More Parisian Fun - Then Londo - Then REALLY Dondo

The last few days we spent in Paris involved a lot of wandering and sightseeing, which is where we passed this creatively named bus. One other cool thing we saw was The Beaches, which is done every summer in Paris. Along the Seine they unload tons of sand and set up beach chairs and chaise lounges, and even have foosball and awesome water misters that were just what we needed on the hot summer days.

A big highlight of Paris was out last evening there. Someone recommended we check out the Fat Tire Bike Tours that take you around the city, so we decided to check it out. After we met a big group of tourists like ourselves under the Tour Eiffel, we headed to the office to get our bikes.

We took the beach cruisers all around the city, stopping occasionally to learn different facts about Paris, like where Marie Antoinette was held in jail before she was beheaded, how Notre Dame was cleaned after the French Revolution, and where Johnny Depp lives. We even rode all through the outside areas of the Louvre, around I.M. Pei's pyramid and through the Jardin de Toulliere.

At the end of the ride we ended up at the Seine where we boarded a boat that took us up and down the river. Our guides even provided wine for us to enjoy as we went along, and we got to see the Eiffel Tower lit up as it does every hour on the hour. It was a really great way to spend the last night of our visit.

The next day we got on the Eurostar and made our way back to London to stay with Lisa and Gavin for a few days before getting back to the states. While there we got to check out central London, have some beers at various pubs, and met up with the same friends we saw on our first pass through England.

2 days later we were on our way back to New York, and our journey was officially over. I'm sure there were plenty of details that I've left out in all of these blogs, but I have a feeling our days of travel aren't over. Something about seeing new things just makes you crave more new experiences, so check back one of these days to find out what we'll be up to next...

Gay Paris!

Paris has been a dream so far, and as I write this we’re only halfway through our time here. Our last drive in the old Peugeot was an easy one, and we made it to our hotel without much trouble. We’re staying in Montparnasse in the southern part of Paris, and we have a great little neighborhood that we’ve been getting to know well.

Our first big adventure here was returning the car to the airport, which sounds like a breeze, but was not. I now know Charles de Gaulle airport like the back of my hand. After dropping off the car we visited Notre Dame, then walked along the Seine, past the Louvre, by the Opera, and back around to the Arc de Triomphe. Lots of walking that day, so needless to say, we were pooped. We had a late dinner and called it a night.

Another of our days here we went in search of Jim Morrison’s grave. Just to set the record straight, neither of us were crazy desperate to see the grave like so many who’ve visited before, but we felt like wandering and it sounded like an interesting adventure. Turns out, not so interesting after all. As we wandered through the cemetery, it was pretty clear that a lot of people were headed to the same place we were (it was the most crowded cemetery I’ve ever visited - live people, that is). As you round the corner to his grave, the first thing you see is a security guard. The second thing you see is a metal barrier. The third is lots of people.

I had seen pictures of the grave before, and I knew there was a bust of Mr. Morisson and graffiti covering the whole thing, as well as headstones around it. Now the bust is gone, the headstones are clean, and there is nothing setting it apart from the rest of the graves (besides the crowd). Apparently just after he died people were camping out there, writing all over his and other headstones, and generally making a mockery of an otherwise somber and respectful place, so there is plenty of security now.

After that we headed into Montmarte, past the famous Moulin Rouge, and over to a movie theatre for a little American therapy in the form of Hancock, which turned out to be a pretty good movie.

Monday we spent having a picnic below the Eiffel Tower. It was just me, Bill, and hundreds of other people. It was a beautiful day after several overcast ones, and it was such a great setting for a picnic, so I didn’t even mind being overrun by other tourists.

Yesterday we ventured outside of Paris to EuroDisney! It was kind of on a whim, and it ended up being so fun. We went to the EuroUniversal Studios adjacent to the park for some rollercoasters and overpriced burgers, and then into EuroDisneyland for more rollercoasters and overpriced food. EuroDisney is set up just like the one in Anaheim, but all the rides are the slightest bit different. It’s just not the same to hear pirates speak french.

Today was another great day; after a long breakfast we made our way to the Catacombs, which are right near our hotel. The story of the catacombs is that people were mining underneath Paris for stone to build up the city, but around 1815 it was prohibited. A few years later people living around a particular cemetery were contracting fatal diseases from it (hate to think of what the cemeteries of old were like), so it was exhumed, and all the bones of the dead were placed in the mines.

As you can imagine, it’s pretty creepy, especially when you’re walking through the dark, underground hallways with a boyfriend that enjoys scaring the bejesus out of you. Anyway...after several meters of dugout hallways you come to the entrance of the ossuary, and inside are the bones of literally millions of people. The hallway width varies, but it’s about 5 feet across, and the walls are about 5 feet high, lined with femurs and skulls in interesting designs. Behind that you can see all the rest of the other types of bones piled up and held back by the aforementioned femurs and skulls. These hallways go on for probably a quarter of a mile, with a small altar every now and then where they said a mass for those whose final remains were being placed in certain areas.

On our way out a security guard asked to check my bag, since I guess people steal bones? Eew. Anyway, seeing all those bones makes you work up an appetite, so Bill and I went to lunch, and ordered a big pile of ribs. Just kidding.

The Chateau in Bordeaux

We left Pamplona in a hurry with no place to go in Bordeaux. We pulled into town and ended up staying in an airport hotel that was awful. By some stroke of luck Bill found on the internet a Chateau just outside the city that was available for the next few days so we moved on quickly.

We drove north of Bordeaux through Bourg into serious wine country and the small town of Plassac. Our first view of the Chateau was from down below, and all we saw was a beautiful white castle. We drove up a narrow road and pulled into the Chateau Bellevue, which was even more immaculate up close.

We met Petra, a German living in France, who has owned and renovated the Chateau for about 8 years. It only opened as a bed and breakfast in April, so we were one of the first visitors. Also staying there was Petra’s daughter Mirja, her boyfriend Sebastian, and Petra’s friends Sabina and Jorg, all of whom were helping take care of the B&B in the first few months of its operation.

