After returning home from our vacation, going to a Blitzen Trapper concert, a Rocket Summer concert, and taking two finals, my family arrived. Travel was not kind to them and they had an endeavor getting across the ocean. But that seems to be the true Krob style. Nothing is ever just easy and simple. There has to be a monkey wrench. And that was true for this trip. Eagerly awaiting their arrival, Steph and I packed up our things and got ready to leave. As we sat in our bare rooms, we heard the doorbell ring.
Standing at the door was my sister, my dad, my mom, and a crutch. I must say, it was a truly odd feeling seeing such familiar faces in such a different setting. For we had gone months without seeing them and now they were in our study abroad home? We weren't in Iowa City, we were in Hull. OUR Hull. Needless to say it was pretty cool as we invited them in to show our humble abode.
After the quick tour of the house and a long series of catching up, we began the night’s activities. We took them around our Hull campus and showed them everything we knew so dearly; from the Union Pub where all our soccer was watched to the buildings where we mindlessly listened to lectures. We even stopped by the store to pick up some fresh apparel. Our energy was soon to fade, however, as jet lag and time differences quickly set in on the 3. Psh. Rookies. Regardless, we took them to our first ever pub: the Old Grey Mare. The food is mediocre and the prices are great and it was close enough for them to eat and go back and sleep. Nevermind the fact that it was about 7 p.m. England time.
The next day we ate breakfast with them before leaving for our final final. Ironic, I know. Once completed, we met up with our family to head to the city center. For the first time in England, we rode there in a car! As Joe drove on the opposite side of the road, we sat quietly trying to pretend it didn't feel completely foreign. We made it there in one piece, however, after stopping at the guitar shop and a post office. Once there, we shopped around a little and showed them the downtown to Hull. Tonight's dinner was at Barracudas; a favorite of Steph and I's. We had already stopped at Copland’s to get some English pastries but we still had enough room in our stomachs for dessert. After dinner was when the true fun began.
Not knowing how English parking garages worked, we were in for a surprise. As we walked towards the entrance to the ramp, we realized it was closed and the sign read that it was only until 6 p.m. Assuming that this was only for entering cars, we walked around to the exit. Low and behold, it was gated as well. Sitting in the office though was a worker. As we approached him, he asked, "Is it your car?" to which Steph asked him to repeat himself. He then said, "The silver car?" Not just if it was one of the cars. He was asking if our car was THE car. In a full-size parking ramp. We walked in and there was one car. Our silver car. And no others. I guess now we know if a parking ramp closes at 6:00, you better not show up at 8:30 or risk looking pretty daft. Once we made it home, Emmanuel had invited over our friends to meet the family. For the rest of the night we all hung out with ROARy, Emmanuel, Mathias, and Sam and discussed everything from WW2 to soccer.
The next day was to be spent outside of Hull. Heading to London, we expected a long day of travel but were unfortunately presented with a longer journey than originally thought. Crazy English roads provided us with countless roundabouts and carsickness for me. Eventually we made it though and were pleased to be staying at an amazing accommodation. The place was a two-story apartment fully furnished and completely awesome. It even had a spiral staircase! The location was a bit strange, but it was right next to a tube stop. The tube would not suffice the first night, however, seeing as how we needed to get to a show and were already running late.
Needing quick transportation, we decided to take a taxi. This was a good choice and it got us to Les Miserables in the knick of time. This was unfortunate though, as missing the show probably would have been a better experience for me. Of the 5 of us, however, I was the only one that felt this way. My feelings were no surprise though considering I don’t like musicals. It was still neat to see that side of England.
Waking up, we left the theater and walked through the gay district in search of Nando’s for some food. It was about 10:30 though and they thus only allowed take out orders. Hungry and desperate, we ordered food and ate it on the street. A car of drunken kids drove by and yelled, “Are you having fun?!” Yes. We were.
The next day was when our true London journey began. We hopped up at the crack of dawn to catch the first double decker tour bus through the city. It was a lot of fun, but the bitter English weather made our decision to sit in the open-topped upper compartment a mistake. The bus didn’t provide unique moments, but rather a nice overview of a massive city. A way to see all the sights in an hour. At the end of the tour, we went to the changing of the guards…which amounted to be nothing more than a mass of tourists as you strained to see some furry hats. We left 10 minutes later.
It was now time to split up, as Joe wanted different things than the family. He hopped back on a bus and we headed towards speakers corner. After listening to morons preach the second coming of Christ and the problems of America, we went to a pub for a true English experience: watching soccer. Today was an international game having England playing Japan and the pub we found was not a hotspot for watching the game. There were few fans but great food. We got a Sunday roast and watched England limp to a 2-1 victory.
After the game, we headed across town to meet up with Joe who had gone to the Imperial War Museum. And no, he did not walk there despite what he thought. Becky and Stephanie sat outside as Joe, Steph, and I went in and explored the Holocaust exhibit. Great exhibit. Then it was off for burgers and then Buckingham Palace before returning to our luxurious apartment.
Last on our itinerary was Brighton: the gay-friendly coastal beach town centered around its tacky pier. Once there we simply enjoyed the youthful energy of such a cheesy place and played arcade games and ate waffles on a stick. Becky, Steph, and Stephanie even put their feet in the channel! Ask Becky what the highlight was? Dinner at the great Italian restaurant. Overall though, Brighton was a relaxing day spent enjoying English life and recuperating before the 6-hour drive back to Hull the following day.
It’s funny how fast 6 hours go when you’re asleep. Waking up at our Hull home, we loaded up our luggage and took care of last minute things. It was difficult to say goodbye to all our friends. We gave them our emails and hoped to hear from them, but saying goodbye to people you’d grown so close to for 4 months is difficult. But we needed to head home. So, potato masher in hand, we hopped in the car that was a tight fit for 5, let alone with 8 pieces of luggage. You should’ve seen Becky, Steph, and I crammed in the backseat. Thankfully Manchester was only 2 hours away.
On the way to our hotel, we stopped at a rest stop. Leaving the rest stop, Steph and I discovered something completely strange. The Krob family trip’s last stop was at the exact same place Steph and I had first stopped. When we got to Manchester the bus stopped at this random stop as well, providing us our first glimpse into English culture. It couldn’t have been more fitting stopping at this exact place before saying goodbye.
Our flight left at 6:00 a.m., which meant no sleep for me. Steph slept an hour; I preferred to save it for the flight home. And much like the 6-hour car ride, the flight went by faster than I could’ve imagined lost in my dreams. Landing in Cedar Rapids was the strangest feeling. Stepping off the plane, we were amazed. Even the vending machines with our American snacks amazed us. We bought Sun Chips. Not because either of us love them, but because they didn’t have them in England. They signaled our return to our home country. And despite our best efforts to disappear into eternity in Cinque Terre and Keswick, we knew this land, a land of corn and bad weather, was our home. Walking through the terminal, we were home. Truly home.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Our Final Sans-Family Adventure
With a fresh bank account, it was time for the last true exploration prior to my parents joining us in England. We had a free week between the end of classes and our first final and we weren't about to let it go to waste.
The morning of the trip, we hopped up and headed to Oxford. No real interesting stories to tell other than we made it safely and on time...which is a feat in and of itself. Oxford was great. We started off buying postcards for 50p and paying with a 20 pound note (all we had). Somehow, we got 25.50 back in change. We noticed as we had left the store and debated returning. Condemn us if you wish, but we carried on, profit in hand. Oxford was a great town. It was beautiful and peaceful with a youthful college vibe. After exploring numerous stores, we stopped in the Gourmet Burger Kitchen...because I couldn't resist. It was well worth it.
No time to rest, though, as we hopped the next train to Windsor. After checking into our gorgeous hotel, we set off to explore the town before the sun set. Surprisingly substantial, the town expanded beyond its central castle. While the castle remained the focal point, the town was easily a favorite of ours. The streets were dead and the shops closed, but the town had that feeling. You know, the feeling that just speaks to you and says, "I'm a cool city." That feeling. And anyways, it had Nando's; what we initially thought was a delicious and unique restaurant and turned out to be a common and delicious restaurant found throughout South England.
The next day was full speed ahead as we took the early train to the edge of the country. 7 hours of train travel from central England to southwestern England, Cornwall, was draining. It probably did not help that I was sick as a dog at this point. My sore throat and fever meant the last thing I wanted to do was travel. But we had to carry on. Arriving in Penzance, we were met with miserably cold weather but beautiful scenery. The town was perched atop a hill overlooking the waterfront below. It lacked the beach-side allure of Blackpool and had a heavy nautical sea-port feel to it. It was definitely a side of England we had never seen. Unfortunately, this day was spent moping around half-heartedly looking at the views as I flew through tissues.
The following day, however, was much better. Rather than staying in the industrial town of Penzance, we took a quick train North to St. Ives. St. Ives was a beautiful place that brought back memories of Cinque Terre. While nowhere near as impressive, the town retained a nice charm as it sat idly along gorgeous blue water. Sea-side England was not lost, however, as arcades and junky tourist shops were abound. The view and scenery were undeniable as we bought some Cornish Ice Cream and watched the pelicans circle the docked boats. We relaxed and did nothing as we took in the sights and reminisced on our time so far in England. After the relaxation, though, we took to the 2-cent arcade game we love so much. We were so good, we had a crowd watching us. Pretty embarrassing. And if you're ever in Southern England, don't eat at a chain called Wimpy's.
The next day, we had a joyous 8-hour train ride to Moreton-in-Marsh in the Cotswolds region. Since computers don't pick up sarcasm, the last sentence was sarcastic. It was terrible. But the ultimate reward justified the means; the Cotswolds were gorgeous. We took a bus to our homebase of Chipping Campden and fell in love. Our late arrival meant there was nothing for us to do other than wander the city and enjoy our nice comfortable room. The city was dead and peaceful at this time of night
which provided a nice refuge from our long trip. Dinner choices were slim, however, in this tiny countryside village and our picky palettes demanded a dinner of peanut butter sandwiches and Milky Bars.
The following day started off with Steph's favorite activity: dogs! The owners of our Bed and Breakfast had 3 dogs that lazily roamed their stunning backyard: 1 small pug, 1 big black lab, and 1 skinny greyhound. The pug, Connie, loved Steph. She petted him/her (not sure) as his/her leg thumped emphatically in praise of Steph finding his/her 'spot.' I practically had to tear Steph away from the adorable pooches seeing as how we needed to start our bike ride.
We walked down Main Street to a local pub that rented bicycles. Paying 10 pounds each, we were taken out back and supplied with our gear, helmets and all. After deciding not to wear the bright orange safety vests, we hopped on the bikes and wobbled out of the alley. Having not riden a bike in years, it was rough. We had to stop every 3 minutes from exhaustion as we worked up the countless hills. On a positive, however, there were no crashes.
Our goal was to make it to the Snowshill Lavender Fields in Snowshill, a town about 8 miles away. Going to the town was unfortunately all uphill and we felt the burn. The closer and closer we got, the more we wondered when the lavender fields would jump out of of the yellow and green countryside. We wondered this as we kept getting closer. As we saw the sign for the fields, our confusion grew. As we turned into the lot for the fields, we understood. We were a few months early. Our 2 hours of uphill battles and soar butts rewarded us with 200 acres of unbloomed lavender plants...I sight much like that in Iowa. Turning to Steph, what reaction was it going to be? Anger? Desperate sadness? Crushed hopes? None of the above. We turned to each other and laughed. Only us we figured. Just our luck.
