It’s been quite a bit since I’ve written one of these…and if you go back to the first one, the writing was not so good…so I’d expect the same here as I get back into this. It’s not that I haven’t been adventuring, but I have been finding it difficult to sit down and write. This month, there have been a few milestones…and humans have the easiest time starting things when there is a milestone so it seemed like the perfect time to start writing here again.
This month, I turned 30 and moved out of Austin…to live in Italy. Over the last two years of bloglessness, I have been practicing Italian. After meeting a few Italians via volleyball and other friends, I started coming to Italy every other month to practice the language and see the country. The more time I spent here, the more I felt aligned with my heritage. Learning Italian in Texas is a bit difficult and I was becoming a bit exhausted with America and missing adventure. I did some work to get all of my documentation lined up and am going to get my Italian citizenship by descent while I live here. Outside of that little update, this blog post is going to cover the trip out to Italy.
At the beginning of August, Ryan came down to Texas and I did a little farewell tour to Austin. I spent some time with all the various friends I met, ate at all of my favorite restaurants and sold a lot of my things. Needless to say, I spent too much time doing fun stuff and packing didn’t take priority. Ryan and my dear friend Becca did all of the packing while I lolligagged around last minute. One day, I’ll stop procrastinating…but as long as it keeps working out, probably not. We attached a trailer to my Encore and set off on the twenty four hour drive back to Cleveland. Pretty boring drive, but it preempted the three weeks I got to spend in Cleveland with my family and enjoying the city for the first time in summer in four years. The three weeks were mostly filled with family time, volleyball, a dadchelor trip to West Virginia, and a wedding celebration.
When I decided to move to Italy, I had no idea where I wanted to live(spoilers: I still don’t), so I came to Italy a bunch to check it out. To finish my citizenship, I have to have a lease and have to stay in the same city for four to six months while they finish all of the processing. I decided that I should spend a month somewhere while I get comfortable being in a foreign country before signing a lease, so Ryan agreed to spend the month in a small town we visited earlier this year called Cesena. We came here in February to visit our friend Andrea that we met via Beachbox Camps and he agreed to train us if we lived here for a month. Last time I was in Europe, I realized I had been to twenty seven countries. This gave me the idea to hit three more countries before we got to Cesena so that I’d hit my thirtieth country just after my thirtieth birthday. The battle plan was to leave Cleveland on August 29th.
Like any of my travel stories, they don’t go as planned. I spent the day of the 29th saying goodbye to my family and finishing up packing (see earlier for other procrastination references). An hour before I was supposed to meet Ryan at the airport, the flight got delayed by two hours. No big deal, just some more time to spend with family. After clicking into the app to check on the exact time of the delay, I saw another message stating that the delay pushed us into a storm, so the flight was canceled. After interacting with support for the booking site and the airline, nothing had changed. They booked us for a flight the next evening, which would have us in London later than we were even planning to stay there. Ryan headed to the airport and got an agent to get us another flight in the morning to Oslo, Norway so we wouldn’t miss our plans there. Once that was settled, we spent the evening playing Mario Party and eating pizza with my family, so overall, not too bad.
Prior to leaving, my dear sweet nephew, Max, couldn’t help but be a little plague bearer (because that’s what children do) and so I left Cleveland pretty congested. We got to the airport the next morning, no problems and headed off to an eight hour layover in New York. My work wife, Chelsea, also happened to be in New York for the weekend and was heading to Europe that afternoon. The plan was to hop into the city, hang out and then take an Uber back to the airport with Chelsea since she was heading to the same airport. What I didn’t plan for was the pressure change of a plane descending to smash my eustachian tubes with the congestion, making me feel like I permanently had an earbud in my ear. So basically, my few hours in New York were spent feeling like I had my head underwater and I couldn’t hear anything. Regardless, we met up with Chelsea and her friend, Rachel for drinks with a view of the Brooklyn Bridge and wandered around the city for a few hours.
The taxi and flight were pretty uneventful. At some point in the air, the pressure had changed enough that I was able to clear my ears and finally feel normal again. It was all a ruse though. As we descended, my ears became congested again, but this time both of them. This time accompanied by a brutal pressure in my head. Not a fan, but not too bad.
