amalthya

After being in all of these old European cities, something that strikes me as funny about Berlin is that it seems so... new. And there's something that you don't realize, and aren't exposed to even growing up in New York City.

Berlin, after being bombed, was a HUSK. And sure, Berlin might have been an appropriate military target. But Dresden? Uh, no. There was nothing there. And it was a husk too.

Being here in Berlin, I saw all these photos of Berlin after World War II, and it was sort of heartbreaking. Willi took this photo in the Kaiser Wilhelm memorial. The church had been this extraordinary thing to behold, and was just a shell after it'd been bombed. So instead of repairing it (which I guess was too difficult), they took the pieces that were left over and constructed this hideous thing which should be so beautiful but instead was put together like Lego Church Blocks by some foreign douchebag architect. It was just sad.

So yeah, there's an ugliness to the contemporary structures in Berlin. It's sort of like whoever put them together didn't care. They are clearly there for utility and not beauty. Cold, grey concrete with tiny homogenous windows. I can only imagine how bleak it looks in the winter. Willi says it's freezing too.

Willi and I took today to rent our scooter instead of yesterday. Of course, we'd started the day late and the instructions from scooter-rent.de were less than specific. So we ended up going all the way to Ruhleben (which I learned how to pronounce) and walking forever, only to end up at this place in the middle of nowhere that insisted Willi have his passport with him to drive the scooter.

So we caught a random bus, found our way back to the S-Bahn and back to Charlottenburg to get his passport. Thankfully, they had another branch in the Potsdamer Platz and finally, after 2 hours of annoyance, we were moped-ed.

One of the reasons that hanging out with Willi again has been so cool has been our reminiscences of Africa. It's really quite difficult acclimating to "normal" life because sure, you can add your little Africa references in here and there, but no one really gets them. Willi and I though, we've been all over. There and back again. And we have a hundred laughs. He even brought me a bag of Uganda Waragi and tonight, before he left to Greifswald, we had UG and Sprite together. Cheersing is awesome.

Anyway, remember when we rented a moto in Congo? Today was sort of like that :) There's something about riding together that bonds people, I think. I was cranky this morning, and after zipping around the city, everything just felt right again. We had currywurst and made plans to meet in Madrid next year too.

I am also officially a motorcycle junky. There's something about riding (and this time with a helmet!) that thrills me beyond belief. I can't get enough. And then it's time to return the scooter. And I cry! And also walk.

---

My command of German has gotten no better, but Willi says it is not really my fault. There are words that he laughs and repeats for me over and over, and I will probably never remember how to pronounce them. Like Kaisergedächtniskirche . It means "Kaiser's Memorial Church." But when German adds all sorts of qualifiers to nouns, they can get really long and complicated. I look at that word and don't even have a CLUE how to START pronouncing. I just hiss and spit some phlegm and hope it's a close enough approximation. Willi actually made a recording of what it's *supposed* to sound like. Maybe I'll upload it!

So, I've gotta pack tonight. And hide my meat. My tour of Berlin has been completely non-touristy. But absolutely brilliant, and filled with some of the best shawarma I've ever eaten, from this area that was a dead-on ringer for the East Village. Right down to the pretentious dreadlocked hipsters. I really felt like I knew the subway system well at the end. I love the S-Bahn, but man is the U-Bahn hot and smelly. The Alex costs 8.50€ but was still fun to do as a tourist attraction. But I really went ALL over, and that part always gives me a thrill. Plus, shawarma.

I'm on such a high. How will I sleep when I can barely even sit still? I'll pack, for sure. And watch Heroes on alluc.org. Home tomorrow! Woa!

I have to say that easyJet is cheap for a reason. But it wasn't a bad flight from Madrid to Berlin. And it was full of the most interesting people I have ever seen -- it seems that though mullets may have been popular in Spain, the RAT TAIL -- really long, ratty ones -- have taken over Germany.

But what is up with people wearing a high percentage of orange on easyJet flights (whose company color seems to be orange)? Do you get some sort of discount?

Funnily, a woman from Pamplona sat next to me, and despite being completely unable to communicate with me without wild hand gesturing, she gave me her home address and phone number/email, telling me to visit her next time I was in Pamplona.

...Um, okay?

Willi was there to pick me up at the airport, looking mostly the same and I realized how ultimately cool my friends are. Or the fact that I can travel to all these places and never be alone. You can never go wrong when you have a friend who uses the segué "Speaking of ass..." either.

