The Journey Home

So after conquering most of Europe, I started getting a little homesick (and tired of walking). So I made my decision to start heading back to Madrid and fly home.

Only one problem- the ash cloud from hell (slash, Iceland) was still messing up flights everywhere. I slowly made my way back to Dublin in the middle of the night, got offered money by a fellow engineer for the bus, and had to spend the night at the airport with all the other bums.

Once the sky finally cleared later the next day, I was off to Spain again. But the situation down south was even worse. We couldn't fly straight to Madrid, so we had to circle around the mountains waiting for the volcanic ash to clear from the airspace.

Madrid round two was not as fun as the first time. I spent alot of time in and out of airports and lame hostels waiting for the next flight to Atlanta. Also, the airlines wouldn't let me simply switch my plane tickets to that day. Because of the complications from the ash cloud, the only seats they had available were in first class, and they wanted to charge me upwards of $2000 to get home.

So I decided to just wait a couple days and find a cheaper flight home. Long story short, I had to buy another round-trip ticket (and only use one leg to get back). But I finally had a way to get back to American soil. And after waiting a few days, I was in the air...goodbye Europe.

I had layovers in Chicago and Philadelphia, making it even more tiring and annoying. When I finally arrived in Atlanta, it took alot of strength not to kiss the ground as I walked outside.

A friend was supposed to pick me up from the airport after I called her (there were so many delays that I had no idea when I would even land). But she was sleeping with her phone on silent (shame on you Becky!), so I just started walking. I made it to I-85, and just started walking north up the highway.

I stopped at a Waffle House after walking an hour or so. It DEFINITELY wasn't my first choice of food I wanted to eat my first day back, but it was the only thing open at 3am. I was starting to get tired after that, so I walked off an exit, found a quiet Walgreen's parking lot in suburban Atlanta, and I layed there on the asphalt (feeling surprisingly content and safe, lol).

I found the Greyhound station the next morning and was waiting for the next bus to Greenville when I decided to give Becky another call (I didn't have my cell yet, and pay phones are expensive these days!). I finally got ahold of her, and she rushed over to pick me up from the middle of nowhere.

As I was waiting (in front of a prison, lol), I had many convicts coming up to me and asking for cigarettes and celebrating their releases from jail. The easiest (and safest) thing for me to do was pretend to be one of them, so I spent the next hour arguing about the law and congratulating fellow convicts about our recent release from incarceration.

Becky finally got me, and the next day we all drove back up to Greenville. I had my car, my cell, and my friends back. Home sweet home.

Doolin and the Cliffs

The tour bus was a great call. I was expecting a bus full of old people, but instead I was greeted by 6 other travellers...equipped with 2 cases of beer for the ride. So instead of having an informative and quiet trip down the coast, we had an AWESOME time drinking in the backseat and chatting it up...the Irish countryside as our backdrop.

We stopped in Doolin for lunch. Now I was expecting a small town, but definitely not this small. The whole town was comprised of maybe twenty or so buildings...restaurants and bars mostly. And there were maybe about thirty or so houses in the surrounding area. I ordered some amazing Irish pot pie for lunch (along with some potatoes and veggies, of course). After dropping my bags off at the hostel, we all piled back onto the tour bus and drove up to the cliffs.

Breathtaking would be an understatement. I think ball-shrinking would be more spot on. I walked straight up to the edge of these sea cliffs, jutting straight up from the water about several hundred feet high. It was petrifying. Even the great pictures I took cannot really do them justice. There were so many colors on the cliffs and the water below. The constant gusts of wind were like friendly hands pushing you closer. I really wanted to jump.

The bus driver dropped me off a couple miles outside of town, and I walked the rest of the way down the hill. I passed a cool looking castle overlooking the bay. I could see HUGE waves in the distance. I hear these waves are just as big as Pipeline's on windy days when the swells are high. I was sooooooo lucky to have good weather. I had always thought that England/Ireland/Scotland all had shit weather, and all the locals I talked to said I was the luckiest visitor ever to come during those few days of sunshiney bliss.

I finally got to my hostel on the river. Exhausted, I decided to take a nap in the grass. I was awoken by a little girl and her dog. She was tossing rocks into the river while the dog chased them and barked at them. I just love it when little kids speak English with accents. So cute. Even the dog was barking with an Irish accent.

The hostel manager was named Karl, and we had a few good talks that night. He was really helpful and friendly. He recommended I get some real Irish stew at a local pub for dinner. So I took his advice. I wasn't expecting the huge, steamy bowl they brought me. Along with home-made bread, some fries, and a Guiness, I was set. The stew was so good- full of hearty chunks of Irish beef, potatoes and carrots, and the best brown gravy soup ever. I was so full I could barely finish my fries and beer. Now that's when I love shelling out 20euros for a meal.

I slept well that night, obviously. Except for my snoring girl roomie. And a stupid door that insisted on creaking all night. But I awoke to another beautiful Irish day. I had a cup of tea outside with a cute little Czech girl. Then surfed the internet a bit before hopping back on the tour bus to head back to Galway. We stopped again at the cliffs and a few more places.

It was a good way to end my trip (oh yah, did I mention that I'm done?). I'm sitting here in Dublin Airport right now (after a horrible night's sleep on this stupid bench) getting ready to hop on a plane to Madrid, and then back to Atlanta.

I'm a little sad, but I've had my share of adventures. At least I was left with a great last image of Europe...those sea cliffs, towering high above the ocean...conquering all who challenge them.

Galway, on the Western Coast

Mmmmm...much better. I left Dublin on a long bus ride towards the other side of Ireland. A place supposedly more country-ish and welcoming. I got what I wanted.

Galway was a small town right on the coast, just oozing with character. My hostel was literally a hundred yards from the water, and it was surrounded by all kinds of small shops and restaurants. I got some Irish sausages and pasta to cook back at the hostel, and enjoyed my meal with the company of a young French woman.

My first day in Galway was spent walking along the coastline. I spotted a nice park about a mile down the shore, so I started walking. The water here was sooooooo much nicer than our side of the Atlantic. It had a deep grayish blue tint to it. Amazing. While at the park, I spotted a little lighthouse a couple more miles down the coast. I couldn't resist.

The whole day went pretty much the same way- seeing something interesting further down the coast and subsequently chasing after it. After the lighthouse, I saw another small town; after the town, I saw a cool looking peninsula/island; after there, I saw a cool mountain to climb. So I walked around for many hours, just taking it all in. It reminded me alot of Hawai'i.

At the end of my walk, I trudged out to a small island with sandstone cliffs on three sides. I walked across the narrow land bridge to discover my own private spot. The cliffs were awesome-looking, with signs posted everywhere that warned of the unstable state of the edge. I sat up there for a bit and enjoyed the cool ocean breeze. King of the island.

Along the way back, I grabbed a chicken sub covered in that sweet Mae Ploy chili sauce I always keep in my fridge. I thought it was really strange that they actually had that sauce on hand here in western Ireland. It was yummy. I'm gonna put that sauce on everything from now on.

I met a couple of Australian girls and a girl from Seattle that night in the hostel. One of them looked JUST like Megan Fox! From the side though...when she had a pouty face on. The three of us just chilled in the kitchen that night- eating, drinking, playing cards, etc.

I read one of the brochures on the table that told about a day trip down to the Cliffs of Moher. It was only a few hours away, and it was supposed to be really beautiful. So I arranged an overnight stay in Doolin (the closest town to the cliffs) and booked my spot on the tour for the next day.

Dublin

Surprisingly, I don't have many nice things to say about Dublin. The city wasn't very clean, it wasn't unique in the slightest, and it just generally lacked character and charm. It was a fairly normal city as far as big cities go.

Although, I did have some interesting experiences there. As soon as I checked into the hostel, this 6'3" German girl invited me to join her and her Irish friend for drinks later, so I decided to accompany them. The German girl had a tattoo on her wrist which said, "Love yourself, be kind to others, fuck all else." Quite the reminder.

After walking around the city for a bit, I hopped into a group that was taking a city tour. The guide was pretty funny, and he gave a long, drawn out history about everything we saw. Four hours later, I decided to leave the group. I think the funniest thing I learned was the history of the plaque mounted on the main bridge across the river.

The plaque was mounted about fifteen years ago, and it gave tribute to a priest that "died under suspicious circumstances after his carriage plunged into the Liffey River." The funny part is...this priest didn't exist. It was a prank by some local young people. And the plaque stayed up for TWO YEARS. This is the busiest bridge in Dublin, and thousands cross it every day. Eventually, the city council (after recognizing that they didn't put it up) did some research into historical records and Vatican manuscripts, and they found out that this priest didn't exist. So they announced that they were removing it.

But the locals had grown so attached to the plaque and to the memory of the priest, that they all brought flowers and candles to the bridge and blocked the way of the city council. The council members were unable to reach the plaque, and they eventually gave in to the people and left the plaque up on the bridge.

Anyways, I quickly got sick of the city. My ideal experience of Ireland was to be found elsewhere...namely, the countryside. So I did a bit of research and found that the town of Galway was a good stop to make. And off I went...

Troubled Belfast

What do you get when you put drunken Irish Catholics and drunken British Protestants all in the same small city, and then throw in decades of political and social disagreements that span across several generations? Why, Belfast, of course.

The city has been plagued by war for as long as most can remember. With the Irish fighting for independence from Britain, and the British still clinging to a land rich in exports and industry, it's no wonder that the people of Belfast are not surprised when they hear riots and fighting in the streets.

I missed the last car bomb by two weeks. Arriving late at night, I was nothing short of terrified when I first arrived. Belfast's reputation precedes it, and I was a lone American walking around after dark looking for a friendly hostel. People all around me were running home. I wasn't sure whether to scoff or join in. But my pack was too heavy for sprinting.

I was excited when I opened the hostel door to find a bunch of couches and beanbags occupied by travellers watching Avatar on the big screen. I played cards with new friends that night, not wanting to venture out into the warzone beyond the front steps. I made friends with a travelling French Canadian who was also travelling alone, so we decided to explore the town the next day.

