When in Rome do as the tourists do

Wow. Rome. What can I say about Rome that hasn’t already been said for a thousand years? Something that I had never heard before: it was more beautiful at night than in the day. Most of the ruins or ancient buildings are still well lit and the night restores much of the mystery of such an arcane scene. Plus- no lines, no tourists, and less heat.
From the day we arrive until the day we left, Rome was freaking hot. We tried to see as much as we could during the day but the heat drained the energy from us faster than we could refill it with pizza and gelato. Ronak and I found ourselves napping everyday for 2-3 hours despite being in the world’s center of ancient history and art. Don’t worry, though, we saw sights.
Probably the coolest thing about Rome is being able to see the ruins through alleyways and from rooftops. It’s more like you are the explorer and spotted something incredible for the first time. Standing in front of THE colosseum surrounded by ropes, lines of tourists and people trying to sell fake watches is like seeing the world’s most majestic and fierce lion caged. It just didn’t seem right. I’d rather see it standing over modern buildings and peeking through alleyways, proving that human modernization can never hide it. This is how I felt about pretty much all the ruins. The Pantheon was pretty cool and at night the plaza in front of it was filled with Romans and tourists dining and relaxing to the sounds of the city’s best street performers. We chose to spend several of our nights lounging in this plaza for people watching and gelato which the Pantheon as our backdrop. Pretty sweet.
Other sights: the Baths of Caracalla were pretty boring, but impressive nonetheless. The Sistine Chapel…wow, how can I describe this? If you’ve seen it you can know, that’s really the only way. Michelangelo, Raphael, Bernini and Botticelli (first: I looked the last two up, second: there are other artists too) probably showed us a level of art that we don’t even deserve to see and this is fitting considering the scenes depicted. The Vatican City in general was pretty awesome. St. Peter’s Basilica and Square were incredible. The Basilica, specifically, seemed as if human hands could not have made it alone, especially considering when it was made (~500 years ago). Standing in the Basilica with the thought that all of this was the result of One Man 2000 years ago was a bit overwhelming, to say the least.
I think Rome is a place everyone should see. I don’t even like history but for four days I was a fanatic. Sadly, after long enough, ancient ruins just seem like old buildings and we have to move on from our mountain top experience in the center of the ancient world. Also, after four days of hiking in a soul-drilling heat and having your cerebrum force-fed facts and dates, it’s nice to take a break. Zurich.

The One That Got Away

Florence, oh fair Firenze, we just missed each other. Florence was a big, bustling city. The sidewalks were full of wealthy locals and the streets full of Vespa’s and Alfa Romeo’s. Our hostel, when we arrived, was incredible. Clean and modern, we felt pampered. The shower was immaculate. I showered simply for the pure joy of a perfect shower.
Charming little café’s and Gelateria’s lined the streets like the gold lining on fine china. This was the place were I fell in love. I fell in love with stracciatella. With an oh-so-creamy, light gelato base hugging rich, deep chocolate sheets. It was perfect. Sooo perfect. This was our appetizer. For dinner I had four-cheese gnocchi. Real, homemade gnocchi. I’ve never had gnocchi like this…it was fantastic.
We didn’t see much of Florence. We saw a cathedral- the enormous Duomo- that was visible at the end of nearly every street in our area. We walked around to find another gelato shop and enjoyed our awesome hostel.
Really, sadly, this was the extent of our Florence visit. Something is drawing me towards this city, though. Maybe it’s the fact that we did not get a chance to see other parts of the city, other districts with different cultures and kinds. Maybe it is simply a mysterious siren singing to me to come back. Don’t worry Florence; I’ll be back, eventually. But now, Rome calls, and Russell Crowe scares me, so I won’t keep all the gladiators waiting.

