Quick Ferry update

I'm sitting on a Ferry, almost back in Athens. I don't have much time, but this thought occurred to me, so I'll write it. My last post may be from an airport, or from home. From the port of Athens, I will take a bus to the airport, fly to Rome, spend half a night there scouting for vegan fare and gelato, and catch a plane to SFO through France.

The thought

In this trip, I have traveled by Train, air shuttle, plane, bus, bike, rowboat, motorboat, ferry, subway, car, scooter, atv (did not bode well) and by foot. It was awesome. :)

See you guys soon? :)

The Greek Isle

I slept most of the ferry ride to Santorini, even though I was sleeping on the floor (carpeted, with an extra sleeping pad from a fellow passenger with a sleeping bag, who gracefully offered me his and made my night leagues more comfortable). The ferry was delayed by three hours (to my surprise and disappointment- I could have gone to a Chabad dinner with Sharon, it was Friday night) and by the time we got moving it was around 1 am. I woke up with a start, it was the announcement of the arrival to Santorini that woke me up, and it was a bit scary: "The boat will be arriving in Santorini in a few minutes. Please get off as the boat will be departing immediately!" (YIKES!) It turned out I had a good 15 minutes and a bunch of human traffic before that happened, and I happily departed the ferry and made my way onto the green bus to Fira. In Fira, I was about to call Vladimir, my host, but I lost the piece of paper with his number (great). Luckily, there was an internet cafe nearby, and I managed to get there and back before the bus left for Ia (the picturesque village where he lives). Sure enough, we met at the bus stop. Vladimir is a Serbian dude living in Greece, working the impossible hours that people on the islands work. He works 11-12 hours a day, 6 days a week, while his friend works 9 hours a day, 7 days a week. These are the two typical work schedules. You can feel sorry for them, except that 5 months out of the year, they don't work at all. :) I'm still trying to figure out what I would prefer, toying with the idea of actually having a choice.

I was exhausted from the ferry, but we managed a mini-tour before Vlad went to work. He showed me the gorgeous view and we talked about the island a bit. Then he went to work, and I came back to his tiny studio apartment (his space utilization is uncanny) and took a good, long nap. That day I took it easy, and aside from a bit of sunset-hour photography, I mainly stuck around his place. On my way back from my walk, I came across the bookstore he mentioned. This bookstore doubles as a work exchange hostel, with people sleeping amongst the books after hours (so cool!). The people there are really nice, and that's where I go to check my emails :) Aside from that, the bookstore is a really cool one, with books in English, Italian, German and Spanish, encompassing the customers with a sense of antiquity from their homes of wooden shelves.

The next morning, it was Vlad's day off, so we made plans to go to the beach (I mean rocky volcanic terrain you climb down from/jump off of into the water). After lazily starting off the morning, some people from the bookstore joined us, and we made our way down the infamous winding steps all the way down to the beach (Amudi). Vlad and I ended up spending a good 3 hours there. At first, we swam around a little island with a church on it (has anyone seen sisterhood of the traveling pants 2? Apparently there was a scene shot there). Vlad borrowed goggles from his friend (calling them googles all the time, until he managed to confuse me), and I got to see the bluest blue of water I've ever seen. I saw some tiny fish, but the most amazing thing was the sun rays dancnig in the water. It looked like the rays were coming from the depths of the sea, not from the sun, and I made sure to etch that memory into my brain :)
After swimming, I hung out on the rocks and read awhile. Then we managed to catch a ride back with a nice family that squeezed us in their trunk (it wasn't that kind of trunk!) and avoided the dreaded way up. I did feel like I cheated a bit, but I'm on vacation!

Later, we hung out on the terrace of the bookstore, enjoying the astounding view. At some point Adam (dude from Nashville) and I were sitting there when a Korean family walked in, as we forgot to close the gate. One woman was wearing a dress, her husband matching board shorts, and they posed some ridiculous poses before asking us to be in a picture. The man sat between Adam and me, linked his arm in *Adam's* arm, and the woman said "Say Korean Kim-Chi!" (Adam swore he heard Korean cream cheese). After that incident it got windy, and I was enjoying a break from the heat while playing backgammon with fellow hanger-outers. Some lying around and reading later, we went to watch the sunset from a bar down at another beach. A small gang of local dogs followed us down, sat with us, and followed us up. One dog stayed with me after parting ways with the others, and finally stalled behind when someone started feeding it. It was an awesome feeling :) Vlad and I went to the DVD shop where he works, picked out a few movies, and ended up eating chocolate and watching "Wedding Daze". I can't emphasize how horribly mind-numbing this movie is, but it was still kinda cool to just chill and watch a movie.

