When In Rome...

Rome is one of the coolest cities ever. I spent 4 nights there, but easily could have seen myself spending another week roaming (haha, I'm so funny.) the city if I hadn't already booked elsewhere.

The first day I was there was spent walking around, exploring rather aimlessly. I had wanted to visit all the touristy sights, but the lines are extruciatingly long everywhere in Rome, and having woken up a little too late to beat them, I decided to take to the streets instead. I met up with a number of people I had met the previous night at my hostel, and we made our way towards the Sunday Market along the Tiber River. The market is one long street that goes on for days. No, seriously. We were there for about 2 hours, and I had to eventually turn back before I got anywhere near the end. They had everything you thought you didn't need in life - from tube socks, to costume jewelery, to fake purses and sunglasses to dress shirts. As it turned out, I actually did need some of that stuff, as I ended up walking away with a long-sleeved collared shirt. Hey, for 5 euros, you would have bought it, too.




As we walked along the river, we decided to stop for gelato. At a tiny little stand, I ordered what turned out to the best gelato I would have in 3 weeks of traveling up and down Italy. I ordered chocolate and cocunut and was rewarded with deliciousness. I love it when the coconut gelatos come with strands of real coconut mixed in. These are things I think about when traveling.



And yes, I went back to the same gelato stand. And yes, I returned later that day. I can't leave you in suspense any longer, so I will tell you that I ordered chocolate and coffee this time around. And yes, it was fantastic.

Next, we ventured towards Campo di Fiori, which is a cooler, but not as famous square as the Spanish Steps. By day, the square hosts a meat and produce market, but by day is a popular hangout for partygoers. The square is lined with bars along three sides of it, which are frequented by both tourists and Italian locals. The other side of the square is marked by restaurants. Not too shabby of a square.



After enjoying some people-watching and some sun for a little bit, we left for the Jewish Quarter. Unfortunately all the stores and restaurants were closed by the time we got there because the city was on a siesta, but we were still able to enjoy the few sights and monuments in its center.





Realizing we could gain admittance to few places at this hour, we decided to check out Tiber Island, which believe it or not, is island located along the Tiber River. The island visit was really fun because it was full of locals laying out in the sun, reading and playing weird Italian slapping games that I failed to comprehend after 40minutes of close inspection.

We had walked all over. The sun was on the precipice of setting. Siesta was about to end. It was time to eat. I know, how about the best pizza in all of Rome? Yeah, let's do that.

Pizzeria San Callisto is located within the Trestevere District, which is known as the cheap, delicious food haven of Rome. The restaurant didn't open until seven, so we we happened to be the first people served. My friend and I ordered two pizzas - a potato and sausage pizza and a vegetarian one with a tomato sauce base. As we waited (me, impatiently) for our food, we debated whether the restaurant knew Let's Go touted them as the best in all of the city. I maintained that there was NO doubt they knew, while others were skeptical. After some discussion (and for me, pondering where the hell my pizza was), we went straight to the source and asked the man who seated us.

He scoffed, and replied, "Yeah, we know about that. We were only open 5 hours last night and sold 325 pizzas."



As annoying as this guy was, I probably would have been just as arrogant if I made pizza the way his restaurant did. The potato and sausage were extremely high quality, and the only thing holding the pizza from being the best in all of Italy (that prize is still held by Restaurant da Michele for its Margherita Doble) was its lack of tomato sauce. The veggie was phenomenal as well. And the pizza was oh so cheap! God, do I love Italian pizza. It's always big. It's always delicious. It's always cheap.

After dinner we decided to walk up a ways to a hill that overlooks the entire city. We barely missed the sunset, but it was beautiful nonetheless.



Feeling unsatisfied, we hiked down to the Colliseum, which I heard is fabulous at night (Thank you, Clint.*). On our way, we picked up a bottle of wine, which made the night stroll that much more pleasant. By the time we arrived, the night sky was in full force and we were able to enjoy the Colliseum in all its glory. I sat for half an hour and took it all in, making me even more excited to enter the following morning.






*Yes, this is Mediterranean Clint.