After we settled in we drove to nearby Blaye, where there was a weird carnival/festival that was pretty much deserted. Further along is the citadel which was built by one of the Henrys (VIII? XVI? Who knows?) to protect the shores of France, but now serves various purposes, like serving wine and crepes, and providing a beautiful setting for horse-jumping competitions. As you can guess, we drank some wine, ate some crepes, and watched a bit of a horse-jumping competition.

The next day we got a bit more adventurous and drove to St. Emilion, a small town about an hour away. While there we wandered the streets, did a little wine tasting, and watched as the Tour de France raced along. We ended up getting caught in the rain, so we headed back to our little Chateau.

The following day was French Independence Day, and Petra recommended that we follow them to a dune on the beach just south of Cap Ferret. We drove through a redwood forest and made our way to a huge dune (I’ve now seen a total of 1 dune, so I can only guess it was huge). From the top you can see the forest on one side, then straight down the middle it could be the Sahara, and on the other side were the clear blue waters of the Atlantic.

That evening they invited us to join them for a barbecue, and by this point it was just the 7 of us staying at the Chateau and the adjoining house, where Petra lives year-round. We had a fantastic dinner under the stars, and around 11:00 we heard the fireworks begin. We all made our way to the tower, which is the highest point of the Chateau, and could see at least 6 sets of fireworks going off along the horizon. It was a great night, spending French Independence with our new German friends.

The following day we drove back into Bordeaux for a bit of window shopping. There are so many stores there and so much to see, it was a lot like being in a large outdoor mall. The city is beautiful though. Bill and I had thought Bordeaux would be a small village lined with wineries, but the actual city is quite large and has been under renovation for some time, so it’s almost as bustling as Paris.

Wednesday was our final day at the Chateau, so we spent the morning at an outdoor market in Blaye, picking up food for a final barbecue before we left. When we got back we had nothing to do, so we did a whole lot of nothing. Just a bit of reading, sipping gin and tonics, and chatting with the Germans. We had a fantastic last dinner, complete with wine from the Chateau’s vineyard, and stayed up late in the night talking and enjoying what would surely be our last calm night in the country before moving onto Paris...

Pamplona: Not a Good Place to be If You're a Bull

I was going to title this one ‘Into the Madness: The Story of Pamplona,’ but after the bull fights Bill recommended this one that just seemed to fit. We went to Pamplona in time for the first day of the San Fermin festival, which honors some saint I’m not aware of with drinking a lot and killing bulls.

I’ll start at the beginning. Bill and I stayed just outside the city center and took a bus in on the first day of the festival. We wandered around a small area where the bus dropped us off and found some food that is native to the area, as well as some shops where we could buy the appropriate clothing (white shirt, white pants, red scarf, red sash). I thought to myself, ‘how lovely, this isn’t at all as crazy as I expected.’ Then we crossed the street.

Across the street and down an alley or two, we realized what we were in for. Crowds of people cluttered the narrow streets, all of them purple from being doused with sangria, which is apparently the thing to do. It’s actually so acceptable that when people dump buckets of it from balconies onto the masses no one really minds. All through the streets it was the same thing, people everywhere, wet with sangria, giggling like idiots. It was wonderful.

We ended up in a square where there was a little more room to breathe, and met some other travelers that we ended up hanging out with most of the night. Of course, Bill and I wanted to take part in the traditions of the festival, so we got some sangria, and before long we were involuntarily showered with purple by our new friends. It was a really fun night, but only until I realized I had been pickpocketed. Someone took off with my wallet, which totally sucks, but could’ve been worse. Moving on...

We got up nice and early the next morning to see the running of the bulls at 8am sharp. We left our hotel around 7, and reached the run at about 7:45. Unfortunately we were too late to get a good spot, but Bill held me on his shoulders, and I was able to see the back of one of the bulls. It was pretty anticlimactic.

The second day of the festival was much quieter, in fact, as we wandered away from the run there were people asleep all over the city. During the festival everything everywhere is closed besides liquor stores. There are no restaurants, no clothing stores, no grocery stores, nothing. It’s almost as if everyone just closes up shop and gets out of town. We were lucky enough to come upon some awesome paella though, so that kept us busy most of our second day in Pamplona.

That evening we got our tickets to the bull fights for the following night. We were pooped from a long day of eating and standing around so we decided to go to bed early and get up in time for the running of the bulls on the following day.

This next morning we were out of the hotel by 6:30 and made it to the run nice and early. There wasn’t much of a crowd, and Bill let me sit on his shoulders once again, so I got a decent look at the run this time. It was again pretty anticlimactic. The bulls come through at a slow trot surrounded by steer that keep the pace for them, and runners can easily avoid being gored by simply moving out of the way. I’ve heard it’s more treacherous toward the end as the bulls pick up speed on their way into the arena, where they run around with humans that taunt them. But we didn’t get that far.

We went home for a nice long nap before the bull fight that evening, and came back in time to check out the Ernest Hemingway statue just outside the arena. We made our way in and found our seats in the shady half of the arena. The sunny half is cheaper and much rowdier - pretty much the entire crowd across from us was covered in the telltale sangria purple.

The bull fights started promptly when several matadors accompanied by men on horses stepped into the ring to bow. When the arena was finally cleared the bull came charging out of a tunnel with some kind of tag stuck into it’s back, and we could see shining blood dripping from the spot. About 6 matadors take turns getting the bulls attention and then running behind walls that seem to really confuse the bulls. Eventually two men on blindfolded, armored horses make their way into the arena to distract the bull, and more often than not, the bull would ram the horse while the man stabs the bull with a long spear. Eventually the main matador makes his way out to the center of the arena with two short spears, and as the bull runs for him he quickly stabs it in the back and avoids the horns. He does this maybe 3 more times, until the bull is covered in blood with these spears sticking out of it's back.

Finally the matador faces the bull one on one with the infamous red cape. A good matador is one that doesn’t move his body, only the cape as the bull approaches. He keeps the bull going this way for about 5 minutes before brandishing a sword. The matador prepares for the bull to charge and just as it gets near enough he stabs it right between the shoulder blades. If the matador is a good one, the bull will die quickly, if not, they have to use several swords to finally kill it. The hardest part to watch is when the bull finally collapses to the ground while still fighting to stand. As it lays there another matador approaches it and stabs it several times quickly with a short knife right behind the ears. At the end 4 horsemen come out, attach the bull to a rope, and pull the lifeless body out of the arena.

