The Land of Biscuits and Bantering, IE Bristol

This past weekend I had to opportunity, or I guess made the opportunity fit into already jam-packed schedule, to visit my dear friend Carmel in Bristol, England. Arriving on Friday evening around dinnertime, I had a plane booked to depart at 6AM Sunday morning. Talk about a short but sweet trip! With all the travelling I’ve been doing and have yet to do, however, it was all I could manage. (And plus the airline messed up my booking so I lost a day.)

Friday night was a quiet night. We ate dinner in, met up with a few of her friends at a local pub, and went in early to get some shut eye. The next eye we began our adventures. 

This is from an artist who goes from city to city painting on buildings. 

Carmel took me all around Bristol … and shopping which I’m sure was a big mistake (however, I WAS in desperate need of some clothing items so maybe a good thing). I managed to resist the first two stores she led me into, but then, I was warmed up. It’s OK. I have a job in Germany now and I will work more when I arrive home as well!

Yum!

Anyhow, that night we had dinner at a local Asian Cuisine place which was delicious as I haven’t have Asian food since arriving in Europe. After that we meant her friends at another local pub where they insisted I taste a sample of the local cider. It was pretty delicious!

Then, Carmel, a few of her guy friends, and myself all went out dancing! At about 2AM, remembering that I had to catch the coach to the airport at 4AM, we heading back to Carmel’s to pack up my things and grab some grub at a food stand ‘opened late’. Haven’t not slept, I took the coach (wait, in American English it is Bus), and headed for the airport. Once there and through security, I hustled to my gate, set my phone alarm for 10 minutes pre-boarding time, hugged my bag, and took a catnap. 
*Does anyone else find it a bit funny and ironic that as the sun was rising outside the airport window, "I'm Leaving on a Jetplane" was playing in the background speakers?
Anyhow, I managed to sleep from before take-off to after landing (only an hour and a half but still good).

In Amsterdam, where my connection was, they speak Dutch, not German. Man is it different! Now and then I would catch a couple words similar to German, but Dutch is way harsher of a language than German is. I had to explain to many other American travelers that what they were hearing was, in fact, not German. I don’t want the bad rep German has of being an extremely harsh language wrongly perpetuated!  

I didn’t get to sleep on my next flight, or my train ride home. However, on the train I did get to warm-up my German again with two long-haired Swiss hippies.  

Back in Konstanz, after eating and beginning homework, I set an alarm for a quick hour-long power nap … only to be awoken 5 hours later by Remy, who knowing me too well, figured I accidentally slept though everything.

It was a short, whirlwind of a trip, but fabulous nonetheless!

Weekend with the French ... again

            After spontaneously discovering a trip to Lyon this past weekend, I deciding to take it even though I’d only been back barely a day and a half from Rome. After a string of transportation, and the meeting of many-a-kind of people, Remy and I made it to the city. I feel the need here, however, to insert a bit about each of the interesting fellows we met to and from Lyon. There was a German man with kein Beruf (no occupation) but to travel and work from his computer designing websites. He has no permanent home, but lives currently based from Italy and has travelled to places as far as both America and India. We actually had many interesting conversations both in English and German, but he also spoke French, Italian, and who knows what else. If only I knew so many languages! We also met an Austrian who was on his way to a rock climbing trip! Woo hoo! He and his wife also live on the Bodensee (Lake Constance/Konstanz) and they invited both Remy and I to visit and climb by there home. This is perfect because I have my shoes and harness dabei (with me), but no rope. We met a nice French, cat lady (the term “cat lady” not used in a bad sense, her cats were really very adorable). And also a group of guys from “the ivory coast” who got along well with Remy, but didn’t seem to capture the concept that, really, even if they spoke slowly, I don’t understand much French (this is in progress, however).  

            Well, those were the characters on the way there. On the way back, only a couple small groups stood out. For instance, a Swiss (but born in Belgium) lady who absolutely depised capitalism and wasn’t afraid to really speak her mind, and a Turkish family living in Germany with a very talkative 9-year-old daughter. The lady and I actually ending up hitting it off in the end with quite the conversation about environmental issues and the ways of going about bettering them, and the young girl allowed me to practice my German skills and helped with small grammar mistakes I still make. She’s used to it, since her parents aren’t native Germans and she has lived there since she was born. Plus, I taught her how to make funny faces, and I forced Remy to join in.

            As of Lyon, it was relaxing and simply fun. We slept late, hung out in parks, sat by the river, danced, and jumped off of a 21 meter bridge. I’m learning more French all the time, but it’s still lucky that Remy’s friends can all speak English as well.

