I had a busy day in Verona and I think this post might be too long….

Tags

cathedral, debussy, duomo, explore, food, Italia, italy, piazzale, travel, verona

So, I had told myself that I would wake up and be out of the apartment by 9 at the very latest, but obviously I didn’t end up leaving until 10. But really, I was fine with that. The way I’ve learned to travel that works best for me is an incredibly flexible itinerary. I had a vague notion of what I wanted to see that day. Mom had sent me some links and I’d done my own research too (shocking, I know). Plus I’d seen a couple of things the previous day that had piqued my interest. See? There’s some logical reasoning for my aimless wanderings around cities.

Before I left the apartment and guaranteed wi-fi, I looked up the damn Caffé Turbino place and kept the directions up on my phone along with the restaurant The Guardian had recommended. Turns out the latter was really close to the Teatro Romano and the Piazzale Castiel de Pietro, which I really wanted to see. Perfect.

Milhouse and I are very similar people.

I finally head out to town and go by the Castelvecchio that I had passed yesterday, part of which is this arched bridge that I had sort of fallen in love with the day before. So even though I was p hungry, I figured it wouldn’t take too long to explore. I walked into the gardens there that were nice enough, but I’ve definitely seen better.

That sunshine though. What am I, in an Abrams movie?

I ambled around and noticed a building labeled “Reception” that people were milling in and out of. Since the theme of my European Adventures thus far has been “Follow the crowds that are clearly touristy” I headed on in.

“Bongiorno” The woman calls to me as I hesitatingly walk in. She’s very Italian: skinny and well-dressed. Everything I am not basically, and her very appearance reminds me achingly of just how American I am no matter how I try to blend in.

“Ah…uh..Bongiorno!” I reply, rifling through the leaflets and pamphlets presented before me, thinking that maybe for once I sounded somewhat not touristy…

“Ese, in English” The woman replies as she hands me a pamphlet describing an exhibit that was all over Verona. So much for those hopes and dreams of blending in…She promptly hands me 2 more pamphlets and speaks rapidly in Italian. The only words which I’m able to understand in her speech are ‘quatro’ (which I know from quatro formaggio pizza…) and ‘arrivederce’ as she glides out of the room, staring at me as she leaves, as if to ask me what I thought I was still doing there and please kindly leave as quickly as possible.

“Grazie? Arrivederce?” I call back as I almost stumble out of the small room back into the sunshine. Confused and addled, I somehow move my body towards the sign that indicates the entrance to the museum. I had realized yesterday that I’d forgotten my William and Mary ID in Germany, and the sign seemed insistent that I have a card to prove my studentness and receive the generous 2 euro discount. I mean, even though I’m TECHNICALLY not a student anymore…the ID I have doesn’t have an expiration date and I am abusing the crap out of it for as long as possible.

The regular entrance fee was 6 euro and I left, scoffing that a museum would ask an entire $8 from me just to explore a 14th century castle with tons of interesting art and artifacts from over the centuries…I quickly realized after this speech of mine that I am quite possibly an idiot and turned around and paid.

The museum was actually pretty great if you’re into 14th-16th art. It was nifty to see the clear evolution of the frescos and art in general.

Its like the artist has never seen a person before. Or a boob. Also I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this character in a Far Side Cartoon

Googley eyes are the highest of art forms.

Okay okay here’s a good one

These Verona artists were gritty as heck, loved blood and pain, and you know what? I kind of adored it. I mean not too much but just enough.

Dopest crucifix I’ve ever seen.

I think that’s what I really like about Italy in general. It’s a bit on the dirty side and bit on the gritty side, at least it’s cities are. Sometimes I feel as though Germany is TOO clean and tidy and organized. I mean have you seen my room or me in general? Germany is my antithesis in every possible way. It can be intimidating living in Germany.

I went on top of the castle too, and explored as much as possible. I love going to Castles because its fun to imagine what used to be there. The soldiers walking around, people living their daily lives, falling in love, running around, working, etc. And now it’s a tourist attraction. Where men died what feels like eons ago, young children laugh and play. Life goes on, things change. But the castle was beautiful as were the views.

Europe makes some damn pretty clocks.

Is it just me, or is the sky bluer in Europe?

They built this bridge as a means of escape for the nobility in case of invasion. I TAUGHT YOU THINGS. YOU ARE WELCOME FRIENDS AND FAMILY.

New Best Friend, sorry Rebecca.

My selfie game is getting better with every trip.

Whilst I was in one of the exhibits a woman approached/startled me like a young deer.

“Parla Italia?”
“Uh. No..” I reply, curious as to why this woman is approaching me. It can’t be for a lighter and/or cigarette since we’re inside and near art, and even though Europe is very smoker-friendly, I think they may draw the line at smoking near precious art.
“Ah, Ingles?”
“Si…” Is she trying to get me to take her picture? In…in a museum? I mean…I’ll do it, but like weirdo amirite?
“In about five minutes there will be a free concert!” She says as she gestures towards about 25 empty seats set up 5 feet from us.
“OH! Grazie” So maybe not a weirdo, just someone who works at the museum attempting to make me more cultured. Appreciated random Italian lady, Appreciated.

I could hear them (the musicians) tuning up from behind a screen and I remembered music I had heard earlier. I had thought it was from some fine dining place in the castle that I was forbidden to go to because I’m clearly American and a tourist. Nope, just a gorgeous string quartet playing Debussy.

Unreal

Honestly, it was a little on the perfect side. I was surrounded by 15th century art in a 14th century castle, listening to Debussy. I don’t know if it was the hunger I felt or the beauty of it all, but I got a wee bit misty eyed. What, me cry at the drop of a hat? NEVER. Europe has so changed me. #newcontinentnewme

Also this guy. I think he’s on Adventure Time.

After the concert had ended (it was only 30 minutes or so long) I went back to exploring and going through the exhibits and castles. Though at this point I was so done with reading everything (the exhibits were lovely because they had cards describing the key pieces in the room in 4 languages. They gave details on the artists, historical context, etc.) that I ended up kind of casually jaunting through the rest of the exhibits. It’d already been two hours, well after noon at this point, and still I had not eaten. I think my way of traveling includes not stopping to eat until I’m on the edge of fainting.

I bid a fond farewell to Castelvecchio and the hunt for Caffé Turbino continued.

I have this thing about souvenirs….I never ever know what to get. My roommate and I started collecting Magnets from every place we go as a means of 1) decorating our room and 2) they’re easy to transport back to our room and eventually back to the States. But other than that I am at a lost as to what to buy. Mom always tells me to get something that will remind me of the trip, but then I get really scared of spending money because there have been too many times in my life that I overspent on stupid things and now I’m like weirdly paranoid about over drafting ever again. I guess that’s good? Anyway, I decide that I’m in Italy so what would be a good souvenir but food and wine right? Please someone validate me because like, I need validation to survive I think.

I found a shop that looked not too expensive called De Rossi, to look for the aforementioned food and wine. The wine was all over 10 euros and because of my idiocy I couldn’t really bring myself to buy it just yet. Pasta seems like a waste since I never really make it. But then, then I spot it. Peperoncio Piccante Tritalo, a nice little jar of it for only 4 euro 50. Joy of joys. Its a spicy spread type thing and y’all better know that I’ll use the bajeebers out of it. I’m the kid that snuck hot sauce into my theater banquet senior year of high school because I need spice in my life at all times. Germany please stop making not spicy food, you’re killing me.

So, spicy prize in hand, I head up to the register and internally debate whether to use “Ciao” or “Hiya” as a greeting.

Hiya immediately establishes me as a tourist and thus the awkwardness of them possibly assuming I speak Italian and then proceeding to speak it rapidly at me. And then, all of a sudden, their sentence ends in a high note and I realize this is my cue to answer a question, but in reality is my cuee to stare wide-eyed and slacked jawed and mumble an apologetic and uncomfortable ‘sorry?’ in a vaguely British accent so people don’t think I’m American. Okay, side note this is a thing I’ve actually taken to adopting especially around really obnoxious Americans so as not to associate with them…

OR, I could look like I’m at least somewhat attempting to try and blend in. Of course I end up going with a very shy “Ciao” and the woman smiles and immediately says too many things in Italian and looks at me expectantly. I can’t for the LIFE of me remember what ‘I’m Sorry” in Italian is until 5 minute after I leave the shop, even though I have it written down in my notebook with other ‘useful’ phrases. So I do my ‘sorry’ and an embarrassed smile and she says kindly to me

“Anything else?”
“No, Grazie”

I pay the price and head off into the streets with my spicy goodness in hand.

I glance down at my phone to check the direction for this hidden Cafe place and realize that I had passed the street this supposed place was on. I get to the street indicated by Apple Maps and I realize I had definitely been on this road before and no FREAKING CAFE WAS ON IT. In this moment, all hope was lost from my being, and my stomach roared up and hunger quickly filled the void where hope had once been.

I am a new woman on a mission, to find literally any food at whatever price from some side vendor or something. Nothing sit down, something immediate…and NOT a döner because I did not come all the way to Italy to eat something I eat once a week at home. I finally found a pizza wrap at a stand for 4 euro, it was a little shit but I didn’t give a single frick at this point because oh my God food.