There were actually 6 bullfights in the 2 hours that we watched, so we saw this process several times. They all went pretty much the same way, but the second matador was slightly gored (or maybe just grazed) on the side of his face, and was so sloppy he had to stab the poor bull 4 times before it finally died.

I respect that this is a tradition that’s been going on for years and years, but I don’t think I’ll ever need to watch it again. It’s hard to see an animal that doesn’t stand a chance slowly die a painful death. Bill and I were also surprised at how irreverant the atmosphere was. We expected the type of bull fights described by Hemingway where people are respectful of the bull and the tradition, and we were instead met by people dumping sangria on one another and impromtu marching bands playing college fight songs. It ended up being a pretty depressing experience, but one I’m glad we had.

Sitting just a few seats away from us were some of the people we met the first night of the festival, so we joined them for another evening that took us back to the first plaza for some fireworks, and onto some bars around the area. We met even more travelers, some that had hiked 500 miles on the St. James trail through Spain, and a few random people that just flew in for the festival. It was a late, fun night, and it made for a tough morning as we moved onto Bordeaux...

San Sebastian

San Sebastian is on the north coast of Spain, pretty close to the French border, so we had a long day of driving before reaching this beautiful little beach town. Little is definitely the right word too, it’s basically one long beach with a few blocks of city behind it.

We stayed at a hotel up a(nother) hill that had a great view of the bay. From there we took a lot of walks down to the beach, pretty much always searching for food. Unfortunately it was pretty rainy everyday that we were there, so we had to find other things to do besides enjoy the beach.

One day we went to the aquarium, which is very cool, though very small. The main attraction is a huge tank with sharks, turtles, stingrays, eels, and various fish that has a walkway through it, so you feel like you're underwater. Besides that, there are about 8 tanks of water for you to look inside with seahorses, jellyfish, and tropical fish. We saw the whole thing in about 15 minutes, so we just hung out in the underwater walkway for a while to get our money’s worth.

Another day we dedicated to doing our laundry, which was way overdue. It took a while, but we kept busy checking out local bars and their versions of tapas, some not so good.

Most of the nights after dinner we found ourselves at an outdoor bar that overlooked the bay and watched the tide come almost all the way up the beach. The view is superb - there are two sort of mountains that form the ends of the “C” that makes the bay, and between them there’s an island thats inaccessible by land. On the mountain to the right there’s a huge statue of Jesus (or so I think, we never made it all the way up there) that’s lit up until late into the night, and on the other two points we could see lighthouses flashing just the slightest bit in our direction every few moments.

Our crowning glory day was the only day that it was really sunny and warm, and it also happened to be the 4th of July. We made our way to the beach with deli stuff to make sandwiches and a little sangria. We spent a few hours just laying in the sun, sometimes diving into the cold Atlantic, but mostly just soaking up the good weather.

All in all, I would say that San Sebastian is a pretty great place to visit for a nice, quiet couple of days. Just make sure to check the weather patterns before you go.

Hola Barcelona!

I speak Spanish pretty fluently (I like to call it restaurant spanish) so on our way to Barcelona I asked Bill if there were any words or phrases he’d like to learn to say in spanish. He thought a minute and then asked how you would say, “Your offer flatters me, but I have a girlfriend.” Funny guy.

We made it to our hotel which was located on a street just off Las Ramblas, right near the marina and close to the center of the city. We were pretty exhausted when we got in, but we didn’t hesitate to get our hands on some sangria and tapas.

The second night we were there we learned that it was the San Juan Festival that same evening. Apparently this holiday is celebrated with lots of fireworks along the beach, so Bill and I decided to take a walk over there. All along the 20 minute walk we saw small explosions and flashes of light right on the street as people lit various fireworks.

When we finally got to the beach it was more insane than we could’ve imagined. There were people all over the beach, with small open areas where people were lighting fireworks. By people I actually mean young children, as there were literally toddlers lighting fireworks and tottering away. We were shocked that we didn’t hear more ambulances or see any limbs shot off. It was quite a sight.

The next day we found our way to La Pedrera, an apartment building created by Gaudi, that basically looks like a crazy jello mold was frozen in time. We were able to take a walk through one of the apartments as it would’ve been furnished in the 20s, then we went through the attic, and onto the roof. The whole building is so innovative and original, I’ll try and get some photos up here soon.

A few days after we arrived we met up with Bill’s cousin Tim, who was in the area for a genius convention or something like that. He was actually at a science conference his boss at Harvard, where he’s earning his PHD, sent him.  The timing worked out great for us to meet up with him.

It was so great to meet up with Tim. Right off the bat we took him down to the beach for his first dip in the Mediterranean. I don’t know if he was more excited by the sight of the beautiful beach or the huge number of boobs that can be seen along the sea coast. Either way, he enjoyed the beach, as did we. It was a quick stop before we took him to what we grew to think of as “our” tapas place for some good food and even better sangria.

That night was the (semi? quarter?) finals of the Euro Cup which saw Spain play some other country that I can’t seem to remember. Obviously it was riveting. It’s actually not so bad watching soccer, I hate watching just about every other sport, but this one is so straight forward - ball into goal. Besides that it lasts 90 minutes, more or less straight through; it’s not like football where the clock stops every 3 or 4 seconds. Also, we were in Spain watching Spain beat those other guys, so there was a lot of adrenaline in the bar we sat at which always makes a game more fun to watch.

The next day we rented bicycles and rode around the city. Our first stop was Sagrada Familia, a cathedral by Gaudi. As you can imagine, Bill and I were all Cathedraled out by this point in our trip, but this one is like nothing else.  Building commenced in the late 19th century, and won’t be done for a LONG time as it is built on donations, which at 8 Euro a person aren’t going to get them anywhere. It’s difficult to describe the cathedral, I'll throw on lots of photos, but what you need to know is that it will eventually be about twice as tall, and it is gorgeous.

After Sagrada Familia we took the bikes to Parque Quell, which is at the top of a very steep hill. I went ahead and stopped when I started seeing white spots and just walked the rest of the way, but Bill and Timmy, both gluttons for punishment, went almost the whole way. This park was also designed by Gaudi, and almost all of it is characterized by mosaics and various tributes to nature, as is so much of his work. If it weren’t for all the annoying tourists taking the same pictures, this park would be all kinds of awesome.