Yesterday was another very relaxed day. I was debating whether or not to walk to Finikia, a village nearby, and decided to wait for around sunset for better lighting. I might have gotten a bit dehydrated in the morning, because I was out of it and pretty weak all day. I spent most of the day being lazy, playing Set and backgammon on the terrace of the bookshop. Finally I made my way back to the apartment to make dinner, deciding to ditch the Finikia photography op plans and write this blog post instead, when a girl walked in and introduced herself. It turned out she is Vlad's friend who came by to use his washer. I asked her where she lives and she said...Finikia! So a few minutes later, all plans to write my travel blog diminished, and Christina and I were happily sailing on her scooter. She joined me on my mini photography expedition, and we ended up having dinner together. She's really really cool :) Today we're going to the beach (a real beach on a different part of the island) together, and I might rent an ATV and tour the island on my own in a couple of days - being lazy was my plan for Santorini, but I'm getting a bit antsy now. :)

All things Roman and Greek

Before I continue my travel stories, I have to include my great experience with Luca. After eating lunch and yummy gelato with his friend Lorenzo in Pisa, I made my way to Sarzana in an attempt to see the area where Luca the couchsurfer lives in. Unfortunately for us, we had about two hours before my train departed for Germany earlier than we expected, so Luca spent that time making sure I had everything, hopping with me on his scooter to grab provisions for the road, and even put his sister up to the task of making sandwiches for me. This is one of the coolest guys I met on my trip, and he deserves a huge shoutout. Though short and essentially uneventful, the rides around Sarzana on his scooter and seeing his house in the country complete with his Nonna (grandma) and her pet chicken, made me have the best reason to come back to Italy.

Rome

When I got out of the subway after arriving once more at Roma Termini, which seems to be my meetup point with myself for the next leg of the race, Rome did not look promising, and I assured myself I made the right decision to leave it to the very last and spend only one night there. Diego, my host, was really nice, and picked me up from the airport and planted in front of his computer, where I wrote my last blog post from. However, after writing my blog post, I went to an evening on the town with Diego. Just like with Florence, I realized how wrong I was. Oh my...I had only half a day in Rome, and it all looked magnificent. We found soy gelato and walked to a couchsurfing meetup in front of the Colosseum, which left me in awe. Awe. How could it not... I talked mostly with a couple of typical SoCal guys (Sorry Ri, if you're reading this...are you not?) which were pretty cool, and despite waking up so early, went to bed past 2 am. I literally collapsed on the bed and changed into my pj's sometime around dawn. I got up for real at 9 and we took our time getting ready for the day, looking up veg restaurants and planning our route. It was a very simple one; with such a limited amount of time, we were looking at the bare essentials. The Colosseum, get lunch, walk around the city center.
[Anecdote: The night before I was looking to store the remains of aforementioned pizza, and asked if I could put it in the fridge. "The what?" Asked Diego's roommate, asking Diego to translate. Diego indeed translated and Fabio's suspicions were confirmed: I asked to put the pizza in the fridge. They both gawped at me and said: "The fridge? You don't put pizza in the fridge. Maybe the oven." Italians vs. the world].

And so we embarked on our journey through the city, looking forever for parking until Diego decided to fork up the euro for a lot. We made our way to the Colosseum and I was ready to hang myself on the thick rope of despair in sight of the endless line. But, ladies and gentlemen, for an extra 4 euro I sneaked past it, asked to join a tour group, and was inside the Colosseum in about 2 minutes (Diego kept trying to make me stand in line and was staring at me open mouthed and stuttering as I strolled past the masses with success). The tour was worth every cent, informative and interesting, the Colosseum indeed colossal. I was filled with awe inside it, even though I don't exactly agree with anything that went on in there (it's hard to step out of modern thinking patterns and accept history despite its obvious clashes with everything I believe in). After that, we had a healthy, nutritious, delicious and extremely reasonably priced lunch at a posh vegetarian restaurant (was that even real?), and Diego took me to the Trevi Fountain. I admit, I did not know what it was (oh my). But when I saw it, I was close to tears (I know it's sappy). It's HUGE and MAGNIFICENT and you just stop. And gape. And take a deep breath. And then you start taking pictures. According to the tradition, if you stand with your back to the fountain and throw a coin, you will return to Rome one day. By now you should guess how thrilled I was that there was such a guarantee; Rome wasn't built in a day, and can surely not be seen in a day, therefore I shall return.
After the fountain we found the best gelato I'd had yet. The flavor was called "berries" but it wasn't a dark red sorbet; instead, it was creamy white flecked with berry colored swirls. I tasted it and it tasted divine... a mix of cream and berries, the creamiest cream and berriest berries I've tasted. I got it in a vegan cone (was this place kickass or what) with banana sorbet and left feeling full-bellied and elated with yumminess on my taste buds. Diego and I headed towards the train station (yet again), where we picked up my luggage and, to my surprise and delight, Diego gave me a ride to the airport (ah, Diego.) The flight was changed to an hour later ("nobody called you?") and I slightly regretted not being able to see more of Rome, but I was also grateful to sit down and rest my legs; I was exhausted.


