Italy

As A Kiwi I like things easy! So I was pleased to see the girls crashed out on their back packs waiting for me as the train pulled into the station in Bologna only 20 minutes late. It was a long trip from Naples, mainly because I was still fuming like Mt Vesuvius over the visa sager and the fact that I knew I was going to be staying at a scum of the earth HI Hostel. This had been re-enforced by an email earlier from Ulrika " Just so you know the book says your hostel is crap". I was met by hugs and smiles from the Swedish trio and even a couple of bottles of vino.

Much to my amusement the girls who had arrived a few hours before me had spent their morning walking around trying to find accommodation and had not come up trumps. All four of us waited for the once hourly bus out to the middle of nowhere, so as to stay at this hostel that was literally in the middle of a field. After Naples it was refreshing to have some fresh air and watch the pheasants strutting about the place. Ironically fresh air was what I needed most between having a room mate that smoked weed in our dorm and another guy that had the worst toe jam on the planet ... I am talking make you gag stuff here.

Not much happened here at Bologna, a few churches and a tower that is on a lean, man it took the Italians a couple of goes to learn about consolidation thats for sure. After two days it was back on the train to Rimini and for one of the best Hostels to date go to the Sunflower. The train trip was spent dodging strange guys showing us readings in English they had written down from god knows where and races along the platform when the train stopped from one carriage door and back again before the train left. Yeah don't know what I would have done if I got left behind okay.

Rimini was cool, basically kicked back on the beach and finally got rid of that London tan… yah! Our hostel had a bar with a happy hour that had started at the whim of the Argentinean manager.

Now traveling with three girls has the benefits of any guy trying to chat them up in that he also has to ply you with the same free drinks. Before I knew it shots where going left right and center followed by cheap beers, Elisabeth was off to bed and Rayen, Ulrika and myself were piled into the hostel tour van with this crazy South American that went by the name of Martini. He took us to a night club in town of course via the sister hostel first for more shots. A very fun night was had even if we lost our room key that had a 20 dollar deposit on it.

After four days of Kiwi roasting on the beach the team was off to Venice to wander around the maze of streets and canals. My main aim was to get a train to Slovenia and then on to Split to meet up with the girls again. When I got to the ticket office I was given the great news that the only train arrived at 2am in Ljubljana. That will have to do I said and was pretty happy when Ulrika offered me her sleeping mat she called Mr T as it made her back pack look like a "T" when she had it strapped on top. With that it was goodbye to the girls and on the night train to sleep in the train station.

"I knew I shouldn't have thrown that bloody coin in that fountain last time I was here", I thought to myself as I stepped off the train in Rome. I tried to make myself look less hung-over so as to meet Karolina who had flown over from Stockholm for the weekend to see me. This time we managed to meet on the platform without any police involvement and found our hostel which luckily was not one of the nightmare places that I have heard about in Rome on my travels, as long as you don't mind dodging the dog crap on the floor.

So it was off into town to soak up some of that sun and check out the usual sights, Coliseum, Forum and the Palatine hill. This was followed by fighting our way through the crowds into the Pantheon. The Pantheon still manages to amaze me even if there are 2000 other people under its dome. Of course the Trivia fountain and the over crowed Spanish steps were also visited. I neglected to throw another coin in that dam fountain this time as someone had expanded on the myth that if you do the second time you marry an Italian girl.

Next day was the Vatican museum (Ange you'll get a laugh out of this) 4 hours standing in the pouring rain was what it took to get in. For those of you that have been, the line went right back around to St Peters by the second set of columns. So after checking out the Popes art collection which I have to give Raphael's work a big thumbs up and have to laugh at the irony of being told to be silent in the Sistine Chapel over a booming loud speaker (every two minutes in three different languages). Of course no trip would be complete without a visit to the Basilica and then it was off to Piazza Novena for a nice dinner.

***

After goodbyes at the train station Karolina was on the bus to the airport and I was heading south to Naples to have some pizza, a quick look around and then a ferry to Tunisia to get into the thick of my trip.

