Venice: Fried Chicken, Backstreets, and Bookish Nostalgia

After wrapping up my time in Zagreb, I hopped on a train bound for Italy — a full-day journey that turned out to be one of the most beautiful rides I’ve ever taken.

The train rolled through Slovenia’s lush hills and quiet towns. Somewhere along the way, a station went down, and I found myself suddenly being pulled off the train by the conductor. Thick accent, zero shared language — but she was determined to get me where I needed to go. She loaded me onto a random bus to the next section of track, made sure I understood what was happening (sort of), and waved me off like a true hero.

Later that day, I had a three-hour layover in Villach, Austria. I figured I’d kill time at the train station — until hunger (and curiosity) got the better of me. I wandered outside, walked a block or two… and immediately stumbled into what felt like a time capsule.

The whole town was in celebration mode — music echoing off stone buildings, rows of stalls selling roasted meats and hand-carved trinkets, and a steady flow of people wearing traditional Austrian clothing. Dirndls, lederhosen, wide-brimmed alpine hats — the works. It wasn’t for tourists. It felt like something the locals did every year, like clockwork, and I just happened to be there at the right moment.

I grabbed some crispy fried chicken from a festival stall — hot, greasy, absolutely perfect — and found a spot to watch the parade roll by. Marching bands, dancers, and whole families in embroidered folk dress walked past like it was the most normal thing in the world. Kids waved from horse-drawn carts. Older couples swayed to accordion music. It felt like everyone in Villach had come out for this.

And then, just as fast as it appeared, it poured. The sky went black, and the rain came down in sheets. No warning — just chaos. Everyone scrambled for cover under awnings and archways, laughing and holding onto their steins of beer like lifelines. I took that as my cue to run for the station. When I got back, I looked like a drowned rat.

But honestly? It was one of the most unexpectedly magical stops of the trip. No ticket, no plan — just good timing and a reminder that the best travel moments are usually the ones you stumble into.

The rest of the journey into Italy was uneventful, and late that night, I arrived in Venice.

Day One: Getting Lost (On Purpose)

I spent two days in Venice, and I mean this in the best way — I was never really sure where I was.

On my first full day, I signed up for a walking tour called The Backstreets of Venice. Easily one of the best decisions of the trip. Our guide — who calls himself a "Backstreet Boy" because he refuses to walk the main tourist paths — led us on a maze-like trek through alleys, over canals, and into parts of the city most people will never see.

We started in the Jewish Quarter, learned how Venice is the birthplace of quarantine (literally quaranta giorni — 40 days), and saw the site of the first-ever pawn shop — the inspiration for Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. Then he told us something I didn’t expect: Venice is also the birthplace of Carnival masks.

He explained how Carnival started as a way for nobles and peasants to blend in — and misbehave — without being recognized. But despite all the flashy tourist mask shops around today, there are only three traditional styles that actually go back centuries:

• Bauta: the full-face white mask with a long square jaw (worn with a tricorn hat)

• Moretta: the black velvet mask held in place by biting a button (used by women)

• Volto: the simple, ghostly white mask that became the most iconic

Everything else is just modern decoration.

As we moved through the city, the guide pointed out another strange detail I’d never have noticed on my own: nearly every corner in Venice has a statue, niche, or shrine built into it. They aren’t just decorative — they were originally put there so no one could hide in a dark corner and jump someone. The city was built like a stage, but also like a trap. No place to lurk. Always lit. Always seen. It was wild to realize how much thought went into designing not just for beauty, but for safety.

He even showed us the narrowest alleyway in the entire city, which opened into a hidden courtyard with just six little homes. It felt like discovering a secret level.

After that, we took a short 2-euro ferry across the canal, and the tour ended in a massive, lesser-known church — where we saw the largest oil painting in the world. I wasn’t expecting much, but the sheer scale and detail of it stopped me in my tracks. Just standing beneath it, in the quiet of the church, was unforgettable.

The whole group followed the guide afterward to a tucked-away spot called The Dolphin, where we sat down for pasta, wine, and conversation in a quiet back alley. It was the kind of night that makes you forget time exists.

Day Two: Boats, Bookstores, and Fiction Flashbacks

The next day, I set off on my own little self-guided adventure — jumping on and off the public boats that snake their way through the city. Venice doesn’t have cars or bikes, so boats are the transit system. It’s equal parts ferry, scenic cruise, and chaotic floating traffic jam.

I eventually met up with a few people from the hostel to do the classic gondola ride — and honestly? It lived up to the hype. Floating through the quiet back canals with water lapping just below you, listening to the oars dip in and out — it was pure magic.

Pro tip, though: skip the Venice tourist pass. It’s overpriced, and unless you’re hopping on boats constantly, it’s not worth it. Just pay as you go and you’ll spend way less.