Bring Me Your Best
Of all of my travels, I have only checked two bags. One when I moved to Austin…and one for this trip. I thought I could just ship a package to Italy after I arrived…but right before I left, I found out that would cost me upwards of fifteen hundred dollars. So this trip, I had my regular travel bag (around thirty pounds), my Yeti laptop bag (another twenty) and a large checked bag (almost exactly fifty pounds). This is important because it dictated some of our movement for the week.
Back to the actual trip, we landed in Oslo, got all of our bags to a nice hotel that our friend Jenny booked for us. With little to no sleep and both of my ears congested to the point where I couldn’t hear, Ryan and I head off to a tournament. We ubered to the event and walked up. We got lucky and it was around 75 degrees, which is rare for an evening in Oslo at the end of August. We made it a priority to make it to this tournament because the Olympic gold medalists are from Norway and they would be playing. This was also a threes tournament where you randomly got different teammates of various skill levels every game.
Exhausted and with the inability to hear, being social wasn’t really on the menu. Everyone there spoke English well but were obviously defaulting to Norwegian. I got the chance to play against both olympians, but it’s always difficult with random teammates to play a solid game. Ryan didn’t get so lucky. Seven or eight games later and the tournament came to an end. We stuck around to play a game with our friend Jenny and Adrian that we met in Zanzibar earlier this year. After the event, we roamed our way back to the hotel. It was around 10pm…everything was mostly closed. We tried ordering things but didn’t have texting in Norway…so ended up getting pizzas and kebabs. Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs, so we definitely got a bit too much.
The next day, we stored our bags and headed to the Oslo city center. My favorite thing to do is go to a single point of interest and then just walk as we find other things. So we headed to an area of Oslo called Barcode and roamed around. The architecture of Oslo is gorgeous, it’s like a mix of modern and older European. It’s a bit odd because they will make buildings that look like older European cities but are obviously new. The city is surrounded by water and nature, which is always a beautiful backdrop. There are also places to sit everywhere, which seems so odd. Around 3pm on a Thursday, the area was full of people just sitting around. Norway has a really interesting situation because it was one of the poorest countries in Europe before they found all of the oil. After getting all of that oil money, they made a lot of decisions with the good of the people in mind, which seems a bit wild coming from America. Every citizen has a large pension set for them and they did a lot to improve the quality of life there, knowing that eventually the oil will run out. It seems crazy that like 5 Norwegians didn’t take all that money but I guess we don’t all capitalism so well. Anyways, after that, our friend, Adrian, met up with us and we walked around the city a bit more. He left because he had to get ready for a Rome trip and we realized we had walked about 15 miles so we headed back to the hotel and ate some food.
The next day, we had a flight around 6pm, so we went to find some Norwegian waffles with yogurt and strawberry on one half (amazing) and caramelized cheese on the other (not so much). After we tried this, the weather turned gloomy. Our hotel was actually attached to an IMAX and despite my deep love of movies, I had never been to one. Ryan doesn’t really love movies, but it’s raining, so too bad. We looked up some movie times and NOPE was playing in IMAX and ended right at the time we needed to leave. So we packed our stuff, brought it to the main desk and headed over. Norway apparently treats their concession stands like a convenient store filled with snacks, which is pretty cool, and after posting that, I found out apparently a lot of Europe does too. We saw this movie, it was great, and then hopped in a taxi on our way to the airport.
A Land of Castles and Friends
Next stop: Estonia. This one has been on the list for a while. We’ve met a lot of Estonians via Beachbox Camps, since they’re neighboring countries. I had heard it was all castles, so what’s not to love. The part we were a bit quieter about (shout out Americans lack of geographical knowledge) is that Estonia borders Russia and Russia wasn’t so happy with them when we arrived. I wasn’t particularly worried, but no reason to make loved ones worried. Anyways, we flew in, walked around some castles and found the closest open restaurant….an American themed pub. Whatever, food is food. The next day our friend, Merike, picked us up with her boyfriend and we met her beach volley partner and some others from Beachbox Camps at the indoor facility they play at. Upon walking in, I noticed it looked strikingly similar to the one in Riga, Latvia, which I found out is because it is owned by Renars, who runs Beachbox Camps. Small world. We played an hour or two of sideout and then Martin gave us a tour of Tallinn.
