American Apparel for the WORLD

Now that information and popular culture spreads so easily over borders and onto our computer screens, everyone in the whole wide world looks like they stepped out of an American Apparel advertisement.

I am sick of it. Admittedly, I sometimes look this way as well. But only sometimes!

Je suis à Paris! Ce soir, je visiterais Le Louvre parce qu'il est gratuit le vendredi soir pour des jeunes et jolies filles comme moi--teehee. Ah, alors; c'est gratuit pour les hommes aussi.

Foods of the Czech Republic

Eating (and drinking) much? Oh yes. Animal lovers may want to avoid this post as the food staples are: HUGE hunks of meat, potato dumplings, and cabbage. Photos from Praha.


Firstly: REAL Budweiser. Drinkers of the American crap have no idea what they're missing. For more info on the brewery and the imbroglio over the Budweiser trademark, head to good ol' Wikipedia.


Half of a roast duck, some potato "dumplings", cabbage


Potato dumplings stuffed with ham, bacon, etc. with cabbage.


Roast pork "knuckle" -- the fatty knee of the pig. It is served with some mustard and a few greens for colour.


Pork ribs with some tangy sauce, mayo, and garlic bread.


Cannabis Ice Tea is big; obviously, only the tourists are buying this stuff out of curiosity.


I <3 Czech "dumplings" and cabbage.

Note: cabbage makes you seriously gassy.
Note 2: The Czech Republic is still relatively cheap! Head there whilst they've still got Kcs as the currency of choice.

Wien, in brief

Still in Berlin... enjoying myself immensely with the knowledge of the local chow and booze courtesy of Eliot and co. But, again, feel like I need to quickly review before we get too far ahead. This instalment: Wien (aka, Vienna).


Wien's public transpo: very clean and efficient--unlike someee cities we know. Ahem.


All the streets are super cute even if recently rained upon. This is a photo from the tram stop (Line D) on Porzellangasse where I was staying.


So while in Wien, I saw a lot of museums--I mean a LOT. The Leopold Museum, however, was my favourite as it houses the largest Egon Schiele collection in the world. I LOVE Egon Schiele.


(Example of his work. I particularly love his sketches as he does excellent figures from varied perspectives. And also, I--much like Schiele--don't particularly care for drawing hands and feet. Many of his sketches and works will surreptitiously avoid those parts of the body.)

Aside from the Schiele collection, the Leopold and MOMUK museums in MuseumQuartier do an excellent job of tracing the Vienna School of early 20th century art. Good stuff.


View of Wien from Belvedere Palace/art museum. The Belvedere houses the one painting adored by young, femme collegiates the world over: The Kiss. Yeah, I'm not such of fan of it, but seeing it up close I must say: it's spectacular. Just don't ever own a poster of it. Please! I beg you!


Stephansplatz Cathedral in the centre of the city. Gorgeous gothic structure and inspiration for artists the world over. Again, it's not hard to see how artists get their inspirations in Wien.


Panda climbing the Stephanplatz tower.


View of Wien from the top of Stephansplatz Cathedral. Also, notice the gorgeous tiled roof of the cathedral in the foreground.


Schönbrunn Palace. Mind you, this was only a summer home. Ah, to be a Royal.


Lastly... I was really craving Asian food and stopped here not noticing its logo. Yeah, clearly Austria didn't get the memo.

Oh, and there was my Sacher torte photo from earlier... the recipe is still going to get posted, eventually!

Ok and gutenacht!

Romania, in brief

Hi. Currently enjoying Berlin, but I kind of wanted to do a photo/info dump before I got too much further ahead in my travels. These photos are fairly unremarkable; that's what happens when you've got no one to pose with/for--lots of photos of buildings!

Looking through my photos, I kind of wish I took a few more in Bucharest. Truth be told, I was kind of frightened of the place and didn't want to draw extra attention to myself by pulling out my camera. Of course, perhaps I am being too quick to judge and frankly all the locals I spoke to (with the exception of one crotchety old man and some younger hoodlummy-types) were all beyond friendly and helpful. It's definitely a place I think would be fun to explore with a local, but as a single, female, Asian traveller, it was kind of like... uh, yeah. Plus, the stray dogs there definitely did not come from the same strain of friendly strays found in much of South America. In fact, was chased down by one--

And so, the only real photos I have of Bucharest involve the Palace of Parliament: Ceauşescu's vision come to reality--almost (still only 90% complete!). Apparently he had the idea to bulldoze what was historic Bucharest and replace it with this monstrosity after a visit to PyongPyang. Dictators are all the same, huh?

So some trivia about the PoP: it is the second largest building in the world based on square footage (Pentagon is the largest). It's got chandeliers, marble, and handwoven carpets up the wazoo!!!!! Construction began in 1983 and is made almost entirely of Romanian materials. Ceauşescu never actually got to use it before he was executed for all his shit in 1989. And lastly, walking around the perimetre of the PoP property at a reasonable pace took 40 (FORTY!!!) freaking minutes in the barely tolerable heat & sun & no trees. Yeah, it's pretty damn big.


