Thursday 30 June 2011

And One for Free Water

And One for Free Water

            There are two things I should note.  First, last night, we met a new friend who didn’t get a mention.  While I was putting up the blog entries last night, there was this blonde kid wearing glasses next to me.  Once everything was posted, he suddenly started talking.  His name was Sam, and he was a self-described “gay Jewish boy” from England.  He was traveling with his family through Italy.  He told us that he had just mailed his partner a rosary as a joke (he’s dating a “gay Irish Catholic,” so he thought it was funny.).  Sam explained that he either had to hang out with his parents or his sister and her friends, a couple of 17-18 year old girls who “won’t be interesting for another year or two.”  We hope you found something to do, Sam!

            Second, I stand corrected.  Camille is not quiet, she just doesn’t talk in English much (or maybe just appears quiet next to Clotilde, hah)!  Sorry, Camille! 

            Will and I decided to go to the Vatican Museums.  When we arrived, there was a two hour line (95% of it in the sun, and it was 32o C (about 90o F).  Some dude said that because we were students, we could skip the line for 12 Euros through his tour group.  We could just skip the line and then ditch the tour.  Since the Vatican has 7km of museum and we only had today, we decided to take him up on the offer. 

            I’m just gonna throw on the table that this was the first thing I took a picture of. 

            If you think the British were good thieves, they could take lessons from the Vatican.  They had an impressive Egyptian collection, among other things.  However, their best stuff was their Greek and Roman collections.  This is ONE hallway out of ONE of their THREE collections.  Just one hallway.

            They also had a cup big enough for Joe and shiny stuff.


            Finally, there was a DOVE firing a LASER at Mary.  That was pretty neat.  I didn’t know the Holy See was into Sci-Fi.

            Anyways, that took up pretty much our entire day.  We then went to Roma Termini and booked ourselves an overnight train to Budapest for tomorrow night (day in Venice, then sleep our way to Hungary).  We also booked a hostel for Budapest.

             Then, we went to have our last meal at Casetta di Trastevere.  I am going to give you directions to it now, because I remember it now.  Don’t ask me for directions, just look here.  This is accurate.  My memory won’t be.  The restaurant is open from 12:00 – 24:00.

From Roma Termini, take the H bus.  Get off at the first stop after the bridge.  Facing the tourist information booth, go forward.  Keep going past the big fountain.  After the big fountain, you’ll get to a brick enclosure / half-dome shrine thingy on your left.  There may or may or may not be restaurant seats laid out there.  On your right is a museum.  There should also be a military jeep guarding it.  Go right, towards the museum.  Walk past the jeep.  Take the first right you see (hard right, there are two rights very closely spaced).  You should be on Via di Pelliccia or something like that.  We call it Pelican Street.

Take Pelican Street until you are there.  You should walk right into Casetta di Trastevere.  It is next to Da’ Augusto, which is good, but not AS good and certainly not as cheap.  There.  The secret is out.  Go feast for cheap.

While we were eating, a young, blind dude wearing a bright purple shirt sat down next to Will, on a diagonal from me.  He kept repeating things…just over and over.  Examples were: “I no see, but for me, is no problem.  I love the vita.”  Also, “For me, I love American music!”  There were a few other things, but he INSISTED on high-fiving me every time I responded to one of these things.  Every question and every high-five was directed at me.  The guy barely noticed Will, except he asked why my “girlfriend” never talked.  I explained that Will was a guy, but he didn’t seem to grasp that.

Crazy blind dude also kept asking me if the girls around him were “good girls” and/or “single girls.”  He also kept asking if we’d take him to the bus stop.  I felt bad, so I agreed.  We got most of the way there, and he asked if he could take one minute to use the bathroom.  He went in, and the owner of the bar came out asking if it was a practical joke.  I guess he went into the wrong bathroom or something.

We waited ten minutes.  We had told the guy several times that we had a train to catch, and we were in a hurry.  After ten minutes, we told the bartender to apologize to the guy and explain our situation.  We left.  About five minutes after getting to the bus stop, blind dude caught up with us.  A drunk hobo was leading him.