Finally satiated, sort of, I declare to myself that it is time for the Teatro Roman and the Piazzale for history and beautiful views of the city. The other benefit of exploring a city before really doing anything beforehand is that I sort of knew how to get everywhere and saved a butt-load of time. The bridge from one side of town to the other is absolutely beautiful.  There’s an old tower on it, which a woman was putting out and tending her plants. It’s a sign of beauty and the ingenuity of humanity to not tear down the old and simply be done with it. But instead to reutilize it, reimagine what it could be. Ugh not time to wax on about it, but Europe is great at doing that.

As I was walking across the bridge, I saw two women taking photos of each other. I stopped so as not to accidentally step in one of their pictures, when one of the ladies turns to me and asks in what I am assuming is an Eastern European accent.

“Do you speak English?”
“Si..” I reply for some reason in Italian.

Relief washes over her face. My assumption that she is going to request that I take her and her companions photo evaporates. Instead, she pulls out what looks like either a print out of and mail or a website and nearly implores me if I know where this particular spot is. Hoping its a place I’ve already been, I glance down.

“Um…no…sorry.”
“Not even which side of the river? This side? THAT side??” I hear a note of desperation in her voice that I am all too familiar with. Its just the tone my inner voice gets when I’ve been searching for 45 minutes for a hotel/hostel/apartment/whatever and keep walking in circles.

“Tourist” I say, gesture to myself with a smile to her that I hope conveys my sympathy and hope for them. “I’m sorry’

She kind of laughs and shakes her head as she folds up the paper and puts it back away. I guess maybe I don’t look so touristy after all? Though I’d have thought my near corpse like coloring would have been a give away of my non-native status to Italy.

Loki and I have very similar complexions.

I hurry away from the bridge and walk briskly towards what looks like ruins. The key to traveling is to walk with purpose and assurance and then no one bothers you or attempts to mug you. Also being in broad day light helps.

The ruins I had seen were the Teatro Romano, which I was really excited to see. I remembered seeing another Ancient Theater in Sicily when I’d gone with my mom and little brothers 5 years earlier, and I still find them as amazing now as I did then.

The entrance fee was blotted out and replaced with one euro for everyone. This is never a good sign. But since it was only a euro, I couldn’t pass it up and went in. After the apathetic attendant handed me my ticket, and an even more apathetic attendant tore it, I entered the Theater. Honestly, it wasn’t that great, but for a one euro entrance fee, worth it. It’s used still to this day, and the stage was set up. No lights or sets or anything like that, but the actual stage was there, they don’t perform on the stone stage from years past. The season had just finished, I think. I had tried to find tickets to performances before I came, but the middle of the week in September is not the best time to do some things apparently.

All the World’s a Stage u feel me

I head up the stairs and spot a church, but of course it’s closed. I then try to find the museum but that too is ‘no apereto.’ Suddenly, the price change makes sense. Nothing is open.

Church on the far left. Scaffolding right in the middle.

I do manage to get up pretty high with a good view of the city. I yell out ‘Escusie?” to a woman I had three seconds ago and had exchanged smiles with.

“Um, un photo por favor?” I had realized she spoke Spanish and attempted a few more phrases.

“De Donde estàs? Where are you from?” She asked eagerly.
“America” I reply with a shrug, she laughs and says a few things in Spanish.
“El Teatro?”
“No, no la cuidad, bitte…por favor.” She takes several and hands me back my phone.
“Bien fotos? Good?”
“perfect, gracias. Grazie? Gracias” People really can be kind at times.

Me and the Cuidad

I spot just a few feet over concrete steps that go up even higher, but there was no way  to reach them from inside the Teatro. I kind of figured it was the steps up to the Piazzale, and I was pretty done with the Teatro at that point, so I just left. About half way up the stairs and decide to take a break because I’m so dehydrated, disgustingly out of shape, sweaty, oh and also the view was mad stunning.

I journaled there for a bit, because it makes writing this blog so much easier. I’m basically just transcribing it at the moment. Is that the right word? Ugh I don’t even care anymore, that’s the word I’m using. There’s also though a sense of joy in the physical document to look back on when I’m older or to show my kids, if I ever even have any. More like I’ll show it to my nieces, nephews, and Rebeca’s kids.

After 20 minutes or so I headed on up to the actual piazzale, and oh my god I haven’t sweated so much in months. After 3 months in the Alps in Bavaria where 75 is unusually warm, the Italian weather and sun were both welcomed eagerly and dreaded.

The internet had not lied to me, the view was nothing less than spectacular up there. If I lived in Verona I’d go up there all the time. I took off my shoes, and let my feet breathe because I somehow managed to forget to bring SOCKS WITH ME, so I was stuck in flats the entire time. This led to some sore, gross smelling feet.

After taking in the view and writing until my hand could no longer take it because I’m weak, I walked over the piazzale and took what I assumed was the scenic, less strenuous route back to the city. Before I had left the side of the river to head to the theater area, I had stopped in the Duomo. Seeing that it cost 4 euros just to enter, I asked if they had mass that evening. 6:30? Lovely. I’d get to see it for free, also, like, mass in the Duomo of Verona? Plz.

Shown: My Soulmate telling you how excited I was.

My stroll down from the Piazzale was gorgeous and so easy. I ended up where I could guess where to go, and surprise i was RIGHT.

Am I using too many gifs? I might be using too many gifs.

This never happens to me ever ever because I am so utterly terrible at directions. Maybe I’m getting better? Hahahhahaha no. No. absurd.

I head into town since I still have a few hours left until Church. I decided to head down a street I hadn’t been on yet, or thought I hadn’t. I end up passing a building that says its the museum for the Opera. The courtyard was huge and bright with a ginormous rose in the far corner. I start inspecting a sign about upcoming exhibits when I hear running behind me. I turn to see a woman about my age who stops suddenly at the site of me, and we both smile as she continues on briskly. She stops again and turns to me and says something in Italian.

“Sorry?” I say, gesturing vaguely with my hands as if to say “I speak hand Italian but not verbal Italian.”
“Do you English?…Obviously you do. There is a FREE concert inside if you want. Eh…saxo? [here she gestures with her hands miming a saxophone, I nod with understanding] e un…piano. It is FREE, but only if you want…”
“Perfect” I say, never one to pass up music, especially free music in the heart of Italy, as earlier that day had proven. The room I’m led into has huge ceilings, and a gorgeous painting in the background. About 40 chairs are set up, but only about 15 of them are filled.

Oh no.

The musicians arrive 15 minutes late, and after a short intro, all in Italian, none of which I understand, they begin. The saxophone and piano are nowhere near a perfect match for each other. It didn’t help that the composer seemed to think it best if the instruments only sometimes played melodies that made sense together. Within 5 minutes an older couple had already left. I knew it was only going to be about 30 minutes tops so I decided to stick it out…Honestly it wasn’t completely terrible, just not…you know..my favorite. I stayed but was relieved when it was finally finished, and the 5 of us remaining could finally leave.

Beautiful room though, right?

I quickly left the museum area and continue back down to Erbe, when I found another courtyard with some random sculpture installations. There were only about 7 of them, but it was interesting enough.

This was my favorite piece and I cannot tell you why

As I’m heading really back into the center of town, I realize I did that thing again where I’m about ready to faint from not eating. I really really need to start remembering to do that thing. Is there an app I could use? That might be helpful. But actually, walking was hard, I was shaking, and everything kind of hurt. I didn’t want to eat a whole meal since I had church in 45 minutes and I had a place all picked out for dinner. I desperately start attempting to walk more quickly if I physically can. All I can find are fancy sit-down places or gelaterias. None of which will do for the moment. I nearly run into a coffee shop when I see it, remembering not to sit down since that automatically costs more (thanks Mom from 8 years ago). I get to the counter and croak out “un espresso per favore…e un croissant’
“Si, you take” the woman gestures. I eat and drink both in approximately 1.5 minutes, hand over the money, and hope to God that the energy and carbs kick in soon so I don’t faint in the streets of Verona…all alone. Out of more desperation I turn to a cake shop I had seen earlier, thinking maybe a sugar rush would be just the thing.

I really don’t know much about diets or nutrition. She hands me the wrong cake but I’m too awkward to address the situation, just hand over exact change and leave as quickly as possible. Thankfully by the time I get outside my body is feeling better and the instinct to scarf down the cake in an unattractive manner has subsided.

I stop in a shop and pick up some salami pic anti, telling myself that I needed protein, and promptly ate a slice. I had bought it thinking of it as another souvenir, but like, meat doesn’t last that long and it wouldn’t be as great when I left, so like, ALL FOR ME NOW. I am not a patient woman I think.

I get to the church way earlier than I thought I would. I kind of just stood outside for a bit, pulled out my phone to make it look like I was waiting for someone because that’s what we do in these modern times. I thought that maybe they would still be charging people right up until when mass started. So I waited…and waited, and then got so bored and cold that I gathered the courage to open the door and prepare to assert myself as a devout Catholic to the attendant and gosh darn it you can charge me to pray!

