The end

I made it back to London carrying-on my gigantic backpack just in time to meet the four English boys for some drinks and a night out. With a few ciders and more techno than I could appreciate, we played pool throughout the evening before heading back to the house for wine, Swiss chocolate and some reminiscing about their time in the States (07-08) and my experiences traveling and in Italy.

On Monday I hopped on a plane that in the course of 16 hours had me back to the west coast. I turned my cell phone on to receive a series of messages regarding my account, and a few well-planned texts welcoming me home. I can't believe I'm back.

Looking back on my trip, I couldn't be more happy with my experiences. I had a great time traveling during the first portion, getting that classic American college grad western Europe sightseeing tour out of the way. But by far my time on the farms are what made the trip exactly what I wanted and meant the most to me.

This entire trip was meant to be two things for me. First, it was to re-acquaint me with old friends abroad and Second it was to be a period of time to relax, refocus and recenter before starting the next stage of my life.

I'm spending two weeks in Reno (until the 10th) before I go back to San Diego, where I'm giving myself one month to find a decent job and two months to find a serious job (as in one that is career focused/what I actually want to do with my life). I'm fortunate to have some friends who are willing to pull out their sofa beds for me during that time as I definitely have no income, home, or car and very minimal savings after this trip.

As for jobs, I've been doing lots of research of companies and organizations that I'm interested in since I arrived back to the States. Applying to jobs is a time consuming process!! I adjust my resume quite a bit between each job so as to highlight my more relevant experience and adjust my letter of application and it takes forever!!

If you'd like to follow my life since Europe and all of my future blogs, check out stephusry.blogspot.com. (I promise I won't make you subscribe to anything else!)
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Some things about Italy

Over my 1.5 months in Italy, I recognized again and again similarities that appeared throughout the country. I share them here.

1. The people are extraordinary friendly (but most don't speak English)
2. Nothing and no one is on time. Buses, rides, everything runs late (today's bus was 30 minutes behind schedule).
3. The food is spectacular, and the gelato. But this applies to food cooked at Italian homes, not restaurants. Particularly I've liked the spinach tortellini.
4. The mosquitoes in the countryside are evil and torture those of us not used to them. I'm allergic to their bites so they last for days and when they go away they leave bruises!
5. Good words to know are Dove (where) and subsequently a sinistra and a destra (left and right) so you can then follow the directions they give.
6. There is always a main street named Via Roma in every city.
7. You must put the toilet seats down each time you use the toilet because they raise themselves automatically and stay up. (Talk about a culture in which the masculine is the standard!)
8. The headline of today's regional paper exclaimed that a child swallowed a torch and they are now afraid he will have to undergo a long operation (reading newspapers to work on my Italian)
9. Italy is Very hot in August. And humid. And it's crowded because all of Europe is on holiday this month. Choose a different month if you visit here.
10. It is not okay to put your feet on the seat of a train if you have shoes on. If you take them off and then put your bare feet up that is okay. Old people in particular have no problem wiggling their finger at you in disaprovement if you don't obey this unwritten rule.
11. Don't buy pasta dishes at restaurants (particularly in Rome). Find a local to invite you for their mothers cooking if you want delicious, extraordinary Italian food. Otherwise go find a pizza place that charges by the weight of the slice for the best food and best prices.
12. "Di" is the term used to get your attention, or to express frustration/anger/give a lecture to a small child.

I'm sure there's more, but at this point these are of the most importance.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

24 Hours of Interlaken

For some reason I really wanted to visit Switzerland during this Europe trip and due to other travels it just didn't make it onto the list. But with 3 rides left on my Eurail pass and the knowledge that the country wasn't too far away, my friend Tom looked up what cities were good to visit and I made a reservation for the train from Milan.

I was very sad to leave La Vecchia Posta, and I will admit that a few tears fell when I said my goodbyes this morning (and I wasn't the only one). But when else in life will I have a chance to hop over to Switzerland for a short weekend?

The train ride from Milan gave me a hint that the weather was going to be less than ideal during my time in Switzerland as grey clouds hung around the mountain peaks and rain lightly pattered on the windows. I've definitely been rained on here more than even in Ireland (more in that it's more consistent and heavy rain than Ireland had) But the sights are fantastic! Waterfalls amongst jagged cliff walls, lakes after every other tunnel. And mountains jutting up in every direction.

I could tell when we had crossed the Italian/Swiss border due simply to the fact that the houses changed from the yellow/orange Italian style villas to the idyllic image of a Swiss cottage. Wooden paneling outlining squares of white for the walls, a sloped roof, and always green shutters opening the windows to the world.

Interlaken is in between two great and gorgeous lakes named Thunersee and Brienzersee. The town is known as the extreme/adventure sport capital of Europe and many of the guidebooks one can find talk of skydiving, canyoning, and bungee jumping.

I stayed in a lovely B&B called the Rugenbacher, run by a man, woman, and their dog. I don't know what I would have done with my time in the city without their advice. From the moment I walked in the door of the office Ursula made me feel at home with a nice cup of tea and then started to rattle off all of the priority spots to see...in 24 hours.

Right off the bat she sent me running to catch a boat that would take me across one of the lakes, stopping off at various little towns and providing a great spot to see some amazing views, I stalled a minute to search for my camera and then ran 2 blocks to catch the boat. On board though I realized something...my camera was nowhere to be found though I had thought I saw it in my purse. Definitely not good. On board the boat I focused on the amazing views, I even bared sitting in the chilly rain for about 45 minutes so I could see up to the tops of the mountains. Breathtaking.

I noticed that the boats half way point was the station was where my train began that I lost the camera on. (I remember distinctly that I took it out for a picture from Spiez to Interlaken) The station was about a 25 minute walk from the ferry dock, but I enjoyed the walk (even if it was raining). I got to the office and inquired about a camera, figured out the train I was on, and found out that my best bet would be to fill out a loss form online. So I road the train back and stopped at my hotel to get recommendations for dinner.

Swiss food. Definitely. Ursula sent me to the Baron, a traditional Swiss restaurant where, I found out on arrival, their local specialty is horse. I definitely couldn't do that, so I ended up with a local sausage and some delicious hashbrowns (a Swiss specialty, found in almost every meal). Ooo it was delicious and warm and the service was so wonderful and friendly! And Swiss beer is delicious (it didn't have a name on the menu, just beir).

The next morning I got up early and went down for breakfast. There I got talking with the other owner, Chris. Originally from Virginia, he came to Switzerland about 20 years ago and 2 days before he was set to return to the States he tore up his ticket. For the first 10 years he would spend six months working (usually doing dishes at a local ski resort) making $16/hour, for the last 6 months of the year he'd go traveling with his savings. What a life! About 7 years ago he settled down with Ursula and the B&B, promising himself he'd stay settled for 10 years before jetting off again. His brother is a professional glassblower in San Francisco. He had great stories.

Then I hopped on a train, then bus, to go visit the Trummelbach Falls. A series of 10 glacial waterfalls inside the mountain. It was pretty spectacular. Just imagine the amount of noise that you'd be surrounded by in a cave with 10 gigantic waterfalls crashing down around you. It was spectacular! I made friends with a few Australians here to hanglide (but were grounded due to rain and so being tourists) and battled my way through a gigantic flock of Indian tourists to stand near the edge of a few of the falls. Fortunately I was the only one to think to take the stairs back down after about an hour inside the caves, so I was on my own to see the lower 4 falls, one of which was the "corkscrew", so cool!

When I got back to town I had about an hour before I had to catch another train, so I went souvenier shopping at the local specialty chocolate shop. I'm sooo glad they let you have tasters before buying!

So with chocolate in my belly sufficing as lunch I'm on the way to Milan where I'll fly to London for a night with the English boys (Matt, Tom, Ed, Phil) before flying back to the US Monday!

Life at la Vecchia

I don't know that I could have come to a more peaceful and perfect place for the last three weeks. Atop our hill in Avolasca I am with my head as if in the clouds. Anywhere I look outside of my quaint apartment I see rolling green hills speckled with vineyards and other square plots of farmland that have been tilled or are ripe with their produce.

The most constant sound is the bi-hourly tolling of the belltower, and if you're in the right place you can hear the echo from the other hilltop village belltowers as well. Since we harvested the first round of grapes, the sound of the wine cooler is another constant outside of my kitchen window, reminding me of the intensive process that our delicately picked grapes are now undergoing to become the delicious Rebelot, Merlot, Pinot Noir, and Barbara wines that we enjoy at each meal.

Many hours of my days are spent on my own, doing some task such as picking tomatoes, basil, or zucchini. I have soooo much time to think and mull over my life so far and what is to come. Even when working in the vineyard picking grapes I have lots of time to think, sometimes I will engage in a conversation with Lisa, my German friend, but often even working with ten people around the Italian being spoken is so quickly I can't follow it and so I am more or less with my own thoughts anyway.

And while it sounds lonely (and yes sometimes it is) I'm completely 100% happy at every moment. I'd rather come WWOOF for my holidays in the future than go lye on a beach somewhere. I'm getting a tan, eating amazing food, and relaxing because I don't have any real responsibility. I simply wake up when I do in the morning, eventually someone in the family summons me to tell me what I'm doing for the day, and I work away. Often the work is physically challenging, to pick grapes you have to be bent over, you get all scratched up by the vines when you reach in for a bundle of grapes, spiders and wasps are abundant and happy to bite, and the Italian sunshine is beating down on you. If I had to do this work I might mind, but that I'm choosing to do it and am learning about the entire process through doing it I am completely happy to work long hours without pay.

