It’s a lot of work planning out these trips because we don’t do an organized thing. We do the whole thing from scratch, something I think can be compared to building your own house without a contractor. We are on our own…which is quite intimidating. But I’m getting better at it. Experiences like sleeping on the sidewalk in France and getting chased by an elephant in South Africa have helped me realize that things will work out. One way or another, things work out.

This will fulfill the promise I made to my kids several years ago, a one-on-one trip with each of them to wherever in the world they wanted to go. It has turned out to be one of the best ideas I ever had. The times spent with Aubree in Europe and Curtis in Africa are beyond words…and pictures. Two solid weeks alone with each of my kids, experiencing new things, learning new things…it’s an amazing opportunity. I am so grateful to be in a position where I can do this with them and to have a supportive wife.

So for any of you that have been to Greece or Turkey, please pass on your thoughts, ideas, and suggestions. We’ll be heading out in September!

I don’t think this type of show is for everyone. I would even bet most people will hate it. But for those of us who often see life through bland colored glasses, I think it makes some sense, teaches a few things, and even offers hope.

The movie was sometimes sweet, sometimes sad, often sardonic. At times it seemed to drag on way too long. Caden spends so much of his time trying to understand himself and figure out “why,” that he forgets to live. His efforts to make sense of his life are so extreme (he stages a grand play to reenact his entire life in an attempt to understand it) that it robs him of new experiences. He lives life by looking in the rear view mirror, searching for meaning and answers. And the answers are dismal; we are alone, there isn’t a higher purpose, and there isn’t rhyme or reason to our existence. But what else would you expect from this type of movie? The irony, however, is that these particular answers exist only because he wants more from life than living. When living isn’t enough, it’s a bitter road. Wanting more is either an insatiable and disappointing quest or a delusional existence.

(The next section has spoilers and harsh language in the movie quote)

In one scene, Caden’s  grown daughter wants an apology from him for something he did not do. She’s dying so he plays along. He confesses to her and apologizes for the things he never did. But she can’t accept his apology. This theme comes out multiple times, things we want (or think we want because we crave for them all our lives) won’t give us what we expect. We search for what we think will fix us…but the searching is the real problem, evidence of our insecurity and denial. There are no magic words to soothe our torment. If we can’t open our eyes and live in the now, we live in pain and sadness trying to make sense of the confusion that is our past. Perhaps if Caden could have celebrated his existentialist mindset and embraced the lack of answers even while he searched for them, things could have been different. Maybe in the end he accomplishes this (we faded to white instead of black). But how sad to find it at the very end of an existence.

I have never seen a movie with so many references to feces. Multiple scenes related to taking a dump, actual wiping of the arse, toilets. Life can be shit. His certainly was. I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything different from one of the best presentations on existentialism I have ever seen. It really captures that mindset. The payoff is the speech given by the preacher, which hit my gut like a cannonball.

Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life any time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you’ll never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected, to make you feel whole, to make you feel loved. And the truth is I’m so angry and the truth is I’m so fucking sad, and the truth is I’ve been so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long have been pretending I’m ok, just to get along, just for, I don’t know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own, and their own is too overwhelming to allow them to listen to or care about mine. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.

I consider myself a pretty dark person, my view of the world tends to be depressing. But I fall short of the preachers (Caden’s) extreme view. Lop off that last sentence and it resonates better with me, which I find comforting. That last sentence sums up Caden’s miserly, his downfall. It is him living in the past, not embracing the present and not reaching out to the people around him. I do better than Caden in that area, but I still fall way short of where I ought to be.

Long travel days suck me dry. Today started with an early ride on the metro to the airport. Of all the travelling I’ve done, Barcelona is the easiest and most affordable city for airport transportation. Most places will rake your wallet for a ride to get to and from the airport, but in Barcelona a standard inexpensive metro pass gets you there no problem.

Our first layover was in Brussels and for Aubree that meant one thing, Belgian Chocolate. She wasn’t too happy, however, to see it stuffed and sealed in the customs-friendly bag. She was  even less happy when I told her we couldn’t open it until we got home. After all, her argument to buy it was “Curti wants chocolate, that’s all he asked for…we have to get some for him!”

I tried to sleep on the flight to Philly but it wasn’t so easy. At least we had 3 seats between the two of us, which gave us a bit more room. Dramamine didn’t even help, normally that stuff knocks me right out. I think I was just too excited to get home and see Sandi, Curti, and Mikayla than to catch Z’s. We made it to Philly and had to hang out for a couple hours.

Normally I hate the last leg of a flight, especially a 5 hour one. By that point I’m ready to be home and I get anxious and jittery. The seats seem smaller and it’s all I can do to keep from jumping up and screaming “Get me off this Plane!” But as Aubree and I were waiting for the final departure, Keefer, a stocky guy sat next to us and gave us a hearty greeting. We ended up talking for the entire flight, it was really cool. He was a fascinating, old-fashioned tough guy who spends his retirement fishing the world. In fact, he was just returning from the North Pole where they canoed hundreds of miles fishing the wilderness.

When I say Keefer is an old-fashioned tough guy, I’m not using a metaphor. He’s a Harley riding, bar brawling, tattooed black belt, former special Ops sniper who could give Jack Baer a run for his money. Several scars on his Clint-Eastwood-like face were like a billboard saying “Go Ahead, Make my Day.” As we talked, and he told me of a fight he once got into on an airplane, I said, “You know Keefer, I’m totally opposite of you…the only fights I ever got in I didn’t even fight back. I wish I would have, and if I ever get assaulted again I’m not going to take it. But back in 5th grade, I didn’t.” He nodded and said, “I could learn a lot from you Warren, and you could learn a lot from me. Somewhere in the middle is the ideal balance. So if it happens again, what are you going to do? Have you thought about it?”

So he gave me some pointers and, right there in the coach section of a 737, and showed me how to kick somebody’s ass (lol, as if it was that easy). He said most fights are over with the first punch, always get the first punch. But I struggle with that. It goes against my nature to take the aggressive stance like that. By the end of it he was all pumped up and said, “#@$%%%! Now I want to get in a fight!” I laughed and said, “Dang man, I hope nobody accidently bumps into you on the way off the plane!”

He left home and school during 7th grade and forged his own life which led through a GED, the military, and a multimillion dollar construction business that allowed him to retire at 50 and travel the world fishing. A fascinating life.

I don’t get the sense he generally tries to start fights. All the brawls he told me about were cases where he stepped up to defend either himself or somebody else. But I don’t think it takes much to antagonize him. Although I don’t want to be quite as aggressive as him, I do want to rough up my edges in some places. I admire how direct he can be with people. Like the woman who kept kicking the back of his seat on one plane ride telling him to put his seat up. He told her he was tired and needed to sleep, so she started hitting his head with her magazine. He grabbed the magazine and turned around and said “If you do that one more time, I’ll put your head through the back of that wall.”  (This wasn’t the plane fight I mentioned earlier, no old ladies were hurt or injured in that story.)

