Berlin is So Big, I was Overwhelmed!

With a hasty and comfortable train returning to Berlin, I enjoyed the remainder of my Wednesday afternoon with leisure. My hostel was located in the southernmost area of the city (the catch for booking the cheapest hostel room), but luckily it was placed adjacent to Osdorfer Straße Station, giving me efficient metro access to and from the city within 30 minutes. I enjoyed myself in Berlin, but it was quite the adjustment coming from Brussels. My first impression was of course noting the expansive suburbs in which I found my temporary stay. The impression was calm, organized, and uncanny-American. I realized quickly (having known the feeling my whole life) that I was back in a very cartesian realm, one in which a foot-peddlar like me would have some diffculty. Fortunately aside from the area’s lack of laundrymats, absence of grocery stores, and slow late-night transit during the weekdays, my first impression of Berlin was somewhat false. In the city center I found much of what I needed with reliable transportation and at medicore (but acceptable) distance to one-another.


Bottom line, Berlin is a big city. It felt to me very idealistically American with its car-centric city-planning, its industrial consumerism (liquidation stores, fast food, etc.), and its respect to the suburban life. In a way, it seemed like the common lifestyle that the U.S. tries to achieve, with the added bonus of reliable suburban transit and affordable (or even free) public recreation. Conversely, the construction of Berlin’s suburbs feels much more authentic: houses are detailed with better hardware and more durable finishes. They also each have a quirky, stylistic touch of German vernacular; not the copy-paste, thirty-year-lifespan shacks that have gained popularity with contractors in the U.S.


During my frequent trips to the city center, I absolutely had to visit one of my favorite pieces of architecture for the first time: David Libeskind’s Jewish Museum. One of the first buildings I thoroughly studied in university, this museum was constructed using countless techniques to give the occupants feelings of hopelessness and false-optimism as a memorial to the Holocaust. I took my time with this one, rejecting the audio-tour to experience the building and its content in the intended silence. In the same day I traveled to the Berlin wall. An earlier recommendation was to explore the pocket-neighborhoods along this memorial, so I attempted to view as many as possible. Of course as I imagined, it was quite a long distance to walk, but each new block offered a unique urban environment and used the wall in a slightly different manner. I was happy to see such a complex memorial footprint being so naturally integrated into the modern city.


Night life in Berlin was the liveliest I had ever witnessed. The most cosmopolitan scene I found during my stay was in the bar and club districts, and it lasted for the entirety of an owl’s waking day. These clubs were found in something I’ll call a Ber-limbo, a ring layer between the city center and the suburban outskirt that held the industrial, manufacturing, and otherwise unnattractive city-zoning: the perfect hub for night-life.


Although my hostel was empty aside for one new companion, I was able to quickly make friends who were traveling as well. With them I learned that night-life in Berlin is quite exclusive and can cater to quite a specific clientele; regardless, I enjoyed myself, and it was refreshing to be surrounded by so many lively, fun-having, young-adults.


If I were to return to Berlin, I would certainly prefer to bring a friend. For someone who is moderately social, I think it would be wise to travel in familiar company in such a vast urban setting. Vast is no exaggeration, as I still find myself getting lost in a simple map of the city. However in the time I alotted myself, I believe I gained a reasonable familiarity with Berlin, one from which I can employ similar city-planning techniques in my career’s far future.

nancy – a french city in lorraine

we arrived in nancy quite early, the streets directly lead us to the ‘place stanislav’. which is supposed to be the most beautiful square in europe. we found it quite impressive with all the marble and gold plating. the last duke of lorraine, stanislaw leszczynski, built the square to link the old town of nancy to the new.

since we needed to head on, we only stayed one day in nancy. but we explored the city by bike and found a lot of nice places. the cycling infrastructure was not very good, but we found our way. we liked the ‘parc de la pépinière’, it is the park next to the main square.

we didn’t get to know the daily business, but we enjoyed daily life in a bar outside the touristic center. the city seems to be bigger than it is, it strives for more of what it is. but we felt quite lost because it didn’t feel very vivid. for the population, the places of happening are too far apart. the nice thing about it is, that it’s very quiet.

like every major city in france, nancy has also a very large cathedral.

