This morning I woke up, and answered some emails I'd gotten during the night. Katherine had done some research, and figured out another way to Hungary, which didn't involve driving through Bosnia. She said that Split (which is a city just next to this one) has a train station in it which goes to Budapest through Zagreb (Croatia's Capital city). I can buy a cheap bus ticket here to get me to Split, and then use my Eurail Pass to go by train the rest of the way to Budapest. Going by train will also shorten the travel time substantially, so I won't be spending 20 hours in transit. I felt like this was a good plan, so immediately, I walked down to the bus station and ordered a ticket to Split for tomorrow at 8am.
After insuring my seat on the bus tomorrow, I decided to walk around the direction from the bus station that I hadn't gone yet, just to see what was over there. I walked along the road some distance, and found some cool little houses, a couple dirt roads, and a beautiful river running through the center. However, when I reached the city limit, I figured it was probably not a good idea to leave the city to keep walking, so I turned back.
The weather from Rijeka eventually caught up with me, and had covered the beautiful skies with looming clouds during the night, and by now it began to pour down that icy rain I'd known from earlier. Still, I walked on into the old city holding myself in my arms. I've grown so fond of the hat I've been wearing throughout this journey, which I'd bought in Edinburgh. It's been so good to me during the hard times of my trip. It provides perfect shade from the hot sun, and in the rain I've found that pointing my head slightly downward blocks the rain from my face like a shield. My head always seems to stay warm and dry since I've bought it, and that's proved to be so important. I've gone back and forth as to the fashion sense of it, but I like it, and I think it looks better on me than the beanie.
As I walked, I thought about how I was really actually enjoying myself being cold and wet, and nearly blown off the hill at times by the wind. I welcome a little turmoil. I think I've stated before how I tend to be a little masochistic when it comes to emotional hardships. I think its important to embrace the hard times as well as the easy. I honestly don't count myself a masochist. I think I'm someone who appreciates the value of pain. Pain is an entirely unique feeling, it's the ultimate priority sorter. When you're in pain, your animal instincts kick in and everything suddenly becomes very clear and simple. If you're cold enough, you will find some way to get warm; if you're hungry enough, you'll find something to eat. Your mind automatically prioritizes your life to what you need to survive. I think this is the reason masochists do what they do. I think they feel like every thing's so complicated, and they can't prioritize they're life. They put themselves in situations that are very simple to resolve (I.e. "Put down the knife"). Their brain puts everything together for them, leaving out the complicated, or extremely simplifying it. If it hurts, stop. Very simple. However, I also think that pain in the physical sense, or emotional makes it very easy to see the bright side of things. When everything seems bad, the good stands out especially. Pain falls into 3 different categories: Physical, Emotional, and Spiritual. Some people (we call them masochists) use physical pain to help them to feel something dramatic when their lives feel numb. There are a couple things that make a person truly "feel", Love is one of them, and pain is the other. Pain is the easiest to get to, because you can control it, you can inflict it. Love takes time to build, but usually lasts a lot longer. However, love is also very fragile at times. You can build it for years, and it may fall apart, and what are you left with? Pain. This is why, I think, pain is the preferred method of feeling. Not all people choose physical pain to heighten their sense of feeling, in fact it's not even the majority, not by a long shot. Emotional pain is what most people crave. Everyone who's ever sabotaged a relationship, or even just enjoyed a sad movie inflicts themselves with emotional pain in order to heighten their sense of reality. It's not always a bad thing. Pain is something that was meant to be embraced. When we feel pain, we bond ourselves to each other, because like it or not we all suffer sometimes. Like alcohol, it should be used as a social lubricant. We're able to relate to each other's pain, and share it, like sharing a drink. When you use it correctly, it humbles you, and allows you to see the world from a birds eye view. When you suffer, you learn to seek out compassion, and when you find someone who shows it to you, you learn to trust, and in trusting you learn to love. However, also like alcohol, it can easily be abused. When you lock yourself up, and focus only on the pain, all you will see is pain. Even though you may look for compassion, if you focus too much on the pain itself, you'll miss the love that someone may be trying to show you. I appreciate this pain I've often gone through because I've seen the compassion it leads me to. Trust me when I say, that doesn't mean I don't complain when I find myself in painful situations. In fact, I quite often lament these difficult times, but every time I find the littlest bit of relief; shelter from the rain, or someone to sit and talk with for a bit. I find myself feeling more connected to life, and seeking out the love that's so much more visible in the midst of suffering. We're pessimistic creatures by habit, but there's so much love out there if you look past your own pain, and use it relate to others who also suffer with you.
I walked all around the old city, and through the castle, taking shelter under the scaffolding in the alleyways, or in churches. As I was on my way back, I ran in Mile in the marketplace. She was carrying an umbrella, and noticing I was soaked from head to toe, she chattered something in a language I didn't understand, and gave me her umbrella. umbrella"No, no" I tried to tell her at first, and handed back the umbrella. She insisted and forced the umbrella back into my hands, and them pulled her jacket over her head. I accepted her gift, and thanked her kindly. She spent the rest of the time shopping with only her jacket pulled over her head, and came home sopping wet. When I'd gotten back to the room she had again made me dinner. She gave me a loaf of bread, dates, and a stick of meat which seemed to be some kind of jerky with a side of raw chives. I ate the bread and dates, and a little of the meat, but it was really fatty, so I had trouble getting it down. Mile's been amazingly decent to me these couple days, I'm almost sad I'm leaving in the morning.
Tomorrow I'll begin my journey to Budapest, Hungary. Hopefully it may take all day and night, so we'll see what kind of adventure it turns into. Leave me comments, emails, I love hearing from you all, and it's encouraging to read them and know I'm not doing this alone.
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Thursday, April 17, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Dubrovnik
Last night I sent my blog from the bus from Rijeka. I felt cold, and hungry, and alone. I had no idea what was going to happen to me, where I was going, how long it would take, or what I was going to do even when I got there. After I sent of last night's blog, the lights went out in the bus, and I was able to see outside the windows out over Croatia's jagged coastline. The clouds were parting, slowly shattering like glass allowing the moonlight to penetrate, and the first stars I'd seen since Jerusalem shown brightly in the night sky. The already piercing blue of the Mediterranean mixed with the moonlight, and lit up the waves like neon, catching the moon in them. As they exploded onto the black rocks they came up bright white, and sparkled. I felt at ease watching them, and was reminded of summer nights in San Clemente that looked similar. I caught a few moments of rest, and my frozen fingers began to thaw. I was feeling much better, although still unsure about where I was going, or what was going to happen.
The bus ride lasted for almost exactly 12 hours. In those 12 hours I had gotten very little, if any, sleep. Everytime we stopped, I had to find a way to ask the bus driver which city we were in, in order to make sure I got off at the right one. No one seemed in a hurry to get anywhere, which made me all the more agitated about the length of the journey. It's such a different concept of time over here, it seems. Don't people here have schedules to keep, or places they have to be at certain times? It seems like when people travel here, they plan for it to take days. Transportation is very rarely scheduled everyday, let alone every hour like back home or in the UK.
However, I did get to Dubrovnik, and almost as soon as I got off the bus, I was approached by a little old lady who was apparently trying to ask me if I needed a bed for the night. I'd remembered a couple experienced travelers whom I'd known in the states said that in some of these countries, staying with these little old ladies was the best way to go. I accepted her offer, and she had me follow her a little ways to her home. It consisted of one room with two beds, although from what I'm gathering, I think this is just a guest house, and she sleeps elsewhere. At least that's what I'm hoping. She's a very nice old lady, however she freaks the crap out of me, and just plain gives me the heebie jeebies. Her name's Mile (pronounced Meela), and she's gotta be in her late 80's. She has very few teeth, and likes to feel my hands as she laughs in my face. She's got these stumpy, craggly troll-like fingers, and the only words she can speak in English she says constantly as if she's playing a game with herself to see how many times she can say them in a given time frame. "Ok no problem, Super! Super! Bye Bye!" She says over and over again, as she holds my hand and laughs. She's always trying to feed me really odd, gross food. She poured me some water when I arrived which was, I'm not even kidding, murky brown and yellow. I almost started to drink it without looking, but it was the giant hairball floating at the top which first caught my eye and I, politely as I could, set the poison down on the table, whilst trying fervently to keep a smile. We haggled over a price for 2 nights, and eventually settled upon 100 kuna a night (which I believe is roughly 25 dollars a night), and then she showed me around making sure to show me each thing 500 times, and shout the words English words she knew, and laugh. After she had gone, I went out myself, and explored the city. The first thing I looked for was the castle that I knew was here, supposedly right on the coast near a beautiful beach. I was surprised when I had arrived, and didn't see it, but upon following signs and walking for quite some distance, I finally found it. The old woman, unfortunately seems to live pretty far away from this beautiful place, although I'm pretty sure finding a place closer would be a lot more expensive, and as of right now, I'm situated more in the local area it seems, which might be kinda cool. Also, who wants to miss out on this adventure, trying not to be poisoned by a sweet old lady's hospitality?
