Baedeker Fall 2014

BAEDEKER FALL 2014

editors’ note

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AEDEKER follows in the footsteps of a brand of travel guides first printed in 1832. This magazine isn’t nearly as old—just over ten years—but we aim to encourage travel in the same way. This issue comes at an exciting time for us. With hundreds of new members and a new editorial team, we’ve been able to not only increase our circulation but also update our design to best showcase students’ work.

This issue’s photography in particular highlights the incredible places our contributors have visited, giving readers a glimpse into unique locations all around the world. We’ve also put a new focus on practical information, with specific advice for great travel experiences. We hope what you read here will inspire you to get out there and explore. Safe travels! nyubaedeker@gmail.com

editors-in-chief STEPHANIE ECKARDT + SCOTT MULLEN executive editor ALEX BRAVERMAN

treasurer SHANNON LIANG

secretary KARI SONDE

webmaster WARD PETTIBONE

media coordinator JULIE CORBETT

nyubaedeker.tumblr.com

africa editors YEHO HWANG AMY PELCH

europe editors JENNA ELLIS SHANNA ZHOU

middle east editors KENDALL FRENCH-KAZEN JEANNIE NAM

oceania editors CASHMAN AIU JEAN-LUC MARSH

asia editors PICHAYA RUKTAPONGPISAL LIZZY TEPLUKHIN

latin america editors ANNA FERKINGSTAD ALYSSA MATESIC

north america editors AUBREY MARTINSON WILLA TELLEKSON-FLASH

layout team NINA JANG ZOE KENNEDY

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TABLE OF CONTENTS AFRICA Snapshot: Saint-Louis .................. 3-4

OCEANIA The Tropics of Tonga ..................... 15

LATIN AMERICA Navigating the Guía-T .................. 23

Dakarois Days ................................. 5

New Zealand ................................ 16

Buenos Aires Street Art ................. 24

by Natalie McCauley

by Natalie McCauley

by Sky Zhang

by James Hayes

by Jamie Kiliany

by Alex Bates

Dominican Republic ..................... 25

NORTH AMERICA Quebec ........................................... 6

EUROPE Le Marché De Nice ....................... 17

Between Mountains & Modernity ... 7

The Coffee Quest ......................... 18

MIDDLE EAST The Old City ................................. 26

Seattle: Slowly, Quietly ................... 8

Snapshot: County Clare ........... 19-20

Tehran ..................................... 27-28

by Merilyn Chang

by Sami Emory

by Conor Kelley

ASIA Ha Long Bay .............................. 9-10

by Brian Young

When in India ................................ 11

by Anjali Jain

Hiking the Himalayas ............... 11-12

by Paramjot Kaur

Snapshot: Hanoi ...................... 13-14

by Lizzy Teplukhin

by Willa Tellekson-Flash

by Lily Haight

by Jenna Ellis

Looking Through the Haze ........... 21

by Alexandra Cass

Swiss Surprises .............................. 22

by Emily Albert

cover: a westward view of the Mediterranean coast from the top of a hill in Le Jardin d’Èze, a botanical garden in Èze, France photo by JENNA ELLIS

by Madison McKormick, Camila Arevalo

by Kendall French-Kazen

by Arnold Busztin

DEPARTURE Entradas e Saídas .......................... 29

by Vanessa Castro

opposite: Plitvice National Park, Croatia photo by STEPHANIE ECKARDT illustrations by

SAINT-LOUIS, SENEGAL A workhorse takes a break from hauling fish on the beach in SaintLouis. Horse-drawn carts move a wide variety of goods through parts of the city where roads are not well-paved.

photo by NATALIE McCAULEY

DAKAROIS DAYS

by NATALIE McCAULEY

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akar juts out on a peninsula, forming the westernmost tip of the African continent and bordering the Atlantic Ocean. Historically speaking, as life shifted from the inland peanut farms to the coastal commerce of fishing and global trade, Dakar became a magnet for industry and opportunity. The city’s population expanded rapidly, spurring construction to fill in the lines of the city. However, some of its traditions are still decidedly rural: for example, goats, a symbol of good luck, live in courtyards around the city. I came to look forward to their bleats, ringing out in the neighborhood on Dakarois nights.

Lingering French colonial influences in the city can be heard, seen, and even smelled as the scent of freshly baked baguettes perfumes the early morning. Cool nights can be spent in the garden café of L’Institut Français, the French cultural center, where expats and local francophones gather to hear concerts, watch dance performances, and taste the eclectic mix of authentic Senegalese dishes and international cuisine.

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A simple exchange in Wolof is like a key that opens the door to Senegalese hospitality. This language is the most prevalent of the many spoken in the city, and heavily integrates Arabic. The first of my survival Wolof instruction was the Arabic greeting and response wishing peace on your acquaintance, Salaam alaikum, followed by M’alaikum salaam. After the Arabic equivalent of hello, ask how the other person is: Nanga def? They will likely respond with doing well: Mangi fi rekk. Then give thanks to Allah for your mutual well-being by saying Alhamdulillah, a gesture to the Islamic influences of this majority Muslim nation.