Cliff Jumping in Ischia

Before having gone, I knew next to nothing about Ischia, which is Italian island an hour ferry away from the Amalfi Coast. My good friend Ashton and his family went last summer and have been raving about it ever since. I now know why.

I figured my two nights on the island would be laid back and quiet because I assumed I was going to be on a tiny island by myself. Wrong and wrong again.

First of all, Ischia is a huge island. Looking back, I wish I had scheduled more
than two nights there because there is plenty to keep you occupied for the upwards of a week.

I was even more off on my 'being alone' assumption. About an hour after I checked into my hostel, a group of 21 Boston College study-abroad students marched in. So much for peace and calm.



The hostel is owned by three brothers, and every night they take the entire hostel to their mother's restaurant in town for delicious food and homemade wine....at a great discount. Because the hostel was so packed due to the herd of Eagles, we had to shuttle back and forth in a van. Somehow I got the back (I mean THE BACK) of the van to myself, which I thought was a blessing until I began to feel really lightheaded from inhaling exhaust fumes. Regardless, I felt pretty good by the time I set foot on ground once the van arrived at the restaurant.

Because there were so many of us, the restaurant was completely unprepared to serve us in a timely manner. As a result, the meal ended up lasting roughly 3 hours. Don't feel toooooo bad for me though, because they kept an ever-flowing caraffe of red wine coming to the table (for a mere 2 euro/person!). Regardless, I felt pretty good by the time my food arrived in front of me.

After dinner, we went to a couple bars and clubs and partied in town.

The next day was Beach Day. We made the long trek down to the beach, and were treated to relatively warm Mediterranean waters and perfect weather. There was a really cool rock in the middle of sea, so my friend Shae and I swam out to it. Once we were there, it was like we were on our own little island in the middle of nowhere. I felt like Tom Hanks in Castaway. Except I didn't befriend any sporting equipment.

After a pleasant lunch and some more sun, we headed back towards the hostel. On the way, we came across a spot that is known for cliff-jumping. Standing between 30 and 40 feet above the waters, there was a small cliff that could be climbed by jumping from rock to rock. A number of the guys were interested, and so was I, but I was a little apprehensive at first. I debated with myself whether I wanted to go, and went through a thought process I have often found myself going through on my European Extravaganza.

I asked myself, "Will I regret it if I do not jump?"

"Yes, yes I will."

About 4 minutes later....




About 4 minutes, 6 seconds later....





The jump was awesome. I was in the air long enough to actually think about what it wsa going to feel like to land, which was an experience unlike any other. The water was cold, but it didn't even come close to mattering. All I felt was adreniline rushing through me, which soon morphed into excitement and euphoria.

After jumping a little more, we went back to the hostel and showered and changed for dinner. We found a delicious restaurant along the water, where my friend and I shared mussels and clams and a pizza which was sliced into quarters with different topppings on each section. Freaking delicious.






Our after dinner plans were a replica of the night before, and were somehow even better this time around.

By the time I woke up the next morning, it was time to head to Rome...

Positano and the Amalfi Coast

Naples was a pitstop for me on the way to the gorgeous Amalfi Coast in Italy. I spent two nights in Positano (thanks, Jessica) at a Hostel named Hotel Birkette. The hostel was really cute and the staff was extremely accommodating. There wasn't too much to do in town besides enjoying some R&R. So enjoy I did.

I met up with a friend I had originally met in Naples, and she I spent the majority of my two days in Positano together. Robin, who also happens to be from San Diego, is a fashion student currently studying in Milan. The first day we made the trek from our hostel all the way down to the beach and were greeted to perfect weather and scorching, sandy sand. After soaking up the sun, exploring the town and making sure to make a gelato stop, we were ready for dinner.



Il Grottino was one of, if not the best meal of my entire European trip. Robin and I shared two two homemade pasta dishes and a caraffe of the best house red wine I have ever had. The first dish was homemade fettucine-like pasta with fresh mussels and clams in an olive oil base. As amazing as that dish was, the other dwarfed it. On a single plate, they served us pasta misto, or mixed pasta:

- Cheese ravioli
- Potato Gnochi
- Meat Canneloni


....in an amazing tomato sauce.

