8/01 Bruges, We Hardly Knew Yee
Bruges was a quaint place, but that's all i really have to say quaint. There is not much to do, and there are tourists everywhere. Plus, we were going to stay with someone we met at the hostel in Venice, but he didn't respond, so we had to rush and find a hostel. It all worked out but the hostel was like a converted hospital, not very conducive to having fun. Maybe I will come back when I have more money and can stay in a nicer place. But its no Venice of the North.
8/02 I AMSTERDAM
Not much to write, not because nothing happend, but I am pretty sure writing about it is a crime.
8/03 Hola Chicas!
This is why you travel. To find fun people and hang out. The Brazilians were the funniest people we have met the whole trip. They even made the tram ride to the Van Gogh museum fun.
8/04 Hostel #2
Glad we changed hostels, this one is cheaper, nicer, and has a coffeeshop downstairs.
8/05 Don’t be a buzkill… bicycles they are everywhere
These Brits arent as fun as they said they would be, but maybe thats a good thing. Maybe we need to slow our adventure down a bit. The free tour was great. Four hours, great guide, tons of information and stories. A perfect end to our Amsterdam trip.
8/06 I am a donut! (Ich bin ein Berliner)
I wish we could spend more than a day in Berlin. I can definetly tell I want to come back. The Holocaust and Berlin wall memorials were very moving. Its hard to imagine all the pain those people went through. And for what?
8/07 Sweden here we come
Four hours standing on a crowded train. At least I will get a home cooked meal tonight. The trip is done. I feel no regret or sadness, because I know a new adventure is about to begin.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Paris '09
7/27/09 I Feel Much Cleaner After It Rains
Walking off the train platform and into the station, I could immediately feel a change. It was quieter, more relaxed, and more importantly we weren’t being baked alive. 5 days in Paris seems so miniscule and insignificant as I remember back to AP Euro and the 100’s of years of history this city holds. It will be really nice to stay with Tim, I can tell already. He is so warm and willing to show us a city he says is arguably the most stunning on Earth. Almost as soon as we arrive at Tim’s it began to rain. I saw the rain not as an unfortunate low-pressure system that will ruin my trip, but that Paris will act as a clean slate for me to restart my trip on. We spent a few hours walking around; we saw the Louvre, Bastille, Champ-Elyse, and Arch de Triumph. All but the infamous tower. We came back for a nap, which was needed by all, then spent the night with Tim and his friends. Wine, falafel, wonderful people, and a city where dreams come true. This will be a great 5 days.
7/28/09 Oh, False One You Have Deceived Me
Today was one of those days where you can’t really prove anything got done, but it was filled with adventure. It seems like everything we planned for the day didn’t happen. Go to a church, funeral. Go to another church, funeral. Pantheon, no go. And the coup de grace, fika, the Swedish wonder word. It put its roots in Paris, but nej, it too was closed. But walking around Paris with a bunch of “locals” really made it worthwhile. Paris, unlike Rome, had integrated well their historical past and bustling modern city. You can still feel the revolution in every cobblestone, brick and park. After some time walking around, we headed back to the apartment to eat and recoup, for the night held prospects of a free boat tour on the Seine, and indeed it did. I always like taking a less travelled, more abstract route through a city, especially one as multi faceted as the city of lights. We meandered under bridges and past canals as the city floated by beside us. We then headed to Rachel and Becca’s apartment to stock up and head out to the bar. The rest of the night was a midnight feast of conversation and booze, the ultimate mix.
7/29/09 Drink and You Will Believe
I don’t really feel that I am in Paris, but rather in some comforting place with a bunch of people that I am just hanging with and having a good time. We spent the first half of the day relaxing, waiting to go check into our hostel. I love that in Europe not only does it stay light out longer, but if the first thing you do is t 2 o’clock you still have a full day ahead. We got to the hostel, checked in, and took care of some travel administration duties at the train station. Then we were off to the Lourve. You want to talk about massive, the Lourve makes me feel like an ant. Not just because of the sheer size of the place, but the expanse of time the art covers, from antiquity to modern. On top of it all I got in for free because of a law making French sights free to EU citizens, 18-26. Thank you Monsieur Sarkozy.
7/30/09 Lets See The Sights
Paris really is a magical city more so than Rome, in that it blends old with new harmoniously, and in a way that still protects its history. The history is really what I'm here for. Winnie’s AP class was the perfect intro. I’m so glad I took the time and put in the work to take the class. I am sitting in a ark right next to Eiffel’s tower, and interestingly enough the height and age do nothing for me. It is the reminiscence of the Hollywood sign that causes me to be taken aback, For, with both, when you find a place with a good view of the whole thing, no pictures, and when good picture taking opportunities come about, alas. No view. I’m not sure if I am homesick or have no other reference point. It is definitely becoming apparent to met hat 1 year is a long time. I have done so much, seen so many sights, and met so many people in 14 days I cant even begin to imagine what a year will be like. Certainly not bad, but long. I wonder, as I travel around with a group of other people, will I get the same exciting-button pushing-wonder filled – annoyed experience you get when you travel with just one person. I guess I will find out soon.
