Thursday, May 10, 2007

Barthelona

(Tim) The Journey has now reached Barcelona, or more accurately, the land of many speech impediments. As the title suggests, people here pronounce their "s" sound like "th." Not terribly important, but kind of amusing for the rest of us. Here we have seen the mecca of street performers. The most fascinating to us are the people who try to look like statues, or as we refer to them, "the idiots who literally do nothing and expect money." There are two types of these clowns. On one hand you have the people who actually look like statues, and get no money from me. The others are the people who don't even remotely look like anything other than a fool standing kind of still and sure as hell get no money from me. We just walk by and say "you just don't get it, do you Scott?"
I'd like to take the time to send a special hello to our friend and roommie from Mexico. Hey, if you have a tendancy to sleep through alarms, please don't turn it up all the way in hopes that this will increase the chances of rousing you from your hibernation, MOTHERFUCKER! Also, when the first three go off nice and early in the morning and do wake you up, please don't turn it off and fall back to sleep so you can sleep through the next three, ASSHOLE! Next time, there's an mp3 player with your name on it, bitch. On a related note, Tom has found his competition for worst person in the universe to have for a roommate at night. Honestly, what did I do to deserve this injustice? Given the choice to be awoken by a freight train through the wall or deal with Tom's snoring, I'd really have to think about it. At least I could sleep before the train came. And I know what some of my former roommies are saying: "Tim, you haven't exactly been snore-free since '93 either, buddy." But with Tom we're talking Guinness Book here. A word of advice to anyone planning on spending a night in the same building as Tom: industrial-strength earplugs.
Yesterday we took a stroll along the beaches of Spain. And we walked so far that I thought we may have covered all of them. At one point I thought I saw Morocco. Some of the gents may be interested to know that being topless is quite popular at the beaches in Barcelona. Now don't, like Tom, get too kid-in-a-candy-store on me just yet. For most of these women, it's "yeah, go ahead and put that back on. Your tan is not as important as me keeping me lunch down." And I really don't understand why most of these people feel the need to tan more. You can just walk down the beach seeing people and thinking "cancer, cancer, everywhere, and not a cure to have." But hey, maybe permanently pruned skin is en vogue here.
As we strolled into a pub on the first day, it occured to me that maybe vegetarians wouldn¡t like it here so much. Right next to the tap was a pig leg in a clamp; hoof, skin, and everything. The bartender would just scoop out flesh from it from time to time. Fortunately I enjoy my place in the food chain and remained hungry and unphased. However, as I sat there, it occured to me that maybe vegetarians are on to somehting with their healthy eating, and seeing as we've eaten nothing but garbage on this tr¡p, I saw a vegetarian store and decided to give it a try. And you know what? It wasn't so bad. Eating vegetarian could become a habit for me. It's amazing how tasty and filling a basket of fries with garlic mayo can be. That red meat can kill you.
As some of you may have guessed from this rambling blog, our trip to Barcelona hasn't been too action-packed, but that ¡s not to say we're not enjoying ourselves. As a matter of fact, I was able to attend a classical Spanish guitar show (Tom was on board until he heard that Gwen Stefani wasn't opening). As some of you know, I'm a bit partial to guitar music, and naturally, I really enjoyed it. Other than that, we've just done a lot of relaxing here. As a matter of fact, Tom also made sure that we went up to the castle on the mountain to enjoy the view together. Very scenic. I was a bit surprised when he wanted to leave before sunset. Maybe it was something I said.

p.s. for those of you who've figured it out, this post is late due to technical difficulties.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

Alexander the Greatest Giannikoulis

(Tom) First off, my apologies to the hundreds of people who have emailed/called/telegraphed asking why I havent posted lately. Greece and Rome have kept me busy. I shall begin with Greece.