Greece

I landed in Athens. And so starts the last leg of my trip, Athens to Santorini, back to Rome for a night (Roma Termini again), then a connection through Paris, then home. But between home and the bus to the city center and haggling for the cab price to the hostel lay the last rays of my glorious vacation time before returning to my awesome, yet bustling, routine back home. The cab ride was amusing, as the driver didn't speak much English (I'm embarrassed to say I don't speak a word of Greek, an official first in my world travels), but got across that Mykonos is a party island, all you do is "drink, beat, drink, beat, party beat, drink beat, drink. Beat." At the reception desk of the hostel, shortly after, I was greeted in silence by a little old man. "I am here", I said, and he replied: "and I am here". "I am also here", I said, and he replied "and I am here". Then we both started laughing and he asked for the name of my reservation. This little old man was amusing without doing anything special, but we made each other laugh at least five more times before I went to find my room and made a bunch of unnecessary yet unavoidable noise to the ears of my sleeping roommates. (Later I walked up and was looking for something in the hostel, and ran into a few French kids. I asked them about it and they said: "I don't know, ask the bizarre old man". That pretty much sums it up)

I woke up late this morning and went downstairs to take care of business. Forgot my quickdry towel at Diego's (this is a tradition as I forgot my first one at a hostel in Costa Rica, sob) so I dried myself with one of my skirts. I found out shortly after waking up that my new roommate was a girl from California who spent her childhood growing up between California and Israel. Sound familiar? Yeah, I know. Sharon turned out to be a kickass traveling companion, and we spent the day touring the National Archaeological Museum (most of the art isn't behind glass and you can take pictures of everything!) and the Acropolis (which is under heavy renovation but still impressive). I bought more postcards (If you want one from Greece, send me your home address) and a couple of magnets, a habit I picked up in Italy and thought more cute than tacky. In between we had lunch at a good, cheap vegetarian restaurant, and the lady serving food at the buffet turned out to speak 5 languages: English, French, Italian, Arabic and Greek. Amazing :) The health food store next door housed a hilarious Greek guy who lived in the States for a few years, and provided full minutes of entertainment. After our Acropolis adventures we ventured into the center of town, where it's at, and came back to the hostel to see if Sharon could cancel her obscenely expensive toured guide to Delphi tomorrow (we couldn't, so I might join her in the morning). We had dinner at the center and I befriended a sweet, old, fat stray dog, which was so dirty by the time I was done petting her, the layers of grime felt like a velvet glove on my hand. Walking back to the hostel, we found a Gelateria that sold soy ice-cream popsicles. I got pistachio (which I've been fantasizing about since the beginning of my trip) and Sharon got hazelnut (yuHUM), and we walked back to the hostel, chatting half in English and half in Hebrew. My bunk bed awaits, as it is 2 am, and I wake up at 6:45, but I felt obliged to write about my travels before I forget the small details that bring a smile to my face and make this trip special.

Mosquito update: Vampire mosquitoes do exist. I have a huge cluster of about 12 bites on my neck and about 7 more next to my shoulder. They are small and annoying and I'm grateful for my Fenestil gel. But they have not conquered me yet! I shall fight to the death! (You know, until I run out of Fenestil gel).