It was insanely good.

This happened to be my first Italian pasta experience, and it somehow EXCEEDED my excpectations. To say it was the best pasta I had ever eaten would be a fair statement.

The next day, we made took a bus to the city of Amalfi, which is much bigger, cuter and touristy than Positano. We watched the sun set, got some more pizza (and of course gelato) before heading back to Positano for dinner.





We went to another place recommended by our hostel (I lost their business card and cannot remember their name for the life of me. Sorry.) that was just down the street. We shared bruschette, which was yummy, a bottle of wine which was good, but paled in comparison to the wine from the night before, and an amazing strawberries and ice cream dessert.



As for the entrees, Robin felt like fried fish and asked if I wanted to share that and another dish. I knew there was no chance on this earth I was going to get fried fish in Italy, so I pleasantly replied, "No, thanks." Instead, I ordered another homemade pasta dish with eggplant in tomato sauce. Remember how I said the dish from the night before was the best pasta I had ever had? Well now it's second best. The pasta was perfectly cooked and absolutely extraordinary. The eggplant was tender and full of flavor. The tomato sauce was a perfect blend of sweet and spicy. The only thing I could utter during the meal was, "I never want this pasta to end....I never want this pasta to end."

Naples: Filth, Rudeness, Pizza

After virtually 30 consecutive hours of traveling...

- Left Ios on a ferry for Athens at 4pm
- Arrived in Athens at 7 am
- Flew from Athens at 12pm
- Arrived in Bari (Italy) at 1:30pm
- Left Bari for Naples via train at 4:30pm
- Arrived in Naples at 7:30 pm
- Left Naples for neighboring Portici via train at 8:30pm
- Arrived in Portici at 9:15pm
- Arrived at hostel at 9:30pm


....I was tired.

I went to bed shortly after checking in to my hostel and woke up the next morning to explore the city just a tad before heading to Naples. Portici is a small town south of Naples, and is really cool. There's not much to see, but the weather was great and givien that it was a Sunday afternoon, there were plenty of locals roaming the town's beautiful gardens and parks. On my way I picked up my first (of thousands) Italian gelato. I decided to play it safe the first time and ordered chocolate and coffee. It was really good, but a little too melty and a little too sweet. Still, it was yummy.





After devouring my gelato, I decided to read in a park for a few hours and take in the Portici sun. It felt good. So good, that I began to doze off. When I awoke, I decided it was time for Naples.


Upon my arrival, I quickly learned Naples has 2 redeeming qualities:

1) Phenomenal pizza
2) Proximity to fun places

I was in Naples for 2 nights, and was rather underwhelmed with both its people and its scenery. The town is an absolute trash dump (I actually read an article in The Economist on the flight from Athens - at approximately hour 9 of 30 - how Naples has a huge trash problem that is affecting the city's economy.) I figured it would be bad, but what took me by surprise was the attitude and lack of concern by its residents. A saw a number of locals simply throw their trash on the ground when there were ample garbage cans around. You just don't see that kind of behavior in the US, and not really in the rest of Europe either. Get it together, Naples.

The people are also really crappy. The drivers are out of control and are not familiar with the policy of pedestrians getting the right of way. Drivers are also not fans of crosswalks. Or traffic lights.

Beyond that, the crowds were packed with locals who were nothing short of rude to me. They often stared me down until we were out of eyesight and gave me rude looks when I walked into stores or restaurants. I felt like I was an alien when I was Naples. It was quite a surreal experience.

Enough of that. Let's get to the pizza.

Naples is the home of pizza. I made sure to go to the best before anything else. Restaurant da Michele is considered to be the best pizza in all of Naples. It certainly did not disappoint. Da Michele is a tiny place on a side street in the center of town and is notorious for serving only two types of pies - margarita and marinara. Where I come from a margarita pizza comes with slices of tomatoes rather than tomato sauce, so I ordered marinara. That was an amateur move. It turns out marinara has much less sauce than its counterpart and isnt served with basil.



Despite my oversight, it was one of the best pizzas I had ever had. Not the best (that title belongs to Grimaldi's in Brooklyn), but still phenomenal.

