Photos from Florence

(Note: Actually wrote this yesterday but haven’t had internet till now…)

So we made it to Florence…it’s actually a miracle we made it – first we woke up late (we don’t have an alarm or phone and you can’t get a wake up call when you’re in a hostel with 8 other people). Ps—people think we’re crazy not having a phone… “How do you not have an iphone? Have you been living in a cave for the past year?” “Actually, Honduras, so, yes, basically a cave.” Anyway, then we raced to the little tram, missed the stop for the train station, got off the tram, ran through the streets back to the station, tried to print off our tickets at the wrong kiosk, went to the right kiosk but then realized we didn’t even need to print off tickets we already reserved online, got on the wrong train, got back off, and then got on the right train (already starting to roll away) at 7:47…it was supposed to leave at 7:45. What a disaster…and a miracle we made it…because these trains usually leave right on time.

In terms of the city itself (walking around it), Florence might be my favorite so far. It doesn’t seem as busy, it’s super clean, it’s along the river, and, being in Tuscany, has those rolling hills around it that everyone pictures when they think of Italy. Plus there’s this nice little market selling fresh meat and fruit and delicious sandwich paninis. And it was a little windy and cooler at night, so maybe that helped. Anyway, here’s a lot of pictures and a little bit of commentary:

So we arrive and Justin makes me wait in line for two hours (Justin put in his “David statue” playlist from his ipod…featuring “My Goodies” and “Magic Stick”) and pay 11 euro just to see this (but at least we made friends with the Venezuelan family in front of us who were laughing when Justin goes, “Alright, after waiting in line for this long, I’m going to sit there and stare at David’s junk for at least an hour”):

You’ve gotta be kidding me…the Italian government must be making a mint charging people to see this thing. And then we’re not supposed to take pictures…we wait in line for two hours and then we can’t even get a picture with this statue of David in his naked glory? Yeah right, I’m sneaking a picture anyway.

Found a delicious panini shop—better than Herman’s Boys and just as cheap…if Rome is known for pasta and Napoli for pizza, then it’s paninis in Florence.

Next day walked around—saw some old churches…

…ate some gelato…

…and then went on a little scenic drive/wine tasting/visit to a little village in the countryside…basically I just wanted to see this:

Also, should not have pregamed the wine tasting….

Haha kidding people. I’m kidding.

Finally we trekked up a mountain (well, ok fine, some long steps) to a little park with a replica of David…if I would’ve known this was up here yesterday…

And, of course, took more pictures of scenery that I hate when people take because I’m like, “What are you going to do with all those amateur photographs of scenery?” And then I followed the crowd and took some.

Now we’re on the train to Venice, where we’ll stay two nights, and then finally leaving Italy after that. The only thing we didn’t see that I kind of wanted to was that leaning tower…Justin claims it’s a tourist trap (what was that David statue you wanted to see then?)…but I guess that might be valid since I only wanted to go there to get one of those pictures that looks like I’m pushing over the tower. Oh well…can’t have everything. 

Not-so-nippy in Naples

It is not cold in this city. Immediately after getting off the train we made a beeline straight to Da Michele Pizzeria, the reason we came to Naples in the first place: to eat pizza where it was created. Turns out there was a huge long line (oh what a surprise, everyone wants to eat pizza where it was created), and we were starving, so we decided to go to King's Pizza Palace across the road. Ok, fine, so we didn't. Thought about it though. So we took a number...which I still say is the best part of eating here -- waiting in the huge crowd with your number in front of the pizzeria place with all the other foreigners trying to figure out how to say the numbers in Italian, paranoid you're going to miss them calling your number because you have no idea what the numbers are. Classic.  Basically at this pizzeria you can order one of two pizzas: margherita (tomato, mozzarella, and basil) or marinara (tomato, olive oil, garlic, and oregano). Those are the literally the only two things on the nonexistent menus. Justin and I both opted for the marinara. Well, I would say it was the best pizza I ever had, but, quite honestly, the pizza here is so different that I can't even compare it to the pizza in the States. Delish though. And we also met some girl from California who wins my "Craziest Traveler of the Day" award. She's traveling with her brother too -- or, rather, was traveling with her brother. Apparently they had this huge falling out in Munich and her brother peaced out on her...absolutely hilarious: "Yeah he got mad and left and then a day later I saw him sleeping at the ariport...I guess he didn't even get a room!" Then as we were leaving I was like, "Well I hope you guys reconcile," and she was like, "Yeah maybe when he grows up." Bahaha. 

Me and the pizza chef 

So then we went to this hotel she recommended...awesome. Turns out there was a mini pool on the seventh floor terrace...I was soooo happy because I was sweeeaating with that big pack on my back...but then there were no rooms left. Soooo we resorted to begging for money on the streets. Exhibit A:

When that proved to be less than effective, we walked for another 5 hours to a hostel (Hostel of the Sun) recommended by our travel guide. Luckily they had just two spots left (a guy came in after us and was turned away), and it turned out to be the nicest, cheapest, and by far the cleanest place we’ve stayed yet. The only thing a little weird is that since it was a hostel, it was me, Justin, and some other guy from New Zealand. A little weird, but whatever…they didn’t have a room the second night though, so we had to stay at a dumpy hostel across the road in an eight-person room.