Communities in Dakar are closely tied by political interests.

The capital city speaks out by painting candidates’ names on walls, encouraging the public to vote for change or to be heard.

Public art also reflects strong opinions among many young people that their nation needs to move more quickly towards equality and acceptance, while maintaining its national identity.

Quebec

by MERILYN CHANG

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slight chill hovers in the air over Montreal, even in early August. The stone streets are still damp in the mornings and have a kind of luster that doesn’t exist on city sidewalks. When it rains at night, the stones accentuate every trace of light from the streetlamps. From afar it looks as if the streets are lit up in some brilliantly gauzy amber and bronze glow. The streets are on fire.

It’s the stone streets that give Old Montreal its allure. Anything that reminds us of the past—anything that beckons bouts of nostalgia—is likely to attract attention. It’s no wonder that millions of tourists flock here every year to walk along the cobblestones and revel in the town’s charm. It’s sectioned off from the rest of the city, which has slowly industrialized and modernized within the past couple of decades. Old Montreal is a living museum of an era that has long since passed.

Only the scattered tourist-catering gift shops that line the narrow streets detract from the city’s antiquity. This is, howev-

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er, an inevitable side effect of a city that builds its industry off of tourism. Even so, hidden among the tacky keychains and neon refrigerator magnets are some worthwhile gifts. Handmade glasses in delicately decorated boutiques and wood carved figurines are among the several specialties of Montreal that you can bring home.

Crêpes, another speciality, unfortunately don’t last—so fill up on the thin, sweet pancakes while you can. Try them spread with nutella and topped with strawberries or simply drizzled in salted caramel. One benefit of visiting an old French town its inevitable tie to cultural cuisine.

Brave visitors can try escargot— snails doused in warm, garlicky butter at French brasseries. For a more traditional French-Canadian dish, poutine offers a heaping pile of fried potatoes topped with cheese curds and a gravy-like sauce.

Whatever you choose to do, walking through the filmy and antiquated old town will be like taking a momentary step back into the past.

Old Montreal is a living museum of an era that has long since passed.

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the Basilica of Sainte-Anne-deBeaupré, east of Quebec City photo by LIAM RONDEAU

BETWEEN MOUNTAINS AND MODERNITY

by SAMI EMORY

photo by LILY GOLDMAN

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ifteen miles outside of San Francisco, under the rusted red doorway of the Golden Gate and through the rainbow arch of the Waldo Tunnel, lies a little town of modest renown. It is a town that is a world unto itself: a Northern Californian micro-universe with an eccentric interpretation of American suburbia. It is a bubble, encased by fog and close-knit community: a place where generations of families live within walking distance, and where it’s common knowledge that the market owner’s son, who works at the wine counter, is getting married this summer to the young woman, who works at the right-most register, in the old white mansion in the far back corner of Blithedale canyon.

In this town, nature nurtures. It rears and shapes every townsman and townswoman. Though the seasons change subtly, almost imperceptibly, every inhabitant knows their land’s distinctive smell for winter, spring, summer, and fall. The town feels the ebb and flow of the tides in the marsh, sees the egret on still, quiet afternoons, and tastes the salty air lifting off the bay. This is a place where one’s “neighbors” often are songbirds and foxes and coyotes—on some roads at night, there are more deer than there are cars.

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And above it all, the mountain, Mount Tamalpais, the Sleeping Lady, resides and presides, impartial and peaceful.

And yet, life in this little town is in a constant flux between the rush of modernity and the steady pulse of the the mountain, the fog. It has not proven resistant to the ever growing pull of materialism and digital dependence, especially with a major city at its feet and the ever-growing Silicon Valley only a short commute away. Most often, however, this manifests in ways that do little to disrupt the town’s long-established lifestyle. Children may fall prey to the appeal of smart phones and video games, but they will leave them in an instant for an afternoon of dirty hands and chilly creek beds. Although it has been rumored that some of the town’s grandparents have Facebook accounts and often text their dazed relatives with enthusiastic emojis, the general, amused consensus is that this is exactly how technology should be used.

Not many people have heard of this little town, but those who have are sure to remember it. Some people come from far, far away just for a glimpse of its natural beauty and calm refuge. They arrive on their Blazing Saddle rented bikes and shyly pester pedestrians for directions. To

the redwood trees, they say, to the mountain! Some locals have tired of this, wishing for peaceful walks and fewer tourists clogging the lanes of their bike path.

Most, however, gently and methodically

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In this town, nature nurtures.

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provide the needed guidance, giving the travelers a push and a smile.