The family that is hosting me is wonderful as well. Annime is originally from Belgium but she came to Italy over 20 years ago and never left. Roberto is originally from here and is the one who convinced Anime to stay. They have a big and diverse farm, bed and breakfast, and restaurant (only open on weekends). They farm grapes, apples, peaches, more apples, pears, and they have a garden which produces all the vegetables and herbs that Annime uses in the restaurant throughout the year.

September is the busy harvesting month here, so the restaurant has been closed and Annime spends most of her time preparing the pasta sauces, jams, herbs, desserts and vegetables that will be used while Roberto oversees the farm and the winemaking.

Winemaking is cool by the way. And it's also not nearly as glamorous as one would think. But I like it, it involves a whole detailed and calculating plan that revolves around more external circumstances than is nice for it to be executed properly. I've learned about the whole series of steps used to make most of the wines they do here. From how to cut, to getting the grapes off of the vines (with a nifty machine) to spending hours transferring the juice away from the peel so some special enzymes can do their work before we transfer the juice back in to mix with the peels again, deepening the color of the red wine. Its a fascinating process and there are so many little steps that can be done in so many minimally different ways that effect the final outcome of the wine. For example with most wine when we pour it into a new tank we pour into the top. But today with pinot noir we had to insert a tube into the bottom of the tank and it filled from there because its bad for the wine to be poured from the top because it gets too much air and bubbles, somehow effecting some of the chemical composition. It's such an art!

As I said, I am completely in love with my time here. I've become good buddies with Matteo (their 9 year old son) and over hot cocoa some days we teach each other Italian and English words that are useful. And we do yoga. Matteo loves yoga :)

Next Friday I take my last trip, to Interlaken, Switzerland, where I'll spend 24 hours before I go to Milan for a flight back to London on Saturday night. And in another 36 hours I'll find myself at Heathrow boarding a flight to bring me back to the US. I don't want this time to be coming to an end. I will absolutely cherish these last few days.

Thankfully I have an open invitation to come back and WWOOF here at La Vecchia Posta whenever I want. Maybe in my job hunt (to begin when I arrive back in the US) I'll find somewhere willing to let me abandon ship for a month to come back and find my solitude on the farm here in Italy. I hope :)

La Veccia Posta-My most recent home

So its has been a while since I've been able to send updates, that is in part because they keep me VERY busy here, also in part because they only have internet access on their computer for one hour per day...so my time online is spent making plans and sending a few important emails (this post being one of them!)

La Veccia Posta is located in a very, very small village. I think there are maybe 12 different families that live here. But it is not a lonlely village as from its hilltop perch one can see about 10 other villages of roughly the same size adorning various hilltops. It feels like classic Italy here. None of the locals speak English, old folks sit on benches and cast you glances with raised eyebrows when they can't place where you belong, and the countryside is endless.

It is absolutely beautiful. A complete escape from suburban life. I think this is the best place for me to finish a whirlwind of a trip before I go back to my whirlwind life (well, my whirlwind of establishing a life as I have no home, job, or stuff to go back to!)

Laundry swings from lines as you walk down the street and you can stop at any peach tree if you're hungry for a snack. There is a beautiful silence that overwhelmes this part of the world, except when a tractor pulls by with its harvest for the day or the hilltop churches from all the towns chime to let the townspeople know how far away the lunch hour is.

Everything is really beautiful, quaint, and wonderful. But the work is hard. I've now been here for 5 days and we spend at least 8 hours each day doing some type of work for the farm. I've now become a skilled picker of apples, grapes, peaches, cucumbers, basil, zucchini, and tomatoes. I think I diced about 10 pounds of apples today to make a pie. I've learned to make green tomatoe jelly (strange but delicious) and I've come down with and gotten over a horrible stomach flu (probably from the fact that all of the food is from the farm, so it has lots more bacteria than I am accustomed to).

I have lots of time to think here, not because I am alone but because most conversations that happen around me are in Italian. But I am slowly, ever so slowly, able to understand bits of the language. My limited Spanish has helped me some with the vocabulary and I find that if I really pay attention I can get a grasp of the subjects that they are talking about. It's tough, but it's exactly what I was hoping for.

On my second day here I secretly baked traditional chocolate chip cookies because I found out that it is my host mom, Annemie's, birthday. Though she caught me in the act of baking, she and the entire family (and everyone who comes to help on this farm, daily there are new random people that do this or that around the farm) loved them! Of course they had always heard about these cookies and they have purchased those ones from the store that are hard and not at all like home made ones. So I think I got in with them by that little effort right away. Reminder though, they do not use cups, tablespoons, or teaspoons for measurement here. Without acecss to converters, I just kind of guessed at the amounts of things I was putting in and after about an hour of adding more of this or that (oh and they dont have brown sugar either) I actually managed some decent cookies! I was very proud.

Tonight we have the true birthday celebration, with lots of food (that we prepared the last two days), someone is bringing an accordian, I've set up my travelling tent for the kids, and I am very excited that my (seemingly) coworker and friend Lisa is coming for the party. She WWOOF'd here a year ago from Germany and found a boyfriend and has stayed for over a year now. Im so happy to have her as she's the only person near my age, and one of the few people that speak English.

Overall I am very happy. I am working on getting used to the quiet, solitude, and hard work but overall I think it's exactly what I was hoping for. I'm starting to make plans for my return to London at the end of the month from where I then fly home! I still dont know that Im ready to go back to life in the States, but I do know that I have 2.5 more weeks to enjoy myself here. And that I will do!

Updates will probably be infrequent, but I'll do my best!!

Goodbye to Villa Sampaguita

My last few days at Villa Sampaguita were wonderfully relaxing, somewhat busy, but overall fantastic. Life there is ideallic, every morning I would rise from bed around 7:30 to go downstairs for a breakfast of freshly picked fruit, some tea, and home made bread and jam. Then we'd gather ourselves together as Tim layed out the days work (with our important 3 hour afternoon nap and relaxing time planned in) before we'd head out the door to get to work.

During my 5 days at Villa Sampaguita I got to:

-Clear an old vineyard of the poles that held the vines (hard work!)

-Build a greenhouse

-Construct the doors of the greenhouse and the doorframes from old scrap wood (it was like a big geometry puzzle game)

-Load and unload a few truckloads of 'fertilizer' from the neighboring horse stables

-Drink lots of delicious wine and enjoy as much wonderful cooking

-Attend a wine/proscioutto tasting event at a nearby winery

-Try a local delicacy, raw sausage (questionable, yes)

-Learn how to life a wine glass with a toothpick

-Get lots of goodnight kisses from Harriet, the 18 month old princess of the farm

-Learn lots about soil quailty and how to get good soil

-Hear a lot about plans to build a forest (Tim has plans to turn the back portion of his property into a forest with some EU stimulus funding) And with this came lots of information on EU farming policies

It was a really amazing 5 days at the farm with the family and I can't wait to return there as a friend and a guest. They were wonderful hosts who have lived inspiring lives and whose beliefs about life I found to be very much in line with my own. I had a wonderful time there, learned a lot, and definitely made some lifelong friends. So many thanks to them for having me!

Now if you ever take a trip to Italy and want to visit the famous wine region of Piemonte (Piedmont), you should absolutely go and visit Villa Sampaguita. They are wonderful hosts, will help arrange your day trips, will cook for you, and are all-in-all super nice hosts.More info at www.villasampaguita.com

But for me, my time was up and I headed off early one morning to go to a farm outside of nearby Tortona (about 1 hour by train away). I will spend my last three weeks of this European adventure on a small family farm in the Piedmont hills of Avalosca with a Belgian woman, her Italian husband, their son, and an array of fields, fruits, and livestock to keep me company.

Manual Labor but La Vida

My second day on the farm showed me that they don't always work quite as hard as we did on my first day.

For the morning they needed to run to the market for some supplies, so I got to accompany the family into Asti for the outdoor market and official bag-carrier girl. Marina and I went off for household shopping while the men and little Harriet went to look at tools and other play-things.

These markets are quite different from ones at home and I love them. The indoor market is a permanent place, essentially the equivalent of an USian (more on the term 'American later'). Each vendor has their particular genre of ware to sell, one for chicken meat, a pescaterian for fish, the bread man, a cheese shop. And you wander between all these specialists to order your freshly butchered meat. In the fish section you actually see the fish you're going to eat and, if you'd like, you can watch them be de-finned and de-boned right there on the spot (or you do it at home yourself later). I talked with Marina about how different this is than in the US, where our food (even what is presented as fresh at the butchers in the back) is already so de-animalized that you look at fillets instead of the actual fish they come from. And here they really are whole, eyes, gills, fins-you can see it all. If you've ever read Michael Pollen you'd know what I'm referring to in noticing how far removed we are in the US from our food, most things are already so processed and packaged we don't really think of the physical animal/shape it originally came from.

Anyway, while I squeemed and tried to come to terms with seeing my dinner in a life-like form, Marina was amazed at how sheltered we are from our food so she made sure to take me by a number of other life-like meals to see what I thought.

When we were finished stocking up at the markets, we made our way home for the afternoon meal and naps.

And I realized they're not so intense about their work schedules as they made out to be on day 1. We got going around four and put up the plastic covering for the winter greenhouse, including stringing rope over it to hold it down and digging trenches along the sides to ensure the side tarp was held down. We took apart the old greenhouse doors and then the day was over, Tim was tired so we went in for the day with plans to finish the doors tomorrow.

Before dinner I did a little front yard yoga session and practiced headstands with Marina before we made our way to the outdoor dinner table under the terrace for a lovely meal of roasted bell peppers, potatoes and salad. We had a lovely bottle of red wine from the local vineyard Vaudano and then these absolutely heavenly amaretto cookies called Amaretti di Mombaru LLO (last three letters are the initials of the three Asti ladies that made these cookies so popular in the region). They're honestly heaven.

