Fatto Catso

Travelling has a reputation for being glamorous, and I suppose often it is. On the other hand, backpacking is a special kind of travel. And as much as I love it, longer-term backpacking is the opposite of glamorous. I shower every other day, and wear flipflops when I do. I sleep in dorms with as many as 12 others (the biggest dorm I’ve ever heard of is 32 in Amsterdam, but I didn’t stay there). Some people snore, some turn on the light at 5 in the morning, and I’m sure you can imagine that the room does not smell particularly nice come sunrise. Sometimes – as with the last 3 days – I eat the same thing every day because it is cheap. I regularly smell items of clothing before dressing myself in the morning to refresh my memory about which shirts are still clean.

All that being said, this lifestyle is part of what makes backpacking special; what makes it fun. I love backpacking. I would much rather run for a train wearing a backpack than pulling a suitcase. I like wearing the Canada flag on my back – and my front for that matter. Showering every other day certainly cuts down on the cost of shampoo. Plus I’m travelling the world! I believe that part is still somewhat glamorous. And I’ve been lucky, and often spoiled on this trip because I’ve been fortunate enough to stay with so many friends along the way.

So why am I mentioning all this? Simply because when I arrived in Rome, I hit a wall. After four months of travelling, I found myself tired, with a cold I was having a hard time shaking. I’m not suggesting that you pity me. I’m not saying that I was regretting the amount of time I chose to travel, just that I was tired.

Two things helped. The first was that I was staying in a great little hostel with a good, personable atmosphere where the guests were all extremely friendly and welcoming. The second was that I knew I was going to see Andrea in a week.

Unfortunately, it felt like a bit of a chore dragging myself out of the hostel to do some sight-seeing that day. However, by the time I’d made my rounds through the Colosseum and the Roman Forum ruins, I had cheered up a bit. The Colosseum really is a phenomenal structure. Regardless of whether Russell Crowe and Gladiator are to thank for my imagination’s wanderings, I had no trouble envisioning the roaring crowd it would have contained. I found the ruins somewhat eerie to envision such a grand era and then see only the remains of it, the rubble. It was interesting.

Visiting the walled Vatican City was also interesting. The Vatican Museums and Sistene Chapel are so completely adorned with artwork that I imagine it impossible to ever see it all. Certainly it was too much to take in during one afternoon, but a spectacular sight all the same. St. Peter’s Basilica is so large that I’m not sure there is a word to describe its immensity properly. The candlesticks appeared to be at least as tall as I am. It was quite a sight. However, perhaps my favourite part of Vatican City was the guards. Their uniforms are so brightly coloured and flamboyant, kudos must be granted to these guards for the ability to keep a straight face.

The Vatican Museums - Michelangelo

St. Peter's Basilica

Hanging out with the guards.

Inside the Basilica

My last Roman highlight was a night out with about 12 guests from the hostel as well as the hostel owner. The drinks were so expensive that most people only drank the one provided with dinner, or at most a second. It was a very sober, very silly night full of sweaty dancing, and it was heaps of fun.

I visited Florence where I took in the view from the Duomo, the view of Michelangelo’s amazing David, and the wonderful smells of the Italian markets. On a whim, I also hopped on a train to Pisa one afternoon. I only spent about an hour in Pisa, but it was enough to see their famous tower, which really is leaning to quite an incredible degree.

View from the Duomo in Florence

The River Arno in Florence

After that it was off to Bologna for a big hug from my Sicilian friend. Andrea has lived there for the better part of five years, and he deserves all the credit in making Bologna my favourite stop in Italy. He knows the good cheap restaurants. He knows the cheapest slice of pizza on the street (lesson learned, even the cheapest slices in Italy are tasty, and massive). He taught me that the appropriate way to eat a slice of pizza in Italy is to fold it over in half like a sandwich. He knows the most organic places for the very sweet, very nutrient-low Italian breakfast (coffee and cake). He has friends who play Brazilian bossa nova at bars, friends who host international dinner parties, and friends who will join you for a beer during the six nations rugby tournament on a Saturday afternoon. He might not know all the ins and outs of Venice (yet…), but he knows the cheap train, and he accompanied me anyways, for a lovely afternoon of wandering around the canals taking in the carnival masks and murano glass. Importantly, he knows where to enjoy the best ice cream in Italy – voted best in the world in 2009. I’m not sure what the best ice cream in the world was last year, but this ice cream (La Sorbetteria Castiglione) was so delectable that I actually felt sad taking my last bite, knowing that it was almost over. Most importantly, Andrea gave me the hugs, the good conversation, the boost I needed to see me through these last weeks in Europe. (Thank you, xxo)

At La Sorbetteria Castiglione.

Pizza!

Venice

Venice

Last night.

I’ve spent the last few days in Munich. I’m actually heading to Prague today, though I’m going to try to write a separate blog for Munich because I enjoyed my visit very much. So stay tuned, but for now…

Sending love from Germany.

ps - Happy 25th anniversary to my parents! I love you.