Cinque Terre (6/4-6/5): Lost in the Woods

Image courtesy of ezioma

Cinque Terre was one of the destinations I was most looking forward to before my trip began. I was super pumped for doing some hiking and had heard about the beautiful trails with gorgeous views of the coast line.

I had booked a hostel in the small village of Riomaggiore, located at one end of the Cinque Terre. It was about a 4 hour train ride from Ventimiglia, during which I met a couple from Wisconsin whose names I can't remember. The train rolled into Riomaggiore in the middle of the afternoon. I walked through a colorful pedestrian tunnel that connects the main street of Riomaggiore with the train station. It led out into a softly winding street that crept up the hill away from the water. The road was lined with small markets and pizza shops, as well as a few hostels/restaurants.

Riomaggiore (courtesy of Brian Pennington)

I found my hostel a few hundred meters up the hill from the tunnel exit. I walked into a tiny office where I paid the man behind the desk before following him out the door. He led me down the street a ways and then up a narrow alley of steps to a wooden double door. The "hostel room" he showed me to was a modified old apartment with a kitchen/bathroom on the first floor and a bedroom on the top floor. The bedroom had 1 queen bed on one side of the room, and 5 bunks on the other side. When I arrived there were only 2 other people in the apartment: Andrew and Courtney from Vancouver. They had just finished the trail hike not too long ago and were recovering/sleeping/showering.

Shortly after I arrived two more people entered the apartment: Marta and Pat from Melbourne. We got acquainted and all that for a bit, then Marta, Pat and I headed down to check out the beach. The beach was around the corner from the main street, and could be reached by a small trail that led along the coast. The water was very choppy so we didn't swim, although some adventurous souls braved the waves while we watched.

That evening we stopped in at a couple of the small markets on the street to pick up some pasta, fresh pesto, bread, and wine in order to take advantage of our kitchen. The pesto in the Cinque Terre area is amazing. We cooked up the meal and headed up some more stairs from our apartment to a small walkway overlooking the ocean. We sat there and ate pasta, drank wine, and watched the sun set over a peninsula in the distance. The birds serenaded us while we ate, accompanied by the rolling sound of waves hitting the shore. It was an incredibly beautiful evening.

At some point we found out that it was Andrew's birthday so natural law dictated that we had to keep partying. We drank in our apartment for a bit but were forced to wander out in search of more beer. In the street we ran into some Americans who pointed us at a small cafe that sold take-away beer. One of the Americans was a girl who grew up in Hutchinson, Kansas and knew Murph (my good friend and former roommate). That was my small world experience for the trip... unfortunately I do not remember her name. We followed the Americans to another apartment with an outdoor patio where some more people were partying. Many of them were from Georgia I think. There were also a couple of Canadian girls crashing there who were traveling with no plan whatsoever. They were interesting to talk to.

We hung out at the apartment until an old man yelled at us to be quiet, at which point we headed down to the beach where even more people were partying. Apparently the previous night they had about 20 people go skinny dipping in the dark in the ocean. This night it was too rough and dangerous to attempt that to the disappointment of many. I don't remember specifically when we left the beach, but it was probably around 2:00 when we stumbled back to the apartment to sleep.

The next morning I woke up at 9:00, had a quick breakfast, and headed for the trails. My intention was to get there before most of the crowd so that the trail wouldn't be covered with too many tourists. I can't find a good map of the trails online, but you can check out this one for a general idea. The typical path is to hike along the coastal trail through each of the 5 villages. My plan was to basically just follow this trail the entire way.

The early morning hike started out well, it was cool and overcast. I made the trek between the first three villages in not too much time, seeing very few tourists along the way. The hike was pretty easy up to this point. The next section of trail which ran between Corniglia and Vernazza was longer with more elevation change, but still was not too difficult. I did have some trouble picking up the continuation of the path once I was in each town however.

I arrived in Vernazza at 11:30 and decided to take a small break down by the beach to rest my legs. There were a lot more tourists here than I had seen on my trek so far, I think partly because most people walked the trails in the opposite direction of me. I contemplated obtaining some sort of sustenance but decided to wait and reward myself once I reached the final village of Monterosso. This turned out to be a somewhat painful mistake. I left the beach and walked around Vernazza for a bit trying to find out where the trail picked up to head to Monterosso. It took me a bit but I eventually found markers for what I thought was the correct trail.

The trail headed up a few sets of stairs and then began to curve inland towards the mountains. It was still overcast and a light rain had begun to fall which helped cool me off. The trail eventually became paved with some sort of stone and wound back and forth up the mountain. At each turn was an empty shrine (I think there were 14 of them in all maybe, signifying the Way of the Cross). As I progressed up the mountain I began to doubt that I was on the correct trail, but decided to keep going anyway since I hadn't seen another entrance. The trail eventually stopped winding and instead followed the gentle curve of one of the mountains while still increasing in elevation. I came around the backside of the hill to discover a smallish white, well-kept building. I have no idea what it was.

