The Italian Job (with less Mini's)

I'm back in Germany for the time being after travelling across a couple of borders into Italy last week. Needless to say, Cinque Terre is an absolutely stunning location on this rock we call Earth. We got in in the early afternoon on a Saturday, to find that a lot of other people had the same idea to visit these 'quaint' villages. Thanks, Rick Steves. We had an apartment that a little old man and his wife rented out and he was an interesting character to say the least. With his English speaking being sub-par, and our Italian coming from a Olive Garden menu, the conversation took about an hour. Finally, it was time to explore our temporary home.

It was muggy and hot. I'm talking about Mississippi in August muggy and hot. It was a good thing we were on the water so we could jump in whenever we liked. So that's what we did. We explored our village of Riomaggiore, which I think is the most picturesque of the five villages (although most guidebooks will tell you it's Vernazza, which was three villages over). Maybe I'm just biased since we spent most of our time there. Hell, after our third day, I was giving info to confused looking tourists who were speaking English. Telling them about wi-fi hotspots, recommending restaurants, how to get to the trails which lead between the villages. If I had a better tan, and I don't know, spoke Italian, I could've been mistaken for a local, since we started feeling that way.

These five villages, hence the name, Cinque Terre, are all built into the hillsides on severe slopes. I'm guessing that if you weren't hawking souvenirs or running a restaurant, these people were primarily farmers. It's quite amazing how they do it, terracing their crops up the hillsides. It really is a marvel to see (or get lost in hiking, like I did, but more on that later). They produce some wonderful wines as well as a sweet dessert liqueur called Limoncino. Some of you may have heard of Limoncello, a close kin to this drink. If you like Lemonheads while you drink Vodka, just pick up a bottle of this stuff and cut out the middleman. There are two trails between all of the five villages, a low trail and a high one. Or, the red and the blue, according to the tourist office. Most people take the low trail, which is paved for a lot of it, but can be pretty brutal in some spots. You could probably hike from one end to the other in about 6 hours, going at a good pace, and if you haven't had too much foccacia to slow you down. Now the high trail is an entirely different beast, especially with 90+ heat and something like 90% humidity. So what the hell. I like a good challenge, I thought. I found out quickly why I was the only one up there that day. It goes straight up the hillside to start, weaving you through people's gardens and past a small, what I'll call a creek. By the time I reached a road at what I thought was the top, I realized that I did not bring enough water for this hike. I could have brought a mule to carry water for me and I don't think it would have been enough. I did however get some gorgeous views from up there. Something most of the tourists who come here don't get to see. I walked on to get to the next village and again, the trail just continued up. Now, it's not well marked, this high trail, and therefore I ended up doing some turnarounds and eventually made friends with a mountain goat who was feeding on some grape leaves. I don't think he was use to visitors, but in this heat, I'm pretty sure that we had a pretty good conversation. Again with the lack of water. I got some amazing vistas of the next two villages, snapped some photos, and decided it was time to head back. I got a little lost, but I found an extremely steep set of "stairs" to lead me back to my village. As I was walking down, I just kept thinking about the labor that was put into making a trail like this one, and I was in complete awe. My shirt may have been soaked through, but compared to what these people went through to put them there, I was in pretty good shape, and it kept me going. That was the last time on the high trail. Like I said, there were no mules to help on future hikes, and I wasn't close enough with the mountain goat to ask him for that kind of favor to help me carry my water.

For the first couple of evenings, the World Cup's final two games were on and so we decided to head up to a bar to watch them, since our apartment didn't have a TV. Since Germany was in the first game, and the Netherlands were in the finals (we just got back from Amsterdam, so for some strange reason, I felt like I was rooting for my home team) we had to watch. It wasn't a bad place to be, overlooking the Mediterranean at sunset time, enjoying a cold beer, and watching some football. Plus, I got to meet some cool people to watch the final game with. One from Canada (Edmonton Erin), and a guy I called Kansas, since I couldn't remember his name. This trip was shaping up to be a great one.

The second day we were there, we went down to the marina and rented some kayaks to get to some more remote beaches. The guy renting them out was very friendly and told us about a waterfall that was about two miles away, but we decided to head the other direction towards the next town. We found a beach, got out of the kayaks and enjoyed a swim. Note, to readers, the Mediterranean is super salty. I'm talking Salt Lake salty. So remember to take your Chapstick out of your swim trunks before entering the water. Otherwise, the next time you apply it, your lips feel like the rim of a margarita glass. We had a great time, and we knew we were going to have to go again. So we did the last full day we were there. My brother wasn't feeling up to it, so his wife and I decided to go. This time, we were going to check out the waterfall. About one hour into our little paddle, we both agreed that this 'waterfall' was a snipe hunt. Something to tell tourists to go check out to give the locals a chuckle. Very funny, my Italian friend. At least I was able to see a topless woman on a boat at the rocky beach that we stopped at to grab a snack we brought along. Waterfall, schmatterfall, I say.