I don’t want to be that aggressive, but knowing me, I would have just put my seat up and let that grumpy old woman push me around. I don’t like that either. And he said, “You know, if she would have just asked nice I would have compromised, but she was a total @$$.” Personally, I prefer to work with people and compromise but I’ve let bullies intimidate me too many times. It doesn’t happen very often in my life anymore, but there are a lot of real dicks out there in the world and I still run across them from time to time.

It was exciting standing on the curb watching for the RAV to come around the corner when Sandi and Curti picked us up. Mikayla was in California with her friend and we wouldn’t get to see her for several more days. We got hugs, went home, gave out our presents (Sandi loved her jewelry), and I finally got to sleep in my own bed. I remember the night I slept on the sidewalk that was all I could think about, how comfy my own bed was. Course…I couldn’t sleep. Exhausted…but unable to sleep all night. Dang jet lag.

The trip was awesome. It was a nice blend of different types of experiences and I wouldn’t want to change anything about it. Not the heat, not the long train rides, not the night on the streets…I really had a great time and expanded my view of life and the world. It was neat to spend so much time with Aubree. She is sure a wonderful young woman; smart, witty, vivacious, and sensitive. I appreciated how flexible she was with our plans. She rolled and adapted with all our struggles and pushed through the exhausting moments. I know there were times she was frustrated, but she didn’t take it out on me. Especially with how tight I can be on when it comes to money. My old high school buddy used to say “Nobody can stretch a dollar like Warren.” My enemies say “Warren is a selfish old miser.” They are both right.

I just feel fortunate that I have a 17 year old daughter willing to spend almost two solid weeks on a vacation alone with her old man. It’s the type of thing I think a typical 17 year old might see more as a punishment than a gift. But not only did she agree to it, she did it and together we laughed, hiked, sweated, explored, got lost…just the two of us, in Europe. Awesome The only sad thing about the trip is that it is over now. I’ll never have a chance like that with my oldest 17 year old daughter again. She’s going to go her own way in life very soon, it’s already happening. But the good thing is the memories and pictures will be with me forever.

Stay tuned for a large collection of Pictures from the trip…

Our vacation has come down to this, one final day. The days have seemed so long and full of activities that at times it felt like this trip would go on forever. Yet now they have slipped past, much faster than I expected. But I think we are both ready to get home. It has been a fast-paced high-activity adventure and I am looking forward to getting home for some relaxation. But before that happens, we have one more fabulous day in Barcelona and we both are geared up to make the most of it.

We rode the metro down closer to the waterfront and were cutting through the Gothic section of town towards the beach when we stumbled upon a bicycle rental shop. We rented bikes and I have to tell you, after walking everywhere for ten days, it felt like a Dukati. We zoomed through the alleys, weaved through pedestrians, and in what felt like seconds had already reached the beach area. I felt like the whole world was within my reach on that rickety old bike as we covered in seconds the same ground we’d spent hours pounding on foot. We instantly agreed that renting bikes was one of the best things we’d done (but a big part of the thrill came from the build up of 10 days of hoofing it).

I zigzagged around the trees as we went through an open park area approaching the beach and then we rode to the far end and up to the water. There were naked men, old naked men, all over the place. It reminded me of the time I stumbled upon a gay nude beach in Miami with my kids years ago. DOH! So Aubs and I rode along until the men had Speedos and women also dotted the landscape.

We followed the sidewalk along the beach, tons of people were sunning, jogging, and swimming. An older, mildly chubby lady jogged towards me and her boobs popped clear up out of her bikini with every bounce. Hilarious. Some of the women down on the beach were topless, it’s not a big deal in Europe. I’ve always found it interesting that here in the US we are more tolerant of violence than nudity but that it is reversed in Europe. In the US, it’s okay to show someone beat the living hell out of another person but if a nipple happens upon the screen, watch out…it’s the end of the world. They are much more strict on televised violence here. I find it disturbing that we are more afraid of our bodies than horrific violence…but I could write pages on that topic.

We ended our beach run and turned back up in to town (with the plan that we would return to swim a bit later). We stopped at a very cute cafe and had the best lunch ever. It was sooo good! The smoothies fell way short, they don’t have that art down yet, but the jamon serrano (cured pork) and tomato sandwich was heaven!

After we’d cooled off and finished our food, we went straight to the beach to swim. As we neared the beach, I noticed the balconies that adorned the tall, colorful buildings had beach towels hanging over the railings. It had a free, easy-going feeling, very different feel than the old section of town we’d just left. We locked up our bikes and walked across the hot sand to the water. I sat on our towel and kept watch on our backpack while Aubs took the first dip. She swam out, dove down, floated on her back, and spit a mouthful of water in to the air like the stone fountains in Rome. No, she didn’t really do that last part…but it makes for a nice visual.

After she finished, I took my turn. The water was perfect. I grew up swimming in the warm waters of Lake Powell and Lake Mead and so most places I swim are too cold for me. This water was the ideal temperature. It let me escape the heat with a refreshing instant cooling over my entire body…but stopped short of feeling too cold. It’s an almost impossible combination to find naturally and I could have stayed in it all day. The only thing I would have changed is a nice reef, mask, fins, and a snorkel.

The beach was gorgeous. Soft sand, cool water, sunshine. Don’t miss a chance to swim in the Mediterranean and get a tan. It’s really an ideal place to relax, unwind, and enjoy a peaceful afternoon. Just don’t forget sunblock and cold drinking water. Ideally, add a nice big towel to lay on for each person, a Frisbee, a mask, and a beach umbrella (you can also pay $7.50 per hour to use the umbrellas and recliners that are provided).

After our swim, we left the beach and hit the cobblestone streets again…turning down any alley, road, or pathway that looked interesting. It was awesome covering so much ground and seeing the stone walls fly past on both sides. When we’d had enough, we turned in our bikes and caught a metro back to the hotel to shower.

For our final evening, we went back to Aubree’s favorite area, La Rambla. This is a big tourist area full of people, vendors, performers, restaurants, shops…all the things Aubree loves. We found a candy store and Aubs had a heyday picking out an assortment of candy to take home to give Mikayla and Curtis a taste of Barcelona sweets.

We watched the street performers again. We have seen some pretty interesting attempts at a donation while we’ve been here. A man sitting on a toilet, Michael Jackson, Jack Sparrow, the monster from Alien, mimes, musicians, clowns…you name it. They really go all out with their artistic and creative talents and most would gather fairly large crowds of people watching their entertainment. My favorite was a guy who had made himself up to look like he was riding a bicycle really fast, yet he was totally motionless. Aubree really liked the Edward Scissorhands guy.