Not being ones to get down, we went into the nice little store and shopped around. Delicious minestrone soup and ice cream lifted our spirits as we rejuvenated for the imprending ride home. Yet what felt like a task coming out was a joy on the way home; for it was all downhill. This allowed us to appreciate the beauty more. For the scenery was stunning. The weather was perfect and for once, you could hear actual silence. Laying in a grassy field surrounded by yellow flowers and chirping birds, we took in the forzen moment of pure serenity. Between Steph's blowing noses, I took in the silence and debated whether you can hear silence or if silence is a lack of hearing altogether. By far one of the highlights of the trip. Riding the bikes through the countryside provided us imagery and an experience we would have otherwise never had. Who cares that there were no purple fields. We had the most fun we've had in a long time. And trust us, we have lots of fun.
Returning to the pub, we dropped off our bikes and enjoyed our favorite English past-time. Grabbing some drinks and watching the soccer game. The match had 2 teams we didn't like, but we enjoyed it nevertheless.
The next day was more of an endeavor than we planned. The plan? Catch the early bus to the train station. The problem? The schedule I had looked at ran from Mon-Sat and there were no buses on Sunday. Walking to the TI, we asked for tips. They said there was no way to get to the train station on Sundays other than taxis. This was a problem considering we had budgeted 20 pounds a day for food and such and the taxi would cost a flat 20 pounds. The old man gave us a list of numbers to try and we set off to the nearest cliche red telephone booth. Calling every number, only one could pick us up and take us. Thank God. The trip was a lot of fun as he filled us in on English history and showed us the beautiful countryside. We made it to the station on time and made it Canterbury.
Canterbury was beautiful. Our Bed and Breakfast was a treat at a steal of a price. The town was very college-friendly mixed with classical history. It had an undeniable charm that is difficult to describe...you know the kind of place that you enjoy not because of 4 star attractions and photo-op scenes, but rather from the little stores you love and snacks that couldn't be beat? This was one of those places. Every store was unique and the town had a great feel to it. While there was very little for us to do there, we didn't want to leave. But after one night, we had to. Riding back to Hull, we knew there was no more true travel until my family came; signlaling the beginning of the end of our semester abroad.
The morning of the trip, we hopped up and headed to Oxford. No real interesting stories to tell other than we made it safely and on time...which is a feat in and of itself. Oxford was great. We started off buying postcards for 50p and paying with a 20 pound note (all we had). Somehow, we got 25.50 back in change. We noticed as we had left the store and debated returning. Condemn us if you wish, but we carried on, profit in hand. Oxford was a great town. It was beautiful and peaceful with a youthful college vibe. After exploring numerous stores, we stopped in the Gourmet Burger Kitchen...because I couldn't resist. It was well worth it.
No time to rest, though, as we hopped the next train to Windsor. After checking into our gorgeous hotel, we set off to explore the town before the sun set. Surprisingly substantial, the town expanded beyond its central castle. While the castle remained the focal point, the town was easily a favorite of ours. The streets were dead and the shops closed, but the town had that feeling. You know, the feeling that just speaks to you and says, "I'm a cool city." That feeling. And anyways, it had Nando's; what we initially thought was a delicious and unique restaurant and turned out to be a common and delicious restaurant found throughout South England.
The next day was full speed ahead as we took the early train to the edge of the country. 7 hours of train travel from central England to southwestern England, Cornwall, was draining. It probably did not help that I was sick as a dog at this point. My sore throat and fever meant the last thing I wanted to do was travel. But we had to carry on. Arriving in Penzance, we were met with miserably cold weather but beautiful scenery. The town was perched atop a hill overlooking the waterfront below. It lacked the beach-side allure of Blackpool and had a heavy nautical sea-port feel to it. It was definitely a side of England we had never seen. Unfortunately, this day was spent moping around half-heartedly looking at the views as I flew through tissues.
The following day, however, was much better. Rather than staying in the industrial town of Penzance, we took a quick train North to St. Ives. St. Ives was a beautiful place that brought back memories of Cinque Terre. While nowhere near as impressive, the town retained a nice charm as it sat idly along gorgeous blue water. Sea-side England was not lost, however, as arcades and junky tourist shops were abound. The view and scenery were undeniable as we bought some Cornish Ice Cream and watched the pelicans circle the docked boats. We relaxed and did nothing as we took in the sights and reminisced on our time so far in England. After the relaxation, though, we took to the 2-cent arcade game we love so much. We were so good, we had a crowd watching us. Pretty embarrassing. And if you're ever in Southern England, don't eat at a chain called Wimpy's.
The next day, we had a joyous 8-hour train ride to Moreton-in-Marsh in the Cotswolds region. Since computers don't pick up sarcasm, the last sentence was sarcastic. It was terrible. But the ultimate reward justified the means; the Cotswolds were gorgeous. We took a bus to our homebase of Chipping Campden and fell in love. Our late arrival meant there was nothing for us to do other than wander the city and enjoy our nice comfortable room. The city was dead and peaceful at this time of night
which provided a nice refuge from our long trip. Dinner choices were slim, however, in this tiny countryside village and our picky palettes demanded a dinner of peanut butter sandwiches and Milky Bars.
The following day started off with Steph's favorite activity: dogs! The owners of our Bed and Breakfast had 3 dogs that lazily roamed their stunning backyard: 1 small pug, 1 big black lab, and 1 skinny greyhound. The pug, Connie, loved Steph. She petted him/her (not sure) as his/her leg thumped emphatically in praise of Steph finding his/her 'spot.' I practically had to tear Steph away from the adorable pooches seeing as how we needed to start our bike ride.
We walked down Main Street to a local pub that rented bicycles. Paying 10 pounds each, we were taken out back and supplied with our gear, helmets and all. After deciding not to wear the bright orange safety vests, we hopped on the bikes and wobbled out of the alley. Having not riden a bike in years, it was rough. We had to stop every 3 minutes from exhaustion as we worked up the countless hills. On a positive, however, there were no crashes.
Our goal was to make it to the Snowshill Lavender Fields in Snowshill, a town about 8 miles away. Going to the town was unfortunately all uphill and we felt the burn. The closer and closer we got, the more we wondered when the lavender fields would jump out of of the yellow and green countryside. We wondered this as we kept getting closer. As we saw the sign for the fields, our confusion grew. As we turned into the lot for the fields, we understood. We were a few months early. Our 2 hours of uphill battles and soar butts rewarded us with 200 acres of unbloomed lavender plants...I sight much like that in Iowa. Turning to Steph, what reaction was it going to be? Anger? Desperate sadness? Crushed hopes? None of the above. We turned to each other and laughed. Only us we figured. Just our luck.
Not being ones to get down, we went into the nice little store and shopped around. Delicious minestrone soup and ice cream lifted our spirits as we rejuvenated for the imprending ride home. Yet what felt like a task coming out was a joy on the way home; for it was all downhill. This allowed us to appreciate the beauty more. For the scenery was stunning. The weather was perfect and for once, you could hear actual silence. Laying in a grassy field surrounded by yellow flowers and chirping birds, we took in the forzen moment of pure serenity. Between Steph's blowing noses, I took in the silence and debated whether you can hear silence or if silence is a lack of hearing altogether. By far one of the highlights of the trip. Riding the bikes through the countryside provided us imagery and an experience we would have otherwise never had. Who cares that there were no purple fields. We had the most fun we've had in a long time. And trust us, we have lots of fun.
Returning to the pub, we dropped off our bikes and enjoyed our favorite English past-time. Grabbing some drinks and watching the soccer game. The match had 2 teams we didn't like, but we enjoyed it nevertheless.
The next day was more of an endeavor than we planned. The plan? Catch the early bus to the train station. The problem? The schedule I had looked at ran from Mon-Sat and there were no buses on Sunday. Walking to the TI, we asked for tips. They said there was no way to get to the train station on Sundays other than taxis. This was a problem considering we had budgeted 20 pounds a day for food and such and the taxi would cost a flat 20 pounds. The old man gave us a list of numbers to try and we set off to the nearest cliche red telephone booth. Calling every number, only one could pick us up and take us. Thank God. The trip was a lot of fun as he filled us in on English history and showed us the beautiful countryside. We made it to the station on time and made it Canterbury.
Canterbury was beautiful. Our Bed and Breakfast was a treat at a steal of a price. The town was very college-friendly mixed with classical history. It had an undeniable charm that is difficult to describe...you know the kind of place that you enjoy not because of 4 star attractions and photo-op scenes, but rather from the little stores you love and snacks that couldn't be beat? This was one of those places. Every store was unique and the town had a great feel to it. While there was very little for us to do there, we didn't want to leave. But after one night, we had to. Riding back to Hull, we knew there was no more true travel until my family came; signlaling the beginning of the end of our semester abroad.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
that stupid panic-when-uncomfortable gene
It's been a while since the last update! This is due to our mini-vacation part 2...but we will talk about that in a later post. First we need to fill you in on the week and a half after Blackpool/Liverpool leading up to our trip. And when we say a week and a half, we mean the one day that we actually did something other than lounge around Hull searching for edible food.
The Sunday before last, May 9th, was the last game of the FA Premier League. Considering our local bottom-of-the-league Hull City Tigers had already officially secured their fate of relegation, our eyes were solely on our true favorite team: Manchester United. Despite the efforts of my mother, my girlfriend, and myself, we were unable to purchase tickets to the final game. This was a major disappointment, but we realized how lucky we were to have seen 3 matches already (thank you Immanuel, Stephanie the sister, and Becky). To soften the blow, however, we decided to catch a train down to Manchester anyways to watch the game at a local pub. We figured if we couldn't get in the stadium, we might as well get close.
After arriving early and shopping around, we headed to legendary Old Trafford to soak in the atmosphere. Having drained ourselves of money, we had a strict budget of 20 pounds that could be spent in Manchester if we wanted to survive until we finished the semester. Needless to say, scalping tickets was financially out of the picture.
We walked around and around wishing we could go into the stadium. Minute after minute passed and the mass of fans slowly began shifting inside the walls of the stadium. We simply aimed to find where the players exited the stadium (to get pictures/autographs after the game) and see if anyone had 2 tickets for 10 pounds each. We could dream right?
Being the last game of the season with a potential for league victory (pending a Chelsea loss), there were few people looking to give up their tickets. Adding to the difficulty of finding unwanted tickets, reselling tickets appeared to be illegal due to the reserved nature of scalpers. After many efforts to find tickets, we located a true, greedy, sketchy group of scalpers. Normally, we wouldn't have bothered, but it was our only shot. We approached one guy simply to get a price range (hoping for under 10 pounds) and were short 105 pounds 2 minutes later.
After asking how much, the man told me 90 pounds each. I quickly asked if he had cheaper as he proceeded to show me two more tickets for 80 each. At this point, I said I couldn't pay that much and began to walk away as Steph joined me. He then followed us asking if we were interested. We both said no and said we would need cheaper prices. He caved and said he could give them to us for 70 each.
