June 24, 2017 – Last Day in Naples

Before I begin this post, I am going to start with a disclaimer: I am trying to write all of this on my brand new tiny keyboard that I just purchased at a Tiger store on a whim. (For those who don’t know or remember, Tiger is my number one favorite store in the whole entire world, and they are based in Denmark.) Technically, the purchase was only kind of on a whim, considering I woke up this morning with the desire to purchase a tiny laptop to make writing easier. Luckily, this was much cheaper and a bit more practical. The disclaimer part comes with the fact that this, being a keyboard purchased in Denmark, is a Danish keyboard, and this mixed with being a mini keyboard means that all of the keys are in strange places. To make things worse, I have discovered that not all of the key labels are correctly, so when I want to type a new character, I just kind of have to poke around for awhile and hope I get lucky.

For example, it took me ten minutes to write the first three lines of this post because I couldn’t figure out the colon, parentheses, or apostrophe. So, I apologize in advance if any typos slip my review.

Now that’s taken care of, we can get to the meat of things: My Last Day In Naples.

I had one more day to spend in this Italian city, so I did what any girl would do: I left it. I woke up early, indulged in Francisco’s adorableness, and hit the town. I may have gotten a granita on my way to the train station. It’s all a blur, really. But I made it to the train station around eleven and went off in search for tickets to Sorrento, a coastal town that Rick Steves recommends to be used as a “sunny springboard” for any stay in the area. Too bad I didn’t do that research early on!

I ran into issues at the train station, and ended up wasting about half an hour because only one train company sells tickets from Naples to Sorrento, and they were located in the station’s basement. I didn’t get on a train until 11:45, but that still left me plenty of time until my 6:30 departure from the coastal town of Amalfi.

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I had it all planned out: I’d spend a couple hours in Sorrento, book a ticket on one of the world’s most beautiful bus rides (according to RickSteves), and have another couple hours to walk around and get dinner in Amalfi before returning ‘home.’

The train ride was much the same as the one to Pompeii, but it contained on after the ruins to get to the coast. It was a little concerning getting to the city, because the only maps available at the station were €5 and I wasn’t having any part of that. I decided to leave a trail of breadcrumbs (figuratively) and try to not wander too much so I could make it back the way I had come.

Sorrento’s streets were much like those of Ischia, though a bit less bustling and with a lesser desperate-tourist-destination vibe. I liked it, though. Very serene and sunny, indeed. I had to pee pretty much from the moment I got on the train, but I couldn’t find any restaurants that looked enticing enough to offer more than a toilet. I continued my search, but I figured there was always the beach!

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I did manage to find a very cute little gelato shop with a very cute gelato boy behind the counter, and he suggested I try the cheesecake and the lemon. It was an interesting combination, but very satisfying, and he even put this adorable tiny cone on top of the rest of the cone. So cute!

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His scoops were actually so big I couldn’t quite finish it, but oh well.

Next, I continued my meanderings and slowly found my way to the beach via a long, windy street without a sidewalk. I had to dodge many cars and scooters, and twice I felt my hat lifted from my head and turned around to find it hanging from a low branch.

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The beach was nice, but I was too scared about leaving my purse unattended to go swimming. I took a couple dunks, but it only cooled off the lower half of my body. Ha!

I sat behind some American girls, which was strange. It is always a bit unnerving for me to overhear Americans while in Europe. I came here to experience different cultures after all, not to hear American girls complain about internships and tanning.

After hanging out for a while with my book and a sandwich, it was time to head back to the bus station.

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One last granita for the road (not a fan of the strawberry – bad choice), and I managed to snag a window seat.

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The bus ride was positively gorgeous, just as Rick Steves said. It is crazy to think that people actually live in these amazing, picturesque villages.

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It was also amazing that I didn’t die. The street was so windy and narrow, and it was always a bit of a puzzle to pass other cars, seeing as the road was really more of a 1.5-lane than anything else. At one point, we were passing through a village, when suddenly a horribly unpleasant and rather drawn-out thudding rocked underneath the bus. The riders craned their necks to try and see what had happened, and the lady next to me was sure we had hit someone. It turned out we had actually demolished a parked motorcycle!

The bus began a slow reverse, back up this windy road, narrowly missing several other parked motorcycles in the process!  I thought maybe we were backing up to get the motorcycle out from under us, but it became clear soon that it was actually to let another bus by in the other direction. There was literally inches of space between these two monster vehicles. I honestly don’t know how they did it.

And then we continued on, seemingly forgetting the motorcycle…

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Because of all the hubbub, we arrived about half an hour late to our destination of Amalfi. I really wasn’t planning anything here except to wander and grab some dinner, but I became worried when our bus arrived at a bus station and sea port, but with no trains in sight. I had purchased a train ticket out of this place which was scheduled to leave in just over an hour.

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I found a ticket desk and asked for the train station. No such thing, she said. Only boats and busses.

Okay….

I showed her my tickets. She didn’t know where my train was supposed to leave from, but it was not here. She made a plan for me to take the ferry to the town of Salerno, where I could catch a train back to Naples. Seeing as I didn’t have much other choice, I agreed, bought a salad, and was on the ferry in about ten minutes.

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Didn’t see much of Amalfi, really, but it did seem like a cute town. The ferry was nice, too. Can’t really complain.

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Then the train…. Then the walk…. Then my last night in Naples.

Overall, I would say Naples has a lot to offer, and people really underrated it. Much like my experience with Milan, I found that if you go in blindly and take the time to really appreciate all the city and area has to offer, you can find something special in any place.

That’s all for now. Copenhagen is next!

 

Venlig hilsen/ ciao,

Lizzy-wa

June 23, 2017 – Pompeii Heeeeeyyyyy

Okay. You guys saw my ‘plan’ for today, so I guess I don’t really need to tell you what went down. Right?

Ha. Jk. Here’s how it went:

First thing, I woke up and lay in a bed for a while. Standard. I was trying to get the motivation to get moving early, but that didn’t really happen. Around ten, I decided to mosey over to breakfast. And boy was I pleasantly surprised! Francisco had set up an entire little place setting for me and the last remaining guest to eat breakfast  (who never showed). Each setting had a plate, bowl, mug, croissant, muffin, and madeline. Then on the table was an assortment of teas, jams, cereal, and coffee, and when I opened the fridge, I found yogurt and milk. So cute!

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I settled in with my book (er… kindle.. not proud of it, but I didn’t make the time to choose a good book to bring, and a friend had just given me a free kindle a couple days before my trip sooo…), and tucked in. After about ten minutes, Francisco rushed in apologizing for putting the orange juice away already, and he ran back from the kitchen to fill my glass. Seriously such a cutie.

After breakfast, I ended up…..

Lying in bed for a while. Ha! I was seriously so confused by my time in Naples. Never before have I been so lazy while travelling. It made me feel horrible, but at the same time I really didn’t care. I was catching up on rest and still seeing plenty.

I spent some time reading around on what to do since it was clear I would not have time to do the ‘everything’ I had originally been planning. I had been debating going to Pompeii, because I wasn’t really in the ‘walk around and look at things’ mode that I am in normally when traveling, and I also didn’t have a serious desire to see many petrified, lava-covered humans…. I didn’t think my tired brain could handle that at the moment. But still, even Rick Steves seemed to think it was a necessity when in Naples even only on a day trip, and the train was fast and cheap, so I figured I should make the trek.

I also noted that most people recommended the Naples archeological museum as the number one attraction in the city. I’m really not a huge fan of archeological museums. I much prefer paintings or other art forms, with natural museums coming in second. However, the archeological museum was made up mostly of art and objects excavated from Pompeii, so the general consensus on The Internet was that it was a good idea to see what had been IN Pompeii before seeing the empty, deserted ruins of the ancient city itself.