During the tour, we stopped for some lunch and walked by the seaside. They had some historic battleships that we were just allowed to climb all over. I always enjoy these things because Americans would die or break things if you let them do this. As proof, I immediately climbed into a gunner seat to mess around. Other than this, jet lag was starting to hit me and Estonia doesn’t share the same love of seats as Norway, but luckily we found some public bean bag chairs overlooking the sea to get some fresh air. After this, we saw some other volleyball places and then went to relax in the hotel. A few hours later, we ordered a straight up American portion of food and met our friends for a board game night. Other than Mafia, I haven’t played board games in any other language and we immediately realized that if we played in English, we likely hold an advantage, but if we played in Estonian, we just can’t play. After some solid hospitality and friend time, it was time to head home to sleep before an early flight.
We flew into Venice and grabbed a train to Rimini, the Myrtle Beach of Europe. One chill night here walking along the beach before heading to Cesena for our month long stay. After this, I spent the month in Cesena, hit Belgium to see Amine and my thirtieth country. At the end of the month, I headed back to Austin for 5 days and immediately flew back to Spain for Beachbox Mallorca. These things will just be covered in an IG post in favor of writing more vaguely about Italy and living here. Thanks for reading while I knock the rust off. Ciao ciao!
So it’s been a bit since I posted, so this will cover just over two weeks. Back to solo traveling has slowly pushed me into old habits, namely very rapidly jumping from city to city. I can rip through a city alone and after sitting on buses/trains/planes the last thing I want to do is sit in a random city. So I’ve been a bit busy running around to write a blog post, but I am uncomfortably blasting this one out on a train ride. Without further explanation, our story left off arriving in Vienna.
Like a Storm Cloud Over My Head
So I have been dragging rain clouds with me to each city. Apparently before I arrive and after I leave is beautiful weather, but storms arrive with me. I exit my bus in Vienna in a rain jacket and with my rain fly on my bag. A short walk and I arrive at my hostel, my first time back in a hostel in Europe. I couldn’t check in yet, so I dropped my bag and roamed around for a bit before coming back to check in. Vienna is home to some of famous musicians of the past and is known for its music. I walked around to see all of the amazingly detailed statues throughout the city and feel sad that all of the food options were similar to Berlin but much more expensive. After roaming, I wasn’t feeling very social so I found a local artsy movie theater and saw Stan and Ollie.
The next morning, two people from my room were doing the walking tour so I joined them. Vienna’s history is filled with cool stories and has all the awesome statues to match. I was especially a big fan of all of the Hercules statues on the palace entrances and will be sure to grab some of those when I settle and get a home. The tour guide went over some interesting things about why Viennese coffee comes with a cup of water and Vienna’s very involved history during World War II. After getting the history rundown, the tour dropped us off on one of the most expensive shopping streets in Europe. The group of us snuck away to grab some food and I had an amazing Goulash while an Australia asked me every possible question about living in India and getting yoga certified.
Afterwards, I roamed the city a bit more as there were some sights we didn’t cover in the walking tour and usually most of my time is spent walking. After the long walk, I hid in a little cafe and checked eating an apple strudel in Vienna off my list while writing some code. In the morning, I needed to catch a bus but wanted to grab a schnitzel before I left Vienna, so my roommate and the yoga informed Australian joined me for brunch before I took off.
Everyone Is A Beer Drinker In Munich
Arriving in Munich, I was starving. I was supposed to couchsurf with another volleyball player, but I still wasn’t feeling very social so I paid for a hostel. I got a recommendation on where to eat, a brewery that was super famous in Munich and had been brewing beer for almost two hundred years. I ended up walking past it because it was a large, crowded place and I was just trying to eat alone. I found a little place where I could grab another schnitzel and spetzl and popped in. I asked for a table for one before realizing the tables were set family style and was sat in the middle of a group.
