Saturday evening to Sunday evening was all travelling just to get to Italy. Stephen and I were both wiped out by the time we made it to his apartment (I want to record a video of it to post here so everyone can take the grand tour!). The trip from the airport was largely uneventful except for the fact of witnessing Italian driving, which proves as true as the stereotype. Their cars are equipped with both brakes and blinkers but I’ve seen them seldom use both. So instead of recounting my nauseating ride I’ll tell a few truths of international traveling I learned on the way here and on the way to Poland:
1) Switching time zones going east will make you lose a day of your life: I left Philadelphia at 5:40pm and landed in Frankfurt around 7:20am. A nine hour flight somehow took more than 12 hours and I was too groggy to recount how. Losing hours of my life on a plane is definitely not the way I want to go.
1) If you opt for the vegetarian meal on the plane you will get your food before everyone else and your seat mate* will stare at you like a ravenous bear: We got two different meals on the plane (dinner and breakfast) and I didn’t realize I was given the vegetarian option until the second meal when I got a wrap filled with lettuce for breakfast (thanks mom). When the flight attendant gave me dinner she did it discretely so the girl sitting next to me didn’t awake too suddenly from her deep bear-like hibernation but rather slowly eased herself to a conscience enough state to realize that I was eating and she wasn’t. The second time a new flight attendant gave me breakfast but made a lot more noise about it. Our exchange went something like this: (*she was German so I’ll try to relay her accent as best as possible, but where I fail just try to fill in the blanks*)
The flight attendant: “Eez thiz your füd?”
Me in my head: Oh, shoot lady look what’ve you’ve done, it has awoken.
Me out loud: “Umm what do you mean?”
The flight attendant: “Eeeeh. I beleeve zee vege-…eeh, vege-…eh….”
Me out loud: “Yup that’s mine. It’s mine. I swear.” (Initiate Neanderthal like grabbing)
Me in my head: “STOP STARING!”
My seat mate this time darted like a bullet from her slumber and I swear she growled.
*As a side note, when boarding the plane I got to my seat first (I had an aisle seat) and had to get up for my seat mate to get to her window seat. I was okay with this and actually very excited to be sitting next to someone my age so maybe we could chat but as soon as she plopped down in her seat she whipped out her ear buds and slammed the window blind shut. Hey girl, thanks for killing my dreams of us being besties and ruining my view of the night sky. (Insert a Ryan Gosling meme…or just Ryan himself)
3) You will not get a good night’s sleep, in fact you may never sleep at all: This is self-explanatory
4) You will welcome terra firma with more zeal and vigor than previously known…and possibly even kiss the ground: Okay, so I didn’t actually kiss the ground but I might as well have. My sinuses don’t react well to constant pressure changes (I just discovered this, this week) and so black pavement has never been more inviting than it was getting off the various planes.
Alright, now a segway into Monday. I slept like a baby on Sunday night but was rudely awakened to go get on yet another plane for Poland. In truth, I was not initially excited to do this. I wanted to lie in bed for the next year and only face the light of day on my terms so getting on another plane didn’t seem appealing but we were out the door by noon and headed towards the airport in Milan. I won’t bore you with the details so fast forward five hours later>>>>>>>>>>>We landed in Poland and made our way to the Dizzy Daisy Hostel. The hostel was really cool. I like the community instantly created there. You have to wash your own dishes at breakfast and eat on sofas next to people from all over so you’re nearly forced out of the norm to communicate with people with a 50/50 chance you’ll get your point across. Also, the desk help was what I assumed (after meeting Polish friends on our second night) college students so they were eager to learn, listen, and help just as much as we wanted to. The beds weren’t fantastic but we came back so tired anyways that it didn’t matter.
