Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Leslie's take on Italy
This is an excerpt of an email that Leslie sent out to friends and fam, recently. It tells some tales from our Italian adventures that I forgot to write about.
On to the big city
After soaking up the sun on the coast, we headed up to Rome for another amazing week. We spent an adequate amount of time wandering (a nice way to say 'getting lost'), enjoying the sidewalk cafes and shopping to balance out the official sightseeing. My faves were the Pantheon and the Castel Sant'Angelo. I will spare you additional info about the history and structural details of the Pantheon (truly riveting stuff!!!). We got extremely lucky on the timing of our trip as it related to the Castle: we happened to take a free tour of St. Peter's one day and the guide mentioned that for 2 weeks of the year the passage between Vatican City and the Castle is opened to the public, and it coincided with our trip! So, our last night in Rome we went to check it out. It was incredible! We walked the passage, usually reserved for the Pope, and inside the castle we enjoyed exploring and seeing some of the exhibits while listening to an Irish folk band and drinking beer. AWESOME!
Train 'misadventures'
We then headed to Tuscany on the train. Getting to the train station was no problem and we were all set to arrive in Arezzo in time to pick up our rental car before it closed at 1pm. Feeling a bit tired from the previous night's activities, we piled into a train car with no air conditioning at about 9am. An hour or so later, the train just stopped in this little small town and the announcer stated that it would be 40 minutes before the problem was fixed! Annie and I decided to head over to the convenience store on the other side of the tracks for water and snacks--8 minutes later, we glance up to see the train moving! Shocked and beginning to panic, I realized that my mother was now responsible for taking all 6 bags off the train and that I HAD HER TICKET! In the case of a ticket check she would have been fined up to 50 euros! The town where we were was so small that there wasn't even a taxi within 30 minutes of the place, so all we could do was sit and wait for the next train 1 1/2 hours later. When we finally arrived in Arezzo, we found my amazing, super mom sitting calmly at a table in the station café, sipping a coke. Her first words were, "Well, that was a cheap way to get out of having to carry your luggage!" We all laughed and headed off to brave the unmarked Tuscan country roads in our rental car.
Under the Tuscan sun, but not "gay and away"
Sorry, I couldn't resist the reference. J Despite the frustration of getting around with minimal signage and less than ideal maps, we enjoyed day trips to Siena, San Giomagnano, and Florence. Highlights: meeting the grandfatherly-type man who worked at the local corner store and having him recommend some wines for us, laughing hysterically at the comedian entertaining hot and tired tourists in the main piazza of Siena (I have a clip but it's too big to send!), having excellent meals accompanied by excellent wine, and hanging out at our little villa meeting the other guests (German and Scottish). Florence was, of course, amazing, but we didn't get to spend enough time there, so it is on the list for next time.
On to the big city
After soaking up the sun on the coast, we headed up to Rome for another amazing week. We spent an adequate amount of time wandering (a nice way to say 'getting lost'), enjoying the sidewalk cafes and shopping to balance out the official sightseeing. My faves were the Pantheon and the Castel Sant'Angelo. I will spare you additional info about the history and structural details of the Pantheon (truly riveting stuff!!!). We got extremely lucky on the timing of our trip as it related to the Castle: we happened to take a free tour of St. Peter's one day and the guide mentioned that for 2 weeks of the year the passage between Vatican City and the Castle is opened to the public, and it coincided with our trip! So, our last night in Rome we went to check it out. It was incredible! We walked the passage, usually reserved for the Pope, and inside the castle we enjoyed exploring and seeing some of the exhibits while listening to an Irish folk band and drinking beer. AWESOME!
Train 'misadventures'
We then headed to Tuscany on the train. Getting to the train station was no problem and we were all set to arrive in Arezzo in time to pick up our rental car before it closed at 1pm. Feeling a bit tired from the previous night's activities, we piled into a train car with no air conditioning at about 9am. An hour or so later, the train just stopped in this little small town and the announcer stated that it would be 40 minutes before the problem was fixed! Annie and I decided to head over to the convenience store on the other side of the tracks for water and snacks--8 minutes later, we glance up to see the train moving! Shocked and beginning to panic, I realized that my mother was now responsible for taking all 6 bags off the train and that I HAD HER TICKET! In the case of a ticket check she would have been fined up to 50 euros! The town where we were was so small that there wasn't even a taxi within 30 minutes of the place, so all we could do was sit and wait for the next train 1 1/2 hours later. When we finally arrived in Arezzo, we found my amazing, super mom sitting calmly at a table in the station café, sipping a coke. Her first words were, "Well, that was a cheap way to get out of having to carry your luggage!" We all laughed and headed off to brave the unmarked Tuscan country roads in our rental car.
