Florence and the Cash Machine Part 2

0900 23/06/12

Ok so I’m writing this message after my first night as a couch surfer. It didn’t quite go to plan, but then again to things ever?

Having spoken with my host, Luisa, she had told me that she would be home after 9 and that as she would be studying and would not be going out there was no rush to arrive early. I wandered around the city. I found myself sat on the edges of a piazza when I got offered some weed off of a nice black man with Bob Marleyesque dreadlocks. I politely refused (as British as I could) and changed the direction of my gaze and discovered I had been sat in front of a grand church, with such ornate detailing, It was so big and a bright white colour, I have no idea how I missed it. But better than that, I was sat outside a Thai Restaurant. Mmmmmmmm I treated myself to crunchy and spicy pork and although I question which part of the pig the meat actually came from it tasted amazing. I thank the batter and the chilli.

Very British

Having eaten such a large meal, and not fully understanding the public transport in Firenze I decided to walk back to the train station to catch my bus to Louisa’s. Arriving at the bus stop at maybe 2240 I found that I could get the number 35 bus at 2301. Not bad timing I thought. So I waited and I waited and I waited and other buses arrived but not mine. Luisa had told me I could get the number 30 or 35 to her place. Undeterred by the nonexistent bus I checked the time table and thus decided I would simply catch the 2337 number 30 bus, I didn’t have long to wait. The crowd of people around me displayed signs of irritation, which indictated to me that the bus hadn’t arrived so I gained comfort knowing I was in the right place for at least 'A' bus.

Proud of myself for finding the bus stop I jumped on the number 30 when it arrived and I thought I was on my way. As I’m not familiar with the outskirts of the city I asked the driver to tell me when we get to ‘Pietri’ bus stop. Given his lack of spoken English he was able to express that the bus didn’t go there and ushered me off the bus at the next stop and drove off into the night, sounds almost romantic when you say it like that.

Checking the bus stop I was still able to catch the number 35, if it would turn up. I spoke to Luisa and she told me the bus was the correct bus and that two other couch surfers who are also staying where on that bus.  Next time I will ask a few passengers before I attempt to speak with the driver. The next hour or so included the non arrival of lots of buses and lots of phone calls between me and Luisa, she was so helpful. In the end with lack of a map on my phone (or in my hands) I decided to try and get a taxi. Since no one seemed to stop when I waved at them, presumably because it’s Friday night and they’re all full, I decided I was going to have to find one elsewhere.

I found an Italian couple who were either closing their furniture shop for the night, or committing a burglary. Either way I was just grateful that when I asked them (in my best Italian, no less) would they be able to order me a taxi they did and I had a good 5 minute conversation with them before the taxi arrived. Turns out, the world has some nice people in it. The taxi ride took all of ten minutes and I’m sure I was ripped off by the 12 euro’s he charged me but I didn’t care. I just had spent 2 hours at 2 different bus stops and frankly, I’ve never enjoyed a bus stop, even if it was not cold.

We spent about an hour chatting, the 2 other couch surfers, Luisa and myself before we decided to go to sleep. I do feel bad that I arrived so late so spent so little time with Luisa, I think as ever I have been trying to squeeze too much into too short of a time, I think it’s time to slow down a little. But Luisa was planning on visiting Venice next weekend so we agreed she could 'surf' in my tent - 'the lucky bugger'

Faith in people increased 200%, faith in bus drivers / buses in general – 1,000,000% (maybe I’m a tad dramatic)

A few random pictures from my time in Firenze.

Nope, It's not a gay bar, It's a 'Peace Flag' Very Confusing

there was a lot more than just 1

Florence and the Cash Machine Part 1

1800 22^nd June

(I apologise for lack of pictures, I appear to be having electronic issues connecting my phone to anything)

Ok so I wanted to have a better machine to take a picture of in Florence but what can I say, the renaissance left lots of nice building which fitted cash machines perfectly. I’m writing this post (at least the start of it anyway) from what I think is a public library in the middle of Florence.

I’ll presume you knew as much as me on Florence before I set off for here so here is a quick rundown of what I learnt on the train. Florence was the birth place of the Renaissance. It penned the term dark ages and holds claim to being the starting point of the united Italian language as we know it. Rather impressive.