I'm half exaggerating of course. Belfast was actually a fairly nice city. But the eastern side of town was where all the trouble was. So guess what we did the next day? Headed straight there.

We hired a "Black Taxi Tour" guide, who was an old man with a taxi, and a life which was intimately affected by "The Troubles". He drove us around the bad part of town, which had a 13 mile long wall splitting the two warring sides. The wall was 40ft tall in some places, and it had gates placed every mile or so which closed after dark.

The houses in this area all had thick metal cages on the sides facing the wall. Apparently, they still get attacked by the other side with the occasional molotov cocktail or two. There were several memorials along the wall dedicated to the martyrs of the troubles. Casualties included children as young as 9 years old. It was really eye-opening to hear this man's stories and how he had been personally affected by the war.

In recent years, there has been a big push for peace, which has resulted in countless grafitti murals depicting everything from political figures to martyrs. They were so interesting to look at. We even signed one of the peace walls.

After the tour, we grabbed a Guiness at a famous pub in town. I still haven't acquired a taste for the stuff. I feel like it's a cross between chocolate malt and molasses. But we did learn something new...the Titanic was built in Belfast! So we headed there next. After walking around for several hours, we found it. The docks where the world's most infamous sea vessel was constructed. I'm sorry to say that it really wasn't anything special. Just a normal shipyard, lol. But it was still amazing to be in such a historical place.

We walked past a Chinese buffet that night, and decided to indulge. I haven't eaten a Chinese buffet in three months, and I was definitely in the mood for food. I ate like 8 plates. The waitress just looked at me in disgust. I looked at myself in the reflection of the lid for the sweet and sour pork...and smiled.

Edinburgh

So I explored Edinburgh today, but only for a few hours. I've spent most of my afternoon catching up on my blogs, and I spent most of the morning looking for this hostel. They're having a big marathon/festival here in town, so most hostels are booked solid this week. This one is cool though.

I actually stopped in Glasgow before I took a bus here, but it didn't seem interesting. It just looked like a normal city. But Edinburgh is much more historical. The old town castle is still in tact, and it sits directly on top of a dormant volcano right in the center of the city. How awesome is that?! The city itself really isn't that big. I actually saw almost everything in the three hours I walked around.

After lunch (a sheep tripe/meat filled pot pie w/ a side of mashed potatoes), I walked around and saw the castle and some churches near it. Then I found the marathon finish line and watch a few people run by. There was a mountain right behind me, and it looked like a good vantage point to view the city. So I climbed it.

The view was spectacular. I guess I didn't realize that Edinburgh was on the coast. But from on top of the mountain, I could see the sea port and some islands in the bay. Pretty nice. I climbed back down, famished, and decided to look for a snack. I found a mosque closeby with an ATTACHED RESTAURANT. It was called The Mosque Kitchen, lol. And they served some AMAZING curry. I got a huge heaping platter of chicken curry for pretty cheap. Then I sat at the lunch tables outside, surrounded by Muslims (or whatever) staring at this "white devil" (or brown devil) eating their food. I was hoping none of them heard my American accent, lol.

And since then, I've kinda just been writing blogs. I'm finally caught up...

Salisbury and Stonehenge

I took a bus that afternoon and headed for Salisbury, the closest town to the famous pile of rubble. I met another American in the hostel, so we went out for fish and chips. Mmmmmmm. It doesn't seem like the English really invented anything new here, but their fish tasted really good, and the breading was extremely crispy and flavorful. The fries were so-so.

We just chilled in the hostel that night and surfed the internet. There was an old man that obviously didn't understand how loud youth hostels could be. And he locked himself in the lounge area to sleep, because the kids in the room next to his were being super loud. Eventually he came out and tried to talk to me, but he mumbled/complained alot and had a generally bad attitude, so I brushed him off.

The next morning, we caught the tour bus towards Stonehenge. The ride was nice, complete with voiceover and all. About ten miles outside of town, we pulled up to the site. We got our free audioguides for the tour, and walked out to the field. It was funny to listen to the commentary. They would tell this long, drawn-out story about the construction and history of Stonehenge, then add "may have happened" at the end. But it was still semi-informative.

The stones themselves were gigantic and unmovable. The tourist path lead around them, and the closest you could get was only like 20ft away. But I still got some good pictures. At one point, a little girl went running over the rope barrier towards the rocks, her dad sprinting after her. As if she could really knock them over. It would be funny though.

Some of the rocks had a blue tint to them, others had a reddish tint from the iron. When it rains, some of the rocks drip blood-like red. This is why the ancients thought the place was cursed. It was funny to see that Stonehenge was maybe 50yds away from a major highway (like almost all famous places are). We hopped back on the bus and headed to the next set of ruins, an old castle on a hill. Not much to say about that place though, we only walked around for like twenty minutes. There was a nice view though.

When we got back to town, we found a quick bite to eat at the street market (mmmm...sausage and onions in a roll), then hopped on the bus back to London. At the station, we parted ways after getting a meat pasty. I found an overnight bus up to Edinburgh, so I hopped on.

Let me preface the next part of the story with this: my feet have been stinking real bad lately. I dunno if it's all the walking, or maybe it's that my crocs have begun to rot, but after wearing clean socks in my crocs for twenty minutes, they already REEK. So guess who walked like 5 miles that day? And guess whose seat was RIGHT ABOVE THE HEATER VENT for the entire rear of the bus?

I have never been so embarassed in my life. I had three Scottish guys screaming, "Whose fuckin' feet are those?! They smell like rotten cheeeeeeese!" (in REALLY thick Scottish accents). THEN, they went around smelling everyone on the bus! What assholes. So I just pretended to be asleep. At first, they thought it was the lady three chairs in front of me, and they were spraying the whole bus with a can of air freshener they had. But then the Scottish woman beside me went back and told them it was ME. That backstabbing bitch!

So I had to endure 9hrs of driving with Scottish people commenting on my bad smelling feet. It was humiliating. I couldn't even look up at them when the bus ride was over, lol. But at last...I was in Scotland- land of kilts and bagpipes.

London (Part Two)

The next day was pretty lazy. I walked around Notting Hill, saw a few markets, and bought some nice sausage biscuits (brilliant, absolutely brilliant). I ended up taking a nap in Hyde Park right by the pond, and woke up shivering, lol. England is still fairly cold.

I met up with a couple girls that I met back while I was in Spain, and we hung out at one of their apartments. Did you know housing in London is astronomical?!?!? They had a pretty small, 2-bedroom, 1-bath apartment which was in a not so decent area and far from the city center...and they were paying over $2000 a month for it! They also said a place like that would sell for over half a million dollars! Crazy expensive. Anyways, she cooked dinner for us, and we all just chilled and played cards that night.

The next day, Me and a hostel friend went looking for a buffet. We were ravenous. And the only thing we could find was a small all-you-can-eat pizza place. They definitely weren't expecting an American there...especially me. I cleaned the place out. It was embarassing. Then I fell asleep in the park again whilst my body recovered (hahah, I love myself).

Another night of beer and cards, and I was ready to head out...

London (Part One)

So after a long bus ride up to the English Channel, we had to go through customs to get on the ferry. It was a nightmare! The British lady grilled me for like 20 minutes about everything! She asked me to name the exact cities where I've visited in Europe, my timetables for my entire trip, who I had travelled with and where they were from, where I would visit in the UK and who I would stay with, my opinions on the French and Italians, how much money I had in my bank accounts, the type of house I lived in, and so many other random questions. It was annoying, but they eventually stamped me through. I hung out with a couple Australians on the ferry and had a good chit-chat with them.

When I finally reached London, I was lost. Didn't have a hostel yet, and the subways were EXPENSIVE. So I sat in the park for a bit while I ate some leftover sausage and bread and cheese. While I was sitting there, an old Indian man approached me. He looked like a bum, so I immediately told him I had no money (not a lie). Then he explained that he was a medical student, and that he was just doing a survey for his thesis. He pulled out a nice looking pamphlet, so I decided he was legit. After filling out a rather interesting survey on end-of-life care, I moved along to find a hostel.

As I was buying a metro ticket, I questioned the guy next to me about the high prices of the subways. He said something about an "Oyster Card" (which caused me to giggle), and then he got mad that I was laughing. So I asked him how it worked, and he said (in the best British accent ever), "I don't have time to explain it all to you." So I walked away laughing, which he thought was extremely rude. He started yelling at me and calling me a prick and a twat (which made me laugh even more). I eventually turned around and gave him a thumbs up (which he REALLY didn't like), and I got sworn at even more. What a great first experience. ;)

I found a hostel in a rather nice part of town near Hyde Park. It was soooooo hard just crossing the streets here, because I kept looking the wrong directions, and cars kept honking at me and barely missing me. But I'm still alive, thanks for asking. I slept for a few hours after checking in, trying to make up for the horrible night of sleep on the bus. After a nice siesta, I went out to explore.

I walked to Buckingham Palace first. I think I've seen American prisons that looked nicer than that "palace". And you couldn't get close to the guards! I was so psyched to get a pic with the palace guards, but they were far behind the fences. So gay. So I had to make do with some distance shots. Westminster Abbey was close by, but I didn't feel like going inside. I've seen way too many cathedrals/churches on this trip.

I walked around more and found Big Ben and the Parliament building. Pretty cool. There was a bum camped out right in front of Big Ben, and apparently he has been out there for like TEN YEARS. He had a bunch of signs protesting everything from the war to abortion. I learned that he was actually a fairly rich person, with a family and kids and all. But he left his posh life to make a statement in front of the Parliament building. How strange.

I walked along the Thames River and saw all the bridges and buildings near the city center. London isn't exactly the nicest city. It's really old and dirty, and the river looks like it's filled with sewage. The London Bridge wasn't even cool! It's very plain concrete, no decorations at all. Tower Bridge was much nicer, but even then, it was surrounded by gross looking water and buildings. I felt depressed just walking around London.

I found a cool place to eat. It was like a warehouse turned restaurant. They had live music playing, and a grill outside where I bought a burger and a soda. It was a nice hangout. I went back to the hostel and had a relaxing time watching movies with some new friends. The pubs all close at 11pm, so no one really went out for drinks there.