At one point, I made a stop at a bookstore that’s gone viral on TikTok and Instagram — Libreria Acqua Alta, the one with the staircase made of old books. It’s marketed as “the most beautiful bookstore in the world.” It’s not. Not even close. I showed up genuinely excited and left totally disappointed. The staircase was tiny and awkward, the place was overcrowded with tourists taking selfies, and the books inside were more moldy prop than literary treasure. It felt more like a tourist trap than a real bookstore. Skip it.

That evening, I kept things simple. I stayed in the city, found a good spot by the Grand Canal, and just watched the city breathe. Taxis and ferries cut through the water, gondoliers drifted by under golden light, and the buildings lit up like a painted set. Venice is the kind of place that asks you to slow down. I did. And it was worth it.

As I sat there, it hit me — the city reminded me of the Warrens from The Night Angel Trilogy. That was the book series that got me into reading, and Venice’s endless maze of canals, alleys, and hidden neighborhoods felt exactly like those shadowy, secret-filled streets from Kylar Stern’s world. It didn’t feel like walking through a city. It felt like walking through a story.

Final Thoughts from the Floating City

Before this trip, I had this romantic idea in the back of my mind that maybe I’d move to Italy one day. Spend my days surrounded by art, history, and food. But even after just a couple days in Venice, something started to shift. It wasn’t the heat yet — that came later — but I could already tell: this wasn’t going to be my place. The magic is real, but so are the crowds, the prices, and the endless tourism machine. I loved visiting. I don’t need to stay.

Next Stop: Rome

After two days of canals, mazes, tourist traps, and fiction-fueled nostalgia, I packed up and caught the train to Rome — ready for ruins, bureaucracy, and the blazing Roman sun.

48 Hours in Zagreb, Croatia — A Chaotic Arrival & A Chill city

Arrival Day — A Comedy of Errors

Getting to Zagreb was an adventure all on its own.

I took an 8-hour train from Budapest that I almost missed because I went to the wrong train station. Realizing my mistake, I jumped on public transport without a ticket and had to dodge a fare inspector just to make it on time. Of course, the train was 30 minutes late anyway.

The train itself felt like something from another era—old, mostly empty, no AC—but with the windows down, I spent a good chunk of the ride with my head out the window, enjoying the breeze like a dog. Halfway through the trip, a ticket inspector informed us we had to switch coaches because the one I was on was being left behind. So I grabbed my bags and upgraded myself to an empty first-class coach for the final two hours.

There was no dining car, which meant I was starving by the time we pulled into Zagreb. I grabbed a Bolt (the European Uber) to my hostel, and let me tell you—that hostel was fantastic. It was just outside the city center, and I lucked out with a suite upstairs that had a private common area. I only shared it with two other people, making it by far the best hostel stay of this trip so far.

I grabbed a pizza that night and absolutely crashed. Travel days will do that to you.

The Hostel Hero: Igor & the Portland Connection

One of the highlights of Zagreb wasn’t a landmark—it was a person.

The owner of the hostel, Igor, was incredibly welcoming and laid-back. When he found out I was from Portland, Oregon, he absolutely lit up. Turns out, he’s a massive fan of the old TV show Grimm, which was filmed in Portland, and he started peppering me with questions about the city and Oregon in general.

We ended up chatting for a while about the Pacific Northwest—forests, rain, coffee shops, the whole deal. It was one of those random travel moments that just sticks with you: bonding with a stranger in another country over something as niche as a TV show filmed in your hometown. Igor said visiting Portland has been a dream of his for years.

That kind of connection makes the world feel a little smaller—and a lot more interesting.

Day 1 — Sightseeing, Street Photography & Camera Hunting

The next morning, I set off to explore Zagreb. A surprising number of the main sights were under renovation, so I couldn’t go inside most of them. Still, the city had a unique charm, and I managed to squeeze in some street photography while wandering through the older parts of town.

I also went to every camera store in the city hunting for a DJI 360 camera. No luck finding it, but it turned into a fun little side quest.

Later in the day, I tried some local chicken, which hit the spot after all the walking. The evening was spent back at the hostel playing card games and hanging out. Honestly, that place made it really easy to unwind.

Day 2 — Haircuts, Lakeside Lounging & Reverse Kangaroo

Day two was a slower one, but no less memorable.

It started with a bit of a gamble: I walked into a random barber shop and quickly realized the woman working there didn’t speak a word of English. And I definitely don’t speak Croatian.

So we did what any two people from different worlds do when scissors are involved—we mimed. I pointed, gestured, used a lot of thumbs up/thumbs down, and hoped for the best. Somehow, she totally nailed it. She not only gave me a great cut, but she also trimmed and lined up my beard perfectly. No idea how she understood what I was going for, but she crushed it. Honestly one of the best travel haircuts I’ve ever had.

