Rome and Geneva and Paris, OH MY!

Waiting in my room to leave for Europe was a very boring experience. I had to sit around until about half past midnight until Liz returned to her BUNAC hostel from her exciting, ghost-ridden trip to Scotland. When she finally got back she gave me a call and I set off…at last! I made my way down to Tottenham Court Road and Oxford Street and hung out with her for an hour or so before I started my walk at around 2:50 a.m. down Tottenham to find a bus, which left me plenty of time to get to Victoria Coach Station. You see, I had to catch a bus at 3:30 from there all the way down to Gatwick Airport, which is about an hour outside of downtown London. So I wait for a bus to get me to the coach bus, and after 15 minutes, one shows up. I hop on and start my ride, all the while being the only person on the bus. After about 3 stops, a little tiny dude gets on the bus and shows his pass to the driver. The driver asked to see the pass again; the guy hesitated and then showed it to him. The bus driver shook his head, looking almost unsatisfied. The guy seemed to think nothing of it and proceeded to sit two seats behind me. We pulled away from the stop and then almost immediately a police van pulled up along the side of us. They had a few words with the driver through his window, and then continued in front of the bus with their lights and sirens blazin’! They got out of the van and came to the front door of the bus where they had a short conversation with the bus driver. Considering I was listening to my iPod, I pulled out my headphones to listen in. This was getting interesting. I had yet to think of the consequences this guys actions might have on my time sensitive journey.

“That’s the guy. He was attempting to pass a fake bus pass of as the real thing,” the bus driver mumbled.

“We’ll take care of this,” responded the bobbies.

They walked back to where the guy was sitting, who looked as though he had no idea what was going on. (or so it seemed) At this point I look at my watch and realize I have 5 minutes to make it to the coach station! I get off the bus and begin to run. Not even really sure which way to turn when I get to the right street! Picture this: an extremely large backpack on my back, a smaller backpack on my front, a titanium laptop case, and me…running as awkwardly fast as possible; all the while dressed in full winter garb. I got to the point where my legs were burning about 3 minutes in and my throat was closing up from the cold air and large, panting breathes. Rounding the corner to the coach station I witnessed first hand the departure of a bus headed for Gatwick Airport. The very bus I was intended to be on and held a ticket to ride! 6 pounds later, I was not on that bus.

I made my way to the information desk, already knowing that the next bus didn’t leave until 5:15 a.m., a hefty amount of time past the latest I could leave London to catch my 6:45 flight. The guy at the information counter told me that the next train would not be leaving until the same time, cutting things extremely close…not to mention pricey. I walked back to the Victoria Train/Tube Station in hopes of getting on the only train that could get me there in time, still wheezing from the marathon I had run just a few minutes earlier. Not to mention the copious amounts of sweat under my stylish pinstriped London trench coat.

Arriving at the train station, I learned there was a train leaving at 4:30 and I felt a bit of relief that I actually might NOT start off my trip by missing a flight. Having quite the reputation for it in the past, it was nice to not have to perpetuate my airport shenanigans any further. Little did I know it would come back to haunt me once more in the near future.

After £24.00 for the Gatwick Express Train, plus the initial £6.00 coach ride that…ah, …never road, I had made it to Gatwick. Delirious from being up all night I checked my bags in, got the only food in the airport (McDonald’s McBreakfast!), and made my way to the gate. Once I got on the plane, I was past the point of no return in terms of getting sleep, so I read Scar Tissue for most of the flight before I ended up crashing. (I know, I know, bad choice of words for a plane ride). When I woke up, I was over Rome! Talk about a sight to see. Beautiful.


DAY 1 - Rome

As I deplaned I was damn near hallucinating. I collected my backpack from the luggage bin, took one last look to make sure I had everything from behind the seat, and made my way down the stairs onto the tarmac. As I stood inside the airport, waiting to have my passport checked, I felt surprisingly light. Then I felt sick. Then panic! Then the mad dash began once more. I had left my 4,000 dollar laptop on the plane under my seat! Leave it me. Fuck.