Rain in Munich, the tourist trap and Pizza

Well, I decided Bavaria over Umbria. Even though the train ride was expensive and uncomfortable (10 hours from Pisa to Rosenheim, then another hour to Traunstein), I thought going to hang out with Stefanie (my friend from English class who is visiting her boyfriend Stefan (yes, those are their names) over the summer) would be a cool idea. Literally cool, as the weather was warm enough when I arrived, but by nighttime it was pouring rain. I arrived to have a lovely breakfast with Stef and Stef, and proceeded to collapse on the bed and nap away. When I got up, we had lunch, then hopped on bikes and caught a train to one of Stefan's favorite bike trails. He packed no less than an inflatable boat into an enormous backpack, complete with oars and all. The trail was gorgeous. Mountains surrounded us as we made our way on the path towards the lake, passing a reservoir inhaling majestic views (photos soon to come) and clean air. We stopped to eat some melted chocolate (a swiss army knife was involved for the milk chocolate) and finally arrived at the lake, ready for a dip and a boat ride. Stef and Stef took care of business and we hopped into the boat for a short excursion, and I enjoyed their beautiful singing until the clouds showed ominous signs of rain and we headed back to shore. Minutes later the clouds cleared up and I discovered how much more difficult it was to hold myself up in sweet water (I'm used to hanging out in the sea). The water was cold and refreshing and the lake floor was padded with grass. The way back was much easier, as it was all downhill, and we cruised our way back and had a beer (I had water) while waiting for the train. As we got off at our stop, it started pouring rain and was miserably cold all of a sudden, and we were picked up, bikes and all, by Stefan's devoted father. We went out for a lovely Thai dinner and by the time we got back I was more than ready to hit the pillow.

The next day Stef and I took a boat to see the Palace of one King Ludwig, who Stef accurately described as the Michael Jackson of Royalty. Said Ludwig drained most of the family heir, building no less than 3 castles, until he was cut on grounds of ridiculousness, I imagine. He mysteriously drowned about a year (or two) later, and no details are known about his death. The castle we visited was a tribute to Versai, slightly bigger, but aspired to be a copy of it. As we walked in, the guide explained that the marble we see is actually fake, a combo of glass and stucco, that was more expensive at the time than real marble (weirdo!!). We walked through some rooms, none of which seem to capacitate any sort of living-in (it's more of a walk-through palace. Psycho Ludwig!). When we got to the bedroom (where the king spent an astonishing 10 nights), the guide pointed out secret doors leading downstairs and showed us a weird orb-shaped night lamp that, when lit, cast a blue light in the entire room. We also saw a cool dining table contraption that was meant to be lowered to the kitchens, laden with food and elevated back up into the dining room. Unfortunately the kitchen was never completed and the table would have taken six servants to operate. The king also took a bath once in his bathtub, the size of a pool, and as we exited a room going downstairs the weirdest thing happened. The elaborate, tacky, over-the-top decorations disappeared, the furniture was gone, and before our eyes lay a bare castle hall. All there was, were brick walls, wood enforcements and a concrete staircase. This is due to the draining of the funds and apparently 50 out of the 70 rooms in the castle remained bare, only 20 were completed. That's all from wackoville, folks. Let's get back to reality.

We had dinner at an alehouse (thanks to Stefan, I got a lovely meal with AMAZING mushrooms - my mouth is watering just thinking about them. Oh lordy) and ice cream in the rain, and were contemplating what to do with the rest of our night, when a spontaneous concert was born in the living room of Stefan's parents. I brought my ukulele, Stefan played guitar and piano, Stefan's dad played the accordion and trumpet and his mom rocked the trumpet and flute, and Stefanie played this weird harp-like instrument. It was really great and went on for about an hour until mom and pop retired and I started looking up trains for the following day.

Munich

Munich was cool. We started off at Stefan's friend's exhibition at the art academy of the university that left me quite nauseous. Someone did a display and smeared the walls with pig's blood while leaving blood stained sheepskin in the middle of it all. I was appalled and had to retire to a chair nearby but on our way out we saw a cool musical display. An artist set up a glass table with five long metal bars going across it, horizontally. There were plastic cups that people could move around on top of the glass, and a man playing an electrical string instrument was watching small tv screens of the movement of the cups. It took me a few seconds to realize the display was a big sheet of music, and the cups were notes in different lengths. When people moved the cups around, the man played different notes. It was cooler than pig's blood.

We had lunch outside and moved inside due to pouring rain. The pasta sauce had a yummy, fresh taste that comes from the mix of quality tomatoes with quality olive oil (I also had gazpacho and was too full to move by the time we left). As we were walking, our shoes got soaked from the rain, and by the time we stopped for coffee to flee it, the sun was out again, smiling innocently as though it had always been there. We took the subway to the city center and went to a gorgeous market. It was beautiful, fresh, charming, and there was an olive bar that smelled divine (that's right folks, the olive bar had an amazing aroma that drew me to it despite my full belly). From there we found our way to a huge bookstore, through a protest of people demanding to change the situation in Iran, and hung out there for over an hour. We got out and found ourselves in front of an orchestra performance on the street (there was a piano there. How did they get a piano into the middle of the street?) and made our way to the train station. I bought my grandma a collectible spoon, said goodbye to Stef and Stef, whom I wish know the extent of my gratitude, and boarded the night liner to Rome. This time I got a bed on the train, and it was worth the night's sleep as well as the experience.