Now as many of you know, I don't like being in high pressure situations when I want to make a decision; I like to walk away, talk about it in private, then make a decision. With this scalper, however, that wasn't going to cut it. In a bid to politely say no and walk away from the situation, I said I didn't have any cash on me. He proceeded to ask if it was a deal or not until I showed him my empty pockets (aside from a 5 pound note). I originally thought that this would allow Steph and I to go "get money" and avoid a situation where we shouldn't be spending money. Catching me off guard, however, he said he would walk us to the nearest ATM. Before doing so, he said, "You guys going to do it or not? 70's the best I got." Remember...we had a 20 pound limit. Not 140. 140 would mean our entire food budget for the next month. Maybe it was the irrational, panic-when-confused, rash-decisions-in-uncomfortable-situations gene I inherited from my father, maybe it was the roar of the crowd as the game neared kick-off, or maybe it was the realization that we would never be this close for a long time, but we said yes.
Having secured the deal, we set off on a 6 minute walk to the other side of the stadium for an ATM. Fresh off the heals of a rash decision, we walked behind the man deciding if we should've agreed or not. The longer we walked, the more we regretted the idea of spending so much money that we didn't have. Imagine spending 10 times more money than you had for something and then being given 5 minutes to stew over your decision before having to contractually finalize it. While we were not contractually obligated, the longer we walked with this man, the worse I felt backing out. Steph and I continued to bicker back and forth, weighing out the options. Was it worth starving for a month? How badly did we want to see the game? Was this guy even legitimate?
As we waited in line for the ATM 20 yards from a hovering scalper, we decided we needed to buy tickets. As Steph put it, "When is the next time we will be this close? We won't have an opportunity like this for 10 years at least." That sold it for me. But I also decided we couldn't pay 140 pounds. Call it stingy, call it cheap, but I devised a plan. As the scalper hovered from a distance, I pretended to be aghast at the ATM. I looked at Steph in anger over the confusion displayed on the screen. Approaching the scalper, I told him that the machine only let me take out 100 pounds and that it must have been a miscalculation on my finances. Maybe he was desperate or maybe he was generous, but he took the deal under the condition I throw in the 5 pounds he had seen earlier. I quickly agreed and we exchanged.
I was still anxious until we got into the stadium and discovered the tickets were indeed real. Walking to our seats, we were amazed at the quality. 5th row. Literally, 5th row. Close enough to see the players' sweat. Much like the previous 3 soccer games we went to, we wouldn't stop yapping about how excited we were. I felt like a pathetic teenage groupie as I about went crazy when Ryan Giggs, one of my all time favorites, stood in front of us for a corner kick. Being so close obviously had its disadvantages, and we struggled to see the second half of the game (with all the action on the other half), but the seats were perfect in our eyes. For 52.50 pounds each, we were in heaven. We won 4-0. Unfortunately, however, Chelsea won their game 8-0 and we didn't win the league. Not like we would've seen the celebration anyways, considering we took an uncharacteristic option to leave 2 minutes early to line up for autographs.
No point belaboring this story much more than it needs to be. Probably about 200 fans joined us as we screamed at players, held back by barricades, hoping for them to come sign an autograph. Player after player snubbed fans with a half-hearted wave as they carried their newborn babies to their luxurious cars. A few, however, were true to their fans, with 4 gaining respect in our books.
Wayne Rooney and Micheal Carrick signed autographs but unfortunately got nowhere near us. 4 players did though, including 2 of our all-time favorite players. First, Steph squeezed her hand in to have Ryan Giggs, my soccer hero, sign my tickets. While I was on cloud 9 and ready to leave, Steph pressed on, pushing through fans to get more. Next up? John O'Shea. After that? Superstar Rio Ferdinand. And then we were faced with a dilemma. The last train across town left in 10 minutes and one of our combined favorite players stood about 15 minutes of autographs away. Was it worth the risk? Definitely. And we got it. Patrice Evra.
Unfortunately, however, we missed the train. Not wanting to walk an hour back to the train station, we had to use a cab for the first time in Europe. He obviously knew we had no clue what we were doing and we both agree we got ripped off because of it. We asked how much it would be to the train station and he said about 10 pounds. We hopped in, deciding we had already blown through so much money, 10 was not going to be noticed. We watched the meter as we approached the station, about 5-10 minutes away. When we were about 3/4 of the way there, the meter said 5.60. Doing the math, we would have about a 7.50 ride with a 2.50 tip...10 pounds exactly.
The man spoke with a heavy Middle-Eastern accent that I could not understand. Because of that, I anti-socially avoided any talking, leaving the burden on wonderful Steph. He told her something that neither of us understood very well, but Steph followed enough to know what was going on. He said that in order to save us money, he would shut off the meter and just charge us 12 pounds. Justifiably confused, Steph said ok and he proceeded to suggest a hefty tip for such a kind gesture. Mind you, I did not know what he had just done (essentially double the price of our trip and label it as "a kind gesture").
It just so happened that when the meter was shut off, it displayed the time. As we pulled up to the station, the time read 7 15. Not knowing the meter had been shut off, I gave him a 10 with a look of confidence as I began to exit the cab, thinking I was giving a 2 85 tip on top of a 7 15 tab. He was confused and said I did not give him enough, which quickly confused me. He said, "You gave me a 10," and I said "Keep the change." Steph must have thought I was pretty ballsy as she butted in and told me the bill was 12 pounds. Confused and overwhelmed, my rash-decision gene kicked in and I gave him 12 pounds. I was confused enough to not give him any tip at all. After Steph explained to me what was going on, I was happy to have not tipped him. Steph and I follow in the footsteps of Grandma Donna when it comes to generous tipping, but I don't like getting taking advantage of.
Finally, we were at the station ready to go home when the depression of drained finances overcame the joy of Manchester victory. On the ride home, calculating finances showed us that we would need to cut our forthcoming trip short. The next few days were obviously very sad as we tried contacting hotels to cancel reservations before Randy and Jean Erb saved the day. Unbeknownst to both Steph and myself, her parents injected her account with a very large sum of money after hearing Stephs' sad state. I must say, we were both very grateful. Staying true to character, they saved our trip without us even asking for help. Without them, our week long trip (covered in the next blog) would not have been possible. More importantly, however, is that without them, the Manchester adventure would have been viewed as a mistake. Now, though, it is one of our best memories yet.
The Sunday before last, May 9th, was the last game of the FA Premier League. Considering our local bottom-of-the-league Hull City Tigers had already officially secured their fate of relegation, our eyes were solely on our true favorite team: Manchester United. Despite the efforts of my mother, my girlfriend, and myself, we were unable to purchase tickets to the final game. This was a major disappointment, but we realized how lucky we were to have seen 3 matches already (thank you Immanuel, Stephanie the sister, and Becky). To soften the blow, however, we decided to catch a train down to Manchester anyways to watch the game at a local pub. We figured if we couldn't get in the stadium, we might as well get close.
After arriving early and shopping around, we headed to legendary Old Trafford to soak in the atmosphere. Having drained ourselves of money, we had a strict budget of 20 pounds that could be spent in Manchester if we wanted to survive until we finished the semester. Needless to say, scalping tickets was financially out of the picture.
We walked around and around wishing we could go into the stadium. Minute after minute passed and the mass of fans slowly began shifting inside the walls of the stadium. We simply aimed to find where the players exited the stadium (to get pictures/autographs after the game) and see if anyone had 2 tickets for 10 pounds each. We could dream right?
Being the last game of the season with a potential for league victory (pending a Chelsea loss), there were few people looking to give up their tickets. Adding to the difficulty of finding unwanted tickets, reselling tickets appeared to be illegal due to the reserved nature of scalpers. After many efforts to find tickets, we located a true, greedy, sketchy group of scalpers. Normally, we wouldn't have bothered, but it was our only shot. We approached one guy simply to get a price range (hoping for under 10 pounds) and were short 105 pounds 2 minutes later.
After asking how much, the man told me 90 pounds each. I quickly asked if he had cheaper as he proceeded to show me two more tickets for 80 each. At this point, I said I couldn't pay that much and began to walk away as Steph joined me. He then followed us asking if we were interested. We both said no and said we would need cheaper prices. He caved and said he could give them to us for 70 each.
Now as many of you know, I don't like being in high pressure situations when I want to make a decision; I like to walk away, talk about it in private, then make a decision. With this scalper, however, that wasn't going to cut it. In a bid to politely say no and walk away from the situation, I said I didn't have any cash on me. He proceeded to ask if it was a deal or not until I showed him my empty pockets (aside from a 5 pound note). I originally thought that this would allow Steph and I to go "get money" and avoid a situation where we shouldn't be spending money. Catching me off guard, however, he said he would walk us to the nearest ATM. Before doing so, he said, "You guys going to do it or not? 70's the best I got." Remember...we had a 20 pound limit. Not 140. 140 would mean our entire food budget for the next month. Maybe it was the irrational, panic-when-confused, rash-decisions-in-uncomfortable-situations gene I inherited from my father, maybe it was the roar of the crowd as the game neared kick-off, or maybe it was the realization that we would never be this close for a long time, but we said yes.
Having secured the deal, we set off on a 6 minute walk to the other side of the stadium for an ATM. Fresh off the heals of a rash decision, we walked behind the man deciding if we should've agreed or not. The longer we walked, the more we regretted the idea of spending so much money that we didn't have. Imagine spending 10 times more money than you had for something and then being given 5 minutes to stew over your decision before having to contractually finalize it. While we were not contractually obligated, the longer we walked with this man, the worse I felt backing out. Steph and I continued to bicker back and forth, weighing out the options. Was it worth starving for a month? How badly did we want to see the game? Was this guy even legitimate?
As we waited in line for the ATM 20 yards from a hovering scalper, we decided we needed to buy tickets. As Steph put it, "When is the next time we will be this close? We won't have an opportunity like this for 10 years at least." That sold it for me. But I also decided we couldn't pay 140 pounds. Call it stingy, call it cheap, but I devised a plan. As the scalper hovered from a distance, I pretended to be aghast at the ATM. I looked at Steph in anger over the confusion displayed on the screen. Approaching the scalper, I told him that the machine only let me take out 100 pounds and that it must have been a miscalculation on my finances. Maybe he was desperate or maybe he was generous, but he took the deal under the condition I throw in the 5 pounds he had seen earlier. I quickly agreed and we exchanged.
I was still anxious until we got into the stadium and discovered the tickets were indeed real. Walking to our seats, we were amazed at the quality. 5th row. Literally, 5th row. Close enough to see the players' sweat. Much like the previous 3 soccer games we went to, we wouldn't stop yapping about how excited we were. I felt like a pathetic teenage groupie as I about went crazy when Ryan Giggs, one of my all time favorites, stood in front of us for a corner kick. Being so close obviously had its disadvantages, and we struggled to see the second half of the game (with all the action on the other half), but the seats were perfect in our eyes. For 52.50 pounds each, we were in heaven. We won 4-0. Unfortunately, however, Chelsea won their game 8-0 and we didn't win the league. Not like we would've seen the celebration anyways, considering we took an uncharacteristic option to leave 2 minutes early to line up for autographs.