And with extra wine for this evening, we had a table debate on the classification of music into genres and, well, just one of those conversations about music that last until everyone is rather intoxicated and ready for bed. Another wonderful day gone by here!

Life at Villa Sampaguita

My arrival last night (after another disaster train ride) was perfectly timed, Tim, an Englishman raised in South Africa, who lived in Napa Valley for about 20 years, picked me up and with many stories to fill the air, took me to a point where we could view three different parts of the French/Italian Alps and catch a glimpse their home, before he took me home for dinner! It was an unusual night because Marina (tim's wife) cooked a curry instead of the normal Italian food, but after a day of old sandwich and crackers I wasn't one to have any complaints about real food. It was Delicious! We dined and wined, and the wine carafes kept being refilled. A great family meal. I then went to my luxurious home-for-now, the B&B suite with a bed adorned by the best pillows I've layed on for months. I've got my own bathroom and some great views of the surrounding countryside.

We started work the first day around 8am, not too early I was thankful to note. I went out with Gerald, Marina's son, and worked till, about noon, and I know I am going to be hurting later because this morning's goal was to clear the old vineyard of all the posts used to hold up the grapes. There are a mixture of 7 foot long metal ones and then 5 foot, thick wood ones and there were at least 700 of them scattered throughout the field. We had to carry them up this hill, load them onto a truck and once the truck was full we drove and unloaded them somewhere else and started over again. And these things are heavy! And still clodded with dirt from when they were pulled up. Thankfully the job was done shortly after a luxurious lunch partnered with some yummy red wine and our mid-day nap.

The schedule here is to get up, breakfast around 745 for 30 minutes or so, then go to work till noon in the fields, garden, or sheds. We then sit down to a feast prepared by the woman of the house, Marina, then have an afternoon siesta to do as we like and rest until about 3(ish). After that we work another 4 or so hours before dinner, lots of wine, and then deep long-day-is-over sleep :)

Harriet is the riot of the house, at 18 months her command has everyone on a leash: so work, hammering, even tractors stop in their tracks for a few minutes of her attention. The geese and cat (Mr. Bean) also have special places here on the farm whereas the ducks are not named but instead referred to as any number of delicatessen sauces (they are for eating after all).

But it is lovely here, I have my own space to rest and clean up, they treat me like family, both Marina and Tim practice yoga every morning and as part of their lifestyle, the stories I get to hear of their lives are endlessly fascinating, and I'm loving the long days of labor. Grandpa, you taught me well :)

Well that wasn't very nice-Travel Disaster...again

I purchased a youth Eurail pass for this trip, valid for 15 days of trips within 2 months-meaning I could use the pass 15 unique days for as many trains as I wanted.

Part of the stipulation of the pass is that you fill in your date of travel before you board the train. Until today, this has not been enforced and one ticket-checker even said to wait to write in the date until someone came to check it. So that is what we've done with no problem...until today.

I agreed with Tim, my host at my first WWOOF farm, to arrive in Asti at 4pm by taking the 930 train. All was well this morning as I found out our hotel actually provides free breakfast every morning (would've been good to know the last two mornings we woke up there and ate cereal from small cups) so the day started out great. After a little confusion at the Rome Termini I figured out what train to board and was on my way.

I did a bit of reading and decided to nap a while. Eventually I was woken when the man came by to check tickets. So I found my pass, wrote in the date, and then he told me I'd have to pay €50.

Ummm..."No" I explained. This pass gets me on for free. Then he went on to say its €50 because I didn't write in the date before I boarded. I explained my past experiences, pointed out how there are numerous dates on my ticket that I wrote in and no one checked, I had already written in todays date, on other trains I didn't have a problem...and he had none of it. He said "cash or credit card". Well, I am in no place to pay €50 for a ticket that should be free, I asked him what it would cost to just buy a ticket and he rolled his eyes and said €100. This is when the passengers nearby started getting involved and (seemingly) argued my case. Again, he had none of It and said to pay or get off. I was stunned. He showed absolutely no sympathy or sincerity. Just kept rolling his eyes and saying "are you going to pay?".

I told him I wouldn't and asked what my options are, and seriously won't he just give me a break. I had no bad intentions, just following the precedent his peers had set with me so far. He said I had to get off and catch the next train...in 3 hours.

Well this would all be fine and dandy except I have my next boss/host/food provider expecting to pick me up from that train. But what option did I have, this guy wouldn't budge and was getting more rude by the minute. I told him that fine, I would get off and then take another train and he rolled his eyes a few more times and left.

I picked up by stuff and with the sad faces of the people nearby giving me their support I sludged to wait by the doors of the train. The first stop was some town that I couldn't even bear to look at the name of and when I got off I found the mean conductor man again and asked if I could please re-board the train. I had shown my good intentions by getting off with al of my stuff right? Wouldn't he please just let me get back on? I'd stand if that made him happy.

But no, not even another train employee working on the platform could convince him to make a decision in my favor, so with him blatantly ignoring me and waving away his co-worker he hopped on the stairway and waved the man on.

So I sat and waited for another train. The lady inside the station said I may be able to get to Asti by 7, 4 hours later than I'm expected. No good.

What's amazing though is that even though this one guy was a total and complete jerk on a power trip (I understand now that I messed up but I did all that I could to show that I had no bad intentions) there were so many other nice people. The two couples around me who argued for me with the man. A nice guy in the line at the station who, without my asking allowed me to go ahead of him in line. Another guy on the train platform who carried my tent onto the train for me. And of course the 3 guys that jumped to help me when I struggled to lift my bag into the luggage rack on the train.

On the next train...

This train will arrive in Pisa in 2 hours where I will try to call Tim from the winery to let him know when I will actually be arriving in Asti. What a day.

2 hours later in Pisa...
And of course I cannot just catch a train straight there. I will now go to Genova at 3pm, and catch a train from there to Torino, arriving around 8pm. I also had to pay €10 for a reservation on this train :/ Loss of time and money-what a bummer!

I called Tim and left a message, hopefully he won't be waiting at a station somewhere expecting me!

On the train I sat with Michelo, a student of 'laboratory' who has traveled the world, know italian, English, Spanish, and is learning Portugese, and who lives in a beach town in northern Italy. He empathized with me about the mean train man and over some chips we talked philosophy.

By the way, the train ride I'm on now, from Pisa to Genova, is astoundingly beautiful. Ragged cliff-faced mountains. Brick castles perched atop mountain summits. Occassional views of the sea beating on the rocks below the train tracks. Vineyards stretching out across the valleys. Its gorgeous!

Later in Genoa...

I got off the train as quick as the long line would allow and headed to see when the next train to Torino would come to take me to Asti. As I expected, one hour. I went to look for a payphone to again call Tim and let him know the situation. Digging 30 cents out of my purse I used a pay phone and got a hold of him!! He answered in Italian and when I responded asking for Tim he laughingly switched to English and asked how I was doing. We chatted about my disaster of a day then, consulting schedules, agreed on the train I should take. He told me I should go wander around Genoa for my hour and enjoy the beautiful city and hed be there to get me at 8. What relief!

And so exploring Genoa I went (laden with backpack, tent, and groceries). First though I stopped in at a restaurant for a nice dark German beer (I felt I deserved one after all the stress!) and then I wandered the streets of the quaint city.

Back on the train to Asti now, I can't wait to get to my home for the week! And guess what, Every person who I mentioned my destination to has exclaimed how Asti is the center of wine-making in Italy! Particularly known for champagne! I think I chose a farm well!

What a(nother) disaster of a travel day!

Day 2: Vatican City

We purchased all-inclusive tickets for Vatican City and the Vatican Museum from a very friendly lady outside of the train station when we arrived in Rome. For €26, we got to enter the museum without the line and got an audioguide. (Would normally cost €24 and you'd wait in line for hours, I'd recommend our way).

Choosing the 2pm entry time (we figured it would be good to be inside the museum during the hottest part of the day) we had about 5 hours to wander around Rome. Normally we would have slept in a bit longer, but there were a few inconveniences of our otherwise great hotel. First, there was no AC and it was hot and we were on the 3rd floor with our window facing the sun all day. Second, we were on a crazily busy street. Cars whizzed by, trucks made deliveries to shops below, drunk people gathered (for what I can only assume were yelling matches) and made ridiculous amounts of noise in the middle of the night. And third, we slept with the windows open so we got all of this noise And we were still sweltering hot inside.

Anyway, we spent a wonderful day wandering the city to check out the Pantheon and its surroundings before walking our way to the Vatican. And I really think the Pantheon is my favorite building in Rome. It was originally founded as a war memorial though it was later converted to a place of worship. Though huge, the outside is covered in unassuming brick, some of which is crumbling (as is all brick in Rome). But pass through the large doors and walk into a rotunda of marble and columns and memorials. Raphael was buried there and has a beautiful coffin on which two doves fly, highlighted in a glass case. Also, the domed ceiling is pretty spectacular with its oculus opening in the top.

All in all I love this building.

After swinging by another round building, we made our way to Vatican City and its immense museum. I could take a whole day in each of its many galleries individually, but after a long day in the heat and only 4 hours until closing, I made due with the time I had and followed the highlights of the audio guide.

Again, more than the art I loved the innate architecture, the frescoed ceilings, and the intricate decor of the rooms we passed through. And seeing the huge work of Michaelangelo in the Sistine Chapel got a huge amount of my time. What a spectacular, huge amount of artwork. It was very amazing.

And with awe I also considered my perspective on the Catholic Church and (possibly offensive statement coming) I was rather disgusted by the amount of money that the church and its Pope's have taken from people to assert its power through the accumulation of such an enormous amount of cultural capital. While I hugely appreciated the collection, I think it completely goes against the idea of faith and religion for the church to acquire the donations people made 'to god' to buy a bunch of fancy stuff and show how powerful they are. And then they charge €25 per person to enter. If they want to be a service to mankind by collecting all of that beautiful artwork, it should be free since it was people who paid for it anyway, it shouldn't be considered some private collection.