7/31/09 It Was All A Dream
Thank god the day is over. 90% of the day was absolutely fine. It was the other 10% that ruined the rest. We, or rather I, planned a day trip to Versailles today. Train=perfect, tickets and bag check= a breeze, chateau= thumbs up, free exhibit= nice, bag pick up= ape shit crazy. First I go to get my bag, its closed for a security scare. Finally get in, guess what’s missing from the backpack? The bag with checks, U.S. passport, and Eurail pass. Who knew checking your valuables into a secure bag holding system instead of carrying them on your fanny for all to see was not the safe and secure one. Lo and behold its not there, 45 minutes of searching and blame, still not there. I got to the Lost and Found, no go. Luckily two hours later after leaving and calming down, it is found. I’m not holding any grudges, but I think the beast behind the counter could have been nicer and maybe be sympathetic before blaming me and gossiping about it in French. Excuse me, I know what “touriste’ + eye roll equals. All I know is now this zippered monstrosity never leaves my side. Sorry sun king, I don’t know if I can look at you the same anymore. Well a nice decompression at the hostel should help.
Walking off the train platform and into the station, I could immediately feel a change. It was quieter, more relaxed, and more importantly we weren’t being baked alive. 5 days in Paris seems so miniscule and insignificant as I remember back to AP Euro and the 100’s of years of history this city holds. It will be really nice to stay with Tim, I can tell already. He is so warm and willing to show us a city he says is arguably the most stunning on Earth. Almost as soon as we arrive at Tim’s it began to rain. I saw the rain not as an unfortunate low-pressure system that will ruin my trip, but that Paris will act as a clean slate for me to restart my trip on. We spent a few hours walking around; we saw the Louvre, Bastille, Champ-Elyse, and Arch de Triumph. All but the infamous tower. We came back for a nap, which was needed by all, then spent the night with Tim and his friends. Wine, falafel, wonderful people, and a city where dreams come true. This will be a great 5 days.
7/28/09 Oh, False One You Have Deceived Me
Today was one of those days where you can’t really prove anything got done, but it was filled with adventure. It seems like everything we planned for the day didn’t happen. Go to a church, funeral. Go to another church, funeral. Pantheon, no go. And the coup de grace, fika, the Swedish wonder word. It put its roots in Paris, but nej, it too was closed. But walking around Paris with a bunch of “locals” really made it worthwhile. Paris, unlike Rome, had integrated well their historical past and bustling modern city. You can still feel the revolution in every cobblestone, brick and park. After some time walking around, we headed back to the apartment to eat and recoup, for the night held prospects of a free boat tour on the Seine, and indeed it did. I always like taking a less travelled, more abstract route through a city, especially one as multi faceted as the city of lights. We meandered under bridges and past canals as the city floated by beside us. We then headed to Rachel and Becca’s apartment to stock up and head out to the bar. The rest of the night was a midnight feast of conversation and booze, the ultimate mix.
7/29/09 Drink and You Will Believe
I don’t really feel that I am in Paris, but rather in some comforting place with a bunch of people that I am just hanging with and having a good time. We spent the first half of the day relaxing, waiting to go check into our hostel. I love that in Europe not only does it stay light out longer, but if the first thing you do is t 2 o’clock you still have a full day ahead. We got to the hostel, checked in, and took care of some travel administration duties at the train station. Then we were off to the Lourve. You want to talk about massive, the Lourve makes me feel like an ant. Not just because of the sheer size of the place, but the expanse of time the art covers, from antiquity to modern. On top of it all I got in for free because of a law making French sights free to EU citizens, 18-26. Thank you Monsieur Sarkozy.
7/30/09 Lets See The Sights
Paris really is a magical city more so than Rome, in that it blends old with new harmoniously, and in a way that still protects its history. The history is really what I'm here for. Winnie’s AP class was the perfect intro. I’m so glad I took the time and put in the work to take the class. I am sitting in a ark right next to Eiffel’s tower, and interestingly enough the height and age do nothing for me. It is the reminiscence of the Hollywood sign that causes me to be taken aback, For, with both, when you find a place with a good view of the whole thing, no pictures, and when good picture taking opportunities come about, alas. No view. I’m not sure if I am homesick or have no other reference point. It is definitely becoming apparent to met hat 1 year is a long time. I have done so much, seen so many sights, and met so many people in 14 days I cant even begin to imagine what a year will be like. Certainly not bad, but long. I wonder, as I travel around with a group of other people, will I get the same exciting-button pushing-wonder filled – annoyed experience you get when you travel with just one person. I guess I will find out soon.
