From Romance to Food Poisoning.. How Charming

I seem to have gotten quite a bit of feedback from my last blog post on my Amsterdam adventure. According to my father I am now all grown up, so in order to set the world right once again, I will go back to blogging about my simple sight seeing (after all, I am a daddy’s girl, not a daddy’s woman). After Amsterdam came Paris. After a very boring and uneventful train ride to the city of romance we of course got lost on our way to our hostel (but that is an entirely different story. I have bored you with numerous tales of our adventures while lost in Europe, and this one is no different, so if you really care to hear about how we batted our long eyelashes at a hotel receptionist to let us use his computer at 1am, then ask me). Sadly Paris was the last stop on our Europe tour, and we were both incredibly sick of our check-lists and map reading our way through the sights. But even though we were both tired, cranky, wet and cold, we bundled up, grabbed our map, and headed out into the city. Our check list included:

The Catacombes (which we almost didn’t find and walked around a nearby cemetery for 20 minutes before realizing that we weren’t in the right place)

Notre Dame (sadly that is the one Disney movie I haven’t seen, so I didn’t walk around hunched over like the hunchback)

Trocadero (where we took about a million and one pictures with the Eiffel Tower in the background)

Arc De Triomphe (we went, we saw, we took a picture, we left)

Gardens of Luxembourg (where we had quite an amusing photo shoot with a large bronze head... pictures to be posted on Facebook soon)

The Louvre (Mona Lisa… check)

The real Moulin Rouge (NOT like the one we went to in Amsterdam. Thank GOD)

And last but not least…

The Eiffel Tower (where I got my romantic kiss up at the top over looking the city. Okay, maybe it wasn’t romantic as it was a kiss from Kimmy, but at least I can say I did it!)

Paris came and left with the blink of an eye. Before we knew it we were on a train back to London and arrived back at our London home. Again, I barely had time to think before I was waking up the next morning to get my things together to go meet my Dad in Wimbledon at Godfather Antony’s house. Dad and I had the entire house to ourselves for the afternoon to catch up on my trip and hang out for a while. When my Godfamily came home we all had an incredible dinner party with some old friends. We all had a great time reminiscing about the time my parents met my ex-boyfriends parents (only my Dad wasn’t there, but his friend Tony was, along with his girlfriend… Just imagine the confusion of introducing my mother and a man who could be my father… and his girlfriend. Again, that is another story that I would love to tell you if you ask to hear it… and it is worth asking about… trust me!). After saying goodbye to my second adopted London family, we left Wimbledon to go to a Christmas lunch where I met a whole side of my family I didn’t even know existed (I must say, after 21 loud Italian Christmases in New York, I was well prepared for the English version). At this point I shut my brain down, and was completely in my father’s hands. I have gotten tired of planning every minute of my life, so I put my body into cruise control and put my Dad in the driver’s seat. Ironically, as soon as I was in Dearest Daddy’s hands, I suddenly came down with some sort of horrible flu/bug/food poisoning. I spent the night at my Aunt’s house throwing up my wonderful Christmas lunch.. over, and over and over again. I didn’t even get a chance to see my cousins that night because I went straight to bed and didn’t get up for another 13 hours. I woke up the next morning and was afraid of food (and for those who know me at all know how unlike me that really is so I really must have been sick). Unfortunately, my fear of food affected a lunch with my Uncle, which I’m afraid I had to leave half way through to go lay down in the back of the car. Good news is that we have decided to ditch our trend of seeing each other only every 4 or 5 years, so there will be many more opportunities to catch up soon I hope! After lunch (or lack-there-of) I had to curl up in the back of the car and endure a long and very jerky (thanks Tony) car ride down to our little English cottage (Poock’s Cottage) in Exmoor. After we arrived I took another nap and felt a bit better and played a game of cards with my two old men and got my butt kicked the entire time. Just you wait until I am feeling better. Revenge will be mine!

This morning I woke up and felt like I had kicked whatever was in my system the past 24 hours. We decided to go on a famous Nettelfield walk to the circle of trees. I made it to the top of the moors before I got very dizzy and very nauseous and decided leave Dad and Tony to turn back around to go back to the cottage. After walking up the hill with my head down looking at my feet, I suddenly realized I had no idea where I was going. I somehow managed to get myself incredibly lost and wound up down a valley with a river running through it. I knew I needed to get to the other side of this rushing river to get back to Poock’s, but suddenly felt very light-headed. I sat down on a rock until my double image of the world went back into one. I very nearly donated my breakfast to the sheep 20 yards away but somehow managed to regain my composure before fording the river. I have no idea how, but somehow I tip-toed across the rushing river without falling and kept my breakfast down, all to the dismay of the sheep who I assume would have had a great laughing “baaaa-haha” at my fall and my breakfast for their lunch. I also managed to find home. I found my couch in the only warm room in the entire cottage and fell asleep with my best friend, Coke, a white polar bear. My temporary fear of food better be gone soon, because I only have three days left to eat pork pies, spotted dick, and steak and kidney pudding. On second thought, maybe I can starve until New York…

Sex, Drugs and… More Sex

Oh Lord. Where to begin? Well, we arrived in Amsterdam at around 7pm on Friday night. First thing we did was shower off the depression which consumed us from Berlin, and then we ventured out of our cute/quirky hostel and into the cold Amsterdam night for dinner. Kimmy and I both had some sort of American bug hit us, so when we saw a sports bar playing a real American football game, we were sold (they were also playing the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. Ribs + Beer + Football + Victoria’s Secret fashion show = my idea of heaven). With my face full of barbeque sauce and my American craving fixed, we were about to get up to leave when we attracted the attention of another two guys (I swear we are a magnet for cute guys and their wingmen. Unfortunately I end up entertaining the annoying wing man all night while coughing up a lung in their face trying to scare them off). Obviously I have nicknamed these two as well, and these two particular guys were named “cute, funny Dutch boy” and “annoying, old banker”. Guess who I got? I endured about an hour of this man talking about the bank he worked for, his favorite places to travel, and why he detests facebook so much. When I finally had enough and hinted towards running far away from these guys, annoying old banker asked me if I would like to be his friend on facebook. Sorry, but you just spent the better part of the last hour (which I will never get back again) talking about how you think facebook is impersonal and then described to me what the 3 pictures you were tagged in looked like, so you do not get the pleasure of being my facebook friend.

The next day we planned to take a free walking tour of Amsterdam. We really didn’t have a plan of anything specific to see while we were there, so we thought we would take the tour of the small city and see it all in 4 hours. We had a great tour guide who showed us all of the historic sights including the old church, the new church, and the south church (the Dutch may be great businessmen, but they are about as creative as the painter of a white room). We saw coffee shops every 20 feet, gorgeous little canals, very sweet little houses and we briefly went through the red light district and got our first taste of the “ladies of the night” (which happened to be the “ladies of the afternoon” at that hour). Going into Amsterdam I had done no research, and had no expectations what-so-ever of the city. I vaguely knew what the city was about, but I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into. For those of you like me, the “Ladies of the Night” are women who stand in the windows of buildings wearing little or no clothing, taunting men to come inside where they will charge for their services. What kind of services you ask? Go to Amsterdam and find out. Our tour guide told us all about how the red light district came to be.

Quick Lesson: The red light district is as old as Amsterdam. Way back when (to a date I can’t remember) the sailors would come back to land after months or years and would crave a woman’s attention. These men would go after women like a dog to steak on the ground, and the “pure women” of the city were being corrupted. Some women therefore sacrificed themselves and offered themselves as the women whom men could seek out when returning to land. They started charging for their services and that is how the red light district came to be. One more fun fact for you: There are a lot of churches in the red light district. That is because after the Catholic sailors would have their way with the women, they would realize they sinned, and run off to confession at the church where the priests would charge the men to be absolved of their sins. Convenient huh?

