The weather's nice today... you just need to get above the clouds..

Imagine driving along a twisty, turny country road that snakes up and down a mountain... in the Italian countryside. Well, that's what I did with my Christmas vacation. Oh, and I got blessed by the Pope (aka the big man) himself in St. Peter's Square. that was pretty cool too.

What I just put describes only a snippet of the interesting experiences I have had so far in my travels. I have got to say that they've all been worth it - every single one. perhaps the only part that has been better (or rather made everything that much more memorable) has been the people...

The people add the spice and flavour to an already amazing and tantalizing foreign recipe. From the old man grumbling about having to move his car, to the Belgian woman laughing about how stupid her countrymen are, to the french physiootherapist willing to take me in after only a 5 min conversation, to the British barkeep who settled down in Perguia, central Italy (of all places) after having served in the army for 9 years and qualified to become an engineer.... seeing things + taling to people = solid experience. I think you would agree that this formula is so simple yet so true.

One thing you should think much about when traveling, Ive decided, should you stay in hostels or with people who actually live there? There are ups and downs to both - I think its one of those things everyone should figure out for themselves... Ill give you more lessons and questions to ponder for your own travels as I think of them. Until then, read a book about the place you want to visit. That was traveling tip #1 I never followed, haha.

Since arriving back in Orte from Brussels (and reuniting with Britt), we spent Christmas eve and day in the city (pics to come shortly!) afterwhich we did some intra-Umbria daytripping. We saw terni, perugia and orvieto. All very interesting, authentic places. Very rustic and Italian... you would never believe where and how people park their cars! Moreover, you;d be very surprised at the confluence between old and new, traditional and modern. If you're from somewhere like Canada, very quickly you realize how young, brash, frivolous and vain we NAers can be... why not just slow down and walk around once in a while? Maybe because we don't have hundreds, sometimes thousands of years of old ruins to pass by on a daily basis.... but my thoughts wander.

Britt and I are nearing the end of our time in Orte. the family whose place we are staying at will be returning on the 2/3. With their return, we will depart. To where? We'll let you know that as soon as we do...:)

Toodles,

Steve (and Britt)

A non-update...

Not too much to this post. I thought i would be able to bluetooth photos/videos from my phone to the PC but alas, I was wrong. Will need cable to be able to upload all the interesting clips and pics I've took thus far. No worries - will try to do before the 25th.

Oh - one quick thing. I had my first couchsurfing experience on Saturday/Sunday! Quite enjoyable. I recommend you sign up if you have not already - even if it's just to host other people/travelers. Also a great way for all you would-be travelers to learn more about "out there" without actually going "out there". Also a unique way to promote global citizenship.

In other news... Steven and Britt are staying here for Christmas Eve! Check out how close it is to Vatican City!

Toodles for now!

Steve

From Brussels with Love...

Hi all.

I am blogging from Brussels right now... as unamazing as that might sound. It is a nice but cold place - of course it had to snow the moment I got here! To let you know, Britt is safe and sound back in Rome. She's still a nanny. One interesting development about Britt: she is interested in going to cooking school when returning to Canada!

As for me, I cannot really say why I decided to come to Belgium... I thought it would be neat to eat a real Bruxelles waffle (they don't call it a "Belgian waffle" here apparently...?), see the peeing boy (like most other people I was pretty unimpressed by its size... and I mean the boy, not certain parts of it) and also see if the country is really going to split apart (which it isn't apparently). So now I'm sitting in Benoits' (x2) apartment, trying to interpret a french conversation between Benoit #1 and Pietro - his Italian friend. haha, C'est la vie!

I will write a more complete update before I leave to go back to Rome - check back Monday for more!

Steve

In Roma!

In Orte. Not sure where in Italy. Cold and starving. Send Money. Scared and alone...

Joking!!!

Steve found me... reunited! and it feels so good!!!!!!! haha you will have that song stuck in your head all day now. You're welcome!