The next day was the day of the Jack Johnson show, which Timmy got us tickets for back in the states. It was at the Olympic Stadium, or so we thought, so a few hours before the show we decided to hoof it over, up another ridiculous hill. We walked for almost an hour before reaching the stadium, which was surprisingly empty. Yes we were an hour or two early, but we thought they should at least have a stage erected by now. A little asking around in broken spanish, and we learned that we were on the wrong side of Barcelona.

We set off down the hill in a different direction toward the subway, and while we were racing we still had time to take in the Olympic Stadium, the Palace (museum maybe? No time for details), and the Magic Fountain. Finally we made it to the subway, and were lucky enough to get on a train with other Jack Johnson fans that we could follow to the concert.

The concert itself was great - it started right on time with Mason Jennings who played solo on an acoustic guitar for about a half hour. After that was G. Love and the Special Sauce who put on a lively, energetic show. Finally Jack Johnson came out and played a nice long set, almost 2 hours by the time he took his final bow. It was so fun seeing one of my favorite artists in a foreign country with Bill and Tim, I’ll definitely remember it as a highlight.

The next day we said goodbye to Tim, but not before we took another trip to the beach. We were lucky enough to get hot weather the whole time we were in Barcelona, so the beach was a great relief. Also a great relief was finding burritos, which I’ve been craving since about a week into our trip.

Anyway, after we walked Tim to the subway we got some food and went back to our room to watch the final game of the Euro Cup - Spain versus Germany. Of course Spain won the whole thing, so we headed out to the streets to see just how mad it got there. Turns out, everyone was pretty excited! People were all over Las Ramblas, yelling and screaming, taking off shirts, dumping stuff on one another, climbing on stores, cars, and streetlights, and generally expressing their happiness of the Spanish victory.

It was pretty cool to be in Spain on such a big night, and it was a perfect end to our visit in Barcelona. The next day we hit the road yet again.

Nice is Nice but Monaco is Marvelous

The south of France has been good to Bill and I. We started out a little dismayed, but ended up stumbling upon some adventures and unexpected fun.

Our hotel was kind of a crap-hole, to put it nicely, and it wasn’t in a great part of the city. Our first night there we couldn’t seem to escape what we called the T-zone, or touristy area, and we were pretty sure we were going to hate this little city. When we finally got out to see the sights we were a lot happier with our predicament. Nice is a beautiful little town with lots of art all over and a sea side that is welcoming and beautiful.

Our first big venture out was to Monaco, also known as the most hoity-toity place on earth. We showed up mere mortals to a place where a bentley reeks of poverty and a yacht that doesn’t have maids isn’t quite ostentatious enough. Bill and I obviously fit right in. We took a long walk around the marina which was filled with the most ridiculous boats I’ve ever encountered. Most of them had a hot tub and numerous jet skis, and all of them had people hanging off all sides to clean them.

We made our way over to the beach area and saw that they were offering parasailing. I’ve always wanted to go and Bill had been once before, and we thought, when are we going to get the chance to go parasailing in Monaco again? So we made a reservation for the next day. For the rest of our day in Monaco we checked out Monte Carlo, bet and lost 2 euro, and drank 2 $15 Coronas.

Blah blah blah, on to the parasailing day.

When we got there the woman was sewing up our parachute. I was already nervous enough, and this put me just a little over the top. For those of you not familiar with parasailing, the person (or personS) parasailing are towed behind a speed boat with a parachute behind them that lifts them several stories in the air.

Mind you, I’m a wee bit afraid of heights and way more than a wee bit scared of open water, but I knew I had to do this or regret it forever. After the parachute was fixed(!) Bill and I were strapped into harnesses that were then attached to the parachute so we could go tandem. We were placed at the back of a platform that would inevitably spit us into the sea behind the boat we were tied to, and then we were told to hold onto a bar above our heads with one hand, and onto the rope for the parachute with the other. Our guide told us to just watch the boat, run with it, not too fast, but not too slow, and also, good luck.

Bill and I stood poised with our left feet in front of us, me holding on dearly to the appropriate places, and Bill smiling like a goof. As the boat took off so did Bill and I, running about 6 paces before being pulled off the platform and into the air. It was amazing how quickly we gained height, as soon as we were off the platform we were floating up with the parachute.

As nervous as I had been, once we were up I was sold. Parasailing is one of the most exhilerating (while still relatively safe) things in the world. It was amazing to be so high up in the air, over clear blue water, looking over the beach in Monaco.

As you might be able to tell, this experience was one of the highlights of our trip, for me anyway, so far. I think Bill would agree, it was pretty awesome.

We still had a few days left in Nice, and we took advantage by eating some great seafood and hanging around the beach. Our last night there happened to be the same night as a music festival. Throughout the day bands were setting up on various corners of random blocks, and by the time the sun went down there was live music wherever you walked. It was a great night for hearing music and doing a bit of people watching. Bill and I walked down to the beach which is close to the heart of the city, and there were hundreds of young people hanging out on the pebbly beach and the boardwalk above it. Over the sea the huge harvest moon was rising and reflected a bright orange strip on the Mediterranean. The whole night was memorable.

Before we left for Barcelona (where I sit writing this) we found out that there would be another music festival here this evening and from our hotel right off las Ramblas I can hear a drummer warming up, so I think I’ll say good-bye for now...

Cinque Terre

We made it to Cinque Terre pretty easily, it was just a few hours’ drive to Riomaggiore, the southernmost of the 5 towns that we were visiting. Once we found our hotel we took a walk down to the water. Wow. Every direction you can see there is clear aqua water that splashes up against layered rocks. Further inland these same rocks support multi-colored, multi-story buildings that seem to rest on top of one another. It’s really pretty amazing to see in person, I don’t think any of our pictures will do these cities justice.

After an evening of settling in we woke up early to hike from one city to another, a common practice in Cinque Terre. We made the first hike from Riomaggiore to Manarola easily - the path is paved and doesn’t move up and down as (we would learn) the others do.