The church and "eiffel tower" on the hill. The tower is only a few meters higher than the church and was built as a symbol so that the church wouldn't be the highest part of Lyon.

One of the cutest dogs I've seen since being to Europe.

An American flag!? Am I home?

Dancing with Tristan in the America-themed bar.

Goofballs.

The room of mattresses where nearly everyone slept.

Standing on stairs outside while a stream of water two inches deep swept down the stairs and street.

The brave before the storm.

Remy and his friends in a park overlooking Lyon.

The bridge we jumped from ... but it looks a lot smalled from far away. 21 meters looks VERY high when you are about to jump from it. Don't worry, Mom and Dad, I watched many others do it too.

Rome: Luck, luck, luck ... until it runs out

After enough gelato and pizza to feed a small village and many adventures, Monica, Britt, John, Eddie, and I have returned from Rome. What a wonderful city! Also, what a city filled with American tourists! I think I met more Americans there than all the others I’ve meant since coming to Europe put together.

We flew in on Wednesday evening and got to the hostel around 11PM. The first thing I did when getting the room was check to make sure I had cleans sheets, and after that, I was happy. Sure, the shower would only be utterly burning or extremely frigid, there were rats squeaking in the walls and a bird nesting in the vent, and there was mildew in the shower, but hey: I was in Rome, and I had clean sheets. 25 Euros a night and a 5 minute walk to the Coliseum, for what more could I ask? The Italians running it, along with their American and English employees, were incredibly helpful and friendly.

           The first morning, we got up bright and early to get a head start on the Vatican (having heard horror stories of long queues). As luck would have it, we just beat the crowd and waited only 20 minutes. By the time we got out hours later, the line looping all over the place.

The Vatican

After climbing 551 treacherous stairs, this was the view from inside the dome looking into the church.

The stairwell instead the dome was crooked. I felt like I was in Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.

Vatican Square

Super efficient group that we were, we managed to get in the Vatican, the Sistina Chapel, the Fontana di Trevi, the Spanish Steps, and the Pantheon all on the first day on foot. Our feet killing us, we ended the day with a long, delicious, traditional Italian meal at a small restaurant down an alley and away from the touristy areas.

Fontana di Trevi

Inside the museum before going into the actual chapel.

We walked back by the Fontana at night.

Kaputt feet with crazy tan lines.

            The second day was just as productive and more enjoyable (if possible). We saw the Coliseum and all the old Roman ruins. We also had a cultural experience of the disorganization of Italy mixed with a language barrier. We bought tickets for a guided tour underneath the main part of the Coliseum. They sold us tickets for the Spanish tour. They told us to wait an hour, and there would be another English one: it was an Italian tour. Instead of waiting another hour and finding out it was Russian or something, we embarked upon the Italian tour anyhow.

I was so tempted though ...

The floor of the Coliseum

At night we saw a movie being filmed and a guy riding on a ridiculous bike with his bull dog in the basket and his weenie dog running along side (so luestig!) When in Rome …

The third day, we spontaneously decided to buy tickets to Serrento, Italy a couple hours away and take a ferry from there to the island of Capri. It was unglaublich (unbelievable): a beautiful island that no picture could do justice. I felt as though I was inside of a postcard. We took a two hour boat tour around the island and a canoe into a blue lagoon (the Blue Grotta). Of course, the prices were spiked upward, but hey, if the people pay, they will charge it.

On the ferry.

The Blue Grotta. The water was that color or even more blue.

The fourth day was the cherry on the sundae. I awoke before everyone else so I could beat the rest of the hostel’s inhabitants to the one lone computer and surf the extraordinarily slow internet for “What to do in Rome on a Sunday?” I discovered that the Pope was giving a blessing at 12PM, and that the Catacombs were open in the afternoon. Perfect! I awoke the others to get ready and we decided, due to our horribly sore feet and tired bodies, that we would use the metro for the first time. When we got to the metro station, we were surrounded heaps of people in pink shirts; mostly guys, but a few girls too. A bit puzzled, we boarded the metro. A few stops went by and then, at the fourth or fifth one, everyone of the pink characters began cheering excitedly. As they all began to shift off the train, we looked at one and other and declared, “Hmm … I don’t know where they are going, but I sure want to find out.” And off we went! We followed the cheering crowd out onto the street to the Spanish steps only to find even more pink shirts holding banners and flags. This is when we discovered that it was the day of the Italian professional soccer league’s championship. What luck we had! So we hang around the crowd for awhile, all of the crazy Italian’s asking the Americans (us) to take pictures with them and chanting “Forza Palermo!” (that was the name of their team) the whole time.