Anyways, we got back to Termini and picked up our bags from luggage storage.  We looked at the board, and the train wasn’t listed…but the trains after it were.  I asked Will if I could see the tickets.  I figured it was something like the Gare du Nord / Paris St. Lazare thing.  It was.  We were supposed to leave from Roma Tiburtina.

We booked it over to Tiburtina, making it just in time…except then, I heard an announcement.  I heard it as “(our train) will be 90 minutes late.”  I assumed that my Italian was rusty, and I asked someone what the voice said.  I was entirely correct.  We waited for 90 minutes, and then our train arrived.

Once we got on the train, we got to our bunks.  Will’s bed had stuff in it.  Will went to the bathroom, and this Italian businessman guy came in and started yelling at me.  He was speaking in a dialetto, so I didn’t understand a word he was saying.  I kept telling him to wait for “mi amico,” and explaining that Will had a ticket for that bed.  He either didn’t speak normal Italian or didn’t care, because he kept yelling at me until he grumpily moved his stuff.

Will got back once the crisis was over, and we went to sleep. 

Will’s Corner
            I am ninja. Even blind people with super bat hearing can’t find me.
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Dear Joe,
            Even a crazy, blind Italian man can see that you are rage-ready.  Tonight.  Every night.  Forever.
Love,
Will and Andy

Monday 27 June 2011

And One for Bears

And One for Bears

            We slept in a bit today (on purpose!).  We made our way into Rome and headed towards Basilica Cappucini, a Capuchin monk cemetery that’s filled with crazy BONE ART.  It was taking a siesta when we arrived, so we went and got lunch.

            For lunch, Will and I went to a kind of expensive place, but it was super delicious.  The food was super fresh and home-made.  By the time we were done, the siesta was over.  The place was fucking insane.  I mean, look at this.  

Yes, that is a grim reaper with a scythe and scales on the ceiling.  Yes, everything is made of human bones.  Yes, it was awesome.

            We grabbed tickets to Venice.  We have an overnight train tomorrow.  We ran some errands and grabbed dinner in (SURPRISE) Trastevere.  It’s so cheap and delicious, it cannot be beaten.  You should cry everytime we go there.  I got into an argument with a wasp while we were there.  It kept landing on my food, and after I realized it was just being annoying, I kept telling it to go away.  I think people thought I was insane, because I was like, “Go away.  You have no friends here, and no one likes you.  Go back to your hive.  Maybe you have friends there.”

            Finally, we returned to Camping Fabulous and here we are!  Yeah, we didn’t do jack shit today other than look at Capuchin zombie art.  Shut up.  We will do stuff tomorrow.

Will’s Corner
            Christianity is nuts. And awesome.
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Dear Joe,
            You would make the best zombie art in the world.  You have the prettiest bones of anyone!  You’re the belle of the zombie ball.
Love,
Will and Andy

And One for Casetta di Trastevere

And One for Casetta di Trastevere

            We had said our goodbyes to Clotilde and Camille the previous night because we had a very early morning.  Will and I got up and grabbed a cab to the Catania train station.  We had a ticket from Palermo to Rome, and we weren’t in Palermo anymore!  This had to be resolved.  The lady said she was unable to change our ticket, but she would sell us a ticket from Catania to Messina.  It was the same train that we would be on otherwise, just further along in its route.  Basically, we’d board the train in Catania, then we’d have to switch seats when it hit Messina.  That’s right, not trains, but seats.  Just move to a different car.  Whatever, why not?

            FYI, this was a fucking TWELVE HOUR TRAIN.  During our first leg, our little six-seat room was comfortably air-conditioned but full.  We were just with some family.  It was quiet and uneventful.

            When we hit Messina, we switched rooms.  Like the other room, it was full.  Unlike the other room, it was not air-conditioned.  It was hot as balls.  We were with a mom and her two-year-old (?? We’re really bad with baby ages.) baby.  Thankfully, the child was asleep.  As we did earlier, we boarded a train-boat. 