Where to Next?

Ok, I'm sitting here in Scotland, finally caught up with all my blogs. I won't release them all at once though, cause I like being ahead of the game, heheh.

So...a quick update. My original plan was to stay here in UK/Ireland for three more months, and then make my way back to Spain for my August return flight. But I'm slowly feeling like I'm not gonna find a way to keep myself occupied until then.

You see, part of what made this an adventure for me was that I was continually seeing new places. Famous places. And I was also meeting a ton of other travelers and hearing their stories. As summer is approaching, I'm finding less and less solo travelers, and it seems like I'm finding more of the rude/touristy travelers. So I haven't made any real good friends in awhile.

Also, I've seen almost everything that I wanted to see. Honestly, I really didn't think I would last this long. But I've hit almost every major/interesting city across western Europe. All in just under three months. So if I stay here for another three months, I won't be seeing anything new, I'll just be settling down into a normal work schedule. Minus a car and my friends.

So the idea to chill here until August is getting less and less appealing to me. I've had alot of fun, and I've seen hundreds of famous places. I think the adventurer is slowly getting tired (and broke). So I may be coming home sooner than I thought.

I still have Ireland to do, so things might change. I was initially excited about Ireland the most. I dunno why, it just seems like an amazing country. So I still might find a cool hostel to work at there and stay for awhile. But we'll see. Until next time...

Paris (Part Two)

So after leaving the Arc de Triomphe, I decided to go straight for La Defense, the "new" part of town. The interesting thing about La Defense is that all of the streets are underground. So you have all of the skyscrapers and tech-buildings connected only by walkways and plazas. Imagine a nicer Manhattan without the noise of cars. It gave a really eerie feeling though. Kinda similar to the feeling I got while walking around Brussels. The arc in the main plaza though was really interesting. It was more like a hollow cube than an arc though. But it was honeycombed with office windows. They said that the entire Arc de Triomphe would fit underneath the "Grande Arc" here, so it was a giant structure (look at the pics).

After I left there, I decided to walk along the river. After awhile, I glanced over my right shoulder, and I saw something AWESOME. LADY LIBERTY!!!! There she was, just chillin' on a mini Liberty Island in the middle of the river. I got really excited because I wasn't even looking for it. USA - 1, France - 0.

I walked through more parks, and along more rivers, and saw a few more unknown but totally awesome old buildings. And then I met up with my CouchSurfing friend for a picnic. He and a few friends set up camp right on an island behind Notre Dame. There were TONS of other people our age doing the same thing (I guess picnics are popular here). We ate bread and cheese and patee and wine and a bunch of other Frenchie food. I was laughing at the contrast between this and what we do at home to hang out. For some reason, things just feel classier in Paris.

The next day, I decided to explore the Louvre. It was HUUUGE. I went straight for the Mona Lisa. It's definitely smaller than it looks on tv, but it's still cool. I have no idea why it's considered such an awesome painting though. I glanced around the room where it was kept, and I saw tons of other works of art that were way more awe-inspiring. I went back to the lobby and found a Starbucks. It's prolly the most expensive one in the world, omfg. But I determined that I needed a treat, so I got my favorite mocha frapuccino.

The cool part of the Louvre is that the museum itself is a work of art. I remember thinking that if they just had blank walls and statue-less pedestals, the rooms and layouts and exterior of the Louvre would be cool by itself. There is too much to describe, and my camera died after a few pics, so I'll just give you my favorite: the Winged Victory of Samothrace. For some strange reason, I am now obsessed with this statue. Let me start with the positioning. It sits on a mezzanine at the top of a sweeping staircase. The pedestal looks similar to the bow of a ship, and the statue matches perfectly with it. The Winged Victory embodies pure action...almost like a snapshot of an angel charging victoriously into battle. Pictures really don't do it justice. I felt small standing in front of her...small, cowardly, almost reverent. It has a certain power to it. Maybe that's why it is so famous. Anyways, I could go on and on...

Another CouchSurfer showed up that night to stay with Freddy. So we toured around the next day while Freddy was working. We saw the Parthenon, more lovely parks and statues and monuments, and of course, Notre Dame (it's hard to be impressed by another cathedral after seeing so many on this trip, but it was amazing nonetheless). We also found the Moulin Rouge up on the hill. Soooooooooo expensive to see a show there.

We looked around a little more, and then I decided it was time for a nap. And what better place for a nap than beside the Eiffel Tower. I laid on the grass, gazing up at the tower against a bright blue and white backdrop. It was peaceful there...except for the throngs of tourists, the never-ending stream of beggars asking obviously sleeping people for money, and the continual onslaught of black crows flying way to close to the ground. But besides that, it was a nice nap.

That night I took an overnight bus to London. I sat in a broken seat...BUT it was broken in a good way. It reclined all the way down so I could lie flat. I was extremely happy with my good fortune. Until right as we were about to pull away, a large black man hopped on at the last minute. And guess where he decided to sit?!?!? Directly behind me. OMFG. And he wouldn't move to the adjacent seat so I could recline!!! His english wasn't very good, and he insisted on sitting behind me even when I tried to explain that I couldn't put my seat up. So the back of my chair was lying on top of his massive chest. How awkward. AND he snored like a fat bastard! I was infuriated. My perfect seat ruined. He kept subtlely trying to push my chair forward, but it kept falling back down. Eventually, I got tired of being pushed up and down by his monstrous, breathing chest, and I moved into an upright seat. Worst night of sleep EVER.

Paris (Part One)

I feel all warm inside just writing about this amazing city. I think of all the places I've visited in the past months, Paris is the only place I could live. It really is beautiful. I stayed with a CouchSurfer named Freddy for a few days. Another great CouchSurfing experience.

I got in late from Brussels. At the station, there was an old african woman trying to lug a 200lb bag up the steps. So being the gentleman I am, I helped her carry it up the steps...then dragged it for about a 5min walk to the next set of steps, then illicited the help of some shady bus stop characters who thought they were gonna get a tip...ALL WHILE THE LADY WALKED 50FT IN FRONT OF ME, NOT EVEN HELPING. Bitch. But she did let me use her cell phone afterwards to call Freddy.

The next morning, I decided to start off big- Eiffel Tower. I got an all day metro pass, and I took the next subway to the famous flagpole. And I wasn't let down- the tower was huge. The Eiffel Tower totally dominates everything else around it. And the parks and the river adjacent to the tower are beautiful.

I walked down the hill and stood on the bridge in front of the tower and looked up in awe. It was surrreal. What made it even MORE amazing were the two blazing hot chicks in front of me making out for the entirety of the five minutes I stood there. I tried reeeeeeaaaaaaalllllly hard to get them in one of my pics, but I failed. Damn it. Ahhhhhhh, the city of love.

I was starving, so I started walking towards the Arc de Triomphe and found a market close by. I bought a huge chicken leg, some bread, and a pastry for dessert. I sat there in front of a museum and just people-watched (I have no idea why I've started to enjoy just watching strangers...weird). As I walked towards the Arc, some man pulled his car over and tried to sell me some designer suits. He literally shook my hand and then pulled me in the window. I laughed at him and said, "Dude, look at what I'm wearing right now. I have an old t-shirt, shorts, and crocs on. Do you really think I'm gonna buy your suits." He swore at me and drove off, lol.

The Arc de Triomphe was cool. It stood smack dab in the center of a HUGE roundabout. You had to take an underground walkway to get to the middle. I've seen alot of arcs on this trip, so this one didn't seem as special. Except for the fact that you could see the arc in front of the Louvre (many kilometers away), and the arc in the La Defense area of town (many miles away), and all three were in a straight line. Pretty cool city planning if you ask me...

Brussels - Land of Waffles, Beer, and Chocolate

So I decided to stop in Brussels for one night on my way to Paris. Wow. What a city.

Let me start by saying that Brussels is the capital of Europe. It has all the European Union's important buildings, as well as diplomats and representatives from all over the world. This makes for a very interesting mix/clash of cultures and pay-grades.

My first night in Belgium...what do you think I did? WAFFLES!!!! Specifically, one with Nutella (you're welcome, Rachelle). And you know what? I wasn't really impressed. It just tasted like a waffle, hahah. But it was a "liege" waffle, so it was more doughy and pastry-like. It wasn't special, but it was still yummy.

I found a hostel out in the Moroccan district. Not the nicest part of town, but it was cheap. My room stunk like poor people, and I immediately made enemies with one of my roomies by locking him out of the room (actually, he locked HIMSELF out, and got mad at me when I didn't answer his knocking while I was IN THE BATHROOM...what a fag).

The hostel gave me an AWESOME walking map of Brussels. It took me pretty much all day. I started off with what they called the "Manhattan District". It was full of skyscrapers and awesome architecture. And it was SILENT. Soooooo weird! I walked down the main street, surrounded by glass buildings, but there was no one around! And I could hear my footsteps on the grass. It was awe-inspiring. Pictures to come...

The next area of town was the European Quarter. This was where the EU Parliament building was, along with NATO headquarters and all the embassy offices. It was really nice. Tons of million-dollar apartments and beautiful parks and fountains. I grabbed a turkish hamburger for lunch (a baguette with sliced hamburger patties, covered in veggies and FRIES, and smothered in curry ketchup...zomg). As I sat in one of the parks, I watched all the officials and diplomats officially eating their official sandwiches. It was very funny to see these aristocrats in expensive suits sitting beside me on the grass, trying desparately to impress their dates with 15euro Subway sandwiches.

After that area, I explored the last outlying district of town. It was old, ugly, full of minorities, and had the enormous courthouse smack dab in the center (go figure). The courthouse was built awhile back, and supposedly they tore down tons of houses to make room for it, and consequentially made thousands of people homeless. Yup...they're still there.

Then I walked around the center of the city...found Manequin Pis (the famous little boy peeing statue), drank a beer, got some fries smothered in sauteed onions and ketchup/mayo, and took the elevator to the highest parking garage in town and enjoyed the panorama of Brussels. Very relaxing.

As I was chilling in the hostel that night, I got an email from a CouchSurfer friend in Paris and he told me to just head there that night. So I made a last minute decision to hop along to Paris, cancelled my hostel reservation, booked a bus ride, and off I went to the City of Love.