So off I went! I bought my tickets to and from Pompeii, giving myself a couple of hours to wander Naples and the museum, a couple of hours to wander Pompeii, and a train ride back that would get me in the apartment before dark.

On my way to the museum, I grabbed a granita and took a detour to the Duomo. It was closed, unfortunately, so I couldn’t actually go inside.

 

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I wandered a little longer than planned and managed to stumble upon quite a few markets.

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I also started being less freaked out by the city and more appreciative of its long, busy streets full of apartments and laundry hanging out windows. I realized that’s why Naples is so crowded all the time: practically every building is an apartment complex. There are just so.many.people. living in this city. They really cram them in!

I finally made it to the museum, where I posed with emperor Titus  (I think).

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I took it pretty easy. Wasn’t trying to spend nine hours here like I had in the Louvre. Honestly, my favorite things about the museum were the museum building itself and the views from its many windows.

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There was also a Secret Room, which housed ancient naughty paintings and giant stone penises hanging from about every surface. It was…. interesting to say the least.

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As I made my way out of the museum, I found a really lovely little gallery of sorts, and I spent a few minutes listening to a beautiful rendition of Thriller by a girls choir (not pictured.)

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Then, much to my surprise, I found a street that I… actually really liked. Like a lot. Like so much that I ended up walking down it for many more minutes than I should have given how close I was to needing to be on my train to Pompeii.

I don’t know what it was about this street. It was just a little less crowded, a little less loud, lined with shops, and I had long figured out how to cross the street without getting run over or yelled at. I criss crossed to the other sidewalk whenever I found a shop that seemed interesting. I peeked down alleys. I bought another granita. (Dude, it helps me cool off!) I was also whistled and winked at by a very attractive Italian police officer, so no complaints there. (Not like a creepy whistle. More like an attention-getting whistle just so he could wink at me. Bahaha.)

By the time I decided I really, really needed to be heading toward my train, I pulled out my map and realized I was kind of on the wrong side of the city…. To the metro, we go! Barely made the metro. Barely made the train. But I did, with spare time to grab a salad to eat on the way. And I eventually made it all the way to Pompeii.

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So here’s where I kind of messed up again. I only bargained for two hours between the time my train arrived in Pompeii and the time my next train left. It was less than what was recommended, but I was tired and short on time, and I figured some time was better than no time!

What I did not bargain for was that the ruins were not right outside the train station, as I had thought. I went to the information desk, where a young Italian man informed me that it was a thirty minute walk to the ruins. I did not exactly have time for that, so I had to opt for the three euro shuttle bus. I paid my fare, was handed what was essentially half a receipt with something scribbled on it (Is this really a ticket? I’m thinking), and then I was told to wait near the door.

I went. I waited. I saw no bus or bus stop. And I also noticed that I was the only one waiting for this ‘bus.’

After waiting quite a while, I actually ended up getting a ride with the attractive information desk man. It was a little strange, and probably not normal protocol unless they do this all the time, but it did get me to the ruins in the end, so I guess I can’t complain too much. The information desk man was also basically a young Marcello, so that was certainly nice. We talked about Pompeii and my upcoming trip to Sorrento, and he told me to make sure to swim while I was there.

The conversation is kind of a blur, but at some point, he started slowing down and took the map from my hands to flip it over, then began pointing out where he was dropping me off and where I would exit and how to get back to the train station where he would be waiting for me (last part was in my head). I thanked him and then he said it was nice to meet me as I lithely flew from the passenger seat. He was much less terrifying as I thanked him and closed the door, but I still walked rather quickly toward the entrance gates as I made sure he was pulling away and not getting out to follow me.

Overall experience: strange, but left me distracted from the heat for a while. Advice to future self: next time, make sure there is an actual bus.

Right. So. Pompeii.

Pompeii was actually quite lovely, and in the hour and a half I walked around, never once did I see a lava-covered human. I didn’t realize this until after I left, and I certainly had not been looking for them, but I am glad I never came upon them.

The streets of Pompeii reminded me of my trip to Rome, which is likely to put any girl in a good mood. I was still tired and a bit homesick, but it was nice to enjoy something that made it feel like I was a normal traveler again. (Close encounters with swarthy foreigners help too, I guess.)

Pompeii was quiet and deserted, but it was easy to appreciate the life and commotion that would have taken place here once before. I loved walking around and exploring nooks and crannies. Gardens, boulevards, amphitheatres, temples, it was all gorgeous and calming.

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^Part of a large square – reminded me like the Roman Forum

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^Vesuvius in the background

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^These are ancient toilets in case you can’t tell.

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^I found a vineyard!

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^Mini Colloseum

The time to leave came quickly, though, and I made my way out the opposite side from which I had entered. Marcello had said I should expect a fifteen minute walk from this exit, and I had planned for just the right amount of time. Walking through the modern-day counterpart of the ruins I had left behind, though, I wished I had bargained for more time! It was such a cute little town, and I wanted to stop at every restaurant and trinket shop. When I came to the city’s cathedral, I stopped to take a picture and a waiter joked around and tried to photobomb me. Ha!

All too soon, I was back in the train station. I took one last look at Marcello and silently thanked him for not telling me his real name so I could continue calling him Marcello, then boarded my train.

Back in Naples, I was seriously hungry and seriously had to pee. I thought I would run back to my apartment, pee, run to Da Michelle’s Pizza, then eat in the air conditioning of my room. On my way there, though, I passed several tourist restaurants lining the station square.

Now, when I say tourist restaurant, I do not mean they serve bad food. They are situated in a touristy area and cater to tourists, but I have never had a bad experience with a so-called tourist restaurant (except maybe one time in France). They display their menus outside, so I could see that the food was cheap, and most everybody eats outside, so I could see that the food looked good. The sun would set in about an hour, but I figured that would give me enough time to get back safe to my apartment.

I had to wait a while to be seated, but I was finally given a table in the back near the restaurant front and away from the street. I was situated in the middle of three two-person tables, with an adorable 90 year old Italian man on my right and a beefy middle-aged man on my left.

The wait staff was made entirely of middle aged men except for one positively adorable young waiter. He and the manager continually came by the check on me, and the rest of the staff would slide a joke or a smile my way every time they passed.

I ordered the gnocchi and some white wine and settled in.

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I was mostly watching the little old man on my right, who stared off at other diners and said hardly anything to the wait staff. He had a full bottle of wine in an ice bucket next to him, but I never once saw him drink from his glass. He received a plate of two gigantic shrimp-looking things, which he cut to pieces but I never saw him eat, and then received a large plate of watermelon, which he doused in salt before devouring. I’ll have to see what that tastes like someday.

The man on my left spoke to me every once in awhile, commenting on the slow service or on how I should be eating my gnocchi (with fresh parmesan and olive oil on top) or how I should be drinking my wine (with a glass of sparkling water on the side). I thought about chatting with him, but he didn’t seem overly pleasant, so I figured I would just enjoy the meal.

He thought otherwise. His comments became longer and more detailed, until he finally said, ‘Now that the sun has gone down, now that it is dark, that it is night time, I give you some advice. You see that street over there?’ He pointed to the street lining the opposite side of the square. I nodded. ‘And you see this street here?’ He pointed to the street I needed to walk on to get back to my apartment. I nodded. Hesitantly. ‘Do not walk on these streets. You will be raped.’

…..

…..

…..

Oh. Kay.

Oh. Kay.

Uhm. No. Oh. Kay.

I am… quite terrified at this point. I have lost all interest in our conversation and in the food in front of me. I want very much to not be sitting next to this man and to not be needing to walk on this street that I need to walk on.

He continued to talk about how dangerous this city is, and how horrible this city is, and how horrible this country is. ‘In my country, Croatia, you can go on the streets and no one will rape you.’

