The most rewarding part about traveling to cities all across Europe? Doing it through the online organization of Couchsurfing (www.couchsurfing.com). CS functions as an global network in which people from all over the world create profiles citing their interests, couch availability, pictures, and for all the nervous mothers out there--security background checks!
This means that a person in Florence (me, let's say :) can search for someone with a free bed, couch, floor, or room, in Paris, Berlin, Buenos Aires or any place in the world on the CS website. Then follow up with an online request to a few people who seem interesting and are available for hosting, and wait for a response. If the person's able to host me, they send me a message with contact info and we plan on how and where we'll meet (usually at a train station or central part of the city). And wa-la! A home away from home in an unknown city!
Truly, my experiences traveling have been infinitely more interesting, authentic, and comfortable thanks to CS. Not only have I had free places to stay in cities across Europe, but I've had automatic friends--people who are proud of their home towns and want to take me to all of their favorite local places. And as you would expect, the types of people you find in a network like CS are generally very open, warmhearted, and excited to meet new people.
In an age somewhat deteriorated by fear and apathy towards our neighbors, or strangers that we have all too easily dismissed as x, y, or z...Surely, this type of program works to the advantage of the average person. Works to restore trust in the common stranger. Works to remind us that people all over the world long for cultural exchange and human connections. To me, this is thrilling.
Palermo, our first stop in Sicily, was where we met Ennio--couchsurfing emperor--with his royal empire estate to prove it.
"Parli Italiano o Inglese?" he asked me and Carolina.
"Italiano e bene," we responded probably all too confidently, as we were then plastered with a long line of explanations about our 5 star resort, solo in Italiano...
"Here's the bed, covers on the chest. Your big screen TV with over 500 DVDs of your choice (none of which you'll probably have time to watch, but it's nice to know they're there)."
We followed him into the next room, stretching to understand every word that we could.
"Here's a computer with internet, webcam, speakers, etc... Use it as you like. And don't worry, there's a high-speed connection. Another couch for relaxing. Refrigerator with drinks. Help yourself. Here's the bathroom, sink, etc. The water is hot for at least 2 showers in a row..."
Then he proceeded to tell us, at rapid racecar Italian speed, all of the best places for us to visit while he was at work, our eyes following his index finger along the worn map he provided for all of his guests. He handed us a tour book in English from a pile of 7 different languages to take along on our journey, and gave us a kiss on each cheek before he left us for a much needed "freshening up".
I could go on and on about Ennio and his love for hosting guests from all over the world. But let's just say this--he's hosted over 500 people in his 5 star guest flat, and each time I'm sure they feel like they're the first, the best, the most important guests he's ever had. How he has the time and energy for this when he works full time as an Environmental Engineer? One may never know...
The beautiful couchsurfing stories continue... and I have a really special one for you, coming up next...
Until then, tomorrow is a long-awaited day for me. I'm leaving Torino (northern Italy...host of the '06 winter olympics) and heading to the Pisa Airport where I'm picking up Brian. It's been over 4 months since I've seen his amazing face, felt his perfect touch... and let's just say I'm biting my nails with every second of anticipation. I cannot wait. I trust that everything will go just as it should :)
All my love...
Rachael
May 27, 2008
May 18, 2008
Alive in Sicily.
We left on a direct train from Florence to Switzerland at 6am yesterday. 8 hours of beautiful mountains and great conversations with a German architect, and before we know it Carolina and I are back in the city we've called home for so long now. Pete--a tangential friend of my mom's--and his beautiful Thai wife and triple citizenship 2 year old son, provided us with a place to drop our bags, adorable toddler entertainment, delicioso vino rosso, and amazing home-cooked Thai food. Bags and bellies packed at almost 11p.m. we left for the station to catch the train to Pisa Centrale and then the mini-train to Pisa Airport. No trains would be running early enough for us to catch one in the morning for our 6a.m. flight, so we took the only option available--airport slumber party.
Carolina and I arrive at Pisa Centrale only to discover that despite it's online listing, and paper printed listing, the shuttle train to the airport decided to cancle. I snickered to myself, "Toto, I don't think we're in Switzerland anymore."
We wait outside in the pouring rain for an hour. A bus finally pulls up. We catch a ride to the airport hoping for a few hours of sleep. 12 disgruntled travelers sit in twos and threes on the cold pavement in front of the locked airport doors. It's just after midnight and the airport is closed until 4a.m. The cold pavement is lined with bags, a sad attempt at a make-shift mattress for the night. It's 3a.m. and I haven't slept a blink. One hour to go. I layer on more clothing and grunt at my dirty toes. "Damn midevil cobbled stone. Horrible when it rains," I mutter.
