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Top 5 Romantic European City Breaks

14/2/2019

Valentine’s Day is upon us with its penetrating gaze and engulfing clutches and those of you currently beholden to the throes of romance may be considering an overseas adventure to celebrate your enduring/temporal/opportune affections. As escapism is ‘better than any drug’ (Prison Break) and ‘travelling is like flirting with life’ (Lisa St. Aubin de Teran), there is no surer way to nourish a nascent romance than taking a trip together to a foreign land. Thus, playing cupid, I have compiled a list of my top 5 romantic European city breaks:

5. Amsterdam
The Venice of the North inspires long strolls along the (c)anal paths, intimate afternoons spent lazily in coffee shops and steamy nights in the Centrum. Full of impressive architecture, history, art and hard-core sex clubs, it caters for all kinds of couples and interpretations of romance.

Romantic Recommendations:
-Contemplate the Old Masters’ creations at the Rijksmuseum.
-Investigate sex and love throughout the ages at Venustempel Sex Museum.
-Embrace Eros and catch a live show at Casa Rosso.

4. Athens
Alcuin said that ‘at Athens, wise men propose, and fools dispose’ and what better location to cement your spot in the 70% Club than the birthplace of western civilisation? With layers of history underneath your humble feet, explore ancient monuments and create new love stories.

Romantic Recommendations:
-Visit the Parthenon; a striking symbol of eternity.
-Drink too much Ouzo at a rooftop bar overlooking the Acropolis whilst gazing lovingly into one another’s eyes.
-Hike up Lycabettus Hill together and enjoy unbeatable views of the sprawling metropolis as you contemplate the insignificance of humanity.

3. Lisbon
Situated on seven hills overlooking the Atlantic, bursting with terracotta houses and Moorish architecture, Lisbon screams romance in the age of immaculate Instagram feeds. The city is far more carefree than nearby European capitals, with a laid-back Mediterranean spirit and small, winding streets, the muttering retreats, which seem to go nowhere and everywhere.

Romantic Recommendations:
-Go to Sintra- a hopelessly idyllic hilltop setting full of fairy-tale palaces, castles and gardens.
-Delve into your darker side in the shadow of the overpowering gothic architecture at Jerónimos Monastery.
-Saunter the streets of Alfama and sample several of its wine bars.

2. Istanbul
The crossroad of the East and West sparks inspiration within all who dare to wander its well-trodden streets. For millennia it has exhilarated writers, statesmen, scientists, artists and explorers alike, and its romantic potency continues to impregnate all who enter its gigantic gaze. Romanticist Lamartine went as far as claiming ‘if one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul.’

Romantic Recommendations:
-Visit the magnificent Blue Mosque- imposing, impressive and of immortal beauty.
-Wander the Grand Bazaar and try not to be fools in love.
-Take a ferry to the Prince’s Islands and cycle round one of the antiquated, unspoiled islands.

1. Rome
Rome embodies everything my limited/tainted/disillusioned view of romance leads me to believe in. The city is saturated with romantic history, architecture and art. It is sensual, seductive and stimulating. No city has ever awakened such amorous sentiments within myself, and in my enlivened eyes Rome is the true city of romance.

Romantic Recommendations:
-In the veritable spirit of romance visit the Keats-Shelley House by the Spanish Steps.
-Declare your undying love for each other at the enduring and epic Colosseum.
-Visit The Villa Borghese- nothing screeches eternal love quite like looking into the crazed eyes of Carravaggio’s Bacchus.

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The mystery that is Molise

20/1/2019

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Eloise Evans

Rome, Florence, Milan, the list of famous Italian cities is endless, but have you ever heard of Campobasso? Almost certainly not. Situated 700 metres up in the Apennine mountains, it is the capital of the region of Molise. Undeniably the least well-known region in the whole of Italy. Molise is so obscure that there is a running joke among Italians that in fact, it does not exist: Molisn’t. So, what happens when you get allocated there for 8 months of your year abroad?
Well, firstly: panic. After a few frantic Google searches, this feeling is heightened. A three-hour train journey from the nearest airport, it’s safe to say that it’s rather isolated. Can I get out of this? Not easily. How will I visit my friends? Not easily. How do I even get there? Again, not easily. Imagining a tiny village in the middle-of-nowhere Italy, probably with no one my age, and definitely no one who would speak a word of English, my year abroad anxieties continued to grow until the day of my flight.