            Will and I went up to grab a snack, like the last time.  The snack thing was closed, and there was a huge line for the vending machine.  Will and I stood on the deck for a while.  I’m suffering from allergies, and I’ve been having this awful post-nasal drip.  Suddenly, a huge amount just dropped into my mouth.  Luckily, I was on the deck of a boat.  I decided to spit the wad of phelgm into the ocean.  The wind was like, “FUCK THAT!” and lifted it back up into the air.  I watched the wad fly back up, over the rail, across the deck, and just land five feet from some people on a bench.  FML. 

            To save myself further embarrassment, I went inside to check the vending machine.  They had some product called Cipster (pronounced “Chipster,” it’s Italy).  Will and I were nervous.  I can’t remember if I told you, dear reader, but Pringles in Europe are fucking terrible.  They have the taste and consistency of cardboard, and they’re not even salted.  However, we weren’t even halfway through the twelve hour train of doom, and we were starving. I tried to buy Cipster.  The machine hated me.  It wouldn’t take my money.

            After about ten tries of trying to get it to take my coins, I let the guy behind me go.  It worked for him just fine.  I tried it again, being slow and gentle with adding coins (you have to shoot the coins up, like a pinball machine coin slot).  Because I treated it like a proper lady, it accepted.  Cipster wasn’t too bad.  We also had some hot cocoa from another vending machine.  It was actually pretty good.

            When we got back to the train, the baby was awake.  It wanted to play with its weird plastic castle toy thing.  It was a pretty quiet baby, which was nice.  The car was still hot as hell.  At one point, three of the people in our car left.  They were replaced by another three, one of whom had a little Miniature Pincer.  It was friendly and liked me a lot.  Yay.

            Will and I got into Rome at about 22:00.  All we had to eat was a croissant at 09:00.  We were hungry as hell.  We made a beeline for Trastevere and FEASTED.  We both started with a course of bufala mozzarella and split some fries on the side.  Then, we had a margherita pizza, one for each of us.  After that, Will had fettucine al ragú, and I had ricotta and spinach ravioli in a butter and sage sauce.  For dessert, Will had a crème brulee, and I had panna cotta in some crazy berry sauce.  It was amazing, huge, filling, and it was only 21.50 Euros.  Be jealous.

            Finally, we waddled back to Camping Fabulous and passed out.

Will’s Corner
            Out of books. Damnit.
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Dear Joe,
            You are brighter than the sun.
Love,
Will and Andy 

And One for Fishy, Spawn of Asmodeus

And One for Fishy, Spawn of Asmodeus

            The four of us woke up early and walked to the bus station, where we grabbed a bus to Catania.  When we arrived, Clotilde and Camille got paninis or something for a quick lunch.  Will and I, as Americans and men, craved something more substantial.  Therefore, we went to some small trattoria run by an old Italian man with a partially-burned-but-unlit cigarette that never left his mouth.  Will had spaghetti alla carbonara and I had spaghetti al ragú.  They were tasty. 
           
            We caught up with Clotilde and Camille.  They had found Clotilde’s friend, Matteo.  Matteo was pretty cool.  He showed us where we could leave our backpacks safely, and we all hopped on a train to Taormina.  We had kind of a long climb.  There was an okay view, I guess. 



Matteo showed us where to get really good gelato.  I had cantaloupe and strawberry, and Will had lemon and mint.  It was awesome.  Taormina also had a cool Greco-Roman theater. 

            Throughout these two days with our new French partners in crime, we’ve had a sort of ongoing debate about France and America with Clotilde (she’s the talkative one, remember?).  Clotilde tried to explain to us how awesome France is.  For example, on the topic of cars, she asked us, “You know Alfa Romeo, right?  Everyone knows Alfa Romeo!”  Will and I agreed that we knew it: it’s the NATO Phonetic Alphabet name for a line of assault rifles (AR-10, AR-15).  Apparently, it’s a French car company.  Who knew? 

We think America is the best country in the world, but I think most people think their country is the best in the world.  “Don’t you love France?” we would ask her.  In this vein, I should probably mention that Clotilde has some sort of weird cheese-obsession complex, but I think this might just be normal for her nationality.  She loves cheese, and she claimed that we, as Americans, didn’t know what good cheese was.  Will and I do not claim to have the arcane cheese-knowledge that she has, but we do think she needs to try a good sharp cheddar.  Vermont or Wisconsin or something.

