On my last afternoon in Prague, I walked up Petrin Hill to look out over the red roofs and gold-topped spires of the city aglow in the light of waning sun. As I made my way to the top, I found the views I was searching for and so much more:

It’s amazing how easily you can find calm spaces in crowded summertime Prague. Aside from the Charles Bridge area, it was much quieter on the other side of River Vltava. Just a little way up Petrin Hill I found even more serenity.

Pears and view.

The path less traveled.

Down below, the crowded Charles Bridge.

Broken ornaments decorated the outside of the fantastical Reon Argondian Gallery.

Through some iron gates I came across this garden where a woman was painting the scene.

This garden was pure joy.

 As if the first garden wasn’t amazing enough, around the corner I found another garden full of vibrant roses.

More fantastic views of Prague.

A nice spot for music making.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

When I travel, I want more than to see a place, I want to experience a place. I want to plunge into the local psyche and see what makes it like nowhere else in the world. I’m often amazed how with globalization looming over the world, places can be so different when you get to the heart of them.

It’s easy to scrape the surface of or completely miss the reality of a well-known city. As a travel lover who lives in a popular city to travel to, I notice it all the time. Some come here and get caught up in a quest for an idealized version of a past San Francisco. While San Francisco’s history is obviously important in making it what it is today, you’re not going to find some blissful hippie haven à la 1967 in the Haight. Others will not go beyond the recommended tourist attractions. I understand the bay side appeal of Pier 39, but what’s contained in it has little or nothing to do with what San Francisco is to the people who live here now

To get to the true heart of the city, you have to go beyond what you think you know about it and beyond the tourist recommendations. Why bother? Because your travels will be much richer. Because you’ll open yourself up to serendipitous moments. Because you’ll come home knowing one place much better and therefore know the world a bit better. Just about everything out there has already been discovered by someone else, but the souls of places are always out there waiting to be discovered by you. Here’s how to get started:

» Spend a good amount of time in one city. Spend time away from the tourist center. Stay in or heartily explore more than one neighborhood. Discover the complex layers that make a unique whole.

» Use public transportation. Move around the city with everyday people living their everyday lives.

» Wander through local shopping centers, from open air produce markets to the mall. Sample a fruit you’ve never tried before. Try on a type of clothing you’ve never worn before.

» Check out galleries and look out for street art. Look around you for the local concerns, the current popular aesthetic, and glimpses of where a place might be heading.

» Attend festivals and parades. Celebrate, participate in traditions, get immersed in colorful culture.

» Post up in cafes, parks, plazas, or other gathering places. People watch. Talk to people. Let people talk to you.

» Join people at a popular street food stand or cheap eatery. Stand on the sidewalk or sit on a stool while trying a popular local dish.

» Visit the local bars and clubs. Get loose and interact. Enjoy the local drink.

» Connect with residents to meet up with before you go. Or don’t and make connections along the way. Just try to connect.

» Walk until your feet hurt. Make turns on a whim. Find out where you are by getting lost.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

I took a step away from my typical travel ways when I went to Prague; I showed up with no ideas on what to see and never once glanced at a guidebook. The breakfast banter at my cozy hostel served as an excellent stand in.

In that little kitchen I learned about the city of Kutná Hora, about a two hour train ride away from Prague. Its main point of interest is what a group of French guys referred to as the “Church of Bones”. Intrigued, I followed up with them the morning after their excursion, and they confirmed that it had been worthwhile trip out of Prague. And in that way things fall into place when you travel solo, a fellow solo traveler from South Korea also planned on visiting Kutná Hora that day and invited me to go with her.

After an encounter with a hostile train station ticket agent and a few lost in translation moments, we got on a train to Kutná Hora. When we arrived, we were dropped off in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. I liked it. I have this attraction to being a little lost — it’s where adventure starts to kick in and I develop that true sense of discovery. For that, a trip outside of Prague was worth it.

We eventually found a bus stop and waited and waited in the rain until a local bus came. On this bus we encountered the kindest people who understood that we had no idea where we were going. Despite the language barrier, they made every effort to confirm that we were on the right bus, to not let us get off the bus too soon, and let us know when we arrived at our stop. It was a nice change from the tourist weary locals of Prague, and these pleasant little interactions also made a trip out of the city worth taking.