A Patchwork Quilt in Bruxelles

After the cacophony of consecutive transit layovers from a train to New York, to a plane to Oslo, to another plane to Berlin, I finally emerged out of the chaos of my final train with a red-eyed haze in Brussels. Arriving promptly in the early morning, I quickly shook off my fatigue with a sandwich and a coffee. I started at the north train station, and I spent the next few hours meandering south on foot. The foot traffic for me was comfortable, not being interfered much by other traffic flows. Many roads had been closed for pedestrian exclusivity, and the vehicular traffic that did exist was clearly delineated in appropriate lanes (car, bike, walk).

I found my way to my hostel in the afternoon to be surprised by the pleasant encounter of some new friends. Brussels was very quickly beginning to open up to me as a city where I could reside. Taking more trips around during that first day, the city felt less flashy than I had imagined. There was an atmosphere more in tune with what I was familiar in Philadelphia. The city was a patchwork quilt of neighborhoods, but still very closely tied to each other artisically, organizationally, and culturally.


Over the next few days, I took every opportunity to venture outside of the city center. Locally I was able to receive recommendations and even occasional tours from the locals whom I acquainted myself. Brussels felt very small-town-esque. It was comfortable for wayfinding, and despite having out of the city center, I kept finding myself passing places I had been. That is not to say navigation was always so intuituve. At this point I was familiarizing myself with the metro system: although it was speedy and efficient, it was terribly confusing. Lines cross at odd angles, intersections with roads, pedestrian paths through metro rails, and a bilingual split between French and Dutch that constantly tampered with the naming of locations and stations. Nonetheless, I could get to where I needed to be in a timely fashion.


When I found myself in the periphery, there was always a free public event of some sort. In the Parc du Cinquantenaire I stumbled across a Latin color festival, and in Leuven I experienced a suburban street festival combined with a flea market. There was an apparent recognition for the value of providing lovely, free events to the citizens that is still very foreign to me. These events seemed to be so numerous and available that many people chose not to even attend. Outside the events I would find people relaxing and playing in completely unrelated contexts.


I visited some lower-class neighborhoods as well to analyze how the city responds to public safety needs. The cleanliness level (of things like litter) were kept constant throughout my walks, despite the class of the area. The lower class areas still had decent tree coverage, adequate transit access, and open spaces where a citizen’s surroundings are kept visible (as opposed to tight spaces where aggressors may hide). I felt safe in most of my walks, although I was accompanied by new friends for some.

As for the historicism imbedded in the city, I was absolutely enamored by the diverse layering effect of Flemish tradional with French tradional all juxtaposed to modern high-rise. One of the first things to note about Brussels was its cosmopolitan energy, and the scattered but interwoven styles of its buildings absolutely reflected this worldy union. There were of course some sad scenes of historic decays as a more historic neighborhood was readapted for white-collar or business use, but I appreciated the streetview moments where the two could coexist.


As I told one of my new friends as I left, Brussels does not seem like a quick-vacation city, but rather a city with which I would fall in love after a long stay. The character felt welcoming and authentic, and something has captured my attention. I do not believe that my time with Brussels has ended, and I await the day when I may return.

Barcelona & Tarragona

Staying in the heart of Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter felt like stepping into a vibrant, living museum. The narrow, labyrinthine streets were alive with the hum of life at all hours, drawing both locals and travelers into their tight embrace. Every corner revealed something new, whether it was the scent of fresh food wafting from a small eatery or the flash of ornate street lamps casting golden light over historic facades. The energy was palpable, a flow of people weaving through centuries-old passageways that seemed to echo the stories of the past. The Gothic Quarter is more than just a district; it’s a gateway into the soul of Barcelona.