Gelato, bridges, and more gelato

Our trip from Budapest to Venice was our second night train. To make a long story short, it was much better. A Newer train with nice beds, good AC and good company. We were joined on our trip by young couple from Holland and a British guy. The British guy told us a very inappropriate story, we all watched a movie on my laptop, and we all slept much better than we did from Prague to Budapest.
If I can use another car analogy, Venice was like a rare, classic car-in disrepair. Venice was old, dirty and beautiful. Also similar to this car (in my head I imagine a 289-cubic inch, 1966 Mustang GT decomposing in Miami), Venice is expensive and impractical. I’ll admit to you, Venice was not my favorite city. Ronak liked it but he refuses to write so you’ll have to get my best, objective try.
Ronak and I stepped off the train and got a little taste of home. Venice was hot. Really hot. The heat, it turns out, was a pleasant side effect of the amazing sunshine. A perfect, unblemished, blue sky hung over our heads and painted the perfect tan on all of Venice’s guests and inhabitants. If Easter Europeans looked like supermodels, Venetians looked like movie stars. It was as if that perfect sunshine also drizzled D&G sunglasses and Louis Vuitton purses onto every body. Yes, the men there carry purses too. I believe they prefer to call it a “murse,” or, “European Carry-All.” The canals of Venice were a filthy green color, but if you didn’t look too hard they were pretty and charming. The immediate novelty of the city was fun. Cars are boats and the streets are made of water. Also, there were many, many bridges. The bridges are charming and they make great pictures. Bridges are not, however, efficient. You march up and stumble down. You do it again and then repeat 100 times. By the time we got to our hotel we were sweaty and tired. There was no receptionist. There was a cleaning lady who told us to go away. Since we had no room, no map, and 50 lbs draped around us, Ronak and I did the most logical thing: we sat on a bench. We sat and watched for any activity in our hotel. Eventually a nice, but undeniably creepy, American man started talking to us. We sat some more while avoiding conversation and watching our wallets. Finally two other backpackers went into the hotel and failed equally. Logically, they came to the bench and also sat. I was too tired and sweaty to socialize so I went and checked on the reception again and a silver-haired Italian man greeted me and gave us our key. With this key came some of the most elaborate room directions I have ever seen. Please see the map he drew us on the spot. Remarkably we made it to the room on our first try. Then we napped.
Showered and rested we decided to give Venice another try. Later in the day it was hotter than when we first arrived and still as beautiful. We had pizza for lunch that was OK, not as good as Prague. Ronak had eaten one or two serving of Gelato by this time (just so you know). Piazza di San Marco is the big hot spot so we headed in that direction. San Marco was very impressive. An enormous, pretty, old building butting up against an enormous, pretty, old Cathedral. Dying to use some of his Indian skills, Ronak decided to buy a hat. Please, let me recap: The guy wants 12 euro’s for the hat. Ronak says no, I’ll give you 5 euro’s. Man says 10 euro’s. Ronak says no, 6 euro’s. Man says 8 euro’s and Ronak says yes. Ronak is the proud owner of a bargained hat. Eventually, we see the same hat on sale for 6 euro’s. It’s about the principle of the thing, right? Anyways, San Marco is very impressive. The water on this side of the city, I believe opening to the Adriatic Sea, is gorgeous.
Ronak and I spend the end of the day walking aimlessly around the city. Every street is an alleyway and getting lost is easy and fun here because as long as you keep walking you will end up at a bridge or a watery dead end with a gelato shop close by. Like I mentioned earlier, the pizza, and food in general, was disappointing. The streets were full of youthful travelers and locals at night. We joined our two roommates for a glass of wine and some conversation, just to feel social, and then went to bed early. You see, to me, Venice was just a pretty face, and we had a train to catch to Florence.

“Isn’t there an elevator? For, like, disabled people?”