I walked all through the castle, and marveled at it's beauty sitting right up on the shores. The sun was out, and the birds were singing, boats were sailing. It was absolutely wonderful! I laid out for a while on one of the rocks near the shore, right next to one of the giant towers of the Croatian Castle. When I'd soaked up enough sun, and explored the walls of the Castle, I made my way back to Mile's house, stopping along the way at a local restaurant for some lunch. When I got back, Mile had prepared me some more yellow water, a loaf of bread, a bowl of cookies, some apples, and a plate of something under a napkin. Curious, I lifted the napkin, and there stood an assortment of pickled fish heads staring back at me. The smell alone was enough to startle. "Good Lord!" I cried out, wafting the smell away, and returning the napkin to its original state. I drank some of the water from my water bottle which still had a little left in it, and poured out the water she had given me into the sink, so she'd think I drank it and thus not have her feelings hurt. I wasn't sure what to do with the fish heads, they stank up the room, but I didn't want her to feel bad, so I just set them aside, as far away from me I could get them. I laid down on the bed, and took a nice long nap. It was so good to sleep, I almost forgot about the smell of rancid pickled fish.
When I woke up, I found some American programing on one of the 5 Croatian channels she had on her 30 year old TV, and watched Friends, and some made-for-TV movie. For dinner I ate the apples and loaf of bread she laid out, and a couple cookies for dessert. Today was a pretty good day, and very much needed.
However, the thought is still on my mind of how I'm going to get out of here again when the time comes to do so. I visited the bus station earlier, and found out all I could about international travel here. They gave me the number of the tiny local airport here, they have no train station, and then the only bus that helps at all goes through the middle of Bosnia. I called the airport, but the cheapest flight out runs about 700 US Dollars. I called my dad, and got him in on the search as well, but he couldn't find much better. So it seems to be my best option to travel by bus through Bosnia to get to Hungary on the other side. No one could tell me if I'd be able to get another bus once in Bosnia, but the idea is to take the bus from Dubrovnik to the Capital City of Bosnia (I can't remember the name), then from there take another bus into Budapest, Hungary. I estimate the trip (if it works) will take about 16 to 20 hours. That's a long time to spend on a bus, and another full day gone. However, that may be the only option. It seems I kinda backed myself into a corner down here in the Dalmatian Coast, so far from the rest of where I wanted to go. I guess I just didn't realize these countries were so big, and things so far away from each other. Rookie Mistake.
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The bus ride lasted for almost exactly 12 hours. In those 12 hours I had gotten very little, if any, sleep. Everytime we stopped, I had to find a way to ask the bus driver which city we were in, in order to make sure I got off at the right one. No one seemed in a hurry to get anywhere, which made me all the more agitated about the length of the journey. It's such a different concept of time over here, it seems. Don't people here have schedules to keep, or places they have to be at certain times? It seems like when people travel here, they plan for it to take days. Transportation is very rarely scheduled everyday, let alone every hour like back home or in the UK.
However, I did get to Dubrovnik, and almost as soon as I got off the bus, I was approached by a little old lady who was apparently trying to ask me if I needed a bed for the night. I'd remembered a couple experienced travelers whom I'd known in the states said that in some of these countries, staying with these little old ladies was the best way to go. I accepted her offer, and she had me follow her a little ways to her home. It consisted of one room with two beds, although from what I'm gathering, I think this is just a guest house, and she sleeps elsewhere. At least that's what I'm hoping. She's a very nice old lady, however she freaks the crap out of me, and just plain gives me the heebie jeebies. Her name's Mile (pronounced Meela), and she's gotta be in her late 80's. She has very few teeth, and likes to feel my hands as she laughs in my face. She's got these stumpy, craggly troll-like fingers, and the only words she can speak in English she says constantly as if she's playing a game with herself to see how many times she can say them in a given time frame. "Ok no problem, Super! Super! Bye Bye!" She says over and over again, as she holds my hand and laughs. She's always trying to feed me really odd, gross food. She poured me some water when I arrived which was, I'm not even kidding, murky brown and yellow. I almost started to drink it without looking, but it was the giant hairball floating at the top which first caught my eye and I, politely as I could, set the poison down on the table, whilst trying fervently to keep a smile. We haggled over a price for 2 nights, and eventually settled upon 100 kuna a night (which I believe is roughly 25 dollars a night), and then she showed me around making sure to show me each thing 500 times, and shout the words English words she knew, and laugh. After she had gone, I went out myself, and explored the city. The first thing I looked for was the castle that I knew was here, supposedly right on the coast near a beautiful beach. I was surprised when I had arrived, and didn't see it, but upon following signs and walking for quite some distance, I finally found it. The old woman, unfortunately seems to live pretty far away from this beautiful place, although I'm pretty sure finding a place closer would be a lot more expensive, and as of right now, I'm situated more in the local area it seems, which might be kinda cool. Also, who wants to miss out on this adventure, trying not to be poisoned by a sweet old lady's hospitality?
I walked all through the castle, and marveled at it's beauty sitting right up on the shores. The sun was out, and the birds were singing, boats were sailing. It was absolutely wonderful! I laid out for a while on one of the rocks near the shore, right next to one of the giant towers of the Croatian Castle. When I'd soaked up enough sun, and explored the walls of the Castle, I made my way back to Mile's house, stopping along the way at a local restaurant for some lunch. When I got back, Mile had prepared me some more yellow water, a loaf of bread, a bowl of cookies, some apples, and a plate of something under a napkin. Curious, I lifted the napkin, and there stood an assortment of pickled fish heads staring back at me. The smell alone was enough to startle. "Good Lord!" I cried out, wafting the smell away, and returning the napkin to its original state. I drank some of the water from my water bottle which still had a little left in it, and poured out the water she had given me into the sink, so she'd think I drank it and thus not have her feelings hurt. I wasn't sure what to do with the fish heads, they stank up the room, but I didn't want her to feel bad, so I just set them aside, as far away from me I could get them. I laid down on the bed, and took a nice long nap. It was so good to sleep, I almost forgot about the smell of rancid pickled fish.
When I woke up, I found some American programing on one of the 5 Croatian channels she had on her 30 year old TV, and watched Friends, and some made-for-TV movie. For dinner I ate the apples and loaf of bread she laid out, and a couple cookies for dessert. Today was a pretty good day, and very much needed.
However, the thought is still on my mind of how I'm going to get out of here again when the time comes to do so. I visited the bus station earlier, and found out all I could about international travel here. They gave me the number of the tiny local airport here, they have no train station, and then the only bus that helps at all goes through the middle of Bosnia. I called the airport, but the cheapest flight out runs about 700 US Dollars. I called my dad, and got him in on the search as well, but he couldn't find much better. So it seems to be my best option to travel by bus through Bosnia to get to Hungary on the other side. No one could tell me if I'd be able to get another bus once in Bosnia, but the idea is to take the bus from Dubrovnik to the Capital City of Bosnia (I can't remember the name), then from there take another bus into Budapest, Hungary. I estimate the trip (if it works) will take about 16 to 20 hours. That's a long time to spend on a bus, and another full day gone. However, that may be the only option. It seems I kinda backed myself into a corner down here in the Dalmatian Coast, so far from the rest of where I wanted to go. I guess I just didn't realize these countries were so big, and things so far away from each other. Rookie Mistake.