I am desperately wishing he would stop talking at this point, and I am desperately wishing I have not been drinking wine, which I am just now started to feel. He tells me he is not trying to scare me or hurt me, but that he is just trying to make sure I am staying safe. But he is seriously freaking and creeping me out, tbh!!!

He finally stopped talking about the dangers of the city (‘I am telling you. Leave this place. First flight in the morning.’) long enough to ask about where I was from and what I did. He was a mechanic in the shipping industry, so he travels around the world on a daily basis, but for some reason he was just Not Feeling It with Italy.

I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to leave without being rude, when Cute Young Waiter appears in the nick of time to take my plate. I ask for the check and he asks if I want coffee or dessert. ‘Café, latte, chocolate,’ “Nonono, thank you.” ‘Cake, pudding, pastry, croissant,’ “Nonono, I’m too full, really.” ‘[insert many other drinks and desserts],’ “Nonono, really I’m too full.”

Then Croatian Man pops in: ‘She will have a Caffè corretto,’ he says. “Nonono,” I say quickly. The Croatian man explains what it is (espresso with a tiny bit of liquor) and how I need to try it, and I refuse again, chuckling nervously and shaking my head. The waiter asks if I am sure about ten times before smiling and leaving.

Leave me alone, Croatian Man! I am thinking. We chat a bit more, and the waiter comes back with the bill. I pick it up in time to see the total just as Croatian Man snatches it from my grasp and says, ‘I will take care of this,’ before placing it out of reach on his table and crossing his arms matter-of-factly. I look to Cute Waiter, he looks at Croatian Man, then we look at each other and simultaneously lift our arms in helpless shrugs. ‘It is no matter to me,’ he says, and smiles and leaves.

Well, GREAT! I’m thinking. How am I supposed to leave, now?!

I indulge Mr. Croatian Man in a few more minutes of conversation and try to decide how to escape. I think he ended up saying one more thing about how unsafe the city was, and I finally said something about how I ‘should probably be going’ and asked if he was sure he didn’t want  me to pay for myself. ‘Nonono, this is nothing. I will take care of this,’ he said.

‘Well… it was nice to meet you..’ I said. We shook hands and exchanged names, but he mumbled his and followed it quickly with, ‘but this is nothing,’ and a wave of his hand.

I thanked him again for picking up my bill, and all but ran to my apartment.

I made it there safely, obviously. It was just terrifying the whole way.

So, yes. A rather eventful and confusing day in Naples and Pompeii. At the end of the day, I did feel… a bit excited for the next day, I guess. Easy to be distracted from exhaustion when you’ve got questionable men to deal with, let alone free dinner.

Don’t worry about me, though! I don’t really know how to assure you, readers, not to worry about me and my travel decisions after reading this post, but please don’t worry about me. I’m smart. Sometimes. Croatian Man said he could see in my eyes that I’m not stupid.

I guess I just have to remind myself of that a little more often.

 

Venlig hilsen/ ciao,

Lizzy-wa

June 22, 2017 – Stuck on Ischia

Recap: I spent Tuesday basically doing nothing but sleeping, dozing, eating, and being hot. I decided that I need to make a plan for the next several days before I went to sleep so that I could be ‘productive’ for the last three days of my stay in Southern Italy. See said plan below:

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Pretty busy. Pretty ambitious. Especially considering the battling exhaustion and motivation within me. (Exhaustion had been winning in recent days.) But I had a ferry to catch! And that ferry came at 8:35am, so I didn’t have much wiggle room there. I woke up around six and spent a couple hours being hot and messing around on my phone. Because of this, by the time I found the drive to get out of bed, I didn’t have any time to sit down for breakfast. I inhaled the warm leftovers of my pizza dinner (probably not food safe), threw on a swimsuit, rubbed on some sunscreen, and essentially ran the entire way to the ferry port. What made me sad was that I saw/ heard Francisco, the Airbnb host, setting up breakfast, but I just didn’t have time to stay! (I would regret this the next morning when I finally did have time to check out his breakfast set-up.)

So most of my walk was along this very busy street on this very busy sidewalk, and it was already past eighty degrees, despite being around 8 in the morning.

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I held down my hat and walked quickly, barely making the ferry before it pulled out of the dock.

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I did get a very pretty view of Mount Vesuvius and the coast of Naples!

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I spent most of the hour-long ferry ride standing at the railing of the boat and thinking philosophical things about life. In fact, I was in a very thinking-heavy mood all day. (Probably not the best mood when traveling, but oh well.)

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Finally, the island of Ischia came into sight. Plenty of pretty beaches and colorful shops and houses.

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I spent a little while just wandering the streets lined with gelato stops and trinket shops. It was a jarring but refreshing contrast to the noisy streets of Naples I had left below my bedroom window.

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At some point, I found a little botanical garden. Initially, I thought it was a private garden of sorts, but there was a man watering plants, and when I came up behind him, he stepped aside and offered a welcome of ‘Prego,’ so I ventured inside.

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I ended up spending a couple hours in here, actually. I probably couldn’t tell you exactly what I did for this whole time aside from people-watching and life-pondering. All the life-pondering actually made me a bit homesick at one point, to be honest, and I finally moved on because my butt was getting sore sitting on the stone benches and because my stomach was losing its patience with me.

At one point, something scuttled out from behind me and stood a foot away from me on my bench, and it took me a second to realise it was a sort of little gecko lizard thing! So cute! I watched it for a while until it took its daring dash out into the sunlight to sprint to the other side of the park. (No picture, sorry).

Cue more wandering. I had found some shops and restaurants in the morning that I wanted to return to, but it seemed silly to backtrack all the way when there were other corners to explore. One thing I noticed was that in the two or three hours I had been in the garden, the streets of Ischia had become… eerily calm and quiet. Don,t get me wrong. The streets had already been nice and relaxing, but there were plenty of tourists and locals wandering around when I had first stepped off the boat. Now, around one in the afternoon, it was essentially a ghost town.

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I decided to try to find water, thinking maybe everyone had retreated to the beaches to cool off in the rising heat, and I think I was probably right. I found a little beach shack manned by a boy in his early teens who spoke no English and a man who I assumed was his grandpa. Other than an older man smoking in the corner, I had the shack to myself. I ordered the spaghetti aglio e olio (garlic and olive oil) and a lemon granita and settled in to enjoy the view.

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After downing the granita and finishing about half the pasta (Italian food is just so filling! even when I am so hungry!), I headed down to the beach to read for another couple hours, giving up on my original plan to make it to the island Procida and back to Naples in time to explore some more there. *shrug*.

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I didn’t make it all the way into the water, unfortunately. I was too nervous to leave my purse unattended, and it really wasn’t that hot sitting right in front of the wind off the water. I stepped in up to my waist a couple times, but I regretted not doing a full dunk once I left the shore and the temperature raised about ten degrees again.

I did a little more exploring…

And then ate a little gelato…

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I managed to get my gelato down my arm, on my hat, and in my purse. Go me.

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Another quirky little thing I noticed about Ischia was that there were tiny little shop dogs everywhere, and they all seemed to just lie outside their shops or in the middle of the street, seemingly dead or close to dead due to the heat. I just wanted to give them a wading pool to swim in or something! I sure hope they were getting enough water. Whenever I found one, I usually bent down to give them some love before continuing on.

At this point, I felt my time at Ischia had been well (enough) spent, and that I would feel comfortable heading back to Naples to explore a bit and hit the hay early. I thought I had remembered there being a ferry to Naples leaving around six, so I made sure to head to the ferry terminal around five. I got in at 5:30 just as a ferry was pulling out of the dock, and it turned out that was the last ferry until 7:30….. Ugh…. Great planning on my part, right?

So what was I supposed to do now? I felt completely fulfilled and finished with Ischia, but here I was, stuck for another two hours… *sigh*…. Back to reading, I guess. I found a spot on a bench, made myself comfy, and spent the rest of my time on Ischia reading and watching sailors prepare their ships for some night sailing. I very much wanted to jump onto one of the boats with them, but it didn’t seem like the best or brightest idea, really. My fantasies would have to do.