Some of the artistic talent is just amazing. We watched a man and woman create beautiful paintings using spray-paint. Spray-paint! Who could have imagined? But considering the fancy graffiti that covered the subways and fences around the city, I should have known somebody would master it and turn it into an advanced art. We watched the lady use cans of spray-paint to transform a blank piece of paper into a brilliant colorful image from a futuristic world. I recorded a portion of the process and regret that I stopped the camera partway through. I should have recorded the whole process. She was amazing!

For our final night we enjoyed a traditional dish of paella. I got the seafood..YUM! It was the ideal way to finish off a super fun day. Our table was right out in the street where we could hear the city noises around us (traffic, laughing, people coming and going, music, sirens…) and we sat for quite a while talking and enjoying the evening.  After dinner, I had just enough left so Aubs could get one last Gelato…it took every last cent I had. Then we headed back to the hotel, packed up, and hit the sack knowing that tomorrow we had a long day of travel ahead of us.

And just like that, our trip was over. When Sandi and I come to Barcelona, I will make sure to take a day trip down to Sitges, visit the Montserrat mountains, and book a tour through the inside of the La Sagrada Familia cathedral. There are just too many places in the world to see. I don’t know how I’m going to get to them all now. I wouldn’t have even put Italy and Spain on my list if it wasn’t for Aubree because there are too many places I want to see in Africa. I’d even like to get back to Ireland again someday. I’m supposed to be able to visit places, check them off the list, and move on…not absolutely fall in love with them and want to come back again! I have enough places that are calling me back!

Tomorrow we’ll travel home. We’ll start our day at 5:30am and arrive home at 8am the next day (Barcelona time). It’s going to be a long day. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Continue to Day 12…

We walked all over Barcelona today. I started a little earlier than Aubs because she wasn’t ready to wake up when I did. I got ready and went out looking for somewhere I could some breakfast to bring back but at 7am on a Sunday morning there wasn’t a whole lot open. I bought some snacks and on my way back to the room, checked with the front desk at the hotel to find out how the metro system worked. After the long walk we took last night I knew hoofing it around all day wouldn’t get us to all the places we wanted to see.

The subways in Barcelona are excellent. Clean, easy, and they have AC! You can get anywhere and the various passes they offer make it extremely affordable. We could have stayed further out at a nicer place, which would have saved a few bucks and it wouldn’t have been less inconvenient. Aubs got ready and we took the subway down to the waterfront and decided to go see the castle on the top of Montjuic hill. My buddy Greg had told me to go see the monestary called Montserrat, but I messed up and we went to Montjuic instead, DOH! Another to do when I come back with Sandi.

There are gondolas rides up the hill (actually it was more than a hill but not quite a mountain…a hilltain), which sounded fun, so we started walking through town trying to find a place we could get on them. We ended up walking a good 2 miles, and most of it was up. The route we’d taken took us to the second stop, almost near the top, so we missed out on riding up the worst part of the hike. It actually wouldn’t have been a bad walk at all if not for the heat and humidity.  Even though it wasn’t quite as hot as it had been in Italy, my back was still soaked when I took off my backpack to sit down and grossed Aubree out.

Up on top of the castle we had a great view of the city and harbor. There were huge cannons around the outside of the castle walls to protect the city (but from what I understand, they were used more times on the city than against enemies). It was pretty cool but I’m not sure if it was worth a half day and the 2 pints of sweat it took to get there. But, like I said, I had intended to go to Montserrat, which would have taken a full day as I understand.

We took a bus back down into town and Aubree got some directions to the mall, which was down by the waterfront. Another bus and more walking. We trekked another two miles looking for the mall. At one point Aubree gave up and said to forget it. We had lunch, cooled off a bit, and then she figured it out. We had to walk over by the Imax theater instead of being by the beaches. Aubs wasn’t to keen on going to the beaches, I tried unsuccessfully to talk her in to it but her mind was set on the mall. We walked around the jetty to the other jetty and were both a little cranky by the time we finally made it. But then Aubree was at the mall, where life is always good for a teenage girl, and I was able to sit in a shady air conditioned building. I was just happy to sit for however long she wanted to look around and did some journaling.

Somewhere around us was a monument where Columbus set sail nearly 500 years ago. I couldn’t find it though. Plus the sun did a good job of convincing me that I’d be okay if I missed this one and we went back into town where we could walk in the shade of the tall buildings.

We walked through some of the same places we’d seen the night before, primarily through the gothic section. I loved the old stone buildings and narrow streets. Some of the alleys were only four feet wide and looking up, the buildings rose many stories and leaned in and out from being hundreds of years old (from medieval and roman eras). It was almost like they were slowly swallowing up the alleys between them.

People vanished into doorways that were hidden in the shadows of what felt more like a hallway to me than a road. Along one such tight cramped walkway I noticed two large doors open to our left. We poked our head in and it opened up into a fairly large cathedral. It seemed strange that such a huge church could be located in the middle of such dense ancient city. We walked through it, looking at the various statues and displays that had been created in honor of Christian historical figures (Christ, apostles, Mary…).

We walked, turning where it looked interesting and weaved our way through town. Then we took the metro across town to the Sagrade Familia. This was amazing. A massive church that has been under construction since 1882 and not expected to be completed until 2026 (they are trying to finish it by the 100th anniversary of the death of it’s architect, Antoni Gaudi). I didn’t know much about it before we saw and and at first thought that it was being restored (because of all the scaffolding and work going on in the area).  It blows me away to think that Gaudi worked on this project for 40 years and completely devoted the final 15 years of his life to it..and even then it was still a hundred years away from being finished.  The new parts of the building are bright, almost colorful because of the fresh rock placed in recent years which provides a stark contrast to the gray, aged rock next to it. Amazing! Imagine a massive cathedral built by hand where ornate sculpture adorns every spire, doorway, window, and wall. It was amazing. Unfortunately, you have to book in advance to see the interior…another to do for my next visit.

It was early evening, but it had been a long day. Plus, Aubree had to use the ladies room reeally bad and we couldn’t find one (she prob won’t want me to mention that, so…ignore that last sentence). Plus she had bought some hair dye so she could have a new look when we stepped off the plane back home and wanted to get that project finished up (she had to get one of the maids to help her read the directions). We went back to the Hotel and Aubs snapped a picture of us in the mirror on the elevator (another of the few shots of us together on the trip). We started getting stuff ready for the trip home, did some journal writing, and Aubree went through all the memoirs and presents she’d purchased on the trip.

I still wanted to go to the beach but it wasn’t high on Aubree’s list. Suddenly, it came to me. I casually mentioned that she’d prob get quite a nice tan if we went to the beach, and it worked. The beach became our top destination for tomorrow.  We logged at least 10 miles of walking today and wanted to rent bicycles tomorrow but didn’t know where. We’d asked earlier in the day and found out the ones we saw all around town were only for citizens of Barcelona, not tourists. So we planned out our last day in Europe: the beach, an attempt at bicycles, one last jaunt down Las Ramblas, and a nice dinner to finish it off. It’s hard to believe our trip is almost over and we only have one more day.

