[Description: Travel - Solo - Europe - Culture]
Italy came next, after a 24 hour train ride that passed through France (the French store clerks were not the friendliest bunch). Arriving in Rome, I immediately sought out the nearest hostel, and found a nice one relatively near to the train station, the Hostel Alessandro. This was definitely the most enjoyable part of my journey. Cheap food, amazing sights and good company. I met four Americans and spent a good bit of time exploring Rome with them. While staying
at the hostel, I learned how to cook pasta and make homemade sauces, a cheap, but delicious, food source.
Rome is an amazing destination. It is something of an, overall, theatrical city. All around the Colosseum and Vatican, tour guides, peddlers and actors vie for your attention, hoping to make a tip; most, it would seem, do good job of it. From middle aged men dressed as gladiators outside the Colosseum, to people of unknown age and sex wandering the ruins of the Roman Forums dressed as decrepit, hunch-backed lepers, the city is a vibrant, active place. Traveling the city on foot during the day is an enjoyable, if tiring, experience.
The night life, however, leaves something to be desired. Most bars don't have an active crowd, and the main way for youth to go is joining pub crawls. Of course, the best thing I came away from a pub crawl with was a shirt (the most expensive free shirt I've ever payed for), but it was a chance to meet people and intoxicate myself without feeling too stupid.
A week passed much too fast in Rome, but my feet grew restless and my friends were beginning to drift away, travelling to other cities and places. I felt drawn to visit an Island in
the Mediterranean, and so took a trip to Sardinia, a middle sized island off the western coast of Italy.
Sardinia is very much a place not accustomed to tourists. Very few spoke English (and yes, I realize I should have known a bit of Italian, but my linguistic skills are terrible and I wasn't sure where I would be in Europe when I left). Suffice it to say, stuck alone on an island where you have difficulty conversing with the locals is an experience in and of itself. I decided, despite my linguistic predicament, that I would travel the island for four days, making a loop back to the port by my fourth day. Unfortunately, I didn't find a beach until the third day, and by then my money was running low. Granted, the island was beautiful, and the culture unique, but it was not the most enjoyable experience.
Two days later found me on a train to Switzerland, where I planned to stay a day until realizing my funds couldn't handle it. On a positive note, however, I contacted one of the Swiss girls I met back in Ireland (Angie) beforehand, and she met me at the train station in Zurich. It was a fun reunion, and it being August 1st, we celebrated Switzerland's Independence Day by downing a beer. She also introduced me to one of the best sausage sandwich I've ever had. I wish I could have stayed longer. One interesting fact of note, however, is that there were many Neo-Natzis at the train station, drinking and celebrating the day. Don't ask, because I don't know.
My last two days were spent in Amsterdam and London, respectively. In Amsterdam, I bought two bottles of Absinth, and in London, I finally found a decent hostel that only cost $20 U.S. Before long, I was headed back home, flying from London, to Iceland, and back to BWI. A great trip overall.
On a post-note, my bags were left in Iceland on my way back. They were returned to me, but the two bottles of Absinth were missing. Alas, such is the problem with stupid laws and customs in the States.
Italy came next, after a 24 hour train ride that passed through France (the French store clerks were not the friendliest bunch). Arriving in Rome, I immediately sought out the nearest hostel, and found a nice one relatively near to the train station, the Hostel Alessandro. This was definitely the most enjoyable part of my journey. Cheap food, amazing sights and good company. I met four Americans and spent a good bit of time exploring Rome with them. While staying
at the hostel, I learned how to cook pasta and make homemade sauces, a cheap, but delicious, food source.Rome is an amazing destination. It is something of an, overall, theatrical city. All around the Colosseum and Vatican, tour guides, peddlers and actors vie for your attention, hoping to make a tip; most, it would seem, do good job of it. From middle aged men dressed as gladiators outside the Colosseum, to people of unknown age and sex wandering the ruins of the Roman Forums dressed as decrepit, hunch-backed lepers, the city is a vibrant, active place. Traveling the city on foot during the day is an enjoyable, if tiring, experience.
The night life, however, leaves something to be desired. Most bars don't have an active crowd, and the main way for youth to go is joining pub crawls. Of course, the best thing I came away from a pub crawl with was a shirt (the most expensive free shirt I've ever payed for), but it was a chance to meet people and intoxicate myself without feeling too stupid.
A week passed much too fast in Rome, but my feet grew restless and my friends were beginning to drift away, travelling to other cities and places. I felt drawn to visit an Island in
the Mediterranean, and so took a trip to Sardinia, a middle sized island off the western coast of Italy.Sardinia is very much a place not accustomed to tourists. Very few spoke English (and yes, I realize I should have known a bit of Italian, but my linguistic skills are terrible and I wasn't sure where I would be in Europe when I left). Suffice it to say, stuck alone on an island where you have difficulty conversing with the locals is an experience in and of itself. I decided, despite my linguistic predicament, that I would travel the island for four days, making a loop back to the port by my fourth day. Unfortunately, I didn't find a beach until the third day, and by then my money was running low. Granted, the island was beautiful, and the culture unique, but it was not the most enjoyable experience.