Spent the rest of the day walking around and eating pizza. And just when I think Italy’s food might be overrated, it goes and does something like this…and totally redeems itself. For dinner we went to a little place down the road from our hostel, and I actually ordered pasta. I was thinking after that it was stupid because how could I be ordering pasta at the pizza birthplace city? But it ended up being the best call as it was the best pasta ever…we went back the next night and I ordered the same thing.

The next day we got up and went to see Pompeii, some old Roman city that was destroyed and covered completely with ash by Mt. Vesuvius a long time ago. I remember reading a book about this city in like third grade, so we figured it must be pretty famous and we better go. Well, turns out Pompeii has been hit quite severely by global warming (I think Mt. Vesuvius did these people a favor):

Seriously, we must have been walking around these old ruins for hours in the 100 degree heat. The thing I don’t get about all these ruins is that they are always “under construction” – like, being “refurbished” or “restored”…how can ruins be reconstructed? Isn’t that the point of the ruins? I’m beginning to think all of these ruins are a hoax and some king in one of these billion castles we’ve visited is making a crapton of money…

Castle visit #3478

We stopped for lunch after that (more pizza), and then went on a kayaking/swimming tour in the Mediterranean (a couple girls from California staying at our hostel went too), where we got to kayak under some castles and swim in some sea caves. Now that’s my kind of tour! The guide was telling me about a swim race from Capri Island to Napoli in September, which is my new life goal. The only thing missing on the tour was 20 Italian guys in speedos. Oh wait, no, they were on the tour too. I know, the only thing missing was a ride on their vespa after the tour was over. Oh wait, didn’t miss that either. Riding on the back of some Italian guy’s vespa up the windy hills of Napoli? Classic. Not sure how Italy can get much better than that, but let’s see Florence try. 

When in Rome, do as the Romans do...

Okay, so the title really has nothing to do with anything...well, besides that we're in Rome. Let's be real, visiting all the tourist hotspots isn't exactly what the Romans do.

Yesterday we arrived pretty early from our 6am flight -- at like 7:30am -- and immediately set off to do some classic sightseeing. I was pretty dead tired though after spending two nearly sleepless nights in a row, and was kind of ready for a nap when we got there...no such luck since the room we found wasn't ready till 11. So we roamed around a bit before coming back for a nap, which turned out to be a bad idea because when I woke up from like a 4 hour nap I felt like it was the middle of the night and mumbled something like, "Ok fine let's just see the Colosseum already and get it over with." Oops.

Colosseum

Anyway, so we checked out the Colosseum and then the Roman forum...basically a bunch of big ruins. We were too cheap to pay for the tour, so I'm not exactly sure what all went on there...I should have paid more attention in Western Civ in high school. Anyway, the ruins were starting to a get a little old (literally and figuratively) after a while so I thought I'd try to stir up a little excitement and climb on/see how sturdy the ruins really are...

And that's when we got kicked out of the ruins. Okay just kidding. I did get yelled at in Italian by some angry guard though (luckily not quick enough to stop us from getting the pictures). Speaking of, I hate not being able to speak Italian...and there are less people who speak English than I thought there would be. (ie: The owners of our little hotel.) 

So then today we started out visiting the Vatican city. I admit we probably should have done a little more history research on these things -- after walking around St. Peter's Basilica for an hour thinking it was the Sistine Chapel and then realizing it wasn't, we decided to cut our losses, go get a big pizza, take a five hour catnap, and move on to Amsterdam. Okay, just kidding. Well not about the pizza. We got some lunch at a real authentic Italian place -- we had no idea what the guy was saying and there was no menu, so he just started bringing out some stuff. It was a bit too authentic for me -- random appetizers and stuff that reminded me of having to eat seaweed rolls that one time on Amazing Race -- but Justin was a huge fan. Well, the pizza and pasta he brought out turned out to be decent.

Then we found the actual Sistine Chapel and wandered around there a bit, this time getting duped into paying for the overpriced audioguide which featured a guy with an Italian accent shouting at me about the great old popes and giving me confusing directions through a walkie-talkie (see photo evidence below). Also, they force you to walk through all this stuff in the Vatican Museum first before you get to the actual chapel (direct quote from the audioguide: "This room contains the lesser known and least important old statues").

And basically we kept getting lost on our way to suff and ending up at this crowded "Trevi fountain" where random guys kept trying to hand me roses and then make me pay a bunch of euros...and I would say something like, "Not this dang fountain again!" and get dirty looks from all the other tourists. Or I would say something like, "Hey it's the Spanish steps!" whenever we saw some random steps around...and people would be like, "Wait really?" or ask us where the Spanish steps actually were. Finally, though, we did end up capping off the day with a race up the "famous" Spanish steps, which turned out to be three flights of old stairs. Can you say bust?