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Half a book later, I finally got on my ferry, got back to my room, and slept pretty darn well that night….

To be continued on Day Three in Naples.

Venlig hilsen/ ciao,

Lizzy-wa

 

 

June 21, 2017 – Naples is Loud

Naples is loud.

And hot. And muggy. And busy. And crowded. And hot.

I touched down at Naples airport just before eleven on Tuesday, and I was expecting it to be hot. It was hot in Annecy, too. However, somehow the loudness just added to the hotness.

Oh. Quick side note: check out those mountains!!!

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I hadn’t figured out exactly how to make it to the city center beforehand (you’ll figure out quickly that this Naples excursion has been a mess), so I went to the information desk for help. Something that was bothering me was that I couldn’t remember how to say ‘hello’ in Italian. Ciao didn’t seem quite right. However, I figured I would just do what I had been doing the past several days and parrot everything back to the information lady. It works wonders in French. (Not so much in Italian.)

You see, the first thing she said to me was, ‘Prego.’ I smiled hesitantly with relief and said, ‘Prego,’ before launching into my spiel. See looked unimpressed and pointed me toward the bus.

It wasn’t until I was ushered onto the bus by an older Italian man saying ‘Prego’ with a gesturing motion that I remembered prego means something closer to ‘go ahead’ or ‘you have my permission to speak/ come in/ go out.’ It does not mean ‘hello.’

Awkward…. Live and learn, right? I barely made it out of the airport in time to be the last person on the airport transfer bus. It was crowded and warm, and I was squeezed somewhere between suitcases.

We were dropped off in the middle of a very, very crowded street. Keep in mind that I was going into this Naples excursion somewhat uneasy. Nearly everybody I had talked to about my little solo trip exclaimed that ‘Naples is kind of sketchy! Be careful!’

This really did nothing but worry me, though. I could have seen with my own eyes that it was a bit sketchy on entering the city center, but the previous warnings just made me twitchy and on edge.

I was extremely lost because the bus hadn’t dropped us off precisely where I thought it would. I tried walking around to find the streets I was looking for, but instead of street signs I found leering bag, shoe, and sunglasses salesmen lining the roaring streets. I managed to make it around to the central train station, examine a paper map, and make a plan before setting off again.

Was quite terrifying trying to find my Airbnb, mostly because I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in an unsafe place due to the many warnings I had received. The streets I had to walk on to get to my apartment were almost as busy, loud, and bustling as the first I had wandered. I decided to attach myself to a mother and her children for safety, but lost her when it came time to cross a very busy street with very fast-moving scooters, motorcycles, and tiny cars. With no stoplight.

Aye-yeye-yaaa.. was scary. Barely made it. This confusion and terror lasted a while longer as I scrambled to find my apartment, then scrambled to make it inside my apartment, but then….

Salvation.

This was the first time I had ever stayed in a private room by myself. When I had stayed in Airbnbs, I have had others with me, and when travelling by myself, I have always stayed in hostels because it seems safer to have a well-established community and a building easily located on maps. However, the hostel selection in Naples was lacking at best, and this apartment seemed to be a sort of mini hostel with great reviews and a central location.

Couldn’t have picked a better place, if you ask me! The host, Francesco, is adorable, welcoming, smiley, and helpful. My room is huge, right across from what has been essentially my own private bathroom (have never seen anybody else go in or out of it) and I am four flights up on top of a bustling street with laundry hanging out my window.

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Quite the immersive Naples living experience, if you ask me. I enjoyed the calm and privacy of my apartment, and considering how exhausted I still was and how hot it was outside, I decided to lay down for a while.

Before I knew it I had been laying there for five hours, dozing in and out of sleep and chatting with various people from home, looking up things to do, and just generally being lazy and listening to all the sounds outside my window.

Soon after five though, my stomach decided it was time to actually do something with my body other than forget it was there.

Fine, I said. I would investigate this pizza place Cousin Katie had recommended, which just happened to be right around the corner from my apartment.

It seemed an unsuspecting, unextraordinary kind of place. Smallish, relaxed, seemingly no different than any of the other little cafes and pizza shops I had passed by since landing.

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It wasn’t until I sat down that I realized this place was famous. Over in the corner, cut out of a cheap print on plain white paper and taped haphazardly onto the plexiglass between the pizza prep area and the diners, was a photo of Julia Roberts. She was eating the exact pizza I saw in front of me and sitting across from where I was currently.

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Okay… weird.

I shared a table with three others. To my right was a little old Italian lady, and she was scraping up the last bits of an entire pizza which she herself had devoured. Across from her was a rather swarthy young Italian man who was in a hurry. And in front of me was a friendly-seeming girl who laughed when I ordered water and was presented with a bottle of Coke.

I decided to strike up conversation with her. She was Polish, and she, like me, had chosen Naples because of a cheap flight and a travel-partnerless situation. Neither of us had a plan. Both of us were hot. We had both arrived several hours earlier and had as of yet accomplished nothing but sitting down and ordering the ‘double mozzarella,’ which the Italian lady to my right insisted upon.

The difference between her and me is that she had chosen Naples with purpose, and her purpose was this pizza. “That’s a long way to travel for pizza,” I said. She said she just hoped it was worth it.

Minutes later, two enormous, simple, deliciously greasy looking pizzas were slapped down in front of us, and my first thought was that we should have shared one.

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I honestly can’t tell if I’m excited r scared. Haha. The first bite was at once creamy, crisp, salty, sweet….. mouthwatering.

“I’m in love,” said Julia Roberts in Eat, Pray, Love. “I’m having a relationship with my pizza.”

I eventually gave up and decided there was just no way I would ever finish this pizza, regardless of how hungry I had been when I sat down. “Do you think they give boxes?” I asked my dining partner. “I see some back there, but I haven’t seen anybody get one.”

She laughed. “I think it is just that everyone else is finishing theirs.”

I sucked up my pride and asked for a box. I wanted to ask the Polish girl if she wanted to explore a bit, but I was feeling lazy, so I went back to my apartment to stick the pizza in the fridge (it didn’t fit), and then was planning on walking around the city for a couple hours until it started to get dark. I did manage to wander a teensy bit on the way back to my apartment.

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But…. My room was just so cozy…. And the bed was so inviting….

I didn’t leave my apartment that night. *sigh*…

I made a plan though! I may not have time to explore Napoli itself, but I would make up for it in the next three days. All the surrounding cities. All the islands. I would wake up early for a ferry and go from there!

Stay tuned to find out what actually happened…. Haha.

 

-Venlig hilsen/ ciao,

Lizzy-wa

June 20, 2017 – Magical, Mystical Annecy

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I’d never heard of this place called Annecy, but I have learned throughout my traveling that when someone else is excited about a place or an activity, it is often for good reason. I had no personal motivating desire to go to Iceland with a group of near strangers two years ago, but it was one of the greatest trips of my study abroad experience. When a friend suggested we take a weekend trip to northern France just to see a concert for an artist I didn’t know, I said yes, and it was one of the best, most relaxed, smiliest trips I took with that person (despite the fact we never made it up to the concert!) When in Iceland, one of the girls had a desperate urge to see the world’s largest penis museum, I had to be dragged along, but… it certainly gave me some stories to tell.

So when Cousin Katie said she was doing a two-day solo trip to this little French town a short drive from Geneva, I said, ‘Can it not be a solo trip???’

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Needless to say, it was a magical, wonderful town and a great two day excursion. We took the bus over from Geneva early afternoon on Sunday, and when we arrived, we went straight to a little cafe for pastries / lunch / WiFi. It was a little concerning at first because all of our cards were being declined, but I quickly realized the shop probably didn’t accept international cards. I had to run out to grab some cash while Katie awkwardly waited with the cafe employees.

