The End. Or Is It?

This is to be my last Queen Mary post. I know, sad, isn't it? But I'm fully installed back in my home now, so the magical adventure is officially over.

I'm very glad I studied abroad, and would recommend it to anyone. Well, unless there was someone I really didn't like, then I wouldn't recommend it to them because I wouldn't want them to have a good time. Ya, I feel it's necessary to point that out.

I'm really going to miss my London friends though. Dave, you were as good a friend as I could have asked for, and I hope you come and visit sometime. Antoine, if your English is good enough to read this, you were a great friend too, and made me run farther than I ever want to again. Lewis, I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye, thanks for being my friend. Georgina, haha, I'm sorry I didn't come upstairs to say goodbye, I'm going to miss you. Anushka...I love you. Yo Charlotte, what's up. All of you guys, and any other good British friends that I may have forgotten, or any USC kids I met over in London, and any USC kids I met in LA, or anybody really, should come to Oregon to visit. I have a great place for you to stay, and I would love to see you again. These pictures should entice you to come have a stay.

I went on a hike yesterday in the burly mountain wilderness which surrounds my hometown. The trail I found was too snowy to follow all the way to the top, so I turned around about halfway and took some pictures. On the way down, I took advantage of my lonely location and started belting out "Something" from The Beatles. "Something in the way she moves, Attracts me like no other lover, Something in the way she moo-ooves me, Don't wanna leave her now, Don't wanna leave her now, do do do do do do" As soon as I got to the highest 'do' and my voice cracked, I saw a guy standing on the path about thirty yards ahead, just staring at me. I promptly turned off the vocal pipes and apologized for the singing. Needless to say, it was a little awkward.

And on that note, I may continue to keep a blog. I haven't decided yet. I surely won't update it as often as I did this one, because my life probably won't be as exciting. But I'm positive my life will continue to contain more of those awkward moments than I know what to do with, and I think, the gift I have for creating unique, uncomfortable social situations needs to be shared with the world. So I might keep a blog in the future, and I'll put a link up here if I start a new one.

And that's the end. THE END. Roll credits: Director: Kevin Maloney, Producer: Kevin Maloney, Main Actor: Kevin Maloney, Lighting: Kevin Maloney, Typing: Kevin Maloney, Jokes: Definitely Kevin Maloney

Flight Home

I should have posted this two days ago. It is an account of my journey home.

For the sake of symmetry, let’s get some statistics out of the way: 2311 miles from LA. 36000 feet. London local time: 4:51 pm. LA local time: 8:41 am. Ground speed 553 mph. Outside air temperature: -57 degrees Fahrenheit.

NOW. Down to business. This is to be the first unpublished blog for two reasons: first, I want to include my entire trip in the final post, and I would be unable to do that right now; second, I want to bask in the unchecked glow of the self-righteous irritability invariably inspired by long air travel. [As you can probably guess, I failed in my resolve to make this my first unpublished post.]

I’ve watched two movies so far. Frost/Nixon, which was good. It was interesting to see the inner workings of television and debate, and how mind games play a huge part in the proceedings. The historical aspect of it also interested me a lot; and disgusted me. Next, Seven Pounds, which was AWFUL. You know that part at the beginning of many movies where you don’t know what going on for about five minutes, and you gradually figure it out? Ya, that ‘confusing beginning part’ in Seven Pounds lasted about 90 minutes, or roughly 17 TIMES longer than most movies. All we find out is Will Smith is really sad and likes to hang out around hospitals. The moral implications of some of the interactions bothered me as well. At one point he called someone on the phone and badgered them, demanding they “tell me how it really makes you feel!” to which the man responded in the typical way, “Uh, what? You’re crazy, uh, wanna buy some meat?” (He was a meat salesman.) From this exchange, Will Smith deduced the man was a good person. What! It bothered me because in Fight Club, there are similar exchanges which result in the subject cracking and being shown the error of their pathetic, tepid life. But no, not in this movie. It seems Hollywood could at least do us the service of providing a united moral front. Later, Will meets a woman with an ill heart. She is quoted saying she doesn’t think she deserves another heart because she is unremarkable. Will Smith replies by saying he shares a similar degree of self-loathing, and because of this, they become friends. What the deuce?

The idea behind the movie was all right (Will Smith kills himself and gives his body parts away) but it was such a terrible movie! Another two viewings would be required to tie up all the loose ends, and I’m not about to do that because I have no desire to darken my considerably bright aura. Also, he completely blows off his brother and essentially ruins his career! And just runs off to kill himself! What a crappy movie! The whole reason he’s so sad is he killed his new wife by texting and driving at the same time. I think the real strength of this tale would be revealed in bar-story form, where it would be told as, “Dude, I knew this guy once who got in a car crash and his wife died, and then he just went crazy, started finding sick people and stuff, and he would just go up to people and do nice stuff for them for no reason, and then after like a month he just up and killed himself with a jellyfish and gave all his body parts away! No, ya, really! A jellyfish! No seriously, my brother was friends with his one of his brother’s roommates, and he said….” See how awesome that would be? But as a movie, it’s just banal, and stupid, and laughable, and dingy…It makes me feel like moaning in disappointment, which I will do now. Ehhhhh……

In other news, I’ve learned that six hours on a plane is my essential travel barrier between quiet tolerance and restless irritability. Loquacious irritability, maybe, as evidenced by the past movie rant. I hope the lady behind me can’t read what I’m writing. I was seated in economy in a middle row with five seats. Three are filled: the two on the end and mine, next to the left end. Leaves two seats; my companions and I can do some sweet stuff with two extra seats, right? Wrong. The lady who is sleeping on my shoulder right now chose to move to the seat next to her, then lean over the armrest into the other open seat. So, now I’m sitting in the middle of the middle seat, unable to lean against the armrest. The lady has like nine of those little blue pillows too. I’m going to draw a picture to accentuate my point and release my irrationally fierce anger.

There. That feels better. Actually, this is hours later. I had a nice conversation with the woman in that seat. She taught me how to make pad thai. She was pretty cool after all.

I watched Gran Torino. It is a good movie.

Now I’m in San Francisco for a couple hours before my flight to Klamath Falls departs. I talked to a guy who owned a company which insures banks on the flight from LA to SF. He was pretty friendly. Everybody always wants to tell me how cool they are though. It wasn’t until after the conversation that I realized he was a story-topper. He kept telling me about all these smart people he knew and slipping in the fact that he owns a business with one hundred employees. I guess it’s not necessarily bad attribute, I’m just not the type of person who tries to impress people I meet. He was just a tad rude, not answering my questions. He seemed honest though, which I respect. Haha, he was talking about how some engineers have no social skills and they’re really hard to talk to. He knew I was an engineer, but he didn’t know that I don’t have social skills. Hehe, sucker, I got him good. But he was all right, we talked about the difficulties of balancing a family with work. He said it was very difficult, and I fully believe him.

I had to bite the bullet in London and pay an excess baggage fee for the third of my three bags. It was 128 pounds, or roughly 200 dollars. Absurdly expensive. Working the most lucrative job I’ve ever had, it would still take me two full days to make that much money. For fifty pounds of luggage. Four dollars per pound (weight pound, not money pound). Or, twenty minutes of work per pound of luggage. That’s a nice way to think about it. I carried my luggage, one pound at a time, across the Pacific and back to Oregon over a two-day period. Sounds awesome.

I spent my first American dollars in four months on a sourdough bread bowl and a bottle of water in the SF airport about half hour ago. It felt good, and strangely enough, a quarter looks really foreign to me right now. But it feels good to have American money again. Any American thing I see now just makes me feel so good inside, haha. It’s just a giddy feeling to come back to someplace so familiar to me.