The overnight train from Prague to Budapest was not pleasant. It was hot, small and crowded. We did not sleep. But we were still excited to be in Budapest. Well, I mean, we were excited after we finished our 45-minute walk to the hostel from the train station with our entire luggage and no rest. Oh, and, this was al around 8:00 in the morning. The city was much larger than we expected. The streets were full of cars and the sidewalks were full of people and the buildings looked very, very old.
Our hostel was easy to find, it was just far away. It was located on a very busy tourist street with countless restaurants and souvenir shops. We couldn’t check in until 2:00 or 3:00 so we dropped our luggage off and relaxed in the common room for a bit. When I say relax I mean passed out while charging dead electronics. A big, energetic group of Swedes woke us up with their optimistic blonde heads and funny-sounding language and they give us the encouragement we needed to go out and see the city some before we could check in. This was around 10:00 am. We got up and headed to the nearest café to eat. Luckily for us, we took, maybe, 20 steps and saw the words omelet and French toast. Time for breakfast! Who knew Budapest could make a mean American breakfast?
We hit the streets and admired the classical architecture and the impressive statues. We did have a goal: Buda Castle. You say it like it sounds, as if there may be a very large, round-bellied Chinese man sitting atop it. We could see one very large hill with a crown of concrete walls and domes. This must be Buda Castle…right? Of course we’re right, so we walked down a street, over an enormous, white bridge and we crossed a street. We now stared straight up at some steep stairs and an enormous statue (about 200 feet up) of a very imposing angel. Like I said, this must be Buda Castle. We step steps and climb climbs, we zig and we zag and finally we make it up to the impressive angel. “Isn’t there an elevator? For, like, disabled people?” I thought out loud. NO, there is no elevator. We must suffer for history. This BETTER take us to Budacastle. We climbed more, I was, at this point, cursing the laptop, camera, water bottle and the ridiculous amount of Euro-cents change that fill my shoulder bag and pockets. And why was it so HOT here? We now understood why Europeans can eat our McDonalds, KFC, Burger King, Dunkin’ Donuts and smoke like 5.0 mustang tires on a drag strip: one walk up this monster per week and your heart could one-punch Mike Tyson. Seriously, it was really hard. Anyways, we fought on and made it to the top (750 straight up but the round about path was more of a mile). We were surrounded by spectacular views and there was a very large metal lady holding a very large metal feather, but where was Buda Castle? As none of you expected, we had accidently climbed up to the ‘Citadella.’ The Citadella is a symbol of military power built by the Austrians after they dominated in the Hungarian War of Independence. Anyways, we were happy for the views and the much needed exercise.
We were rewarded back at the hostel with an awesome, clean and very large room with an amazing view of Vaci Utca, Budapest’s Rodeo Drive. There were some enthusiastic British guys in our room but we declined their offer to party because we had big plans for dinner. We headed down to the Danube to Spoon (Ha), a trendy, popular restaurant on a large boat parked on the Pest side of the river. The atmosphere inspires class and the clientele were soaking in it. With a beautiful view of the Chain Bridge (first connection between Buda and Pest) Ronak and I sat down to our first splurge: gourmet food. Mine was an impressive, tasty and small stuffed chicken item with creamy sauce and very smooth mashed potatoes. Ronak had a very-well-presented meal. He manages to mumble out a description, “delicious tortilla with cream sauce…roasted veggies,” when I asked him just now, from across our room in Rome. To walk off our small meal we went to check out Margaret Island which is the frequent site of festivals, concerts and other events. That night, it turns out, Margaret Island was just a creepy, poorly lit land mass between Buda and Pest. Despite what some people may believe, this is not our scene and so we decided to head back to enjoy our first nice hostel room and relax.
The Beds were clean and comfy and we decided to hang out with the nice people in our room, a French guy and a girl from the Netherlands, and go to bed early. We woke up, had some more omelets and found a nice, big park to toss the Frisbee around. For a lunch/snack I grabbed a very tasty gyro from a street stand and Ronak had a Lango-a crispy fried potato dough slab. There are many toppings options for Langos, such as cheese, garlic, veggies, meats. Ronak, of course, asks for sugar and cream. We ate and headed out for our priority before jumping on the night train to Venice at 7 pm, Buda Labyrinth. Underneath a random building, in a random location within Buda Castle is a little door. If you go through this door and follow it down (and pay for a ticket, of course) you find yourself in an authentic labyrinth. It is dark, damp, very creepy and really, really cool. Worn-down statues of soldiers seem to jump out at you after every turn. At one point, we exited a pitch-black tunnel and a sunken, statue head, the size of a Minicooper is staring at us. It is very dark and I could only make out the giant eye and nose, which were enough to boost my pace to the next room. For you guys at home, however, I went back and took a picture of it, and then a picture with flash to demystify it. It was still creepy. Before the end of our labyrinth tour, we heard some happy, medieval music leaking from a hallway. We do the most predicable thing and follow it to be rewarded with a lush, vine-covered wine fountain. A sign proclaimed it “not for consumption” but whatever. With our Budapest highlights out of the way we pick up our stuff from the hostel, take a shower and hop on the night train to Venice. Thank goodness, this one is nice.
→ Venice

