14 January, 2014


Paris got a post, and London deserves one, too. Even though it's been more than a week since I walked those streets, it's better late than never.

While London has never been a city of my dreams, I was curious to see what it's like, especially as quite a few of my friends been mesmerised by the place. I'm not going to lie: I'm not one of them. I neither loved nor hated London. But I do feel that a day couldn't do it justice and I'm looking forward to a longer visit. Also, even after a day, I imagine I'd like living there at least briefly, and it would be a totally different experience to simply being a tourist.

Overall, I'd say that London reminded me of Glasgow quite a lot. At times it just felt as simply a bigger, more beautiful (can't really argue with that, as much as I love Glasgow), and posher version of it.

I did have a moment though, when my opinion on the city changed from "meh" to "this is actually nice". And it wasn't some major tourist attraction that did it, even though I visited quite a few of them, no. I was just having lunch in Piccadilly Pret, and watching people pass by through the window. As always, creating stories in my head about where they're coming from and where they're going, who they are and what they believe to be important in their lives.

One of my favourite places must have actually been... a bookshop. I wanted to buy a book for A, and went to Waterstones in Piccadilly, which, from what I've read now, is the largest bookshop in Europe. Anyone who adores books as much as I do would understand the feeling that takes over when you're there, surrounded by thousands of them. I wanted to never leave, and, of course, was too tempted to not get anything for myself.

I also loved the National Gallery, even though I've only seen about a half of their collection. Van Gogh, Monet, Turner, Renoir, Degas... It was brilliant, and somehow I even enjoyed it better than the Louvre back in Paris (though this might be thanks to the fact I wasn't nearly as tired, knew what I wanted to see instead of just wandering around, and the whole collection wasn't as overwhelming).

I didn't like the British Museum nearly as much, sadly. While I can appreciate how all these exhibits showcase human history and culture, half an hour in, I was nothing but bored. Guess you can't just like all the places...

Next time I'm in London, it will be different. I've now seen it from the London Eye (which is as touristy as it gets... and not worth it, at all), visited King's Cross just for the Platform 9¾ (and although I grew up with the Harry Potter books, wasn't too impressed), and will be able to enjoy more earthy activities... or just pay a visit to the Tate.

01 January, 2014

Welcome to 2014

And so it went, 2013. One spectacular year, full of joy, discoveries about myself, and life lessons. One that could definitely go onto the list of the best years in my life.

Last year, somewhere in between watching more than 120 films, listening to more than 320 hours of music (and that's not counting all the music I hear live!), and reading a number of books that I don't want to admit, I learnt what living independently means. It was a year of relationships: I had started – and ended – my first serious one, and am happy in one now. And one of elections: two lost, two won. It saw me finding a job I like, even if I'm simply making sandwiches. I came back to Lithuania for the first time after leaving for Scotland – and the second now, too. I visited the Highlands briefly, and Paris. I finished the first and started the second year of university, and started learning French (even if not very successfully yet). I moved from halls into a flat where we live with two friends. I met a boy that's one of my best friends now. I lost my grandfather. And while these come in no chronological order, they were all important. They created the year as it was.

2014? Last night, when a friend of mine called to wish me a happy New Year, he asked what my one resolution would be for it, and I said I'd like to travel more. It's not only that though. I want to laugh more. And study more. Get better at budgeting and time planning, even if the latter requires some sacrifices. I want to spend more time with certain friends of mine. And go out and have fun more often, too, because when you work hard, you're allowed to party hard. Basically, I'll enjoy life more, that's all there is to it. Less drama and worrying, more positive experiences. Hopefully, that's not too much to ask from myself this coming year. Here's to a fantastic one.

29 December, 2013


It's been ages since I last wrote and I can't even promise I'll be back on posting regularly. But I surely miss writing, it has always had a therapeutic effect on me. One I need at the moment.

It's incredible thinking that only a week ago, I was in Paris. Yes! I finally made it happen. Because when you really want to achieve something, you can. Dreams come true, not thanks to some supernatural powers, but your own will and hard work.

Having climbed Arc de Triomphe and the Tour Eiffel, been inside the Sacré-Cœur and Notre-Dame, seen art in the Musée d'Orsay and the Louvre, and walked a countless number of streets, I can confirm that Paris is one magical place, a spectacular city and anything you want it to be. I've fallen in love with it before even visiting, and now I'm head over heels. Admittedly, I'm not sure if I want it to be my final destination, but definitely one of the stops in the journey of life. A plan I have thought of is simple – leaving Glasgow for London, and after a year or two going off to Paris. For three years or so. We'll see.

The first word that comes to my mind when I think of Paris is... space. Not only because it's huge, but the streets (well, some of them) are wide and the sky seems endless. As if there were no limits whatsoever, and not only in regards to the city, but to life in general. You can do anything. Who wouldn't like such a feeling? I do for sure. Can only imagine what it's like being there all the time, walking these streets day to day.

I might not have tasted the perfect French café au lait while watching people passing by. But I have still experienced Paris in my very own way, by myself, constantly thinking and rethinking all sorts of matters. There's no one right way to travel, of that I'm certain.

My individualism wasn't entire though. If it wasn't for the smiles and laugh shared with some fellow travellers, the trip wouldn't have been nearly as amazing. The man in front of me on the train from Glasgow to London: him getting off earlier, leaving me a chocolate Santa and wishing a merry Christmas. The boy on the bus from London to Paris who has never seen snow: us walking around the Eurotunnel, listening to music and playing dots&boxes (I lost). The girl I met in the lovely hostel I was staying at: us walking to the Sacré-Cœur and then towards the Louvre together. The boy I met in the hostel (once again): him saving me from starving and us having a great evening together with other people from all over the place. The woman I met in the bus stop: her talking to me in a mix of French and English, and us finding a roof over our heads that was needed for a few hours in the form of the reception of a four-star hotel.

All the goodbyes felt rushed and sad; I get attached to people awfully easily and it's strange thinking I'll most likely never see any of them again. In this case of course, I also simply didn't want to leave, even though I knew I have friends waiting to see me back home. The good thing is, I'll come back. Don't know when, but I have no doubts about it.