I fly over Eastern Oregon to reach Los Angeles before returning about seven hours later.

Free Phone

Today is my last full day in London. It’s hard to believe the time went so fast. I’ve been here for four and a half months, and it feels like I’ve spent hardly any time at all here. I’m sad to leave, but I’m very excited to get back home. I think I would like to live in London sometime in the future though. My appreciation for London grew, rather than shrank, as the semester went along. I will definitely return, and I hope that time comes sooner rather than later.

I had to run some errands today before leaving town, and Dave came with me. I love Dave. I love you, Dave. I’m going to miss you and your ways. We first went to the Beatles store and the Sherlock Holmes stores near Regent’s Park for some postcards and some gifts, and we walked around the park for awhile, looking at the flowers and the waterfowl. It wasn’t a very nice day, but that seems fitting. London should be in its most common state as I say goodbye to it.

After Regent’s Park, we got off the tube at Whitechapel. I wanted to sell my cell phone to someone in the market there. Little did I know, my cell phone is worthless. I asked five different guys and I was refused five times, all of them repressing a laugh when I asked them if they would buy it from me. The last man, when asked if he would accept it for free, just so I could be rid of it, refused, but helpfully pointed out a trashcan if I was desperate to leave it behind. Dave and I decided fashion was very expensive; which, in turn, is why my phone is worth nothing.

Next we went to Sainsbury’s so I could buy a supply of digestives to take with me to the United States. After much deliberation, I decided that nine packs, or roughly 180 cookies, would carry me pretty far. They cost three pounds, total. I’m going to miss digestives, but after today’s trip to the store, I won’t be missing them for at least another month.

I don’t have time to make this my last post, which should be appropriately gushy and meaningful, so I’ll save that for another time. And I’ll have to talk about my glorious return to the USA. Anyway, Dave and I are headed to the pub for our last meal. Goodbye for now.

People of Cadiz

Met some cool people tonight. I´ll elaborate later. Talia, Talia´s mom, Jocelyn, David, the two Italian guys, the two Finnish guys, Kieran the New Zealander, Scott, Rob the Canadian surfer....I think that´s all for now.

I guess I´ll elaborate now. I have three hours before my six AM train leaves for Jerez, from where I´ll board a bus to Jerez de la Frontera (an airport), and thus to London for one day of packing, then from London to Los Angeles, LA to San Francisco, and SF to Klamath Falls. Quite a stint of traveling I am about to embark on. Anyway, I thought it might be a little more worthwhile to stay up for a couple hours and head to the train station rather than fall asleep and rely on my feeble watch alarm to wake me up.

Cadiz has been really cool. Today I slept until around eleven. It was the complete opposite of my first night here. My room was empty, and the place quieted down at two in the morning. I got a great night of sleep. I asked some of the workers for some suggestions for activities today, and the owner of the hostel told me about a tower in the center of the old part of town which is worth a visit. I went. It has a veranda which offers a view of Cadiz in all directions, and it is beautiful. The main attraction was something called the Camara Obscura. Using a mirror and a slit in the roof, they created a projection of the view onto a curved viewing surface in a dark room just below the veranda. It was really cool. You could see people doing their laundry on rooftops, and the focus varied depending on slight adjustments of the viewing surface´s height. I also met a couple there from Oregon and talked to them for a while.

After the tower, I walked to the waterfront and strolled along the water on the outskirts of town. It was cloudy. I bought a pizza and enjoyed it in a small park near Ellie´s school. I wandered some more and eventually returned to the hostel to read a bit before Ellie came to pick me up to go hang out with her and her friends while they worked on a project. She was worried I was bored while she worked on her project, but it´s nice when traveling just to be with friends and relax, not necessarily running from landmark to landmark. So it was nice. Especially because Talia offered me some free food from her host mother, who doted on me like one of her own. I had some pasta-garbanzo bean-soup and some bread, and some amazing melon, and some crackers and cheese. It was awesome, even beyond the level of awesomeness which free food automatically receives.

Ellie´s friend Jocelyn offered to take me out tonight, so we met up and went to a couple different bars. I met David the surfer, who was a cool surfer from Cadiz and spoke just a little English. It was a good opportunity to practice my Spanish, which is still pretty abysmal. Jocelyn speaks fluent Spanish and French (and English), of which I am very jealous. A couple of Italian friends of hers came to meet her later that night also. It was an interesting encounter. One spoke Italian and Spanish, the other Italian and French, so Jocelyn could speak to one at a time, and then there was me, who has almost mastered English and still largely remains ignorant of the magnitude of my ignorance. It was fun though, if difficult.

Tonight (or this morning) at the hostel I met some cool people too. I talked to Kieren (pretty sure I butchered his name), a New Zealander hanging out in Cadiz for awhile, and Scott, an Australian street performer (marionette puppets) also hanging out. They both work at this hostel. I´m pretty jealous of these perpetual travelers. There were also a couple of Finnish people, who taught Scott how to say ´I am a dirty mermaid´ in Finnish. Wholesome world travel, no doubt.

And now I just said goodnight to Rob, the very cool night watchman of sorts around here. He gave me his beer to sip on as I wait the long two hours until my train leaves. I don´t know what to do. Youtube maybe. Ellie if you ever read this, I´m so glad you showed me around town and shared your cool friends with me. I had a great time in Cadiz.

Cadiz

Hello, my devotees. I am in southern Spain right now, visiting my friend Ellie for three days before heading back to the US. The day of travelling yesterday was pretty harrowing, but I am happy to be here and Ellie is an excellent tour guide, although she has a lot of schoolwork to do at the moment. I have a nice sunburn on my legs today because we spent three hours at the beach, so I have, yet again, learned my lesson about sunscreen.

I have been once more reunited with the crazy European keyboard, lacking easily accessible apostrophes and question marks. These symbols though, ñ¿, are around. I guess this keyboard specializes in Spanish, because those are the only weird ones I can find right now. And another thing! About Spanish. I thought I spoke Spanish! That was a very silly, irrational thought. Even so, I could have gotten by all right before I went to Italy. Today, while trying to converse with the native Spaniards, I realized I learned just enough Italian to ruin my peremptory Spanish. My instincts are stuck in ´va bene´ and ´grazie´ and ´dové il...´ It´s very frustrating.

The hostel I am staying in is in a great spot, in the center of town, but I do have some problems with it: the main problem being that the music didn´t stop playing until roughly 430 am last night, while I meekly tried to fall asleep at 130. Also, I have had the unique opportunity of discovering the intensely squeaky properties of the typical Spanish hostel bunk bed, properties especially aggravated under the certain stress of an alcoholically-impaired female boarding the top bunk at well nigh five in the morning. Needless to say, last night was a little rough. So now, I´m typing downstairs until this bleepity-bleep music stops playing. If only I weren´t eighty years old....

I figured out the eccentricities of this keyboard. If you hit the apostrophe key twice, like so, you get an apostrophe: ´. If you hit it once, followed by a key able to be apostrophicized, you get that letter, apostrophicized (and ya, that´s a word, and a cool one). See look! óṕáśẃéŕýúíóṕḱĺńḿćźçǵ. Cool, huh¿

That´s all for now.

Happy Birthday, Mom

My mom's birthday was yesterday. Last year, I got her a very thoughtful present, I thought. I got her a bunch of ridiculous fabric from the LA textiles district and brought it home after school was over for the summer with the idea that we could make a quilt together during the summer. She was less than thrilled. It turns out a quilt is a little more work than I had anticipated. I haven't had any recent updates on quilt status, but last I heard it was yet to be finished. I finished about half of it before I left for USC in the fall, and left my poor, overworked mother to finish the rest of it. Oh, and the quilt is for me. Haha. Great present, huh?

