Bar(i) Italia
First of all, I just got to Dubrovnik. And unless first impressions deceive me, I think I love it (except I think I may have been suckered into a way too far away accommodation).
I mentioned before that I sort of loved Naples despite its disgustingness. I still do.
But I had to get out of there. After waiting an extra day for my ATM card to arrive and it not arriving, I gave up and left for Dubrovnik. The details of the journey I will later explain. They involve Bari, Italy, thus the entry title.
My last night in Naples was spent almost entirely at the hostel (6 Small Rooms -- run by a 19 year old girl from Santa Cruz and a 24 year old dude from Venice Beach). Have I mentioned being tired and in desperate need for English conversation? How nice it was to sit around in the hostel, chat in English with Americans, Australians and Spanish over a bottle of wine? SO nice. The hostel was small, but clean, and it was easy to move from room to room, sing along with the guys playing Rocky Raccoon on guitar, argue with the Spanish girls in the next whether Venice was beautiful or kind of lame or return to the kitchen to discuss the possibility of actually attending Rosh Hashanah services in Budapest.
While sitting in a hostel gives little insight into the true character of Naples, the opportunity to have an open discussion with like languaged folks allows room for much more meaningful reflection and insight into the experiences of other travellers.
Yesterday morning was a bust though. Lots of waiting in line at the post office only to find that my ATM card had not arrived. However, I learned something new: not to take Italian meanness personally.
They are wonderfully mean not only to me, but to each other. In my short hour at the post office I witnessed:
1. A woman screaming and cursing at a man for cutting in line ("blah blah blah fila blah blah blah!")
2. Another woman screaming and waving her hands at a janitor for carelessly sweeping dirt on her feet.
3. The entire line screaming at an old man for taking too long at the counter.
4. A poney-tailed man SCREAMING (much louder than the others) and furiously pounding on the bulletproof glass because the door wouldn't open for him to pass a package though. This guy was loud enough to get the other normally screamy Italians to look. WOW!
My journey? Safe, mostly pleasant!
1. Crowded, hot bus ride with heavy pack to Garibali Square for the train.
2. Finding out that Second Class to Bari was booked so paying 20 Euro to ride first class (which is really nothing special.)
3. Changing trains in some stupid town (no idea why there is no direct train to Bari, a major port on the east coast).
4. Lots of ipod, some Jane Eyre and a gradual calming of my nerves, excitement to finally leave Italz.
5. Arriving in Bari, but getting off the bus way too early...running about 10 minutes with my full pack on through the yucky streets of Bari to get to the port.
6. Waiting in line, soaked with sweat.
7. Finding out that they don't accept credit card even for a 40 euro ferry purchase (Dubrovnik is across the Adriatic from Bari.)
8. Getting on the ferry. Not particularly dirty, not particularly clean. meeting a Kiwi couple. Having a few drinks with two American women from Florida who later paid me 10 Euro to carry their bags off the boat and bought me a drink.
9. Sleeping on the deck (floor) of the boat with my bag as a pillow and my jacket as a blanket.
10. Arriving safely but ending up in a way too faraway place to stay (but for only 16 euro!).
More later. Running out of time at internet cafe!
I mentioned before that I sort of loved Naples despite its disgustingness. I still do.
But I had to get out of there. After waiting an extra day for my ATM card to arrive and it not arriving, I gave up and left for Dubrovnik. The details of the journey I will later explain. They involve Bari, Italy, thus the entry title.
My last night in Naples was spent almost entirely at the hostel (6 Small Rooms -- run by a 19 year old girl from Santa Cruz and a 24 year old dude from Venice Beach). Have I mentioned being tired and in desperate need for English conversation? How nice it was to sit around in the hostel, chat in English with Americans, Australians and Spanish over a bottle of wine? SO nice. The hostel was small, but clean, and it was easy to move from room to room, sing along with the guys playing Rocky Raccoon on guitar, argue with the Spanish girls in the next whether Venice was beautiful or kind of lame or return to the kitchen to discuss the possibility of actually attending Rosh Hashanah services in Budapest.
While sitting in a hostel gives little insight into the true character of Naples, the opportunity to have an open discussion with like languaged folks allows room for much more meaningful reflection and insight into the experiences of other travellers.
Yesterday morning was a bust though. Lots of waiting in line at the post office only to find that my ATM card had not arrived. However, I learned something new: not to take Italian meanness personally.
They are wonderfully mean not only to me, but to each other. In my short hour at the post office I witnessed:
1. A woman screaming and cursing at a man for cutting in line ("blah blah blah fila blah blah blah!")
2. Another woman screaming and waving her hands at a janitor for carelessly sweeping dirt on her feet.
3. The entire line screaming at an old man for taking too long at the counter.
4. A poney-tailed man SCREAMING (much louder than the others) and furiously pounding on the bulletproof glass because the door wouldn't open for him to pass a package though. This guy was loud enough to get the other normally screamy Italians to look. WOW!
My journey? Safe, mostly pleasant!
1. Crowded, hot bus ride with heavy pack to Garibali Square for the train.
2. Finding out that Second Class to Bari was booked so paying 20 Euro to ride first class (which is really nothing special.)
3. Changing trains in some stupid town (no idea why there is no direct train to Bari, a major port on the east coast).
4. Lots of ipod, some Jane Eyre and a gradual calming of my nerves, excitement to finally leave Italz.
5. Arriving in Bari, but getting off the bus way too early...running about 10 minutes with my full pack on through the yucky streets of Bari to get to the port.
6. Waiting in line, soaked with sweat.
7. Finding out that they don't accept credit card even for a 40 euro ferry purchase (Dubrovnik is across the Adriatic from Bari.)
8. Getting on the ferry. Not particularly dirty, not particularly clean. meeting a Kiwi couple. Having a few drinks with two American women from Florida who later paid me 10 Euro to carry their bags off the boat and bought me a drink.
9. Sleeping on the deck (floor) of the boat with my bag as a pillow and my jacket as a blanket.
10. Arriving safely but ending up in a way too faraway place to stay (but for only 16 euro!).
More later. Running out of time at internet cafe!
posted by Jed at 1:56 AM
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