Okay back to more exciting things. After our day tour, we went back to our hostel to shower quickly and get ready for our next tour, a guided walk through the red light district. We decided that we got a taste of the district during the day, but this tour was supposed to take us all throughout the streets and give us more information about the girls, how the whole pimp/prostitute relationship works, the sex shops, and the sex shows (how’s that for an educational experience?!). After this second tour we knew more about the red light district than I ever thought I would care to know. We met some friends on the tour with us (and no homophobes, mutes, lame-o’s or old annoying bankers!!!!!) so we all decided to continue walking through the district to really see how it worked at night. Because we went on the tour, we were given a discount if we wanted to go see a show. What kind of show you ask?

Mom and Dad, best if you stop reading now…

We went to a sex show at the Moulin Rouge. Everyone who knows me, knows how squirmish I get at the thought of porn, and how I have prided myself in the fact that I made it through college without ever seeing one. I guess the only way to break that streak is to see one live. When in Amsterdam, right? To spare you the details of what made me gag, I’ll allow you to use your imagination as to what each of the following props were used for: a banana (which I will never eat again), a pen (writing now makes me gag), and a string (quite like the one a magician puts up his sleeve and then pulls and pulls and pulls… only this one wasn’t up her sleeve). Then came the grand finale. The “home run” if you will. No longer can I be the only person in a room who has never seen porn, because there it was. Live.

Mom and Dad, you can start reading again.

Waking up the next morning I was still giggling and blushing at what we had seen the night before, and I needed to do something to take the image of cowboy boots out of my head. We headed to the Anne Frank house for something a bit more educational than what was offered at the Moulin Rouge. After the Anne Frank house we were again depressed after a few hours reading more about the holocaust. Amsterdam only does extremes I guess. We needed something in the middle. Something educational, but fun. The answer to our prayers: The Heineken brewery! We learned all about how beer was made. The history of Mr. Heineken himself, and even went on a ride in which we were actually brewed into a beer! It is a very interactive museum, so there were loads of buttons for us to push, and videos to watch which made for a really fun, relaxed evening. So far Amsterdam had gotten the best of us, so we were ready for a quiet night in. After dinner we went back and got an early and good nights sleep. On our last morning, we woke up and found a cute little park, which we went to and played on a swing set for about an hour (like you would have expected anything less from Kimmy and Joanna?). We walked around the streets a bit more and Kimmy finally bought the pair of European boots she was searching for since day 1 in London. It was time to say goodbye to Amsterdam, and we bid it farewell with a toast before our completely uneventful train ride to Paris (or something like that…).

Bleak Berlin

With my arm in agonizing pain, we took the night train from Vienna to Berlin. Kimmy was very helpful and made my bed for me and put my hair up in a ponytail (thanks baby!). We got to Berlin at 7am, and 3 wrong trains later, we arrived at our hostel at 10am (after this trip I will never trust the two of us to travel anywhere alone together without adult supervision – here is a fun game: read through all of my blog posts and see how many times we ended up lost or on the wrong train, then add about 10 more to that because I left a few out. Whoever guesses correctly get’s to come with me on my next trip!). Since we still had the whole day ahead of us, we dumped our backpacks in our room (at the 3 Little Pigs Hostel which is an old Abby so there are tons of little secret passages and long hallways. It would have been cool had there been lights inside so we could find our room after it got dark). We bundled up and headed out into the snowy German day to see what we could see through the blizzard. Berlin is apparently famous for their Christmas markets, so it was a great time for us to be there. We found our first market in the middle of a place called Potsdamer Platz (hehe, funny name) and walked around under the Christmas lights and garland. There also happened to be a huge man made snow hill which you could tube down. Like I said, a gimpy left arm wasn’t going to keep me from doing anything fun, so Kimmy and I (the 10 year olds) ran up the hill and got our tubes to go sledding. We got a big push from the man working there, but somehow Kimmy came to a complete stop halfway down the hill. I went barreling down the hill and crashed into her and then carried on down the hill (that felt really good on my arm, let me tell you) while Kimmy had to have reinforcements come rescue her and give her a second push to get to the bottom. Now that we were wet and cold from our tube adventure (or lack there of) we indulged in a little retail therapy in the Christmas markets where I bought a new pair of gloves to replace my soaking wet ones. After my purchase of new warm clothing, I was ready to see some sights. And so the checklist begins:

-The Berlin Wall
-The Holocaust Memorial
-The Holocaust Museum
-The Brandenburg Gate
-The Parliament Building (where we climbed up the glass dome up top)
-Sachenhausen Concentration Camp

Every site in Berlin has something to do with war, holocaust, division or some general negative historical event. The grey skies and the bitter cold were just the icing on the cake. How did we keep ourselves from getting severely depressed in the country of despair? Conundrums! When I was much younger I remember my Dad giving us conundrums and I remembered a few of them. For those of you who haven’t heard of these, someone basically gives you some sort of fictional situation, and everyone has to guess how it happened or what is going on by asking questions that can only receive a yes or no response. For example, “A man goes into a field and dies, how did it happen?” We met up with a couple of guys who followed us around like puppy dogs who happened to love my conundrums. Thank god that they were better than the homophobe and the mute, but we nicknamed these two Lame-o #1 and Lame-o #2, no explanation needed (although, they did love my conundrums, so I should reconsider naming them Awesome #1 & #2). All throughout Berlin, our little puppy dogs would be silently thinking and then suddenly yell out random questions like “is it a real man?” or “was he playing baseball and a lighthouse fell on him which killed him?” It was a fun way to distract ourselves when we were moving from one depressing sight to another. The train ride home from the concentration camp had some of the best conundrums because we all needed a serious pick-me-up after that little outing as you can imagine.

So here is my own little conundrum for you: A train takes them to their next destination. They look out the window and see the London Eye. What happened?

The Hills are Alive with the Sound of… Breaking Bones?

We were more than happy to leave the high waters of Venice. Apparently people go there over and over again to see the high waters and never do (Mego?!) and we got a first hand look (and feel) of the rain that helped contribute to the flooding. Alright, I guess that’s pretty cool (actually really cool, about 20 degrees cool). Vienna was the perfect place to land after a miserable cold and wet day in Italy.
After getting acquainted with Austria and our wonderful double date with the homophobe and the mute (which I am still laughing over days later. Honestly, it has been best described as a cross between the Born Identity and Seinfield – Thanks Williford!) we knew it was time to take the train to the city I have dreamed about since I was 5, Salzburg. For those of you who are not addicted to the movie like myself, Salzburg is where The Sound of Music was filmed, and where the real Von Trapp family lived. I grew up watching The Sound of Music at least once a week and I am proud to say that I can repeat every line of the movie as well as every lyric to every song (yes, I said I was proud of that).
We took the 3 hour train ride from Vienna to Salzburg early in the morning and arrived more hyper than I have been this entire trip. I should also mention that we were running on very little sleep at this point because we stayed up to an ungodly hour watching the movie on my laptop to prepare ourselves for the best day trip of our Europe tour. We did a lot of research on what to do when we got there, and we decided that we had to be complete tourists and go on an actual Sound of Music Tour. We found our bus and tour guide and sat in our seats with wide eyes, huge grins, and ants in our pants. I’ve never been one to enjoy a touristy bus tour because you just sit and watch the city fly by you, but this tour had one thing that we wouldn’t have gotten by walking around by ourselves; the soundtrack to the movie playing while we sat and enjoyed the guided tour!

How do you solve a problem like Maria?
The first stop was at the Abby where the real Maria and Julie Andrews tried to become a nun. Unfortunately the Abby is a working Abby, so nobody is allowed inside. It is situated on top of a hill overlooking the city and was used only as an over-head shot for the movie, but was replicated exactly in Hollywood for the scenes shot inside.

Do-Re-Mi-Fa-So-La-Te-Do
Next stop was the Von Trapp family house. The inside of the house you see in the movie was a set built in Hollywood, but all scenes shot outside next to the house were in Salzburg. They actually used three different houses for different scenes. The famous scene of the kids in the boat on the lake in the backyard of the house in Salzburg and we got out of our little bus to walk around for a bit (that scene was only filmed once because little Grettel didn’t know how to swim. Julie Andrews was supposed to catch her as the boat tipped over, but she fell backwards instead of forwards, so Grettel sank to the bottom of the lake, and someone had to fish her out. She was terrified and refused to shoot again, so they used the first take). I basically jumped out of my skin at the sight of the house because not only was it gorgeous, but as a little girl I dreamed of living there. I was home!

