Archive for the 'Random Travels' Category
Hello all! Wow can you believe it’s been almost a full month of me not posting on here. Well rest assured, I am fine. I have actually had the most full month of my life that I literally did not have the time to write about it. So I do apologize for this. In the next week or so, I am going to do my best to recap the past adventures. From Carnival in Cologne, to one night in Paris, to the amazing city of Bordeaux, the Spanish Basque country… Oh there’s lots to talk about.
After I stretch myself back into shape, I board a plane so tight, that my laptop is jammed against the seat in front of me and the other end jammed into my gut. Thankfully I moved my seat so I had no neighbor in front to recline. Otherwise I don’t think I’d be typing this right now. In fact I might just stop as this is not a great position.
So I am heading into Helsinki to give my life a moment of stability. For the next month minimum I will reside in Finland. I’ll help Maria get things going with her Dog Hut and will try to get myself settled with all my trip plans. I just can’t wait to sleep. Sleep late and long and as many days as I want. Are you reading this Maria? I’m sleeping the first week.
Alright, this computer is not working here so I’m off. See you all in Helsinki…
So the train ride through the Alps ended up being pretty uneventful. Nice scenery, some cute mountain towns, but nothing outer worldly. The one piece that does continue to stick in my head…..NO FRIKKIN SNOW! I could’ve ridden across! Damnit! All well, it might’ve ended up being sketchy, because the roads were wet and it did get dark quickly as the journey through was quite long. But man, I could’ve done it.
So I make my transfer in Verona and hop on my train to Milano. Again not a whole lot of excitement, I just have plenty of time to do a bit of writing and thinking about this trip of mine. I have only been at it for 1 week so far, and already I have met some wonderful people, and had some pretty memorable moments. I’m really glad I decided to put as much down on this site, as to not forget all that does happen.
Arrival at Milano Central Station begins yet another adventure. As it turns out, Italians don’t like to label anything. At all. First I have trouble just getting out of the building. No exit has a street name or area associated with it, just little white men running on green backgrounds. So as I hinted to before, I was able to contact a Milanese couchsurfer by the name of Carlo Rizzante. I ring his handy and he informs me that the 1 line address that he had previously texted to me was all I need to get to his place 300m away. I question him on the directions and he answers quickly making me feel like I really should know what I’m doing.
Sooo, I venture off into one direction, and cannot find a street sign. So I go back into the station and look around for a map station. None. Ok, so I go out a different exit hoping that this exit was the side that had street signs. Nope. Alright so back into the central station and finally find a map station. The only maps they have are the bright yellow, fold out to the size of your living room kind. Still being pigheaded, I decide to give it one more go before putting on the tourist cap. Mind you I am carrying a fully loaded backpack and lugging a quite large and heavy duffel bag over my shoulder. I’m worried about the tourist cap, but yet I’m already wearing the cape.
So my third attempt yields about as much as the first two. Now I’m getting tired and pissed. I go back inside, purchase the 4Euro bright yellow map and find a dark corner to hide in. I open up a map larger than my first apartment and try to quickly and precisely find the central station. Nope. Are you kidding me?!?!? I turn it over and over and finally just fold it up and jam it into my bag. I can find this place even if it takes me all night.
So I venture back out into the dark streets of Milano hoping that pure intuition will lead me to my destination. About five minutes in my pilgrimage, Carlo texts me again asking how lost I am and that he is home waiting for me. Deciding to forgo any ego that I might still have, I call him up and ask for directions again. Well as it turns out I can’t even seem to locate myself well enough in the city to give Carlo a chance for giving me directions. Rather he has me wait in front of a large hotel while he has to come and find me. Milano 1, Mikie 0.
So Carlo finds a completed defeated version of me out front and guides me to his flat. As it turns out, Italians don’t use street signs. They put the names of their streets on the corners of the nearest building to the entrance of the street. Chiseled stone signs the same color as the building they are stuck to. How could I ever have missed them?
