Smells Like Florentine Spirit*

Florence is the Yin to Rome's Yang. It's Italy's San Luis Obispo where Rome is its Los Angeles. It's civil and clean and upscale. It's small and homey and easy to navigate. We spent four relaxing nights in an adorable B&B on the first floor (Americans call it the 2^nd floor) of an old stone building by the river. We did not wake up to cars honking and people yelling. We instead awoke to the smell of cappuccino and the murmur of our fellow guests having their breakfast down the hall.

We walked around the town each day and it was pleasant and comfortable. The weather was beautiful most of the time and the city is extremely inviting. The city itself has less than half a million people which tones down the pace of life already, as compared to the metropolises we've already encountered (Rome, Naples). I'm not sure exactly why Florence is so much more calm and clean than cities in the south, but it seems to be just the way it is. Our friend from the language class described the different regions of Italy as all being extremely different; it's quite a phenomenon.

Before we go any further, may I direct you to my Florence Photo Album to go along with this entry.

The main site in Florence is the Duomo (Dome) of the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, a huge cathedral with a gigantic brick (yes, brick!) dome completed in 1436 and engineered by Brunelleschi which was the largest of its kind at the time, and still the largest masonry dome in the world. Huge engineering feat and all that. And it's still standing there, the tallest structure in the city, its enormous unreinforced brick dome held together by ancient timber tension rings. Yep, the thrust (pardon the engineer speak – thrust just means outward force) of the dome is taken out by concentric wood beams tied sloppily together with iron fittings. I have no idea how that's possible, but apparently they were a lot more efficient at engineering back in the day**.

We trudged up the mildly terrifying 483 steps to the top of the Duomo and had a grand old time elbowing other tourists (I aim for the German ones) for some spectacular views of the city below. Fun! And, our hotel was so close to town (about 15 minute walk down the scenic riverside) that we were able to head to the room for a mid-day rest whenever we wanted. Quite a change from our endurance-challenge in Rome.

We spent the rest of our time wandering around the streets (safe, clean, pretty), looking in shop fronts (expensive), eating (pizza, gelato, no change here), and seeing the few sights. There actually are quite a few things to see in the city, but they're not exactly Rome caliber. Aside from the Duomo, we walked across the famous old bridge, Ponte Vecchio, lined in jewelry shops; we strolled the piazza adjacent the Uffizi Gallery and photographed the replica David statue standing in the original's spot; we hiked up the hill to the southeast of the city to view the city from above at Piazzale Michelangelo (the Wiki entry has a rad panoramic - my pic below is just ok).


We even paid outrageous admission to see the real statue of David in the Archeological Museum in the north of the town. It really is an incredible statue; we were adequately impressed. Other than that, we really didn't do a whole lot and that was fine for us. Our trip is winding down and so are we. It's time to be done with these shenanigans. But not before just a few more stops...Cinque Terre on the northwest coast, Venice in the northeast, Munich one last time, and then a brief stop in New York City before we are reacquainted again with the smiling faces of our California (and Oregon, for Kane) friends and family.

*It's a play on words of the Nirvana song Smells Like Teen Spirit. It was hard to come up with a pun for the title since "Florence" and "Florentine" don't rhyme with much anything. Other candidates were: A Florence by Any Other Name, and Eggs Florentine. If you can think of a good one, I'd be curious to see; please leave a comment.

**Now we would use steel for such things; it is far better in tension than wood, as you might imagine. And it degrades far less easily.

Picture Ketchup

Not ketchup, silly, catch-up! I run out of titles for these posts, you know? Gotta change it up a bit, keep you on your toes.

The point is that I've been blathering on about all these wonderful things for the past couple weeks but have been hoarding the visuals all to myself. They're all mine! You can't see!! Ok, yes you can. And here you shall.

Let's get caught up. Way back when, we were in Switzerland and then stopped through Munich to catch a glimpse of Oktoberfest. Remember these things? Well, here are some pictures so you can see.

Switzerland and Oktoberfest Pictures

Where after that...oh yes, we flew over to Roma. And took a respectable amount of pictures there, as deserved. She's such a pretty city, if you look over the beggars and around the dog doo. Pictures, coming up!

Rome Pictures

Next stop was a little detour down south to Naples where we dodged some serious garbage-ridden streets and made it over to the ancient cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum. Feast your eyes on these pics!

Pompeii and Herculaneum Pictures

Ah, there. Now we're just about caught up. At this very moment we've just arrived in Venice after spending four days in Cinque Terre and four days before that in Florence. So, we're not exactly caught up, are we? No, but we're getting there. Shortly I will tell you tales of Florence with visual aides ready and waiting, and then I will describe the wonders of beautiful Cinque Terre before, finally, revealing all there is to know about Venice*! The blog finale awaits!

*By "all there is to know", I mean all that I know. There is a significant gap between the two that I thought would be prudent to tell you about. We do live in a very litigious society, you know.

Let's Talk Pompeii

Do you like really old stuff? How about volcanoes? How about time travel?? Well, if you like the first two, have I got a couple places for you to see! If you like the third then read a damn book or go watch Star Trek or something. We're talking old ruined towns here, not Picard's journey back to the 19th century*, and Pompeii and Herculaneum are certainly world-class.

So, brief, relatively accurate historical summary: in the early centuries B.C. there were people around Mount Vesuvius and they were living the life. They built their little stone cities, they partied on the beach, they oppressed the women and slaves, or whatever they did for fun back then. Then, in 62 A.D. there was a gnarly earthquake that knocked a lot of their neat little un-engineered buildings down. They started to put them back up, but just 17 years later in 79, Mount Vesuvius threw a huge hissy fit and rained ash and pumice down on all the surrounding little towns killing everyone around and burying everything under tons and tons of volcano goo.

Fast forward to 1700 years later when someone accidentally finds these buried towns and begins unofficial excavations. A bunch of cool stuff was pillaged from the sites for the next many years and then real excavations started in the mid-1800's. Even today both sites are still being excavated, and a good chunk of Herculaneum is trapped under the modern day city with no apparent plans to unearth it.

Whew! Ok, so there you go. Obviously, the cool thing about these places is the way that the volcano's ashes covered the cities, preserving them almost perfectly for so long. Pompeii was buried below 12-60 feet of ash and mud and Herculaneum below around 60 feet (though there appears to be some discrepancy - get it together Wikipedia editors!) and besides the burnt remains of any organics (wood, people, food, clothes) and the structural collapses from the weight of the debris, most everything else in the city remained intact underground for 1700 years.

