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.
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