Bologna, fiascoes, and tripping the light fantastic.

OK, the last time I wrote it was at night in Bologna at The Hotel Touring. I had the bolognese and some red house wine. Then planned to walk around but was just too tired. So I crashed and got up at 8:30, had some free breakfast buffet, showered and got dressed. I checked out and held my luggage at the hotel, and walked around. My train leaves at 11, so I got some time to kill. I walked around Bologna, which by the way is a beautiful city, it has been decreed since the 1400's that all newly built sidewalks have porticoes. So it's all covered sidewalks. It lends a really cool feeling intimacy to the city. I had coffee, went and printed my ticket at the train station, and toured a small but amazing medieval museum. I still had time so I ended up at the Irish pub and had some beers with a Londoner named Perry. We talked for a while and was joined by another English speaker from the states, Kerry Gilmore. This is not a touristy town and you don't really hear any other language than Italian. So I guess, speaking english just attracts others who speak it. We hung out for a while then went looking for some dinner, Perry was a little drunk and stopped to pee, and never was seen again. He went inside some place while Kerry and I waited, and after like 20 minutes, we decided to leave, there were several exits out of the place, so we thought he left. Oh well, nice chatting Perry. We found this little place and got some wine, and met the guy next to us who is a Canadian wine importer. Cool guy, nice dinner, I had some pasta, and for a second course about a half pound pile of cavallo tartare, fresh ground horse meat, raw, with a chicken egg on top. It was pretty tasty, really mild and light. I just finished the meal and had to bounce to catch my train. I grabbed a cab, had him wait, got my shit, and went to the station to await the train, which by the way was a half hour late.


The train finally came and I was on my way to Munich to catch a flight to Portland. I was supposed to get to Munich at 6:30am, leaving me ample time to munch on some sausage and shit in Germany. Didn't happen that way. The train was delayed 3 hours because of some fire or accident or something, so we sat at a station in northern Italy for hours waiting to go. Finally we start but don't get to Munich till 9:15. So that leaves me just enough time to hop on another train to the airport. Awesome. I get to the airport at a little after ten, check my stuff. I had to go through two metal detectors, and on the second one they found my multitool which I thought I checked. With a nice sized knife on it, I was like shit, whatever, take it. And they kept asking each other something, passing it back and forth. I'm in the background, going, take it, it's fine. And then thought, shit, I hope they don't arrest my ass. Well finally the guy hands it back and says it's OK. Really? A knife on board in my carry on is cool? It doesn't make me feel that safe, but then again, if there are any terrorists, at least I'm armed, right? Anyway I find a restaurant and throw down a couple schnitzels, some rot kraut, potato salad and some sausages, not really in the leisurely manner I envisioned since I almost missed my flight in the process, and washed it all down with a tall beer, not a bad breakfast. Mind you, I've been up since yesterday morning with but a short nap all night. I made my flight and with an hour layover in Philly I was on my way to Portland.