No point belaboring this story much more than it needs to be. Probably about 200 fans joined us as we screamed at players, held back by barricades, hoping for them to come sign an autograph. Player after player snubbed fans with a half-hearted wave as they carried their newborn babies to their luxurious cars. A few, however, were true to their fans, with 4 gaining respect in our books.
Wayne Rooney and Micheal Carrick signed autographs but unfortunately got nowhere near us. 4 players did though, including 2 of our all-time favorite players. First, Steph squeezed her hand in to have Ryan Giggs, my soccer hero, sign my tickets. While I was on cloud 9 and ready to leave, Steph pressed on, pushing through fans to get more. Next up? John O'Shea. After that? Superstar Rio Ferdinand. And then we were faced with a dilemma. The last train across town left in 10 minutes and one of our combined favorite players stood about 15 minutes of autographs away. Was it worth the risk? Definitely. And we got it. Patrice Evra.
Unfortunately, however, we missed the train. Not wanting to walk an hour back to the train station, we had to use a cab for the first time in Europe. He obviously knew we had no clue what we were doing and we both agree we got ripped off because of it. We asked how much it would be to the train station and he said about 10 pounds. We hopped in, deciding we had already blown through so much money, 10 was not going to be noticed. We watched the meter as we approached the station, about 5-10 minutes away. When we were about 3/4 of the way there, the meter said 5.60. Doing the math, we would have about a 7.50 ride with a 2.50 tip...10 pounds exactly.
The man spoke with a heavy Middle-Eastern accent that I could not understand. Because of that, I anti-socially avoided any talking, leaving the burden on wonderful Steph. He told her something that neither of us understood very well, but Steph followed enough to know what was going on. He said that in order to save us money, he would shut off the meter and just charge us 12 pounds. Justifiably confused, Steph said ok and he proceeded to suggest a hefty tip for such a kind gesture. Mind you, I did not know what he had just done (essentially double the price of our trip and label it as "a kind gesture").
It just so happened that when the meter was shut off, it displayed the time. As we pulled up to the station, the time read 7 15. Not knowing the meter had been shut off, I gave him a 10 with a look of confidence as I began to exit the cab, thinking I was giving a 2 85 tip on top of a 7 15 tab. He was confused and said I did not give him enough, which quickly confused me. He said, "You gave me a 10," and I said "Keep the change." Steph must have thought I was pretty ballsy as she butted in and told me the bill was 12 pounds. Confused and overwhelmed, my rash-decision gene kicked in and I gave him 12 pounds. I was confused enough to not give him any tip at all. After Steph explained to me what was going on, I was happy to have not tipped him. Steph and I follow in the footsteps of Grandma Donna when it comes to generous tipping, but I don't like getting taking advantage of.
Finally, we were at the station ready to go home when the depression of drained finances overcame the joy of Manchester victory. On the ride home, calculating finances showed us that we would need to cut our forthcoming trip short. The next few days were obviously very sad as we tried contacting hotels to cancel reservations before Randy and Jean Erb saved the day. Unbeknownst to both Steph and myself, her parents injected her account with a very large sum of money after hearing Stephs' sad state. I must say, we were both very grateful. Staying true to character, they saved our trip without us even asking for help. Without them, our week long trip (covered in the next blog) would not have been possible. More importantly, however, is that without them, the Manchester adventure would have been viewed as a mistake. Now, though, it is one of our best memories yet.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
youtube videos
Steph and I just wanted to point out to anybody who watches our youtube videos that we imported 2 at the same time. Both part 15 and 16 are new and were uploaded at the same time, so make sure to check them both out.
The Lovebirds
The Lovebirds
Sunday, May 9, 2010
music and arcades
Congratulations! If you guys have read all the blogs thus far, you are up to date on our travels. But returning from Italy, we haven't slowed down. We did need a break though. So for the first week or two back, we did a whole lot of nothing. Watching soccer and going to pubs. But then we were kicked back into gear by a Hull City soccer game. Courtesy of a generous birthday gift from Stephanie (the sister), we enjoyed Hull City play as terrible as they're known for. But Premier League is Premier League and it was a joy to be in the rowdy stadium as drunken men cheered for the incompetent Tigers.
Last weekend was spent in Liverpool and Blackpool. Getting into Liverpool in the late afternoon, we quickly checked into our hostel and set off to tour the town. Shopping at the same-old redundant English department stores, it was all just putting off the true plans. A concert. An incredible concert.
Liverpool must have missed the memo and decided not to show up, because the venue was scarce. 5 bands for only 6 pounds, this show was worth its weight in gold. First stop? Concert tees! Second stop? Front row. First band? The Wild. The only band of the 5 we didn't know, the band was a surprise. With only about 15 people in the crowd, they struggled to get the crowd involved and ruined their set because of it. Steph and I agree that when we go to a concert, we like to simply enjoy the music and maybe sing along. When we have a singer, therefore, that demands you jump and move and dance every 5 seconds, we quickly get annoyed. Too bad too, because they had some good music.
The second band was Rio, a local English band. They were absolutely incredible. They played a short, high-energy set that was a lot of fun. The third band was the Dangerous Summer. Considering their show in Iowa got cancelled a year ago because of a blizzard, I was very excited to see them. They played a great set including all of our favorites (even the single famously used in the Hull, England Keswick episode!). I loved them, Steph liked them. After meeting them after the show, Steph loved them (THEY WERE SOOOO NICE!!).
Band 4 was a shared interest and Steph's highlight. As long as we've listened to Anarbor, we have still never gotten a chance to see them. Their music was great, and their show was awesome. Steph would probably consider it the best of the 5, but I would argue the Swellers were. Band number 5. I had no clue who the Swellers were when we bought the tickets, but I quickly bought the CD and was blown away. Their music is fast, loud, and often pretty rough. I think they realized that I was the only kid in the crowd belting out the lyrics to every song, and they acknowledged us a few times. Steph got some credit too for sporting a pretty sharp Swellers T-shirt.
The highlight of the night? Before the final song (one of my favorites played due to my request), the bass player pointed at Steph and I and said, and I quote, "This one goes out to you two; the lovebirds." Can you imagine that? He must watch our videos and read our blog.
The next morning, we went to Blackpool. Steph compared it to the Jersey Shore. I compared it to a city made from a mix of Adventureland and Treasure City. We went back and forth from loving it to hating it. In hindsight, however, we loved it but would hesitate to go back. Needing to save some money, we opted out of going to the amusement park and rather explored every pier and arcade in sight. We probably spent 20 pounds on shooting games and 2-cent carnival games, but it was well worth it. The food was awful and the atmosphere was completely overwhelming, but it was a unique experience.
Not much more to say about it really. Just two kids doing kid things in a city made for kids.
Tomorrow? Last game of the season. Going to Manchester to cheer on our team with like-minded locals in some dirty pub.
Last weekend was spent in Liverpool and Blackpool. Getting into Liverpool in the late afternoon, we quickly checked into our hostel and set off to tour the town. Shopping at the same-old redundant English department stores, it was all just putting off the true plans. A concert. An incredible concert.
Liverpool must have missed the memo and decided not to show up, because the venue was scarce. 5 bands for only 6 pounds, this show was worth its weight in gold. First stop? Concert tees! Second stop? Front row. First band? The Wild. The only band of the 5 we didn't know, the band was a surprise. With only about 15 people in the crowd, they struggled to get the crowd involved and ruined their set because of it. Steph and I agree that when we go to a concert, we like to simply enjoy the music and maybe sing along. When we have a singer, therefore, that demands you jump and move and dance every 5 seconds, we quickly get annoyed. Too bad too, because they had some good music.
The second band was Rio, a local English band. They were absolutely incredible. They played a short, high-energy set that was a lot of fun. The third band was the Dangerous Summer. Considering their show in Iowa got cancelled a year ago because of a blizzard, I was very excited to see them. They played a great set including all of our favorites (even the single famously used in the Hull, England Keswick episode!). I loved them, Steph liked them. After meeting them after the show, Steph loved them (THEY WERE SOOOO NICE!!).
Band 4 was a shared interest and Steph's highlight. As long as we've listened to Anarbor, we have still never gotten a chance to see them. Their music was great, and their show was awesome. Steph would probably consider it the best of the 5, but I would argue the Swellers were. Band number 5. I had no clue who the Swellers were when we bought the tickets, but I quickly bought the CD and was blown away. Their music is fast, loud, and often pretty rough. I think they realized that I was the only kid in the crowd belting out the lyrics to every song, and they acknowledged us a few times. Steph got some credit too for sporting a pretty sharp Swellers T-shirt.
The highlight of the night? Before the final song (one of my favorites played due to my request), the bass player pointed at Steph and I and said, and I quote, "This one goes out to you two; the lovebirds." Can you imagine that? He must watch our videos and read our blog.
The next morning, we went to Blackpool. Steph compared it to the Jersey Shore. I compared it to a city made from a mix of Adventureland and Treasure City. We went back and forth from loving it to hating it. In hindsight, however, we loved it but would hesitate to go back. Needing to save some money, we opted out of going to the amusement park and rather explored every pier and arcade in sight. We probably spent 20 pounds on shooting games and 2-cent carnival games, but it was well worth it. The food was awful and the atmosphere was completely overwhelming, but it was a unique experience.
Not much more to say about it really. Just two kids doing kid things in a city made for kids.
Tomorrow? Last game of the season. Going to Manchester to cheer on our team with like-minded locals in some dirty pub.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Spring Break Part 7 (Days 21,22,23,24)
Day 21 and 22
There was little that could comfort our departure from the beautiful Varenna on Lake Como, Italy. Of all places, however, Venice fit the bill. The last stop of our journey, Venice was a highly anticipated stop for both Steph and I after hearing mixed reviews throughout our Italian quest. As we stepped off the train, we saw canals instead of roads and boats instead of cars (and the obnoxious Italian Vespas). Walking from the train station towards the grand canal, we saw tourism like never before. Hoards of people with open-wide eyes and maps in their hands, we fit right in. It seemed as though Venice was the mecca for all the street vendors trying to sell flying saucer toys, squishy desk toys, watches, and purses.
Skipping by the barrage of tourist-aimed activity, however, we discovered a town beyond anything we ever expected. Sure, the town was full of stores either too expensive to even enter or catering to tourist interests, but the town had an inexplicable beauty. Canals sat idly under forgotten bridges in every corner of town. Winding roads ended at canals full of striped-shirt gondoliers. Decadent houses long past their prime lined the moss-covered edges of the beautiful canals. It was easy to see why this city was so popular. Despite its tourist overtaking, the town retained an undeniable beauty that couldn't be matched by anywhere else. It was a different beauty than the Cinque Terre and Como. It was an ugly beauty. And we loved it.
Expecting the worst from Venice, we were very surprised. We were told that it was an over-priced city. Yet we got pizza for dinner for a total of 6 euros, pizza for lunch for a total of 5 euros, and McDonalds for dinner for a total of 10 euros. We even found some of the BEST gelato for only 2 euro 2 flavor double-scoop. Needless to say, if Venice was expensive, we surely didn't notice.