During the extensive excavations, they have found all sorts of pottery, tools, statues, frescoes on the walls, and mosaic tiled floors, in addition, of course, to half of all the buildings (the bottom half, typically) revealing the exact layout of the towns' streets and structures. The archaeologists seem to know the purpose of each of the buildings (houses, stores, brothels, etc) and, often, who the owners of the residences were. It's pretty amazing.

If you've never heard of Herculaneum, it's basically just another town about 10 miles away from Pompeii that suffered a similar fate. The place is far smaller but even better preserved. The cool thing about Herculaneum is that it wasn't initially in the path of the volcano's main pyroclastic flows so many of the houses filled up with ash and debris before the wind shifted and the real poo hit the fan. Therefore, many of the structures were all nicely supported by this debris and many of the roofs didn't collapse. So there's a bunch of buildings almost entirely in-tact, roof and all. It's so cool!


Also, since the initial stuff that rained down on Herculaneum wasn't a bagillion-gillion degrees, it didn't entirely destroy every piece of wood in the place. It singed most of it to hell and certainly killed all the people no problem, but there are still some of the wood beams in place that were there 2000 years ago. Now that is rad.

On Sunday, after taking longer to figure out the stupid train system than we actually spent at the site, we finally made it to Herculaneum for a mid-afternoon visit. It was a beautiful day, as seems to be standard in southern Italy in October, and the place was stunning. This site is far smaller than Pompeii and is therefore a bit more manageable. Though I think I still could go back ten more times and find something new each time. It's a maze of cobbled streets with a grid of ruins all around it. But, as I mentioned, some of the structures are almost completely in-tact. Click the collage to see it larger:


Plus, since it's totally a tourist thing, it's cleaner and quieter than any place around**, which was a nice change from hanging out in Naples. Loved it, would highly recommend.

Monday we took the same train (less difficulty this time - we're pros now) further down and walked around the sprawling ruins of Pompeii. The place is 164 acres, 2/3 of which is excavated (or so they tell me). It's massive. You might imagine, knowing our patience levels, that we did not see every building . And, to be honest, by the end they sort of all look the same. But still, super awesome ruins, beautiful surrounding area, and most excellent prehistoric brothel ever (complete with stone beds - ouch!).


I'm really glad we decided to do one site each day instead of cram them both together one after another. They really are both worth a good look. Apparently there are three smaller sites around there too which we did not have time for. I certainly would not mind returning someday to do it all again and stop by the smaller ones as well.

So, until next time Pompeii, I hope you can stick around for another few years so that we may meet again.

*As seen in the last episode of Season 5: Time's Arrow. I wasn't hating on Star Trek nerds, I was just pointing out that this is not today's topic.

**There was definitely a barrier of garbage bags that built up on a street between the ruins and the train station such that we were able to skirt the garbage on the way down but had to find an alternate route on the way back up. These people have a serious garbage problem.

Naples: Love It or Hate It

Naples belongs in a category by itself. It should not be in Italy. It should be in, say, Thailand. Mexico maybe. I had thought Rome was chaotic and dirty. Rome's got nothing on Naples.

After arriving by train (another topic altogether - everything's a fiasco in this country) on Saturday (the 3rd), we wound our way though the city on foot to find our hostel. The hostel was about 2km or so away from the train station, so I estimated that we could handle the 20-30 minute walk with our bags. We soon found that our bags were the least of our worries.

The place looked like a war zone. People (often African or middle easterners for some reason) have rickety tables displaying all types of junk for sale - crappy knock off sunglasses, belts, cell phones, jewelry, umbrellas, watches, corded home phones (must have apprehended these from 1985), etc, etc - that line every sizable street and piazza. The traffic is complete chaos and I'm terribly surprised that cars are able to move at all. Pedestrians and scooters do whatever the hell they want. Helmets are loosely suggested (though I sort of wanted one even as a pedestrian). The movement of the cars is only limited by their size and the speed at which they can accelerate.

And, more noticeably, there is garbage everywhere. Graffiti covers every available surface. I was suddenly very aware that we were both carelessly dressed in flip-flops and in constant danger of stepping in broken glass (which seemed to cover the entirety of the ground surface quite evenly), dog doo, or any number of other kinds of filth (tossed sandwiches, rotting donuts, syringes). It was heinous.

I feared that only cut-throats or the desperately poor (i.e. cut-throats) would live in these conditions, but, surprisingly, the people looked rather normal. Most of the other folks out for a stroll were well dressed with combed hair. They appeared to have homes and showers and cash. I'm not exactly sure what is going on in this town that normal people would choose to live in third world conditions and we didn't stay long enough to find out. I heard rumors about things to do with the mafia, but like I said, we didn't pry.

After our first run through the town, however, I started to get used to it. The very worst parts are right next to the train station and as you venture further out in the city, it mellows out a bit. And though it appears that thieves and hooligans would be waiting around every corner to mug you, we never actually felt threatened, even at night. I think we fly under the radar with Kane being a relatively large man, the two of us always being together, and neither of us appearing particularly well-off (no jewelry, plastic watches, blue jeans, dirty shoes). Anyway, we were able to enjoy ourselves despite the initial fright.

I found myself continuing to swing wildly between hating and loving the place during our 3-night stay. I would become very tense walking down the streets with men offering me iPhones out of their jacket pockets, but then I would be so happy to find an excellent pizza place. I would be completely fed up with the lack of clarity at the train station* but then feel completely content browsing the peaceful nearby ruins of Herculaneum. It was definitely an odd experience.

My final conclusion is that Naples itself is actually a really cool town. I think it has some sights to see and could be quite fun. Unfortunately, we only booked our two days there to see the nearby archaeological digs of Herculaneum and Pompeii, and spent the rest of our time in Naples deciding whether it was horrible or not. Maybe another time, Naples.

*The train station is under construction, as if an Italian train terminal needs further confusion. The day before we left, I stood in one plaza and could see four different signs pointing me four different directions to the restroom. And, unlike in the US, there were not actually bathrooms all four directions. In fact, I couldn't find any of them (the signs appeared to be circular) and had to use the nearby McDonald's (at least some things are constant the world over). Everything at the train station was roughly this difficult.