The pizza in Italy is served quite differently than it is in the US.

- Restaurants never serve slices
- Pies only come in 1 size
- There are never toppings to add (you can order pizzas with different toppings, but you never have the option of adding individual toppings to a cheese pizza)
- Pizzas are invariably served unsliced and come with a fork and knife

Because of the last factor, pizza is rarely crispy. This happened to be the only bad thing about da Michele. I love the taste of pizza, but part of the fun of eating it is folding it in half. You simply cannot do this with most Italian pizzas, especially the ones served at da Michelle.

My dislike for Naples led me to relegate one day for exploring the city and one day to the nearby city of Pompei. I walked around Naples and enjoyed walking the streets along the water and took in the sights the city had to offer. I don't have much more to add to that. Oh, except I got pizza 3 other times in the next 36 hours. Includinng once more at da Michele. This time I ordered a margarita doble (extra mozzarella) and it probably would have been the best pizza I have ever eaten, but I decided to get it right before I headed out of town, and by the time I had a chance to eat it, it had cooled to room temp. Even still, it was definitely a top 5 pizza of all-time.

Below: my first Italian pizza, at a pizza stand in Bari. It was delicious. They always serve slices at the over-the-counter places, but never at restaurants. Can't you feel the excitement? I can, too.

Quite the Tradition

Somehow, some way, I obtained free alcohol every single day I was in Greece. It started at my hostel (free shot of ouzo when you get there) and ended with free shots at the last bar I went to in Ios. In between those two, I finagled beer, red wine, white wine, shots, shooters, you name it.

On our first day in Santorini, we were debating between 2 side-by-side restaurants. In an effort to woo us, one offered us a free bottle of wine. In we went. However, shortly after sitting down, we realized we didn't have much money and each of us ordered a 1.90 euro gyro. They hadn't brought the wine by the time our food arrived, and I found this, as my father would say, "UN-acceptable". I waited until a young busboy (who was totally unaware of the agreement and our orders) passed by, at which point I flagged him down and informed him of the settlement over the wine. Confused, he walked away. Only to appear 2 minutes later with some delicious white wine. I like that story.

We kept joking that our luck would soon run out, but it never did. Bars gave us free shots, Francesco's hostel gave us Welcome Shots, girls boughts us drinks, you name it, we got it.

Greece will always have a special place in my heart.


...And no, I don't have a drinking problem.

The Paradise More Commonly Known as Ios

This is what you need to know about Ios:

The Paradise More Commonly Known as Santorini

Athens was fun, but quite frankly, it was a hub to paradise. Three friends I met in Athens and I all wanted to pay a visit to the Island of Santorini, so we decided to make the trip together. Trevor and Rachel are cousins from Seattle and Clint happens to come from the America's Finest City (for any of you not up on the lingo, I'm referring to San Diego). The overnight ferry left the dock at 8pm and didn't arrive until shortly after 6 the next morning. The trip was most certainly long, but considering that the 30 euro ride doubled as transportation and accommodation for the night, we were defintely not complaining.

As it turned out, it could not have worked any more smoothly. When we cruised into the island, the owner of our villa was waiting for us. Yes, villa. Yes, he was waiting for us. He grabbed our bags, threw them in his van and we headed up the mountain to Villa Manos. Yes, Villa Manos. The drive up was picture perfect. We went around the mountain and took in the beautiful scene of a gorgeous island accompanied by a sunrise in the backdrop. We arrived about 10 minutes later and were greeted by the sweetest woman in the world. Her name happens to be Mrs. Poppy. Or just Poppy. She apologetically informed us that we couldn't yet check in because they were fully booked and no one had yet checked out. Realizing we would have to wait a few hours, we threw our luggage in the lobby and inquired about breakfast. Again, she sincerly apologized that breakfast was not served until 8am. After about 3 seconds of silence, she blurted out that she could have her husband (The same guy who shuttled us from the port and the same guy we later learned hates to be referred to as "Mr. Poppy") pick us up some breakfast from a nearby store. Feeling guilty and dumbfounded at the same time, we turned down the request. Instead, we walked about 10 minutes to the edge of town to local bakery for some Greek deliciousness.



