Lessons Learned

This summer started innocently enough. Quit my job, sell almost all of my possessions, and move to Germany to live with my brother and his wife for three months. I didn’t do this to do the movie script ‘finding myself’ or some fairy tale dream of discovering what life is all about, but I have learned a lot about what I want out of life. Not necessarily what I want to do, but just what I want.
Beginning to leave Seattle was tough. I had closed off any thoughts of relationships or starting a new career. I wasn’t at a place in my life where I wanted to start something, knowing I wasn’t going to finish it. Besides, I had a plane ticket to Europe with all sorts of adventures planned, and some not planned yet. I had made it this far in life on my own not ‘tied down’ to anything or anybody. Hell, some people that know me would say that I was dead set against marriage, kids, a house, a dog, whatever. It’s not that I’m against it; I just wasn’t ready for all of that in my life just quite yet. Maybe it was selfishness, lack of maturity, maybe it was fear, who knows. Brass tax is that I just wasn’t ready, and maybe I’m still not, but I think that this trip has led me closer.
I know this may get a little lengthy, but I’m just spilling my guts out onto paper right now. So here it goes. For once in my life, I’m going to just let it all go. If only one thing I have learned, no more regrets. This is some of my thoughts and fears about my three month adventure, with a story to conclude it, one of the main contributing stories to some of my feelings about this mini-vacation from reality for awhile.
To be perfectly honest, I’m scared shitless right now. I’ve been doing everything I can to find a job and extend my stay in Germany for an amount of time to be determined at a future date. Most likely, it looks as though I’ll be headed back to Oregon, broke, no job, no possessions, but hopefully with some insights into life and what I want out of it. It’s too bad insights don’t pay for rent, food, or car payments. It’s also not something you can put that easily on a resume. Hi, my name’s Jef, and I have some insights, thanks for the job. Truth is, I have no idea what I’m going to do if I have to go back. Exciting, sure. Anxiety inducing, you betcha.
It’s time to let the feelings out. I’ve gone this far in life with plenty of friends, girlfriends here and there, and a supportive family (sad story, I know). But I don’t really open my feeling to too many of them. I’ve never really worn my heart on my sleeve as they say, instead using humor (albeit terrible at times) as more of a guard than anything. I’ve opened up more to people on this trip that I’ve known less than four hours than I have to a lot of people that I’ve known for years. I think that most of my friends, with a few exceptions, of course, (or the addition of booze) aren’t really the ‘Let’s talk about our feelings’ type of crowd. This isn’t the movies where we share intimate thoughts about our lives on the basketball court or in the sauna (which brings me to the point of why Hollywood always has half naked dudes talking about how fucked up their lives are, because it just doesn’t happen. But then again, I don’t live in California.) It’s usually a pint of whiskey and a terribly miss-timed phone call at 2 am to their girlfriend that brings out the ‘hey, you ok man?’ I really only talk about how I truly feel with a couple of my friends and my brother, and even then, I still reserve some of that deep seeded shit. Like right now, on the tail end of my trip, frantically trying to sort out my life, find a job, I’m freaked out. My chest has been feeling tight due to anxiety (wine has been helping a little), and I’m finding myself with some Into the Wild type scenarios running through my head. Maybe not to Alaska, but Iceland is pretty close. Find myself I have not, but sometimes I feel more and more lost in this maze of life. Now, before I go and feel all melancholy about where my life might end up, I have to remember the lessons I’ve learned along the way, and for some reason, these things cheer my right back up. Plus, at the time of writing this, I have three days until Oktoberfest in Munich. How does that not cheer somebody up?
I have made friends from all over the world on this trip in a matter of months. Most of them, I will never see again. They were part-time friends in a very part-time home. They have shown me that there are tons of people from all walks of life just enjoying the moment. Lesson one: enjoy the moment. It’s not always healthy to always be thinking ahead in life. Sometimes, or most of the time, you just have to sit back and take it in. Wherever you are, enjoy. Unless you work in retail, then pray that Thanksgiving to December 26th will go by without having to think about it. I had a great time meeting these people who I will never forget because we all just enjoyed the good with the bad. Together.
The next thing I discovered along the way is that traveling alone can be amazing at times. Freedom to do what you want, go where you will, eat whenever, etc. There are also many times I found that traveling alone can get well…wait for it…lonely. Not in the ‘I want to drown myself in the Mediterranean’ type of lonely, but more of the ‘I can’t believe I’m at the Colosseum talking to a stray cat’ type of lonely. Wishing someone else was there to share it with me. I had had a pretty good run of it in a few of my trips, meandering about alone meeting fellow travelers and locals. I had also traveled quite a bit with my brother and his wife. But being alone on eight hour train rides, or three hour flights can get a bit boring. Kurt Vonnegut can only keep you company so long. I thought that traveling as a couple would be a nightmare in Europe, but I have seen a million couples doing just that, including my brother and his wife. In the past, my selection of girlfriends was not the best of travel companions. Bickering at me for missing an exit on the freeway, a delayed flight, whatever. Can’t control the plane, the sun, or the fact that we didn’t spring for the GPS and I don’t like driving in LA. I’m more of the go with the flow type attitude in these situations, which I’ve learned, for some reason, aggravates some people even more. Still figuring that one out, but pretty sure it’s a lost cause. I’m learning that if you can travel and explore the world with someone, then living at home will probably be a breeze. It can be stressful, things don’t always work out like you plan, but somehow, all is good? Keeper. I think I’m ready for that companion finally.
