Shit happens, as does shenanigans (Prague part 1)

FUCK, FUCK!


I hurriedly unpacked and repacked my bags, but my camera was not to be found. Running from the peace of the Charles bride at 5 in the morning I dashed back to the nearest taxi and caught a ride back to the bus station where I had arrived into Prague, and originally repacked my bag. I knew I had put my camera down beside me, but it had gone. Swearing at myself, I through my bag over my shoulder, and headed back down the road the cab had come on. I had noticed a bar and being Prague they're open till the cold light of day. A shot, a beer, cigarette. A talk to Jack on facebook. A shot, a beer, cigarette. A talk with Dylan on facebook. It was not the lost of the camera that really annoyed me, but the loss of the memory card contained within. Out of all the photo's taken on the trip, some of my most favourite were of me and Szilvi at Mt. Ślęża gone. I have learnt not to let thing like this let me get down for long, but I wasn't a great way to start the morning.


Still annoyed but feeling a little better I headed back to admire the Charles bridge while it was still
quite and the masses had not yet awoke. Statues of stone and polished bronze lining both sides and
great decorative arches at either end looming proud. From the centre of this cobbled thoroughfare, I gazed out towards the photogenic city, the castle and Eiffel tower as I would discover it's known as. The grey light coming up killing the last of the night. I made it to the other side to my hostel, talking for a while with the early risers before heading to my room to pass out. The sleep was blissful after the bus ride, the middle back seat offering little in the way of comfort, doubting that those on either would appreciate me resting my head on them as the journey went; and of course, the missing camera wasn't helping matter either.


When I woke in the early afternoon, I took a trip up to the Prague Eiffel tower, I learnt later that
the design was based of the original, which can be clearly seen, but top point also shares the same hight above sea level. However there is a little cheating involved using a hill to gain most of it's hight and the construction, considerably smaller sits on top. It does however have an unbeatable view of the photogenic city below. Red roofs but not Florrintesk, the spectacular castle and the river that winds under the Charles bridge, now heavily laden with tourists on this cold but sunny day.


When I had my fill, and snapped my memories from every angle, I descended the tower and too to the building adjacent. The child that lives inside all of us, or at least that should live, got a chance to play, in the labyrinth of mirrors. I am glad to say, it's still amusing to watch your body distort as if standing three feat tall, or head elongated and sticking out like a giraffe and belly buldging in the next, head swelling like a cartoon in the one after. Filled with childish laughs I wondered round the summit, and then caching the funicular down back to the base. I spent my evening socialising, and when I headed back to my room I discovered all my room mates were beautiful, American, and staring into there phones. With a beaming smile I knew I couldn't let the opportunity go past without the first thing me saying was, "well I lucked out here!"


The next day brought about adventure, and a little more knowledge of the place I was in. I was proud of myself of the half a dozen Czech words I had already picked up; after Poland I was starting to get used to the Slavic sounds, and it helps that 'I don't understand' is nearly the same in both. A walking tour I joined showcasing the brilliance of Prague, visited very impressive churches. One with the odd tale that goes along the lines of: It is good luck to place a leave jewels on the high altar, the statue of the Virgin Marry. One man 400 years ago stayed in the church one night, to steel the precious gifts. Legend says that when he touched them the statue moved and grabbed him by the wrist. Try as he might, he could not break her grip. Being discovered in the morning not being able to be pulled from his place, the authority performed the act that was the penalty for stealing in those times, by cutting of his hand. The hand and upper arm can still be seen today, rotted dangling from a chain and nail near the entrance. Creepy but, there's character.




On this walking tour I met two people that I greatly enjoyed the company of for the next few days. A Kiwi called Barney, and a Turk called Ari. Drinking with our guide after our tour, learning a little more of the language, history, and had a good time. From there Ari, Barney and I went exploring the city bursting at the seems with beauty, with a few shenanigans along the way. We set out to find the John Lennon wall but happened to stumble across these giant brass babies with imploding faces. A little drunk still we posed like rock stars, taking a whole range of embarrassing photos that ended up on facebook. I wouldn't of posted the photo of me popping the cheeky nut, but it ended up there so I'll live with the laugh.

Ari has a few classically embarrassing photos too... Barney however scored a champion shot when we got to 'Before I die...' wall. There were items others had written like skydiving or meeting One Direction, but on stood out in big red letters "Before I die, I want too FUCK BARNEY.” Obliging he left his e-mail address next to it with an arrow. By the ever evolving wall of John Lennon we sat, singing some of the greatest lyrics ever to be penned down. Good to say we all like what we do because based on that performance none of us are going to make it as cover singers. More beers followed, as did the town centre and souvenir shops. As Halloween approached masks hung in many stores, the pictures at the bottom may give you an indication of the great laughs we had.

Before I die.. Ari and I

Great taste Barney

Gold

Line up ladies

Shenanigans

Hitting the half-way point (Written in Prague)

Wow!!!
I can't believe I just pasted the half way mark on my travels around Europe! It has been and still is, a hell of an exiting, life changing, wonderful experience.
From the architecture of Italy to the history of Poland and sheer vibrancy of the Czech republic.
With so much still to look forward to, see, learn, and many more amassing people to meet. I would like to take a moment to thank everyone who has made this, such an incredible journey, the memories we have shared, the hospitality you have shown me, and the inspiration you have imparted on me!

