Going Global: My Favorite Shots of My Favorite Spots

Check out the slideshow of photos from around the world! I'm not an amazing photographer, but I have been in the presence of amazing landscape. Any locations you see in the slideshow are also featured in previous posts, so dig around in the archives!

Yee-haw: Austin, Y'all!

Don't let Austin's adopted motto scare you, it's really not that "weird" there. Sure, it's the most liberal town in Texas, so that adds a couple points to the weird meter. And yeah, 6^th Street brings out every type of person you could imagine from college kids to middle aged hipsters, so give some points there. And ok, so their mascot is some bizarro alien-frog hybrid that an unstable rock-n-roller spray painted on a wall, but… nevermind, scratch the initial statement. Austin is flat-out weird.

It's also lovable, trendy, and best of all, nothing like the rest of Texas. It's streaming with music, teeming with bars, and crawling with interesting people.

Ever since I got into UT-Austin for graduate school and politely declined their offer, I've craved a trip to the city to see what I missed. I in no way regret attending school in Oxford, but I needed to cure my curiosity of Austin. Cut to my 23^rd birthday and a need for a travel adventure. The players: Mark, Alicia and Sarah. The destination: Austin, TX, baby. Yee-haw!

We booked through Expedia.com and snagged a flight, rental car, and hotel within walking distance of 6^th Street—all for under $350 each. Our economy car ended up being pretty familiar, as it was a Mazda 3. Hotel options abound in downtown Austin, all at reasonable prices, particularly in the midst of January. Radisson ended up being our temporary residence of choice for the weekend, with a double room on the 7^th floor. Good views and even better Sleepnumber beds, I’d probably rock it again and recommend it for the economical traveler.

We arrived in Austin at PPT (Proper Party Time) and after a brief check-in at the hotel, we wandered three blocks up to 6^th Street. This legendary street had a lot riding on it—my expectations were high and I was really banking on it living up to all the hype. Within a few minutes of strolling down the street I knew it would be soon become one of my favorite hotspots for bar-hopping.

Be prepared to make swift decisions because there's a different bar at every angle. We landed at Shakespeare's Pub for the simple reasons that it didn’t have a cover charge, velvet rope at the entrance, or bass-bumping dance jams. Head upstairs to the patio bar and find out the evening's special. Friday was crown & coke night, so we all cheered to that, multiple times.

We met up with Mark's old college buddy, Robert, who he knew from his freshman year of college at Southwestern University (more info on that later). The next few hours we clung to our coveted position at the bustling bar and went through several rounds. Last call signaled it was time to eat and so along with every other boozer out that night, we flowed into the street and bought pizza at Roppolo's. The road is closed off to pedestrians only and it’s a good thing too, considering it filled with hundreds of bar-hoppers with mixed levels of intoxication. A quick walk back to the Radisson with a detour for a few cartwheels reminded me why we invested in a close hotel.

On day two of the Austin adventure, we first had to seek out various hangover remedies, whether it be coffee, bagels, Advil, or just time. Once that was taken of, we ventured out to Georgetown, Texas, home of Southwestern University—Mark’s old stomping grounds. It’s a gorgeous campus, especially if you like limestone. With a student population of only 1,200, it didn’t take long to tour the premises. Mark regaled us with some glory day flashback stories from 1997 and we got a good feel for the campus.

A trip to Austin is pointless without some barbeque. A 45-minute drive south of the city will land you in the middle of no where, but right next door to the middle of no where is Salt Lick—a legendary BBQ joint that's a favorite of Ashley Judd and Matthew McConaughey. If the 45-minute drive wasn't long enough for you, the hour-long wait for a table will certainly bring you closer to your travel companions. Once inside the BBQ shack, there's an alluring mix of meat and smoke and all the fixings for a down-home family style meal. A plate of meat runs for $14 and the all-you-can-eat option will add $20 to your debt and a few pounds to the scale. Make sure to save room for the blackberry cobbler, a must-have treat after all that meat. Though the food was everything we hoped for, I've got to admit, the drive/wait aren't entirely worth it (unless you know for sure Matthew or Ashley will be there). Rudy's isn't just as good as Salt Lick—it's better, and available nationwide.

Saturday night in Austin is just as exciting as Friday night, unless you're still a bit fragile from the night prior. We headed back out to 6^th Street and bar #1 was Maggie Mae’s, a massive tavern with terrible rap-crap upstairs and incredible live music downstairs. Local band Black Tooth played some classic rock mixed in with some soon to be classic rock, like Sublime and The Raconteurs. Reasonably priced drinks and a chill vibe should get you in the door and the music will keep you sticking around. However, come 11 p.m., an influx of annoying people invaded our zone and wrecked our zen, so we explored some other bar options up the street.