I ran like a bat out of hell (well, they fly, but you get the point) back down onto the
runway area, up the stairs and onto the plane. Now, normally, I don’t run unless I’m being chased, and this was the second time in less than twenty four hours I had done so without being involved in a pursuit. As I got onto the plane a steward was walking down the isle with my case. Thank god. In fact I did, seeing as I was in the midst of the holy city. Jesus! I’m one lucky bastard.

I changed some money, and met up with some fellow American travelers while I waited for the bus to take me to the train that would eventually lead me to the center of Rome. Whew! Progress.

When I made it into the city, I found the hostel with ease and began my eager wait for my Zachary Eisner Mannon. As I waited I managed to have a great Italian lunch that consisted of pasta with egg, and bacon (carbonara)…it was almost like “Italian Breakfast Pasta.” When he finally showed up we were so stoked to see each other, at which point we began the never ending realization faze of the trip, “Hey, can you believe…WE’RE IN ROME MAN!”

At around 7ish Zach’s special lady friend (da bear!) showed up on a train from the other Roman airport, Da Vinci. I slept in the train station while we waited. Very nice.

The “we’re here” realizations continued as we made out way back to the hostel and dropped off Sheryl’s stuff. She is definitely a hyper little fire cracker. After getting all settled in we walked around the area and found a little place called the “Julius Caesar Pub.” We tipped the bartender unsure of the tipping policy, and ended up getting some free pizza at the bar. After a few glasses of wine we were all beat tired, at which point we walked back to the hostel and crashed out. Sleep, glorious sleep.


DAY 2

Now, waking up late is certainly one of my fortes. This day was no exception. Thankfully, everyone was just as jet/travel lagged as I, so we strategically positioned ourselves in bed until about 10:30 in the morning. When we finally drug ourselves out of bed, and made it across the street to a tiny pizzeria. At this point I was feelin’ pretty damn good to be in Rome.

We left after having some great food and started out journey into the ancient city. Our first stop, the Coliseum. As we walked in the direction of the great stadium, we traveled through the modern streets of Rome. Covered as far as the arm can reach with graffiti, the majority of which was in English, I was constantly looking back and forth in amazement. The melding of the modern and the ancient was astonishing to me. To see this progressive social art form melded to the surface of thousand year old buildings might seem sad to some, but to me it was a sense of progression. A comment on how the people of this great city had evolved.

As we walked down the boulevard, I looked down a side street only to see a huge ruin in the distance. We knew we were close to the Coliseum, but the street seemed to come up too soon to be one that would lead to it. We decided to walk towards it, only to realize that once we got closer we would know for sure. Unreal. That is the only word I could use to describe the sight. We stood in amazement for a minute, before making our way down to the base of the structure. We walked around the perimeter for a while before deciding that the 10 euros was worth going in and seeing the interior of the structure.

The inside was completely breathtaking. The history incased in this arena hits you like a ton of bricks. To know what went on in the confines of the arena is completely mesmerizing and by standing in the same place as people from 2000 years ago, you get the chills beyond anything you have ever felt. The one thing that bothered me, however, were the amount of modern elements that have been built into the infrastructure. They have covered almost a third of the center with wooden platforms that hide a lot of the catacombs that dominate what used to the forum floor. Running across the center of the forum is a wooden bridge that just looks out of place. From looking at the postcards in the gift shop, it seemed like a few years ago it had held onto the ancient aura of what it felt like as a complete ruin, not yet “ruined” by an attempt at making it more tourist friendly. Overall, I was definitely impressed though.

We left the Coliseum and made our way up to the Palatino, the home of the rulers of Ancient Rome. Perched high above the city, this place was a paradise. Lush green landscape, fountains, amazingly old trees, and great views. As we looked over the city we really hade no idea what we were looking at since we had yet to see any other part of the metropolis, but it was still out of this world.

While we were on the hill there were a bunch of orange trees covering the countryside…and I was hungry. I decided to eat one of these oranges. Now, the orange looked ripe from the outside, but this was not the case. It was the most tart thing I have ever had in my mouth. Bad move Blake, bad move. I officially have no enamel on my teeth. Sorry Mom.