7/31/09 It Was All A Dream
Thank god the day is over. 90% of the day was absolutely fine. It was the other 10% that ruined the rest. We, or rather I, planned a day trip to Versailles today. Train=perfect, tickets and bag check= a breeze, chateau= thumbs up, free exhibit= nice, bag pick up= ape shit crazy. First I go to get my bag, its closed for a security scare. Finally get in, guess what’s missing from the backpack? The bag with checks, U.S. passport, and Eurail pass. Who knew checking your valuables into a secure bag holding system instead of carrying them on your fanny for all to see was not the safe and secure one. Lo and behold its not there, 45 minutes of searching and blame, still not there. I got to the Lost and Found, no go. Luckily two hours later after leaving and calming down, it is found. I’m not holding any grudges, but I think the beast behind the counter could have been nicer and maybe be sympathetic before blaming me and gossiping about it in French. Excuse me, I know what “touriste’ + eye roll equals. All I know is now this zippered monstrosity never leaves my side. Sorry sun king, I don’t know if I can look at you the same anymore. Well a nice decompression at the hostel should help.
Rome '09
7/21/09 The Leaning Tower
Waking up two hours earlier than normal can certainly take a toll on you A 1.5 hour train ride felt like 3, and one of us had to stay awake, me. So even longer. We got to Pisa and it was a rush to see the tower and get back to the train in time. The tower was a bit underwhelming, either because it is exactly what it looks like in all the pictures, and it is not nearly as grandiose as some make it seem. It’s an old broken bell tower for Chris sakes. Our rush was unneeded because our train was an hour late, an hour spent leaning up against a vending machine reading a book. The train ride gave me some time to rest, but the constant humming of the train and the seemingly endless chatter of pre-teen Italian girls stymied any real chance I had. We got to Rome and headed straight for he hostel. A little place on the outskirts of Rome surrounded by apartment buildings and construction. As night came on, some of us from the hostel headed out for a Pub Crawl, a group of inebriated tourists being led from blub to blub, like sheep to pasture. For a price of 20 Euros you get unlimited drinks for an hour, a shot at each club, and a fun filled night. Dancing, Drinking, Dancing, and finally a late bus home. A good start to our Roman holiday
7/22/09 Oh what a night
9 a.m. sharp I was up and planning the day: Train tickets, Colosseum, and the Palatine Hill. Getting off the metro and seeing the Colosseum rising into the sky evoked such feelings of history and insignificance that I almost keeled over, and had to stop to steady myself. To be able to walk where Caesar and countless others have walked for thousands of years is quite odd. Rome is a bit of an enigma to me. A city that at its peak was the largest, most powerful in the world, only to be surpassed 100’s of years later by an industrial 1800’s London, is somehow not itself. Or at least doesn’t feel like the city I have read countless stories about. Kebab carts, tour busses, and apartment buildings punctuate the ancient skyline, while the ancient stone buildings sink behind the smog. I always pictured it less influenced by modern society than it actually is, but the ancient city is worth the traffic, heat, and hoards of tourists. The night was spent wandering the city streets in search of a club, only to be told the city closes down on Wednesdays. Every wrong turn, every dead end, and every wrong bus stop is but one more notch on the bedpost that is life.
7/23/09 The Cult of Personality
I wasn’t quite sure how the Vatican Museum would affect me. Besides the obvious fact that to me Jesus is just some guy in a book with a bunch of good morals, but because I have studied the history and know the corruption and false hope the Church has been responsible for. Never the less, our tour was spectacular. The price is a bit of a rip of, its not like the Church is desperate for funds I mean they have their own country, but it is definitely worth it. Our guide was this little, spunky, hippie lady fro, Northern California, who was able to bring a sense of relevancy to a lot of the pieces. The 100’s of rooms are covered ceiling to floor. Every inch, every centimeter an important part of history. You can’t even begin to describe Michelangelo’s genius. Every part of his work is filled with hidden meaning and jokery. I left the Sistine Chapel and Saint Peter’s Basilica in awe and shock. If this was all I saw in Rome, I would be merrily content. The history of art is relevant in every aspect of life, as is life relevant in every aspect of art. The mind’s constant chatter can only be stopped, by the soothing voice of an artist and his medium. Through art you can send messages to the future showing them you knew, long before they even thought of it.
7/24/09 Today we did…Uh?