Lesson two: I’m ready to accept someone to share my life and experiences with. Part-time friends, while amazing, just aren’t going to cut it anymore. I want the long haul friend. Hopefully, I didn’t wait too long for this to happen.
The story that led me to this conclusion: It was my third night in Rome. I had spent all day at the Vatican and various other sites around the city. It was a pretty damn good day, but little did I know, it was about to get better. I went back to my hostel, ready to rest my feet before I was going to check my email and write a few letter at the internet hotspot/Laundromat that my hostel had a deal with to get people staying there a free half hour per day. Waiting outside for the next available computer, I saw a gorgeous girl walking up with the same flyer I had. I said, “Hostel Beautiful.” She asked how I knew, and I held up the same flyer. She just gave me the ‘Oh, you’re so smart’ look, which I deserved. I asked her name and she told me Avia. Just then, two computers opened up and we went inside to use our generous half hour. I wrote a few emails, and soon enough, the half hour was up. We left at the same time and she was already lost, claiming that her sense of direction was horrible. I led her back towards the hostel and as we got to talking, she told me she was Jewish (like lives in Israel and was on her way to find some family for their Jewish Saturday night traditional feast was the first thing she was doing in Rome Jewish). While chatting, I mentioned the Roma Pass to her that I had and what a brilliant thing it was. She wanted one too, so I took her to the train station to show her where to get it. I waited for her to make a phone call, in which she never got a hold of that family, and so we were off again. She asked where we were going. I explained how I saw a sign for a Korean restaurant near the Vatican and she decided to walk with me to try and find it. I had no idea where it was, just a general idea. She didn’t seem annoyed by my utter lack of direction, but finally asked where in the hell we were going. She wasn’t bitching at all, just that she had to try and get to her dinner. I let her go, but not before making plans to go see the city that night, and that we’d meet up at the hostel later. I finally found the Korean restaurant, sat down, and just said ‘Bulgogi.’ It was amazing, enough said.
I waited for Avia in the lobby of the hostel at 8 pm while chatting with some other travelers making a wakeup call with the guy at the front counter for a taxi at 5 in the morning to take them to the airport. My original plan was to go take some night pictures of the Colosseum and the Fontana di Trevi. When I saw Avia come out of her room, I knew that probably wasn’t going to happen. She was absolutely stunning. I actually had to sort of catch my breath. Be cool, Atwood, be cool. We took the subway to the Colosseum first. We never had those awkward pauses in conversation and talked about everything under the sun. One thing I really liked about her is that she wasn’t afraid to talk about those subjects that most people shy away from. Whether it is religion, politics, war, whatever. The more I spoke to her, the more I realized why she wasn’t afraid. She was born in Israel, by two parents who met in France, one of which was from Poland, and the other from some other country. Random, sure. I was intrigued. She told me that she had encountered a lot of anti-Semitism throughout her travels, and I was kind of taken aback by this. She didn’t have a six-pointed star sewn on her clothing or anything, and she didn’t exactly look Jewish, so how people knew is beyond me. I enjoyed the way that she talked about subjects like this, not with disdain or anger, but with logical and rational thinking. Who was this girl? She was a bright, funny, quick, woman who just happened to be stunningly beautiful. We left the Colosseum, with no night shots to be taken. Eh, I remember what it looked like anyway. We went to the Fontana di Trevi next. I actually expected it to be sort of empty there, but quite the opposite. So we ducked into a small pub to grab a beer and hang out with the rest of the hordes of tourists. We ordered two Heinekens to go. I asked the bartender to take the caps off since he failed to do so initially. She grabbed hers off the bar and proceeded to open the damn thing with her teeth. Normally, you would see some hick or frat guy doing this sort of practiced maneuver, but for some reason, coming from this girl, I found it incredibly sexy. The bartender even gave her a high five for Christ’s sake. Man, did I feel like a pussy. I had to have some reason for why I didn’t follow suit, and luckily I have one. I used to do this little party trick, but one night I saw a friend of mine with stitches on his face. I asked him what happened and (true story), as he was attempting this, the bottle slipped and he put a deep hole next to his lower lip so deep that he could stick his tongue through it. My teeth as a bottle opener trick was retired that day.