We had nothing planned for Venice other than walk around and explore. We had officially ran out of money and were required to create our own entertainment. This, unfortunately, eliminated the potential for a two-person gondola ride that was priced at nearly 100 euros. Staying true to their nature, however, my parents saved the day with a last second donation of funds that would allow us to go on the gondola if we so chose.
After much debate, however, we decided against it. It wasn't quite as romantic as it looks. The gondoliers are crude, cigarette-smoking, old men that try to swindle you out of money as you walk by their docked gondolas. The gondolas are dated, with worn, grimy velvet, decaying on the seats of where the customers sit. It reminded me a lot of the horses that pull carriages through Central Park. In theory, very romantic. In reality, however, kind of gross and smelly. The money, however, was put to good use, allowing us to survive one more day and then the way back home. Did I mention that on the last day in Como we had to skip lunch and dinner and not eat because we didn't have enough money for it? Needless to say, the money couldn't have come at a better time and was much appreciated.
We still got a feel for Venice gondolas, however, as we took a cheap ferry-esque boat from one side of Venice to the other via the Grand Canal, passing under the Rialto Bridge. Better yet, we payed .50 euros each to have a gondolier take us across the Grand Canal (a task many Venetians require considering only 3 bridges cross the canal). The 1 minute trip was the best money spent the entire trip and was a easily a highlight of our stay in Venice.
Both days spent in Venice were fabulous. We loved everything about it and did not want to leave. Especially for what we had in store.
Day 23
At 2:00 p.m. of our final day in Italy, we took a bus from Venice to the Venice Treviso airport, an hour long trip without air conditioning in the blistering hot Italian sun. Upon arriving, we did nothing but sit and wait. We were there at 3:00 p.m. and our flight left at 10:30. We got pretty bored. Time passed so slowly. Or so we thought.
At about 8:00, it was time for me to jump into action. After buying countless souvenirs, we did not have enough room for all of our stuff. We had come with only 2 backpacks stuffed to the brim with stuff, including clothes in space-bags. But we now had a bag FULL of souvenirs. If you do the math correctly, that left us with 3 bags worth of stuff. Quiz time. Do you think we paid to check our third bag (considering RyanAir strictly allows only one piece of carry-on luggage)? No. Of course not. That would have cost money! So, at 8:00, I went to put on every piece of clothing I had brought for the 3 weeks: Too many socks to count, 10 layers around the waist (including a swimsuit, athletic shorts, khaki shorts and more all stuffed under already-pretty thin fitting jeans), and 8 layers on the top half. I looked, and felt, like the Michelin Man. Steph did the same.
Security must have thought we were idiots as we waddled through security and to our gate, but we were happy. We beat the system and it made us proud. Unfortunately though, there were people who checked your amount of carry-on luggage prior to boarding the plane at your gate, so Steph and I were required to keep our layers on until we landed in Liverpool at midnight. 4 hours in that many clothes got pretty rough pretty quick.
Once in Liverpool, though, we got to take off the layers and relax. Relax all night. From 12:00 to 8:00 a.m. NOW time passed slowly. To our luck, the airport was freezing cold, and had nowhere cozy to stay. Steph and I moved from place to place as she tried to sleep and I remained awake. After finding refuge in the Euro-per-10 minute leather massage chairs, we bunkered in for a long night below a statue of John Lennon.
Day 24
As morning finally broke, and the first buses to Lime Street Train Station arrived, it was all a monotonous journey. Hop on bus, get on train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on next train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on next train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on bus, hop off at Cranbrook Avenue. A one block walk and we were home. It was the middle of the afternoon and we were ready to sleep, something we hadn't done in about 30 hours at this point. But Manchester United was playing. So there was a quick change into our jerseys and off to the pub to watch our favorite team and get some of the horrible English food we have grown to find comforting. We were home.
There was little that could comfort our departure from the beautiful Varenna on Lake Como, Italy. Of all places, however, Venice fit the bill. The last stop of our journey, Venice was a highly anticipated stop for both Steph and I after hearing mixed reviews throughout our Italian quest. As we stepped off the train, we saw canals instead of roads and boats instead of cars (and the obnoxious Italian Vespas). Walking from the train station towards the grand canal, we saw tourism like never before. Hoards of people with open-wide eyes and maps in their hands, we fit right in. It seemed as though Venice was the mecca for all the street vendors trying to sell flying saucer toys, squishy desk toys, watches, and purses.
Skipping by the barrage of tourist-aimed activity, however, we discovered a town beyond anything we ever expected. Sure, the town was full of stores either too expensive to even enter or catering to tourist interests, but the town had an inexplicable beauty. Canals sat idly under forgotten bridges in every corner of town. Winding roads ended at canals full of striped-shirt gondoliers. Decadent houses long past their prime lined the moss-covered edges of the beautiful canals. It was easy to see why this city was so popular. Despite its tourist overtaking, the town retained an undeniable beauty that couldn't be matched by anywhere else. It was a different beauty than the Cinque Terre and Como. It was an ugly beauty. And we loved it.
Expecting the worst from Venice, we were very surprised. We were told that it was an over-priced city. Yet we got pizza for dinner for a total of 6 euros, pizza for lunch for a total of 5 euros, and McDonalds for dinner for a total of 10 euros. We even found some of the BEST gelato for only 2 euro 2 flavor double-scoop. Needless to say, if Venice was expensive, we surely didn't notice.
We had nothing planned for Venice other than walk around and explore. We had officially ran out of money and were required to create our own entertainment. This, unfortunately, eliminated the potential for a two-person gondola ride that was priced at nearly 100 euros. Staying true to their nature, however, my parents saved the day with a last second donation of funds that would allow us to go on the gondola if we so chose.
After much debate, however, we decided against it. It wasn't quite as romantic as it looks. The gondoliers are crude, cigarette-smoking, old men that try to swindle you out of money as you walk by their docked gondolas. The gondolas are dated, with worn, grimy velvet, decaying on the seats of where the customers sit. It reminded me a lot of the horses that pull carriages through Central Park. In theory, very romantic. In reality, however, kind of gross and smelly. The money, however, was put to good use, allowing us to survive one more day and then the way back home. Did I mention that on the last day in Como we had to skip lunch and dinner and not eat because we didn't have enough money for it? Needless to say, the money couldn't have come at a better time and was much appreciated.
We still got a feel for Venice gondolas, however, as we took a cheap ferry-esque boat from one side of Venice to the other via the Grand Canal, passing under the Rialto Bridge. Better yet, we payed .50 euros each to have a gondolier take us across the Grand Canal (a task many Venetians require considering only 3 bridges cross the canal). The 1 minute trip was the best money spent the entire trip and was a easily a highlight of our stay in Venice.
Both days spent in Venice were fabulous. We loved everything about it and did not want to leave. Especially for what we had in store.
Day 23
At 2:00 p.m. of our final day in Italy, we took a bus from Venice to the Venice Treviso airport, an hour long trip without air conditioning in the blistering hot Italian sun. Upon arriving, we did nothing but sit and wait. We were there at 3:00 p.m. and our flight left at 10:30. We got pretty bored. Time passed so slowly. Or so we thought.
At about 8:00, it was time for me to jump into action. After buying countless souvenirs, we did not have enough room for all of our stuff. We had come with only 2 backpacks stuffed to the brim with stuff, including clothes in space-bags. But we now had a bag FULL of souvenirs. If you do the math correctly, that left us with 3 bags worth of stuff. Quiz time. Do you think we paid to check our third bag (considering RyanAir strictly allows only one piece of carry-on luggage)? No. Of course not. That would have cost money! So, at 8:00, I went to put on every piece of clothing I had brought for the 3 weeks: Too many socks to count, 10 layers around the waist (including a swimsuit, athletic shorts, khaki shorts and more all stuffed under already-pretty thin fitting jeans), and 8 layers on the top half. I looked, and felt, like the Michelin Man. Steph did the same.
Security must have thought we were idiots as we waddled through security and to our gate, but we were happy. We beat the system and it made us proud. Unfortunately though, there were people who checked your amount of carry-on luggage prior to boarding the plane at your gate, so Steph and I were required to keep our layers on until we landed in Liverpool at midnight. 4 hours in that many clothes got pretty rough pretty quick.
Once in Liverpool, though, we got to take off the layers and relax. Relax all night. From 12:00 to 8:00 a.m. NOW time passed slowly. To our luck, the airport was freezing cold, and had nowhere cozy to stay. Steph and I moved from place to place as she tried to sleep and I remained awake. After finding refuge in the Euro-per-10 minute leather massage chairs, we bunkered in for a long night below a statue of John Lennon.
Day 24
As morning finally broke, and the first buses to Lime Street Train Station arrived, it was all a monotonous journey. Hop on bus, get on train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on next train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on next train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on bus, hop off at Cranbrook Avenue. A one block walk and we were home. It was the middle of the afternoon and we were ready to sleep, something we hadn't done in about 30 hours at this point. But Manchester United was playing. So there was a quick change into our jerseys and off to the pub to watch our favorite team and get some of the horrible English food we have grown to find comforting. We were home.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Spring Break Part 6 (Days 18,19,20)
Day 18
Leaving paradise may have been harder, had it not been for the next destination of our journey. One of the biggest things on my Bucket List from before I can remember has always been to go to Lake Como in Italy. As we hopped on the train, Eurail passes in hand, we waved goodbye to the tropical beauty of the Cinque Terre and tried to contain our excitement. Much like Red wonders if the ocean would be as blue as he always imagined in the closing moments of Shawshank Redemption, I wondered what the place would look like. Were my expectations too high? Was it even worth spending 3 days at? No and yes, respectively.
Lake Como, a magnificent body of water surrounded by the Alps, has numerous towns littered along its shores. Our home base was Varenna, a quiet town with nothing to do but enjoy the view. Lucking out again, we were treated to a room with a magnificent view of the lake. Nothing spectacular by most peoples' opinions, but to us, it was gorgeous.
Walking from the train station to the hotel to lake, my heart began to race. I was prepared for heartbreak but experienced overwhelming jubilation. It was better than in the movies. It was prettier than the post cards. It was spectacular. I wanted to freeze the image in my head. But I knew I couldn't and that video and photos would have to suffice. Disparagingly trying to duplicate intangible beauty left us frustrated and hopeless. For once, we decided we would hog the true beauty. Our families back home could be content with pictures that didn't capture the beauty and video that paled in comparison to real life. But we were there. At last.
The rest of the night was spent with our jaws on the ground and eyes to the horizon. It may have been too cold to eat outside, but we each got a delicious cheese pizza and ate it outside overlooking the lake. Our teeth chattered as we ate the pizza, but we couldn't pass up the luxurious feeling of eating on a posh terrace overlooking a picturesque scene. Totally worth it, minus the ducks nipping our feet trying to get some food. Unfortunately for them, however, the pizza was too good to share.
Day 19:
First thing in the morning, we hopped a ferry to the other side of the lake in order to go to Bellagio. A much more substantial town, Bellagio offered a full day of picnicking, gazing, and shopping. Surprisingly for two poor college kids, we didn't feel out of place in the posh streets of Bellagio. We soaked in all the sights and enjoyed our careless wandering with gelato in hand. For the first time, I tried the popular Italian gelato flavor of Pistachio. Taken aback at first, I grew to LOVE it. Who knew nut-flavored gelato could be so good? The dull green color didn't help its appeal, but the taste made it completely worth it. For dinner, we went to a pizza place and got a "Family size" pizza intended to feed 4-5. The workers laughed until we brought back the empty box. Some of the best pizza we had all trip, we couldn't help but eat like it was our final meal. Which, in a sense, it almost was. Our days in Italy were numbered and we knew that there was not much time left.
