Spring Break: Part Quatre - Mobsters Don't Ride the Bus

The final part of my spring break was spent in Palermo, Sicily. Unbeknownst to my parents, I booked a trip to Palermo by myself for three nights. Right as I got back to Italy from Iceland, my mom inquired specifically of my plans for the rest of spring break, so I told her. Needless to say, it did not go over well.

After returning, most people asked if I got lonely or if it was scary traveling alone. To be honest, neither. I actually really enjoyed not having anyone to speak to face-to-face during my travels. It was a pretty introspective trip: I just had myself and my thoughts. And that was pretty much it. Also, I really enjoyed being on my own schedule and not listening to anyone. It was awesome to just do whatever I felt like doing--I've never experienced that before while traveling.

Palermo. Day 1. Thursday, March 22.

Anyway, I flew from Bologna to Palermo on RyanAir...my faaaaaavorite airline. If you couldn't tell, that was a very sarcastic remark. My flight was at 6:40 in the morning, which means I had to be at the airport at around 5:30, but of course there were no trains that got into Bologna at 5:00. So I took a train leaving Florence Campo Maria at 1:47 am. I thought the train left from Florence Santa Maria Novella, and when I realized (at 1:40) I jumped in the nearest cab. Here's the conversation.

Me: Hi. Do you speak English?
Cab Driver: Si.
Me: Campo Maria...fast!
Cab Driver: Si.
Me: How long will it take to get there?
Cab Driver: Ten, maybe five minute.
Me: I have a train leaving at 1:47.
Cab Driver: I hurry.
Me: Thanks.
(The cab driver blew through two red lights)
Cab Driver: Where you going?
Me: Bologna, but I'm flying to Palermo from there and I need to get on this train.
Cab Driver: Okay. I get you there in time. Don't worry.
Me: Thanks so much.

I then arrived at 1:46, I paid the cabbie, and bolted for the train. Made it in time. Cabbed to the airport from Bologna Centrale (the fifteen minute ride cost less in Bologna than it did in Firenze...weird) and arrived at 3:15. So many hours to kill. Anyway, so the Bolognans are expanding their airport, so you had to take a tram to get to the RyanAir check in area. The tram was actually not a tram, but...well...take a look for yourself.

I felt like I was a kid again. I mean, honestly, I feel like a kid quite a lot. I'm a big fan of chocolate chip cookies, naps, and tantrums. Well, maybe not tantrums. But you get the idea.

Anyway, I landed in Palermo and I must add that RyanAir's pilots are absolutely not equipped to land an airplane filled with passengers or any airplane for that matter. The pilot literally slammed into the runway. I've never experienced anything like it. We bounced literally 20 feet in the air. Once we hit the runway, people literally screamed--it was actually quite scary. This is also not the first time I've experienced a bad landing on a RyanAir flight. I cannot stress how much they need to actually teach their pilots how to land. I'm pretty sure they skipped that part of their flight training...

Anyway, I took a train to the city center and hopped in a cab to the hotel. It was impossible to find a taxi stand, and people by and large don't speak English. I tried speaking in my broken Italian and pretty much gave up. Thankfully, this cab driver spoke a little English. Here's how the conversation went down...

Me: I'm going to Via Marchese Ugo.
Cabbie: Ahh. Via Marchese Ugo. Ten minutes.
Me: Sounds good.
(We hit tons of traffic on Via Roma)
Cabbie: Gesip Manafe Stazione!
Me: Uhhh... What?
Cabbie: Lovoro. You know what is lovoro?
Me: Yeah--work. Come sei deici "gesip manafe stazione" in inglese? (How do you say "gesip manafe stazione" in English?)
Cabbie: Lovoro!
Me: Work?
Cabbie: No, manafe stazione!
Me: ??
Cabbie: !!

This went back and forth for a little while. Turns out some group was protesting something. In Italy, there is always someone protesting something or going on strike. People don't work. I'm still not sure exactly what happened. When I asked the front desk at the hotel, no one knew of any "gesip manafe stazione". It was quite a shame.

I did a ton of walking around and exploring while in Palermo. I literally walked around the entire city checking things out. First of all, I heard three people speak any form of American/British English during my entire trip. Also, Palermo is very much a working city--it did NOT seem touristy at all...at least during mid March. There were packs of kids of all ages wandering around during lunch periods and after school. So. Many. Kids. Also, I guess Palermo is quite famous for housing the mafia. I was kind of surprised I didn't get invited onto an enormous yacht to chill with some mafiosa dressed in pin-striped suits, sporting slicked back black hair, and walking around with an entourage of gangsters. That aspect of the trip was quite a let down.