After dodging scooters and a fine on the metro for not validating my ticket using the "If I talk really fast you can't understand me Mr Ticket inspector plus I'm a dumb tourist" technique. I walked through the door to be met by the words “Buongiorno I'm Giovanni, welcome".

Now Giovanni’s is a hostel set up in his apartment, the second you walk in you are made to feel welcome. Giovanni sits you down, highlights a map with what you have to do, what trains you need to catch and what time you need to be on them. He highlights the best pizza place in the world and finishes by saying " Now you know Naples is not a safe city so stay out of these areas" then proceeds to high lights in blue 50% of the city leaving a corridor in the middle for you to get out an see the sights.

Having had worse mission orders given to me in the army it was with my map that I was kicked out into the streets of Naples to go and see every museum as it was 1 Euro entry day. Then I arrived home and have a huge slice of lasagna placed in front of me cooked by Giovanni himself. I don't think there was a day that I was not given a meal of the best pasta I have ever had and a glass or two of wine to wash it down with. This would be followed by the guitar being brought out and a bit of a sing song being had.

The next day saw me wandering around the streets of Pompeii. Pompeii is the ruins of a Roman city that was caught in the 79AD eruption of Mt Vesuvius. The city was totally preserved under 6m of volcanic ash and this place is huge it would be 1 kilometre squared and you literally walk around it streets and go inside the homes of the Romans. There are amputheres (see the photo below) and forums and the creepiest thing is where the archaeologists have poured a plaster in to the voids left by the bodies of the dead and you can see the expressions on their faces, their hair even the folds of their clothes.

In the afternoon Dave decided to go and climb Mt Vesuvius, being a Kiwi I could not bring myself to get the bus up so I walked from the train station. After 2.5 hours I battled with clouds on top for my summit photo and then wandered back down to the car park.

I waited for the bus which was whistled out by the inspector and told to get on. As I jumped on the driver asked me for my ticket "ah I don't have one I walked up" I mumbled.
He started making a motion with his hands which I took to be to get off the bus.

" But ...But" I stammered dreading having to walk another 13km back to the train.
to which he replied "Just sit down please" obviously feeling sorry for the sweaty mess standing in front of him and trying to get me on, on the sly.
So after a big day of sight seeing and "mountain climbing" it was off to the best pizza place in town, and I tell you what , this pizza was only 3 Euros tasted amazing and was so big it hung over the plate. In fact I ate here for the next three nights in a row.

I don't know what made me check but something just didn't ring right in my head about going to Tunisia. Valeria was a young Italian girl who worked for Giovanni at the hostel, her opening line to me was "Dave what is the 8th wonder of the world? A Kiwi with a return ticket!" So we got on great guns. Conveniently she had been living in Syria and spoke Arabic and French so I got her to ring the Embassy just to check what the story was, but the visa for everyone but New Zealand citizens was very clear. As she hung up that phone she turned to me with a smile of a teacher talking to a five year old. "Yes you can have a visa but it will take 12 days", she informed me.
"Hmmm that's no good I have to be in Libya in 7 days". I said through clenched teeth.
"Okay tomorrow we will go down there and see what we can do, normally it is easier if you are there in person." she offered with that same smile informing me that I was an idiot.

So first thing the next day I was on the metro heading to the embassy which was deep in the blue no go zone armed with my translator, passport photos and other required documents feeling very confident.

10 minutes later I walked out of the embassy having been told that I could not get a visa at all because I was not a permanent Italian resident. When the guy asked me where I was from, insisting that we use English (to show off in front of his colleagues), I said New Zealand. After five minutes and Valeria telling him in every language that she spoke he finally worked out where New Zealand was then told me that I needed to get my visa back home. "But there is no Tunisian embassy in New Zealand" I bluffed!
"Then you must go to Australia" he said with a shrug.
"It's a 4 hour flight" I screamed figuring out the reason for the Perspex screen separating us.
"And Allah willing you will get your visa" was his only reply.
"Maybe I could pay a penalty "fee" for the visa here" I suggested much to Valeria's dismay.
"No I can't help you" he said.
"Whatever happened to Africa being corrupt" I mumbled to noone as I stormed out the door Valeria in tow.