Shout outs to everyone of the Rome family. I could not of asked for a better tone or company to start this adventure with! You really were wonderful in setting me off on the rite foot!
Much love to Alex, for being awesome and hosting my stay in Milan. Brother, it's been great to have and old friend to share a part of this journey with!
And to a Angel amongst many, thank you for everything!! Every moment has been wonderful, so much to say, but I'll be seeing you soon!

To everyone else along the road, many thanks and love! We've had some crazy times and some wonderful moments. Weather it was a few fleeting moments in a cafe conversation, or long nights partying, you make this adventure such a special thing!
And lastly to everyone back home, thank you for your best wishes, and I miss you! Some hopefully I may see soon. If I don't, thank you for the time we have shared back is Aus!

So as time speeds by at an incredible pace, and we all go our separate ways, I wish everyone all the best with love and adventure!

x

-Facebook post 1/11/2013

Oh there's Gnomes too (Wrocław part 1)

Something come in high and lows, we try to put a handle on these things though the most influential
ones come as surprises. I was looking forward to meeting with Szilvi again, and what was a few days became a week, what was not meant to be happened. For those that say not to fall in love travelling, it is sometimes wise advice. Though beautiful witty women will always intrigue, mix that with a sweet disposition and good chemistry it is a potent combination that might make it very difficult for me to walk away from.
We spent our evenings ice skating, or quiet drinks with Szilvi's work collogues, and walking around in the crisp night to the beautiful lit up buildings of Wrocław. I don't know what it is with the Hungarian eyes, but there is a wonderful opening quality that is so temping to fall into I admit I did a little. It was something neither of us intended, but involve emotions happened, so we resolved to embody a mind state, and knowing it would not last, but to have it for what it is for a while.


When Szilvi went to work in the day, I would procrastinate till I finally made head way on my blog. Wander round the city, throwing some hammers down on the concrete wonderland designs of the metropolitan area. There are a few art instillation that can be found, one project that spans city are the Wrocław gnomes that come up in all kinds locations, but I always kept my eyes open for these little fella's each one a laugh and photographed.


On the weekend we went to Mt Ślęża. It was peaceful to get out of the city. Autumn leaves covered the ground the bear trees against the clear blue sky wind rustling the twigs and branches. We wound our way up the amber flour covering the slippery rocks below. The sent of burning wood grow stronger as we reached the top, many fires were there to great us with warmth as we reached the pinnacle, where groups of people cooked there lunch over and open flame. An abbey standing in the clearing looking out across the the lands lying below. A tower could be climbed near off where we had our lunch, the wind grows strong as we took the exposed ladders up, but the cold was not to deter. The view absolutely spectacular, adrenalin rushing as wind threatened to throw any article of loose clothing down the hill. We made our way down and returned back into town.


It was that night I had decided on leaving Wrocław for a while. Holding each other till the last possible moment. Lingering on that kiss till the moment I had to board my bus.

The Rynek (Town center)

One of my favorite photos

A little bit of silly fun

 Gnomes...

A black page in history (Auschwitz)

The hell pit of mankind's history. It's not the sights of Auschwitz that are truly horrifying, it's more of the thought of, how can so many people can do so many evil
atrocities to so many other? Selecting a whole group, for segregation, extermination and torcher. The sights I was prepared for and I do not have a weak stomach either;
it was not staring at the piles of matted hair, of thousands shaved for felt production; it was not the thousands of possessions stacked up for sorting and redistribution
It was staring into the eyes of the photographs of the people, under harsh labour to death, gassed and killed, torched, poisoned, and used in twisted science experiments,
to amongst other abominable things, create infertility. The footage of a soviet soldier says so much of the deplorable conditions, people emaciated; there skin as if draped straight over there bones, heaped on top of each other in the sleeping bunks. Eyes gaunt and sunk, past the point of fear, no disappear, just nothing.
At a point it stops becoming disgusting, it stops being gruesome, it becomes numbing and the coping mechanism come in as cold numbers. How can you comprehend 1.1 millions people being told that these are the showers undress and stepped into this building, cyclone 2 filling the room of 800 Jews or other sub humans in Nazi eyes? How can you comprehend the inhumanity of those how took pleasure in directing these actions? Blackest pages of human existence animate in flashes; the fact of being there trying to fill the gaps, grappling for comprehension of something so hateful and immense. People taken from all part of Europe that could be touched, from Romania to the Netherlands carted as animals to Poland, and other similar camps across Europe.


It is a strange thing and unpleasant think to look in to the eyes of so many innocents, that have been killed and think, who was that? What kink of life did they lead?


I chose no to write this as a journal entry at first. What I wanted was a drink, and distractions. For the first time since arriving I had a hangover in the morning. Not from an excess of alcohol, but from the weight of the day before, still lingering in the thoughts of yesterday. I chose not to take any photo's, I will openly talk about my impressions of that place, but how do I say 'oh this is Auschwitz, over a million people were senselessly killed here?' I guess like that, but it's not something that can be, put into through away comments. It's a discussion or not really something that I would comment on. Through the many evils of history, this is the first I have recognised in a way that sank in so hard, though not a big part in Australian history, it is a big part of human history, what ever you beliefs, skin colour or background. You cannot look apon that place without sorrow, and think how we all feel, bleed and are similar in so many ways. How can this be done over our differences? And it's just one example.



I have seen the best in people, but this day was one that made me hand my head in shame of the some of history of the human race.