Britt and Steve

Two stories... divided... yet connected

This post has a dual-update character. For unknown reasons, Britt is unable to access internet in order to update her blog... which is strange - since she updates facebook quite regularly. For shame no?

Update on Britt:

After getting to (around) Rome, and realizing small children are the devil incarnate (one in particular), Britt has continued to plod on with being a nanny. Not much is really known about her role on my end - all I hear about is how bad the kid is. Yes, she had to climb out of second story bedroom window... apparently this girl locked the door on her and the only way to escape was to do the impossible - tie a bed sheet to something and cliff-hanger it down the side of the house. The only other substantive pieces of information I have gotten from her are that she "misses me so so so so much" and that "pedro wants (me) to use his Honda 600cc Hornet bike when (I) get to Rome"... Stay tuned.

Update on Steve:

After eating my banana at the patisserie (?), I met up with Tesh Pantel - cool guy and london-ite extraordinaire. Meeting this guy made me realize just how uneducated and, as a consequence, unprepared I am for this journey of journeys. I made the mistake of calling people here European, attempted to pay for my battered fish and chips with euros, asked random people if they often said "cheerio", "wanker" and "sod" and, finally, laughed off jetlag completely ignorant to the fact that i would wake up 14 hours later as a result of it and, subsequently, miss my train. Now I'm sitting in St. Pancreas, waiting for the 1731 train to Paris after having paid a 15 pound change fee. Boo-urns. Hopefully it won't take me too long to find my way from Gare du Nord to Craig's place...

Some lessons learned:
- always set your alarm clock
- O2 appears to be the best carrier in the UK for int'l roaming rates - 10 p a text while I'm abroad to other abroad numbers!
- do not expect too many people to care about you.
- the pub is cheaper in London than almost anything else.
- THINK before spending any money - you never know.
- and i'm late again... shoot.... see you guys!

I made it!

Sitting in a patisserie on Great Eastern Street - I think like 112 if you want to google map it. It's sunny outside and London is bustling with activity. Their street signs suck. They have too many different terms - the train "terminates" at cockfuster, you can leave the station via the "way out", there is no stand behind yellow line, only "mind the gap". They have things like Piccadilly (what kind of world capital has something called that...?). Too many scooters - and they drive like maniacs. They also cram everyone into the underground like people are cattle... it's too much for a private space bubble-loving North American to bear.


Don't mention this to britt, however since landing in London i think I've spent the equivalent of $40 Canadian... she wouldn't have that at all....

Going to go meet up with Tesh and then find DFID - maybe I can score some schwag for my ID colleagues back in Ottawa...

Steve

Having Children... Need advice!

Don't worry - the title's not what you think it's about.

After a small run of bad (and just plain creepy) luck, Britt had to depart Sicily suddenly and is now somewhere outside of Rome. At least that's where I think she is.

Get this - in exchange for room and board at this new place, she has turned into a full-fledged domestic servant! She agreed to washing dishes, preparing lunch, ironing, taking care of the cat/dog/ponies and, surprisingly enough, taking care of her host couple's young daughter "Emilie".

That's right - Britt's a nanny!

She'll be doing this from now until Dec 21 or so. Can she do it? I hope she can - having a free place to stay over Christmas for the two of us would be sweet.

Alas, she has already run into troubles. I received a text message from her earlier this morning informing me that she "is never having children!!!" (the exclamation marks are hers). Now, I don't have too much information however I assume this is in response to having to deal with a very troublesome toddler.

Poor girl.

Wanna help!? Feel free to post advice for Britt on how to deal with raising children in the comments section!

Steve

And on a related note, check out this article from the globe and mail yesterday on the results of spineless parenting here.

A Tribute to the Chins...

Hey again,

On Saturday Nov 28th 2009 the Chinchillas will be officially leaving the buidling. A friend from back in highschool and, subsequently, Masters at Carleton University will be coming by to take my two ladies away from me. I thought it would be appropriate to post some pics of them - a short tribute comprising photos and videos from my phone.