Some of the town’s longtime residents—maybe those who once blazed into town on a single-gear and never blazed away—migrated here in search of much needed rest, escaping big cities and high-profile jobs that left them with millions in the bank and early onset baldness. Others simply stumbled upon this refuge by mere chance and couldn’t— and still can’t—believe their luck. Still others, however—and I proudly count myself as a member of this third category—have been in Mill Valley since birth, unable to discern between what they know as their home and what people tell them is a rare sanctum, a quirky gem, and an incredible place to grow up.

seattle: slowly, quietly

The calm grey city offers quality beer, amazing seafood, and a peaceful visit.

by CONOR KELLEY

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ou’re visiting Seattle soon.

You’ve heard great things, so you’re heading out west, just like the settlers did. Most tourists visit during Seattle’s 80-degree summers, which start in mid-July and last until the end of September. You missed that. You’ll probably still have fun though, because Seattle is very trendy now—just give the locals a little time to get used to that idea.

You may have been drawn by the reputation of Seattle’s beer. What you’ve heard is true: Seattle, in my painstakingly researched opinion, has the best in the country.

Georgetown Brewing Company’s Manny’s Pale Ale and Mac & Jack’s African Amber are the two best beers I’ve ever touched to my lips, and available almost everywhere in the Seattle area. Seattle’s other breweries aren’t far behind either, with worthy offerings like Elysian Brewing Company’s Mens Room Red, Fremont’s Summer Ale, and Pyramid’s Hefeweizen. If you’re the stiff-drinking type, you might have

heard about the whiskey distilleries—Woodinville Whiskey’s bourbon is worth a try.

You may be a Seattle sports fan, visiting for a game. The Seahawks are defending their Super Bowl trophy in front of sellout crowds at CenturyLink Field, the now-successful Mariners draw fans to Safeco Field with one of the best views in the country, and the Sounders and Storm are two of the most successful franchises in the MLS and WNBA, respectively.

It may be your hankering for seafood that brought you out. At Pike Place Market, Anthony’s, or Ponti, you can find fresh crab, lobster, scallops, oysters, and the local favorite, smoked salmon. You’ll find fresh seafood on the menus of delicious sushi restaurants throughout the city, including my favorite, Musashi’s in the Wallingford neighborhood, where you can eat like a king for $20 in a dining room so small you feel awkwardly giant. Or you may have heard that you could get a great burger and shake at Dick’s Drive-In for $5 (five Seattle locations) or try a world-changing slice

at Ballard Pizza Company (happy hour: 4-6 and 10-11 p.m., Sun.Thurs., $2 slices, $5 with a beer).

Beware, however, of the Seattle Freeze, the sentiment that it’s difficult to make friends in this grey city.

Seattleites prefer to stay inside and read, as an average of 201 days out of the year are cloudy. They are an overthinking, Vitamin D-deficient, somber bunch that choose to live in a place that gets a light drizzle of rain seemingly everyday between October and May. It is young and hip now, but at its core it is still a quiet little city built into the forest.

Seattleites young and old like their trees. They like their dogs, and they like their Sunday mornings with coffee and the newspaper.

So take it easy on them. You may feel inclined to honk at them when they don’t realize the stoplight has changed. You might want to quickly walk around them when they stop on the street to admire an evergreen tree or shrub. Forgive them, fellow traveler: They’re just thinking. Probably about the summer.

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HA LONG BAY

photo by LIZZY TEPLUKHIN

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ear the northeast corner of Vietnam lies Ha Long Bay, a body of water home to floating fishing villages and over a thousand limestone monoliths. Navigating the bay requires spending several nights aboard a boat, weaving through islets and protruding rocks formed over millions of years.

I was there in January, at which point the weather was unexpectedly chilly. The feeling of isolation was unavoidable aboard the boat. Though a host of other vessels was making its way through the bay at the same time, they were nowhere in sight. Our journey felt tranquil, yet eerily silent.

The boat made barely any sound as it cut through the still water below, jade green in some areas and a murky turquoise in others. Looking down was somewhat frightening: there was no way of telling what lay beneath the water, let alone its depth.

Looking out at the horizon, all I could see were scattered rock formations emerging from the water, each with its own unique shape. They ranged from oblong spheres to mountains, weathered and overgrown with greenery or simply small, grey, and exposed. Some, I had heard, were hollow, containing lakes of their own.

The landscape was both dreamy and alien, mystical and strange. It was like nothing I had seen before—a Taoist watercolor world of dense mist curling around tall and unforgiving mountains.

by BRIAN YOUNG

MORNING ALMS Every morning at around 6 a.m., the people of Luang Prabang, a city in north central Laos, sit in the streets to give rice to the city’s monks­. This is a very old tradition, but unfortunately has become less and less common in recent years.

photo by ANNABEL SURTEES

India will leave your eyes wide open. It is a land of history and juxtaposition, from traditional villages to its bustling cities with modern architecture. Its extremes create a colorful diversity, producing the potential for an overwhelming yet unforgettable travel experience. Keep these tips in mind when visiting:

by ANJALI JAIN

WHEN IN MUMBAI, never miss a sunset at Bandstand Promenade, a rocky walkway along the coast of the Indian Ocean.