Anyway, she gave us a list this year. I wonder why! I bought her a much less-cumbersome present though, this year, with some help from my brothers, so I hope she likes it. She deserves much more than what I can afford to give her, but hopefully the sentimental gifts like our love, and the thought of a really nice gift, as opposed to an actual really nice gift, will suffice.

She also has it a little rough on presents because her birthday is always very close to Mother's Day, so of course she gets less than she would if these two days were spread out a little more. But gifts are a little silly once you get older; even for me, I have basically everything I really need. It's probably more important during this time just to show my mom that my brothers and I care about her and really appreciate her for everything she's done for us, like send us to college and raise us all that stuff. So, before the eyes of the world, thank you Mom. I love you. And I think Matthew and Jeff love you too. They haven't gone out of their way to tell me, but I think it's implied.

Studying Kinda

Another long day of studying. I took a break today, though, to go to the daily mass at Westminster Abbey. It is called Evensong. The first Evensong service I went to was at St. Paul’s Cathedral, and it was spectacular. Well, today I found out that Wednesday is the Westminster Abbey version of Saturday mass: no singing, just a quick half-hour service of standing and sitting and I was on my way. Even my plan of sticking around after the mass to get a free glimpse of the Abbey didn’t work very well. They had the service in a preliminary area which was blocked off from the rest of the Abbey. I tried to explore but was immediately confronted by a stern clergyman demanding six pounds. I’m not the caliber of man to carry that luxurious amount of cash around on my person, so I left ill-satisfied. I did, however, see where Charles Darwin is buried. It’s amazing how close the history is over here. I really wanted to see Charles Dickens gravesite, but I certainly didn’t want to see it bad enough to pay six pounds for the sight.

I had another food breakthrough today. I get the feeling that my brainpower is being misused during these days of studying. My notes sit spread all around my desk while I try to find excuses not to look at them. Excuses such as cooking, watching Scrubs, writing blogs, cooking, watching Avatar, stretching, trying to do upside-down pushups, watching The Big Bang Theory, taking a shower, organizing my room, talking to friends, downloading music from Disney’s Jungle Book and The Lion King….The list goes on and on, and those are just excuses I used today. Anyway, on to my food innovation.

I realized a while ago, on accident, that apples taste really good with tomato soup. (No, I didn't accidentally drop an apple in my soup.) Today I was making this culinary masterpiece, and I decided I also wanted a grilled cheese sandwich. But we don’t have a grill, and I didn’t want to put it into the oven because I’m afraid of the oven. (I’m just taking things one step at a time in the kitchen: this semester I conquered the stove; I'm satisfied with my progress.) So, I thought, the pot will be hot when my soup is done warming up. Why don’t I set my soup on top of my sandwich, and by the time I’m ready to take a bite of my sandwich, the cheese will be melted!

If only the world worked the way I want it to in my optimistic mind. The cheese was only melted a little bit. But I’m willing to try it again tomorrow, because, let’s face it, we all know I have nothing better to do.

I also saw a squirrel today, and I have provided evidence.

Cabin Fever

It’s one of those days again. One of those days where I have nothing better to talk about than what I ate. I’ve been studying (sort of) all day, and it has been a little bit drab. I went running though, this morning. It’s not a fun thing to do, but it keeps me from getting too restless the rest of the day.

Anyway, I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this little invention before, but I created a new type of sandwich awhile ago, and I’d like to share it with you, in detail, right now. It involves peanut butter, jelly (not very exciting yet, is it? But wait for it…), Nutella and digestive cookies. Yep, I went there. And I have pictures to prove it. I guess I really don’t have to explain how the sandwich is made. I put the peanut butter and Nutella on the same piece of bread, and the jelly and the digestive cookies on the other side. It's pretty simple. And pretty delicious.

I studied for awhile today. It was not fun. I get stir-crazy. I just can’t sit still for long periods of time. I can’t watch movies, for the same reason. Unless they’re really good movies. Anyway, for the thermodynamics test coming up, I technically only need to score 40 of the 100 points to pass, so I’m not that worried. I am a little worried, because it will be a difficult test, but I’m pretty sure I won’t fail. My classes transfer to USC as pass-fail. I only need 70 points to get an A on the test, so we’ll see what happens. I still have two days to study though. I’m going to go crazy if I sit in here for another two days. I think I might go on an adventure tomorrow. I still haven’t really been to Hyde Park, or inside Westminster Abbey. I would like to do those two things before I return to the good old USA.

Dave is all done with his exams and papers and everything. He taunts me often.

Comedy Club

Matthew left yesterday morning after staying with me for a week. It was very nice to see him, and just the right amount of time to visit. We had fun and didn’t have enough time to get sick of each other and revert back to our natural relationship as fighting brothers. His plane flight left England at one, and arrived in Seattle at six. It must have been a loooong day.

I made some tea with the hot water I used to boil my pasta yesterday. It would have been good, I think, but I salted the water before putting it in the tea cup, so that wasn’t so nice.

I went to a comedy show last night with Dave and a couple of his friends. It was very good, we saw five or six comedians. The headliner for the night cancelled, and they were able to fill his spot with a pretty famous comedian. This guy eventually ended up putting the microphone into a glass of water and breaking some of the stage props. It was very funny, but I’m not sure how happy the comedy club people were about that. It was a very good night though, all the comedians were really funny.

Ice Bar Superman

Today was exciting. We began by revisiting the Beatles store, following my instructions all the way to the wrong tube stop before re-boarding and alighting at the correct stop. Matthew wanted to buy a money clip from the store, and we didn’t really have anything better to do today than go back there, having already seen everything in London. That’s right; everything.

Except for the Ice Bar of Haddon Street! But we did that after the Beatles store. I had heard rumor of a bar made completely of ice, and the rumors proved true. We showed up around two in the afternoon (we get started pretty early over here) and paid just over ten pounds for a drink and forty minutes inside a small bar completely made of ice, bedecked in special parka-capes made especially for the occasion. It was pretty cool; literally! Ha! That was Matthew’s joke. We took lots of pictures inside, and drank our drinks out of the sculpted ice glasses. The room is kept at a constant -5 degrees Celsius (around 25 degrees Fahrenheit), but with the parka things we were warm enough.

There must be something about Matthew which draws the attention of street performers looking for volunteers, because after leaving the Ice Bar, and walking past Big Ben, across Westminster Bridge, and continuing along the South Bank, both us were picked out of a crowd to volunteer in this man’s act. We and two other men sat on crates facing in different directions, and by laying back on each other’s laps, the crates were removed and we supported each other with just our legs from the knee down. Then, the performer pulled a lady out from where she lay underneath us and had us hold her up above us! Wow! And then she was removed. I think we were supposed to do a little bit more stuff, but one of the volunteers was an older guy, and I don’t know for sure, but I think he fell down when we were asked to raise one foot off the ground. We all tumbled down together at the end. It was fun, there were probably about one hundred and fifty or two hundred people watching. Matthew must look like he belongs in the circus or something, because he sure is popular with those street performers.

This evening we headed back to Brick Lane for one last curry dinner. We picked a place which didn’t quite measure up to the previous two we had visited, but the food was good.

Oxford

I know inquiring minds want to know what Matthew and I have been up to, so wait no longer, here’s the latest news.

Yesterday, we went to the Natural History Museum of South Kensington and walked around. We have differing architectural tastes. Matthew prefers the busy Romanesque architecture of the Natural History Museum, whereas I am much more inclined to appreciate modern architecture. And since, as they say, the bloggers write the history books, I get to plead my case. Modern architecture is more honest. The material defines the building style, whereas, in classical architecture, the style is replicated in whatever building material they choose. Classical architecture takes less critical thought. Furthermore, many of the old-looking buildings in London were actually built in the late 1800’s, so even though they have stone exteriors, they have iron or steel frames. Very dishonest. But I couldn’t convince Matthew that modern architecture was worthwhile, he had very strong convictions that classical architecture is just “cooler.”