Rome: The Sights

No, we do not mean Rome, Ohio. Or even Rome, Indiana. Weather.com, I would like to suggest you get your act together. Sorry, needed to vent.

There are a million things to see and do in (the real) Rome. Undoubtedly, a person could stay a year, nay live there their whole life and not see all the sights Rome has to offer. Needless to say we had not the time nor the patience to “see it all”. We did manage to hit up the Big Ones though. Please refer below for a numbered list followed by a witty description of each sight.

1. The Vatican. This place is a doozy. It's got the immense St. Peter's Basilica on the one side and then gracefully encased in the remaining walled-off area there are gardens and buildings and, more notably (and accessibly), the Vatican Museums, ending in the infamous Sistine Chapel. Basilica: cool. It's giant, it's got light flooding in, it's epically decorated*. Museums: boring. So much stuff that nothing looks spectacular compared to all the glam around it. It's hot, it's crowded, we had no guide. No photos allowed in the Sistine Chapel and if you take one, you get harasses like you're an 8 year old who just stole a candy bar**. It just wasn't for us.


2. The Colosseum. You know, the old Colosseum thing? In Rome? On all the post cards? Cool place, very neat. They need to get it together though with the people offering tours who flag you down outside the place and negotiate you into their tour. It feels like they're conning you even though they're really not.


3. Palatine Hill and The Roman Forum. This is all the excavated ruin stuff just next to the Colosseum. It's sort of a smattering of parts of buildings from 2000-3000 years ago. It's really cool stuff, but again, there aren't any signs so you have to either know what's there already, have a guide, or not really care what you're looking at. We were in group 3 and had a good time.


4. The Pantheon. Old, simple, free. What's not to like?

5. Trevi Fountain. Iconic fountain in old town Rome. Apparently one of the first non-religious commissioned art projects in Rome, or at least that's what I think our new friend from the language class told us (she's a professor and author of Art History). Very pretty at night.


6. Spanish Steps. In my opinion, not really one of the more exciting sights in Rome, but for some reason very famous. Nice place for a sit down on a hot day or to do some people watching. Also, just near our language school which made it (the school) easy to find.

This along with countless hours strolling the backward, mish-mosh of streets that they use for a downtown, which is a sight in and of itself, really. Rome is the only major modern city I've ever seen that didn't, at some point, bulldoze all the nonsensical cobbled alleyways built a thousand years ago and install a more organized system of streets. Some towns in Germany or England will have the cute little preserved "Old Town" area of town where gift shops and ice cream stands linger triumphantly, but they certainly don't use these areas as the living, breathing heart of their city. Rome doesn't seem to mind.

So that was Rome. We took a zillion pictures that I still need to sort through and post to Picasa, but that will have to wait. Off to other parts of this crazy country!

*Apparently they didn't have Ikea back then. Too bad for them, they had to use more than just allen wrenches to construct the thing.

**Paraphrased dialog between random stupid tourist and security guard:
Security: Mam, you're not allowed to take pictures in here. Do you want to be escorted out?
Dumb tourist shakes her head.
Security: Because if you take pictures in here, you will be made to leave. Do you understand?
Dumb tourist nods.
Security guard meets up with other guards and continue to loudly "SHHHH" the hundreds of people crammed in the room together.

A Whole New Language

I'd thought of taking a language class in Italy a while ago, when we were planning this trip. Once I realized we'd have a few weeks here at the end of the trip, I thought the opportunity was perfect.

I looked up a few language schools around the country and found a nice looking one in Rome. We were originally intending on starting in Venice and working our way South through Italy, but since many of the schools are in Rome, we decided to start there and train North.

We registered for a relatively expensive (in my opinion) one-week long class at Italia Idea language school right in the heart of Rome. People typically register for longer than one week, but we didn't have the time to stay longer. We started last Monday, attended four 3-hour classes (and one relatively useless city tour and cultural orientation - they were in Italian), ending last Friday. We were wary of doing this for a few reasons: a)It might be a waste of time since you can't learn very much of a language in only one week; b)The school might be total crap and not be enjoyable or helpful at all; c)The class might be paced too slowly or too fast and be very frustrating.

Also, it was a bit pricey and you know how I hate wasting money. But, after a week of class with 3 other people (2 Americans, 1 Aussie, all girls) and one excellent teacher, we learned a good amount and had some fun. We are far from fluent, but I can count to one hundred*, ask how much something costs, greet people, etc. We got as far as all that plus learning the indefinite and definite articles, learning plural and singular nouns, and some random vocabulary based mostly on restaurant menus and items in the room with us (table, chair, window, etc).

It really was a solid intro to the language (it's very similar to Spanish, by the way) and it gave us a nice focus for a week, which we haven't had for a long time. Our schedule was such that we woke in the mornings for breakfast and internet in our hotel, did some sight-seeing for a few hours (usually a different sight each day; there are many in Rome), and then made it over to our class at 3:30, usually having dinner afterward around 7.


We had five very full days with lots of walking (and sweating - it's still warm down here), learning, and picture-taking. Io amo Italia!

*I can never remember the number for 17 because it's far too long of a word and doesn't follow the same rules as all the rest of the numbers. (Diciassette is seventeen in Italian - but I cheated to tell you that)

In-Flight Italians

Our flight from Munich to Rome last Sunday (Sept 27) was not exactly our first time on an airplane. It was, however, our first time on a flight to Italy. I had not expected anything different than any other flight I've ever been on, but that's where I was wrong. This flight was full of Italians.

Even though the flight was leaving from Germany, most people appeared to be speaking Italian rather than German. Though it is hard to tell since Italian appears to be spoken at a far louder volume than other languages.

To start, the people milling around terminal were rambunctious. I thought there were just some larger groups of people together and that they were excited to go wherever they were going, so they were a bit chatty. Fine, no big deal. Unlike other trips though, this continued throughout the entire flight. It was like a damn family reunion on the plane. There were at least half a dozen people standing in the aisles for the entire duration of the flight so as to be able to chat with their friends or family or whatever. For all I know, these people didn't even know each other and they were just very happy to meet. It was like going to the library and getting stuck there with a group of bubbly high school kids decked out in Prada and D&G. No one else seemed to notice.

So, we continued to read our books and doze off for the duration of the 2 hr flight, ignoring the animated chatter taking place all around us. We chuckled as the surly German flight attendants had to repeatedly ask each Italian, one by one, to move so they could maneuver the drink trays down the aisle.