The food was delicious though! Pastries, salad, and grapefruit juice. The sun was already beating us into the ground without mercy at 3:30 in the afternoon, and the four flights of steps up to our Airbnb were tasking to say the least. We arrived only to find out we had a time mix up with the host and had to try calling her internationally to get the keys! All worth it in time, though, because this little apartment was soooo cute!

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I could most definitely live here long term, and I could definitely see myself with a little apartment like this at some point in my life. It was just a little studio, but the futon bed was comfy and doubled as a couch, making the space seem relaxed and spacious. Plus the location and the view were not to be beat! Right on top of a main shopping street, like living on top of Strøget in Copenhagen!

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After settling in and taking quick naps and showers (dude, we were so tired already and the day had barely begun), we set off into the city. We walked down by the water, around the town, and through the streets. Every turn was beautiful. A picturesque little village on the edge of a gorgeous blue lake shadowed by a towering, comforting mountain range.

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Fun fact: apparently, the above view, including the canals and a building from the twelfth century, is one of the most photographed scenes in all of France. It was also the inspiration behind this trip! Too bad it was under construction… haha.

We indulged in some gelato, but it was really hard to stay moving in the heat. It was seriously so hot. We made plans for the next day and eventually made our way back to the apartment for break number two.

That nap was hard to wake up from. Haha. But I managed, and we hit the town for some dinner. It was a sort of salmon carbonara, and it was delicious.

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Bedtime came eventually, but we planned for an early start and a busy list of activities for our only full day in Annecy.

I woke up a couple hours before our alarm went off and took in the sights and sounds of our street while Katie somehow managed to snore through the street cleaners and garbage trucks. I guess she was tired or something!

First thing on the agenda was breakfast. We lucked out with a little bakery down the street, where this adorable Frenchman in a pastry chef hat asked us about Seattle and made sure we got a fourth pastry for free after I greedily ordered two for myself. No shame. No regrets.

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Next, we set off in search for a hat so that I could try not dying for the rest of this sunny month-long trip ahead of me. My forehead, nose, ears, and shoulders are still quite, quite red.

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Next stop: peddle boats.

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It was already so hot and sunny by 11am, and Katie took a dip in the water almost immediately. I needed a little more convincing, but I eventually made it in, and the water felt oh-so good against the hot sun. The lake was huge, but we could somehow still touch bottom our in the middle of it! Quite fun and quirky.

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We had planned to push on, but it was just too exhausting. Another gelato and a nap were in order.

Hmmm… okay. Writing this now, I am a bit confused because I don’t think we took thaaaat many naps… but maybe we did…

Either we took a nap before going to lunch, or we swam, lunched, gelatoed, and then napped. Hard to say. Lunch was yummy too, though! Wine, salad, and a crepe with confiture (jam).

Somewhere along the way in this blur and after a nap, we rented bikes and took the trail along the lake. What an experience! An adorable, shy young Frenchman set us up with some Dutch style bikes (my fav), and we were off! I tell you, I’m not sure I could ever get tired of this view!

Katie and I took turns pointing out pretty lake views and houses along the way, but this one takes the cake for me:

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Imagine going home every day to your own mini castle on the lake…. We pondered what the price comparison might be for living in a house over here compared to living on Lake Union or something, because seriously…. Is it really a question which one would be better??

Eventually, Katie became worried about making it back to the bike shop before it closed, so I reluctantly let us turn around… We were so close to the end of the trail! Next time, I suppose..

I really wanted to jump in the water now that I was still as hot as ever (; and soaking in sweat. We couldn’t find anybody else swimming though, and we didn’t want to make a scene if that wasn’t something you’re supposed to do, so I dipped in my feet and soaked my shirt before continuing on.

Commence showers and naps. It’s hard to keep going all day in that heat without a break! I swear! We did manage to stop by our pastry shop to get some breakfast for the next day, though. I got a mini croissant, a maxi pain au chocolat, and something called a truffe, which seemed to be several truffles on top of a shortbread cookie base and was absolutely mouth wateringly delicious.

I was set to leave the next morning at 5:45am in order to catch a bus back to the Geneva airport, so I knew dinner would be my last shebang in Annecy. We were boring and went to the same restaurant as the first night, but it was so good the first time around! Why fix what isn’t broken?

Katie got the muscles (so. good. so. garlicky.), and I got the beef bolognaise. Plus beer and wine, of course.

It was a bittersweet ending to a wonderful trip, but it was pretty exciting to get back to our little cozy apartment.

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I wrote most of this on my flight over to Naples, where I am currently missing the lake and hiding from the heat. More on that, later.

Thanks for letting me join, Katie! I couldn’t have asked for a better cousin getaway! Until next time…

 

Venlig hilsen/ au revoir,

Lizzy-wa

June 18, 2017 – Burning up in Switzerland

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Currently on a bus with Cousin Katie on our way to Annecy, France! I am a little hungry, must admit. Could really go for a chocolate croissant right now.

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Geneva has been lovely for the last 26 hours or so. When I first arrived yesterday, I met up with the cousins and their gang before we set out for the day around 1pm.

First stop was a street fair slash flea market type dealio a couple blocks away, where we listened to some (surprisingly entertaining) French rapping and got some street food. Was de-lish.

Then, we split up so that two of the group headed out to explore downtown while friend Scott, the twins and I hit up the beach.

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It was a man-made peninsula beach, made mostly of concrete, but it was absolutely gorgeous to just sit out by the water of Lake Geneva where the wind took the edge off the blazing heat. There was also a baby and mama swan swimming around!

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Katie tried (she was so close) to swim out to a floating rock wall structure, but I think she got nervous because of the crowd of fourteen year old boys. Tehehe. She swam out to a buoy near the rock, chilled a bit, and then swam back. Twice. Bahahaha.

After a while of resting and enjoying the breeze, we decided to check out the other side of the peninsula, where the wind wasn’t as strong and it seemed like more of an organized beach playground rather than a normal beach. There was a sectioned-off wading area, a little island for humans and birds alike (evidenced by the vast amount of bird poop), a diving platform, and a ZIPLINE.

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I think it goes without saying that I did not partake in the diving, but I am a huge fan of ziplines! Especially when the supervising lifeguards are attractive French-speaking Swissman!

The zipline was a little strange in that each person had to carry their own zipline handle, which consisted of a heavy metal bar, a pulley wheel, and some buoys. We had to carry the handle up to the lifeguard, get all set up, then zip line down into the water. Even though I hit water much before the end of the swimming area, I was instructed not to let go and to ‘swim with my legs’ until I reached the wall so I could detach the handle and walk back with it. I really liked swimming with my legs while hanging there. Tehe.

It was pretty awkward trying to swim while holding the handle, so I took in some water. Really need more practice swimming!

I also got quite sunburned and pretty scraped up trying to get on and off the concrete beach from the water. What a mess.

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On my second time around on the zipline, I decided I would try inverting so I could fly down upside down in a little ball. I had done it before on a zipline, and I had seen another boy do it before, so I didn’t really think much of it. I got to the lifeguard, set up my zipline, then asked, ‘Can I go upside down?’ To this, Mr. Hello Swiss Lifeguard said, ‘Yes of course. You can do whatever you want.’ Aye-aye, captain.

So off I go! One big kick… wait. That didn’t work. Gaining speed, so I tried swinging my legs backward first to gain some momentum and…. Failed again. Quite dramatically and embarrassingly. Oh, and all of this is on video.

I got a good laugh out of it, though. Tehehehehe. We ended up staying out on the beach for around five hours or something crazy. No wonder at the sunburn.

Cousins and I headed back early to shower up, and I promptly knocked out. It was a real struggle waking up to go to dinner with the gang. But I managed!