We shared our beers, took some photos and then moved on. We ended up at a nice café to grab another beer and talk some more. The waitress suggested the large beers. We looked at each other and gave the OK shoulder nod. She came back with liter beers. Living in Germany, this was no big deal to me, but her eyes widened to a hysterical extent. Like a trooper, she took it in stride. We did our cheers in German and then she taught me how to say it in Hebrew. We shared our pictures we had taken to show each other where we had been and talked more about travel and life. I learned that she had just gotten out of the Israeli military, as it is mandatory for Israeli citizens. This put her at 20 years of age. Yeah, 20. I have done the whole dating a younger girl thing, to find that most of them just weren’t experienced in life and therefore, didn’t have a lot to talk about. Avia, on the other hand, was decidedly different. As she put it, “Where I come from, you deal with so much on a daily basis, and then spend two years in the military, at 20, you feel like you’ve lived the life of a 40 year old.” She definitely had a lot to talk about, and I definitely was enjoying listening.
We finished our twelve Euro beers, which I attempted to pay for while she was in the lieu, but she wouldn’t have it and gave her share. Check another off the list. This girl’s getting cooler as the night goes on. I told her earlier that the subway and buses stopped running at 11:30, but we sat there and talked until past midnight. With her lack of direction, I led us back toward the hostel. It was about a 30 minute walk, but she just shrugged it off and said, let’s go. As we walked back, we just kept on talking about this and that, learning more about each other and how we grew up and what we were doing traveling Europe. As we were a few blocks from the train station, we passed a street vendor selling fruit. It made me think of this movie called All the Days Before Tomorrow, where the two lead characters were in a supermarket and passed by a bin of watermelons. One said, “I can’t believe you can buy watermelons at midnight.” The other said back to her, “It’s LA, you can buy a Ferrari at midnight.” Well, here we were in Rome, but instead of watermelon (which he was selling) we bought and shared some cantaloupe. Then started a discussion about how we call all those different types of melons by different names, which she found pretty funny. She said, yeah, its melon. Nope, it’s cantaloupe. We’ll agree to disagree on that one, but it was damn good cantaloupe, at least for past midnight on the streets of Rome.
We finally made it back to the hostel, where we went to the common room to hang out for a bit, before the guy at the counter kicked us out since the common room closed at 10:30. So, Avia asked me if I’d like to go outside and have a ‘smoke’. I told her OK that I’d at least go outside and hang out. We went out to the front of the building, and I said that it would probably be more appropriate to do that around the corner on a not so busy street. She didn’t see my point, but I said, trust me, it’s probably the way to go with that. We hung out on the street until about two in the morning talking, huddling together in the cold night air, just enjoying the moment. I told her how I had taken Japanese in high school and proceeded to write my name in katakana on my map of Rome and then her name in the same Japanese alphabet. Impressive, huh? She then wrote her name in Hebrew and then my name. It was amazing to see her write one direction and then the next with no delay. (Hebrew goes right to left, unlike most other languages.) I don’t know what it was (actually, I do) but at the time, I was impressed.
A little after two in the morning it was time to head back upstairs. I had wanted to kiss this girl so badly, but like a lot of times in my life, I questioned myself. Was it her age? Was it me questioning if this girl wanted to do the same? Or, was it me just being a chickenshit? Don’t know, but in the end, we said our goodbyes. She was staying in Rome for another three days, and I was off to Naples for two days, and then had to catch a ferry to Sardinia. My flight home was leaving from Sardinia, so I felt like I had to be there. She asked me if I would see her in the morning, and like a complete moron, I said I hoped so, but that I was leaving early to catch a train. In retrospect, I could’ve caught a later train to Naples. And in more retrospect, knowing now that Naples is an overcrowded dump, I should have. I looked into her eyes, and just for a moment, I saw that she wanted to see me again before I left. I’m pretty sure I had some of that blockade still up that was leftover from when I left the States of really, truly letting someone in.
Lesson Three: No Regrets. All I have to remember this girl is her name in Hebrew written down on my map of Rome. Trust me, even with Google, not an easy thing to figure out. I know that in the long run it would probably amount to nothing, but to not even get her contact information before I left is something that I completely regret. She was a fascinating person that I would love to at least keep in contact with. I can’t even do that. Maybe I’ve been dragged to too many romantic comedies by previous girlfriends where two people meet randomly and the girl’s phone number washes off in the rain. I don’t know, but I wish I could go back and do a few things differently. At least I learned something. I’m might be the biggest idiot alive, or I just made a huge mistake. One of the two. Most people would say the former. I’ll live with it, and you never know, it’s a small world. You know, the kind where you meet up again with an Israeli girl you meet in Rome somehow, randomly. Could happen.
So there it is. Maybe a lot of people had these things figured out already. Probably. It’s taken me awhile. I was a late bloomer, and still am, what can I say? I’ve had an amazing summer. One that I will never forget. I’ve met some amazing people. I got to spend more time with my brother in three months than I have in the past 15 years, which means the world to me. I’ve seen first-hand that you can meet people you can live your dreams with through my brother and his amazing wife, Dawn. I’m moving on with my life with a clean slate. Some of that is unbelievable and freeing, some of it is frightening as hell. Like Steve Winwood, I’m going to roll with the punches. I did it in Prague, and I can do it again. So, enjoy the moments, and don’t live with regrets. Now, I just need to find someone that I can do these things with and I’m ready for my real life to begin.

