A Chance to See Beyond Oneself

The Story

Italy
From Austria I traveled to Venice, Italy; I must say it is just about the most picturesque city I have ever seen. Lots of art, lots of churches, lots of getting lost in the maze of alley walls and endless squares, lots of pictures, lots of American tourists (oh wait, I am one of those too...damn). Enough said. From Venice I ventured south to Siena in central Italy. The views of the Tuscan countryside inspire one to quite their 9-5 job, work at a vineyard, take life at a slower pace, sip wine throughout the day while walking through the green meadows, and spend the evening sitting under your porch staring at the stars. It is quite peaceful. Siena´s center is a mix of old, almost medieval-looking, tall buildings bordered by small countryside houses. When you walk through the city walls you feel transported a few hundred years to the past. One of my roommates in the hostel was this Romanian man (in his 60s) who also spoke Spanish, Italian, and a little German (no english). Since everyone else in the hostel was Italian, we both felt the odd man out and attempted to communicate with my limited knowledge of spanish and german. It was surprising how much time we spent actually learning things from each other (hand gestures always help). I must say though that I was both intrigued and a little afraid of this man I had met. I gathered that he had been in prison for a number of years, it was somehow related to people being shot, he had then lived in monasteries fall over europe, he was married, had kids, and was a truck driver now but also couldnt return to romania for some reason, and our conversation concluded by him calling his wife and telling her everything we had talked about. Even though some of the details were a little peculiar, he was so friendly and it made for such an interesting cross cultural experience.

From Siena I headed south to Rome. I stayed with a couchsurfer there and from the interaction with her house mates and her friends I feel I had a very authentic experience of Roman life. My host was great in showing me all around some of the tourist sites and then also to the more alternative neighborhoods. And the Vatican, oh the Vatican...I have nicknamed it the Roman Disneyland. You wait in large lines to get in to St. Peters Basilica and once inside it is full of tour groups and hoards of people constantly flashing their cameras. It is hard to appreciate the beauty of many of Michaelangelo's and the variety of other incredible artists art. Incredible but packed. It was a similar experience at the vatican museum, especially in the Sistine Chapel. But despire Rome being highly populated with tourists, it was still a wonderful place to visit. I wasn't too thrilled by the many ancient roman ruins because I was able to see so many while in Greece but the good ol colloseum was a worthy visit, despite its morbid history. Italy is great place for art and I do declare by the time I left Italy, I had a pretty heavy overdose; but it was absolutely worth it, very inspiring. But then again, as I have mentioned in other entries, it is hard to appreciate all of it at times.

From Rome back north to Florence. One highlight of my time in Florence was spending a few hours just laying on a grassy lawn in a hidden little garden enjoying the birds singing, the warmth of the sun of my back, and the variety of the color green displayed in all of nature's wonder. It reminded me of days back in Santa Barbara. It had been a while since I had just sat and done absolutely nothing and it was marvelous. My days were filled with art and old scenic buildings. The statue of david was quite impressive and it was even better that I was able to skip the hour wait to get in by sneaking in the exit. I visited Dante's house, saw a great exhibition on Cezanne, lots of works by Bottocelli, and as always some big old churches (but a note to the reader, even though Italy is the home of the catholics, the austrian churches were far more impressive than the italian). A really enjoyable evening followed the contacting of a couch surfer I had met in Melbourne, Austrilia who was now studying in Florence. Her two friends from Melbourne happened to be visiting as well, so the four of us went out for a grand evening of drinks and dancing and me getting locked out of my hostel - I ended up sleeping on some couch cushions we put on the floor at my friends house. The event reminded me again of how important human relationships can be. When traveling all alone, constantly meeting new people and then leaving just as you are getting to know them - familiarity with another person becomes a much desired experience. One more note about Florence, dont go there unless you really like Americans. They are everywhere. As beautiful as Florence can be, too many Americans in in a foreign country is problematic for me. Just about every other young there is spending a month or two studying art history there, its become quite cliche in my mind.

Oh yes, and I went to Genoa for half a day on my way to france. it was quaint.

France
The start of my experience in france was very rewarding. I was able to hang out and stay with two friends from Westmont who were living in Aix in the south of France. It was fun to take a break from site seeing and just hang out in a city. We did a variety of activities together, lots of cooking, drinking, meeting other students living in Aix, learning some french (for me at least), jumping in a rather large fountain in the city center that is strictly forbidden but another big group of people all jumped in right when we were thinking of doing it...so that was good fun. We went down to Marseille for a day trip to go swimming in the Mediterranean and see the city. One night we went to a free choral concert in an old church and highly enjoyed the conclusion of the night with Mozarts requiem, so beautiful. My last day we went for a hike near a large rock mountain outside of town that is featured in many of Cezannes paintings. After walking a while we went for a dip in a remarkable sky blue colored lake, it was refreshing to say the least.