After (many) hours of travelling, I arrived. Was I scared? Beyond belief. Was I overreacting? Definitely. Yes, it’s unbelievably hard to get to: the train journey from Rome to Campobasso takes longer than the flight from Gatwick to Rome; and no, it’s definitely not a place for tourists: there’s a castle and a fair few churches… that’s as close as it gets to tourist attractions. But it’s about the same size as Durham and even has the one thing that Durham infamously lacks: a McDonald’s.

Molise lies on the east coast of Italy and is a tiny region that once belonged to its neighbouring region Abruzzo. It has its own university, so contrary to my expectation, there are plenty of young people here, and I live with two girls who study medicine there. I am working as a teaching assistant with the British Council, and I'll admit that Molise definitely wasn't my first choice! I was allocated here and despite my worries, it has been a great experience so far. I work in a secondary school alongside three English teachers, and, as an assistant, my work varies lesson to lesson. With younger classes, I mostly help with pronunciation (they refuse to believe me when I tell them that “caught” isn't pronounced “coach”), with older classes I tend to lead the classes and try, sometimes to no avail, to get them speaking English. My school is flexible and have happily rearranged my hours to give me time to travel and see friends. Only working 12 hours has given me plenty of time to watch Netflix… I mean, do my TLRP… and even join a gym- which anyone who knows me will tell you is practically a miracle!

For someone trying to improve their Italian, this place is ideal. Hardly anyone will speak to you in English because, other than English teachers at school, barely anyone here is able or willing speak it (including the children who learn it!). Although I miss the home comforts of Tesco and Greggs, I have to say that this really isn’t a bad place to live. Perhaps though, I will not have to be dragged, kicking and screaming to the airport in January, which is what I had previously envisaged.

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Siena’s Palio: Not just a horse race

11/11/2018

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Hannah Turner

Siena’s Palio is culminated in a 90 second horserace held twice a year in the Piazza del Campo that dates back to the 14th century. I have learnt from my first month living in Siena, however, that it means much more than a simple horse race to the population of Siena. Within minutes of arriving into Siena, my taxi driver informed me that I was very lucky to be in the city during what was not only deemed ‘The Palio’ but an ‘extraordinary Palio’. From then on the theme of the ‘extraordinary Palio’ persisted in almost every conversation I had with Italians and soon became impossible to ignore.

Siena is split into thirteen ‘contrade’, or districts, with each district having its own flag, song, church and horse to race in the Palio event. With the most anticipated event of Siena’s calendar just weeks away, I was fortunate enough to experience the historical rituals prior to the horse race from my bedroom window because I live opposite the church of Nicchio’s, my district’s, church. Constant parades, singing, drum processions and flag throwing filled the streets for weeks prior to the main event. It became clear that the event was an outlet to demonstrate civic pride and created an atmosphere of anticipation as the countdown to the iconic horse race commenced.

With less than two weeks until the horse race, ten districts out of the thirteen districts were drawn to race. This in itself was a public and highly anticipated affair in the Piazza del Campo packed full of locals. As each chosen district was announced a celebratory chant started from a different corner of the piazza, whilst simultaneously causing several fistfights between rival districts. It became clear that the Palio is vital part of the lives of the members of the districts, as displays of joy and anger filled the Piazza.

As I walked home from my lecture the following evening, my street was filled with long tables and chairs for the celebratory ‘Contrada Dinner’. The selected districts communally ate, drank and sang together in the days leading up to the event. Every member of the district, from children to adults, all sported their district’s flag around their shoulders as a signal of their identity. The horse race was clearly used to unite the community of the individual districts, whilst also dividing the city as whole in the run up to the main event.

With three days to go, my walk to lectures became increasingly more difficult as crowds of people dressed in medieval outfits coupled with horses dominated the streets of Siena. The horses and their respective jockeys were parading the streets before one of the few trial runs on the piazza before the main event. It was incredible to witness the horses charging around the square with the local people judging the horses’ performance as they ride past. The sheer amount of noise from the galloping horses and the cheers of support from the local people created a truly unique atmosphere.