Let me start by noting that Alex Giannikoulis is the man! We pull in Thursday night/Friday morning at like 4am. Tim covered the part where we are driven out to the middle of nowhere by some old man driving at least 3oo miles an hour. Abandoned buildings everywhere. Seconds after I had made my peace with God, we pull up to what looks like his house, but turns out to be a really nice little hotel.

Friday we head to the airport to meet this Alex kid. I had high expectations because on at least 10 occasions thus far on the trip, Tim would spontaneously laugh at seemingly nothing and when I would ask what's so funny, he'd respond. This Alex kid from Greece is hilarious, I cant wait to get there. So we meet Alex. First words out of his mouth are "BODACIOUS!!" Good start. Then before grabbing a taxi, he tells us to wait a second so he can say goodbye to a few ladies he met on the plan. 10 minutes in, and I like this Greek kid. We head back to his place. A 4 story palace owned by the Giannikoulis's. Alex lives alone in the penthouse while about 37 of his cousins share the bottom three floors. The building has balconies that wrap around it 360 degrees. Tim and I each get our own room with a balcony that views the hills of Greece.

Next we head out for coffee. I was hesitant about this one. Coffee? I can get coffee in Manhattan on any corner. But this coffee place sits on the Aegean Sea. Not bad.

Next we go home and get ready to go out for some Greek food, then some Greek nightlife. Tim and I didn't order a single thing the entire time there. We'd get to a restaurant and Alex would ask "Anything you guys dont like?" Tim would say nope and I say as long as there is no salad or vegetables Im good. He'd then bust out some Greek to the waitress and the next thing I know there are Gyros everywhere. I swear, everytime they brought out this stuff I heard a choir of angels singing. After food we head out to a club in Athens. We walk up some stairs to a nice little club with a big balcony. This time the view was the Parthenon. Pretty cool. Tim and Tom conversed to one another while Alex talked to maybe every Greek girl in the place. Did I mention this guy is the man in Greece! Oh, then Tim was ready to throw down with the bartender who would not accept his 100 Euro bill. Things get blurry after that, but I do remember more food somewhere and finally strolling home as it was getting light out.

The next day I announce, "I had an AWESOME time last night." Alex responds with, "We know you had an awesome time. I think the entire town knows you had an awesome time!" We then headed out down the Southern coast to Sounio where we saw an acient temple in honor of Poseidon. Along the way we were versed on Greek History by Alex the Great. Tim keeps interjecting with stats about the Great Pyramid but Alex keeps us focused on the Greeks. Then we make our way to the Giannikoulis resort. This is a small piece of land with a vineyard, a small house, outdoor stove, and every fruit tree you can imagine. A bunch of Alex's aunts and uncles were there. Tim and Tom were the only non Greek speakers present. As we picked fruit, threw the football around, and relaxed, the aunts cooked us a feast of lamb. As an aside, while the Greeks may know food, architecture, futbol(thats soccer people), and ouzo, Alex showed us they have not mastered American football. Tim at receiver, Tom as QB, and Alex doing his best Deion Sanders impression:
Tom: what do you want to do
Tim: how bout i just run straight ahead and you throw it as far as you can.
Tom: Sounds good, ready break.
TOUCHDOWN!!!!
In Alex the Great's defense, we did have a half a foot on him. I had about 30 pounds on him too and Tim had at least 70.(wow im funny)
We then had a great meal and drank wine made right there from the vineyard. In the background Alex's uncles played backgammon with the competive style of an O'Hagan Turkey Bowl.
That night, it was Greek nightlife again. Vodka was the poison and Timmy was the target. This time the club was on the beach. They bring out a bottle of vodka and a bunch of mixers and Tim announces " can't they just bring us a case of beer."