Visit the spiritual monasteries, or ashrams, of BANGALORE to remember the importance of a healthy mind, body, and soul.

Hop on a train through SOUTHERN INDIA for breathtaking views of the countryside, and enjoy a traditional breakfast of savory dosas—long, thin, crispy crêpes.

Savor Daulat Ki Chaat—a famous milky dessert—while exploring the markets of NEW DELHI, full of intricate crafts such as figurines, baskets, and ceramics.

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INDIA

when in

hiking the

HIMALAYAS A trek to the top ends up being more than a simple hike.

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oaming white goats and curving streams etched lines into the green mountain valleys like lines on the palms of our hands. I inhaled the crisp, clean mountain air, absorbing a rush of energy from the altitude and feeling as if I could float. It is said that everyone should visit the Himalayas at least once in their lifetime—there is an eternal peace that resides in these regal mountains.

My destination lay at a fantastic 15,200 feet: Sri Hemkunt Sahib, the pilgrimage place of all Sikhs, open to any and all travelers. As the car climbed upward on the way to our starting point Govindghat, a cool spray of mist hit my face. Frequent rainfall had eliminated the brown dust I had grown so accustomed to seeing throughout India. The country is known for its high temperatures—almost every traveler can relate to the “heat at first sight” moment when stepping out of the airport in New Delhi. We stopped for a break and looked over the cliff, absorbing

the the fact that we had entered another world.

There were groups of old men and women carrying boxes of powdered glucose for energy. There were parents carrying small children. We were surrounded by hundreds of other travelers, all testing the path ahead with long bamboo poles, all struggling towards the same goal: to make it to the top.

Donkey travel services are famous on the Himalayan trails. If travelers cannot go any farther on foot, they can pay to ride a donkey all the way to the top. We braved the trip on foot, stopping at small shops to buy water and lunches of pickled lemons and potato pancakes, until the last six kilometers steepened dramatically, and my legs felt as if they were on fire. Travelers returning from the temple cheered us on, and at their recommendation, we chose to embrace the donkeys.

Riding a donkey in the Himalayas is like being in the passenger seat of a car with a terrible driver—you can try as hard as you want to mentally control the vehicle, but it’s never going to work. Every time the long-legged animal teetered close to the edge, I fruitlessly tried mind control to prevent it from slipping off the trail. Ignoring the “don’t look down,” advice, I

glanced beyond the edge out of the corner of my eye, seeing only the trees far, far below. But relief was close.

For the last bit of the trail, we dismounted and trekked on foot once more.

Greeted by orange flags and ice-capped peaks wrapped in white fog and, us shawl-draped travelers had all made it to the top—even the group of elderly people I had seen thousands of feet below.

Every step had counted, yet getting to the temple entrance made every step worth it. The fatigue and discomfort evaporated as we reveled in the success of our hard work. 15,200 feet above sea level, in a country on the other side of the world, I felt euphoric.

Climbing in the Himalayas is not about reaching the top of a mountain peak. It’s about embracing the elements that make up the journey: the blessing of the man with the waist-length hair, the sand-colored monkeys running alongside the trail, the fellow travelers that became welcome friends, and the grueling satisfaction of finally reaching a destination.

by PARAMJOT KAUR 12

HANOI, VIETNAM A woman walks along train tracks running down an alleyway in Hanoi. It is common for homes and businesses to open directly onto railways in this city still recovering from the Vietnam War.

photo by LIZZY TEPLUKHIN

the tropics of TONGA

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f you are in need of a sunny, relaxing escape, but want to go somewhere off the beaten path, Tonga is the place for you.

The Kingdom of Tonga is a group of 176 islands located a third of the way between New Zealand and Hawaii, and the only remaining Polynesian constitutional

monarchy. The majority of the roughly 100,000 inhabitants reside on the main island, Tongatapu. Shimmering white beaches, coconut trees, and a welcoming spirit make Tonga a truly idyllic place. Here are four things you can count on if you ever visit the Friendly Islands.

by SKY ZHANG

ISLAND CUISINE

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hen my family and I went to Tonga, we made friends with the receptionist at the hotel where we stayed, and she once offered to go into the kitchen and cook for us. We felt very privileged as a ceramic plate of fresh ota ika (a salad of raw fish mixed with finely chopped vegetables, coconut milk, and lemon juice), roast meat, and leaf-wrapped lu sipi (lamb cooked with coconut) arrived at our table.

CELEBRATIONS

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f you’re expecting disco houses and mojito bars scattered among the traditional, modest buildings, prepare to be disappointed. But this lack of nightlife venues does not mean that the Tongans don’t party—they just do it in their own way. During any given week, you can expect to come across at least one song-and-dance celebration, pageant, or other public event.

THE GREAT OUTDOORS

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onga offers plenty of opportunities for outdoor activity, so put on your comfy shoes, rent a bike, and get exploring. Cycle past beautiful wooden churches, Captain Cook’s landing place, and Ha’amonga ‘a Maui, the Tongan version of the Stonehenge. Discover an untouched beach and take a photo so you’ll know it wasn’t just a dream after you leave. Bike down a dirt path between plots of farmed palm trees, and you may come across a group of farmers sitting on the side of the road chopping coconuts, which they might even offer free of charge.