Rome to Naples

In Rome, I left my big, horrendously heavy backpack in storage and tried to find an internet point to find a hostel, but there were none around the station. I gave up and boarded the slow train to Naples (the ticket machine swallowed 2 extra euro that the man at the ticket booth would not refund, claiming I should know that the "gypsies stick paper in the machines and you should never use them"). Three hot hours later, I found myself passing the dirty surroundings of yet another Piazza Garibaldi, full of people selling fake purses and leather belts, and boarded a bus towards downtown Naples, close to the water and away from the historical center, which I never saw. One odd bus ride later (you can't buy tickets on the bus, only at tabaccherias or special machines that don't seem to exist), I made my way up to the wrong hostel and crossed the street to the right one. I decided a stay in Naples would be nice with fellow travelers, so I could see the sights with like-minded folk versus couchsurfers who grew up there. Shedding most of my stuff at the train station in Rome felt pretty darn great. After settling in, I went out for lunch and walked around with fellow traveler Doug, law student from Boston. We saw the outside of the beautiful Spanish castle (it looked like a castle, what you imagine when you hear the word castle, pictures soon to come), and walked along the water (nothing fancy, polluted roads, crazyyyy drivers) with the backdrop of beautiful and almighty Vesuvius, the very volcano that doomed Pompeii. On our way back we witnessed the funniest thing; three Italian guys on a small motorboat arguing in the distance. They were so animated in their argument, they looked like the three stooges. One yelled something, then made a series of hand movements and slightly pushed the second, which in return yelled something, made a series of accusatory hand gestures and pushed the third, and so on. It was a sight that will stay with me for a long time.

We made our way back to the hostel, while consuming Lupini beans and chill Granita (yum), where we met two sisters from Indiana and made a plan to travel to the island of Capri the next day. I wasn't even planning on it, and seeing how it's so expensive to go there, it wouldn't have crossed my mind. Unfortunately, nobody warned me how much of a tourist trap the blue grotto is (a beautiful sea cave in which, with some odd trick of the light and the reflection of the sand, the walls and water appear to be a shocking blue), and I felt like I had to go.

I imagine that had I stayed in Naples, I would have regretted it, and I indeed felt rested when I got back that day, having spent it in the sea (the beach was consisted of sunbleached rocks and is nothing to talk about), on a boat and walking swiftly around the town of Capri, eating a huge thing of sorbetto and riding a cable car. But I dare not write how much I spent on taking a boat around the island, to reach the blue grotto, and yet another admission fee to get into it in a rowboat. I will also fail to mention the horribly long wait on the rocking boat, waiting for everyone to enter and exit the blue grotto. So let's not talk about it :)

When we got back I moved to the hostel across the street, to find myself in the presence of AC and a girl from Florida doing the same route as me (Athens and Santorini). I went to sleep as early as I could, as I woke up at 6:45 and headed towards the ancient ruins of Pompeii.

One improvised breakfast and a bus ride later placed me at the entrance to Pompeii with travel companion Doug. We walked around, saw the ruins and dead bodies and endured the heat. It was interesting, especially how well preserved everything is. I mostly wanted to see the bodies of the people. Apparently lava never made it to the city, only layers of volcanic ash, which covered and preserved many things astonishingly well. The amphitheater wasn't really mindblowing, but considering what happened in the city, it's crazy to think these structures prevailed. The baths and their chambers were really impressive.

I was on a timed schedule and would not leave Naples before properly eating pizza. So we made our way back to the train station and walked to the famous, best, awesomest pizzeria in Napoli, called Da Michele. It's been around from sometime in the 1800's and they only serve two kinds of pizza: Marinara (vegan) and Margharita (with cheese). Yum. YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM! The crust is thin but gooey, the tomato sauce laden with olive oil and flecked with garlic. So simple, yet insanely divine. We sat in the shade of a building entrance next to the pizzeria (I didn't have time to wait to be seated) and after taking some pictures of the action (both eating pizza and the dudes making it), Doug and I parted ways and I made my way to the train station once again, Roma bound.