Having 2 days without any arrivals or any departures I decided I should take myself off somewhere and try out this couch surfing thing. With numerous people telling me how pretty Florence (or Firenze as the Italians’ call it, maybe I should use that name?) was so without any more research done I was on a train bound for ‘Firenze S.Maria Novella’ (that’s the name of the train station, sounds much better than Manchester Victoria don’t you think?). I had contacted a few people to stay on their sofas and my first response was from a Romanian girl, called Luisa, who was studying in Firenze, and so my accommodation was arranged. I was also contacted by Enrico, who offered to show me around the city. If this is how couch surfing normally works I think I like it!

Unfortunately due to my lack of adequate preparation the train I wanted to catch was fully booked, I knew I should have prebooked, so I had to wait over an hour for the next one. I won’t pretend I wasn’t disappointed. Mainly because this meant that my meeting with Enrico at 1330 would now be pushed back to 1445. And as he was only free until 1530. I wouldn’t have much time to benefit from his ‘insider knowledge.’

Enrico was very pleasant, and he helped me find a map of the city so that I could see the sites. We had a quick chat over coffee where we swapped basic stories like you do. He was fairly new to couch surfing too so I felt a little more at ease. He told me he is studying classical music at university in Florence and is hoping to use the Erasmus scheme to spend a year in Germany. It was a little strange to be having a coffee with a complete stranger in a new city but it did feel strangely comfortable, so far I think I like this couch surfing thing.

We had a little walk in the direction of his home and we said our goodbyes, just on the Piazza square with the church and little building and bell tower. I got some pictures with my old phone because for the times being I am camera less, not a good thing to be when you want to take pictures let me tell you. However now my phone is holiding my pictures hostage and wont send them to my laptop, very strange! All hopes I had of climbing the bell tower went out of the window when I saw the height of it, 400 and odd steps would remain unclimbed, by me at least.

As I had done only the briefest of research sessions on the train to Firenze I was a little surprised when I realised that Michael Angelo’s David was here. I know it may sound very uncultured but I had totally forgotten. I say forgot because I think I knew about it from a previous visit to Pisa. Anyway back to today, I walked from the church thing and managed to find the Gallery which displayed ‘David.’ As much as I wanted to go in, word had clearly spread as the queue was huge and the temperature was far too hot for me to be queuing up to enter, even if it is a national hobby. I decided I would try again in the morning.

Speaking of queuing, I have seen a lot of ques today. Ques to enter the bell tower, ques to get into the church, ques to go up into the dome. I think that when people say the British like to queue, I think that I have found a perfect amusement park for all those queue lovers. Sure you can prebook most of these attractions, but why miss out on the chance to stand in line for 30minutes in the sweltering heat; I know I won’t be prebooking ;-)

Anyhow wander over, I turned back and decided to find and cross the bridge I had read about on the internet before I arrived. It’s called Ponte Vecchio and is the only bridge to have survive the bombings of the second world war, to cut a long story short it was saved because of its historical importance but some other stuff got bombed instead, I can’t say it’s fair but I hope it was worth saving. I say hope because I’m not there yet; I found myself a little library in the centre of Firenze. In my library I’ve got the chance to sit down in the shade, in air conditioned heaven without having to pay a fortune for a drink!

Ok so I’ve walked along the river and seen the famous bridge. I’m not an expert on bridges but it looks like a decent one. Think could do with tarting up a bit though. Compared to the others which were rebuilt it looks a little in need of renovation.  Time to ring up my host and see what to do now

A Day In My World

Ok so when I first came out here I was building tents. Now that I’m working as a ‘sole courier’ I have to do different things and since before I got here I had no idea a ‘courier’ did so here’s a typical day for me, at least.

So I don’t set an alarm, I wake up when the sun wakes me, usually around 9 - 930 because that’s when the heat starts to hit my tent. I’ll have a leisurely breakfast of ‘Good Cornflakes’ and coffee. Sometimes I might even treat myself and have yoghurt too!

I am trying to learn at least some Italian whilst I am here; so each day I will try and give myself a new word to use. Since I have to boil water on the gas hob it takes an absolute age for the water to boil. I’ll take this opportunity to visit reception. Say good morning and try to incorporate my word of the day into conversation. Most of the reception staff are nice and humour me with my little bit of Italian. I also have to collect a fax from reception each morning. The fax gives me details of my arrivals over the next few weeks; sometimes I will get a fax saying I have no arrivals, which makes my life so much easier.