Sunday we toured Athens. Then we headed to a futbol(soccer) game where we were honorary invitees to play. We could not have looked more out of place. Two big English speaking guys with no soccer garb whatsoever. Only Alex speaks English as well. The game starts and I wasn't sure how I was doing, but all I know is that by the end of the 1st half, the Greeks kept yelling Pelé everytime I touched the ball. My legs are still sore 4 days later. And as Tim stated, the American boys accounted for half the offense in the great victory. Oh, and if anyone finds themselves playing a pick up game of soccer in Athens, be warned. Apparently pulling your shirt over your head, sticking your arms out like wings while taking a victory lap and screaming GOOOOAAAAALLLLL after you score is "poor sportsmanship". Whatever.
Monday it was site seeing for Tim and Tom. We saw the parthenon and other ruins. Very impressive. Very large. Very old. And then Alex the Great took us off to the airport.

All in all, I have made several observations about Greece and Alex the Great Giannikoulis.
1. He will most certainly rule all of Athens shortly
2. Impossible to take a bad picture in Greece
3. Every single female between the ages of 19 and 40 knows of Alex the Great Giannikoulis.
4. Greek gyros may actually rival Chicago pizza for greatest food on Earth.
5. I will be headed back soon.

I now sit in Rome and Tim and Tom will head to Barcelona tonight. I will document Rome next. Until then.

Veni, vidi, I ate pizza

(Tim) Hello again. Tom and Tim are wrapping up their journey to the "eternal city" of Rome (sorry, Chicago, as of Friday you'll just be the Windy Area). My first impresion was that it may be more accurately described as the Eternally Childish city. When we first sought sustinence, we popped into some sandwich shops and they all had sanwiches with the crusts cut off and served drinks with bendy straws. The term "grownup" didn't come to mind. Also, everyone here rides scooters, something I think all kids would love to do. And I know I don't even need to mention the ice cream obsession.

This is the one city where we felt justified in being total tourists, and we learned a fair amount along the way. For example, when we were waiting in line for the Vatican Museums, there was a guide talking about Michealangelo, and we were of course listening in for free. Suckers. Speaking of suckers, if you find yourself wanting to feel like everything you've ever "accomplished" in your life is a joke and a waste of time, go check out some of ol' Mike's work. Hmm, dedicated much? I was looking at some sculpture that he did when he was 23, and all I could think about was my bar, and how some dude who died several hundred years ago has managed to strip me of every ounce of my foolish pride. And FYI, the secret's out on the Vatican. The line was longer than the one I put on Tom's forhead when I threw his mp3 player at him in an attempt to thwart his superhuman snoring. Anyway, I had to run home to get pants, as shorts are a no-no in the Vatican, so Tom held our place in line. When I got back, some lady was actually trying to get me to go to the back of the line. Unbeknownst to me, shrugging your shoulders with a blank stare while someone is slapping you on the arm is not universal for "I don't give a shit about what you're saying and it will be a cold day in hell before I leave this line." But she eventually gave up, and in we went. The highlight was surely this Sixteen Chapel thing. They don't even bother showing you the other 15. What was amazing was that after he painted the ceiling, years later he painted a crazy mural on the front wall. I can only imagine the kind of individual who knocks out the damn Sistine Chapel ceiling and decides it's not enough. I also enjoyed the "no cameras" signs, which globally translates to "cameras are fine as long as you don't mind slowing destroying one of man's greatest achievements while everyone around you thinks you're an asshole and the guards yell at you."

Other than having some lady yell at me in a foreign language, there were some interesting parts to the tour. The guide mentioned that Michealangelo and Raphael were rivals at the time the Sistine Chapel was being comissioned, and Raphael wanted Michealangelo to have it, thinking he would blow it. Oops. Talk about one of your all-time backfires. Apparently they didn't become allies until being recruited by Splinter to defeat Bebop and Rocksteady. We also learned that after he finished the Sistine Chapel, Michealangelo would go up to women and say "I don't know how to put this, but I'm kind of a big deal around here."