They're really cute and I will miss them. I am only half sad we never named them - even if we had, I probably would have kept on referring to them as the "black one" and the "grey one". haha.

Enjoy!

p.s. I snuck one of Britt and me in there too... see if you can tell which one it is!

Steve's countdown to take off

Hi all. Steve here. Britt's boyfriend for those of you who may not know.

I recently decided to travel as well - I have to admit that Britt was somewhat of a catalyst. As you can see from one of the posts below, all we really had planned up to this point is to meet in Rome (more specifically, the Vatican) in time for Christ's mass. Rest assured we have been in frequent communication figuring out how to make this happen and so far, things look good. However, as with every plan, there are bound to be some setbacks and other challenges, minor and major, that I am sure I will have as much fun blogging about as you will have reading about!

Just a few house-keeping issues:

1) Please comment on blogposts as frequently as you'd like. My limited experience tells me that blogs are most useful when actually read and updated. You can help us with that!

2) Please let me/us know if you know anyone in the places we're visiting. For safety reasons, having someone who knows someone you know when you're in a place you're not familiar with is quite a bonus. And also, whether you believe it or not, when you follow the blog and interact with us, you're a part of this journey as well.

3) There is no plan. If you think you would really enjoy a certain place, let us know. Maybe we'll enjoy it too - and take pictures for you!

4) Mom... please don't worry. I'll be fine. It's the other one you have to worry about ;)

Thanks everyone!

I look forward to updating you before my departure on the 3rd!

Steve

French Toast

I left Paris feeling cold, wet tired, a little disspaointed and pretty lonely. Fortunately, every cloud has a silver lining and in the case of France that lining is solid gold baby! And, that little cloud is hanging out over the village of Limoux in the foothills of the Pyrenees Mountains.

The landscape is lovely, the air is clean, and the people are friendly. Technically Im there to work, to help restore an old farmhouse, and I do. Its hard physical labour, I spend my first morning cleaing out a 400 year old pigeon coop (lovely), and an entire day chiping concrete off of a wall, but for the most part my chores are less labour intensive and include baking a pie for a day trip into the mountains, going for lesiurely strolls, washing my own laundry, spending an evening at the spa, and attending dinner parties. People have payed money to be treated a lot worse than this.

The people Im introduced to are all wonderful. There's Camille, the Australian wedding photographer who kept me company and cleaned along side with me. Alving Booth, a world class photographer who gave me a tour of his 12 bedroom, 6 bathroom, 3kitchen, labrynth of a house. Garth Bowden, my wonderful, welcoming and well traveled host who shared his house, his life and first hand world traveling experience with me... and in turn I shared with him my recipe for french toast. Equal trade? I think so!

Steve is on his way!

I have not been keeping up with this blog. I will though. I have things written down just dont have the time to post them. This one is quick though, and to the point. Steve is launching on December 3rd so from no one this will be a co-blog, with Steve and I both posting.

Can you handle it?!

Parler Vous Franglish?

I have a problem. I'm in a bus station in rural France and I'm down to €60. My visa is being declined, ditto for my debit. I use €20 to purchase my ticket to really rural France before I realize that my cell phone won't work to text my host in really really rural France to tell them to pick me up. I'm exhausted after a seven hour car ride spend trying to speak french with my covoiturage (ride share0. The pay phone only takes credit cards, the vache at the information doesn't feel like helping me and I'm foobared eight ways and counting.

So, what do I do? Do I cry? Do I quit? Do I pack my bags and start walking home?

I consider all of the above but decide instead that this is the perfect time to eat the meringue that has been stowing away in the bottom of my pack since I left Paris. There's a little voice inside my head reminding me that I have no right to be upset. This is the adventure I wanted and nobody said it was going to be easy. I chose this and I'll figure it out.

Happily, I can say that I did, all on my own (with a little help from the meringue).