Then we finally found the “Church of Bones,” officially called the Sedlec Ossuary. It’s a site with a long and unique history. In the late 1200s, a monk from Sedlec traveled to the Israel and brought home dirt from the Holy Land which he sprinkled on the cemetery. As word spread, the Sedlec cemetery became an auspicious place for Central Europeans to be buried. In the 1300s and 1400s, the plague and the Hussite Wars greatly increased the number of burials here. Eventually, the skeletons were exhumed in the 1500s, supposedly by a half-blind monk. In 1870, the well-to-do Schwarzenberg family hired a woodcarver named František Rint to organize the massive amounts of bones. The artistic license he took with arranging the bones is what draws visitors to the tiny town.

Here and there in Prague, I’d gotten glimpses into the darker sensibilities of where I was, and the ossuary in Sedlec fully revealed a macabre aesthetic beneath the mass appeal of the pretty tourist sites. Inside, we entered a chapel that was part catacombs, part installation art:

The artist signed and dated his work in bones.

The Schwarzenburg family coat-of-arms.

There’s more to the Kutná Hora area than the ossuary. Nearby Sedlec, in the actual city of Kutna Hora is the incredible architecture of the Gothic St. Barbara’s Church.

Statues along a walkway at St. Barbara’s Church rival those of the Charles Bridge in Prague.

Overlooking the town of Kutna Hora.

Back at the Kutna Hora train station.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

Coming from the street art and graffiti covered Berlin, Prague had initially seemed wholesome in comparison. My first sighting of anything street art related was a clean up crew painting over a graffitied wall in the Old Town Square.

I get it — Prague’s scenery has so much character already embedded in it. Compared to some other European cities in the region, much more of its historical architecture survived the destruction of World War II. A really visible street art scene would be incongruous there.

What I did find in Prague was a thriving government sanctioned yet often eccentric public art scene. In parks, squares, and along the Vltava river, I spotted fantastic sculpture art that ranged from quirky to perplexing to bizarre:

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

A couple weeks ago, a Facebook friend posed a question about whether she should do a multiple day hike to get to Machu Picchu or take the train to save time. Before I expanded the list of comments, I already knew what to expect based on my own experience with making that decision. My thoughts were correct. The majority of the responses could be summarized like this: “Do the trek so you can leave Peru with no regrets!”

I chimed in as the only person who overtly spoke positively about taking the train, which is how I got to Machu Picchu. It was a great experience for me. I had a fantastic travel buddy for the train ride and exploring Machu Picchu, I got back to Cusco in time to celebrate Peruvian Independence Day, and I followed through on my overall goal which was to spend the larger portion of the trip in Bolivia exploring remote corners of a remote country. I never look back and say, “Man, I wish I’d done the trek to Machu Picchu!” It simply was never important to me. It may be many people’s dream, but it’s not mine.

I think real honest enthusiasm from travelers who hiked the Inca trail sparked the trek-to-Machu Picchu fervor. But the “must do!” hype around it speaks to a larger theme of urgent, consumption-oriented travel. In the end, is it really worth it to obsessively tick off boxes and fixate on one particular popular experience when there are many equally fulfilling alternatives to that?

I certainly have succumbed to this kind of travel. I’ve rushed through places, trying to see as much as was humanly possible in a short period of time, driven by a well-intentioned mentality that life is short and I may never return to those places again. I still value the idea of making the most of your time in a place, but the numbers game doesn’t seem as important as it used to. While I love the experience of seeing so many different things, I’ve found that rushing through the world and ticking off boxes can limit what you truly see in the long run.

Of course, there are exceptions. Sometimes I am in some exceptionally unique far away place for a specific reason (for example, visiting my mom in Namibia over the holidays or going to India for a wedding) and squeeze more into a limited time than I’d like.  But for trips that I come up with, I’ve begun to plan for longer amounts of time in fewer places.

I didn’t expect to encounter so many people who think that is a terrible idea. I often feel like I have to justify my decisions to spend a long time in one spot, return to place I’ve already visited, or to not do a “must-do” experience.

I met a group of guys from Ensenada when I first returned to Oaxaca last summer. They’d stayed in the city for a couple days and then left for more adventures around the state. They came back to Oaxaca city the day before I left to go back to Mexico City. When I saw them again, the first thing one of them said to me was, “Wow, you’re still  here?!”

“Yes,” I replied. “But I’m leaving tomorrow!” As soon as I added that second part, I knew it wasn’t necessary. Sure, I’d missed out on plenty of potential opportunities in Mexico and elsewhere by revisiting the small city of Oaxaca for the second summer in a row. But I left knowing the city even better, having seen nearby places I hadn’t been to on my first visit, and knowing that my passion for it wasn’t a fluke — it’s one of my favorite places in the world.

