So, as an afterthought of the trip (and as a way to cope with an 11 hour plane flight home), we thought we would let you in on some of the terms and expressions created and used frequently throughout the trip. You can fully expect that all of these will come home with us, and will be used on a day to day basis, so get used to it. To our valued blog followers, thanks again for reading, and please feel free to use these as your own (our gift to you……Chong, Kevin, we won't call you out).
*Please note that all of these are pronounced with an extremely strong southern accent. Think Huck Finn combined with Pat Neely.
Sauce: This word takes on several meanings, but only has one pronunciation "Tsaused" (silent T, think General Tso's Chicken). First, sweat. ex.) "Running to catch that train got me all sauced up," or "check out that back sauce." Second, alcohol. ex.) "That guy had to know we were all sauced up after we cursed him out." Third, actual edible sauce. ex.) "I want my Kebab with that white sauce," or "Don't get cheap on me with the sauce."
Cane: Pronounced "Khan-KNEE" often raising your voice an octave pronouncing the second syllable. This was used anytime Joe or myself saw a dog. Any dog. It could be an actual dog, porcelain dog, book with a dog on the cover, etc. For those who don't know, "Cane" is the italian word for "dog" and is also one of Joe's dog's names (it has several names). People outside of Italy were a bit surprised/frightened/creeped out when they were out walking their dog, and heard us yell "Caaannneeeeeeee" before Joe took a picture of the dog (he literally took a picture of almost every dog we saw on the trip, apparently surprised that they have those in Europe too).
Dawgs: Not to be confused with the term above, the use of this expression began one fateful day when I dropped the line "My dawg's are barkin'." Most of you know this expression to mean "my feet hurt." Joe, having never heard the expression before, went running with it, and quickly started saying things like "the dawg's are a bit chatty right now," and "my right dawg feels like he got run over by a bus last night" This continued throughout the trip. Nick: "How your dawgs feelin' today?" Joe: "Yippety yap yap yap!!" The words "foot" and "feet" was never used again.
When In Rome: This expression, although extremely common, began being used in Spain (ironically), and was used to justify pretty much anything. For example, "Should we order the snails?" was quickly answered with "When in Rome." Or "should we take this many shots of absinthe?", you get the idea. It was appropriate that we ended the trip in Rome, although this was never planned. As a side note, this is the only expression used during the trip that was spoken without a heavy southern accent.
Rocked Up: This expression literally means "I have an erection." Of course, this term was rarely used in the literal sense. For example, "I'm rocked up just thinking' about that Tiramisu from last night." There was also a remixed version of the popular song "Locked Up," originally by R&B artist Akon, the lyrics of which we will not share.
Tobacchi: Pronounced "Ta-BACK-ee" and used with a heavier than usual southern accent. When we hit Italy, we started seeing small shops with the label "Tobacchi" which we immediately associated with "wacky tabacchi," aloud. We may have (drunkenly) advised some possible locals to stay away from the wacky tobacci while passing these shops. As it turns out, these were actually small mini mart's that sold candy bars, snacks, and bus tickets (although this did not stop our previous usage of the word).
J's: This was the nickname that the "Euro" was dubbed. As the story goes, Joe felt that everyone we met pronounced "Euro" like the word started with a J (for example, Juro). For the remainder of the trip, the word "Euro" was never spoken, it was only referred to as J (for example, "I was going to buy that leather wallet over there but that Indian fella wanted 25 J's for it!!"). The letter J was also expanded on at certain times. For example: Waiter: The house wine is 30 Euro's per bottle. Response: 30 Jiggas?!)
70's Big: This expression is admittedly not created by myself or Joe, but is actually the name of a website (www.70sbig.com) that is all about weight lifters from the 70's who were huge. As you can imagine, we did not use the term strictly for guys who looked like they could bench 400 lb. (in fact, I'm pretty sure the only time we used this one on a guy, it was on a bouncer in Switzerland….I'm not gonna lie, he was huge). It was spread evenly to monuments, dogs (hence, the German Shepard, which in Germany is called a Shepard), girls, meals, etc. To be honest, the majority of people in Europe are skinny; you rarely come across someone who is overweight. Therefore, we needed to start getting creative (Germany example: "This bratwurst is 70's big").
Kebab: Properly pronounced "Keh-BOB" (the "BOB" part needs to be pronounced like the guys from the "Da Bears" SNL skit. Please youtube this if you have never seen it). As it turns out, Kebab and Felafel are the official international tourist food. Every single city we visited had an abundance of Kebab joints, all of which provided good, cheap meal alternatives for budget days. The best Kebab of the trip, however, was tasted in Brussels. Imagine a sub roll filled with heaps of the juicy, gyro like meat, belgian frites (french fries), onions, tomatoes, feta cheese, and white garlic sauce (Tsause). Incredible, and only 3.50 J.
Unfortunately for this blog, Rome is the last stop on the trip. If you’ve been keeping up with the blog up to this point, you’ve probably had enough of the phrases “best we’ve ever,” “most ridiculous,” and “then we pounded some Paprika Pringles.” To be honest, so am I. Rome deserves so much more of an eloquent description than I could ever give but here’s my attempt…
Getting off the train in Rome, I was hating life. How could one possibly hate life while on the last stop of a month long eurotrip? Try being on the third day of strep throat with no medicine and in a city with cold, dry air.
After settling into our hostel and stopping by a nearby pharmacy to pick up lozenges and chloroceptic spray, we set out to explore the ancient city on foot. Totally underestimated the size of the city. Every other stop we’ve had we were able to get everywhere either by foot or by metro. Rome, the ancient city that it is, doesn’t have a very elaborate metro system and only has two lines, neither of which goes anywhere a tourist would like to visit. That being said, we did the best we could to visit all of the free attractions we could on our train shortened first day.