But the best part came right at the end of the flight. We had descended through the clouds, the sun having already set, and were approaching the runway just like normal. The cabin was a bit quieter since everyone had been forced back into their seats. As soon as the plane successfully touched down onto the runway, everyone went nuts. Huge applause, whistles, and cheers filled the cabin. Like we just won the damn lottery or something. It really made me think about how excitable these people really are. The flight landed like it was supposed to and they act like it is the best thing that's ever happened to them. I can only imagine what would have happened if the flight attendant had rolled the drinks trolley over their toes or something – I picture extravagant gesticulation and animated arguments. Because I don't think it's fair to imagine that they would be so exuberant over a plane landing and not equally "animated" if someone accidentally gave them a flat tire.

Anyway, the joy continued; a raucous round of applause was given as the first of the luggage started spewing out of the conveyor belt in the baggage carousel. I can't even imagine having that kind of energy. They're a bit like children. They are loud, impulsive, and generally happy. I am relatively quiet, introverted, and most certainly sarcastic. Two different approaches to life, eh? Well, let's see if I can't learn something while I'm here..."when in Rome" and all that.

Lucerne + Oktoberfest = Final Stretch

Hello. Welcome back to our continuing adventures around Europe. Thank you for joining me. I realize that it probably gets a bit tedious to read about every walking tour we've taken in every major European city for the past three months and I would like to thank you for your dedication and interest thus far. And, since I shouldn't make assumptions, I would like to thank you for being here now and reading about this intermission in our trip.

That's a bit like what this week was: an intermission. Or maybe a 2^nd intermission since it isn't exactly the halfway point anymore. Six days spent between the big attractions of Paris and Rome, where we didn't do very much except a bit of walking and a lot of watching Season 3 of House, M.D.

Last Sunday (the 20th) we arrived in Lucerne, Switzerland and stayed for three nights in a really nice dorm-turned-hostel. We didn't do too much during our two days in Lucerne, mostly because I'm not sure if there really is much to do. We walked around the town, enjoyed the cute shops, strolled the river banks, and ate some local “traditional” bakery fare (see pic of Kane posing happily with these foods; it wasn't as bad as he is making it look).

It was nice; it was relaxing. We didn't get to see much of Switzerland, but it appears to be a fine place. There are no homeless people. Drivers are habitually and extraordinarily accommodating to each other and pedestrians. All signs and labels are in three languages: German, French, and Italian. And since most people seem to speak at least some of each of these languages, it is not uncommon to find most people knowing a good amount of English also. They're like Germans but without the attitude and with large amounts of disposable income. I suppose being rich probably would put you in a good mood. Can't fault the Swiss, can you?

After our tiny stint in Lucerne, we dropped our beloved car off in Strasbourg and caught a train over to Munich. We had our little Clio III for 70 days and put exactly 10,667 kilometres (6628 miles) on her. She was a fine car and we treated her well. She will be missed.

After our goodbyes, we said hello to Jon, yet again, as we bunked down in his house in Munich for four nights. We spent one day getting serious about Oktoberfest, staking out a table in one of the tents early in the day with some of Jon's friends. While they planned to stay all night until closing (11pm), Kane and I were quite ready for a nap around 5pm after being there for over four hours.
Kane managed to drink two liters of beer during that time (they are sold in liter glasses, a bit more than a quart, and way, way too much for me) and he was down for the count. The burly security personnel who so kindly encouraged us to remove ourselves from the table we were occupying at 5pm (by picking up the ends of the benches we were sitting on and growling angrily in German) left Kane no other choice but to guzzle the last 1/3 of his 2^nd glass. Which pretty much did the trick.

Twenty minutes after leaving Oktoberfest Kane was unconscious on our air mattress in his undies. He remained this way for three hours, getting up to pee twice. At 8pm Jon came home unexpectedly early, which worked out since I thought I might starve to death shortly thereafter. Kane arose with an early onset (albeit mild) hangover and we had pasta with our House. At least one of us got to receive the full Oktoberfest experience, eh?

The next two days we spent mostly sitting around in pajamas with Jon*, finishing up Season 3 of House, and screwing around on the internet. We did make it back to Oktoberfest just to walk around and take some pics and we also went to see the movie District 9 at the English language movie theater. All three of us enjoyed the movie. And, I even got all our hotels booked for Italy; I am sparing no expense at this point. But don't tell Kane that.
Which brings us to now: the final stretch. It is Sunday the 27^th of September and we're on our way to Rome (upon writing; now we're in Rome). We will spend three weeks touring around Rome, Naples, Florence, Cinque Terre, and Venice before returning to Munich one last time to see Jon and collect all of our stuff (we keep leaving select items there so that we don't have to carry unnecessary things on each leg of the trip) and heading to New York.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the end! It's been a long journey and we're pretty ready for it, but we're also looking forward to Italy. Kane has set ambitious pizza goals that he will need to work hard to achieve. We are taking an Italian language class for five days in Rome. Our accommodation budget has gone heinously over allowance. This will be a good end to our epic Europe travels.

*Yes, Jon does have blue hair. Isn't he so hip and alternative?

Best Decision of the Trip

It started to get bad in London.

We knew this trip would be expensive and we tried to organize a budget that was tight but realistic. We thought we cut ourselves enough slack, but the UK was throwing everything off. One meal out would spend all the money allotted for an entire day's food. Forget buying a beverage; cokes and spirits are outrageous and not worth it. Every activity costs about twice what we had anticipated (example: a half hour ride on the London Eye costs £17! That's about $27 USD or $36 AUD per person – ridiculous!). I was spending hours upon hours, day after day searching for our upcoming hotels to find places that were under budget but weren't completely horrible. We were getting very bogged down.

And then we went to Ireland. Ireland, though thankfully on the Euro instead of the stupid Great British Pound (doesn't seem so Great to me), is even more expensive. Our first night we had “gourmet” hamburgers for about $20 AUD each ($15 USD). A non-refillable coke in a restaurant, say 12 oz, will run you about 4-5 Euro ($7 or so USD or $8-10 AUD). We were freaking out. The trip all but came to a stand still.

We were eating at grocery stores and still breaking the budget. The hotels were all over budget no matter how hard I tried, and I was getting worn out looking so hard. Fortunately there isn't much to do in Ireland, so our budget for “activities” was doing ok. But still, we were stressed.