Continue to Day 11…

Waking up on the sidewalk in a small French town isn’t the best way to start a new day. I was just happy daylight was around the corner. Domile and her friends packed up their bags, we all said a round of ‘good mornings,’ and then went into the train station. After looking at the boards, Domile laughed and said, “why did you let us get up so early, our train doesn’t leave for a couple hours!”

So Domile and Kernius played cards, I wrote in my journal, and everyone else crashed. We still weren’t sure how we’d get to Barcelona. We decided to try and catch a train across the border and then give it a shot from the Spanish side. The plan worked. Our four minute ride into Spain pulled in just as a train was departing to Barcelona. In fact we almost missed it because not everyone had cleared customs and I didn’t want to leave unless we all were able to get on. It just didn’t seem right to abandon them. But we all made it and were all on our way, finally. We were a short two hours away from our final destination!

During one of the stops, three people went running out next to our carriage and snapped pictures like crazy of the train. They were really excited. Aubs and I figured they must have been taking pictures of their artwork, the trains were covered in graffiti…and actually, most of it looked pretty cool.

We arrived in Barcelona and we said our goodbyes and went different ways. Well, we’d made it, but now what? We went out into the street and started walking. I saw an informational booth and asked for the nearest Internet Cafe. It was close. We each bought an hour of time and I got on Expedia and found a Hotel nice and close. We were tired, dirty, stinky (at least I was), and had spent the night on the streets. I didn’t want to have to walk very far even if it meant I paid a bit more.

I’d looked at the Google Satellite image and knew were the hotel was…so we headed out. But on the way I asked the info booth lady and she pointed me in a different direction. A little further away but not by much. But then we couldn’t find the Hotel, anywhere. We asked again and a man pointed down the road and said ‘10 or so blocks.” Somewhat grumpy for paying extra when I thought it was  close, we dragged our luggage 10 or so blocks to find nothing. Absolutely nothing. And it was hot. And humid. We retraced our steps to the start of the street and I went into a hotel and asked for help. My face was dripping from every pore, I think she felt bad for me because she was ultra nice. She said tons of people come in looking for that Hotel and it’s tricky because there is actually a little patch of street over and up two blocks with the same name. Just about where I was originally headed…argh!

We found our Hotel, checked in, and I took one of the expensive cokes out of the mini-bar. I didn’t care how much it cost, I needed something wet and cold. It was only about noon, lots of day left. Aubs showered first and by the time I cleaned up, she was zonked. I hated to spend our time in Barcelona sleeping, but yesterday was just too draining and it sounded like the perfect plan.

We did get out for a nice evening stroll that ended up being a five mile walk through town. We went the waterfront where there was a flea market. Then up through La Rambla where we watched the street performers and Aubree shopped at the vendor stands for a few more presents. We cut through to the Gothic section where old stone buildings towered over the narrow alleyways. We saw several old cathedrals, including one of Gaudi’s. We moved pretty fast knowing we’d be back tomorrow and then we’d take pictures and take the time to truly appreciate everything. The truth was, I still felt somewhat groggy from the long day yesterday and was just trying to keep myself awake so I could get a good nights sleep. It wasn’t much of a day, but then, after that long day yesterday we needed a day to recover. It got dark and we bee-lined back to the hotel where I don’t even remember hitting the pillow.

Continue to Day 10…

We had to change our plans today. Instead of exploring Torino we had to start early for Barcelona because we couldn’t book a train straight through. They ticket agent suggested we go to Nice and book from there. We started traveling at 6:30 in the morning, too early for the free breakfast, and caught a bus to the train station. Little did we know that our travel day would not end until 11pm…and we would not reach Barcelona.

Our first train, to Ventimiglia, climbed up through the Alps. It was gorgeous. Everything was thick and green except where high granite peaks and cliffs cut through the vegetation. We passed over old stone bridges, through tunnels, and saw many little towns that either nestled in the deep valleys or hugged the side of the mountains. I wish we could have stopped and explored along the way because we chugged through some really neat places…and all I could do was shoot pictures through the horribly cloudy windows.

The station in Ventimiglia was hot and crowded. The train we had planned on taking had been cancelled and we weren’t the only ones displaced. We waited in line for close to an hour.  It wasn’t just the slow moving line and the stress of our unknown journey ahead that made it tough, the heat and humidity had me soaked and dripping. I looked up temperatures later and several days during our trip it may of the days broke records. Most of the time it was mid 90’s and very high (sometimes 100%) humidity. I almost needed a snorkel to breath correctly. It felt like we’d won the lottery when we finally walked up to the ticket window and I expected people to cheer and congratulate us for our accomplishment…but nobody did. I took a chance and asked for a booking to Barcelona. No dice. She told us to go to Marseille and try there. To get there we had to catch a train to Nice and then another to Marseille.

We stood on the packed landing and waited for our train. When it pulled up, it just as packed as the landing and we pushed forward with the other passengers like sardines about to be canned (sardines with luggage). Standing room only. At least we were all sweaty, it made it easier for everyone to slip in to the carriage.

We pulled out and onto the coast, it was gorgeous. I was stuck in the middle and kept straining to see through the bouncing heads at the French Riviera outside. We passed through Monaco and several people got off…enough that Aubs and I were able to sit down, although not together. For the rest of the trip to Nice I had a nice view of ritzy beach homes, quaint beaches, and thousands of other places I’d rather be than sitting than on a muggy train.

We arrived in Nice and a train was boarding for Marseille. I asked around until I found somebody who spoke English found out we needed a reservation for it. Aubree stayed with our luggage while I ran into the station to purchase tickets. The line for the counter was long, as normal, so I went to the automated machines that had been so convenient in Italy. I’m sure they would have been convenient too, had I been able to read French. Unlike the Italian machines, these ones did not have an English option. I tried without luck for several minutes, guessing at the choices, before I gave up and ran back to Aubree. The train was making noises…it wanted to leave. I found an English speaker holding a clipboard and asked him if there was any way we could ride this train without a reservation. He told us to talk to the guy in the purple shirt who was the Train Conductor or something, I didn’t quite follow what he said.

So began my frantic search for the guy in the purple shirt. I ran up and down the terminal. It felt almost comical, something you’d see Steve Martin doing in a comedy, “Excuse me, have you seen the man in the Purple shirt…?” I ran all the way to the end of the train, dripping a trail of sweat behind me. Just when I was  about to give up, I saw a guy in a purple shirt. But he looked like a Tourist and I didn’t think he was the right guy. But I had to try.