He'd brought his car from Vietzler (spelling obviously wrong) so we drove off, catching up and expecting to find the hotel in some approximation. But, we got incredibly lost and got pulled over by the German Police. Which honestly is never, ever good. We did manage to get directions from them, though!

We finally pulled into the hotel around 1:15 am. Yes, we'd gotten that lost. But in the course of it, I did get to see the entrance of the zoo three times!

Willi isn't from Berlin, and doesn't really know the town that well, so this is an adventure for both of us. We checked in, dropped off the crap, discovered we had free wireless! and then went down to a 24-hour kebab place and drank too much beer. I feel more German already!

I'll say though, that it's just as well that I'm languaged-out. Because reading the signs in Germany, I don't have a single clue what its root could even be. So now, I don't even have to try!

And with that, we rent a moped and tool around. Provided we can slog our asses out of bed. Exciting!

No, your clock isn't fooling you. It's like, 4 am here in Madrid. Perhaps had I not stayed up so late and gone back to sleep after my appointment with the Massage Witch and slept until nearly 2, I'd be sleepy now.

I'm completely frustrated and awake, and thought that I'd at least watch the two episodes of Heroes that I missed.

But of course:



No Heroes from Spain. I hate you, NBC.com. Why are you so hateful? I find myself also irrationally upset and annoyed at my lack-of-email here in Spain. Maybe NBC.com is telling me things about my life in general, not just about Heroes.

YOU MUST CHANGE YOUR LOCATION.

*frustrated sighs*

I'm perhaps going to try and sleep. Tomorrow will be a day that I need to be awake for. I'm also thinking of buying my first bikini at the spanish store tomorrow. I haven't worn a bikini since going to the country club beach with gmonger 10 years ago. But hell, I might as well. I bought a couple things at Il Corte Inglés on Saturday -- European clothing seems to fit me well, and part of the anxiety of shopping is removed because hell, I have no idea what any of the sizes mean. I just hold it up and eyeball it.

Laura, go to bed. It's 4:30.

EDIT: Okay, now it's 5. I'm still not sleeping. BUT, there are some photos that infd took of me in Italy. I'm especially fond of this one . I smell an icon coming. All of his photos are here.

Also, is LJ not sending comment notifications, or is everyone just tired of hearing about my travels? Maybe it's 5 am, but I'm feeling unloved!

Sunday 1:38 pm
June 10, 2007

My absolute inability to access the internet here in Madrid is infuriating to me, because I should be able to figure it out, even without the WEP-cracking tools. But I can't find out where these two wifi networks are originating from, despite dragging my laptop all over the house. They only seem to be visible from my room. And I wonder if they'd be easier to see from the upstairs terrace, but... *hangs head in shame* ... I can't figure out how to open the terrace door.

But yes, I got into Madrid safe and sound. There's a quality about flying into a new city at night that makes you wonder whether you'd know if you were going over water or land. Spain was full of inky blackness, scattered with bright flurries of light in tight concentrations. The only giveaway that you're not over water is the tiny headlights beams penetrating the darkness, barely visible. Secondly, you're flying over Spain. It's not really famous for its bodies of water.

The light, though, is that old yellow/orange light, and it flickers in an intensity of a sun-bounced sea but gives off this warm, luminescent glow.

I found myself twittering with excitement, unable to sleep on my leg from Milan to Madrid. Florence to Milan I don't even remember, except for waking once to wonder why my neck was sore and stiff.

I haven't seen this gaggle of my family in quite some time, and I was riddled with that excitement that you control only by jittering and flexing your butt. Why is it that at those moments the universe seems to spin as slowly as possible? Once we finally landed, 20 minutes past scheduled arrival time, the taxing to the gate took FOREVER. Once they loaded us off the plane (slowly) they piled us onto a bus. Which sat there, waiting. Why do people always put their suitcases as far from them as possible? And in the opposite direction of the flow of traffic?

Once the bus arrived at the terminal, it was our turn to wait for luggage. The guest area was outside of the luggage area. So I stood, alone, waiting for my luggage forever.

Scheduled Arrival Time: 10:55
Actual Arrival Time: 11:20
Arrival Time at the Terminal: 11:50
Arrival Time of Luggage on the Conveyor Belt: 12:15

...Alitalia, I hate you. And your greasy vegetable sandwiches.


But there was my family, picking me up at the airport. And I was happy. It's been a bit madcap.

I spend my days and nights very differently, thanks to my cousin Cookie. And you know that I pride myself in managing to find a path in almost any social situation. But the language barrier? HARD. Last night I felt like an awkward teenager. It was still fun, but everything felt so unfamiliar that it was hard to get into the groove. It wasn't until about 4 am that I started feeling comfortable and dancing wildly to the music. I taught my cousin how to shimmy her boobs too.

