Somehow the past couple of months have zipped by in a whirl of plane rides and hotel rooms. I have two takeaways from this travel binge: 1) there really is never enough time to practice and 2) United, your in-flight safety video is so damn bland.
I figured it was high time to update this space, and to pick a couple of shots out of the several thousand photos I took over the past couple of months. So hold on and apologize to your housemates for the wifi suddenly slowing down—I’m here with a photodump.
Amalfi Coast, Italy
In July I had the joyful privilege of participating in the Amalfi Coast Music Festival, which was so great that for a week afterwards, I spent way too much time looking up the little coastal town I stayed in on Google Street View, sad-clicking my way through the streets.
In fact, I had such a good time that when Bryce whisked me off to Disneyland two days after I landed in the U.S., all I could do at the Happiest Place on Earth was look around and go “Well, this is cool, I guess.”
On my way back from Italy, I got to experience a Napcab and guys, it’s a game changer.
I have always admired and feared the types of people who have the ability to crash somewhere on the floor of an airport, using their carry-ons as pillows and sleeping like logs. I am incapable of doing such things, nor do I have the desire to, ever. I usually just stick it out and wait until I’m on the plane to sleep.
But thanks to a few consecutive nights of little sleep and a car ride that started around two in the morning, I was cranky as **** by the time I landed in Munich for a six-hour layover. I’d seen the Napcabs before and figured I might as well try them out, so I found a vacant one, swiped my credit card on the touchscreen outside, and dragged myself in.
Imagine a tiny micro-cabin engineered (in the most German way possible) to provide you everything you could possibly need to sleep comfortably. That’s what the Napcab was. It was small (I wouldn’t recommend trying to fit two people in there, and I’m not sure if you’re allowed to) but airy, and featured temperature control, soundproofing, space for luggage, a little table with bottled water, and a twin-sized bed with a fresh pillow and comforter. A touchscreen above the bed had flight information, a built-in alarm clock, controls for various ambient lighting settings, and a library of music. (There were also Bluetooth speakers but I was too tired to futz around with my phone.) With the door closed, the Napcab was a quiet haven of total peace, which was a miracle considering it was smack-dab in the middle of a busy airport.
I put Mozart on, buried myself under the comforter, and had the best freaking nap of my life.
I wish every airport had Napcabs. I wish Disneyland had Napcabs. I wish someone would build Napcabs every couple of blocks in every major city. The world needs Napcabs everywhere, is basically what I’m saying. I looked them up and currently Napcabs don’t exist anywhere outside of the Munich and Berlin airports, which is a crying shame.
Silicon Valley, get on this.
(Did I just write more about napping than I did about the several glorious weeks I spent in Italy? Why, yes, I did. Look, I just love naps, okay?!?)
In September I found myself 1) in London and 2) at a non-classical concert. Specifically, I saw Disclosure at the Apple Music Festival.
It was awesome. It was also very loud.
As a lifelong Anne Boleyn fangirl, I had to make the pilgrimage to the Tower of London, which was beautiful, historical, and very, very touristy. By chance I got very close to a Tower Raven, which was one of the healthiest, most well-kept birds I’ve ever seen, and also had way more swagger than most people I know.
I also spent a good deal of my time in London’s Chinatown, because every time I’m in Europe, some weird instinct will kick in and I will seek out the nearest Chinese-speaking people and pretend I’m back in Taiwan. I had fish and chips exactly once while I was in London, and Taiwanese/Chinese food for pretty much every other meal. #noregrets
And my high-school, Les-Miz-obsessed self felt all the feels when this happened:
After London there were funtimes in Paris to be had. For several days, I gorged myself on amazing food—the veal liver at Le Grand Café des Capucines still haunts my dreams—and bumbled around the city attempting to speak French.
We spent a day in Disneyland Paris and I fulfilled one of my minor-league life goals of eating ratatouille at Bistrot Chez Rémy. (I am a grown adult and I am not ashamed of the fact that Ratatouille is one of my all-time favorite movies.)
Now that I’m back in the States, I am back to my usual routine of avoiding my emails and Facebook messages and spending more time with my piano than with actual people.
Which is exactly how I like it.
(All photos taken by me, on an iPhone 6, except for the Disclosure photo, which was taken by Bryce.)