Well as one must learn eventually, one mistake can lead to a day filled with nothing to do. When we booked our ticket to Paris we booked a day late. This meant we needed to spend our day waiting in line at the train station to try and fix the problem. Qué sera sera, what ever will be will be. We couldn’t change the date, but luckily we were able to book an extra night at the hostel. The rest of our day was spent lounging around until nightfall, when the fun would begin…for some. Unfortunately for me, some men just can’t hold their arsenic. My travel companion fits the stereotype of the eighteen-year-old American traveler too well. Loud, pushy, and lacking all but a drop of self-control. I ended up spending the nigh with two insanely drunk people, and two others who were in my boat. We were the shepherds, and they are sheep, but deep down I wished they were lemmings, so I would be out of work. But he’s an adult and will have to learn to take care of himself one way or another. I just hope he learns soon.
7/25/09 The Last Frontier
Today was our last real day in Rome, and perhaps the most productive one. We went sightseeing with some people in the hostel, and got to see almost all of Rome. We followed the winding streets of Rome from the tourist packed Spanish Steps, to the marble masterpiece that is La Fontana de Trevi, and finally to the Pantheon, an ancient and spectacular edifice. Rome as opposed to Venice or Florence isn’t really a place I want to wander. It is just too busy and fast to appreciate walking around. We walked over to a little market by the Pope’s fortress, which was nice because I got a little bit of time away from Zac. I wonder if my travel experience would differ if I were with someone that had little bit more interest in what we are doing and seeing. It’s not that he isn’t interested, but neutral on everything, so I feel he is sort of sucking out my energy, but as soon as I am around those who have a specific interest, I am refreshed. Maybe it will change when we are in Paris.
7/26/09 It’s Only Been Six Hours
We just happen to be leaving Rome the day its below 90º. God has a sick sense of humor. Even though we have a whole day left, it will be spent waiting in the train station, because of these backpacks, 45 pounds of my life stuffed in a bag. First though we got our laundry done. Sadly, I am more excited about the fact that I have a clean towel than the fact that we are going to Paris. And I’m pretty damn excited about going to Paris. Also, these clothes will last longer because we wont be sweating buckets anymore. I started a book this morning, and now I get on the train and I’m finished. The 7 hours went by fast, but now once again I have nothing to do. These empty days do me well, a day to recoup and forget past aggressions, as well as everyone’s transgressions.
Waking up two hours earlier than normal can certainly take a toll on you A 1.5 hour train ride felt like 3, and one of us had to stay awake, me. So even longer. We got to Pisa and it was a rush to see the tower and get back to the train in time. The tower was a bit underwhelming, either because it is exactly what it looks like in all the pictures, and it is not nearly as grandiose as some make it seem. It’s an old broken bell tower for Chris sakes. Our rush was unneeded because our train was an hour late, an hour spent leaning up against a vending machine reading a book. The train ride gave me some time to rest, but the constant humming of the train and the seemingly endless chatter of pre-teen Italian girls stymied any real chance I had. We got to Rome and headed straight for he hostel. A little place on the outskirts of Rome surrounded by apartment buildings and construction. As night came on, some of us from the hostel headed out for a Pub Crawl, a group of inebriated tourists being led from blub to blub, like sheep to pasture. For a price of 20 Euros you get unlimited drinks for an hour, a shot at each club, and a fun filled night. Dancing, Drinking, Dancing, and finally a late bus home. A good start to our Roman holiday
7/22/09 Oh what a night
9 a.m. sharp I was up and planning the day: Train tickets, Colosseum, and the Palatine Hill. Getting off the metro and seeing the Colosseum rising into the sky evoked such feelings of history and insignificance that I almost keeled over, and had to stop to steady myself. To be able to walk where Caesar and countless others have walked for thousands of years is quite odd. Rome is a bit of an enigma to me. A city that at its peak was the largest, most powerful in the world, only to be surpassed 100’s of years later by an industrial 1800’s London, is somehow not itself. Or at least doesn’t feel like the city I have read countless stories about. Kebab carts, tour busses, and apartment buildings punctuate the ancient skyline, while the ancient stone buildings sink behind the smog. I always pictured it less influenced by modern society than it actually is, but the ancient city is worth the traffic, heat, and hoards of tourists. The night was spent wandering the city streets in search of a club, only to be told the city closes down on Wednesdays. Every wrong turn, every dead end, and every wrong bus stop is but one more notch on the bedpost that is life.