Near the Palace of Parliament there were tons of tires on the street. Odd.


Wall surrounding the Palace of Parliament.


Here she be! It may not look that big, but once you're inside--holy crap. Like every room we visited had a square footage over 3,000sq. ft. That's like every room is bigger than my entire freaking house.


A view of more parliementary buildings from the balcony of the Palace of Parliament. I am not sure why they didn't centre this; I mean, putting some flag posts in the middle would have been fairly simple, I feel. (And yes, I was standing in the middle of the balcony).


Outside of Bucharest, Romania is entirely different--though still kind of obviously home to that tacky Eastern European taste (oops! No offense! heh heh). For example, Braşov and nearby Raşnov both have Hollywood-esque signs for their town names. Here is a photo I took standing behind the Braşov one.

The Transylvania region of Romania is definitely worth seeing, and as I mentioned previously, it would be great to rent a car there and drive through it because: there are tons of small towns off the beaten track; everyone out there is exceedingly friendly and hospitable; there are also a lot of great mountains for trekkers and nature lovers; and the architecture is unique with its Saxon influences; oh, and the pizza is surprisingly tasty.


Peleş Castle near Braşov is off the chain! Ok, I've never actually used that expression before and never intend to again. But yah... no photos of the interior b/c you had to pay to photograph (as is typical in Romania, it seems). If you can only visit one castle in the area, skip the "Dracula Castle" (Bran Castle) and visit this one! Bran Castle isn't even Dracula's real castle, anyway. It's all just a tourist trap.

All right. That's enough of my informative update. Good night from Berlin (where I almost met James Franco--HOT--but that's another story.)

Vienna, Prague, and onwards

Last I updated, I was in Vienna having some world-famous Sacher torte:



Yes. They are really deserving of their fame. Initially, I was highly disappointed by my seemingly small slice of torte. Clearly, I would not be getting a dessert the size of my head like I would have been at TGIFs for the €4.80 ($7+) I was paying. But, by the time I finished that thing off, I really could not have taken another bite. Mmmm... torte dreams in muh head.

So when I was at the gift shop of the Schönbrunn Palace and saw a recipe book for Sacher Hotel, I naturally took photos of the cake recipe. The disclaimer in the book says, of course, that the REAL recipe is top secret but that this one would be as close as you could reasonably get. That tart flavouring? Apricot preserves apparently. I thought it was cherry when I had the torte at the hotel. I'll post up the recipe soon (or never, as I am a bad, lazy blogger).

Now I am in Prague in an empty room at the Yasmin Hotel (cute place; horrible, snooty service) that two of my other friends had sprung for (thanks Brad + Ronnie!). Empty room as they have just departed for their early flight to Amsterdam! Meanwhile, in a few hours, I will be checking out and into another hostel before leaving for Berlin the day after. Such is temporary life of the backpacker.

So, thoughts on Prague: lovin' it! In comparison to Vienna, Prague is almost as pretty but seems to be infinitely more lively. Whilst in Vienna chiIlling at a cafe/bar, a cute waiter/bartender chatted me up and gave me the lowdown:

"Vienna is beautiful, but I hate living here. Aside from buildings and museums, the people are rude, the places are tame, and it's expensive" - or some such phrasing.

And I must admit, I did get that feeling while I was there. Of course, I didn't really venture out to enjoy Viennese nightlife as I was too tired from exhaustive museum hopping during the days.

/Begin short update

Arrived in Vienna earlier this afternoon. Beautiful place. Makes me wonder if European cities are just adult fantasylands; they all seem unnaturally pretty. Unfortunately came just in time for the thunderstorms. Had my first real meal in ages (as opposed to the fruit and chips I'd been eating the last couple of days). €2 sammich at the train station; for €2 euro, that thing was awesome--first cheap thing I've encountered in Europe, frankly. Paying through the nose for my hostel. Booking a flight to Toulouse via Paris ASAP so I might enjoy free lodging once more. Planning to be in Prague 18th-22nd; Berlin 22nd-27th; Toulouse thereafter.

/End short update

Picturesque Braşov

This afternoon I was sitting in the courtyard of the nearby St. Nicholas Church thinking, "Ahh, so this is that provincial life of which artists write and paint about." I can't wait to see the French countryside.

The feeling I have of Romania here in Braşov could not be more disparate than the one I had upon arriving in Bucharest. I don't feel like uploading my photos so you can visit this guy's flickr album to get a sense.

Tomorrow I do a lightning speed tour of the nearby castles and fortresses before heading off on the night train to Vienna. Skipping Budapest for the time being as there is some music festival there causing all prices to be exorbitantly high.

Tips for Travellers: if you come to Romania, I highly recommend renting a car and driving through Transylvania. There are too many places you just can't easily see without your own set of wheels.

Next up: Vienna, Prague, Berlin...