Barcelona holds countless hidden gems, from the quiet corners of Ciutat Vella to storied landmarks like the Temple d’August and the city archives. Nestled in this part of the city, the Temple d’August, a remnant of ancient Roman times, stands as a stoic witness to Barcelona’s diverse historical layers. Nearby, the Barcelona city archives store centuries of documentation, preserving the city’s narrative, piece by piece. Walking through these spaces, one can feel the weight of history juxtaposed against the dynamic, modern pace of the city. These relics are cherished by locals and act as subtle reminders of Barcelona’s commitment to preserving its heritage, even as the city races forward.

Exploring local art and language, you quickly realize the fervor with which Barcelonans celebrate Catalan culture. Catalan isn’t just spoken in conversations at markets or cafes; it’s breathed into public spaces, showcased in murals, and honored through local events. Artists, whether through street art or formal galleries, weave the essence of Catalonia into their work, reflecting pride in a unique identity distinct from the rest of Spain. This deep connection to Catalan culture is pervasive, and you feel it in the rhythm of everyday life, from the conversations echoing in the narrow alleys to the art that covers the walls. There’s a sense of respect here, a determination to uphold this identity against the tides of change.

The majesty of La Sagrada Família rises above the city like a surreal sentinel, its intricate spires and organic shapes a testament to Gaudí’s unmatched vision. This unfinished masterpiece captures a peculiar beauty, merging nature with spiritual reverence in stone and color. Standing in its shadow, it’s easy to understand why this structure has captured the world’s imagination. Even as it remains under construction, La Sagrada Família continues to inspire awe, a perpetual work in progress that speaks to the patience and pride of the Catalan people.

Barcelona offers peaceful retreats, too, like Parc de la Ciutadella. This lush oasis, tucked away in the city, is a sanctuary where locals come to relax, and musicians often fill the air with melodies, creating a soundtrack that perfectly matches the scenery. Children play by the fountains, couples picnic under sprawling trees, and friends gather to escape the urban rush. The park’s beauty lies in its simplicity, a patch of calm amid the city’s energy, where the pace slows down and the worries of the day seem to drift away.

One of our most memorable stops was the Hospital de Sant Pau, a remarkable example of Catalan Modernism designed by the visionary architect Lluís Domènech i Montaner. We arrived after a leisurely morning wandering through the La Gràcia neighborhood, which retains a charm distinct from Barcelona’s more bustling areas. As we approached the hospital, its elaborate design became visible—ornate mosaics, brightly colored ceramic tiles, and sculpted facades that seemed more like art than architecture. Originally founded in 1342, the hospital is one of the oldest in the world, later renovated between 1902 and 1930 to embrace an Art Nouveau aesthetic that feels both grand and intimate. Today, the complex serves as a cultural and research center, its spaces alive with artistic legacy. A pavilion displayed haunting images of the hospital’s final days as a working medical facility, nurses clad in Nike sneakers, early Nokia phones in hand—a fascinating juxtaposition of history and modernity within this hallowed Art Nouveau space. The hospital’s blend of healing, beauty, and architectural mastery is a profound reminder of the value placed on aesthetic spaces within functional buildings, a concept the Catalans champion in ways few other cultures do.

Barcelona’s food culture is as much a celebration of tradition as it is of flavor. Casa Alfonso, a restaurant that has been serving locals since 1934, encapsulates this perfectly. The air inside is thick with the aroma of garlic, jamón, and smoked meats. We quickly found a small nook by the door, nestled under shelves stacked with vintage bottles of olive oil. Deep red walls and the clinking of glasses set a warm, intimate ambiance. Plates of chorizo, anchovies, and glistening cured meats arrived in quick succession, each bite bursting with rich, savory flavors. This is the kind of place where you squeeze your way to the bar, order a glass of vermouth, and settle in to savor every bite. For dessert, the crema catalana arrived—a perfectly caramelized crust that cracked to reveal a smooth, citrusy custard, the ideal ending to a meal steeped in tradition and hospitality.