When race day finally arrived, my flat was full of my flat mates’ friends and family members who travelled to witness the famous event. There seemed to be only one topic of conversation – which district will win. Talks of corruption and districts making pacts between other districts came into play in this discussion. In fact, even the police could not intervene in the 90 seconds of pure anarchy in the piazza. There is only one rule; the jockeys cannot touch the reins of another jockey. Pushing a jockey off the horse, whipping another jockey, making deals at the start line - anything goes.

With little under five hours until the race commenced, it was time to stand in the blazing heat in the piazza to get a good spot. Intermittent loud bangs signified the countdown, while impeccably dressed politically important members of the districts watched from the balconies. Medieval-style parades flooded the square, with multi-coloured flags lighting up the piazza. We were positioned near the finishing line, with a good view of the panoramic square. Finally, the competing horses got into position at the starting line. The buzz of the crowds was electric.

After much stalling and last minute deals between the jockeys, the ten bare backed horses and their experienced riders shot off the starting line. The crowds went wild as they all tried to catch a glimpse of their horse. The first lap was breath-taking as the ten horses filled the track at full speed, accompanied by the raucous shouts of the local people. Lap two. On the second bend of the track, a jockey crashed into the wall and fell. The horses continued. Another jockey fell and another. Within fifteen seconds all ten horses went from having riders to two. Chaos as a crash on the second bend caused a pile up. The horses continued at full speed. A horse with no rider crossed the finishing line first. Celebration commenced, as the horse without a rider won for the ‘Tartuca’ district. All the seemingly obvious questions – ‘what happened to the jockeys?’ ‘Are the horses that were in the crash okay?’ did not seem to matter. The ‘extraordinary Palio’ finally had a winner, who could celebrate their luck into the small hours of the morning.

The evening of the event consisted of partying in the streets for ‘Tartuca’ or crying in the streets for the other districts. However, the event that brought the city together began to divide the city once more as news arose that one of the horses was fatally injured during the event, and a jockey was seriously injured. One of my teachers justified the brutality by saying and ‘the Palio will never stop’ and ‘it is tradition’, whilst another saying ‘when a horse dies part of herself dies with it’. I find it hard to come to a clear opinion on whether the notion of tradition justifies the brutality of the event, with an average of one horse dying each year as a consequence the Palio. It is certain, however, that the Palio and all the historical and cultural significance that comes with it, is embedded into the lives of the people of Siena to the extent that the brutality is often brushed over. I do not suspect the end to this distinct horse race is nigh…

The exciting, historical race continues to thrive in modern times

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A Weekend in Athens

16/10/2018

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A clear and calm night outside the Greek Parliament

I first visited Athens when I was 15, and in the midst of the nation’s financial crisis, the hellenic capital seemed grey, gloomy and not nearly exciting enough to be the home of Socrates or hedonism. However, I visited again this year and my perception completely changed. The city was so vibrant, colourful and young. Filled with creative restaurants, new lively bars and amazing street art, it definitely captured my imagination and heart. Less busy and far cheaper than the classic weekend getaways such as Rome, Barcelona and Paris, I would definitely recommend it as either a romantic weekend away or a fun-fuelled escape.

Although Athens conjures up images of Ancient Greek antics, most of the city is very modern and built after the birth of the young Greek nation. Aside from the looming acropolis and occasional homoerotic statue, there are few traces of ancient Greece, and the modern culture is far more prevalent and exciting than its ancestral cousin.

Go to Athens not for the history, as there are far superior places in Greece to immerse yourself in the world of the ancients, but for the food, the art and the fun. Live in the present and explore modern galleries, eat the best of Greek cuisine, and pay homage to Dionysus at one of Athens’ many rooftop bars. Stay away from tourists in the lively student area of Kerameiko, where the best bars, kookiest coffee shops and most innovative restaurants are found. Here you can really relax and enjoy the laid-back Athenian lifestyle.

A city fit for gods

Where to Stay:

-The House, Kerameiko is a boutique hotel aimed at travellers who appreciate a like-minded community. Perfect for young couples, the location is good and the interior is definitely inspired. I particularly loved the tree inspired showers.

-Quinta, Neapoli was created by three Athenian students who converted a retro town house into a hostel and guest house. Located in an area known for political protests, street art, lively tavernas and delicious street food.

Where to Eat:

-Seychelles, Kerameiko is my favourite restaurant in the Capital. Away from the usual tourist route, the food is as attractive as it is appetising, as the menu changes to reflect seasonal produce, and the atmosphere is hedonistic and sultry.