Day 20:
Sticking with our plans from the previous 5 days, we did nothing. Relaxed and enjoyed the beautiful weather. The only thing on the schedule was to try and find a TV that was playing the Manchester United vs. Bayern Munich Champions League game that night. Until then, we fed the ducks. Hoping for a cherry on the top of our wonderful Varenna stay, we went down to the bar below our hotel to watch the game in a room full of local Italians that night. Jubilation set in when we went up 3-0. Disappointment took over when the game ended 3-2 (confusingly knocking our team, Manchester, out of the competition). After the week we'd been having however, we didn't care. Soccer could cease to exist if it meant we could stay near Lake Como.
It was a surreal experience spending 3 nights in a place I have dreamed about my whole life. My mind ran on overdrive wondering if it was living up to my expectations. I was worried that something would happen; I would wake up; realize it was a dream. But it wasn't. It was really there and Steph and I weren't ready to leave. The bakery in our hotel, however, had her favorite donut the morning of our departure. Suddenly, Steph was being pulled to the train quicker than ever. Man, that girl and her baked goods. My vice? Gelato. Hers? Delicious pastries. Together? Awful diets.
Leaving paradise may have been harder, had it not been for the next destination of our journey. One of the biggest things on my Bucket List from before I can remember has always been to go to Lake Como in Italy. As we hopped on the train, Eurail passes in hand, we waved goodbye to the tropical beauty of the Cinque Terre and tried to contain our excitement. Much like Red wonders if the ocean would be as blue as he always imagined in the closing moments of Shawshank Redemption, I wondered what the place would look like. Were my expectations too high? Was it even worth spending 3 days at? No and yes, respectively.
Lake Como, a magnificent body of water surrounded by the Alps, has numerous towns littered along its shores. Our home base was Varenna, a quiet town with nothing to do but enjoy the view. Lucking out again, we were treated to a room with a magnificent view of the lake. Nothing spectacular by most peoples' opinions, but to us, it was gorgeous.
Walking from the train station to the hotel to lake, my heart began to race. I was prepared for heartbreak but experienced overwhelming jubilation. It was better than in the movies. It was prettier than the post cards. It was spectacular. I wanted to freeze the image in my head. But I knew I couldn't and that video and photos would have to suffice. Disparagingly trying to duplicate intangible beauty left us frustrated and hopeless. For once, we decided we would hog the true beauty. Our families back home could be content with pictures that didn't capture the beauty and video that paled in comparison to real life. But we were there. At last.
The rest of the night was spent with our jaws on the ground and eyes to the horizon. It may have been too cold to eat outside, but we each got a delicious cheese pizza and ate it outside overlooking the lake. Our teeth chattered as we ate the pizza, but we couldn't pass up the luxurious feeling of eating on a posh terrace overlooking a picturesque scene. Totally worth it, minus the ducks nipping our feet trying to get some food. Unfortunately for them, however, the pizza was too good to share.
Day 19:
First thing in the morning, we hopped a ferry to the other side of the lake in order to go to Bellagio. A much more substantial town, Bellagio offered a full day of picnicking, gazing, and shopping. Surprisingly for two poor college kids, we didn't feel out of place in the posh streets of Bellagio. We soaked in all the sights and enjoyed our careless wandering with gelato in hand. For the first time, I tried the popular Italian gelato flavor of Pistachio. Taken aback at first, I grew to LOVE it. Who knew nut-flavored gelato could be so good? The dull green color didn't help its appeal, but the taste made it completely worth it. For dinner, we went to a pizza place and got a "Family size" pizza intended to feed 4-5. The workers laughed until we brought back the empty box. Some of the best pizza we had all trip, we couldn't help but eat like it was our final meal. Which, in a sense, it almost was. Our days in Italy were numbered and we knew that there was not much time left.
Day 20:
Sticking with our plans from the previous 5 days, we did nothing. Relaxed and enjoyed the beautiful weather. The only thing on the schedule was to try and find a TV that was playing the Manchester United vs. Bayern Munich Champions League game that night. Until then, we fed the ducks. Hoping for a cherry on the top of our wonderful Varenna stay, we went down to the bar below our hotel to watch the game in a room full of local Italians that night. Jubilation set in when we went up 3-0. Disappointment took over when the game ended 3-2 (confusingly knocking our team, Manchester, out of the competition). After the week we'd been having however, we didn't care. Soccer could cease to exist if it meant we could stay near Lake Como.
It was a surreal experience spending 3 nights in a place I have dreamed about my whole life. My mind ran on overdrive wondering if it was living up to my expectations. I was worried that something would happen; I would wake up; realize it was a dream. But it wasn't. It was really there and Steph and I weren't ready to leave. The bakery in our hotel, however, had her favorite donut the morning of our departure. Suddenly, Steph was being pulled to the train quicker than ever. Man, that girl and her baked goods. My vice? Gelato. Hers? Delicious pastries. Together? Awful diets.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Spring Break Part 5 (Days 15,16,17)
Still recovering from the whirlwind trip of Italy, we are here to update you with the next leg of our journey.
Day 15:
With the gelato sitting heavily within our stomachs, we took off for paradise. Before making it there, however, we had a much anticipated, and purely touristy, stop in Pisa. Our plans? Walk to the Leaning Tower, climb up, take funny pictures, and leave. We did exactly that.
We had booked our non-refundable tickets in advance in order to ensure our access to the top of the Tower. Knowing there could be lines and no room, we bit the bullet and payed way too much money for advance tickets. A little part of me worried, however, due to the non-refundable nature of these tickets. I worried because I was told the tower often closed in bad weather. No worries though right? I mean, we hadn't had rain more than once or twice in Italy.
Sitting on the train trying to stay awake, we stopped at a town about 20 minutes outside of Pisa. Nothing unusual besides for the influx of about 10 Nigerian men carrying umbrellas. Had we not been traveling in Italy for 2 weeks, we would have thought nothing of it. But, as you may know, we had become somewhat experienced by then and we knew that these Nigerian men were only to be seen near the large tourist attractions. Normally they sold handbags, but today they had umbrellas. Something clicked in my head that maybe these guys checked the weather...
Stepping off the train and CRACK. Lighting was overhead as rain began to fall. Not a big deal, had it not been for 2 25 buck tickets that were quickly becoming useless in my pocket. I tried my hardest not to mention any of this to Steph as I knew she was ecstatic for our endeavor up the Tower. Thankfully, I never had to break the bad news to her. Luck was on our side as the rain stopped as we hit the Field of Miracles.
We paid a lot of money to climb up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but it was worth every penny. It was a surreal feeling that completely altered your senses. I felt as though I was entering an MC Escher painting. Our trip had to be quick though in order to catch the train to paradise!
Entering paradise, our train went through a long, 2-minute tunnel. Upon exiting the tunnel, my eyes struggled to focus as I looked at what I thought was an extraordinarily bright sky. As they focused, however, I saw the bluest ocean I have ever seen. This is when I knew we had entered paradise: a land known as the Cinque Terre.
Steph and I didn't even wait for the doors to open as we jumped out of the train onto a concrete platform baking in sunlight overlooking the ocean. Was it really the ocean? We have no idea. We figured it is connected to the ocean, so it is the ocean. Check Google Maps and let us know. We didn't care. We were like kids in a candy shop. We had our eyes open wide as we walked to our hotel for our three-night stay.
Whoever said you can't get luxury for cheap? 60 euros a night, and we felt like royalty. Sitting atop the hill in Manarola (town 2 of the 5 Cinque Terre towns), our hotel had only three rooms. Ours had a balcony. If that wasn't cool enough, check out the video whens it's up. What's cooler than waking up to use the bathroom in the morning and before crawling back into bed, stepping out and breathing the fresh air as you look out over the bright blue water framed by pastel houses perched on the side of a cliff?
We then took a walk from town 2 (Manarola) to town 1 (Riomaggiore) via the 'Trail of Love.' A simple 25-minute hike that wrapped around the edge of land overlooking the water, this trail is known for its connection to love. It is covered in amorous graffiti and gushy couples walking hand in hand (like two people I'm sure you all know). Needless to say, we fit right in. There is a local tradition that if you and your significant other lock a padlock in a special, romantic place, that you will have eternal love. Needless to say, we did it.
On our way back, we stopped to have a snack at an outdoor cafe overlooking the water as the sun set. We got cake and hot chocolate as we celebrated the beauty of life. And the hot chocolate was literally hot, melted, chocolate. How yummy. After that, it was aimless gazing and wandering as we begrudgingly left the outdoor beauty of paradise for internal confines of a room. But remember, we did have a balcony!
Day 16:
No time for rest for these 2 kids! Waking up as early as possible, we were determined to hike the entire length of the Cinque Terre, from Manarola (town 2) to Monterosso (town 5), about a 4 hour hike. It was long and difficult, but very much worth it. Spectacular views and countless friendly kitties help motivate our tired bodies to climb the countless hills and stairs. I was very impressed for two non-hikers. This day was to be spent in town 4, Vernazza. Arguably the most dramatic of the 5, Vernazza provided us a day full of nothing but beauty. The itinerary? Relax, cannoli, sit on the rocks and rate the crashing waves, cannoli, pizza, cannoli and slushes. And gelato of course.
We met our favorite Italians of the trip at a local pastry shop. Two true-blooded Sicilians who loved Steph and I had some of the best treats we have ever had. Helping clueless foreigners get the best treats, they taught us how delicious Sicilian pastries are. Stephs favorite? The oversized ricotta cheese cannoli. My favorite? Their homemade fruit slushes with homemade cream. I think Steph loved the place because they called her pretty.
Day 17:
This day? A whole lot of nothing. Nothing at all. We got more pastries of course, but nothing else. It was Easter and we figured that doing nothing was the best way to celebrate the holiday. We sat together and debated why we would soon have to leave. We thought of ways to stay. Would anyone notice if we never came back to civilization? We didn't have internet, no phone, no ties to humanity. Surely no one would notice? Unfortunately, we knew better and realized that our time was limited in this gorgeous chunk of earth. We thought that in order to truly appreciate such a place, we needed to do absolutely nothing and soak in the beauty one last time.
There is something completely calming about the consistent sound of the waves crashing against the rocks. The waves try so hard to be fierce and intimidating, yet they cannot escape the label of soothing. This we noticed as we finished our sugar cone and headed for our temporary home, one last time.
Day 15:
With the gelato sitting heavily within our stomachs, we took off for paradise. Before making it there, however, we had a much anticipated, and purely touristy, stop in Pisa. Our plans? Walk to the Leaning Tower, climb up, take funny pictures, and leave. We did exactly that.
We had booked our non-refundable tickets in advance in order to ensure our access to the top of the Tower. Knowing there could be lines and no room, we bit the bullet and payed way too much money for advance tickets. A little part of me worried, however, due to the non-refundable nature of these tickets. I worried because I was told the tower often closed in bad weather. No worries though right? I mean, we hadn't had rain more than once or twice in Italy.