Farther up the hill I came across a sanctuary/cloister area, which I believe was the Nostra Signora di Reggio. There was an ancient fountain built into the wall and methodically placed trees provided a closed green canopy. The low light, lack of people, and the mist from the humidity gave the area a very sacred, ethereal feel. I walked through the yard, past the sanctuary building, to a lone bench at the edge of the mountain overlooking the valley below. The valley was a sea of green with very few roads visible. The tops of the nearby mountains were obscured by a fog that rested upon each of them like a soft white crown. The weird lighting due to by the mist and cloud cover seemed to really bring out the green of the area so it looked very luscious. I really apologize for not having a camera and taking pictures here. Very few people travel this path apparently and there are no good pictures that I was able to find online. I underestimated the beauty I would find and wish I would have been able to capture at least a pale impression of it.

At 12:30 I managed to tear myself away from the bench to try to pick up the trail again. The sanctuary was at a bit of a crossroads, with a road leading one way up the hill, and a very narrow trail leading up in another direction behind the sanctuary. I tried walking a small distance along each of them, trying to figure out where they were on the crappy map I had, but with little success. Eventually I was about to just head back down the way I came and try to find the coastal trail again. On my way back past the sanctuary I ran into an Austrian couple who were staring intently at a map. I struck up a conversation with them and found out they were about as lost as I was. The man was a doctor who spoke good English, but his wife spoke very little so they conversed between themselves in German.

Santuario di Nostra Signora di Soviore

(courtesy of Davide Papalini)

Using our combined powers of intellect and guesswork (and some small signs), we eventually determined that the small, narrow trail (8b) was the one that we needed to take. We followed the trail up through some dense underbrush before it emerged onto a road which we followed for 100m or so. On the road we met some hikers coming from the opposite direction who confirmed that we were indeed going the right way. After the road the trail picked up in a far more open area. The trail itself was still narrow and wound around the steep mountain at roughly the same elevation most of the way. It took probably an hour or so to hike this leg of the journey since we had to go a bit slower, but along the way we saw hundreds of butterflies, a wide variety of plant life, salamanders, and even a couple of what I believe were Iberian Emerald Lizards. Eventually we came to the end of the 8b trail at the sanctuary of Nostra Signora di Soviore. This was a cool little sanctuary with a pretty tree-covered walkway along the front side. We stopped here to fill up our water bottles (or, in my case, my camel pack). The Austrians had also (thankfully) brought along a couple of baguettes which they shared with me.

The last 45 minutes of the hike were straight downhill from the sanctuary towards Monterosso. Going downhill is actually a lot harder on your legs than uphill, which is something I didn't fully realize until this hike. By the time we reached the village my ankles were killing me. I parted ways with the Austrians and set out in search of something to eat, or the train station, or something. It was approaching 15:00 so many of the shops and street vendors were closed to the dismay of my stomach. After wandering around for half an hour, I figured out that I needed to go through this tunnel to reach the other half of the town, where I found both pizza and a train. The pizza in Cinque Terre was delicious and was some of my favorite from the trip.

I got back to Riomaggiore at around 16:00 or a little after and showered/rested. Overall I estimated that I hiked ~13km, with an unknown elevation change throughout. Getting "lost" on the trails was the best thing that could have happened to me, as it allowed me to explore some of the less traveled, and in my opinion more beautiful, trails. It also allowed me to discover some of the secluded beautiful areas with no preconception of what I was getting into. It is a very different experience to stumble upon something beautiful when you don't really expect it. If you ever head to Cinque Terre in the future I would recommend exploring some of the higher trails (and wearing pants if you do).

That evening Marta, Pat, and I once again cooked dinner in our apartment, this time pasta with a red sauce and some bell peppers along with a salad, tomatoes, and garlic bread. We ate up under the sunset again before hanging out in our kitchen with some other Australian friends of Andrew and Courtney. At some point we once again headed down to the beach where we found a much more chill crowd from the previous night. There was a group of Australians sitting around a campfire that they had built. The group was basically just camping/squatting on the beach and was traveling about as cheaply as you possibly could. We stayed and chatted with them until an unidentified time, before heading back to sleep.

That night it stormed and some of my clothes that were hanging on the clothesline to dry blew off onto the ground. I woke up in the middle of the night and went out in my boxers to rescue them. The next morning I found my towel soaked, hanging over a fence a few meters up the hill from our apartment.

The next morning I said goodbye to my four fantastically fun friends, then hopped a train towards history.