It was still too early to check-in when we returned to our villa, so we had to go through the agony of waiting around....POOLSIDE. None of us had gotten more than an hour of sleep on the ferry, so it wasn't long before we were all getting some sun and some shuteye. At around 10:30 came by inform us that a room was ready. But it wasn't our room. It was a nicer room than the one requested, but she felt so bad that we had to wait, she upgraded us for no charge.

NOTE: This is when I realized I was on a different planet.

After sleeping a little more and getting a little more sunshine, we decided to rent ATVs for the day. I had actually never ridden one, so this was especially exciting for me. Each 4-wheeler was only 15 for the day, so for 7.5 euro each, we drove all over the island going upwards of 60km an hour. It was freaking amazing. We rode around, grabbed some lunch and headed for the beach. After taking in some more sun for a few hours, we ventured towards the top of the island. After a while of aimless, exhilirating driving, we stumbled upon one of the most gorgeous views I had ever seen. We hopped off our vehicles, walked down a bit, hopped over a fence and were greeted to this...



After eventually breaking ourselves away from our little jewel, we hopped back on and rode back toward town for dinner and drinks. As we were getting ready to head out for the night, we realized we had 2 ATVs, which meant 2 drivers, which meant 2 designated drivers. Damnit. There was only one way to settle this: Rock-Paper-Scissors. The cousins had been sharing a bike, so they squared off, while I was pitted against Clint. I took a minute (literally) to craft my strategy for the match-up. My experience has shown that few people start off with scissors, so I figured it was best go with paper. I thought about it a bit more, and realized Clint is a pretty smart man. I could tell he was giving this some thought as well. I anticipated he would go with scissors, so I switched the gameplan to rock.



About 6 seconds later, I took a swig of my drink in celebration. It was going to be a good night.

We went out on the town and had a great time. Too good, in fact. After hopping from bar to bar, to club, the cousins had not lived up to their end of the bargain (I don't even remember who had to be DD) and were hammered. Clint was the only sober person. As a result, Clint became Mr. Poppy and shuttled us. One. At. A. Time. Fortunately, I was the first make the 7 minute drive back with him, while Rachel and Trevor had to wait around for our makeshift taxi service to return.



The next day can only be described in so many words. We woke up early for a boat tour we had signed up for the day before. A bus picked us up and headed towards the port, where we set foot on our gorgeous boat.

I felt good. I was excited for our tour of the island. I was in love with our boat. The others...well, not so much.

We all had partied pretty hard the night before, but apparently it was hurting them more than it was hurting me. They were all hungover. Especially Rachel. She wasn't even aware this picture was being taken. Sorry, Rach, I had to. (For explanation, see below.)





We stepped off the boat when we got to the volcano, at which point Rachel realized she was in no state to climb up a volcano. And then there were 3.

It was hot. And steep. About a third of the way up, Trevor realized he was in no state to climb up a volcano. And then there were 2.

Before I go on, let me give you a little background. Clint had just come from Egypt with his two buddies from home. While there, Clint decided to eat some raw vegetables that had not been properly cleaned. Needless to say, Clint was not the happiest of campers...multiple times a day.



About two-thirds a way to the top, Clint felt "a brew" coming on. He debated with himself whether to suck it up and keep going to the top, or to throw in the towel (and later the bathing suit) and run down to a bathroom. Being the tough San Diegan that he is, he ventured onward.

In the meantime, I was really enjoying the mountain. The scene was not what I imagined a volcano to look like, though. It was more of a dirt mountain with a number of craters where the volcano erupted. It wasn't like a tall strucure that we all envision from pictures. Regardless, it was really pretty and had a great backdrop to it. Our tour guide was extremely informative, and suggested that there was quite the developed civilization here way back in the day. When we got to the top, he dug up some of the soil to show us how how it was. It remarkable how the dirt, which looked so peaceful, scorched my fingers at the touch.



Then came the walk down.