This is where I am now. Getting eaten alive by mosquitoes again and updating a whole lotta blog. My belly is full of the best of Neopolitan pizza, and my couchsurfer is at the gym. We're going to a couchsurfing meetup tonight, and I'm hoping to squeeze in a veg restaurant and as much gelato as I can before my flight to Greece tomorrow. I can't wait to go to Greece! I can't wait for Santorini! But I will also be happy to return to my lovely Bay Area people. Baby update: I've been seeking them out and making faces at them a bunch. I made friends with a toddler with a beautiful laugh on the train today, and played shy with a little girl in Capri yesterday. Can you tell I miss work? Someone hug me :P

Leaning towards Pisa

Ciao a tutti!

I've been bad about updating my blog, mainly because until now there weren't a lot of amazing things to report. How can I put this nicely...in the words of Bender.... Florence can bite my shiny metal a**! Bologna turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, although I had amazing sorbetto and even ricemilk softserve (let's just say that despite everyone's worries, I've been fattening up well with sorbetto and gelato galore, finding vegan food without even asking for it wherever I go, today I had ricemilk gelato that was melting before I could eat it, and it tasted much better than it sounds), and my host in the heart of Bologna was the nicest, most caring Israeli guy. I decided to skip Venice due to technical difficulties and the lack of a lover, and decided instead to head straight to Florence. Everyone says Florence is beautiful, so they must be right, right? WRONG!

At first, I must say, Florence looked promising. My couchsurfing host took me on a very scary scooter ride to see the center, and it was really cool. We went to see his painter\lawyer friend, who lives in a building from the 15th century. Then things took a turn for the ugly when I dropped and broke my brand new point and shoot camera, and my host started hitting on me and left me feeling extremely uncomfortable. That night, I got about 20 mosquito bites and my legs looked like they had sprouted tumors on them. I tried to to tear my skin off scratching the bites. Never mind, I thought, and walked to the city center. It was polluted, dirty, and PACKED to the gills with tourists (I do realize the use of the caps lock key, excuse me if it's starting to wear you out). I walked for over an hour, trying to find the camera place to fix my little broken gadget, only to discover they only deal with Nikon and that the cost would be more than buying a new camera anyways. Sadness. The next day I worked hard on finding a new host as well as paying a visit to the famous Galleria Dell'academia, to see one famous small-membered marble statue in the name of David, aka my husband in the bible. I was very excited but after paying 14 euro I was shocked to discover the gallery consisted of David and two more monotonic rooms filled with 14th century paintings that all depicted christ or the virgin Mary. 30 minutes later, I regurgitated myself back into the scorching heat and headed back home.
After spending a night at a different host's apartment, I moved on to my 3rd host in Florence, who turned out to be a nice man from Argentina. He gave me a ride to the Pitti Palace, which was great. A beautiful palace with beautiful gardens, was my experience in Florence to be remembered. Back at his place, I discovered he was also hosting a girl from Argentina at the time, so I spent a couple of days with her. It was nice but we didn't do much...I wanted to get the hell out of Florence. Decided to skip Lucca and head straight to the Cinque Terre, where I was guaranteed some amazing sights and the cool sea to bathe in.

This is where my trip took a turn to the amazing. I was feeling like I should give up, go somewhere else, but I'm glad I persisted. Pictures coming soon of one of the most beautiful places I've seen. I didn't even mind the tourists. I spent two days taking the train from La Spezia to the Cinque Terre and spending the day there - 5 villages built on cliffs on the coast of Italy. The water was amazing to look at and to swim in, the buildings in the villages painted brilliant colors, people eating gelato everywhere. I traveled with a Brazilian girl named Carol, who was staying with me at our host's place. On the first day we explored the last village of the five named Monterosso, and on the second day we hiked from Corniglia to Vernazza. It was a beautiful hike along the coast and now I'm a bit sore from hiking and swimming (ah...the sea...)
Our host was probably the best CS host I've had. On the first day he waited for us with a scrumptious dinner (someone remind me to make the onions-in-wine dish please!), and on the second day he picked me up from the station on his scooter, waited for me to pack and took me back to the station and waited with me for the train to Pisa. He made me feel the exact opposite of the slimebag in Florence, and for that I am grateful.

-Pisa-

One train ride later (I have to say, I like long train rides, they're comforting. This was only a 90 minute train ride and I wished it were longer) I found myself walking to the Piazza Garibaldi to meet with my host. He lives right by the famous Piazza, and I had a long, good night's sleep. I woke up lazily and read some Harry Potter (yes, geek) before heading out for yummy lunch and vegan gelato with a Spanish CSer who lives in Pisa. As he left, I got a text from Italian CSer who came to hang out in Pisa. He was great, we met up with his friend and spent a few hours sitting on the grass in front of the tower. I haven't taken the corny picture with it yet (it was amusing seeing all the people suspending their hands in midair for the famous 'I'm holding up the tower of Pisa' pose), but rest assured I will tomorrow. From here, I might make a beeline to Munich to see my friend Stefanie, or else head into Umbria before going to Rome and Naples. What does the future hold for Michal? The nearest future isn't certain, although the less near future holds a flight to Athens and a superferry to Santorini!

p.s. has anyone else besides a kind informant noticed the url to this blog can be read 'Michal strip in Europe?'