I am 16 Going on 17
The infamous gazebo in the movie where Liesel and Rolf sing to each other and skip around and dance on benches was moved to a little park in Salzburg. Apparently couples would go to the house where the gazebo was filmed and would make a bit too much noise, um, “singing to each other” so it was moved to a park and locked. Kimmy and I thought it was only appropriate to take a picture frolicking in front of it to recreate the part when they jumped from bench to bench. Liesel and Rolf got nothing on us.

The Hills Are Alive With the Sound of Music
After the gazebo we took a long drive through the lake district where you have an amazing view of gorgeous lakes, breathtaking snowy mountains and the place where you see Maria running through the hills singing The Sound of Music. They had to film that scene over and over again because the wind from the helicopter kept knocking Julie Andrews over.

I Must Have Done Something Good
After Maria and the Captain fall in love, they agreed to get married. In real life, they were married in the Abby where Maria failed miserably at being a nun, but it was too small to film the wedding scene for the movie. They used a church in the lake district for this scene and that was the final stop on our tour. Of course I walked down the aisle as Maria did and seriously couldn’t believe I was there. It was very surreal to be walking down the aisle that I was so familiar with but have never seen. Who needs caffeine when you have the Von Trapp church making you jump up and down? We ended the tour singing So long, Farewell and got dropped off at the train station to head back to Vienna.

The next day we had a mid-afternoon train to catch to Berlin, so we spent the morning on our amazing hill overlooking the city. We really wanted to take advantage of the fact that we had a private ice skating rink with the best view of Austria, so we decided that’s how we would say goodbye to Vienna. I used to be a pretty decent figure skater back in the days of my Nancy Kerrigan obsession and I guess I thought I still had that triple axel in me. Clearly I was wrong. The ice was a bit bumpy and was not very well taken care of, so while showing off my gold-medal moves, I tripped, fell, and then that was the end of my left arm. Somehow falling on my wrists, my elbow decided to get injured. I have no idea what happened, but for the next 2 days, I can swear to you I had a broken elbow. It was physically impossible to lift my arm, turn my arm or do simple tasks like put on my jacket, or put my hair in a ponytail. Let’s just say, lots of tears were shed and there were a lot of random screams in the middle of the night when I would accidently turn over onto my left side. Since then, I have gained more movement in my arm, but it still hurts like a you-know-what, and I still can’t sleep on it. Who knows what I did to it, but it’s not going to keep me from any Europe adventures, so Berlin, here I come!

A Date With a Homophobe and a Mute

Waking up in my bed on the night train to look out the window and see Vienna, Austria was a sight I will never forget. So far each country we have been to on this trip, I have been to before when I was younger. I have never been to Austria before so when we got off the train It felt like I was seeing snow for the first time. We got to our hostel, which is GORGEOUS. It is on the top of a hill that overlooks the entire city and we have an ice skating rink! After we threw our stuff down, I felt the need to put braids in my hair (to get into the Austrian spirit?) before we took off to wander the city. As soon as we got to the centre of town, we went to the Stephansdom church which is an amazing building right in the middle of the city. We have slightly overdone the museums and sight-seeing, so we decided to skip out on going inside and just walked around instead. While walking around a man in a big red cape came up to us to try and sell us tickets to a Mozart concert complete with opera and ballet. We were intrigued and let him give us his clearly memorized speech. When he was done he said he would give us front row tickets for 55 euro each. We laughed and started to walk away. Before we got too far he quickly came after us and offered to give us two for the price of one. We agreed. As he was giving us the tickets, he asked us (in very broken English) if we wanted to meet him for coffee after the show. Neither one of us is very good at lying on the spot, so we just sort of smiled and giggled for a few minutes before he told us he would meet us at the subway station across the street from the venue which the concert was being held at. We really couldn’t say anything to him at this point because a) he just sold us the tickets so he knew we would be lying if we said we already had plans, and b) he probably wouldn’t have understood anything we said to him that didn’t involve simple English like, “hello, I have a dog.” After we left with our tickets Kimmy and I looked at each other and almost in unison said “that’s not happening”.

We walked around for the rest of the day under Vienna’s Christmas lights and taking in the atmosphere. It really is a beautiful city and I felt very familiar with it even on my first day there. We went back to our hostel to get dressed up for the first time since leaving home and it was a miracle either of us ended up looking the way we did since neither of us has brushed our hair in a month because we both forgot to pack brushes (knotted hair is like, totally in style these days, duh!). We went to the concert hall (which is where Mozart had his first public appearance) and enjoyed two hours of classical music, ballet and opera. I must say, I felt very grown up (and even more so because I actually enjoyed it!) It was an amazing evening and we had such a good time… until…

We realized that in order to get home, we needed to go to the subway station which our friend in the red cape said he would meet us at. I noticed that the show got out a half hour later than it was supposed to so we had high hopes that he would have forgotten about us by then. Just to be safe, we did a couple of “walk-bys” past the door to the station to have a quick peek in to see if he was waiting for us. No sign of red-caped man. Kimmy opened the door to the station and I pulled a James Bond and did a 180 with my imaginary gun and jumped through the door to see an empty station. Phew. He forgot about us. We weren’t out of the woods yet though, so we literally clung to each other as we tip-toed down the stairs to the tracks and we were actually jumpy whenever someone would turn the corner. While we were on the tracks waiting for the train we did a little victory dance because we were finally out of the woods. We wouldn’t have to make awkward conversation in broken English and German and we wouldn’t have to be scared by every stranger walking towards us. Hooray! And then it happened… The tap on my shoulder which I will have nightmares about for months. I heard a man attempting to say my name with a very thick accent. I ignored it and kept looking straight ahead. I heard it again. And I ignored it again. Then he said, “Kim?” We didn’t stand a chance at that point. We acknowledged his presence and he said, “do you remember me?” I said, “vaguely, we met a lot of people today” (this was the line that has made us randomly break out into hysterics all day today). At this point he motioned for his friend to come over and join us who had been standing about 15 feet away just staring at us while I attempted to morph myself into a bird so I could fly away. Just then the train came and we jumped on it… and they followed. We told them we hadn’t yet eaten dinner so we were going to say no to their kind offer for coffee, and we were going to get something to eat. They said they knew a great place for great beer so we should go with them there. “No, no. FOOD not BEER, we are hungry girls”. He replied, “Ah, yes, food. Drink few beers, you won’t be hungry anymore”. This is when I resorted to trying to hype up my cough and cold. I had been able to keep my cough to a minimum during the concert, and I was feeling pretty good, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I forced a few coughs to show them what a poor sick little girl I was and that I was not well enough for a night out. They acknowledged my cough, and then said “bar this way, follow me”. What gentlemen. We all sat down at a table and Kimmy and I ordered food and tried to make awkward conversation with one of these guys (only one could speak English, the other just stared at me. Literally. Just sat and stared at me. He didn’t say a single word, didn’t order food, didn’t attempt to listen to his wingman talking to Kimmy and I. He just sat and stared). At this point my fake cough turned into my real cough and I was literally miserable. I couldn’t even open my mouth to speak because I would end up coughing instead (that’s Karma for you I guess).

So here are the characters sitting at this table in Vienna:

Creepy Man #1 – 28 year old studying Business in Vienna who hates gay people (that should have been our signal to pretend we were lesbians so they would go away) and loves movies.

Creepy Man #2 – Man who sells concert tickets by wearing a red cape. He doesn’t speak English and likes to stare at me.

Joanna (no middle name) Nettelfield – Incapable of holding a broken conversation because of a cough, which is ruining her life.

Kimberly Kelly Spencer– Stuffs her face with French fries and attempts to humor Creepy Man #1 by asking him what time the subway stops running in Vienna.

When we finished eating they had a little secret conversation in German and then asked us if we wanted to go dancing. You have GOT to be kidding me guys! I’m sitting in front of you literally dying, nobody has said a word to each other in 4 minutes and 27 seconds, and Creepy Man #2 hasn’t blinked since the subway. No we don’t want to go dancing, and no I don’t want to give you my real email address, but, here, take this fake one (you really aren’t getting my real email address especially since you asked us out for a coffee but forced us to sit in a smoky bar instead while I can’t even enjoy my food because of a certain someone who doesn’t know that it’s impolite to stare!). But thank you Creepy Man #1 & #2. You have given us a night that we will never forget, even though we have already forgotten your names.