To be young and social (Cracaw)

Normally I take it as part of my exploring to find the best spots, but the first night in Cracow I went on my first and only organised pub crawl night. Wondering through the cobbled street to our first destination someone said to me “Hey, remember me?” I was honest and a little embraced that I didn't, the girl that said 'Hi' to me was Anna, she and Nadene who I had already met as well in Warsaw as well were travelling together. Fortunately I didn't offend them by my lack of memory, and over the next few day we became quite good friends. The first place was a generic night club, free shots from the crawl, and American pop music playing. Some one commented on my hard core vodka embracing approach, my answer was I'll slow down when I feel it, but I need to be drunk to dance to this shit! Turned out to be a good night all the same.

I met my room mates in the morning, the first I met was another Ozi chef, so we talked kitchens and shit, and the pranks we had played. We split to do our own things, before going for a walking tour in the afternoon. I was writing my journal and was going to head into town to post my cards, but I was feeling inspired to write a song, the song of many titles which I'm sure different people will read different things into.
The second was a German on his first travel, that we bumped into in that afternoon, so instead of the tour we when on a walk around the town instead. A complete contrast from the grey squares of Warsaw, the building in Cracow just have so much more life. (Cracow became part of the German general government under control of the Nazis in WW2, and did not get bombed)

I took a day to do the Jewish district walking tour. the WW2 stories do sit uneasily sometimes, every now and then you tent to talk normal things with the surrounding people to liven things up. One of the people I met was Lise, and it was nice to talk politics again which I guess is a rather boring conversation for most, but its one of my interest that I find hard to find company for. I had to pick up my washing that afternoon, its been along time since I've been that excited to have my washing done (and folded) for me. Later that night I bumping into Maddie my old room mate, great girl, and a lot of fun to chat to so we decided to meet for a drink the next night.

After Auschwitz, we met up for a drink with her friend, after a few dead locations, we decided to try one more before calling it a night. What we found was the lowest bar in Cracow, as in depth in the ground. Three flights down we saw the bar tenders, and they where drunker than we were! At this point I would say we were toasty, the tenders were near on hammered. There was an interesting incident with the change given, instead of the correct change, we received 50zl more than we paid. The money was given back to the tenders, so grateful we where thanked in free shots for the rest of the night. It was a lot of fun to have a catch up, and kababs were in order on the way home. That's not bad considering last time me and Maddie went out drinking, we sung Bohemian Rhapsody the way back.

  

Jewish cemetery

Words to live by (from the hostel)

A song with many titles (Written in Cracow)

A Song with many titles

Thinking back to the moment it starts
And where we will see each other again
Some things will remain in my heart,
and I did not wish to part, wondering why
I rolled the dice, from that spark ignites
As the days go by, beauty may wither to the sight
but only grows in the mind.
From the magic moment of the first kiss
To the tragic inevitable when I leave your lips
They may see the surface and judge from that
I did in fact, gave it time, there is no trap
Freedom, pleasure, in blue or grey weather
Alone and together, whoever you love
I wish they appreciate your embrace
Between the sex, lust and alcohol
I met a sober change, pain and the way you elevate
And though the scars of the past may be black
Your soul stays resilient, though the disgrace
Of your gifts raped, your heart torn
And grown back again. Sad and happy in
The subtlety of your smile, can we linger longer
Hold each other for a while? while love embodies us both
Your crazy, telling each other stories in a cryptic code
In the morning I must go, with the hope
Our paths may cross with the same spark along the road.
And if they don't, I'm prepared for that
No stranger to face the fact. Only a memory can be
Captured in a photograph.
As the train came and left, I wished you the best.
Blessed, with happy thoughts when I laid down to rest.

Blame the vodka (Warsaw)

I was planing on a quiet one, though I might catch up on some writing and my thoughts on Italy and the adventure of the first month...well you'll see

The Okie Doki is a wonderful social hostel, and it wasn't long before I started meeting people; actually I had even made friend with a few before I even walked in the door. Just inside the entrance you became greeted with the big boobed statue of a mermaid. After a few invitations, and the severe twisting of my rubber arm, I finely made that lie to myself as you do, I'm only going out for one drink...
Nek Minet... 4:30 am. I got back to the hostel, went to bed got back up later to go to the bathroom. Realised I didn't have my key on me, or any clothes for that matter (at all). So I found myself at 5:30 in the morning knocking on the door to my room completely naked; certainly is an interesting way to meet your room mate.


The next day went out, came home 6 am, all good. Next day, quite one... almost... Two of the girls I spent a lot of time talking to and I went out together to a nice restaurant, at 3am we came back; I started writing again. Getting my last tea at 4am, at that point I ran into my friend, as she was coming back in from a bad night out, so stayed up talking shit, absolute shit... great value, shit. Nek Mintet..6am!


..Tonight, tonight is the night, I get to sleep before 6! New hostel, though I swear to the staff at the Oki Dokie it meant nothing to me (We had build up quite a repor at this point). I wrote, watched The Untouchables, with no English subtitles, but with a little help from my new friend from Quabek, it was easy enough to follow. Struggled with writing some more until some Polish rugby players came in at 4am. NEK MINET! 6Am! Next night ...one drink.. that was a lie... pretty girls.. 6am... five days running.. fuck it. In my defence, I may not of seen much of Warsaw so far, but I have met a lot of Polish.