Under the Tuscan sun, but not "gay and away"
Sorry, I couldn't resist the reference. J Despite the frustration of getting around with minimal signage and less than ideal maps, we enjoyed day trips to Siena, San Giomagnano, and Florence. Highlights: meeting the grandfatherly-type man who worked at the local corner store and having him recommend some wines for us, laughing hysterically at the comedian entertaining hot and tired tourists in the main piazza of Siena (I have a clip but it's too big to send!), having excellent meals accompanied by excellent wine, and hanging out at our little villa meeting the other guests (German and Scottish). Florence was, of course, amazing, but we didn't get to spend enough time there, so it is on the list for next time.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
So I married an Arab oil magnate
Last night at midnight I arrived in Dubai, United Arab Emirates. Unfortunately, I had not achieved my goal of finding a rich European duke to marry while in Germany. Mohammed will have to do. His family seems very kind and welcoming. I think I will quickly accustom myself to the traditional dress, though at times it is quite hot. At least at night under cover of darkness, Mohammed allows me to remove it.
Okay, actually, I failed at both of my goals: I found neither a rich European nobleman to marry, nor a job in Germany. So I came to Seoul, South Korea, via Dubai on Emirates Airlines. It was so posh! Every seat has its own flat-screen tv with satellite programming. For the first time in my life I ate delicious airline food. It was an excellent flight, despite the digestive problems of the German man sitting in my row. At one point, I had to open my little overhead air blower and just point it directly at him.
I arrived in Seoul amidst dreary grey clouds and a soft misting rain. My bus to Anyang passed mile after mile of tall drab tenement complexes. The only thing standing out against the landscape were the blood-red neon crosses topping every church steeple. I'm not sure if they're supposed to be inviting or scary.
It's 4 am and I can't sleep for the jetlag. Leslie's living space is a tiny studio apartment barely big enough for one person, so I'm trying to type quietly. We both agree that the quickest way to end a friendship is to live together in a studio apartment. I need to find a job/apt. asap.
So I've abandoned one land of socks with sandals (Germany) in favor of another land of socks with sandals (So. Korea). To me, it's fashion suicide. Leslie says she has come to like it. I replied, "Who are you and what have you done with my friend Leslie?"
Okay, actually, I failed at both of my goals: I found neither a rich European nobleman to marry, nor a job in Germany. So I came to Seoul, South Korea, via Dubai on Emirates Airlines. It was so posh! Every seat has its own flat-screen tv with satellite programming. For the first time in my life I ate delicious airline food. It was an excellent flight, despite the digestive problems of the German man sitting in my row. At one point, I had to open my little overhead air blower and just point it directly at him.
I arrived in Seoul amidst dreary grey clouds and a soft misting rain. My bus to Anyang passed mile after mile of tall drab tenement complexes. The only thing standing out against the landscape were the blood-red neon crosses topping every church steeple. I'm not sure if they're supposed to be inviting or scary.
It's 4 am and I can't sleep for the jetlag. Leslie's living space is a tiny studio apartment barely big enough for one person, so I'm trying to type quietly. We both agree that the quickest way to end a friendship is to live together in a studio apartment. I need to find a job/apt. asap.
So I've abandoned one land of socks with sandals (Germany) in favor of another land of socks with sandals (So. Korea). To me, it's fashion suicide. Leslie says she has come to like it. I replied, "Who are you and what have you done with my friend Leslie?"
Monday, August 21, 2006
Caffeinated water...brilliant!