Cinque Terre was an incredible experience and taught me something about traveling with a camera. Namely that I should bring one if I am going to go anywhere remotely obscure. The experience was a fun mix of nature, hiking, cooking, and partying. Unfortunately I realized a bit later that I had accidentally left my sunglasses there and went the rest of the trip without any.

At this point in my trip I began to wonder at my incredible luck with the people I had been meeting. Everybody I had met at hostels so far was super nice and fun. I was worried that I was using up all my good luck and was due to meet a few ass-holes in the near future. I'd tell you whether that was the case, but I'm going to leave you hanging on this one. Oh the suspense.

to be continued...

Torri Superiore (6/2-6/4): Where Nature Dreams

If you read my first post, you might remember that Torri Superiore (TS) was one of my favorite destinations on the trip. Often times when I tell people about it I am asked how or why I decided to go there for two days, so I present that information here (feel free to skip ahead if you don't care).

The Prologue

Although I did minimal research for my trip before I left, I did spend some time looking for some areas where I could "get away" so to speak from the city/touristy travel. I had a couple of recommendations for Cinque Terre (my next destination), but I was struggling to come up with other concrete locations. Having just finished the book Deep Economy, my search quickly took a turn towards environmentally conscious or ecologically sustainable communities. I had also recently discovered the concept of Earthships so I ended up down that path. I was unable to find any Earthships near train lines, but I did stumble across the term "ecovillage" which led me down a promising tree of links.

Searching for ecovillages in Europe proved to be a more difficult task than I had first assumed, even with a website such as the Global Ecovillage Network (GEN), mostly because the individual websites (if they existed) were rarely in English. I don't remember if I found Torri Superiore through GEN or if I just got lucky, but it was a gem of a find. Their website is not only in English but it is also well put together. The main reason for this I found out later is that Torri Superiore differs from most ecovillages in that it places an emphasis on something called ecotourism. In fact most of the income for the village comes from the guest house.

I contacted the village while I was in Paris and reserved a room for two nights. The rooms were €39/night which included dinner and breakfast.

The Story

On my way to TS I stopped off very briefly in Monaco and got lost before finally finding my way from the bus stop to the train station. I grabbed a train from there to Ventimiglia, which was just up the coast. In Ventimiglia I was to catch a bus the 10km up to TS. Nobody at the train station spoke English very well so it took me a while to find the bus stop. I waited there a while, gelato in hand, for about 45 minutes while I watched different numbered busses drive by. Eventually I stopped one and asked about the "number 6" bus. I was told that that #6 wasn't running that particular day because it was a national holiday. At that point I walked back to the train station to grab a cab for what was about to be the most frightening car ride of my life.

If you've ever been to Italy then you probably understand the reputation that Italian drivers have. They play by different rules. My particular driver basically flew down the highway weaving in and out of traffic at his leisure. When we got closer to the village of Torri the road became winding and too narrow for more than 1 car to drive down. In Italy when this happens you don't slow down. Instead you just honk the horn a few times before flying around corners so that people know to get out of the way. I eventually made it to the middle of Torri safely and my heartbeat slowed some.

TS is actually located slightly north and up the hill from the village of Torri. Torri itself is located at the foothills of the Ligurian Alps in a valley with the Bevera River running through it. It has a population of maybe 150 and you can cross the village on foot in less than 10 minutes. TS is a short walk up the hill in a 700 year old building that the small community has spent the last 20 years renovating, while still preserving the old architecture and walls. The building is built into a fairly steep hillside with a few solar panels located up the hill above it to provide electricity. There are around 20 or so permanent residents of the ecovillage, and any number of visitors depending on the space available and the season. There are a few guest rooms available for rent as well as a small campground nearby for tents and campers. I could spend all day describing the ecovillage, but in the interest of space I will let you read the rest on the website.

I arrived at about 15:30 or so to find some people walking around sleepy-eyed. The previous three days had been spent in celebration with over 150 guests coming together to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the cultural association that founded TS. I gathered that very little sleep had been had in those three days.

I met the two people who were "in charge" of the administrative/tourism activities for the village. Lucilla was the lady I had been in e-mail contact with. She showed me around the place briefly before showing me to my room. It has a large, well laid out kitchen, a couple of dining rooms lined with environmentalism books and magazines, a nice patio overlooking the village and the valley, and a variety of homes for the permanent residents along with the guest rooms mentioned earlier.

My room was refreshingly simple, with two single plain beds, two small tables, and two small windows which I quickly threw open letting in the gorgeous northern Italian weather. The bathrooms/showers were just a few steps away in another room. The door had a lock on it but I never felt the need to really use it.