Ok back to breakfast, I’ll take maybe an hour over breakfast because to be honest, I’m not in any rush. Once 11 o’clock hits I feel as though I should really start work so I will check which mobile homes need to be cleaned, if any. It is my responsibility to clean the mobile homes before the customers arrive. This is the part of the job I dislike. I don’t like to clean!

Depending on how clean the last customer has left the home, depends how long it takes me to clean it. But usually this is no more than 1.5 hours. Once my cleans for the day are done I will stop for lunch around 1 ish. Not that I’m a creature of habit or anything. I’ll make some pasta type dish for dinner; I’ve become quite fond of spaghetti with garlic and chilli in olive oil mmmmmmmmm.

Anyway after lunch I usually don’t have any more cleaning to do. Customers can request, baby stuff, you know cots and high chairs etc and sheets; so I’ll check that the homes look ok and then stick in the requests people have asked for into the homes too. Spraying lots of febreeze too.

When customers arrive they report to the main reception and check in with the camp site. Once they’ve checked in with the camp site the reception staffs gives me a call and then I show them to their mobile home, and give them a little info on the area, answer any question etc. Now whilst I’m waiting for the day’s arrivals I can either rake up the pine needles, clean outside of windows or just walk around and have a chat with my customers. I think it never does any harm for them to see me do some work.

If after that my customers still haven’t arrived its pool and book time (obviously with my phone, so that I can rush back to ‘work’ when they arrive). If they have arrived I prefer to go to the beach further down the coast. Then evening time I will either visit friends on other sites, go beach bar, receive visitors or just relax in my tent.  It is a hard life :- ) 

Verona, Broken Cameras and Graffiti (but not in that order)

8^th June

So let me describe how this little day trip came about. Thursday night last week I decided to visit my old campsite Mediterrano and join my old tent mate, Wafa, on a night out. Drinking games in the tent, tequila shots in Taitoo (onsite ‘Nightclub’) and a bike ride later I found myself dancing in ‘Sound Beach’ (an actual club, on the beach). I think it is safe to say I was a little drunk. Thankfully sound Beach is so expensive I had already planned on not drinking once I had actually got out. Wafa and I had made arrangements to do something on the Friday to make the most of our days off.  During our night a decision had been made, we were going to Verona!

Fast forward to the end of the night, 3am pedalling home and I think, there is no way Wafa will be at my site bright and early as promised. The morning arrives too quickly and whilst I role over for another hour in bed I have a faint hope that maybe Wafa will surprise me by turning up, a sausage butty in hand and oozing motivation, because I had none. Nope, this doesn’t happen! Instead I decide to work            and when I begin to clean a caravan; and who should appear around the corner, but Wafa.  Four hours late but still a perfect excuse not to clean for the day. Like I need much encouragement. Within 10 minutes I was changed, packed and we were on our way to the bus station to start our Journey to Verona.

On us way

The journey involved a 30 minute cycle to the bus station, an hour on the bus to Mestre Railway station and then finally an hour and 15 minute train ride to Verona. It does sound like a lot of faffing when I describe it like that; thankfully it didn’t feel like that on the way there. Coach journey to Mestre completed we bought some snacks for the journey and went in search of our platform. Who should we see on the platform? Only 2 other couriers from Mediterrano on their way to Lake Garda for a few nights. Alright for some : -) We boarded the train, chatted a little, ate our snacks, power napped, posed for pictures and read up on what we would be seeing in Verona. Nothing bar the balcony of Juliet and the graffiti on the walls outside of ‘Casa di Guilette’ (Juliet’s Gaff in Italiano).  stood out to me. I’m guessing that everyone knows that Shakespeare based ‘Romeo and Juliet’ in Verona and you can visit the home of the plays leading lady. 

Ooooh look at that Train, where's my log book?

Arriving at Verona train station we had the obvious pictures one must take when they arrive at a new railway station, and we began our walk down to the old city. Before we had had 5 minutes of walking, we stumble across a Moroccan supermarket. Wafa’s mother being Moroccan we had to go and look inside. I looked at the herbs I thought Italy had never known whilst Wafa used her best Arabic to get us 2 free cans of coke and a discount on us shopping. I bought some chilly oil type thing, and some herbs. I have no idea what they are but they’re bound to be a change from oregano. Continuing our little stroll towards Casa di Guilette we find a Chinese supermarket! Did I mention I love Verona? I bought some decent rice, oyster sauce and pickled ginger, I could have gone back to my camp site then but Wafa said she wanted to see some statue and touch its boob, but I’ll talk more about that later.