There was no attendant.

There was however praying. “Oh Shit” I whisper as I set foot into the sacred church.

Sorry Jesus.

Had mass already started? Did I mishear her earlier? Or just remember incorrectly as is my usual case? Whatever its just 10 minutes in, I’ll just sit. Except when I go to sit I realize very few lights are on, there is no priest, no alter servers, and the disembodied voice keeps saying the same thing over and over again.

The Rosary, it dawns on me, is what’s going on. I got this, I’ve been doing it for years. Except that the prayers at the end of the decades I can never remember, also I am apparently incapable of counting to 10 consistently and well. So I only sort of had it. Also saying prayers out loud in my usual carrying, projecting (or loud and slightly nasally according to Mom) English is a bit awkward and seems almost attention getting. So I mumbled quietly to myself.

Mass began, I understood the vast majority of it. Though ask me what the readings were about, and I would not be able to tell you. Ah well. I just kind of sat and soaked it all in. The old deacon and the even older priest preaching to the smallish group of I believe mainly locals. Two young Asian nuns by themselves at the end of a pew, besides me clearly the youngest people there.

A conversation I had been a part of a few weeks beforehand went through my head. How back home churches aren’t really a thing like they are here. Yes we have beautiful ones, but we also have ugly mesa churches, and churches that are in warehouses. Going home will be weird since all of us have ‘been in some of the most beautiful churches in the world.’ To quote a co-worker.

Mass ended, I explored the church, lit a candle for Mike as I always do, and finally left to find this restaurant.

Really it was absolutely gorgeous.

I quickly got completely turned around as always since I am the least proficient when it comes to map reading.

Buster and I should travel together.

I finally find the restaurant, but it doesn’t open until 7:30 because this is Italy. I had 8 minutes to just kind of stroll around and get hungrier I guess.  I’m sure they would have sat me anyway, but I have a deep seated phobia of being the rude tourist when traveling. So I happened upon another place. “Vini and Cucina el Luciano” I think, and their menu looked amazing. Pretty cheap, entrees for only around 8 euros, but I had set my heart on this other place…kind of. I went back to the other one to look at the menu, it was pricier and all pasta. I don’t…really like pasta all that much. It’s so heavy, its like why I don’t like American breakfasts.

I purposefully stride to the other place, and without any fear approach the waiter and sat by myself in the restaurant while I journaled. At this point I’d like to point out that this was a big deal for me. I lived in California alone last summer and could never get myself to go to a proper restaurant to eat by myself. I guess I thought people would judge me? Pity me? I can stand nothing less than Pity. Though the thing is, I’ve worked in food and bev for long enough that I know no one cares at all…

Sometimes you get very obvious reminders you are an American though. Eating ALL ALONE Y’ALL

But I sit alone, happy and content. Order half a liter of wine, and the roast rabbit. I’d never had it before and I don’t know why because holy crap that animal is mad mad delicious. It was falling right off the bone, and the veggies oils and polenta were all divine. Also I”m pretty sure a key component of Italian dining is that halfway through you’re wasted and you’re suddenly drunk eating. Whatever it was, it was amazing and I tried really hard to do the European thing of a long dinner. I made it last over an hour. I think I learned to actually savor food and not just shove it down my throat for practical purposes.

TOO GOOD

I was very nearly done with my food when my waiter came around and attempted to take my plate away. I don’t know if I was drunk, or just in love with the food, but I quickly say over-enthusiastically  “no no no no no no”

“….no?” replies the waiter, shocked that this obvious tourist, this American was taking so long. By this point two other tables had arrived, so maybe he was hoping/praying that I’d leave before it got too busy. I hope I didn’t offend him, because when he did come back after I was thoroughly done with food and all my wine, he came back over.
“Termina?” he asked almost fearfully and perplexed. I actually don’t remember the word he used but he gestured with his hands to indicate ‘done’

Me in my drunken state nodded and attempted vainly to remember the phrase for ‘delicious’ when all I could think of was ‘rico’ which is Spanish. I then tried to remember what ‘finish’ is in Italian but it slipped my mind completely and the waiter stood confused and worried for me as I physicalized these Olympic Level mind exercises.

“la…la cuenta?” the waiter asked both hopefully and helpfully.

“…si…per favore” he smiles as he hands me the check. Whether it was a genuine one or one all waiters have for guests that are vaguely annoying, I’ll never know. I’d like to believe its the former, namely because I didn’t cause any problems during my meal. In my tipsy giddiness I giggle down the via duomo, ecstatic at the food, the wine, and the mere fact that I’m in FREAKING VERONA ITALY. Alone and happy and free. I’m actually doing it, the whole living abroad thing. I’m not scared to travel alone, I’m not spending all my time on base like I kind of feared I would in the back of my mind.

Back at the Piazza Erbe, I pull out my cake from earlier which has definitely collapsed, but is still so edible. I enjoy the Piazza, and head back home. Happy, full, and exhausted.

I was alone for 4 days and I didn’t go entirely insane: Day 1

Tags

italy, juliet, romeo, romeo and juliet, travel, verona

So I know I haven’t posted in forever, for many reasons. One my main computer has about 10 keys that don’t work, and two that said computer finally died on me entirely. I am currently on one of the computers in the hotel reserved for guests, and I have never felt more rebellious except for one time in high school when I pretended that I had to help out the theater teacher, but actually we played hide and seek in the theater for like 2 hours. I have had a very mild life.

I’ll probably eventually write a post about Salzburg and Prague, but mainly I’m writing this to inform my family and friends, especially Dad, that I am not in fact dead in a ditch somewhere with a maß of beer in each hand, as of yet. Though Fest starts next week, so I’m not holding my breath out on this one.

Okay so the trip and no more of my rambling preamble. I left Edelweiss at around 8 to catch my bus at 9 to catch my train at 11 in Innsbruck. At first I was peeved at myself for not getting a later bus because sleep, but thank God Dad instilled a fear in me of missing connections, and I’ve missed enough in my life to know you need ample time. I’m sitting on the bus in Garmisch, and the bus still isn’t moving 10 minutes after arriving late anyway. Now this is Germany, if anything is 5 minutes late I begin to worry that the bus probably blew up or something along those lines. The bus driver makes an announcement, in German, and I sit in silent innocence, sure that if something were very serious someone would come up to me and ask me why the Hell I was still sitting there. At the end of the announcement half the bus gets up, exits, and promptly lights up. I have never felt more like I was in Europe until that moment. We ended up being about half an hour late, but I was good and fine and made my train in plenty of time.

Except when I got to the bus I got so confused. I am not used to actual compartments on trains, I thought that was some Harry Potter Shenanigans that these Continental folks took no part in. I get on the train and am so confused by the labels and the seat assignments. I stop by one that only has a few old Italian women in it. “Um…taken?” “Si” “I can’t sit here?” “no…No…” and she stares me down as I silently close the doors and stumble away hoping to never see that woman again. I finally find a compartment with one lone early teenage years girl. She is safe, probably speaks English, and will not speak to me again as soon as I’ve asked a few questions because I’ve been that girl before. She quickly tells me with a timid smile that the seats are reserved for the most part, but you can sit wherever and someone might just kick you out. I thank her smile, and promptly pass out for the first 2 hours of the train ride. Missing beautiful scenery I’m assuming, but I’d been up for 19 hours the day before and was exhausted so like, sleep.

Except less cozy, on a train, and me trying really hard not to flash anyone in my skirt.

I get to the Verona train station, much like any other European train station I’ve been to, and realize very quickly that I have no idea which way to go. I do the thing I always do which is assume i’ll figure it out when I get there. I had directions from google maps up and everything and yet I am incapable of following thing. Out of desperation, and just not even carrying anymore I just went to a taxi and asked him to take me. Who am I anymore? I don’t even like using public transportation when I get to a city let alone a TAXI. I knew immediately this dude was swindling me. Totally went the wrong way, turned around, didn’t listen to me when I said he could stop, ended up charging me 9 euro. I just gave him money and ran, and learned a valuable lesson in the end.

I will forever hate taxi drivers and if a child of mine decides to become one…I’ll openly support him but probably quietly resent him or her until my death bed in which case I’ll reveal it ominously.

The apartment I’m renting I found on airbnb, I couldn’t find any hostels for just singles, I had to rent out the entire room? I don’t know, maybe I’m just terrible at looking things up, which honestly I am. Unless its a gif, I’m hella talented at that. (Future employers, do you read this? Please don’t this blog is vaguely embarrassing at times). We get to the Apartment and Vanessa informs me that her English is “so-so”

“I speak Spanish. Do you?”
“…So-So.”
“Italian?”
“Less so so.”

She’s from the Dominican Republic originally (which explains her flawless and perfect hair) and married an Italian man 4 years ago. She showed me all around the apartment, of which I had all to myself. So happy. We ended up chatting for a big, and I think she appreciated my attempts to speak my limited Spanish vocabulary to her. She had asked my age and after a full 30 seconds of hard thinking to remember 22 in Spanish I finally told her, after she repeated herself 3 times. She smiled and laughed and told me I’m very young and to study Italian and Spanish. Dear everyone in Europe, I’m sorry I cannot learn every single one of your languages. But gosh darn it I’ll try.