The group already had liter steins of beer, and I don’t like beer, but after a short discussion, we all agreed I was in Munich and needed one. The group ended up being three guys from Southern California so we chatted while I ate. I intended to see the brewery after eating, and they were looking to continue drinking, so they joined me. The brewery was awesome. Casks and casks of beers flew out of a back room and the bartender hammered a tap into them. The bartender took no money and served nothing but beers. For the almost three hours we were there, he was consistently pouring beers. Munich turned out exactly as I imagined it.
The next day, I roamed around Munich, checking out the glockenspiel and various churches. Roaming Europe is a bit less exciting than Asia as it mostly ends up being what churches you can see and what statues are where. I ended up sitting in a park with a giant pretzel and just people watching for a bit before I decided it was time to take off.
Sir, You Can’t Afford To Breath Here
A short bus ride later and I arrived in Zurich. Maria, the awesome photographer who took care of Ryan and I our first time in Koh Phangan, was gracious enough to let me take over her apartment for over a week. I got off the bus and made the fifteen minute walk to her apartment, stubbornly refusing to take the tram so I could see the surrounding area. Upon arrival, I took a shower and did some laundry before she asked if I wanted to watch a movie. My favorite question in the world. I hadn’t laid down and watched a movie on a television since that night in the Vietnamese hotel in the middle of nowhere over two months prior.
The following day, she had to go to work, so I explored the area and found that Zurich is at least twice as expensive as anywhere else I had been in Europe and I was still used to Asian prices. A Swiss Franc is almost equivalent to the US dollar and a fast food burger meal cost almost twenty Swiss Francs. I knew this week would be rough on the wallet. Luckily, Maria left me her gym pass so I did some yoga before heading to the gym for a workout. My first time lifting weights in over two months and I had to make sure not to get too excited and hurt myself so I could go again the rest of the week.
Hitting a nearby grocery store to let me afford eating, this was the first time I had cooked my own food since I left besides during cooking classes. My cooking skills have never been as intricate as I would like, but I have my usual stuff down to a tee. Maria showed me around Old Town and to some chocolate shops and I finally got a chance to relax with nothing planned to do. Most of my week was yoga, gym and movies, and anyone who knows me knows that that isn’t something I was upset about.
A scoop of gelato was four Francs, so I didn’t eat any gelato while I was there out of principle, as it was two Euros for two scoops in the rest of Europe and I would be in Italy next. Otherwise, Zurich was a great pitstop. On my last full day in Zurich, Maria won some tickets to an orchestra and I remembered how much I enjoy watching people perform such intricate music in perfect harmony. This wasn’t my final full day in Switzerland though.
The next day was a Swiss holiday, so Maria didn’t have work and we took the train to Interlaken, a city between two lakes (thus the name) that was in the Alps. We hiked up to the top of Harder Klum and I got to take in the breathtaking views of the Alps behind the lakes. I am eternally baffled that people grow up in places so beautiful. After the hike, we came down and I had to get some fondue in its birthplace and got to try to rosti. A train ride stopping in Lucerne and then back in Zurich.
Most of me visiting people on this trip has involved me disappearing while they are at work, and this was no different. I left at 9am, so unfortunately another instance of taking off unnoticed.
You Think You’re Too Good For Your Home?
Everyone always assumes I have been to Italy, as that is what most of my heritage is. I have held travel to Italy on this high pedastal, always saying that if I go to Italy, I have to go for a while and see everything. I decided that excuse doesn’t make sense and I should at least hit one Italian city, but you know me by now, and sitting still isn’t my M.O. My bus went from Zurich to Milan and then I had a train to Pisa.
Arriving at the Italian border, I was excited to mark Italy as my twentieth country visited since I first left the U.S. less than three years ago. As we reached the border, our bus was stopped. The first time a train or a bus had ever been stopped at a border for me while traveling in Europe. Police came on and checked everyone’s passports. I immediately realized that my Spanish knowledge wasn’t helping much with Italian. I speak all of these languages and can’t understand the language of the place my bloodline is from. This was embarassing. The police brought on a dog and it found marijuanain someone’s bag. We waited while they were processed and then we got to Milan.