At one of the clubs Isabella, Anna and I went to the other night, they only served caffeinated water. Ingenious.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
From fly to bee infestation
In Italy, they have a serious fly problem. The person who introduces fly paper to the Italians will be a billionaire. You can't sit down at a meal without being swarmed by flies, and eventually one learns to identify with the poor starving African children seen on television who allow them to feast uncontested on their crusty eyes. Resistance is futile. Just as I was getting used to the constant crawl of flies over my bare skin at every meal I ate, I left Italy (yes, it took me two and a half weeks, being the spoiled American that I am).
Here in Germany, the number of flies is negligible. Instead they have bees. I must say that I prefer the bees. Though mildly threatening, their slower, meandering flights offer many more opportunities to swat successfully, and besides that, they don't crawl on you.
Last night Uschi's daughter Isabella and her best friend Anna took me out to a couple of clubs so that we could dance to 'black' music. They don't mince words here. Even the DJ said it. They don't use the German word for black (schwarz), either. The wierd thing is that latin pop music (like Shakira) somehow falls into this category, from what I can tell.
We danced til 4 am at a club in Heilbronn called MusikPark, at which point I thought my feet were going to burst from throbbing. I need a foot massage.
They only have dial-up here, so it'll be a few days before I can get photos up of the 20 ft.-long wooden penis that Isabella showed me in Heilbronn's citycenter last night. Now THAT'S art.
Here in Germany, the number of flies is negligible. Instead they have bees. I must say that I prefer the bees. Though mildly threatening, their slower, meandering flights offer many more opportunities to swat successfully, and besides that, they don't crawl on you.
Last night Uschi's daughter Isabella and her best friend Anna took me out to a couple of clubs so that we could dance to 'black' music. They don't mince words here. Even the DJ said it. They don't use the German word for black (schwarz), either. The wierd thing is that latin pop music (like Shakira) somehow falls into this category, from what I can tell.
We danced til 4 am at a club in Heilbronn called MusikPark, at which point I thought my feet were going to burst from throbbing. I need a foot massage.
They only have dial-up here, so it'll be a few days before I can get photos up of the 20 ft.-long wooden penis that Isabella showed me in Heilbronn's citycenter last night. Now THAT'S art.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Germany, the land of efficiency and railroad suicides
I've finally made it to Germany, where lines are short, time is valuable and pedestrians have the right of way. After leaving the coast of Northwestern Italy, where I spent five days sunning myself on the rocky beach with my friend Leslie, I was in Interlaken, Switzerland for a night of drinks and dancing at a wild hostel. Mad props to Chris, the Scot who helped me get there.
After Interlaken, I headed to Zurich, where I accompanied my new pal Jason to the Street Parade. Street Parade is a festival in the citycenter with 800,ooo people in attendance. Five stages were set up at various points around the river, each playing techno/house/drum and bass/club music, mixed by some of the best DJs in the world. 30 parade floats also playing hard-thumping music followed the parade route. If someone had dropped a bomb in Zurich that day, most, if not all of the world's Eurotrash would have been eliminated.
I have never danced so much in my life, nor have I ever seen so many mohawks, faux-hawks and acid-washed jeans. Think 12 hours straight of dancing, wild costumes, drinking and drug-induced stupors (not mine, of course :). I should have worn earplugs.
We showed up around 1pm, and the Street Parade was already in full swing. People of all ages were out, breaking it down even through the rainshowers that dotted the afternoon sky. I saw some of the best dancing in my life, and by midnight I could barely move, my legs were so sore. At one point in the afternoon, we entered a head shop. After browsing around for a few minutes, we left. A few minutes later, Jason discovered that he had left the store with a baseball cap in his hand...not his baseball cap, rather one he had been looking at in the store. We were quite a way from the store by that point, so just decided to keep going. Later, I wore the cap, which bore the label 'Boehseonkelz', which means 'Evil uncles' in German. I wore that cap for the next two days as well, and at the end of the second day, I was on my way to a hostel in Stuttgart with a German who was heading in the same direction. The German guy asked me if I liked the group Boehseonkelz, and I told him the story of how Jason inadvertently stole the hat, and that I had no idea what kind of music they played. He then told me that it was a rock group known for being Neo-Nazis. Great. Just great.