Venice

We got there at 11am. It was raining. We tried walking around but the wind broke our umbrellas. We were wet. We were cold. Then we got really wet, and really cold. The bell tower was closed. It got dark. We left. Check √.

Thankful for Thanksgiving in Firenze

First off, I would like to wish all of my little Americans a Happy Thanksgiving. I appreciate the Italian lesson Mego, but unfortunately, no turkey for us because we spent this day of thanks at the top of a mountain in pitch black with no flashlight. I'll get to that story later, as well as to all that I am thankful for on this day.

We arrived in Florence Sunday afternoon after taking the earliest train we could away from our friend, the naked Salerno girl. We got to our hostel relatively easily for the first time ever and walked up the red-carpeted stairs to an automatic door (yes, the little things in life still amuse me). This hostel, Plus Florence, has a spa, a pool, a bar, a restaurant, and a movie theatre. I told you, we left the slums for Utopia. Our first order of business was to get our traditional hostel map of the city which has big pictures of all the tourist sites (I'm 22 and still respond better to picture books than words.. odd). We saw a bit of Florence that night and had an amazing dinner complete with a bottle of wine that made us a little too giddy when our conversation turned to us exploring the humor in different types of laughs (again, easily amused). *This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for good cheap Italian wine.*

The following day we took out our picutre map and did our walking self-tour of the city. We went into the Duomo, the Medici Chapels and went for a walk by the Ponte Vecchio. Unfortunately, the weather finally turned on us and we were caught in the rain which led us back to the first hot, clean shower we had in weeks (some of these showers have actually made me dirtier than when I got in, I swear). We ended up meeting some Aussies at the hostel and spent the night playing cards and watching one Aussie get so drunk, she got lost going to her room at 10:30pm (I thought you were supposed to hold your liquor down under!). *Again, I am thankful for that cheap wine*

In the next couple of days we went to some Firenze markets, held up the leading tower of Piza (yes, it is actually leaning!!), and went for a sunset horseback ride in Chiante. (My life is a fairy tale right now, so where is my Prince Charming? He was probably one of the guys I ignored hitting on my blue eyes.. my favorite pick-up line being, "You dropped something... my heart".) The horseback ride was actually incredible. We rode through the vineyards and the counrtyside and ended the excursion with the best meal I have had in Italy and a wine tasting. Thankfully we didn't have to get back on horseback after that because by that point our group was playing "eye sthpyyyy, wif my little eyeeeee, something that begins wittthhhhh - hicup!" *I'm thankful for sunsets in Tuscany*

This brings me to my first Thanksgiving not spent at home with my family (awww, miss me?! miss me?! huh?! huh?! Don't roll your eyes Dad. I'm a million miles away but I can still see you...). We had a bit of a sleep-in this morning and then went to Cinque Terre. Cinque Terre is basically five amazing little villages along the northern coast of Italy which have a trail in the mountains connecting them. We underestimated the time it would take us to get there, so we arrived just in time to see the sun set over the first village. Since we traveled for about three hours to get there, this hike was happening even thought it was already 5:30pm. We started to climb a huge cliff overlooking the water and we had an amazing view the whole way up. We got to a part of the trail where the path was no wider than the width of my body and a huge cliff was right next to us... oh, and did I mention that it was also pitch black at this point? Neither of us could see anything so I whipped out my cell phone and with some encouraging words from Kimmy (and songs, specifically the lost boy song from Peter Pan) we entered a cave of vines by the light of my cell phone. *I'm thankful for cell phones* Along the way we ran into a family doing our hike in reverse. They of course were well prepared for the darkness and each had a flashlight. There Kimmy and I are in the middle of a trail with certain death inches to our right, walking by the light of my dying cell phone talking to a family with backpacks, walking sticks, and flashlights (just take a minute to appreciate that image). They warned us of how dangerous the path ahead was and that we really shouldn't go on without a flashlight. Oh! Okay Mrs. Minnesota! Thank you so much for your terrifying speech about narrow paths in utter darkness. If you were so concerned for our safety, you would have skipped the horrifying speech and your entire family history (three generations climbing through Cinque Terre "don't ya know?!). If you were really concerned about us you would have GIVEN US ONE OF YOUR FLASHLIGHTS!!! *I'm thankful for not being from Minnesota and for my self-restraint to not throw my cell phone at her face*

This Thanksgiving has been one to remember, and has given me a lot to be thankful for: my family, my friends, my Dougal Dog, my warm Uggs, gelotti, black and white dancing shoes, Thithavong Thai food, Channing Tatum, bows that I can put in my hair, and the fact that I can have each of these things when I return home in a few weeks (well, maybe not Channing Tatum...).

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!

From the Ghetto to the Slums

Last you read, we were sulking out of the Roma ghetto. In retrospect, Roma was a little piece of heaven compared to our next destination: Naples. My favorite part of Naples you ask? It's a 3-way tie between the trash covering ever part of every street, the parakeet calls from homeless men, and it's where I caught my annual horrendous cough (which I STILL have). I actually can't be too brutal about Naples because we didn't actually see any of it. As soon as we arrived at our hostel, we locked our backpacks up with more security features than the White House, loaded our guns, and headed outside into what I can only describe as a market filled with ex-convicts staring at two pieces of fresh meat. We got on a train to Pompeii because the idea of standing on a volcano that could erupt at any moment seemed safer than staying in our hostel (to the mothers reading this, we actually stayed in a castle and sat in a hot tub while servants brought us ice cream sundays and had a big guard standing at our door watching over us). Seeing the old village of Pompeii was actually pretty amazing. Kimmy and I have wasted our money in the past paying for the guided audio tours, so we decided to skip it and just walk around on our own. Of COURSE that was the one time that we actually needed them. Since there were no signs on the inside telling you what each room was, we decided to play a game and make up what we thought the purpose of room was (for example, one room was where they kept sheep, and another was where they sacrificed virgins). In the middle of our extremely educational experience, a man came up to us and asked us if we knew where we were. I replied "aren't we in Spain?" He gave us a nervous laugh, and then introduced himself as a tour guide and said that we should stick by him for the rest of the afternoon because our game was starting to give him chest pains. We had no objections.

This is where our trip gets interesting. We decided to run as fast as we could out of the Napoli slums, down to the Amalfi Coast. I should first mention that this would be our second time going there, as we got on the wrong train leaving Pompeii and ended up at the very bottom tip of Italy before either of us woke up to realize we had been going in the complete opposite direction for 2 hours. Yay! We got on the train and decided that since we had already been to the Amalfi train stop the night before, we would know when to get off again. However, this is Kimmy and Joanna you are dealing with, so of course we didn't end up in Amalfi. We got off at a random train stop with our backpacks, looked around at the empty world around us, and started laughing hysterically because we suddenly realized we had no plan for what to do next. We weren't even sure if we were in Amalfi. We just started walking. And walking. And walking.... And walking. Back spasms and empty stomachs combined with a cold and a cough made the two of us very pleasant people. We stumbled into a restaurant to get something to eat and basically collapsed at a table about 3 hours after we got off the train. There were no hostels in sight, and the one hotel we went into cost 100 euro a night (NOT HAPPENING!!). Over lunch we decided that seeing the coast was fun, and beautiful, but the severe lack of civilization and cheap beds was about to force us out of the south of Italy and into florence a day early. Just as we were bundling up to leave lunch, our waiter asked us if we had a place to say. When we looked up at him with our sad pathetic faces, I can swear that I saw a halo appear above his head as he handed us the address of a hostel for 10 euro a night. When we got to our room (which we realized was in Salerno, not Amalfi.. that's right, we WALKED from Amalfi to Salerno with our backpacks because that's obviously what the cool kids are doing these days) we were greeted by our roommate we was walking around completely naked and then decided to do crunches on the ground... completely naked. I chalked the situation up to culture shock, but when I was forced to step around her while trying to leave the room, that just crossed the line. Since I have preached the amazing benefits from wandering and getting lost, something good had to happen from accidently ending up in this town called Salerno; it did. We went for a long walk (as if we didn't walk enough that day) down to the coast and sat by the water for a long time watching some of the most spectacular waves I have ever seen, had the best gnocchi ever made, and found this amazing street filled with cute shops lit by only Christmas lights. Something is to be said about my getting lost philosophy because each time I do, I find something I would have never picked out on a map.