And so, in Cork, we decided to forget it. We had been discussing it pretty much constantly for the past week or so. What do we do? Do we just spend more money? Should we just forfeit eating the food we want to and staying in nicer places to save? On the one hand, we already have the money, it's not like we're racking up the credit card bills; we had, in fact, saved it specially for this. On the other hand, we didn't need to be traveling so luxuriously; we could cut back on the restaurants, hotels, desserts and just see what there is to see.

I remember specifically having a conversation with Rhonda about it (Kane's mom) over Skype and discussing how we should be spending more and worrying less. What I was saying was true, but I was essentially arguing against myself. Then, in the restroom at the Jameson Distillery outside Cork, I made a decision.

The decision was not to go crazy and spend it all, but to spend more and stop worrying; to listen to my own arguments. Our collective anxiety over this was really destroying the fun of our trip. Eating at restaurants, staying at cute hotels, and nibbling fancy desserts are my favorite things to do. We're not hardcore travelers; it's not worth it for us just to be in a place. I want to enjoy the tastes and sights of a new city without eye blinders and handcuffs stamped “BUDGET” on them. The concern for money was significantly inhibiting our enjoyment and I was done with it.

I would still try to find budget accommodation and we wouldn't eat at five-star restaurants or anything. But we would not freak out when dinner cost $60 AUD, which is what a normal meal with no frills costs at a decent restaurant in Ireland.

It was amazing how quickly the change happened. Kane embraced it right away too, he's good about stuff like that. We'd both been mulling over what to do and when I concluded, not illogically, that we either need to sacrifice more money or more enjoyment (and only one is replenishable), he was right there with me. We were enjoying ourselves more already.

This might be one of the reasons I enjoyed Paris so much; we were encumbered by nothing in a wonderful city. And that's why we're here, not to save for a plasma tv for when we get back to the US. We can save for the rest of our lives (and we probably will), but for the next month, we will SPEND and we won't worry!

Incompatible

You know we spend every moment together. Kane and I have pretty much spent 24 hours per day, 7 days a week for the last 5 ½ years at a distance of no more than 20 feet from each other. We live together, we work together, we have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. We go to the gym, volunteer with the cats, and wash our cars together. Obviously, we're pretty damn compatible. Either that or we're using up all the time we're supposed to spend together for the rest of our lives before we even turn 30, and will be breaking up in the next couple of years. But since that explanation doesn't really make any sense, I'll stick with the compatible thing.

The other day, however, we discovered something. We were on a four hour train ride from France to Germany with nothing to do and motion sickness a constant threat. Neither of us wanted to read and it's a bit crap when one of us bogarts the computer. The only two-person card game we know besides Go Fish (Speed) has gotten tiresome.

Were there any little games on the computer that we could play together? Indeed there was: pinball. I took the left Shift button and he took the right; we each had a flipper. We took turns launching the ball into play. And here is where the differences between us shine like a hundred-watt eco-friendly light bulb.

Kane is patient, calculating. He likes to hold the flipper up when the ball comes down the side chute so that he can stop the ball and put it back into play at his leisure. He will let the ball bounce off his flipper, thinking it is going to bounce over onto mine where I would have a better shot, and let it accidentally fall down the middle. He pushes the flipper one single time just as the ball lands where he wants it, always aiming each shot toward whatever area of the board is lit up for bonus points.

I mash the shift key like it's got a cockroach under it. If the ball is somewhere in the vicinity of my flipper, including heading for or currently touching Kane's flipper, my flipper is flapping wildly. I smack the ball away the second it touches my flipper, regardless of which direction the ball might fly.

I'm a spaz. Kane is a damn guru.

When Kane does the thing where the ball bounces off his flipper and down the gutter (he stopped doing this after a while when he got the hang of how the physics of the game worked – thank goodness) rage rises in me as though he's just slapped my mother across the face*. How could a person possibly be so patient?! We played probably 20 games before tiring. Our scores increased steadily during our practice and we actually seemed to be working well together despite our radically different techniques.

I like to hit the ball as hard as I can** all the way up to the top of the board where it pings around for a while, giving us extra time on a play. Kane likes to follow the lit up arrows on the board to activate extra points. We ended up with a high score on one round of about 1,600,000. This is a good score, trust me. Kane played alone for long after I was sick of the game and in about an hour of solo play, he never broke a score of a million.

And so, I conclude, the sum of our talents is better than one of us alone even when we seem completely incompatible. Isn't that cute?

*He would never do that.

**I could not get away from the idea of this being an actual pinball machine that responds to how hard you engage the flipper, when, in fact, I'm fairly certain that the Shift key only flips the flipper at a set speed when you hit it.

Paris

Ahh, Paris. We did well in Paris. We spent 5 nights there but, unlike London, we actually got out and enjoyed the city to the fullest. It felt like we walked a million miles – our feet complained as such. But that didn't keep us down, oh no.

Before I get into the thick of Paris, I'd like to make mention of our trip over to France. We took a 19 hour ferry from Roslare, Ireland to Cherbourg, France. This was our 3^rd ferry of the trip (with automobile in tow, of course) but it was by far the longest. It also by far had the least access to the internet. By which I mean that there was no internet. Nineteen hours overnight on a rocky boat with no internet - not exactly a paradise. The kicker was that the website quoted about €120 (US$175 or so) extra for a room for the night on-board, or, you could not pay anything extra and receive a luxury chair in which to sleep (read: struggle) the night. You can probably guess which option we went with.


We had pumped ourselves up for it – it's just like being on a plane, right? But once onboard, one look at the sad, salmon-colored attic on the ship where our seats were hidden away and we ran crying to the on-board concierge. Apparently, for those of us who are horrified by our overnight seats and are suddenly willing to pay any price for a room with a bed, they have mercy. It was only €53 to upgrade from our chairs to a room. Four fold-up bunk beds (no room mates though), a tiny bathroom, no windows, and everything made of the same smelly plastic as on an airplane – totally worth it. And so we slept normally and both managed to restrain from vomiting even during the rough patches of water. Crisis averted. Welcome to France.