BARGAINS

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y the time your last day in Tonga arrives, you will probably want some souvenirs to remember your experience. At Talamahu, the biggest market in Tonga, you can find not only local food but also conchs of all sizes, hand-painted fans, shell necklaces, wooden carvings, and other mementos. I recommend buying a CD of Tongan music to remind you of the island’s vibrancy. Be sure to explore all the stalls before buying something, as the prices vary, and get ready to haggle!

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The islands of New Zealand are relatively young, geologically speaking, so many areas in the country are volcanically active. The volcano seen here, Mount Ngauruhoe, is located within Tongariro National Park on the North Island, and is revered by the native Maori people.

photos by JAMES HAYES

NEW ZEALAND

LE MARCHÉ DE NICE

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he city of Nice draws you out into its streets, which are full of life. On the ten-minute walk from my apartment to the beach, I passed sidewalk cafés where men and women paused to sip espresso and smoke cigarettes, street vendors complimenting passersby in hopes of selling fresh flowers, and merchants tucked behind the sidewalk, their stores stacked with antiques.

But the most exciting of my discoveries was the street market that parallels the Promenade des Anglais, a long stretch of rocky beach and palm trees. Open every day but Monday from 6 a.m. to 1 p.m., the market sells fruits, vegetables, and local delicacies under colorful tents that line the Cours Saleya in the old city.

I stumbled upon the marketplace during one of my morning walks.

The vibrant colors of fresh fruits and vegetables, the smells of spices piled in rows of baskets, and the

sound of the merchants attempting to catch the attention of locals doing their grocery shopping overwhelmed my senses. I meandered down row after row of vendors, stopping to test dried apricots and marvel at the deep red insides of a blood orange. It is a mistake to visit this marketplace on an empty stomach, as everything will seemingly become a necessity. I stopped to watch an elderly woman with jetblack hair cook socca, a crêpe made of chickpea flour famous in Nice, on an open black skillet. The smell of fresh olive oil made my mouth water, and after handing over a couple euros, I devoured a steaming hot, crisp piece of the pancake covered in salt and pepper.

Visitors with cameras roam the marketplace, capturing the vibrant colors and exotic foods on film, but the market is not just merely a tourist attraction. Locals stroll through, dispensing coins in return for bags of fresh peppers or cartons of toma-

toes and catching up with the other regulars. The vendors are friendly, and especially hospitable to those willing to try out their French. I was offered countless varieties of olives, raspberries so red they were almost purple, and chunks of fresh mango cut open just for me.

The marketplace encompasses the spirit of Nice. It is full of energy and life—color, aroma, and noise—yet maintains an antique and old-fashioned quality. People converse and wander; they sit and observe. No one talks on cell phones—instead, they settle at the cafés that line the marketplace and spend time with friends and family. I went back to the market every day after discovering it. Sometimes I saw the same giant blueberries and sherbet-colored mangoes, but there was always something new to be seen, smelled, or tasted. The market, like the city, drew me out of my apartment and into the streets, to discover, wander, and explore.

by WILLA TELLEKSON-FLASH a typical, narrow street in the Old City lined with shops and little restaurants

THE COFFEE QUEST

by LILY HAIGHT

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aris wouldn’t be Paris if its streets weren’t lined with people enjoying espressos and cigarettes at their local cafés every afternoon. But despite the ubiquity of café culture, its coffee—to be blunt—is not very good.

Somehow, a culture so renowned for its enjoyment of good food and wine seems to have neglected the world of quality coffee.

One month into my yearlong stay in the city, I found myself craving a good latte. After my first couple experiences with café au lait—don’t even think about finding drip coffee—my high hopes for phenomenal Parisian coffee were let down by the acidic espresso and watery milk foam. Still new to the city, I could think of only one place to get something close to what I needed: Starbucks.

I reincorporated venti lattes into my caffeine routine, until one day a friend caught me sipping one and reacted almost violently. What was I doing drinking Starbucks in a coffee capital of the world? It sounds dramatic, but I felt ashamed—and determined to put my newfound familiarity with the city to use. Aided by a list of cafés from an expat’s blog, I hopped on the métro with hope and a sense of purpose, and embarked on my coffee quest.

It had just begun to pour when I finally found Café Lomi on the edge of the 18th arrondissement. The glass façade was essentially a portal; upon entering, I was transported back to my hometown, Seattle. All around me sat bobo Parisians (slang for bohemian-bourgeois—essentially French hipsters), sipping caffeinated drinks while listening to music, using free wifi, or chatting quietly with their friends amidst the sound of grinding coffee beans and whistling milk steamers. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was even a lavender soy latte on the chalkboard menu.