After the Roma ghetto, the Napoli slums and the naked girl hostel, we arrived in paradise; Firenze. I'm going to wait until my mother can catch her breath before I blog about Florence, but I can assure you, it has been nothing but a Utopia (which should make my next blog post very boring).

When in Rome… Don’t Look American

Saying goodbye to Barcelona was especially difficult because of how amazing it was there. We were completely spoiled by our experience there, and we both agreed that if we hadn’t already booked a flight to Rome, we would have stayed there a bit longer (if not the rest of the month!). Before we flew out, we had to go and see one more Gaudi building. We woke up at the crack of dawn to pack up and check out of Kabul hostel, and took our backpacks with us to Casa Mila (or La Pedrera which means stone quarry). We had seen it before from the outside, and had not been inside any of the houses yet, so we figured it was then or never. The inside of these buildings are just as impressive, if not more, as the outside. Casa Mila’s inspiration was either waves and kelp, or a sandy desert, however you wanted to interpret it (I swear I’m going to give you visual learners some pictures as soon as I am able to access internet for more than 15 minutes a day. In the meantime, look it up, okay? Thanks!). We said goodbye to Gaudi and Barcelona, and had a pretty uneventful Ryan Air flight to Roma (yes, I said uneventful, and I actually mean it for once!).

We arrived in Rome at around 5:30 and took a bus to our hostel, or should I say, to the ghetto. Kimmy and I were both silent as we walked through a dark alley way with greasy Italian men staring at us and actually meowing at us. Yes, meowing. Clearly we look like cats so when a man gave us a cat call from across the street we were ready to run over and go home with them. If only I didn’t have that bloody heavy backpack Daddy could have a new son-in-law. We dropped our bags off, and quickly decided to meet up with some friends we made in Spain who happened to be in Rome as well. I was starting to feel a bit sick and my throat was so scratchy I could barely swallow, but as they say, “when in Rome, do as the Roman’s do”, so I went with Kimmy and our friends on a pub crawl. I think everyone in the first pub could tell how cranky and miserable I was so they offered to give me a discount so I would shut my mouth and just walk around with all of them. I painted on my million dollar smile and imagined swallowing whole ice cubes to appear as if I were having a good time. Despite the fact that I felt awful, it was a fun way to see Rome on our first night. We walked all over the city and even though the other 49 people on the pub crawl won’t remember this, I saw some awesome sites late at night which was pretty spectacular. I took the next morning off because I woke up feeling awful. Rome was not getting off to a good start for me. However, I wasn’t about to let this fantastic city go to waste just because of a little sore throat. We went to the Colosseo for the afternoon and after walking inside, I forgot why I was so miserable. After that we took out a map and decided to see everything that we could possibly see before our legs collapsed. And so the check list begins:

- Area Sacrata
- Piazza Navona (had my 6 euro coffee for you Dad, Merry Christmas)
- Ara Pacis
- Trinita dei Monti (where I went to mass at the top of the steps like a good little Catholic)
- Fontana di Trevi (I threw in my 3 coins, made my wish, and will have to have a word with the fountain operators if I don’t marry Prince William)

We saw so much more, but the day quickly turned into a whirlwind blur of cough drops and ancient architecture. I got a good night’s sleep and woke up very early to make up for lost time the day before. First stop was the Vatican. My handy-dandy RDubs student ID card got me into the museum for 5 euro (if I hear one wise crack about graduating and being old I’m staying in Europe and not coming home. That is a serious threat so DON’T do it). We wandered around inside for a few hours and ended up in the Sistine Chapel where we were strictly forbidden to take pictures. Man, you won’t believe some of the amazing photos I took of the ceiling! Taking some advice from friends at home who have been to Roma before, I decided that taking a trip up to the top of the Basilica San Pietro was something I wanted to do. We stood in line for maybe a full 2 and a half minutes (contrary to what every tour guide on the street was telling us in hopes that we would pay them 50 euro so we could skip the line. H-A-H, two dumb American tourists? Try two street savy international beauties. – well, the New Yorker might be, but I can’t say the same for my small town Massachusetts friend who has been known to stop and chat with anyone who says Ciao Bella!). We decided to skip the elevator to the top, and took the stairs. As we took our first steps, we were wished good luck by a group of middle-aged women who really wanted us know they were too old to climb a few hundred stairs. I dropped a few pounds (weight, not currency) and got to the top to see the most incredible view of all of Roma. Honestly, I was speechless, and still am. There is nothing I can say about that view, and none of the 75 pictures I took from the top will allow you to see what I saw. After spending the day at the Vatican, we slowly wandered home and stopped at the Fontana di Trevi again because I decided I needed to make a more realistic wish (Prince William, I’m sorry, but I think I’m just too good for you).
Early tomorrow morning we are leaving to take a train down to Naples for a night or two. Everyone we have talked to about Naples so far says that we are going to be mugged and robbed and smacked around by big scary men, so I’m looking forward to it! Mom and Mrs. Spencer… WE ARE GOING TO BE FINE! *crosses fingers and sulks out of the Roma ghetto….*

Donde Esta... umm, food?

The past few days have been a complete whirlwind. I’m sleep deprived, shower deprived, internet deprived, and text deprived, but you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Barcelona has taken every concept of time and date I had so I am living in a world where people only exist for the moment they are in. It’s an amazing feeling.

We arrived at our hostel, Kabul, on Thursday night at around 12:30am. The hostel is located in Placia Reial on Las Ramblas which is THE place to be in Barcelona. The hostel was one huge pre-game party before everyone left to go to the bars and clubs at around 1:30am. I was not prepared to be nocturnal! Kimmy and I were exhausted from our journey, so we just got a good nights sleep before the city drained us of all our energy. On Friday morning the hostel provided a walking tour of the city and we decided to sign up for it. We made friends with some people on the tour with us who happened to be our roommates as well. These five people made Barcelona what it has been to me. They are each doing their masters at LSE in London and we all hit it off immediately. Each personality brought something to the group (I was dubbed as the cartoon character stuck in a real world with an abundance of energy and giggles… Sorry everyone from America, but this trip will never take the inner Disney kid out of me) and we ended up roaming through Barcelona attached to each other and having an amazing time touring the sites. We went to see many of the Gaudi buildings, my favorite being the Sagrada Familia which is a huge temple in the middle of the city. We went right up the inside of it and had a breathtaking view of all of Barcelona. Me and my stupid fear of heights made me the annoying Mama Jo (per usual) and I was flipping out on everyone who tried to sit the balcony a few hundred feet away from sure death had a crazed bird swooped down and pushed them with it’s beak (hey, it could happen!). Later that afternoon we went to Park Guell and climbed to the top of a hill to have yet another amazing view of the city. We all hung out at the top and had a siesta in the burning hot sun (I am TOTALLY bringing siestas back to the states with me… who said nap time had to end after kindergarten?!) Later that night we went out into the streets to get ourselves lost which was my idea of how to find the best local Spanish food. An hour later and my mouth was in cuisine heaven. After dinner we decided to check out the night life so at 2am we went out to a shot bar which had well over 100 different types of shots. I had one called a Willy Wonka, and another one which I have no idea what was in it, but they lit it on fire and handed me a marshmallow on a stick and I got to roast it on the flame before drinking it. Yeah, it was seriously cool and seriously tasty! Before I bore you with my hourly itinerary, the past few days consisted of a day trip to Sitges, a cable car ride over the water, a flamenco show, a long hike up Tibidabo, and a walk through the Barcelona ghetto (it’s okay mom, it was daylight.. kinda..).
I’m learning so much about so much. Not only cultural information and the history of the city, but a lot about myself. My newest thing which I learned I love is getting lost. I purposely take the wrong way so I can end up in a place that I didn’t expect to find. I’m also learning of a deeper inner-happiness within myself. Little things in live have always made me happy (like sippy-cups, and the cap of a Snapple bottle that clicks), but I’m realizing that the big things in life make me happy too. Meeting a group of the most amazing people and forming friendships that after 48 hours will last me a lifetime, is a huge happiness that I am now much more appreciative of.