I think that I've made my point. Anyway, it was a beautiful collection and I am fortunate to have had the means and ability to visit it.

The story of the traveling underpants

You know how when you're moving around a lot, or heck, any time you are living out of a suitcase, and you get home and you realized that you Did leave your toothbrush in that cup by the sink?

Well, I've been doing pretty well to keep all of my stuff together considering the amount of moving we do. I've been on the road for 40 days and in that time have stayed the night in 18 different places.

I'm pretty proud to say that I've done really well to not lose much even with all of this moving (I'm not the best person when it comes to being thorough or checking details). I think I left a black long-sleeved in Ireland somewhere, I lost one toothbrush, a razor, and a brand new tube of toothpaste.

And then there was Yohan's place in the French countryside. We packed up our stuff same as always, did a check-through of the area (during which I noticed the strings of a bag that I own on the floor-but thought to myself "No, surely that bag is in my backpack") and then we made a dash for the train

Well it turns out that my noticing was correct, because when I went to find a pair of clean underwear after our evening of camping in Avignon it turned out that that little bag in which I had stored them was most definitely not in my backpack.

I got in touch with Yohan, and sure enough there it was under a chair. After a few emails, he had Pierpaolo's Italian address (this was our next stop) and promised to send me the package immediately.

We left Peirpaolo's house on a day after the mail had arrived and there was as yet no box for me.

So, I've now given Pierpaolo the address of the second farm that I'll be working at in northern Italy and he has promised to send the box there as soon as it has arrived.

Okay you're probably wondering what I'm doing in the meantime? Don't worry about it, I had my clean and dirty stuff separated and miraculously there were a few pairs that I get to rotate through and hand wash.

Embarrassing. Kinda a pain. And now I can say that a Frenchmen and an Italian have sent me lingerie. Haha oh my!

Best for last: Roma

You turn a corner in Rome and there is something old and beautiful to see. Seriously, a five minute walk in this city will show you a number of famous buildings fountains, or monuments and you really can't make a wrong turn! A perfect last stop for my traveling partner Jackie before her return to the states.

We arrived in Rome late Friday afternoon and decided that after we checked into the hotel and took a nap we should go for a walk and try to swing by the Trevi Fountain and then the Spanish Steps. Along the way we also got glimpses of the Italian Opera House, the Four Fountains, a fountain with a triton in the middle, and a large ruinous church.

The Trevi Fountain, though quite crowded, is a beautiful sight. Its huge white base with a number of figures of men and women and babies adorned in (scant) robes and fruit. It's a beautiful fountain and one that seems to have a tradition where one stands with their back to the fountain and then, after making a wish, tosses a coin back over your shoulder into the water. And of course you have to get a picture taken of you as this is done, so you end up throwing in about 5 coins to get the right shot.

We then headed north to the Spanish Steps, a Huge staircase often (in postcards) adorned with a beautiful assortment of red flowers. With another fountain at its base, this huge staircase is quite the spot to sit and take in the day and people watch. We are in Rome of course!

After the Steps, we did a bit more wandering before deciding to call it a day. We had a long two days of sigftseeing ahead of us!

We made our way back to our amazingly located Pensione. Now Pensione's are in between a hostel and a hotel. You get your own room, but toilet and shower facilities are communal. We got a total steal at this place paying €40 a night rather than the posted €125. Hotels.com did us well!

Firenze.

I wish we had had more time in this beautiful city.

Florence, or Firenze as it is originally called, is a town in the Italian hills boasting a rich cultural and academic history and present. And in one day we tried to see it all!

It is such a cool city, great galleries, shops, and decent food (finally)!

We always start off by wandering in the complete opposite direction than the city center, probably because I have found that in most cities the way Jackie says we should go is the opposite of what we should do actually, so I just do that instead of going with instincts. Silly me. I wanted to go see those beautiful gold doors by Botticelli and then the famous Umo galleries. About the doors, I heard from friends that they were originally brilliantly gold but due to the passage of time they were not particularly shiny anymore, so when I saw brilliantly gold doors I figured they had to be some other doors. Of course the only gold doors in Florence are those of Boticelli, I think they must have cleaned them off as of late.

Then I went and paid €14 for the most famous of Florence's museums, the Uffizi gallery (I didn't want to deal with the line) and loved it. Even more than the art I loved the building it was all in. I wandered around for an extra hour after I had viewed the work so that I could wander with my eyes on the ceiling taking in all the frescoes!

After hours in the gallery, I meandered my way back to where I should catch the bus back to the campsite, taking in the street artists work, the shops, and the amazing architecture. In my wanderings, I found a beautiful light tan italian leather purse I didn't think I could live without (my excuse is that it can replace my old coach purse (I've used it daily for about 4 years, a very good run for a purse)). But it was even better because, due to my indecision and some bantering skills the lady knocked off about €15 from the asking price! I'd call that a definite score!

And then I wandered some more. I looked at paintings, enjoyed the architecture, and sat down for a latte in this random little square. The only bad thing was that Italian men have no sense for leaving a girl alone! Honestly walking around I got cat calls and all sorts of obnoxious sweet talking. Its crazy, even guys in vehicles will slow down on the street to look and cat-call. Italian culture huh?

I eventually found my way back to the central cathedral (another magnificent work of architecutre, white, pink, and black marble intricately carved and built up) from where I found my way back to our home for the night, another campsite (this one with a pool!). I nearly missed my bus stop for the campsite tonight because I was re-reading old emails and writing blog posts, and after a lay by the pool I got to bed in preparation for an early morning train ride to...Rome!

We could just swing by Pisa right?

After a few days of camping in some immense heat, we felt we had seen enough of Siena and thought Florence might be a nice stopover before Rome. So on Tuesday around 3pm we figured we could catch the 310 bus back to our campsite, load up and get back on the 3:50 bus back to Siena and then be able to catch the 430 train from Siena to Florence. A beautiful tight plan that would get us to a campsight with swimming pool by night time.

And then we missed the 3pm bus. So of course that plan went out the window.

Instead we mosied our way around Siena some more, enjoying the hilly walkways and realizing that no establishment which serves any sort of food is open between the hours of 2 and 6pm. And we were Hungry.

After our first not-tasty Italian meal we had the best gellato I have tasted to date (I got peach and some sort of vanilla, graham, chocolate heavenliness). We watched the late afternoon light warm the bricks of the hilly town and then we went back to rest for the night.

Tomorrow's plan: A 7am bus to Siena, a few hour train ride to Pisa (may as well drop by and see the leaning tower right?) and then an hour train ride to Florence where we'll find our newest campsite, pool and all!

Pisa was a great little stop. Of course the Leaning Tower is at the furthest point away from the train station, so with backpacks, tent and groceries we trekked our way through the midday heat to visit the tower and give it some luck in standing up.

We had lunch at a lovely little cafe at the base of the tower where I had a fine Ragu Balenese and then we preceded to the tower to snap some photos before heading on our way.

Jackie and I did a little acro to the amusement of a big group of Australians and then tried to teach them a few moves (unsuccessfully).

Then we made our way back to the train, sweating like mad in the hottest of the mid-day heat, and caught a window-less, non-air conditioned train to Florence!

Camping and Siena

Our campsite during this part of the trip was beautiful. About a 30 minute bus ride from Siena, we had a lovely alcove of trees under which we layed and relaxed the hot days away.

For our day in Siena, we didn't really know what there was to see so we just wandered the direction of the crowds. Walking by a wide variety of shops selling everything from clothes to toy Pinocchio's (he's a big thing here in Italy) we first came upon the beautiful pie-shaped and sloped city square _____. With a large church and tall clock tower at the base of the slope, this area was full of tourists and shops for tourists-but it was beautiful. Each day in town we grabbed a gelato from one of the many shops nearby.

The duomo here in Siena is stunning as well. Made of strips of alternating white and black marble, the church towers above the city, gleaming in its magnificent architectural beauty. Hundreds of people sit along the walls of the square in front of it to admire its beauty (often while eating gelato).

Siena is a great medieval city fortified atop sweeping hillsides. The views from the high points of the city show a hilly sprawl of vineyards and (currently dried) sunflower fields. The streets are small and winding, often careening up or down a steep hillside. Walking the town is wonderful! You see as many local flags flying from lamp-posts as you see laundry hanging from lines stringed across high above the streets.

Internet was my only qualm here as there is only one place in the entire city where one can find internet-an Irish pub near the central bus stops. I'd definitely advise only a day or two in the city, but if you have the means, drives/bike rides/runs in the surrounding countryside allow you to stumble on countless treasures; abandoned castles, old working brick farmhouses, vineyards beginning the grap harvest. It's a beautiful place.

A bus to Sovicille?

We left Pierpaolo at the train station in Treviso and after a few hours and a couple of smooth train transitions (a miracle in its own right) we arrived in Siena and easily made our way to the bus station where we caught a ride to the city center. And thanks to Pierpaolo having called the campsite, we managed to know exactly which buses to get at which stops. So we found ourselves on a bus to Sovicille where our campsite for the week is located.

We got off the bus, and with my first try at Italian on someone other than Pierpaolo, I asked "Dove 'e la campeggio La Montagnol", where is the campsite. Presuming I actually speak Italian, the old shop owner started pointing and giving me directions, which I mostly understood because Pierpaolo and I had practiced left and right (a sinistra and a destra) while on a bike ride one day. But he also said "1 kilometer", which meant we had a bit of a trek ahead of us with backpacks, a tent, and our week worth of groceries to lug along.