4a.m. the airport opens and we sleep on chairs for a half hour. 4:30. Go through check-in, luggage, customes. Sleep on the other end for 20 minutes. Drowned in grimey rain and apathy, we're the last ones to board the plane at 6a.m. I sleep for two hours. Wake up in Trapani at 8a.m. Buy a ticket for the 8:40 bus to Palermo that never comes. Encora...so it goes it Italy. Sit in the sun for two hours. It's 10a.m. and we're finally greeted by a bus to Palermo. An hour later, we reach the saving grace of our "odessy" as Carolina referred to it. Our place of refuge? Ennio's 8th story spare room balcony apartment, dedicated especially to us. Couchsurfing bliss. More to come on that... for now, no sleep... but food and "magic cafe" to fuel our withering bodies.
Pace e Amore,
Racholina... as the Italians have been calling me
Carolina and I arrive at Pisa Centrale only to discover that despite it's online listing, and paper printed listing, the shuttle train to the airport decided to cancle. I snickered to myself, "Toto, I don't think we're in Switzerland anymore."
We wait outside in the pouring rain for an hour. A bus finally pulls up. We catch a ride to the airport hoping for a few hours of sleep. 12 disgruntled travelers sit in twos and threes on the cold pavement in front of the locked airport doors. It's just after midnight and the airport is closed until 4a.m. The cold pavement is lined with bags, a sad attempt at a make-shift mattress for the night. It's 3a.m. and I haven't slept a blink. One hour to go. I layer on more clothing and grunt at my dirty toes. "Damn midevil cobbled stone. Horrible when it rains," I mutter.
4a.m. the airport opens and we sleep on chairs for a half hour. 4:30. Go through check-in, luggage, customes. Sleep on the other end for 20 minutes. Drowned in grimey rain and apathy, we're the last ones to board the plane at 6a.m. I sleep for two hours. Wake up in Trapani at 8a.m. Buy a ticket for the 8:40 bus to Palermo that never comes. Encora...so it goes it Italy. Sit in the sun for two hours. It's 10a.m. and we're finally greeted by a bus to Palermo. An hour later, we reach the saving grace of our "odessy" as Carolina referred to it. Our place of refuge? Ennio's 8th story spare room balcony apartment, dedicated especially to us. Couchsurfing bliss. More to come on that... for now, no sleep... but food and "magic cafe" to fuel our withering bodies.
Pace e Amore,
Racholina... as the Italians have been calling me
May 15, 2008
The Grass Really Is Greener...
Rumor has it that the Swiss and the Italians aren't the fondest of each other. True or not, I refuse to choose sides between two magically different worlds. If only you could see my view right now, maybe you'd understand.
But for starters, I'll give you a taste of the sounds. Like a childhood story set in the country, every morning the rooster crows its song--a loud and mighty COCK-a-doodle-DOOO!--and then again in the afternoon. Crickets and birds whistle their mating calls, and in the distance echoes a farmer directing his dog to herd in the cattle, moos and cow bells following in time. Not a single car engine interrupts this natural symphony, only the low humming of an old tractor grazing over the sun-yellow oil crops. And then there's the most beautiful part. The silence that rests in between the perfect chords, as still as a child passed out on the couch after a long day playing in the sweltering beaming sunlight.
This atmosphere is true music to my soul. A sound so organically refreshing that at first I had to focus intently on winding myself down to this volume of peace and nature before I could actually hear its calling. And my eyes--well they're quite overwhelmed, too. I talked to my mom on the phone the other day and when I told her of the beauty here, her words didn't even skip a beat. "In Switzerland I felt so close to God," she said. "And I don't normally say things like that."
The backyard of Janine's house is lush with perfectly blooming flowers--violets, tulips, and lilacs that smell so sweet I'd considered licking them... A small fish pond rests before a canopy of trees and bushes, and beyond that, a hill leading to potato crop fields, in parallel lines and not yet harvested. In front of the neighbor's wooden brown farm houses and between the crops lie a tan gravel path. And--I kid you not--a horse and carriage carrying a family of four, riding along and leaving a trail of dust.
This country is pure magic. And I haven't even mentioned the mountains yet! But really, can words do justice to the towering snow-capped rocks that overwhelm everyone in their presence with an unavoidable feeling of calm? Really and truly, the mountains are Divine.