7/23/09 The Cult of Personality
I wasn’t quite sure how the Vatican Museum would affect me. Besides the obvious fact that to me Jesus is just some guy in a book with a bunch of good morals, but because I have studied the history and know the corruption and false hope the Church has been responsible for. Never the less, our tour was spectacular. The price is a bit of a rip of, its not like the Church is desperate for funds I mean they have their own country, but it is definitely worth it. Our guide was this little, spunky, hippie lady fro, Northern California, who was able to bring a sense of relevancy to a lot of the pieces. The 100’s of rooms are covered ceiling to floor. Every inch, every centimeter an important part of history. You can’t even begin to describe Michelangelo’s genius. Every part of his work is filled with hidden meaning and jokery. I left the Sistine Chapel and Saint Peter’s Basilica in awe and shock. If this was all I saw in Rome, I would be merrily content. The history of art is relevant in every aspect of life, as is life relevant in every aspect of art. The mind’s constant chatter can only be stopped, by the soothing voice of an artist and his medium. Through art you can send messages to the future showing them you knew, long before they even thought of it.
7/24/09 Today we did…Uh?
Well as one must learn eventually, one mistake can lead to a day filled with nothing to do. When we booked our ticket to Paris we booked a day late. This meant we needed to spend our day waiting in line at the train station to try and fix the problem. Qué sera sera, what ever will be will be. We couldn’t change the date, but luckily we were able to book an extra night at the hostel. The rest of our day was spent lounging around until nightfall, when the fun would begin…for some. Unfortunately for me, some men just can’t hold their arsenic. My travel companion fits the stereotype of the eighteen-year-old American traveler too well. Loud, pushy, and lacking all but a drop of self-control. I ended up spending the nigh with two insanely drunk people, and two others who were in my boat. We were the shepherds, and they are sheep, but deep down I wished they were lemmings, so I would be out of work. But he’s an adult and will have to learn to take care of himself one way or another. I just hope he learns soon.
7/25/09 The Last Frontier
Today was our last real day in Rome, and perhaps the most productive one. We went sightseeing with some people in the hostel, and got to see almost all of Rome. We followed the winding streets of Rome from the tourist packed Spanish Steps, to the marble masterpiece that is La Fontana de Trevi, and finally to the Pantheon, an ancient and spectacular edifice. Rome as opposed to Venice or Florence isn’t really a place I want to wander. It is just too busy and fast to appreciate walking around. We walked over to a little market by the Pope’s fortress, which was nice because I got a little bit of time away from Zac. I wonder if my travel experience would differ if I were with someone that had little bit more interest in what we are doing and seeing. It’s not that he isn’t interested, but neutral on everything, so I feel he is sort of sucking out my energy, but as soon as I am around those who have a specific interest, I am refreshed. Maybe it will change when we are in Paris.
7/26/09 It’s Only Been Six Hours
We just happen to be leaving Rome the day its below 90º. God has a sick sense of humor. Even though we have a whole day left, it will be spent waiting in the train station, because of these backpacks, 45 pounds of my life stuffed in a bag. First though we got our laundry done. Sadly, I am more excited about the fact that I have a clean towel than the fact that we are going to Paris. And I’m pretty damn excited about going to Paris. Also, these clothes will last longer because we wont be sweating buckets anymore. I started a book this morning, and now I get on the train and I’m finished. The 7 hours went by fast, but now once again I have nothing to do. These empty days do me well, a day to recoup and forget past aggressions, as well as everyone’s transgressions.
Florence '09
7/19/09 Stuck In A Grove
A seemingly easy morning led to 2 hours in the train station, sitting in the wrong seats, and a bunch if walking. When we arrived at our hostel in Florence, I was completely taken aback. A little hostel community, in an ancient grove of olive trees, overlooking the stunning view of Florence. Once we settled in Zac collapsed into a comatose state, only to be awoken 4 hours later. I took this unique opportunity to sit and absorb my surroundings. As a breeze rolled through the trees and over the hill, I could feel the transcendent beauty and history coursing through my veins. Something uniquely European. As the night surreptitiously approached we left with some Americans, the tent down, to find dinner. And did we ever. The widely accepted myth, that when travelling cheaply you trade in flavor for price, was shattered tonight. Ostedia de Pacci, a small, eclectic, family run restaurant could easily be missed. That would be a big mistake. Taking a hint from our waiter, I ordered, Ravioli perre con pecorino. The butter basted freshly made pasta dough, was covered with sautéed radicchio and garlic, and filled with the perfect blend of cheeses. My normal voracious, and somewhat haphazard, eating was replaced with an almost surgeon like precision and priestly patience. Time slowed. No speech, no thoughts, just utter bliss. The meal would have been worth all my money, luckily it wasn’t. We soon left the gastronomic heaven for a bottle of wine and midnight tour of the city. Florence I have caught your bug.
7/20/09 O, David Where Art Thou?