And it is Hot here in western Italy, really hot and humid. And have I mentioned that you also get eaten alive my evil mosquitos (that it seems I am somewhat allergic too)? But the night was coming on so it cooled down as we followed the random signs that didn't say a distance but did tout the name of our destination. The walk was lovely though. Wooded hillsides rose around us and scattered stone villas were sprinkled amongst the trees. Its perfect Italian countryside with the occasional wilted sunflower field off in the distance.

We finally arrived to be greeted by a not-too-friendly but very helpful campground attendant who checked us in and said go take any site we wanted. With our sweet new pop-up tent, purchased from a giant outdoors store (those things are seriously cool) we set up camp, checked out our current home, visited the little store of the campsite and bought bed-roles for only €6. Then we climbed in the tent and immediately fell asleep. (Clubbing until 4am the night before helped with that).

Waking around 9am, we decided to take the day to just do nothing-one of our first of these days on this trip. I went for an early morning run to explore and decided to veer off the main road and onto one of the many little hiking paths. About a mile in I couldn't stand the bugs anymore. It was like I was running through a netting of them, smacking into them with my face and arms. Ick it was gross. So I turned back, swatting myself as I ran and then I found a nice quiet spot to sit, stretch, and meditate for a few hours.

This brought me to 1pm, so I showered, then layed out in the Hot hot sun. Eventually I wandered over to Jacks and we chatted and napped for the rest of the afternoon, getting a few bottles of wine and talking about all sorts of nonsense.

When night fell, we went for a walk and found an old abandoned house, then came back to lay in this big open field adjacent to the campground. We layed and chatted and stretched and drank and eventually Jackie decided to head to bed with me following shortly after. Tomorrow would be our big day in Siena.

Venice

With a bag full of sandwiches, pizzas, fruit and water (courtesy of Pierpaolo's mom) Jackie, Stefano, Pete and I hopped on a train bound for the island city of Venice.

Stefano studies architecture in the city, so he was appointed as our guide with plans to see the best of the architecture, canals, bridges, duomo's, and squares that this packed city has to offer (I've never seen a place so incredibly full of tourists, it was like Disneyland, no one lives there, everyone is a visitor, and even the locals don't really call it home). But what a beautiful city. With more bridges than houses, the city winds its way around the many canals that are themselves filled with more houses (in the form of boats) and more gondolas than you could count.

Like most places in Europe, the buildings are packed tightly together and offer a variety of architecural styels and colors. The thing about Venice though is that it seems like little buildings are squeezed into any space possible. If a walkway is wider than necessary, the Venitians just smack another building in between. The combination of this and canals and bridges for some roads and not others makes getting around the city more like a wander through a maze than a leisurely stroll between destinations. One wrong turn and you end up at a dead end or without a bridge to cross the canal.

Venice really does seem to be a city that won't last much longer. Countless buildings lean and tilt while others are warped as if in a cartoon. Along waterways many building have garages, not for cars but for their boats. How cool would it be to just walk downstairs and pop in your boat for a run to the supermarket down the canal?!

Another thing about Venice is all the glassware. Blown glass originated on the neighboring island Murano and shops are full of the beautiful pieces that people make from it. Figurines, jewelry, pipes, wine stopper. You name it, I bet you could find it made of glass somewhere in Venice.

We enjoyed lunch in one of the many piazzas (city squares) before walking to another park along another canal to take a little nap in some cool afternoon shade.

To get us back to the train station, we decided to hop on a traghetti, one of the large open-air boats, for a ride through the canals for about €5 each. (gondola rides will set you back about €100 (on the low end of the scale) and as Pierpaolo explained jokingly, only Asian tourists or entrepreneurial millionaires ride on them). On a boat through the Grand canal was a great way to depart from the city and see its many sights.

So that was Venice. A beautiful, dirty, warped city that may one day be swept into the sea but until then remains an island to be wandered and cherished for its unique heritage and existence.

Italian Fooooood!

So. Much. Delicious. Food.

Most of which was prepare by Mrs. Cedron, and it was all superb.

Upon our arrival in Treviso we were starved and excited about the prospect of home-made lunch from Pete's mom. And home-made did we get!

From the backyard garden we ate green beans, tomatoes, and lettuce all mixed up in a home-made salad. Then came the pasta, some of those twisty noodles (that I can never seem to cook right, either too crunchy or soggy every time) and they were perfect! Topped with tomato sauce courtesy of the backyard tomato vines. And something must be said about these tomatoes! They were the most juicy, sweet, deep red melt in your mouth delicious tomatoes that I've ever had. It still makes my mouth water!

With the pasta came a deliciously season thin strip of some juicy meat. After I cleared my plate the second time we got yet another course of veggies before we ate some lovely ripe peaches.

About 3 hours later after we went for a lovely bike ride tour of the town, we sat down to another amazing display of food. Starting this time with a caprese salad (again, incredible tomatoes and amazing mozzarella), then moving on to cantelope slices wrapped in prosciutto. This dish definitely seemed like a strange combination but the flavors complement one another in a magical way! Next we had some spaghetti and more of the wonderful home-made sauce before again ending the meal with a fresh peach.

Meals would continue on in this fashion for the rest of the stay. Beautiful plates full of incredible mixtures of pasta and bread and fruit. All sorts of deliciousness made their way onto that lovely kitchen table. And every meal was accompanied by red and white wine, harvested, prepared and bottled at their friend's vineyard down the street.

Yum!!

Cedron Family Marvels!

Our plans for Treviso were something that, for the first time on this trip, I didn't have to make! We were completely 100% taken care of by my friend Pierpaolo (1st year Ihouse frined from Italy who came to Colorado to visit) and his wonderful Italian-language-only family, the Cedron's.

Arriving in Treviso about 6 hours later than we had planned, Pete (as I call Pierpaolo) was there awaiting us. With big hugs and the Italian style kiss of right then left cheek, we loaded into his car and headed straight to his parents home for a huge Italian lunch (our first meal of the day!). The car ride was spent reminiscing about a trip we took with a big group of people to Colorado and then we got to catch each other up on all the gossip and news that we've been hearing about all of our old IHouse friends.

Arriving in the town Cedon, Pete took us first to his sister's apartment. Which, by the way, is gorgeous and huge and we got all to ourselves during our visit because she was on holiday! Ah it was so nice, a perfect peaceful place to get to go home to! We were already feeling spoiled.

We cleaned up quickly and then Pete took us over to his parents house to meet the family and eat! With hugs and introductions to his brother Stefano, mother, father and grandmother (more on her later!) Pierpaolo translated the question-and-answer session about our trip as we made our way right to the dinner table. This was the first of many absolutely incredible meals that we got to enjoy per Pete's mom and there will be a post just on these meals coming soon!

Now, the language barrier made it tough for everyone to understand each other, but Pete is a great translator, Stephano (the brother) understood basic English, and then we added in a lot of hand gestures and some Spanish (many similar words with only a slight difference in pronunciation).

Pete's dad has his few English lines, "Hello", "How are you?" and "Nice to meet you." which he always says to you, and then keeps going through the phrases about 3 more times before he moves to Italian, giving you some pats on the back and filling the room with lots of deep Italian laughter.

His mother is another story, with no English at all she, usually the director of every movement in the house, had a tough time getting control and having everyone sit down. But boy she is in charge, something evident by the command in her voice that puts the three men into immediate action when she starts pointing her finger.

Now, granny was the highlight of all of this. At 90 years of age she doesn't do particularly well with change, new people, or remembering things so when we happened to sit down with them at the dinner table she went into a frenzy of questions and pointing, joking and all sorts of Italian babbling. It was completely, amazingly hilarious (or maybe amazing and hilarious). She was a total character this woman!! First she freaked out because Jackie wasn't wearing any shoes-she even told Pete to go get a pair of his for the poor gilr, "what was she doing without shoes anyway"! Of course we understood nothing but could hear the demands in her voice as she asked who and what in the world were these two girls.

The family likes to joke with granny, so in the numerous occasions we met (only the last 2 encounters with her did she remember having met us before) we were from America, Africa, Ukrain. Or we were going to be staying in her room with her, or maybe that we were both Pete's girlfriend. Oh any number of stories they told her, sometimes she'd seem to believe it and others she knew they were messing with her. Anyway, she was completely and absolutely spectacular. A fiery soul, a mouth like you wouldn't believe, very agile, and a total jokester.

And guess what, on the last day when we visited for lunch she remembered who we were :)

So many thanks to the Cendon family for their incredible kindess, their food, giving us keys to their home, and completely spoiling us with their generosity and pizzaz!

Italy plans

I'm going to learn Italian. Yep, it's been decided. With the help of my minor background in Spanish, Pierpaolo's patience, and the phrase book I bought today I'm going to do it.

Oh, and hopefully the fact that I'm spending essentially the entirety of my last month and a half of travels in Italy should help :)

I've got it finally arranged and I'm going to be working and living on an organic farm in Italy (in a small town near Genoa) from August 30-September 22(ish). I don't quite know the terms of the stay, but my contact on the farm sounds lovely, they have horses, and it will be the beginning of the grape harvest and wine-making season!

I know I'm in for hard work on the farm, but I'm hoping to learn a lot, travel on weekends, and learn Italian along the way!

I cannot wait for the life of me! More updates on the details to come!

Getting to Treviso=disaster!

Well, to start off I must say it was a disaster/adventure. Which, of course, is my favorite way to do things.

We woke up at 5am and scrambled our stuff together in an effort to get out of the house on time. But of course when we were ready to go our lovely host brought out tea and cookies for a little breakfast to tide us over. This made us most definitely late. But we did arrive finally at the central station in Milan with exactly 1 minute until our train was set to depart. With another exasperated flee through another busy train station we found what I thought might be the right platform and asked the luggage boy driving by which was the train to Venito (we had to go through Venice to get to Treviso). He waved an arm and pointed to the left and said some seemingly exasperated words and we Ran.

