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 :)

Biking from Bristol to Bath

Bath, the thing you take when you fill up a large porcelain tub with water. The first of what we now know as baths were taken during the time of the Romans in England. It was from the large Roman baths constructed in the area that our destination town and what we call the bath tub is named after :)

Matt had taken the journey a few times before and explained how it was a 15 mile journey along a paved road that was nice and flat because it used to be a railroad track. The path was really gorgeous, with sweeping willows that would brush along you as you rode and blackberry bushes galore with an array of fruit ready to be picked and eaten (there is so much wild fruit growing in England in parks and just anywhere outdoors, its great because anyone can pick and eat them!)

After a few water and stretch breaks (the rented bicycle seats were extremely uncomfortable) we arrived in Bath, a town of remarkable architectural uniformity. Building are made both from the same stone and in the same style and while that could get boring (I'm thinking American cardboard box/track houses) these buildings were pretty magnificent.

We biked through town and down a number of side streets too small for cars to pass through in search of a good place to have lunch and arrived at a large restaurant with views of the wooded hillsides speckled with the beautiful white buildings of the town and a vast park (that charged everyone but residents to get in!).

As far as English food goes, I actually am a pretty big fan of most dishes. They really fit with the weather I that they are hearty, with lots of potatoes and a lot of thick, stew-like dishes. I'm particularly fond of the pies (think pot-pie in the US) and had an awesome one at the restaurant in Bath.

After some perusing around the outskirts of the park and a lie-down in a grassy city square, we hopped back on the bikes to get back to Bristol. We had to play some bike musical chairs as Jackie was having a tough time because her seat was really uncomfortable but the seat was too low for Matthew, resulting in the three of us swapping out bikes every few miles along the way back.

Once home, Matt and Jackie were totally tuckered out while I was still good to go due to my love of biking and exercise of any sort. I did a bit of yoga while the other to couched it then cooked up a big dinner to share.

Tired from a good long day of physical exertion we got cozy and watched No Country for Old Men (excessively violent and not something I would recommend) before resting up for our next bit of travel the following day.

Breakfast, Buckingham Palace, Alumni interview, Chunnel

Waking up to our last few hours in Bristol we packed our bags and headed off to breakfast with our newly made friend Heather. First dropping off our bikes, we went and had a delicious English breakfast before grabbing a train to London.

Once in London we stopped quickly by Covent Garden then decided to walk our way down to Green Park, a place I spent many lunch-times and afternoons two years ago when I worked in the area. With our heavy backpacks we lounged around a bit before I realized we were near Buckingham Palace, a place we didn't visit and so Jackie had never seen (and if you're in London you must see Buckingham Palace right?)

After some pictures there we made our way with a decent walk to Victoria station where we could catch a line out to Ed's new apartment.

He chauffeured us from the station and brought us to his awesome new flat (he moved since the last time we were in London) where we proceeded to watch the movie The A-Team (only watch this if you'd like to watch what seems like a movie composed entirely of fast-paced action-filled movie trailers that you'd see on tv) and ordered some delicious Indian food.

The next day, I arranged to meet with Delphine, a UCSD alumna of Muir College since 1983. The day after she graduated, Delphine used her French residency (from her mothers heritage) to move to Paris where she worked in fashion and makeup for a number of years. After a while she decided to get a MBA from the London Business School and from that she moved into her current field of Management Development.

We both had to get running and I hopped on the tube, met Jackie at the Covent Garden platform and made our way to the Eurostar part of St. Pancreas station to hop on the train to Brussels. (Yup, a train to cross the English channel, going through the tunnel underneath the water, sometimes referred to as the "Chunnel" (channel+tunnel, get it?)
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Friendly beats Non-refundable

It seems like every time I hang out with Tom from Leeds, something in the transit somehow goes wrong. A flight is delayed, a train is missed, or a reservation accidentally wasn't made. Well, on our way to the station in Manchester for a train to Bristol, I managed to misplace our non-refundable tickets that had to be printed from a computer. I of course figured that it would be easy to just reprint them somehow at the station, but alas the part that said they had to be printed and in hand was correct.

So, as with what always happens with Tom we arrived at the station with about 10 minutes to get to our train platform and went straight to the ticket counter to see what we could do about having tickets reprinted. Of course the self-service machine only had record of our later trip back to London (and subsequently printed those tickets, so we had to be sure not to loose them). The guys at the help station counter pretty much told us we'd have to get new tickets and after they finally understood I could access them on a computer they pointed me out of the station and mumbled something about a post office with computers I could try.

Leaving Jackie in the station with our bags I sprinted out of the station and ran down the street looking for a shop that might let me borrow a computer and printer. I finally came across a place and jumped on the computer. Of course when I clicked on the file to open the tickets it didn't work, I asked the annoyed attendant for help and received a roll of the eyes, so I tried a number of tricks I've acquired over the years to confuse the computer into working. Finally it did and, ready to run out the annoyed lady told me it was £2 for printing 2 pieces of paper. (So frustrating!)

I ran back to the station and swung the bag onto my shoulder and Jackie and I ran to our platform...2 minutes after the train had departed.

I went up to a random platform attendant and he suggested we take a train to Birmingham and then switch to go to Bristol, implying it wouldn't be an issue. On board when the attendant came by, I explained that we had some ticket and platform confusion and that a platform attendant said it wouldn't be an issue for us to take this train.