Guys I can barely get by in English, I don’t even understand me half the time. You’re asking a lot.

After getting settled in, aka setting up the Wi-Fi on my phone, I decided to do the thing I always do in a new place which is explore until my body can no longer handle it and I must sleep. I had actually researched the Piazza I wanted to go to, and knew it was a straight shot from my apartment, about 30 minutes away. I was als determined to find this cafe I’d read about in The Guardian that was cheap, good, and ‘hip.’ Because I too am a hip lady, and enjoy being with other young hip people. Or maybe i’m hoping they’ll rub off on me and I will no longer say things like ‘hip’.

Verona, is gorgeous. It’s so interesting coming to Europe from America but there everything is so new, and here everything is old and new. The modern shops are wedged in the remains of the old, not fighting each other, but forming one cohesive image. The tourists mingling freely with the locals. I kind of window shop but never for too long because that crap is expensive for a lady that buys almost all her clothes from Ebay. Suddenly the street opens up, and where am I but the Piazza.

It’s clearly very touristy, there are stalls filled with cheap souvenirs, including Venetian masks. I guess to each poser their own. But still so lovely, the Piazza. I wandered around attempting to find this Cafe (Caffe Turbino) and going down ever side street I could find. I ended up in the Dante Piazza and it was gorgeous, too. Is that going to be my word of the post? Gorgeous, ugh probably.

me and my babe Dante

I ended up finding several Doner and Kebab places but resisted buying them, because i’m in ITALY and I can get them back HOME, even if they are utterly delicious. After probably half an hour of searching I gave up looking for the Cafe and decided to look it up again once I got back to the apartment, and decided to find food….any food. I’d only had a bag of trail mix and one granola bar all day. No water or coffee either. I had meant to bring a big bottle but in my excitement forgot it. (That is my way of saying i did not pack thoroughly the night before and thus suffered the consequences). I looked at the restaurants on the Piazza but obviously they were too expensive and too touristy and already packed. I almost decided to just head back to the area where my apartment was when I noticed a street I hadn’t fully explored yet. As I’m walking I observed that a lot of people were taking pictures of a wall. This wall.

Oh.

If you didn’t realize, Verona is where Romeo and Juliet takes place and they have the supposed house of Juliet as like a Mecca for people? I don’t know. I hadn’t had any real desire to see it. Partly because Romeo and Juliet is nowhere near my favorite Shakespeare play, but also because I’d heard it was definitely a tourist trap that probably didn’t have any real connection to the people the characters are based on. But, since I was right there, I couldn’t just walk on by. Before the house there’s an arched area which probably at this point, hundreds of thousands of people have written some way or another their name with their significant others and placed it on the wall. The most common form i son a band-aid actually. I don’t know how it started but I kind of love it. Trying to fix the broken love? Probably someone just had one handy and you can’t write on the walls anymore. Of course I decide I need to contribute, and with no band-aids on hand, but a notebook I rip a page out and write mine and my best-friends name on it.

It’s been really weird not rooming with her for basically the past 6 months, especially now that school has started. I hoped it’d make her laugh, I’ll probably actually end up printing this out and putting it in the photo album I’ve started. Which if you know me, keeping things and having something of sentimental value is a very new thing. When I was cleaning out my room at the end of the semester the amount of things I just tossed was absurd.

I do not like sentimentality y’all.

I also put a note up for my friend Miles and Shakespeare since he loves Romeo and Juliet, and because he’ll basically be studying at The Globe for the next year. That lucky lucky man.

I entered the courtyard and took an obligatory pic of the ‘baclony’

I actually did have fun.

read some of the things outside the house but didn’t actually go in. I had heard it wasn’t worth the money. Also everyone poses with the Juliet statue by grabbing her chest?

He doesn’t even look happy about it. Y’all be cray.

I left desperate to some sort of sustenance to enter into my body. I passed by a place with some amazing ravioli, and didn’t even care about the price at that point. After awkwardly waiting for 3 minutes, I attempted to grab the waitress’ attention…

“Eh..escuse? What…what do I do?” (I knew about 2 words in Italian at this point. I’m pathetic I know)

“What?”
“Do..Do I sit or…table service?”

Desperately wishing I’d looked up more Italian phrases.

“You are alone?”

“Ja, i mean…si”
“Okay”
“Danke, shit, grazie”

Somehow I manage to mess up my 3 words of Italian I know with my 3 words of German.

I eat and drink, and it’s really honestly quite good. But I was so hungry at that point that one I think I was drunk off of one wine glass, and two any food would have tasted delicious at that point.

As I was paying, my waitress smiled at me for the first time, and I could see the amusement in her eyes that I’ve learned to recognize in people’s eyes when I travel as I attempt to pathetically speak their language.

“I like your hate. It’s nice!”
“Oh! Grazie” I giggle back like a small child. This is not the 1st time an Italian has complimented my hat. The first was when I was 17 in Little Italy in New York and I reacted the same then as now. I honestly have not matured much in the past 6 years.

“How do you say good night in Italian?” I ask shyly. After a moment’s thought, she responds and I attempt to repeat it back to her and the three other people behind the counter. They all smile at my clearly painful American accent and with one final “Ciao!” (I may have been pushing it at this point) I left to continue my Verona night walk.

I head down the street that was parallel to the one I had gone down before. The ground wasn’t cobblestone like the other street, but marble I suppose but it was a proper pedestrian area. The shops were incredibly expensive, more so than the other street. I never stay for long looking at the stores or ever go in, I think I’m scared of having a “Selena” moment. You know the scene I mean. Regardless I keep walking and the road opens up once more and I’m right next to the Arena, where huge extravagant operas take place during the summer months.

I missed it by 2 days. I have terrible terrible timing.

If I hadn’t been so exhausted I would have loved to explore more of the Piazza surrounding the Arena but I figured I’d save that for another day. I figure out finally where exactly I am (the joy of aimless walking) and suddenly remembered the man I’d seen in the restaurant and his charger for his computer. Specifically, how his charger looked nothing like my charger for my phone and how I didn’t even THINK about whether Germany and Italy use difference chargers, and my phone is on 4% and I have 3 more days in Italy. I have no idea where to buy a converter and start mentally going through every place I’d passed and wondering if they’d have any converters. Nothing in any of the tourist shops, drug stores, etc. Maybe I have to go the train station?? But I need my phone to figure out where the HELL that damn place is anyway.

I enter the apartment after struggling with all the keys and doors and frantically began opening drawers to find one and low and behold THERE IS ONE. Phone charging, wine poured, I go on the porch and soak in the Italian air as I study for the LSAT. And surprisingly, I cannot remember a time I have been more relaxed.

I went to Austria and only offended one Person.

Tags

alps, austria, cathedral, catholic, innsbruck, Innsbruck Austria, tyrol

Its actually been like a week now since I went to Innsbruck, but I’ve been so busy been unable to write about it until now.

Innsbruck Austria is only an hour bus ride from me, so I decided on my next day off I’d try and go ahead and go there. I booked my bus ticket almost a week in advance, I may be overeager to begin traveling. I mean, that’s why I’m here. Plus, the bus ticket was 10 Euro roundtrip, how could I resist? I really like traveling alone, I like exploring a city by myself, also I planned on going to mass there and I don’t think anyone’d like to do that too…

Innsbruck has a really cool Baroque Cathedral there, so I was p excited to go because, I mean, yo Jesus time, but also I read about how cool and beautiful it was. This is Europe, the churches tend to be beautiful and they somehow escaped the atrocity that is all the Churches built in the 60s in America.

My bus left at 9, so I woke up pretty early because I decided to walk instead of taxi-ing, or trying to figure out the bus system because my experiences in Edinburgh last summer taught me that I am incapable of quickly grasping simple concepts regarding public transportation, and I have a fear of missing important travel steps because of misunderstandings and relying on others to transport me places. Unfortunately…I really had no idea how to get there. I stood in line of the front desk of the hotel to ask someone where to go. Could I be anymore of a new kid? Eh, better to ask and know than wander around aimlessly because of pride. And trust me…I’ve done the latter. I have a thing about not looking like a tourist ever and just walking determined in one direction for 15 minutes, finding wi-fi and then pretend to be texting on my phone and am really desperately attempting to figure out here on God’s Green and Blue globe where I am…In my head it prevents pick-pockets.

Its almost a straight line from the hotel to the bus station. I had a vague sense of where it was, next to the train station, because after my hike through the Partnach gorge we had walked by it. But I got to the train station and realized I had no concept of where to go from there. But a lady in the train station was very nice and walked me the thirty entire seconds further down the street to the bus stop. A lot of other people were waiting for the bus, so I just kind of stood around for a bit when a bus pulled in. No one else got on board, and I kind of just stared at it and though maybe its not the right bus. I mean yes, admittedly, its at the right bus station platform, and yes also its here at the right time to go to Innsbruck but….probably not right. And then I heard someone say “Innsbruck” after the bus doors closed and I panicked and desperately said “Is that the bus to Innsbruck????” Hoping someone spoke English there and everyone said yes, but not the one to Munich. I guess everyone was planning on going to Munich and they stared in bemusement at the VERY American girl banging on the closed bus doors, hoping they’d part for her. The bus driver looked up, I asked pathetically if this was the bus to Innsbruck, apparently he had a list of passengers and let me on board.  I didn’t miss the bus, the very clearly labeled bus, small victories and steps.