Not entirely true, we took a couple of free walking tours. One of the old communists buildings. I love the subtle Polish sense of humour, the old communist head of state, (the white house) is now the home of Ferrari Warsar. The other of the old town, which is still a lot reconstructed after 90% of Warsaw being flattened or uninhabitable after WW2. The tour conduced with traditional food and drink, bread with pork grease and pickled cucumber, and of course vodka; before coffee. My room-mates and I had our cultural Vodka tasting that nigh, we were meant to go out with a group, we don't know what happened with them so we improvised. In a little underground bar, by location and nature, with live local hip hop and good vibes. I've got to note my room-mates are Australian, I came to Poland thinking I would meet less Aussies, nope, including two from Newy (Newcastle). We stumbled home singing bohemian rhapsody, arms over shoulders kebab in hand and happy.




Before leaving I went to the uprising museum, it's horrifying, but important to see and recognise, such a black part of Poland's history (and the worlds), that has had so much of an effect on how Poland is today. During WW2, an estimated one fifth of the population was killed, six million people. Many in mass excursions deported to Auschwitz extermination camp. One quote that really struck me, was about a man telling his son, “he wont stop his from fighting in the uprising, or expect him not to be killed, just asking that he does not get killed in a stupid way”. It was in parts shocking and gruesome; the photos, videos, and testaments of the survivors really hit home the capacity of evil and also the strength in people. Along with empathy I felt humbled in the fortunate in which I have lived life, to not to have experienced war... I will leave my serious not there, and let you do your own research. What I can say is it was one of the most powerful days, so far.



To sum up Warsaw as a tourist in the best way I can: It is a place I spent long nights drinking and laughing, and one of the most sobering experiences of my life.

"Greetings from Jerusalem Avenue"

Socialist realism, the architecture of poetry

Well if socialist realism at least made some beautiful skate spots

I left a lot unsaid about my time in Warsaw. This is the palace of culture, tallest building in Warsaw. It also contains a cinema, by amazing coincidence I was lucky enough to be there during the international film festival. It was an absolute huge highlight to be there, and shared with friends.

Through Italy and beyond (Perspective). (Last day in Italy)

I have had many amassing conversations along the road, one of which that has stood was the last conversation I had before heading to Poland. I could and will talk about the amazing scenic beauty the architecture, the art and the people, but I wish to set an important context for this.

If I may recount a contained part of conversation "That we are born into this world with a blank canvas, and we can fill it however we choose. You can fill this canvas with religion, or follow the manual; go to school, go to university as the next logical step, then become an accountant, marage, mortgage and 2.4 kids. Or as some people do, leave a lot blank. If you find purpose in your life, you will find contentment in how you paint your canvas, though travelling does not necessarily give you purpose, it does give you perspective and be thankful of opportunities." And it is this that make one feel humbled and inspired, and urge to take each day with tenacity, but it all come with perspective.


Now to sum up Italy with far to few sentences to do it justice, though a novel would hardly justify walking around for a day. Starting with the first striking element
as soon as I got off the plain, the natural beauty, unique and increasable from the rolling fields of Tuscany, to the ultra clear water of Cinque Terre and then to
the rocky hills and outcrops passed by train that make you want to buy a motorbike and explore. Three and a half weeks is but a taste, and has only instilled me we the
want neigh on need to return.
Then of cause there is the beauty outside of nature but in the human constructs, putting in me in serious danger of using the word indescribable way too much. There is a feeling tough looking up at the gargantuan first century Colosseum, the dome of the Pantheon of Rome, and fersards of Venice that even passed the "Shit, I'm actually here" makes you stand in sheer amazement. Of cause you can go to the top of many of these large structures as well, that for me at least has got me rather addicted to heights. The detail, the scale, the history and age cannot sit under a blanket term, it's 'a thing' in its self, is the only way I might try; and make you want to take up history as a hobby.
For art.. see paragraph above.

The people, how can I comment after only three and a half weeks? I guess we all to a degree fix our stereo types, football is a religion no doubt, mums are loved, and a few glasses of wine are shared at loud tables at restaurants, also a love of a outdoor lifeless and food. Alas I do not think I am adequately qualified to comment. I can only say I had a wonderful time and deeply varied conversation with the people I met. Just the smell of the food makes me hard, and the taste is like sex, not just... good sex. Even the supermarkets hold an incredible variant of produce. The markets are a kaleidoscope, I am salivating with just the memory. Ok you may struggle to get anything other than Italian, but there's no messing around when it come to quality. Then there’s the price, and the dangerous quality of the Vino. wow, wow, wow!!


This is something I have struggled with, to put into words the first stage of my travels. I believe there is not perfect way to put it, or if there is, it is brief. All the small moments and the momentous sights demand more than a wide vocabulary. All I can say truly is there is a change in my perspective, that makes my smile wider to strangers and myself, and to further embrace the world for all it's beauty and floors. (I am by no means done with this subject, but will retake it with my conclusion of central Europe)





As a last note I would like to thank everyone that has been a part of this journey, I have truly seen some of the best in people and you have in large part made this what it is to me. Much love to you and the world

When the travel bug bites (Cinque Terre)

I got up at 6:15 in the morning, normally a very uncomfortable hour for me, I admit I was a bit bleary eyed and it took a shake from Alex to wake me; until I got outside and woken be the cool but not unpleasant fresh air... also it was at that point I remembered I had left my train tickets upstairs. Oh well, I try to maintain the attitude, if the worst that happens is you loose or forget a few things you're still doing alright, so have fun. Not long later I had made it to central station, purchased another ticket and was on my way. I could not of picked a more perfect day to go to Cinque Terre. I woke up from my short doze to see the sea gently lapping against the cost, rushing through the mountains by rail. By the time we had reached the station at 11am the weather had warmed up to a balmy beautiful high twenties.