Bar #2 enticed us with zero cover charge and an attractive doorman. Friends Bar ended up being the perfect balance of bar and club, so if you're traveling with friends who want to dance, this is the place to be. Luckily, none of my friends do that, so we just bopped our heads along to the beats and chilled with a beer.

The last stop of the evening was a good one—friendly staff, cheap drinks, and a huge selection of food: the H.E.B. grocery store. I highly recommend this Texas institution for a last pit-stop to stock up on some midnight munchies.

Sunday morning we only had to go as far as seven floors to get our daily jolt of caffeine, as the Starbucks is in the hotel lobby (gotta love it). We ventured out to a classic Austin spot for buying tunes and checked out Waterloo Records. We perused the aisles of music and movies for about an hour, but then had to give in to our emerging hunger.

Cue Juan in a Million. This slightly overrated hole-in-the-wall is packed with locals. Don't let the sketchy neighborhood and line out the door detour you, it's not that bad and the wait is only 20 minutes. The main building connects to a covered patio and another house, so there’s plenty of room for hungry, hungover Austinites. We sat at a not so chic, but oh so shabby picnic table and had service that bordered on terrible. The food was fairly lackluster, but under $10, including tip. If there's ever a next time, we'll all be getting the legendary Juan in a Million plate that is spilling over with cheesy eggs, for $3.50 (of course, we only discovered this dish after we placed our orders). I know this place doesn’t sound spectacular, but it’s a local favorite and worth a stop, if only to get a taste for the area, not necessarily the Mexican food. They give Tex-Mex a whole new meaning.

Before we ambled toward the airport for our afternoon flight, we had to swing by the home of the Longhorns. Surrounded by the typical university shops (i.e. Urban Outfitters, Pita Pit, Starbucks), UT-Austin is a large campus with an impressive setting. The campus feel is like any big-ten American university, but here the students bleed orange.

Austin definitely lived up to all expectations, which is a good and bad thing for a travel adventure. I wasn't pleasantly surprised, nor was I unexpectedly disgusted, so overall, I'd say Austin hit the mark. With great food and spectacular entertainment, this accessible city is a standout in the Lone Star State. And so if Texas ever decides to secede, I'll allow it…as long as we get Austin.

How cool was Austin, TX? Check back next week to find out!

High Five for Highland Games: Inverness

Since my tan from Portugal has all but faded away into oblivion, I thought it time to talk up a greyer part of the world. With some bagpipes heard blowing in the distance and the taste of whiskey on your tongue, let’s journey to Scotland again.

This time round, I headed further north to Inverness with reliable travel buddies Miriam and Lauren. What you need to know about Lauren, a fellow Oxford postgrad, is that she loves Scottish men. I’m not sure if it’s the accents, the kilts, or the fact they usually come built big and burly… but she loves them. So what better than the Highland Games to watch some brawny men throw cabers and lift weights?

We rolled out of Oxford at midnight on a Friday (nope, not a misprint).Our flights through EasyJet cost about £75 roundtrip, so of course we were paying in other ways… early flights out of remote airports. A taxi to Oxford city centre then a short walk landed us at the bus station, where we were informed tickets needed to be pre-purchased for the coach to Luton Airport. Super.

So we hopped on the Oxford Tube, which runs 24-7 to London, then once at Victoria station we wandered around at 3 a.m. trying to find the Luton bus. In the end, we got to the airport in time for a brief breakfast, a long line at security, and not quite enough coffee to keep us going.

By 8:30 a.m. we arrived in Inverness. A bus to the city centre will cost you under 5 quid and once you’re there, transportation costs are pretty much non-existent since this city verges on miniscule. Trusty hostelworld.com led us to the Inverness Tourist Hostel, which wasn’t the best, but certainly wasn’t the worst (though I should mention the incredibly cute and helpful Kiwi behind the front desk). A mixed room of four with shared bathroom runs for about £12.00.

Here’s a tip about Scottish weather: never expect it to be nice; seriously, just plan for the absolute worst and then multiple it by ten. It was the middle of July and the only footwear I brilliantly decided to pack were of the flip-flop variety. Live and learn (but you would have thought I’d done that by now?!). I would guesstimate temperatures were in the low 50’s with a slight drizzle most Scots would consider a grand fine day.