So, back to Paris. We drove straight there from Cherbourg on the 15th; about a five hour drive. We spent 4 glorious days treading up and down every adorable alleyway. Here's the rundown of our visit:

Day 1: 1pm: Free walking tour. Our tour guide was a totally adorable Aussie girl who reminded me very much of Jolene. She introduced us to all the best sights around town, witty commentary included. 6pm: Meander around the Louvre for a couple hours when admission is cheaper on Wednesdays – score one for the discount! 8-9:30pm: Wander around the city in search of a famed falafel stand that apparently does not exist. 10pm: Settle on pizza and salad dinner near our hotel which was delicious.

Day 2: Leave hostel almost too late to make the 2pm Monmartre tour with the same tour guide from the day before (we really liked her). This is a famous artsy district of Paris where people like Van Gogh used to hang out. Now it's mostly cutesy boutiques, people hounding you to draw your portrait, and restaurants aimed at tourists. Still cute though. 4pm: re-walk most of the Monmartre district looking for a cute place for dinner; settle for pizza and salmon with french onion soup and a crepe from a stand afterward.

Day 3: First sunny day! See the sights in depth that we only passed by on the first day's walking tour! Climb the 284 steps to the top of the Arc de Triomphe, photograph the Eiffel Tower from the gardens out front, soak up the Gothic architecture of the inside of Notre Dame, and have a stroll through the famed and funky Pompidu Centre. Find cute, casual cafe in the middle of the Latin Quarter in which to feast on a gigantic tuna sandwich and delicious slice of quiche. Follow it up with a strawberry tarte and, of course, a crepe at the end of the day.


Day 4: Drive out to Versailles but decide that we're not excited enough to actually pay to go in the Palace of Versailles. Yeah, that's how we roll. Have a little lunch in Versailles, enjoying the warm sunny day. Drive back to the hostel for a nap and some reading. Take to the streets again just before sunset and stop by my favorite tart shop (chocolate tart tonight) and then on to enjoy the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe lit up for night time. Return to hostel at 1am!!


Those were our four fantastically fun* days in Paris. Tally this onto my top 5 list; Paris knows how to show a girl a good time.

On a more cultural note, I would like to state for the record that Parisians are a bunch of fine, friendly folks. We had no problems with people being snooty or refusing to speak English, and everyone we encountered was very friendly and nice to us. I know the French have a bit of a reputation for being jerks to foreigners, but as far as we experienced, they have long since turned over these obligations to the Germans.

Additionally, not to hate on Germany constantly, but I would also like to mention that French is significantly easier to read and understand than German. When looking at a restaurant menu, French (like Spanish or Italian) actually looks very similar to English. There are so many common cognates that menus and signs are often about half-understandable even when I don't know any of the language.

This is a huge contrast to German where the only cognate we have readily found is “tomaten” for tomato and "milch" for milk. Other than that, very few words look the same and most words have their modifiers crammed together with the nouns to form huge, unwieldy words that further intimidate the non-native speaker. As an example (in English), they might say something like Cheeseburgerbaconavacado instead of separating the words out to be less confusing. Probably a bad example, but you can see where I'm going and why that would be even worse for me and the three words of German I know.

Anyway, to summarize: Paris is fun; French is a fine language; French people are quite personable; I love pastries (from previous entry but I'm not getting over it any time soon). Please have a gander at the rest of our pics from Paris.

Next stop (well, the stop has already been made, but I need to post about it) Switzerland, then Munich for a few days to drop off some of our crap with Jon and Oktoberfest it up. Then, the final stretch: three weeks in Italy!

*I love alliteration and I hope you do too.

Patisserie

This is my new favorite word. And my new favorite place. Patisserie. It even sounds beautiful, if I can say it correctly. We were in Paris for four days and I'm pretty sure the only site my eyes really took in were these lovely shops. Eiffel Tower? Arc de Triomphe? Louvre? These do not hold my interest*. But tartes, pies, croissants, cakes, coulis - these are why I like French people so much. They know how to deliver, oh yes they do.

Patisseries are everywhere in Paris. They adorn every block. They are truly appealing places all by themselves with their artistically displayed and well-lit offerings, cute seating areas, and cozy entrances. My main questions is: why are they not everywhere? Paris is certainly unique, but there is nothing holding these establishments from, say, the upscale streets of Berkeley or Fitzroy. I will submit this request to the powers that be; this needs to change.

Fun fact from Wikipedia: "In France, [patisserie] is a legally controlled title that may only be used by bakeries that employ a licensed maître pâtissier (master pastry chef)". They really are serious about this stuff. Fortunately, so am I.

And let's not forget the Creperie. Sometimes situated as an odd outcropping tacked onto a streetside restaurant, other times parked as a stand-alone kiosk in high-traffic (i.e. tourist) areas, the creperies in Paris are ubiquitous. As they should be. I can see why Parisians are such happy people, how could they not be with a sweet supply like this?

*We actually did go to these Parisian favorites and had a great time too. Just needed to drive my point home about the desserts, you know?

Ireland

So, apparently we call the entire island Ireland*, including the Republic of Ireland (the bigger one to the south that uses the Euro) along with North Ireland (the smaller area in the north that is part of the UK). The confusion never ends. But our trip there did!


We arrived in Belfast via ferry from Scotland (2 hrs, internet access on board, excellent) on September 1. We had a rainy, cold two days and three nights in North Ireland during which we took a bus tour around the city (screw a walking tour in this weather), and made a trip out to Giant's Causeway which is the only UNESCO heritage sight and the most popular tourist attraction in North Ireland (and is, incidentally, worth a visit).

On the 4th, we headed down into the Republic of Ireland, which we duly named Regular Ireland. As in, "Where is this place? In North Ireland or Regular Ireland?". And whatever the question was, the answer is probably Regular Ireland since there is far more down here to look at and eat. We spent three days in Dublin, which was not nearly enough but was still certainly fun.

During our travels we have encountered many cities (obviously) and a select few of them just jive with us right away. Dublin is one of these cities. Compact, easy to navigate, friendly, full of restaurants; this is a good place to be.

It is, however, an expensive place to be. We realized this almost immediately and were dismayed to find that this trip just keeps getting more expensive. I thought London would be the height of overpriced lunches and hot chocolates, but I was mistaken. Ireland takes the cake, or perhaps, the beer, as it were.

But moving on from our continual and mildly obnoxious fear of spending our own money, we had an excellent time in Dublin. We met up with my cousin Monique's husband's sister, Maria (a diagram would help, wouldn't it?), who graciously showed us around the city and gave us handfuls of advice on where to go's and what to do's. She's an exceptionally intelligent, interesting, and sweet person and we clicked immediately (at least Kane and I thought so...). And she helped with quite a few recommendations for foods, bars (yep, we went in bars!) and activities around the city. We could certainly spend some more time there; a way cool city indeed.