I asked if he spoke English, he did. I didn’t ask if he was the guy in the purple shirt, that would be rather silly, but I did tell him I was told to find a guy in a purple shirt who could help us get a train to Marseille. He said, “yup, that’s me.” What a relief. He told us not to take his train but to get the next one over that would take us straight to Marseille and we wouldn’t even need a reservation. Hallelujah. One step closer.

Once the train got rolling and the AC kicked in, I relaxed. This was a nice comfortable train and although it was warm, it wasn’t hot. We were on our way. After several stops a couple sat next to us and we started talking. They were from Northern France and heading home from their two month long vacation (that’s how long I needed!). He was in IT and we talked about the industry, rock climbing, motorcycles, and life in general. When we arrived in Nice, we all had nice cold $5 sodas and he helped me work the machines to see if we could get tickets to Barcelona. No luck. “Looks like you are stuck in Marseille,” he said.

Our new friends caught their train and left us alone. We waited in line at the ticket counter, again, just to check all our options. Our options were limited. There were no available routes to Barcelona today or tomorrow. Our best bet was to go to the France/Spain border. He told us to go Narbonne and then catch the train to Cerbere on the Spain border.

So we had a dilemma. Should we find a place in Marseille or take our chances in Cerbere? One way or another we had to get to Barcelona to fly home in 3 days, although we did decide we could go to Brussels and catch a connecting flight there. We decided we’d better focus on getting to Barcelona. We had an hour before the train left so Aubs stayed with our luggage and I ran into town and bought us a couple of Panini’s, a jug of cold water, and some pastries. That three block run saved me at least $20 from the train station prices and the food was better.

It was a long ride to Narbonne and fatigue wrapped it’s bony fingers around me. But I couldn’t fall asleep and miss our stop, so I fought to keep myself awake. When we changed trains, somewhere around 9pm, I realized we were running out of day. The train to Cerbere was almost empty. It was just us and some rough looking kid listening to some funky sounding Middle Eastern music on the speaker of his cell phone. It sounded like an old AM radio in a ‘65 Ford Truck that had somehow tuned into ‘radio Pakistani 1410.’ A real irritating sound when 98% of your brain is already sleeping. By now I was wishing we had just found a place in Marseille. I was a zombie. At least Cerebere was the end of the line for this train and if I did fall asleep I wouldn’t miss our stop.

The little towns we passed looked inviting, especially in the moonlight. Resorts with beaches, hotels, sailboats, old French buildings…I just hoped that we could find a place to sleep once we reached Cerbere. My brother had said you can sleep in the train stations, so that was my backup plan.

We arrived somewhere close to 11pm and with groggy minds and bloodshot eyes walked into the train station to check the boards. Nothing. This was as far as we’d make it for the night. I looked outside and saw dark streets. I had no idea which way to walk to town and at 11pm at night, didn’t really fancy the idea of walking into the unknown. I looked around the station. It wasn’t very big, especially compared to the other train stations we had been through. It was fully enclosed but the benches had arm rests on them, no sleeping on them. The floor was dirty. About this time Aubree said, “What we gonna do?”  …hmmm, good question.

I heard a girl say Barcelona and noticed four kids (well, not really kids as they were just a couple years older than Aubree) talking. Strange how college students are now kids to me. I walked up to the girl and asked if she spoke English, which she did. They were also trying to get to Barcelona and stranded. I asked what they were going to do and she said probably sleep here in the terminal. They had backpacks and sleeping bags and had taken a break from their University studies in Lithuania to explore Europe.

“Hey, are you from the United States?” I turned around to see a tall smiling face. “I haven’t heard English in forever,” he said.

Tony, as it turns out, was from Miami and a month into his backpacking trip alone through Europe. He was also stranded trying to get to Barcelona. The seven of us were the only ones in the station by now. Aubree started chatting with Domile (the girl I had spoken to) and I chatted with Tony. The Lithuanians were setting up for the night just as security to came through and told us we had to leave because they were closing the station for the night. I asked Domile what they were going to do and she said they didn’t know but they were concerned about some of the homeless people outside. I suggested we all stick together and everyone seemed to agree that was a good idea.

We all went out and decided to sleep in the sidewalk. There was 3 or so homeless looking people already sleeping there and they made room for us. Domile and Kernius gave Aubree and I a ground cloth to use, which was very kind of them. I hooked our luggage together with the backpack straps so somebody couldn’t grab one and run off, and we arranged them by our heads and laid down on the sidewalk. I let Aubs use the ground cloth but was able to use a part of it for my legs. I had shorts on so I put my coat across my legs and laid down on the concrete and rested my head on my bags. This wasn’t so bad.

We talked with Tony and Domile for several hours. It was fun to hear their stories. Tony (mid 20’s or so) had quit his job and had been back backpacking around Europe for a month or two. He used his iPhone to find hotels and hostels and went wherever his heart desired. He was on his way to the world’s largest annual food fight in Valencia. Our Lithuanian friends had also been on the road a month or so but rather than stay in Hotels, they packed sleeping bags and slept in parks, bus stations, beaches…wherever they could. She said they had very little money and used a camp stove and packed their own food, true urban camping. I hadn’t realized it was possible! They left their bags the train stations when they wanted to explore places. She said there was only one time when the police had come by and told them they would have to move, but it was morning and the police were really nice about it.

I was laying down and Aubree was sitting up talking. I have to say, she had the biggest smile on her face talking to Domile and hearing about her adventures. I could see her mind working…taking notes and planning for some future adventure with her own college friends. It was a nice evening. The sky was clear, it wasn’t too hot, I wasn’t on a train anymore…

We finally went to sleep…well, tried to. It was a long night. I’d wake up at the slightest noise and look around to make sure we were safe. Somebody would walk past us every once in a while and I’d watch them like a hawk. I’m sure the cement actually got harder as the night rolled on (it must have been fresh cement…just in the process of setting) and I rolled around every few minutes trying to get comfortable. But the worst was when the wind kicked in and I got cold. It would be this night that finally cooled off! I slept with my arms in my short sleeve shirt for a while, then finally dug out my only long sleeve shirt out of my bag. That helped, but I was still cold. Just before the sun came up I dug into my pack, opened my dirty clothes bag, got and put on my levis, and then put my coat on (instead of using it as a blanket over my legs). That kept me warm…I don’t know why I didn’t just do it hours earlier. Yes I do, I didn’t want to make noise and wake everyone else up. But that’s a dumb reason to be cold all night. Aubree did the same thing, slowly put on more clothes as the night progressed.

Continue to Day 9….

When our night sleeping in the brick oven was over and the sun came up, it cooled off a little. What is the science behind that? Today was supposed to be our day to sleep in because our train didn’t leave until noon, but it was just too hot. Taking a nice cool shower sounded too good so we got up earlier than planned and were able to spend more time walking through Venice.