Now as many of you know, I am not what one would call a “rule follower.” Every time we would come to an area with some ruins, there were fences, gates, and walls, all designed to separate you from things you weren’t allowed to get close to. To me, this is an open call to misbehave. With no one around to watch you, they are asking for it…I mean, come on! We made out way into some closed areas and this was by far the most exciting on the ruins that I saw. The degree of fear really made it that much more invigorating. I was able to see and touch things that the majority of the visitors never even came close to. Good stuff.

As we walked back to the hostel after a long day of sightseeing we were taken back by an amazing sight in the center of town. Millions of birds flying through the air, creating thick, fluid shapes that dominated the sunset lit sky. At times they created almost vein like shapes that would flex and expand with almost eerie complexity. Awesome…….awesome. I would have taken some photos of them, but they only come out a dusk, and they are moving so fast that it did not translate well to film. Oh well. I think you’ll be satisfied with the rest of my shots.

We then decided it was time to enjoy our first cup of Italian coffee. Not much to say here, except it was absolutely astounding. In the cappuccinos foam, the barista drew a naked women for Zach, and a heart for the lady. Very well done I must say. I had a latte, so needless to say, no nudity for me.

Later that night we went and had some dinner at the restaurant down the street from the hostel. In this restaurant, I proceeded to have the best pizza in the world. Quite literally. Spicy salami and artichoke hearts. I have now formed a loving relationship with salami, and we are both very happy. Need I say more. Quite a large change from the 1 pound pizzas I have been sentenced to in London.


DAY 3

Not that I hadn’t taken a shower yet, but I am taking this opportunity to say that the showers in Rome, and all of Italy for all I know, have the worst water pressure in the history of the world. It would almost be more satisfying to fill my mouth with water, and spray myself down with it. It’s as if in 2000 years time, they still have yet to involve plumbers into their city’s infrastructure. Oh well, the fantastic drippin system got me clean in 30 minutes.

After getting so fresh and so clean, the Spanish Steps was our first stop for the day. Being as lazy as we are, we stared at the top of these gargantuan steps and made our way down. There was of coarse an excellent view from the top, and as we traveled down the harassment began. Zach was the first victim. Armed with multi-colored thread, they delimited us with military like precision. Before we knew it, our index fingers were surrounded….uh, with string. Let the braiding begin. At first there were fears that they had other intentions for the reason that there was more than one other guy that came up after the first had made their initial moves. We told them the entire time, we weren’t interested, but to no avail, we were sucked in. Luckily, we actually had no money on us. He told me that for his 30 seconds of unwanted service I owed him 5 euros. I politely told him to go fuck himself. The entire time Sheryl was chased in a circle around the madness by a third stringman. We made it out alive, but we will never be the same.

After escaping, we hiked down to the river that runs through Rome, the Tevere. Making our way down some steps we walked along the river in almost complete solitude. No one in sight. It was really peaceful, as we inched closer to the second stop of the day,...the Vatican.

As we approached the Vatican we walked directly across Via San Pio X bridge and up towards St. Peter’s Square. The view from the street was pretty incredible, as we got closer to the smallest country in the world, Vatican City. I for one was truly excited to see the Vatican after reading Angels and Demons just weeks before, a book mostly based within the walls of Vatican City.

Once we got into Saint Peter’s Square, we had had about enough. I mean, come on, it’s a circle. As we entered the Vatican we had the pleasure of seeing the lights stream in through the windows with miraculous precision, cascading across the open interior of the grandest monument ever constructed for the glory of God. Why people have such a commitment to showing their artistic ability through the realm of religion, I might never truly understand. I’ve never seen so many unhappy angels. A little confusing. It was daunting to see, and quite overwhelming, but definitely not my style.

We left feeling holier than thou and took a stroll up Via Del Gianicolo, south of the Vatican, up a large incline. We walked a ways up until we settled on a place to initiate the Paris Protocol. In accordance with my cousin Rob’s wonderful advice, I once again initiated the protocol. This involves the distribution of wine, cheese, and bread among friends in a serene, low budget environment. Let me just say, it has not once let me down.