Anyways, we saw some cool things at the museum. We walked through the mammals section, and through some reptiles, just browsing, and walked past a gigantic slice of a redwood tree all the way from California, and ended up in the rock and mineral gallery, where we saw some meteorites and a cursed gemstone. There are some amazing rocks! Some of them which form as perfect cubes, or bubble outward, or shoot upward like towers. They were amazing, and here are some pictures.

Afterward, we went to St. Paul’s for the Evensong mass, which happens every evening at five. It wasn’t as cool as the first time I went, because we didn’t get to go sit in the pews near the altar, and they only had half the choir there, but it was still nice to sit underneath the dome and look around the church during the mass.

We set off to find a pub one of Matthew’s friends had recommended after St. Paul’s, and eventually walked over halfway back to Mile End along the Thames looking for it. But we found it! It’s called the Prospect of Whitby, and we were able to get some quality pub food, Matthew’s alleged favorite cultural food group. It was founded a ridiculously long time ago, in 1520, under the reign of King George VIII. There is a picture of a sign in the pub which shows how long its been around. We walked the final two miles back to Mile End after leaving the pub, and bought tickets online to visit Oxford, which we did today.

Oxford is a small college town. It has an active, young atmosphere, and all the old buildings really struck Matthew’s fancy, as he described it. University of Oxford seemed to spread all over the town, and we accidentally avoided paying another four pound admission fee to explore part of it. We found another way in, and didn’t realize we were supposed to pay until we left. What can we say, I guess we just reaped the spoils of outsmarting the prestigious University of Oxford. There were some gorgeous gardens on the campus, which we walked through for awhile. We wandered the town for the rest of the day, stopping in a pub with a bunch of drunk Oxford rugby players at one point, and eating dinner at a pub named The Three Grapes. We boarded the train to come back to London at about seven thirty and got in an hour later. We walked up Brick Lane this evening and were accosted by no less than ten men trying to sell us curry as we walked along. The first man very emotionally pained that we weren’t going to eat in his restaurant. But we finally made it up and down the Lane, and walked back to Queen Mary.

Jack the Ripper

What a day! I started it out with a math test at 10 am. It was the last math test I will ever take! I do have tons of regular old engineering tests to take, but the actual tests devoted to math are now over. I think I did pretty well, but I didn’t know how to do one problem, which was frustrating.

Matthew and I left after my test to go exploring. First, we went to Regents Park, hoping to visit the London Zoo and a Beatles store. We found the Beatles store after a short search, and Matthew bought some presents. We continued into the park, which is gorgeous. I can hardly imagine a better living situation than to be on the edge of this gigantic park, in the middle of this great city. Unless of course, you lived in one of the unused underground tubes. Now that would be awesome.

We found the London Zoo, but decided not to pay the 20 pound admission fee. Instead, we looked at the zoo animals through chinks in the fence. We saw a giraffe, and a ferret, and some flamingos, and then we found a waterfowl section in the park, so we saw as many ducks and geese as we could want. I think it is mating season, because they were restless. We walked around in the beautiful park a while more, then headed off to Harrods, my dad’s favorite place in London. And it didn’t disappoint Matthew. The quarter-million pound wristwatches really tickled the accountant in him, I think.

Tonight, we went on a Jack the Ripper tour. The murders were surprisingly close to Mile End. They were in Whitechapel, between Queen Mary and the main city. It seems there were five official murders, with one other which could have been the same man. They were gruesome things. He did not stop at murder, but he really butchered the bodies. We saw some pictures of his murder victims, and they were pretty awful. It was a very interesting tour, though, and I think we’re both happy we went on it. Afterwards, we went on a mini pub crawl, looking for a couple of famous London pubs. The first we found, called The Anchor, was on the south bank. It was all right, but we were both a little more impressed by Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, on Fleet Street. We sat and had a drink, and, after looking for the famous barber of Fleet Street, came back to Queen Mary.

I’ve asked Matthew to do a guest blog, but I don’t think he’s interested. So, as penalty, I suppose I have to spin the story to my advantage. So here’s what actually happened today. Matthew was almost struck in the face with a speeding double-decker bus, but I scooped him out of harm’s way just in time, and rattled off some interesting facts about the bus as it hurtled past. What a tour guide.

Italians

Dave, Antoine and I were cooking together in the kitchen today and two salespeople walked in. To our kitchen! They said the housing people let them in, but that must be a lie. They pitched the wonders of paintballing to us for about five minutes while we all stood dumbfounded. I just stirred my pasta. Finally we told them no enough times that they left. I can’t believe they just came into our living area and tried to sell us something! It’s mind-boggling!

I have a test on Wednesday which I studied for today, but Matthew went to Westminster and walked around and it sounds like he had a good day. Tonight we went out to eat and drink with Dave, the Italian girls we met before, and another Italian friend of theirs. It was fun, the Italians are all very outgoing. It’s fun to hear them speak in Italian because all the Latin-based languages are very similar, and I know a little Spanish and a little Italian so sometimes I can understand what they say. We had a couple drinks at Witherspoons and bought a pizza at a nice pizza place nearby. Tomorrow I think I will study again, but Wednesday afternoon I will be free!

Portobel-No Market

Since I’ve returned to Queen Mary, it has become more difficult to write blogs, because it’s feels like I have returned home after being on vacation. But I’m not home, I’m still overseas and having fun, so I have to keep writing blogs. Oh how I wish my life would stop being so fun!

Anyways, I feel compelled to write because a topic of familial importance, namely the visit of my elder brother, has come to hand. He arrived last night around eleven, and was not too tired to walk down to Brick Lane from my flat and get some midnight treats from the all-night bagel shop. My mom called me as we were falling asleep because I forgot to call her and confirm that Matthew made it to my apartment. Whoops. Sorry, Mom.

We went with Antoine and our friend Giulia, along with her four friends visiting from Rome, to the famous Portobello Market today. We were less than impressed though. I don’t know if we found the heart of the market, but we only saw a few shops set up on the street in the Portobello area. There were many people around, but I think the main attraction was the assortment of established shops. It was not a very strong street market atmosphere. We had lunch at a Thai restaurant in the area, and Antoine, Matthew and I parted ways with the Italian girls because we wanted to visit Brick Lane today and they wanted to see Hyde Park.

Brick Lane was very cool, as usual. On Sundays it comes alive with street performers and shops set up on the street and in empty warehouses along the thin lane. Specially reserved for the Sunday markets, they are empty for the rest of the week. Today though, the two warehouses were full of delicious food, clothes and jewelry salesmen, and the place was packed with a young, trendy British crowd. It’s very fun to hang out in an area not frequented by tourists, but by a genuine London clientele.

Tonight I took Matthew (well technically he took me because he paid) to New Tayyabs, the restaurant to which I took my little brother and my parents. The food was just as good this time around, especially because I halfway knew what I was doing. It’s so busy! I made a reservation four days in advance, so we had to wait only five minutes for a table, but there was a long line of people without reservations waiting patiently for a table in this cheap, extremely popular restaurant. I’m sure I talked about it when my parents came, but it was introduced to me as the only restaurant on the list of Top 10 Restaurants in London where a meal will cost 15 pounds instead of 150 pounds. The food was great, and I’m very glad I had a chance to go back there again.

It’s very nice to have Matthew visit. We have no shortage of things to talk about, and I think he is enjoying London so far. I have a test on Wednesday, so tomorrow I will study, and Tuesday, if need be, I will study, but after that we will have a full four days or so to do whatever we like. This is good though, because this way he can do the things I’ve already done in London for the next two days, and we can do things together for the rest of the time.