The second stretch from Manarola to Cornelia was closed for the day due to storms causing the path to be obstructed, so we just took the train about 2 minutes up the coast. The next bit of the hike from Cornelia to Vernazza was noticeably tougher. The terrain is less reliable, lots of loose rocks and muddy puddles, and the path leads up and down hills, so that one minute your wishing for relief from the upward climb, and the next your legs feel wobbly from a steep descent. As difficult as the hike was, the views more than made up for it. Vernazza is gorgeous, and right in the middle of the city is a marina which is flanked by an old church (where a wedding was taking place) and a sort of fort that looks out to sea.

We thought the worst was over with our last hike, but wow were we wrong. The hike from Vernazza to Monterosso was probably the most difficult, if only because we had already been hiking for several hours. It’s a lot like the previous trail, but there are quite a few more stone stairs that were put in probably fairly recently.

On parts of the trail you can see the beach of Monterosso beckoning, and it didn’t take us long to find a place to change into bathing suits and dive into the Mediterranean. The beach is basically rocks, but that didn’t seem to deter any of the people that squished their way into a spot on the beach.

We were so pooped after the hike and our little swim that it took all kinds of energy to order margaritas and drink them, but you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. Somehow we made it back on the train, but it took a lot of effort. That night we had some average pasta and had a drink while watching the Euro Cup at the only bar in our one-street town.

Our last day in Cinque Terre was a rainy one, so we did some laundry, bought some groceries, and took it easy. Bill came up with a pretty awesome picnic set up for us on our hotel patio, complete with prosciutto, various cheeses, bread, grapes, and wine, and I finally finished my book (Hawaii, by James Michener if you’re wondering - great book). It was such a nice low-key day. I think I’m going to instigate more picnic days like that when we get back to New York.

Watch Your Feet and Drive Me to Firenze!

The title of this post comes from a Phish song that Bill sang often along the streets of Florence. I still haven’t heard the original.

Florence was pretty awesome once we figured out the tiny one-way streets. Until then it was miserable. Our hotel was a small mom-n-pop place that didn’t seem to like when Bill and I would come in any later than 10, which was every night. When we first ventured out we only had to walk about a block to the Duomo, which is huge and awesome.

Throughout our dinner that evening we heard a choir singing so we went to investigate when we finished. We wandered around until we found that the singing was coming from open windows on the second floor of an obscure building. We sat outside listening to this amazing music for about an hour, and slowly more and more people found themselves sitting in awe with us. After one of their songs all of us on the street erupted in applause, and after a moment we heard laughing from inside; I guess they didn’t know they had attracted an audience. As they came out we learned that they were the choir for Il Duomo, and they often rehearse and perform at Sunday mass. We felt really lucky to be in the right place at the right time that night.

The next day we ventured across Ponte Vecchio, an old bridge that spans the Arno River, and made our way to the top of a hill overlooking Florence. We found a nice little spot and Bill enjoyed his new Weezer album while I made more headway in my book. It was a low-key day, but it was perfect for us.

That night we had some incredible food at Il Latini, a restaurant that our friend Lisa recommended. We sat down at a communal table and waited for food to arrive, as there was no menu. Everything was fresh and fantastic, and yes, pretty expensive. It was totally worth it.

On our last full day in Florence we found the Accademie Gallerie where the David is housed. Bill was taken aback by the David. I’d seen it once before, but it never fails to amaze me what a perfect sculpture it is. If you haven’t seen it, it’s much bigger than you would expect, and it’s more detailed than you can imagine. There are veins along the back of the giant hands, muscles are clearly outlined around the whole body, and the whole sculptue is in such perfect proportion it’s hard to believe that human hands created it. I’m tellin’ ya, Michaelangelo - he’s good!

For much of the rest of the rainy day Bill and I had what we call an American day, where we get some kind of take out and watch a movie on the computer, and don’t feel guilty at all. We made it back just in time to miss the downpour, so it was hard to feel bad sitting inside.

That night we had more awesome food thanks to another great recommendation by Lisa. We spent the night wandering around the city, and got ready for our next day of travel...

Ciao Roma!

Ah Roma. What a breath of fresh air after Napoli. We got into the city pretty easily, and no sooner did we check into our hotel than I got us into our first car accident. It wasn’t really my fault, a silly vespa rear-ended our little Peugot while I was driving (of course), and it since it was just a little tap we went our own ways without involving the police.

We did a lot of sightseeing in those first few days, some of it by accident. While searching for a place to eat we ended up at the Pantheon, and later stumbled upon the Trevi Fountain. Both were overrun with tourists, but so cool to see.

Our second day there we made our way to the Colisseum, and then walked through the Palatines and the Roman Forum. It’s pretty amazing to see where Julius Caesar’s tomb is (and also where he was stabbed - it’s now a cat sanctuary in the middle of the city), where slaves and gladiators waited underneath the Coliseum to battle, and who knows how much more history we just wandered right past.

That second night we met up with Jon Piccirillo (pronounced pea-chee-REE-lo), who grew up across the street from Bill’s family and is great friends with his younger brother Joe. He took us to a hole in the wall Italian place that served some of the best food we’d had yet.

The next day we headed for Vatican City, with the Cathedral of San Pietro and the museum that includes the Sistine Chapel. San Pietro is enormous, and houses the Pieta, one of my favorite sculptures by Michaelangelo. We trekked up several hundred stairs to get to the top of San Pietro’s dome, where you can look down on the Basilica, or go outside and see 180 degrees of Rome. It’s a great view that let’s you look down on the Vatican Garden, which there’s no way to see otherwise.

The Vatican Museum gets a little redundant, there’s a lot of similar artwork from the same artists in the same period, so we made it pretty quickly to the Sistine Chapel, where we stood and stared for quite a while. Very impressive that Michaelangelo.

That night we met up with Jon again and he took us to some American bars where we met several of his very nice friends. We ended up at a bar where you must be American to enter, they even check to make sure that noone has an accent as they enter. In New York we would’ve taken one look at this place and ran the other direction, but it was a novelty on the other side of the world. The music was pretty much all Journey and Bon Jovi, and all the characters you try to avoid on a daily basis came together at this bar. As you can tell by this random photo, we managed to have a pretty good time anyway.