Hostel Tina, Bucharest--well meaning but fails

What the heck, MAN. My "hostel"-keeper and his mom left for the day. He said he'd be back by 10am so I could leave this wretched place, but he's not back yet! It's already 11:10am! I have things to do! GAH. So my Bucharest experience is summed up in this coral-coloured leather living room set, stale pretzels, and rowdy dogs.

I just realised I am in the birth country of the beloved ISC.ro. Scrabble fans, rejoice. Now that I am here, it's not surprising that ISC should have been formed here. Aside from being outside the HASBRO sphere of influence, a lot of people here speak English surprisingly well.

Meanwhile, I am annoyed.

23 hours later (Istanbul to Bucharest via train)

The Bosfor Express from Istanbul to Bucharest cost me 82 Turkish Lira and my sanity. Well, actually, it was better than I expected despite being disgustingly hot during the day and 4 hours longer than anticipated; but, when you've been on a train sweating profusely for 19 hours, an extra sweaty four don't seem to make much of a difference.

The main errors of my trip was that a) ate a farewell plate of kofte earlier in the evening causing some unpleasant stomach rumblings; b) aunt flow came in her full gory glory (ha, tmi!)

Then there was the inexplicable rat-tat-tatting at all hours of the night: first by angry customs officials while crossing the Bulgaria border; then randomly every couple of hours by the train-ticket checkers. We were all sleeping blissfully soundly when they'd come barging in demanding to see our train tickets. Literally, this kept happening every couple of hours all through the trip so consecutive hours of sleep were hard to attain.

Shared my 6-person sleeper cabin with 3 other tourist girls so all was good on that front. The two Dutch girls shared some bread crumbs with me after I'd finished all my pitiful rations for the trip. For that I was quite thankful.


Bulgarian countryside - sunflowers galore!


It's muh foot on the window.


Crossing the Danube (Bulgarian-Romanian border)

And thus: I am in Bucharest and can't wait to get out. My "hostel" is in a residential apartment building; it's run by a single dude and his mom. Tonight, I am the only guest. Finding the place--a non-descript communist era apartment bloc--was pretty much impossible especially when it was already dark outside. Also, I came face to face with Bucharest's stray dog problem as one nearly chased me down while I hunted for my hostel. Finally, a kind older man helped me to the apartment.

From what I've seen, the city is bland. Ceauşescu certainly did a good job of ridding the city of all character. Tomorrow, I will do some laundry here at the "hostel", take a quick peek at the Palace of Parliament, and get myself on a train to Braşov and the rest of Transylvania!

In the word's of Ceda mimicking the Count (a la Sesame St.):
One brothel, ah ah ah
Two brothels, ah ah ah
Three brothels, ah ah ah...

(The "BORN INTO BROTHELS" joke lives on.)

I scream, you scream, blah blah

I take back all the vitriol I spewed with regards to Turkish ice cream (dondurma). I had one scoop today in a cherry flavour: heaven! Gave Argentinian helados a run for the money, no doubt.

FYI: dondurma is made from goat's milk and has a slightly stickier texture than traditional ice cream. It's almost like mashed up frozen tapioca.

Bipolar travel; last day in Istanbul

The girls have all left, and now I am booked on a 19 hour train ride to Bucharest departing Sunday, August 10th at 10:00pm. Although going via bus is cheaper, more comfortable, and faster, they don't run on Sundays. Lack of planning = screwed Pandas.

So, I am waiting nervously to see what this train is like. I imagine it can't be far from the long distance busses in China. It'll be like reliving Pop's and my bus trip from Shangri-la to Kunming all over again--multiplied by two:


(The old man squeezing into his "bed" on board the overnight busses in Western China. Even I, at 5'5", barely fit into the bed.)

So we go from the VIP floor of the Hyatt to 6 person "kuşet" sleeper trains to Bucharest. "Only toilet", said the ticket sales clerk.



Walking back from the train station just now in the midday heat, I suddenly remember that trains likely do not have air conditioning. Some quick googling upon my return to the hostel confirms my suspicions. Shit! Let me go back to the Hyatt!!!!

More panoramas courtesy of Ceda

Thanks to Monkey, we are blogging from the VIP eighth floor of the Hyatt Regency, Istanbul. Life is good.

While I can rough it like the best of them, living in the lap of luxury definitely has its perks... like toiletries.


Panorama lounging in the Hyatt pool


Panorama jumping on the Black Sea (in Siles, beach town outside Istanbul)


Panorama mirroring of our HERO in the Topkapi Palace

Istanbul and its people are wonderful. Chinese people need to take service lessons from the Turkish. Werd.

And Turkish men are hoooooot! Mmmm.

Getting technological in Topkapi Palace

Ceda's camera does photo-stitching realllllly well.

So Istanbul is absolutely gorgeous. Cities, unlike women, seem to age quite well. Other cities: talk to me when you're a couple of millennia old.

Hello from Turkey!

Ceda and I are in Istanbul. It's beautiful here.


Badly taken in front of the Blue Mosque.

And now it's time for breakfast at the Spice Bazaar.