Kansas was telling me about a little tradition that some tourists do which is to bring a bottle of wine down on the rocks at the marina and watch the sunset. I thought that sounded like a good idea, so I invited Edmonton Erin to join me down there one night, to allow my brother and his wife some alone time in what is, a very romantic place to be. When I showed up, she had brought two Australian girls that she had met with her. Sounds good to me. These girls were very cool. They liked to travel, have good conversations (why the hell isn't the U.S. on the metric system, one I still can't answer), and have a good time. We all sat on the rocks, got to know each other, and enjoyed some good, local wine. My brother and his wife met us down there and we all conversed until the sun was a memory. The Aussies, Canadian, and myself ended up walking back into town to grab a drink and hey, hey. A reggae band was playing to a crowd of about 100. We caught their last few songs and then proceeded to get that drink. These girls liked to party. I think that's why we all got along so well. So well, that I ended up forgetting the corkscrew and glasses that I had taken from our apartment earlier. I ended up replacing the corkscrew for our 'landlord', which didn't work worth a crap, by the way. All in all, it was probably the most fun evening that I had in Cinque Terre. Meeting good people is the main reason that I like to travel in the first place. Sure, the sights are cool, but they're just blips in your brain of a place you saw once. The people you meet are what make the memories of somewhere you've been.

We did visit all the villages of the Cinque Terre, and even Levanto, on the north end. Levanto was a cool town, with horrible food, but they did have an India Pale Ale on the beach, so I had to try it. Not bad, for Italian beer. After six days, it was time to go. Since the weather report showed thunderstorms for our next destination, we called an audible, and headed for greener pastures in Brenner. We stayed in a small town hotel and got to actually do some hiking in the Italian Alps. It was amazing. We did take a chairlift up most of the way and then hiked up to the top of a ridge, which offered some wonderful panoramic views. This will sound completely cliche, but something I will always remember were the cows. The bells clanging away as they chomped their meals was something I had never heard before. I guess they're probably harder to hear in a large scale feed lot back in the States. I guess the views were pretty neat, too. But the cows! Overall, the Italian Alps were great and somewhere I will probably head back to to do some more extensive hikes and hopefully reach some peaks. These Alps weren't overrun with tourists, which is kind of how I'm trying to experience things while I'm here. Sure, I like the hotspots of Europe, but sometimes, to get away and experience things that most people don't see, can make a trip unforgettable.

All in all, this was a great trip. Saw some places I'll never forget, made new friends, and just relaxed. I hope this trend continues for the rest of my time in Europe. See some cool shit, meet new people, and just enjoy life. Like they say, life is not about the destination, but the journey. One last thing, I want to thank my brother, Nate, and his wife, Dawn, for allowing my to make these memories together, and for bringing me along. I definitely couldn't have done this last week without them.

Lazy few days

After getting back from Amsterdam, I needed (needed may be the wrong word here) a few days to get prepped for the next adventure. We're going to drive to Cinque Terre, Italy to stay for 6 days. It's right along the Italian Riviera right at the bend in the country along the northwestern coastline. From what I've read and seen, it should be amazing. On the drive back, we're going to camp in Garmish, Germany, which is at the foothills of the Bavarian Alps. I'll be gone for awhile, but will try to post mid-trip. Definitely lots of pictures to come. I can't wait to go hiking between villages and some of the days, we're going to rent sea kayaks and go between the towns that way. It's supposed to be gorgeous this next week there, which should make for a great trip. I'm sure there will be plenty of stories and pictures to come. Unless I just decide to make it my permanent home. It'll be tough to contend with Amsterday, but this should be the opposite vibe. Instead of the party vibe, this should be more of the vibe of, to quote Depeche Mode, enjoying the silence.

Amsterdam - What a trip

I know what you're thinking about Amsterdam. You're probably right in most respects. With legalized prostitution in the Red Light District and the controlled, but what seemed to be non-existent drug laws, this city is a Mecca for those going to 'enjoy' themselves. While I did see all of that, there's a lot more to the most culturally diverse city on the planet.

In some ways, it seems like a cross between Las Vegas and Venice, Italy. Like Vegas, there's a ton to see, but for the most part, you just go there to party. Like Venice, it can be relaxed in some areas, and with its system of canals and waterways, building looking like they could topple at any moment, it was definitely a sight to see.

This city is alive with young people. Whether it be the local trendy hipsters or the backpacking hosteller. They're literally everywhere, past 3:00 in the afternoon that is. I couldn't tell if everyone was at work or if they had been out too late the night before, but the city was actually quite peaceful before noon. After that, the bikers come out and are everywhere. Since bicyclists have the right of way to all other forms of transportation in the city, including pedestrians, this is the most popular way to get around.