Upon getting to Milan, I took a tram to the train station and searched for food. I got a giant calzone and some gelato. Italy already topped the list of places on the trip. A few more hours on a train and I was in Pisa. Worried about missing my stop because Pisa wasn’t the last stop for that train, I ended up hopping off a stop in advance. My hostel was a twenty five minute walk away with all of my stuff, but the route took me past the Leaning Tower. I’m not sure how many direction lists include turning right at famous monuments, but these ones did.
I got to the hostel around ten and the only things open were pizzerias, so I grabbed a big pizza for only five euros and then got some sleep. The next day I roamed around and hit all the monuments in Pisa, which isn’t too many. Finding a riverside cafe, I grabbed a cannoli dipped in chocolate chips and pistachio, perfection.
A friend told me about an area just west of Pisa where they play volleyball on the beach so I booked a hostel without doing any other research. That bit is necessary because I didn’t realize that there was only one bus per hour that went that direction and it took forty five minutes. As a reference, the city further south than that that also had a beach required a fifteen minute train that came frequently. I hopped on the bus and it broke down halfway, leaving me over an hour walk from the hostel to wait thirty more minutes for the next bus. If you haven’t gotten the memo yet, I have bad travel luck.
I relaxed in the hostel before heading to the beach. The beach was a forty minute walk from my hostel, and since I didn’t catch the bus in time, it was faster to walk than wait for the bus. The beach with the volleyball nets was called “Bagno Del Americani” which means “Bathroom of Americans”, which I am still confused about but was pretty consistent with the other beach names. Upon arriving, I hopped in the water and watched some volleyball. They were only playing fours and there were about seven groups of four waiting to use two courts and with my lack of Italian language knowledge, I ended up just spectating. There was also a Capoiera level test going on near the courts, so I got to watch that which was cool. Capoiera is high on the list of skills to learn. It’s essentially Brazilian breakdance fighting. After having my fill of spectating, I caught a bus back.
I hoped to just grab dinner at my hostel but there was some sort of family reunion going on so I snuck out to a nearby restaurant. For the first time on this trip, I ordered pasta. A carbonara really hit the spot for how hungry I was. Like an idiot, I am always determined to try local delicacies and a local signature of the area I was in, Livorno, is the Ponce. The Ponce is a variation of an Espresso Corretto, which is espresso and whiskey, but with rum replacing the whiskey. I don’t like rum or espresso, and the drink is served piping hot in a shot glass. I did my best to finish it quickly, as is custom, and ended up burning my tongue.
A Quick Blast of History
The following morning I woke up at 6am and caught the long 7am bus back over to Pisa. Getting to my 8:30am train early, I found the platform heading to Florence and waited. I hopped on and wrote some code for an hour before checking my GPS to see how close I was. I was very far. I had gotten on the train in the opposite direction. The sign had said where the train was departing from , not where it was headed. I was now two hours from Florence and was immediately sick of traveling. I just wanted to lay on the ground until it was time to fly to Madrid. A thirty minute wait and then a two hour train ride and I was finally in Florence.
Exiting the train station, I found a place to drop my bag not far from Santa Maria Cathedral. The cathedral is huge and awe inspiring, and was entirely wrapped in a line to get inside. This would be a common sight in Florence. Next, I hit Galleria Accademia, where the original David statue lives. Again, the building was wrapped in a line and even if you waited, entry cost thirty Euros. I have been traveling long enough that I am good on paying a lot or waiting a lot to see inanimate objects. I headed back to the cathedral to grab some gelato and people watch. I decided it was a good idea to eat before gelato so I grabbed a porchetta panini from a little shop. A group of Chinese tourists were having trouble ordering so I did my best to bridge the gap between the Chinese group and the Italian staff with my very limited Italian knowledge. Luckily, they were asking about sugar and I know that word from ordering Coke Zero. Next stop, Edoardo’s for gelato. It was suggested by several people, so I actually waited in line for this.
Next up, I went to see the statue of Dante Alighieri, author of Dante’s Inferno and the Basilica of Santa Croce, burial place of Galileo and Machiavelli. A walk along the river and I hit some museums with even more huge lines. I began to wonder how much time on average a Florence tourist spends just standing in lines. Next stop was Ponte Vecchio, a bridge with shops built into its walls that sells mostly gold and jewelry. Off to my favorite spot, Piazza del Signoria.