After eating we started walking back across the city to our hostel, in between we stopped off at another crucial site seeing…..site, The Pantheon. This was cooler to me than the Vatican for sure. It was so sweet to see other, less prehistoric buildings surrounding the old Pagan church. Conveniently, the Catholic Church adapted the church into one of their own some time ago, but the pagan symbols still riddle the interior. The building was so old and considerable in size it was just stunning.

By the time we walked away, we were beat tired. I had been suffering from shin splints from the run to catch my coach days earlier, and I was ready to go and get some rest back at the room.

We had met some cool guys from St. Louis at the hostel and later that night we met up with them. Zach and Sheryl decided to stick around in the room and have a chill night, while I was as usual, up for anything. So John, John, and I took a walk to a restaurant, Itlaian of course, and once again enjoyed some amazing food. It was nice to have one of the Johns around due to the fact that he had been living in Italy for close to 4 months at this point. With his Italian abilities and knowledge of the city, it felt a lot less intimidating.

After dinner we hopped onto a bus and made our way to the other edge of the city. Thanks to John, the bus was free. Apparently, no one but tourists pay for buses. We got off the bus and walked about five minutes to a hookah bar/restaurant called Sheesha. After chilling there for an hour or so, having some good conversation, we decided to call it a night. All of us had to leave early the following morning, and we felt we had closed our time in Rome appropriately.

The walk back was great! Seeing the city at night was probably my favorite experience in Rome so far. Plus, John was like a goddamn tour guide of sorts! Instead of historical dates and lame facts, he had the dirt of ancient Rome. Rumor has it that in order to bring women in the Rome after it was built in the early years, the men of the time decided to go to a neighboring development and drug the entire city. When the men of that community woke, all of their women had been abducted and taken to Rome. And so it began. Good to know, huh? I thought so.


DAY 4

We woke up at the butt crack of Dawn on Thursday in order to make an 8:45 flight from Rome, Caimpino to Geneva, Switzerland. Unfortunately, it was early enough. We ended up missing our flight out of Rome, and the next flight departing for Geneva wouldn’t be leaving until 12 hours later! 12 HOURS! Now I have had some bad experiences with airports, but this, this has got to take the cake. At this point we decided it would be fun to go into the small village of Caimpino and walk around for a bit, get a taste of the small village life and see how it juxtaposed itself with that of Rome. We got into the city with our huge backpacks strapped on and 12 hours to kill. After cruising around for a bit and using an internet café to email the hostel we would be late in arriving at, we settled in a small bar for some food and coffee. I worked on my computer getting some of my first writings done and after three hours, they asked us to leave. We started walking, following the road signs that pointed to the aeropuerto, in hopes that we would stumble across a bus stop that would take us to the airport. We walked for about 15 minutes until the road started getting so narrow that we were in danger of being hit by buses that were flying by, ironically taking other people to the airport. Zach and I decided it would be a good idea to try and hitchhike, seeing as the airport was only a few minutes drive from where we were. Walking was out of the question because of the highways that were involved.

Welp, hitchhiking might not be a universal thing. No one picked us up and they seemed to not even understand what we were doing. Most of them looked as though they were trying to tell us to, “Get the fuck off the road!” or “Who the hell are these jackasses!” Oh well, we gave up and began walking back the way we came. At this point I had realized that my Spanish was more helpful when communicating with someone that spoke Italian than English could ever be. I spoke for a second with this shop owner once we got back into civilization, and he told us there was a bus stop 10 meters down the road. We hadn’t seen one, but we started walking.

We got about 30 feet down the street and stopped. As we stood there, in the front of a petrol station, trying to figure this all out, a guy in a large van pulled into the parking lot. He looked over at us and said. “You guys need a taxi to the airport?” Now, he must of seen us hitchhiking or something, because he most definitely wasn’t a taxi service. When I asked how much, he told me that it was, “Uh, um, ten Euros.” Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, alright buddy. We told him we weren’t interested and then proceeded to ask him if he knew where a bus stop was. He informed us that it was at the train station in the center of town. You could see the frustration in his face, and at this point we knew he was lying. We stood there a minute longer and then realized that we were actually at the bus stop! Can we say, “Retarded!” We got on the bus and eventually got back to the airport.