Mom had sent me a a couple of sites to help me figure out things to do. I hate having a very structured plan traveling, but I also hate just arriving and not having a clue as to what to do with my time. And considering I had about 9 hours in the city, I thought it’d be best to have a vague plan.

I had about an hour and a half until mass, so I had decided to head off to a cafe that I had read about. I decided to mosey over to it, and of course promptly got lost. I looked it up on google maps, had taken photos of the map and everything. I started heading a way I thought seemed right even though everyone else was heading a different way (my go to for figuring out a city). Ran across this shop

Because obviously you need a bit of London even in Austria

got confused but kept on going. I eventually turned a down a street and saw the Triumphal Arch!

Gorgeous, innit?

I knew I was going to Old Town, so it made sense that this would then lead to it. An old monument…around old things….But then I second guessed myself, because the street names didn’t exactly match the google maps one and I didn’t head south at the beginning like the map told me to…and also…I think I might be a complete idiot. I don’t know, its just a theory. But all the anecdotal evidence thus far points to this one clear indication. I ended up going into the middle of the industrial part. I finally looked more closely at the map, realized I’d been right at the beginning, got so frustrated I took my jacket off (everyone says this area of the world is pretty conservative and I’m not trying to attract unwanted attention, I strive to blend in completely)

David Mitchell continues to be my spirit animal in all situations.

After arriving 15 minutes later than I’d have liked, because the entire ‘no eating an hour before Church’ rule, I finally go to Cafe Munding. Its pretty old, and apparently has amazing pastries. I arrive, pleased that I had walked with confidence and didn’t look too touristy, and then got really confused as to how everything works. Here in Europe, I’ve noticed, you don’t wait for someone to seat you, you just go and sit and hope someone notices you eventually. But the pastries were inside, so I decided to just bite the bullet and go in and actually have to speak to someone.

As I entered I was transfixed by the pastries. I don’t really have that big of a sweet tooth, I love cheese more than most desserts…obviously. But these pastries? Beautiful, beautiful. Also I was starving. I’m soooo much hungrier here than I usually am back home. It might be the actually working for 8 hours a day thing on my feet, instead of sitting on a computer looking up articles on Jstor for hours on end.

One of the ladies started speaking to me…in German. I distorted my face in half an apologetic smile and half a look of trepidation at having to try understand another language, and said, using my hands too much and half shrugging. “I only speak English?” It came out half imploring her to know English, or if she didn’t to please learn in 3 seconds because that’d be some excellent Customer service.

I have read in many books about a ‘withering look’ but have never seen one in person…until this lady. “I speak English” she said condescendingly. At that moment I instantly remembered someone telling me in my first week to NEVER ask if someone speaks English around here, because they usually do and take it as an offense that you’d ask such a question. Of course they speak English, everyone does…or most everyone. I sighed a huge relief even with the embarrassment welled up in me, just happy she could speak English. I asked her to explain all the cakes to me and how everything worked at the cafe. I ended up getting a caramel mousse cake with apples and a coffee. Holy schnitzel, it was delicious as alllllll get outttt. Perfect with coffee, and that coffee….Oh my God, so good. After the crap coffee I’ve been forced to endure at work, it was the happiest moment in awhile, let me tell you

I headed off to Church, which of course I understood none of, but I love going to Church in foreign countries. Mass is the same all over, one of the perks of being Catholic. I prayed and was in awe over this Church.

Alter

Ceilinggggg

I think this is a seat for the powerful and important if they come to Church? I don’t know….

I felt a little odd taking pictures in a Church with people praying but like Mom does it, so I feel okay about it. After mass I decided to go ahead and find some of the museums.

The Golden Roof was my first stop. Mainly because I had passed it earlier (its kind of a centerpiece of Innsbruck) and wouldn’t have to struggle to find it. Innsbruck is so pretty, and the buildings so colorful, and Europe really knows how to do a pedestrian area. Its so nice to just go about a part of town and not worry about cars or pollution, and just BE and enjoy. I ended up being the only one in the museum, which is nice, really. Not having to move out of anyone’s way, or try and read around them, etc. Basically, Maximilian I was super into supporting the arts, and Innsbruck used to be the center of his empire, so he built this one part of the roof with golden shingles. Interesting to learn about that time period, things going on, etc. It was a pretty small museum, but I feel like I learned….

I then tried off to find lunch and found schnitzel for less than three euro, and its like 8 euro here in Garmisch. Lesson learned, Garmisch is a tourist place through and through.

The next museum I went to was the Hofburg, an old Imperial palace. The guy asked me if was a student and for a brief moment I felt a sense of triumph because guess who brought their student ID card with NO expiration date to Europe for this very purpose. Okay do you know? Now please try and guess which person then left it behind in Germany….

“Um..yeah..I am..but I forgot my card…”
“You are student, its fine. 7 Euro.’ Cue me blessing the rains and thanking the Lord above.

‘Do you want a walking guide with you?’ The man continued. ‘Only need a piece of identification as a deposit’

Thats it? Great! Except I hadn’t brought my passport because people said I didn’t need it and only had my military ID. I was not about to risk losing that…not after all the anti-terrorist talks we got during orientation.

“uh…no…um I’ll…be okay I guess?”
“…Really? Are…are you sure?”
“Ye…yeah. I’m good thank you.”

I then hoped that the museum had English translations of everything….

My ticket bought me entrance to two parts of the museum. There was a part about Alpine tourism and mountain climbing and their rise in popularity as leisure activities starting in around the 1800s. The other part was the actual Palace. I love the Alps and mountains so I really did enjoy that section of the museum, interesting to see how its all changed. Going from a pretty dangerous activity, to a relatively safe and family friendly one these days for a lot of the mountains.

The palace though, I loved it. I love palaces, I think they’re so interesting and imagining people actually LIVING in them is usually so absurd to me. They’re just so HUGE!

Really there was too much for me to go into detail about, but needless to say it was beautiful. One of the former emperor’s bedrooms had been converted to a Chapel, and since they didn’t let me take pictures I tried to be sneaky. Being sneaky is not my forte…

empress of selfies

My favorite place was the ballroom, and I’m not going to lie, I waltzed a little bit around it by myself. I did more later around the living quarters too, down a hallway. It just felt…right…and appropriate.

After a couple hours there I headed out and decided that I needed more food because I am a bottomless pit, and found gelato. Picked the Apple one because I couldn’t pronounce anything else, and had had Mango the other day. Really my thought processes are incredibly mind-boggling to get a glimpse into, I understand if you need a moment to take it all in.

Have a picture of gelato and the Golden Roof as you process it all

I then found a park, read there for a bit and decided that since I had a bit more until I had to go and catch my bus, to try and figure out something else to do besides sitting around. I decided against trying to find the Alpine Zoo, since I didn’t know how long it’d take to get there and enjoy it all, so I’m saving that for another time.

Beautiful amirite?

Jesusssssss

Yeah its unreal

Colorful u feel me

And then I noticed a steeple not too far in the distance. A thing you should know about my family…I travel a lot with my Mom, and Mom and my step-dad always took me to Churches, or monasteries, or nunneries, or a different type of Catholic Mass, etc. That is our thing. I have been trained to seek out religious places and explore. And here in Europe, its usually a good bet that they have a crap ton of history and are really really interesting.

And I did! I climbed several steep hills to get there.

Memorial

Outside of it

I took a gander inside and it was p interesting. They had these lifelike statues that i’ve seen in Europe before that Mom loves but they terrify me. I’m half convinced they are about to come alive and…I don’t kno… hang out politely? But still. A lil terrifying.

I saw another steeple in the not too far distance and ended up going there since I still had an hour until I needed to get back. After almost going into someone’s private yard, I made it up. It seemed kind of abandoned. I couldn’t get in to any of the doors, but the view from there, totally worth the feeling that I was near a haunted Church.

I looked at the time and decided to find a quick cheap place to eat. I finally had a Doner like thing, and I was so happy about it. Ate it near the river, then found a bar to watch part of the world cup at. Here in Europe i keep seeing public viewing spots. Chairs outside, tv set up, people wandering in and out. Its so nice. I wish America would adopt this for big games, so much nicer than being in a crowded bar near people I don’t know at all, and making sure that no creepy old dude is trying to touch me.

I eventually made it home, safe and alive. I walked back again. Thank God for my parents instilling in me early to just walk everywhere and anywhere at any time at all if possible. Its cheaper and you see so much more.

I can’t believe that I didn’t ever get super lost, only offended one person. Maybe I’ll survive these next 15 months relatively problem free.

Hahahahaa I’m so funny. Do you see that joke I wrote? Go me. Go me and my hilarious wit.