I'll write more later, but I'm due at a lunch with Cookie and Vicky (who send a big hello to glib_dichotomy). If I can stay awake for 20 more minutes!

Also, a complete non sequitur, but it makes me laugh that the noreply email address for easyjet is blackhole@easyjet.com.

Friday 2:53 pm
June 8th, 2007

Well, I was hoping the airport here in Florence might have wifi so that I could burn time in between now and the point when I had to check in. My original flight was at 7pm, getting into Madrid at midnight, but thankfully, I was able to change flights while here and get in earlier at 11 pm. It still seems like an awfully long time to fly for not that far to travel.

And my change of flight was free, because, according to the ticket lady, BUSH is coming into Rome, and Alitalia is perfectly happy to have fewer travelers in the Rome airport (where my original flight was going through)

So... now I'm flying through Milan. I have no complaints, really. Especially since Charles, Tom and Yenni left me with a 1.5L water bottle full of wine. We'd planned to drink it while waiting in the airport, but they ended up catching an earlier flight and now I'm left here solo!

We spent yesterday at the Uffizi Gallery, surrounded by famous and incredible artwork. I know we were supposed to be stunned by the Botticellis, but I found myself much more entranced by the work of Pietro di Cosimo. I'd never heard of him before, but I sent a few postcards today with the painting I liked most, a dragon piece.

While we were inside, it started to hail like you wouldn't believe outside! We decided to walk home anyway, and I've learned from countless Ugandan and Congolese rainstorms that having an umbrella won't really impact a thing. You'll still be wet. Of course, being wet and subsequently cold, looking for Tom in the rainy Tuscan streets was less than fun.

Hmm, maybe I will pay a bit of money and go online while here. Also, I'm getting drunk! Oh my.

Excited to go to Madrid though. Despite my general travel fatigue, I really feel jazzed for that leg of the trip.

Ciao!

Wednesday 9:20 am
June 6th, 2007

There's this raw carnivory and lust of Italy that I've noticed, and I'm not talking about the prosciutto. Spitting does seem to be a part of it, though, because I can hear people hocking their loogeys from my apartment window!

There's a roundness to the language that lends itself to booming laughter, and well yeah, the raw meat! We ate dinner last night at Il Latini, which was an experience because it was bustling with hundreds of people, and plates of canteloupe and prosciutto were flying by like bullets.

From the ceiling hung huge legs of piggy. It wasn't as caveman-esque as it could have been, because you couldn't point at the ceiling and say, boomingly, FEED ME THAT ONE! But at one point, all of the meat that's being served has hung from that ceiling.

I was immediately identified as the vegetarian, but it didn't seem to be a menu sort of place anyway so they just brought me things to eat.

Or, I'm sorry, when infd asked if we could have menus, the waiter he'd flagged down smiled at us with horribly crooked, scary brown teeth and said

I am-a the menu!

And he wasn't lying. Apparently, dinner was a Huge Plate of Meat. Also, while we usually share 1L of red wine between the four of us for each meal, they had only 2L bottles. Drunk and full of meat!

Seriously, just think of Bacchus, sitting huge and fat and happy and drunk on his turtle!

...minus the turtle, of course ;)

Tuesday 10:36 am
June 5th, 2007

Driving through Italy has proven to be a wonderfully pleasant adventure -- even the night driving in Florence, the accidental foray down the one-way street, and the generally failure-ific capabilities of our GPS in narrow Firenze-ian streets.

And we finally slept with our glass windows closed. Sure, we miss the chatter of the street, but for the first morning, I didn't wake up with 7 mosquitos perched ominously on the wall above my head.

Yesterday we decided to drive to Pisa to see the Leaning Tower. I do find it amazing that this particular town is famous architectural failure. Look! We tried to make a tower and it didn't stand up straight! Come and climb it and press your luck! No whammies, no whammies, no whammies, STOP!

But climb it we did, and may I just it was fucking incredible and amazing and breathtaking. Quite literal on the last part, since it was crooked, worn marble stairs in an endless circular stair. Though there were no windows you could usually feel what side of the tower you were on, depending on what wall seemed to be there to lean on. I won't lie: it was exhausting but when your stairs don't have landings, you're not really sure WHAT floor you're on and not sure when you're supposed to get tired.

The view from the top -- both tops -- the one where they have very ancient warning/mass bells (forbidden to ring now), then, around the edge and up a very narrow, very grooved/cupped, very steep spiral marble staircase to the top deck. Oh, the stairs were also wet from the rain earlier in the day. There is indeed a very good reason that they forbid you from taking up any bags, even purses.