First stop was the massive Trevi Fountain. It might as well have been called the Fountain Where Asains Take Photos of Themselves in Different Poses. By the time we forced our way to the base of the fountain we felt like we were in an old school kung-fu movie where we had to karate chop and roundhouse kick our way back to freedom. After a narrow escape, we headed to the Pantheon. When we arrived, I began to catch a whiff of the common theme in Rome; everything is huge. You could easy tell how the famous columns of the Pantheon we’ve all seen in history books just demanded respect from the people who passed through them into the giant domed inside. After marveling at the intimidating architecture of the Pantheon, we began walking aimlessly back towards the hostel, in hopes of finding a panini spot along the way. Long story short, we walked about three miles from our hostel, then a mile south, then three and a half miles back to our hostel.
After such a long workout, we figured large amounts of carbs were very much deserved. Two bowls of pasta later it was time to explore the Roman nightlife. Luckily for us, we stumbled upon the Roman version of Total Wine and were able to secure a bottle of Smirnoff for 7 Euros (cheapest bottle we’ve bought all trip). After forcing sip after sip of Fanta/Vodka down the strep throat and then getting a quick Italian lesson from an Italian roommate, it was time to head out. When we get to the club, Akab (one of Rome’s most upscale clubs we were told), there is no line. There is just a crowd of people gathered around, trying to get to the front. In front of that, there is a (huge) bouncer selecting attractive females out of the crowd and allowing them entrance to the club.
After a quick 20 euro bribe from Nick, we were in. Not long after we entered the club it was easy to see why there was no line. This was Rome's elite. The club was filled with gorgeous women and men dressed a lot nicer than we were. Overall, it turned out to be a fun night (first and only club we went to that didn't play house music #lovedit). When we got home from the club, we decided it would be a good idea to Skype our lovely girlfriends, but when the internet stopped working 3 minutes into the video chat, things got interesting. Long story short we argued with the staff (who we thought were Asian and unable to speak/understand English) using words we'd rather not repeat and then gave up and went to bed.
Waking up the next morning was rough. Our heads were pounding, my throat was just about raw and to make it worse, the staff at the front desk was the same as the night before #awkward. Deciding that we needed to beg for forgiveness after our the previous night's actions, we figured it would be a good time to go see the Vatican (side story: before going to the Vatican, I went to a pharmacy and explained to them I had strep throat and lozenges/chloroceptic spray weren't working. The pharmacist then asked me "Do you want antibiotics?" "Uhhh, yes!!" Next thing you know I had a box of Amoxcicilan and was good to go #whatissobadaboutsocializedhealthcareagain?) Today though, instead of walking, we took an "open air" bus tour around the city in order to get there. As the bus pulled up, I was definitely surprised by the size of its' entrance. Nick had already been to the vatican before and knew what to expect, but I hadn't even Google Image searched what it looked like and had no idea what to expect. After waiting in almost 45 minutes worth of lines, we were in the church. It was huge. Biggest church in the world and elaborately cloaked in huge ornate statues, sculptures, and paintings on the inside. Coolest part to me was the gigantic altar, surrounded by four pillars taller than the ones we had seen at the Pantheon.
Next up was what I had been waiting for the whole time in the Vatican, the Sistine Chapel: Michaelangelo's Masterpiece. To get there you have to pass through the Vatican Museum, which we breezed through (a guide told us that if you stopped and looked at every piece in the museum and church for one minute, it would take you 13 years….so we were happy with our time) because as we said before, you can only look at so many portraits and sculptures of people from the neck up before they all look the same. If you're not a Michaelangelo supporter before the chapel, you definitely will be afterwards. The celling depicts 9 events from the book of Genesis with the most famous being the Creation of Man which lies at its' center. After this, we both agreed that it is pretty tough to call anyone else "the best artist ever" besides Michaelangelo (the man painted the ceiling standing up, looking upwards for hours on end!). After absorbing enough of the truth we hopped back on the bus and rode out the rest of the tour. By this time we were spent and decided it was time for a quick siesta before we headed out for another night of debauchery.
We had met a promoter earlier who had convinced us into a pub crawl later in the night, but when we arrived at the meeting point, we were supremely disappointed. As we walk up we notice that we are the only people who have showed up for this so called pub crawl. The promoter, noticing our lack of excitement, reassures us with a "Bro tonight's shaping up to be a sick party" and we quickly decide he's full of shit and seek out entertainment elsewhere. About 3.5 minutes of searching later, we decide to sit down for a nice dinner instead. This turned out to be a hell of an idea because it would eventually turn out to be the 'best dinner of the trip' up to that point.
Appetizer consisted of fried artichokes (I'm a huge fan of these, Nick had never had them before. After he was hit with a taste of the truth, he became a believer) while our primi pattis were both pasta dishes. I chose spaghetti with a tomato basil sauce and fresh swordfish (swordfish may be my new favorite fish). Nick went with veal stuffed ravioli in a mushroom cream sauce (I must admit, I don't care for mushrooms or veal normally, but his dish was phenomenal). Now that we were 'normal full' it was time for our second pattis. I had two breaded chicken breasts in a garlic cream sauce with mashed potatoes (imagine an orgasm for your taste buds). As I wrote this I asked Nick what he got that night: "I honestly don't know…breaded veal with parmesan and pecorrino all over it." At this point we were completely stuffed, so it was time for desert: homemade tiramasu, with the description on the menu "lifts you up," #getlifted. Solid meal. Solid decision to skip the "sick pub crawl." When we got back to the hostel, the same night staff was working. Feeling bad, I apologized to the guy for cussing him out in verbiage he probably couldn't understand and we made peace. He loved us the rest of our stay. Weird.