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Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Rijeka
This morning I awoke early, and got down to the lobby for breakfast. I was earlier than usual because after breakfast I'd wanted to go over to the bus station and find the earliest bus over to Dubrovnik. Upon reaching the bus station I'd learned that there was no way to get from here to Dubrovnik, I had to first go through Rijeka, then from there I could get another bus to Dubrovnik. It seemed really round about, but at least this way I'd be able to see a lot more of Croatia even than I had originally planned. I asked for the earliest time I could leave for Rijeka, and the woman behind the counter told me 10:50. This meant I still had around 2 hours, and I had already checked out of my hotel. So I sat there as it began to rain, and I found some shelter under a tarp where some tables where set up outside a bar next door. As I was waiting, I somehow bumped into the tour guide of the German tour group from the night before who remembered me and made small talk with me like he'd known me for years. I hadn't realized I had made such an impression on him in our brief encounter on the ferry ride where I'd mostly just slept through the majority of his shbeals, where I didn't understand the language anyway. However, he seemed genuinely friendly, and I told him of my plans to go on from here to Rijeka to catch a bus to Dubrovnik. He said a ferry from Rijeka might be cheaper, and would be the way he would do it. I thanked him for the advice, and he headed off with the old Germans to the next leg of their exciting adventure, and soon after, I headed off to mine.
I found my bus, and climbed on. Unfortunately, the bus driver didn't speak a word of English, so I had to get the whole rest of the bus involved in letting me know I was in the right place. It comes off as an annoyance to most people, but it's important that I make absolutely sure. So far, Croatian people seem very irritated with me. I can't speak a word of their language, and a lot less people speak English here than most places I've been so far. Needless to say, as soon as I open my mouth, I stick out like a sore thumb, and everyone gives me the "you're a tourist" attitude.
When we arrived in Rijeka, I walked straight over to where the ferries were. Luckily, it wasn't much of a walk because the bus station is like right next door. I asked around a bit, and finally found the place to book tickets. To my dismay, I was told that ferry service to Dubrovnik is only on Mondays and Fridays. However, all hope wasn't lost. I still had the bus station next door, so I walked back over there and asked for the soonest ticket to Dubrovnik. I was delighted by the fact that they had one available, however, the next bus didn't leave till 8:30pm. Which means I had 8 hours. Well, what a great opportunity for me to spend a day in Rijeka before I leave that night to Dubrovnik. The rain was reduced to a light mist, and I prayed that it would soon stop all together, and that the sun might come out for a bit while I relaxed here by the harbor and perhaps on the beach for the day. My prayers went unanswered as it began to rain even harder as the day went on. I found a tourist map, and guessed at where I might find a beach that I'd be able to walk to and began off in that direction. I walked for a long ways, and found no beach, just endless miles of industrial docks leading to a few homes build on the rocky shore line. I found a quiet little park during my walk, and stopped to watch the birds quickly feeding during the rare break in the rain. I began reading my book, "Children of Hurin" By JRR Tolkien, and throughout most of the day I alternated ducking from shelter to shelter wherever I could find it, and reading my book. It was difficult just walking into a bar or restaurant to warm up here, as I've done in other countries. They don't allow you to stay unless you buy something, and even then, as soon as your finished they usually kick you out. Even the bathrooms were all locked with a special key code, and you had to pay for something in order to receive the code. I think that's absolutely cruel. However, I cheated the system a little though, by buying a water at a local McDonalds and then just keeping the key code with me (figuring it'll work for all day), then every time I needed to go to the bathroom, I just returned to that same place and used the key code.
Although, I couldn't do much for the rain situation. It got increasingly colder, and the rain got thicker as the day progressed. There was very little shelter, and even that couldn't hide me from the bone chilling wind. All day I sat wet and shivering, praying for 8:30 but each time finding still hours between. This was not what I'd had in mind for spending my time in Croatia. I don't know what's going on. I haven't had weather this cold since the UK in early march. I was angry that the weather was so terrible, and I was stuck here unable to do anything about it, or even take shelter from it. I was just doomed to hide in allyways and under trees, and shiver until I couldn't feel the cold anymore. Finally, after what seemed like days, having walked around the whole city several times, I found my bus, barely (It was, for some reason, sitting in the wrong terminal. Thank God I had a sneaking suspicion that that bus might just be the one I'm looking for), I made it on to the bus literally 2 minutes before it would have pulled away, and I would have still been sitting there waiting for a bus what would never have come.
I'm on the bus now, and supposedly this time I should be getting to Dubrovnik, although I don't know when. This has been the hardest part of my journey. I'm having such a hard time. I'm wet and cold, and tired, and weary of travel and of feeling like a fish out of water. Still, I'm no where near giving up. This journey was meant to be difficult from the beginning, and I'm thankful that God's provided the way thus far. Even now I'm on my way somewhere, even if I don't know where. God's also never left me wanting yet for food or a place to stay for the night, which I'd expected would be the first to go. Even if he does allow me to do without that too, I'll still be thankful that I've had it. I just have to keep going, even though I'm spiritually at my lowest right now. Pray for me please. I feel I need help, a friend, something.
It'd be easy for me to say I miss home, in truth I miss a lot about home, but my heart has never been happier than it's been to see the world these months. What would the Glory of this time be, without an epic struggle for it. True Glory is not for the faint of heart.
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I found my bus, and climbed on. Unfortunately, the bus driver didn't speak a word of English, so I had to get the whole rest of the bus involved in letting me know I was in the right place. It comes off as an annoyance to most people, but it's important that I make absolutely sure. So far, Croatian people seem very irritated with me. I can't speak a word of their language, and a lot less people speak English here than most places I've been so far. Needless to say, as soon as I open my mouth, I stick out like a sore thumb, and everyone gives me the "you're a tourist" attitude.
When we arrived in Rijeka, I walked straight over to where the ferries were. Luckily, it wasn't much of a walk because the bus station is like right next door. I asked around a bit, and finally found the place to book tickets. To my dismay, I was told that ferry service to Dubrovnik is only on Mondays and Fridays. However, all hope wasn't lost. I still had the bus station next door, so I walked back over there and asked for the soonest ticket to Dubrovnik. I was delighted by the fact that they had one available, however, the next bus didn't leave till 8:30pm. Which means I had 8 hours. Well, what a great opportunity for me to spend a day in Rijeka before I leave that night to Dubrovnik. The rain was reduced to a light mist, and I prayed that it would soon stop all together, and that the sun might come out for a bit while I relaxed here by the harbor and perhaps on the beach for the day. My prayers went unanswered as it began to rain even harder as the day went on. I found a tourist map, and guessed at where I might find a beach that I'd be able to walk to and began off in that direction. I walked for a long ways, and found no beach, just endless miles of industrial docks leading to a few homes build on the rocky shore line. I found a quiet little park during my walk, and stopped to watch the birds quickly feeding during the rare break in the rain. I began reading my book, "Children of Hurin" By JRR Tolkien, and throughout most of the day I alternated ducking from shelter to shelter wherever I could find it, and reading my book. It was difficult just walking into a bar or restaurant to warm up here, as I've done in other countries. They don't allow you to stay unless you buy something, and even then, as soon as your finished they usually kick you out. Even the bathrooms were all locked with a special key code, and you had to pay for something in order to receive the code. I think that's absolutely cruel. However, I cheated the system a little though, by buying a water at a local McDonalds and then just keeping the key code with me (figuring it'll work for all day), then every time I needed to go to the bathroom, I just returned to that same place and used the key code.
Although, I couldn't do much for the rain situation. It got increasingly colder, and the rain got thicker as the day progressed. There was very little shelter, and even that couldn't hide me from the bone chilling wind. All day I sat wet and shivering, praying for 8:30 but each time finding still hours between. This was not what I'd had in mind for spending my time in Croatia. I don't know what's going on. I haven't had weather this cold since the UK in early march. I was angry that the weather was so terrible, and I was stuck here unable to do anything about it, or even take shelter from it. I was just doomed to hide in allyways and under trees, and shiver until I couldn't feel the cold anymore. Finally, after what seemed like days, having walked around the whole city several times, I found my bus, barely (It was, for some reason, sitting in the wrong terminal. Thank God I had a sneaking suspicion that that bus might just be the one I'm looking for), I made it on to the bus literally 2 minutes before it would have pulled away, and I would have still been sitting there waiting for a bus what would never have come.
