Baia del Corallo

Arrived early this morning in Palermo (6:30 a.m.). After making the trek out to the hostel (which is 20 metres from the Palermo city limit), I decided to stay here for the day and forget about the city. Not because it is far but because I found a slice of paradise!


So I got my tan on for a couple of hours and finished my book.

I had a conversation (well I didn't actually do any of the talking because I can't) with an old man while waiting for the bus back to the hostel back from the grocery store where I stocked up on my life-liquid (beer).

In the afternoon I took a hike up this hill:


A hike that is best described by the Italian women's face who's house I passed in front of on the way down after she inquired on how I got up.

Driving lessons and more

Italians are crazy drivers. You have not driven until you have driven in Napoli. Traffic lights; nice decoration. Lines of the streets; who needs them? Courtesy? Forget about it! I felt as if I was playing GTA (minus the crashing). General rule: chacun pour soi et Dieu pour tous. When you see an opportunity, seize it!

Italians know how to live. As we drove down the coast from Roma to Napoli, we missed out on at least 10 km of beaches. Why? Because what better place to make a military base? A few kilometers later, a beach-side police station. Further on, a government building. I love it!

Many many years ago a sophisticated society existed in Pompei. Today all you can find is a colony of dogs (strays?) and a constantly flowing river of tourists and sales-taxi-men (much to the contrary of French cabbies who'd rather not pick you up--too much work); "Have you looked at the map?! It's much to far to walk." This is how a taxi-driver at the train station explained the 10-minute walk to the ruins.

The love locks: right your names and throw away the key. Beautiful.

At 8:15 p.m. I boarded a ship. As the "Raffaele Rubattino" left the port of Napoli, an assault of seaguls escorted us like a fleet of F-16 escorting a hi-jacked plane. They glided, spun, swooshed low, turned to and fro, dove; they offered an awesome aeronautic acrobatics spectacle. I wish I could fly.

FIRENZE (aka Florence):

David is one hot guy.

ROMA

The Vatican: I have seen many churches and cathedrals, but now that I have seen the mother-church of all churches, the Everest of churches, the Nile of churches... I have seen enough churches. No more for a while.

Fontana di Trevi: make a wish!

Cinque Terra National Park

Wake up, 7:30 a.m, after a long night of hearing damn church bells ringing every half hour!

See the sun rise from the hostel in Biassa, overlooking La Spezia.


Wait for bus, only 14 minutes late, to Riomaggiore.



Then visit Castle.

Walk on the "Via del Amore" toward Manarola.



Take the train to Corniglia.


Walk a 4 km hike to Venazza. 10-second walk through the smallest town in the world.



Wait 30 minutes for a train to Monterosso al Mare that does not come, catch the next one.


Eat lunch.



Take a train to La Spezia. Call home.

Take a train to Pisa. See the tower, eat pizza.



Take a train to Firenze (Florence) and finally, after an exhausting day, yet the best day of my whole exchange, GO TO SLEEP!

Milano

City of fashion. Home of the "aperitivo" concept: Between 6:30 and 9:30 p.m. you go to the "Naviglio Piccolo". You choose your bar/café/restoraunt by checking out the buffet on display. You buy a drink and eat to your heart's delight, and allthis before going to the "Naviglio Grande" for dinner.


Afterwards, you bargain for fake (yet quality) Italian brand-name bags, belts, wallets, glasses. Here you will find that you in fact have friends and family who are. Believe it or not, you have many brothers and friends in Milano, all of which are merchants. "I make you good price, you are my brother, come..." It suprised me that I had family of Senegalese origin. 99% of the merchants are from Senegal. He will tell you a price, which you will then take the square root of, divide by 3, subrtact 2 and round up, and there you have it, that's your price!

I was staying at my friend Inès' place with her flatmate, Mariangela, and her dof, Pimpe. Mariangela was bent on talking to me in Italian only, thinking that I would learn that way: wrong. I'm still just as lost as before.

Here's Pimpe loathing the commencement of her bath. She is a great dog who became my new friend.
Friday night we checked out a random rasta party in a park. Pimpe is a funny dog: she lured a big dog to our area. This dog proceeded to sniff around and somehow, maybe because she was wearing brown, mistook Mariangela for a tree...

At the modern art museum.



A cow-art exposition of display around the city (at least 50 or so cows, each one unique).

Italia, land of...

Italia: land of spaghetti and pizza, land of the Vespa, land of too many Vespas, land of crazy drivers, land of talking with your hands, land of style, land of sexy cars, land of tatoos, land of beautiful people, land of quality-everything-they-make, land of made-in-Italy.

Look right, then left

That's how to cross the street.

Back from England, land of driving on the wrong side of the road, using enormous wall plugs, not using the Euro, still using the imperial system and home of the Queen. Well actually, I loved it!

This is the lovely family who hosted me in their home, just oustide of Ahsford in the Kent county. This region used to be the "garden of England".

From left to right: Katy, me, Bryan, Maika

It was great to get away for the weekend to a relaxing place. Saturday was time to venture about London; it's not the most picturesque city. That night I got the real pub experience and went to this quaint pub up on the downs. We had a bbq on Sunday and played the name game. Monday we went for a hike on the downs.

Funny dog: Dreamer



Guards in front of Buckingham Palace