The Vatican Museums are allegedly the biggest collection in the world. After awhile it gets a little exhausting checking all of it out and not knowing anything about anything, but I was able to enjoy some of the sculptures of the gods, as I had the opportunity to clap my hands while chanting "Hercules! Hercules!" Other than that, Tim and Tom lacked the appropriate knowledge and appreciation for the wealth of history before them. Just like in every other city. That's not to say we couldn't appreciate it when we were equipped with the requisite information. Today we got a free tour (and to our sheer joy, our guide's name was Guido) of St. Peter's Basilica, which pretty much solidified the Napolean Complex of the ancient Romans, and we concluded our sightseeing with the Trevi Fountain, also a not small work of art. There is of course a tradition of throwing a coin over your head into the fountain, and much like the Blarney Stone, Tom would not be deprived of such an opportunity. So with his back to the water, coin in hand, in front of hundereds of people, Tom balks, stating, "I feel like a tool doing this." And to which I replied "That's because you ARE a tool doing this." But he eventually went through with it and, providing the legend is true, Tom will soon fall in love (with someone other than himself).

One of the other notable things about the Italians is their use of the word "Prego." I don't know what it means, as they seem to use it in many different scenarios. I've taken to responding with "Ragu" but have thus far only been met with odd looks. And since we're talking about odd, let's touch on the whole subway system here. For those not in the know, the term "clusterfuck" was conceived to describe it. People just push past in a mad dash for a seat for a 10 minute ride. One guy plowed past me and I was ready to tell him what I thought of his behavior, but after getting a good look at him, the only thing that came to mind was "mafioso," and better judgement once again prevailed as I thought better of it, doing exactly nothing.

So, now it's off to Spain, where I look foward to 8 days of Tom absolutely butchering the native language while truly believing he fits in. Thanks to everyone who commented, sorry I had to yell at you to get it done, but as we all can see, the squeaky wheel does get the oil.

Tuesday, May 1, 2007

The Hostess With the Mostest

(Tim) First off, let me thank everyone for all the coments on the recent posts. Thanks, Pete. I know they weren't award-winning, but c'mon. At least leave a commment telling me just how dogshit it was and let me know how you'll never get that five minutes of your life back. Speaking of dogshit, the wild dog at the airport was only the beginning of the barrage of wild dogs we'd run into. Go up to the Acropolis, enjoy the view and the dogs laying about. Go throught the streets and check out the shops, food, and dogs at your feet. I got a few pictures with them, and I even posed next to one, but I knocked that off when I started thinking that these are homeless dogs, and they're alive. That must mean that they eat, and I didn't see anyone feed them. Therefore, I reasoned that they must kill their prey for survival. Their calm, deadlike demeanor was nothing but a ruse. But I was on to them. What's up now, dog.

We are now in Rome, thanks for asking. Greece was just what we expected and needed: awesome. I'd like to give a sincere thank you to Alex Giannikoulis for putting us up at the Chateau Alex and showing us an incredible Greek time. Host of the year much? We found Alex at the gate and headed back to the Palace. We got acclimated with our surroundings, mostly by telling Alex how swwet his place is, and headed out to eat, where Alex put in his best effort to be an integral part of the Quest for 250. He ordered for us and they brought out some bread, cheese, salad, fried zuccinni, and fries. Tonight we eat like kings! Then they brought out two plates of gyros. On snap, it's on. Apparently tonight we eat like kings named Henry VIII. Needless to say, upon completion of the meal, I thought I had finally pushed the boundaries of safe consumption and would die of over-eating. I couldn't wait to do it again. After that it was time to go home, rest up and head out for the evening. Alex took us to a bar on a hill with an outdoor area. With the Acropolis in the background. The term "impressive" comes to mind. I tried to buy the first round of drinks and the total was 14 euro. Being the perennial "big baller" I paid with a 100-euro bill. He said he didn't have change. After our bewilderment subsided, Tom paid with a 20. Ten minutes later, I ordered another round and handed him the same hundred. I felt like the monkey in the joke "got any bananas?....."