Jon offered to let us stay with him in southern Rome for a few more days and Bill and I gladly took him up on his offer. While we were there Bill helped to fix a few things around the apartment, got the toilet running, replaced lightbulbs, and hung an old painting. Jon was nice enough to cook for us several of the nights that we stayed, and took us to an area that no common tourist had seen before. We went to an awesome Italian street market and a quiet park with fantastic gelato. We were supposed to stay 2 nights but ended up hanging around for 4. It’s so nice to see a city from an insider’s point of view, we were really glad we got to stay a bit longer.

Napoli Crapoli

Bill and I arrived in Napoli yesterday. We had finished our attempt up the Amalfi Coast and passed Pompeii and Mount Vesuvius, and were about to descend on Napoli when the crappy google directions told us to get on a highway that didn’t seem to exist. We ended up driving through the center of the city, which only made us determined to never leave our hotel.

Let me start by saying that when we left Porto San Giorgio and told the innkeepers there that we were going to Napoli they gave us a look like we were crazy. This was clearly a sign that we should’ve paid more attention to. Another sign was that the guide book starts the bit on Napoli by saying “Despite its hopeless overcrowding, unemployment and crime rate, Napoli continues to draw visitors.”

Napoli reminds me of Tijuana. The city isn’t cared for - there’s graffiti all over monuments and public statues and there are huge amounts of garbage littering the streets and sidewalks. Driving there is an exercise in futility - no one pays attention to pretty standard laws like the traffic light colors indicate and there are litterally children riding Vespas in and out of traffic. The whole city is just dirty and a little scary, and Bill and I have found our only refuge in our tiny hotel room.

Luckily our hotel had a pool, which was awesome, but unluckily, you are required to wear a swim cap! Which meant, I wasn’t going to go into the pool. Bill decided the humiliation was worth it and popped it on, and he actually looked pretty good.

The second day we were there we ventured out of the hotel to try and find something to redeem the city. We left our hotel and looked down the four different streets we could walk down, and as we made our way down the best looking one, we took this photo. Yes, this is the best of the four directions we could’ve walked down.

We found a little place called Edenlandia, which is a sad little fairground with sub-par rides and questionable food. We wandered around laughing about our predicament, and thanking goodness we would leave for Rome the following day.

OK. Now I have to edit this post because we’ve received word that we were in the crapshoot of Napoli, and there are, in fact, some very lovely areas of the city, particularly near the port. Our friend Jon, whom you’ll read about later is from that area, and he says it’s downright lovely. So maybe head to that area the next time you go to Napoli.

The Amalfi Coast...

...is not all it’s cracked up to be. I’m so sad to write that, as it was one of the things I was most looking forward to on this trip. I’d read about the winding drive along the western coast of Italy just below Napoli, and I was so looking forward to taking the gorgeous drive in.

Well. We started on the south end of the Amalfi Coast and were going to go around the whole thing and arrive in Napoli where we had a hotel reservation. The winding roads of the Amalfi Coast are almost as unnerving as the crazy Italian drivers that shared the road with us. Around every turn there seemed to be a Vespa whizzing by, or a huge tour bus squeezing past. I spent the entire trip tense and gasping as we nearly grazed people and cars alike. Bill was driving (thank God), and he did a great job, but it meant that he couldn’t enjoy the views, and I was so white-knuckled and nervous that I couldn’t really either.

I made the executive decision to abandon our plan. I couldn’t imagine sitting through at leat another 2 hours of this mayhem, so I found an alternate route that would take us over the hill to Napoli. The drive managed to get a little worse at that point. The road seemed to get narrower, there were still little Vespas like annoying flies darting around us, and the path ascended very quickly. There were so many points where a ridiculous fence was all that separated the road from the sea hundreds of feet below. I was freaking out, and am so grateful that I had Bill to keep me at least a little sane.

So basically, if you ever want to drive on the Amalfi Coast be sure to have nerves of steel, a strong stomach, and try to come to terms with the very real possibility of a watery or car-mangling death.

Porto San Giorgio

When we left Venice we didn’t have an exact destination; we knew we wanted to drive south down the eastern coast and stop somewhere before crossing Italy to the Amalfi Coast. Well, Bill’s navigational skills didn’t fail us. We ended up in Porto San Giorgio, which is a beautiful coastal town that I wouldn’t mind spending a whole vacation in.

We found a hotel right across the street from the beach and decided to stay for 2 nights. Our room looked out the the ocean, so we left the door to the balcony open while we slept and woke up to see the sun rise over the Adriatic Sea. It was so amazing that the pictures surely won’t do it justice.

We got an early start on the day, which including walking up and down the beach, and then laying around for a few hours. It’s what we in the (vacationing) biz call a ‘big day.’ The beach was pretty nice, but before long clouds rolled in and it started raining a bit, so we ended up at one of the many bar/club/restaurants that line the beach. We’ve realized how much we enjoy taking our time with a meal. It was hard to get used to how slow waitstaff would work when we first got to Europe, but now we realize that there’s just more appreciation for a long meal, and a long sit to relax afterward.

We did a bit of walking to find the internet that evening so we could book our next hotel, and then we went back to the beach for dinner. We were told to go to a seafood resaurant, so we decided to check it out. We sat down, and when the waitress came over we asked for menus and she made it clear that there was no menu and that she didn’t speak any english. We figured out that she offered to bring us a mix of seafood, so we went for it with our fingers crossed. That meal ended up being one of the best we’ve had, with authentic specialties of that area, and all of it delicious.

Is it weird that all of my Italian posts have so much information about food? I’m only human...

Random Driving Notes...

Bill has gotten awesome at driving a stick shift. When we left he had driven his brother Joe’s manual car only a handful of times, but apparently trial by fire has been working pretty well for him. Driving has been working out pretty well for us for the most part, but it’s had it’s share of drawbacks. As a side note, driving on the Autobahn is cool but not that cool. The car can only go about 200 km/h which is about 130 mph, and we never made it above 170 or so, so even when you gun it you can’t go that fast, especially when accomodating the other slower drivers.