Going to Florence and not seeing the David is like going to Boston and not seeing a Red Sox Fan. Everyone does. The one difference being one generally wants to see the David. We did see almost everything else in Florence. When you get to see it at night with no one around as we were able to do, and then stuffed with tourists, you really see two sides to the city. Florence is an incredibly small city. You can walk from one end to the other in less than an hour. The city exudes more of a “modern city” feel, and it really stands out in the day. When you see Il Duomo, an ancient masterpiece, next to cars and stands selling t-shirts telling you that you love Florence, you really notice a city with two lives.
A seemingly easy morning led to 2 hours in the train station, sitting in the wrong seats, and a bunch if walking. When we arrived at our hostel in Florence, I was completely taken aback. A little hostel community, in an ancient grove of olive trees, overlooking the stunning view of Florence. Once we settled in Zac collapsed into a comatose state, only to be awoken 4 hours later. I took this unique opportunity to sit and absorb my surroundings. As a breeze rolled through the trees and over the hill, I could feel the transcendent beauty and history coursing through my veins. Something uniquely European. As the night surreptitiously approached we left with some Americans, the tent down, to find dinner. And did we ever. The widely accepted myth, that when travelling cheaply you trade in flavor for price, was shattered tonight. Ostedia de Pacci, a small, eclectic, family run restaurant could easily be missed. That would be a big mistake. Taking a hint from our waiter, I ordered, Ravioli perre con pecorino. The butter basted freshly made pasta dough, was covered with sautéed radicchio and garlic, and filled with the perfect blend of cheeses. My normal voracious, and somewhat haphazard, eating was replaced with an almost surgeon like precision and priestly patience. Time slowed. No speech, no thoughts, just utter bliss. The meal would have been worth all my money, luckily it wasn’t. We soon left the gastronomic heaven for a bottle of wine and midnight tour of the city. Florence I have caught your bug.
7/20/09 O, David Where Art Thou?
Going to Florence and not seeing the David is like going to Boston and not seeing a Red Sox Fan. Everyone does. The one difference being one generally wants to see the David. We did see almost everything else in Florence. When you get to see it at night with no one around as we were able to do, and then stuffed with tourists, you really see two sides to the city. Florence is an incredibly small city. You can walk from one end to the other in less than an hour. The city exudes more of a “modern city” feel, and it really stands out in the day. When you see Il Duomo, an ancient masterpiece, next to cars and stands selling t-shirts telling you that you love Florence, you really notice a city with two lives.
Venice '09 photos
Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=140871&id=614390759&saved#/album.php?aid=140871&id=614390759
Italy (Venice)
7/16/09 You’re Not Lost If They Give You Bad Directions
We stepped off the plane only to be met by the sweltering Venetian summer. The stark contrast between cold recycled air and that of this rich city really made me realize: our adventure had begun. As soon as it began things began to go wrong. Our bus choice, #12, given to us by the hostel’s directions was the wrong one. In our triumphant youth we thought we’d be able to walk back and find the site. We were wrong. 2hrs, 100º, and a 30-euro taxi ride later, we arrived at our hostel. After a swim and settling in, we set off to Venezia. The contrast of hand carved stones and ancient brick against a backdrop of bright lights and diesel engines gives the city of art and trades an indescribable personality. To see tourists walking the masterfully laid stone streets, while locals yell from their windows is a testament to how the city has changed. Did the city’s architects and builders think that in just a few centuries their city of rebirth would be standing next to an airport and cruise ships? The city is certainly enchanting, and I'm sure even more so in the midday sun, and hotter as well. Now to rest these tired feet and prepare for tomorrow.
7/17/09 A Venice Fish
I did expect our time in Venice to be filled with losing our way and getting lost in its winding streets, but not nearly as much as this. We planned our day on going to San Marco and eating at a pizza place recommended by our book. We didn’t even get to San Marco. The maps seem to omit all warning of dead ends, street names and alleyways, this all leads to a search based solely on luck. By the time we found the pizza place we were ready to collapse. Carrying around a 40-pound backpack and 10 lb bag certainly drains you. We soon recuperated after some pizza and beer and went to find the hostel. That, thankfully, was not hard to find. The hostel is an old building on the canal that looks like it has seen both the rule of Nero and Mussolini. Sitting in the common room you meet a rag-tag team of hostellers. Young, old, from all over. Looking for a good time. The people we met were all so friendly and entertaining, and I was more than happy to spend a night out with them. Though there isn’t much in the way of nightlife in Venice, two bottles of wine for 6 Euros was more than sufficient. We spent the night swapping travel stories and talking about the crazy lady with her boob hanging out, and he creepy guy with the binoculars.