Amsterdam, Continued...

I feel like I wrote way too little about a place I lived at for a week. So here are some more highlights that I need to write down, just so I don't forget:

- Taking the free ferry up the river and exploring greater Amsterdam with Alex. Finding a hidden pier and conquering it. Dropping a bag of tobacco in the water and hanging over the edge to get it back, Alex grabbing my arm.

- Walking around with a beer and getting stopped by a cop, who politely informed me that drinking wasn't allowed on the streets. "But this is Amsterdam!" I retorted, quickly gaining the attention of the three pedestrians walking past with joints in their hands, staring at the nearby prostitutes in the windows. Dumb rule.

- Playing MONOPOLY one night for four hours. Soooooo gay. I blame Alex and Antonio for this blot on my clean record of NEVER playing Monopoly.

- Enjoying long talks with new friends, Antonio trying to beg the hostel lady to forge documents for Alex, Antonio offending the hostel managers enough to get him fired, lol. So many memories...

Off to Amsterdam

Wanting to save even more money, I slept in the airport terminal that night, next to a group of bums (I am soooo not kidding this time). It was actually kind of fun. The security guards kept walking past making sure no one was causing trouble.

So I hopped on a plane the next morning and flew north to Amsterdam. It's hard to describe what I was expecting as I walked off that plane. I mean, Amsterdam has a reputation...and oh, what a reputation that is. I guess I was expecting a small hippie village full of pot-smokers and whores.

But as soon as I hopped on the train from the airport, I started realizing that things were different. The buildings were amazingly modern, the streets clean, and I couldn't even smell weed! The more I walked around, the more I started to love the city. The marijuana and hookers were just a small part of Amsterdam...it was full of canals, little parks, hot girls riding bikes...the works.

I found a cool little hostel about four canals away from the center. As soon as I walked in the door, I saw a sign..."Help Wanted: Clean Rooms and Stay for Free". My ears perked up as I instinctively made my Scoobie-Doo ARUUUGH?!?!

So I signed up immediately for the job. Turned out that they gave me a bed and three meals a day for working just a few hours each morning. It was a fun job. There were two other cleaners doing the same thing I was- a Romanian guy named Alex, and a Spanish guy, Antonio. We quickly became close friends over the smells of ammonia and bleach.

The food was great, the people were amazing, and I was set. After making a dozen or so beds each morning and vacuuming/mopping a bit, we set off to explore the town. Whether it be a beer in the park, a ride down the river, or grabbing a huge cone of french fries with mayo and walking down the Red Light District, life was good.

The city was very relaxed (prolly cause everyone was high). Actually, I heard a strange statistic that only 5% of Amsterdam residents smoke weed. It's mostly the tourists that do. It was interesting walking down the streets and getting a whiff of it here and there...quickly asking yourself, "Are they really doing that right there in public?"...and then instantly realizing that this was Amsterdam.

Naples and Pompei

We left Rome and headed south to Pompei, the city reduced to ruins by the ash cloud from Mt. Vesuvius erupting back in the day. We had alot of warnings from people telling us to be wary of southern Italians because they were very dishonest. And wary we were.

You could instantly see a change in attitude of the people down there. They just seemed...greasy. We found a parking spot and walked towards the ruins. Not wanting to pay the entrance fee, we just got a good look from the outside, lol. The ruins actually weren't that bad. Alot of it was still intact. We didn't see any petrified people though (but that's prolly cause we just stayed in the parking lot).

We returned to our car, half-expecting it to be on cinder blocks by now. We saw a t-shirt that read "I went to Pompei and all I have left is this stupid shirt" (totally made that up). We drove around for awhile and finally reached Napoli.

Naples was supposedly the birthplace of pizza. So naturally, we went straight for a pizzeria. The city itself was disgusting. Crowded and dirty streets, gross-looking buildings. But we found a cool hole-in-wall pizza joint down some random alleyway. The lady didn't speak english, but man could she cook a pizza.

It was more like one of those gourmet pizzas you would order. Nothing like an American pizza, huge slices covered in toppings. I think authentic Italian food focuses more on natural ingredients and cooking with love, not satisfying the hungers of their customers.

But seriously, it was great pizza. We got pictures to prove it. I had a lasagna pizza, covered in ricotta and herbs and sauce. Rachelle got a Nutella pizza for dessert (way too sweet). We left Naples with a good taste in our mouths.

We slept in the car that night at a gas station. Well actually, I was sick of sleeping in the car, so I slept on the asphalt with my sleeping bag (like a bum). It was actually quite comfortable.

The girls dropped me off back in Rome, and with many tears, we said our goodbyes and parted ways. The adventurer was alone once again.

Rome (Part Two)

Ugghhhh...my memory is failing (I'm in Brussels, btw).

The third day, we decided to go to the Vatican Museum. After hearing TONS of horror stories of people waiting 3 or 4 hours to get in, we decided to wake up early and beat the rush.

We didn't get up till 10am.

But no worries, gelatto fixes everything. After turning down numerous offers to "pay 50euros and skip the lines", we wandered up the street alongside the Vatican, gelatto(s) in hand. I started noticing that there was no one in front of me on the sidewalk, and was wondering if the museum was closed that day.

So I ran up ahead and found that NO ONE was in line to the Vatican Museum! Totally unheard of. I screamed to our group to hurry up before the crowd of people down the street beat us, and we raced inside. Didn't have to wait at all. And because of that, I think we all had a blast in the museum.

There were sculptures, and paintings, and more sculptures, and more paintings...and then there was the Sistine Chapel...Michelangelo's ceiling. It was actually quite small. And it was square-shaped, not a dome like I thought. AND, the "finger-touching guys" painting was TINY. We all had to use our zoom to get a good pic of it (I love how I'm being so critical of the most famous chapel on earth).

The guards kept shushing everyone repeatedly and kept telling everyone to put away their cameras. But come on, who's NOT gonna take a picture of the Sistine Chapel (especially when most of them waited for HOURS to get in).

After the museum, we started getting hungry. And it seemed like everyone was craving burgers. So we hit up McDonalds. "I bet I could eat ten cheeseburgers right now," I said. "I bet you 10euros you can't," challenged Rachelle. And that's how the ten cheeseburger challenge began. Ten minutes later, I stood smiling with a tray full of McDonald's cheeseburgers...wide-eyed employees staring. The first four were amazing. I hadn't had McD's in awhile. By number seven, I was feeling it. But like a champ, I broke past the wall and gobbled up those last three with pride and dignity (actually it was more like embarrassment and disgust).

That night, we just chilled again. The campsite bar was pretty lively. Highlights of the night: Gavin drunkedly yelling at the annoying French kids in the tent next to him, Gavin saying that he had made out with a guy for a free beer, and Gavin then stumbling over to the French camp and raiding their table full of french bread/wine/cheeses. Hahahahh, I love the British.

I don't think we did much the next day because the weather was turning to shit, and we were all tired of walking. I made a tiny fire in front of my tent and roasted hot dogs, most of us surfed the internet all day. We were all Rome'd out.

To Rome We Go

Oh man, where do I even begin?

We found another campsite (about two miles away from Vatican City), and found out that it was more like a miniature village than a campsite. There was a market, a swimming pool, tons of plots for tents and RV's, and even a restaurant/bar with real good food. We got a cool looking tent for three, complete with bunk beds and all. It was pretty cheap too.

Our first day we headed to Vatican City. It was full of picture-taking tourists (like us), eager to catch a quick glimpse of the Pope (Spoiler Alert: no Pope). There really wasn't much to do there that day, so we just took pictures and left, lol.

We spent the night just chillin and talking at the campsite, and awoke ready to start exploring. We met three British dudes who were staying at the campsite, so we formed a big group and decided to explore Rome together.

We started off with the Trevi Fountain (pictures in the albums). Legend has it that if you toss a coin into the fountain, you will return to Rome. If you toss two coins, you find love in Rome. Scared of ending up with an annoying fat chick, I opted out for the single coin toss.

We wandered around until we eventually found the Pantheon. Retardedly, it was under construction or something. As you can tell from the pictures, a whole half of the front entrance was obstructed by scaffolding. Not good for pictures. Apparently, the dome is constructed from one solid piece of poured concrete. This really won't amaze you until you're standing underneath said concrete, hoping it doesn't crumble and fall.

We wandered around some more and found Mussolini's Square, and the balcony from which he addressed the people. It was quite impressive. We climbed up the monument at the head of the plaza and gazed across most of Rome. Seeing the Colloseum in the distance, we headed straight for that.

We walked alongside the ruins of the Roman Forum and all those old rock things. Nothing much to say about that. But as we turned the corner, there towering over a totally out-of-place metro stop, stood the Colloseum...waiting for us to go inside and stand an hour in line.

But it was sooooo worth it. Inside the Colloseum you could see the infrastructure/tunnels used to transport the gladiators and animals to the ground-floor lifts. It was a huuuge stadium. Most of the "seats" were already torn down, but you could still imagine the enormous amount of people that used to fill this stadium up. There were tunnels, walkways, stairs...pretty much the same as a normal stadium.

We kinda just looked at all the rocks and stuff, then moved on to more ruins and stuff. We found some cave things that we think were gladiator homes, and we just kinda walked around and took pictures.

(If I sound like I'm writing this half-heartedly, it's because I really can't remember what happened two weeks ago, lol. But the pictures themselves tell a great story.)

Anyways, more rocks, more walking, and then it was dinner time. We got a little disposable grill at the store and roasted sausages and drank beer all night. Nothing special.

Pisa and the Coast

We awoke in the morning to something quite unexpected. The seemingly small and secluded gas station we had slept at turned out to be on the main thoroughfare out of town. And as we stepped out of the car and looked around, we saw acres and acres of daisy fields surrounding us, slowly fading away to the mountains in the distance. I would've traded a whole night's sleep for that view...oh wait, I did.

So we packed up our stuff, had a snack at the quick-stop, and headed off to Pisa. I know I describe the scenery a lot, but even the strongest adjectives cannot fully capture the feeling you get while driving through the Italian countryside.