The only thing we weren’t planning for was that it seems Geneva closes down sometime before 8pm. On a Saturday.

We walked and wandered, and finally we settled on one of two restaurants still open. The rest of the city was a ghost town already.

Luckily, the food was good (I had pizza) and the wine was sweet. We had an adorable waitor who tried to photo-bomb some of my pictures. The bill was steep, but I guess it was actually pretty standard for Switzerland.

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Lastly, we headed to a bar to get a ‘beer tower,’ from which I took a single sip from Katie’s mug. No shame. No shame.

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It was a very interesting day all around. Geneva was nothing like I expected. I felt it had a very similar vibe to Milan, and it like I was in Italy more often than in France or Switzerland.

Just before bed, I video-called my sister and was able to watch Brady walk into his graduation from the other side of the ocean! Very proud of him and feel pretty stupid that I wasn’t there. I’m sure he still had a great day, despite being rained on during the ceremony tehe.

This morning, I woke up and half the group was gone on there way back to the States. It was just Scott, Katie, and me left over. First thing, we went in search of some crepes for breakfast. We ran into some trouble though, because it turns out Geneva does not really open up shop on Sundays… I guess it’s just one of those places that still values breaks and family time or something… psh.

We did manage to find a Starbucks that was open for coffee (ha!), and of course we finally found breakfast at the restaurant next to our dinner place from the night before. This little square must contain the only two tourist restaurants in the whole city. Croissants and fresh orange juice were delicious, though.

Then we decided to just go walking around the water, in search for some botanical gardens. Me oh my were we pleasantly surprised.

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I am always surprised and satisfied by botanical gardens. They are so lovely and whimsical, and no two views are the same. We got some pretty shots of the lake, and the greenhouses were exotic and fascinating.

Ran back to the train station just in time to get our bags and split off from Scott (he was taking a day trip to another small Swiss town), and here we are! Geneva treated me well, all in all. Let’s see what Annecy has to offer…

Also! Happy Father’s Day, Daddio!!!

 

Venlig hilsen/ au revoir,

Lizzy-wa

June 17, 2017 – Touchdown in Londontown

7:22am and I’m on the underground  (which happens to actually be above ground at the moment) on my way to Heathrow Airport, where I’ll catch a flight to Geneva, Switzerland to meet up with the cousins. Looking forward to having some company.

I couldn’t help but glance at this guy cut off in the picture because he is sitting directly across from me with his legs sprawled open, and rather suspiciously, the crotch of his filthy grey sweatpants seems to have been hastily stitched up Frankenstein style with bright blue thread. In my opinion, I think this dude needs new pants. Hope you enjoyed that mental image.

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Also, I am on the Picadilly line, which is arguably my favorite line, and I got on at Hammersmith station. Not sure you can possibly get any more British sounding than that, which is why I love it. Bahahah… the train conductor: “Alright now… I’m going give you a break from hearing my voice now… you shouldn’t hear from me unless you need to… Well… alright. Heathrow…”

I gotta say. I am pretty pumped about this airport. According to friend Shelby, it is airport heaven. She literally said she wished she could have spent more time there. In the airport.

Okay. Let’s go back to where we left off. I had just touched down in London, was running on as close to empty as I have ever been (mentally, physically, emotionally), and I had been awake for approximately 40 hours. My plan for London all along was to try to just get as much rest as possible before continuing with my trip, since the first time I dealt with Europe jetlag, I slept for 17 hours my first night, and last year I slept for 19.

*Spoiler alert* I did not get close to sleep in the teen hours.

I also had purchased ‘groundling’ tickets to two shows at Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. Groundling tickets are only five pounds and you don’t get a seat. Standing on the ground in front of the stage, only. Hence the name. The shows were Twelfth Night at 2pm, and Tristan and Yseult at 7:30. The thing is, my head was swimming. I made it to my hostel easy enough by about 11:30, but I couldn’t check in (or get as bed, which I so desired) until 2, when I was due to be at my first show. It was quite a dilemma figuring out if I should or would be physically able to make it to both shows, and I consulted anyone and everyone I thought might be awake at 5am to get input on which show I should sleep through if I skipped one. Unfortunately, nobody was awake or online, so I had to make the decision myself. I decided to attend the 2pm show so that I would not have to deal with getting back in the dark and so that I could *potentially* get a long, uninterrupted night of sleep rather than trying to rouse myself from a nap to go outside again in a few hours.

This all may have been a bad plan.

I still had an hour or so to kill, and I spent most of this time debating bribing the hostel staff into giving me an early bed. I needed to order food to get change for the locker, so I ordered a salad and a hot chocolate, which I thought would calm me down and lift my spirits.

Wrong! Ohmygod that hot “chocolate” was without a doubt the number one most terribly disappointing beverage I have ever purchased. I paid about four dollars for a cup of what was most likely cheap hot chocolate powder mixed with water. No whipped cream and no show. As the waitress gave me the mug, I’m sure my face said, “You’re joking, right?”

But she was! She was joking in that I had not even tasted the “chocolate” yet, so had no idea just how ripped off I had really been. Not only was this an ugly, sad looking excuse for expensive hot chocolate, but they probably put about a fifth of the amount of chocolate the recipe requires. It was essentially chalky brown-ish water. What a great prank.

It also took them about half an hour to give me my tiny salad. It was alright, I guess, but not worth five pounds. Behold:

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So that was disappointing. I ate what I could and drank very little and was off to the Globe. The view was nice from my hostel’s street, though:

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A quick jaunt across town, and I arrived at the Globe:

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It was getting hot out, and I did not plan for the shade when choosing my standing location. Throughout the show, in fact, it was a kind of game between myself and those around me to hide from the hot light and crowd in the bits of shade that moved with the sun.

The show, however, was wonderful. I wish in had been more awake and less in fear of getting sunburned, because I didn’t fully follow the story at all times, but that is quite common with Shakespeare, anyway.

I have started to get more interested in Shakespeare now that I have seen some shows live and read about the process of a theater troupe preparing a performance of Hamlet. The history is so fascinating to me. Shakespeare is really an art form separate from the rest of theater. His plays have been around for so long, and are so well known, and are played by so many, many different groups all around the world so many times a year. How could people possibly still be interested in watching them? In acting in them? In directing them? Don’t they get bored???

But that’s just it. Putting on a Shakespeare production has turned into a game of not getting bored. The directors and actors morph the scripts into shows so wildly different from each other and from the original style. I never know what to expect, now, going into a Shakespeare play. I think it really is the only way to enjoy it. Reading the plays does not do them justice.

For the Twelfth Night, the cast began with a dance number. ‘Okay….’ I thought. Then, a big, beautiful black man in drag, with a floor-length, deep-cut, glittering gown, a full beard, and an even fuller diva wig, stepped onto the stage. She was quite mesmerizing, with a deep, ringing voice.

I can’t remember how they transitioned into it, but next thing I knew, the cast was dancing around and singing, ‘We are family… I got all my sisters with me…’ Half the cast was in sailing uniforms and the other half was in disco attire.

It was immensely interesting and seriously entertaining. The performance was funny, dramatic, and showy. My favorite characters were the drag queen (narrator maybe?) and Malvolio, this little man played by a woman. She was sooooo funny and committed to her character. I had to look away sometimes, and other times I couldn’t. So talented.

Overall, show 10/10, tiredness and blazing sun aside. I hung out a little after that, went grocery shopping for dinner/ breakfast, chatted with some family and friends online and then went to bed around 8pm.

Didn’t sleep super well, unfortunately. I went through three phases of restless dozing/sleep that probably lasted about an hour or so, interspersed with texting and counting sheep. Was too hot to get comfortable, and people kept coming in and out of the room. Geneva bed don’t let me down.

I got up a little ahead of schedule and was able to enjoy breakfast outside before getting on the train.