Sono en Italia!

I am sitting on my friend Rossella's floor in her apartment near Bologna. I haven't been outside yet. My train arrived at 3:15am and Ro gracefully came to pick me up from the station. I was trying to catch an earlier, faster and more expensive train that left the main station in Rome, Roma termini, at 20:30. As I landed at 18:35, there wasn't much chance of that happening. I skipped going to the bathroom and spent an immensely long time waiting for passport control. Finally, I rushed through, got my backpack (the phrase "travel light" eludes me every time) and walked fast, focusing on catching the train from the airport to Roma termini. I was thinking very positive thoughts and indeed, the guy who sold me the ticket explained that I have 25 minutes to transfer trains. Hurray! I will make it, indeed, I will save Ro the experience of getting up in the middle of the night, and I'll arrive at the Bologna station in 3 hours instead of 5!

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...

Remember that expression, knowledge is power? Well, had I known straight where to go from the train, a 10 minute walk to the biglietteria (ticket office), without stalling to try and find the locked bathroom, trying to buy a ticket from the ticket machine which didn't vend tickets to Bologna, perhaps if I'd have PACKED LIGHTER, maybe I would have made the train. But alas, I found the biglietteria at 20:29, and when I told the agent where I was going, she made a face full of despair and told me what I already knew - that the last train from Roma termini had left, that I would have to take the metro to Roma Tiburtina, the other train station, and endure two more hours on the train and wake Ro up in the middle of the night.

And so I embarked. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins - I was in Italy! I was traveling! The sentences I learned from italianpod101.com had all come in handy, and what Maya taught me was of immense help (minus the naughty ones she added on facebook, which I spotted for what they were and didn't use them, thus avoiding unintentionally hitting on guys). I was also very grateful for speaking Spanish - it has definitely made my life easier with Italian.

I couldn't work the payphones (later Rossella explained that they only work with prepaid cards, as someone always tries to break the coin slot and steal money) so I had to ask this guy on the train platform to use his phone. I got a hold of Ro and shortly found myself on board the slow train going to Bologna. The train had compartments, which I'd never been in before (but it was appropriate as I was reading Harry Potter), and though it was a bit crowded the people were very nice. I had a conversation in English with a nice guy (I switched from talking about getting to Greece to asking about buying water, and he thought I meant "get to Greece by water". There was a very amusing moment), and a conversation in Spanish with a girl from Naples, and before I got a chance to look for the service cart, one of the other guys in the compartment came back with an extra bottle of water for me. One by one, the people got off, and I was left with the guy who got me the water (let's call him "acquaman" for kicks) and a large lady who showed me how to turn the seats into a bed (how cool!). I slept for a bit and woke up to the sound of snoring. Loud, horrible, unstoppable snoring. I looked up and caught the eye of acquaman, we exchanged slightly amused but mostly desperate looks. I tried poking snoring beauty, to no avail. Acquaman gestured 'tickle her foot' but my fingers hit rough skin and she didn't even stir. I tried shaking her slightly, the snoring stopped for a blissful minute, I curled up but before I managed to close my eyes, she was at it again. So I woke her up, shaking her a bit more this time, and said "you're snoring" about four times. She mumbled something that neither me nor acquaman could understand (she spoke a bit of English but it didn't sound like English) and we had some relief. Finally, we all fell asleep and I woke acquaman up 10 minutes before the train stopped in Bologna.

I walked around the station looking for Ro, tried my luck with a payphone, and finally she found me. We got to bed at 5:30 am and it's odd how different the setting is, but how natural everything feels. She even found me a vegan pastry at the local bakery, and now she's making pasta and I feel loved. Next step: learning Italian. How hard can it be?