Out of character for me, I know,  but we were trying to be as cheap as possible. But walking seemed to be taking a little bit too long so we decided we would try and use the tourist bus to save our legs. The lady on the bus was very nice and invited us onboard. Her hospitality ended quickly though. Asking us if we had tickets we obviously replied no. After our success with our free cans of coke we clearly had an unrealistic view of the world and hoped she would let us ride for free, she had no other customers to complain. But alas no she didn’t instead she offered us the opportunity to buy tickets at 18 Euros per person; I almost fell off the bus. I double checked she didn’t mean 8 Euros, and it turns out she DIDN’T! As you can probably tell, we walked the rest of the way. 

Maybe now we'll get om for free!

It turned out that walking was better anyway. We saw some little streets which looked pretty and I slowly began to fall even more in love with Verona. The town is set at the bottom of a hill so it’s almost like the town is being hugged by this hill (you might even say the hill really ‘embraces’ Verona). It feels very reassuring after spending 3 months in an area where hills don’t exist. After not much time at all we reached the Ponte Pietra (some bridge) and crossed over to have a look in some shops and to find Juliet’s gaff.

Some Bridge

Again but on a funny angle

Where are we going?

The old town is old, but you can tell someone’s looked after it. The crowds had disappeared as we had arrived during siesta and it felt as though we were one of the few people still alive in the city. A quick look in shops and market stalls and we realised our train was leaving in less than an hour, oops, where had the time gone? I’m guessing the amount of time we spent in foreign supermarkets might have eaten up more of our time than we had originally thought.  

Walking is far better!

My new Gaff

Asking anyone we could find for directions, we realised we were very close to the ‘Casa Di Guilette’ This is what the Italians call the place where Juliet stood on the balcony and was courted by Romeo (I can’t really remember what happened). Even though people say that the story isn’t real and the only reason people focus on this balcony is because it is pretty the place was full of tourists. We didn’t care. The setting is very pretty and so secluded you could easily walk past it and miss it, we nearly did.

To get there you go off of one of the main pedestrian streets through a little tunnel and then there is this little courtyard with a balcony. Tourism is obviously raking in as much as possible with the gift shop (not sure that was there when Juliet lived here) selling the film/book in every language from Arabic to Zulu directly off the courtyard. The balcony is beautiful and had there not been another 50 tourists here (where did they all come from) it might have felt very romantic. Under the balcony is a statue of Juliet in all of her glory.

Wafa told me a story about what visitors are supposed to do when they visit this court yard.  Apparently folk law states that in order to receive good look visitors to Juliet’s house must touch the statue of her, in her yard. But you cannot just touch her anywhere, no no no you have to touch her breast. I’m not sure if it’s her left breast or her right breast you’re supposed to touch but whichever one it is meant to be, I chose the right one because ............ erm.............well...........erm............. Well the crowds on that side were smaller. 

Once pictures had been taken we went back the way we had came and looked at the graffiti on the walls of the tunnel. If we had had more time I would be able to give you some quotes but we were rushing so I can’t (sorry). The basic gist is that lovers leave a message here and that has grown to the masses of graffiti that are now present throughout the tunnel. Very Impressive. Better than the balcony in my opinion.

Deciding it was too far a walk for us to be able to walk for the train we jumped on a bus, which typically took a VERY long time to reach the train station. Probably because the driver decided to stop for a fag and a rest break, he clearly didn’t understand our urgency. If we missed this train then we would miss our last bus from Mestre and end up having to find someplace to stay in Mestre over night. During this little rest break I was met with an unhappy revelation. My camera screen had been used so much that day that it couldn’t take the excitement and had only gone and cracked itself. Unimpressed I sat down and wondered how many more electrical devices I would be replacing before this trip was over. So far I’m on internet dongle number 2, telephone number 4 (with one more on the way) and light bulb number 5 in 5 weeks, ok maybe I’m being a little dramatic.

Working her corner :-)

Shortly after discovering broken camera

My heart ache didn’t last long, but guess whose now going camera shopping after payday. After all I still had all the pictures from Verona, and I could still take pictures with it, I just can’t see the picture on the screen. I like to think of it as going back to the olden days, you know when cameras had films in them and you never knew how they’d turn out until they had been developed. We made our train and due to our good luck we had chosen the regional stopping service to Mestre. This took over 2 hours and then we had the wait for our coach back to Jesolo and then the bike ride home. Finally collapsing into bed at midnight, I was knackered, completely and totally, but I did love Verona!