Sure, I missed a great challenge and amazing scenery by not trekking to Machu Picchu. But in Bolivia, I encountered unexpected challenges in stunning places over and over. I trekked through a swamp in the Amazon, through an ancient fern forest to the top of a mountain, across an island in one of the highest lakes in the world and hardly encountered foreigners other than the ones I was with. I wouldn’t trade any of these experiences for the trek to Machu Picchu.

Life is short and the world can seem overwhelmingly huge for an adventurous spirit. But one of travel’s greatest lessons to embrace is how small you are in comparison to the world. You may not be able to see everything, but you can make the most of what you do see — and making the most of a place is subject to the traveler’s own ideas, not some list created by someone else.

In this world of limitless potential experiences, find out what you really want to explore and do that as much as you can. And remember that regretting what you could not do or didn’t have the time for on your travels is a choice. There is always another option: gratitude for what you did experience.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

When I arrived in Prague, I had a strange sensation that I later identified as “tourist shock”. My mouth hung open as I observed the magnitude of the crowd at Old Town Square for the first time and wondered how the Charles Bridge could withstand the tourist masses. I quickly realized that my perception of “touristy” had been heavily skewed by the kind of places I’ve visited over the last few years. The backpacker-oriented destinations I’ve been to in Asia and Latin America really have nothing on summertime Prague.

While I was surprised, I could also easily see why so many people had flocked to the beautiful and historic city of Prague in the summer sun. I decided to get caught up in the tourist masses for a couple days and enjoyed it. I took a free walking tour with a huge group of people and unabashedly explored the city with my camera hanging from my neck. In the end I found few traps, but ultimately a tourist trail that was worth taking:

The west end of the Charles Bridge.

Underneath the Charles Bridge in Malá Strana, a historic neighborhood on the west bank of the Vltava river.

I’m not sure why, but marionettes are popular in Prague. Tourist shops are full of them.

Old Town Square.

I saw these huge crowds in Old Town Square twice before I found out what they were looking at. I was amused at all these people with their cameras held up high, waiting so intently for something to happen…

… And I was more amused when I later found out that they were look at this, the Prague Astronomical Clock. People get excited about it because every hour, on the hour, it like, does stuff. Some of the features, like the skeleton in the upper right corner, are animated. The clock itself is cool looking and an impressive 600 years old. But apparently, the animation part of it is so underwhelming that it’s earned spots on lists of most overrated attractions in Europe. That doesn’t stop people from wanting to see it for themselves.

A Franz Kafka memorial in the Jewish Quarter.

The Basilica of St. James is full of artistic detail inside and out, but that’s not what its known for. A legend tells us that a man once tried to steal a Virgin Mary statue from the church. But before he could finish his theft, the statue gripped his arm tightly and wouldn’t let go. The only option was to cut off his arm, and what is supposed to be the thief’s severed limb still hangs in the church today.

The Old Jewish Cemetery.

There are so many tombstones because when this cemetery was built, and for quite some time thereafter, Jews were discriminated against and given very limited space in Prague. This led to graves being layered on top of other graves, as many as twelve deep.

One of Prague’s most famous buildings, often referred to as the “Dancing House”. I wanted to like this building, but seeing it in person, in the context of the rest of the city, I just couldn’t

It’s clear that Prague is a city that focuses on tourism. These cleanup crews with extra large vacuum cleaners were everywhere the tourists were.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

Understanding the popularity of Prague took only a matter of moments as I set out see the city on my first full day there. With all of its fanciful buildings and bridges, I felt like I’d entered a fairytale land — the kind of place you see in a movie, but you don’t think actually exists.

Whether I was in a touristy part of town or on an obscure side street, in all directions there were always wonderful aesthetic touches to capture in Prague — a great use of color, architectural details, flowers, and many gold-topped spires:

A statue of John of Nepomuk on the Charles Bridge.

Ornamental iron work on the side of a building.

Colorful buildings.

Park benches.

Blooming flowers surround the Jan Hus Memorial in Old Town Square.

The spires of Tyn Church in Old Town Square.

Detail on a building in the Jewish Quarter.

Detail on the Basilica of St. James.

Ornate buildings.

A sculpture at the Old Jewish Cemetery.

Old architecture reflected on a rare modern building.

A bit of Prague architecture embedded on the base of a lamp post.

The detail on this building was unreal.