No pictures today, I’m afraid. Matthew took some, but he’s sleeping on my floor right now. He’s so peaceful when he’s asleep.

Globe

I went to Romeo and Juliet today at the Shakespeare Globe with Antoine. It was well-performed, but, as the Globe is meant to be an exact replica of the theater in Shakespeare’s time, they sell many tickets for standing-room only. So we stood for three hours during the performance. We were very close to the stage and the action, so that was nice, but my legs were hurting by the end of the performance.

Links to Pictures

Last night, I went to the library to print a USC form I found the urge to fill out. I printed some study materials first, and then the form, and everything was groovy. I came back to my computer and began to fill out the form, and realized too late that I filled in the ‘Date’ location with the British version of the date, 22-4-09, instead of the American version, 4-22-09. I crumpled up the paper. I pressed the button to print another copy, and was met with a message which told me my print credit, which I had paid no attention to all year, had run out. I couldn’t believe it. So I asked a nearby person if I could print it on their computer, and they said yes.

…What? That’s the story. What did you expect? I was in a library, it’s not like I’m going to write about a high-speed car chase or something.

Tonight, a soccer ball was rolling past me and some kid asked me to grab it for him. I reached down towards it and remembered that’s not what you’re supposed to do with those things, so I kicked it promptly about fifteen degrees to the right of my target. The kid had to run after it. Whoops!

Here is the link to my pictures on Facebook. Let me know if there is anyone out there who can’t access these and I’ll try to think of a better way to do it. Also let me know if the link works. There are three different albums for all the different pictures.

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/photos.php?id=1452780044

Italy Recap

Back in London, I’m elated to be among people and places I know. The vacation was great, but I’m also very pleased to be home; at least, in the place I temporarily call home in this stage of my life.

I would like to talk about Italy as objectively as possible. There are certain things which I am expected to say (It was so amazing, I’ll remember it for the rest of my life, etc.) which, if they are true, I will say; but not otherwise. I have always tried to keep these blog-thingys as honest as possible. This is not Europe the way you or I want me to experience it. This is how I actually experience it; or, at least, I try to capture my experiences accurately. So, this is in an attempt to flesh out what I actually think about the trip through Italy, as opposed to thoughts I was expected to, or would have liked to, have had regarding my time spent there.

So, to recap, in Italian names: Venezia, Bolzano, Firenze, Roma, Napoli and Palermo. Quite a trip. I found that three weeks was not nearly enough time to see a decent amount of Italy, and so stand in profound wonder at those individuals who endeavor to see all of Europe in the same amount of time. If I had spent three weeks in one of the cities I passed through, it would not have been enough time to soak up the culture and the atmosphere of the surroundings and really feel as if I belonged in Italy. But I suppose I shouldn’t have expected to belong; I was touring the country, trying to see what it could show me. And I saw many beautiful things, but as I’ve said before, these lent no more perspective to my life than you would expect of a three-thousand year-old arch. It’s the people I met who affected me, and it is, chiefly, a better appreciation for, and understanding of, humanity as a whole which I have taken away with me.

I find that humans, the world over, are very similar creatures. Whether this is a good or bad thing is to be disputed. We all have similar desires and emotions, whether American, or Italian, or Pakistani, or Chinese. I think considering this perspective can yield some interesting conclusions about those around us who we seek to better understand. I’ve begun to make some preliminary assumptions about humanity: people want to be happy, and this desire leads them down different paths. Some acquire happiness through love, some through achievement, some through inclusion in a group. Sadly, some do it by putting others down. And this is not a reference to some repressed grade-school memory. It’s very much a part of the world, and there is nothing I despise more than arrogance. Some try to find it in money. I’m sad to say I can’t yet attest to whether or not money brings happiness, having none at the moment, but I hope to lend my unique perspective to this pressing issue as soon as I find myself in the appropriate research conditions.

I find, throughout my life, certain words, which I’ve known forever, suddenly assume meaning after some defining experience. These are the words on cheeky posters, like “Responsibility,” or “Courage.” I always thought they were ridiculous. But, during this trip, I came closer to understanding a few more of those words as I found the characteristics in people I met. These people, total strangers, were the complete embodiment of these attributes (generosity, affability, apathy) because I knew nothing about them which could complicate my perception of their character. Their whole persona was defined to me in one instant, and in this way, different words became applicable to each of them. Now, of course my perception of them isn’t true; the woman who helped me in the kebab shop in Palermo doesn’t wear a cape emblazoned with a silver K for kindness and fly around at night lifting dogs out of rock piles. People always reside in the gray areas, as our good and our bad attributes tend to offset, and all of us can be considered pretty good people. But this isn’t entirely fair, because it overlooks the peaks and the valleys. We are not the average of our kind deeds and our evil deeds: we are each of those deeds, kind and evil at once. None of them may be forgotten, because they are what define us. And this is how absolutes are created: if I know nothing more about the kind, generous woman who helped me for one instant, she, forever more, resides upon a pinnacle of integrity in my eyes, a guidepost, a role model. I am thoroughly convinced that nobody is perfect; but maybe each of us has his or her moments of perfection.

.…Let that one hang in the air for a second there….Little moment of silence….

Well then, on to some lighter issues. Here are some ideas which were genuinely spawned from my time in Italy, and they’ve already been patented, so don’t even think about stealing them.

I wonder if they make pizza with wheat bread. It opens up a whole new door towards producing healthy pizza; or, otherwise, pizza which people think is healthy, which is the real triumph.

I’ve discovered a way to stop time. No, not really.

After visiting a countless number of museums and churches and art pieces and sights over the past three weeks, I’d like to assume the role of art critic for a brief period of three sentences or so (You’re going to count, aren’t you? I would count, if I were you. Otherwise I could pass off, like, nine sentences as three. Don’t allow me that injustice.). In Florence, I came across a bronze sculpture of a boar. Many intricate places on its surface had been worn away, polished to a bright gold hue by the countless hands which ran over it. Obviously, you aren’t supposed to touch the boar, but people do it anyway, because they want to feel important, they want to feel close to the art. So, here’s the disconnect. Most art is best admired when left free from human intervention. It doesn’t like to be touched. I argue that the most influential artistic statement would be made with a piece that communicates with its audience, a piece which is enhanced, and not destroyed, by the human interaction it attracts. I haven’t done my research, but I’m sure there are things out there like this. Oh! For example, in Harrods, while my parents visited, there was a simple screen on the floor which followed your feet with bubbles as you walked across it. Simple, interactive, and fun.

So there you have it! My travels through Italy. I have too many pictures to share. I will put them on Facebook tomorrow, where most everyone who reads my blog, I think, should have access to them.

I’ve uploaded pictures to a few of my previous posts and may have made some slight changes, if you’re interested.

Agrigento

The umbrella salesmen are cleaning up lately. Its raining cats and dogs right now outside, but mercifully it waited until I completed my day of excitement to begin. Every other person I passed on my way back to my hostel today was a smug umbrella salesman, offering me an umbrella with a small smirk on their face. Yesterday I did buy one, because the salesman helped me out and lowered the price from five to three euros as I walked away. And it was pretty handy, because I was still pretty lost, and in the middle of a downpour. But its not much use to me now, warm and cozy in the hostel.

Today, I had it in mind to visit Agrigento, where I was told there were very cool Greek ruins. I headed to the bus stop and talked to a gruff man in an information booth, who muttered a couple of words through the tiny hole in his bullet-proof cover. Another man put his change in the window, looking to buy a ticket, as I stammered. Italians, as Hannah also attests to, dont understand the concept of a queue. I left, because obviously the guy didnt want to help me, and walked around. Eventually I made my way to another information booth, this one occupied by two helpful looking older ladies. Older ladies are my social forte. They are just so friendly! And these two were no exception, helping me find the bus station to the ruins, which I promptly ran off and caught.