Tonight is my last night in Barcelona and tomorrow afternoon we fly to Rome. I can only hope that the next stop on our journey is as amazing as the first two have been.

Bon Voyage Barcelona!

Tootles England, Hola Barcelona!

It’s hard to believe that a month has gone by already. I started and lived a different life in London. It was sad leaving a place I have called home for a month. Saying goodbye to people who have taken care of me and walked in and out of my daily life in London will be sorely missed. On my second to last night in London I decided to take one last walk down the millennium mile with nothing but my ipod and my thoughts. I walked to the London eye because I hadn’t seen it at night before and I thought there was something appealing about having my last London night mirror my first London day. While Third Eye Blind sang Motorcycle Drive By to me I stood completely alone in an empty street underneath the icy blue lights. There are very few times in my life where I can say that I was happier than I was in that moment. “I’ve never been so alone, and I’ve never been so alive” (perfect song choice if I do say so myself).

My last day in London I took my ipod with me again (I should name him Frank or Bob, any suggestions?) and decided I wanted to get myself lost so I could see something that only I would find. I got on the tube and got off at a stop called Tower Hill because I thought that maybe, just maybe, the name was hinting to the fact that I would find the Tower of London there. Imagine the irony of me walking out of Tower Hill tube station to find… The Tower of London (okay, MAYBE I was hoping I would end up there)! I took a guided tour of the Tower of London from a Beefeater (yes they really do exist, and yes they do wear the same ridiculous outfits you see on the bottle of gin. Apparently to become one you have to serve in the army for 20 years – that number could be wrong, but I was too distracted by his big red hat to remember the specifics). He told us stories of kings and queens losing their heads by guillotine and kept the whole crowd entertained by bringing us back to that time and having us yell and scream as an angry riot preparing for a beheading. Great fun! After the tour I walked around for a bit longer and saw the crown jewels. Let’s just say that after being in a room with the biggest diamond in the world, I gained an unrealistic expectation of what my engagement ring will look like (or maybe a tiara?!). After the Tower, I walked over to the Tower Bridge and walked along it twice because once wasn’t enough to experience it. I went home that evening and played tennis with Rob and his neighbor George and had a fabulous time. I was told that if I stayed there longer I could have played on the women’s team, oh well!

This morning I packed up my little London room (thanks Joshy!) and Kimmy and I headed to Luton airport to catch our plane to Barcelona! Got to the airport, got on the plane, safe flight, landed in Barcelona. Pretty dull trip. *starts to giggle* Alright I couldn’t keep a straight face with that one. Of course our adventures are never dull. We got to the airport and stood waiting in line to board our plane for over an hour. After that hour and change we realized they changed our gate number without any notice what-so-ever. We went from being the first in line at gate 24 to the last in line at gate 22. After standing there for another 15 minutes, an announcement came on and said that our gate had been changed yet again to gate 20. Well, I don’t need to see the running of the bulls while I’m in Spain because I was literally caught in the middle of a stampede of people sprinting to the new gate as if a herd of angry bulls were chasing us. As for the flight; WORST turbulence I have ever experienced in my entire life.

Right, well, I made it to the first hostel in our first country with a backpack; Barcelona! Everything is more incredible than I imagined. Our Hostel is on Las Ramblas and we have an incredible view of a gorgeous square. I have met some AMAZING people that have already had a huge impact on my life and after only 48 hours with them, I know they are people I can and will never forget. More stories to come I am sure, so stay tuned!

It's up to you

Just about a month of my trip has gone by, and it would be an understatement to say that I am having an amazing time. I have been very fortunate to have been able to keep in touch with friends and family from home (some more than others; Mom & Dad: I appreciate the laundry list of things I need to do every time you call me; Malee: I think I talk to you more now that I’m out of the country, Lucy: GoogleTalk is a lifeline, Brad: your name appears in my inbox more than spam). I have really enjoyed writing about my trip, and letting everyone know about my London adventures and mishaps. Kimmy and I plan to leave to go backpacking through Europe next week, which brings me to the point of this post: should I bring my laptop with me?

I had planned from the start to bring my laptop on my trip with me so I would be able to keep up with my blog on a regular basis, to let everyone from home (both homes, the states and London) know where I was and what I was up to. However, I have been completely underwhelmed by the communication I have received through this blog. Despite my great efforts to beg people to comment on my posts, and communicate with me through this blog, I have been contacted by two people (thanks TJ and Dad). As soon as I leave my comfortable London bubble, I will be extremely limited to my time on the internet, which means no more personal emails, IMing and GoogleTalk. I would rather not risk losing my laptop or having it stolen abroad, if I am just blogging to please myself. I am very content doing what my travel buddy is doing and writing a journal in a pretty little notebook with a pretty little purple flower on the cover. So guys, it’s up to you. If you want me to continue with this blog, you need to tell me. Use this blog for it’s intended use, and use it to communicate (“to exchange thoughts by speech, writing or other means”.. key word, *exchange*) with me. If I get no feedback, the expensive laptop stays in London, and I will write my entries in an inexpensive notebook. It’s up to you!

PS. Today was my last day at my UM internship. I left today with some great friends, awesome experience, a set of new ipod speakers, and an invitation to come back to UM if I come back to London! All-in-all I'd say the past 2 and a half weeks have definitely been worth it, and it looks like I will be coming back to London to work in the future!

Whiskers + Satan = One Interesting Weekend

This past weekend was pretty hectic for me and included a Halloween extravaganza, a fight with a train ticket machine (not man, but machine), a visit to the country to see my family, and a reunion with my favourite English boy, Josh!

A Clutter of Cats
On Halloween I decided that just because I was in London, land of the dull boring people who don’t dress up in ridiculous costumes, I wasn’t going to forget one of my favourite holidays. After work I met up with Kimmy do to a bit of costume shopping. After we failed miserably, I went home to my closet, thew on all black clothes, painted some whiskers on my face, and voila, I was a cat! We went to a pub near our house which was having a Halloween party, realized that every girl in the pub also decided to paint whiskers on their faces, and danced the night away as a clutter of cats.



Satan’s Ticket Machine
Saturday morning came extremely quickly, and I had to wake up early to catch a train to go to see my Grandmother and the rest of my family for lunch in the country. Since my family reads this blog, I will just say that my first experience with the London overground was not a pleasant one. I took the tube to the overground station and allowed myself 40 minutes to buy my ticket, find the train, and grab a much needed cup of coffee. I stood in a queue (I’m SO English) at a ticket machine for 15 of my 40 minutes allowed before my train left, and then proceeded to push what seemed like a hundred different buttons just to purchase the correct ticket. I then had to put in one of the 20£ notes Rachel had lent me (because somehow Sebastian came to be in possession of my cash card the night before and I realized in the morning that he never returned home... I told you, I really needed that cup of coffee), and then the fun began. The machine failed to tell me that it only accepts 10£ notes which obviously I had none of. I kindly asked the machine to accept my money as I forced it back into the money slot over and over and over again. As I watched my allotted coffee time slipping away, I noticed the line I would have to wait in to talk to an actual human being if the ticket machine refused my generous offer to kick it repeatedly if it didn’t take my money. I consider myself a stubborn person (okay Mum, a VERY stubborn person), but I graciously accepted defeat as I listened to the crowd of angry Englishmen get riled up behind me, and I limped away from Satan. I moved into the next line to go purchase my ticket from the ticket window and found myself to be the 9,000,001st person in line. I realized that not only was I not getting my coffee, but I wasn’t going to make the train. I called my uncle who was supposed to pick me up at the other end, and was told to catch a different train to a different station which he would then kindly drive through horrendous traffic to pick me up from. No coffee. Sprinted to the train. Sat next to a man who’s music could be heard through my own headphones. Finally arrived. Is it coffee time yet?

