days 122–137—you’re up

I always return from Europe a little lighter. Physically, yes, but also in the ways that matter most. This trip was no different.

We spent fifteen days exploring five cities. And no, we didn’t take the van with us—so this post is a little out of the norm (and a bit longer than most).

Denver > Budapest

Flying has become routine, but the thrill of floating above the clouds or catching the curve of a coastline below never loses its novelty. A bird’s-eye view is one hell of a view.

We flew from Denver to Budapest, en route to Helsinki to celebrate Pauli and Izzie’s second wedding.

With less than a day to explore, we wandered the river’s edge in Pest, where austere Communist-era blocks leaned against the elegance of Art Nouveau facades.

Red Ruin, a cheeky communist-themed pub glowing in dim red light, topped off our brief dip into the Paris of the East. But we’d be back—soon.

Budapest > Helsinki > Tallinn

Our evening flight to Helsinki landed near midnight, the sky still glowing with soft gold. Jet lag hit hard, but the promise of new places kept us energized.

Just hours later, we greeted Jack and Monika in the hotel lobby before crossing the Baltic Sea on a ferry as large as a cruise ship. Two hours later, we arrived in Tallinn, Estonia, where we wandered the cobbled streets of Old Town, peeked inside Saint Olaf’s Church, climbed Hellemann Tower, and fell into an unofficial coffee-and-beer tour. More coffee than beer.

The highlight? Headless Chicken, a tiny basement bar lit by candlelight and crowned with a chandelier shaped like the One Ring from The Lord of the Rings. I think Trent and Jack would have stayed there if we had let them.

We closed the day with simple card games and listening to locals unapologetically belt Karaoke aboard the ferry. Once we returned, we welcomed the rest of the crew to Helsinki.

The next day, Pauli gave us a local’s tour via private trolley, ending in a traditional Finnish lunch. That evening, wedding festivities officially began with a welcome reception at Hietalahti Market Hall.

The wedding itself coincided with Helsinki’s Pride Parade, thereby infusing even more color and joy into an already beautiful day. After a traditional Catholic ceremony, we boarded a boat to Uunisaari Island to celebrate beneath the midnight sun.

We bid farewell to Finland by recovering at Allas Sea Pool, alternating between saunas and chilly Baltic dips. It felt like the perfect window into the rhythms of where Pauli grew up.

Helsinki > Stockholm

From the city center, we took the train into Gamla Stan (Old Town) to explore. Our first stop was Akkurat, boasting one of Stockholm’s renowned beer and whisky collections. We then moved on to Michelangelo’s, where we were briefly transported to Italy with its ambiance and handmade pastas.

The next morning, we saw the city by sea, tracing its preserved architecture and learning how WWII’s indirect touch left it largely intact. By land, we dove into Sweden’s cultural gems: a deep dive into ABBA nostalgia and a glimpse of the Vasa, a 17th-century warship that famously sank within 20 minutes of its maiden voyage and now stands frozen in time, perfectly preserved.

Of course, we couldn’t ignore Pauli’s childhood dreams of going to Grona Lund, Stockholm’s classic amusement park. While thrill levels varied, we all braved a couple coasters and the giant swing—400 feet in the air, 360-degree golden hues.

To cap the near-perfect day, we enjoyed a Viking feast of roasted meats and root vegetables at Aifur Krog & Bar. Over generous pours of mead, we toasted the week and promised more adventures to come before parting ways.

Stockholm > Prague

We began in Lesser Town, guided by our friend Donny, whose time in Prague gave our visit depth from the start. The first stop was the iconic Charles Bridge, its cobbled path flanked by 30 baroque statues, with each one whispering tales from Czech history and Christian tradition.

At the end of Mostecká Street, the towering dome of St. Nicholas Church rose with similar baroque grandeur. Though the lines kept us from stepping inside, we paused at the threshold, struck by its vaulted ceilings and gilded altars.

As we followed Karmelitská Street, my admiration for Prague’s layered architecture deepened. Crossing the Vítězná Bridge, we stepped onto Střelecký Island (Shooters Island), where couples lounged while children played, and pedal boats dotted the Vltava.

From the bridge’s height, we glimpsed the gold crown of Národní divadlo (National Theatre), a neo-Renaissance jewel perched beside the river. I wished we’d had time to see a performance, but as with all good things, it’s best to leave something for next time.

Later, we browsed the shelves of Globe Bookstore, then had a quiet recharge at U Sudu. A detour to Wenceslas Square led to an unexpected highlight: the Pilsner Urquell Experience. We dove into Czech brewing traditions and learned why locals treasure the foam. It locks in the flavor, they claim.

Now well-versed in the art of Czech beer, we strolled through Old Town Square, briefly stopping to admire the Astronomical Clock before the crowds nudged us on.

We returned to Lesser Town, searching for a taste of chimney cake, a sweet, spiraled pastry known locally as trdelník, often filled with ice cream and served warm.

The backstreets took us by splendor while the city stretched itself awake. We slipped across the narrow Čertovka Canal—Prague’s version of Venice—and wound through Kampa Park, lingering among the paint-thick messages along the Lennon Wall.

After breakfast at Bohemian Bistro, we climbed toward Prague Castle. From its heights, rooftops fanned out in red, the river cut calmly below. Inside the complex, St. Vitus Cathedral shone with stained glass and Gothic arches.

Lunch brought us across the river to U Fleků, Prague’s oldest brewery, pouring dark lager since 1499. Communal wooden tables, echoing accordion music, and beer that arrived before we could ask. Rich, malty, and smoother than expected. And their pork schnitzel? Comfort on a plate.

Craving one last overlook, we climbed to Letná Park. Beneath the ticking of the giant Metronome, the city peeled back its several layers, fully exposed. Timeless.

On our last day in Prague, we surrendered to the pedal boats, gliding across the river, soaking in our last views of the city’s iconic bridges.

Prague > Budapest (Again)

Back in Budapest for the finale, we had two unhurried days.

From our riverfront hotel, we crossed the Chain Bridge into Buda and took the funicular to Castle Hill. Though much of the castle grounds were under restoration, the charm endured as we walked the stone paths, echoes of former grandeur and irrefutable scars still lingering.

From there, the streets wound toward the neo-Gothic spires of Fisherman’s Bastion, where seven turreted towers stood like sentinels along the hill’s edge. Through arched windows between ivory columns, the Pest skyline etched a perfect contrast against the sky.

As twilight draped the Danube, we boarded a candlelit dinner cruise. Each bridge shimmered in light, like strings of pearls dipping into the water, the Parliament glowing like the crown.

Beyond the icons, we passed Margaret Island, its shoreline dotted with runners chasing the lingering light, and The Whale, a sleek glass structure jutting out from the past like a declaration of modernity.

Our final day brought us to Nagy Vásárcsarnok (Great Market Hall) hunting for local treasures. Later, we slipped into the mineral-rich pools of Gellért Baths.

We ended where we began—by the river—walking with no agenda, one last ice cream cone in hand, carrying less than we started with.