It was a two-hour ride, followed by a forty-five minute local bus ride, which should have taken five minutes but neither I nor the bus driver did his job, but lo and behold, I arrived at the scene of the Greek ruins, which were wholly worth the trip. Two of the buildings in Il Valle dei Templi, the Valley of the Temples, were almost completely intact, and there were remnants of many others. These temples, in the lush green Sicilian landscape, were gorgeous. Ill put pictures up as soon as I can.

As my grandma pointed out, Im one quarter Sicilian, so I have every right to consider this trip a dramatic return to my homeland. Actually, I would be thrilled to spend a considerable amount of time on this island sometime in the future. Everything here is green, growing like mad, and the landscape rolls with hills and rocky promontories.

My times almost up and now I face the prospect of heading back into the rain for a pizza. I think Im going to the beach tomorrow, so hopefully it clears up. I noticed its 91 in Los Angeles right now. Damn.

Palermo

Whats up guys. I wrote a blog on the train to Palermo which I cant post right now because I wrote it on my laptop and Im in an internet cafe right now, unable to get the blog off of my laptop and put it on the computer Im currently using. And I cant figure out how to make apostrophes. Im pretty upset by that. Anyway, there will be a blog before this one about my train ride and such.

But I have a bunch of time on this computer, so I might as well write a new blog right here. Arent you excited(question mark) As far as recent blogs go, I dont like the lack of pictures. I really only write these stupid things so I can put up sweet pictures, and without them I think my blog loses a lot of its...picturesqueness. But enough dillydallying, on to todays blog.

I went to the catacombs here in Palermo today and saw tons of dead bodies. It was a strange place. As one of my current roommates pointed out, it is not necessarily spooky inside the catacombs, just eerie. Which is counterintuitive. I expected to be really upset, looking at a bunch of skeletons, but I couldnt muster up any genuine horror. After the catacombs, I took a nap on a park bench, cementing my status as a European bum. I woke up after a half hour and walked up the main Palermo street, Via Maqueda, to see the main sights. I first came to Teatro Massimo, a big theatre. Of course I figured I should see a show in the theatre, so I enquired about the cheapest tickets and was told they were 10 euros, which I deemed to be a sound investment of my financial backerss money (backerss: the money of the backers. no apostrophes, remember). I gave the guy 20 euros and received 15 back. I havent been out of school long enough to miss this mathematical error, but whether the mistake was made in sympathy or in earnest, I didnt find out because I was already headed out the door.

The show was very interesting. It was an opera. In German. With an Italian translation projected on a screen above. This translation was very helpful to me, as you can imagine. I fell asleep again during it for a couple minutes, but I did enjoy the experience (the theatre, I mean, not the sleep, though it was also nice). The theatre (Ill put pictures up later) had seven different layers: the floor and six balconies which stacked vertically straight upwards. It was built in the late 1800s and I felt like I was going to see Lincoln sitting across from me. I was in the very top balcony, so it was a little hard to see, especially because the seats were set a little ways back from the edge of the balcony, so I had to lean forward the whole time. I got the gist of the plot: it was a love story. I cant tell you much more than that, but Im glad I went all the same. I got to see some genuine opera singing. This wasnt exactly a life goal of mine, to see some good opera, but it was pretty cool. There was a very good orchestra playing too, so I got to listen to them.

Im going to bed early tonight! Goodnight everyone.

Train

Nice people are everywhere, and friends are easy to make. This is a lesson I can’t help but bring away from this vacation because it has been demonstrated and iterated everywhere I go. Maybe it’s only true of Italy; that would be a shame.

Right now I’m on an overnight train to Palermo, my last stop. I will be spending three nights there before flying back to London, where I will begin to study for my tests! My last two days have been pretty quiet, but I will go over them to humor you.

Two days ago, on Friday (?), my new friends John, Brianna and Stacy and I were planning on heading into Naples for the day to see what could be seen. But, after exploring a park in our area and walking down to the water, the tone was set for a lazy day and we could do little to overcome our stagnant mindsets. We mostly hung out in the hostel, relaxing, enjoying pizza, watching movies. It was nice. When you travel, you are compelled to go and have adventures in a new place, but they had been traveling for about as long as I and both parties were more than happy to take a break.

That night I registered for my USC Fall 2009 classes. I got all the classes I wanted, which is a very good thing. I have 17 units right now. I’m considering overloading my schedule because I’m a little bit behind on credits, but I have all summer to decide what to do about that.

In the morning, Saturday morning, John, Brianna and Stacy left for Rome. They left at around eleven in the morning, and my overnight train didn’t leave until ten that night, so I had a whole day ahead of me. I considered going to Capri, a small, very touristy island off the coast of Naples/Sorrento, because I wanted to see a place called the Blue Grotto, but I don’t think the trip would have been worth the money and time to get there. So I had another lazy day! I wrote a little bit (not in my blog, obviously), I watched some Superman in Italian, I ate some Neapolitan pizza. Around four, some girls moved into the hostel. I talked to them and they, Brianna (not the same Brianna from above) and Jenny, were students from UC – Santa Barbara. I told them I was from USC and they just looked at each other. They said they had met about five people from USC while they’d been traveling. I guess this is a good thing. Anyway, we hung out for a while, watched a movie, went for a walk, got some pizza before I left for my train. They were pretty cool.

I hope none of these people I blog about mind me putting them on the internet. Maybe some of them are really paranoid about internet stalkers and the like. Hmmm.

I’m watching the sun come up on Sicily out of my train window right now. Earlier in my cabin, there was a retired couple heading from Rome back to their home, Barcellona, on Sicily. We must have talked for over an hour. I only speak ten words of Italian, and they only spoke ten words of English, but it was amazing how well we communicated, with hand gestures and drawings and charades. They were fun to talk to. Both of them were retired teachers. The man was a professor of mathematics, and I didn’t catch what the woman did. We talked about our families, and our homes, and the surrounding area of Sicily. They had two children, a pediatrician and a geologist. I learned from the man, before it happened, that the train from mainland Italy to Sicily takes a huge ferry between the two. And I saw it happen! We got to the water’s edge, and we boarded a ship, and then we got off on the other side. It was amazing! They gave me a copious amount of candy. The lady held the bag out to me and I took one piece, and she held it out again, so I took a couple more, and she held it out again. I think I went back into the bag, at her behest, about five times. Damn Italians and their insistent hospitality….

I was very happy to sit next to such a kind couple of Italians. I’m still amazed at the number of great people I’ve met in Italy. There are so many cool people out there! But you know who’s the coolest? That’s right. Me. Hehe, I couldn’t decide whether to put ‘me’ or ‘you.’ I went with ‘me.’ Ciao!

Napoli Rocks

It’s hard to turn every day into an afterschool special. Because sometimes there is no moral to my travel, there is just normal life. Just a normal day with a few thousand-year old monuments; which are notable, but not affecting, not likely to be something you remember vividly. But today there is a story, and it’s because of the people involved that it is important, that it is affecting, and that I will remember it. I have discovered that people, not monuments, make impressions on my life.