As I was saying (writing?), driving does have it’s drawbacks. The worst of these is arriving in a strange foreign city and attempting to find a hotel via crappy google directions. Besides having trouble finding streets or even highways, for that matter, there’s the issue of obeying the traffic laws and navigating the car through narrow one-way streets (or equally narrow two-way streets). It is stressful and annoying. However, when we set out from one city to the next, the trouble is far outweighed by the excitement of getting on the freeway and seeing whatever terrain is around, going at our own pace, listening to our music loud, and having a small oasis in a foreign place.

I think we’re doing pretty good with gas. Our car takes diesel, and while I couldn’t tell you how many litres and kilometers, I can tell you that it costs about $100 to fill the tank, and with that we can go almost 600 miles. It’s been a while since I drove in the states, but I think that’s pretty good.

So that’s it. Just a little note on the driving situation. All in all it’s a great thing, and I’m glad we have our little European Peugeot as our third traveller.

Venezia

Our first stop in Italy was in Venice, but before I even get to that I have to mention the drive there from Munich. We drove south, as we had to get to the castle, but we continued through Austria, which is a beautiful country. On either side of the highway are small towns built on the side of what I think must be the Austrian Alps. Either way, they were huge snow-topped mountains. Every now and then between the villages there would be a run-down castle nestled on the side; it was just so charming.

It was obvious when we were finally in Itlay. The mountains got a little smaller and a lot greener, and the lower parts of the land were laid out like a quilt with divided sections of vineyards. The architecture of the houses changed noticeably too, and the weather cleared up as we got further south. It was probably my favorite stretch of our drive yet.

We stayed in Maestre, which is just outside of Venice, as people had suggested. Great suggestion. We had a nice little square just a few blocks away with restaurants and stores, and tons of people out and about at all hours. That first night we had Italian food and wine, and we were both in heaven. German food is ok, but if you’re not a fan of schnitzel and fries your choices are limited.

The next day we took a bus into Venice. One benefit of being a foreigner is that you can accidentally get away with stuff sometimes. For example, we didn’t pay for the bus, simply because we didn’t know how, and all the observing of other bus-riders didn’t help. If someone had stopped us we would’ve honestly told them that we intended to pay but couldn’t figure it out, but they didn’t, so we got a free ride to Venice.

What a beautiful city. Apparently it’s one of about 40 surviving islands of over 1000 that have sunk in the last few centuries. It’s filled with small walkways, bridges, canals, and millions of tourists. It was nice just getting lost in all the winding streets. I only wanted to see Piazza San Marco, so we took our time getting there.

You might’ve heard about the pigeon situation in the Piazza. I had seen pictures of people with pigeons sitting on their heads in the square, and was disgusted from afar. Well, I was now disgusted right up close. People don’t seem to realize how disgusting pigeons are, and that fact doesn’t change in one random square in Italy. There were people in every corner TRYING to coax pigeons onto their person. There was one girl with them perched on her shoulders and chest. Eew. We walked by a family where the dad was trying to get a pigeon to sit on his terrified daughter’s head, and Bill couldn’t help but shake his head at the dad and say, “Disgusting.” He took it to another level when we passed more tourists doing this and yelled, “You’re feeding RATS!” I think Bill’s and my common distaste for pigeons brought us closer that day.

Later that day we did the inevitable - took a ride in a gondola. We grabbed a bottle of wine and found a gondolier wearing the stripey shirt and straw hat, and hopped into the boat. He took us past a few different sights, Marco Polo’s house, Cassanova’s house, the building in Casino Royale that collapses, all the while telling us little bits of information. He was kind of a quirky guy; he repeated facts and anecdotes verbatim, and Bill and I would just look at each other puzzled and laugh politely. He also sang a little bit, which was a nice touch. Lots of people will say that the gondola ride is a ripoff, and it sort of is, but it really made the visit to Venice complete.

Our second and final day there Bill and I got some lunch and then went our own ways for a few hours. He went back to Venice to get some tax refund thing for his sweet new Italian sunglasses, and I tried to do a little shopping. If you know me well, you can predict that I tried to shop for about a half hour and then went back to the hotel and napped for the better part of the afternoon.

That evening Bill and I tried to see the new Indiana Jones movie, but all over Italy they dub it over in Italian! I don’t know if we’re going to get a chance to see it in the theaters, which will suck. Anyway, it gave us more time to enjoy the best dinner ever. We went to this little tucked away place and had some of the best wine ever (Bill is becomming a conossieur) with the best ravioli ever. Awesome. There are lots of great things about Italy, but the food will always be at the top of that list for me.

Munich

We got to Munich a few days ago, and eased into seeing the city. Both Bill and I have been feeling a little under the weather - it might have something to do with consuming nothing but meat, potatoes, and beer for the last few days. Who knows?

When we finally made it out we went to one of the places I was most excited to see in this whole trip: Neuschwanstein. It’s a beautiful castle on the border of Austria that was built for the king of Buvaria, King Ludwig II. The castle was used as a model when Disney created the castle for Sleeping Beauty, and it is every bit as gorgeous in person as it was in photos.

The drive to the castle is almost as incredible as the castle itself. It looks like the hills from The Sound of Music, and as you get closer there are beautiful views of the snow-capped Alps. It’s a short walk from where you have to park to the front of the castle, and from there you can see idyllic views of Germany stretching out below.

You aren’t allowed to take pictures inside Neuschwanstein as the entire interior is copyrighted by Buvaria (greedy Buvaria), but it’s immaculate. King Ludwig only lived in the house for about 6 months before he died, and they opened it as a museum 6 weeks later, so everything is virtually unused and in its original condition. It’s very lavish, with intricate details that were apparently very modern for the time period. Behind the castle is a waterfall with a bridge spanning the top of it that gave us great views of the castle. I highly recommend visiting there if you’re in the area.

The next few days in Munich we did a lot of walking, mostly in search of the infamous beer gardens that Munich is known for. We managed to find a couple, but none of them had live bands that played the um-pah-pah music I so longed to hear while drinking my beer. I think Bill and I were both hoping for a little more of the Germany we remembered seeing in European Vacation where Chevy Chase dances around to the um-pah-pah music in leiderhosen. Instead we found a metropolitan city with bits of history mixed in.