Piazza del Signoria is an open plaza filled with statues surrounding a church. Here you can find replicas of famous statues, including a replica of Michelangelo’s David, that statue people were paying thirty Euros and waiting hours to go see a few blocks away. Amongst many others, this plaza houses a statue of Perseus holding Medusa’s severed head with an insane amount of detail and more of the Hercules statues like in Vienna.
After this, I needed some food so I hit up another suggestion, All’antico Vinaio. I was told this was a really good sandwich shop, what I wasn’t told is that there were five of them all next to each other and all of them had an insane line. So far, I had only waited in line for gelato and food, not mad.
After eating, I roamed the city a bit more, in search of a bathroom, which is much harder than it should be. I found the Fontana del Porcellino, or the Piglet Fountain, where you rub its snout and put a coin in its mouth and if it falls into the grate below, it means good luck. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the good luck and I accept my fate and didn’t grab my coin again for another try, like many of the other tourists. Back to my bag and I hit the train station to go to La Spezia.
I Expected Italian To Come Out When You Opened Your Mouth
The train arrives and I make the walk through La Spezia to my hostel. The hostel was a converted modern apartment, and it provided a very homey feel making it very easy to make friends. I grabbed a soda and found some information about hiking the Cinque Terre, five seaside towns on the western coast of Italy separated by trails.
Up early and ready to go, I grabbed breakfast and made a battle plan for hiking the Cinque Terre. Some of the friends I had made were also doing the hike, so I made plans to meet up with them in the cities. Over the course of this trip, I have learned that all the Spartan training made the speed I like to hike at significantly faster than a comfortable speed for normal humans and normal human hiking speed now makes my brain want to explode from boredom. I started in the middle city, Corniglia, and hiked off to Vernazza. A one and a half hour hike knocked out in forty minutes and I grabbed myself a panini and some gelato while I waited for my friends.
After we spent some time relaxing in Vernazza, we went to start the hike to Monterosso. The person checking tickets at the beginning of the hike saw my Tevas and said I needed closed toe shoes, even though I had just done a full hike and the shoes offered more support than most of the shoes other people were wearing. No go. I contemplated taking the train to Monterosso and hiking the other way, but there was a chance I would be stopped there too. I grabbed the train back to La Spezia, ran to the hostel to switch shoes and came back, then a train back to Monterosso. I got there around the time my friends did, so we checked out the beach town and then began another hike. This one reaching a viewpoint that provides the other view of all five cities.
After the hike, we took a quick swim. The water in this area is so clear you can perfectly see your feet while swimming. It mostly looks like a giant pool of blue Powerade that extends to the horizon. A pitstop at a restaurant to eat some lasagna and try some white wine made in the surrounding mountains before eating some gelato and heading to the city of Manarola to watch the sunset with a cannoli in hand before heading home.
Back to the hostel, I made a pit stop for more food. I found a burger place near the hostel and stood there for a minute looking at the menu. When I opened my mouth to order, the cashier looked immediately surprised. “I expected Italian to come out when you opened your mouth.”, he blurted. Maybe next time. My burger and I returned to the hostel where the common room and the kitchen were packed with people. I found a corner seat and began eating. The preface this part, I had told my new friends that in over five months of traveling, the only nationality that ever had anything to say about me being American was Canadians. A girl asked where everyone was from. She was unphased when she was told the Netherlands and New Zealand, but when I replied, “I am American.” between bites, she began a tirade. Usually, I reply to this question with “The States” or “USA”, because in the past, other countries from North and South America have been a bit displeased with this answer, but “The States” and “USA” bring about their own confusion with non native English speakers. Her immediate response was “Where are you from? You’re not American. Everyone in North and South America are Americans. So where are you from?” In the past, I probably would have gone toe to toe with her, using my intelligence and general lack of caring what people think to brute force her into an apology, but these things are trivial. I have been traveling for months, this is not the first time someone has had a holier than thou response to me being American/from the US. I calmly replied, “Are you Canadian?” To which her look changed to confusion. “Yes, how did you know?” I told her that Canadians always have something to say about America. She continued and I explained to her that in almost every other language, citizens of the US are referred to with some sort of “American” prefix. Americano, Amerikanisch, Amerikanskiy, etc. I didn’t make these languages and it seems like an odd thing to get up in arms about. My burger was gone and I snuck into the kitchen to find other people to chat with.