No photo could justify that clear blue water that can be seen though for meters, with four inch fish darting between the rocks. A salty sweet smell hung in the giving me an urge to swim or explore; for practical reasons I chose to explore. At the peak of the nearest hill were the remains an old church that viewed out to all five of the towns; it was a steep walk up it but I made good time, to the top. The path was lined by small waxy leaved bush, with small hanging yellow and red fruit, skinks darted though the rocks, and the air was full with the smell of drying pine... yes the walk was ironically Australian, but the view was far from it.


Sitting down to take it all in watching the gigantic billowing pillow shaped clouds, I wished I could capture this moment and share it with you. No matter the detail I could try to describe it in, no video, photo, drawing, or document of emotions, can quite do justice to the place I was or feeling of travelling; I can only hope that I can spark a memory of peace and beauty, or the inspiration to get out there. This is the feeling that you know the the notorious travel bug has got you, and got got you good. I made my way down the mountain anxious not to waste a moment to explore.


From Monterosso I followed the trail to Vernazza, over and around the mountains, under the canopy of short trees, by tricking streams and bridges over deep gorges, where water pooled below. I tried maintain my pace, though this two hour hike that I did manage to achieve, but by the end, it took a lot of concentration, placing each foot carefully so as not to twist an ankle. I walked into the brightly coloured town of Vernazza as the urge for afternoon tea set in. Finding a small sandwich house, for something simple and delicious. I met a couple of Californians outside, that had set themselves the luxury I did not have of a couple of days, but I don't mind. I think it important to have that balance, of getting to know some places well, and wishing you had more time in others, a reminder time is fleeting so push yourself to be involved, and get exactly what you want out of life.


I hopped on a train back to Monterosso; though the afternoon had brought about a dramatic drop in temperature, the water was still extraordinarily pleasant. Though I didn't swim far, only out so I could see past a rock jutting out from the beach I could see the sunset come down over Vernazza.
I gave myself a caution of 25 minutes for the train as I usually would, needing to buy a ticket. I'm glad I did because, the single automatic ticket machine they had, had broken down so all tickets had to come through the single window of the ticket office. My train was due at 6:55, I got my ticket at 6:57, the train showed up one minute latter, lucky!


As the train returned along the track to Milan I watched the burnt red brown rays of light come down over the sea, the waxing crassest moon rising, as the stars start to gently appear. I was woken by my cabin mates when we got to Milan central.

I had arrived back in Milan earlier than I expected, so to kill some time, I headed to find a bar. It was a small place only two beers on tab, but the atmosphere was there that I wanted, I had the Italian beer and it was the most flavoursome one I've had yet. Being honest, the Italians have some superior vino, but the beer lacks character. The bar tenders and I talked beer for a while, giving me a sample of the Oktoberfest beer, the other on tap to compare. One tender was poring shots for other costumers, a mix of Jägermeister and white Sambuca, after the other customers had been served, they pored me the same on the house I was still a little early coming back to Alex's, but happened to bump into Franko and his giant German Shepard at the door, he who is very nice, and lives in the apartment building as Alex.

All in all, it was one of the best days I've had on my trip. I wish I could give you more than my pros and photos as they do not nearly do justice, but here is a tease of the spectacular place that is Cinque Terre!

Straight of the train

Vernazza

No caption needed

I wish I could give you the spectacular moon rise, this was just the entree

Day Trippers (Como and Verona)

We caught the train into Como. Off the train we started to walk up one of the nearby mountains in hope to see the lake from the top. Along the way we stopped in at a quirky cafe, with character. I would have to go back if I was staying for a few days. Despite the horrible shade of pink the walls were painted in, it was kind of cool, the waitress was particularly lovely. No two coffee cups were the same, and a goldfish bowl was balanced a top the cake fridge. After a brief lunch we headed on.


At he top of the mountain we still could not see the lake. We stopped to take a view, of the surrounding mountains, there peaks shrouded in clouds. I leaned down from the fence I was sitting on to take a grape from someone’s garden. It was the most exquisite grape, I've ever tasted; sweet and plump and delicious, bursting with flavour. No wonder why the wine is so dangerously drinkable here. When we got to the bottom, we headed straight for the lake. Shimmering in the light of the afternoon, the waster was calm as it winded it's way through the mountains. The flying club was situated where we were standing. I would have liked to take a boat plane across the lake and may return to do so if I can convince Kevin or Alex to do it with me. 120 euro for a 30 minute flight. I would of paid it on the spot but, no more flights were running that day. So I contented myself watching the ducks, playing in the water.


On the way home from Como, we had forgotten to validate our tickets so we got of at the nest station. The dodgiest, most graffiti ridden train station I have ever seen, kind of cool though. The validation machine at this train station was not working, in keeping with the general theme, so we thought we'ld try our luck on the next train, and try explain what happened if we got pulled up. We headed back home without any worries from the train officials.