The next morning I woke up early, super excited for the day's big event; the Roman Forum and the Coliseum. After we had passed by it on the first day, I knew it was going to be my favorite stop of the trip, and it was. When we got there we were sold on a 25 euro tour that gave us an english speaking (important) tour guide for the Coliseum and then the Forum (#wortheverypenny). Our tour guide for the Coliseum was deceivingly knowledgable. He gave us incites to what a day at the Coliseum would usually consist of. First of all, the Coliseum isn't so aesthetically pleasing in today's world because of pollution, but in its' heyday it was made of gorgeous white marble (imagine going to a stadium that holds 50-60 thousand people that's made of all white marble). The first people to arrive to the Coliseum were children who came in the mornings to see the 'hunting' events (basically they'd bring in exotic animals from Asia and Africa, throw them in the middle of the stadium with fake hills and trees, and then let hunters pick them off while sitting safely above in the stands). Then later would be the gladiator events Russel Crow made famous years ago (he said Gladiator was the best depiction of real life events at the Coliseum he had seen). The most fascinating part of the stadium to me was the technology involved.
Top 3
- The 50-60k person Coliseum could be evacuated in 8-10 minutes (imagine evacuating Doak Campbell or Raymond James in 8-10 minutes, yea right)
- The entire floor would sometimes be flooded on purpose so that they could simulate battles at sea between waring battleships (#insane).
- They had the first evidence of hydraulic lifts, which they used to bring animals (even elephants!), gladiators, and misc items (trees, hills, scenery, etc) into the stadium from down below and even back and froth across the stadium. #mindblowing
After leaving the coolest place on earth, we headed to the Roman Forum. Good thing we had a tour guide (side note: we had a tour by the guy who does the voice overs for VH1's Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous) for this because there's only about a fifth of the actual structures left so if you don't have anyone to tell you what you're looking at you'll just be stuck wondering why anything is important.
My two favorite parts of the history packed forum
- Old dining hall where the emperor would hold massive dinners, sometimes up to 50 course meals. The kicker? If you couldn't eat all 50 courses, the emperor would verbally harass you in front of your peers, making you go outside and have a slave force a feather down your throat so you could throw up and continue eating. Picture what the people who didn't need to throw up looked like…..yea, probably pretty similar to us.
- Don't remember his name (they all sound the same after a while) but this one emperor had his own stadium in his back yard where he would hold events similar to the Coliseum. Think about all the fancy shit people boast to have in today's world….no one has a personal stadium in their back yard!
After finally saying goodbye to the best monuments of the trips, we needed a siesta.
I had all plans on going out at the end of the night, even if I had to force every mixed drink down my nearly raw strep throat, but when we started googling places to go, we noticed a common theme. Rome gets pretty gay on Saturday nights. All of the places our travel book had told us to try came with a disclaimer, "conforms to a gay-friendly environment Saturdays." Frustrated with finding a place to go and worried with choosing the wrong place, we decided to get some food instead (my throat loved this decision (pause)). We confide in our travel book and it directs us to a place described as "a local staple with dirt cheap prices." They sure weren't lying.
You're probably fed up with reading about how much we loved the food so here are the SparkNotes
Appetizer 1: Bruschetta (best of the trip at the time)
Appetizer 2: Pecorino cheese (best cheese of the trip, even better than Cabrales bleu cheese in Spain, which is hard for me to say)
Primi patti (split): Sausage and mushroom pizza
Joe's Segundo Patti: Spaghetti Carbonara
Nick's Segundo Patti: Gnocci with meat sauce
Desert: Tiramisu for each of us
The last day of Rome and ultimately the last day of our trip we used to do some last minute sight seeing of what we had missed (Vatican and Coliseum each took up most of the day in which we saw them). Spanish Steps, Roman Capital, and a few random churches later, we were spent. Time for one last siesta.
The last dinner of the trip was important to us, dubbed "Sunday Dinner," so we took researching restaurants seriously as well. After finding a few that looked pretty good, I got the feeling "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," meaning that since we got the best dinner of the trip at a restaurant in Rome, why not go back and see what else the restaurant had to offer? Nick was an easy sell so a few showers and a quick metro ride later, we were there. Only problem was….they weren't there….and by "they" I mean no one was there; it was closed. If I told you we were disappointed and you believed it, you probably haven't read the whole blog. Our hopes, dreams, ambitions for Sunday Dinner…crushed.
After a quick pow-wow we decided to take a taxi to a restaurant we had found on TripAdvisor.com. This would turn out to be a "good call" to say the least. For the last time all blog, dinner consisted of:
1 bottle of house wine (throat was finally feeling a little better, #thankssocializedhealthcare)
1 bruschetta appetizer: 4 pieces of bread with 4 different toppings on each, all of which were amazing
Joe's Primi Patti: Spaghetti Carbonara (best spaghetti of the trip for me, even better than the delicious black truffle pasta I had in Florence)
Nick's Primi Patti: Two-colored ravioli stuffed with veal, mozzarella and mushrooms
Segundo Patti: we each decided to go with the Osumbucco (veal shank) and mashed potatoes (not a big veal fan, but this was pretty good, one of Nick's favorite meats on the trip)
Desert: Even though we were both struggling to breathe, we got desert. I went with Tiramisu (my new favorite desert if you can't tell) and Nick had the Pistachio Panna Cotta with Nutella topping.
