of beautiful Asian women, though. In fact, I'm pretty sure there's a handful of pictures of me and a Chinese model floating around out there somewhere. I don't know if she was actually a model, but she was gorgeous and stood out more than anyone else, and although she spoke no English, we danced together, tried to hand signal meanings half the night, and took a million pictures on her iPhone. Misha swore she saw her on a billboard ad the next day, and I'd believe it. Like I said, gorgeous.

Unfortunately, I have no photographic proof of that girl...or the rest of the night, for that matter. After two glorious hours at the club, meeting some great people and all of us dancing onstage at one point, we headed back to the hotel. Tomorrow we were leaving, and we had an early morning. We tried to catch a cab at the door, and he stopped so we got in. It only took about forty seconds for us to realize the cabbie thought we were drunk enough to pay him roughly $15 more than was standard, so we told him to pull over and jumped out of that cab with a huff. Stupid jerk.

We caught another cab who charged us the correct amount and took us straight home. As I always do after spending a night or day taking lots of pictures, upon reaching the room I instantly reached into my coat pocket to review my memories of the night and day--earlier that day we'd seen Charlie Gibson on the Great Wall, remember, and in addition to the several Great Wall selfies I had on that memory card, I also was one of only two people in the group who had gotten the class pic with Charlie on my camera. Unfortunately, that camera wasn't in that pocket. Nor was it in my pants. Nor was it in my purse. Nor was it anywhere in my bed, on my floor, in my suitcase, or anywhere within reach.

My camera was halfway across Beijing in the back of a cab. I flipped out. What you must understand about me is the only things more important and valuable to me than my camera are basically my family and friends. That's it. Pictures are so important to me, which is why I was having a heart attack/meltdown/panic attack/crying, drunken fit all at once. After I finally came to the conclusion that my camera was in that cab (I know for fact that I had it when leaving the club), I went to the concierge and explained the situation. Although I hadn't seen it fall out, I thought it was left in the cab that brought us girls home, which was a relief because Misha still had the receipt with the driver's name and cab number on it. The concierge called the company, but unfortunately the guy was on the clock for another hour or so, and then would drive the cab home for the night. It was all he could do for the time being, but he said he'd try calling again in a bit and let me know if/when they got hold of the gentleman who'd driven us back.

I thanked him, went back to bed and wept, hoping with all my heart that my camera and I would be reunited again by morning. Of course, this is my story, and Jeanine is not known for her good luck and happy endings...sad, but true. She is, however, good at learning life lessons the hard way, through terrible mistakes. This was one of them.

We left the following day as planned. They had finally spoken to the driver, but he checked the cab and had found nothing. My camera never turned up and I never got to give it one last goodbye. All I truly wanted was that memory card....my memory card, the one with all of my Beijing memories, none of which (stupidly) had been backed up on my laptop prior to being lost to the city.

That last night in Beijing wasn't all bad; in fact, before that horrible moment, everything about it seemed perfect and surreal. I've decided that either a.) my camera was stolen by another passenger who rode that cab home after we did, memory card tossed while camera was sold on the black market, or b.) my camera fell out of my pocket in our 40-second ride in jerko's cab, for him to find later and do with it whatever he did. I like to believe the latter option, because it restores my faith in humanity (and Beijing folk) slightly. Jerks are everywhere, but I hate believing another cab rider could've found my camera with all my pictures and just taken it. I refuse to think that.

So, anyway, I have another camera now...my old one, in fact, which is a little junkier than my faithful red, but still takes pictures alright. Times have moved on, and Beijing is just a place in my memory once again. There were tons of pictures of me on other people's cameras, so I collected all of those after the trip and now I won't have to lose that visual evidence that I was there. I did all those things I've just told you about, and I came back alright. Better the camera be sold on the black market than me, right?

Overall, I had a fantastic time in Beijing, a week-long experience I wouldn't trade for the world. China was just the first stepping stone, and what a way to begin what I hope will be a lifetime of worldly travels. Four months later, I sit here packing and prepping for my 2.5 week stay in Ireland, Scotland and England....little by little, I'm seeing this world, and it's a more beautiful place than any camera can capture.