The following day Alex took us to his relatives' vineyard out away from the city. There we pulled mandarin oranges, some little pearish things, and lemons off the tree. The mandarin were so good that I may have single-handedly ruined their crop year. We could not, unfortunately, eat any grapes, but we did try some artichokes and checked out an olive tree. I plucked a branch and extended it to Tom, but he rejected it with suspicion in his eyes. We were then treated to an incredible home-cooked meal courtesy of Alex's family. Do I even need to say that it was delicious? One word: feta.

On Sunday we participated in what I deemed the highlight of the Greece trip. I'll give you a hint: it rhymes with bokker and I kicked ass at it. Tom will no doubt mesmorize you with fantastical tales of his five goals and natural ability. Sure, I only scored three, but not without explanantion. First, Tom played more offense than I did. Second, I'm a team player and the thought of passing the ball enters my head from time to time. And last and most important, Tom's a lucky bastard. But Tim and Tom did account for 50% of the team's offense, in a winning effort, and that's what counts. We all know it sure as HELL isn't how you "play the game."

After the game, we went home, met Alex's cousin Alex, his other cousin Alex, showered, and went out for some seafood. On the beach, of course. Duh, we're being hosted by Alex. We were lucky to have our first (and likely my last) taste of genuine ouzo. Evidently "ouzo" is Greek for "licorice-flavored petrol." Alex was a bit disappointed in our efforts in that area, and for that we sincerely apologize. But we did put in a strong (to quite strong) showing the previous two nights out on the town. So we went home to relax and do what all Greeks do on Sunday nights: watch American movies. Tom popped on Gladiator and mentioned how "fitting" it was that we were watching it in Greece. Based on several of his other comments thus far, I'd say it's absolutely fitting that Tom said that watching a movie in Athens about Romans was fitting. For Greek history and torn rotator cuffs, Tom's your man.

On Monday, it was time for Tim and Tom to do some sightseeing before the afternoon flight to Rome. We went to the Parthenon, but I can't remember the names of all the other clubs we went to. I'll say this: The Greeks knew a thing or two about buildings. They apparently, however, like every major city in Europe, knew exactly squat about planning navigable streets. But hey, you can't win 'em all. After that, it was time for the flight to Rome, where they subsist largely on sandwiches and pizza. Hello, heaven.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

The Not Sofitel

(Tim) So, the Journey has reached Athens, Greece. We arrived the night before our host-to-be, one Alex Giannoukolis. He recommended we stay at the airport hotel Sofitel and pick him up at the gate to begin our Greek adventures. The distance between the gate and the baggage claim was aso absurdly far that I can only assume that we landed in Italy and took moving walkways under the water into Greece. So we walked across the street, past the roaming wild dog over to the Sofitel. Sorry, all we have left are business suites. But fear not, they're on sale! Sweet! For $400 US. Uh, no danke. A bit rich for our bodacious blood. So we headed back across the street, past the dog, and into the arrival center to talk to a travel agency. She said there is a hotel about ten minutes away and would cost about $100, and they offer a free shuttle to and from the airport. Sounded too good to be true, but it was 3am and our options were limited. And by "limited" I mean this was the only one. So we accepted and waited for our chariot to take us away. Some guy comes in and we walk outside, past the dog, and load up his unmarked minivan. We then proceed to blow down totally deserted roads with nothing but wilderness around us. If we hadn"t booked it with a travel agency in a real airport, I would have been rifling through my bag for something to defend myself with. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how far I'd get, seeing as I have no sharp objects, and the only thing with a trigger is my bottle of Febreeze (for those of you wondering, so far I've been able to resist the urge to walk up to a complete stranger, smell him, crinkle my nose, and blast him with Febreeze. The same cannot, however, be said about me spraying my own clothes while yelling "Out, damned spot! Out I say!"). We then reached some sort of civilization, which appeared to be destroyed by war. Out chauffer informs us that it is a new hotel. Yeah, as in "the bodies in the basement haven't decomposed." We then pulled up to the hotel, and it was by far the nicest place we"ve stayed. It was only in the morning that I discovered that new construction debris and bomb debris look the same in pitch black night. So we checked in, crashed for a few hours while being awoken every ten minutes by herds of barking dogs, and headed via free (and this time stress-free) shuttle back to the airport to greet our Athenian tour guide. Details to follow.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Which one's Trudi? The one with all the shit in her face?