Sitting on the train trying to stay awake, we stopped at a town about 20 minutes outside of Pisa. Nothing unusual besides for the influx of about 10 Nigerian men carrying umbrellas. Had we not been traveling in Italy for 2 weeks, we would have thought nothing of it. But, as you may know, we had become somewhat experienced by then and we knew that these Nigerian men were only to be seen near the large tourist attractions. Normally they sold handbags, but today they had umbrellas. Something clicked in my head that maybe these guys checked the weather...
Stepping off the train and CRACK. Lighting was overhead as rain began to fall. Not a big deal, had it not been for 2 25 buck tickets that were quickly becoming useless in my pocket. I tried my hardest not to mention any of this to Steph as I knew she was ecstatic for our endeavor up the Tower. Thankfully, I never had to break the bad news to her. Luck was on our side as the rain stopped as we hit the Field of Miracles.
We paid a lot of money to climb up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but it was worth every penny. It was a surreal feeling that completely altered your senses. I felt as though I was entering an MC Escher painting. Our trip had to be quick though in order to catch the train to paradise!
Entering paradise, our train went through a long, 2-minute tunnel. Upon exiting the tunnel, my eyes struggled to focus as I looked at what I thought was an extraordinarily bright sky. As they focused, however, I saw the bluest ocean I have ever seen. This is when I knew we had entered paradise: a land known as the Cinque Terre.
Steph and I didn't even wait for the doors to open as we jumped out of the train onto a concrete platform baking in sunlight overlooking the ocean. Was it really the ocean? We have no idea. We figured it is connected to the ocean, so it is the ocean. Check Google Maps and let us know. We didn't care. We were like kids in a candy shop. We had our eyes open wide as we walked to our hotel for our three-night stay.
Whoever said you can't get luxury for cheap? 60 euros a night, and we felt like royalty. Sitting atop the hill in Manarola (town 2 of the 5 Cinque Terre towns), our hotel had only three rooms. Ours had a balcony. If that wasn't cool enough, check out the video whens it's up. What's cooler than waking up to use the bathroom in the morning and before crawling back into bed, stepping out and breathing the fresh air as you look out over the bright blue water framed by pastel houses perched on the side of a cliff?
We then took a walk from town 2 (Manarola) to town 1 (Riomaggiore) via the 'Trail of Love.' A simple 25-minute hike that wrapped around the edge of land overlooking the water, this trail is known for its connection to love. It is covered in amorous graffiti and gushy couples walking hand in hand (like two people I'm sure you all know). Needless to say, we fit right in. There is a local tradition that if you and your significant other lock a padlock in a special, romantic place, that you will have eternal love. Needless to say, we did it.
On our way back, we stopped to have a snack at an outdoor cafe overlooking the water as the sun set. We got cake and hot chocolate as we celebrated the beauty of life. And the hot chocolate was literally hot, melted, chocolate. How yummy. After that, it was aimless gazing and wandering as we begrudgingly left the outdoor beauty of paradise for internal confines of a room. But remember, we did have a balcony!
Day 16:
No time for rest for these 2 kids! Waking up as early as possible, we were determined to hike the entire length of the Cinque Terre, from Manarola (town 2) to Monterosso (town 5), about a 4 hour hike. It was long and difficult, but very much worth it. Spectacular views and countless friendly kitties help motivate our tired bodies to climb the countless hills and stairs. I was very impressed for two non-hikers. This day was to be spent in town 4, Vernazza. Arguably the most dramatic of the 5, Vernazza provided us a day full of nothing but beauty. The itinerary? Relax, cannoli, sit on the rocks and rate the crashing waves, cannoli, pizza, cannoli and slushes. And gelato of course.
We met our favorite Italians of the trip at a local pastry shop. Two true-blooded Sicilians who loved Steph and I had some of the best treats we have ever had. Helping clueless foreigners get the best treats, they taught us how delicious Sicilian pastries are. Stephs favorite? The oversized ricotta cheese cannoli. My favorite? Their homemade fruit slushes with homemade cream. I think Steph loved the place because they called her pretty.
Day 17:
This day? A whole lot of nothing. Nothing at all. We got more pastries of course, but nothing else. It was Easter and we figured that doing nothing was the best way to celebrate the holiday. We sat together and debated why we would soon have to leave. We thought of ways to stay. Would anyone notice if we never came back to civilization? We didn't have internet, no phone, no ties to humanity. Surely no one would notice? Unfortunately, we knew better and realized that our time was limited in this gorgeous chunk of earth. We thought that in order to truly appreciate such a place, we needed to do absolutely nothing and soak in the beauty one last time.
There is something completely calming about the consistent sound of the waves crashing against the rocks. The waves try so hard to be fierce and intimidating, yet they cannot escape the label of soothing. This we noticed as we finished our sugar cone and headed for our temporary home, one last time.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Spring Break Part 4 (Days 11,12,13,14)
Day 11
After waking up one last time in beautiful Siena and enjoying our ritual morning gelato, it was to the bus station, Volterra in sight. Still new to the use of buses as transportation instead of trains, we mistakingly took a bus on a half-hour circular trip around the city of Siena. Once we pulled up to the stop in which we started, Steph looked at me and said "Uh...I don't think this is Colle Val D'elsa (our intended layover connection)." Angry about the mistake, we reused our bus tickets and hopped on the right bus. This time, we made it to our layover stop in Colla Val D'elsa before connecting to the beautiful hill town of Volterra.
Unfortunately for us, our lodging was located on the outer corner of Volterra, a 10 minute walk from the town center. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue, but our quickly growing backpacks made it so. We saved money by booking a room in an active convent for only 26 euros. Everything was nice and pleasing, but it was still a bit odd. I mean, it was a true convent. Imagine...staying in a church. The halls were vast and tall enough to hear an echo. Being the only ones staying there only made things creepier.
The stars were not aligned for us to fall in love with Volterra. The town was beautiful, with arguably one of the best Tuscan views we had seen, but weather and health trumped that joy. It was the coldest day of the trip, with sweatshirts and jackets barely keeping us warm enough to explore. An unnecessarily long morning of bus travel had made both of us fatigued and left me somewhat sick. Sick enough to only get gelato twice that day. Needless to say, with bad weather, tired kids, a boring city, and a long walk, we spent a good amount of time in the creepy convent.
Days 12/13/14
It was another morning of bus travel, but by then we were champs. 2 smooth bus rides and we were in the city that may have very well been the biggest surprise of our trip. While not our favorite city, Florence blew our expectations. Unlike Rome, we were not able to both splurge on food and visit all of the historical monuments. For these 3 days, it was one or the other. Did I mention Florence is the capital of gelato? Food won, and historical monuments were neglected. In fact, our stay in Florence may very well be best described by our numerous gelato conquests. All 10 of them.
The town of Florence was beautiful and clean. There was plenty of window shopping as we walked by shops selling things we will never be able to afford. Every gelato stop was a success and we each eventually picked a favorite. Mine was called Grom (and turns out to be an Italian chain) and its specialty is all natural ingredients and a menu that changes in accordance with local fruits and produce. Stephs was the fabulous Festival Del Gelato which provided a parade of amazing flavors (Strawberry Cheesecake being the best).
We treated ourselves to laundry for the first, and only, time this trip. Considering we were surviving out of our backpacks for the entire trip, clothes were constantly re-worn and packed into stench-filled plastic bags. Putting on clean clothes is a beautiful feeling that is taken for granted.
The only thing spoiling our pleasant stay in such a nice town was our lodging. While the price was nice and the location was excellent, the habitat was awful. 1. They made us switch rooms after night one. 2. Our light did not work. 3. The double bed was two twins pushed together. 4. They did not turn on the heat and would not allow us to have a blanket. We saw one in the hall and put it in our room, and they came in and took it out saying that the sheet and the comforter were enough. Above all these issues, however, was the unbearable volume of our hosts. A true Italian couple, these two individuals did not understand the concept of keeping it down. They celebrated and watched TV outside of the rooms until midnight and were up yelling at 7 a.m. Considering how thin the walls in Europe are, this was unbearable. I can sleep through a lot, but not this. And it was nonstop. About nothing to boot. Just simple chit chat that they thought would be better communicated through shouting across the hall. We would've caught up on sleep during the day, but our luck provided construction on the street below from 10 to 5.
Crummy hosts didn't ruin our stay in Florence though. Clearly surpassing Volterra, Florence left us with an unmistakable impression of beautiful Italy at its nicest. A heaven where gelato is on every corner, Florence was a quiet and peaceful Rome.
Before leaving, however, we jetted off to Fiesole simply for the view. On a hill overlooking Florence, Fiesole provided a breathtaking visual and little more. A few pastry shops and gelato rounded off the trip that was unfortunately hindered by the hazy, cold weather. The trip may have been a complete waste had it not been for the curiously humorous event involving an angry Italian and an oblivious tourist. As buses and cars were stopping at the cross walk in front of the bus station, a man on a scooter was doing the all-too-typical Italian driving style and cutting back and forth between cars as he honked his horn. The cross walk signaled to stop walking, which everyone did, as the scooter proceeded to accelerate while honking his horn. This is when I looked up. And this is when I saw a middle aged asian man obliviously walking in the street get hit by a scooter.
It was one of the moments when you don't know what to think. As his coffee and bags flew across the street and the Italian angrily threw down his scooter and walked to the injured man, the severity of the event was unknown. I wanted to laugh but I didn't know if it was because I am a bad person or if it is the psychological argument that says people laugh when they are uncomfortable. Upon learning that the accident was not serious, I felt better about my reaction. Because I laughed. Sheepishly, sure, but a laugh is still a laugh. Thankfully no one was hurt and Steph and I were provided with an innocent mental image of a dramatic Italian moped accident.
Im trying to catch up with these posts, but there is so much to say with so little time and internet access! You guys will be hit with a barrage of updates in the next few days as we get back into our rhythm at Hull. Right now, however, it is 4:36 AM at the Liverpool airport and the computer is about dead. Stay tuned for part 5: Pisa and Cinque Terre!
After waking up one last time in beautiful Siena and enjoying our ritual morning gelato, it was to the bus station, Volterra in sight. Still new to the use of buses as transportation instead of trains, we mistakingly took a bus on a half-hour circular trip around the city of Siena. Once we pulled up to the stop in which we started, Steph looked at me and said "Uh...I don't think this is Colle Val D'elsa (our intended layover connection)." Angry about the mistake, we reused our bus tickets and hopped on the right bus. This time, we made it to our layover stop in Colla Val D'elsa before connecting to the beautiful hill town of Volterra.
Unfortunately for us, our lodging was located on the outer corner of Volterra, a 10 minute walk from the town center. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue, but our quickly growing backpacks made it so. We saved money by booking a room in an active convent for only 26 euros. Everything was nice and pleasing, but it was still a bit odd. I mean, it was a true convent. Imagine...staying in a church. The halls were vast and tall enough to hear an echo. Being the only ones staying there only made things creepier.