I made it from one end of France to the other taking the less easy, but easily more rewarding, path less traveled. I saw the earliest settlements of towns in Europe, practiced my french, got to hear fun historical facts from my french guide, and saw breathtaking landscapes for half the price of the train.

Was it worth in? Right now I'll have to abstain from answering that. I just got off of the phone with Visa and I'm still a little riled up after tearing a stip off of Rajid my friendly customer service representative who didn't seem to comprehend "I'm calling from France!!" But, give me a few days a hot shower and a glas of wine to ease these shaking nerves and I'm sure be "yes" or at least a very convincing "probably."

Paris

A city I wanted to love but who had no love for me. Arriving tired and in need of a shower after a long and boring bus ride wasnt the perfect way to start (neither was lacking change for the washroom or the metro). I soon saw a women walking with a baguette in her oversized designer bag. Thats when I knew I was in Paris.


The first day I headed out on a free three hour walking tour. I found a croissont before I found the tour and felt very french until I had to ask for directions, apparently all I need to say is 'Oui, ca va?' and I give away that Im Canadian. Its not that they wouldnt say that here, its just that my accent is that bad. Whatever. Screw you french bakery.

I take the tour, I meet other travelers, I see the sights,I stroll along the river with a cute australian (sorry steve) learning about Louis IX, etc, etc. Fast forward an hour - its raining and Im wet, Im cold, I dont tip the guide, I forget the Aussie, I go for wine instead with another girl who has had enough of this learning about history tourist crap.

When it stops raining we meet up with a local and we see the city from a different perspective, one that I prefer but still dont love.

Tomorrow I leave for Toulousse (very near spain) to spend some time in the countryside studying art. Paris was nice but Im not sad to be moving on so quickly and dont feel that Im missing out on very much. In fact, Im really looking forward to some fresh air.

a que for the loo (and I payed for it too) ... London.

London was... large. Very, very, very large actually. A city of 7 million people that nearly doubles itself to 12 million every day when people commute to work. Thats 12 million people all on there way somewhere, doing something and being incredibly incredibly polite in the process. The only rude people I met were indeed other tourists. We just know how to ruin everything dont we?

Im going to apologize in advance, this is being typed on a very french keyboard in Paris. In addition to the keys being where they shouldnt be, it lacks punctuation and has an attitude of its own. Im also sans spell check and since Ive lost the ability to spell on my own, there are going to be spelling errors up the wazoo. Is that how you spell wazoo? Spell check would know.

What did I see?

The British Museum - the outside, and the long line to get in.
Princess Dianas Park and her lovely pet swans.
Big Ben. A big dissapointment.
Houses of parliment. Meh.
Buckingham Palace. I ate lunch on the lawn.
Trefalgar Square. I tried to climb the giant lion statues. Epic fail.
Picidily Circus. Not actually a circus
Harrods. I tried to buy an elephant... Asian or African? They asked.

(that was day one)

Londons oldest cathedral
Artisian food market (free lunch!!!)
Boat to Greenwitch. I tired to get other people excited about being on a boat... apparently no one has seen that one here.
Greenwitch Market.
Watched football in the park.
Stradled the meridian.
Portabello Market filled with rude tourists and no mushrooms
Notting Hill. Couldnt find Hough Grant.
Payed to use the washroom.
accidentally found myself at Londons bombed out Metro Station. Had a very sobering moment.
Halloween wherehouse party (youd be proud of me Nicole)
Camden Market. cold. wet. grumpy Britt.
London Eye
South Bank.
Royal National Theatre.
Gabrielles Wharf
Tate Modern Museum
Millenium Bridge.

I would love to write more about each and everyone of these places but I wont because no one would read it. Also, Im really sick of this keyboard.

Next stop, Paris.

In transit to London

Bag packed, ticket ready, standing at the bus stop. I ready to go. I'm adventurous, fearless, young and invincible! Nothing can stop me now! Here's my bus, I'm ready... but it doesn't stop, it keeps going, it's full! Oh no! This is an obstacle I hadn't accounted for. I lose my edge. I'm not ready, I'm scared and I can't even figure out the transit system in my own city.