When I got to GM’s I was given my coffee, and I was a treat to be around for the rest of the afternoon. I saw 4 of my 5 first cousins, my uncle Hugh, my aunt Alex and her husband Jonathan. It’s a very rare occasion to get everyone together for one afternoon and I absolutely loved spending time with all of them. My cousin Zoe and I caught a train back to London that evening, and then I went off to see Lydia’s show for the second time.



My Joshy
When I got back to London, Josh Wilson had come home from university for the weekend to come see the show with us. Josh is one of my best friends despite the fact that I only see him once a year in Provincetown. We got to hang out all night Saturday and Sunday. I miss him terribly every time I leave Ptown, and it was so great not to have to wait a full year to see him again!
Even though I had a bit of a rough Saturday morning, my weekend was otherwise fabulous. And because I got to see my family and an old friend, I really don’t mind my still-throbbing foot (damn you Satan, we WILL meet again!).

Introducing Miss Lydia Wilson (I know her!)

Lydia Wilson. Remember that name everybody. When you hear about her becoming the biggest star of the London stage, or see her in a movie, you will all hear the story about the time I came to London and lived with her in her house and watched her star in her first public play at RADA. Lydia is another Provincetown vacationer who I have grown up with and watched become the most fantastic actress I have ever known in the flesh. I am not just boasting her acting abilities because she is my friend, but because she is actually an incredible actress. Lydia is in her third and final year at the most prestigious acting school in the world, RADA (Royal Academy of Dramatic Art). Still don’t believe that she is something special? RADA only accepts about 30 students out of thousands of applicants every year. So not only was Lydia accepted into the school, but in her first play open to the public, she was given the lead roll (hey lydz, I love you!).



This past week I have seen the show twice. The play was called Villette which is a Charlotte Bronte novel. Lydia played the character of Lucy Snow who seems to be trapped in a world that is half reality and common sense, and half fiction and dreams. Watching Lydia in the play the first time, I suddenly realized that I had no idea what was going on in the play, because I had spent the entirety of the first half only watching the star (my friend.. Who I lived with in London.. Who I see every year in Provincetown. Did I mention that we go way back?). I realized that it was hopeless to try and pick up on the story line after that, so I had to go back and see the play again.

Congratulations Lydia on an amazing performance, and I can't wait to follow your career as the star I know you will become!

Workin' for the Weekend

My recent absense from blog land is likely due to the fact that I, Joanna Nettelfield, have a job. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I am working on my vacation. Before I give details of my job and being a big girl in London, I first need to give a shout-out to Rob Wilson who organized my current internship as well as took Kimmy and I into his home (which he and his wife realize means full access to phones, refrigerator, and of recent times, his car... Seriously Rob, what are you thinking?) But in all seriousness, a huge thank you to the Wilsons, and a shining star to Rob for making things way too easy for me.

Now for the good stuff. I have been hired for a very brief internship at a media company in London called Universal McCann. As the name suggests, it is an international company and I am working in their London office which is located in Farringdon. I started at UM last Thursday and will be with them until the second week of November. As an intern, I have been given many fun and exciting intern jobs like checking Excel spreadsheets, editing PowerPoint presentations, and silently sitting in on meetings in which I have no clue what is going on. But to be honest, I am really enjoying my time here. The people I work with are incredibly welcoming, sweet, and helpful. UM has many prestigious clients such as Microsoft, Xbox, and Brown Forman, which owns labels for Jack Daniel’s and Southern Comfort . I have been placed on the Xbox team but have somhow only done work for Microsoft and Brown Forman (lucky for me, computers and I get along very well, and SoCo and I have had a long running love affair... Add video games to the mix and I might never go back to the states!).

I have never worked with a media company before, and I have learned so much about this field since I have been at UM. Advertising has always been a job avenue that I have kept in the back of my mind, but never actually pursued anything in the field. I am finding it all incredibly fascinating but not terribly exciting. After a number of internships and jobs, I am learning more about my professional self, and what I am learning is that I don’t think I am cut out for a desk job. I get very bored and lonely sitting at a desk staring at a computer all day. I find myself staring at the clock all day wishing it’s end to suddenly arive so I can leave my worst enemy, the PC, behind. I have come to realize that I need different environments, different people, different schedules day after day. I like to be excited and challenged, and even stressed out. I like instant gratification with my work. I like to work towards an immediate deadline, achieve it, and then feel like I accomplished my goal with a tangiable outcome. The good thing about internships is that I can do as many as I want until I figure out exactly what I want to do with the rest of my life (Don’t worry Jamestown, I’m still coming back to you, but I have a feeling that being the “JD Girl” is a job inteded for girls in Never Never Land and sadly, I will grow up, and the last thing you want is a 35 year old pretending shes 22 saying “Jamestown Distributors, DOT, com *wink*).

So, I have caught you up on my job and such. Plans for this weekend are quickly getting hectic. Friday is Halloween, an American tradition of absurd costumes which Kimmy and I plan on bringing to the conservitive Brits (England never really stood a chance with the two of us). Saturday morning I am catching a train to my grandmother’s house in the country to see my Dad’s brother, sister and a few of my cousins. Saturday night JOSH is coming home! Josh is the son of the Wilsons and has been one of my best friends since before either of us can remember meeting. Lots of plans are coming up and we have a lot to fit in because we only have about a week and a half left in London before we take off with our backpacks to reap havoc all over Europe!

Everyone Should Have a Godfamily

This past weekend, my Godfather Antony was kind enough to invite us to his country house in Lymington. Kimmy and I left Queen’s Park at 7:30 in the morning on Saturday to arrive at his house in Wimbledon by 8:30. We packed up his car and we were on the road by 9:30 (would have been earlier but my Godbrother James was having a bit of difficulty getting out of bed so early!). A two hour nap later, we were at the house in the country! Antony has a great little motorboat, so after we got ourselves situated in the house, we bundled up in scarves and jackets and went to the Yacht Club to take a boat ride over to the Isle of Wight for some tea.



As you can see from the video (and hear from Kimmy's screams of joy), we had a blast on the boat ride and had another sunny gorgeous day in England (I’m convinced we are the bearers of good weather and anyone who disagrees probably has a thundercloud over their head). We sat down for a much needed hot cup of tea as we looked out onto the water. It was my idea of a completely blissful afternoon. After tea we got back onto the boat and went back to Lymington.
Kimmy, James and I were all exhausted little children, so we each took up a couch and had a much needed nap before dinner. My Godfamily, Kimmy and I all watched a movie together, and then went to bed. The next day James took us on a bike ride back to the Yacht Club where we met the others for lunch.




I have really enjoyed seeing the Chandlers while over here. I don’t get to see them very often, but it feels like I have a second family (complete with the brothers I have always wanted) over here, which is very comforting. They have been so kind to us and we both appreciate their incredible kindness and hospitality!

Now I Lay Thee Down to Sleep...

One of our recent day trip adventures was to Highgate Cemetery, located in Highgate, London, England. The cemetery was opened in 1839 as one of seven modern burial grounds when inner-city cemeteries became too full. This site is home to a number of famous deceased writers, actors, artists and philosophers; the most famous being Karl Marx.





Normally, cemeteries are not my favorite place to be. I have always been the girl to hold her breath while driving past one, so I don't breathe in their haunting spirits (whoever thought up that superstition must have had a really awful experience with a graveyard, so I'd rather not question it). However, this cemetery took my breath away (no pun intended). Stepping foot on the grounds made me feel as if I was walking into a Tim Burton movie. Highgate is completely overgrown with trees disturbing the eternal resting places of the departed, vines erasing the names of those buried, and a chilling wind which seemed to be pushing us out of the cemetery. Every time I walked through a spider web, I was thrashed by the corpse bride's veil, and when I crushed a leaf with my foot, Edward Scissorhands took a chunk out of my hair.

















Those who know me best are well aware of the fact that I don't deal with scary situations very well. I cry when I see a scary movie, I screech when somebody startles me, and I will violently hit you if you even mention the clown from Saw (I'm serious... Don't do it). So for me to say that Highgate Cemetery was frightenly beautiful, you know that there is something wonderfully unique about it that put my fears at ease.