After dinner we reflected back on the trip and both agreed, we had done it right: we came, we saw, we ate, we drank, we partied, we ate some more, and ultimately, we concurred. This is has definitely been a trip neither of us will forget for the rest of our lives and I would just like to take a moment to thank some of the people who made it happen. First of all we'd like to thank our loving parents and supporting family, who, by allowing us to live and eat rent-free for a year, made it possible for us to save up enough money for the trip. Second our girlfriends, who made us feel wanted all trip when the rest of the world just wanted us and our beards out of their country. Hopefully they still want us when we get back, 15-30lbs heavier than we left. Next we'd like to thank YOU and everyone who read the blog. It hasn't always been fun writing, but hopefully it made you laugh at least once or twice along the way. And last but not least our beards. Without you we would never have known what it feels like to be hated, snickered and scoffed at for no reason at all. We're going to miss you. Hopefully that nice old Italian barber who shaved you off has since swept you into a cozy trash bin where you can make friends with the beards of your Italian kinsmen.
The eagle has officially landed….in food heaven. Granted, it wasn't easy getting here. First, we arrived at the train station and realized that we forgot to get directions from the station to our hostel. Second, we forgot the name of our hostel. If there was a third, it probably would have meant game over for us. The first attempt to salvage things involved walking in to a nice hotel (fully bearded) and asking them if we could use the internet for 5 minutes to pull up our hostel's information on our email accounts. Surprisingly, this went about as well as our Venetian dinner the night before. Not only did they say no, the lady working the desk looked like she was about to call security, as Osama Bin Laden's younger nephew and his American looking bearded friend had just entered the premises. She did, however, direct us to an internet point inside the subway entrance outside the door of the hotel, desperately trying to get us to leave as quickly as possible. Three Euro's later, we had our hostel information and a print out of how to get there. Eight blocks and five flights of stairs later, we were checked in and ready to explore Florence in all it's glory. Forty-five minutes later, it was dark and we realized everything except the restaurants were closed. We pondered our next move for approximately 1 minute and 12 seconds before being forced into sitting down at a restaurant and eating what could have been one of the best meals on the trip (if you push me in a corner dammit, I'll eat my way out if I have to).
My favorite part about Florence so far? The meal layout. First, you start with wine (very important). Next, you order an appetizer, which in this case was an antipasto platter topped with arugula. To say that it was tasty and delicious would be a severe understatement. Next, is what the locals call "primi piatti," which is typically either a pasta dish, rice dish, or soup. Joe ordered the black truffle tagliatelle, which was nothing short of absolutely phenomenal (if this trip was Sportscenter, it would be a top play nominee for sure). I ordered the Tagliatelle Speidino di Mare (italian for pasta with shrimp, scallops, mussels, clams, and squid). After being mildly scolded by the chef for asking for the parmesan cheese, this pasta shook me to the core (interestingly enough, there are only certain pasta dishes in which it is appropriate to top with parmesan. The chef explained that both mine and Joe's pasta was not to be topped with cheese, as it would ruin the taste of the truffle/seafood. Only pastas that contain some sort of tomatoes are to be topped with cheese, and even then, the topping is to be light). This, once again, was an automatic top play nominee. The next course that is served is the second piatti, which is your meat dish (aside: I consider myself a fairly hefty man, and let me say that if you have made it this far in an Italian meal and you're not moderately full yet, you should consider leaving whatever profession you're currently in and switch to competitive eating). Joe went with a roman chicken breast with tomatoes, while I went with the Bisteca Fiorentina, which was supposed to be a specialty of the house. Both were extremely good, most especially the Bisteca, which came out rare and was possibly the most flavorful steak I can remember eating.
Monday nights on this trip are not much for clubbing or drinking, however the wear and tear of constant traveling has officially set in. Day 1 is officially wrapped at 9:30pm.
Day 2:
After the first set alarm of the entire trip (7:30am, we deserve pats on the back), we were determined to see all that Florence had to offer….after a preliminary cappuccino and snack (chicken panini for me, waffle with nutella for Joe). Somehow we were able to cover the Duomo, San Lorenzo, Santa Croce, Santa Maria Novella, Accademia (David), Palazzo Medici, and Piazza Signoria in all of about 7 hours. Whew. Here's the cliffnotes version:
Duomo- The outside structure is one of the most incredible things you will ever see. The inside….ehh. We did, however, climb the doom bellower (460 steps) and get what was probably the best view of the entire trip, along with some of the best pictures (can anyone imagine a plank over 500 meters in the air?).
San Lorenzo: Exactly the opposite of the Duomo. Outside is pretty simple, inside is unbelievably ornate.
Santa Croce: Outside is fairly ridiculous, inside is absolutely ridiculous. Machiavelli, Michelangelo, Galileo, and Dante all have tombs (and are buried) inside the church.
Santa Maria Novella: I honestly don't remember…..it must not have made a huge impression.
Palazzo Medici: It's a palace. It's huge. Any questions?
Piazza Signoria: This was a giant square in the middle of the city, and was actually pretty cool. There is a giant stage in the middle of the square filled with at least seven giant human nudist sculptures (Renaissance), including a statue of David Replica.
Accademia: The museum was filled with paintings (we met our painting quote early in the trip per El Museo del Prado), however it does house the real statue of David. It's pretty incredible. The statue itself it probably almost 20 feet tall, if not more.