We quickly found parking in Pisa, and were immediately accosted by street vendors selling totally random things (like a 20pk of tissue boxes and fake purses). As soon as they see your eyes dart towards their merchandise, they just explode into a frenzy of primal sales tactics. I even saw one guy put a hat on a kid and try to get the mother to pay for it cause the child was wearing it already. Insanely crafty and persistent.

We headed immediately to the Field of Miracles, the plaza where the Leaning Tower is (I totally thought it was supposed to be reddish-brick colored). We were instantly surrounded by a sea of tourists all trying to "hold up" the tower in the distance. I held off for as long as possible until curiousity got the best of me, and I just HAD to get a picture of me doing it. ;)

The tower itself was actually quite nice. It was pure white, had tons of intricate carvings, and the angle of its lean was actually quite impressive. Pictures really don't do it justice.

We left the square to find some lunch, and we ended up spending over an hour walking around looking for a grocery store. We finally found one and stocked up on meats, cheeses and beverages. Armed with my miniscule collection of Italian phrases and my classic charm, we slowly made our way back to the "Torre Pendente di Pisa".

And there we sat, about 20yds away from the tower, and had our little picnic. It was surprisingly uncrowded at this time. I guess no one else wanted to eat directly underneath the Leaning Tower. Psssshhhh...I totally trusted it not to fall.

After our lunch (and yet another gelatto), we went back to the car and headed for the coast. Our original plan was to drive down the shoreline to Rome, but along the way we found signs for a campsite and decided to check it out. We drove around the campsite and found that it was right on the sea cliffs, fully stocked with showers and a restaurant/bar, and a very nice beach down below.

We parked and walked down to the beach. I jumped off a rock into the water and nearly died of hypothermia (bad decision). So I had to lie on the warm rocks to unfreeze myself. We ended up all falling asleep there in the sun, right on the Western coast of Italy. So nice.

That night was interesting. We found a nice plot, and I set up my tent for one of the girls. We just drank and talked the night away. Nothing special. Except for Rachelle making a sandwich and not remembering it.

Florence

We left Venice early in the morning and headed southwest to Florence. Along the way, we passed through the city of Bologna, namesake of the famous luncheon meat (totally made that up). But there was nothing special there, so we just had a quick look around and then left.

Florence wasn't exactly breathtaking, but it definitely had it's charm. We drove around for about an hour looking for parking, because apparently the whole country is against giving tourists a free place to park.

We started walking around and found the main river winding through the town (it's funny how all these cities are built around rivers). The water here definitely wasn't as clean or pretty as it was in France, but it was still a nice view.

The city had bunches and bunches of monuments, statues, and old buildings. You could quickly get lost in it's winding, narrow streets. I walked around town with a kebab and a Heineken (I still get a kick out of walking around town with a beer). We didn't really do anything interesting there, just took pictures (so look at those if you want a better impression of Florence).

For dinner, we splurged on a decent Italian restaurant. I ordered two courses- lasagna, and their roast chicken and veggies. The lasagna was AMAZING. So creamy, so saucy, and served in a personal-sized stoneware pan. The chicken and veggies were also very good. Still hate Italian bread though.

That night we started driving towards Pisa. We got about halfway there and decided to try to find a nice place to sleep for the night. We ended up in a restaurant parking lot in the middle of nowhere, and Rachelle went in to ask for a hotel recommendation. The lady told us that there was a B&B a few miles down the road that was super cheap- like 30euros for all three of us.

So we finally find this B&B, and see that the logo on their sign is a picture of a ROACH. That, accompanied by a very creepy couple peering down at us from the third floor, gave us a pretty uneasy feeling about staying there.

But we walked up to the door anyways. We were welcomed by an extremely kind middle-aged Italian woman, her giant Great Dane, and the most delicious smelling cookies you can imagine. And the house was immaculate (maybe she just has a soft spot for roaches?).

But we quickly learned that the price estimate given to us earlier (by the not-so-trustworthy restaurant hostess) was not correct by any means. It was actually triple that price. So with many apologies, we had to turn down the nice lady (and her cookies) and head for greener/cheaper pastures.

So we finally came across an industrial park, and considering that this would prolly be the LAST place to get robbed/raped, we made camp underneath a giant sign for "Anaconda Plumbing" or something. Again...worst night of sleep imaginable. We actually had to move during the night to a nearby gas station because a semi-truck pulled up behind us and wouldn't leave.

Venice, Island of Islands

Whew, what a busy two weeks.

So I finally met up with Rachelle and Kayli in Milan. We decided that renting a car would be much more cost-efficient for three people than taking trains everywhere, so we piled into our tiny little Renault rental and headed off to Venice.

Two hours later, we finally found the highway.

But in spite of our little scenic route around Milan, spirits were high, and the ever-visible Alps served as our guide to the coast.

We drove across the Italian plains, through towering mountains and ridiculously lengthy tunnels, and we finally had the sea in sight.

What I failed to recognize from maps was that Venice was not connected to the mainland. It was nestled in the middle of a large lagoon, and a tiny two-lane highway was the only entrance/exit to the cluster of rocks which was Venice.

When we crossed over, the only public parking we could find was a large parking garage that charged 25euros to leave our car there overnight. So we headed up to the top floor and feasted our eyes on the world-famous city of canals.

People are serious when they say that the locals can only get around by boats and gondolas. From our vantage point, we could see no streets, no cars, and shit-tons of pedestrians. As we made our way down to the city, we happily got lost in the maze-like collection of alleyways and canals.

There were literally millions of tourists there. With a population of only 60,000 inhabitants, Venice was completely dominated by visitors. I don't even think that people actually had jobs there that weren't geared towards tourism.

The streets were full of pizza vendors and souvenir stands, the alleyways were littered with restaurants and small craft shops, and the canals were crowded with gondola drivers charging 120euros for a romantic float around the city.

We stopped at a small Italian joint for some dinner and spent a few minutes looking through the menu. After inquiring about free water, we could visibly see the waiter getting somewhat frustrated with us. After laughing a bit at the fact that the prices there were astronomical, we told the impatient waiter that we were still thinking about our drink choices...to which he replied, "I think you leave now. You come to play, not to eat. This is very rude in my country." And then he slammed the door on me and Rachelle, not realizing that Kayli was still behind him. So then he let Kayli out and slammed the door again. HAHAHHAAH, what a prick.

Anyways, every canal had it's own little uniqueness about it. And there were sooooo many tiny bridges connecting each island that it felt as if you were in an enormous playground for adults.

I can't remember how long we walked around the town, but the only impression I had when we left was pure amazement. Although there weren't many famous monuments or structures, the sight of a city traversed exclusively by foot and boat was amazing enough.

We finished our tour late at night, so we decided to just sleep in our car on top of the garage, looking over the city of Venice while it slept. Worst night of sleep EVER.

Milan (Part One)

Have you ever had the urge to fart, but didn't know if it was gonna be gas or diarrhea? I mean, they're both bad, but one is exponentially worse. I think that was the same feeling that the original inhabitants of Italy had when deciding whether or not to build the city of Milano.

This place is depressing. And it's not only the rain. I met a guy in Spain named Fabio Ferarri (not kidding), and he told me the exact same thing. He left Milan in hopes of finding a city that "had more of a desire to live". I think the word "suicide" was lost in translation.

Granted, this city is the fashion center of Europe. With the main branches of Armani, Gucci, D&G, etc. here, it's hard to really say that this city doesn't have any redeeming qualities. Especially with runway models walking around everywhere.

Everything is expensive here. My first night, I paid 35euros for a shit hotel. I've never stayed in a place where I have actually questioned whether or not it was a brothel. But it was run by a very nice Italian elderly couple who couldn't speak English, but insisted on rattling off in Italian to me. My mouth hurts from smiling so much.

Tonight, I'm staying at a slightly cheaper hostel, but not at all as cool as the last ones I've stayed at. I'm sitting here two beds away from an old, overweight man who snores like he's trying to keep bears away. And next to me is a black kid from India WITH A CASSETTE PLAYER. He would be an interesting character to chat with, but he keeps rewinding his cassette player to replay the same techno/rap song over and over again.

I ate a pizza today. It was actually pretty big. And it was thin crust. But again, I've been disappointed with Italian food so far. I mean, the portions looks generally small, and it's super expensive, and I honestly LOVE our American versions of these dishes. AND HOW THE HELL CAN YOU NOT HAVE ALFREDO SAUCE?!?!

Even the bread here sucks. It's hard, and dry, and they charge you for it at restaurants. They also have a "cover charge" for sitting down at restaurants. I mean, it's only 2euros, but it's ridiculous.

BUT...I did get some Sicilian cherry tomatoes from the grocery store last night, and I was really surprised. Let me put it this way- I don't like cherry tomatoes. They're too squishy, and they explode in your mouth like a cockroach. But THESE tomatoes...omigod.

They were like biting into the sweetest peach you can imagine. Juicy...but firm to the touch. And there were no seeds or gooey center. Soooooo sweet, too. Good job, Sicily.

Bergamo, Sister City of Greenville, SC

Well...sorry to let everyone down...but this place is NOTHING like G'ville. No Wade Hampton, no Dixie's, no Bi-Lo Center, and definitely no plaque that says "Sister City of Greenville, SC" anywhere. In fact, no one even knew they HAD a sister-city in the USA. How gay.

The town itself was actually nothing special. Just a normal city with buildings and people. I had my first Italian dinner there. Also nothing special. Did you know they didn't even have fettuccine alfredo here?! Apparently, alfredo is an AMERICAN thing! America - 1, Italia - 0.

There was a cool guy from Sweden named Erik who was staying in my hostel room. He was travelling alone too, so we explored the town a bit that night. We grabbed a few beers, and talked about our countries. Nice guy.

We also found a big gathering of people who were carrying torches and singing for Good Friday. We joined them of course, minus the fire-hazards. They were following the city "saint" though, who obviously needed a wheelchair or a cane or something, so they were creeping along the streets. We quickly got tired of the pace, and ran ahead.