Take two. New bus, new route, friendly and helpful new driver. Wonderful! I make it to the airport and have plenty of time for beers and nachos with Steve. I can think of no better way to say our goodbyes. Steve slips a card in my bag and makes me promise not to open it until my plane takes off. We say goodbye. I cry. He takes a picture. The border guard gives me a smile and lets me through without any questions. Thanks Mr. Border Guard.

Now I'm on the tarmac on a tiny plane waiting to leave for Washington. There's about 12 other men in business suits on board and an empty spot beside me, which is good because I have the attention span of a two year old and can't sit still. Our plane is broken and we're going nowhere quickly.

Forty minutes later our tiny broken plane is fixed. I rip open the card and read the most heartfelt and sincere message and reassuring words from Steve. I know we're both going to be okay. I turn over the card and read something even better... he promises to meet me in the vatican for Christmas! Ahhhh! No joke! I want to grab one of my well dressed business passengers and hug them and make them celebrate with me, i would buy them all a drink (there's only 12 of us) but our plane is to small and has no beverage service - what a shitty plane!

blah, blah, blah, Washington is boring, it's raining, i get soaked walking from the broken tiny plane with no beverage service that can't even pull up to the terminal... fastforward!

I'm on a plane to London and I've scored an aisle seat. woo hoo! This plane is quite different from the last. There are 9 people in each row and 49 rows, plus 11 flight crew, I had a lot of time on my hands so I did the math, that's more than 400 people soaring through the air. That's basically my elementary school population which is a rather sobering thought. Houston we have a problem! There's someone in my seat. My wonderful, prime real estate aisle seat is occupied by a man with a kidney condition who requested the aisle and didn't get it, no problem I tell him, the seat is all yours. I'm small enough that it doesn't make that large of a difference to me and being mildly uncomfortable for 7hours of my life isn't really going to make that big of a difference anyway... this is my though pattern until 5 hours in to the flight when numb-nuts infront of me has his seat fully reclined, my bottom is asleep, I need to pee and Mr. kidney problems is sound asleep. I'm quite certain he also ate my bag of pretzels but we won't go there....

Anyway, a few hours later all 400 of us land safely and soundly in London, I make it through customs, and the adventure begins!

Where am I going? How will I stay in touch?

Tomorrow I fly to London.  I'm excited, and nervous, and convinced that I'm forgetting to do a million things.  I only have bits and pieces of a plan and I can think of hundreds or reasons why I should not be going, but what it all boils down to is that this is something I need to do.  I am not happy sitting in my little corner of the world simply wondering what is going on "over there."  I must go see for myself. 

This is the plan as of right now.  I must emphasize the right nowness of this statement, my plans seem to change almost hourly.  But I feel that I should put some semblance of a plan here to give people an idea of what I'm doing.

October 28th ->  arrive in London. I'm couchsurfing with a lovely couple Nana and Paul, they've been nice enough to open up their home to me for an entire week and have offered to show me around.  Through the couchsurfing (CS) website I also got in contact with John Tisdale an american, stationed in Afghanistan, who will also be visiting London while I'm there.  We're meeting that afternoon outside of the British museum.  Together we will see sites, drink beer, and explore the city.  It will be fantastic.  Last night it also occurred to me that my friend from college, Delly Dyer, was living in London.  I quickly contacted her on Facebook and we'll be meeting up.  It's a small world and the Cre Comm mafia has international borders. 

October 4th ->  catch a bus to Paris.  I saved a lot of money by booking in advance and taking the bus not the train (my ticket cost only 10 euros).  The trade off?  The trip takes 9 hours.  Yuck.  I arrive in Paris very late but have a couch for two nights with another wonderful couple I met off of CS.  

October 7th -> This is not certain yet but I have been invited to go and study/work with an artist in Southern France with full room and board.  This makes me very excited.  I will follow up in a later post once I have more information.