A long nap and several cups of coffee later, we were ready to rock the ‘ness and see the sights. Ten minutes later we were stumped for what to do next. If you had a car at your disposal, chances are there’d be more to see (Loch Ness, for instance). Surely, there must be more to see? As Europe’s fastest growing city, I’m sure there’s more than meets the tourist’s eye. Nevertheless, we had a sufficient wander and then thought it time for food and drinks. I’ve got one word for you when it comes to Inverness nightlife: Hootananny.

Live music, reasonably priced booze, a Thai restaurant and several levels of randomocity will keep you entertained on a Friday or Saturday night. And no trip to a pub is complete without the resident drunks hitting on Americans tourists. There were a few older gents this time, each with a glass of whiskey or a pint of Guinness sloshing around as they made jokes, asked us to dance, and made generally unpleasant conversation. But it’s all part of the "culture" yeah? We even witnessed a genuine dance off, but as in all cases of dance offs, no one was victorious (see video below).

Come Saturday, it was the main event for a about £10 with a student ID. Think of a fun fair, add some kilts and bagpipes, and you’ve got yourself the Highland Games. There’s a beer tent, alongside which are booths with each individual clan. Of course, mine was the best, the Cameron clan… Aonaibh Ri Chéile! (Let Us Unite!). We settled in at the grand stands and watched some caber tossing, cowbell flipping, shot putting, and hammer throwing. There was a men’s team and a women’s team, each exemplifying impressive skills and strength.

A walk along the River Ness will take you by the perched Inverness Castle. There are plenty of traditional Scottish souvenir shops scattered throughout the city. Find yourself a tartan, or shortbread, or just a regular shot glass adorning "Scotland" ... whatever you fancy, you'll be sure to find it in this tourist-friendly city.

We capped the night off at our new local favorite, Hootananny, but didn’t make it a wild night since we had to catch a morning taxi to the airport. Another early flight to another remote airport, but at least this time we managed to get on the right bus back to Oxford.

It almost seemed surreal to have been in the north of Scotland for less than 48 hours, watching the legendary Highland Games. A last-minute weekend getaway turned out to be something really memorable for me, as we saw a piece of history in action.

Paling Around in Portugal: North to South to North

I never imagined that I'd ever visit Portugal, a place seemingly tinged with exotic culture and an air of unknown. I thought if I ever ventured to that part of the world, it’d be a trip to Spain, a more typical tourist destination. But then I met one of my flatmates and Portugal became a reality.

I lived with Catia all year at Cheney Student Village, along with a fantastic group of others from around the world. So once my postgraduate coursework was complete, I figured a trip was necessary to celebrate the finale of my time abroad. She offered a free bed and entertainment in Braga and so, my journey began.

My friend Miriam decided to splurge and join me on the vacation, which was much needed after the stress of moving, job hunting, and finishing up major projects. We found flights from Birmingham to Porto on the dreaded RyanAir for a measly £37 and pre-booked train tickets from Oxford. Only an hour away, Birmingham is a great alternative to London as a departure city. However, be sure to get to the station early in order to avoid getting in a physical brawl with a ticket machine, as Miriam so gracefully did—but we’ll skip over the part where some elderly ladies were befuddled by our abusive tactics. PS: If you order tickets early, you’ll need a confirmation number and/or a credit card number to access your information.

It was a quick jaunt to southern Europe and we arrived in Portugal’s second largest city within two hours. From the airport, Catia and her sister Dina picked us up and we hit the highway American style to get to Braga. This northern city has plenty to see and is a good place to get an initial taste of Portugal. Start out in the center of the city near Idol’s Fountain, where on a breezy day you’ll feel the spray of the water as you sit with a coffee in a nearby café. Drink your espresso Portuguese style by stirring it with a cinnamon stick.

Wander through the wide boulevards and take in the gothic

architecture, especially at the Braga Cathedral. Find the church pictured to the right and then try to find the roosters… the number of minutes if takes you to find them is the number of years you will wait until you’re married. Santa BarbaraPortugal. garden is near and ideal for a photo-op, plus on your way there you’ll pass the narrowest house in northern

Invest in a rental car or hitchhike* your way up the tree laden hills toward the Sanctuary of Bom Jesus do Monte. The magnificent vista before you includes Braga and the beaches of Esposende and Viana do Castelo. The Sacred Way, the impressive baroque granite staircase, is a workout, but considering pilgrims climbed it on their knees, I won’t grumble. The area is full of gardens and grottoes, sculptures and fountains. One could easily spend a day here and be fulfilled. In the area, you’ll also discover the Sameiro Sanctuary, a 19^th century domed church with more spectacular views.