Then it was over to the west coast to stay in a town called Galway where we did a bit of relaxing and made sure to hit up the magnificent Cliffs of Moher as a day trip. The weather had turned sunny and (relatively) warm and we were happy as seahorses (clams are over rated - and rubbery).
Our last stop in Ireland was the best - Cork, in the south. We had a really great experience in Cork for these reasons: 1) The weather was sunny and warm; 2) Our hotel was plush and had a great view and I got it on sale; 3) The entire region is very beautiful. Granted, 2 of 3 of those reasons were circumstantial, but we won't complain. We spent our days kissing the Blarney Stone at Blarney Castle, taking in the famous views along the Kerry Ring Road, and becoming master whiskey tasters at the Old Jameson Distillery. We meandered through the odd little town of Cork, bought some new books, read, used the internet to our heart's content from the comfort of our hotel room (this is key), and even ordered room service. A truly luxurious end to our stay in this gorgeous country.


Please view the rest of our Ireland pictures here, which shows a bit more thorough run down of our trip through Ireland. For now, we've braved the 19 hour ferry directly from Ireland to France and are enjoying the lights and sound of beautiful Paris (say: Pair-eee)!

*Map courtesy of http://www.teachersparadise.com

Back in Time: Edinburgh Fringe

Let's step back in time for a few paragraphs...to about a month ago when we were in Edinburgh, Scotland. You may recall me discussing our excellent experiences in England and Scotland along with the differences between the terms "United Kingdom", "Great Britain", and "England". Ring any bells? If no, the wonders of bloggular technology will allow you to be whisked back in time and read all about it. Either way, it is a fact that I mentioned the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, albeit briefly, in my exposition about this part of our trip and I had meant to expand a bit.

The Edinburgh Fringe Festival is noted as the world's largest arts festival. It is a city-wide jubilee, if you will, of theater, dance, comedy, music, and anything else you can conceivably do on stage (don't use your imagination too much). To give you a feel for the monstrous size of the event, Wikipedia informs us that "Fringe 2009 sold 1,859,235 tickets for 34,265 performances of 2,098 shows in 265 venues, over 25 days, for an average of over 74,000 admissions and 1,300 performances per day. There were an estimated 18,901 performers, from 60 countries."

So, 1,300 performances per day. Not too shabby for a city of just under half a million. As you might imagine, this thing takes over like Oprah in a bakery. The city is bursting with people passing out fliers, signs pointing to hundreds of venues, and thousands upon thousands of visitors who travel from all around to be entertained by the plentiful performers. And, as luck had it, our visit happened to coincide with all this madness.

I originally thought this might be a bad thing since this festival drives up prices of everything from hotels to happy meals, but I now realize that this may be the best time of year to visit Edinburgh. The city is alive day and night. People are everywhere and are frolicking in a festive kind of way rather than bustling in a business-as-usual fashion. The vibe is electric. Street performers coax you from around every corner. The smell of food fills your nose, the call of street-side vendors fills your ears, and tiny, colorful 4x6 fliers for every kind of show imaginable magically appear in your hands. Artists, actors, mimes, acrobats, comedians - they all converge into one tiny city for three short weeks as the rest of us scurry to gorge ourselves on the open buffet of revelry. It's quite an experience.

Though the "big" shows are sold out far in advance, Kane and I had our eye on a couple shows that we wanted to see. We bought tickets just before they sold out for Stephen K. Amos and then, in typical Kangie style, scoured the internet for someone with extra tickets to Jimmy Carr who was willing to part with them at a reasonable price. And so, we saw these two fine British comedians one night after another, with good seats to boot.

Stephen K. Amos also played at the Melbourne Comedy Festival earlier this year (which we attended heavily) but we were not able to acquire tickets to see him there. He also frequents one of our favorite Aussie shows Good News Week, so we had high hopes for him. Jimmy Carr is relatively famous (mostly in Britain but also some in the US) and was performing in a larger theater that was sold out far in advance. They were both pretty funny, but I have to say that Stephen was the better of the two in my opinion. He had a very personal show and I think, since this was one of his last shows of the festival, he was winging it a lot that night. He even said so. There were some really classic lines and I even got to be made fun of for being an American (I had to cheer when he asked if any Americans were there...).

Jimmy Carr's show was definitely good; it was a very planned, regimented show where you could tell he had everything (except the one hysterical heckler-laugher in the audience) very well rehearsed. Though he did deal with crazy laughing lady quite well, so he can obviously hold his own with the improv. He does happen to be more prone to dirty, uncouth jokes which, though they can be funny, tend to not appeal to me as well. He was still very good and Kane and I were really happy to have acquired tickets.

But, as for my very favorite part of Stephen K Amos's show? I wish I could find a video of it on the interwebs but YouTube is failing me...his intro was two girls doing Beyonce's 'All the Single Ladies' dance (if you don't know it, it's been excessively parodied by the likes of SNL and everyone else on the internet) during which he joins the dance as his segue onto the stage. It was unexpected and hilarious. He was brilliant. Here's a random clip of him since I couldn't find one from the actual show we saw:



And, unfortunately, that was it for our Edinburgh Fringe experience of 2009. I highly recommend visiting this fine city at any time, but the Fringe was definitely a special treat. Yeay for the arts!

On an Unrelated Topic...

My friend Alicia kindly offered to let me post on her blog, and my guest post has been published! I thought I'd brag all about it on my own blog so that everyone can read something that I wrote that is not pertaining to travel or Australia or my bodily functions. Granted, it is still completely and totally about me, myself, and I - so do not fret, it doesn't deviate from your standard reading too terribly much. Someday I will learn to write about thing that actually matter.

Anyway, please check out her blog (it's a good one - she is a damn good writer, what with Masters degrees and all) and check out my article about how I hate to run! Yeay!

Glendalough

Glendalough is a tiny town about an hour and a half south of Dublin. It was a real find for us as we drove across the country to get to our next destination, Galway. It is an old monastic site with an old stone church, a stone tower, and lots of old graves. It was really photogenic and just had a really cool feel to it; hence it gets it's own (albeit brief) blog post. The collage above includes some of the best pics of the small area. Ireland is so pretty!