Didn’t get to spend much time in the airport, Shelby, but it was definitely nicer than Gatwick and Luton! Later I will be flying into Stansted, so by the end of this trip, I will be able to compare all four major London airports.

On the plane, with a real window. I’m flying Swiss, and it is quite nice. The seats are sleek, relatively cozy, and have a lot of room around them. Maybe I’ll get another nap in. Next stop, Switzerland!

 

 

Crap. I think I left my watch in the hostel. ):

 

 

I’m liking Swiss more and more. That was one of the fastest, smoothest takeoffs I’ve ever experienced, and then they gave everybody croissants. Strangely, the croissant tastes like a pretzel…

The plane itself is so cute and bubbly, too. Not sure how to describe it. Like a cartoon plane or something. Plus everybody speaks French and has French accents.

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Something that always amazes me on flights is how much land is farmland. It doesn’t seem that way from the ground.

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Also, our plane keeps flying by other planes that are flying, and it looks so cool, you have no idea. That’s one of my favorite things to see in the air.

Eeeep. Another of my favorites are the Alps. So beautiful.

Touchdown was a little more dramatic than takeoff, but I’m in Switzerland! Talk soon!

 

Venlig hilsen/ cheers/ au revoir,

 

Lizzy-wa

June 15, 2017 Part 2 – Midair

Okay. It’s been a couple hours and my phone still hasn’t adjusted to the time zone change. It’s pretty confusing but there’s not much I can do about it, and it’s probably not worth it since I’m about to go through five more time zones.

Layover was fine. I watched a bit of a show I liked, but the connection kept dropping so I wasn’t able to finish it. I reeeeally felt like I could sleep well if I just had a bed to lay down in. Unfortunately, Calgary is not that type of airport. I eventually woke up a bit again and started craving soup. I went on a hunt and found, to my delight, a Tim Horton’s! What I think is so funny is that when my friend Krisitna (to join me in Germany later) and I went to Vancouver over Christmas break, our hostel receptionist raved about Tim Horton’s and told us we just had to go there. It was a Canadian gem. The best coffee in town. The thing is, we couldn’t find one for the life of us! We kept searching but to no avail. (Not sure what we were doing, because when Jackson and I went in March, we walked the same streets and there was literally a Tim Horton’s on every block. ) when Krisitna and I finally found one on our last day, we walked in, saw what appeared to be a glorified McDonald’s, and walked out disappointed without ordering anything. My dad made sure that we tried it when we went skiing in Canada, though, and it was great! I would describe it as a cross between McDonald’s and Panera. And I like both of them, so there’s really no faulting Timmy’s.

Tim came through again by providing me with some delicious chicken noodle soup and bread. My bread was ripped somehow(?), so I only got ¾ of the actual bread amount I was supposed to get, and I burnt my tongue on the soup because I was too excited, but overall 9/10 experience.

I did take a bit too long savoring my soup, I’ll admit. I had been hanging out in the terminal I arrived in because it was cute, decorated, lively, and had charging stations. But once I started toward my actual gate about 35 minutes before the plane was scheduled to leave, I realized I was in Terminal A and needed to be in Terminal D, which requires multiple moving sidewalks and a shuttle to get between. Then a lady told me I would also have to throw away the rest of my soup and go through security because it was an international flight. Yikes! Imagine my worry. As I speed walked, I just imagined having to call my mom and tell her I missed my plane to London and was stuck in the middle of Canada after all this fuss. Yeah. Not fun.

But I made it! And I got to keep my soul! There was no security and all those years of fast walking pay off in times like this.

I’m on the flight. I only have one person next to me because the set of three seats is in the middle and there are only pairs of seats on the sides because it’s a smaller plane. Plus I have a glorious window! I did have to pay for this seat, but I have a nice view of the wing and everything around and below it.

Sorry the first couple blogs are probably going up all at the same time. I forgot to upload the first one during my layover.

We’re going through the safety stuff and should be taking off soon. I’ll check in later.

Losing track of time between naps. I also can’t remember how long the flight is supposed to last. I think we’ve been in the air for almost four hours now. They have just now come around for the first time with the drink cart which I think is pretty ridiculous. Also only first class got blankets and nobody got pillows  (unlike Lufthansa where everybody gets both) and there is no free food. I think they came around with pretzels but I was trying to sleep.

Anyway. The sky has been frozen in a sunrise for quite a while. It’s hard to tell from this picture, but the clouds are all red on top:

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I thought we were flying over some sort of desert at first.

Okay. Time to enjoy my tea.

The tea hit the spot. Forgot to tell you before that on my first flight, I was scared of being charged for a drink, so I just asked for hot water. It’s not something people usually ask for, so I’ve found that servers always try to supplement it. ‘Do you want some lemon with that? Some sugar? Some honey?’ To my ears, I hear, ‘Oh you poor thing. Warm water is weird. Let me just give you some makeshift free tea.’

So on my first flight, the flight attendant offered lemon with my water. I didn’t think and just dumped the whole packet of powdered lemon in without any sugar. It was horribly sour and made me have to pee so bad!

So this time around, I’m glad I splurged for the (what I now know has always been) free tea.

I think I maybe got an hour long nap in? It’s 12:15am Seattle time, so I think that means I have two more hours on the flight. Not sure if I will be able to sleep for more of it. Especially because I think the tea is black tea, which has a lot of caffeine in it.

Oh… but they are coming around again and I really want more…. Oh well. Hopefully I will be able to sleep *tonight*.

Cool! We are arriving an hour ahead of schedule???? Too bad I’m staying in a hostel instead of an airbnb so the odds of me getting a bed early are pretty low. We’re scheduled to pull into the gate around 9am London time, and I have a show to see at the Shakespeare Globe at 2pm. Not sure what I’ll do between now and then. Adventures, I guess.

Oh, and the second tea hit the spot, too. (:

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Touch down in London. Time to do some stuff. Byeeeee.

 

Venlig hilsen/ best regards,

Lizzy-wa

June 15, 2017 – Where am I / My third annual Europe Adventure

So.

 

Where to start.

 

…….

 

Well, I guess the easiest thing would be to start with where I’m at physically right now.

I’m exhausted. I’m hungry. I just hit my finger on something, so that’s bleeding now.

I can’t decide if I should use a bandaid on it because it’s on one of those awkward places on the knuckle of my ring finger where the finger meets the hand. Not conducive to bandaiding.

On the other hand (as in, on my right side), I have a wall. Some of you dear readers (Mom and… Mom) may remember me bragging about choosing seats on these Westjet flights and getting a steal by choosing window seats that were free (normally it costs a bit to choose a seat in advance) because the seats were labeled ‘less desirable.’

‘Ha!’ I said. A less desirable window seat? What could that possibly mean? Less legroom? Fine by me. My legs don’t take up much space.

And to that, Westjet said, ‘Ha!

‘We will give you your legroom you small human, but that window you so desire? Well… you’ll see.’

And now I do see. Or rather, I don’t. Because my window is not where it should be. In fact, my window is really more like a wall. And the truth is that the person in front of me kind of just has two windows…. So I guess she is the real winner.

Turns out she also has a really nice magenta manicure.

If I lean all the way forward in my seat and lean my forehead against her seat back, I can look straight out half of the window. If I stay back in my seat, I can see a slanted, blurry view out the bottom left corner of the window.

 

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This, of course, is all assuming Miss Lucky Two Windows decides to leave her second window open for me.

We’ll see.

 

So you are probably wondering why I am so exhausted if you haven’t talked to me in the last couple days (or weeks actually.)

Tbh I have been so dead the last few weeks. Scrambling to finish up a senior project that my team was way way way behind on (I fixed it. It was cool. Don’t worry.) Juggling job interviews and desperately hoping one company would offer me the job and salary of my dreams and the other one would go a different direction so I wouldn’t have to make any decisions. (I hate making decisions. And this situation didn’t exactly turn out how I’d been hoping, because I did have to make a decision in the end. Only time will tell if it was the right one.) Then on top of that, I got sick, and I couldn’t find a long enough break to catch up on sleep, and I still had this whirlwind trip to finish planning along with a million other things that have just made my life a hot mess.