Furthermore, Clotilde thought that Will and I were constantly talking about how awesome America is (sometimes we are, but more often, we aren’t).  Will and I would be talking about something unrelated, like feudal England, and Clotilde would say, “Stop talking about America!”  Or, more often, we’d be talking about stuff we didn’t understand or stuff we don’t have in America, like cars with a cool lion logo.  Still, “Stop talking about America!” It was funny. 

`           Anyways, Taormina had a BEACH.  It was kind of rocky, but most of the rocks were smooth.  Matteo, being Italian, stripped down to a terrifyingly small and tight Speedo.  It was scary. Will, Camille, Matteo, and I went swimming.  Clotilde stayed on the beach.  I think the water was too cold for her or something.  Will, being himself, swam out to a pretty distant rock.  He then swam around this big island thing.  Look, there he is in the distance!

            While we were waiting for Will to return from his adventure, Camille tried to dunk me.  She ended up basically lifting herself in the air on my shoulders and totally failing to dunk me.  I showed her how to do it properly, and was thoroughly (and probably deservedly) splashed for my lesson.   

            Will took a while to come back, so Matteo, Camille, Clotilde, and I split a bottle of wine.  Finally, Will returned looking happy and the five of us had a long-ass walk back to the train.  There, we retrieved our stuff and walked to the hostel.  We checked into the hostel and left our bags. 

            Camille and Clotilde took a shower.  Will and I noticed that there was a 2-for-1 happy hour downstairs, so we left a note for them and went to the bar.  I got two Leffe (Belgian beer, delicious), and Will got two Stella Artois.  We traded so that we would have one of each.  Eventually, they caught up, found Matteo, and had a beer with us.  Matteo’s friend, whose name I cannot recall, joined us for dinner.  For dinner, Clotilde and I had rigatoni alla norma (tomato sauce with parmesan in the sauce).  Camille had a seafood pasta dish, Will had a huge-ass calzone, and Matteo’s friend had some vegetarian pizza, and Matteo had…something pasta-y.  I don’t remember.

              After dinner, we went to a bar and Will briefly went against Matteo shot-for-shot.  They drank a local liqueur called Mt. Etna Fire.  They had a few of those, then absinthe, then tequila, and then Matteo gave up.  He looked like he was going to get sick.  Will was sad because he didn’t even have a buzz.  I only had a beer, but it was tasty.  Finally, we went back to the hostel.  Will and I had an early train, so we said our goodbyes to our French travel buddies.

            Here we are, all of us together.  I’ll miss our crazy French friends (Clotilde, if you mail us some “real cheese,” we’ll mail you some sharp cheddar!).  I’ll especially miss Camille; she was awesome.   
I know you can't seen anything, but, left to right: 
Will, Andy, Camille, Clotilde, Matteo, and Matteo's buddy

            As a sidenote, Will has been struggling with the European cheek-kiss-on-both-sides thing since we met Rosa.  Tonight, while saying goodbye to our French friends, we discovered that he has not improved.  It’s still awkward and confusing for him.

Will’s Corner
             Drinking I get. Weird European greeting things not so much. I’ll stick to drinking Europeans under the table.
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Dear Joe,
            Fly like an eagle.  But, like, an awesome eagle with laser vision, lightning bolts, and stuff.  Yeah!
Love,
Will and Andy

And One for Jared

And One for Jared

            Clotilde and Camille were not familiar with what was in Palermo.  Luckily, Mr. Kindle told us some cool stuff to do.  The four of us agreed that we should check out the Capuchin monk catacombs.  According to Mr. Kindle, they discovered that there was some sort of chemical in the catacombs that mummified bodies.  Tons of Sicilians demanded to be buried there.  We went to go check it out. 