7/18/09 Turn Off The Lights And On Goes The Night
The final day in Venice. It was the coupe de grace, a perfect ending. We spent the day with Ashleigh and Brynn, two Canadians who are now friends. We strolled through the labyrinthine streets on our way to the park. What a cheap way to have fun, 2 Euros for snacks from the supermarket and hours of conversation. What could be better? We soon found ourselves in the Piazza Del San Marco, an avian infested square surrounded by some of the most exquisite and ambitious buildings ever seen. To think it was all built by hand without the help of modern technology is incomprehensible. That couldn’t be done today, our lives have become to codependent on luxuries and we have forgotten our roots as a species that uses its hands to get things done. If anything I ever do is half as long lived I would be completely overwhelmed. Later, dinner with Zoe and Danyce. Dinner was par, but the company was worth a tip. I knew I’d meet people, but never expected to meet those that I would truly want to keep in contact with. That night our hostel lived up to its infamy. We were taken out to one of the biggest parties ever. One in memory of those who died in the plague, wow we are really in Europe now. San Marco square filled with the inebriated, intoxicated, libated, and castrated (well who knows about the last one.) A fireworks show to end all (I never understood the human fascination with loud noises and bright lights), human pee shield, and late night mission to find the hostel. I had to replace our leader, to find the hostel. The leader who said, “Lead? I lead no one! (You might want to check your job description)
We stepped off the plane only to be met by the sweltering Venetian summer. The stark contrast between cold recycled air and that of this rich city really made me realize: our adventure had begun. As soon as it began things began to go wrong. Our bus choice, #12, given to us by the hostel’s directions was the wrong one. In our triumphant youth we thought we’d be able to walk back and find the site. We were wrong. 2hrs, 100º, and a 30-euro taxi ride later, we arrived at our hostel. After a swim and settling in, we set off to Venezia. The contrast of hand carved stones and ancient brick against a backdrop of bright lights and diesel engines gives the city of art and trades an indescribable personality. To see tourists walking the masterfully laid stone streets, while locals yell from their windows is a testament to how the city has changed. Did the city’s architects and builders think that in just a few centuries their city of rebirth would be standing next to an airport and cruise ships? The city is certainly enchanting, and I'm sure even more so in the midday sun, and hotter as well. Now to rest these tired feet and prepare for tomorrow.
7/17/09 A Venice Fish
I did expect our time in Venice to be filled with losing our way and getting lost in its winding streets, but not nearly as much as this. We planned our day on going to San Marco and eating at a pizza place recommended by our book. We didn’t even get to San Marco. The maps seem to omit all warning of dead ends, street names and alleyways, this all leads to a search based solely on luck. By the time we found the pizza place we were ready to collapse. Carrying around a 40-pound backpack and 10 lb bag certainly drains you. We soon recuperated after some pizza and beer and went to find the hostel. That, thankfully, was not hard to find. The hostel is an old building on the canal that looks like it has seen both the rule of Nero and Mussolini. Sitting in the common room you meet a rag-tag team of hostellers. Young, old, from all over. Looking for a good time. The people we met were all so friendly and entertaining, and I was more than happy to spend a night out with them. Though there isn’t much in the way of nightlife in Venice, two bottles of wine for 6 Euros was more than sufficient. We spent the night swapping travel stories and talking about the crazy lady with her boob hanging out, and he creepy guy with the binoculars.
7/18/09 Turn Off The Lights And On Goes The Night
The final day in Venice. It was the coupe de grace, a perfect ending. We spent the day with Ashleigh and Brynn, two Canadians who are now friends. We strolled through the labyrinthine streets on our way to the park. What a cheap way to have fun, 2 Euros for snacks from the supermarket and hours of conversation. What could be better? We soon found ourselves in the Piazza Del San Marco, an avian infested square surrounded by some of the most exquisite and ambitious buildings ever seen. To think it was all built by hand without the help of modern technology is incomprehensible. That couldn’t be done today, our lives have become to codependent on luxuries and we have forgotten our roots as a species that uses its hands to get things done. If anything I ever do is half as long lived I would be completely overwhelmed. Later, dinner with Zoe and Danyce. Dinner was par, but the company was worth a tip. I knew I’d meet people, but never expected to meet those that I would truly want to keep in contact with. That night our hostel lived up to its infamy. We were taken out to one of the biggest parties ever. One in memory of those who died in the plague, wow we are really in Europe now. San Marco square filled with the inebriated, intoxicated, libated, and castrated (well who knows about the last one.) A fireworks show to end all (I never understood the human fascination with loud noises and bright lights), human pee shield, and late night mission to find the hostel. I had to replace our leader, to find the hostel. The leader who said, “Lead? I lead no one! (You might want to check your job description)
Pittsburgh
7/8/09 Late Night, Long Flight
It’s about 3 am; I’m sitting in the last row of a plane that appears to be from time immemorial. The 70’s color, carpets, and costumes make for a unique experience. Even with my earplugs in the roar of the engines and the drag of the wind seem to rattle my brain, but that might just be the nerves. I am leaving home and won’t be back as the same person. The distance hasn’t become apparent yet, as less then 6 hours ago I could hug my mom or pet my dog. I wouldn’t say I’m scared, but it unnerves me to some degree to know I could never come back. I look to my left at the large old woman next to me for some sort of unconscious reassurance that everything will work out, but all I see are sad eyes, and I need to look away.