In the quieter La Gràcia neighborhood, we encountered another facet of Barcelona’s character. Here, the walls are sometimes emblazoned with the phrase “TOURIST GO HOME,” yet the bakeries still offer a warm welcome. The scent of freshly baked bread pulled us in from the street, and we found baguettes with a crisp, golden crust, while ensaimadas—soft, indulgent pastries—tempted from the shelves. Each bite reminded us of the care and tradition infused into Catalan baking. La Gràcia felt like a hidden gem, a place where the city’s soul can still be found away from the busier tourist zones.

Our journey to Tarragona began with a packed train ride down the coast from Barcelona. The train was filled with a mix of tourists and locals, all heading toward the seaside. As we rode along, we enjoyed the views of the Mediterranean Sea on one side and the hills on the other, despite the 75 minutes standing on the carriage. 

Arriving in Tarragona, we immediately headed in to the old town to see the city’s rich history and Roman heritage, one of the main reasons for our trip. The Roman ruins here are some of the best-preserved in Spain, and one ticket gets you into all the ruins (albeit not the cathedral as we found out). Our first stop was the impressive Roman amphitheater, which sits right on the edge of the sea, with the stunning blue waters of the Mediterranean providing a dramatic backdrop. The amphitheater is incredibly well-preserved and you are permitted to visit all of it. From there, we wandered over to the Roman Circus, another incredible site where chariot races were once held. The scale of the Circus is huge, and it’s fascinating to see how much of the structure has survived through the centuries. The site also offers fantastic views of the city and coastline, making it a perfect spot to pause and take in the scenery. This particular day was about 33 degrees, so we didn’t pause for too long and headed to find some much needed shade (a constant theme of our travels I’m sure you may note). While seeking this out we had a chance to chat with some friendly locals. They spoke enthusiastically about Tarragona’s history and its growing popularity as a tourist destination. They were proud of their city’s heritage and were happy to see more people coming to appreciate its unique blend of ancient history and coastal beauty but struggled with the new businesses that had taken to serving tourist tat along their high streets.  Tarragona had no music playing anywhere as such, but this was a welcome break for us. The streets were hushed and quiet, befitting of a basilica town. I found myself maintaining a lower volume, and keeping to the shaded side of the street. This quiet contrasted with the bustle of Barcelona, and I didn’t mind it, it reminded me of home. The idea of accumulating music on this trip had now been muddled in with noticing sounds on a more macro scale. The absence of sound is just as loud as a heavy metal band. 

 

We decided to relax in one of the bustling squares, where we enjoyed a few cold beers (Mahou I love you). The square was lively with locals and tourists alike, all enjoying the warm weather and laid-back atmosphere. The cool drinks and lively chatter around us provided the perfect break before our next destination. Later in the afternoon, we hopped back on the train and headed to the seaside town of Sitges. By the time we arrived, the day had grown even hotter, and we couldn’t resist heading straight to the beach. We ended up wandering to the northern side of the beach, finding an alcove where I believe they were dredging the sand out of the bay. This created a huge smell of fish in the air. We spent the rest of the day swimming and soaking up the sun. The lively, relaxed atmosphere of Sitges was the perfect contrast to the historic charm of Tarragona, and there was lots of european pop music coming out of rival speakers from bars straddling the beach. This battle for superiority reflected the growing issue this area has with tourists (of which we were a part of). We ended the day heading back to Barcelona, ready for our next trip onwards.  

 

Nordic Echoes in World Heritage Cities

Cultural project manager Martha Skyrianou will take you on a journey through several Nordic World Heritage sites to gain a better understanding of Scandinavian history and legacy. On this trip, she will be documenting her experiences through a combination of creative blog diary and photo project.