The Hills are On Fire

Tags

austria, fires, mountains, sacred heart, summer solstice, tirola

Every year on the summer solstice, there are fires on the mountains of the Alps. Okay, wait…let me rephrase that. I mean there ARE fires on the mountains, but they’re not spontaneous from nature itself. Rather, on the summer solstice Austrians climb the Alps and arrange hay and oil in designs and light them as the sunsets. The symbols are mostly religious since the tradition started in 1796 in celebration of the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Basically the Tirol people were in a skirmish, prayed to the Sacred Heart of Jesus for protection from the French, and in honor of their oath, every year since light bonfires all over the ridges. More info here because I’m terrible at succinctly summarizing anything, as if these blog posts haven’t already informed you of that.

Hence Fire Jesus

I had heard about this when we first got here, was vaguely intrigued, and promptly forgot about it until someone posted about it on the unofficial staff Facebook page. The resort was taking a group for $10 a pop, but they had limited room. I figured there’d be no room (by this I mean I did not feel like spending more money because I’m an idiot that thinks if she doesn’t have at least $1000 in her bank account she is on the very edge of complete and utter ruin like in a 19th century novel, and may be sent off to the almshouse. Is that still a thing?) and resolved to try harder (i.e. maybe think about it again…) next year. But then life kind of forced me to take the chance to go see it and not just sit around my room all evening slowly building up rage towards the internet that works tantalizingly for 5 minutes before dying for the next half hour.

It makes me actually get up and go do things…constantly. Exhausting.

My roommate told me she had found people with a car that were going and I could come along if there was room. At 9:15 they called, still room for me, and of course I decided that I should be social for once in my life, and joined. We headed off to Austria jam packed in the car, and I sat in my seat praying for other people to talk because I had used up all of my usual go to questions at the beginning and thus sat silently in the middle seat in the back vocally oohing over the scenery since I feel like people mistake my quietness at times for aloofness, or if I’m not interesting enough no one will ever want to talk or associate with me ever ever again. I guess my secret is I’m still 4 years and have school yard concerns. Child at heart ❤

Awkwardness aside, the ride was pleasant enough as we all eased into comfortableness with each other. Three of the people in the car work at Alpine together, and Danielle has been hanging out with the Alpine people quite a lot, Got to the city and ended up parking relatively far from where the group from Edelweiss would be, but no one really minded that much e ended up in a field with a bunch of other people. None of us in the group really had an idea of here to go, but we all adopted a technique that had become very familiar to me since landing in Munich, just kind of…follow everyone else. One day it may fail me, lead me to some sort of mass bank robbery or something, but it has been a really good direction technique for a bit.

Like all over this area, very adorable lil place they’ve got here

 

Sitting on a blanket with 4 other people I had no idea existed a month ago, drinking wine, and surrounded by the Alps on fire as a little surreal to say the least.

pretty pretty

All the fire, all those people.

Alps and FIRE

 

Basically the fires are usually religiously affiliated, since this particular tradition began as a tribute for religious reasons (though the bonfires on the mountain thing has been going on for ages) but we saw a Bambi one, so, maybe not too religious these days. Preparations take about a week, and its a complicated process involving rope, oil, hay and CLIMBING A FREAKING MOUNTAIN. They all stay and party though, so definitely worth it….I guess. Also MONKS HUNG OUT. Yooooo. My people.

I felt v sneaky taking this. Also v invasive.

The lightings started around 9:45 and people began to leave around 10:30. My group decided to stay longer, letting the traffic calm itself before leaving. Ended up chatting to a British foursome, a middle aged couple (very drunk) and their walking guides (not drunk but asking us, with a hint of desperation in their voices if there was anywhere in Garmisch and around there to drink and see young people. They had been there for 6 weeks already and are here until the end of the summer season giving walking tours to English speakers, desperate for something to do. As beautiful as Bavaria is, I’m sure it can get dull regarding nightlife. It is no Berlin). I instantly replied Peaches on Tuesday nights, and they might actually show up.

Oh, and remember that time I said we hoped to avoid traffic by leaving half an hour after everyone else? Yeah, because of a closed lane and the accompanying traffic life, it took us ell over an hour and a half to get home. Its like half an hour max usually. On the plus side I saw a lot of cows. I’m so nature-y these days. But not so nature-y as to pee with everyone else in a field on the side of the road. I thank Mother and her refusal to every stop on road trips unless my bladder was soon to burst and might have killed me, over the many trips we have taken for this. I can not pee for about 14 hours if necessary. Its a blessing, and I like to feel that I am impressive. Hence me putting this in the blog, so everyone’ll be impressed and keep reading these posts…

Got home at almost one and instantly passed out because early in the morning I left for Innsbruck, Austria! I’ll talk about it in the next post….Promise.

I took a hike: Or Completion of the Third step to becoming a full-fledge Amazonian Lady

Tags

amazonian, bavaria, germany, gorge, hiking, nature, olympics, partnach gorge, pasture, ski jump

I had Tuesday off, so a co-worker invited me to go for a hike with her and another co-worker. I have been forcing myself to accept nearly every single invitation extended to me since being here since I have this tendency to enjoy being by myself completely alone. Reading a book, coffee in hand, and a big comfy couch with a gorgeous view of the mountains is a perfect day for me, and what I tend to do in the afternoons here. A group of us had decided to go to ‘The Cure’ an Irish pub here to watch the American match in the world cup against Ghana, which didn’t even start until midnight here and everyone else decided to drink (I didn’t, German beer is supes strong and plus I wasn’t feeling to great either…). I kind of just felt that our resolve to ‘start early’ for the hike was doomed for failure before we even attempted. Brandi agreed to call me at 11. At half past noon I got a call and we agreed to leave at 2…at 2:30 we left.

The hike we were taking was to Partnach Gorge, only a couple of minutes away by bus and about an hour walk. It was beautiful out and we’re all poor, so the walk won out. A lot of people have done it, and it sounded great, and the walk really was beautiful. The entrance to the hike trail is right by the old skip jump from the 1936 Olympics.

I’m kind of excited to see it covered in snow

People were not joking when they told me that the hike trails here are amazing. The main ones are paved roads. It’s really nice and makes the walk that much easier. Basically the gorge is amazing and when mom and the little ones visit i’m making them come to it.

Looking up from the path to the top of the gorge

The Gorge ugh I love it.

I didn’t think I liked nature that much until this hiking trip.

So, we get to the end of the gorge itself and we decide to keep climbing up to the top, because we spent 3 euros and damn it I’m going to see as much as possible. My resolve strengthened until I saw the trail to go up and I just kind of stared and announced to Loralee and Brandi that they should “just keep going I’m going to be really far behind y’all…I haven’t exercised in a long time.” That freaking trail was basically at 60 degrees the entire time and the sign said it’d take like 25 minutes. Internally I sobbed, externally I covered my pain by grabbing my water bottle and chugging part of it.

As I struggled both to breathe and move, they hiked quickly ahead of me. I pretended to stop to take in the view and not look like I was simply trying to get my heart to move back to my chest and out of my head. It did not help my self-esteem to have small children and their elderly grandparents coming down from the top beside me with no problem. Eventually we got to the top and it was so worth it. The view of the other surrounding Alps was brilliant, the pastures and animals on top adorable, and the buildings quainter than anything back in williamsburg.

do u see this quaintness

Before I left Williamsburg, a customer at the Bakery that loved Garmisch had told me that there are always little bake shops at the top of every mountain and to look for it, and even if it looks closed, its definitely open. Next time I’ll definitely try that, but the people I was with didn’t really have any interest (or money) in going into any of them. There was this little chapel on the mountain that could have come straight out of a picture book. I took a couple pictures. There was just room enough for a couple of prayer benches and that’s it. The Altar was behind some bars, I assume to protect it from thieves and animals, but it was absolutely gorgeous religious art work. I said a quick prayer of thanks for one, the opportunity to come to Germany and live here, and another one of thanks for not letting my heart burst through my head during the trip up. I super need to workout some more or something, its pathetic. Though I found out that the young and old people that had passed us had not in fact hiked up the mountain like us, but had used the cable cars. I felt infinitely better about myself that I, in the prime of my life, am slightly more athletic and put together than elderly people and infants.

the pretty pretty chapel

After a quick lunch in the pastures on top of the Alp mountain, we decided to head back down. There were two paths in front of us, one that seemed to lead back up and the other heading down but had a sign warning that it was only for ‘experienced hikers.’ Attempting to prove that I am a capable human being to my new acquaintances, I pushed for us to at least try it and if proved to be too hard to head back. It turned out to be fine, and I’m glad we did it. It just wasn’t paved like the other ones were and was more akin to American hiking paths: rough, rocky, slippery and muddy. I lead the way, and thanks to my hiking boots (thx mom) didn’t die or slip. Turns out we were super high too, well above the gorge and oh my god i didn’t want to leave. If I ever end up being proposed to, on top of a bridge above a gorge in the middle of Bavaria is a gr8 place. Though knowing me I’d drop the ring into the gorge below and lose it for forever and then Martin Freeman’d be hella peeved (let a lady dream okay, plz don’t ruin this for me and fantasy Martin, we are very happy together).

very high up

up top looking at that gorge

After making it down, we headed over to the ski jump to utilize the water closets when Brandi and Loralee thought it’d be a great idea to climb up there too! My legs and brain did not agree with them at all, in fact they politely told me to tell them to shove off, or perhaps begin to well up and go for the pity card to go back home. But after my pathetic display before, I decided to just smile and go along. It was a struggle but I made it, gasping slowly behind them. we had to climb up stairs to get part of the way there, and then went on the road that winds up to the top and then more stairs. Its so far up and we got to see the valley below. Really stunning. Pictures taken, resting achieved, and a look at the time determines that its really time to get going back even though the sun doesn’t set until about 10 here. I told them I’d bring up the rear going down the stairs (there are in fact a set of stairs that go from the bottom to the top that we just hadn’t seen before) since I’m a bit slow and like to take my time.