I took a brief nap but was once again afraid to oversleep, partly because I had forgotten to ask when dinner was. Afterward I got up and wandered around the village for a while. I was pretty much given free run of the place so I explored as much as I could without invading on anybody's privacy. It only took 10-15 minutes to really see most of it. I ended my exploration up on the balcony where I met an interesting German man named Dominik. Dominik told me about the "trust fridge" where the beer was kept and could be obtained by leaving a euro in the coin box on top. Dominik speaks at least 4 languages including German, Italian, and English and works most of the time as a freelance translator which he is able to do while traveling. When work is slow he also spends time teaching windsurfing, something he has done in a variety of locales including Egypt and the U.S. Basically he is one of the coolest people ever.

View from the balcony (courtesy of sethfrantzman)

After a while I went out and walked around the road that leads up the mountain a ways. I didn't head far since I wanted to be close for dinner, but I got to watch the sun start to slowly set over the small valley as I watched an older man tend a small garden. The man worked with more patience, care, and concentration than anybody I have seen in a garden.

At 20:00 sharp a bell rang which signaled the beginning of dinner. I can't even begin to describe how amazing the food was here. Especially after a week of eating mostly street-stand food, the home-cooked, from scratch with fresh ingredients meals that were served at TS were insanely delicious. The first night I don't specifically remember what we ate, but I believe it was some kind of pasta, risotto, etc along with traditional Italian salad and red wine. Everyone at the village spends time helping out in some way with the cooking, but there are 4 main "chefs" that take turns orchestrating the meals.

Everyone eats together, and since it was beautiful out we spent both evenings eating on the balcony. Almost everybody was speaking Italian at the dinner which was slightly awkward for me but also sort of fun. Lucilla explained that when Italians eat they almost always talk about food, not politics or gossip or anything else. Dinner is not just a time to re-nourish your body; it is the most important social activity of the day. The people there are a very close-knit, friendly community and I felt very welcome.

After dinner some people began to slowly disperse while others stuck around for a while and chatted/drank. I was introduced to two Canadians that had just arrived in the village, a mother and son. The mother had actually been born in Italy and the son spoke some Italian as well. They were both very energetic people and fun to talk to. I also met an Italian guy with a fedora and a backpack who apparently was going to cross the mountain the next day to visit his cousin who trains monkeys to play with mentally handicapped children... at least that's what I gathered, he didn't speak the best English. He was a wanderer through and through.

As the night wore on and conversation began to die, I went inside and received permission from one of the residents to play a classical guitar I had been eying since I got there. I spent the next hour or so unwinding outside with the guitar, working travel stress down my fingers, through the instrument, and out into the night sky. I think it was 23:30 or so when I went to bed.

I woke the next morning at around 8:30 after a great night's sleep. I took my time showering and then headed down to the one small grocery store in Torri to grab some supplies for a hike I was planning later that day. I made it back to TS just in time to grab breakfast before it closed at 10:00. After that I met Lucilla in her office to take care of the financial aspects of my visit.

At 10:20 I met two other guests, Alberto and Maria, for a short hike down to the river. Alberto and Maria were both graduate students in Amsterdam and London, respectively, who were individually working on research related to TS. Maria had just arrived shortly before I did but Alberto had been there for over a month already. He led the way down a small trail past a natural spring that flowed some distance to irrigate the agricultural project for TS on the other side of the river.

The agricultural project was a fairly recent development mostly run by an Australian man who had moved to the area a little over a year ago. He was the only one in the village with much experience running sustainable farms so he was put in charge of the project. The gardens were terraced into the steep hillside and the man himself lived near the top of the hill with a volunteer who was staying for the summer. Water flowed from the spring down one side of the hill into some sort of gravity pump that would push it up the other side, higher in elevation than the source of the spring. I did not quite understand the logistics of how the pump worked, but it seemed fairly ingenious.

Image courtesy of ReverendMungo

Alberto led us off the trail a bit over an outcropping of rocks to a shallow little pool at a bend in the river. The water was so clear you could see the bottom, but it was also cold so I did not jump all the way in. Alberto mentioned that if you swim around the corner there is a small waterfall that you can sit underneath. I regret not checking that out for myself. We stayed down by the river for an hour before heading back so Alberto and Maria could catch lunch. On the way back we quenched our thirst with delicious water bubbling out of the ground at the source of the spring.

Image courtesy of ReverendMungo

I decided not to stay for lunch (an extra €10) and instead head up the mountain for an exploratory hike. Along the way I ate a cantaloupe and a banana that I had purchased earlier. I hiked for 2 hours or so and saw some gorgeous views of the valley. This was the first time on the trip I missed my camera.

The rest of the afternoon after I returned I just chilled out and caught up on some writing. Dinner that night consisted of stuffed red peppers and a few other things I can't remember. After dinner I talked some more with the Canadians and played the guitar some more as well. Before heading to bed Maria conducted a short interview with me for part of her research.

The next morning I grabbed breakfast and was headed to the bus when I was picked up by a nice old lady who gave me a ride into Ventimiglia. She was almost as crazy a driver as the cab driver was, but was somehow able to converse with me while racing into town.