I'm on the bus now, and supposedly this time I should be getting to Dubrovnik, although I don't know when. This has been the hardest part of my journey. I'm having such a hard time. I'm wet and cold, and tired, and weary of travel and of feeling like a fish out of water. Still, I'm no where near giving up. This journey was meant to be difficult from the beginning, and I'm thankful that God's provided the way thus far. Even now I'm on my way somewhere, even if I don't know where. God's also never left me wanting yet for food or a place to stay for the night, which I'd expected would be the first to go. Even if he does allow me to do without that too, I'll still be thankful that I've had it. I just have to keep going, even though I'm spiritually at my lowest right now. Pray for me please. I feel I need help, a friend, something.
It'd be easy for me to say I miss home, in truth I miss a lot about home, but my heart has never been happier than it's been to see the world these months. What would the Glory of this time be, without an epic struggle for it. True Glory is not for the faint of heart.
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Monday, April 14, 2008
Croatia?
In the morning I had breakfast down in the main lobby of the hotel I stayed at. It was slightly better here than at the last hotel, or maybe I was just hungrier. It's hard to tell. I tried to take my time checking out. I had all day till I needed to be at the ferry station, and I didn't want to be stuck hauling my backpack all over the city. At the other hotel they kicked me out at 11, however I didn't see any kind of a checkout time in the lobby so I tried to stay as long as possible, perhaps get some sleep. I had barely slept at all last night, I was up writing the previous night's blog while watching some TV in my room. I finally turned it off for the night and was awaken about an hour later when the TV suddenly turned itself back on. I thought I had rolled over the remote, but I found the remote still sitting on the nightstand where I'd left it. I turned it off again, making sure to press the same button, thinking it might have been possible I accidently set some kind of timer. However, the TV remained off this time.The whole ordeal freaked me out, and I had trouble getting to sleep the rest of the night. I need to start getting back to places with hostels. This whole "on my own" thing is starting to mess with my head.
After I'd finally checked out. It was still only about 12:30, so I hung out in the ferry for a while. I was hoping to buy my ticket for the ferry while I waiting there, but there was no one at the ticket counter. I asked some of the guards how I buy a ticket for the ferry to Dubrovnik. They all pointed to the empty counter as if I was stupid. "There's no one there" I defended myself. Several times over, I got the same response. They looked surprised, shrugged, and said "I dunno, wait a couple minutes, someone'll be there." Two hours I waited, and no one came. Someone told me to come back at 4 when the ferry gets here, and then I could buy my ticket. All right, well that leaves me with another 2 hours to kill. I grabbed my stuff and walked down the harbor for a while. I bought one last gelato in Italy before I was off to Croatia, and watched the boats on the mediterranean.
As I was heading back, A seagull dove down and grabbed something in the water, then flung it at a man sitting on the dock. It just missed his head and landed right about at my feet. I look down to see what it was. It was a huge squid! It was about the size and shape of a water bottle, in fact that's what I thought it was at first, but it was actually a live gigantic squid! I thought it was pretty awesome, I'd never seen anything like that before. Only in Venice.
I returned to the ferry station only to find nothing was different. There was still absolutely no one in the ticket office, and way too many guards standing around a single metal detector. 90 percent of the people in the station were guards, and there was one metal detector, so the rest of the guards had absolutely nothing to do but cluster around and gossip like it was the 5th grade. I asked one of them to help me figure out why there was still no one able to sell me a ticket, and the ferry was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago. He shugged like they all do, and said it wasn't his job. I wanted so badly to say "well what IS your job!?" But I resisted. I just sat by the metal detector planning that when the ferry arrived, I was just going to go through and try to get on the ferry without a ticket. I was fairly certain this place was so unorganized, I could just walk by and no one would ask questions.
It didn't end up happening like that though. At about half past, A huge German tour group came through. Of course, immediately they were allowed to board. They asked me for my ticket. I wanted to scream. "I've got no ticket! There's no one in the ticket office." They again checked the ticket office, once again baffled that there was no one there. Finally, one of the guys came over to me trying to help. I told him what I was trying to do, and he told me there aren't any ferry lines to Croatia today, just tour boats. I was about to get upset, but then he told me to wait here for a second. He was gone for a couple of minutes. I saw him talking to the leaders of the German tour group who kept looking back at me and shaking their heads. He finally returned, and said He'd get me on the boat, I just had to show my passport to the captain so he can log me down in the the books, and then slip him 50 euros.
I agreed, and then somehow ended up on a cruise ship full of old Germans for 4 hours to Croatia. The tour guide was way to excited as he welcomed the group of seniors to the voyage with a Mickey Mouse club type enthusiasm. A couple rows down, a group of 6 or 7 ladies periodically broke out into song, and the old man sleeping next to me occasionally spurted out angry sounding german sentence fragments which I can guess must have come from his days as a Hitler Youth.
At last we arrived in the harbor, and de-boarded. I wandered around these new docks as darkness set in, however I didn't see anything anywhere that said Dubrovnik on it. Just to be sure, I stopped at a shop by the docks, and asked what city this was. "Porec" he told me, with a confused look on his face. I ran back to the boat just as it was shoving off. I flagged down one of the dock workers. "I needed to go to Dubrovnik!" I told him. "That boat says Dubrovnik!" He told me it was just the name of the boat. It doesn't go to Dubrovnik. If I wanted to get to Dubrovnik I'd have to find a bus and travel all night. He showed me where to find the bus station, and I ran there. However, by the time I got there, it was all closed up. I sat there at the bus station for a while in the dark trying to figure out my next move, when I noticed a hotel next door. I walked in, and picked up a map to see where exactly I was. The good news was that I was in Croatia. I was just in the wrong part. I asked when the bus station would be open again, and they told me around 7am tomorrow. Again, I was sort of left without many options. I booked a fairly cheap room for the night. Tomorrow morning I'll try to catch a bus to Dubrovnik, and we'll see if that all works out. However, I'll get to see a little more of Croatia than I'd planned, so that's good, but it looks like I'll be flying through this country just like all the others.
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After I'd finally checked out. It was still only about 12:30, so I hung out in the ferry for a while. I was hoping to buy my ticket for the ferry while I waiting there, but there was no one at the ticket counter. I asked some of the guards how I buy a ticket for the ferry to Dubrovnik. They all pointed to the empty counter as if I was stupid. "There's no one there" I defended myself. Several times over, I got the same response. They looked surprised, shrugged, and said "I dunno, wait a couple minutes, someone'll be there." Two hours I waited, and no one came. Someone told me to come back at 4 when the ferry gets here, and then I could buy my ticket. All right, well that leaves me with another 2 hours to kill. I grabbed my stuff and walked down the harbor for a while. I bought one last gelato in Italy before I was off to Croatia, and watched the boats on the mediterranean.
As I was heading back, A seagull dove down and grabbed something in the water, then flung it at a man sitting on the dock. It just missed his head and landed right about at my feet. I look down to see what it was. It was a huge squid! It was about the size and shape of a water bottle, in fact that's what I thought it was at first, but it was actually a live gigantic squid! I thought it was pretty awesome, I'd never seen anything like that before. Only in Venice.
I returned to the ferry station only to find nothing was different. There was still absolutely no one in the ticket office, and way too many guards standing around a single metal detector. 90 percent of the people in the station were guards, and there was one metal detector, so the rest of the guards had absolutely nothing to do but cluster around and gossip like it was the 5th grade. I asked one of them to help me figure out why there was still no one able to sell me a ticket, and the ferry was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago. He shugged like they all do, and said it wasn't his job. I wanted so badly to say "well what IS your job!?" But I resisted. I just sat by the metal detector planning that when the ferry arrived, I was just going to go through and try to get on the ferry without a ticket. I was fairly certain this place was so unorganized, I could just walk by and no one would ask questions.