*not really.

It’d almost be a sin to go all the way to sunny Portugal from dreary England without soaking up the rays on a glistening beach, and thus we headed 45 minutes west toward the Atlantic. At the sight of water, Miriam sprinted toward it with glee and we spread out our towels several meters from the shore. I’m usually not one to lounge while on a trip, especially on sand, but this was a welcomed respite (until the sunburn set in, then it was entirely regrettable). We hit the water and swam to our heart’s content; it had been years since I splashed around in the ocean. The area was clean and calm, with the Mediterranean sun blazing on our backs.

Our time in Portugal was not spent entirely up north, we also ventured south by train. An early morning departure to Lisbon landed Miriam and I there in three hours flat. We maneuvered the metro and got from Oriente Station to old town in several stops and one switch. If traveling from the north, ride the train all the way to Santa Apolonia Station to avoid the metro (whoops!).

We had the city center all to ourselves once we arrived—the streets of Lisbon are eerily quiet on Sunday mornings. Following the directions scribbled on my piece of paper led us to a narrow door, leading to one of my favorite hostels yet. We were greeted like royalty at Goodnight Backpacker's, Rua dos Correeiros 113. They gave us coffee and breakfast, stored our luggage, and allowed us to relax in their chic lounge … all before the official check-in time. For €20 a night each, this pick proved to be stellar (94% satisfaction on hostelworld.com) especially considering we were located in Baixa, the city center.

With only a day to explore this historic city, we set out to find some sights. Following the tradition of figuring things out upon arrival, we decided to simply use our internal compasses, which led us to the Castle of São Jorge. Towering above the city, this spot has been privy to human occupation since the 6^th century BC. Once you huff and puff your way up the narrow streets, pay the €3 fee to get into the castle so you can enjoy the absolutely breathtaking views. Take note of the indigenous cork trees once you make it to the top. Our eyes seemed to be playing tricks on us as we looked out and saw what was reminiscent of the Golden Gate Bridge. Later on, our research concluded that the 25 de Abril Bridge was built by the same construction company.

Flip flop wearers beware as you descend, for the detailed cobblestone streets are not kind to the soles of your feet. If you head toward the side with the water, you’ll inevitably pass the Lisbon Cathedral within Alfama, the oldest city district. Once we were back on level ground, we found a bustling African market on Augusta Street… Lisbon seemed to wake up while we were at the castle. We took in a late Italian lunch in an outdoor bistro and then set out toward the northern part of the city.

The Estrela Basilica was certainly impressive, but perhaps not worth the long walk... try taking one of the famous Lisbon trams if you’re feeling adventurous or know a little Portuguese. We sat in a busy park mere steps away from the historical landmark and wrote postcards to home, although here’s a pertinent warning: don’t mail anything from a Portuguese mailbox! It took months for these cards to emerge in the US (I made it back before they did). Spare the authenticity and mail them when you

get home.

On our way back to the city center, we passed the Assembly of the Republic building, large in size and in splendor. But splendor soon turned to seedy as dusk happened to sneak up on us and we got lost. With a newfound spring in our step, we tried to retrace our route to no avail. At that point we discovered the other side of Lisbon, a poorer, unsavory district unmentioned by tour books. We finally figured a way toward the water and followed it back toward Augusta Street; the unplanned quest was a good reminder to carry a proper map.

Walking throughout Baixa that evening, we were bombarded by restaurant owners trying to entice us in for dinner. This was unexpected and unappreciated, so we went to the first place that didn’t try to lure us in. A decent and traditional Portuguese meal was had, along with some vinho verde, a refreshing young wine that is only available in Portugal.

The next morning we hurried out of our bunk beds to catch a 5:30 train and we journeyed back up to Braga to spend our last day with Catia and her family. The next morning we had another early wake up call to get on a bus toward Spain. Although this acted as my first official trip to Spain, it was not an extended one as we were just flying out of Vigo. However, the ride to this small, rural airport was enjoyable with rolling hills of green. Keep in mind the time difference between Portugal and Spain while traveling, we almost had another Dublin experience on our hands if we had been late.

Portugal was altogether unexpected and enjoyable. It exposed me to another unique region of the world and I was thankful to have a resident tour guide along for the ride (many thanks, Catia!). So check one hometown off the list of flatmate tours. What’s next? Maybe a spree to Seychelles to visit Jessica? Or perhaps a jaunt to Jordan, an itinerary in India, or a caravan to Canada? Oh, how I love going to school abroad!