Do you want to know the absolute worst time to realize you are scared of heights and especially heights on stairs? while you are very very high walking down stairs, it is a terribly inconvenient time for your body and brain to inform you that this is your biggest fear of all. I did not look up once, I started singing this in my head as I shakily gripped the railing with all the limited strength my very weak arms could muster.

My heart couldn’t figure out if it should go very fast or just stop entirely and kept alternating, and my stomach couldn’t decide if there was a pit in it or if it should just escape from my body entirely.

I then did what I do whenever I get really scared and started to say the decade of the rosary (the amount of times I did this walking home alone at 3Am in Edinburgh is quite a lot, except that time the mystical fox guided me home, I miss that fox). I had to start the “Our Father” over 3 times because I couldn’t remember how it goes because my brain wasn’t functioning really at all and unable to recall a prayer I’d known by heart since I was 4. I kept imagining me missing a step and tumbling down the approximately 150 metal stairs left and going into a coma my first week here. I’d like to save that for at least 5 months in.

I made it, obviously, and even skipped down the last couple of stairs to attempt to prove to people that I had not just been more terrified out of my mind than I can really ever remember. No one was fooled, not even the little 3 year old french girl observing me.

Our little trio then started to head home, stopped at a bar to watch the soccer game and have a quick drink, had a mojito because holy crap did I deserve it. It was good, but I still love my gin and tonics.

I survived my first venture into Bavarian Nature, amazingly. Hopefully this means i’m one step closer to becoming a real person and a real Amazonian lady that don’t take crap from no one.

Unless they trap me on something very high up that only has metal stairs leading down, in which case I am so utterly screwed.

Garmisch is more adorable than David Tennant talking about being The Doctor

Tags

bavaria, explore, garmisch, germany

The other day (sunday) I decided to go exploring into the city because I wanted to explore and process the rich history and culture around me.

I mean…also…actual German food. Especially bread and cheese because I love little else on this planet.

I knew there was a grocery store not too far, we had passed it during the driving tour in our orientation. I head out after work, not napping surprisingly, and relatively quickly find the store. Except it’s on the other side of the street and there are no crosswalks anywhere around me. No I don’t have a crippling phobia of cars nor am I incredibly snail-paced in the moving department. But Neil, the HRO told us during orientation that German’s are super judgey about people just crossing YOLO style on the streets because it sets a bad example for the kids. That makes sense I guess, so I keep going on the road, hoping and praying that I’ll see someone just decide to go across the street thus giving me societal freedom to cross and not die, or more importantly, not incur the disdain of a random German I’ll never see again in my life. Or they could have been my soul mate, I’d never know since i’d have RUINED EVERYTHING EVER.

15 minutes later i find a place to legally cross…and i’m in the middle of town. so you know, i just decided not to let the world know that I messed up and walked around the downtown a bit. This place is so gorgeous and I’m glad I’m a silly mess sometimes. (Also someone told me later that you can cross…at any point in the street its fine. so my attempt at being ‘culturally sensitive’ and ‘not like other Americans’ turned out to be very misguided). Point is, here are pictures from my journey. I love it here. It really is surreal and sometimes I have to remind myself that the mountains are real and not green screen. the Pictures dont’ do it enough justice, all the houses and things, but trust me, it’s all great and lovely come visit me and see.

Bavaria is really Catholic and there are things like this all over, they’re all so beautiful and I really love it.

The square in the pedestrian area.

And of course the Alps

A lot of the buildings have these balconies too, part of the aesthetic apparently.

Most of the buildings have these beautiful paintings on them, most are religious in some respects, others not so much. Its all great.

 

I’m not superstitious….but I’m a little stitious

Tags

bad luck, bavaria, bottom of the totem pole, first day, friday the 13th, i'm the smoothest, travel, work, working lady

So orientation ended, finally. On the last day we set up our bank accounts, toured the base, and FINALLY got our ids. No more carrying my passport and travel orders everywhere I go. Also I’m officially a member of the US Army. You’re welcome everyone.

So first day shift started at 7AM on Friday morning. Considering the sun rises at about 5 here, not too hard to get up at 615 and get ready. (Mom and Dad if you’re reading this please try not to have a heart attack at me getting up easily before noon, I too am still in shock).

I headed over to the locker room and my uniform was waiting for me on the rack, in all of it’s polyester beauty.

I make my way down “The Mile” as they call the underground tunnels, towards the kitchen. I find my supervisor Sylvie who promptly asks me where my name tag is. Of course, I’d forgotten it in my room. So I run off to try and find it.

Anyone who knows me can probably predict the next point of my story….it was nowhere in my room, oh and neither was my purse where I realized my nametag was. I start panicking and realize it must be in somebody’s room that I went over to the night before with a bunch of people to watch the World Cup. It is 7 in the morning and I’m debating into head whether to wake them up or not to get it and them I Remembered my entire life was in that purse.

My anti terrorist orientation suddenly came flashing back and Mikes voice yelling me that 1 in 50 people are criminals and that someone will steal my stuff is all I can here as I pound on their door with panic in my eyes that I had left it tree and someone had rifles through. And of course nothing was missing they were so nice and lovely to me ad I sprinted off back to work, 15 minutes late at this point…

So I’m working at market station which is buffet style breakfast and lunch, and more traditional restaurant for dinner. My job? The prestigious plate scraper. Here in Germany there are strict recycling laws and all the food products have their own bio waste section, which is where I come on. When the plates from the front of house come back I have to get rid of the trash and scrape off the food into the big bin. Everyone has this job at one point or the other, and it’s really not tht bad except three hours in. All of a sudden the accumulation of salsa, omelettes, waffles, yogurts ugh everything becomes a little shall we say nauseating to an extreme. In my head I joke with myself (i had so little other human contact I had to amuse myself) about me vomming at work, purely hypothetical. And then I breathed in just a little to hard and enthusiastically, and my body could take no more. I had to run to the bathroom and actually vomited.

My first day in a gif-shell. Aka disastrous

I mean its nice that this place in the middle of the Alps is incredibly picturesque and unreal because apparently I have yet to master being a real person. I’m matching my environment.

But hey I got five bucks in tips and everyone was super nice at work.

In conclusion, Friday the 13th may be a bunch of nonsense fear, but I may be just a little stitous after my first day of work.

Near-Death by Powerpoint, Closer Death by Embarrassment and a Full Recovery by schnitzel.

Tags

beer, commissary, embarassing, i'm the smoothest, schnitzel, vinegar

After Tuesday’s attempt to murder my hand by signing things over and over again, I had been told that the next was even worst.

Death by Powerpoint. The only thing that could have made it more awful as if they did half the presentations in Excel too. Oh and I got 4 hours sleep because I’m an idiot. Bless the Rains for their foresight and the fact that in the conference room they provided free coffee.

Met with the GM and a bunch of other managers all day. Alpine Adventures sounds amazing. They lead the tours and they have a kids program thing and I almost hugged Leigh (or shred as everyone calls him) told us that.

I’m in Food and Bev, they make the most money but they hardly ever get time off. I’ll be working the morning breakfast buffet for the next couple of weeks but I finally got my schedule fixed and they’re training me to be a cashier and to work at the Point too. which is basically the resort’s Mew’s. I can’t apply for a different job for 90 days, so at least I’ll save a bunch of money, because having to be up at 5:30 limits the amount of discovering German beer that I can do…for the moment. But I mean also if I’m done by 1:30 u know my blowout skills are about to make a comeback. I am in ‘the land of beer’ as everyone keeps telling me, and I’d like to enjoy actual good beer before having to head home.

if leslie can do it so can I

Oh I also found out my contract is 15 months not 13, so i’m not coming home until next september at the very earliest. Unless they fire me. And if I’m too stubborn and attempt to discover too many German beers that..might happen. BUT YOLO LOL

Oh my god no, i”m kidding, that’d never happen.