The apartment we stayed at was actually someone's home, which turned out to be a series of skinny staircases up six flights with one to two 'apartments' per floor. We were lucky enough to get the penthouse that was more or less a 400 square foot studio with a loft. It did however have a rooftop terrace (which sounds fancier than it was) but it was nice to have. The owner was a 50-something ex-pat from Quebec, Canada who was a bit of an aging hippie. He did have a lot of information about the city and was pretty interesting to talk to. You could say that I liked the guy. This guy's facial expressions told you that he had a lot of stories to tell, but it could have been that he was just stoned all day, too. I'm going to say it was probably a little of both.

The first couple of days spent in Amsterdam were like most when I go to a new city. Spent wandering around, taking in all of the sights, touristy stuff, taking pictures. This had plenty of opportunities for wandering, for it seemed to go on forever, and then just wound its way back to the central locations again. Yes, we went into the Red Light District, which to be honest, was a little like a haunted house. Just when I was least expecting it, the doorways in which the girls stood just sort of happen. Before you know it, they're a foot from you and grabbing at your arms to try and get you to come into their room. With the makeup jobs a lot of them wore, it was a little like Halloween. Don't get me wrong, I did see some sort of attractive women, but I'll stick to riding the trains instead.

Since the World Cup was going on one of these nights, and the Netherlands upsetting Brazil, the city went crazy. These people do know how to party, too. They stayed out to the early morning hours celebrating and blowing those stupid vuvuzelas that everyone on the planet now despises (I personally think South Africa is sorry for that one). This may explain the next morning's tranquility in the streets.

My last full day, I decided to rent a bike. Wandering around the streets is fun, but after a while, the brick and cobblestone sidewalks take their toll. Truthfully, riding a bike is the only way to go in this city. You can get where you're going a hell of a lot faster for one, but you also start to feel like you're getting immersed into the culture. There are a lot of bikes and scooters in this city, and by a lot, I mean an unimaginable amount of bikes. They're everywhere. Locked up against buildings, in the buildings, hanging off of the canals (I'm guessing the coffeeshops may have had something to do with this, but I've been wrong before, it could've been a tourist). Like I said before, for the most part, bicyclists have the right of way. You're constantly hearing the little bells ringing letting pedestrians or other cyclists know you're there. It may seem kind of trendy now in the U.S. to ride a granny bike around town, but here it's the norm. A mountain bike or a regular road bike in this city is what stands out the most. Kind of a "Where's that person going on that thing."

I asked the 'landlord' where to rent bikes and he just pointed to the narrow hallway. There was my bike. A fold-up Dahon with 7 speeds and a wobbly back tire. Let's ride. We had met up with some acquaintances of my brother and his wife the night before. They asked if we wanted to join them on a ride out to the beach, and since my brother was getting up early to go take some photos, I decided what the hell. So at the early morning hour of 11 am, I hopped on the bike with my new cycling companions. Getting out of the city was a little troublesome, as none of us speak Dutch, but we made it out in about an hour and were on our way to Haarlem. This is the next major city next to Amsterdam to the west, and in reality, is just an Amsterdam Jr. It has most of the same features, the canals, church steeples, main square, and a ton of shopping. It was sort of the Bellevue to Amsterdam's Seattle. Cleaner, newer and less traffic (bikes I mean). After a quick bite, we headed the extra 8 km out to the beach, and eventually hit the coast of Holland. Not what any of us were expecting. Apparently, none of us looked at a large scale map of the country. When we got to the, for lack of a better word, the boardwalk, there was just miles of beach as far as you could see. Then, I remembered, that the beach runs the entire length of the country. It was pretty amazing. There were people everywhere. I could've sworn I was at spring break in Ft. Lauderdale. There were clubs on the beach, and we only rode a couple of km down it, but the people were neverending. We stopped and got a couple of beers, and then decided to head back to Haarlem and catch the train back into Amsterdam. I'm guessing that you really have to get your ass accustomed to a fold up bike if you're going to ride it 30 km a day. After we got back, I decided to ride around the city on my own a bit and weave my way back to the apartment. I almost felt like a local after I picked up some Heineken and took it back to our place. No accidents, or even close calls. A success in my injury prone travels.

Needless to say, I would like to go back and check this city out again. It deserves some more exploring. I usually don't like to do the really touristy things in big cities, but there are some things that I missed here that I would like to check out if I go back. The Van Gogh museum is the one thing I regret not seeing, but all in all, I had a great time. The city is full of life. A melting pot of nations that come together to celebrate things that are looked down upon by most, seem to thrive here. It made for some great experiences that everyone should enjoy sometime in their life...hopefully more than once.