Summer and Kayla say ‘so long, London’ and head in new directions (for the weekend!)

Welcome back to another week of London life and missing American snacks (we found Goldfish at a grocery store, but they must be shipped directly from the US or something because they were 10 British pounds per bag…not in the budget.)

This week, we’ll be giving you a rundown of our separate adventures this past weekend, written from split first-person POV. That’s right, Kayla and Summer spent more than 24 hours apart. It’s happening next weekend too when we travel to Greece and Monaco, respectively. The horror! But it’s arguably more fun to read, so you’re getting a two-for-one deal on travel stories this week.

First up is Summer and her adventures in Austria:

When studying abroad you expect to have a few wild weekends. What I didn’t expect was that Salzburg, Austria, would provide me with an entire novella of experiences crammed into 72 hours. It all began innocently enough—flying in to visit some friends (shoutout to Hannah Dauer and Sophie Maslow, two amazing CSB juniors who are currently spending the semester in Salzburg). I was anticipating a calm scenic weekend. Instead, I was thrown into the most ridiculous cab drive of my life. My driver apparently moonlighted as a Formula 1 racer, or at least he thought so. He zoomed through the streets of Salzburg with a kind of reckless abandon that made me question whether I’d ever see the city or my friends again. But hey, I survived, and that’s what counts.

The first thing on the weekend itinerary was a hike, of course. All the buses in the Salzburg area were free this past weekend due to the celebration of St. Rupert’s feast (the patron St. of Salzburg). Naturally we took this as an opportunity to travel to St. Gilgen’s. There we wandered up steep hills, enjoying the lush Austrian countryside, feeling both like seasoned explorers and slightly regretting every step (the way up was all stairs).

The reward, however, was worth it. We made our way to a quaint little restaurant at the top of the peak and enjoyed some appetizers together. The journey down was much easier than the one up, but still didn’t come without challenges. There were a few slips and trips on rocks, but we made it down with only a few scrapes and maybe some lost confidence in our hiking skills.

After our hike, we decided it was time to jump into the crystal-clear lake, which could have doubled as a cryotherapy chamber. We didn’t realize that we would basically be doing a polar plunge, and the water was so cold it would have made a penguin reconsider its life choices. Refreshing? Sure. Questionable life choice? Maybe. Were all the locals staring at us? Most definitely.

The weekend wouldn’t have been complete, though, without celebrating St. Rupert’s Day, where the town square turned into a vibrant and bustling festival. Rows of markets lined the streets, with vendors selling everything from traditional trinkets to massive pretzels the size of dinner plates (I have no shame in saying that I devoured one, and it was delicious). The aroma of freshly baked sweets and sausages wafted through the air as locals and tourists indulged in everything Austria had to offer.

Of course, no trip to Salzburg would be complete without a quick stop at Mirabellplatz, where scenes from The Sound of Music were filmed. Being the unapologetic tourist that I am, I couldn’t resist humming “Do Re-Mi” while wandering through the gardens. As much as I tried to play it cool, you could find me skipping around like Maria herself, fully embracing the Salzburg spirit.

After a weekend full of laughter, good food and many smiles, saying goodbye the morning of my flight was so hard. Knowing that I would see both Hannah and Sophia again soon on another upcoming trip was the only thing that got me on the bus to the airport. By the time I made it back to London, I had an album’s worth of memories.

If you ever find yourself in Salzburg, don’t forget your hiking boots, your sense of adventure and please, for the love of all things good, try the pretzels. They’re life-changing.

Next up is Kayla and a weekend spent in Spain:

My weekend essentially functioned as an international family reunion—I have family that just moved to Valencia, Spain, in July. My cousin Liz, her husband Patrick and their two adorable kids have spent the last three months getting used to their new home, and they hosted me for the weekend.

Living in Valencia for a few months already has made them fantastic tour guides, which is great for me because a good 90% of the time I have no clue what I am doing in a new city.

Regardless, this trip was a breeze right from the start—the airport in Valencia is small compared to the ones we travel through in London, which makes everything ten times easier to navigate.

The Valencia airport is just 15 minutes away from where I stayed, which is an underrated thing to appreciate about a city. I flew out of London Gatwick airport, which requires three tube stops, a national rail train transfer (and then three more stops) and an airport shuttle to even reach the south terminal. Fifteen minutes in a cab in comparison is a gift.

I spent the rest of the weekend with my family, enjoying some familiar faces after a month in a new country. On Friday Liz and I wandered through the city center until it was time for the kids to be grabbed from school. At the school Liz and Patrick’s kids attend in Valencia, they round up the kids who have birthdays in the same month and throw a blowout bash for all of them at once, and the September one was planned for this past Friday. I didn’t have anything else planned, so why not tag along? It gave me a chance to see a different part of the city and I was just happy to be with family.

When we arrived, I was confused…we appeared to be in a bar, not a kid’s birthday party. I realized quickly that there was a play place attached to the bar, and the parents send their kids off to play while they eat tapas and have drinks together for three to four hours. It was great. Basically, parents in Spain have it figured out. We should all be taking notes.

I spent the rest of the night socializing and attempting to use my high school (and one semester in college, thanks Integrations Curriculum) level Spanish. Spoiler alert: This didn’t go very well. A fun fact about me is that I was raised by two parents who have some level of degree in Spanish, but I haven’t spoken it in a while and have forgotten most of it…sorry mom and dad. I said “hola” and “gracias” and that was about it, so thank God for my family there who are steadily increasing their Spanish.

Also, it turns out when they tell you about the “vosotros” verb form and then say, “We’re going to gloss over this; it’s only really used in Spain” they’re not kidding! It’s used a lot, and I was incredibly confused! In school we mostly skipped that unit—that’s my only defense.

The rest of the weekend was spent shopping, eating paella, marveling at the fact that Spanish wine is cheaper by the bottle than water and lounging at the beach. I very stupidly forgot that the UV would be pretty high there even in September, so I’ve got a lovely sunburn on most of my face and nose. If you see me looking like Rudolph for the next few days…mind your business. This weekend was quite literally the perfect break—the planning was taken care of for me, the city was beautiful, the food was great and it was the best medicine for the homesickness that you don’t realize you have until you’re running around on the beach with family you haven’t seen in a while.

That’s all for this week, folks. We’ll see you on the page again next time, and we hope this gave you some inspiration for activities for your next international trip…pretzels, birthday parties, you get the gist