-Tzitzikas & Mermigas, Syntagma is a classic Athenian haunt. Always busy and usually filled with politicians, local artists, international tourists, well-heeled Athenians of all ages and naturally, great food and wine. Located near to the tourist hot-spots, but definitely not a tourist trap.

Where to Drink:

-Couleur Locale is my favourite bar in Athens. The rooftop has stunning view of the Acropolis, great music, and is usually packed with young and fun locals. Their Paloma cocktails are incredible.

-GB Roof Garden, Grande Bretagne Hotel, Syntagma Square. A decadent rooftop garden atop of Athens' finest hotel, this rooftop bar is anything from lowkey, but drinking a glass of champagne up here whilst gazing across at the Acropolis is simply a must in Athens.

Lara Gibson

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Moroccan Adventure

25/1/2017

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I first visited Morocco when I was 17 years old and fell in love with the vibrant culture and warmth of the people. Returning a few years later on my Gap Year, I spent a month in the desert, living amongst a Bedouin tribe, and working on a project to promote the Moroccan Sahara to European travellers. Even as a solo female traveller, I always felt safe and found travelling around very straightforward. Inspired by such marvellous memories from this magical country (and with return flights from London for under £50), I decided to spend the last two weeks of my Christmas holidays exploring as much of the beautiful country as I could on a very tight budget.

Trying to pack in as much as possible in a short time, we decided to start in Marrakech, then go to Meknes, Fes, Chefchaouen, and finally Rabat. Travelling with my boyfriend meant that we would stay in authentic guest houses (/riad/s) rather than hostel bunk beds; courtesy of the brilliant ©Airbnb, we found lots of lovely accommodation, meeting so many gracious hosts along the way. With constant sunshine and temperatures around 20ºC, it is a really great time of year to really lose yourself in this diverse, diverting land.

Marrakech

The first stop on our list was a memorable one: a must-visit location for any traveller. With endless accommodation choices from luxury hotels to fun, budget party hostels, sprawling /souk/s (markets) and ancient, historic sites pretty much everywhere, it’s easy to see why millions of travellers flock to the hub of Moroccan tourism every year.

We spent two nights here, and as everything is within walking distance, we managed to explore the city well before hopping on the train to our next destination. Tourism is very developed here, and it’s also one of the few places in Morocco where you can get away with speaking English, so it’s probably the best place to start if you’ve never been to the country before.

Here are my top three recommendations:

> Get lost in the sprawling souks, which last for miles and sell everything from artisanal leather goods to camel rugs and TV aerials. You can easily spend an afternoon weaving between the stalls and accidently end the day with a rogue henna tattoo, a new bag, lots of spices, and a rug.

> Visit the impressive ruins of El Badi Palace, once home to the powerful Saadian dynasty. Today, as you walk through the imposing palatial walls and underground passages, you truly get a sense of how magnificent the palace used to be. Walk on top of the Palace walls for some unreal views of the city.

> Enjoy a mint tea on a rooftop terrace overlooking the Jemaa El-Fna. Every night is truly alive in this expansive square, filled with countless street performers and thousands of tourists. Also, definitely head to the street food section — this is where we ate some of the best food in Morocco!

Meknes

After a few days in the lively Marrakech, we headed north to the beautiful former capital Meknes. Much more laid-back than the better-known tourist cities, this was one of my favourite places to visit. With its chilled back vibe, winding narrows streets, ancient palaces, and classic Medina, it’s an enchanting place to visit.

I would recommend staying at Riad La Boheme, a beautiful 400-year old /riad/, in the heart of the Medina. It’s a stunning accommodation choice for a good price, and the hosts Amal and Dave are so friendly and hilarious.

> The nearby town of Volubilis is an unmissable sight. This extensive Roman town in the rolling green hills is one of the most important historical sites in the country, and I personally found it even better than Pompeii. Also, rather than splash on an expensive tour, jump in a shared taxi from Meknes for 10DH, (£0.85). Squashed in with some friendly locals, why not take the opportunity to chat with them on the 40-minute journey?

> Walk all around the vast city walls, and visit the old, ruined royal stables, winding your way along the crumbling, narrow passages.

> The beautiful hilltop town of Moulay Idriss, home of Morocco’s most famous saint, is a very famous Islamic pilgrimage site. Visit his mausoleum, and climb all the way to the top of the town for some unreal views!