Café Lomi opened my eyes to a whole host of Seattle-esque cafes around the city—La Caféothèque, Café Coutume, Telescope, and Holybelly—all centered on providing the type of coffee experience we think of as standard in the states.

My next stop was Sugarplum Cake Shop on rue du Cardinal Lemoine in the Latin Quarter, Hemingway’s neighborhood. But this was miles away in style from the “sad,

evilly run café where the drunkards of the quarter crowded together” he speaks of in A Moveable Feast, with golden brown pecan pies and sugary pink cupcakes alongside espressos made from Café Lomi beans. Enjoying my very own moveable feast of cake and a latte, I paused to consider the idea of myself as the millennial version of Hemingway. But I was not in the “cesspool” of the Latin Quarter as he had been—or even in 21st century Paris. Instead, I was still in Seattle. The coffee might have been superb, but the café itself was entirely un-Parisian. With wifi and huge portions of desserts to consume, there was hardly room for the animated conversation so vital to café culture. As evidenced by its unapologetically English name, this café had been Americanized in the name of becoming cool. I started to question my real motivation for this coffee quest. While I didn’t want to replace the essence of the Parisian café, I desperately wanted quality coffee. But was my desire for “good” coffee actually a desire for something that would remind me of home?

One afternoon, I found myself in Ten Belles café near Canal St. Martin with two of my coffee-loving friends. We sat lined up on a bench, looking out the window onto the rainy street as the baristas behind us cranked out coffee after coffee. The door opened and closed with customers, filling the tiny café with the humidity of people who had come in from the rain. “When I’m in this café, I feel like I’m back home in Seattle. So what’s the point of me coming to Paris at all?”

I asked.

One of my friends admitted that, as a foreigner in Paris, these cafés that remind her of home are what have helped her adapt to living in a new place. We talked and talked until almost three hours had passed. The barista had taken our cups away—a clear signal in America that it’s time to go—but we continued to sit and chat. Unintentionally, we had participated in the French tradition of sitting and drinking coffee and talking for hours. All around us, Parisians were doing the same thing, some for even longer than us. Yes, Ten Belles was a comforting reminder of home, but to the Parisians talking around us it was just another place to have coffee and talk with friends.

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COUNTY CLARE, IRELAND A road runs along the rugged Atlantic coast of Western Ireland towards the distant Cliffs of Moher. County Clare is home to some of the island’s most beautiful landscapes, including the Cliffs and the rocky area known as the Burren.

photo by JENNA ELLIS

While Prague hosts some of the best pub experiences in Europe, they’re not for the faint of lungs.

by ALEXANDRA CASS

I

LOOKING THROUGH THE HAZE 21

remember my first cigarette in Prague. Hell, I remember my first 50 cigarettes. It was a warm night earlier this year and I’d just recently arrived to the city. After stumbling around as newcomers do, we ventured in to the Prague Beer Museum, just off Old Town Square; a bar in a touristy area, but with a local feel to it. I was greeted at the door by a hazy cloud that seemed to follow me around all night, clinging to every surface, infusing my hair and clothes with its distinctive scent.

My eyes felt it, my nose felt it, my lungs felt it. Four months later and I’m still adjusting to the secondhand smoke.

Prague is a beautiful city. It is both aesthetically and culturally cozy, romantic and indulgent— that is, when you can see through the haze at whatever pub or café you happen to have wandered into.

While Prague hosts some of the best pub experiences in Europe, they’re not for the faint of lungs. Smoking is entirely legal in restaurants, bars and pubs all over the city, only restricted at owners’ discretion. Pub culture in the Czech Republic is characterized by an enduring dynamic duo: a beer and a cigarette shared amongst friends. It is, after all, the nation with the world’s largest beer consumption per capita.

Just this year, Czech President Milos Zeman informed the Czech public that smoking as an adult now poses no health risks. Even if this statement were true, it still wouldn’t account for the 40 percent of Czechs aged 15-18 who smoke, according to recent data from the National Institute for Public Health. What’s more, the number of smokers has risen about five percent in the last decade, and the average age at

which Czechs have their first puff has gone down to twelve.

However, like many other social issues in the country, smoking culture is much more complex than it may seem. In contrast to politicians’ rhetoric and the vibe you might get at a local pub, the majority of Czech citizens do not share Zeman’s affection for cigarettes, and would actually support stricter anti-smoking policies that extend past certain public places like hospitals and tram stops.

So what’s stopping a ban? Naturally, the economy is a factor.

The revenue from cigarette companies is substantial, and critical to a nation that’s still relatively new to the world of capitalism.

Just as their American counterparts, cigarette company lobbyists are practiced at wooing government officials when it comes to discussing anti-smoking legislation. And don’t forget that the Czech Republic’s 50-year totalitarian communist regime ended just in 1989—personal freedoms of any form are valuable assets in Prague, and some would argue that smoking in public is, in fact, a civil right.