A very cool area indeed. I got lunch the first day at a place named Le Volte. I had a very Sicilian appetizer consisting of aubergine (no one says eggplant besides for Americans), olive oil, tomato, and garlic. It was quite delicious. Another notable thing about Sicilian cuisine is they have great bread! If you go to a restaurant, you get bread topped with sesame seeds. And the best part is that it actually tastes like bread! Unreal.

Walked around more. And then passed out.

Palermo. Day 2. Friday, March 23.

I slept late. Really late. I figured that I've been running around for so long, I need a good night's rest. A then got a brunchy lunch at this little boutique panini place called Pan Faccaccia. It was good. I just told them to make me something vegetarian, and here is what I got.

I'm usually not a fan of mustard, but this panino happened to be quite delicious. Oh. Also, I saw another one of those train/tram things rolling around Palermo.

Okay. So here is probably the funniest thing that happened to me. Are you ready? Buckle your seatbelts, we're about to go on a journey...a journey to the opera. Here's what happened:

I was walking around and I passed the Massimo theater. I had read online that the Massimo theater is definitely worth checking out, and they have tours. I was like, "Great. I'll just grab a tour of the Massimo theater." So I walked over and followed a sign that said, "Theater tours, this way" and pointed in the direction of the box office. So being the spaz that I am (not really) walked into the box office and said that I would like to go on a guided tour of the theater. After a few interesting exchanges, I realized I had purchased a ticket for the opera "Boris Godunov" and not a ticket to check out the theater. The woman behind the box office counter than told me in Italian (she did not speak one word of English) that it started at 18:30 and ended around 22:30. Yes, it was four hours. Excuse my language, four fucking hours. It was so long, there were three intermissions. Here's the theater.

The theater was set up in such a way where everyone had a box. I think I fell asleep at the forty-five minute mark of the opera. I woke up at the end of the applause of before the first intermission (about an hour and forty-five minutes into the opera). In my box was a nice Italian couple who either decided that they had enough of the opera, or they snuck into a better box. Either way, they didn't return to my box. I'd like to think they didn't return for reasons other than me falling asleep (and possibly snoring?), but I can't be too sure. Also, during the first intermission, I called my dad who told me if I hated the opera so much I should just leave. I told him that I had already spent money for entertainment, and I was in no way leaving.

So that was my first (and likely, last) experience with the opera. The cherry on the cake was that everyone was dressed in black tie while I was wearing nikes, jeans, a solid-color waffle shirt, and a Northface. So not only did I not want to be there, I just looked like an idiot.

Before the opera, I went to get a panino (singular of panini) because I knew I wasn't going to eating for quite a while. While I was ordering, I heard someone next to me speak Italian in a kind of English accent. Turns out, it was an Irish man named John who had escaped to Palermo to teach for a bit and get away from the hustle and bustle of Dublin life. He told me he would show me around, but he had to teach a class. John gave me his number anyway in case I had any questions about Palermo. Nice guy. I never called. My parents always told me to not talk to strangers. He did offer me some candy though...

Palermo. Day 3. Saturday, March 24.

Saturday was my last full day in Palermo (I had a really early flight on Sunday) and there were two things left on my agenda: Vucciria Market and Mondello.

Vucciria Market

My favorite restaurant for a while back home in Milwaukee (it ended up closing) was called Vucciria, and that's initially what sparked my interest in Vucciria Market. Anyway, it is an outdoor market, and everyone screams. No talking, just screaming. I bought a banana, and yelled at the guy to give me a banana. That's what you do. I probably also sounded like an enormous gringo. If you get queazy from dead hanging animals, don't look at the pictures below. If you don't, keep reading.






Okay, so we have a goat hanging with three goat heads chilling in the cabinet, a tuna being sliced, ricci (which are sea urchins--they were still moving) being cut open and their guts being shoveled into the bucket, and a swordfish. It was really interesting actually because it was so much different than Florence's central market.

Allora. After Vucciria Market, I took the bus (#806) to Mondello, which is a small seaside town about twenty minutes outside of Palermo. It's kind of like South Beach minus the white trash and the clubs. It's basically where every single Sicilian middle- and high-school kid goes on the weekend. It wasn't packed with people when I was there, but John was telling me that Mondello was going to be packed on Sunday. I guess kids had school until 1:00 pm on Saturday.