I was walking at my own pace, enjoying the scenery and taking pictures. Clint was not up for such activities, and hightailed back to our boat. From afar, I saw him virtually sprint down the mountain, bouncing around in his flip-flops. I was about 100 yards behind him when I saw scurrying around, desperately looking around for our boat, which blended in quite well with the others around it.

When I get to the bottom, I find Rachel still curled up in fetal position where we left an hour an half earlier, with Trevor right beside her. After talking to them for a few minutes, I head back towards our boat.

I had only been sitting for a few minutes when Clint comes walking up. He has a guilty smile on his face and informs me that he just had the worst experience of his life. As he begins to tell me, I see that his face is fairly wet. I chalk it up to his sweating in the heat and pain endured until I look down and realize his entire body is soaked.

"Why are you wet?"
"Oh man, you don't want to know."
"You know I do."

NOTE: THE FOLLOWING SHOULD NOT BE READ BY MINORS, PREGNANT WOMEN, THOSE WITH BACK TROUBLES OR PEOPLE WITH QUEASY STOMACHS

Apparently, Clint had to go. Real. Bad. He was vehemently searching for our boat, but despite his best efforts, he couldn't quite find it. Out of options, he did the unthinkable. He jumped into the Mediterranean.



Yikes.



Moving along....



The next stop on our tour were the hot springs. They were in an area that was inaccessible via our boat, so we had to jump (see below) into chilly waters and swim to the springs. The water was refreshing and the swim over felt great, but the hot springs were barely lukewarm. Fun, nonetheless.



After lunch on shore (and more bent over heaving from Rachel and Trevor), we waited for our boat to take off again. As we sat, we discussed how much of a mess the 3 of us were. Except for me. I had felt a little sluggish in the morning, but I was just fine after returning the ATVs. I had actually felt pretty good. Trevor felt like crap and left a part of himself on shore. Rachel was a walking debacle at every stop of the way. And Clint, well, he made my trip. I was next. I had to be. I felt a sense of impending doom come over me, and became leery of everything around me. I even found what appeared to be plastic in the calamari I was eating. After some investigation though, I learned the object was harmless membrane. Still, I was petrified.

Back on the boat, we headed towards Oia, a quaint town at the top of Santorini. While Oia is really cute, there is nothing especially exciting to do there (more on this later). We were dropped off by the boat at the dock and had to get allllll the way to the top of the steep mountain to get to Oia. We two options: 1) Pay 5 euro for a donkey ride to the top or 2) Hike and hike for 0 euro. After we realized we had plenty of time to kill and no money to waste, we decided to trek onward (and very upward). During the march, we had to walk behind and then beyond a number of donkeys. This is when I learned you never want to walk behind donkeys because they like to buck people with their hind legs. "This is how my life is going to end," I thought to myself. As I walked to the right of the donkeys, I closed my eyes, swallowed hard and assumed the worst. I opened my eyes and all way okay. Phew, that was close.

After much hiking, we finally made it to the top only to discover most of the shops and restaurants closed. This was in late April, and the Greek tourist season doesn't begin to take off until Greek Easter, which is in the first week of May. With few tourists roaming the streets, most of what there was to do was closed down. The boat had dropped us off at 4pm for an 8pm sunset and after some aimless walking, we now had 3 hours to kill. Debating whether it was worth the wait, I informed the group that it was Ios, and not Santorini that is known for its unparalleled sunsets. Considering the fact that we were to be in Ios the next night, we decided to take an early bus back to our villa.

After dinner (best greek salad of my life) we decided to make it a mellow night and stay in. I picked up my Let's Go to see how much of the island we had covered, and read that the top of Oia has "the best sunsets in all of Greece". Oops.

Still unscathed the next morning, we packed up our bags, gave Ms. Poppy hugs and kisses (we all agreed I was her favorite of the group, and she later told us we were her favorite people..."in days"...) and headed towards the port. Still feeling like a shmuck about Oia's sunset, we ran into a number of people from our tour who decided not to screw and actually stay for the sunset. Fearing the worst, I asked them how it was.

"Eh, it was really cloudy. You didn't miss much."

It was then I pulled a Johnny Drama and with fists pumping, bellowed a long, loud , "VICTORY!"

Santorini, baby, Santorini!