We hit the shops again. I told Aubs I wanted to find a nice mask and we went to the shop we liked most. Their masks were beautiful and they were one of the only shops that didn’t have a “Thou shalt not touch” sign posted. They’d let us try them on and take pictures…so I wanted to give them our business. I found a gorgeous golden one that I think Sandi will like and will look great somewhere on the wall at home. I just needed to get it home in once piece.

We picked up some food at the grocery store, breakfast and then lunch on the train. We had a fairly long journey today through Verona, Milan, and onto Torino. Torino (Turin) is famous for the shroud of Turin, 2006 Winter Olympics, and most important…where solid chocolate was invented 300 years ago. Aubree happens to be a big fan of chocolate and there are several chocolate factories and chocolate museums offering more chocolate and chocolate history than even the biggest chocolate fan can handle (for all you women out there, this sentence uses the word chocolate 8 times…it’s actually dripping with dark delicious chocolate from Italy for your pleasure and enjoyment). So yes, Torino is the Mecca of the Chocoholic.

Once our train was underway I asked the couple across the isle to take a picture of us, we needed at least one together. They spoke English and we started up a conversation that lasted several hours until we arrived in Milan and had to change trains. They had grown up in Iran and moved to Canada four years ago to attend University. It was fascinating to talk to them and their stories reminded me of Persepolis. They described how strict the government is and how most people they know live a double life. In public they pretend to adhere to the strict religious doctrine (so they won’t get arrested), but behind closed doors their families and friends laughed, partied, listened to music, and broke rules that would have gotten them arrested.

It was humbling to hear first hand about growing up during the fierce wars with Iraq, the recent election, and current political unrest. They talked about how once you get arrested you can count on being raped in prison and that it was one of the worst things going on right now in the country. They have endured much and although they left Iran, still worry about friends and family living there. He also said the current government doesn’t seem to want educated people in the country. If you are educated, they make it really easy to leave. I suppose an uneducated population is much easier to control.

As we arrived in Torino and I checked our maps and I realized my Google map was wrong. I I had no clue where our hotel was located. We also didn’t have plans finalized for tomorrow. Ideally I had wanted to book a night train to Barcelona, which would give us tomorrow to explore Torino. So our priorities were to book our train, find our hotel, and then book a hotel in Barcelona (in that order).

It sounded easy, but it wasn’t. While we waited in a long line to book our tickets, I tried to ask for some help with our hotel but unlike the other places we had visited, it was apparent not many people here spoke English. The man that finally helped us spoke decent English but we had to speak slow and I wasn’t sure everything was being communicated correctly. He said it was very far, told us to take bus 1 and get off by the hospital. He also pointed out the general direction.

When we finally worked our way to the front of the line we ran into the same thing, very little English and more bad news. All the trains were full and we could not get a booking to Barcelona. He printed out a schedule for us that required us to start early in the morning and take regional trains to Nice where we would try again to book to Barcelona.

Somewhat discouraged, we walked out of the station and dragged our luggage to the street. I saw no buses, no signs. But even if there was, I wasn’t sure how we’d know where to get off. And I didn’t know how to pay for the ride. So we just started walking in the direction he’d indicated and looked for an Internet Cafe. If we could just find that, I could get on Google and figure it out.

After several blocks, we found one. We went inside and I asked if they spoke English…no answer. I pointed to a computer and said “Internet?” They shook their head, No. This went on for several minutes. For whatever reason we could not use their computers. I took out my Expedia printout of the hotel and pointed to the address. A nice guy tried to help us but without a common language between us, it didn’t work. He grabbed another guy who dragged us out the door and to the corner. He spoke a bit of English and pointed, “Bus 18. One Eight…One eight…Eighteen.” He must have said “One Eight” twenty times, trying to make sure we understood. We thanked him and started in a new direction looking for a new bus.

Up until now I had only been frustrated. But I started to feel nervous; a strange town, nobody able to help us, our hotel far away and no real idea on how to get there…and on top of that, it seemed like people were watching us. It was common to see people dragging luggage through town in the other places. But now our wheelied and backpacking friends were nowhere to be seen. It was just us and the locals watching us.

I felt desperate and started asking friendly looking people if they spoke English. No luck. I started asking unfriendly people…still no luck. I went into a pharmacy and asked around and finally found a guy who spoke a little English. He wasn’t sure where our hotel was but took my paper and asked around. He came back and pointed down the road, “very far.” It seems that’s was the help I was going to get.

As we were walking I thought, “wow, this is exactly what I was afraid of…being lost in a strange town where nobody speaks English…I’m right in the middle of one of my big fears.” I actually thought that was pretty cool and it made me smile because knew somehow we’d get through it. I didn’t know how, but I knew we would. But it was still stressful walking further away from the one thing I did know (the train station) and deeper into the abyss. And worse, I was dragging my 17 year old daughter through it too.

Then I saw the answer. A taxi. Normally I don’t spend money on cabs, I’d rather walk if it’s close enough or take public transportation. The driver didn’t speak English but I held up the address and asked, “how much.” That didn’t work so I did the universal sign of money by rubbing my fingers together. He got it, “Ten,” he said.

The ordeal was over. He drove us to the Hotel and we checked in. Aubs flicked on the TV and watched Two and A Half Men in Italian while I went down and talked to Franco, the front desk guy. He spoke decent English and in 20 minutes the feeling of being in a strange city was gone. He ran me through the buses, how to use them, gave me a map, and even sold me some bus passes. We talked sports (he knew a ton about American Football and Basketball) and had a fun chat. Now this strange town had a friend too!

Aubs and I headed out for the evening. It was too late to try and visit a castle or chocolate factory, but we hoped on a bus and went north. We drove through the same roads that had tormented us earlier and it amazed me that twenty minutes with Franco had completely changed my perception and attitude. We walked around, confident now, looking at all the old buildings and had Gelato (which Aubree said was the best in all Italy so far). Then back to the hotel.

Franco let me spend a few minutes on the computer to let Sandi know we’d made it safe while he took care of some other business. While I was sitting there behind the front desk, a few people came by to drop off their keys and I smiled, said thanks, and and put them in the box. I got a few strange looks, something like ‘Why is an American guy working in Torino?’ My 3 years of working at hotels during college paid off.

Tomorrow will be an interesting day. We’ll try and get to Barcelona. We have no hotel lined up and aren’t even sure if we can make it there. And to make it worse, we have to leave early and so won’t get to spend any time in Torino. We’ll even miss the free hotel breakfast because it doesn’t start until 7am. But, I’m glad I could push my comfort zone out a bit, walking around lost in a strange town where I don’t speak the language was a good experience and I wouldn’t trade it.

Continue to Day 8…

My brother warned us about visiting Venice in August. I tried to talk Aubree out of it but she said it was the whole reason she wanted to come to Italy, so we skipped the expensive breakfast and caught an early train west.