Justin and the Spanish steps

Haha, ok that was a joke...and this whole post is kind of sarcastic. Actually Rome is great. The Sistine chapel was awesome, the fountain was sweet, the little piazzas and side streets are the classic Italy you imagine, and today we walked around a park that had amazing views of Rome. We got some great pasta, although actually the best pasta I've ever eaten in my life was in Barcelona. Still lots of Italy left to see though. And tomorrow it's off to Naples, the birthplace of the pizza.

(Ps -- I'm warning you, get used to this pose)

Running for our lives in Pamplona...and updates from Barcelona

So we arrived in Barcelona Monday night to begin this trip, and ever since we got here we started hearing some buzz about the running of the bulls (Festival de San Fermin) in Pamplona, Spain (about 4 hours or so from here...or, if you are on "Stoke Tours" travel bus, more like 6) because it runs from July 6 to the 14th or so. (If you're not sure what the running entails, look it up, because I have a 5am flight to catch tomorrow so I don't want to explain it all.) For instance, a crazy Australian girl on our bike tour who was going: "Yeah, I, mean, it's a risk to do it...but I think you're like a little less likely to not get gorged than to get gorged by the bulls." Or, some lady we met from Minnesota who is living here for her job for the summer: "Yeah, I have this friend who woke up in a tent like two days after the bull fight with bruises on one entire side of her body, and she had blacked out and had nooo idea what happened. Then she watched a youtube video of herself and saw herself running towards the bulls with her arms flailing." And then we did some research ourselves and watched videos like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNcl8LKxjTo


So, to sum up: a) You're more likely not to be killed than to be killed; b) Don't get wildly drunk and then try to outrun 6 one and a half ton bulls...or don't run at them, for that matter; c) This festival is a must-see (well, in my case a "must-see"; in Justin's a "must-do"). So we did some research on how not to die ("The bulls tend to go wide, so hug the corners" etc.), and signed up with an insane tour group called Stoke Tours ("You'll come back completely exhausted but also stoked"). So the "tour" group drops off about 6 busloads of crazy people in downtown Pamplona at midnight last night, telling us all to meet back at the bus stop at 11am the next morning. Now, this isn't exactly what we had expected (they had promised "accomadations"), but don't get me started on Stoke Tours. Anyway, there is the craziest party allll night. I've never seen anything like it. So everyone's plan is to stay up all night and party and then get chased by some bulls at 8am? That sounds crazy, right? Well, it is crazy. I've never seen anything like it. 


So, bottom line is, I was never planning on running (there are usually only a few girls), but suddenly at 6am I find myself lining up for the bull run amidst a bunch of wildly drunk people (who I am actually more concerned about hurting me than the actual bulls) and the people are building up fences around me so I can't get out. So by 7:15 I'm starting to have a panic attack and the crazy Australians are telling me that they aren't going to take any prisoners (if you do your research online, it says you're more likely to be tripped and trampled on by people than the actual bulls). Then 7:55 rolls around and they tell us to start running because the bulls will be released soon....and so I'm jogging and then I turn the corner and some police confiscate me and tell me to leave the running (a lot of girls are told they can't run, and plus I had a drawstring backpack on, which isn't allowed apparently). Well, they didn't need to tell me twice...I quick hopped the fence with my stuff and took refuge behind the fence taking pictures and watching the madness. So, unfortunately (or fortunately?), I can't say I've done it, but, really, I got some nice pics, and most importantly, the sweet outfit. Justin, of course, had me hold his bag. And you'll see from the progression of pictures that I was starting to have second-thoughts about doing it anyway:

12:30am: "I'm so stoked"

2:30am: "Haha, bulls are hilarious"

3:30am: "I'm going to eat these bulls for breakfast"

4:00am: "I've lived here in Pamplona my whole life and I would neeeever get into that bull run"

6:00am: "No more smiling...time to focus"

7:50am: "Is it too late to dip out?"

10:00am: "Running from bulls, or psyching yourself out and then not actually doing it, takes a lot out of you"

And, well, the good thing about not running is that I could get some sweet pics...after the run the bulls are released on all the runners in this huge arena...where stupid people try to aggravate them and then get nearly killed while the crowd watches...it's actually kind of messed up.

Anyway, besides the bull run (everything else now seems boring in comparison) we have spent the last several days visiting the sights (some old churches, parks, castles, etc.) in Barcelona (or Barttthhhelona, as they say) and navigating the metro system, as well as trying all the typical Spanish food -- paella, bocadillos, and tapas. And also trying to adjust to the six-hour time change, which I had finally adjusted to until our all-nighter last night. We also went on a bike tour of the city, which was a highlight since we had a crazy guide named Tullis (think thick British accent: "If you find yerself thinking, 'Oh bloody I've lost the tour group,' just stay where you are.") and at least one person who had seemingly never ridden a bike before and got lost every two minutes. Anyway, I've really liked Spain and one of my highlights so far has been practicing my very thick Spanish accent --essentially just talking with a lisp (or, as Justin seems to think, going over the top with it)...and I've made it my life goal to learn to speak Spanish with different accents. But it's on a plane to Rome tomorrow morning, so I guess I'll put the Spanish on hold and start brushing up on some Italian!