By now we had killed about half the wait time, leaving us with 6 hours of waiting. We still had a bottle of wine left over from our picnic, so we cracked it open about half way through the waiting. I took the opportunity to get waste deep into my journal, writing about 2,500 words about the trip thus far. Obviously, I didn’t get this far because this is in past tense.

We got on the plane, thank god, and arrived in Geneva at around 11:00 at night. We took a free train ride to the center of town and hoofed our tired asses all the way to the hostel, about ten minutes walk from the train station. Shower, shave, brush teeth, and sleep. Ahhhh.


DAY 5 - Geneva

We woke up early today. Oh yea, early. It was nearly nine o’clock. Good god. Peeking out the window we noticed it was raining and cold. Well, the cold realization came after putting a hand out the window, but you get the idea. Zach and I decided it was time to indulge ourselves in a McDonald’s breakfast…great minds think alike. So, after showering and all that nonsense, we started walking through the hyper-clean streets of Geneva. When we arrived at the local Mickey D’s, they had stopped serving breakfast. Looking at the lunch menu baffled me right down to the core of my soul. People, a Big Mac meal, with a medium drink cost 10.50 francs. That is just over 9 dollars. SWEET JESUS!

We decided we would find a grocery store and get food for the next few meals in order to save some cash. We made breakfast back at the hostel which had all the amenities of a kitchen at home. Egg sandwiches it was…home made McBreakfast for all! Delicioso.

Man, I could not break free from the Italian/Spanish that I had been speaking and as a result the confusion had peaked at an all time high. Si, Wi, Merci, whatever. None of it was making any sense any more.

After breakfast we went to a local hooka/kabob shop and enjoyed a round of Passion fruit sheesha. I enjoyed myself, but Sheryl wasn’t feelin too hot and she actually had to clean out the pipes while we were still in the restaurant, puking in the cleanest bathroom of her entire life. Oh well, shit happens…and so does puke.

Our walk continued down the main street, past the train station, and across the river. It was sweet that from the river we could see the main attraction of Geneva, a 450 foot tower of water that shoots out of Switzerland’s main body of water. If I knew the name of the body of water, or of the fountain, it would be inserted – here – .

At this point it is raining pretty good and quite cold as we make an attempt at doing some interesting touristy activities. Zach was interested in checking out the Museum of Anthropology, so we decided to venture to that area of town. When we got there we got some horrible news. It wasn’t open for another 6 months. That didn’t really fit into our Geneva schedule for the time being.

We continued walking and when we got back near the main street we stumbled across a huge flat ground skate park. Half pipes, quarter pipe, kickers and table tops. The pinnacle of the skate park experience came not from the the watered down park itself, but from the graffiti that littered the area. Some really amazing artwork.


SIDE NOTE:

Since traveling to Europe I have become obsessed artistically with a few key features. To list them Simply; Lamps, Leaves, Trees, and by far the most dominant, graffiti. For some reason, wherever I am, these things pop out at me. God only knows why, but I am really loving this stuff. You might notice in my photos…but yea, if you don’t, your pretty slow.


After chilling at the park for a few minutes it really started to rain so we decided to head back to the hostel and get some rest, so as to be able to go out for the Friday night festivities. After stopping at a café for some coffee and ice cream, we started the journey back through the rain, across the river, and up to the front door of City Hostel Geneva.

After taking an extended nap, I got my ass out of bed and started cooking dinner. Even though we were no longer in Italy, the desire to have Italian food had far from faded. I made speggeti with meat sause and had a beer or two with dinner. It was nice to cook again after spending entirely too much money on food through the coarse of our trip thus far.

And now for a little injection of some craziness. As we sat enjoying our eats and drinks, into the kitchen walks a random hostel dweller. As he got to the sink and turned to face us, I was blown away to see that I knew this person. Mr. Joel Rinsky, my freshman year dorm next door neighbor, had somehow booked himself into the same hostel, at the same time! To think you can go as far as Geneva and run into an old friend only goes to show how small this little planet is.