Torri Superiore was incredible and I am very tempted to try living some place like that for a time in the future. The scenery, the people, the architecture, and the food were all amazing. There was luxury in its simplicity and the village was very peacefully free from distraction. Writing about it has filled me once again with a sense of longing.

Alternatively, I think it would be fun to travel around Europe or somewhere else, volunteering on farms for a week or two at a time before moving on to the next one. This is apparently a very feasible way to travel with a little research up front to find places.

Image courtesy of ReverendMungo

Paris (5/28 - 5/30): Je Rêve de Sommeil

The overnight bus ride from London to Paris was not fun by any standards. As mentioned multiple times I was pretty sleep deprived by this point, and this bus ride pointed out to me that at some point during college I lost the ability to sleep sitting up. The ride took about 8 hours total, with a ferry carrying us from the UK to the European mainland. Thankfully we were allowed to get off the bus and walk around once we were on the ferry. It was storming during the ferry ride, the the water was choppy and the boat rocked quite a bit. I tried in vain to sleep on some benches and chairs. We were on the boat for maybe an hour and a half at most. The only redeeming part of the bus ride itself was the passenger sitting next to me watching an English movie on his laptop with headphones and french subtitles. I was able to grasp the gist of most of the plot which helped pass the time.

At around 6:30 the bus pulled into a station on the outskirts of Paris. I wandered up to the giant subway map on the wall where a few other travelers were standing trying to make sense of where we were. Eventually we all figured out how to get where we were going and got in line for the one ticket machine nearby. I ended up buying subway tickets for myself and another couple who's credit card wouldn't work.

I should take a step back at this point and remind the reader that I did not know exactly where I was going to stay. I had been in contact with a couchsurfer who was going to e-mail me his address, so my next objective upon arriving was to find an internet cafe, which I assumed wouldn't be too difficult... Assumptions are risky devices, especially when traveling alone in a foreign country.

I took the subway into Paris proper close to the Bastille, which I knew was the general location of my host's apartment. I got out of the subway and immediately began to search for an internet cafe. My general strategy for these types of things is to walk towards areas that seem to have the most shops/tourists/etc. I wandered around for a bit while Paris began to slowly awake. The city was still mostly asleep which, along with my sleep deprivation, gave it sort of a surreal and dreamy quality which was enjoyable for the first hour or so. After an 2 hours of wandering around in vain (and circles occasionally), I stopped into an open shop to get some water.

I was really really nervous about interacting with the Parisians. I had heard many a tale about how they hated tourists (especially Americans) and would not talk to you unless you spoke French. My fear was not so much about being shunned as much as it was about looking like a "typical" American ass-hole. I had a little bit of French under my belt, but I would not really call it passable by any means. So i sauntered into this little shop and managed to order a water in French. I then try to ask the guy behind the counter where an internet cafe is, but he has no idea what I'm talking about. He had spoken some English, so I whipped out the classic "Parlez-vous anglais?" trying to be polite. He just smiled, shook his head, and stared at me. This was really my only run-in with the stereotype, but it came at an inopportune time.

I left the shop and gave up on trying to find an internet cafe (it was around 9:15 at this point). Instead I pulled out my "book of information about everywhere" and found a hostel nearby where I could hopefully find a bed and crash. Unfortunately when I arrived at the hostel the manager informed me that they were booked, and that I should try back at 11:00 to see if there were any cancellations. He did not sound optimistic about that option. He did point me to an internet cafe around the corner though, my salvation. The internet cafe was closed until 10:00 so I went around the corner and grabbed an espresso and a pastry and hung out until 10:00. I then entered the cafe full of relief as if the cafe itself were my new home and logged on with a sense of peace as I readied myself to discover the location of a usable bed. Disbelief physically shook me when I found I had no e-mail from my supposed host. I did however have an e-mail from another couchsurfer named Thomas that said if I still needed anything to drop him a line.

The lack of information stunned me for a while and I sat there trying to get my brain to process the information. Eventually I decided I did not have much faith in the hostel opening up, and I didn't want to try another one for fear of receiving the same news. Instead I found the cheapest hotel room I could that was fairly close to my current location, booked it, and made my way over there. The hotel was simple but nice, had a shower, and the price was right. They had free wi-fi and overpriced internet on a computer in the Lobby. I was freaking out a little bit at this point so I got online for a while and booked a train to Nice to make sure I didn't get stranded or something somehow. This whole series of events may seem a bit melodramatic, but I was really really tired :).

After some time on the internet I went out and grabbed some absolutely awful Chinese food down the street (ironically, the worst food I had on the trip was in Paris). I was supposed to meet some people that I had met in London at the Arc de Triomphe that afternoon, but I just crashed instead at around 15:30. I woke up at some point during the morning and spent another hour on the internet booking hostels for the next few days. I also had contacted Thomas and he kindly offered me a room for the following night. I then went back to sleep until 9:00ish in the morning. In all I think I got around 16 hours of sleep that night, which was refreshing.