7/9/09 Invalid Move Asshole
My worries have all but dissipated, the initial fear is replaced by excitement. It’s going to happen soon. I feel as though I never left the Burgh last summer, and fall back into the predictable routine at once. I’m still not sure what Zac will be like travelling, but he will either learn or get left behind. Modern day evolution at work. Did Darwin expect the world to turn out this way? A place where one species could be so different just by being separated by the ocean. Well I suppose its both the years and history behind them. That and divergent evolution. And who knew a game of solitaire could be so fun?
7/10/09 The Paranoia Always Sets In
7/11/09 God Forgives All, Even That
It’s somewhere around 2 am, on our way to McDonalds. I cant believe it, and I just saw a sign that has sent me flying like a brick to the face. Doubt. That’s what its all about. You doubt yourself; you doubt others, and you apparently, by doubting a sign written by a man, God. I have doubts that I have been able to quell and others not. Doesn’t that make me human? Or just a blasphemous satanic nut. Driving at night puts one in a stupor, but everything seems more vivid. An otherwise boring uneventful American day just became meaningful.
7/13/09 I Cant Say No
7/14/09 Our Last Night
One more night until we leave. I keep tossing and turning thinking of all the things we will do, and all the things we will see. I can't believe I've already been in Pittsburgh for a week. To tell you the truth the whole thing is a bit of a blur as I was always looking ahead, not concentrating on the present. But what do you expect when you are about to embark on the biggest adventure of your life?
7/15/09 Up In The Air
I can't believe we are already on our way. Hours of planning and months of anticipation and the day has arrived. We fly from Pittsburgh to Dulles, Dulles to London, and London to Rome. I just hope I can sleep on the plane.... we will see.
It’s about 3 am; I’m sitting in the last row of a plane that appears to be from time immemorial. The 70’s color, carpets, and costumes make for a unique experience. Even with my earplugs in the roar of the engines and the drag of the wind seem to rattle my brain, but that might just be the nerves. I am leaving home and won’t be back as the same person. The distance hasn’t become apparent yet, as less then 6 hours ago I could hug my mom or pet my dog. I wouldn’t say I’m scared, but it unnerves me to some degree to know I could never come back. I look to my left at the large old woman next to me for some sort of unconscious reassurance that everything will work out, but all I see are sad eyes, and I need to look away.
7/9/09 Invalid Move Asshole
My worries have all but dissipated, the initial fear is replaced by excitement. It’s going to happen soon. I feel as though I never left the Burgh last summer, and fall back into the predictable routine at once. I’m still not sure what Zac will be like travelling, but he will either learn or get left behind. Modern day evolution at work. Did Darwin expect the world to turn out this way? A place where one species could be so different just by being separated by the ocean. Well I suppose its both the years and history behind them. That and divergent evolution. And who knew a game of solitaire could be so fun?
7/10/09 The Paranoia Always Sets In
7/11/09 God Forgives All, Even That
It’s somewhere around 2 am, on our way to McDonalds. I cant believe it, and I just saw a sign that has sent me flying like a brick to the face. Doubt. That’s what its all about. You doubt yourself; you doubt others, and you apparently, by doubting a sign written by a man, God. I have doubts that I have been able to quell and others not. Doesn’t that make me human? Or just a blasphemous satanic nut. Driving at night puts one in a stupor, but everything seems more vivid. An otherwise boring uneventful American day just became meaningful.
7/13/09 I Cant Say No
7/14/09 Our Last Night
One more night until we leave. I keep tossing and turning thinking of all the things we will do, and all the things we will see. I can't believe I've already been in Pittsburgh for a week. To tell you the truth the whole thing is a bit of a blur as I was always looking ahead, not concentrating on the present. But what do you expect when you are about to embark on the biggest adventure of your life?
7/15/09 Up In The Air
I can't believe we are already on our way. Hours of planning and months of anticipation and the day has arrived. We fly from Pittsburgh to Dulles, Dulles to London, and London to Rome. I just hope I can sleep on the plane.... we will see.
My European Trip
I am finally online and plugged in. My first posts will be of the trip I took through Europe with my best-friend Zac, who is also spending a year abroad in Sweden. The story starts with my week in Pittsburgh before Zac and I left for Europe.
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