Rome/Naples/Pompeii/Sardinia - I wish more Rome

I know it's been awhile since my last post, but I have been away for awhile. My trip to Italy definitely had its highs (Rome) and lows (Naples), but overall it was a great experience and one that I can truly say I learned something. I flew into Rome, took a train to Naples, a train back to Rome and then a ferry to Sardinia in the course of the week. More or less, here's what went down.

I got to Rome a little late in the evening due to a delayed flight, leaving me not much time to explore the city the first day. Instead, I wandered a little bit around the neighborhood of my hostel, got my bearings as to how the Metro and bus system worked, and found some cheap eats at the train station grocery store. After the trains, flight, and buses, I was a little tired, and called it an early evening, as I had a long next day ahead of me.

As to what everyone says about Rome, that it is hot, busy with tourists, dirty, and whatever other negative connotations you can think of, I found the opposite to be true. It wasn't that hot, and since there are so many different things to do and see in the city, it seemed as if the hordes of tourists were so spread out in the city that I didn't seem to notice it being that crowded. It's not like Venice, where you have 10,000 people crammed onto the Rialto Bridge, or playing with pigeons in St. Mark's Square. It actually felt pretty laid back. My first destination was the Colosseum, two Metro stops away from the station and easy to find. Climb out of the subway, and boom, there it is in all of it's pock marked, 2000 year old glory. It was impressive. Standing inside and imagining what it must have been like in there all those years ago is quite a scene. Kinda makes me wish they'd bring back gladiator times and cheering for the lions. I spent a couple of hours walking around inside, but it didn't seem like that long. Like I said, you just sort of get lost in your imagination there. From the Colosseum, I walked across the street to Palatine Hill where a majority of the Roman ruins lie. Again, your mind starts to wander in these places. The sports park, the gardens, the churches, the homes, graves, and the rest of the rubble that takes you back to the days of the Romans (the old Romans, not the ones trying to sell you four Euro water). On to the Pantheon, which was pretty incredible since there was a choir singing inside mingling with all of the tourists as they sang. Raphael's grave, check. Picture of the hole in the ceiling, check. Onwards, a lot to see in only a couple of days. From there, I walked to the Fontana di Trevi, which was a lot smaller in person than what it looks like in the movies. This was actually the first place I encountered with the hordes of tourists, therefore, take a couple of quick photos and get the hell out of there. It was cool, but not cool enough to fight through the throngs of people to get that perfect shot of the fountain that I could just buy on a postcard ten feet away. I had pretty much knocked off my checklist for the day, so I just wandered for a couple of hours, seeking out some of the less crowded places. One was the Piazza del Popolo, with its fountains at either end and giant tower in the middle. I made my way up to the enormous city park to just relax for awhile and encountered a pretty peaceful place for a city of 3 million, plus the 800 million tourists. It was nice to find somewhere that most people don't deem necessary to see and just escape for awhile. After a 15 minute nap on a bench in the park, I headed back towards the hostel and grabbed a quick bite to eat. Surprise, it was pizza.