I don't remember anything noteworthy about the next day. I basically just wandered around Paris, eating delicious pastries and baguettes. I wandered by the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, a street market somewhere, and a variety of other things. At around 17:30 I made my way up to Thomas' place in Montmartre.

Thomas was an incredible host, an example I hope to be half as good as when I host people in the future. He speaks 3 languages, has been to (I believe) every country in Europe, and knows a lot about art and Paris. We relaxed for a while when I first got there, then he took me out and showed me the area, including the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, located at the highest point in Paris with an incredible view of the city. We then stopped by a grocery store before heading back to Thomas' place for dinner-- his Indian friend Anirban was coming over to cook. Luckily for me Ani spoke excellent English but very little French. Thomas also spoke pretty good English.

The meal was delicious, a traditional Indian dish made with prawns. Thomas and Ani were both PhD students in Art History and Nanotech, respectively, so the conversation was as interesting and delicious as the meal itself.

At around 23:00 or so Ani had to leave to catch the subway home, so Thomas ans I went out and he showed me Montmartre at night, including the cabaret and sex shop area of town. We walked by the Moulin Rouge and a 6 story sex shop. There were also quite a few drug dealers in the area and Thomas explained to me that they rarely have the drugs actually on them. Instead they hide the merchandise inside a door somewhere and when you purchase an amount, the dealer gives you a door code and an address where you can go pick it up. The police apparently tolerate the trade as long as there is no violence. So while there are quite a few drugs in the area, it is supposedly pretty safe.

After walking around for a while we popped into a couple of cool local bars and had some beers. My stomach was killing me for some reason at this point and the alcohol didn't help, so we headed back to Thomas' place at around 2:00.

I woke up the next day around 11:30 and headed in the direction of the Louvre. You can spend days in there, but I only spent 3 hours or so. I saw the obligatory Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, the Wedding Feast at Cana, etc but the most impressive thing to me was the Code of Hammurabi, which is almost 4000 years old.

Image courtesy of Leslee at 3rd House Journal

After exiting the Louvre museum, I wandered through it's gardens for a bit before heading towards a park Thomas recommended to me called the Jardin du Luxembourg. The garden was really cool and had the first model of the statue of Liberty. In the garden was also this large basin of water with sailboats in it. Children would run around the outside of the pool with sticks and rescue any stuck sailboats by sending them back out to sea. It was really fun to watch.

I eventually reluctantly left the peaceful greenery of the garden and headed back to Thomas' place where I had a bath and some dinner he prepared, including delicious homemade crepes. I then left for the train station to catch an overnight train to Nice, my next destination.

Paris was a very very cool city overall. I could definitely see myself living there if I actually learned enough French first. I love the fact that there is an independent bakery, butcher, and produce stand on almost every corner. The food is fresh and real, and the commerce in general is very local and small. The city is easy to get around in and the public transportation is cheap. Montmartre was my favorite part of the city, as it seemed more laid back and younger than many of the other parts. Thomas and Ani were great people and I was very fortunate to have met them, especially considering my failure from the previous day at finding a place to stay. I would love to go back there some day when I am a bit more organized, know some more french, and have more time.

London: Down the Rabbit Hole

London was the first destination on my path to enlightenment since it was the cheapest destination to fly into. I had not originally planned to spend any time in London because it is so expensive, but I change my mind at the last minute and figured I might as well check out the city while I am there. It was also nice to start out the trip in an English speaking country to kind of ease into things.

    Image courtesy of michaelrighi

I arrived at the airport at 7:30 in the morning. I was planning to couchsurf with a host I had been in contact with, but I had forgotten to write down the directions to his place. The lady checking passports at the airport was not too pleased when I told her this, but she reluctantly let me into the country anyway. I quickly proceeded to find an overpriced internet terminal so I could copy down the directions from my e-mail.

The airport is located north of the city a bit so I needed to take a train into town. I was pointed in the right direction by the train help desk guy and grabbed the train at about 8:30. I was supposed to change over to the tube (subway) to reach my actual destination. This proved to be quite a challenge since I walked in completely the wrong direction for a while and had to have some maintenance guys point me to where I actually needed to be going. I finally managed to find the right train and get to my stop.

I had told my host I would arrive at his place around 9:00 since he usually leaves for work at 10:00. It was about 9:30 by the time I got off the tube. It was also, in typical London fashion, raining slightly. I walked the 9 or 10 blocks to his place and arrived at 9:50. Luckily he answered the door looking like he just woke up. The guy's name was Steve.