While a ban in the near future isn’t likely, there are more and more places popping up where you can enjoy a Czech beer smoke-free. Café v Lese, in Krymská (Prague 10), is popular with local Czechs and offers original, creative and strong­cocktails. Closer to Old Town Square, you’ll find La Casa Blu (Prague 1), a friendly hidden gem complete with Latin American cuisine. For a more traditional Prague experience, Lokal Blok (Prague 5) has cold Pilsner, an excellent menu full of homemade Czech favorites, and even a rock climbing obstacle course in the basement.

SWISS SURPRISES

by EMILY ALBERT

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Switzerland is probably one of the most bizarre and paradoxical places I’ve ever been—you’ll find you need to bend your mind a bit to “think Swiss.” But it’s very much worth it for the cheese, the trains, and the stern and weathered Swiss who really aren’t so stern after all.

Sure, as a tourist, Swiss prices seem outrageous… $13.65 for a Big Mac and fries?! But keep in mind that the average MacDo worker makes $18.90 an hour. They also usually get at least an hour and a half for lunch. Anything less than that would be inhumane, according to the Swiss!

Though the legal drinking age is 16 for beer and wine and 18 for hard liquor, you can’t buy alcohol past 10 p.m. But what happens if you run out or if you didn’t plan far enough in advance? Well that would just be outrageous! How un-Swiss!

The Swiss love red shoes! Watch the people at any train station or park and you’re bound to see at least one pair. Maybe they’re a subtle way to rebel against conservative Swiss society and fashion. Or maybe someone just imported too much red leather—who knows? But among men and women alike, there will always be a pair of funky red kicks in the closet beside their hiking boots.

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The Swiss practice direct democracy. That’s right, there is a referendum for every law that goes through, and in some towns this is still done in town-hall style in an open public space, like a market or a central courtyard. And get this: in the small Swiss-German town of Appenzell, the right to vote is still proven by wearing a traditional sword on the waist.

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For a rather traditional nation, there are many quirks that contradict its reputation. One of my favorites is that the public vending machines on the train platforms sell condoms, pregnancy tests, and hemp tea.

There are fresh, mountain-fed water fountains in nearly every town. They were originally built for horses, but continue to provide icy-fresh hydration for the avid Swiss hiker, or for the town locals (who essentially have to hike everywhere they go anyway).

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The Swiss don’t do debt, period. The majority of Swiss don’t have credit cards, and if they do, it’s almost always just one. And even wilder, the majority of Swiss people don’t take out mortgages.

They would rather rent a small apartment their entire life than take the risk of owning something they can’t currently afford. Very prudent, indeed.

Tiny Switzerland, smaller than the state of West Virginia, has four official languages. Study abroad at the University of Lausanne and you’ll be speaking French; study at University of Lugano in the Italian region of Ticino and you’ll be speaking Italian in no time. But don’t be fooled—it may sound and taste like Italy, but it will feel Swiss.

The ferries will arrive on the minute, there won’t be a piece of litter in sight, and you wouldn’t dare call a Ticino native Italian.

The Swiss nation is made up of 26 cantons—like U.S. states or Canadian provinces—but its legal and political system is more like the union of autonomous city-states in Ancient Greece. That’s one of the reasons they don’t feel the need to join the EU—It’s like a mini EU in itself! How can they be represented in the EU as one nation, united, when they themselves are so distinct in culture and value from region to region?

You can break the law by showering or doing laundry past quiet hours. Yes, I’m serious.

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NAVIGATING THE GUIA-T Though Buenos Aires has an extensive bus system to get you through the city, you’ll need a little help navigating the map.

by JAMIE KILIANY

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axis are so cheap in Buenos Aires—about $3 USD—that it was a few weeks before I decided to take the bus on my own, without the help of friends or wifi. Luckily, I had a little transportation guide book up my sleeve: the Guía-T. However, using this handy map takes some getting used to—it’s like playing a game of Battleship-meets-GoFish. You have to know the exact addresses of where you are and where you want to go.

Then you look up the street and block where you are in the index, turn to a map on a different page overlaid with a grid, put your finger on where you are located, and figure out the quadrant number (A2, B5, C6, etc.). Do not lose your spot. Return to the index and figure out which page the area you want to go to is on. Repeat: Do not lose your spot. Here’s how it goes: Page 6, B6, page 18, A3. B6 has bus 10, does A3? Flip. No. Go fish. Bus 14? Flip.

No. Go fish. 39? Flip. 60? Flip. 89? Flip. 101? Flip . 110? Flip (as pages begin to tear). Last try before I get a taxi! 121? Flip—Hallelujah!

There’s no satisfaction quite as great as finding the right bus. Here are some other pros of the colectivo:

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Bus drivers own their buses. From Playboy themes to homages to Mick Jagger, they get to decorate the dash however they want!

Many of the bus drivers are young, attractive, and suave. I once got on a bus where the driver was wearing a suit and sporting a well-groomed goatee.

The price. The most a bus ride will cost is 26 American cents.