Some background information on the following picture--I was one of thirty people taking a picture. I request you click to see the larger image.

If there were two people on the beach laying next to each other, there was a 100% chance that they were making out.

There were also some awesome boats all painted in really bright colors. Really cool.

I guess garbage companies don't pick up the trash in Mondello. Dumpsters were overflowing. That was the case in Palermo as well. Trash everywhere.

Palermo. Day 4. Sunday, March 25.

I left Palermo. Some pictures from the plane. All in all, very successful trip.

Spring Break: Part Trois

The posts were getting a little long, so I decided to break it down. I'm still talking about Iceland, so I guess this is still technically "Spring Break: Part Un" but post trois. Got it? Good.

Allora. Our last part of Iceland was the horse ride. We decided to do this because it was the number one "thing to do" near Reykjavik according to Trip Advisor. It was quite interesting actually. Icelandic horses are are much smaller than normal horses. My horse is named Gymir. Gymir is a little shy so I was instructed by Bekka--the woman in charge who may be one of the happiest people I've ever met--to talk to Gymir and just chill with him for a little bit. By the end of our chill sesh, Gymir and I were just like old friends--talking, laughing, joking around, wrestling. You know. The general man/horse relationship. Little did Gymir know that he (I think it is a he) would be carrying me around for the next hour. He (again, the gender assumption) was a very good tempered Icelandic horse as I did not have any issues. Justin's horse got a rock stuck in its hoof. We had to call AAA, who regretted to inform us that they didn't have roadside assistance in Iceland. Unreal.

Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures because Bekka said she would take some pictures for us and then E-Mail them to us. Still waiting to receive them...

After that, we got some sushi. My goal for the trip was to eat as much raw fish as possible. I think I did a pretty decent job.

We also went to the big church in Reykjavik. It was just a little different than the churches in florence... Check it out.

And that was Iceland. Afterwards, we got a cab to the airport where Justin and I would return back to Florence via Copenhagen (we had a 13 hour layover) and Paris. Before we left, I got a Viking beer at the airport. I felt it was appropriate.

I'm only going to mention a few things in Copenhagen because it is absolutely worth mentioning.

We went into the city to get a Danish meal. Unfortunately, the Danes eat earlier and everything was closed by 11:00 on a Monday night. We asked around for a good place to eat, and everyone gave us the same answer, "Oh, go to Rio Bravo. They have decent food and they are open till 4 am." Great, Rio Bravo it is.

So we finally walked into Rio Bravo, which turned out to be an American, Western themed restaurant. The restaurant was decked out. The nine yards. Barrels, hats, saddle chairs at the bar, whips, wood beams with inscriptions of towns in New Mexico, trough urinal, etc. We had quite the typical Danish meal. Not.

After dinner, we walked around trying to find a place to hang out for a few hours because we couldn't check in to our flight. We ended up getting in a cab and asking him what was opened, he told us nothing was open, but he would drive us around, which, to be honest, is less than ideal especially when Copenhagen is the most expensive city in Europe (I'm not sure if that's actually still true). He dropped us off at this tequila bar, where everyone was hammered, chain smoking, and sloppily dancing to Michael Jackson. I looked over and Justin, and we left. We ended up finding a quaint karaoke bar, called Sam's Bar in Copenhagen where we hung out for a bit. The crowd was interesting to say the least. A mixture of a group of friends, a few random guys who seemed to know each other, a woman who seemed to be on meth (or crack...not sure), and the bartender. The bartender actually had a great voice. You can see a video of the meth woman trying to sing here. When she is unable to do so, the bartender takes over and she just dances. It's actually quite funny.

After our little incident, we grabbed the metro back to the airport, checked in, and waited for our flight back to Florence (via Paris).

Spring Break: Part Deux (not post deux) to come shortly.

Spring Break: Part Deux

The continuation of our Iceland trip...

Sunday, March 18.

Spelunking in a lava tube cave. We went spelunking. For those of you who, unlike myself, are not outdoorsy, spelunking is "cave exploring". I guess it's not terribly adventurous if the cave had already been explored... Anyway, we got picked up by this very nice Icelandic guy with a black beard, ready to explore a cave. Going into the earth with us were four others--two girls from Australia who were on a tour of Europe and were extremely unprepared for the cold and windy conditions of Iceland, and two Brits (a man, who moved to Iceland a few years back with his female friend) who seemed to have been friends at one point but otherwise were terribly awkward around each other.