“Yeah, Jim is good with the ladies…”

Prague, or Praha for the learned, was a beautiful city for sure. There is not one building in Gainesville, or any surrounding city for that matter, that matches up to the lowliest of buildings in Prague. As our [crazy] tour guide mentioned, “Prague has more statues than anywhere else in the world. Not per capita or per city…just more.” He was right. Buildings have statues, roads have statues, light posts have statues, and statues have statues.
Our hostel in Prague was nice but the roommates were not the best so far. We had three different pairs during our two days there. The first were two nice guys from Holland. No problemo. The second pair were two more guys (as you stay in more hostel you gradually realize that girls are much better roommates, as much as I don’t like to admit this), one from the New England area and his friend from the Netherlands. They were smelly and their clothes were smelly and they made the room stink for two days. OK, we can deal with that, they were nice guys nevertheless. The third pair, that took the Holland Guy’s beds, was disgusting. They were from some Scandinavian country, apparently one with no standard of living. They smelled too, but they offered so much more. They stole our key card (by an obvious accident- but still), they had dirty…stuff…scattered everywhere. The final straw was when we woke up to check out; one of them had vomited in the only sink. Whatever, lets hit the streets of Prague...
Prague was awesome. We had entered the part of Europe where everyone was starting to look like a supermodel (the more east/south we go the more this seems to be true). We left our hostel to find a good place to eat. We decide to stop at a pizza place with some nice tables by the road. Incredible pizza. They are cheap and described as 10 inches across. I decide 10 inches is (measures with hands) this big so we each order our own pizza. Turns out I am not a reliable measurer without a ruler. We shortly receive two enormous pizzas. Mine has four miraculously melty cheeses and is eight times delicious. Ronak’s vegetarian pizza is stacked with brick oven veggies and smoldering cheese and would make anyone happy to be vegetarian. So far, we like this city. On our way back to the hostel to relax and sleep we spot a place to eat for breakfast the next morning. Enter Bohemian Bagel: a simply, classy “bagel” shop that serves genuine American breakfast. Ronak devoured a thick, heterogeneous mixture (omelet) of fluffy egg and chopped veggies. My eyes, and stomach, were full with a fat, phat pancake curled around two sausage links with butter and warm syrup that comes standard with café and a bubbly mimosa. At this point we are ready to move here, and we haven’t even been to the real city yet.
As I inferred earlier, the architecture is just amazing. Prague, uniquely, had only one building destroyed during WWII. This makes it one of the very few cities that did not have to rebuild in Europe. In other words, everything is OLD. A 200-year-old building is not impressive in this city. The “old town square” is filled with tourists and restaurant promoters. Ronak and I decided to hop onto a free tour (the same company we used in Berlin) and soon discovered our crazy guide. He spoke at least 4 languages. He was from Los Angeles and English is his native language, we heard him speak Czech (he has lived in Prague for eight years and is a fluent speaker). We heard him speaking fluent Spanish to some Chilean kids. Some Slovakian people walked by and he spoke with them for a couple of minutes (he said his college roommates were Slovakian and so he just picked it up). While we impressed with this, Isaac, our guide, was funny, offensive, loud, absent-minded, oh, and did I mention offensive? Luckily, he offended everybody equally, so it was hard to get mad. The city has a very rich history and it really, really cool. I, however, do not remember most of the history so you’ll have to check Wikipedia for that because this blog is already too long. So lets skip to the nightlife.
Ronak and I join up on a bar crawl. We did it in Berlin and it seems like the best way to get an idea of the nightlife as it visits 4 bars and one club. As we are waiting for the ‘crawl’ to start we bump into three American guys and we cling with them because the other people are sketchy and we are mildly xenophobic. It seems that we had met three people more nerdy than ourselves. One guy was about to begin a computer job with Amazon.com. Another was a music major and made awkward jokes. The last was the least nerdy (including Ronak and I in the group) he was an econ major and his name was Jim. We start the parade to the bars with our group of 5 guys and we meet lots of different people. It turns out, the nerdy guys like to party. The three guys we meet start pounding beers and are quite the socialites. The night starts to fly by and before we know we are in quite a cool club with four large underground rooms. There are flashing lights but you can’t see anything. The music is blaring but you can’t hear anything. We find our American friends and regroup. These three nerdy guys have started quite the party. They met a group of Brazilian girls and have managed to keep them interested. Ronak and I are thoroughly impressed with this. The Brazilians are pretty nice and they have a very hilarious French friend who helps Ronak and I with our Paris trip a little. By next bar we can tell our makeshift group of Americans and Brazilians is starting to fall apart. The girls seemed bored and annoyed and suddenly we realize why they were hanging out with our nerdy friends in the first place. In a dark corner, on a couch, I spot Jim (the less nerdy one). He is with one of the Brazilian girls, for lack of a more accurate description, necking with a side of tonsil hockey. Very amused I grab the musician’s shoulder and shout, “Hey! Check out Jim with that Brazilian, I can’t believe it.” The Musician-nerd loses his smile and says with a hint of emotional pain, “yeah, JIM is good with the ladies.”