With fresh hair and a sharper jawline, I headed out to a lake just outside of town with some fellow travelers. We spent most of the day relaxing by the water, soaking up the sun and chatting.

Later in the day, a summer storm rolled in. I got back to the hostel just as the sky opened up, so any hopes of going back out to shoot the city were scrapped.

But the rain brought something better.

An Australian girl at the hostel rallied a bunch of us together and taught us a card game she made up herself, called Reverse Kangaroo. We played it for nearly three hours, laughing, arguing about the rules (which kept changing), and getting way too competitive for a game no one had heard of before that night.

It was one of those classic hostel moments—strangers becoming temporary friends over shared shelter, bad weather, and a totally made-up game.

That night, I went to bed early to prep for a 6 AM train, but I fell asleep feeling full in a way food doesn’t cover.

Zagreb Recap

Zagreb wasn’t the most action-packed stop of my trip, but it had a ton of heart—chill days, hilarious moments, a great hostel, and some unexpected connections that I won’t forget anytime soon.

Next stop: Venice, Italy — and the beginning of my month-long adventure through Italy.

Not Enough Time in Budapest – Baths, Bastions, and Late-Night Riverlight

I was originally going to take the train from Berlin to Budapest — until I looked at the route. Fourteen hours and six different trains. Hard pass. Instead, I booked a flight. Best decision of the trip. Forty-five minutes later, I was in Hungary, and somehow lucked into a first-class seat. Not a bad way to arrive in a new country.

The first thing that hit me wasn’t the architecture or the river — it was the money. Everyone I’d met traveling through Europe had told me Hungarian Forints were the most “useless” money on the continent. And they weren’t wrong. Five U.S. dollars translated into something like 2,000 Forints, and holding the bills honestly felt like I’d just raided a Monopoly box. It was absurd, and yet, once I got used to it, the prices were shockingly cheap. Trains, trams, food — everything felt like it cost nothing at all.

But the money wasn’t what made me want to stay. The city itself did. Budapest is, hands down, one of the most beautiful cities on the planet. From its mix of Gothic, Baroque, and Art Nouveau buildings to the way the Danube cuts right through the heart of it, everything feels like it belongs on a postcard. Even just standing on a bridge at sunset, watching trams rattle by and the skyline glow, I felt like I’d stumbled into a dream.

Day One: Wandering and Shooting

That first afternoon I didn’t have a plan — I just wandered. Wide boulevards, massive bridges, ornate facades — the city felt alive in a way that demanded attention.

And then the photographer in me kicked in. I’d been traveling for weeks, shooting plenty, but Budapest was different. It made me want to chase the light, to frame every corner, every shadow. After hours of walking, I dropped my bag back at the hostel, grabbed my gear, and went right back out.

That’s when I learned what Budapest really looks like at night. The city glows. Parliament lit up like a golden crown, bridges strung with light like jewelry across the Danube, trams carving streaks of yellow through the dark. I walked for hours, taking long exposures, reflections shimmering on the river, and just soaking in the magic. It was the kind of night that makes you forget how tired you are.

A Tale of Two Cities

What I didn’t know before coming here is that Budapest is actually two cities — Buda and Pest, divided by the Danube River. The name is literally just both sides mashed together.

I stayed on the Pest side, which feels like the heart of the city — lively, dense, and filled with people, cafés, and music. Buda sits higher up and looks much older (because it was built to look that way). It’s way quieter and mostly filled with tourists heading to Fisherman’s Bastion or the castle.

For some reason, my brain kept wanting to call it Fisherman’s Wharf. I knew it was wrong every time — but it never stopped happening.

Day Two: Markets, Baths, and a Cruise into the Night

The next morning I met up with a group of people from my hostel, and we decided to check out the Great Market Hall together. The place is massive — three floors of stalls selling everything from paprika and cured meats to tourist trinkets and fresh produce. It smelled like spice and grilled food the moment we walked in, and it was easy to get lost weaving between stalls.

After eating our way through the market, we headed over to the Szechenyi Thermal Bath. The iconic yellow palace of hot water and steam is a maze of outdoor pools, steam rooms, saunas, and mineral baths — and it’s worth every Forint.

Pro tip: If you pay in cash at the door, it's way cheaper than booking online. I had no idea until I got there, but it saved me a solid chunk of change.

Later that evening, I grabbed some food near the castle, and then came the real highlight — a 10pm river cruise.

I already knew Budapest looked good at night from my first walk with the camera, but seeing it from the middle of the Danube was something else entirely. The Parliament building glowed gold on the water, bridges arched across the river, and the city looked like it was designed to be photographed from a boat.