He gave me a brief tour of his tiny flat where I met another couchsurfer, one who cannot be pinned down by such a fragile and earthly thing as a name, but for convenience will be referred to as "Ken." Ken is a super cool dude who had been traveling for some time before I met him, and who's soul is still off experiencing the world as I write this. Ken and I left shortly thereafter while Steve headed to work. We found a place to consume the requisite English breakfast, and then just sort of wandered around the rest of the afternoon. We strolled down the markets on Portobello Road, through Hyde Park and the Kensington Gardens, and saw Buckingham Palace before heading up to the Soho area to find some food.

The Portobello markets were really cool with cheap produce and a variety of other items available for purchase. Buckingham Palace was about what you'd expect, crowded with tourists all pining for a photo of the famous Queen's Guard. My favorite part of London was the parks/gardens. They were huge and gorgeous with a large variety of plant life and wide open green areas. They also weren't packed with people which was nice. This preference will become a pattern throughout the rest of my posts.

After some over-priced Indian food and a quick stop at a clothing store, Ken and I headed for a bar called "The Couch" for a London Couchsurfing meet-up. It was about 19:00 at this point (yes, I'm going to use 24-hour time while talking about Europe). The meet-up had a huge turnout and more people kept showing up. I got to speak to quite a few cool people which convinced me to try to surf in Paris, my next destination. I also met a couple of Americans who were headed to Paris next and made plans to meet up with them one day. I left the bar at about 20:30 to head back to my host. Ken chose to stay at the bar and try to find a new host for the night.

When I got back to Steve's flat, I found two more couchsurfers had arrived in the meantime, one guy from Kentucky named Marcus, and another from Argentina who's name I cannot remember. Both were cool people, but I was sort of unsure where we were all going to sleep given the tiny size of the flat. After a bit of getting to know each other, we headed out for a local pub near Steve's place. The pub was pretty cool, it had 4 or 5 little rooms separated by short walls that did not reach the ceiling. To cross from room to room we needed to pass through a small door reminiscent of Wonderland, with beer as our shrinking potion.

We stayed for a few drinks and chatted for a while, with the conversation turning more and more to politics as the volume of beer increased. The pub closed at midnight and we headed back to Steve's place for 1 more drink before crashing on his floor. It was a tight squeeze but we all managed to fit.

At about 1:30 Marcus and I left Steve's place due to an altercation, the details of which are not important (and don't bother asking in the comments). What is important however is that we were wandering around an unfamiliar town at 1:30 in the morning, myself exhausted and still slightly drunk. I should mention that I hadn't slept in about 36 hours at this point (minus the ~1 hour I had just gotten). We wandered around lost for a while and finally found a pay phone to call a hostel to get directions. Unfortunately the guy working the desk at the hostel did not know the city very well and could not tell us where we were exactly. So we wandered around a bit more before Marcus thankfully figured out where we were. We caught a bus downtown to a different hostel, checked in, and crashed at around 4:00. We intended to wake up at 9:30 in order to shower before check-out, but instead ended up sleeping straight through until the bell for checkout startled our tired bodies out of bed.

I split with Marcus at this point and wandered out into the rain in search of an internet cafe. Instead I found breakfast and coffee, which were more vital to my survival at that point anyway. I changed clothes and cleaned up in the bathroom of the little cafe before managing to find an internet cafe nearby. I posted a message to the "Last Minute Couch Paris" group on Couchsurfing looking for a place to stay while I was there. In the meantime I figured out how to take a cheap overnight bus from London to Paris that left at around 20:30. I headed to the bus station to purchase tickets and then go from there. I was carrying my full pack around this entire day, which I estimated to weigh around 20kg (44 lbs) or so.

After finding the bus station and purchasing tickets, I decided to go see some more "sights." I walked past Westminster Abbey, which was impressively huge. I was going to take pictures but came to the unfortunate realization that I had left my camera, along with a couple of books and other belongings at Steve's place. I thought they were lost forever but I was able to eventually recover the items at the end of my trip in Dublin.

After the Abbey, I headed in the direction of a design museum I really wanted to check out. Unfortunately I ran out of time and energy before I got there, but I did manage to see Shakespeare's Globe Theater which was pretty cool. I turned around at that point and tried to take a "shortcut" back to the bus station... big mistake. I made this mistake more than once while I was in Europe: if you follow a street headed in one direction, there is no guarantee that it will continue heading in that direction, take you where you thought you were going, or even keep the same name the entire way. So I paid for my arrogance by wandering around lost for about an hour before figuring a way out of the labyrinth. I got back to Victoria Station with plenty of time to spare, so I grabbed some lunch and internet and waited for the bus. A couchsurfer from Paris had contacted me at this point saying I could stay with him. He gave me a general location of his place, and I told him to send me his address which I would retrieve once I was in Paris.