We drove out to this cave about twenty minutes outside of downton Reykjavik and stopped in the middle of this road with nothing but lava rocks, snow, and mountains in the background. Quite beautiful. And then we had about a five minute walk to the cave (this is important). The cave used to be an old lava tube. Our guide told us that scientists knew it was formed in June, but they don't know what year. I missed the reasoning behind this because I was helping one of the Australian girls not kill herself on the ice in the beginning of the cave. The guy in the green is our guide who had a name that was so hard to pronounce, I forgot it completely. I really hope it wasn't something simple like John...

It was pretty cool climbing through the cave--definitely not one of the things on top of my To-Do list, but still a very cool experience. At the end of the cave, the eight of us turned our lights off and our guide told us a story about how there was a guy who loved this girl in a village nearby. The girl's father disapproved of their relationship so the guy fled the village and hid in the cave. The girl used to come visit him, but the trek to the cave took a day each way. The girl would disappear for days at a time to visit him. The father became suspicious and one day followed her, and saw that she was still with this guy. The father killed the kid, the daughter was so upset she tried to kill the father, but the father ended up killing her (I think). When the village people returned to give them a funeral, their bodies were missing. (Now is when everyone says "Ooohhhhh" and/or gasps). And now their spirits haunt the cave.

Also, since at one point the cave was a lava tube, the little drips from the ceiling were made when the lava flow receded and the lava on the ceiling quickly cooled. The white stuff is an algae that grows on the walls. It looks like someone spray painted silver paint, and it's really fragile. You can see where people wrote their names in it, which was actually quite upsetting.

Okay, so the walk from the cave to the car was miserable. Absolutely miserable. It was so incredibly cold and windy and there was snow blowing everywhere. After the picture was taken, my body kicked into the "flight" (like fight or flight) mode. I had one goal, and that was to get back into the car ASAP.

Then we got hot chocolate on the way home. Or as they say in Icelandic, "heitt súkkulaði".

Blue Lagoon.

Iceland, like Budapest, has its own thermal baths. It was actually really cool. We took a bus from our hotel to Blue Lagoon (which happened to be surprisingly blue). On the bus ride, I sat up front and had a nice conversation with the driver. I also sneakily took a picture of him. He is just a baller.

We talked about the differences of culture and life between the US and Iceland--mainly prices of goods. He didn't speak English too good (yes, bad grammar was used purposefully), so communication was a little difficult. Also, when we were discussing gas prices, he would say in terms of Kronas per liter, which I had to then convert into Dollars per gallon. When I finally told him how much gas was (gas was like $3.50 a gallon when I left for Europe), he said, "Oh! Wow! Very cheap! I drive all day!" He also told me to go to Sweden. His daughter lives there, and he said it's beautiful. When we talked about vacationing, it was no surprise that residents of Iceland like to go to warm places. The bus driver spoke about Miami and how he loved Miami. Also, something else we noticed about Icelanders, is that they LOVE (I cannot stress this enough) Apple and Apple products. Literally, everyone has an iPhone, and they all overpay considerably for it. The bus driver paid about $1,300 (US) for an iPhone 4S and he could not say a bad thing about his phone. He actually said he paid less for an iPad--which was kind of surprising.

Anyway, we got to Blue Lagoon and braved the two minute walk from the bus to the building (a brutal cold, wind, and snow mixture), which happened to be quite luxurious. This was such a different experience than Budapest. There was no nudity in the pools (including the wearing of Hungarian Penis Smocks--no Icelandic Penis Smocks either), and everything was new, clean, and modern. The heated floors were a nice touch as well. There were three sections to the hot springs: an indoor section, an outdoor section, and a manmade "cave" section outside. The hot springs were quite warm considering the temperature outside. The bus ranged from -6 Celsius (21 degrees F) to 0 Celsius (32 degrees F) during our ride, which does NOT include wind chill. It was cold. We went outside first and did a lap. It was extremely chilly. I, being the tough guy I am, screamed like a little girl several times. I will only admit it to my readers, because I trust you will keep that information private...deal? Here are some pictures of the outdoor and indoor areas. We presumed the guy in the neon yellow was making sure no one died in the outdoor pool.

All in all, the Blue Lagoon was a success. I'm sure it would have been that much more awesome had it been much less windy and a little warmer. I'd love to go back some day.

Dinner.

We ate a restaurant called The Grill Market. The food was incredible. A highlight was definitely the salmon app. So good. It tasted similar to what I would imagine the tears of angels taste like. Let the pictures do the talking.