I landed in Portland at like 9pmish and hopped on the MAX to downtown just in time to go to Zachs place of work. It's a cool, modern, nouveau Peruvian restaurant bar. Man, the food is simply splendid. Saw my old bacon chomping jewish buddy and chatted it up. He tried to convince a table of girls that my smuggled guanciale was the saved, cured, afterbirth of his son. They were sceptical but handled the package gingerly. Silly. We went back to his house and talked for a while, but at this point I had been up for days, literally, and slammed my face into the nearest pillow. Thursday I was up early and Sarah Zach's sister came over to visit, we have an arranged marriage but I don't think it's goona work out, at least unless she dumps her currrent boyfriend, cause that just might be a little weird. Anyway, I talked to my friend Chad who was at work, and Sarah and I went down to see him, Zach was doing family stuff and would join us later. So we walk in to Produce Row restaurant bar, the original McMenamins by the way, and go out back. There's just one two top out there and a server talking to them, we made brief eye contact, and I thought to myself, she looks totally familiar, she also gave me a funny look. I thought, whatever it's just Portland. Mind you, I lived in Portland collectively for ten moist years. Which means you run into people often. Its not a very big town, and fairly concentrated, so I just thought that she was someone I met in Portland. Wrong. She walks up and says point blank, I know you. Dayna! erupts forth from my mouth, Dave! from hers, we lock in embrace just in time for Chad to walk out and say, what the fuck!? How do? Uh, I.......What? Well turns out, she is my former homemate from about thirteen years prior when I lived in Santa Cruz. And well, I haven't seen her since, until now...Trippy shit my friends, what a small west coast. Anyway we sit down and get joined by friend after friend until there is just a happy reunion of fine folks talking shit, laughing, drinking, and catching up on lots of old and new stories. It was a lovely time. Ooooh! Let us not forget that at about 8 several of us left to go to Zach's to chop up some guanciale into a fresh carbonara we hand crafted to go along with some wine and cheese he got at Pastaworks. More chatting and merriment ensued until the wee hours of the morn. The next morning I had some breakfast at Broders, the Swedish breakfast joint, with my lil' nigs Ryan Neal and his brother Erik. Fantastic food and better company. I had some baked eggs, with Swedish cheese and romesco sauce, with some of the best bacon ever on the side, and some walnut bread toast. Oh my shit, it was good. I did like a mini Portland breakfast/brunch tour while I was here, and let me tell you that Portland is an amazing food destination every bit as delicious as Vegas, often times more so, and a lot fuckin cheaper. 90% of these restaurants are one owner small joints with people that love food, its amazing man, you know you leave a place and forget cool little shit like this that you took for granted for years, dumb. But cool to come back to. I also went to Tasty and Sons, ridculous, and Pine State Biscuits, for a fried chicken, egg, bacon, cheese, and sausage gravy breakfast sandwich. Can you say dick in the dirt? Now I really can.

Anyway my time in Portland was great, I saw a lot of just really great people, and had a relaxing rainy time. It was perfect, thanks Zach and Angie, Chad and Erin, and Bryan Wolf for the hospitality. And next time you want to play the game again Bryan (is this spelled right?) I am more than willing to kick your ass again. Rum and cokes and board games=fun.

However this morning I flew to Puerto Rico, long flight brethren, where I'm sitting now in Old San Juan. Just had a mojito and a mixed seafood mofongo, smashed cooked green plantains shaped in a bowl, filled with shrimp, fish, octopus, mussels, clams, and finished in a spicy creole tomato sauce. My mouth and belly don't deserve this brand of good. Despite that I stuffed my face readily with it anyway. So good... Its nice here, tonight its like humid but 70 degrees with a nice breeze. Sweet. Tomorrow I fly to St. Thomas via Seaborne Airlines and we'll see what happens then won't we?

Leaving Italy, for now........

Well, Rome is behind me, and the future lies ahead. Lets recap shall we. I had my birthday, it was a great time. The BBQ never happened, Zizi lost his phone on the night of my birthday which I forgot about, so Tuesdee, I tried calling his ass, and no answer. I tried like three times to no avail. Getting worried about missing it, I talked to Sabrina the front desk manager at the hostel, and she was like, he'll be here in an hour, he's working. Wtf. Well he forgot about the previous schedule change because of an upcoming wedding, oh well. Anyway, the last week was cool, had some good times. Alex, one of the servers I worked with, and the least English speaking of the bunch (really he doesn't speak english, he keeps saying in question format mind you, " I like wine?" meaning, "You like wine?" he has a problem with first person shit)  anyway he has a problem pronouncing some words too, so when he greeted a five top of Canadian guys with "Hey gays! (guys)" I almost peed, and it became a running joke. Hi gays!! So funny.