It didn't end up happening like that though. At about half past, A huge German tour group came through. Of course, immediately they were allowed to board. They asked me for my ticket. I wanted to scream. "I've got no ticket! There's no one in the ticket office." They again checked the ticket office, once again baffled that there was no one there. Finally, one of the guys came over to me trying to help. I told him what I was trying to do, and he told me there aren't any ferry lines to Croatia today, just tour boats. I was about to get upset, but then he told me to wait here for a second. He was gone for a couple of minutes. I saw him talking to the leaders of the German tour group who kept looking back at me and shaking their heads. He finally returned, and said He'd get me on the boat, I just had to show my passport to the captain so he can log me down in the the books, and then slip him 50 euros.
I agreed, and then somehow ended up on a cruise ship full of old Germans for 4 hours to Croatia. The tour guide was way to excited as he welcomed the group of seniors to the voyage with a Mickey Mouse club type enthusiasm. A couple rows down, a group of 6 or 7 ladies periodically broke out into song, and the old man sleeping next to me occasionally spurted out angry sounding german sentence fragments which I can guess must have come from his days as a Hitler Youth.
At last we arrived in the harbor, and de-boarded. I wandered around these new docks as darkness set in, however I didn't see anything anywhere that said Dubrovnik on it. Just to be sure, I stopped at a shop by the docks, and asked what city this was. "Porec" he told me, with a confused look on his face. I ran back to the boat just as it was shoving off. I flagged down one of the dock workers. "I needed to go to Dubrovnik!" I told him. "That boat says Dubrovnik!" He told me it was just the name of the boat. It doesn't go to Dubrovnik. If I wanted to get to Dubrovnik I'd have to find a bus and travel all night. He showed me where to find the bus station, and I ran there. However, by the time I got there, it was all closed up. I sat there at the bus station for a while in the dark trying to figure out my next move, when I noticed a hotel next door. I walked in, and picked up a map to see where exactly I was. The good news was that I was in Croatia. I was just in the wrong part. I asked when the bus station would be open again, and they told me around 7am tomorrow. Again, I was sort of left without many options. I booked a fairly cheap room for the night. Tomorrow morning I'll try to catch a bus to Dubrovnik, and we'll see if that all works out. However, I'll get to see a little more of Croatia than I'd planned, so that's good, but it looks like I'll be flying through this country just like all the others.
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Sunday, April 13, 2008
Trapped in paradise
Today I awoke, and packed up my stuff, ready to catch my ferry to Dubrovnik. I checked out of my hotel, and began the long haul to the other side of the city where the docks are. The streets where especially crowded, and my patience was tested more than once by the frequent tour group, or old lady who just had to have a picture on the tiny bridge, and didn't care about the hundreds of the rest of us trying to squeeze around them. I've grown accustomed to pushing around little old ladies, and small children with ballet dancer precision. Europeans are usually pretty good about staying out of my way when I'm carrying my backpack. I think seeing me struggling with every ounce of me to haul on one more block, sure my back will break at any moment, reminds them of the time they did something similar once themselves. I usually get a friendly nod, and they clear the way for me as I go by. A couple hours later, I reached the docks where the ferry station was. Upon reaching it, I couldn't see anyone inside. I pulled on the handle of the door, hoping by some chance they were all just somewhere else at that moment. However, the door wouldn't budge. I slumped down onto the ground, defeated. The sweat rolled off my face in almond sized drops. I laid there for a while wondering what went wrong. A ways down, a fishing boat pulled into harbor, so I gathered my things and asked them how I could get get to Croatia today. They seemed as surprised that the ferry station was closed as I was, but one of them walked a ways down the harbor to another station with me to see what was going on. We talked to a guard, and he told us every thing's closed down here on Sundays, so I'd just have to come back tomorrow. I was stuck here for another day, and I had just checked out of my hotel which was miles in the other direction anyway. I thanked the sailors for their help, and then I walked down the harbor trying to figure out what to do now.
I began to come to terms with the idea of just crashing on a wall by the harbor, and sleeping there for the night out on the street. I walked inward as far I could go to where I thought might be a place away from the cold air of the sea, and one that might stay populated through the majority of the night. As I prepared to collapse onto the street, I noticed another hotel right there. I thought I'd give it a shot and see if they have anything available fairly cheap. To my astonishment, they did. It seemed, for the moment, I was saved from spending a night on the street. I decided that today I'd just spend resting. I've had a hard time lately dealing with the little stresses, and loneliness has started to set in. I thought I needed some time for rest, trying to calm myself down and focus my mind on the things that are important.
I did find some rest, I slept a little, and then I started to feel anxious, like I needed to get out my room for a while. I walked around the nearby area, and saw a guy handing out flyers for an Opera playing tonight. La Boheme was being performed in an Opera house not far from San Marco, so I decided I'd go see that tonight. However, I still had like 4 hours till the show started. I found my way to the theater, and bought a ticket just to make sure I'd have one, and to know where exactly the theater was, then I walked over and sat down by the canal. I got an email from Jordan, whom I had talked to the night before, so I knew an email was coming. Jordan missed me back home, and he had expressed in this and earlier emails and phone conversations that he'd been figuring out some things about his own life, by reading about mine, which I loved to hear, and he's always given me some amazing insights and we've shared our thoughts back and forth. However, one thing he had written in this email stuck out to me in particular. When I saw it, I must have read it over a thousand times. He was commenting on my solitude I had in Fiesole, and he said "What is it that's going to make you proud of the person who looks back at you in the mirror?" It stung me, like a sharp pain in my chest. Just reading that question suddenly opened up a screaming match in my mind between two warring sides of myself. The one said, "What do I have to do to make you proud of me!?" As if a child to his father. The other coldly replied, "there's nothing you can do." I had worked and prayed so hard in my solitude in the Tuscan forest, and I think I had finally come to a point where I had forgiven God, but I now think maybe God wasn't the issue here. I need to forgive myself.
I think I blamed God for my inability to forgive. I decided I was his, and so it was in his jurisdiction to fix the problem I had with the pain that I felt. In the same way your landlord fixes the broken dishwasher. But somehow it doesn't seem to work that way. I tried to give the pain away to make God deal with it, but I never came to terms with it myself. I never forgave myself. I still haven't. The wound is still so fresh that upon reopening it, my body began to tremble. It's a shiver that originates deep within the core of me, and drains the blood from my hands and face. Coming to terms with God was the easy part. This is the hard part. I have to face myself. FORGIVE me God for what I've done! For WHO I am! I wish I could tear this flesh from my bones, and force this heart from my chest. I'm embarrassed that this issue of self worth weighs so heavily on my heart. It's a secret only my deepest nightmares know. "What did I even do wrong? What sin have I committed to merit such abandonment?" I hear the voice ask through childlike tears. To be honest, I can't myself fully figure it out. I rack my brain to come up with some answers, but still it eludes me. What has my memory blocked out for sheer volume of pain? Why do I still I torture myself for a sin I don't know the name of? There are things I've done I'm not proud of. I've murdered thousands in my darker thoughts, and said awful things aloud. I've lustfully ravished countless women within the depths of my mind and soul. I've even given over my heart to what would seem like love to turn out to be nothing more than hormonal exhaust. I've been used, and used others just as well. My sins are not written on notecards, packaged up in file cabinets like Brian Moore's, but ingraved on the backs of my eyelids, here to see now, every time I close my eyes. These things may all contribute to who I am, and why I can't find forgiveness, but there's more in me that hurts far deeper, so that I can't even reach so far inside. I don't even know where to begin to solve a problem so big. It's beyond me.
One thing to remember here is that I'm very clearly unworthy of forgiveness, but God did forgive me. So why can't I forgive myself? I tried to make myself say it out loud, and I did it, but I didn't really mean it. You can't make yourself forgive, and mean it, any more than you can make a stubborn child. Also, the truth sets in on the loneliness issue. How can anyone love me, when I can't even love me?
After the opera, I thought about it some more, and still got no further. As I said before, this is the hardest part of my journey. From here on out, I tread on dangerous ground.