October 15th ->  This is where the plan begins to unravel.  Maybe another week in the south of France, perhaps moving quickly onto Barcelona.  After a few weeks in Spain I'll head to Portugal, Morroco (a mutual friend of Steve and I will be there for Christmas), over to Italy, Greece, Turkey, up into Eastern Europe and maybe, if I'm not completely broke, into Northern Europe.  

Ambitious?  yes.  But, I'm probably only going to do something like this once, so why not dream big?

Now the real question:  How can you keep in touch with me? 

1. You can text me.  I can receive unlimited text messages.  If you're thinking of me for any reason, please please please text me.  I won't answer but know that it will make me very happy to hear from you. 
2. I can text you, but I only get 50/month, so you probably won't get a text from me saying "hey, what's up?"
3. I'll be sending postcards through a fabulous website hippopost.com.  Lame name, but fantastic concept.  By selling ad space on postcards they cover the cost of printing and postage, allowing you to send free postcards.  
4. Email. 
5. Facebook.
6. This blog.  Please comment on my posts... even if it is to tell me that I'm a big lame-o, or that I've said "wonderful" twelve times in a single post.  

However you get in touch with me it will be 'wonderful' to hear from you!

Packing

I'm a chronic overpacker.  I pack too much of everything everywhere I go.  Even for the grocery store, I bring extra bottles of water, too many bags, gum, sunscreen, umbrella, you name it, I bring it.  This is why I have a 'purse' larger than most carry on luggage.  I know it's a problem, so why do I do it?  Well, it goes without fail that I always end up forgetting something.  I may have Band-Aids, granola bars, and an extra pair of shoes, but I've probably forgotten my cell phone or my wallet.

So, imagine the challenge I find in packing a single backpack for a trip that will take me an undetermined amount of months, through multiple countries and varying climates.  Have I met my maker?  

It turns out, I haven't!  In fact, I have a lot of room.  Too much room. More room then I should have...

What am I forgetting?  

Perhaps nothing.  The knowledge that I'm going to have to carry all of this wonderful and necessary, "I simply can not live without it" stuff on my back, across an entire continent has a very sobering effect on a girl.  

That being said, I have yet to pack my wallet or my cell phone, or my running shoes, or my camera, or my towel, or an extra pack of gum, or sunscreen, or the kitchen sink....

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie… you're in Italy.

This is the First of the three places Ive been most looking forward to. I fly into Sicily and take a bus from Trapini to Palermo with my jaw hanging open the entire way. Beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful, amazing, I think Im in love. The guy behinde me is really getting a kick out of this. Im like a little kid who has to pee, I cant sit still for a second. Im all over the place. Hes really sweet and points out things of interest, and we Italish our way through a conversation. Everyone here is really sweet actually. At least the men are. Except the guy Im supposed to be staying with. Hes pretty creepy. I know I need to find a new place. I explain my situation to bus boy over a beer with some of his friends and they agree that I cant stay there. Bus boy insists that I stay with him… i consider this but end up spending the night in a convent instead. This isnt entirely my choice, but it is where I end up, I dont know whats going on but I know that Im safe. The nuns dont speak English, I try asking about curfew and they bring me a glass of water, I ask about the bus and they make my bed and tuck me in. This is a sweet gesture but its only 7pm and Im not exactly tired.
Later I find some english speaking students who help me out and explain things to me. Everyone is so so so so so nice. Sicily is so lovely and I dont want to leave, but I have to opportunity to work as a nanny near Rome. They want me to start ASAP and I wouldnt mind a few extra Euros, so the next day Im on a train to Rome.

I plead temporary insanity. I forgot one important detail when I took on this nanny role… I dont like kids. She is two and a half, speaks five languges, has blond hair, big blue eyes and we got on just fine until I found myself dangling from a bedsheet out the second story window of a tuscan villa. Sounds like a story I made up, doesnt it? I didn^t.