In between all of this, grown men have to eat. We prudently google'd the pizzeria where the cast of "Jersey Shore" worked, and had lunch there. Surprisingly enough, MTV picked a pretty legitimate spot for the cast to work, because the pizza was by far the best we've had all trip. We decided to pick two and split them, so that we could get as much variety as possible. We picked a pizza topped with pomodoro sauce (pizza sauce), mozzarella, hot salami, prosciutto, and sausage; alongside a pizza with pesto sauce, mozzarella and Roma tomatoes. Both were out of bounds. We also hit what was supposed to be the best gelato spot in town shortly thereafter (as our book described, "this is the type of gelato you will remember 50 years from now). No exaggeration. I honestly feel like no rhetorical description could ever do this gelato justice….it was transcendent.
After a brief siesta, we searched for a new dinner spot. After checking trip advisor, we found a place that was small, off the beaten track, and relatively cost effective. We walked about 20 minutes and found it completely empty with the door propped wide open, about an hour from closing time. The chef, standing behind the bar, took a long look at us, and about 15 long seconds later, told us they were closed. If there is a negative we have found in Florence, it would be this: immediately judged by a local, most likely due to our beards and running shoes, and scoffed at. Despite the insult, we remembered a small restaurant we found on our first day, and walked back to it. It was a small restaurant, still off the beaten path, and luckily was still low priced. We opened with a stuffed calamari appetizer, not knowing what it was stuffed with or how it would come. Turns out it was A.) Not fried, B.) Stuffed with crab meat, C.) covered with house pomodoro sauce, and D.) Officially in our top ten food items for the trip. Next, the chef decided to grace us with a pressed ciabatta prosciutto and cheese appetizer, which was also in the category of "phenomenal finger food." For Primi Piatti, we both went with the gnocchi covered in pomodoro and mozzarella, which was delicious. Second dish was italian sausage and veal scallopini, both of which were also tasty.
I think it's safe to say that Florence is a far departure from Venice in terms of landscape, food, people, and not sucking. I've always heard the expression "the Tuscan sun" used frequently with almost a cleansing connotation. I don't know about that, but I can tell you that the Tuscan sun turns out some outrageously good food.
Day 3:
Day 3 was very much a chill day. We slept in, got cappuccino, walked to the Palazzo Pitti (officially the only site in Florence we had not seen yet), ate lunch, took a nap, and ate dinner. Food-wise, lunch was pizza and dinner was pasta. Pretty standard Florentine fare. The most time we spent doing anything was probably sitting in the shaded area under the Palazzo, which was a gathering spot for students, travelers, and locals to relax. It was here that we reflected back on the trip for the first time, and came up with a list of "Eurotrip Superlatives." They are as such:
Largest International Population: Asians (they……are…….everywhere)
Ethnicity with the funniest picture poses: Asians (we saw a group all doing mickey mouse ears for a picture with their hands….enough said)
Country least knowledgable about the damaging effects of smoking: Spain (you can't walk a block without catching emphysema)
Country most knowledgable about the damaging effects of smoking: Switzerland
Country with the most attractive females: Spain
Country with the least attractive females: Czech Republic
Country with the nicest people: Switzerland
Country with the most assholes: Every country except Switzerland (Americans are scoffed at worldwide)
Country with the sexiest language: Italy
Country whose language sounds like European trash: Czech Republic (imagine listening to a Russian guy who's really, really drunk)
Country most resembling heaven: Switzerland (If there's skiing in heaven, it's probably going to look a lot like Switzerland)
Country (or city) most resembling hell: Venice (water is everywhere, you never know where you are, you have no idea how to get home, ever)
Country with the best food: Italy/Spain (this is a complete toss up…..the debate will live on forever)
Country with the worst food: Czech Republic (we ate a lot of Kebab)
City I would revisit first: Munich (beer halls are where it's at)
City I will never go back to: Venice (fool me once, shame on me…..fool me twice, Venice sucks and I should've talked Joe into cutting it off the list)
Going in to this trip, Florence was the spot I was most looking forward to hitting. The way the city is able to straddle the cultural line between contemporary and traditional is something I am unable to explain, it has to be experienced to be understood.
The train from Munich to Venice was some of the best sleep I’ve had in days. Slept like a baby with rum in his bottle. Refreshed as ever, we got off the train excited to explore the land of our ancestors, Italia. Though we soon found out navigating the streets was going to be tough, we managed to find our hostel off the map in decent time, only going the wrong way once (if you’ve been to Venice, you can understand how much of an accomplishment that is). But when we arrived to a closed door and an unanswered doorbell at the hostel (7:15am), we learned the hard way that the people here don’t get up as early as we do.A woman downstairs informed us (in Itanglish) that the owner of the hostel doesn’t get to the hostel until 9:00am #sweeeeeet.
2 Hours Later
We put our bags down in the hostel and head out on a quest to find Saint Mark’s Square. I say ‘quest’ because navigating Venice is ridiculous (#1 understatement of the blog so far). Combine the multitude of streets, alleys, and canals with a forecast of scattered showers and you’re in for a hell of a day. Luckily for us, the square is about the only thing to do in Venice so there are signs everywhere pointing you to its’ location. The square itself was definitely the biggest square we’ve seen all trip. Picture a gigantic square of restaurants and old buildings, all surrounding the focal point: Saint Mark’s Basilica.
There was a service going on at the church when we arrived, so as you can imagine it was silent and slam packed with parishioners. As you walk in, the first thing that catches your eye is the elaborate, arched gold ceilings covered with images from what I assumed was the Bible.Although I noticed the architecture was more flawed than what we had been seeing in previous cities (arches weren’t as crisp as the flawless ones we had seen in Spain, Prague, etc), the church as a whole was one of our favorites so far.We walked out of church and it was pouring outside. Taking this as a sign from above that we needed some more of the truth, we walked back in church and sat down for a little of the service.
At this point our mood was slightly dampened (get it?) so we decided to brighten up the day the best way we know how: food…the one thing in Venice that isn’t hard to find.