Anyway, my biggest surprise about the Street Parade was that it ended at midnight. All of the stages closed down, the music stopped, and cleanup crews began their difficult task. The streets were still filled with music-hungry revellers searching for any beat they could find. We were able to find a few bars still blasting music til the wee hours and continue dancing, but by four I had to find somewhere to sleep. Of course all of the hotels were booked, so we just followed the crowd to the train station, where almost every spare inch of wallspace was occupied by passed-out partiers. We had to walk around for several minutes to find a spot to crash. I cannot say how awesome the Zurich police are for leaving us and the thousands of other partiers with poor planning skills and no hotel reservations alone that morning in the train station, able to recover in peace.
The amazing thing is that by noon the next morning, everything was spotless throughout Zurich. Those people really know how to remove trash and beer/vomit stench like nobody's business.
After Zurich, on my parents' recommendation, I headed to Konstanz, a city on the Bodensee between Germany and Switzerland. Apparently I wasn't the only one with that idea, because every hostel there was booked. So I got a ticket to Stuttgart, with a stop in Singen, where I was to change trains. The train from Singen was supposed to leave minutes after I arrived there from Konstanz, so I had to sprint to its platform with seconds to spare. As it turned out, though, someone had committed suicide on the train tracks somewhere up ahead, and the train had to sit for 3 hours while they cleared the tracks. Uschi, the woman I'm staying with in Heilbronn, Germany, told me this happens a lot here.
After Interlaken, I headed to Zurich, where I accompanied my new pal Jason to the Street Parade. Street Parade is a festival in the citycenter with 800,ooo people in attendance. Five stages were set up at various points around the river, each playing techno/house/drum and bass/club music, mixed by some of the best DJs in the world. 30 parade floats also playing hard-thumping music followed the parade route. If someone had dropped a bomb in Zurich that day, most, if not all of the world's Eurotrash would have been eliminated.
I have never danced so much in my life, nor have I ever seen so many mohawks, faux-hawks and acid-washed jeans. Think 12 hours straight of dancing, wild costumes, drinking and drug-induced stupors (not mine, of course :). I should have worn earplugs.
We showed up around 1pm, and the Street Parade was already in full swing. People of all ages were out, breaking it down even through the rainshowers that dotted the afternoon sky. I saw some of the best dancing in my life, and by midnight I could barely move, my legs were so sore. At one point in the afternoon, we entered a head shop. After browsing around for a few minutes, we left. A few minutes later, Jason discovered that he had left the store with a baseball cap in his hand...not his baseball cap, rather one he had been looking at in the store. We were quite a way from the store by that point, so just decided to keep going. Later, I wore the cap, which bore the label 'Boehseonkelz', which means 'Evil uncles' in German. I wore that cap for the next two days as well, and at the end of the second day, I was on my way to a hostel in Stuttgart with a German who was heading in the same direction. The German guy asked me if I liked the group Boehseonkelz, and I told him the story of how Jason inadvertently stole the hat, and that I had no idea what kind of music they played. He then told me that it was a rock group known for being Neo-Nazis. Great. Just great.
Anyway, my biggest surprise about the Street Parade was that it ended at midnight. All of the stages closed down, the music stopped, and cleanup crews began their difficult task. The streets were still filled with music-hungry revellers searching for any beat they could find. We were able to find a few bars still blasting music til the wee hours and continue dancing, but by four I had to find somewhere to sleep. Of course all of the hotels were booked, so we just followed the crowd to the train station, where almost every spare inch of wallspace was occupied by passed-out partiers. We had to walk around for several minutes to find a spot to crash. I cannot say how awesome the Zurich police are for leaving us and the thousands of other partiers with poor planning skills and no hotel reservations alone that morning in the train station, able to recover in peace.
The amazing thing is that by noon the next morning, everything was spotless throughout Zurich. Those people really know how to remove trash and beer/vomit stench like nobody's business.
After Zurich, on my parents' recommendation, I headed to Konstanz, a city on the Bodensee between Germany and Switzerland. Apparently I wasn't the only one with that idea, because every hostel there was booked. So I got a ticket to Stuttgart, with a stop in Singen, where I was to change trains. The train from Singen was supposed to leave minutes after I arrived there from Konstanz, so I had to sprint to its platform with seconds to spare. As it turned out, though, someone had committed suicide on the train tracks somewhere up ahead, and the train had to sit for 3 hours while they cleared the tracks. Uschi, the woman I'm staying with in Heilbronn, Germany, told me this happens a lot here.