The one major difference I’ve noticed between Italians and other European nationalities I’ve been around is their comfort level. That might not be the right way to phrase it, but I’m not sure how else to put it. Whenever I’ve hung out with a group of Finns, Swedes or Germans the language seems to always be in favor of my presence, meaning English. Very courteous and polite but different altogether from how the Italians behave. Not that they were being rude by any means, but rather seemed more comfortable in speaking their native tongue with a non speaker in the room. Whenever something pertained to me or was just interesting in general, someone always filled me in and made sure I understood. But with the other nationalities, it seems like they are uncomfortable with speaking in their tongue, with a non speaker in the midst. I appreciate both ideals for different reasons. With the Italians, I know less of what’s going on, but don’t feel like such an inconvenience to the ones around me. With the others, I am fully aware of all conversations and feel very much part of the conversations, I feel a bit guilty that they must always cater to my lack of knowledge of their language.
So as you might have assumed by now, it was not just Carlo and myself for the evening. First off, his on/off girlfriend Gabriella stops by. Tall, slender and quite stylish, Gabriella was what one assumed an Italian woman living in Milano would look like. Next arrived Jocopo (sp?), Carlo’s roommate. And then finally, Valentina. Valentina Giordano to be precise. Valentina is actually a couchsurfer from Bologna, Italia who had actually surfed with Carlo and Jocopo a few weeks prior. She was in town again as she is looking for a flat, and was invited over for dinner.
What might be just a regular evening for these guys, as they have been constantly hosting, was quite amazing for me. Even though I didn’t speak the language well, I felt very comfortable being amongst this group. First Jocopo started cooking as Carlo set the table and popped open the first bottle of wine. Yes the first, implying that there might be more to come. Conversation as with most Italian dinners tends to be the main objective. We all just sit around, talk and drink the wine. After a little appetizer consisting of fresh bread and Russian salad, dinner is served. Penne is a fresh tomato sauce with brie melted into the sauce. Short on ingredients, but not flavor. The rest of the evening was spent killing some more wine and getting more relaxed with one another. Nothing crazy, just a really good night with friends. What more can any couchsurfer ask for?
As I need to leave the flat to go to the airport at 4:00, I decide to stay up and get some work done. We all say goodbye and goodnight as everyone either leaves or heads to bed. I get a bit of work done, then decide an hour nap wouldn’t kill me.
Confused yet? Yes I am going south through the Alps to get to Helsinki, Finland. I know, Finland is that country where Santa Claus comes from to the North. So why am I going south? Well it appears that Munich is one of the most expensive cities to fly out of (yay Munich!) and I am trying to be, well, cheap.
So as I have a crack team to the north that works day and night locating inexpensive travel routes to Finland, I woke this morning to a lovely email from Maria and Annette mentioning a cheap flight out of Milan to Helsinki. All I needed to do was take a train south and I am home free. And that’s where we are now. So thanks you two!
So I leave my second couch and begin searching for my next. I can’t get over this website. Well, not the site but the people attached to it. I have met so many wonderful people that have done nothing but offer me tremendous amounts of hospitality and help. Not to mention great times! This trip wouldn’t be half of what it is, without all the couchsurfers thus far. In fact, I’m contemplating never paying for rent again and just surfing from couch to couch around the world. Don’t worry ma, only kidding. (maybe)
I just left a beautiful flat, in downtown Munich that is owned by Brie, couchsurfing global ambassador. Brie is a professional woman who has devoted a part of her life to this phenomenon that we call couchsurfing. Not only did she help me out, she did so while in the process of hosting another guest. Chloe, who is this absolutely sweet and adorable dancer from San Francisco that was in town for a few weeks dancing with a Munich dance company. We ended up sharing the living room consisting of one futon (Chloe’s) and a standard couch (mine). And for all of you out there that are saying to yourself, “Oh that poor Chloe”, you can stop now as she sleeps with earplugs.
Well I suppose that’s all for now. I am taking this train to Verona, Italy where I transfer to another train heading into Milan. Once I arrive there, I will be greeted by my next couchsurfing mate Carlo, whom I will be spending the night on his couch. Then I grab a nice early train out of Milan and should be greeted by Maria early Wednesday morning.
Wish me luck.