Take a look at this video for a quick walk through the cemetery:

Josh Harnett followed us to London

We have been in London for just over a week now, and have fallen into the London routine. We go for walks in the park, drink tea 12 times a day, wine with every dinner, and we have both been desperately trying to pick up an English accent (sorry mom, but it WILL happen!). It just seemed that to enhance our London experience, we would need to visit the London theatre. We looked through the entertainment section of the newspaper and asked anyone and everyone for their recommendations on what shows held the "hot tickets." The fairly unanimous suggestion was to see Rain Man. We agreed (and of course that decision had nothing to do with the fact that the play happens to star Josh Hartnett, and we would be able to gaze at his sheer beauty for two glorious hours). Putting the obviously handsome star aside, the play was terrific. I was a bit skeptical as to how the movie would translate onto the stage, but it was actually done beautifully. We both really enjoyed ourselves and only had one complaint about the show... We would have liked the scene where Josh Harnett took his shirt off to last a bit longer.

Vamos Wimbledon!

For years and years I have watched my tennis idols on TV walk through the Wimbledon grounds, enter Center Court, and leave with the euphoria of victory, or the heartbreak of defeat. I have seen crowds of English hopefuls sitting on Henman Hill, eyes glued to the big screen wishing that their star player will take home the title. I have watched Roger Federer on the verge of making history in the 2008 finals, but instead watched Nadal take home the trophy (Vamos Rafa!!). It's surprising the amount of emotion a mere spectator can put into the Wimbledon tournament a thousand miles away. After years of pouring these emotions into my television screen (and into the arm of whoever was unlucky enough to sit next to me) I was able to visit the site where it all happened, The All England Lawn Tennis Club.

My Godfather, Antony, lives in Wimbledon Village and asked Kimmy and I to stay with him and his family on Monday night. I have not seen them in years so I was looking forward to seeing them again. We took the tube to the village and then walked to their beautiful house. We had dinner and played catch-up on everyone's lives since I was last here in 2002. On Tuesday morning my "godbrother" (if there is such a thing) drove Kimmy and I down to the legendary Wimbledon tennis grounds. As soon as we walked through the gates I felt the history of the grounds instantly. I knew we were in the presence of tennis excellence, and I suddenly felt very small. I have played tennis for years and have done quite well for myself (two CCC titles in a row and the chance to play at Nationals, thank you very much!), but that all seemed incredibly insignificant while I looked up to see the stadium that holds Center Court.

We went into the museum and got headsets that took us on a guided tour of the showcased memorabilia. We learned all sorts of things about how tennis originated and the history of the Wimbledon Championships. At the end of our tour we did just what every other tourist does when they visit Wimbledon, and went into the gift shop for souvenirs (I may be a citizen of this country, but that won't stop me from buying an "I *heart* England" t-shirt!). Unfortunately, the grounds are under major construction at the moment, so we were unable to walk through and see into Center Court or any other courts. And the most unfortunate occurrence of the day was when that good old English weather finally arrived. At that point we opened our umbrellas, and left.

Game. Set. Match. Wimbledon rain defeats Kimmy & Joanna.

We Live & We Learn... The Hard Way

Last night Kimmy and I got our first real taste of London night life. A friend of mine, Emily, is studying abroad in London this semester, so I got in touch with her and she took us out on the town. Kimmy and I took the tube to the center of town and had dinner in China Town while we waited for Emily and her friends to meet us there. We were a bit early, so we decided to sit down on a busy street and people watch (one of my favorite past times) for about an hour. About 85% of the girls walking past us were extremely dressed up in fancy dresses and bright colored heels. Sitting on the street in our jeans and sneakers, we felt like the two American tourists who didn't get the memo on how to dress on a Saturday night in the city. **Lesson #1: Dress to Impress.**

When we met up with Emily she took us to a place called the Fudge Bar which she was pretty familiar with. We had a few drinks, met some nice English boys, and met up with a number of other students from Roger Williams who are all studying abroad in London for the semester. Kimmy and I went up to the bar to buy a drink, paid for them, and then realized we were completely stiffed on our change. We went back to the bartender to ask him to correct his mistake, and after a few minutes of him trying to cheat us out of our money, my New York attitude put him in his place, and we were given our money back. **Lesson #2: Repeat after me.. I am from NEW YORRRK.. I know how to COUNT!**



When we decided to leave the bar to go home, we quickly realized that the tube stops running at midnight, and it was about 1:30 at this point. We were told that we would need to take a bus home, so after about an hour and a half of literally running through the streets chasing double-decker buses, getting on the wrong buses, fighting with a few bus drivers, we managed to get on the right bus to take us back to Queen's Park. **Lesson #3: Disregard Lesson #1.. Running sneakers are a necessity if you want to catch your bus.**

We lived. We learned. One Step at a time.

Eye Love London

"You know the sunlight always shines, behind the clouds of London skies"

Funny how everyone told me that the fall is the worst time to go abroad. "It will be rainy and miserable and completely foggy the entire time." Since we arrived, we have seen nothing but sunshine, and 65 degree temperatures. I'm sure I'll regret rubbing this in everyone's faces once the first cloud appears overhead, but until then, London is gorgeous!

Having good weather the past few days has been a complete blessing. A good friend of mine, Sebastian, took Kimmy and I sightseeing the other day. He had told us where to meet him, which meant that we had to figure out how to use this so-called "tube" all by ourselves. In typical Joanna&Kimmy fashion, we made complete spectacles of ourselves trying to figure it out. After holding up a line at a machine to put money on our oyster cards (equivalent to a metrocard) we made it onto the train, and found Sebastian at Picadilly Circus (I love the names of these places!). He took us down to the Thames River where we saw the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abby, the London eye, and good old Big Ben. We walked for ages, and went down a street where there were tons of street performers including a man dressed as Charlie Chaplin who seemed to really like the two of us. After hours of walking around, we headed back home to Queen's Park.

Kimmy and I both decided that we wanted to go back to the center of London again because we didn't see everything the first time around, so yesterday we went back on the tube and went to the London Eye. I have never done well with heights, so I was a bit anxious stepping into a glass capsule that was about to take me 443 feet into the air. Once we got off the ground I was perfectly fine and saw all of London from a completely unique perspective. It's a good thing all you weather pessimists warned us of the fog and rain, because we felt incredibly lucky to be able to see for miles in every direction out of our little Willy Wonka glass elevator.

It's Begun...

In my efforts to procrastinate joining the "real world" as long as possible, I have left the great states of America to see what else this wold has to offer. As a 21st birthday present from my parents last year, I was given a one-way ticket out of the country. It was a bit of a joke at first, but the idea to ship me out was very real. After graduating in May (or as my diploma says, August... Thanks to Roger Williams for letting my community service slip through the cracks) I was unsure of what I was supposed to do. Without any real plans for what to do next, a professor of mine gave me a lead for an internship which I happily went on an interview for. After hardly any work on my part, the internship fell into my lap, which quickly turned into an offer for a full-time job in Rhode Island. Knowing I still had this one-way ticket to cash in on from my parents, I had almost jokingly went into my boss's office asking for a three month vacation while I frolicked around Europe with my friend Kimmy. He agreed to hire me in January, and the rest is history!

Kimmy and I booked a flight from New York to London without any plans of what to do once we got here. After a hundred emails and phone calls later, we arranged for my English grandmother (GM as she insists on being called) to pick us up from the airport and bring us back to her house in Odiham, and then have my aunt pick us up from her house and bring us to her house (more like a castle) to spend the night. Our flight took off from New York on Monday night, and since then we have left America, been to Odiham, Dodington, went for a long walk in the New Forest, seen my grandmother, my aunt, gotten about 7 hours of sleep, and it is now Wednesday afternoon. Ugh!

In a little while my aunt will be driving us to London where we will be staying with a very good family friends Rob Wilson. Every year we see him and his family in Provincetown where we all go on vacation. One of his sons, Josh (who I am very close with) is away at University, so Kimmy and I will be staying in his room for a month while he is away. Neither of us are entirely sure of what we will be doing in London yet, but a few weekend trips are planned to go visit my family and friends all over England.