Fes

Despite its popularity amongst travellers, Fes was probably my least favourite place on the trip. It has a very masculine atmosphere and lacked the beauty of the other places. Its main attractions are the huge tanneries and confusing maze of souks. Although unmissable if you want to buy a Fes, it’s not really worth spending too much time here, and it’s definitely inferior to its main tourist rival Marrakech.

> Visit the huge tanneries, where lots of fair trade leather goods are made in the traditional ways. Also a very good place to stock up on unique leather goods, there are so many cool backpacks; however, be warned: shop owners will try to make you pay an unreasonable amount of money, so haggle to reach a better price.

> Visit the nearby mountain town of Ifrane. Built to look like a Swiss ski resort, it is home to lots of wild monkeys.

> Discover tucked away medieval mosques, rooftop terraces, and animal skins hanging everywhere, or get lost in the seemingly infinitely winding souks...

Chefchaouen

I could have spent weeks at Chefchaouen, a hippie hilltop town and former Spanish enclave in the north where all the buildings are blue. This laid-back backpackers’ paradise is one of the most beautiful places that I have ever visited, and I loved every second here. Surrounded by mountain paths, national parks, and waterfalls, it's ideal for nature lovers.

> Wander the relaxed blue medina full of artisanal goodies and unique jewellery.

> Go hiking! Definitely a highlight of my trip: following the mountain footpath, we hiked all the way up to the highest peak. At 1800m, it’s a difficult climb, but it’s definitely worth it as the views are amazing. After our 7-hour hike, I felt like I could justify feasting on the delicious local goat cheese.

> Relax at the refreshing waterfalls. Perfect for a dip in warmer weather, you might also want to indulge in the local speciality of Kif — the locally grown hash.

Rabat

Not normally a tourist hotspot, I was surprised by how enchanting the capital city of Rabat was. The calm city is made up of the Ville Nouvelle, full of colonial French architecture, bistros, and cafes, as well as the old 12th-century walled medina with its whitewashed buildings and stunning sea views.

> The Kasbah (castle) is one of the most dramatic places in the whole of Morocco. Built on a hill next to the sea, it’s such a stunning area to explore. Entrance is free, and you can easily spend an afternoon exploring its ornate gardens, cafes, and small artisanal shops.

> Go to the beach, perfect for both those who love people-watching and surfing. Board and wetsuit hire is widely available, and the waves are great for beginner/intermediate surfers.

> Slightly further from the centre of town is the Chellah, tombs of a long-gone dynasty, now a wonderfully atmospheric, crumbling set of ruins where storks nest atop truncated minarets, and odd patches of tilework appear through overflowing vegetation.

Although only a short flight away, Morocco is home to ancient cities, modern metropolises, gorgeous coastlines, and remote mountain towns. This gem of a country should definitely be on your travel list!

Written by
Lara Gibson

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Christmas in Bulgaria

25/12/2016

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It can be difficult to talk about how Christmas is celebrated in all of Bulgaria, given that there are so many regional variations and differences in the approach that each family takes to the festive season. So, rather than Christmas in Bulgaria, let’s just say that this is about how Velie’s Bulgarian family celebrates it.

My family celebrates in a very traditional way, which I don’t think is too common in many places. I am fortunate enough to have grandparents who live in the countryside, giving us really traditional Christmas vibes. My grandma used to be a primary school teacher, so she likes doing things as authentically as possible.

Anyway, as far as I’m aware, the night before Christmas is much more important in Bulgaria than Christmas Day itself, since this is traditionally when the fasting period comes to an end and the feasting begins. This still means that Christmas Eve dinner should be vegetarian or, if possible, even vegan.

My family usually sticks to the vegetarian plan, and we try to prepare an odd number of dishes to put on our “table”. This number ought to be very specific on Christmas Eve, so these are the options: seven (for the seven days of the week), nine (for the months of a woman’s pregnancy), twelve (for the months of the year… I know, I know, twelve is even, but that’s just what the tradition says!), or any higher odd number of dishes.

I also said “table” earlier because one of our little touches to the Christmas Eve meal is to set a rug on the floor with straw scattered all around it for the family to sit at and enjoy the feast together. Before starting supper, my oldest relative walks around the room holding lit up incense, passing every family member as a prayer for their health.