The stars were not aligned for us to fall in love with Volterra. The town was beautiful, with arguably one of the best Tuscan views we had seen, but weather and health trumped that joy. It was the coldest day of the trip, with sweatshirts and jackets barely keeping us warm enough to explore. An unnecessarily long morning of bus travel had made both of us fatigued and left me somewhat sick. Sick enough to only get gelato twice that day. Needless to say, with bad weather, tired kids, a boring city, and a long walk, we spent a good amount of time in the creepy convent.
Days 12/13/14
It was another morning of bus travel, but by then we were champs. 2 smooth bus rides and we were in the city that may have very well been the biggest surprise of our trip. While not our favorite city, Florence blew our expectations. Unlike Rome, we were not able to both splurge on food and visit all of the historical monuments. For these 3 days, it was one or the other. Did I mention Florence is the capital of gelato? Food won, and historical monuments were neglected. In fact, our stay in Florence may very well be best described by our numerous gelato conquests. All 10 of them.
The town of Florence was beautiful and clean. There was plenty of window shopping as we walked by shops selling things we will never be able to afford. Every gelato stop was a success and we each eventually picked a favorite. Mine was called Grom (and turns out to be an Italian chain) and its specialty is all natural ingredients and a menu that changes in accordance with local fruits and produce. Stephs was the fabulous Festival Del Gelato which provided a parade of amazing flavors (Strawberry Cheesecake being the best).
We treated ourselves to laundry for the first, and only, time this trip. Considering we were surviving out of our backpacks for the entire trip, clothes were constantly re-worn and packed into stench-filled plastic bags. Putting on clean clothes is a beautiful feeling that is taken for granted.
The only thing spoiling our pleasant stay in such a nice town was our lodging. While the price was nice and the location was excellent, the habitat was awful. 1. They made us switch rooms after night one. 2. Our light did not work. 3. The double bed was two twins pushed together. 4. They did not turn on the heat and would not allow us to have a blanket. We saw one in the hall and put it in our room, and they came in and took it out saying that the sheet and the comforter were enough. Above all these issues, however, was the unbearable volume of our hosts. A true Italian couple, these two individuals did not understand the concept of keeping it down. They celebrated and watched TV outside of the rooms until midnight and were up yelling at 7 a.m. Considering how thin the walls in Europe are, this was unbearable. I can sleep through a lot, but not this. And it was nonstop. About nothing to boot. Just simple chit chat that they thought would be better communicated through shouting across the hall. We would've caught up on sleep during the day, but our luck provided construction on the street below from 10 to 5.
Crummy hosts didn't ruin our stay in Florence though. Clearly surpassing Volterra, Florence left us with an unmistakable impression of beautiful Italy at its nicest. A heaven where gelato is on every corner, Florence was a quiet and peaceful Rome.
Before leaving, however, we jetted off to Fiesole simply for the view. On a hill overlooking Florence, Fiesole provided a breathtaking visual and little more. A few pastry shops and gelato rounded off the trip that was unfortunately hindered by the hazy, cold weather. The trip may have been a complete waste had it not been for the curiously humorous event involving an angry Italian and an oblivious tourist. As buses and cars were stopping at the cross walk in front of the bus station, a man on a scooter was doing the all-too-typical Italian driving style and cutting back and forth between cars as he honked his horn. The cross walk signaled to stop walking, which everyone did, as the scooter proceeded to accelerate while honking his horn. This is when I looked up. And this is when I saw a middle aged asian man obliviously walking in the street get hit by a scooter.
It was one of the moments when you don't know what to think. As his coffee and bags flew across the street and the Italian angrily threw down his scooter and walked to the injured man, the severity of the event was unknown. I wanted to laugh but I didn't know if it was because I am a bad person or if it is the psychological argument that says people laugh when they are uncomfortable. Upon learning that the accident was not serious, I felt better about my reaction. Because I laughed. Sheepishly, sure, but a laugh is still a laugh. Thankfully no one was hurt and Steph and I were provided with an innocent mental image of a dramatic Italian moped accident.
Im trying to catch up with these posts, but there is so much to say with so little time and internet access! You guys will be hit with a barrage of updates in the next few days as we get back into our rhythm at Hull. Right now, however, it is 4:36 AM at the Liverpool airport and the computer is about dead. Stay tuned for part 5: Pisa and Cinque Terre!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Spring Break Part 3 (Days 7,8,9,10)
Day 7: We left the wonderful city of Rome with the Umbrian hilltown of Orvieto in sight. After a scare thinking we lost my credit card, we arrived in Orvieto cash in hand. The lodging was surely the highlight of the trip, putting all other rooms to shame. Placed atop a lush countryside hill, our room was equipped with a private bathroom and private terrace. It was a luxurious bed and breakfast with all the amenities we had forgotten about staying in hostels. If only the owners spoke a word of English.
Thankfully for us, it was market day in Orvieto. We quickly bought pastries and postcards and set off to explore the town. After catching our breath from the stunning views, we hopped a bus to nearby Chivita. We had debated whether or not to spend the money for bus fare, but were quickly thankful of our decision as we approached the town on a cliff. Requiring a 10 minute hike up a bridge simply to reach the town, Chivita was its own separate world. Cut off from all of civilization, the town had no more than 4 restaurants and what appeared to be fewer residents. There seemed to be more cats than residents, a fact we greatly enjoyed.
After basking in the sun and eating pastries, we were approached by some curious kitties. Numerous came and went, but only one, a Buddy clone that we named Chivvy, stayed with us the entire time. Content to sleep in our arms, the cat enjoyed our company and would not leave our side. After convincing Steph we couldnt take him with us, it was time to head back to reality.
Day 8: It was unfortunate that we only booked one night in Orvieto, for the stay was beyond pleasant. The breakfast of cake, toast, and juice fueled our travels towards hill town number 3: Cortona. The basis of the book/movie Under the Tuscan Sun, Cortona was a beautiful place perfectly content to just sit atop a dramatic mountain. We would not complain. For this day had nothing planned other than roam the city. Which we did. All day. With gelato in hand of course.
Dinner was a treat of tortellini and ravioli, but disaster soon struck as the desired gelateria was closed. After bountiful pouting, I discovered that nothing beats gelato for breakfast. And so I knew as we headed back to the convent/hotel for a quick nights sleep.
Day 9/10: The gelato did not dissapoint as I awoke from a cold nights sleep. Bundled up under sweatshirts, we ate our morning gelato in the face of cold weather and strong winds. Unfortunately for us, it turns out, towns perched atop hills do little little to block the already cold weather. The bus driver must have seen our forlorn faces as he allowed us the ride the bus down to the train station for free.
Hopping a train to Siena, we were more than excited. Some slow days in lazy hill towns had rejuvenated us and made us ready for the excellence of Siena. Siena kept with the theme of the past few cities, and allowed us 2 days full of nothing. Shopping, eating, and gelato filled the agenda as we made Il Campo our second home.
Travelers luck was on our side as we were somehow upgraded from a shared bathroom double into a luxury suite, complete with a bathroom, kitchen, and terrace. There was enough room to run laps in the room! What a great surprise. This simply added to the joy that we experienced in Siena.
It is pointless to separate each day and explain our itineraries, for each was equally empty and enjoyable. Imagine wandering a quaint town, eating gelato that magically seemed to reappear every 2 hours, and enjoying the peacfull bliss of doing nothing. It was vacationing at its finest as we forgot about life and slowed things down to a level never reached by us before. 2 days originally seemed much too long is this uneventful town, but in hindsight, it was nowehere near long enough.
These days were quickly explained and did not recieve the justice they deserved. This can be contributed to both the inexplicable nature of this leg of our trip and the lack of time available for my explanations (as the clock in the right hand corner of my screen ticks below 4 minutes, indicating the amount of internet time left in this dingy internet cafe). Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors and typos, but the Italian keybards are much differen (I cant find an apostrophe), I cant figure how to turn on spell check on this computer, and I have no time to proof read. Oh well. Italy rocks. I got gelato 4 times yesterday. We will catch you all up to speed soon. So much to see!
Thankfully for us, it was market day in Orvieto. We quickly bought pastries and postcards and set off to explore the town. After catching our breath from the stunning views, we hopped a bus to nearby Chivita. We had debated whether or not to spend the money for bus fare, but were quickly thankful of our decision as we approached the town on a cliff. Requiring a 10 minute hike up a bridge simply to reach the town, Chivita was its own separate world. Cut off from all of civilization, the town had no more than 4 restaurants and what appeared to be fewer residents. There seemed to be more cats than residents, a fact we greatly enjoyed.
After basking in the sun and eating pastries, we were approached by some curious kitties. Numerous came and went, but only one, a Buddy clone that we named Chivvy, stayed with us the entire time. Content to sleep in our arms, the cat enjoyed our company and would not leave our side. After convincing Steph we couldnt take him with us, it was time to head back to reality.
Day 8: It was unfortunate that we only booked one night in Orvieto, for the stay was beyond pleasant. The breakfast of cake, toast, and juice fueled our travels towards hill town number 3: Cortona. The basis of the book/movie Under the Tuscan Sun, Cortona was a beautiful place perfectly content to just sit atop a dramatic mountain. We would not complain. For this day had nothing planned other than roam the city. Which we did. All day. With gelato in hand of course.
Dinner was a treat of tortellini and ravioli, but disaster soon struck as the desired gelateria was closed. After bountiful pouting, I discovered that nothing beats gelato for breakfast. And so I knew as we headed back to the convent/hotel for a quick nights sleep.
Day 9/10: The gelato did not dissapoint as I awoke from a cold nights sleep. Bundled up under sweatshirts, we ate our morning gelato in the face of cold weather and strong winds. Unfortunately for us, it turns out, towns perched atop hills do little little to block the already cold weather. The bus driver must have seen our forlorn faces as he allowed us the ride the bus down to the train station for free.
Hopping a train to Siena, we were more than excited. Some slow days in lazy hill towns had rejuvenated us and made us ready for the excellence of Siena. Siena kept with the theme of the past few cities, and allowed us 2 days full of nothing. Shopping, eating, and gelato filled the agenda as we made Il Campo our second home.
Travelers luck was on our side as we were somehow upgraded from a shared bathroom double into a luxury suite, complete with a bathroom, kitchen, and terrace. There was enough room to run laps in the room! What a great surprise. This simply added to the joy that we experienced in Siena.
It is pointless to separate each day and explain our itineraries, for each was equally empty and enjoyable. Imagine wandering a quaint town, eating gelato that magically seemed to reappear every 2 hours, and enjoying the peacfull bliss of doing nothing. It was vacationing at its finest as we forgot about life and slowed things down to a level never reached by us before. 2 days originally seemed much too long is this uneventful town, but in hindsight, it was nowehere near long enough.
These days were quickly explained and did not recieve the justice they deserved. This can be contributed to both the inexplicable nature of this leg of our trip and the lack of time available for my explanations (as the clock in the right hand corner of my screen ticks below 4 minutes, indicating the amount of internet time left in this dingy internet cafe). Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors and typos, but the Italian keybards are much differen (I cant find an apostrophe), I cant figure how to turn on spell check on this computer, and I have no time to proof read. Oh well. Italy rocks. I got gelato 4 times yesterday. We will catch you all up to speed soon. So much to see!
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