            Clotilde handed me the map.  Using Will’s compass, I set us on the path – Northwest.  Eventually, Clotilde pointed out that the street name was wrong.  I pulled out the map and saw she was right, but it made no sense.  She pointed out that the map was not oriented correctly.  North on the map was actually Southeast.  I thought we had to be in the Northwest corner of the map.  We actually had to be in the Southeast corner.  We were at a diagonal from our destination.  Clotilde revoked my navigation privileges and led the way. 

            On the way to the catacombs, we ran into a farmer’s market type thing.  Clotilde and Camille got a quarter-watermelon.  They used my Swiss Army knife and cut us some slices.  It was super tasty.  Will also saw that a store was selling 66 centiliter beers for 1.20 Euro.  I bought one, and Will bought two (he put one in his daypack for later).  He was happy as a clam. 

            We eventually made it to the catacombs.  When we were getting close, random Italians kept pointing the way without us asking.  It was probably the only attraction up that far North down that far South.  I understood most of them, except for two old men who spoke in a Sicilian dialect that I simply didn’t understand. 

            We made it!  I have no pictures for you, because it was verboten.  Lemme see if I can get one from the interwebs for you.  It was pretty crazy.  There were a LOT of mummified bodies.  Clotilde and Camille were surprised at what the catacombs contained, despite me saying “mummified corpses.”  Perhaps something was lost in translation? 

            The four of us went back to the hostel.  Clotilde explained that they were leaving that night to go to Catania, another town in Sicily.  She had met a guy while traveling, and he lived in Catania.  They were going to hang out with him.  They soon learned that it would be a pain to travel that day, so they stayed with us in the hostel an extra night.  Since there’s an actual beach and a cool volcano in Catania, Will and I decided to cancel our next night in Palermo and travel with them to Catania the next morning. 

After that was decided, Clotilde used my computer to check Facebook, Camille and I took a nap, and Will listened to music.  Then, the four of us went to dinner on the way to the beach.  For dinner, we all had gnocchi alla sorrentina.  Sorrentine style is tomato sauce with mozzarella mixed in.  It’s a very cheese-y sauce, and it was awesome.  Will and I also had a pizza each.  It wasn’t really a beach.  It was more like…rocks and harbor wall.   I mean, don’t get me wrong, there was water.  It just wasn’t a real beach.  We listened to some music and sat by the water, and then we went back to the hostel.  Will wanted to go drinking, but we told him he was behind the times.

Oh, and Will hid on the roof of the hostel for a while. 

Will’s Corner
            The places that are the most interesting are often those where people were never meant to go. These places have a tendency to make it hard for people to find you though. My bad.
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Dear Joe,
            Your awesomeness is as deep as the Sicilian ocean.  Your beach is not made of rocks.  These are qualities that we admire in you.
Love,
Will and Andy

And One for Backwoods Ingenuity

And One for Backwoods Ingenuity

            We had an early train to Palermo.  This makes sense, because it’s fucking LONG.  It’s a nine hour train ride.  At one point, the train slowed down.  Will and I realized that it was pulling into a boat.  Yes, that’s right, a train-boat.  The boat had rails for the train, and once it parked, we disembarked. 

            On the boat was a salon-type thing where they sold food.  They had these little Barilla microwave pasta cups.  I tried to order bolognese for Will and pomodoro for me.  The man explained that they only had arrabiata.  We ate arrabiata.  We got back on the train for the remainder of our nine hour journey.

            Eventually, we made it to Palermo.  We were exhausted and had no map, so we took a cab to the hostel.  It was actually pretty cheap.  When we got into our room, there were two French girls there.  Their names were Clotilde and Camille, and they were complimentary opposites.  Clotilde was short, extremely talkative, and high-energy.  Camille was tall, gorgeous, and quiet.  They had just gotten in from a very delayed flight, and they were starving.  I asked if they wanted to get dinner with us, and they did.

            The four of us went to a pizza place next door and ordered four pizzas to split among us.  At one point, Will left to go do health forms for NOLS or something.  Camille, Clotilde, and I went to a bar next door to have a few drinks while Will finished up the forms.  The plan was to go rage after.  This was where I learned another difference between Camille and Clotilde.  Though high-energy, Clotilde tired easily.  She didn’t seem to want to go out.  Camille, while quiet, was ready to go.  Every time we passed a bar playing dance music, Camille started dancing while we walked.  She was also the only one who pounded beers with me.  She was fun.  I liked her. 