Joel came and hung out in our room and watched Gladiator on DVD with us on my computer before heading out to the bars. When we got to the bar Zach and I had already put a few back, but Joel was still lookin’ to get his buzz on, and luckily they don’t mess around in Geneva. For 40 francs we engulfed ourselves in a tower of beer nearly 4 feet tall. This thing was massive, with its own tap, and between the three of us, we were done in for the night. After we decided we had had enough, we began the stumble home. Along the way we treated ourselves to a much needed shwarma at the local kabob shop.


I can’t say that I was impressed overall with Geneva. I would like to come back though and do a trip around the entire country. I felt like the city is not the place to be in a country as beautiful as this, and that the mountains and outdoor atmosphere of the summertime here would be spectacular. I can only hope I get to come back and have some more extensive travels through the countryside while the weather is nicer and the dollar is stronger. We shall see.


DAY 6

Waking up today knowing it was again going to be cold and rainy made it easy to decide to slept in, in an effort to catch up with the delirium of traveling so much. When we finally zombied out bed, we had a bit of breakfast that was left over from the previous morning. Then we proceeded to pack up our backpacks, and get ourselves ready to head out.

We had one last thing to do before we left. Seeing as Switzerland is the chocolate capital of the world, we went to the store, and bought ourselves some chocolate of coarse. Milk, caramel, cherry, truffle, of did they have it all. I got about 1 kilogram of the sweetest chocolate in the world (pun intended) for about 10 dollars. Yum.

Heading back to the hostel, we picked up our bags in order to start our trip back to the train station. Once we got there, we waited on the train platform for the train to take us to the airport. I jumped onto the tracks for a minute in order to get a shot of the tracks from a really low perspective. Was kinda scary when the train started to come down the tracks though, on account of the fact that it was a high-speed train. LOOK OUT! Turned out looking pretty cool. See pictures and judge.

After arriving at the airport I got deep into my book, Scar Tissue. I had a little over two hours to kill considering after we missed our first flight, we wern’t gonna fuck around with missing another. Man does Anthony Kedis have one crazy life story! Just endless stories of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Scary at times, but inspiring at others. His poetry, music, and drive to be successful make me more inspired each time I read.


DAY 6 - Paris

Following a long day of travels we landed in Paris in the evening of Saturday the 18th of December. We took three connections on trains and subways in order to get to the first hotel of our trip that we were going to be staying at for the next three nights.

This place ended up being right in the heart of Chinatown. Now, I don’t know if this is common knowledge or not, but it seems that there is a China Town in every city in the world. That is just mind-blowing to me. I had no idea that there were large enough communities of Asians across the globe to warrant China towns for each major city on the planet. Guess I was just misinformed.

Hungry had stuck once more so we walked out into the world that is Paris to find something to quell our appetites.


SIDE NOTE: Why is that one must eat all the time? Why can’t one just eat when one feels inclined to, out of a longing for a tasty meal…and not a dire hunger? It seems to me that this would make more sense. Maybe this thought process comes out of a financial necessity to have this discussion, but either way, someone should look into this. OK? Great.


We made our way through China town, looking at menu after menu and after a few 10-12 euros meals, I had personally had enough. I made the suggestion that we see what prices McDonalds was offering in this country, so that is exactly what we did. It was actually quite reasonable compared to Geneva, so I was sold. I treated my self to what they call a “Maxi Best of ‘Big Mac’” meal deal of sorts. I was so hungry I might have died, but after I ate that Big Mac in under 2 minutes flat, I felt way relieved to have some food in my stomach. We have been so busy seeing the sights that hunger goes unnoticed in the middle of the day and we end up skipping lunch most of the time. In reference to the previous side note, you can imagine how ok I am with this.

After this hearty meal we went back to the hotel, showered and crashed out of shear exhaustion. Sheryl ended up puking once more from a salad she ate at McDonalds. We all think she just had some weird stomach bug and she ended up getting better the following day.


MORE TO COME WHEN I GET HOME ON THE FIRST! ALONG WITH AN UPDATE ON MY MEETING WITH THE ART GALLERY. STAY TUNED, and if you made it through this one, I will love you forever.


B