Afterward, with the city still humming, tourists mostly gone, I walked up to Fisherman’s Bastion. Just past 9pm, it was free to visit, and just as empty as the city itself. I climbed the ramparts, just the sound of my own footsteps on old stone, a view over the river, and the lights of Pest blinking across the water. It felt surreal.

Not Enough Time

I wish I had stayed longer. There’s so much more I wanted to see — more markets, more baths, more quiet walks along the river. Budapest has a way of pulling you in and making you want to slow down, but I denied the urge to give it the time it deserved.

Still, I’m glad I came. By seeing these castles, walking these streets, and chasing the city through my camera — it has become one of my favorite stops so far.

A Week in Germany

I spent a week in Germany—three nights in Munich and the rest in Berlin. Two very different cities, both with their own quirks.

Munich: Weather, Markets, Film Cameras, and Homemade Mac & Cheese

The Rathaus

Munich was calm and clean, but I didn’t get to explore as much as I’d hoped because of the weather. That said, I really enjoyed wandering through Marienplatz and visiting the Rathaus (Town Hall). One afternoon, I happened to walk into a flash mob—a group of teens doing a full-blown anime dance routine right in the middle of the square. The best part wasn’t the dancing—it was watching the locals try to figure out what the hell was going on. It was super funny and totally unexpected.

I also spent time exploring the local markets, which were full of fresh produce, sausages, and flowers. Even though I didn’t buy much, walking through the stalls was a great way to experience the city’s vibe.

One of the coolest discoveries was a vintage camera shop tucked away on a side street—entirely film cameras, beautifully displayed and well-kept. I didn’t end up buying anything, but I had a great time checking everything out and chatting with the guy who ran the place.

Just a small section of the shop

While killing time on a rainy day, I went to a history museum that ended up being way more fun than I expected. They had an interactive exhibit where you could try on pieces of medieval armor. The breastplate was way too small—definitely made for someone shorter than me—but I managed to slip on a pair of gauntlets, which actually fit. Still, even just wearing that much gave me a new appreciation for how heavy and clunky that stuff really is.

My hostel had a giant Ferris wheel right outside that I kept meaning to ride, but it never once ran while I was there. Still no idea why.

And maybe the biggest win: I finally had a good kitchen. After weeks of cramped hostel setups, I had a proper space to cook and decided to treat myself by making mac and cheese from scratch. It hit the spot. Simple, familiar—exactly what I needed.

Berlin: Grit, Graffiti, and Surprisingly Great Crêpes

Graffiti in Berlin

Berlin was wild. It felt like the dirtiest city I’ve been to in Europe so far—graffiti on literally everything—but somehow, it still worked. The people were super friendly, and the city had this chaotic energy that kind of grew on me.

The public transit, though? Total mess. Expensive, always late, and everyone I met basically told me not to pay for it. So I didn’t. I rode around like a local—no ticket, just vibes.

I met up with a friend I’d made earlier in the trip, and we hit the big spots together: Brandenburg Gate, the Berlin Wall, and Checkpoint Charlie. Seeing all of that in person was a trip. There's just something surreal about walking through places that were once literal Cold War front lines. The wall is still scarred and tagged up, but standing next to it and reading the signs really hit different. Like… history happened right here.

Right in the middle of all that, we stumbled into a massive Pride event happening at the gate. The vibe was great—free concerts, dancing, and this wild energy everywhere. But one of the coolest surprises? LEGO had a full setup there with build stations and custom Pride minifigs on display. It was way cooler than I expected and definitely got me hyped for something I’ve been planning for a while—my upcoming trip to Denmark and a visit to LEGO House.

It also kinda kicked off an accidental tradition. Now I’m trying to visit a LEGO store in every country I go to, just to see what cool displays or regional exclusives they’ve got going on. Berlin was stop one, and they set the bar pretty high.

And speaking of surprises—I had the best crêpe of my life from a little stand near one of the transit stations. Banana and Nutella, buttery, just the right crisp on the edge. I went back the next day like a total crêpe addict.

On Sunday, Berlin basically shuts down. Most shops and cafes were closed, so I wandered into a mall, did some people-watching, and eventually caught Fantastic Four: First Steps just because it was one of the only things open. And you know what? I liked it. Not a masterpiece, but it hit the spot and gave me a reason to chill for a couple hours.

Leaving Germany

Getting out of Berlin was unnecessarily stressful. The trains are never on time. I left at 9 a.m. for what should’ve been a quick three-stop ride to the airport, but because earlier trains were randomly skipped, I didn’t arrive until 11. I was genuinely worried I’d miss my flight.

Next stop: Budapest. I had originally planned to take the train, but after that whole experience, I decided to skip the 10-hour ride and just fly instead. Sometimes convenience wins.