To the Swiss people, the organic natural life is every-day life. But to the American girl who just spent 4 months over-eating, over-drinking, and walking miles through Firenze without a patch of green grass in sight... organic natural life is a much needed rehabilitation. A floating of sorts where moments feel weightless and free.
the neighborhood
In terms of practical updates, Carolina and I are staying with her friend Janine who went to high school with her for a year in the US as an exchange student. Her family of six consists of Mom, Dad, Janine (20), Michele (18), Julia (12), and Ila (the most adorable and lovable dog I've ever met). All but Julia speak English--in fact, they speak French, German, and some Italian, too. (Impressive Swiss people!) But that's necessary in a country that has 4 native languages. This family has welcomed us in the way a grandmother does the youngsters...always feeding us traditional and delicious meals, filling us in on all the local history and insiders secrets, and even showing us old slides of travels from their younger days. How lucky we are to be here with them.
We've spent our days visiting local castles and lakes, and two day trips. One to Bern, the capital, and another to Lucerne, a mountainous lake-side town. Both beautiful and exciting in their own special ways. One more day to go here before we head back down to the squelching land of Sicilia.
Wish us luck on this wild adventure. All my love,
Rachael
But for starters, I'll give you a taste of the sounds. Like a childhood story set in the country, every morning the rooster crows its song--a loud and mighty COCK-a-doodle-DOOO!--and then again in the afternoon. Crickets and birds whistle their mating calls, and in the distance echoes a farmer directing his dog to herd in the cattle, moos and cow bells following in time. Not a single car engine interrupts this natural symphony, only the low humming of an old tractor grazing over the sun-yellow oil crops. And then there's the most beautiful part. The silence that rests in between the perfect chords, as still as a child passed out on the couch after a long day playing in the sweltering beaming sunlight.
This atmosphere is true music to my soul. A sound so organically refreshing that at first I had to focus intently on winding myself down to this volume of peace and nature before I could actually hear its calling. And my eyes--well they're quite overwhelmed, too. I talked to my mom on the phone the other day and when I told her of the beauty here, her words didn't even skip a beat. "In Switzerland I felt so close to God," she said. "And I don't normally say things like that."
The backyard of Janine's house is lush with perfectly blooming flowers--violets, tulips, and lilacs that smell so sweet I'd considered licking them... A small fish pond rests before a canopy of trees and bushes, and beyond that, a hill leading to potato crop fields, in parallel lines and not yet harvested. In front of the neighbor's wooden brown farm houses and between the crops lie a tan gravel path. And--I kid you not--a horse and carriage carrying a family of four, riding along and leaving a trail of dust.
This country is pure magic. And I haven't even mentioned the mountains yet! But really, can words do justice to the towering snow-capped rocks that overwhelm everyone in their presence with an unavoidable feeling of calm? Really and truly, the mountains are Divine.
To the Swiss people, the organic natural life is every-day life. But to the American girl who just spent 4 months over-eating, over-drinking, and walking miles through Firenze without a patch of green grass in sight... organic natural life is a much needed rehabilitation. A floating of sorts where moments feel weightless and free.
the neighborhood
In terms of practical updates, Carolina and I are staying with her friend Janine who went to high school with her for a year in the US as an exchange student. Her family of six consists of Mom, Dad, Janine (20), Michele (18), Julia (12), and Ila (the most adorable and lovable dog I've ever met). All but Julia speak English--in fact, they speak French, German, and some Italian, too. (Impressive Swiss people!) But that's necessary in a country that has 4 native languages. This family has welcomed us in the way a grandmother does the youngsters...always feeding us traditional and delicious meals, filling us in on all the local history and insiders secrets, and even showing us old slides of travels from their younger days. How lucky we are to be here with them.
We've spent our days visiting local castles and lakes, and two day trips. One to Bern, the capital, and another to Lucerne, a mountainous lake-side town. Both beautiful and exciting in their own special ways. One more day to go here before we head back down to the squelching land of Sicilia.
Wish us luck on this wild adventure. All my love,
Rachael
May 5, 2008
Where the moment takes us
You know that moment that happens as the night is winding down but nobody wants it to end? 15 empty wine bottle accompany a group of persistent friends on the tile floor, and the dining room table above is crowded with what's left of an amazing pot-luck dinner devoured earlier. Conversation wanders into subversive 4a.m. subjects like the metaphoric words for penis and vagina in various languages (fragolina, pescelina, pattetina) or how a woman orgasms better with socks on... And then before we know it it's 6a.m., pajamas are on, and we're tucking each other into spare beds, taking turns cuddling, squirmming, hugging and kissing each other. All of the cute and endearing knick-names of our childhoods are discovered and used like permenent reminders of how much we want the youthfulness, the simplicity, the pure fun of this night to last forever. So we just keep going until finally, the bodies that we've been stretching too thin for too long, finally give out and sweep us into the most perfect, blissful sleep. Tonight, we don't even need to dream.
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