Friday, August 11, 2006
In den Bergen
This morning something amazing happened to me. I came to a crosswalk and two cars were coming, from opposite directions. There were no stopsigns. BOTH of the cars stopped to let me cross. I almost didn't know what to do. Then I remembered that I am no longer in Italy, one of the most pedestrian-unfriendly countries I have visited (again, the similarities between Italy and Latin America are astounding).
I am in Interlaken, Switzerland.
It felt like coming home yesterday when I arrived from Milan to a Swiss train station. Finally, I can understand what people are saying to me! My German is coming back to me quickly, and I'm amazed at how quickly I remembered how to order a beer.
Unfortunately, I have nothing to offer by way of photos of the dreaded mullet, which I described in my last post (by the way, Dad, a mullet is a haircut with short hair on the top and sides, with long hair in the back. I'm sure you've seen many examples in Henderson. Business up front, party in the back. Another name for this is a Kentucky Waterfall.). I do have photos of banana hammocks, but I don't think they're appropriate for my high-class blog.
One more quick note about Italian hairstyles: dreaded rattails. 'Nuff said.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
The Dreaded Mullet
Due to ridiculous internet prices and beautiful beckoning rocky Mediterranean beaches, I haven't been keeping up my blog. For the same reasons, I will make this short. I just wanted to describe a couple of things about Italy that have struck me as interesting or downright hilarious.
First of all, the mullet is en vogue here. I see several a day, and have actually learned to appreciate it. I have seen some really good mullets. However, I have also seen some horrific ones. I have dubbed the worst ones (note that I use the plural...seeing this was not a one-time occurrence) the 'Dreaded Mullet': short hair on top, dreadlocks in the back.
Capri man-pants are totally in here as well. Banana hammocks are the norm as far as beachwear goes, and the Italian men really dig daisy dukes as leisurewear. I have seen WAY too many manthighs over the past couple of weeks.
Many stores have the college-dorm-style beaded curtains hanging in the front door. The first time we saw this at a butcher shop in Tuscany, we just assumed that the 70-year-old butcher was just a really hip dude. Apparently this has a purpose though: it serves as a screen against flies. Brilliant, no?
Just like in Spain, restaurant service is awful at best. I guess they let the awesome food do all the talking, because waiters here leave something to be desired. At least you're not expected to tip much. I would really have a problem tipping these people more than $1 for getting ignored most of the time.
That said, the food is incredible! Everything is super-fresh and cooked perfectly. One needn't ever worry about quality.
Italian time is like Latino time, but worse. Efficiency is not a priority in everyday tasks. Even the simplest things, like buying bandaids at the pharmacy or a banana at the grocery store takes FOREVER. These people are definitely not in a hurry to do anything, and I've had to learn to just give up on getting anything completed in a reasonable amount of time. For example, today Leslie said she was going to pay our hotel bill. The hotel office was right across the street. I thought she would be right back, but 30 minutes later she walks in, totally frustrated. Apparently the office worker couldn't run the credit card. She wasn't allowed to. Only the owner could, and he wasn't there. So the woman had to call him on the phone, and 20 minutes later he comes in, runs the card through the machine and then leaves.
What Italy lacks in time management, it makes up for in breathtaking beauty. The seaside is rocky and steep, and the Mediterranean is crystal clear with the most incredible shades of blue and green. We took a 4-hour hike along the coast a couple of days ago. It was about 5 km as the bird flies, but probably 9 or 10 km on foot because of the grade. We were constantly walking up or down rocky stairs. Not a good idea to do hung over and on 2 cups of Italian coffee. The views were spectacular though!
Tomorrow Leslie goes back to S. Korea and I move on to Switzerland. I'll probably stop in Zurich and head over to Lake Konstanz, between Germany and Switzerland. Then I head on to Heilbronn, Germany to visit my parents' friend Uschi Grandi.
I've totally fallen in love with Europe and am going to try to look for a job here instead of in S. Korea. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
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