One Night in Salzburg – Pretzels, Pod Beds, and a View from the Battlements

Salzburg castel

Every morning while I was in Vienna, I started my day the same way: at the same little bakery. I’d fumble my way through ordering in bad German, point a lot, smile awkwardly. And on my last morning, the owner smiled back and said, “You're getting better with your nicht gut German.” It was the nicest roast I’ve ever received. That morning I caught a train to Salzburg — or tried to, at least.

Train Troubles and a Missing GoPro

I forgot to book a seat, so I ended up sitting on the floor by the door, watching other passengers walk past my hiker-goblin corner. Thankfully, it was only a 90-minute ride, so it wasn’t terrible.

That’s when I noticed something: my GoPro was gone.

No idea exactly when it disappeared, but I’m guessing it got snagged at Vienna’s main station. Super annoying. That said, I’ve decided to treat it as an excuse to upgrade — the new DJI 360 cam drops July 31st, and I’m already planning to pick it up somewhere along the way.

Pod Hotel & a Cheddar Bacon Win

The best pretzel I have ever had

When I got to Salzburg, I checked into my hotel — not realizing it was a pod hotel. But honestly? It was perfect. Just a clean, quiet little space with a closing door and zero hostel chaos. After a week of packed bunks and shared bathrooms, it was exactly what I needed.

But before crashing, I had one thing I absolutely had to do: visit the Salzburg Fortress.

On the walk up, I grabbed another pretzel — this one stuffed with cheddar and bacon. Might’ve been a gas station special, but it was amazing. Austria’s pretzel game has not missed once.

Salzburg Fortress: City from the Sky

View from the Castle

The castle itself? Worth every uphill step.

I spent a few hours exploring the walls, towers, and museums, but my favorite part was standing on the battlements, looking out over the city. The rooftops, the churches, the winding streets below — and beyond it all, the hills.

Salzburg has that fairytale feel to it. Compact but grand. Clean and quiet, but full of subtle beauty. Even in just a few hours, it left an impression.

And I highly, highly recommend it.

Not only is it beautiful, but the city gives you a free public transit pass with your hotel stay — which is incredibly useful and makes everything feel more accessible. If the hotel prices weren’t so steep, I absolutely would’ve stayed another day.

One Quiet Night

That night, I took some final photos, found a quiet spot to sit for a while, and called it. My pod was waiting. So was an early for the train to Munich.

Vienna by Rail – A Window Seat, a Hidden Hostel, and the Best Church You’ve Never Heard Of

Vienna is a hard city to captue

Leaving Prague wasn’t easy, but the train ride to Vienna made for a solid transition. I had a window seat, the landscape was perfect, and I recorded a time-lapse of the entire four-hour ride that somehow managed to be more calming than a meditation app.
Train Time-Lapse: Prague to Vienna

It felt like a quiet moment between chapters — four hours of countryside, rooftops, and rivers, slipping by like a soft reset.

Arrival Confusion and a Hidden Hostel

The calm ended the second I arrived in Wien Hauptbahnhof.

The main station in Vienna is… a lot. I had no idea where I was or which exit to take, so I just hopped on a random bus to anywhere else to regroup. Eventually, I figured out how to reach my hostel, which was tucked away not far from the city center, right off a tram line — but so well hidden I walked past it twice.

The place? Stadtaffe Chic. Despite the name sounding like a Berlin DJ set, it was actually one of the best hostels I’ve stayed in — clean, social, and surprisingly quiet when it needed to be.

Belvedere Museum: A Bit Meh, but Napoleon Made Up for It

After settling in, I headed out to the Belvedere Museum, which is supposed to be one of Vienna’s top art spots. I’ll be honest — it didn’t really hit for me. The museum itself felt kind of sterile, with a lot of white walls and a vibe that made it hard to feel connected to what I was looking at.

But there was one exception that made the whole visit worth it: Napoleon on his horse. Seeing David’s painting in person — larger than life and full of power — was one of those “okay, this is cool” moments that no photo can replace.

Quick tip: they don’t let you carry backpacks inside, so I had to rent a locker before going in, which was a mild hassle but not a dealbreaker.

I didn’t linger too long inside, so I wandered out to the Belvedere grounds, which were way more my speed. The gardens are perfect, with long paths, fountains, and shady spots to just sit and take it all in. I grabbed a bench to relax for a bit — and, of course, that’s when a random rainstorm hit.

What cracked me up was how nobody freaked out. People just casually claimed benches, huddled under trees, or leaned against covered walls, treating it like an excuse to take a break. The storm only lasted about 20 minutes, but it felt like the whole garden had agreed: “Yeah, let’s sit down for a minute.”

Museums, Film Nights, and Accidental Friend Groups

Later that evening, I wandered into Vienna’s free open-air film festival happening outside the Rathaus (City Hall).