Israel part one

The first few days in Israel were the usual; I hung out with family and a few friends, and it just felt familiar and comfortable and nothing to write about (So I hugged my grandma and ate some hummus...). I felt unbelievably lucky when a few days had gone by and I only got one mosquito bite. It also didn't seem to be as hot as I dreaded, so naturally I assumed I exaggerated it all in my mind, and life was good. I hung out with Tal, we went shopping in Tel-Aviv, and I met my friends Maya, Vered and Shay and indeed saw my grandmas. My uncle Gadi was here for a week, flying from India where he lives, on the way to the States for a couple of months. It was fun, and I was feeling rather pleasant. I spent the night at Vered's and got first-hand experience of Tel-Aviv heat, unprotected by the AC at my aunt and uncle's house. I woke up half-baked, and not from substance (I was literally swollen. Honestly, who gets that?) And after hanging around downtown Tel-Aviv in the scorching heat for a few hours (this is where Israel started giving me a run for my money), went to collapse on the couch in the AC. The evenings, on the other hand, are a different story. Those of you who know me, know how much I love Berkeley and consider it home. Unfortunately (in Italian - sfortunatammente), we don't get hot summer nights, and I've been waiting to walk around in a tank top for a while. The nights are breezy, beautiful and warm, inviting for a stroll on the beach or just to sit outside in a cafe (ignoring the cigarette smoke), which I gladly enjoyed. The other night, I dipped my feet in the warm (warm!!) Mediterranean at sunset, and walking back I rediscovered how soft, golden and warm the sand on the beach was. Without noticing the crazy person yelling on the boardwalk, or the hustle and bustle of tourists rushing from their hotel to the restaurants, I looked down at my wet feet, which were wrapped by the warm sand - and flashbacked to being a kid, walking on the beach, lost in my own little world - and it felt like home.

This being my third visit since I officially left Israel, I've been noticing the small differences that amuse, annoy and intrigue me at the same time. People often ask me why I left Israel, or in what ways it's different. Firstly, there are security guards everywhere. You have to open your bag every time you walk into a mall, and many restaurants and shops. Aside from doing their job, many are bored. My first day back, walking into the mall, the security gaurd was too busy shouting at his friend. I had to get his attention to check my bag, and without looking at me he felt up (literally) my bag, kept talking to his friend, and made a sloppy hand gesture that suggested I'd better move along. Tonight the security guard standing at the entrance to the parking lot was leaning against the security podium with his finger up his nose.
The other day the taxi driver said he'd give me a discount if I'd wait in the cab (without stealing it, he added pleadingly) while he gets his cellphone back from the repair center.
Aside from that, everything is smaller and more crowded. People give you nasty looks if you attempt to do something like crossing the street as a pedestrian while they're in the car - like they're your sworn enemy or something. On the other hand, an Ars (one day I'll explain what that is) bought me some water while we were waiting at the bus stop (of course as a way to hit on me, but I thanked him for the water and tried to look lost in thought while mildly engaging in polite conversation) and when people hear I live abroad I'm automatically a million times cooler. Another huge perk is - people can pronounce my name! The downside is how common my name is - everywhere I go there's another Michal :)

I visited Haifa and saw an old man with a complete PA system, sitting in the middle of a traffic island, singing old Israeli folk songs.
Then I went to Jerusalem and met a storyteller with a huge moustache in the heart of a gorgeous, narrow neighborhood composed of alleyways built with Jerusalem stone.
Then I came back to Tel-Aviv to have amazing Sicilian Gelatto (all vegan of course) with my awesome friend Maya and plot her visit to SF (UCB, my apartment, studio grow, Wicked, Millennium, Cha-Ya) and now I'm updating my blog, hoping that one of my couchsurfing requests to the many lovely residents in Florence will work out.

I miss the Bay Area but I'm STOKED to be traveling. Thanks to my cousin I know my next destination: Laos.

Trip begins in Fremont?

I consider my adventures starting when amazon messed up my order of the mini-laptop I got for my trip, and it was scheduled to arrive after my departure. After getting $100 from amazon as compensation, I persuaded (she offered) the lovely Pamela to drive me to lovely Fremont (only one of those is really lovely, and I still owe her ice cream), and was lectured by a lady on BART about the horrible nature of flip-flops and how they ruined her life. I named the netbook (mini-laptop, in case you're not down with the lingo - I wasn't) Herbert and marveled at it for a while. The rest of the evening rocked but is not really a part of my adventure. Let's skip to the part where Priya swears me I'll update this blog and says "I'd better not log on and find only one post about a crazy lady and flip-flops!" And so this is a promise I'll do my best, to Priya and all of you awesome people reading this and being excited for me, to update the blog with visual evidence and details of my advenures abroad.



For now, I have to finish packing my room into my closet, check what exactly I tossed into my backpack, and get some sleep. I have a long journey to embark on tomorrow. Till next time...