Saarbrucken

Thursday 31^st May

I am writing this entry from my room in the Treviso Airport B and B. It’s a cute little room and importantly CLEAN. Having just spent 2 days in Germany I am reminded of how dirt Italy is in comparison. 

My New German Friend

I’ve had a great 2 days in Germany. We were very lucky as Dan’s friends Carlos and Emanuel had arranged for us to stay in 2 of their apartments in the same building as them. Although Saarbrucken does not have any world famous sites it was nice to be around people from home. We went shopping, in Primark! We had a Chinese in a restaurant called ‘Jasmin’.

We walked around the city/town whatever it is and found a little shop selling liquors. They have loads of different flavours, all of them in German so I had no real idea what they were meant to taste like but still it looked good. I would have taken more pictures but Jasmin had already been chastised by the shop assistant for being too happy with her camera. On a slightly more positive note they did give away some free samples :-) 

That night we had a BBQ in the garden. Well I say BBQ it was a German BBQ where there is fire underneath and the food swings from side to side. I’m sure it’s got a special name but I’ve no idea what that is. We ate lots of meat; BBQ’d vegetables and generally just spent time together, whilst being eaten alive by mosquitoes. Despite my best efforts to make ourselves taste vile apparently I’m too popular, frankly I could afford to be less popular. 

Carlos had arranged a secret cake as we were celebrating Dan’s 21^st Birthday from the previous week. So whilst Jasmin and Carlos tried to coordinate an excuse to sneak inside and bring out a cake I was left to make friends with some more of the local wildlife. Later that evening we had a wander into town, partly so that I could get a kebab, since Italy hasn’t mastered the art of drunken food yet. On our way back, we called into a local pub and had a German beer, well Carlos, Dan and I did, Jasmin drank some spirit, and I don’t even think it was German. Shame on you Jasmin! 

I was a little tired

Today we went to a little park and ate outside, under cover to avoid the rain. As soon as the rain had decided that it had finished the sun came out, very efficient, to be expected since we were in Germany. Having spent so much time in Italy where I was not eating a lot of meat and then to come to Germany where every meal revolves around it I’ve started to not be able to finish my meals. I’m not impressed. Once dinner was over we posed for pictures and probably got a little too close to the water’s edge, but no one caught us. 

We went on to a park which straddles the boarder of France and Germany. I suppose you could say today I walked to France but with a lack of physical boarders it was hard to tell which country we wandered around in. The signs where all in English, German and French. Apparently the entire area we had been staying in 50 years earlier had been part of France. Funny how boarders move.   

Best Boy Band Impersonation

Jasmin and I decided to perform some yoga.  And for some reason which now escapes me look at each other’s feet. Carlos told us of how there is a monorail type thing which is high above the park and you pedal and the thing moves. I’m not describing it very well so just think of it as a pedalo in the sky. Anyway we couldn’t ride the flying pedalo because it was closed.

One legged dog

Who's who?

The moment I had been dreading since arriving in Germany finally presented itself today, I had to drive the hire car. And it is amazing how quickly road rage can return to you. I drove directed by a combination of Jasmin and a printed sheet from Google and following Carlos in his car in front of us. Luckily Carlos did this because otherwise I highly doubt we would have found the airport even yet. The roads where filled with maintenance works which meant I didn’t have to drive too fast. It also meant that I had to drive in between 2 incredibly narrow concrete barriers. I‘ve decided after 4 months of not driving, I don’t miss it.  And just to prove my reputation as a good driver right, I crashed into another car, a parked car. This was whilst getting petrol, and as much as it pains me to say it, it was my fault. I think I’ll stick to my bike. Luckily there was no damage to either car and the owner of the other car was reasonable, otherwise who knows what could have happened. I’ve chosen to think he was reasonable; maybe he just didn’t have the energy to have a conversation in German with someone who clearly did not speak any German. Either way I was very grateful for his response.

Look NO damage!

Once inside the airport we had some food and a drink to calm my nerves. Dan also had some drinks as he doesn’t like flying. Being the supportive person that I am I had chosen a seat looking out of the window so we could see the planes land and take off. I really must start to think one of these days. Soon the time crept up when I had to say good bye again. I hate goodbyes, they don’t seem to get any easier the more I seem to say them, and off I went through security.