The second day in Rome, I primarily was going to spend in Vatican City. Out of the few 'musts' I had to see in Rome, the Sistine Chapel was near the top of my list. Hopped on the Metro and on to the Vatican. I ran into some tour guides on the way, telling me about the lines to get in to the church and the museum and how they could avoid all of that. And they were pretty persistent about it. So, I told one of them that I could probably give a tour myself, since I was a history major in school with a minor in art history. I failed to mention that I was lying and that a lot of the knowledge I had about the Vatican was learned from the movie Eurotrip. She actually, half kiddingly of course, offered me a job. Looking back, if I wasn't lying, I probably would have taken her up on it.

The Vatican itself was pretty damn impressive. It is massive inside, with enough marble to outfit every kitchen and bathroom countertop in Europe. I only spent about an hour inside the church itself, since I really wanted to get over to the museum and the Sistine Chapel. So I headed out and around the city wall to get to what I came to see. Right in I went, no line whatsoever. So don't believe those tour guides when they pester you. Unless it's me. Little to my knowledge, the Vatican has plundered the planet of it's art and history for generations. They not only had Roman art, but artifacts going back to ancient Egyptian times. Way to go Popes of the past. You have a pretty neat little collection of stuff. After weaving through about 5000 years of history, I b-lined it for the Sistine Chapel. Well, b-line isn't the right word, since you have to weave your way through an array of tours of people from all over the world. When you're anxious to see something, old people and stairs are an annoying combination. Finally, I got to my destination. And 'No Photo' is all the guard inside could say. That and 'Shhhhhh'. It's a holy place, or something like that. It wasn't quite what I expected, but I sat there for a good 45 minutes just staring up at that magnificent ceiling. By the time I left, my neck felt as if I was sitting in the front row at an IMAX theater. Well worth it. I moved on to the Castel San Angelo which was a couple of blocks from Vatican City. It was not originally something I had planned to see, but since I was there, what the hell. And I was glad I did. This place provided some amazing vistas of the city and of the Vatican. After a little time off my feet taking in the views, I headed back towards my hostel and in search of food.

Now, I love pizza. But after a few meals of this bready delight, I needed a change. Luckily, I saw a sign for Korean food near a bus stop by the Vatican, and I saw it as a sign from above. Who knew that Rome had a Chinatown? After searching for about 20 minutes, I found this heavenly place where I walked in and just said 'bulgogi'. After some sign language mix of Korean, Italian, and English, the guy finally accepted that I knew what I was talking about, and just had me take a seat. Then, he brought out the spread. It was awesome. Best meal by far in Rome. I wouldn't have figured it would have been Korean food, in Chinatown, in a deserted back alley restaurant. Belly full, I was ready to head back to the hostel to meet up with an Israeli girl I had met earlier. We walked around the city for awhile, visiting some of the sites at night, which was a completely different experience. We grabbed a beer (which she opened with her teeth, which sounds kind of backwoodsy, but for a hot, ex-Israeli military girl, it was pretty damn cool). We walked and talked until about 2 am, and she made me realize a lot of things. (More on that in a future post)

I wish I could have spent more time in Rome, and I definitely intend to go there again. It was an amazing city, with a lifetime's worth of exploring. I would recommend it to anyone going to Italy. Ignore the remarks made by guidebooks about the heat and busyness of the city, and get there. I myself, had a train to catch to Naples, and more importantly, Pompeii. Naples is a completely different story. I'm pretty sure that every single sanitation worker in this town is on strike and no one either seems to know, or no one seems to care. The traffic here is crazy, too. If there's an open piece of pavement, there will be a scooter there shortly. They honk at each other constantly, as if there's anywhere to go. I'm going to make and sell 'Naples makes me horny' bumper stickers and make a mint. When researching the city, I found that there was an old pizza place called Pizza da Michele which was supposed to have the best pizza in the world. When walking to find this mecca of dough and cheese, I saw some people eating it on the street, and asked directions. After they pointed, I asked how it was. All I got was an 'eh'. Not deterred, I turned the corner to find 50 people waiting in line for this glorious thin crust heaven. Now, I was deterred. I'm not waiting an hour in line for a pizza described as 'eh'. I'm pretty sure I could find a good slice of pie in it's birthplace. Instead, I found a little pastry shop with the other thing you have to eat while in Naples. It's a layered phyllo dough confection with sweetened ricotta cheese inside. I had to stop and eat this thing. Unbelievable. And I don't really like sweets all that much. Screw the pizza, I would eat these every single day.