One of the most important things on the “table” is a round bread called пита that every family should have — my grandma usually makes ours at home. Somewhere in this bread lies a coin, so everyone hopes they’ll find it in the piece they break off to eat. Whoever does is said to have a very prosperous year ahead of them. My cousins and I happen to find the coin of our пита every single year, so we are beginning to doubt the legitimacy of the whole deal. My Grandma promises that she has nothing to do with it, saying that we always get it because we deserve it the most and, being the youngest, we are the luckiest ones too...

There should be an icon of Christ or the Virgin Mary on the table or somewhere near it. The first piece of the пита is placed in front of it and isn’t for anyone in the family. The second piece of bread is for the house and is left aside too. It is only then that the family members are allowed to take some of the bread for themselves. Whichever piece is yours, the first bite shouldn’t be eaten, but saved and placed under your pillow before you go to sleep. It is said that whatever you dream that night will come true!

Breaking the walnuts is also an important part of the Christmas Eve dinner. At the end of the meal, each family member chooses one (you get to look and examine them as much as you wish) and breaks theirs. It is said that if the fruit of your walnut is full and fresh, you will have a good year; however, if there is nothing inside the shell and it’s just dry and rotten, your year won’t be that great either.

The коледари are another interesting Bulgarian twist to Christmas traditions. Some are young children who go from door to door on the morning of Christmas Eve or Christmas Day (depending on the region); they shout ‘Коледо!’ (Christmas!) and invite people to begin their Christmas celebrations. After giving them candies, fruit, or any small treats, they send them off to the next house. The other коледари are men and teenage boys who have learned and rehearsed Christmas songs. Sometimes they are invited into people’s homes on Christmas Eve to sing for the family in the evening. They are dressed in traditional Bulgarian clothes (носии) and carry a long wooden stick to help them get through the snow.

In the villages where they uphold the tradition of коледари, women bake these small, plaited bread wreaths called краваи. After the коледари have sung their songs, the hosts of the houses put the Christmas loaves onto the wooden sticks they carry. Unfortunately, this particular custom is becoming more and more rare and is performed in very few places nowadays. I have never actually seen adult коледари singing on Christmas Eve for myself!

These are the main Bulgarian Christmas traditions that I know of, but we have many more interesting things going on after Christmas (like men jumping into ice cold water to retrieve crucifix). I’m sure that every Bulgarian will tell you a different story as to exactly how we celebrate this beautiful holiday.

Written by
Veleka Georgieva

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Ten Reasons Why Everyone Should Go to Colombia

19/11/2016

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It’s not all cartels and cocaine!

1. The scenery:
With its white-sand beaches, tropical rainforests, lost cities, and plunging valleys, Colombia is an absolutely stunning country that really does have it all!

2. The people:
As cliché as it sounds, Colombians are some of the friendliest people you will ever meet. Despite how much it has changed in 20 years, their tourism industry is recovering following the end of the drugs war, so locals are always thrilled to show tourists all that the country has to offer.

3. The language:
The form of Spanish spoken in Colombia is one of the clearest and easiest to pick up as a non-native speaker and with 47 million friendly locals to help you out, it’s an ideal place to go and learn!

4. The food:
Colombia is a nation that loves its food. If you’re feeling brave, you can try hormigas culonas (literally big-ass ants). For the less adventurous, trying arepas, ajiaco, bandeja paisa, patacon, and cocadas, all washed down with a freshly pressed juice blended right in front of you, should be enough to show you just how proud Colombians are of their amazing cuisine – that’s if if the portion sizes weren’t enough to convince you already!

5. The coffee:
Colombian coffee deserves a mention of its own. Grown mainly in the Eje Cafetero region just outside Medellín, Colombia is the third largest producer of coffee in the world. One of the best places to sample it is the tiny, picturesque town of Salento. Surrounded by 60-metre-high palm trees and hummingbird sanctuaries, you can tour the fincas sipping freshly roasted coffee that was grown right there.

6. The street art:
The street art – This is by far one of the best things about Bogotá - to call the street art here ‘graffiti’ would be a huge understatement. Dozens of companies offering donation-based tours of the city pointing out the works and telling you about the artists who create them on a daily basis make it a must do in Bogota!

7. The parties:
From salsa on the streets of Cali to Reggaeton in the clubs of Bogotá or Medellín, Colombians know how to have a good time, and with the clubs open until well beyond the Durham standard 2am, you’ll be able to stay out well past your bedtime...