I boarded the bus on time, smelly and exhausted, not having slept or showered in some time. I think I also probably walked over 15 km that day.

London overall was a roller coaster ride. I met some really cool people, but my karma deficit also seemed to follow me across the pond, resulting in a scattered series of unfortunate events. The city seems like a cool place to live, with a diverse mix of people and ideas. I was only there for 2 days so I didn't get to see a lot of it, but I did like what I saw and most of the people I met.

TEA Day 1: The Non-Trip

Image courtesy of whiteafrican on Flickr

My trip got off to a great start.

I was scheduled to fly out of Kansas City on May 24 at 10:55 a.m. I received an automated phone call at about 10:00 the night before while I was leaving a Kansas City Wizards game. The robot on the end of the line kindly informed me that my flight had been canceled and that I was placed on a new flight for the same day that would leave at ~4:30 p.m. instead. I was completely fine with this news since that meant I did not have to get up as early and could stay out carousing until the sun rose. The new flight was also connecting through Cleveland instead of Atlanta and would fly into London Heathrow instead of London Gatwick. Neither of these location changes really mattered.

The next day my cousin was kind enough to give me a ride to the airport. I had been told to get there at least 2 hours early for the international flight because it "takes longer." This was a dirty trick, and I ended up at my gate an hour and 45 minutes before my flight. In the meantime I contacted the host I was supposed to stay with and let him know that I was going to be arriving later than expected.

The airport was uneventful and we boarded the plan on time. I ended up sitting next to a lady from Maine who frequently visits London to see shows/etc since it is apparently cheaper for her to go there than it is to go to New York. Across the aisle was a nice girl named Lauren who lives in DC but apparently travels to KC quite often for work. These are the friends I made in the hour we sat on the plane while the maintenance staff tried in vain to fix the navigational computer. Apparently it would work sometimes when they restarted it and not others. This news did not exactly instill confidence in the passengers. (The pilots were apparently not strong in the force and still required targeting computers in order to fly).

Eventually they kicked us off the plane so that we could sit even less comfortably in the terminal waiting area. At first some people in the crowd were understandably miffed because they (along with myself) were going to miss connections in Cleveland and wished to be re-scheduled for a different flight. One lady had set up a specific time and location to meet with relatives from all over the world and had no way to contact them. Eventually people passed into acceptance and began to patiently wait things out for the next hour and a half. After that tempers once again began to boil and flare.

In the Delta section of the airport there were apparently only two terminal employees left and they were trying to figure out the flight, handle phone calls, and manage the passengers all at once. Needless to say it was a mess. It was around 6:00 by this time, but there were apparently no more flights leaving that night for some reason. The next day was Memorial day so I don't know if that mattered or not.

After about 2 hours of waiting they finally decided to cancel the flight and begin re-scheduling passengers for the next day. This process took about 20-30 minutes per passenger for some reason. I managed to catch a glimpse of the software they were using behind the desk and I'm pretty sure they modeled it after the interface from an 80's movie. I eventually was re-scheduled for a flight the next afternoon through New York, received a hotel voucher and two meal vouchers worth $7 each (not that $7 can buy a meal at an airport hotel), then headed out to get my baggage and catch the bus to the hotel. It was about 7:30 at this point.

I got the bus with Lauren and a woman from Berlin. After I checked into my room I headed down to meet the two of them for our "free" dinner. We ended up just sitting at the bar and drinking/eating where we met a pair of other refugees from the flight who were bridge partners about to take a week vacation in London. We chatted up for the next few hours while more people from the flight wandered in and out. I managed to find out that the other London travelers had snagged an earlier flight than I was scheduled for, so after we headed to our rooms I called Delta and got my flight re-scheduled for the earlier one. The unfortunate downside to this change was a 5 hour layover in New York. I also contacted my host to let him know once again that I had been delayed and would now be arriving in London the morning of the 26th, one day later than originally planned. I then slept well for what would end up being the last time for a while.

The next morning went off without too much of a hitch. The flight to New York was uneventful and I hung out with the bridge guys for a few hours at the NY airport (no bridge was played sadly). The flight from NY to London was delayed half an hour due to a strong tailwind but did not affect our arrival time.

On the plane across the Atlantic I received two servings of hot pasta spilled on me by the flight attendant. One of those times it splashed all over a book which still shows blood-red scars from the incident. Fortunately it is still readable and won't have to be put out to pasture just yet. At this point I was beginning to wonder what I had done recently that would have bestowed me with such Karma problems.

I did manage to eventually arrive in London "on time," which I will talk more about in the next post. I was lucky enough to not have very concrete plans so the whole delay did not affect my trip much other than to steal a day of sight-seeing from me. In exchange however I was able to meet some cool people. It's funny how a situation of misfortune can bring people together. The phrase "misery loves company" isn't necessarily negative in connotation.