Healthy Irish Diet

I drank an entire pint of Guinness beer. By myself. Under no duress except that it was free, which is, actually, significant duress for me. It was absolutely repulsive and I am totally amazed that I was able to do it. I hate beer. And, unlike most college students, I refused to rid myself of this innate distaste in my early 20's just so that I could be cooler at parties. I'm not cool and I'm ok with it. No need to torture myself to try to disprove it.

But, in my old age I'm getting quite adventurous. Keep in mind that this is more beer than I have ever drank in my entire life combined. You probably know that I rarely drink anything - it's just not worth the time, effort, or money to me - but never, ever have I drank a beer. But I did it and I hope Ireland can be proud of me because that was almost certainly the last time that it will ever happen. Ever.


On a more enjoyable but even less healthy note, Kane and I finally tried the infamous, the coveted...deep fried Mars bar*. This is where you take a candy bar, batter it in the same stuff that your fish (as in fish 'n chips) is lathered in, and deep fry the whole thing. It sounds a bit gross - and it is, a bit - but mostly it's just a melty ball of chocolatey goo covered in a thin layer of donut. Definitely good, but don't think I'll make a habit of it.

Needless to say, we're having a grand old time in Ireland and they're treating us well (or, at least, just like they treat everyone else). More later!

*A Mars bar is what we in America call a Milky Way.

Sharing with Strangers

There comes a time in every budget traveler's trip where the coveted double room is not available. Where the cost of a real hotel is far too high, and/or the desired town is fully booked. At some point, to save money, a room must be shared with strangers.

Depending on how much money you're trying to save, you may have been sharing rooms all along. Kane and I are far too old for this. We are not 18 anymore. We want our privacy even if it's in a bite-sized room with bunk beds. It's still better than sharing with strangers.

But, here in Dublin, we have arrived in our first quad-share situation. We have a lot of stipulations for the rooms we book (parking, free wifi, under $100AUD/night, etc) and sometimes we have to compromise. Lord knows I would prefer to compromise on price and just pay up the yin yang, but my frugal friend Kane leans toward a less luxurious solution. And so we sometimes stay at less-than-desirable locations.

We won't do a 20-share room with who knows how many drunk children trickling in at all hours in the night. We will, however, go for a 4 or 6 person mixed share room. We've done it before and it isn't so bad. Yesterday we met one of our room mates: a nice Aussie boy (from Sydney) who is traveling around Europe, not unlike us except that he is solo and has many tattoos. Fine with me, seemed like a perfectly nice guy. We have yet to meet our other room mate, all I know of him is that he crept in not long after we went to sleep and put himself quietly to bed. Yeay for nice room mates.

But having nice room mates does not necessarily mean that all room-sharing problems are solved, though we can certainly not be thankful enough for this good fortune. There are still some...bodily function related issues that make room sharing difficult.

Let's face it, Kane and I have been dating for 6 years; we can keep our hands off each other for three nights. But as for unpleasantries such as...how do I say...well, passing gas - each person must do what he or she feels fit when controlling his/her bodily demands in such a situation.

Let's not be shy about it: I've had bad gas for the past 3 days. I'm not sure why but it's not been pleasant. I'm not usually so gassy, but I was dreading the 4-person share room based on this recent affliction, hoping it would pass (no pun intended) in time. And the worst of it did. But last night I still sat in my bunk bed faced with a dilemma.

To fart or not to fart, that is the question. How long can a person hold in gas of ever-increasing pressure? If I were out to dinner or in a public place, sure, I'd make the effort. But all night in my own room? Even if there are other people, need I kill myself for them? I know Kane's answer already: you do what you gotta do. For me it's not so black and white. Not only are his flatulents typically without odor, they are often silent. And even if he does choose to expel a classic whoopee cushion sounding toot, he works the "it had to happen, just ignore it" angle. Which generally works when you're a boy and there are no lasting effects of your indiscretion.

I, however, am a woman. A dainty soul. Ok, maybe not so dainty, but surely no stranger expects to be accosted by a smell so foul from a girl so well-mannered. And how unfortunate would it be to come home to your room after a night out and be forced to dwell in a smell that peels the paint? Here are my options as I see it: 1) Hold everything in, no matter the cost; 2) Let it out of your body but hold it in, sealed for all of time, inside your comforter*; or 3) Let it all the way out.

I'll be frank - I chose against pain for myself and shared with the others. When we went to bed our other two room mates were still out. Therefore my hopes were that one of these three would happen to the expunged gasses: a) They would sufficiently dissipate such that they could not be detected by others by the time they arrived; b) These kind strangers would not have the very keen nose** that I have and would simply not notice the odors that I have bequeathed onto them; or c) They would assume it was Kane. Now, I'm not proud of that last one, but who would you think dealt it - the tidy, small, blond girl peacefully sleeping on the lower bunk or the skin-headed, full-bearded brute of a man folded into the top bunk? Sorry honey, you're guiltier looking than I am for just about anything. But I still love you.

After all the inner turmoil (again, no pun intended though these are getting good) on this personal conflict, I finally fell asleep. Our room mates did come home throughout the night and I will never know if they detected any uncouth smells, or if so, if they would have attributed them to any earthly cause. Whatever the case, I did awaken to a...fully disclosed view of the front side of one of our room mates across the room, so I figure that we're probably even. Ah, the joys of sharing a room.

*This action has a contemporary nomenclature: it is known as the Dutch Oven. Doing it to yourself is probably not the most common of ways to administer this form of punishment, but the fact remains. This is a blog for learning too, remember.

**I have what is known in our family as "The Sommer Nose", which, aside from being bigger than the average nose is also very keen to detect scents. I have noted on many, many occasions being able to smell something that others around me can't. I think Kane's sense of smell (and vision, for that matter) is particularly dull, so I seem even more gifted around him. Haha, I'm better than he is at something! I say that lovingly as I typically live a bit in his shadow (literally and figuratively) as he is: taller, faster, stronger (the obvious), better at math, better at test taking, faster at getting ready in the morning, more patient, more frugal, less irritable, more flexible (not actually physically, I win in that department), more frequently rational, better at reaching high shelving and changing light bulbs, better at making things, fixing things, and troubleshooting, better with computers, cats, and fitting into small spaces, sleeps more soundly, regulates body temperature better, flips pancakes better, rides motorcycles more confidently, folds shirts more neatly...