 

….

 

Because of all these little things, it is now 1pm on Thursday, and the last time I woke up from sleep was 9am on Wednesday.

So yes. I am tired. But I am somehow not sleepy. It sucks.

Amidst all of this exhaustion, I have not been able to get truly excited about this trip. Not yet, anyway.

I get glimpses of the excitement I’m used to when I’m looking at Airbnbs or pictures of future destinations, but then it gets washed away again in exhaustion.

Here’s hoping I will be able to sleep on the plane and wake up a new person in London tomorrow. I managed to fight exhaustion with excitement on my September Adventure of 2016, and I really have my fingers crossed that the same will happen this time around.

 

—-

 

Okay. So now you know a little about where I’m at. (Oh. I guess I didn’t tell you I’m in Canada. Because I decided on this trip about 2.5 weeks ago, I had to fly out of Vancouver instead of Seattle, into London instead of Copenhagen, and on a budget Canadian airline instead of my favorite German Lufthansa.) I got on a bus in Chinatown at 6:30 this morning, and now I’m taking off to a layover in Calgary.

After that, I’ll have one month of travel in which I will attempt to consume the following countries in sort of this order:

 

UK

Switzerland

France

Italy

Denmark

Netherlands

Germany

Spain

Portugal.

 

Wish me luck.

 

I tried to plan his trip differently from my last. I wanted to force myself to spend more time in one place before taking off for the next. I also thought this would be a solo trip again.

But yeah. None of that happened. I just love planning. Almost as much as the trip itself. It makes me feel like I’m there already.

~Just took off. Flying through endless and terrifying whiteness right now.~

Anyway. I started planning and ran into the same problem I had last time around: so many places, so little time. I have an extra week compared to September, but it really doesn’t make much of a difference when there are thousands of places I’d like to go. So I will be doing the same crazy stop-and-go travel. I liked it though. And I think it will be good for me right now. Keeps me on my toes. Keeps me moving. Keeps me absorbing and exploring and experiencing. And eating, hopefully. (:

As far as the solo part of this trip goes, well… it doesn’t really go anywhere at all! I have so many friends in Europe right now that I’m only going to be alone for my first day on land, and then maybe again for a couple of days in Naples. I think that will be good for me, too. Time to reconnect with friends and life in general now that this thing I’ve been doing for the last seventeen years called School is actually finished.

~Good news: we’ve surfaced above the clouds and the sky is beautiful and blue up above them. No more scary. I did just get shunned by my row-mates for supposedly ‘blinding them’ with my phone screen, but oh well.~

Also, I just found out this flight is only an hour long. Not much time to sleep! I’ll have to do that on the way to London, I guess.

I think I’m done writing for now. I’ll check in soon with more pictures and/ or thoughts.

Oh, I did find this wonderful sculpture in the Vancouver airport:

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Okay. Talk soon.

Venlig hilsen/ best regards,

Lizzy-wa

September 14, 2016 – P.S. I Love You

I have never seen this movie, but that did not stop me from exploring the beautiful land where it was filmed! Also Brave Heart and Excalibur, which I have also not seen. Xi almost missed the bus, but we were dandy after that. The first stop on our day trip around Ireland’s countryside was Kilkenny, a small medieval town with a round tower built in the NINTH CENTURY (1200 years ago), which we climbed of course!

 

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Xi was getting dizzy from the height and the crazy climbing. It was essentially a series of ladders stacked on top of each other, and every time someone was coming down while someone else was going up, a lot of squeezing and cuddling with strangers occurred.

 

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Mr. Robot Man was unphased by both the height and the scenery. He is always in the same state of bliss and general happiness. It’s what I love about the guy (besides his awesome dance moves).

 

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We had two hours to explore, and explore we did! There was beer everywhere, but as our tour guide Anthony explained, it’s never too early to drink in Ireland. Even 10am is acceptable. (Xi and I stuck to water and cookies.)

 

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A pretty unnamed castle

 

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Canals galore

 

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This house is centuries old and was burned down some time ago because of some crazy feud or violation that occurred on the part of the owner. I can’t remember the story, but the guy was very powerful and rich while he lived, so they have left his land and the remains of his estate untouched ever since!

 

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This is the Wicklow Gap, where all of those movies were filmed. I think they were probably filmed in better weather, because it was cloudy and none of the flowers were in bloom, but it was nice nonetheless!

 

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Obligatory action shot

 

Next stop was Glendalough, or Land of Two Lakes in Gaelic. I totally forgot the Irish and Scottish had their own languages! I think Gaelic is more commonly used in Ireland than Scot is used in Scotland though, probably because the Scottish are partnered with England. All the street signs were in both Gaelic and English. It was pretty cool!

Anyway. Glendalough is an ooooold monastic village from the sixth century, I believe. A bunch of Christian monks lived here and tried to convert the Pagans (multiple gods) of Ireland into Christians. I guess it worked! The beautiful buildings probably had something to do with it:

 

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I am 98% sure this is Rapunzel’s actual tower. The only door was several meters up (either because the ground has settled that much or because the monks used a ladder to enter and pull the ladder in afterwards to keep out unwanted guests). Perfect need for some long hair to climb to the tallest windows way up at the top!

 

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This cool window used to be filled with stained glass. Now it looks very post-apocalyptic and dramatic.

 

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The main chapel

 

After exploring the village and cemetery, we went on a hike to see the two lakes. It was gorgeous, and my sneakers got soaked in mud and muck.

 

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Xi was trying to be cool by walking on this log, but she slipped and fell right at the end! I even got it on video.

 

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This place was seriously out of a fairytale.

 

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Mr. Robot Man quite enjoyed the shamrocks and clovers, if I do say so myself.

 

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Sheeeeeeep.

 

We kind of had to run back, because the tour bus was leaving at 5:00, and we were on the other side of the valley with twenty minutes left. We were told the walk took fifteen minutes, so we should plan out fifteen minutes to walk back to the bus. Easy right? What we didn’t realize was that he meant fifteen minutes to the first lake, and we had walked all the way to the second! I had just purchased a burger when we realized this, and since no hot food was allowed on the bus, we had to fast walk/ sprint all the way back while I simultaneously stuffed my face. I had ketchup everywhere, and we were soooo sweaty once we got back on the bus. Frank, our adorable Irish grandpa of a driver, started driving away when he saw us sprinting to the bus just to mess with us. We sat down at exactly five o’clock. Phew!

 

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We slept most of the way back, but the countryside was beautiful every time I managed to open my eyes. Most places have flat, boring expanses of farmland, but in Ireland, the plots are all on top of rolling hills, and each plot is surrounded by little bushes. Adorable.

 

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We got back to the city and explored even more. I think this is Trinity College?

 

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A church/ cathedral whose name I cannot remember

 

Since everything was closed by this time, we ended up sitting in a park in the rain and watching a bunch of puppies play together. Gah. I miss Xi. She forced me to relax every once in a while.

We were supposed to meet up with Davide and go drinking (actual Irish whiskey!), but when I put my stuff away in the hostel, I came back downstairs and Xi was practically asleep in my hostel lounge. The three of us ended up just hanging out and chatting about life until 11:30 or so. It was great. I really miss them! I wish I had more time to spend with all the people I meet, but that one of the pains of travel!

Once they left, I did my laundry, went to bed, woke up, ate early breakfast, almost missed my bus and had to chase it down, and forgot my rain jacket in my room after all of that. *sigh.

Until next time,

Venlig hilsen/ Best regards,

Lizzy-wa

P.S.: I love you. Whoever you are. (;