Remember when I said there were signs to St Marc’s Square because it was the only tourist attraction? Yea well apparently there isn’t a huge draw to come see our hostel and there are no signs that direct you to it. Weird right?
1.5 Hours Later
After dropping our computers, passports, and train passes off at the locker-less hostel for fear of being caught in a rainstorm with no where to take cover, we stumble upon a local pizzeria selling, among other things, prosciutto filled calzones. Sold! Compared to the massive amount of calzones we’ve had in our lives (#1 being MoMo’s in Tallahassee), these ranked somewhere between mediocre and below average. Disappointed with this representation of Venetian cuisine, we decided to find a different restaurant (I’m calling these places restaurants because I don’t have another word but they’re really not restaurants; they’re places that sell food and don’t have chairs or tables for you to eat the food they serve). The “cono farcito” (Italian for “Fancy looking, average tasting calzones”) selection at the next place catches our eye and we decide to give it a try. This calzone cousin rated somewhere between average and ‘ehh, alright I guess.’ Not happy with either of these decisions and caught in a heavy downpour, we decided to sit down in a real restaurant for a glass of wine (and by ‘glass of wine’ I mean a glass of wine and a whole prosciutto covered pizza) #wearefat. The pizza ranked highest out of our lunch exploration with a solid rating of somewhere between average and kinda good.
Disappointed and completely stuffed, we figured it would be best to siesta (they do that here too, not just Spain).
2.5 hours later…
We planned to wake up, explore the city, buy some souvenirs and then stumble upon a reasonable place to eat dinner. The man upstairs, pissed that we left mass early, had other plans. His plan? Torrential downpour. This limited our selection to the closest nearby restaurant, which seemed to be busy so we had high hopes. Now let me describe the first 10 minutes in the restaurant. Walked in to Rhianna’s “Rude Boy” playing loudly around the whole restaurant.Sat down, ordered a bottle of Chianti (Italian wine, very close to tasting better than the wine we had in Spain). Read over the menus with Eminem and Nate Dogg’s “Shake that Ass” (dirty version) playing. We order our food and as soon as the waiter leaves the table, we’re serenaded by the Backstreet Boys “Show me the meaning of being lonely.” I wonder to myself, “Ok, seriously who is in charge of this playlist?!?”
After such a sub-par lunch I had high hopes for dinner. We ordered a bruchetta appetizer (very good), and sausage risotto. Risotto was the one food item I was most excited about before the trip, but from the moment it arrived on the table, I was further disappointed. As we chowed down to the reggae vibes of Sean Kingston and Mavado, we noted that it was overly soupy and tasted far too much like chicken stock. Put it this way, if this was presented on ‘Chopped’ or ‘Iron Chef,’ the judges wouldn’t even have eaten it. For whatever reason, we figured desert would be better, and surprisingly enough it was. We ordered the tiramisu, which we were told was homemade. It was delightful. After dinner it was still raining pretty hard so we figured we’d run and pick up a bottle of wine at the corner store across the street and then run back to our hostel. We run across the street…closed (8:45pm).
Day 2 in Venice started out a lot better than Day 1. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky…yet. We made it back to St Marc’s Square to see what it looked like without the cloud cover….pretty much the same, except ~6 inches more flooded.
From there we decided to check out a famous gelato place we had read about, “Grom.” Nick’s been to Italy before and I’ve tried gelato numerous times back home, but we both had to admit: best gelato of our lives. It’s perfect texture and creamy richness was easily the highlight of the stop. I thought to myself, “Finally, something that hasn’t disappointed me in Venice.”
After gelato we decided it was time to head to Florence. Only problem was making our way to Venice’s form of public transportation: the water bus. Dead end after dead end was really starting to frustrate us…then it started raining. After about 20 minutes of searching, we finally get there. We notice that no one else is waiting for the bus and don’t understand why until an older gentleman walks up to us and informs us that the bus drivers have gone on strike. “Wow, can this city get any better?” Luckily for us the man turned out to be a professor at the university and was very understanding of our situation. He told us he was heading towards the train station and would show us how to get there. 30 minutes later, I’m sitting on the train finishing up this blog post.
You probably can’t tell but I am really not impressed with Venice…at all.
Note: After finishing the blog, the train employee who handles the tickets asked us if we had signed up for the train’s website: www.getfuckedfor50eurosbecauseyouforgottofilloutyourtrainpassbeforeboardingthetrain.com
Unfortunately, we had not yet signed up and had to fork over 25Euros/person.
Disclaimer: Listen people, Germany is known for several things, one of the most prominent being sausage. This is not a mystery. I realize that as a man writing about being excited about, eating large portions of, and being visibly excited to shop around for sausage, some awkward moments can arise. I am asking for a little maturity from our dedicated followers (which I know is a lot to ask from some of you) in this matter, as the focus of this post revolves around two grown men pounding sausage for hours on end, and all innuendo regarding this and related issues is purely circumstantial. Thank you in advance, and have a wonderful day.
So the problem (some of you may have noticed) with the latest blogs is that we write about a particular city 2 or 3 days after we've left, and somehow those 2 or 3 days feel like months once we sit down and begin to write. Because Germany holds such a special place in my heart (and by heart, I mean stomach), I've decided to keep this thing up one day at a time. This way we don't get bogged down having to write about multiple cities in one sitting, giving us more time to eat.
Day 1:
After a late night Skype session, I went up to the room after Joe and the rest of our roommates were already asleep and searched for my top bunk (never go with rock). The only one that was open was the top bunk over the bed next to the one Joe was sleeping on. Why is this important, you ask? Joe, assuming that I was directly on top of him (please read disclaimer above) decided to wake me up with violent kicks to the bottom of my bed, which turned out to be our innocent roommate's bed.