I thought I’d watch for an hour. I ended up staying the entire evening. It was the perfect summer vibe — movies under the stars, food stalls with everything from schnitzel to Thai noodles, and a live band warming up the crowd before the screenings. It felt like the city was just handing out good vibes for free.

By pure accident, I met a group of fellow travelers there — all solo like me — and by the end of the night, we were already making plans to meet up the next morning. Vienna had done the thing I love most about travel: casually throwing people into my orbit that I never would’ve met otherwise.

Flea Markets and the Worst Walking Tour (But Cool Roman Ruins)

The next morning, our newly formed group met up and hit one of Vienna’s big flea markets. It was a mix of absolute gems and chaotic junk. If I had more than one backpack, I would’ve bought something dumb and regrettably cool. The watch selection alone was insane — vintage, unique, and probably stolen. I didn’t buy anything, but I definitely stared too long.

From there, we went on a free walking tour, which… was rough. It felt more like a drawn-out commercial for local businesses than an actual tour of the city. Three hours long, three miles covered. But there were some cool bits — like how Vienna went through a phase of rejecting religious symbolism, so instead of saints and angels, many of the old buildings are decorated with Greek gods representing modern technology.

And we did get to see some ancient Roman ruins in the city center, which were legitimately awesome. So, not a total loss.

War, Books, and a Hidden Church Masterpiece

The following day, we regrouped again and hit the Museum of Military History — one of the most detailed and intense military museums I’ve ever been to. Massive rooms filled with centuries of armor, weapons, and real historical artifacts. If you’re into warfare history, this place is a must.

Next stop: Austrian National Library. This place deserves its own post. It’s a book-lover’s dream — marble floors, ceiling frescoes, spiral staircases, and rows of antique books stacked under golden light. I wanted to spend an entire day there, just getting lost in it. Unfortunately, we only had an hour.

Our final stop was a recommendation from someone in the group: Jesuit Church. They called it a “hidden gem” and they weren’t wrong. Tucked away between more famous landmarks, this church quietly flexes as one of the most breathtaking I’ve ever seen — and I check out pretty much every church I come across now.

The inside? Absolute masterpiece. Gilded columns, surreal symmetry, and painted ceilings that pull your eyes upward and don’t let go. It wasn’t in any guidebook I’d read, but it easily beat out the more famous cathedrals.

📸 Jesuit Church – proof that the best places don’t always make the front page.

Vienna’s Vibe: Polished, But It’ll Win You Over

Vienna had a different rhythm than Prague. Bigger, cleaner, a bit more polished. Less rough magic, more refined moments. But the city grew on me fast — through film festivals, back-alley churches, and random conversations at food stalls.

It’s the kind of place that feels buttoned-up at first, but if you stick around long enough, it starts loosening its tie and showing you its fun side.

Up next: Salzburg. One night only.

Prague – The Journey Starts with Cobblestones, Castles, and a Pretzel I'll Never Forget

Prague was supposed to be a three-day stop. It turned into six.

Over looking Charles Bridge and Prague Castle

It was my first time in the city — and honestly, the perfect place to start this trip. Between the medieval architecture, the walkable neighborhoods, and a surprisingly efficient public transit system, it was almost too easy to fall into a rhythm. I walked over 10 miles a day, ate like I had something to prove, and got more out of the week than I expected.

Day One: Jet Lag and Fried Chicken

After a chaotic travel day involving a delayed flight, a missed seat upgrade, and a mad dash through Amsterdam, I landed in Prague running on fumes. I didn’t do much — just wandered a bit, tried to stay awake, and found what appeared to be a bootleg Popeyes called Luisana Chicken.

No notes. It was incredible. Better than the real thing.

Day Two: Castles, Crossbows, and a Sausage That Tried to Kill Me

I kicked things off with a walking tour of Prague Castle through 100 Spires City Tours. After the tour, I stayed for hours to explore on my own.

The highlight? St. Vitus Cathedral. I stepped inside and just froze. The silence, the light, the raw stone — it took my breath away. I actually said “holy shit” out loud, and a few people turned around. No regrets.

St. Vitus Cathedral – nothing prepared me for this.

Later, I wandered down to Golden Lane, where I shot a crossbow at a paper knight target. Because apparently, that's something you can just do in Prague.

On the way back to the hostel, I grabbed a spicy cheese sausage from a street vendor. It looked innocent. It was not. Molten cheese, hidden heat — the kind of snack that burns your mouth, your soul, and still makes you go back for a second bite.

This sausage nearly ended me. I would absolutely eat it again.

Day Three: Heavy History, New Friends, and a Michelin Pretzel

After switching to a new hostel — The Checked Inn (less cozy, but way more social) — I connected with a few travelers who quickly became my Prague crew.