→Budpeschhht

"Don't even think about trying to steal"

Berlin would have been a fantastic city. If we spoke German. The Germans, it turns out, are not terribly hospitable. Despite this little bump Ronak and I had a great time in Berlin. We took a free walking tour with a company called New Berlin (whatever country this tour is in assumes the country's name...New Prague, New Paris, etc). Our tour guide was fun and energetic and we got a really nice tour of Berlin. Because I do not know what to do with html, I am just going to set up photobucket or webshots for the pictures because I have a lot of photos. More on that later.

Ronak and I saw the Gates of Brandenburg where, totaling over 10 million, the allied and soviet troops finally converged on Berlin and the last shots were fired for WWII. We saw a very neat Jewish memorial park (best way to describe it I guess, I'll post a picture).
(Ignore that girl in the picture, she is not part of the memorial)
We saw the apartment of the man who said the words that effectively brought the Berlin wall down.

One of the cooler stories was of how eventually, the German police protecting the checkpoints in the Berlin wall were surrounded by thousands of Germans shouting "We are the people!" Earlier in the soviet rule of East Germany, the German police would have fired shots into the crowd of their own people. But as time wore on, the police were feeling the same oppression as the people. As the multitude of chanting Germans finally broke through the checkpoint, the German police just stood by and watched, a symbol that they cared more for their people and country than the government who ran it.

The food in Berlin was pretty good. Specifically, a sausage called Curry Wurst. They take this "wurst" and cover in curry ketchup. Then they pile crispy french fries on top, more ketchup, curry and seasoning. MMmmmm. And just so you guys know, the streets of Berlin are flooded with Dunkin' Donuts, KFC, McDonalds, Ben and Jerry's, just to name a few. Breakfast however, is not quite the same. Outside of the U.S., no one can really get breakfast right. As we sat in our hostel dining room, we were presented with a 6 Euro buffet. They had bread, meat, hard boiled egg and butter. All cold. Ronak and I preceded to make out breakfast sandwiches. Mine, cheese, salami (I think?), egg whites from the hard boiled egg. It's not that it tasted bad, it was fine, it's just that no one makes a hot breakfast like the south eastern United States. Really Ronak gave a better example of this. As my Indian friend symmetrically prepares two sandwiches (ingredients laid out like synchronized swimmers) he decides that this will taste best: bread with butter, slather ketchup over the buttered part. On the other piece of bread, put cheese and salt and pepper. Ronak is ready to mangle his hard-boiled egg and take the shell off so he prepares a napkin for the mess. As he strikes the egg on the table a very intimidating German man walks up behind him, leans over and says in the meanest sounding German accent your brain can muster, "Don't even THINK about trying to steal." He then picked up a flyer that was 10 inches from Ronak's face and moved it, dramatically, two inches closer. We are not sure if he was telling us not to take the abomination on Ronak's plate or maybe there was something more valuable around us that we did not see. It must have been the ketchuped abomination, however, because as Ronak took his last bite, the German soup nazi (is that not an appropriate Seinfeld reference because he is German? If not, I apologize) left the dining room. The room was still full of about 50 people besides us.