Our first priority once we were awake was breakfast. Typical Bavarian breakfast usually includes a white veal sausage with some sort of pretzel roll. This turned out to be the best breakfast we've had all trip. The sausage was served with a sweet grain mustard sauce that was, in the immortal words of Guy Fieri, "out of bounds." After breakfast, we toured around the main square in Munich, which was castle and cathedral heavy much like Prague. The only noticeable difference was the marionettes standing in the gothic windows of the cathedrals, rather than gargoyles springing from the castle wings and/or saintly sculptures adorning the arches. Somehow we veered off the beaten path and ran smack dab into a full blown sausage market. Vendor after vendor sold some of the most ridiculous looking sausage these eyes have ever seen (pause, disclaimer), along with some of the other cured meats that we ran into in Spain. After the long line of sausage vendors, the cheese and wine markets followed (in case you're wondering, I personally picture the entrance into heaven much like this series of events/street vendors ((second aside: I think you can picture heaven any way you like. Just because my heaven may be a little untraditional doesn't mean it's any more or less likely than anyone else's idea of heaven. Please reference "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby" with any questions)).
Out next mission: beer. Munich is apparently one of the beer capitols of the world, and after Belgium and Prague it had some large shoes to fill to crack the top two. After some light research, we found out that German beer is broken down into roughly four categories: Dulles (50-50 mix of beer and lemonade), Pilsner (light but still full flavor), Bock (dark) and Dopplebock (extremely dark). The amount of alcohol in each beer was relative to the darkness of it (as our book described, dopplebock's are only meant for those searching for "severe inebriation"). After some subway and S-Bahn rides, we arrived at our first Biergarten, fully quipped with waitresses in full Bavarian garb and quart glasses of beer. We ordered the house Pilsner to start off lunch, and then followed with Bratwurst with sauerkraut and beer gravy (my lunch) while Joe went for the Vienna Sausages and potato salad. Both meals were absolutely ridiculous. After lunch we were stuffed to the brim…..so we decided to go ahead with a quart of dopplebock to end off the afternoon, which was delicious.
After a little siesta (the Spanish lifestyle is something we have brought with us to each country we've visited), we headed out on the town looking for some dinner and beer. Usually we would go light and sample some of the local nightlife, however Thursdays in Munich are apparently like Mondays in the states, so we made the executive decision to have a quiet night in. We polled the reception desk at our hostel for a local, traditional German restaurant, and they led us to a microbrewery down the street from our hostel. Joe's order: Pork Knuckle with potato and bread dumplings served with beer gravy (pork knuckle was ridiculous….dumplings were a little weird). My order: Weinerschnitzle with rousted potatoes (for those who don't know, weinerschnitzle is a breaded veal cutlet….it was tasty). The house pilsner was, in my opinion, the best beer we have had the honor of tasting all trip. It was perfectly balanced, and somehow tasted hoppy and floral at the same time (beer talk for "really, really good").
Day 2:
Day two started off strong with a trip to the market for some breakfast sausage before our walking tour of the city. Joe, taking the reigns on the meal, decided to buy 100 grams of Cabrales Blue Cheese (cheese of choice for celeb chef Bobby Flay) and add it to a sausage sandwich from one of the vendors in the market. I can officially say that Joe has been inducted to the fat kid hall of fame (along with myself, Brett Frierson, Troy Frierson, and Nick Castellano Sr.), because the sandwich was nothing short of phenomenal (which is probably why we (and by we, I mean me) ordered a second sandwich shortly after finishing the initial sandwich). After this superfluously large meal, we met with the rest of our tour group in the main square of Munich. The tour covered a couple churches (one of which was the church the current Pope served at before taking his charge), the most famous Biergarten in Munich, and several historical landmarks from World War II (as we were informed, Munich was the site for Hitler's creation of the Nazi Party, enough to give goosebumps to anyone). One of the last stops was a giant bellower that tourists were able to climb to the top of to get a completely unimpaired view of Munich. What was the catch? No elevator and the steepest, narrowest staircase ever created by man. A fifteen minute stair climb later, we were at what could be the most picturesque spots of the trip. You were able to see all of old Munich, with the German Alps deep in the background.
After the tour, our dogs were barking something fierce, so we decided to take a quick respite back at the hostel before heading out to dinner. Our dinner destination was picked long before the break, however, as we passed a Hard Rock Cafe during the walking tour, and needed one last slice of Americana before plunging into the Italian culinary abyss. After days and days of foreign foods, sometimes it's just comforting to sit at an American restaurant, filled with a decently large amount of American people, and split a jumbo combo appetizer (onion rings, southwestern egg rolls, buffalo wings, chicken tenders, and potato skins) alongside a pulled pork nacho plate.
Prior to our night out, we decided to play it smart and pick up alcohol at the supermarket before going to the club, in order to avoid exorbitant drink prices. We asked a man who could possibly be included in the "hobo" category of Munich citizens where we could find the cheapest alcohol, and he directed us to a small market where we found a bottle of whiskey for 6 Euros and 2 Liter bottles of diet soda for 0.69 Euros. While we tried our damnedest to force down the diet coke/whiskey mixture, we asked the reception desk where the best place to go out was on Friday nights. He informed us that there was an area just outside the center of town where something like 25 dance clubs and bars were jammed in the same square, which was obviously right up our alley. The guy wasn't exaggerating either: as soon as we got off the train, we see a lit of area and walk in to what was like a club/bar smorgasbord. After polling the bouncers as to which club played the least amount of house music (aside: at this point, if I hear anymore house music I might literally throw someone out a window), we chose a club that played 80's, 90's, and current hits. The bar was completely full of locals, which was very interesting to see. Joe and I quickly realized that we are lucky in Tampa to live in such an urban atmosphere that blends latin, italian, and african american culture. I can honestly say that I have never seen such a large gathering of goofy dancing white kids in my life. Nevertheless, the club was fun, and the beer was plentiful.