We joined another 100 Spires tour, this time focused on World War II and the fall of communism. It was sobering and intense, covering resistance movements, Nazi occupation, and life under Soviet rule. You don’t walk away from it unchanged.

After the tour, we stumbled into what we thought was a pub — and slowly realized we were in a Michelin-starred restaurant. Casual, cheap, completely unassuming. I ordered a pretzel, mostly out of curiosity, and it ended up being one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Warm, golden, just the right amount of salt. A surprise hit.

Michelin-star pretzel. I wasn't emotionally prepared.

We spent the rest of the day wandering the city together, sharing stories and comparing notes from our different tours like a bunch of history-obsessed backpackers.

Into the Czech Countryside: A Game Becomes Real

With a few extra days to spare, I took a bus out into the countryside to visit real-world locations featured in Kingdom Come: Deliverance. Somewhere along the ride — watching thick forests roll by and seeing shrines along the roadside — it hit me: this landscape felt familiar. Not because I’d been here before, but because I’d explored a digital version of it. The game led me here, but the real thing hit harder.

Talmberk Castle (aka Talmburg) was little more than some forgotten ruins in someone’s backyard. Cool in theory, underwhelming in person. But still — standing there, it felt weirdly significant.

Then there was Sázava Monastery — or rather, Sasau. It was peaceful, beautiful, and felt like it had held onto time itself. Walking through its courtyards and quiet halls grounded me in a way I didn’t expect. The game recreated it well, but being there in person was something else entirely.

Sasau Monastery – the digital version didn't prepare me for the real thing.

Prague surprised me. I thought it would be a good starting point. It turned out to be something more — a city that gave me space to reset, explore, and reconnect with parts of myself I hadn’t seen in a while.

Next stop: Vienna.

More soon.

From Ashes to Airports – The Start of Something New

June was the worst month of my life.

It started with my camera gear getting stolen. Then my house burned down.

In a matter of hours, almost everything I owned was gone. My cameras. My books. My clothes. All the little pieces that made up daily life — turned to ash.

But even in the middle of all that loss, something incredible happened: people showed up.

Friends. Family. Strangers. They rallied around me, and they made sure that one thing I’d been holding onto — the solo Europe trip I’d been planning for months — could still happen.

On the morning I left, my old roommate Andrea texted to say she was stopping by. She showed up with a breakfast burrito from my favorite spot and the kind of emotional support you don’t forget.

Andrea sending me off

Then the travel chaos began. My flight was delayed. I got bumped from first class to economy. My seat wouldn’t recline. And I landed in Amsterdam with only 45 minutes to make a connection that should’ve had a two-hour cushion.

Flight path

Thankfully, customs was waiting for me. They literally pulled me out of the crowd and fast-tracked me so I could sprint to the gate. I was the last person to board the flight to Prague.

While racing through Amsterdam, I still managed to catch this perfect little airport detail:

The First thing i saw in Amsterdam and it made me smile

After landing in Prague, I had grand visions of exploring immediately — but jet lag had other plans. Day one was just me fighting to stay awake until 9 p.m. Still, I caught my first real glimpse of the city.

First look at the castle while taking the train to my hostel

This trip didn’t start the way I planned — but maybe that’s the point. I’m not carrying the life I had before; I’m building something new.

Thanks for following along. More to come.

Failing at Formula E: Capturing the Speed

As a photographer who thrives on the thrill of high-speed action, I've faced my fair share of challenges. Recently, I had the opportunity to shoot the Formula E race at Portland International Raceway, and let me tell you, it was a completely different beast compared to capturing planes. Here's a glimpse into my experience, complete with a few photos from the event.

The Challenge of Being Close to the Action

One major difference between shooting planes and Formula E cars is how close you get to the action. When you're photographing planes, there's usually a considerable distance between you and the aircraft, making it easier to track their movement. But with Formula E cars, you're right up close, and they're zipping past at insane speeds. This makes it way harder to get that perfect shot.

Here's a shot of a Formula E car crossing the finish line. To get this shot, I had to really nail the timing and focus, which was a lot tougher than I expected. I was just a few meters away from the car, and it felt like it was gone in a blink.

Where It All Started

I first tried shooting from a hole in the fence. It gave a cool, framed perspective but man, it was challenging. The cars were moving so fast, and the fence was a big obstacle. It took a lot of trial and error to get anything decent from that spot.

This image shows the small hole in the fence where I started. I thought it would be a neat angle, but it was really tough to get the timing right. I ended up with over 300 pictures of just empty track because I kept missing the cars!

The Finish Line Struggle

After a while, I moved to the finish line to try my luck there. It was definitely a better spot to catch the cars in full view as they zoomed by. But even then, it was a real challenge to get them in focus and in frame at the right moment.