But wow, to see the entirety of Pisa, and practically of Italy, standing at the top as a gusty breeze came through, encouraging you toward the lean, but carrying on it the gentlest scent of night-blooming jasmine and wet foliage.

You really don't feel the lean as much at the top, though. Surprising thought it may seem. But to realize that the tower is 1000 years old, and has probably been leaning for equally that long. Apparently it tilts a little more every year thanks to tourists, too.

Climbing down was another story entirely -- obviously less physically taxing, but damn if the steps weren't uneven and still marble, though there was something comforting about running your hand along the smooth marble walls as you made your way down.

There'd been some question too as to whether we'd climb -- two of our party weren't really enthused when they saw the queue outside and the price (15€) but everyone was glad when we did finally decide to go. No doubt either that it was more worth it than the "So-Called Crypt."

---

We've had wonderful trip pacing thus far. We usually start every day before 10, and it does feel like we've done a lot in the past five days. But we've also enjoyed food and conversation -- we stayed in a Pisan café yesterday for probably 3 hours. We've developed and Bread-and-Wine-o-meter for the various restaurants we see. Even if you're ambling in Italy, you still walk a considerable amount.

Having the car rocked. We'd listen to Italian radio -- even identifying songs we heard multiple times. Longevity of signal is clearly an American invention, because we'd usually have to change stations every 5-10 minutes as the static set in.

Oh, and for #stuy95ers: Avril Livigne's song Girlfriend doesn't even play in its Italian version in Italy.

I will say though, that there's a point where you're cruising along your roadway of choice, and the road is smooth and your car is... somewhat smooth... and you're listening to good tunes with great friends and where you are seems almost secondary. Of course, there were times when the landscape was lovely marbled mountains and tuscan villas and agriculture, but a lot of the time we could just as easily have been in the United States. Roadways, I think, are often like that. Almost the same, anywhere you go.

---

We decided to stop in the small town of Lucca on our way back to Florence last night. Lucca is, honestly, the first town that's actually felt like a town and not an excuse for tourists to come and spend money. Not once while there did anyone try to sell me a bootleg watch or some faux designer handbags or purses. There were also locals, out doing local things that didn't include playing the accordion next to your dinner table! We walked around the city wall (more cities should have them) where people jogged and we stopped and took pictures of the sunset before descending to have dinner.

The big nightlife of the city was as the guidebook promised -- a Gelateria in the center of town. Still, though, charming.

We did finally find our car, something that I should give credit to the GPS for, because it's often easy to forget which way you even came in after a day of wandering a city.

All these city walls and things really get you thinking about what Italy must have been like 1000+ years ago, though. Driving from one city to another just wasn't done, I guess. Or perhaps if you were high enough up, it might be considered aggressive. Everywhere we went, jutting out from the highest tree line would be a large stone watchpost, complete with parapets and a tiny window at the top. And really, they were everywhere.

Every city we've visited was also surrounded by a wall. Of course, the wall in Lucca was so large that it had a proper-width road on top, even if they'd converted it for joggers/bikers, and a row of trees on either side of the road. Huge trees growing on your wall? Yea, that's a big wall.

I could see living in a town like Lucca, though. Of course, walking by the real estate office at night, just looking in the window one could see that everyone else is of that same philosophy. 450,000€ for a ground floor 1.5 bedroom? Uhh, maybe not.

---

We'd had this grand plan to wake up at 7 am today to go queue to see the David. After getting back to Florence at nearly midnight last night, however, we decided against it. Tonight we have reservations at a fancy restaurant, and tomorrow we hit the Uffizi Art Gallery. Thursday has the potential for Rome, though we'd probably have to stay there on Wednesday morning in order to even get INTO the Vatican to see the Sistine Chapel, etc.

Well, now it's nearly noon, and Charles and Tom haven't returned from returning the car yet. Perhaps they've been accosted by angry locals, but I imagine our day will progress as slowly. And definitely, definitely internet-ly.

Everyone made it here in one piece. We are working on surreptitiously entering someone's network that we get in the apartment, but we have been so busy photo-taking and touristing that there has simply been no time for the internet.

And with that, I promise to write more later. These internetz are too slow for photos, though.

Oh, my kingdom for a browser that supported tabs ...

I spent most of this morning wandering through Florence, after arriving at 7 am and a night on a shaking train.