 When I left Rome, I took the train to Firenze, aka Florence, just stopped for a bit, ate a 1Kg bistecca alla Fiorentina, how could one not right? Shit was tasty. Florence is awesome. It had one of the coolest markets ever. I love to cook, right? I wish I could shop in such a place on a daily basis, it was beautiful. The duomo kicked ass, just really mellow and beautiful. I was intending to head to Bordeaux, Ventimiglia, then Nice for the night train to Bordeaux. Well I've since learned that the national pastime of France is striking. God damn, these motherfuckers love it! I got to Ventimiglia with the intent of going to Nice to catch the night train to Bordeaux. Well upon arrival, guess what? the border was closed because they were on strike. So I spent the night in Ventimiglia. There was a little hotel across the street from the station, so I grabbed a room, freshened up and went for a long walk down the water front at nine pm. It was beautiful, I saw some swans swimming in the ocean, just hanging out, awesome. Its a slow little town, but still had folks dining at ten on the water. A far cry from Rome, 90% of the shit was closed, when in Rome, at that time festivities would just be getting started, and just barely at that. I walked and hit the sack early, I was still full from that monster bistecca I mowed on in Florence. I decided to catch the early train to Nice to get the mid morning train to Bordeaux. The next morning I had a pastry and some coffee to get going, it was like five, to hop on the train to Nice at 6. I get to the station all packed and ready to roll and guess what? The lady last night said the next train to Nice was at six. Nope, now its 8. Fan-fuckin-tastic! Now I get the opportunity to hang out at the station for two whole hours when I could've been checkin out sunrise on the med with some more tasty vittles than I've previously enjoyed, perfect! So I spent a rather lovely two hours chillin, and I say chillin cause it was fuckin cold; the sun didn't pop its head out till, like 8:30? Neato... Anyway finally I hop on the train to Nice, well it stops and I'm thinkin it's Nice, and almost missed my connection there because I was in Monaco, but they switched info on the overhead to French, I had no idea what was goin on. That being said, every country I've ever been to, I enjoy, and expect of myself to study enough of the language to at least survive. Well not French. I thought it would be a direct thing, and my buddy Dave has lived in France for 11 years, so I thought, I don't need to know anything, and when we hook up, I'll learn shit then. That did not work out. I got to Nice finally and the train that was in my Eurail train schedule book didn't exist. No train. It was ten, and the next train was at 6, in the morning, the next day. Another night stranded. No.. No I say.. Fuck that shit.. I went to Europecar, rented a Renault Clio, and drove 8 hours across France and made that shit that night.. Thats right, sounds badass I know, I am badass. BUT..... imagine trying to find road signs, highways, getting gas, snacks, asking directings (no map), and generally feeling like a non speaking foreign asshole the whole time. Spendid.. Actually it wasn't that bad, I left the car place and was like, shit what now? They gave me a map, but it was just for Nice. However it was big enough to show me the right (I thought) highway. A8. It worked and got me on my way. I knew I had to head to Marseilles, and well, thats about it. It gave me a few hours to figure out my next move. I stopped for gas past Marseilles, I figured my way through sense of direction, the Eurail train map and signs. Oh by the way, French road tolls are expensive and suck ass both simultaneously. Rock. I had to write down my pump number on a piece of paper for getting gas, because, I don't know french numbers. It was silly. My tactic was, guesstimate the price, and pay well over, it worked. Oh and french roadside gas station food is really great! Shit we would never find in a gas station. Let your imagination run wild with that one. Well I got there, earlier than the train could've by the way, driving though the amazingly beautiful coutryside, saw the Rhone valley, castles, and me and my buddy Dave spent a few days feasting on raclette, rabbit (which by the way is available in every market, France and Italy, big beautiful, naturally low fat, chubby bunnies, ripe for the cookin (head on), for like 7 euros, why is this shit not available in the states?, dumb, and perhaps in person, if you ask, I'll tell you about the rabbit brain I ate and fed to Dave too), fois gras, wine, beer, KFC (I know, shut up) baguettes (for something in the neighborhood of .39 euros each) and escargot. After 11 years in France he still had not had any snails, foolishness. But he loved it, and rightfully so. We spent some time walking around the Bordeaux center, which is really nice, and I had my first Croquet Monsieur. Yummy. Two days later we went to Lacanau, the famous French surf spot. Chilled out, had a few beers, and saw one of the most mind blowing sunsets in creation. Man it was just, what, the shit?, spectacular?, words can't describe that brand of world nature perfection, it really was just overwhelming. I need to come back here and hit those waves too, they looked good. The next day I did a lone adventure into town and munched on a delicacy that my buddy Eli has talked about for years. A lamb merguez sausage and french fry sandwich on baguette with mayo. So delicious... Man... really..And it was like 5 bones, AND! was huge!, Great deal. Oh by the way, a note on wine in France. The shit is cheaper then a motherfucker! Like at the grocery store, 90% is under 2 euros, Chilean, of course French, Gewurtz, Italian, name it. Its like 1.39 euro, and a million times better than fuckin two buck chuck. Amazing. Bottled water cost more. Not only would I have the biggest wine cellar in the Eastern hemisphere if I lived here, I would probably be the biggest wino as well, seriously, its ridiculous.