At 11pm, the common areas closed and we went to a nearby bar to continue chatting. Looking at alcoholic beverages, I saw “The Godfather”, my go to drink in college when I was quitting drinking but wanted to just have one so everyone would leave me alone. Marlon Brando’s Scotch/Amaretto mix seemed like the perfect drink for Italy. We finished up and headed back to sleep.
One Last Stop
The next morning, I hit up Riomaggore, the fifth city, to check them all off the list. I planned to hike to Porto Verene but it would have been six hours, which would have put me all the way up to my train time. I hiked with my friends from the first night for the first hour of their hike and stopped at a viewpoint that gave me a view of some of the other cities, as well as the viewpoint we hiked to the day before. After I left them, I hiked back down to grab some gnocchi. After finishing up, I grabbed the train back to La Spezia and did a little sight seeing there, since I never saw the city I was actually staying in. From there, I grabbed some gelato and got on my train, with a quick stop in Parma before ending up in Milan.
People had given me many warnings about how boring Milan was, but I rip through most cities in a day, so I wasn’t really worried. I paid a bit extra for a more social hostel to hopefully make a friend to see the city with, but when I got there, it was mostly filled with twenty year old Americans. No thanks. I got a recommendation for what area to eat in, took off and came back to watch a movie.
The next morning, I had hoped to play some volleyball, as it had been over two weeks since I had played. Most of the Italian cities had left me empty handed while looking for beach volleyball, but my lack of speaking Italian and their usual lack of speaking English made it not so likely I would stumble up anything. No luck here either. I left the hostel at 9:30am and headed for Bar Luce. Bar Luce is entirely designed by Wes Anderson and is housed in the Fondazione Prada. After chatting with some Americans who had awkwardly asked me for directions in broken Italian, I took off for Bocconi University.
Prior to deciding to quit my job, discard all of my things and roam the Earth, I had considered quitting my job and running away to a top business Master’s school. SDA Bocconi had been my main choice, since it was in the top ten and was located in Italy. I still have hopes of attending that school, and my newfound desire for Italian fluency only pushes that. I stopped by the campus and it felt a bit like a super tiny Ohio State, so future me could definitely do that. A bit of a walk to the famous Duomo and I stopped to grab a bunch of pictures.
The Duomo is overwhelming. It is huge and full of ornate details. For some reason, there is a crazy long necked dinosaur creature right near the main door and I sat for a bit wondering what other crazy things are on this building. A short walk to the shopping area led me to a tile mosaic bull where you’re supposed to spin on your heel on the bull’s balls for good luck and then to a statue of Leonardo Da Vinci. A lucky text from a friend sent me to the San Bernardino alle Ossa, a church with a room filled with human bones and skulls. The history of Christianity is insane and when they ran out of cemetery room, they decorated this room with bones and skulls. A short walk over to the “L.O.V.E.” statue to end my tourism. This statue was of a very details hand, with every finger cut off besides a raised middle finger, apparently meant for the bankers that fill Milan. Back to the Duomo to enjoy some ravioli and try the apertivo “Crodino” and I decided to end my time in Milan.
After walking ten miles for the day, I went back to the hostel to charge my phone and download some movies for the trip. I also found out the trip from hostel to airport would be an hour and a half, so I wanted to leave early to account for any issues. I grabbed some gelato and carried my stuff to the tram, which I took to a bus, that had fifty minutes to drive to the airport. Then I went through the slowest airport security and finally got on my flight to Madrid.
Technically, Madrid should kind of be in this post based on the date but I will save it for next time. Two days in Madrid, then a weekend in New York for the AVP NYC Open and then I am back in Cleveland after over one hundred and fifty days. Ciao!