Two days later found me on a train to Switzerland, where I planned to stay a day until realizing my funds couldn't handle it. On a positive note, however, I contacted one of the Swiss girls I met back in Ireland (Angie) beforehand, and she met me at the train station in Zurich. It was a fun reunion, and it being August 1st, we celebrated Switzerland's Independence Day by downing a beer. She also introduced me to one of the best sausage sandwich I've ever had. I wish I could have stayed longer. One interesting fact of note, however, is that there were many Neo-Natzis at the train station, drinking and celebrating the day. Don't ask, because I don't know.
My last two days were spent in Amsterdam and London, respectively. In Amsterdam, I bought two bottles of Absinth, and in London, I finally found a decent hostel that only cost $20 U.S. Before long, I was headed back home, flying from London, to Iceland, and back to BWI. A great trip overall.
On a post-note, my bags were left in Iceland on my way back. They were returned to me, but the two bottles of Absinth were missing. Alas, such is the problem with stupid laws and customs in the States.
(Above picture courtesy of Rachel Martin)
[Description: Travel - Europe - Solo - Culture]
July - August of 2006, I experienced my first true backpacking on a budget journey. I still had backup from home, but I took a much greater seat in setting up my transportation and time abroad. After working the previous 2 months as a line cook at a local bar, I took the money I had saved and (through the benefits I gain from my mother, who is now a flight attendant) bought a round trip ticket to Heathrow Airport in London (cost: $150, great benefits, no?). With the funds my parents loaned/gave to me, my total spending came to approximately $2000 over a period of two and a half weeks. Not too bad for my second time backpacking solo.
The first hardship I went through here came before I was through customs. Apparently, to enter any country, one needs to have some type of plan and place to stay set up. Even if you don't, tell the customs agent that you do - it will make the experience much less painful. Because I could not produce a place I would be staying, the interview took half an hour before they would stamp my passport and let me through.
My initial experience in England was not a pleasant one, either. The hostel I had to stay at cost twenty British pounds; equivalent to fifty U.S. To put this in perspective, most hostels cost approx. fifteen to twenty U.S. The hostel itself was four to a room, three flights up, and in a hard to find backstreet off of Piccadilly Circus. Not a bad hostel, just expensive.Perhaps my choice of initial destinations was a bit unplanned, because it became quickly apparent that everything in London cost twice as much as most places in the U.S., much like New York. I will never fly into London again unless I have accommodations set up beforehand (in fact, I would suggest never going anywhere without accommodations set up beforehand). Aside from prices and the inability to find an Internet cafe, London was a decent city. Old and new clashed at various points, and the many old structures and fortifications gave it an old world feel at times. I spent two days here, enough time to get my feet on the ground, before jumping on a train and heading to Amsterdam; I had to get away from the high prices.
One day later, after a peaceful crossing of the British Channel, found me in Amsterdam. The Netherlands themselves are a boggy place, but this city has to be one of the most lively and (seemingly) lawless I've yet to visit. Mind you, it's not lawless, but the laws are much more lenient than in the U.S. The smell of burning cannabis wafted out of a plethora of coffee shops, various squares promoted a lively night-life, and the red light district spoke to a multitude of fetishes. The Banana Bar (in the red light district) was one of the more famous places
, and I doubt I need explain what went on there. Weed was cheap, shrooms were legal, and I spent a good four days enjoying myself. The hostel cost the usual twenty U.S., and was near enough to the bars and coffee shops that the price was well worth it.
, and I doubt I need explain what went on there. Weed was cheap, shrooms were legal, and I spent a good four days enjoying myself. The hostel cost the usual twenty U.S., and was near enough to the bars and coffee shops that the price was well worth it.Amsterdam is where I had my first experience with shrooms. Not a bad experience, not particularly good while alone, so long as one is in a good states of mind, everything tends to go smoothly. Aside from this, I can't help but feel that the government regulation of these aspects is a brilliant idea. Everything is relatively safe, and one need not fear bad or laced drugs. The women of the red light district get tested every week for STDs and health risks.
Oddly enough, though the dutch culture of the Netherlands remains in souvenir shops, Amsterdam is more a melting pot than anything traditional. Most restaurants promoted other cultures, such as the (delicious and cheap) "Wok and Walks" scattered around the city. The Netherlands culture is that of a free society where expression and ideas are encouraged, while maintaining a laid back feel. Ghel, as they say (my spelling could be off).
(Rome, Sardinia and Zurich) To be continued...