8. The football:
It may not have the huge stadiums, the big screens, or even the basic loudspeakers and scoreboards of the Premier League, but football in Colombia is a ritual. A trip to the country would be incomplete without venturing down to the local estadio, donning an Atlético shirt and getting stuck in!

9. The cities:
Statistically, you are more likely to be eaten by a shark in Australia than you are to be kidnapped in Bogotá and the murder rate in Colombia is lower than in a considerable number of major US cities. Long gone are the days when all-powerful, mega-rich drug cartels terrorised the streets. Medellín, which used to be the most dangerous city in the world from the 1980s to 2003, is now a modern, cosmopolitan, up-and-coming city.

10. The adventure:
Whether it’s scuba diving on the Caribbean coast, paragliding over Medellín, or finding Lost Cities in the Tayrona National park, Colombia is full of things to keep you exploring!

Check out Harriet's blog to read more about her adventures in South America!

Written by
Harriet Good

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How to get robbed in Costa Rica (and what to do afterwards)

25/1/2016

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Do not let the title put you off! If there is ever a country to visit in Central America, it has to be Costa Rica! One of the happiest and most peaceful countries in the world (a fact that is entirely justified as they don’t even possess armed forces), it is replete with hippie markets; small beach towns full of chilled out surfers and people living a healthy lifestyle; locals who just want to chat with you and try out some of their English or test your Spanish. Above all, its population are the living embodiment of ‘Pura Vida’: a colloquial phrase that is applied in every circumstance, from shrugging off breaking something to a cheers or even just 'hello'.

However, after spending four weeks as part of a volunteering project (first working on a teaching project in the slums of La Carpio, just outside the capital of San José then in the Osa Peninsula at a turtle conservation project) complacency crept up on me and my travelling companion. We had been staying with Costa Rican families who looked after us like we were their own (which included motorbike rides in bikinis and flip-flops through the jungle as well as copious amounts of rice and beans) so felt like we were part of the local community. As we spent our last ten days travelling up the coast after our project finished, we had encountered so many incredibly friendly and safe people that, despite our classic English tourist looks (complete with bumbags!), neither of us was as diligent as the beginning of our trip.

For anyone on our bus from Manuel Antonio (a stunning national park definitely worth visiting) to Puntarenas, it would have been obvious that we were two sleepy gringas. And, despite noticing the man who had been sitting across the aisle from us move to the seat behind us, we put it down to an unwelcome side-affect of being young, foreign and fair-haired, as that had previously given us unsolicited attention from men that have a very machista mind-set. It wasn’t until we reached our destination, however, that I realised why he had moved and subsequently had a panic attack due to the loss of everything of importance I had- my passport, US Visa, money, credit card, camera, phone, iPod are all probably on the Costa Rican black market.

Thankfully, as a whole, Costa Ricans are always willing to help. Not a single person spoke English at the police station that we were taken to by a local taxi driver, so I croaked out some ab initio Spanish through my tears that they then tried their best to interpret so as to fill out the police report crucial for applying for a new Visa, passport and insurance. In addition, as it was just a local police station, there was also no phone that could make international calls, so I had to rely on the Ambassador of the British Embassy relaying a call to my parents at 1a.m. their time, which apparently isn’t the nicest thing to receive. Fortunately, a wonderful policeman at the station was making the 3-hour drive to San José and offered us a ride to a hostel that he had found for us a few hundred metres from the Embassy, where I had an appointment first thing the next morning.

Once at the embassy, one important thing to do is to phone your insurance company immediately, but I was also given the phone and told to contact whoever I needed to back in the UK, courtesy of the incredible staff at the embassy, who welcomed us with real English tea. If a return flight goes through the US (as mine did), the temporary ESTA attached to your passport cannot be used as you are no longer in possession of said passport, therefore a full US Visa ($160) plus an emergency passport (£100) must be purchased. Luckily, I was travelling with a friend, otherwise I would not have been able to do anything, as you cannot collect money that has been wired from someone without a suitable form of ID, and I had neither ID nor money.

I was conveniently robbed three days before our flight- just enough time to process a US Visa and not too long in the grey city of San José- so we managed to see friends in the capital, watch an inordinate number of episodes of Silent Witness and make our own granola in the wait for a passport.
Despite many great adventures throughout my summer in Costa Rica and stories that I’ll never forget (robbery is a great talking point), if I have learnt anything, it is that getting robbed is an expensive business and not one I’m in a hurry to repeat anytime soon.