An ornate lamp post on the Legii Bridge.

The spires of St. Nicolas Church.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

While hosteling in Berlin, I quickly realized that even if you sit out the Saturday night partying, the party will eventually make its way to you. That was especially true in the nightlife heavy neighborhood of Friedrichshain I stayed in at the beginning of my trip.

In my hostel dorm room, there was a lively Minnesotan who occupied the bunk above me. When he arrived, he’d shared his story of forgetting his passport on a plane, subsequently being thrown into jail in Spain, and getting deported to Ireland where he applied for a temporary passport and waited to rejoin his travel partners in the next country on their itinerary. This experience led him to get a large and poorly done tattoo on his side that said, “Live Free Or Die.” I could tell he was the kind of person that had a knack for hurtling himself into ridiculous situations.

That night, I saw him enjoying more than enough drinks at the hostel bar. Later, I was shocked to see that he’d made it back to the room intact with all of his belongings. He even had his phone with him. Everyone in the room knew this because as he slept deeply, his phone alarm kept going off in the wee hours of the morning and he didn’t hear it. Finally, one of my Aussie roommates took matters into her own hands. She climbed up, found his phone and turned it off for him.

The sun rose early that Sunday morning and the most brilliant sunshine I’d experienced in Berlin thus far made its way through gaps in the curtains. In addition to the Midwesterner’s alarm, beyond the window I’d been hearing curious sounds. There’d be several minutes of techno music and cheering, then it would stop for a bit, then it would start again. This went on all morning.

After checking out of the hostel and making my way to a public transit station, I discovered the source of what I’d been hearing. There were about a dozen people with a stereo system on cart, partying in the station. There was also a whole police force trying to get them to turn off their music and leave. They’d turn off the music for a little bit, then run away from the cops and start the music again. Eventually the police gave up and left. The group cheered and finally, they could continue their party uninterrupted.

With the help of those timid cops, I made it to the right public transit station and with the help of other backpackers, I took the right train to the Berlin Central Station. As much as I’ve traveled solo, foreign train stations still often revert me back to a nervous rookie traveler. I blame this on growing up in car-centric American suburbs. Once I arrived at the Berlin Central Station, I could not figure out what the signs meant, nor could I understand the information on my ticket. I’m not sure how, but I made it to my train just in time. Never mind that I’d entered on the far end and had to walk through several cars before I reached my car, I was on the train and on my way.

To my surprise, the seating process was thoroughly chaotic. Some people like me had paid a couple extra Euros to reserve a seat. Others bought a ticket or booked a trip with a Eurail pass without being assigned a specific seat. When I finally made it to the correct car, the seating mayhem had caused a traffic jam.

When I got to my seat, it was being occupied by a hippie-hipster from Scandinavia. He got out of my seat with no problem, but he and his body odor-heavy trio of friends had many arguments before finding seats that weren’t taken. Things finally began to settle down as the seatless found seats and suitcases and backpacks were jammed into every available corner of the train car. It quieted down further as the hungover denizens put in their earbuds and fell asleep.

And southward we went out of the city and into fields of sunflowers. You have no idea how badly I want to hop off the train and run through them. I drifted in and out of sleep through southeastern Germany — the quaint countryside, Dresden, beautiful waterways, and forested hillsides. Eventually, I opened my eyes to see more rustic looking homes and signs in new language. We’d crossed the border into the Czech Republic.

Prague was a “Why not?” addition to my itinerary. To be honest, the cultures of Central and Eastern Europe don’t entice me in the same way that cultures of desert and tropical locations do. But I had a decent amount of time to spend in Berlin, and Prague seemed like a good option for a side trip.

After crossing the border, I found myself more excited than I’d expected to be. I found myself intrigued by signs written in a completely unrecognizable language and by the fact that I was entering a place I didn’t know much about. I hopped off the train feeling very ready to explore.

I visited the ATM to take out some Czech crowns, the local currency. Outside the station, the taxi drivers immediately got a whiff of fresh tourist and presented me with some laughable rip off offers. When I told them I planned on taking public transport, they shook their heads and very convincingly said that was an outrageous idea as the walk to the trolley I was taking was just too long.

For a split second, I almost believed them, but then I regained my wits and followed the detailed directions that were emailed to me by the hostel I’d booked. It turned out to be a short walk across a park to the street car stop. The trolleys were very clearly marked and when I got on the one I was waiting for, locals gave me friendly smiles as lugged my backpack on board. It was a quick ride to my stop and from there, it was just a couple blocks to the hostel. So simple.