We jumped on board and with relief we found a nice group of seats to relax in with our backpacks. As the train began to role out of the station, I thought it might be good that we had actually jumped on the right train...and, well, we hadn't. Venice was east and we happened to be going south. Fail.

And it so happened that there wasn't a stop for at least an hour...and we couldn't just grab a connection, we'd first have to go back to Milan, then get another train to go to our original destination, Venice. Ughhhh.

Well, we could get mad or we could enjoy the scenery so enjoy it I did. And I wrote, and I relaxed.

At whatever station it was that we were supposed to go to, I decided to be smart and go talk to the ticket desk to find out what our options were. To my great disappointment, he explained that we'd have to wait an hour for the next train (at this point 9:30), we'd get to Milan at 11, and have to wait for the 12:30 train back to Venice, putting us in around 630pm. More ughhh.

We went back to the platform to wait for out train and one arrived that said it was destined for Milan. But...it was a night train. I was over it at this point so I just jumped on and we made our way to a compartment (passing one of the train attendants in the hallway and receiving some odd looks and quick questions he decided in the end to just ignore us). Figuring out how to shut the door, there we sat, hoping we wouldn't get found out and hoping that this one actually went back to Milan.

And it did! With good speed as well. We actually made it back for the 9:30 train to Venice!!

Ah and we were elated with this! We got on board, asked if this went to the station we needed in Venice and when we received the affirmation! Thank goodness.

Well it so happened that this train decided to be extra-ordinarily slow and late. Two hours late for that matter. I managed to figure out a way to let Peirpaolo know that rather than getting in at 12:30, we would be there closer to 3.

But ya know what, we did make it. And to our relief Pierpaolo was there awaiting us and he let us know that his mom was preparing us a great big lunch. Welcome to Italy.

Night with a widow in Milan

Yes, I mean exactly the title that is written. Last night we stayed on two very comfortable couches in a beautiful 7th floor flat of an Italian woman who is mourning the recent loss of her husband. And she had more stories and was more kind than any stranger we have yet to meet on this trip.

Yesterday we had to leave Avignon in a hurry, and we ended up with a train schedule that had many transfers and brought us into the border city of Ventimiglia but not across the country to Treviso where we needed to go.

In the ticket line there in Ventimiglia, an older woman befriended me and offered to let us go ahead of her in line (she could tell we had no clue what trains we were taking to get to where we needed. She gave me her advice and continued to explain that it was going to be a pain for us to get there. Then, when we got to the ticket window, I said our destination and when the man responded this fiery old lady took over and went back and forth over the printed route options the man was producing at her request.

Helping to take us through our options and explaining to us what crazy routes they were sending us on. She stopped and said, in her beautifully Italian English "You girls should go to Milano and stay with me, then in the morning take train to Venico then to Treviso. Come, come, stay with me. We take the train in one hour. I am in cart 7. Go see the city and come back for the train with me."

Well, I had gotten some pretty good vibes as this lady bossed around the ticket man and I was happy to not take the alternative option which would have had us on 4 different trains, each of 2 hour increments, arriving in Treviso at 6:12am. We decided to go for a walk, see if we could get in touch with Pierpaolo so we could get his advice.

We went on our walk, with backpacks on in case we decided to take a different option, and by some miracle found internet the first place we tried. I logged onto skype to give him a call and when I explained the two options he exclaimed "Oh no Stephania! 10:30 definitely. That is the option." And so it was settled. We'd go home with our lovely new friend (whose name I did not yet know) and stay with her and catch the 7:30am train the next morning.

We went back to the station and found her car, where she was more or less in a private box. She was joyous to see us and began to pick up on the stories of her life right away as she unpacked a picnic and began feeding us crackers and cheese and proschuitto and bread.

Then came the stories of her life. Her travels, her work, her son, her homes, and her husband, who always said they'd do things later and now, well.

The four hour train ride was filled with her stories of joy and loss and I was completley enraptured by every second of it. What a life this woman has had.

When we arrived she led us to the metro and helped us to buy tickets. We caught the metro right when we arrived and with even better fortune ("from angels" she said) we caught a tram immediately. So the journey that usually took her at least 1 hour on late nights due to poor timing between connections took us merely 15 minutes.

We got to her house, took much-needed showers then hit the sheet right at midnight with plans to wake at 6am for an early morning connection to Venice. What crazy luck we have. And she was really so so kind!

I will always look at Francesca as our angel from Milan :)

So much for plans

The morning of our planned departure to Italy, we made our way to the train station to be told that the night train that would take us to Milan was fully booked. Well shoot.

With a high language barrier, we asked the train station attendant what our options were. This is what we got.

Leave at either 12 or 4 for Nice, then take a train to Monaco, then a train to Ventimiglia (a town on the border of France and Italy). Then she said "Once there, ask if there is any way to get to Treviso, I don't have that information."

Awesome.

If we left at 12 we would get in around 5 and have a chance of catching another train that could get us closer to Treviso. Or with the 4pm, we'd get in around 9 and who knows what we'd find.

We chose the 12pm option, meaning I had to cancel on my alumni visit and giving us an hour to wander Avignon before we had to go. A bummer, but it's what one must expect with a Eurail pass and last minute planning.

So here we are on a train, unsure if we'll reach our destination but enthusiastic for the adventure at hand :)

Fortified Avignon

Wow the ground of our campsite was hard. I'm glad I've been practicing sleeping on my back (I'm one of those 'on-my-side' sleepers) because my hips definitely couldn't have handled that ground.

We awoke in the morning to one of the nicest, warmest days we've had on this trip (have I mentioned that it has rained in every other city we visited thus far?). The campsight offered chocolate crossaints for €1,20 for breakfast (these things were Heavenly) and we decided today would be a good day to relax and enjoy the sunshine.

We asked the attendant for advice, wanting a nice place to go lay out by the river. Instead we received him plugging his nose, telling us the river was polluted and smelly, and instead telling us to go to the campsight pool. I am one to listen to advice of the locals, so pool it was, where we layed in the sun, letting our skin soak up its first vitamin D in a long while.

In the afternoon we ventured to town and wandered the city. Avignon was at one time home to the Pope, and remains a fortified city to this day. A 50 foot tall wall surrounds the main city, inside of which there is a beautiful maze of cobbled streets, fancy shops, and lots of ice cream parlors.

We spent a few hours wandering the town until we followed the sign offering one of the best wine-tastings in Avignon. The friendly lady at the shop gave us a sampling of three local wines and then pointed us to her favorite bottle of local red wine, a 2001 Domaine St Pierre, Cotes Du Rhone.

Wine in hand we made our way home for dinner and our local sampling of flavorful wine. In the front garden of the reception we played a really unfortunate game of scrabble while enjoying the wine and talking about our trip.

The next evening after I made a quick trip to Carpenteria to visit with an alum, we would head to Italy and visit an old friend Pierpaolo in Treviso.

You mean you don't rent tents?

After a much longer train ride than we expected, we arrived in Avignon around 9:15pm. This meant that the buses that run to our campsite were done for the evening and we'd have to grab a cab.

We made our way to the taxi stand and waited...and waited. One swung up and the driver yelled something in French to us as I approached the window. I said the name of our campsite and received another bout of quick French questioning, to which, flustered, I replied with the name again. Waving his hand at me, the driver got out of the car, regarded me, then walked to the other man waiting for a cab and began to speak. The nice man gestured to us, I presume saying we were first, but the driver grabbed his bags and literally pushed him toward the cab door. The man merely shrugged at us and got in, leaving us with no taxi and no clue as to what the deal with the driver was.

Alright, I thought, we wait. But it wasn't looking good as in our 30 minutes there that was the only taxi we'd seen. I noticed a Hotel Ibis nearby (those things are Everywhere over here) and figured it couldn't hurt to go ask them to help us call a cab.

The lady at reception greeted us with disregard but offered her help in calling us a cab. She gave us directions on where to go to meet it...but of course they made absolutely no sense.

So back to the taxi stand we went. Now, Yohan had helped us look at the website for the campsite and said they close down for the night at 10pm...and we knew that time was getting close.

Finally a cab swung around and he pulled up to us and thank goodness asked if we were the ones from 'hotel ibis'. Yes!!

I told him the name of the campsight and he said he knew it exactly (or so I interpreted by his gestures and tone). He helped us into the cab and off we went, much relieved to be with someone who had a clue of what was going on.

Now, I'm pretty decent with maps, and I knew from the website of our campsite that we'd go to a big round-a-bout and turn right for our site. Well, we got to a roundabout and that didn't happen, and then we ended up going down a very dark and long road with the taxi till approaching €30. I tapped the man on the shoulder again and said the name, and immediately he slammed the breaks and hit himself on the forehead a few times, then swung the car back around. As I suspected we made a different turn at the round-a-bout and quickly pulled into the site.

Hurrying, we were able to make our way to the office and, again using hand gestures, tried to communicate that we wanted 2 nights and a (again with gestures /\ "tent". With nods and smiles the man gave us a map and a site number, had me write down some information, and took my passport sending us on our way.

"Well that was easy", I thought.

At camp site 33 we saw no tent...Jackie wandered to a mobile trailer but I was pretty positive that wasn't it. So back we went to the office and again I tried to explain we had no tent.

Eyes wide in disbelief, the man nodded in concern and shrugged his shoulders at us. "Uh oh" I thought.

Then, a brilliant idea popped into his head and he smiled, raising his right index finger in an 'ah-ha' moment. He scurried to the back of the building and audibly shuffled around for a few minutes before he emerged with...a tent!!! Wooohoo!