Kneeling down with our paper ticket in his hand the gentelman pointed out amongst the fine print the statement "ticket is not valid on any other train or at any other time". We were looking at a £50 ticket each to cover the new journey we were taking. This guy was feeling nice though because he took the ticket and said he'd see what he could do.

About 5 minutes before our arrival in Birmingham he came back with the tickets and had written on it to allow us on this train and a subsequent train to Bristol.

We got into the platform and showed a new attendant the note and asked which platform the train would leave from. It was #9, we were at #2. And our train was 12 minutes late in an original layover period of 15 minutes. The attendant explained that the new platform was at least a ten minute walk away so I grabbed the tickets back and told Jackie to run.

Running is not particularly easy in flip flops with a big backpack in a crowded station. We found the platform and ran down the stairs, the doors on the train to our right were closing so we lunged onboard, hoping that we had made it on the correct train.

And we had. With no seat reservation we had a hard time locating seats near each other, but out of breath and a little worried we were on board and perfectly happy about that.

Phew it was a crazy one!!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Manchester-Cigarettes, Couchsurfing, and a Great Library

I had no clue what to expect of Manchester except for the descriptions that my friend Phil gave me while he was on his year in America. Industrial. And no I did not smoke any of the mentioned cigarettes, it was just that the city seems to be host to a smoking competition between those who lived there.

We got into Manchester pretty late, went out for a nice dinner with Tom (same Tom we met with in Edinburgh) and planned to make a day of things on Saturday. So with an early start on Saturday we first had to move out of Tom's house and into our first CouchSurfing experience! And an experience it was. Our host was a really nice guy originally from Sweden who had been in Manchester for a few months and was previously CouchSurfing around Asia. He was able to give us a good tour of the town before heading off to take care of his own business. We went to a Manchester CouchSurfing movie and debate night and watched a film about gang violence in Rio and got to meet a good number of other travelers) If you'd like more of that story please feel free to ask.

But for Manchester, other than the cigarette smoke, it was lovely (and for an industrial powerhouse it was not what I had imagined). The city has kept up with its UK counterparts in having a good amount of truly incredible architecture. Tall and tightly stacked buildings of the same light stone (I think it's white sandstone?) that is the preeminent building material across England. It has an incredible town hall that at the time was the backdrop to the Manchester Jazz Festival (which I got to watch a bit of).

And then there was the library. The John Rylands Library. One of the days of wandering around, I had heard great things about their library so I ventured off to have a look. It was in a building reminiscent of the cathedrals that are scattered around the country, but instead of religion it held Books! I was totally in heaven.

I made my way up to the third floor reading room up stairs lit by what one would assume would be candles because of the warm glow. The reading room was a large wooden hall with cabinets three floors high of old, well-worn books. To each side were rooms with the most perfect study tables-really deep with lots of room to spread out random papers. I honestly think I would have spent all of my study time there had it been an option, as well as any other time that I wanted to be in a cozy and quiet space.

I got to watch some music at the Jazz Festival, the Jeni Lamb Quintet before we made our way back to our place to sleep for the night before we left for Bristol.

Ghost Tours, Arhtur's Saddle, and Street performers

For day 12 and our second day in Edinburgh we wandered around even more of the beautiful city. Princess Street is the main high road which has tons of shops, Scottish tourist stops, and even some street performers!

There were a few cool food shops and we stopped in to get some cheese and then later some delicious fudge (this stuff was incredible!)

After the shops we were persuaded to stop and watch a Polish street performer who enticed us with talks of sword swallowing, 10 foot high unicycle riding, juggling while on a "rola-bola" (oh if only you could hear his voice as he exclaimed how tough it was to ride his "rola bola", which was essentially a 3 foot long board that he balanced on a can on the floor). While his explanation of his stunts weren't spectacular and the tricks were somewhat ordinary, the crowd couldn't help to like the guy. And guess what...I got picked to help him out with tricks from the audience!

First he handed me three squishy red balls and had me tell the crows how many there were. Then he did a bunch of magical hand games making the balls multiply and disappear and I honestly had no idea how he was doing it (he even had his sleeves rolled up!) Then he asked me to hold his fire juggling sticks for a while as he got assistance from two men in the audience so he could mount the gigantic unicycle. Once there, he tossed me his lighter with the instructions to light the juggling sticks and then throw them to him! After the first successful light and throw he decided I had tossed him the wrong one. So after about 5 tries he finally had his flaming juggling sticks and let me go back to the audience with a round of applause. It was so fun!

Later we decided to do a hike up to Arthurs Saddle, a large hill outside of the city with some spectacular views. After the hike, we made our way down the backside of the mountain to have a Sunday roast at the oldest pub in Edinburgh, the Sheep Head Inn.

We also got to spend some time at Calton Hill, another hillside with superb views of the city and the castle, and definitely well worth the short treck up some steep stairs. At the top are some Romanesque ruins and other interesting buildings that make for a great place to lounge around while seeing the views.

Edinburgh is also known for it's haunted underground tunnels, so we had an evening tour of the tunnels which was interesting, and somewhat cheesy. But the history was interesting as the tunnels were originally built because of the immense overcrowding in the city. So they were devised as storage places and shops, but due to wars and other misfortunes they eventually became a place for the homeless and down-and-out.