But after the agonizing torture of orientation, Danielle and I decided to go to the commissary and look around. I’d never been in one before and I’m still a little in shock at how utterly cheap it is, and how i’ll never lack for everything American. They weren’t exaggerating one bit about this being “Little America.” Like a less exciting Chinatown or Little Italy. Hoping I don’t get caught up in the little bubble, but I don’t think I will.

so at the commissary I ended up getting so much more food than I thought I might. Didn’t bring a bag or anything to help carry things in because, if you haven’t figured it out by the last post, I’m incredibly smart and mindful. My roommate and I end up loading up a cart, really just with basic/essential things like rice and chicken, lunch meat, and obvs potato chips. Get to the counter to start checking out, I didn’t have my ID yet so a whole thing about me not having that had to go down, my travel orders ended up being fine, and everyone as nice about it. Learned that none of the food had taxes on it (not in a state so no sales TAX so dats p dope, i recommend not being in a state to everyone except in a good state of mind because living is hard any other way).

I’m casually trying to hurriedly put my things on the belt to check out and I reach for my vinegar bottle it slips and of course breaks ALL OVER THE FLOOR. (Mom I immediately pictured you in my head just saying ‘of course you dropped it Katie, of course). so glass is all over (i’m in flip flops because again, please refer to earlier in the blog post I’m quite the genius). and vinegar is rapidly spread all over. The lady checking me out kind of laughs and hands me paper towels, Danielle starts helping me and I’m mortified out of my mind.

I of course immediately start attempt to ebb the flow of the vinegar before the small commissary is drowned in it. I look down and my feet are covered in vinegar too. And in the back of my mind I kept battling whether to leave as soon as I humanly could (and maybe praying a little to God above that he could grant me super human speed for like 3 minutes tops) or slowly make my way back to the vinegar and buy more because yo Balsamic Vinegar is a hella dope condiment.

The leaving as quickly as possible won out, the prayer did not come through. so I think you owe me one there Jesus.

As I was cleaning the ladies informed me that there as a faucet outside I could use, like a small child after a rousing day at the beach, or a complete idiot that hasn’t learned in her life how not to drop things in very public settings. After finally cleaning up most of it with the help of my amazing roommate Danielle, I stood up, face redder than my sunburned arms, apologized a thousand times more and ran out. As I’m leaving quickly all the ladies inform me they’ll never forget me. Really good to know that I’m “Vinegar Girl” and will be for the next 15 months. I’m really very wonderful at first impressions. Oh and as I washed my feet a guy came from out of the commissary, sniffed the air and informed me that ‘the air smelled so good’ and laughed bcz of vinegar. V FUNNY DUDE.

Actually v nice, eased my embarrassment , but I’m pretty sure everyone is going to remember for ever. Joyous.

On the plus side, look with ur eyes at what I found in the commissary.

#Blessed #sohappy #neverthirstagain

At the end of the night, a bunch of us went to get cheap schnitzel at the lodge. Only 6.50 euro for a large portion, and I had no idea hat it as before, but needless to say, I think its amazing and I love and I finally understand ‘the sound of music” song. It made up for everything else that happened that day.

its so beautiful

Did I die on the Plane and is my personal Hell Freshman Orientation all Over Again

Tags

alps, bavaria, cold, germany, i'm an idiot, rain

Okay. Okay. The title may be an exaggeration because sometimes, please keep it on the DL, i like to exaggerate. A very deep personal secret of mine that no one has picked up on yet I promise you.

But really, I think its the same principle. The past couple of days they’ve had us up at 8 I think to try and get us on the proper time zone. Honestly, they’re not wrong. First day asleep by 10 (though some may say ‘passing out by sheer exhaustion after sadly attempting to make her bed’) and up at 7:30 to be ready by 8AM. And then all day, paper work.

Oh my god the papers I had to sign, the information to give. I think I’ve memorized my passport number. I don’t think regular people memorize that. By the time we did a tour of Garmicsh and Partenkirchen (they’re the same, but also super not. Hitler decided to make them one so that the Olympics could be held there even though they’d been separate entities for hundreds of years. Hitler was kind of pushy I guess, idk, I’m no history nerd) everyone was beyond exhausted.

After finally being liberated and being more joyous than Dobby I promise you me and the other girls headed over to the PX to buy things, and everything is cheap and i’m so happy. Bless the Rains for the PX and the Commissary AMIRiTE LADIEs. I am, as per usual. Thank you for the flattery.

Here the main bar to go to is Peaches and on Tuesdays they accept American Dollars instead of Euros. Yeah, they understand their clientele perfectly. Headed off around 11 and had a cinnamon tequila shot with an orange and holy crap it sounds nasty but that stuff is so good even a william and Mary professor would give it an A+. Dancing, drinking, and meeting people happened and it just…the flashbacks to freshman orientation did not end.

“Oh you’re new? where are you from? what’s your department [the equivalent of what’s your major!?]? How did you hear about here [translation: why did you apply here?]?, etc.’

I’m not complaining, every relationship has to start somewhere, but the eerie similarities to freshman orientation (exhaustion, questions, surprisingly oppressive heat and of course everyone around you drinking copious amounts of alcohol only no the beer is actually amazing and not Natty Light) were startling at times.

At around 1:30 my roommate and I decided to head on out since we had to be up before 8. we decided to be adventurous and walk back because it was only about half an hour back from what people had said, and I as pretty sure i knew my way.

spoiler: i didn’t

plz hide ur surprise it is unbecoming.

Danielle and I are heading down the road, that I think is correct and that I’m pretty sure there’s a road that we have to turn down that I don’t really remember but if I see it i’ll totally remember. Danielle comments that it looks like it’ll rain and we’re both kind of like ‘oh em gee that’d be great I love the rain” we feel a couple drops and are like ‘lol no probz’

Turn on a couple streets, all clearly residential, not right, turn back around. Decide to go back to the bar since there’s another street to take that I actually remember the name of. But thats like a good half hour back, since she and I had kind of gone off route

All of a sudden it starts pouring, cold Alp rain. she and I both laugh…at first.

science fact: rain is cold if you are not in say, Florida. Like hella cold. Direct quote from a journal i promise you.

then we run into a couple of other people from ELR and they laugh at us and they’re like ‘you’re on the right road, literally keep going straight and you’ll run into the lodge….”

so yeah, we had been going the right way in the beginning but I’m an idiot and got us actually lost.

this is me at the time of this announcement.

so our quick half hour walk turned into an hour and fifteen minute walk, that resulted in me not being able to move my fingers because of the cold and not getting home until half past two.

Good Job Catherine, an idiot from day one. Bodes well for when you, you know… actually ATTEMPT to leave little America

on the plus side this is one of the five mountains around me that kept getting lit up by lightning last night making the walk actually enjoyable.

not taken during the rain but you get the point

“You might be a security guard”

Tags

edelweiss, job, Munich, Tina Fey, travel

I ended up being on the plane from Houston to Munich with two other girls heading to Edelweiss, it was nice to not be entirely alone on the journey. They are both from Texas, and I found out that there’d only be 4 of us total coming to Germany that day.

The flight ended up being delayed by a couple hours, meaning we couldn’t get to Munich until about noon at the earliest. All I could do was YOLO it out. Finally boarded, got on the 11 hour flight, snuck in nachos because oh my god have you ever eaten airplane food it makes my stomach hate me at the thought of it. And I finally got to see the second Muppets movie and I didn’t think I could love TIna Fey more but then she ran a Goulag and had a Russian accent and fell in love with a puppet Frog and I fell more in love with her.

Finally landed, deplaned, met up with the other girls, deplaned, got luggage, and got to customs. All of us were confused as to what we should do to go through and, no visas or anything, but the guy just looked at my travel orders for less time than I look at a picture on Imgur and said “danke’ in a more bored voice than Joseph gives me when I ask him to explain things he’s learned to me.

After getting through we found Laura from Edelweiss, and ended up having to wait for the last girl for three hours. There as a beer garden across the courtyard so we all went and had beers. Really good, really nice, enjoyed it. But probably not as great for my dehydrated and exhausted body as say…water, or coffee.

while we waited Laura asked us if we knew what we would be doing. Katie said she’d be doing housekeeping, which turns out to be a pretty great job because they can get time off pretty easily. Her friend works there so she had told her earlier. Deidre is doing front desk. Laura turned to me and asked and I said I had no earthly clue, but probably serving since that’s my background. I asked if everyone that orked there had been hospitality majors (since Katie and Deidre had said they ere) and I mentioned I’d been a Gov Major and Laura turns me and says

“Oh you might be in security then”

Yeah. Me. In security. I have no upper body strength and am perhaps the least intimidating person on the planet. Besides my baby nephew.

Danielle got through eventually and the airline had lost her luggage. It sucks so hard for her. Finally got to Garmisch and holy frick is Bavaria utterly beautiful. I’ll post pictures later. Probably just the next post full of pictures.

Garmisch is really quaint, and the Alps are surreal. Its like they’re fake, like someone is constantly projecting green screen around us. There are several mountains all around us. And Edelweiss is right at the foot of one. Basically every time i”m outside a beautiful Alp mountain is in my sight. I’m so excited to hike and travel and go all around just Bavaria itself not even speaking of Europe.

Managed to stay up til 10 and got up at 7 this morning so no jet lag.

Okay this post has been long and boring enough, more later on Everything itself. But basically i’m here and safe.