Saying thank you as many times as we could, we took the tent and made our way back to the site. By the looks of it, this was one of those magical tents (that we had continually heard about since we arrived in Europe) that spring open once you take them out of the bag. Great, until you have to figure out how to fold them back up.

Anyway, it didn't matter. We had a campsight for about €7 a night, we had a tent, and we were sleepy.

As expected the tent did magically spring up, smacking both of us as it rapidly expanded. We tossed our bags inside and went to the bathroom to clean up...and of course there was no toilet paper.

Well, considering what could have been it wasn't too bad for us. And it was definitely a funny experience.

Weekend Jaunt in the French Countryside

After a month and a half in cities and being busy, we took up my friend Yohan (a friend from my second year in IHouse) on his offer for us to come spend time at his home in the countryside in the middle of France. We originally had plans to go to Avignon but we said yes to the opportunity and arranged for a train ride to La Souterraine where he offered to come pick us up.

With the help of a young woman sitting a few rows back, we got off at the correct station (I couldn't make out anything the conductor said about the stop names) and found Yohan waiting for us on the platform. We piled our stuff into his little car and made our way through countless villages and beautiful rolling, wooded countryside to his beautiful country home.

Keys to this story are: Peace and Quiet, Food (so much amazing food), and Rest.

The silence around his house was beautiful. When we first started making our way to his village we commented on the small size of the roads: he said that was nothing compared to what was near his house. We wound back and forth, the woods close on either side of us and beautiful woodsy sents coming in through the opened windows. The village has a cluster of maybe 12 other houses, all built in the same style and most converted from their 19th century modest to have modern amenities. Oh, and all of the houses had beautiful baskets of brightly colored flowers lining the windowsills and walkways outside.

The first evening a few of Yohan's French friends came by for a glorious dinner. It started with an apertif, then bread and cheese, small ham and cheese sandwiches (the best I've ever had) and a sweet lettuce and fruit salad. Next Yohan brought out a huge cute of beef that he grilled and served with potatoes, lettuce and corget. To finish we enjoyed a beautiful cherry pie, with freshly picked cherries from a neighbors tree and a beautiful raspberry meringue. We consumed all of this with a few magnificent regional wines before we moved to the living room to enjoy our food-coma bliss before heading to bed.

The next day we spent the morning around the house, still full from the previous evening's meal before we walked the mile of country road to Yohan's grandmother's house for lunch. A large plate of green beans, eggs and tomatoes (all from the garden) awaited us and I went to town eating it, only to find out we had two more courses coming! I don't think I've eaten this much during a meal except for during holidays! Next we had a veal stew-like dish with potatoes and veggies before the finale of a pear pie. Again, I could barely move from the amount I consumed! But everything tasted like heaven!

During the afternoon we did some yoga together on the front lawn and later in the day got some rain so we relaxed inside. When it cleared again, Jackie and I went on a bike ride around the countryside to explore some more. It is beautiful here. Everything is the most lush shades of green, the cows are beautifully white or cream colored, and small brown deer bound from wooded area to wooded area as we approached, disturbing them from their grazing. We rode along smooth single-lane roads, only twice having to move aside for a vehicle (one of which was a tractor).

Another lovely evening meal and we relaxed around the living room with music and conversation to entertain as our stomaches figured out again how to handle the richness and large amount of food.

On our final afternoon Yohan again cooked us up something scrumptious before we hopped in the car for yet another rushed attempt to catch a train. Thankfully it was running late so we are now relaxing on our way to Avignon for a few days of riverside camping!

Montmarte

Though not exactly sure as to where to go, we decided to take the afternoon to spend at Montmarte. The home of the Sacred Heart church, this hilltop overlooks the whole of Paris and is known for a central square in which artists paint and display their work, some of whom will do your portrait on the spot. If you come to Paris an afternoon here is a must. I'd say its probably my favorite place in Paris.

It is quite a trek to get up here however. From whichever station you take the metro to, you've got either a few long flights of stairs or a longer walk up twisting streets (though I just saw there is a large elevator that takes you to the steps of Sacred Heart). Last time I was here Ed was kind enough to drive us up to the top where we enjoyed a delicious meal (that would have been better were it that the service in Paris were any good!).

High above the city you see Paris sprawled below, expanding all the way to the horizon. The Eiffel Tower protrudes into the skyline, towering high above anything else in the city.

Montmarte is a place I love to come due to its ambiance of serenity above the bustling city below. Though it is brimming with other tourists it is easy to find a quiet park that still boasts magnificent views.

While Jackie shops I get to enjoy a nice cafe latte (my drink of choice on this trip), watch the people wander by, and enjoy a warm summer day in beautiful Paris.

Since we were nearby, we wandered down to Paris's Redlight District to view the famous Moulon Rouge. A few pictures then we headed off to meet with our CouchSurfing host.

Paris is for Lovers

For our second day in Paris we took another of the wonderful Sandelman's free tours, given in a number of European cities. The guide was actually English, but was very knowledgeable on the city and its history. He took us by Notre Dame, stolled along the river Sien, showed us the special short-line entry to get into the Louvre (go to the metro station entrance for the museum) and walked us along the Chance Elysse by the Obelisk and up to the Hotel Invalides. I really enjoy tours because, while the buildings are beautiful, I like to know the stories behind them as well.

We also passed over what is called the Artists Bridge, leading from the left bank of the river to the right. On this bridge our guide pointed out the hundreds of locks that hung from the fencing on the bridge. This, he told us is something that lovers do. They come to the bridge and lock the lock to the fence, relating it to the love of their heart being forever locked on the person they are with. To increase the dramatics they then throw the key into the river, showing that like the lock their love will never be undone.

What was really good though was that some of the locks needed not a key but a combination :)

We later ventured into and through Notre Dame, a key symbol of gothic architecture. It was pretty and the stained glass was incredible but I think I've seen churches far more stunning. This church however is in the childhood memories of many because of Disney's Hunchback and it has free admission! We then made our way to the Latin District (so called because a very old university was originally located there at which all who were affiliated spoke only Latin, hence Latin district).

With another delicious bottle of french wine and a new cheese, we wandered to a small courtyard to enjoy and relax our tired legs. The bottle opener we bought is a little old-school (no lever to use) so we at first struggled to get it open and a nice French couple (nice, crazy right?) offered to help us out. But for me after a year of Nora-style wine opening (using the blunt end of a paint brush to push the cork into the bottle) I have some wine-opening skill and was able to take care of it.

Enjoying our conversation and the wine, two Canadian gentleman came and asked if we happened to have any cups...or a corkscrew. We shared one of our 'acquired' plastic cups and ended up spending the evening going around with our newly formed North American crew. Its amazing how the most broad things give people a sense of common identity when abroad.

Perfectly French

Paris is just absolutely beautiful. Though the weather hasn't yet been ideal, the intricacies of the architecture and the detail paid to every structure creates a feeling of well-cared for beauty. Even amidst confused crossing streets that intersect round-a-bouts the city holds its image of beauty.

The thing is though that Parisians are not particularly nice. Or nice at all in a majority of cases. Having been here before I knew to brace myself for slow service and when it did come to not expect it to be very nice. What is it about Paris that has trained the people to be so off-handedly rude? Now, I have some very good friends from this city who are absolutely wonderful and kind and friendly, so I presume the unkindness is only to those people who the Parisians see as not belonging. Particularly Americans. So be sure when you come to Paris to be patient but assertive when attention is paid. And if they're rude it's not you, it's them.

Getting into Paris in the evening, we found our way to the house of Sebastian, our host through Couchsurfing. He hosts loads of people at a time (5 total when we arrived and 7 now) on an array of pull-out couches and mattresses. After settling in his roommate made us a perfect French meal; crepes with ham and cheese, followed by desert of crepes and nutella. Yum!

The first day in Paris we made our way from the house into the city where I met with another UCSD alumni, Martin. He graduated in 1993 with a degree in German Literature, and after a number of years working in investment banking his company moved him to their Paris branch where he has now worked for five years. Over a delicious lunch including a goat-cheese sandwich, salad and ___ I got to hear about his time in a fraternity and his love for the beauty of the campus.

I had about an hour before I met up with Jackie so I wandered the streets, peaking into deli's and shops and admiring the quiet of the sidestreets. Meeting with Jackie, we found a bottle of wine and some nice French cheese (its very hard to choose cheese here because most types are ones we've never heard of and the labels are all in French!). Then we sat on the lawn of Trocadero by the fountain and enjoyed our snack with a beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower.

A perfect first day in Paris!

Wandering: It's in the details

I feel like my philosophy on the way to visit cities has been proved again and again. Just wander. Have points you want to see, yes. But don't be one of those tourists that schedules out various stops and then hurries through them or takes the metro to get to the next stop. My way is to set 2 stops or so for the day, know what sights might be along your way in between them, and then wander!

And the great thing is that while you wander without pressure to be in any one place you notice so many of the small details of the city in its everyday state. You can watch in amazement as the cars swerve and navigate around the crazy roundabout round the arc de triumph. The grey brick slated rooftops of every building, or the intricate cast-iron trellises with their swirling patterns that so beautifully decorate every balcony. Everything here is just so beautiful.

And yes, many people come and admire the intricacies at places like Notre Dam, but honestly I feel that so many simply look at it as a place to say they've been. have you ever seen a picture of the cathedral from one of the sides?

So I ask you when you travel no matter the city. Just wander. Do you want to glance at it all or really see and get experiences at a few places and all the randoms in between. I obviously prefer the latter!

So look at the streets you walk on and see the way they're worn, sit in a garden and be present to the things you see, feel, and hear around you.

Writing on Amsterdam and Paris soon to come!