            An hour or two had gone by, and Will hadn’t come down.  I went to go fetch him.  I was not surprised to see him in bed asleep.  We had the following exchange:

Me:  Will, get up.  It’s time to go out.
Will:  No.  Sleeping.
Me:  Will, you said you were going to rage.  Get up.
Will:  No, go away.
Me:  Will, there are two beautiful French girls waiting for you to come down.  Come on.  Let’s go.
Will:  Have them both.  Not my type. 
Me:  *sigh*
Will:  *roll over towards wall*

            I went back downstairs and explained that Will would not be joining us.  Clotilde said she was probably going to bed.  I suggested we find a dance party.  Camille agreed.  The three of us went looking, and we ran into a whole bunch of French dudes from Montpellier.  They said they were heading to a karaoke bar.  The fact that there were more French people seemed to interest Clotilde, and Camille and I wanted to do karaoke. 

            I was the only American in the entire place.  Other than me, it was a LOT of French people and a few Italians.  Luckily, most of the karaoke was American music.  Here, Camille confirmed my assumption that she was awesome because she sang “Summer Loving” from Grease with me.  I always wanted to do that.

            Eventually, it was time for the bar to close.  However, we all wanted to keep going.  The French dudes invited us to their (far away) hotel.  Camille and Clotilde wanted to go, so I figured, “Eh, adventure.  Why not?”  There was one French dude in the group named Florian or something (he went by “Flor”), and he refused to speak to me in English.  He insisted on Spanish, French, or nothing.  He claimed that English was “una idioma de mierda” (a shit-language, or, literally, a language of shit).  Will said I should have asked him if he’d rather be speaking German.  Hohoho.

            The “party” at the French hotel was non-existent.  Camille, Clotilde, and I decided to get the hell out of there.  The Frenchies gave us a bottle of beer for our time, but we had no way to open it.  I realized that a bus shelter is really nothing more than a large bottle opener and opened the bottle.  The beer wasn’t half bad.

            I somehow found our way back to the hostel.  Yay.

Will’s Corner
            Priorities. I have them.
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Dear Joe,
            You can be our summer love any day.
Love,
Will and Andy

And One for Puppies

And One for Puppies

            I had e-mailed my father about how much of a trash-heap Napoli is (trash, sketchy prostitutes, etc.).  Accusatory, I had asked him, “You brought me here as a child?!”  His response, “We never actually stopped there.  Just went by it.  Told you it was a cess pool.  Glad to hear you’re making new friends.”

            Will and I grabbed a cheap train ticket to Pompeii and got on the (rail)road.  Pompeii is HUGE.  And awesome.  However, early on, there’s this unmarked exit.  You walk down some stairs, thinking that there’s more cool stuff down there, and there isn’t.  There’s also a grumpy man who won’t let you back up the stairs, even if you just walked down and you are showing him your ticket.  Luckily, the people at the front let us back in.

Pompeii is super well preserved because Mt. Vesuvius really hated it.  I mean, check out this restaurant.  Those holes were for fire pits where the food would be.


            These columns and this amphitheater were also pretty badass.


            However, my favorite was easily the Temple of Apollo.  CHECK IT OUT. 


            After a long day of wandering in the hot Pompeii sun, Will and I headed back to Napoli.  We also booked a ticket to Palermo, a city in Sicily.  We went back to the hostel and Will passed out.   I tried to wake him, telling him we needed to get food before it got dark and sketchy.  He grumbled something.  I decided to try again at 20:00.  I was sterner, and he finally gave in.  We went to a pizza place that the hostel recommended.  It was super tasty.  Finally, we went back to the hostel, met our awkward Japanese roommate, watched some more Band of Brothers, and went to sleep.  

Will’s Corner
            Too hot. Better to be napping and hiding in dark places where the sun can’t find you.
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Dear Joe,
            You burn brighter than any sun.  Keep it up.
Love,
Will and Andy