And Aix gave way to Tours. It is a small town about an hour south of Paris in the Loire Valley that is known for its many chateauxs. The town was nice enough but my highlight was meeting a group of three english travelers at a bar one night. We were both at this amazing show of a music fusion of jazz, dixie, and a bit of gypsy flare. We ended up talking and the next day I drove with them to go see the town of Angers and several chateauxs. While cooking dinner with them in their sizable tent that night, we decided, due to our enjoyable experience together, that I would go to Paris for a few days and then meet them Nantes to spend some time camping and traveling with them.

This is where things get interesting

So the next day I took a train to paris. I was planning on staying with someone I met in Greece, but during the day of I couldnt reach him, so I stored my stuff in a locker in the train station and figured I would go see the city until he called me back. Paris is amazing, so many old scenic buildings, beautiful parks, and boulevards. The Louvre was incredible, overwhelming amount of art work, mona lisa and I spent some time together, so that was nice to catch up with her. Arc de Triumphe was impressive, large churches were nice, walking along the river Seine was pleasant, enjoyed the modern art museum, impressive parks, and then it hit me, right there underneath that eiffel tower of theirs (which is pretty ugly in my opinion) - I needed to go to Scandinavia. I had really wanted to go but I wasnt sure if I would have the proper amount of time. But I knew I had to do it, I felt the mysterious voice of direction inside of mine. I knew I wouldnt be able to meet up with my english friends but alas, it was fate. So spontaneity took control, what a fun adventure it would be...or at least I thought it would be.

I made my way to the train station, which also brings up the odd coincidence (obviously there is no such thing, so take my words as jest) that I decided to store my things in the same and only train station (different from the one I arrived in) that has outbound trains to Scandinavia. I had met a girl in Laos from Copenhagen that I knew I could stay and that would make a good starting point to see Sweden and Norway, so I reserved a bed about 40 minutes before the train left. All seemed like it was going perfectly. I started some great conversations with my two roommates in my cabin and then the third entered, also bringing an extra element to our journey, "what an enjoyable trip this is," I thought to myself. One of the guys in our cabin we found was Iraqi and he too was on his way to Scandinavian but for the purpose of seeking asylum in Sweeden. His family had all been killed, how I never really received an answer, but found that our new friend here had been through a lot trying to get out of the country. He traveled by land from Iraq to france, taking a dangerous cramped boat ride to Greece, getting arrested by police several times for not having proper documentation, he got a fake passport from the Ukraine that was also taken, he had people take advantage of him taking a lot of money from him without returning their promised assistance. One of the guys in our cabin was from Ghana and had friends he knew who were also illegal immigrants throughout europe and he began to tell us about all the different regulations of European countries and how some are very helpful with immigrants and others very harsh. It was sad to see the Iraqi guy constantly afraid that someone might be overhearing our conversation, every time the train stopped he asked us in his broken english if police were going to come aboard to check for passports. The past few nights he had slept in train stations because he had very little money left and was getting sick, so it was quite sad to see.

I by no means advocate illegal immigration but I could tell he was in need of some help. So we decided to join together to try to get to copenhagen and then from there it would be easy for him to get to sweeden to meet his friend there. We had a stop off in Hamburg in germany the next morning and I was suppose to immediately transfer to the next train but I thought I might have time to help him buy his ticket for the same train before it left. Unfortunately we missed it and spent some time talking and sitting waiting for our next train. The real problem we were worried about running into was that they would check for passports on the next train ride because Denmark is more strict about that then other EU countries. We got on to the train and after putting our stuff down my friend was worried he had the wrong ticket and so he went to ask the conductor outside. I could see the conductor wasnt understanding too well so I went out to help real fast before the train left. What I didnt realize though is that I left my 2 month eurail pass sitting on the seat in plain sight. After about 5 minutes or so of making sure my friend has the right ticket we got back on the train. I didnt even recognize my ticket was gone. When the conductor came by about an hour through the ride asking to see tickets, I then realized my rail pass was stolen. All I could think was, shit! That was my pass for traveling throughout europe, now it is gone and I still have a lot of time before I fly home. I thought there may have been some chance I had left it with the conductor we had talked to at the last station so I got off at the next stop (I had no choice actually since I had no ticket), wished my iraqi friend good luck on his risky trip to sweeden, took another train back to the Hamburg station, and found the conductor and finally came to the hard realization it was stolen and gone for good (no insurance policy available).

So what happened next? Tune in again sometime...

...ok so its nothing too exciting worth a cliff hanger like that, I stayed in Germany and thats where I am now. Bitter at the wasted money of my stolen rail pass but trying to accept that there is a reason for it and attempting to be positive about what will come my way.

The Reflection
As usual all of these stories take place within the context of taking lots of train rides, wandering through cities, attempting to adapt to foreign cultures and languages, eating different food, meeting random locals, experiencing different environments, figuring out city transportation systems, packing my backpack, unpacking my backpack, eating as much as possible from kebab stands before I return home and am without such splendorous tastes. I wander and wonder. Perhaps the tourist sites are really just the background for all of these day to day activities that are my realities of living as a traveler. A wondrous journey this is.