I rang the buzzer and entered the Art Hole Hostel which is housed in an old building. The crafty and cozy interior was a welcome change from the sober and spacious “Industrial Palace” I’d stayed at in Berlin. The Slovakian receptionist was incredibly friendly and in short period of time I had many suggestions on where to eat, what to do, and where to go for the best views of the city.

The front desk and some of the hostel dorms were located on the first floor of the building, and my dorm room was on the third floor. As we walked up the stairs, the receptionist explained that the second floor was occupied by the Embassy of Congo, which I thought was an entertaining addition to the quirkiness of the space.

I settled in and went to dinner at Lokal, one of the recommended spots for Czech food. Aside from the smoking inside, the restaurant’s modern and creative atmosphere combined with the emphasis on slow food and local ingredients made me feel like I could’ve been in San Francisco.

While the setting was great, food in this part of the world isn’t exactly the most flavorful. For me, the meal was a bit of a wah-wah. But sometimes in this city, what you’re washing the food down with is more of a focal point than the food. And in Prague, a mug of fresh Czech beer can almost make up for the cuisine.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

The cloud infused evening sunlight gives the city a golden glow and the gracefulness of dusk prophesizes the night’s mood. I walk across the Oberbaum Bridge from Friedrichshain to Kreuzberg where huge murals by Blu welcome me to the neighborhood.

This is my first time crossing into what used to be the former West Berlin. It has an appearance that is slightly more what I would have expected of a German city, except with more accents of grittiness. Architecture is important in this city. Even if you loose track of the Berlin Wall, the look of the buildings around you can often tell you where it once was.

I walk the streets of a lively part of the neighborhood in search of a place to have dinner. I see a small Vietnamese restaurant that looks promising. The waitress wants to know if I mind sitting indoors. All of the tables outside are taken as people are enjoying the lingering hours of summer sunshine after all that rain. Inside the restaurant, the windows are wide, candles are lit, and they are playing music by Nina Simone. I tell her I don’t mind sitting inside.

I enjoy the solitude and the promise of more compelling places to explore. I like the way the restaurant is illuminated by evening sun and candlelight. I have a delicious bowl of soup and a glass of wine. I have a good book to read. And I’m listening to Nina Simone sing the blues in her raw, masterful way that transforms bitter to sweet.

On this night, the little things have combined so perfectly and I’m indulging in it fully. Right now I exist only in this simple, perfect moment.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.

I spent much of my time in Friedrichshain exploring the neighborhood on foot, often ditching my map to make random turns on a whim. Though Friedrichshain eventually became one of my favorite neighborhoods in Berlin, at first glance, it had seemed somewhat stiff and colorless. The unexpected summer chill and intense sideways rain that left broken umbrellas strewn about the sidewalks didn’t exactly help either. But the weather turned and my sunny day walks eventually revealed a neighborhood that holds an abundance of charming surprises:

I loved the Berlin appreciation for flowers and the flower shops were everywhere in the summertime.

A wall covered in graffiti, mostly wheat pastes and stencils. There will definitely be more photos of this wall to come.

Friedrichshain has a charming liberal and outspoken vibe.

A garden shop.

Decorative faux taxidermy in a shop full of quirky items.

The weather in Berlin is not so great, but people really make the most of it when it is nice.

An indoor market spills on to the sidewalk.

A building’s reflection in a puddle left from the previous day’s storms.

A fallen tree.

A great building near Friedrichshain’s main park and not far from the Karl-Marx-Allee. It had all of the boxiness of the buildings of that street, but a touch of color, a bit more flair, and the standalone nature of it made it much more stunning.

A gorgeous cemetery.

Such a beautiful way to honor those who’ve passed on.

The East Side Gallery murals that were repainted were covered with anti-graffiti coating. On the backside of the wall, however, people have plenty of space to leave their mark on Berlin.

Biking is a big thing in Berlin.

A view of the Spree River from the Oberbaum Bridge.

The Oberbaum Bridge unites Friedrichshain (part of the former East Berlin) and Kreuzberg (part of the former West Berlin). After the Berlin Wall went up, the bridge was used as a crossing for West Berliners only.

A cloudy sunset over the Spree River. On the far right is one of the city’s most iconic symbols, the Fernsehturm (TV Tower) Berlin.

A nice long summer evening in Berlin.

©2012 Girl, Unstoppable. All Rights Reserved.