After my time in France I tried to get out, and believe me getting out of France is just as hard as getting in. Striking bastards. The trains are on an open ended strike, so I thought I'd fly on Tuesday. Well Tuesday starts the airline strike. Thanks at least for the heads up, right? No fuck you. It has been a nightmare trying to schedule a trip out of here. Man. I finally booked a Ryanair flight to Bologna, at least its closer, and Italians are not on strike, but had a bitch of a time trying to get a train because Trenitalia's foreign credit card system is on the fritz. Sweet, hitch hiking? shit was lookin that way. Well this morning I finally got an overnight from Bologna to Munich booked tomorrow night, and caught my flight, ya know what? I was looking out the window flying over the alps, and I thought to myself, "Italy, back to my comfort zone". Weird huh? Two months ago I didn't speak a word, but after France and such lack of communication, the culture and language of Italy is comfortable, I've become used to it, I can get by, its cool. Tonight I'm in Bologna and have already had the best bolognese ragu I've ever had. I'm storing my luggage at the hotel and spending all day cruising around Bologna, eating, seeing things, and living. I hop on my train tomorrow night at eleven and arrive at Munich at 6:30 in the am. Sausage and beer for breakfast? Yes please. But it still will be sad to leave Italy. I love it.

Happy Bidet

Yes, my birthday, I'm at work, but taking off early. Uhh, yeah. Almost gone soon from Rome on to the next thing. I'm going to see about an open ended type of deal at work, maybe I'll come back next year, who knows. But right now I'm pretty much ready to go. I think if I had a real place, where I could cook and sit on a couch it would be a more real living experience. Ya know? But enough of that. Lets see this week I just worked really, met people, talked, had some bad ass oxtail ragu rigatoni, and roasted veal breast. I've found this place thats like 5 blocks away that has more traditional Roman fare, its delicious. Very delicious, offal stew anyone? Perhaps for lunch tomorrow. Can't wait. I am going to my friend Zs house on Tuesday (he's the black Rhode Island Roman, remember?) to BBQ, he's buying I'm cooking, a semblance of normalcy, very excited about that. I think then I'll leave here Wed. morning to Florence for the day, then the night in Genoa? We'll see. On to Bordeaux after that. Then Munich. Fly to Portland, then the islands.

Pissants, racketball, and the horse you rode in on

Well, well, well... Hi... Life has been pretty routine, walking around a lot, working. School ended on Friday, so no more of that, went out last night to say goodbye to my Estonian classmate with Paul and the Swedish contigent. But it's been pretty mellow. I've been reading a lot, my sister Michelle gave me the book The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, which I really knew nothing about, so after a few weeks here, I felt like a relaxing night in and opened her up. Shit. What a great book, thanks Mish, I've been a man obsessed. It's like 650 pages or so, which I devoured in 3 days. Then the next day I bought the second, all of similar length mind you, 650-750ish pages, which I finished in 2 days, and bought and read the last one as well. I ended it last night. So basically i've been reading a great deal this last week. So if you like crime, murder mystery, intrigue books, get these and lose yourself for a while, Stieg Larsson was a fantastic author and the books are addictive. I was torn between not wanting the books to end, and wanting my life back.


Yesterday I went to Pompeii and Naples. Pompeii is amazing, the site is so huge, and the frozen people are creepy. But it was beautiful. Naples is cool, totally different feel than Rome, but tasty pizza, whats that place called in Vegas, the Naples pizza joint, it was really just like that. But I gotta admit, I think I like Roman style better. Super thin and crispy, almost like a thin cracker. The standard one person size is like 14 inches, but its so thin one person can gobble that shit right up, and believe me I have. My favorite is the Capriciosa, which has proscuitto, olives, artichoke, hard boiled egg, and sometimes salami. Sounds weird perhaps, but really, it's the shit. Also had a Naples specialty coffee called Nocello, it's espresso with sugar and some kind of cream, it was nice. What else, ohh, had some fish lasagna the other day, un-fuckin-worldly, omg, and I mean that, OMG!!, !!....!

It's Sunday at about 5, everyone going to the Abbey for football, I don't really feel like going,hmmmm. I guess i'll post this and see if I can get motivated, only a week left here, and really only can hang on weekends. I don't know, we'll see. I'll let you know, we'll learn more next post, and until then, be the ball Danny.