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I began to come to terms with the idea of just crashing on a wall by the harbor, and sleeping there for the night out on the street. I walked inward as far I could go to where I thought might be a place away from the cold air of the sea, and one that might stay populated through the majority of the night. As I prepared to collapse onto the street, I noticed another hotel right there. I thought I'd give it a shot and see if they have anything available fairly cheap. To my astonishment, they did. It seemed, for the moment, I was saved from spending a night on the street. I decided that today I'd just spend resting. I've had a hard time lately dealing with the little stresses, and loneliness has started to set in. I thought I needed some time for rest, trying to calm myself down and focus my mind on the things that are important.
I did find some rest, I slept a little, and then I started to feel anxious, like I needed to get out my room for a while. I walked around the nearby area, and saw a guy handing out flyers for an Opera playing tonight. La Boheme was being performed in an Opera house not far from San Marco, so I decided I'd go see that tonight. However, I still had like 4 hours till the show started. I found my way to the theater, and bought a ticket just to make sure I'd have one, and to know where exactly the theater was, then I walked over and sat down by the canal. I got an email from Jordan, whom I had talked to the night before, so I knew an email was coming. Jordan missed me back home, and he had expressed in this and earlier emails and phone conversations that he'd been figuring out some things about his own life, by reading about mine, which I loved to hear, and he's always given me some amazing insights and we've shared our thoughts back and forth. However, one thing he had written in this email stuck out to me in particular. When I saw it, I must have read it over a thousand times. He was commenting on my solitude I had in Fiesole, and he said "What is it that's going to make you proud of the person who looks back at you in the mirror?" It stung me, like a sharp pain in my chest. Just reading that question suddenly opened up a screaming match in my mind between two warring sides of myself. The one said, "What do I have to do to make you proud of me!?" As if a child to his father. The other coldly replied, "there's nothing you can do." I had worked and prayed so hard in my solitude in the Tuscan forest, and I think I had finally come to a point where I had forgiven God, but I now think maybe God wasn't the issue here. I need to forgive myself.
I think I blamed God for my inability to forgive. I decided I was his, and so it was in his jurisdiction to fix the problem I had with the pain that I felt. In the same way your landlord fixes the broken dishwasher. But somehow it doesn't seem to work that way. I tried to give the pain away to make God deal with it, but I never came to terms with it myself. I never forgave myself. I still haven't. The wound is still so fresh that upon reopening it, my body began to tremble. It's a shiver that originates deep within the core of me, and drains the blood from my hands and face. Coming to terms with God was the easy part. This is the hard part. I have to face myself. FORGIVE me God for what I've done! For WHO I am! I wish I could tear this flesh from my bones, and force this heart from my chest. I'm embarrassed that this issue of self worth weighs so heavily on my heart. It's a secret only my deepest nightmares know. "What did I even do wrong? What sin have I committed to merit such abandonment?" I hear the voice ask through childlike tears. To be honest, I can't myself fully figure it out. I rack my brain to come up with some answers, but still it eludes me. What has my memory blocked out for sheer volume of pain? Why do I still I torture myself for a sin I don't know the name of? There are things I've done I'm not proud of. I've murdered thousands in my darker thoughts, and said awful things aloud. I've lustfully ravished countless women within the depths of my mind and soul. I've even given over my heart to what would seem like love to turn out to be nothing more than hormonal exhaust. I've been used, and used others just as well. My sins are not written on notecards, packaged up in file cabinets like Brian Moore's, but ingraved on the backs of my eyelids, here to see now, every time I close my eyes. These things may all contribute to who I am, and why I can't find forgiveness, but there's more in me that hurts far deeper, so that I can't even reach so far inside. I don't even know where to begin to solve a problem so big. It's beyond me.
One thing to remember here is that I'm very clearly unworthy of forgiveness, but God did forgive me. So why can't I forgive myself? I tried to make myself say it out loud, and I did it, but I didn't really mean it. You can't make yourself forgive, and mean it, any more than you can make a stubborn child. Also, the truth sets in on the loneliness issue. How can anyone love me, when I can't even love me?
After the opera, I thought about it some more, and still got no further. As I said before, this is the hardest part of my journey. From here on out, I tread on dangerous ground.
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Venice, Italy
Last night after finishing my blog, I went out walking for a little bit trying to find a phone signal. The night air in Venice smells like the inside of The Pirates of the Caribbean ride. To some people that just smelled like cigarette smoke and chlorine, but to me it always smelled like adventure. Standing on one of the many bridges over the canals I stared at the reflection of the street lamps in the deep green water. It was quiet, not like the other cities in Italy. Just a few murmurs of the sea slapping up against marble steps, and distant bells from boats swaying in the canals. I felt a little out of place walking out on the streets by myself. Everyone else out tonight had someone to walk with. Even seemingly platonic groups of people were sectioned off into couples. Not a single odd number of people walked the street last night, save for me. Venice seems an amazing city for someone who has someone. However, not the place to be single. It was lonely walking romantic seaside alleyways, watching Gondolas carrying lovers pass by, and no one to experience it with. I went to bed that night feeling a little incomplete.
In the morning I set out to find my exit strategy out of this country. I also thought I'd try to find an Opera that was playing tonight, so that I might get to experience that in Venice. The man at the front desk of my hotel pointed me towards Pointe Rialto. That was somewhat on the way to one of the docks as well, so I headed in that direction. Venice is a really hard city to navigate, almost more so than Cyprus. You'll be walking in a straight line when suddenly there'll be a giant wall, or a canal in the way, and you'll have to find your way around, but the city's laid out like a maze to where every other street's a dead end. Whoever designed the layout of the city was a very bitter, tormented man, who wanted everyone lost and confused not knowing which way, or in which direction they're going. Luckily, I found that if I stay with the flow of tourists, they lead me right through the main roads. After all the complaining I've done about tourists, wouldn't you know it that they're the one's that finally got me back on track.
I found the Rialto, but no Opera house anywhere. Although there were some cool little fruit stands and shops around that area. I often got sidetracked, stepping into the little shops to look around for a bit. I found my way over to San Marco, hoping there might be some kind of theater there too, but I found nothing. I did find a lot of cool stuff at San Marco though. The place is packed with pigeons, and there's a huge open square where you can buy a hand full of bird seed and get flooded by thousands upon thousands of them. I watched some little kids get so covered that you couldn't see where they were anymore, they just disappeared behind a cloak of pigeons. There was a quartet playing to the side of the square by a little cafe and a fancy hotel. I listened to the music, while watching people get attacked by waves of pigeons. The huge church of San Marco is beautiful as well. Although it kind of reminded me of a lot of other giant churches I saw in other cities in the world, so I wasn't really as impressed as a lot of the other tourists seemed to be. The really big churches seem to be getting almost monotonous now, and kind of annoying. You usually have to wait in line, and sure they're usually beautiful inside, but honestly, they all look curiously similar, as if they were all made by the same architect. If you put them all together though, they're one giant stunning church, which I've now seen about 8 million times. The small churches are nice though. I spend much more time in the small churches. They're often the only places you're allowed to sit down in without buying something, they're quiet, and you can just sit and look at beautiful paintings. I find that I just jump from church, and try to use them as markers of where I've been. Also in big churches, I've noticed that a lot of them charge some kind of entree fee, or have a gift shop at the exit, which really bothers me. Isn't that exactly why Jesus totally lost it and turned over the tables in Jerusalem? People shouldn't treat a church like theme park attraction, but I guess that goes for both the people running the church, and the tourist entering. They shouldn't even have to put signs out that say no pictures. I just always thought that was common knowledge, it just seems so disrespectful to walk into a church, and start snapping photos. I can't say I haven't done it at some point on this trip, but I always felt bad about it, and I never took pictures with the blatant disrespect that I've seen several people do on this trip. People stepping up on the pew to get a better shot, using their flash all over the place. Sometimes it's like the paparazzi. People just amaze me sometimes with how they just miss the point. Why travel to see something you have no respect for? Anyway, that's my ranting.
San Marco is right next to the dock, so I walked along the dock, and inquired about getting a ferry ticket to Dubrovnik on Sunday. From what I gathered, the ferry to Dubrovnik (called The Dubrovnik Princess) comes everyday at 4pm, and you just buy your tickets before you get on. That seems simple enough, so tomorrow I'll get back down to the docks just after 3pm, so I'll be ready to catch by ferry at 4 to Dubrovnik, Croatia.