Having to ask for the location of the bus stop forces you to leave your shy traveler bubble and interact with the people around you You’ll feel like a true porteño (a native of Buenos Aires) when you finally successfully take a bus from point A to point B.

BUENOS AIRES STREET ART

How does one react when confronted with art in the street? More often than not, passersby must be on their way. They keep walking. My photos capture the engagement—or lack there of—with art and graffiti in the streets of Buenos Aires.

by ALEX BATES

a local biking to school in La Represa photo by MADISON McCORMICK

DOMINICAN REPUBLIC

a street of Hondo Valle, a town in a deep valley six kilometers from the Haitian border photo by CAMILA AREVALO

THE OLD CITY

by KENDALL FRENCH-KAZEN

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erusalem’s Old City is a citadel fortress built on ancient walls and history. Three of the world’s major religions began in these tiny 0.35 square miles. Its backstory reads like a Game of Thrones synopsis, with a bevy of historical heists, sieges, and attacks. Despite its name, the Old City hosts a thriving, modern community against a backdrop of street markets, bustling crowds, and historical architecture. Here is a list of basic guidelines to follow to make the most of your visit.

HEED THE GOLDEN RULE Muslims, Jews, and Christians all consider Jerusalem a holy city, so it’s important that you treat religious customs with respect. Be considerate of religious landmarks and the traditions of the people around you. If you visit the area around the Dome of the Rock, remember to bring a headscarf—guards are adamant when it comes to covering heads and ankles. Keep in mind that there are restrictions on visiting hours for non-Muslims.

BE VIGILANT Thieves frequent the crowded parts of the Old City, so keep that purse closed and move important belongings further inside your backpack.

Make a mental checklist of your belongings and stay alert if shopkeepers or strangers approach you in the markets.

BARTER AND BARGAIN The Old City is famous for its labyrinthine street markets.

It’s a great place to snag a gift for family, but make sure you are getting a good deal on that wooden nativity set you have your eye on. Bargaining is encouraged so don’t be afraid to haggle prices down—just make sure you’re charged in the same currency you’re quoted for. Jerusalem’s currency is the New Israeli Shekel, and one American dollar is about four Israeli shekels.

USE A MAP The area is relatively small so it’s easy to explore on foot, and locals are often eager to help with directions as long as you treat them with respect. The city is divided into four sections: the Muslim Quarter, Jewish Quarter, Armenian Quarter and Christian Quarter. Many Christian sites such as the Church of St. Anne are actually located in the Muslim Quarter. Two of the most popular tourist destinations, the Wailing Wall and the Dome of the Rock, are on the east side of the Old City between the Jewish and Muslim Quarters.

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ehran, the largest city in Iran, boasts a unique geographical setting. The Alborz mountain range hugs the north of the city, and Mount Damavand, the tallest mountain in the Middle East, remains snow-capped year-round. An ascent on the Tochal cable cars provides awe-inspiring views of the mountain range, and is a great way to spend an afternoon. Be sure to consider the time of year you’re visiting, though—winter in Tehran can be dangerously chilly, while summer months can be broiling. Spring and autumn are the best for this outing.

A quintessential part of Persian and Middle Eastern culture is the bazaar. Practically a city within a city, the Grand Bazaar of Tehran is a hectic network of passages stretching more than 10 kilometers in length.

Carpets, one of the country’s most important exports, hang above everything from electronics to spices to clothing. Although smaller, the Tajrish Bazaar in the north also merits a visit, as it is one of the oldest bazaars in Iran. Other monuments worth a visit in Tehran include Naqsh-e Jahan Square, with its breathtaking dimensions, and the mosaic-covered Imam Mosque Isfahan.

The kebab is the star of Persian cuisine.

Various cooking techniques and seasonings mean that no two kebabs are alike. The national dish, chelo kebab, features rice and your choice of meat. There are innumerable great kebab places in Tehran, but Alborz has been ranked as one of the top ten restaurants in the city. For an after-dinner treat, try Sanaee Coffee Shop’s mouth-watering chocolate milkshake.

Whatever you choose to do in Iran, make sure you understand the country’s laws, which may be new to you. Iranian law requires women to wear headscarves and often a chador (cloak) when visiting landmarks. Men should stick to full-length pants. Make sure to carry all documentation with you wherever you’re going. Pay attention to where photography is restricted. Consuming alcohol is illegal in Iran, so don’t try to buy it locally or bring it with you from abroad. Though Iran is a conservative country, your stay will be fun and safe with a little logical thinking and familiarity.

tehran

by ARNOLD BUSZTIN

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entradas e saídas

by VANESSA CASTRO To my mother, traveling is a privilege. Whenever she ventured out of her home of Brazil, she brought her camera to document her experiences. An avid fan of old European architecture, she found herself photographing doors that caught her eye. Following my mother’s tradition, I have kept a tie to my family’s appreciation of cultural difference by capturing the doors I have found during my fortunate travels. I have found that these gateways give insight not only into the buildings’ history and architecture, but also the different characters they develop throughout time.

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