Here's another shot from the finish line. Even here, it was still a struggle. The cars were so fast that I missed the shot more times than I care to admit. The noise of the crowd added to the intensity, making it even harder to concentrate. But when I finally got it right, it felt amazing.

Conclusion

Photographing Formula E cars was a whole new level of challenging. Being so close to the high-speed action, trying to capture the perfect moment, and dealing with the unique perspectives of the track made it an intense but rewarding experience. These images might look cool, but trust me, behind each one, there are probably hundreds of failed attempts. It just shows how fast and thrilling these races are, and how tough it can be to freeze that speed in a photo.

Whether it's planes slicing through the sky or electric cars zipping past on the track, the adrenaline rush of capturing high-speed action is unmatched. Both experiences have taught me valuable lessons in patience, timing, and the joy of nailing that perfect shot. Can't wait to see what new challenges and adventures come next!

Soaring High: My Adventure at the Hillsboro Air Show

Attending the Hillsboro Air Show was a wild ride, packed with unexpected mishaps, new friendships, and stunning photos. From forgetting my memory card to capturing the electrifying F-16 in action, here's how I turned a series of surprises into an unforgettable photography adventure. And here’s a tip: you don’t always need a ticket to get those perfect shots.

Day One: The Great Memory Card Fiasco

The first day kicked off with sky-high excitement as I prepped my camera bag and set off, eager to capture the spectacle. But as soon as I arrived and pulled out my camera, I realized with a jolt – no memory card. That’s right, I had a camera with no way to store photos. Rookie mistake!

Determined not to miss out completely, I embarked on a frantic quest for a memory card. I dashed to three different stores around town, each stop more desperate than the last. Finally, success! With a memory card in hand, I raced back to the show, hoping to salvage the day.

Despite the delay, I managed to capture a few shots before the event wrapped up. The overcast skies provided a dramatic backdrop for the aerobatic displays, and the day's hustle made those few photos feel like hard-won trophies. Just as the show was winding down, the skies opened up with a heavy rain, adding a dramatic flair to the end of my adventure.

Day Two: Meeting Dean and the F-16 Spectacle

Armed with extra memory cards, I returned on day two with clear skies and high hopes. While setting up my gear, I met Dean, a seasoned pro who generously shared his expertise on the best angles and moments to capture.

Thanks to Dean’s guidance, I felt like I had a co-pilot. The highlight of the day was photographing the F-16 Fighting Falcon. This sleek jet, with its roaring engine and incredible speed, was the star of the show. Capturing it in flight was exhilarating. The F-16 sliced through the sky with precision, leaving trails of white vapor against the gray clouds. The dramatic skies provided a perfect contrast to the powerful jet, making for some striking photos.

Dean's tips on positioning and timing paid off, resulting in some of the best shots I’ve ever taken. The F-16's dynamic maneuvers were breathtaking, and capturing its agility against the moody sky was a thrilling experience.

Outside the Box (or Airport): Getting Great Shots Without a Ticket

One of the best parts about my experience was realizing that you don't necessarily need to buy a ticket to see and photograph the air show. Many of my shots, including those of the magnificent F-16, were taken from outside the airport grounds. The planes often perform maneuvers that are visible from surrounding areas, giving you the opportunity to capture incredible images without even entering the venue. So, if you're on a budget or just looking for a different perspective, don't hesitate to set up outside the official boundaries.

Reflections and Takeaways

The Hillsboro Air Show turned out to be an unforgettable experience, filled with unexpected lessons and delightful surprises. Forgetting my memory card on the first day was a comedic misstep, but it made the successful shots of the second day all the more rewarding. Meeting Dean was a lucky break, and his mentorship was invaluable.

For anyone planning to photograph an air show, here are a few light-hearted tips from my adventure:

1. Double-Check Your Gear: Seriously, double-check. And then check again. Spare memory cards are your best friends.

2. Make Friends: Connect with fellow photographers. You never know when a Dean will come along with tips that change everything.

3. Weather the Weather: Be ready for rain or shine. Sometimes the most dramatic photos come from unexpected weather.

4. Know Your Subjects: A little knowledge about the planes can go a long way in anticipating great shots.

5. Enjoy the Ride: Embrace the mishaps and enjoy the experience. Every moment is part of the adventure.

6. Think Outside the Airport: Great shots can be taken from outside the official grounds. Look for vantage points around the perimeter for unique perspectives.

The Hillsboro Air Show was more than just an event; it was a journey of learning, laughing, and capturing the breathtaking beauty of aviation. From the F-16's thrilling maneuvers to the unexpected rain showers, every moment added to the story. I can't wait for next year’s show, ready for new challenges and new stories to tell through my lens.