I didn't have much time left to explore this city, so I headed down towards the marina, watched the sunset over Mount Vesuvius across the bay, and weaved my way back up through the streets, taking in some more sites and enjoyed a pasta dinner prepared by the hostel owner's son. I met some pretty cool Australians at the dinner (I think Australia may be deserted with everyone on vacation), and headed to bed shortly after we all shared some wine. I was in a carb overload and needed to sleep it off. Tomorrow was Pompeii.

If you're going to Italy, go to Rome. Then, skip over Naples, and head straight to Pompeii. This is one of the most awe-inspiring places I have ever seen. The ruins are so well kept, it's insane. It's as if the volcano lopped off the top half of the city and left the rest. I skipped ahead of the tour groups and ended up in a back neighborhood of the city. Before I knew it, I was alone, pretty sure that I was in a section of the city that I wasn't supposed to be in. It didn't matter at the time. You get lost in this place. Again, your imagination runs wild with thoughts of what it was like when this was a fully functioning city. How in the hell did these people build such an amazing place without the use of modern tools. Slaves, of course. These were some smart folks, you know, besides the fact that they built the place at the base of a volcano. Ends up, I was in a restricted section, as I had to crawl under a fence to get out. It was nice though, being there alone, without the hordes. As I explored the city further, I found one of the most fascinating things the archeologists uncovered was the frescoes and paintings on the walls of the some of the buildings. These people were better artists with vegetable oil and tomatoes than I could be with Sherwin-Williams at my disposal. I ended up running into the two Aussie girls from my hostel at the site and walked around with them for my last hour there. Again, it was nice to have people to share these experiences with. The next day was primarily going to be trains and a 15-hour boat ride. So after a shower and some dinner, it was off to bed.

After two trains and a shuttle, I got to my ferry with five minutes to spare. Plus, the lady at the ticket office printed me out the wrong ticket, because apparently I look like a Middle Eastern woman to her. I had been in the sun, and haven't had a haircut in a few months, but c'mon. After getting on the boat, I relaxed on the deck and enjoyed a beautiful sunset over the Mediterranean. Italians must see this sort of thing all the time, since I was the only one up there watching it. I headed inside, dropped off my pack, grabbed a bite and a beer, you know, to help with sea sickness. I slept on a couch in the bar (yes, those were the accomodation they gave me), and woke up early as we were arriving in Cagliari, Sardinia. Not a ferry ride I recommend. I had decided to go to Cagliari since it seemed like somewhere I would never go again in my life, and why not see somewhere different. Well, after Rome and Pompeii, it was sort of a let down. Don't get me wrong, it's still a beautiful place on the giant rock, but it pales in comparison to where I had just been. I made it out to Poetto Beach, which was the first sandy beach I had been on in a long time. Shockingly, the water was freezing, and therefore, not the swimming destination I had desired. Instead, I just fell asleep for a couple of hours, and enjoyed the lazy time. Later that night, I met a guy in my room who was from Colombia, but living in France. We met up later and had a couple of beers and bs'd about everything under the sun. Travel, women, stereotypes about Colombians, everything. Did you know that not everyone in Colombia does coke? News to me.

Off to the airport in the morning. And this ended up being one long day. Shuttle to the airport. Delayed flight to Frankfurt/Hahn airport by an hour. Bus from Hahn to Frankfurt train station - two hours. Delayed train by an hour from Frankfurt to Nurnberg - four hours total. And then I reach the Nurnberg train station to find that the last train home has already run. I was close to sleeping at the station, when I saw a line of people at the information desk. I went over there, and due to the delays in the trains, they were giving people cabs home. I got to split one with a couple that lives an hour away from me. I made it home, however, just past midnight.

In retrospect, I would have spent more time in Rome, taken a train directly down to Pompeii and would have finished the trip up on the Amalfi Coast. Just another learning experience. Oh yeah, and Ryan Air's airports suck. They're two hours away from the major airports and after shuttles and trains, the cost savings of their flights don't mean jack.

I learned a lot about my life on this trip, but I'm going to save that for the next blogpost. I also learned a lot about travel, and a lot about regret (travel and otherwise). More to come.....