Written by
Katharine Campkin

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Full Immersion...In Durham

24/12/2015

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Most of my second-year friends have chosen the expected housing option for this year - they are renting a house with their college friends, or people they met on their respective courses.

My living arrangements, however, vary somewhat from the traditional model. Signing my housing contract significantly later than most turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I live with two German Erasmus students, neither of whom I knew before my return to Durham in October.

At breakfast each morning I am fortunate to hear the melody of fluent German. My daily immersion in the language even extends to our house WhatsApp group conversation, through which we organise cleaning rotas, discuss our plans for the weekend, and decide who’s going to buy the next Toilettenpapier.

The three of us seemed to ‘click’ right from the first weekend together. On our first evening, my housemates introduced me to the classic German comedy “Fack Ju Gӧhte“, pausing it continuously so as to interpret fast bits of colloquial German which I struggled to follow. My unique exposure to German popular culture and Jugendsprache has proven invaluable for authenticity in oral classes, and has built up my confidence for the Year Abroad.

One of my housemates shares my passion for multilingual music. Over the past three months, she has introduced me to a wide variety of German rap, hip-hop, pop, indie and rock, which we dance to around the house. We even went to an indie rock concert together, which was an experience like no other. We chatted comfortably in German, then English, then back to German, for the duration of the train journey. As we searched for the venue through the streets of York, we were in hysterics at the German voice navigation accent on my housemate’s Google Maps app. Needless to say, we attracted some bemused looks from the monolingual passers-by…

For a proactive, sociable languages student like myself, our housing arrangement could not be more perfect. Whether I have a grammar query, an upcoming German oral presentation, or simply require a comforting presence, both girls are always happy to help me. I see them as the sisters I never had. My second year has been enriched culturally and linguistically through this lucky living arrangement, and I feel I have gained the best of both worlds – a fun, supportive household, and two wonderful friends.

Written by
Grace Bentham

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Willkommen Zum Oktoberfest!

24/12/2015

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Every year from mid-September to early October more than 6 million people flock to Munich to attend the world’s largest beer festival - the Oktoberfest. Held since 1810, the 16-day event attracts local Bavarians and tourists from all over the world. In summer 2015, I had the opportunity to experience Germany’s most famous Volksfest, which offers fairground rides and delicious food as well as traditional Bavarian beer.

On arriving in Munich, what first struck me was the scale of the event.  Having filled S-Bahn carriages, thousands of people dressed in Dirndl and Lederhosen were swarming through the streets towards the Wiesn (local name for the Oktoberfest).  The size of the site, covering 162 hectares, was highly impressive.  Countless tents are scattered across the area, allowing you to take a seat, drink litres of beer (Germans don’t do pints) and engage in drunken revelry.

Although I could constantly hear German speakers, I didn’t feel like an outsider.  This wasn’t only because I can speak the language, but also because there were many visitors from all over the world.  Tourists are certainly welcome in the tents, where I was pleasantly surprised to see Germans laughing at Brits dancing on the tables and chanting along to cheesy hits like DJ Otzi’s ‘Hey Baby’.

However, the Oktoberfest isn’t just about getting merry.  Across the site there are stalls selling a variety of traditional Bavarian food.  I was lucky enough to try warm pretzels served with Obatzda, a tasty cheese-butter spread, the recipe for which I was kindly given by my German friend’s mother.  Local cuisine is also served in the tents, although at a higher price.  But after a few beers, who would say no to mouthwatering dishes such as Schweinebraten (roast pork), Knödel (dumplings) or Käsespätzle (cheese noodles)?

Another important part of the beer festival is the fairground rides.  Once again spread throughout the grounds, they provide entertainment for adults and children alike, ranging from dodgems to theme park sized rollercoasters.  My German friend and I had a go on a dizzying ride where the floor dropped and we ended up sticking to the wall - I’d never experienced anything like it.

Overall I would certainly recommend paying a visit.  While such an event might turn into an unpleasant binge drinking fest elsewhere, the Germans manage every year to pull off hosting a welcoming and relatively safe festival that has inspired similar celebrations throughout the world.

Written by
Lucy Woods

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