While Erik was asking for directions or something, I kicked the ball around with some Italian kids in the street. They didn't like me...or my toe-kicking. So they stopped passing to me. Jerks.

Journey to Italy

So I left Germany a few days ago for Italy. The drive was beautiful. I found some carpoolers who were going down there. I hopped in their brand-new, silver Mercedes, and we flew down the autobahn going 200km/hr. What a nice relaxing drive, hahah.

We wound through the Alps, crossing enormous bridges over raging rivers. I did an Arnold Swartzenegger impression for almost the whole duration of our drive through Austria. They loved it.

We finally made it to Italy...a city called Verona. This is where they dropped me off. Interesting fact: Verona was the city which Romeo and Juliet took place in. Kewl. But I didn't feel like lingering, so I bought a ticket west to Bergamo.

I learned a very hard lesson that day...never forget to validate your train ticket in Italy. I was rushing to the platform, so I totally missed the little stamping thingie which puts a date on your train ticket. And the guy on the train fined me FIFTY EUROS...ON AN EIGHT EURO ticket!!! Uggghhhh...soooooo gay.

So needless to say, my first impression of Italy was somewhat tainted.

Munich and Fussen

Germany has been really cool for the short time I've been here. Most people speak English, and the food is amazing. Another thing that surprised me was this thing called Mitfahrgelegenheit.

It's this thing similar to carpooling, but you post your trip on their website, and people who wish to ride with you can call or email you. And considering that fuel prices and train prices are extremely expensive here, there were TONS of people using this site.

You could get just about anywhere in Germany from using this site. And normally you would pay about a third of the cost of a train ticket. So this is how I got my ride to Munich.

Munich was an interesting city. I must admit I didn't really walk around as much as the other places I've been to, but I got a good feeling for it. I stayed with a young German couple I found from CouchSurfing. They were cool. We spent the nights playing guitar and drinking beer till late.

One of the days, I bought a Bavarian Railpass which let me ride anywhere in Bavaria for 20Euros. So I took advantage of this and rode down to Fussen, home of the legendary Neuschwanstein Castle.

This was the castle that Walt Disney designed Snow White's castle from. It was definitely cool (pics on the site). And you will never guess what I found there!

What would be the most unlikely thing to find on a train heading to a small town in southern Germany??? People from Greenville, SC!!! I always keep my ear tuned in for American accents, just to start up conversations with people. And when I heard this mother and son talking with a southern accent, I just couldn't help it.

So we talked and eventually found out that we were both living in Greenville. They were quite nice. We toured the castle together and explored the town. Rather enjoyable.

Freiburg, Deutschland

Mmmmmm...I smell sausages already.

So my next stop was Freiburg. I stayed there for about 5 days with an old friend, Johanna. The town was FULL of bikes. I mean, there were more bikes than cars. Most people lived within twenty blocks of the city center, and gas prices are like $7/gal., so everyone bikes around there.

Remember how excited I was when i had my first French meal? Enter, stage right, German food.

My first German meal consisted of two huge 2" thick German-style porkchops, with a huge pile of these German noodley fry thingies, and a large gravy boat full of brown gravy to drown them in. Oh, and it came with a big side salad too.

I ate them slowly...savoring every delicious bite...washing it down with a nice, frosty German lager (which incidentally was cheaper than the water, hahah).

I also found bratwurst stands all over...soooo good. I think I liked the white veal/pork ones the best. Covered in mustard and ketchup, these puppies are to die for.

Besides the food, we did a decent amount of biking and walking around. The city of Freiburg wasn't huge, but there was still some nice historical things, and a nice hill overlooking the city. But mostly I enjoyed just having a place to be lazy at, for once. So I spent my days in Freiburg predominantly on the couch, hahah.

Au Revoir

France, the country of amazing bread, fine wine, unique cheeses, and even more unique people. It seems like everyone is very proud of their country...and they have the right to be.

I sat outside the train station for about two hours today waiting for my next train. I was randomly greeted by another traveller (although I think he was homeless) who was playing guitar in front of the station. He didn't speak much English, but the guy he was with served as our translator.

We sat there playing guitar and singing for almost two hours. I eventually busted out my harmonica and started belting out the five tunes I knew. Soooo fun. People passing by would always stop and listen for a few minutes before continuing. I felt free.

Anyways, eventually the man asked me the one question that most French people do: So do you agree that France is beautiful?

You see, if I was to describe America, I would use words like awesome or amazing. But France...France is beautiful.

I'm sitting here on my train to Germany right now. Usually, I sit facing forward to see what's coming. But right now, now I'm facing backwards...watching the beautiful countryside and mountains pass behind us, melting into the distance.

Goodbye France, I'll see you again in a few weeks...

Lyon (Part Deux)

So I finally met up with Marine, my new French CouchSurfing friend. She lived with her family about fifteen minutes outside of town in a small village right on the river.

I was greeted by an ecstatic father, who couldn't wait to speak English with me. Her beautiful mother had prepared an amazing five course French meal for us. And everytime my glass of wine went below the halfway point, Marine's father was quick to refill it, hahah. So cool.

REAL French bread is PERFECT. I just don't understand why we call our bland, run-of-the-mill bakery loaves "french bread". It is waaaaay better in France. We ended the meal with cheeses, and fruits, and more wine of course. And then her dad broke open an old bottle of cognac for me and insisted I finish the meal with a couple of shots. I love the French.

I spent the next day walking around town some more while Marine was in class. There was a huge park with a gorgeous lake, and even a zoo. The elephants were even DANCING for us. It was crazy.

I was sitting on a bench resting for a bit, when all of a sudden a little 4yr old French boy comes running up to me and very politely shouted, "Bonjour, Monsieur!" Totally made my day.

Lyon (Part One)

After a few days in Montpellier, I said my goodbyes and headed north to Lyon. I was supposed to stay with another CouchSurfing friend there, but I got in late. So I found a cool hostel up on the hill overlooking the city.

There was an amazing view of Lyon. I could see cathedrals, huge apartment buildings, and both of the rivers winding through town. Near us was a mini Eiffel Tower that was used as some kind of radio antenna or something. There was also a huge cathedral modelled after Notre Dame (I think).

I met a crazy Korean guy staying in my hostel room, so we explored the town together the next day. Lyon was full of statues and monuments. The city is centered between two amazing green rivers. I don't quite understand how the water gets this color, but it adds a surreal feeling everywhere you go.

Back at the hostel, I sat with a young Aussie woman who was a travel journalist for Lonely Planet, and was just beginning her tour of France for next year's guide. I totally envied her job. She even bought me a beer. ;)

Montpellier and CouchSurfing

Oops, I almost forgot I had a blog there for a moment...

So, I decided to try CouchSurfing for the first time, and boy am I glad that I did. My first experience was with my new friend Romain. I arrived around 3pm, and he immediately took me out for a snack. He had an old friend that worked at a pub that he frequented, so we decided to head there.

We were immediately present with a HUGE platter of french appetizers, all for FREE. They were amazing...succulent little meatpie thingies, flaky pastries, and tiny french burgers which melted in your mouth. I was already loving France.

Romain showed me around his city, full of history and beauty. I had an awesome time just walking around. I met a ton of his friends, all very friendly. His neighbor was from Africa, and he invited us over the first night for drinks and such. Very fun.

Romain lived with three other Frenchies in a rather large apartment. So funny. One of his roomies would always wake up to the same techno song, and you could hear him slowly getting ready to the beat of untss, untss, untss. I loved it.

My first day there I saw soooooo many cute French women. It was like Hawai'i almost. Totally not hairy, as the rumors describe.

Romain made us ratatoille for my last night. Uh may zing. Can't wait to make it when I get home.

Journey to France (Part Two)

I didn't sleep at all that night. I think it was the combination of the freezing wind and the fear of impending rape.

But as the sun rose, and I looked out of my tent to see the pines and thousands of white flowers, I felt refreshed. Just a little.

I packed up my gear and headed on. I can't remember how long I had been walking before the laziness got hold of me. I was taking a break standing on a bridge, and saw bus after bus leaving the town. Maybe I'll just go and check the prices.

Long story short, I caved in and just forked out the money for a train to the Spain/France border. I stopped in a small town called Portbou. It was centered around a small cove of the Mediterranean, and literally ONLY had old people walking around. I felt weird.

I hopped back on the next train, and when it arrived, I was stopped by a police officer at the gate. "Mey I hav yeurh passport pleuse?" he asked. I went berserk, and said "Is this France?!" He smiled and replied, "It iz beautiful, iz it not?"

I can't even describe to you how excited I was. I stared out the window of the next train in awe. I saw a little stream and was like, "A French stream!" We passed by a large vineyard and I was like, "French grapes!!"

Anyways, now I'm here in Montpellier chillin' with some CouchSurfing buddies. Gonna tour the town some today. Pictures to come...

Journey to France (Part One)

I walked halfway to France this week. What'd you do?

So I woke up Thursday morning at a friend's apartment in Barcelona, and I decided it was time to move on from Spain. So I took the metro to the edge of town, trusty backpack strapped tight, and I just started walking.

I walked past parks and streams, industrial areas and small villages, under highways and over bridges. It's an amazing feeling to just walk, knowing you have absolutely nothing better to do, hahah.

I took a break at a gas station, and while resting I tried to hitch a ride. But no one would pick me up. I felt so lonely. So I just continued my hike.

After hours and hours of trekking on, I started to second guess my decision. I had walked the whole day to cover the amount of highway that a car would make in half an hour. It was kinda discouraging.

Was I really saving that much money by doing this?

But just as I was about to give up, I saw it- a trusty walking stick. It was perfect....made of sugar cane and the perfect height. I picked up this item and instantly felt renewed. So I trudged onward.

And for some reason, after finding that walking stick, everything seemed beautiful again.

As night was beginning to fall, I started looking for a place to camp. I came across a couple acres of land, full of pine trees and white flowers, surrounded by three highways that formed a triangle. I figured it would be a safe place because literally no one else was walking to France.

So I found a nice patch of soft grass, set up my tent in the shadow of two pines, and had a croissant.