At the end of the day, Munich really is one of the top cities we have visited. The food, culture, beer, sights; everything was incredible to see and experience. As long as you're not a vegetarian and/or you're ok with drinking beer in large quantities, anyone who visits Munich is guaranteed to be blown away. As this stop on the trip comes to a close (as the trip itself is simultaneously coming to a close as well), I can say whole heartedly that we are staring to appreciate the magnitude of the trip, and Munich is a perfect example of a place that I feel honored to have been able to see, and will never forget.
As I sit here in the common room of the worst hostel so far, house music blaring in the surround sound speakers, you can imagine how much I'm ready to move on to Munich. While I absolutely hate this hostel, I definitely like this city. Since we got here, we've been constantly in awe of our surroundings. The city's mix of gothic, baroque, renaissance, and moorish architecture has quite frankly blown our minds.
We decided to take Prague as a 'recuperation' city, i.e. no partying, no expensive hostel, and no unnecessary eating (well, almost). We found the cheapest hostel we could find and quickly discovered why it was so cheap. Let me paint the picture: 8 bed, male dorm, community shower/tub across the hall, thin mattress that does little to hide the metal frame it lays on, and a common room with shitty wi-fi and CONSTANT house music beating the block down at all hours of the day/night.
Moving on, we decided a good way to get the full run of the city while still staying on budget was to take a free walking tour through the main sights of the city. Our tour guide, a Czech native named Clara, chauffeured us to all type of interesting landmarks, giving us the story behind each one. While all of the sights were a delight to look at, the religious legends of their origins were the best parts. First she took us to this courtyard that we would've usually breezed through without paying the least bit of attention and told us that it used to be where the city of Prague would hold executions (mainly of religious heretics). Next she took us to a giant astronomical clock that had been built by a famous clock-maker. The king at the time wanted it to be the only one in the world so he had the man blinded in an attempt to have him never build a similar one again.
The next three stops stole the show. First was one of the most ornate churches I've ever seen in my life. The legend behind this church was that there used to be a statue of the virgin Mary in the middle of the church. One day, someone came in a tried to steal jewelry off of Mary's neck but she reached up, grabbed the man's hand and wouldn't let go. The people decided the only way to free the man's hand was to remove it, by sword. Then, to prevent future attempts of theft, they hung his hand in the back of the church (yea….it's still there today in the back of the church #awesome). After church it was off to the Charles' Bridge, one of the biggest attractions in Prague, as well as the city's oldest bridge. Similar story here, people go against the church (Roman Catholic), they get thrown off the bridge, you get the gist. Last stop of the tour was the Prague castle. Wow. I don't know where this castle rates on the "World's Biggest" list but it was gigantic, dwarfing us in its' glory as soon as we walked up. Before entering, you must pass by a set of two guards who, like the royal palace in England, do not smile…..at all. Then when you finally get in it hits you, 'Holy shit, this is a real castle. Not one of those fake ones in a movie or at a theme park. The real deal.' The peaks of its' towers were covered in ornate gargoyles, lions, and old depictions of previous kings. The detail in the design was just something you can't imagine…
During the tour, Clara briefly mentioned a local bar that had cheap Czech beer on tap so we made a B-line straight there when the tour was over. Good decision. When we walk in to this cleverly named bar called "The Pub," there's hardly anyone there (3:00 pm) and a waitress tells us "Go ahead and find a seat anywhere." Now that we had a firm grasp on the obvious, we move to the back of the bar and see a set of 10 tables, each with their own beer tap in the middle of the table. We don't know much about heaven, but they have these there. How it worked was that you were able to have up to 10 users on each table, each selecting his/her seat number on the touch screen above the tap before pouring a beer. When you started pouring the beer, the tally of total liters consumed would rack up on the screen in front of you. Bad news. This quickly turned into a drinking game (they kept a tally of how many beers each table had consumed on a projection screen at the front of the bar (we were winning until a table of 7 sat down; we lost by 1 beer)) and then subsequently a reflection of the trip so far, but definitely an awesome experience.
As for food on this stop, we tried to find the local cuisine but found out that there really isn't that much here. Their big dish is goulash; basically a beef stew. Pass. So naturally, as we've done so many times before back home, we sniffed out the nearest Hooters and pounded some wings. Compared to the Hooters in Switzerland, this one blew it out of the water. Better food, better beer, better "service", the whole 9.
On a sour note, we got robbed…again. First we had our shampoo stolen in Amsterdam #timesaretough. Then, after reluctantly buying a new bottle, lightning struck again. When we got home from Hooters, we discovered that my headphones and thermal sweater were gone, as well as our shampoo and bath soap. Top that off with Nick forgetting to bring his razor and you have two grizzly, stank Americans walking the streets of Germany and Italy for the next two weeks. If you're sitting there shaking your head asking, 'Come on, how much could some shampoo and soap cost?' you must not have read the rest of the blog. The budget for Germany is slam packed with sausage (pause) and beer while the budget for Italy is packed with carb loading and wine tasting, there's just no breathing room for a 3 Juro (that's how they pronounce Euro everywhere we've been) bottle of shampoo or a 2 Juro bar of soap #timesaresupertough.