We changed trains in Florence, a city I wish we could have explored if we had more time. Our train rides in and out didn’t offer much in the way of views so someday I’ll have to get back to Florence too see the most famous sculpture in the world, David. Out of Florence was passed through a lot of green hills, mountains, tunnels, and little towns. The ride was beautiful. It made me wish I had a sporty car or motorcycle so we could explore all the narrow windy roads and villages.

Eventually we hit the ocean and before long had water on both sides of us as we crossed the bridge to Venice. Just like the tower of Pisa, the moment I saw Venice I loved it. Canals, boats, bridges, buildings four stories high made from ancient looking bricks…despite the muggy heat, it had a cozy feel to it. Our Bed and Breakfast wasn’t far, and we walked through the shops and tourist with our luggage clackety clacking behind us. It was fun to walk past the shops full of dazzling masks, Venetian glass decorations, fruit markets, and all manner of places begging to suck my bank account dry.

It took a while to find our B&B. We passed the narrow alley the first time and had to backtrack. We bought some fruit cups and I’d hoped to ask the vendor for some directions but he didn’t speak English and raced off to arrange his peaches before I could try. I walked into a restaurant and found some help. It turns out we were standing right next to the alley we needed. We walked down it and found the door with a sign taped above the bell, “Please call this number for check in.”

Well, we had no phone. We rang the bell for about ten minutes without luck before I decided to leave Aubree in the alley with our bags and go find a public phone. It didn’t take long to find one, but at 60 cents a minute they better not put me on hold. They didn’t put me on hold because they didn’t even answer the bloody thing. I called several times, returned to Aubree and waited, rang the door bell, went back and called, back to aubs, door bell, phone, alley, door bell…for over an hour before they finally answered. In basic English I managed to let them know we were standing at the front door. She said, 15 minutes.

I went back to Aubree and we waited out the last 20 minutes or so before a real nice gal showed up and let us in. We hauled our luggage up 4 flights of stairs and found out we were sleeping in a large brick oven that had been converted into a bedroom. No AC. So that’s why that last time I looked I actually found affordable rooms in Venice…I’d forgot to check the “AC” filter option on Expedia. It was more of a hostel than a B&B. Four rooms, two bathrooms, and a lobby area. Nobody lived there permanently and there was no kitchen.

But it was decent. It felt authentic. We quickly explored and looked out the shuttered windows to the tiled rooftops below. I took off my shirt and stood in front of the fan and noticed that the breakfast part of "Bed and Breakfast” was already set out for us. 2 small cardboard boxes of juice, a few stale cookies, and a couple croissants in a wrapper that looked a lot like the day old Dolly Madison fruit pie’s my mom used to buy us. Another breakfast strike out. We had really been spoiled with that first hotel in Rome.

We went out for a stroll and through numerous shops and bought several presents. The masks were amazing, ornate, elaborate, and glamorous. There were so many cool looking masks and I wished I had thousands of dollars to buy presents for all my friends and family. But I did decide that I’d buy a real nice mask for Sandi and I to put in the house . It would be the one big thing I bought on the trip. There are two reasons for minimal purchases. First, whatever I bought I had to haul around with me everywhere we went and, second, money. I’d rather collect photos and experiences to write in my travels than spend a lot of money on stuff. Like South Africa, I didn’t plan on buying much on this trip. But unlike South Africa, the stuff here was really expensive.

We stood on the bridges and watched boats sputter slowly through the narrow canals. We saw a few gondolas quietly drift past. It was a really fun evening. We went into a local grocery store and bought some snacks. Aubree loved drooling over the candy isle and gagging at the fresh seafood. I don’t think it would be the same for her if she ever had to miss either of those two events.

We took some time in a sweaty internet cafe to say hi to everyone at home and then found a nice place for dinner. We ate at the place of the guy who helped us find our Bed and Breakfast, which was conveniently right around the corner and had a yummy dinner. The lasagna was almost to die for, I loved it. It had a different taste to it and I had to try and pace myself so I didn’t scarf it down so fast (like I normally do with my dinner).

We sat on a table out in front of the restaurant and watched the crowds come and go as people explored the shops and city streets. Aubree looked so grown up, she’s not my kid anymore. She’s a young independent beautiful woman, smart and eager to start life on her own. We talked about relationships, life, depression, difficulties…it was a pleasant evening with my eldest child. I think that I barely caught the window of opportunity to take this trip with her. I’m pretty sure she’ll travel with her friends or boyfriend next time. She’s not my little girl anymore and although she still calls me daddy (and I hope that never changes), I play a different role in her life now. She doesn’t look to me for direction like she used to. In fact, it’s better for me most of the time to keep my opinions to myself! She is making her own choices, forging her own life, and seeking true independence.

It’s a tough transition at times, for both of us. Sad and painful in some ways but sweet and endearing in others. She’ll always be my daughter but she’s not under my wing anymore. She’s got her own wings spread wide open and is ready to jump from the nest. It’s wonderful to see the young woman she has become and know that she offers so much to the world because of her unique personality and talents.

We took an evening walk after dinner and tried thimble’s worth of a peachy liqueur that was being sampled by one of the shops. You won’t see that at Costco! It was dark and we stood on the big bridge in front of the train station and watched the boats coming and going in one of the larger canals before we went back to the brick oven. It was a long hot night. I felt drops of sweat roll off my face and chest. At one point I remember Aubs getting up and standing in front of the open window to try and cool down, but it was hot everywhere. That didn’t even help. Later she asked me if I had to do the hike or that night again, which would it be. That’s a tough one.

Continue to Day 7…

I always look for a hotels with a free breakfast. Most of the time they don’t cost more and it saves money on food. Eat a good breakfast, snack throughout the day (jerky and trail mix from Costco works good), and you can get away with only buying one meal a day (or less). Normally it works out pretty good…but not at the Monastery.

We ate our breakfast in the peaceful courtyard but then as we were heading out were informed our room had been charged $24 ($12 each). Apparently the Expedia line that said “all our guests enjoy a free complimentary breakfast” didn’t apply to us. I pleaded my case and lost. We had a “no breakfast room,” although nothing specified that on my reservation. I asked for a full detailed receipt knowing this fight was not over. If you tell me I’m getting a free breakfast, one way or another I’m getting a free breakfast. (After I returned home I took up the fight with Expedia and was first told they would not issue a refund but after requesting to speak to a manager, my request was granted.)

But even with the eventual refund, there were still indirect costs. We delayed our departure until after 7:00 when breakfast was served and because of that, missed the Regional train that would would have been free on our prepaid rail pass. Instead we had to buy reservations on another line which cost $30. I didn’t plan that well and beat myself up about it for a good 15 minutes on the train to the Cinque Terre region.

In preparing for our trip, today’s adventure is what I was most excited to see. Five small towns carved into a mountain that plunges into the Mediterranean. The whole area protected as a national park each town connected by a hiking trail along the rocky coast.