After I had that all settled, I went window shopping again in the little shops by San Marco. A couple shops were these amazing stationary stores. They were full of these beautiful leather bound journals, and albums. They also sold these awesome wooden fountain pens, and customized wax stamps. A shop just around the corner from there was entirely devoted to old paper mache masquerade masks, and costumes, and hats which all looked like they had come right out of the 16th century. The place was absolutely beautiful. I couldn't believe the artistry on some of these hand painted masks! These masks were some of the most touching works of art I had seen yet! Out of all the famous galleries, and museums I had paid an entree fee to see, this shop held more inspiration to me than the good majority of it. There were masks shaped and painted like animals, some were decorated with feathers, and all of them had the most amazing color schemes and patterns. I found a mask painted in deep reds and golds which had musical notation pained around parts of it. I thought it'd be awesome to have that hanging in my studio back home. It just absolutely lept out at me, and I found it's female counterpart, and planned that I'd hang the two masks together, sort of perhaps making a statement about my feeling lonely here in Venice. The masks were each 18 euros, and the clerk told me It'd be another 30 to ship them home, so I left the store, deciding to walk around, and look at some other stuff as to not pressure myself into buying something. However, a couple hours later, I still really wanted them, but that was a lot of money to spend on something that I can't eat or wear, or doesn't get me to my next place. I called my mom to have her talk me out of the idea, but she said it sounds really cool, and I should go for it. My dad agreed, and my mom even offered to pay for the shipping. So, I went back to the store, happy to find that the ones I wanted were still there where I had left them, and I bought them. I hope it doesn't have too much of a negative affect on the journey. However, I felt really good about buying them, I was so moved by the artwork in them, I felt like I'd bought a little of the Sistine Chapel.
On my way back to the hotel, I got lost again, for a long time wandering through the local alleyways on the opposite side of town, until I finally remembered just to follow the stream of tourists, and I immediately found my way again. I think I need to find myself a compass. I can't always rely on the constant stream of tourists to lead me home, and I seem to get myself lost fairly often.
When I got back to hotel, I was exhausted, so I just decided to run down to the nearby grocery store, pick myself of a couple of beers and some snack food, and lay low watching TV in my hotel for the night. Maybe I'll get to bed a little early tonight. That would be nice!
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In the morning I set out to find my exit strategy out of this country. I also thought I'd try to find an Opera that was playing tonight, so that I might get to experience that in Venice. The man at the front desk of my hotel pointed me towards Pointe Rialto. That was somewhat on the way to one of the docks as well, so I headed in that direction. Venice is a really hard city to navigate, almost more so than Cyprus. You'll be walking in a straight line when suddenly there'll be a giant wall, or a canal in the way, and you'll have to find your way around, but the city's laid out like a maze to where every other street's a dead end. Whoever designed the layout of the city was a very bitter, tormented man, who wanted everyone lost and confused not knowing which way, or in which direction they're going. Luckily, I found that if I stay with the flow of tourists, they lead me right through the main roads. After all the complaining I've done about tourists, wouldn't you know it that they're the one's that finally got me back on track.
I found the Rialto, but no Opera house anywhere. Although there were some cool little fruit stands and shops around that area. I often got sidetracked, stepping into the little shops to look around for a bit. I found my way over to San Marco, hoping there might be some kind of theater there too, but I found nothing. I did find a lot of cool stuff at San Marco though. The place is packed with pigeons, and there's a huge open square where you can buy a hand full of bird seed and get flooded by thousands upon thousands of them. I watched some little kids get so covered that you couldn't see where they were anymore, they just disappeared behind a cloak of pigeons. There was a quartet playing to the side of the square by a little cafe and a fancy hotel. I listened to the music, while watching people get attacked by waves of pigeons. The huge church of San Marco is beautiful as well. Although it kind of reminded me of a lot of other giant churches I saw in other cities in the world, so I wasn't really as impressed as a lot of the other tourists seemed to be. The really big churches seem to be getting almost monotonous now, and kind of annoying. You usually have to wait in line, and sure they're usually beautiful inside, but honestly, they all look curiously similar, as if they were all made by the same architect. If you put them all together though, they're one giant stunning church, which I've now seen about 8 million times. The small churches are nice though. I spend much more time in the small churches. They're often the only places you're allowed to sit down in without buying something, they're quiet, and you can just sit and look at beautiful paintings. I find that I just jump from church, and try to use them as markers of where I've been. Also in big churches, I've noticed that a lot of them charge some kind of entree fee, or have a gift shop at the exit, which really bothers me. Isn't that exactly why Jesus totally lost it and turned over the tables in Jerusalem? People shouldn't treat a church like theme park attraction, but I guess that goes for both the people running the church, and the tourist entering. They shouldn't even have to put signs out that say no pictures. I just always thought that was common knowledge, it just seems so disrespectful to walk into a church, and start snapping photos. I can't say I haven't done it at some point on this trip, but I always felt bad about it, and I never took pictures with the blatant disrespect that I've seen several people do on this trip. People stepping up on the pew to get a better shot, using their flash all over the place. Sometimes it's like the paparazzi. People just amaze me sometimes with how they just miss the point. Why travel to see something you have no respect for? Anyway, that's my ranting.
San Marco is right next to the dock, so I walked along the dock, and inquired about getting a ferry ticket to Dubrovnik on Sunday. From what I gathered, the ferry to Dubrovnik (called The Dubrovnik Princess) comes everyday at 4pm, and you just buy your tickets before you get on. That seems simple enough, so tomorrow I'll get back down to the docks just after 3pm, so I'll be ready to catch by ferry at 4 to Dubrovnik, Croatia.
After I had that all settled, I went window shopping again in the little shops by San Marco. A couple shops were these amazing stationary stores. They were full of these beautiful leather bound journals, and albums. They also sold these awesome wooden fountain pens, and customized wax stamps. A shop just around the corner from there was entirely devoted to old paper mache masquerade masks, and costumes, and hats which all looked like they had come right out of the 16th century. The place was absolutely beautiful. I couldn't believe the artistry on some of these hand painted masks! These masks were some of the most touching works of art I had seen yet! Out of all the famous galleries, and museums I had paid an entree fee to see, this shop held more inspiration to me than the good majority of it. There were masks shaped and painted like animals, some were decorated with feathers, and all of them had the most amazing color schemes and patterns. I found a mask painted in deep reds and golds which had musical notation pained around parts of it. I thought it'd be awesome to have that hanging in my studio back home. It just absolutely lept out at me, and I found it's female counterpart, and planned that I'd hang the two masks together, sort of perhaps making a statement about my feeling lonely here in Venice. The masks were each 18 euros, and the clerk told me It'd be another 30 to ship them home, so I left the store, deciding to walk around, and look at some other stuff as to not pressure myself into buying something. However, a couple hours later, I still really wanted them, but that was a lot of money to spend on something that I can't eat or wear, or doesn't get me to my next place. I called my mom to have her talk me out of the idea, but she said it sounds really cool, and I should go for it. My dad agreed, and my mom even offered to pay for the shipping. So, I went back to the store, happy to find that the ones I wanted were still there where I had left them, and I bought them. I hope it doesn't have too much of a negative affect on the journey. However, I felt really good about buying them, I was so moved by the artwork in them, I felt like I'd bought a little of the Sistine Chapel.
On my way back to the hotel, I got lost again, for a long time wandering through the local alleyways on the opposite side of town, until I finally remembered just to follow the stream of tourists, and I immediately found my way again. I think I need to find myself a compass. I can't always rely on the constant stream of tourists to lead me home, and I seem to get myself lost fairly often.
When I got back to hotel, I was exhausted, so I just decided to run down to the nearby grocery store, pick myself of a couple of beers and some snack food, and lay low watching TV in my hotel for the night. Maybe I'll get to bed a little early tonight. That would be nice!