(Tim) Hello again. We are waiting for our flight to Athens, so I've decided to kill some time and blog again. So I apologize if this is boring, it's just that not much has happened since yesterday. I also want to apologize for the paragraph structure on this page that I can't seem to figure out. When I double-space after sentences and indent for new paragraphs, it shows up in my window, but then publishes everything crammed together. Oh well, nothing an email to blogger.com won't fix. So for now, I'll just skip a line for a new paragraph, or more accurately, where I think there should be a new paragraph because I know squat about writing (see past blogs).

So Tim and Tom hit a bit of a wall today in Vienna. It was supposed to be our big sightseeing day, but it turned out to be our big sit-on-our-asses-and-do-jack-shit day. We started out with guns blazing per usual, and a few hours in I declared that I was over Austria. Tom concurred and we headed back to the hostel common room because we don't have a room for the night. We're staying at a really cool hostel called Wombats, like the animal. Don't know what a wombat is? Never fear, Tom to the rescue. Excerpt from the other day:
Tim, holding up the towel he bought with the wombats logo on it (hint: it' a wombat): Hey, this is a pretty cool towel."
Tom, dead serious: "What's that? A hippo?"
But anyway, it's a highly recommended hostel. By far the best on the Journey to date.

Back to the Austrians. I get the feeling that holdups here don't involve knives. Considering half the population has a bull ring, nose ring, lip ring, eyebrow ring, or all of the above, I feel they would be relatively unphased by a sharp object near their face. Better stick to guns. Just like every other time in life. Just an interesting observation that both of us have mentioned on several occasions. Not particularily interesting to those reading this, perhaps, but fortunately I don't care.

So I feel as though we didn't do Vienna justice. Sorry Vienna. Actually, I did go for a serious stroll around town while Tom retired to the nerdery to tie up some Med School loose ends. The old part of the city has a loop around it called the Ring. I took a stroll around it and found it quite pleasant. Hopefully I won't die in seven days. If I did, it so wouldn' be worth it. There are a million museums, none of which were conquered by Tim and Tom. That's just how cultured we are, kiddies. That's not to say we haven't enjoyed our stay here, however. Today on our walk we walked through a museum quad with lots of sun bathers and relaxers. Now keep in mind that the rest of the world has a more laid-back attitude toward things like alchol, for example. An open container policy allows for things like three girls playing a drinking game by throwing a crushed can at a row of empty cans and then pounding their 20-ounce beer before setting them up and doing it again. All of this in front of hundreds of people enjoying some sun in the park at noon on Thursday. Some things America just cannot provide.

So our travels in Vienna were rather passive, but we gave it the ol' college try. For now we're off to the airport and have done all we can. So long Vienna, and thanks for all the wurst.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Road trip to Slovenia

(Tom) This is coming from Vienna, Austria. On Sunday, we hoped on a train from Budapest to Vienna. Spent part of Sunday walking around Vienna looking for a restaraunt we had heard about. It was called Centimeter. This is because you order their special bread by how many centimeters you want. So we get 10 centimeters each of this stuff and it was pretty awful. Then comes our main course. Apparently bread is by the centimeter and everything else is by the truck load. This guy brought me more food than I could eat in a week. Austrian food is good stuff though...lots of sausage, ham, bacon, etc. Very healthy. I think Im giving Tim a run in the quest for 250.