That said, of course I went to see the monuments! This morning I set off, after a brief breakfast adventure which resulted in some chocolate pastries and fruit, with my new friends John, Briana and Stacy to see Pompeii, an ancient Roman city which was buried under tons of burning pumice from the explosion of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD. That is a very long time ago. We paid their excessive entry fee and also partook in audio guides so we could tell what we were looking at, and we began to explore the ancient city, which accommodated 25,000 Romans back in the day. It is a huge complex, so I’m sure we didn’t see everything, but we did see some remarkable things. It amazes me to see evidence of the rationality of the Roman people. Judging from their court system, their artwork, and their sporting events, among other things, it is clear that the residents of ancient Rome were possessed of intelligence at least equal to our own. It’s also amazing to consider the fact that they were the first real civilization, which is significant because it means they had no foundation for the way they did things; every problem was new. Everything we’ve done afterward has sprung from their original method of thought, building upon their groundwork. It was a fascinating place to explore, especially the amphitheater. Its form was mostly covered in grass, with a few rows of seats still clinging to the green slope. It made me want to have a picnic.

When we returned, we couldn’t eat our planned dinner of rotisserie chicken just yet, because it wasn’t yet late enough for dinner, so John and I walked down to this park area, which was neat, and continued on to the water. Naples is on the western coast of Italy, and the water is within easy walking distance to the hostel. We explored this pier I found yesterday, and on the way back we encountered two children, probably seven or eight years old, calling into the jumble of boulders which, along with the dock, formed the barrier between the open sea and the calm bay on the other side. Their calls were met with frantic yelps from within the rocks. John and I were interested, so we went over to see what the fuss was about. With their tiny amount of English (dog, cat), and our tiny amount of Italian (No thank you, Where is the train station?), we were able to piece together that their dog was inside the rocks and they couldn’t get her to come back out. (Actually this doesn’t seem like it would take much communication; seems pretty obvious, now that I think about it.) Anyway, the kids wanted John and I to move these huge boulders. There was no way. We didn’t even try because the rocks were huge. But there did seem to be a formidable passage into the rocks, at the end of which, the dog’s tail could be seen. The kids didn’t want to go in there, though they were small and would have fit nicely, but I was curious, so I decided to climb down in the rocks and see if I could help the dog (yes, it’s that kind of story). I was able to gymnastic myself down to where I could touch the dog, which I was hesitant to do. It was frantic; barking, yelping, crying, making every sound of which a dog’s limited vocal box is capable, and I was afraid if I startled it, I would be mauled by this small rat-like excuse for a dog. I had just taken off my chamois shirt to see if I could wrap the dog up and carry it, hysterical, out of the rocks when a black cat crossed my face. This is not a figure of speech. The dog was chasing a cat through the rocks and seemed to be free to move as it pleased, as reported by the above-ground support crew a few seconds later when they saw the dog appear on the top of the rocks for half a second before diving back in after the cat. I, feeling foolish, as usual, climbed back out of the rock wall. Our hypothesis is this: the cat was in the rock wall investigating a dead cat, which I found along my path to the dog. The dog followed after the cat, and until the cat left, the dog would stay in the wall, at the behest of her owners. I told the Italian boys I was sorry, in Italian, and tried to explain, with wild gesticulation and rampant hand gestures, some of the complexities of inter-species domestic animal relations. They were happy we had stopped to help and one of the boys showed off his English, saying “Thank you very much!” before we continued on our way. We had made it about fifty yards before one of them called out to us. We turned around and he was running toward us to deliver a gift to me for climbing in the rocks for them. It was a small starfish they had found that day. I accepted most graciously. It stinks of rotting seafood and will surely break as I continue my travels, but I can’t imagine a more perfect souvenir.

Update: I have some pictures. There's one of me and my new friends at the ampitheatre at Pompeii, one of me down among the rocks, and one of a pizza chef sharing his most prized possession with the camera.

Napoli

The transition days are the hardest. Switching from one city to the next gives me time to realize how alone I am in my travels, and allows me to become homesick. Add to that the fear of encountering a new city, where you don’t know the geography, the customs, or even the language, and it is easy to feel overwhelmed. But if there is one lesson I can take away from this Italian vacation, it is a profound appreciation of how many generous, helpful and very cool people there are in the world, and the realization that it is easier to make friends than I had thought.

I left Hannah’s apartment today around noon to travel to the train station, unknowingly leaving my water bottle in her kitchen (the saga continues). Once again, I am hugely grateful to her and her roommates for allowing me to stay there and for making my trip to Rome a very enjoyable one. They saved me, at the very least, one hundred and fifty dollars for a hostel, and their company was worth much more than that.

I slept on the train, arriving in Naples three hours after leaving Rome. (I took the slow train because it’s cheaper; the journey can be made in about an hour and a half.) Naples, I have found, can be a scary place. It is drenched in graffiti, and many of the streets I have seen are dirty and unkempt. I haven’t seen much yet, but so far my impression is not hugely positive. It took me about an hour to sort out where my hostel is, and I spent a euro on a frivolous train ticket during the process. This is what my USC economics professor would call an information cost; I spent money on something stupid because I didn’t know the right way to do things. Anyway, after talking to several patient and not-so-patient transportation employees, I found myself at the Portici – Via Liberta train stop. A short walk brought me to my hostel, built inside the remains of a textiles factory. It is a very nice place to stay, cheap and modern with free lockers in the room and wireless internet, though the latter is a bit weak.

I left the hostel at around five o’clock for something to eat. Many areas in Europe close between the lunch rush and the dinner rush, and I found myself inside this eerie service gap today, unable to find even a pizza for a good half hour before stumbling across a lonely open pizzeria, which sold me a quality, classic Neapolitan pizza for only three euro. I followed it up with some gelato (which I think I’ve consumed at least once every day since I’ve been in Italy, and several times more than once per day, the worst bordering on, say, eighteen or nineteen per day), and I was set, returning to the hostel, where I re-met a girl I met in my hostel in Venice! Crazy!

In my room, I met three new friends: John, Brianna and Stacy, who are probably trying to sleep right now, annoyed at me tapping on my keyboard. They, believe it or not, are from California, attending San Jose State, and they are studying abroad in a small town (I can’t remember the name right now, darn it) just outside of London! Crazy again! We exchanged pleasantries, shared some laughs, cried a little bit, had some emotional breakthroughs and cemented our friendship over some more gelato. Can’t go wrong with more gelato. In fact, I think I’ll get some right now. No, not really, because the shops aren’t open right now, but wouldn’t that be funny if I just left in the middle of a post and got gelato? Man, that would be something. Anyways, they are really cool. They are going to Pompeii tomorrow and invited me to go along with them, which I deem a pretty good idea. Tonight we watched Pulp Fiction together, which I had never seen.

And now I’m typing in pitch dark with a pillow resting on my hands and my keyboard to dull the sharp clicking of the keys. There is a Romanian man sleeping a few feet away.

Unfortunately I can’t upload pictures right now because the internet is weak. This might weed out some of my illiterate blog followers who only do it for the cool pics, but that’s a risk I’m just going to have to take. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have figured out this internet business and I’ll upload some of my more fantastic photos from the past couple of days. Until then, good night, I miss all of you, even the random strangers who stumble onto my blog after searching for something weird on Google, like ‘tortuously detailed account of a mildly interesting vacation’ or ‘something to read instead of watching paint dry.’ You too hold a special place in my heart; a place with padded walls, reserved especially for ‘special’ people’ strangely interested in the banal details of a stranger’s vacation. But I digress. As usual. Nighty night.

Update: Today is tomorrow, and here's a picture.

Roma Coliseum

The Pope must have suffered quite a fall on the steps of the Vatican Museum in the past, because I think my new friend Ali and I saw more ‘Watch your step’ signs today than exhibits. Which is not to say there weren’t about a million things to see in the Vatican Museum, because there was quite a copious amount. We think we may have missed a thing or two, but we saw gorgeous tapestries, beautiful sculptures, ancient maps, and the king of them all, the Sistine Chapel with its world-famous wall-paintings. I think I saw more depictions of Jesus today than I have in my entire life. It was an illustrious museum, for its exhibits, and its unceasing stair cautions.