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Friday, April 11, 2008
To Venice
In the morning, Shandra showed me where to get true Italian pastries, explaining that that's what real Italians eat for breakfast. Fiesole is a small town, so Shandra was good friends with the pastry shop owner. She showed me her favorites, so I got one of each. They were absolutely delicious. One pastry was filled with blackberry and chocolate, and the other, cream with forest berries. It was a wonderful breakfast. Afterward, I said goodbye to Shandra. The night before, Sean and Shandra sat down with me and prayed for me and my journey, and I thanked them for all their hospitality and kindness.
I went down to the train station, and sat there for about 2 hours before I could get on a train to Venice, but I finally found one, and traveled on it to Venice Central Station. The main part of the day was basically spent traveling, and then as usual as soon as I got off the train, my time was spent ensuring my survival in a new city.
I got off the train, found a map of the city, and went looking for a hostel. It was really difficult to find one in Venice. They, like most of Italy, don't really have much of a hostel culture. They have lots of hotels, but very few hostels. I found two and they were both completely full. Traveling in the weekends has been really hard. Everything's always booked solid. Things get booked in the opposite way than I expected before this trip. The first things eaten up are the crappy really cheap dilapidated places. For some reason, on the weekends I can't get into a cheap crappy place for the life of me. The only places that have rooms are the nicer 3, 4, and 5 star hotels. That's so frustrating, because I don't want to have to spend almost 100 euros a night for a hotel room I won't even use but to sleep in, when I would be perfectly happy sleeping on a rusty bunk bed for 20 euros. I finally found a place that was willing to give me a room for 60 euros, but even that felt like way too much, but what choice did I have? I checked my funds in an internet cafe across the street after settling in. I was struck with disbelief when I discovered I have only about 4,000 dollars left for this trip, which meant I'd already spend more than half. Then I thought about it some, and went over what I'd payed for in my head, and realized I'm actually almost about halfway through this trip anyway, so for the most part I should be all right. In the beginning, through the UK and parts of the middle east, I hemorrhaged money, most places paying way to much than I had to, which is the sign of an inexperienced traveler, which I certainly was/am. I'm slowly getting better, however it still seems I'm grasping to hang onto money. So many of you have been so amazingly generous in donating me money for this trip, and I've been really trying to use it well, but it just always seems to go by so fast. Part of it is the exchange rate. Every euro is worth a dollar and a half, and things in Europe (especially in the major cities) are expensive even by euro standards. I have been getting all your donations though, and they've payed for a good majority of my eating so far, so thank you. I was also thinking that in the countries to come, a lot of people have already come forth and given me places to stay in, of which I am extremely grateful. I tried to make a list while I was in Florence, of people who had gotten back to me that it was ok for me to stay with them, and then I accidently deleted it while I was making room on my phone when I ran out of space. I'm sorry! So if it's at all possible, that some of those people who are allowing me to stay with them could email me and confirm that it's ok, I would be again, so grateful (liveforgod2087@yahoo.com). I'm sorry, I was just stupid and didn't write the information on another place other than my phone. Or, if any of you reading my blogs know of someone who might be willing to take me in for a couple days, I would really appreciate the connection! The places I'm still planning to travel to are: Croatia, Hungary, Poland, Czech Republic, Austria, Switzerland, France, Spain, Portugal, Germany, Sweden, and Norway. I know of a couple people whom I'm planning to stay with in some of those countries, but email me anyway if you could, I would much rather have too many people to meet and hang out with! Well all that has been my greatest concern as of late. It's really difficult jumping so many countries like this. It takes a toll on your mind, trying to keep track of so many things. That solitude time I took was well needed, however now it's like I've jumped right back into the fire.
By the time I'd taken care of my finances somewhat, I needed to go out and look for my exit point from this country so I would know what I was doing when the time comes to leave on Sunday. I decided I'm going to try to take an all night ferry from here to Debrovnik (if that's how you spell it), Croatia on Sunday night. There were two main ports represented on the map, so I picked one and made my way towards that direction. When I got there, the guard on the way in told me the port was closed down, and that I had to come back tomorrow to book a ferry to Croatia. He seemed to at least know what I was trying to do, so that told me maybe I was in the right place, but I'll have to find out tomorrow. The internet access and phone service is all very fragile around here for some reason, so I'll do my very best to answer any emails and check comments and all that as soon as I possibly can. Thank you all for traveling with me thus far on my journey. It makes me feel like I'm not alone when the road starts winding so far from home.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TDave Gilbert
I went down to the train station, and sat there for about 2 hours before I could get on a train to Venice, but I finally found one, and traveled on it to Venice Central Station. The main part of the day was basically spent traveling, and then as usual as soon as I got off the train, my time was spent ensuring my survival in a new city.
I got off the train, found a map of the city, and went looking for a hostel. It was really difficult to find one in Venice. They, like most of Italy, don't really have much of a hostel culture. They have lots of hotels, but very few hostels. I found two and they were both completely full. Traveling in the weekends has been really hard. Everything's always booked solid. Things get booked in the opposite way than I expected before this trip. The first things eaten up are the crappy really cheap dilapidated places. For some reason, on the weekends I can't get into a cheap crappy place for the life of me. The only places that have rooms are the nicer 3, 4, and 5 star hotels. That's so frustrating, because I don't want to have to spend almost 100 euros a night for a hotel room I won't even use but to sleep in, when I would be perfectly happy sleeping on a rusty bunk bed for 20 euros. I finally found a place that was willing to give me a room for 60 euros, but even that felt like way too much, but what choice did I have? I checked my funds in an internet cafe across the street after settling in. I was struck with disbelief when I discovered I have only about 4,000 dollars left for this trip, which meant I'd already spend more than half. Then I thought about it some, and went over what I'd payed for in my head, and realized I'm actually almost about halfway through this trip anyway, so for the most part I should be all right. In the beginning, through the UK and parts of the middle east, I hemorrhaged money, most places paying way to much than I had to, which is the sign of an inexperienced traveler, which I certainly was/am. I'm slowly getting better, however it still seems I'm grasping to hang onto money. So many of you have been so amazingly generous in donating me money for this trip, and I've been really trying to use it well, but it just always seems to go by so fast. Part of it is the exchange rate. Every euro is worth a dollar and a half, and things in Europe (especially in the major cities) are expensive even by euro standards. I have been getting all your donations though, and they've payed for a good majority of my eating so far, so thank you. I was also thinking that in the countries to come, a lot of people have already come forth and given me places to stay in, of which I am extremely grateful. I tried to make a list while I was in Florence, of people who had gotten back to me that it was ok for me to stay with them, and then I accidently deleted it while I was making room on my phone when I ran out of space. I'm sorry! So if it's at all possible, that some of those people who are allowing me to stay with them could email me and confirm that it's ok, I would be again, so grateful (liveforgod2087@yahoo.com). I'm sorry, I was just stupid and didn't write the information on another place other than my phone. Or, if any of you reading my blogs know of someone who might be willing to take me in for a couple days, I would really appreciate the connection! The places I'm still planning to travel to are: Croatia, Hungary, Poland, Czech Republic, Austria, Switzerland, France, Spain, Portugal, Germany, Sweden, and Norway. I know of a couple people whom I'm planning to stay with in some of those countries, but email me anyway if you could, I would much rather have too many people to meet and hang out with! Well all that has been my greatest concern as of late. It's really difficult jumping so many countries like this. It takes a toll on your mind, trying to keep track of so many things. That solitude time I took was well needed, however now it's like I've jumped right back into the fire.
By the time I'd taken care of my finances somewhat, I needed to go out and look for my exit point from this country so I would know what I was doing when the time comes to leave on Sunday. I decided I'm going to try to take an all night ferry from here to Debrovnik (if that's how you spell it), Croatia on Sunday night. There were two main ports represented on the map, so I picked one and made my way towards that direction. When I got there, the guard on the way in told me the port was closed down, and that I had to come back tomorrow to book a ferry to Croatia. He seemed to at least know what I was trying to do, so that told me maybe I was in the right place, but I'll have to find out tomorrow. The internet access and phone service is all very fragile around here for some reason, so I'll do my very best to answer any emails and check comments and all that as soon as I possibly can. Thank you all for traveling with me thus far on my journey. It makes me feel like I'm not alone when the road starts winding so far from home.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TDave Gilbert
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