Breakfast Nazi behind us, we toured a concentration camp, but one that seems to have more history under soviet control (political prisoners, german prisoners) after WWII so it was not exactly what we were expecting but obviously still had an imposing history of suffering and oppression. I cannot spell the name of the camp, spoken it sounds like Sauchsenhauser.

Hearing again and again that Berlin is THE PLACE to party, we joined a pub/bar/club group tour. This consisted mainly of 40 our-age-youth being cattle herded around Berlin's bar area. The bars were pretty cool. The first place we went was, on the outside, a graffiti-covered alleyway. Once we mustered enough courage to walk all the way through the alley we were rewarded with an awesome, outdoor, Bahama style bar. Beach sand, with palm trees and very hip decor. Bathtubs with a side cutout to be a couch, car axels with the tires on them as benches. Creepy but unique metal sculptures that would breathe fire adorned the roofs of their respective bars. We met up with a group of 5 people we had made friends with earlier that day at the tour. Four Americans and one canadian. We traveled to some other bars, avoided free jeagermeister shots (I would expect the first time 20-somethings refused free alcohol at their bars). The final club we ended up at was cool, nothing too impressive though. It was large with several rooms boasting different sytles of music. One part playing American alternative and rock, the middle- and largest section- playing electronic and the other parts I could not discern. What did stick out about this club was the bass. It wasn't even loud, I could speak without full out yelling. But the bass I could feel travel through the back of my neck and forcing my adam's apple into matching its frequency. Incredible bass, like I've never felt.

And that, in a nutshell, was our trip to Berlin. We are now, after a five hour train ride in Prague. So far, outstanding pizza, more to see today after a good nights sleep.

Stay Classy,

Ricky and Ronak

Plenty of Time!

So our plane to Cincinnati, Ohio was delayed. Then delayed a little more. Ronak and I were worried that we may miss our connecting flight to Frankfurt but our flight attendant disagreed. Mr. Flight Attendant insisted that we would have plenty of time. "Plenty!" he said. As predicted, it was the opposite of plenty, it was literally negative time. Ronak and I sprinted through the airport without regard for elder or disabled. We made it, huffing and puffing, but we made it. Our flight was good and we landed in Frankfurt very tired and decided, for lack of a good hostel, to head straight to Berlin. With both of our cloudy brains and the help of a lot of different, random people we made it on to the train to Berlin and we were in the wall-less city by 5. We explored a little, found a good hostel and are definitely ready for bed tonight.

We are in a dorm with 14 other people (I know you parents will love that) but we've chatted with several of them and they have all seemed nice.

Berlin so far has been good. The "fashion" has really stood out to us...mostly as very odd. People seem to be able to get away with whatever they want. Ronak and I are wearing dresses tomorrow to test this theory. Just kidding. The city is beautiful and seems very efficient aka German. Every other car is a Mercedes or BMW or Audi and we are enjoying this :). We only explored for a few hours but there will be more to come as we go on some tours tomorrow and the next day.

UPDATED ITINERARY

Berlin

Prague

Budpest

Venice

Florence

Rome

Pisa (day)

Zurich

Paris

Amsterdam

Frankfurt --> home