So after I stopped stressing about the breakfast costs, I enjoyed the train ride out of the flat brown world into lush green mountains. It was a pretty ride, we passed several large cathedrals or castles built high up on the tops of the hills and saw quaint looking beach towns along the ocean.

Speaking of trains, the European Rail system is well designed and you can get anywhere. We bought a 3 country 5 day pass (many varieties are available but must be purchased before you travel to Europe), which meant we got unlimited travel in Italy, France, and Spain for any 5 days we chose. Some of the trains require a reservation, which you pay extra for, but the Regional ones do not. With the pass, you have paid for your ticket but not for a reservation if it is required. My guess is that it’s a way for the nicer rail lines to participate in the program and receive a bit more compensation because their services are better. They are nicer and you are guaranteed a seat (we rode on a few “free” ones when there was standing room only). But it cost us an additional $15 per segment to travel on the non-Regional lines.

In our case, I’m not sure the rail pass saved us money. The trains in Italy are really cheap to buy directly from the automated machines, especially if you stick to the regional line. That isn’t the case in other countries and I think the rail pass makes total sense if you have several long trips you are going to take through multiple European countries.

We arrived in Le Spezia and then hopped on a regional train to the first little town, Riomaggiore. Each of the towns was similar; bright colored buildings hugging the mountain, narrow cobblestone streets weaving through tourist shops and restaurants, and tiny alleys (maybe 4 feet wide) that twisted, climbed, and carved through the buildings up the mountainside. The little towns were full of the free vibrant life of vacationers (and the prices that accompany it). Most of the towns started up high on the mountain and ended at the ocean where people were diving from the rocks and swimming in the clear teal water. I had tried to get a room in one of the towns but waited too long to book and then nothing was available. When I go back with Sandi, I won’t make that same mistake.

The first hike (from Riomaggiore to Manarola) is not to be missed. It’s short, easy, and drop dead gorgeous. It follows the cliff a good 30 or 40 feet above the ocean and there are frequent places where a steep stairway down will take you to a place where you can swim or lay out on the rocks. There are tunnels with windows at several points built right into the cliff. At points you can look North and see each of the next 4 towns waiting along the coastline. This section is often referred to as Lovers Lane and people cement their love by locking a padlock to the fence or guard rails along the route. Poor Aubs had to make the walk with her old man while she daydreamed about her boyfriend six thousand miles away…

The second hike was a little longer (to Corniglia) but at least it was level. By now the sun was doing it’s job and trying to slowly kills us…and succeeding. So we took a break and I shed my shirt, shoes, and backpack and dove from the black rocks into the clear water. The word refreshing falls way short of describing how wonderful it felt to cool my overheated body. I swam, dove to the bottom, and while floating on my back decided I was enjoying one of the best moments of my life (not counting sentimental moments like birth of children, family, wedding, etc.). Aubs was good enough to stay on land reading and keep our stuff secure while I had all the fun. Actually, she was hot, tired, and not having nearly as fun as I was. But she knew I was excited about this part of the trip and did a decent job of pushing forward so I could see it all.

Just before Corniglia we found a lady selling jewelry and this rekindled the passion in Aubs that had been burned away by the sun. We bought several presents and Aubs got a couple nice pieces for herself. I need to remember that shopping is always fun for her, no matter how tired, hot, or miserable she is.

The Rick Steve’s Guide said the next hike was a rough one, so rather than kill ourselves in the heat we took the train to Vernazza. We walked through town, saw the crowded beach, and then hiked up to start on the trail to Monterosso. According to the Guide, this one had lots of waterfalls and swimming holes, perfect! I filled up an extra water bottle (we had bought and drank a cold bottle at the end of the last hike) and climbed through the back alleys and stairs to the trailhead. Just before we left town, there was a sign warning that the trail was long, strenuous, and shouldn’t be attempted mid-day. Not only was it mid-day, it was a really hot mid-day. But we could swim, right? Take it slow, enjoy it…

Aubs didn’t share my enthusiasm and at first, flat out refused. I pushed back but didn’t think think I’d could change her mind even if there was a mall waiting at the end. I gave up and started back down to town. Then she stopped me and said, fine, lets just do it.

The sign was right and Rick Steve’s was wrong. There were no waterfalls. No swimming. The majority of the hike was stairs way up into the wine country, then back down, then back up again. It was brutal, exhausting, grueling, and torturous (although there views were incredible). My shirt was soaked, wring it out and watch it drip with sweat soaking.  I could hear my heart pounding in my head. My skin felt like it was on fire and my legs burned from the endless steps. I would round a corner hoping to see level ground only to see more steps up the mountain. Far below the cliffs was the ocean. It was tempting to just run and jump and hope for the best. Aubree, a little mad that we were doing it in the first place, had hiked on ahead and I didn’t see her until almost the end. I tried to catch up with her cause I had all the water and figured she must be dead thirsty, but I couldn’t do it. As I peaked the summit, I was probably taking one step every ten seconds because I was so exhausted.

The way down was just as hard, mainly because by now my legs were a a bit wobbly and the stairs dropped steep and narrow. Just as I neared the bottom I heard a yell from behind me, “Dad!” Apparently, I had been ahead of Aubree and moving fast trying to catch her…staying ahead instead of catching up. I was too speedy and she couldn’t catch me! And she was exhausted, nearly crawling on the ground for lack of water. Okay, that’s not true. I wish I was in that good of shape. The truth is she’d taken some wrong turns and done some extra hiking on side trails and had to back track, that’s how I got ahead. And even with the extra hiking she was in better shape than me. But she did want water and I gladly shared.

She ran off ahead again and said she’d meet me in the ocean. When I rounded that last turn and saw the beach I felt like I was seeing the pearly gates of heaven. Aubree wasn’t in the water yet, her swimming suit was in the backpack…which, by the way, I hauled over that mountain thank-you-very-much. She took her suit and went to find a restroom and I bee-lined for the water before my skin burst into flames. I carefully stepped through the bikinis and topless women sprawled all over the beach…gotta love European beaches. But it wasn’t even a distraction, I was too hot. I dropped my pack, shoes, shirt, and socks into the sand near the water and stepped in. Steam came up and the water sizzled around me like when a hot iron is dunked into a pot. At least I think it did. It felt sooooo good. I had to sit backwards, looking at the beach (to watch my backpack of course….geez!) and with the water up to my neck I felt my body temperature plunging. It was heaven.

Aubs never found a restroom so didn’t get to swim, but we had a nice dinner at a Pizzeria and took the trains back to Pisa. From the train station we walked the long way home so she could pop online real quick.

Back at the hotel I peeled off my shoes and caressed my aching feet. My entire little toe was covered with a massive blister. I took a picture, but don’t worry, I won’t gross you out by posting it. I wouldn’t be surprised if we walked 15 miles today.

Continue to Day 6…