Day 2: This was my favorite day of the trip. We went to Auschwitz in the morning and this trip made me love the Polish. The ones we met were hospitable and amiable and wanted to talk with us. Granted our tour guides were being paid by us and the friends we made are majoring in American Studies at their university but I nonetheless felt very welcome. I could write a lot about Auschwitz but I’m sure my words would never do the experience justice. I’ve been to the Holocaust museum but the hate and fear Stephen and I felt at Auschwitz, Birkenau, and Schindler’s Factory is unparalleled. Like, you just don’t get it till you’ve been there to see how real it really was. A cool thing about our tours though was our tour guide. He was exceptionally stoic. He took on this “come-hither” look in the most non-sensual way that simply said “Come look at me! Come look at how stoic I am!” I never thought someone could make drinking water look stoic but he did it. I’m still living in outright amazement and it’s been two days. Tuesday evening we went into the city again for dinner and that’s where we met Remy and Magda. They are lovely. We met them on the street when all four of us thought we were waiting for some famous soccer star. It was raining and no one was coming so Remy suggested we go get a drink. I’m 99% positive Stephen said yes before Remy completed his offer. According to Stephen you apparently follow the people making that offer, and I’m just glad we did. Getting to talk to native Poles was so interesting and I learned a lot about their country and my own. They were both so funny and natural; I think we hit it off immediately. We sat outside in what Magda translated as the Main Square for probably about 6 hours. Polska, Poland’s soccer team, was playing that night so the whole town was out to watch the game. Americans get riled up about football but these fans made the whole city shake it seemed like. Their pride and passion was incredible. After the game some Brits in town came to where we were and Stephen started talking to them. In the most polite way all I can say about them is that they were drunk and rude. Also, I couldn’t understand a word they were saying-honestly, I just nodded and smiled and tried to laugh when I thought they said something funny. It was obvious that the people around us were enjoying them even less than us but they were there only long enough to have one drink. Almost right after that a table of French guys sat down. They definitely made up for their British counterparts. They were quieter for one, and nicer for two. Also, one told me “Your French eet iz so beauteeful. I wish for you to only speek in zee French.” I know that’s not true because when I speak in French I sound like a frozen robot but when a French guy tells you to speak in French you speak in French, gosh darnit! They also hit on me hard core but they were also hitting on the waitress and probably would have flirted with Stephen if he put on a wig. All in all though they were pretty amusing and made me realize the only high school subject I may actually ever use, or at least use the most of, is French-which is fine by me.
Day 3: This was the slowest day I believe probs because we got back to the hostel around 1:30 the night before. I was up and at ‘em at 9 like Stephen wanted us to be but we didn’t end up leaving the hostel until after 10 because the king needed more sleep. I like punctuality. I always have and I always will, it’s just my style so next time you set a wake-up time Stephen you better get up because I surly will be. After I successfully navigated our way to the Castle Wawel/Cathedral (which might I add was rather anti-climatic. I mean we didn’t even know we were even there until after we left so I don’t think we appreciated it as much as wanted to in the first place). After that we stopped for breakfast and then Stephen ever so patiently walked with me, all the way out of Krakow, to Schindler’s Factory which was a huge disappointment. I was expecting like the real deal, same building face and all but basically there was a plaque and in one room his desk. It was an adventure though and our (undeclared in the Beers-Worley-Beers Fiscal Year 2013 meeting) mantra for this year is “even mistakes are adventures” which is true I think in every sense.
Day 3: This was the slowest day I believe probs because we got back to the hostel around 1:30 the night before. I was up and at ‘em at 9 like Stephen wanted us to be but we didn’t end up leaving the hostel until after 10 because the king needed more sleep. I like punctuality. I always have and I always will, it’s just my style so next time you set a wake-up time Stephen you better get up because I surly will be. After I successfully navigated our way to the Castle Wawel/Cathedral (which might I add was rather anti-climatic. I mean we didn’t even know we were even there until after we left so I don’t think we appreciated it as much as wanted to in the first place). After that we stopped for breakfast and then Stephen ever so patiently walked with me, all the way out of Krakow, to Schindler’s Factory which was a huge disappointment. I was expecting like the real deal, same building face and all but basically there was a plaque and in one room his desk. It was an adventure though and our (undeclared in the Beers-Worley-Beers Fiscal Year 2013 meeting) mantra for this year is “even mistakes are adventures” which is true I think in every sense.
And on day four we’re back showered and full so to wrap up this ridiculously long post I’ll leave you with the things we learned about traveling, each other, and hostels:
Hostels: BRING YOUR OWN TOWELS. I’m not sure how both of us didn’t realize this but we were drying ourselves off with extra clothes all week , so that was gross. Also, I forgot an entire day’s worth of clothes so yay for rewearing clothes and feeling like a hobo. (remember, even mistakes are adventures!)
Traveling: use travel size liquids because Europeans are sticklers on this. Stephen had to throw away all his hygiene products and I had to get rid of my nice detangler. I was so frustrated because in the Italian airport we had to go through security twice and even then they were picky. Also, play nice because everyone is tired, grumpy, hungry, and probably has a headache so for the time being refrain from sarcasm and mockery…and LOUD NOISES (if anyone read that in their Ron Burgundy voice we can be best friends forever).
Each other: Stephen is never serious unless he’s tired so never take him seriously. And I’m the socially awkward penguin that everyone loves and a “scared turtle” which is like this constipated look I get when someone talks to me in another language and I don’t know what they are saying. 100% of the time their look is averted to Stephen so 100% of the time the look is successful. Please feel free to try it in your next awkward moment.
If you’re still reading CONGRATULATIONS! If not I understand. I'll try to blog more so posts aren't this long but I'm not promising anything.
Ciao!