Barcelona (Day Six)

Scratch that. Still day five. I just didn't know what to call it. I actually DIDN'T take a nap after climbing that mountain yesterday. I decided that burning 6,000 calories just wasn't enough.

So after my rapid descent, I moseyed around to the coast. Barcelona is full of monuments, cathedrals and strange sculptures. Each one adds a unique feeling to its surroundings.

I sat under a palm tree to rest for a bit. The Mediterranean was two blocks away, looking as crystal green as ever. I watched two idiots trying to hitchhike on the main road. No one was even giving their frantic thumbing and sign shaking a second glance. Can't wait to try that tomorrow.

I came to the busy Las Ramblas again, and walked up the avenue surrounded by Arabs making weird noises with their mouths (I'm serious, they all had noisemakers in their mouths, dumb). I found the Boqueria Mercat, which is a huge indoor market full of meats and veggies and fish.

But I found a small Korean lady who was selling amazing combo plates (Becky, you're missing out), so I opted out for Asian food instead. I found a bench on the main street, and sat there talking to two German girls also visiting Barcelona. After exchanging stories, I continued on my trek.

I came across a huge fountain in what was considered the center of Barcelona. Huge jets shot skyward, billowing waves of cool water gushed over the edges. Legend has it that everyone who has taken a drink from this age old fountain has eventually returned to Barcelona at some point in their lives.

But I didn't want lepto, so I passed by...still thirsty.

I continued onward to the Sagrada Familia, an enormous unfinished cathedral designed by the architect Gaudi. He died back in the early 1900s, but they continued to construct his dream. It is apparently the WORLD'S most visited construction site. And you have to pay to go in.

I walked down the street some more and found a wannabe Arc de Triomf [sic]. It was reddish colored and in a horrible location. But it was still cool. I came across a park nearby full of young people sitting on the grass playing music. There were like ten different groups of people in drum circles. I felt like I was back in the 70s.

Then I walked down to the coast again, and nearly ran into a BUCK NAKED old man walking down the sidewalk! Ridiculous. I guess public nudity isn't frowned up here. I totally got a picture (I'll put it up later).

Barcelona (Day Five)

Rising above Barcelona's southern edge lies the intimidating Montjuic, a mountain with historical significance almost as big as my appetite. It was said that whichever regime controlled Montjuic would control the city.

Sounds like a challenge.

So I climbed to the top of this mountain, which was full of parks and winding trails, and at the top there was a huge fortress, seemingly impenetrable. Luckily for me there was a tourist entrance, so I strolled right in.

From the corner of the fortress, you could see all of the valley and around the coast. It was a beautiful view. I could see almost all of Barcelona's landmarks in just one glance. No wonder this was a strategic stronghold.

After playing king-of-the-hill with two big Germans and a rather large Spaniard (totally lying), I left the fortress and wandered around a bit. Eventually, I came across two archers practicing with eachother. They were shooting BULLSEYES at fifty yards. Very impressive.

After clapping and getting forced to leave (also a lie), I wandered around the mountain a bit more and found a track, a huge stadium, and tons of little stands and such. It was then that I realized that I was walking around the Olympic grounds from the Barcelona Summer Olympics. What a coincidence.

Mountain conquered, I decided to hike back down for some water and a nap.

Barcelona (Day Four)

Well, after the airlines lost my backpack, I wasn't exactly in the greatest of moods (or in the greatest of hygienic states). So I pretty much just chilled in the hostel with friends for the first couple days.

But now that my belongings have been returned, I feel up to exploring again.

We just returned from a four hour walk around the city. Saw the beaches and monuments, tons of street performers, and even people performing ON THE SUBWAY. There was an accordion player and a fiddler just belting out their tunes (and subsequently begging for money).

But even with all that walking, I feel like I've barely scratched the surface of Barcelona. One glance at a map yields hundreds of photo ops and must-see sights. So I'm glad I have a few more days here.

My posh British travel buddy went on his way around Spain yesterday, so I've been chillin with two Americans and an Aussie. They've been fun.

Hmmm...highlights of Barcelona so far? Gaudi Park, which is a huge park on top of the hill, full of cacti and amazing rock formations. It also had buildings by the architect Gaudi, which look like a cross between Dr. Seuss and something you'd see in Disney World. Very interesting, slash melty.

We were walking around Las Ramblas (kinda like their Main Street) last night, and found a cool bar that Vincent Van Gogh used to frequent. It was an oooooold bar. Looked like he may have painted the walls...before he learned how to paint.

And the Trip Goes on...

Dear Joey,

Where are you? I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

I can hear several voices which sound like lazy, incompetent Spaniards.

Please find me soon.

Love,

Your Backpack


Dear Backpack,

I'm glad we have been reunited. I missed you immensely. Mostly the toothbrush and shower stuff in your top pocket.

Remind me never to trust a small, ghetto airline with you again.

Joey

Palma de Mallorca

Imagine a beautiful Mediterranean island. Sunny, breezy, teeming with sealife/wildlife/nightlife. Imagine the crystal clear sky and pristine white sand beaches. Wish you were there?

So do I.

Welcome to the freeeeezing island of Mallorca. We took an expensive eight hour ferry to get here, and it was SNOWING when we arrived. Snowing. At sea level. In the Mediterranean.

My toes were numb after walking twenty minutes in my awesome (but totally inappropriate) crocs. We could barely muster up enough courage to leave the hostel. Totally retarded.

When we finally did leave, we walked around town a bit and realized that there wasn't much here. Maybe a huge cathedral here and there, but nothing like the postcards they were selling on the ferry.

The ferry was great, btw. It had a huge cafeteria, and a big bar area, and tons of VIP sections. I spent too much on the ticket to spend money on the scrumptious buffet, so I ate a cold spanish potato sandwich instead. Gross. But good. I have mixed feelings about that one.

Anyways, we found a cool English pub for dinner. Got their breakfast special, which was quite filling. And then stayed and hung out with old English men on vacation, screaming and swearing for their soccer teams. Quite entertaining.

Valencia (Part Two)

Anyways, everyone knows that Valencia is world-famous for their oranges. What they don't know, is that they only plant BITTER oranges throughout the city.

Just walking for ten minutes, you would see dozens and dozens of orange trees. And they really are quite nice. But imagine if the thousands of tourists were to pick one orange a piece. They would be bare.

Enter, the bitter orange. They look identical to the normal trees, except for a small bulge on the bottom of the leaves. And they are sour and disgusting. Good way to keep the oranges on the trees. And beggars on the streets.

So we explored the city a bit, enjoying the sun and the architecture. We met a few American girls that went on a free walking tour with us around the city. Got a ton of amazing pics. Met a European guy named Zuka, who apparently has been hitchhiking all the way from Eastern Europe, sleeping in caves and fields and such, and just being awesome. I was immediately envious.

We all went to a soccer game that night at the local stadium. It was PACKED. So many screaming soccer fans. Europeans sure do take their futbol seriously.

The next day we explored the small shops and markets around town, ate some huge strawberries, and made cheap chorizo sandwiches. Such is the life of a backpacker.

Valencia (Part One)

Me and Lucas took a loooooong bus up the coast towards Valencia. So much beautiful coastline up here. It has a totally different feel than the Pacific or Atlantic.

We got into town and quickly found our hostel about two miles away (that's considered close). It was somehow built in the same building as an old cathedral. Very strange to sit on the roof and see a huge steeple twenty feet away.

We got a city map and immediately noticed a huge river winding through the length of the city, but it was colored green on the map. So we headed off to investigate. What we found was a long park, about a hundred yards wide, running for MILES in the middle of the city. I mean, this was impressive enough. The park had soccer fields, and monuments, and all kinds of playgrounds.

Apparently in the olden days, they had to divert the river away from the city to prevent flooding. And before the construction crews could fill in the empty canal, the locals would come at night and plant trees and flowers in the middle of the dry riverbed. The next morning, the construction crew would uproot the shrubbery and continue. But the locals would come back at night and do the same thing.

Eventually, the construction crews gave up, and now they are left with an amazing, winding park, always a ten minute walk from wherever you are. Pretty cool.

Almeria - The Asshole of Spain

Well that's what the locals call it at least...

It actually wasn't that bad, considering that the streets were perpetually covered in dog feces.

The coast was amazing- clear green water, 10-mile long boardwalk, and alot of rude customer service people. There were a shortage of proper backpacker hostels (mostly likely due to the town's nickname), so we splurged on a decent hotel.

Not much really to say about the town (as evidenced by the lack of pictures), but it was a nice stopover for a day.

Granada, Flamenco, and Tapas Bars

So me, a British guy named Lucas, and a Canadian named Jeff decided to grab a bus to Granada for a couple days. We're staying at a cool little hostel called the Funky Backpacker. I think it's an old Arab apartment building. Pretty cool.

We've explored the town, saw the huge Muslim fort, and chilled with quite a few women. Granada has TONS of hot Spanish girls. It's unbelievable.

We went to a flamenco show last night in the gypsy caves. Sooooo cool. The room was more like a small tunnel about ten feet wide, with benches along either side. And the flamenco dancers would come dancing right in front of you, tapping their shoes and clapping their little clicky things, all while their twirling dresses kept slapping your shins.

The gypsies even sang while dancing. Very interesting show. I'm taking it up as a new hobby.

Another thing Granada is known for are their "tapas" bars. Apparently in the days of old, every beer would come served with a small appetizer on a tiny plate balanced ON TOP of your beer. They called these tapas, and they're FREEEEEEEE. With EVERY drink!

So instead of dinner, we went on a little tapas bar tour, and got full off all those little snacks. We had small pizzas, Spanish hamburgers, sardines on bruschetta, chicken skewers, and all kinds of things. And normally each beer/tapas combination is around 1-2 euros. Good deal.

Malaga Day Two

The second day in Malaga was amazing. The sun was hot, the beaches were warm, and there were a lot more ppl out. We all mingled at breakfast and decided to take a stroll along the coast.

So the six of us went along the beach of Malaga, drawing in the sand and playing on the playgrounds. We went window shopping in town and just chilled during the day.

We all made pasta for dinner back at the hostel, and added two French guys and two Irish guys to our entourage. They were hilarious. It's amazing how strangers become close friends over cheap bottles of Spanish whiskey.