In the morning of the next day we decided to go to Verona seeing as it was a shorter train trip then Cinque Terre. We found the art gallery Castelveccho (Old castle) and walked through its halls. Renting the audio guide that explained the artworks, I feel like a have learnt a little about art; one could defiantly see how the slant if an organ gave a bifocal dynamic perspective to the compersition. To be honest I can appreciate, the skill in the artist, but am no scholar. The moment I when oh Cool! Is when I saw, all the sward from over the eras; it's a guy thing, anything old, sharp and pointy does spark memories of imagination as a child.

Close by was the amphitheatre of Verona, which is still used for live performances, unfortunately none where running that day and the drizzle would of made for uncomfortable al fresco seating. We climbed the bell tower, only small, about 220 steps. At the top we were waiting for the 4:30 bells to chime, after hearing the bells from another town and 3 minutes over time, we assumed that this bell would not chime...wrongly. I was very loud and caught us completely unaware, one defining ring, but defiantly sneak, sneaky surprise. Before heading back, we saw the Duomo of Verona, understated on the outside, less on the inside but, an awesome building none the less. It did make we wonder with the dedication to faith in order to make these constructions, should I be less critical of church and it's believers? I will have to see.


Alex returned home, must off been a good and odd time in Amsterdam, I still don't know all that happened, but he came back with a smile on his face.
I was able to cook a three coarse dinner that night, the first I've done so far on this trip. Gnochi with scampi and squid, rustic beef tongue with pan roasted tomatoes, mushrooms and basil burre niosette. Dark chocolate panna cotta with sugar coated
fig and raspberries. After we tried to watch the first Pokemon movie for the third time, and for the third time we fell asleep before the end. It was a strange sleeping arrangement in Alex's apartment that worked on rotation between the couch/bed for two people and pillows on the floor for the third. What can I say it was comfy and travelling give you an instant sense of friendship. Kevin and I had said our good byes as he was to head of in the morning and me to head to Cinque Terre before he woke.

Maybe next time, still fun to watch one take off over the la

Sketchy place

Verona panoramas

 

Castelveccho

Friends old and new (Milan part 1)

I got off the train with that adrenalin kick that comes with a new city. I got to where Alex was living and found a cafe just a couple of doors down, so as I could use there Wifi. I sent Alex a message to let him know I was in town, a few pastries later he come down to meet me, it was good to see the face of an old friend. He gave me the grand tour of his apartment, a comfortable three and a half roomed living spot, and located in a awesome spot, right in the old town. Alex was playing 5V5 football that night, so I went down with him to watch him play.
Before departing from Perth airport, I bought two duty free bottles of Penfolds wine. The first was opened on the day of arriving in Rome the other I had been lugging around to give to Alex as a thank for his hospitality, a little taste of home. We went back past the shops, bought some food and I cooked dinner that night. We made an attempt to watch the first Pokemon movie, which become a repeating saga over the next few nights until we finally managed to stay up all the way to the end.


The next day I took a look around Milan. I had the mission to find the skate shop, seeing as my skateboard got stolen back when I was in Rome. When I got to the metro, I decided to make a detour instead and head to Milan's Duomo, it hits you like BAM! When you rise out of the subway, there is the huge Gothic complex in perfect white (Fifth largest cathedral in the world). The pigeons gather in the courtyard before it, to beg for scraps of bread, many sat perched when incentivised on the arms of photo-ready tourists. Inside, the Duomo I took the audioguide, which I am glad I did. It has had a funny old history, from it's conception to put Milan on the map and six centuries of construction, to the closing of its side entrances to stop farmers and carts using it as a thoroughfare to the market, to the gracious donation of a relic it now claims, one of the nails reputedly of Jesus' crucifix.



I found the skate shop and constructed myself a suitable replacement for my board. Then I felt my withdraws subside from there peak upon my fist push, as I glided back towards the metro line with the closest skate park freshly marked on my map. A medium sized bowl, well painted I dropped in and let that feeling flow though me. While talking to some of the skaters, someone said "Skateboarding is a fire inside some people, it may diminish but never go out" I rolled out to his after a little while. Then waiting by the front door I met Kevin. A friend of Alex's doing his second euro trip; over the next few days we traveled on day trips together.

In the morning Alex was headed to Amsterdam for the weekend, to experience the flavors the city might offer. Kevin and stayed at his apartment and used it as a base over the next few days. First day, we took to the streets of Milan, first back to the Duomo, this time taking the stairs all the way to the top to see the view, and to be able to see the magical spires up close. Then we jumped on another metro and walked around the enormous football stadium, though not surprising in a country where football is taken as seriously as religion (approx 85,000 capacity). Back home we worked on a our respective journals and had dinner, then bed.

Kevin rights an excellent blog of his travels; it's a great source of inspiration and a good laugh. If you want to give it a look the link sits below:http://haydendoestheworld.blogspot.com/2013/11/berlin-i-love-nightlife.html

Dinner with a great old mate

Just one of the many, many beautiful stain glass window in the Duomo

Madonnina statue that sit atop the main spire (108.5 meters)

Rolling around town

Bringing it out of the postcards (Venice Part 2)

It took a lot of time for me, for Venice to came out from the postcards. Maybe it was first impressions, maybe it was the intensity of the tourist culture and difficulty of finding locals interested in having a conversation. For all it's uniqueness and architectural beauty, my thoughts were for a long time; it was exactly as I expected.
Not to say I had poor expectations, that would be untrue; but it was my fellow travelers and other new friends such as Wie and Francis that personalized my experience in this city. Of cause I did all the tourists attractions like the Doge's palace, the walls and ceiling covered in a huge intricate gold mosaic; and the nearby tower with the panoramic view of the city below watching over the majesty of floating landscape. No Gondola ride though, as much as I would like to say that I done it, there are a lot of other things I would like to say I've done for 80 Euro.