My excursions towards Italy yesterday went pretty well -- I walked down the beach one last time, and was shocked to see two figures partially obscured by the sand, and it took me a good minute to realize they were made of stone.

Yes, I'm a weirdo, but my first thought was that some evil scifi-genre wizard had punished them for their Beach Sloth and turned them to stone. And then I saw the plaque saying it was a sculpture.

It was still Weird.

The train to Nice was easy, and I've found that if I squeal like a Helpless Girl, men will inevitably come and carry my suitcase up stairs and into train cars and into otherwise grossly-annoying places and travel spots. I had about 5 hours to kill in Nice, so I checked my overly-heavy luggage into the lockers and wandered around. I literally walked by this shop again! And took another picture!

Nice feels really really... crowded. Not like Cannes at all. Plus, the beach is full of rocks. It's FAMOUS for its rocks.

Anyway, I wandered around for a good 3 hours, some of which I sat in a big park. I marveled at my last few French idiosyncrasies -- For example... I don't know what "TAMPON ET RECHARGE" is, but I can tell you I *don't* want it.

---

The sleeper train car was smaller than I'd remembered -- 4 beds instead of 3. 2 American kids from University of Arizona (a couple) came in and we all had a grand time speaking English. We were eventually accompanied by a very old lady who spoke NO French and NO English and seemed very ornery.

I had a tough time falling asleep -- there are apparently Americans everywhere and they're noisy and don't seem to be aware that a sleeper car was for sleeping. But eventually, I nodded off, careful not to also FALL off (I was in the top bunk).

I've got to say, though, that I sort of love being in a confined little bunk. I had all my stuff within arm's reach, or on this little shelf, and I felt very enclosed and comforted.

We were awoken with a jolt and packed up. It turned out that Andrew and Tracy (the Arizona couple) had a hotel near mine, so we resolved to mosey together. However, the sleeper train had let us off at Campo Di Statto -- a train station nowhere near the center of Florence.

Of course, I didn't realize it, and neither did they. Matteo, the owner of the B&B we're all staying at told me he was a 2 minute walk from the train station -- just not which one!

After fruitlessly searching for a taxi in the middle of nowhere Andrew discovered that there was a quickie train to the other train station, so I used the automatic machine and away we went!

The hotel was, in fact, very close to the train station but I've gotta say that my hands and raw and chapped from lugging that beastly heavy suitcase. But Matteo took care of me, gave me a DELICIOUS croissant and some breakfasty food (I'll mention too that the croissant here was better than ANY of the croissants I'd had in France) and sent me a-wandering until our apartment was ready.

And here I am, internetted and a bit sleepy and dazed and realizing that my Italian is hopelessly rusty. But tomorrow, everyone will get here and we will have lovely lovely fun.

And in the interim, I'm off to have some lovely fun, and FOOD, by myself. I've taken so many photos already!

Monday 12:40 pm
May 28th, 2007

The wind billows through Cannes like it's trying to get rid of the last of the tourists. As I walked through the festival grounds today, watching them "strike the sets" it struck me as such a different place. Even as of last Friday, the frenetic energy that had been coursing through the Palais was diminished, but today, it was just gone. No more badges, no more twitters of various languages, no more madhouse crowds, no more Festival!

Even the red carpet was dirty and covered in leaves.

I found myself amused too that they'd taken down the Die Hard 4.0 billboard across from the Palais. What, does one just rent the ad space for the duration of the festival and scrap it after those two weeks are up?

The wind today really has been something -- yesterday at the pool they forbade people from using umbrellas because the wind was breaking them all. But today, as I walked down to the Palais, along the beach, I understood why all those desert travelers had pock-marked faces. I still have sand stuck to every bit of me, in my mouth and the crevices of my teeth.

Additionally, how bizarre to see the beaches empty and smooth today, with the wild white waves crashing against the shore. I wonder what all the beach people do when they're not at the beach!

Once again, I was foiled by the Post Office. What the hell is Pentacost Monday? When is the post office ever open? I'll head into town again tomorrow to try to mail my postcards again.

I'm wondering whether I feel like going to Monaco tomorrow, since I don't feel much like gambling and I've already seen all the non-gambling sights. I could just relax poolside and pack. I'll decide later.

I did, however, buy my train ticket to Florence on Wednesday. infd, could you ask the guy if it'd be okay if I showed up a day early? If not, it's okay. I'm sure I can find another place to stay.

Speaking of where the beach bunnies go when it's too windy to sunbathe, I'm wondering what exactly I'll consume myself with today. It really seems too cold to sit by the pool, and I'm out of books to read (drats!). It seems premature to pack for Wednesday too.