We hung out that night, painted the town red, and chilled back at the hostel.

The next day at breakfast we were chillin' with these two British guys and found out that one of them was the child actor from The Mummy Returns. How random...

Fun in Malaga

So I headed towards the coast a few days ago to the town of Malaga. It was pouring down rain. So I had to walk about 4 miles with a poncho on to find my hostel.

I arrived to find my name scrawled on a chalkboard under a big welcome sign. I felt special. The hostel was directly across the street from the beach, and the room had balconies overlooking the Mediterranean. Not bad for 12 euros a night.

I walked into my room to find four of my roomies lazily lying in bed. So I did my best to rally the troops. There were three Canadian guys, two British girls, and a little Dutch girl. The hostel really did live up to its name- The Melting Pot.

Everyone was friendly. We went to the nearby grocery store and got a ton of frozen pizzas and cheap Spanish beer, then went back to devour our feast.

Later, we all decided to go out on the town. We were definitely a sight to see. The night ended with us walking home and each singing our countries' national anthems at the top of our lungs. Brilliant.

Seville Night One

Wow, what an amazing city. Seville is situated right along the winding Guadalquivir River (as if that should mean something to you). Towering over the city is the Catedral de Sevilla. It is the third largest cathedral in the world. Sounds like the perfect spot for an international incident.

My first faux paus came by way of a slightly gender confused german girl. Let me start from the beginning.

I was on the roof terrace of our hostel in downtown Seville, when I met this gorgeous eastern european girl. Being from a war torn and desolate region, she couldn't help but find herself desperately attracted to a young man full of charm and wit befitting of the most powerful country on earth (albeit, the one that destroyed her homeland).

So we hit it off, and decided to head to a local bar for drinks and such. She invited a couple of her roomies to come along, and we started walking around. After introductions, I casually commented on what I thought was an acute observation of the situation.

"Wow, Giovanna (I totally made this name up. Her real name had maybe 15 letters). You must feel pretty special being surrounded by your entourage of three guys."

Now normally this would illicit a tiny smile or a slight giggle. But all I saw was this european girl and her guy friend staring at the German guy in the group.

Uh oh.

So apparently short hair and guy jackets is all the rage in southern Germany, and I had totally missed the memo. Good thing I talk fast and I mumble, because she didn't look too offended. Guess the insult was lost in translation. Perfecto.

The Dog Shelter

It´s my second WorkAway so far. This time I´m helping a family that runs a dog shelter. They have about 16 or so dogs, some rescued, some here temporarily. They randomly sit next to me on the bench and smell my shoes. It´s funny.

I took a few of them on a walk yesterday. Got to see some of the Portuguese countryside. It is WINDY here. But full of rolling hills and eucalyptus pines. And this area is surrounded by GIANT wind turbines. It gives sort of a surreal atmosphere to this place.

These ppl have a garden with lots of fruits and vegetables. They have oranges, tangerines, lemons, portuguese sour plum thingies, etc. And the hostess is an amazing cook. It´s a good break from all the restaurants and bars.

But it´s getting a bit lonely here. No one my age for miles. You know me, I´ve never been that much of a loner. I´ll prolly head to Seville in a day or two...

Lisbon to Lagos

Well I learned a few hard lessons- if you don´t know where you´re going, don´t walk downhill right away. Especially with a 40lb pack on. I must´ve walked for three hours uphill. It sucked.

I had another go at hitchhiking out of Lisbon...no such luck. I waited for two hours. Lame. So I ended up just taking a bus to Lagos.

My first night in Lagos was cool. The hostel was very nice. But not very crowded, so it was a bit boring. Apparently, this is a huge tourist town in the summer. Lots of surfers and beachgoers come to visit.

But it´s SOOOOOO windy here! I mean, windy enough to blow a bottle of beer off the table! Crazy. And it´s been rainy too. I can´t wait for some sunny weather.

Hostel Life

I swear, I don´t think I´ll ever stay in a hotel again. There are so many interesting ppl at hostels.

The other night I was drinking with a German, an Australian, a British guy, and a guy from California. It was awesome. We stayed up till like 3am exchanging stories. And last night, me and two Irish guys watched old Eddie Murphie movies until late.

And these places aren´t bad AT ALL. Most of them have nice lobbies, and awesome common areas, and the rooms are always clean. One thing i don´t like though- shared bathrooms. I took a leak the other day, and heard a girl taking a massive dump. Disgusting. Enough said.

And most hostels have these folders with sightseeing recommendations and travel tips, so it´s informative as well. And they usually have bars with cheap drinks, and free breakfast.

Anyways, that´s my two cents for tonight...

Whew.

Wow, this is gonna be a long six months.

We arrived in Lisbon yesterday and walked around. Cool city, but not a whole lot to see. So I'm leaving tomorrow.

We took a day trip over to Sintra, which is a small town with a lot of castles. It was fun. The streets are so steep though! My legs are so tired.

Me and a friend were racing up the mountain to the castle, and he decided to take a shortcut through the forest. He got lost, lol. So we just met back at the hostel.

But the castles were amazing. So high up, so cold and windy, and so old. I got some great pics.

The food here is kinda annoying me. I feel like I need something with more substance. Like a Chinese food buffet. Mmmm...

I start hitchhiking to Lagos tomorrow...wish me luck.

Hmmm...

Well...I'm quickly running out of money jumping from small town to small town. So I think I'm gonna have to be a little smarter from now on.

Yesterday was a long day. We took a few buses, tried to hitchhike, paid for an expensive taxi, and had to find a farm with basically no directions. It was a nightmare.

We arrived in Coruche after dark, and were wandering around asking for this farm. The Portuguese ppl are actually very nice to strangers. We got some general directions and then started walking uphill for like 3 miles. We finally decided we were lost, so we stopped at a stranger's house to ask if they've heard of the farm we were heading to.

They called all their friends and family, got directions, and even had their brother (who was a local fireman) come pick us up and drive us over here. So helpful. And funny.

We just got done with dinner, some kind of stir fried pork with potatoes and clams. Soooooo good.

Coruche

Welp...we finally made it to Portugal. We're working for a Duchess on her farm/mansion. It's kinda cool. I'll post some pics later.

There's a guy our age here too from Belgium. He's working his way across Europe too.

I'm actually standing up by a window trying to get WiFi, so I'm gonna cut this one short.

Toilet Paper and Talavera

Two quick stories:

First of all, there is GREAT toilet paper here in Europe, even in the cheap hostels and the crumby bus stations. It's like really thick one-ply with alot of texture. Kewl.

Secondly, we were walking around Talavera yesterday and as we were resting on a bench, this lady came over and sat right next to my friend Mauricio. She looked homeless and she reeked of alcohol, so we didn't wanna talk to her. And when she spoke Spanish, Mauricio faked an American accent and was like "No speaka. Only English. No comprende." (I almost lost it cause we always joke around in that voice back home)

So she just sat there quietly rummaging through her plastic grocery bag. AND THEN, she pulls out a can of sardines in hot sauce!! And she has a long wooden kitchen spoon! AHAHAHAHAHH! She tried to open the can, but her fine motor skills were a bit lacking, and she ends up spraying hot sauce all over the bench, her leg, and Mauricio (who promptly but politely scooted to the opposite side of the bench and tried to sneak away). Very funny. Guess you had to be there.

Autobuses and Beer

Well, we spent most of the day in bus stations and small towns. There was a ton of cool mountains and villages, but nothing extremely picture worthy.

After being in bus stations all day, we finally made it to Caceres late tonight and found a decent looking hostel in town. So expensive though, like 23 euros. But it was good because the town looked a little dangerous and we just wanted to find a place quick.

We walked around a bit after ditching our bags, and we found some more cool small bars and restaurants. One thing that I have been noticing is the beer sizes here. They don't use English units, so the "pint" doesn't exist! Instead they have a smaller like decalitre or something. It's basically a small glass a little smaller than a normal soda can. Lame. I miss America where everything is bigger and better.

Anyways, we watched some dorks play pool and darts, and thought about making some bets with them, but decided not to. Then we just chilled with some cheap alcohol in the hostel and watched tv. Didn't meet any more fellow travelers today, just a bunch of old Spanish people.

Anyways, I'm being inseparable from my laptop...as always. We're visiting the caves in Caceres tomorrow, and heading to Lisboa later for a WorkAway job.

Buenos Noches.

Trains, Castles, and More...

A lot has happened since breakfast. Seriously. It feels like I have been over here for weeks already, but it has barely been 30 hours. I wish I could explain the camaraderie that travelers feel for eachother. It's like you instantly have so many things in common.

Well after my early breakfast today, I took a walk around the plaza in dt Madrid. So nice not having to be the one rushing to work. I just wandered around looking at statues and buildings. There are NO street signs though. Sometimes the names of the streets are painted on the sides of buildings. So weird.

I met back up with another backpacker at the hostel, and we decided to walk around the city more. We walked down tiny streets, waved at beautiful Spanish girls, and then got the strange feeling that it was time to move on.

Good thing we didn't have an itinerary.

So we ditched our bags at the train station and took the Metro to the soccer stadium. It was massive. We didn't go inside though cause the line was way too long. And it totally wasn't worth 18 euros.

We stopped at this small shop for lunch. I had this thick, fried quesadilla filled with these delicious potatoes and sauce. And the BEST bread ever. So good.

I think my stomach is shrinking. Cause there's no way I would've normally been full from that.

We slowly made our way back, in light snow, to the train station. We got tickets to a medium sized town called Toleda, south of Madrid. It's an amazing town FULL of castles. Actually, the whole town is built around a massive castle on a hill surrounded by high walls. It looks extremely intimidating.

We must've seen dozens of castles and walked around for miles before stopping for food. We found a cool Lebanese shop that had these HUUUUGE slabs of pork and chicken that they shaved to make sandwiches. They stuffed all this meat, along with lettuce and tomatoes, between two of their perfectly toasted fresh bread slices. It was divine.

Anyways, we also found a cool hostel that was built inside an old castle. I'm heading outside right now to take some more pics.