Our last day we found an awesome beer garden in the English Garden, which is Munnich’s equivolent of Central Park. We sat next to a small lake and enjoyed beer and really great food underneath the massive chestnut trees, and after a while Bill took me for a boat ride in the lake, where he was nice enough to do all the paddling and let me lounge in the front of the boat. I always knew Bill was a pretty nice guy, now I have even more evidence.

Praha

The next stop was Prague. We were only supposed to stay in Prague for 2 nights, but just driving through we decided we needed a third. Then we saw our awesome hotel and decided to stretch it out to 4 nights.

First of all, the city is BEAUTIFUL. I know I’ve written this about other places, but it just gets better and better and has culminated in Prague. As I learned (from Magda, thank you Magda) Prague is one of few cities that was untouched by either of the World Wars, so the architecture is original, and flawless, and gothic, and detailed, and just so beautiful. Every street you walk down you can turn your head and be looking at an old gothic cathedral that’s been there for a long time. Sorry for the ambiguity on the timeline, no bus tours in Prague.

We spent a day wandering around the old city center, with narrow, cobble stone streets all around, and grandiose buildings everywhere we turned. Another day we crossed the Charles Bridge (so beautiful, so many tourists) to go to the Cathedral of St. Vitus. It was pretty rainy that day, and the Cathedral is a dark, gothic structure, that with a bleak, rainy backdrop looks pretty creepy. We made our way up anyway, and got a look at Prague Castle and St. Vitus. We actually went up another million stairs to see out from the top of the Cathedral, and it was amazing. I think we have a picture somewhere...

Our hotel in Prague made Prague that much more awesome. It was actually a suite, so we basically had an apartment, and we even got to do laundry for free. Is that sad that I should get excited about doing my laundry for free on vacation? Anyway, our first night there we asked the concierge where we might go for dinner and drinks. Here is a rundown of the conversation:

Kim: Where should we go for dinner and drinks?

Concierge: Do you like entertainment? (before we can answer) I have just the place, let me call and see if they can seat you tonight.

Bill: What kind of restaurant is it?

Concierge: (Covers the reciever with his hand and gives Bill a knowing smile as he says) Stone Age.

Bill: Stone Age?

Concierge: Stone Age.

We told him we were to pooped for Stone Age that night, but we were lucky enough to get a reservation for our last night in Prague. I was a little nervous, because, well, what the hell is ‘stone age’? Lemme tell you. We walked into the restaurant which was appropriately called ‘Stone Age’, and Bill was grabbed by a scantilly-clad girl with dirt on her face, messy hair, and various animal hides covering her body.

We were pulled to a table and told to write down our order and pound on the table or grunt when we were ready for them to take it. The food was pretty good, nothing to write home about but it wasn’t too bad, and of course, you had to eat it with your hands since there were no utensils in the Stone Age.

It gets better. About halfway through our meal, several (undoubtedly underpaid) cave men came storming through the restaurant, with face paint, and crazy animal hides, grunting at people and certainly creeping a few of us out. They got really into it, making noises at each other and getting into some kind of cave man altercation. They came back a few times, and each time it was a little more involved and strange, especially when they sacrificed a virgin. I’m gonna miss Bill.

Banter with Billy

From a previous comment:

We like your blog, but I have a question for Bill to see if he really means to write anything. How did you lose so much weight and how do you keep it off with all the beer-drinking you two seem to be doing?
Kim's Dad

Well Jim, good question, and let me answer it with another. Why exercise on vacation when you can just make people THINK you do? What I did in the months prior to our departure was to build a series of “mock-ups” or “sets” if you will, of the various places your beautiful daughter and I would be visiting. Right in our backyard in Astoria, NY you could find a fake London Bridge, a fake Eiffel Tower, and a collection of false “canals” to be used as both Amsterdam and Venice, etc. Then I had Kim take pictures of me in front of them all, which was all done on one VERY hectic day (imagine all the costume changes!) before we left.  As you can see in the picture above, my false depiction of Piazza San Marco in Venice looks pretty convincing.

So now, I'm basically about 300 pounds (about 140 kgs for you Europeans) with tons of beer, sausage, and pizza at my fingertips. Honestly, I dont even bother with napkins, I just wear the same clothes every day and let grease dribble down my chin onto my shirt. Thats the beauty, it doesnt matter! Whenever Kim does a blog post I just whip out one of my “vacation pictures”, taken prior to my rise to obesity and post it as if it were present day. It’s what we in the industry call a “smoke screen.” Thanks for your curiosity and I hope I’ve shed some light on my methods. Hope all is going wonderfully with Sheilagh and yourself on the boat! 

-Bill-

Snackpoint Charlie

I’d like to start this post by mentioning that Bill would like to answer any and all questions you may have about anything. Not just this trip, but anything. He’ll address them in his own posts along the way. So if you have any questions, about science, music, his childhood, just leave a comment and he’ll get back to you. Seriously.

So Berlin. Berlin is such a beautiful city. We were there for about 3 days, and it wasn’t nearly enough time to see the whole city, but we tried.

Our first day there we did a little walking tour of our own through Museumsinsel, which is sort of an island with a few museums and the Berliner Dom on it. We actually walked up a few hundred steps to get to the top of the dome which had a great view of the city. Totally worth all those stairs, but I wouldn’t have turned down an escalator. You’d think they would’’ve updated those old churches with them by now...

We kept on through a park in the middle of the city, really peaceful and calm - I guess every big city needs something like that. We ended up on Kurfurstadam, which is a long street modeled on the Champs Elysses (sp?) in Paris. It’s a great spot for people watching and beer drinking.

The next day it was dreary and rainy, so we decided to take a double-decker bus tour around the city. It was a cool tour and I’m not at all embarassed that I was “that guy” that takes the tourist bus. We picked it up at Checkpoint Charlie, which was the spot in the Berlin Wall where American soldiers had a checkpoint. It’s set up really well, with a wall talking about the history of the Berlin Wall and all the things that have happened since it went up in the 60’s. Keeping the whole area classy was an adjacent line of stores called “Snackpoint Charlie.” Nice.

The tour took us all over Berlin, past lots of things we hadn’t seen the day before and can’t remember the name of today. It was really beautiful though; it’s a huge city and there is such a neat mix of old and new architecture throughout. I think the next time I summer in Europe I’ll leave a little more time for Berlin...