So that was that idea over before it even started. There was only one thing for it beer, the best pizza in the world and a phone call home to tell Mum and Dad how unfair the world is, a concept that I am sure they were not familiar with till that moment. A bit of tough love from Dad to the effect of stop your moaning and get on with the bloody trip and I was saying goodbye to Geovanni and Valeria and on the next train north to catch up with some mates and crack on with my new route along the Adriatic Coast.

There is a fine line between what fashion is and what plain weird is. This line is some what blurred for a young Kiwi lad from the sticks when wandering around Milan the "world's fashion capital" in board shorts and jandals. Never have I had so many disgusted looks in my life, and those who have watched my London video know that I have worn some dumb things in public.

So Milan is a big city, with confusing bus systems and an impressive Duomo (that’s a church Levi you uncultured thug I have even added a picture for you!!) and the best Panini of my life and a lots of expensive clothes.

From Milan it was a short day trip to Lake Como for a bit of outdoor action. Having climbed the hill behind the town to reach the light house at the top I was pretty disappointed to find that it was so hazy I could barely see the town let alone the Swiss Alps as you are meant to. However thanks to the photo board on top of the hill I can show you what it was meant to look like, minus the words suspended in the sky.

From Milan it was a short train ride to Florence...... my future home. I love this place. While wandering around town I bumped into the Canadian girls, Laura, Lauren and Kristen from Madrid. Feeling sorry for me, as I had left my money at home, I was spotted a fiver and it was off for lunch. As with everywhere I go it was a public holiday and the restaurant we wanted to go was closed. I noticed a sorry looking traveller crouching over a lonely planet in the gutter. I asked him if he was lost but it turned out he was looking for the same place as us. Quick snap he was dragged off to the next available eatery by the girls and me. Arnaud was from Paris and had been travelling around Europe for a couple of months. I liked him right away as he could understand me and my Kiwi drawl and so after a lunch of Pizza and rather large beers we were off to explore Florence.

Now my ability to drink was matched equally by Arnuad's ability to sight see, after lunch the cheeky bugger (who was spotting me the entire entrance fee due to my wallet sitting on my bed) had me running up 400 odd steps to check out the view from the Duomo tower. No problem, a few more pints will crack him I thought, so after getting stuck in to a happy hour down some back ally I was left open mouthed catching flies as he suggested we check out some church just around the corner. He then had the nerve to put a guide book under my nose and forced me to learn stuff. However the Kiwi had one more trick up his sleeve "Hey Arnuad, why don’t you come back to the camp site and Ill give you the money that I owe you …plus it’s a nice spot for a bottle of wine on the terrace" A few hours later I cracked a sadistic little grin as I handed him a bus ticket and he wobbled his way towards the bus stop to get home. (Kiwi 1 Frenchy 0)

The next day I met up with Arnuad at Mario's, the restaurant we had both planned to go to for lunch. This place is open from 12 till 3pm and as I walked in I was lucky to get a seat. After choosing cheap but very tasty pasta from a menu on the wall we walked out to be greeted by a huge queue and a waiter taking names.

So our game of cat and mouse continued for the next few days as I tried to drag him into pubs and he drags me in to museums and churches. All jokes aside though, the statue of me (Michelangelo’s David) was amazing and the last judgment on the Duomo dome was very good even if it is said to be terrible as far as renaissance art goes.

I got to do a day trip to the leaning tower of Pisa, and well what do you know …. it is really leaning …. although I thought the 15 Euro to go to the top was just a bit too steep.

Finally what trip would be complete with out my three Swedish friends and their camping kitchen? My final night was spent with Arnuad, Ulrika, Rayen, Elisabeth and Ian , who we met in Valencia and we bumped into the girls at the train station. As usual the girls whipped up a quick pasta and few bottles of wine were consumed and a fun night was had in an olive grove under the stars in Florence. 6am saw Dave stumbling out of his tent to catch a 7am train to Rome to catch up with Karolina.