CouchSurfing Waterloo and Namur

When we first arrived in Brussels we had been expecting (hoping) to CouchSurf. Unfortunately we had had no luck and so we stayed in a hotel. Once we already were welcomed to stay with Brad, one Belgian had offered to try and help us out and found the couch of one of his friends for us to stay on. Since it was no longer needed we decided we'd try to hang out at some point instead.

We met with Kevin our first night in town in the Grand Plaza. We happened to be having a drink just across the way from he and his other couchsurfing guests so we all came together at a bar with some great live music. That night we had to get back early but we promised the group that we'd meet up the next night. And we kept meeting up but having to go due to early tram closures in the city, so for our final night we decided to crash at his (thereby he hosted 4 couchsurfers in his 1-room flat). Pretty amazing guy to let strangers take over his place!

On Saturday Kevin had the day off (he works as a sports editor for a media group) so he offered to take us all on a road trip out of the city. We packed into his little car and with windows down and the music blasting we were on a quick European roadtrip.

After about 20 U-turns and a few extra loops around round-abouts we got to the memorial site at Waterloo. A gigantic conic-shaped mound with a large lion (facing toward France as a symbol of pride for winning) marks the spot of the battle. For €6 you get to walk up about 300 stairs to the top of the mound where you get some sweeping views of the surrounding countryside.

Next we drove to Namur, the capital city of the Wallonia province in Brussels. Namur has a large fortress atop one of its largest hills that we decided to go for a wander through. A Huge brick place, even getting there along the main entry road would have posed many challenges for an attacker as it cuts back and forth with brick walls looming on either side. It was quite a hike up to the top to get some sweeping views of the town. In Namur the roofs are made of a unique rock so they all sheen with a blackness that is unlike most things I've seen here.

Venturing down from the fortress, we walked through town and came upon a beach (sand) volleyball tournament in front of a large cathedral. They offered food and drink so presuming it would be a cheap meal we went and dug in to some sausages and fries while watching some locals hit the ball around on the court.

After some more wandering we made our way back to Brussels where we napped before going out on our last night in Brussels. We took it easy of course as the next day we woke up really early to catch our train to Amsterdam!

In Brugge

As per the advice from the Murray family of Dublin, when venturing to Brussels a day trip to Bruge is a must.

Using our Eurail pass for the first time on the trip, we hopped on the metro that would take us to the Noord (North) station where we could hop on one of the hourly trains to Brugge. On a very full train we barely found seats and managed to get in a nap on the way.

After about an hour we arrived at the station and with the horde of other tourists we crowded our way down the tiny brick lanes to see the city.

Every thing here feels miniature. None of the buildings are more than three short stories high and the streets barely allow a single small European car through. The buildings have a mix of material from white stone slabs to brick, but the step-roof architecture prevails as a symbol of the city.

In Brugge one feels comfortable and cozy. Its a rather large town (about 100,000 residents) but is so tightly compacted around the city center and the canals that one could walk a majority of the streets in a day.

Bicycles bounce along the cobbled streets next to small cars and horse-drawn carriages while walkers use both the sidewalks and streets to make their way, dodging the oncoming four-wheeled vehicles that challenged them. Renting a bike would have been a good idea and it was only €4 an hour. Instead we decided on the €6 1/2 hour boat tour through the canals of the city. We went under the most shallow bridge in the city and listened in Dutch, French and English to the history of the city's architecture and canal system.

After the boat tour we decided to wander our way down the narrow and haphazard streets back to an area we saw from the boat that contained beautiful restaurants and an old fish-market turned jewelry bazaar. Of course we had no idea where we were going and ended up aimlessley wandering the streets until we figured we should ask to be pointed the right way.

But on the note of wandering aimlessly, I've decided that is the absolute best way to see a city. Marking out exact places to see and the routes you'll take to them while trying to balance time and pleasure just makes a mess of a day. Usually you get lost at some point, and that leads to stress and you feel like you're missing out on something then when you finally arrive you're frustrated and tired and stressed and definitely not going to enjoy it as much. But choose 1 or 2 places and allow yourself to get lost and wander between them and you'll have a superb time. Not only do you then stumble upon sights you would never have thought to go see, when you do find the right place its like a gift you weren't expecting. A true treasure rather than a stop on the map.

So that's how we did Bruge. We wandered the beautiful streets, came upon the beautiful main square in perfect timing for a capuccino break, then wandered our way throughout the streets admiring the unique architecture and just feeling the city. Doing this we always wind up in random local housing areas but in those we get to see the real people of the city, making it more than an area swarming with tourists.

We stopped in at a number of churches including Federatie Sint-Donatianus, one of the 10 Brugse parochies and we stopped at a hostel for a few delicious Belgian beers and some fun conversations about the city of Brugge in comparison to Brussels.

Throughout the day Brugge showed itself to be a beautiful city with many quaint streets to wander throughout. It has great character and in the back alleys some great places for food, drink, and conversation. The main areas are very touristy and expensive but it was a great day trip!

Lovely Bristol

A lovely city situated on some quite steep hills was our next stop along the trip and a delight after our crazy experience on the train to get there. This city is seriously hilly, making it a pain for biking and waking but allowing some beautiful views of the surrounding city. Known for having the first suspension bridge and being the location of most of England's cider production, we didn't really know what we were in for with Matt.

It was Matts night to make dinner for the house (they each cook for the group on a rotating system), so we settled in and helped roll meatballs and stir the sauce for spaghetti bolognas. Matt lives in a huge house with four of his Chemistry friends from the University of Bristol, a house which used to be an old folks home. This fact is noticeable from the placard by the front door that welcomes you to "a friendly place for the aged", to the red emergency strings hanging by the toilets, and of course to the fact that all the showers were handicap accessible. One thing that was strange though was that for all the precautions around the house there were a Massive number of stairs! Stairs down to the kitchen, stairs up to the bathroom, and a good 3 floors worth to get to Matt's bedroom (which Jackie and I over-took for the few days we were there thanks again Matt!).

After that first lovely dinner with the flat mates we took the evening to relax and enjoy some wine with new and old friends. Those chemists were an interesting bunch, with talk straying from politics to how to make household items explode by combining certain chemicals. Oh and also the age-old argument over the pronunciation of "aluminum" (there said "aluminium", that extra I being the kicker).

The next day took us on foot around the city. With Heather we went to the Bristol Museum and Art Gallery (which holds the most unusual arrangement of items: fossils, a new-age American art exhibit, gemstones, an old biplane airplane). Then we of course had to go and see Matt's lab where he's working on re-creating the virus that lead to the Irish Potato famine.

The next day brought us out in the semi-sun to a music festival along the docs. We wandered around the fair-like event looking at the wares of local vendors and trying to find something good to eat. With food in hand we headed to a large square to meet with a friend Maz and her boyfriend and lie around. With music in the background and free Bulmers cider being given out we spent the day exactly as one should on an English summer day, laying around in the park listening to music and talking with friends.

One of the other great things about the English summertime are the weekend "stag" and "hen" parties (bachelor and bachelorette). Now we all have our conception of what these events are usually like; cigars and booze or funny gag gifts given at a party. Well in England they are a quite public affair including "fancy dress" (think Halloween costumes) and bar crawls. Usually the one to be married has the most interesting attire but the packs of people usually have a theme. That night we saw Elvis's, prisoners, Where's Waldo, the Virgin Mary, old ladies, contraceptive paraphernalia, and much much more. So in the evening we managed a perfect spot at the bar to get to see all of these groups passing by. Jackie made a project of it to jump up and go take a picture of each group that passed by. What funny things they do in England :)

Brussels-Random hotel, alumni, waffles and beer

When we first got into Brussels, we didn't have a for sure place to stay so we booked a hotel from one of those discount hotel websites and hoped for the best. Without too much trouble we navigated the public transportation system and with a signal from the tram driver we got off at our stop for the night, Ste Marie. We somewhat aimlessly made our way through a slightly sketchy square in which groups of old men sat around drinking, smoking, and casting us knowing glances. Yes, we didn't know where we were or what we were getting ourselves into.

Somehow we managed to find the Albert Hotel and climbed the 6 flights of spiral stairs to reach our room. And it was actually pretty nice! We had a great view of the street and a beautiful old church. Starved we dropped our bags and wandered back through the square, uncomfortably ignoring the old men stares until we found a kebab shop at which we could order some food. At a little local market we then picked up breakfast snacks and were taught some basic French and Dutch phrases by the shop-owner before we turned in for the night.

Day 2 in Brussels started out with a very nice alumni interview in the main square. I met with Brad, a Muir student from 1984 who created his own major and now has a private law practice working with non-profits. Over a latte and espresso Brad shared his memories of the wooded campus and the not-so-central library. Then when I explained that we were going to find a spot to camp for the next few nights because other arrangements fell through he invited us to couch surf at his house! It was really great of him and a wonderful break for us!

We moved our bags into his place then gave Brussels another chance. This time we found the main square, a place of superb architecture and exquisite cuisine (well if you call frites and waffles cuisine ;). There we wandered the streets, took pictures, and then stopped to enjoy some of the fine Belgian food and drink.

And YUM it was so good. The waffles are like heaven, thick, richly golden colored and sweetened perfectly. But then you add butterscotch ice cream and I was, without a doubt, in food heaven. These waffles were Perfect, so so so very incredibly good. If you ever go to Brussels stop in at the "Australia" waffle place and get a scoop of ice cream. We did it at least twice each day.

Then there's Belgian beer. Another complete YUM! Remniscent of a wheat beer, Belgian beers descend from the monasteries of years past when Monks would spend their days between prayer and ensuring the hops were being brewed properly. Now in the states my friend Ben introduced me to my first Belgian beer (it immediately became my favorite) and anywhere I go for drinks I hope they have it. So to be in a place where that's all they serve-well it was fantastic! With so many days I got to try so so many different types and I must say that if you want a Belgian beer go with one by Delirium :)