Monday morning we rent our little car and the plan is to head to Halstaat and then south to slovenia and maybe croatia. We walk out to the car, I sit down and say "Hey, this thing is stick...can you drive stick?" "Kind of," Tim says. Let's now fast forward to the next day somewhere in southern Austria at a truck stop parking lot, where Tim is going to show us what "Kind of" driving stick means. He starts the car(successfully). His task is to drive us about 100 feet from the restaraunt area to the gas pump. We pull out, stall. 30 more feet, stall. 10 feet away from the pump, stall, stall, stall, stall, stall, stall. His job was to get us 100 feet and he made it about 95 before stalling half a dozen times. Good stuff.

So anyway, we start our road trip to Hallstaat and make it onto the highway. There are signs stating 100 which I assume is the speed limit. Tim and I wonder if it's the limit, or minimum. I figure I'll stay at about 120km/hr until we get an idea. Then about 5 minutes into this trip, some sort of blur flies by us in the left lane. What the hell was that? I think it was a car! We then realized you could(and probably should) drive as fast as you want. I literally floored it the whole way. Our little Hyundai would do about 180 on any decline and 90 on any incline. So these Austrians driving on the road would see two Americans fly by them going downhill and then they'd cruise past us on an incline. Crazy Americans!

We pull into Hallstaat Monday afternoon and it was pretty impressive. High peaks around a lake that looks like glass. On the other side of the lake was a red train that would pass by every hour or so and the image looked like a toy train set. But as Tim pointed out, maybe a better place to take a lady friend. We go to a little market there and head straight to the meat and just go to town buying anything and everything that looks like it could clog an artery, along with an assortment of their finest brews. Head back to the place and cook.

Tuesday morning we get up and explore Hallstaat a bit. And if you had seen the 3 point turn I pulled on a towering cliff in these Austrian mountains, you would certainly agree that mario andretti ain't got nothing on me. On our way out of Hallstaat, Tim spots a narrow bridge that traverses a road and river. We head up to cross it. As we're up there, we meet two girls from Holland who are hiking for a week through the area. They ask us for directions. That was funny. Tim informs them that we often don't know what country we are in lately. So Tim and I head out over this thing. It's about 150 feet off the ground and narrow. Maybe 150 feet long too. Now Im not a huge fan of heights, but I can usually keep it together. Tim is ahead of me and has not yet noticed that as we get about a quarter way out, i have started to crouch down and hold both sides. He stops to take a picture and I yell
"DUDE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? KEEP GOING!" This is when Tim turns and sees me and busts out laughing. He takes a few pics and we continue walking slowly until I hear laughing behind me. The girls from Holland had now caught up and in their broken English state "Awww, that's so cute, are you afraid of the height...dont look downstairs" Tim turns to join in the fun and I plead that we all keep moving. In my own defense, I did better on the way back and even snapped a few pictures.

Then we head down to Slovenia that afternoon. Tim announces he's going to take a nap(that was part of him doing whatever the hell he wanted since he cant drive stick) and as the map navigator, tells me to stay on the current road til we hit Slovenia. We approach a fork in the road coming up and I state, Tim wake up, where do I go? Tim pulls out the map.
Timmy-Have we hit Tolenizzo yet?
Tom-That sign said it's just ahead
Timmy(while holding map up in front of his face)-Well then Slovenia should be right here.
Tom-(At that moment, we come around a bend and a HUGE overhead sign comes into view) DUDE, are you fricking kiddng me! That says Italia!
Timmy- Shit....no, wait, ok, we're good.
Apparenty the town we were headed toward is very near the Italian border, so we only took a minor detour through Italia. But crisis averted. We explore Bled, Slovenia which has a church on an island in the middle of a lake that looks just like a castle. Actually it's two famous sites are a church and a castle and excuse me for forgetting which was on the island.

Today we are back in Vienna, and head to Athens late tomorrow night. Get ready for bodaciousness Greece!