I booked myself into a hotel as it was the only place available at the time, 50 euro. Wrestled with writers block and had rather a boring night to be honest, the positive in this might be, the vibrancy of my outgoing nature was twice as strong by the time the next night came around. In the morning I checked back in to my old hostel. Went for a wonder down to the edge of Venice, a peaceful change from from the bustle of the main street. There are some beautiful parks and a quietness there, where the locals live; and reminding myself of the understated refreshing value of crisp clean air. I took a ferry over to Lido the island of the famous Venice beach. It was an extraordinary grey dismal day, so the beach was left completely silent. I would like to come back in summer when everyone pack onto it, to be able to experience the loved lively feel, others have adored. I could see the beauty in it, but that beauty was also only in my imagination.


As I headed back across the water and watched the sun set over the city, a slight break in the grey black clouds, let the sun breach through, highlighting everything in perfect gold. On my way back to Piazzale Roma  I was a little lost, when I saw a group of foreigners with a Italian guide, walking with complete confidence, assuming they would be going (wrongly) to Piazzale Roma as I was. I dropped into the group, with complete confidence and started chatting, turns out neither new where we were going, so we had a good laugh! They were university students over on exchange. We found a bar and stood around talking. Two in particular I grew a fondness to; Londinions, Frances and Wei. Poetry fans, historians and writers. We stayed up talking till 5 (Frances crashed out a little before) in the morning, despite them having a tour of a library the next day at 9am. We got up at 7:30, it was a crisp blue morning, before the bustle of the new day had set in. We had to part ways at the Rialto, the market bridge. I walked past the fish markets of Rialto, with the distinct smell of freshness, though I looked only from a distance, probably all I could take, seeing as we had no kitchen in our hostel.


It became a habit of mine in the evenings to walk down to San Marco square, and let the marvelous music of the nearby band relax me. The played fast passed classics, to a melodious cover of 'What A Wonderful World'. Some days I may of spent an hour there, it would have been perfect to enjoy a glass of red but, gladly I looked at the menu of the nearby restaurant; starting at 12 Euro a glass plus service, plus 6 Euro band fee, it felt like something I could skip!

With a feeling of readiness I left Venice, to take on some new adventure, and to see a good friend. I took a grain of salt to love this place, but that would not deter me from making a return visit. Next stop Milan!

Another perfect sunset

Doge's palace, they weren't exactly strict in enforcing there no photo policy!

Enough said

Wei, Frances and I

Zombies in Venice (Venice Part 1)

I got in to Venice, around 8, and with a little difficulty and help from a stranger I found my hosted. It was situated about 20 mins via bus from old Venice. I checked in, then dumped my thing in the room, where I met my room mate, an American girl, from Connecticut. We shared a bottle of wine then headed into Venice. Neither of us new that the city goes dead after midnight. We wandered down by some dingy streets, and dodgy back alleys. If I ever write a short horror story, I will base it in Venice, with it's dead end alleys, empty, light flickering on and off, them going out one by one...Zombies in Venice!
We caught the ferry round the city and to Lido. Then back to the top, where we found a cafe open till 2. It was the only place open other than the casino; and I'm not prepared to loose any more money there; especially when I'm still sitting a little over budget. I feel bad that I didn't have a jacket with me I could offer my room mate, because it was startlingly cold. When we headed back she went to bed. I stayed up to watch the pale glow of light come up over the city in grey blue.


I found a few nice cafes the next day, and some really bad ones too. I've found it is very important to check the pricings of places, even for coffee, especially in Venice. I ended up paying 4 euro in one place for a espresso. In the scheme of things, not going to through out my whole budget, but a rip off none the less. When I found a cafe I liked, I wrote about a dozen post cards.
Then as the evening set in I found a bar by the water to keep writing, and enjoy a glass of cognac. There is a different approach to measures over here; none of this 30ml business. A glass half full in my opinion is never a bad thing. Around the corner I found somewhere astonishingly cheap for the location on the water and quality of food. I had cuttlefish and squid ink spaghetti and it was unreal, (plus bread and wine for 20 euro). Wonderfully friendly waiter, helped me with my Italian. Then caught the ferry back home.



Friday I checked out. with the intention of heading to Milan or Verona. Those plans fell through so I ended up with no accommodation for that night, the only place available was 150 euro, not happening. So I thought I might try my luck at the Irish pub, that was open till late, 1am! I had a few beers and watched the game. While I was having a cigarette, I had a very broken conversation (French) with a well drunk Frenchman. I found myself thinking, I need to learn how to swear In foreign languages, for those odd occasions you need to tell someone to fuck off! After going back inside, and watching some more of the football, the same French guy came in and tried to kiss me on the cheak...OK?..when he tried to slip me a toungy I nearly decked the guy.. awkward, but it got me beer and simpatico from the other patrons. When he got kicked out, I had a chat with a couple of Brits, until the doors shut and we were turfed out onto the street. I walked on for a I walk on for a bit, until I found a cafe, under renovation and tarpaulins over the tables. I was comfortable enough to do for a night. It's warm in Venice, to warm for mosquitoes, so I felt surprisingly well rested in the morning.