Eventually we separated from the mob and walked a huge park in Rome with artwork, mini lakes, a zoo, etc.

After, we thought we would grab dinner and then, head to the Olympic Stadium where the game was being played and see the excitement going on outside of the stadium.

This daughter of some other tourists was rocking out to his guitar playing.

When we arrived, although we had no tickets and even if they weren’t sold out, they would have cost around 200 Euros, I thought we should just ask to see the game. What’s the harm in asking, right? The first guard I talked to told me we should try back in the last 5 minutes. I was excited because that was more than I expected to get! But then, the thought of milling about for an hour spurred us to go to the other side and ask other guards. As luck would have it, we asked the one guard who turned out to be German. Once we spoke German to him, we were in! He took us through the gap-zone (in case anyone hopped the fence they would have a far way to go before the next real gate so they would be seen), and led us to the next. We had brought the pink jerseys along with us, but we were entering the opposing team’s side so they told us we’d better change our shirts before we went inside. Luckily, we’d brought a change of clothes along randomly. So, in we went to “the Super Bowl of Italy”! We couldn’t even believe our luck. How did we get into the game when the tickets sold out months ago and cost 200 Euros!? It turned out we were sitting on the side that ended up winning so we got to go crazy with fans once again in the stands.

Outside the stadium ...

... inside the stadium.

            Afterward, we almost lost Britt but do to quick thinking prior to everything, we picked a just-in-case meeting spot before entering the stadium and reunited there. With all the adrenalin running through us we walked the hour and a half back to our hostel in the city (we also had many previously gelatos to fuel us).

            The last day, we just milled about Rome a bit, got a last meal, and flew home. On the Alps from my window from above: gorgeous! 

            All was well and good. We had had so much luck the entire trip. It has to run out at some point though, right? And it did. We got to the airport and discovered that the last bus to the train station left an our before. After using a taxi to get to the station, we then found out that the last train to Konstanz had left an hour before as well. We were stuck in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere (RyanAir flights are almost always from the middle of nowhere) three hours from Konstanz for the entire night. Except … a train to Ulm, a bigger city an hour closer to Konstanz, showed up! Monica and I jumped on to keep the door open so the others could use the machine to buy tickets. Each time the door would close, I would push the button to open it again right away. They needed help so Monica jumped off to do so, but this time, when I pushed the button to open to door … it didn’t work. Monica and I made panicked eye contact as the train began to ride away, me in the cabin, my friends still outside. “Well,” I thought, “I guess I’m going to Ulm!” Too bad my phone was the only one that could call out since the others were either dead or had no money credits left on their prepaid accounts. After calling them, I received a notice that I also had only 2 Euros left on my account not to mention my battery light started blinking.

So, I ended up in Ulm, thinking to myself “what shall I do now?” It was now nearly 11PM, and everything in Germany closes extremely early with the exception of bars. I asked some people in the train station if they knew of any hostels and was told that they were only hotels for about 80 Euros a night. For one, I don’t have 80 Euros to throw around (especially after going on vacation and spending so much). For another, I had only 10 Euros on me. I decided I would walked towards a huge church I could see in the distance and just keep asking people on the way. Hey, if I found nothing, maybe I could sleep on a church bench. It’s better than a sketchy train station, right?

Well, after asking around, ringing many hotel doorbells, etc and so on, I finally was directed towards an little hotel right next to the beautiful church called the Spanische Weinstube, advertised as having employees who could speak both Spanish and French. That does me a lot of good … but since I was in Germany, I could speak that too. Phew!  The small hotel was only 35 Euros a night, clean, quaint, and friendly. What relief flowed through me!

Outside my hotel.

I settled into my room, got clean, and read until I drifted to sleep. Too bad there was no clock and my phone was dead so I couldn’t set an alarm; guess I wasn’t making it to my 10AM class! I’d have to catch the 6:45AM train and I knew that going to bed at 1:30AM wasn’t about to lead to a spontaneous 6AM wake up. I did manage to awaken at 7:45AM though and was given free breakfast in a nice dining area. Afterwards, since it was too late to make my class anyhow, I decided that since I was in Ulm anyway, might as well explore the place. Ulm is a wonderful town right on a river with many cute nooks and crannies, not to mention a silly legend about sparrows which has prompted them to put sparrow statues all over the place.

In some spots of the city, small creeks and rivers ran around the houses.

So many sparrows ...

Anyway, around 2:30PM I finally arrived in Konstanz and walked home. Now, here for a day and a half and then, off to Lyon!