We left the Vatican Museum and had lunch in a restaurant nearby, and proceeded to make our way to the Coliseum. It was a long walk, but we made it. We were immediately offered a spot in a tour group (leaving immediately!) to see the Coliseum and the Forum for 22 Euro, and, after having a brief meeting, we accepted the generous offer. We headed inside behind our tour guide, who walked us through the giant structure, built in the first century AD, and told us all about the gladiators who used to fight there. It operated within the Roman empire until 500 AD or something. Apparently, in its first one hundred days of operation, 5000 lions were killed. The whole Roman empire (northern Africa, the Mediterranean, and other places) used to be populated with lions, bears and other wild creatures, but now the populations of these animals is practically extinct in these areas because of the events at the Coliseum. And the gladiators were actually very fat. They needed excessive fat to protect their muscles, so Hollywood gladiators aren’t very true to form. The floor of the Coliseum was wood, covered with sand, which in Latin is called ‘arena,’ and that’s why we call our stadiums arenas! The Coliseum looks different than I expected because the wood floor is gone, revealing the complex tunnel system down below, but they rebuilt a portion of the floor and covered it with sand to give everyone an idea what it used to look like. The sand was good at soaking up all the blood which was spilled in the Coliseum, which held 75,000 crazy Romans. It was an awesome building to see.

The next tour was even cooler! We walked across the street to the Roman Forum. I’m not sure what exactly it was, except just an area where all the cool Romans used to live. It used to be the Beverly Hills of Rome until the emperor [blank] demolished all the houses and built his temple there instead. He had a private arena to watch footraces or fights to the death or ping-pong tournaments, and his palace took up the entire hill.

Rome was purportedly begun by a man named Romulus. He and his brother Remus decided to build a city, but they couldn’t agree on a site. Each of them preferred a different hill. So, to decide where to build the city, they sat on the top of their hills for one day and counted how many eagles flew by each. Romulus won with 12 eagles, signifying the gods wanted him to build the city. Remus didn’t like this, and to taunt Romulus, he climbed over the wall Romulus had built around his new city Rome, and Romulus killed his brother Remus. It’s a very pleasant story, and marks the recorded origins of Rome at 753 BC.

The tour guide said only 40% of the Forum had been excavated, so there is still fascinating stuff underground in this area. Once again, the history was laid thick. The on-site museum was a renovated summer home of Benito Mussolini.

Today was a really great day jam-packed with sightseeing, and I was lucky to wander around with Ali, who was really fun. From the Forum we were able to take neat pictures of us eating and licking the Coliseum, and we took turns taking cool pictures of each other, and taking pictures of each other taking pictures, or PTS. And, Mom and Dad, we might want to change the password to our garage door. (Just kidding. Sort of.)

Pictures aren't working right now. Update: Today is two days after today, and I'm trying again to upload pictures. One of the Coliseum, one of me and my pet rock, one of Hannah, my/her friends and I, and one of a cool dome.

I'm really glad I had this chance to visit Hannah and her friends in Rome, and I'm very thankful to her and her roommates/friends for allowing me to stay with them. I've had a great time, but tomorrow I'm moving on to another Italian city.

Roma Easter

This morning, we all got up early to go to St. Peter’s Square for Easter mass. We left Hannah’s place around 6:30 in the morning, and arrived at St. Peter’s Square around 7:15 for the privilege of standing in line for the next hour and a half before being allowed into the actual square. It turns out our time was well-spent though; we ended up standing about two hundred feet from the altar, probably about twenty rows back, whereas other people who came later were stuck standing in the square, far away from the action. The service was shorter than I expected; only about an hour and a half. A good portion of it was performed by Pope Benedict himself, in Italian of course. After the service had ended, the Pope went inside St. Peter’s Basilica and came back out on a balcony overlooking the square to deliver a speech (once again in Italian). At the end of the speech though, he said “Christ be with you,” in 63 different languages, including Maori, Swahili and Urdu. It was fun to listen to the different languages and hear people cheer for each one, showing how diverse the crowd at the Vatican was today.

Yesterday, we found out that the open area in between Hannah and Julie’s building and three other buildings is populated by at least two turtles! But now we can’t find them again, and I can’t figure out how to get in there.

After the Easter mass, we came back to the apartment and promptly took a nap. I love vacation. Tonight, with all the other girls in Hannah and Julie’s apartment, and her friend Ali, who is also visiting, we had a huge Easter dinner with pasta, salad, chicken and ham. We had some real trouble figuring out if our Prosciutto Crudo, literally ‘raw ham’ in Italian, was cooked or not. It looked cooked, but that seemed counterintuitive based on its name. My mom solved the problem after I called her. Apparently it is not cooked, but it is cured in such a way that it is safe to eat. So, I just heated it up in the oven with some honey on it, and we were ready to go. It was delicious.

The pictures are of St. Peter's Square and Basilica, the Pope on the balcony above, and of the turtle in the turtle garden.

Roma

Rome has the same unreal quality of Venice. The immense history surrounding this city makes it a strange place to visit. There are so many monuments and ruins it is a little bit like walking through a dream.

Hannah picked me up at the train station yesterday and we took the tram back to her apartment, where she lives with eight other girls. I bought some groceries and got situated, and Hannah and I arrived at the Coliseum around eight thirty to hear the Pope do the Stations of the Cross. We had intended to meet up with Lilly, my friend from USC also studying at Queen Mary, but the crowd was enormous and we gave up. The service was held on a crumbling platform just outside the Coliseum, well above the crowd below so everyone could see. We got to see the Pope, though we only stayed for about an hour. The service was in Italian so we didn’t understand what was going on, but it was fun to be there anyway. The Coliseum was, once again, unreal, a little difficult to grasp that it is an actual place and not just an icon.

Today has been a laidback day. Hannah, Julie and I left in the early afternoon to do some sightseeing. First we visited the Pantheon, a huge domed building constructed as a temple for all the gods. I was impressed by the amount of color involved in its construction. Many different types of stone were used in the floor and walls, creating a space much more expressive than the stereotypical cold, white marble used in most ancient Roman buildings. The dome was gigantic, with a large hole in the center.

After the Pantheon, we went to the Trevi Fountain, which was extremely crowded by the Easter tourists. The fountain is popular with wishing tourists, who throw copious amounts of change into it. Hannah said they pull over three thousand euro out of the fountain every night.

After stopping off at the shop with the purported “best gelato in Rome,” we continued on to Piazza Navona, a large public square, once again crowded to overflowing with tourists. We wandered through the street vendors and eventually sat down near the fountain in the middle of the square and people-watched for awhile. Then we came back to their apartment, stopping off again at a gelato place, which was cheaper and tastier than the first one.

These kind girls let me wash my clothes here, but they don’t have a clothes dryer (hardly anyone in Italy does, it seems), so they are air-drying right now. I’m really glad Hannah and Julie have allowed me to stay with them for a few days. Rather than turn around and tell them right now how grateful I am, I’ll just say it on here and hope they read it sometime in the near future. This is probably simpler. Thanks guys!

As Hannah pointed out, there are many things in Rome which could be historic highlights of other cities which are practically ignored because of the enormous surplus of history in this area. The things which actually are popular tourist attractions are so over-the-top that it’s almost ridiculous, such as the Coliseum, the Trevi Fountain, and Piazza Venezia. I’m really enjoying walking around the city though, there is no shortage of things to see.

Tonight we cooked some hardboiled eggs and colored on them with marker for Easter tomorrow, and packed up some plastic eggs that the Honzels sent. Hannah wants to hide them for her roommates to look for. Easter is so cool.