Zombies in Venice, It could work!

Taking it easy down by the water.

The Chef and the tourist (Florence and Pisa)

I fell in love with the Florinteen markets as soon as I walked in, the smells, variety and vibrancy of the place engulfed me. Fifteen types of mushrooms, countless cheeses, figs by the kilo, fish, meats, no end of exotic verity and quality around each corner. A beautiful bombardment of choices, I was like a kid in a candy shop. I had to really make and effort to try fight myself from buying five times the food I actually needed, like I need to fight myself from trying to depict it all in several paragraphs. I was extremely exited to be cooking again; also to try out a plan, to cut down on the cost of food by taking a small collection from a few others and cooking for three or four.

Pumpkin with identity issues (Florence Markets)

The first day in the kitchen I met a school teacher from Naples, that did not speak English, and I did not have the Italian vocabulary to understand him, but with a hand from google translator we were able to have a conversation. Over the next couple of days I went down to the river to watch the sunset. Three Romanians were drinking beer, and invited me over for a cup. They spoke as much English as I do Italian, slim to none. With a lot of sharaids and help from my phrase book, we had a grand old time. I came back to make a sketch of the sunset the next day.

A few of us met for drinks back at the hostel, then went to find a bar in Florence. Along the way we met two Irish girls, that had just arrived, my liver my liver gave a small cry for help when I heard the accent, before accepting its fate. Everywhere was closing as we got in, fortunately this time my fashion sense did not hinder entry, in another plain white Tee and jeans, I was told I was the most interesting, and least fashionable, which is still pretty good for the ego. After a couple of closing pubs we added a few Americans to our group. The only club we found open from there was the trannie bar. It had a good atmosphere music and beer, though no one was keen for trying there luck any more!

Alex ('Scivs') (Good Mate from Australia) message that he was in Pisa. I caught the bus in through the rolling fields and mountains of Tuscany, I can see why so many people romantacise about the natural beauty here, the whole way I was thinking I need to get myself a Motorbike and come back as soon as I can. We met up, walked to the Leaning tower. I admit, we did take the classic touristy shots of pushing the tower over, but well, something just have to be done. Alex got some classics photos of hoards of tourists taking photos, funny guy. I really enjoyed catching up with him after so long. Alex had to leave for his train, where as I stayed a bit longer to see the city from the top of the tower. The light had left by the time I had finished, I would of liked to of seen the gardens of Pisa, but that I guess I can ad to my long list of why I want to go back to Tuscany.

Sorry, had to be done.

I was talking to my friend later that night who was staying in Prague, and thought it was time that I hit the road again. The next day, Tony and I hired bikes and rode around Florence and back up to Leonardo's look out, to take some photo of the spectacular view. I returned to the hostel to collect my things and boarded my train to Venice.

Leonardo's look out.

Brutal and beautiful (Arrival in Florence)

Before I let myself sleep, and the sun lit the green fields of Tuscany, I wrote. With my sleep deprived state I gave insult to the common comer until my thoughts were all down. Though I had been in Italy for a week, it felt as no time had passed, and wondering weather or not I should of got on this train. Rome I feel will always have a special place in my heart, dynamic with excitement around every corner and pleasant with memories of association. For better or worse I found myself in Florence.
Around the corner from the train station was my hostel. Over the next few day I became quite great friends with my room mate Tony, a Brit who had organised to work at the hostel for two weeks as a cheep way of seeing Tuscany.
We strode into town that night, it wasn't long before we saw the dome of the cathedral raise from the city center. The level of detail in the construction and decoration of the Duomo is fantastically imminence; there must be over a thousand cravings just on the outside, and no inconsistency of quality, no matter the heights reached, and has been one of my personal architectural favorites so far!
Close by the statue of David by Michelangelo stands, carved with such superb definition you can see, the veins that rise slightly from the back of his hands, the nearby area hosts a further array of statues, bronze and marble, depicting many scene, brutal and beautiful.
We then continued to Leonardo's lookout, that winds up the side of one of the nearby mountains. It is a remarkable view across the red orange roofs of Florence, whether by day or lit up by the city lights. There is also a club next to the look out, that looked like a lot of fun, but unfortunately a white Tee and jeans was not going to cut it for entry. However, we did check out a recommended a pub, on tap they had a British beer called Dragoon, sharing the colour and taste of molasses. After the flavour shock of the first sip, it was quite delicious, and dangerously alcoholic. A couple of drinks later, you get hit with the alcoholic metaphorical form of a sledgehammer, great fun; but the hangover the next day had hit Tony for six.

The next night, I stayed up quite late again, this time the only beverage that I drank way to much of was tea, and wrote a different kind of journal entry.

And the truth just seems so fresh
I'm just being me no need to impress
I digress I still fiend for respect
I guess I got to do my best to keep
myself a little in check
When you got what you need
just some food and a bed
You see your pockets aren’t as deep as it gets
I'm overseas, my apologies if
this seems arrogant, please believe
that is not my intent
A few epiphanies change my perspec-
tive, one life so I'll give it my best
The achievement is in love not the sex
That line between the song and the text
Still doing things for the the fuck of it
Never the less I feel a little

More mature in a sense.