Finding Peace In Touristland

I recently returned from a 23-day trip through Europe with my girlfriend. At times, it was downright hectic; we visited 8 cities, only stopping for a few days in each, and sometimes dividing our time between two accommodations in the same city. Those accommodations were on the cheap side, with hostels and AirBnB stays mixed in with budget hotels. On top of that, the places we went to were hardly off the beaten path: Berlin, Prague, Munich, Paris, Barcelona, Cannes, Florence and Rome, in that order. Admittedly, had I gone alone, I would have done things a bit differently, but you have to make compromises when you're in a relationship, right? With so much moving around and so many sites to see, we found very little time to slow down. This made me supremely grateful to find a few spots along our route that embodied pure bliss. I'd like to share some with you now.

Soviet War Memorial, Berlin

Secluded within the large Treptower Park of former East Berlin, the huge Soviet War Memorial is well out of the way of most tourist routes. If you're staying in Kreuzberg, it is within walking distance, but admittedly at the very edge of that. Walled in by a thick perimeter of trees, there is no undesired ambiance here. The statues, reliefs and architecture tell a story with grandeur and magnificence, but there is something else going on that makes this such an awesome visit. Museums, galleries and gardens try very hard to obtain the same sense of stillness, but I've never felt it like I did here. "I feel so peaceful here," I said to my girlfriend, "I could stay here forever." The brevity of our visit made this an almost tragic moment, as I could imagine myself sitting for hours, dreaming and writing. Alas, the rain began and hurried us off back to our busy adventure.

Mar Bella, Barcelona

As soon as we confirmed that we were going to visit Barcelona, I looked up the beaches to see if they were any good. One pulsed like a soul beacon, tugging me chest-first in rag doll fashion toward the promise of serenity. Mar Bella is Barcelona's nude beach. To most, this conjures the image of leather-skinned octogenarians with genitals like grotesque door knockers, but one detail reassured me that this would be different: there is a young crowd at this one. Despite only being in Barcelona for three days, I was adamant about relaxing at the beach for two of them and I am so happy that I did. I would not say that I am a naturist or nudist, but I often feel like the societal requirement of clothing is stifling. To feel the sun, the breeze and the eyes of a few girls that weren't my girlfriend on me was nurturing. I won't deny the sexual undertones that we Americans drag with us when we visit a place where nudity is commonplace, but the place was full of wandering eyes, creating a fun tension that was there when you wanted it, but simple to ignore when you closed your eyes and let the warmth envelope you.

Galleria dell'Accademia, Florence

Everyone has their own opinion of art, and I consider myself hard to please. The Galleria dell'Accademia in Florence is famous for currently housing Michelangelo's David, but, like the Mona Lisa, its reputation precedes it and while it is a beautiful sculpture, it is no more amazing in person than any of the many other statues in this gallery. Rather, the one piece of art here that struck me the most, the work that still nags at me weeks after my visit, was the one that didn't exist anymore. The gallery's Lorenzo Bartolini exhibit is a must-see for any fan of sculpture. I spent a good amount of time admiring each one for the detail, but my emotions were not stirred until I saw the picture on the wall of one piece that had deteriorated long ago. Bartolini's sculpture of the soldier Pyrrhus throwing the child Astyanax from the walls of Troy while the mother looks on helplessly now only exists in sketches and period photographs. The dehumanizing fashion in which Pyrrhus is flinging Astyanax amplifies the tragedy, while the absence of the piece itself creates a saddening void. In a corner of the crowded room, occupied by nothing to attract the roaming tourists, I felt like I had experienced something very private and profound.