Fondi was our first stop in Italy.  It was a cute little town where we stayed with Sonia’s family for two days.  And let me tell you, those two days were AWESOME.  Tons of great and food, free accommodation, friendly relatives and a beach just a 5 minute walk away!  It was glorious.

One event that stands out (aside from the food) was building our sand castle.  Now as I had grown up with two sisters, whenever I was at a beach with my family, it was usually just myself that built the sandcastles.  My sisters were never really interested in helping as they were too busy tanning or doing whatever girls with cooties do.  So when Paul, Justin and I were talking about our first beach day and the subject of sand castles came up and both showed a lot of interest, I was almost in heaven!  Finally, some brother-in-arms to help me defend the King’s castle from the ceaseless horde of water monsters.

We grabbed some shovels and a pail, then headed off to the beach with Sonia and her little cousin in tow.  After a quick swim and some preliminary scouting we chose a small peninsula in the sand that had appeared during low tide on which to build our base.  In hindsight, this was probably not the brightest choice, but alas we thought we might be able to out-build the rising tide (aside: don’t try to out-build a rising tide…).  We drew out a rough layout in the sand of our castle and began to build.  It was to have a main raised area near the front on which we would build the palace with a ramp down to the royal gardens (as every king needs his royal gardens in which to dilly-dally the day away).  We then mapped out our poor peasant neighbourhood, the middle class area, the wealthy and prominent part of town and the marketplace.  This was going to be a top notch castle.
Paul began work on the front barricade wall.  He created a large sand base and then used a drip-sand technique to build up spires that reminded me of Gaudi’s architectural style.  Justin created a large bamboo bridge connecting our small peninsula to the mainland.  I worked on the normal castle walls and used a pail to create our turrets every foot or so.  A small moat travelled through our miniature city to help prevent flooding from large waves.

Everything was going to plan.  We constructed our raised palace and I was using small greenery to create a miniature garden and trees and adding some detail to the outer walls.  Everything was going according to plan.  In another 2 hours our palace would be complete, the townsfolk would be happy and the king would be more than safe behind his high walls from any marauding hordes.

We certainly got some strange looks from people walking by, some stopping to watch us three twenty-something year olds building a sand castle.  Some even thought we were professional sand-castle builders and were inquiring as to if we were going to be there the following days as well.  All was well and good.  We had smiles on our faces, sweat on our brow and people appreciating the work we were doing.  The only minor problem we ran into was Sonia’s little cousin who kept wanting to help out, and by help out he generally just destroyed things we had just painstakingly worked on.  This is where Sonia’s role came in.  She became “the muscle”.   We assigned her the role of keeping the devil child (and I say that in the nicest possible way) from destroying our work.  And might I say, she did a damn fine job of it!

Then it all went to hell.

It didn’t happen suddenly, but rather creeped upon us, much like the rising tide of the ocean.  Wait…it was the rising tide of the ocean.  At first it was only a wave or two that would wash into our small city-fortress, something our in-city moat could take care of.  Then flooding became a common occurrence.  We worked feverishly building up more walls, reinforcing our structures, scrambling madly for dry sand.  A horrible feeling began consuming us.  We knew we couldn’t win this war, alas our king was to perish a horrible death.  The final hour was upon us.  We started to slow our construction, people along the beach looked upon us with pity and expressed sorrow for our loss.  Paul’s front barricade wall was starting to give away, the waves chipping away at his beautiful structure bit by bit.

Then a brilliant idea struck one of us.  I’m not sure who though of it first, but suddenly the idea formed for a way to at least save the King’s palace.  We could create a large rock base that extended above the waterline on the remaining dry part of the peninsula.  We grabbed some of the stone and rock we had previously started using on our palace and made it into a small pile.  Alas it was not nearly enough.  Depression set in once again, what were we to do?

Then what could be considered almost a small rage came over me.  I refused to give up after so much work and let the King perish.  I told my building-brothers-in-arms to hang on and do what they could for the king while I was gone, and bolted off.  I scoured the beach for larger rocks. I found some farther down the beach and ran back with them, dropping them in front of Justin and Paul, yelling quick words of encouragement and then bolted off again.  I repeated this over and over, grabbing more large rocks and discarded pieces of concrete, having to run farther and farther on each trip to find the required stones.  I can only imagine what the other beach-goers were thinking, me running back and forth along the beach in a full sprint grabbing large rocks and taking them back to our small area.  I didn’t care, they didn’t understand, they couldn’t understand.  We had a duty, a reason to carry on, a king to protect.  Slowly but surely as the tide rose, but so did our small mound of rock, sand and twigs.  Laughter and glee once again filled the air as a feeling of triumph poured through our bodies and hope filled our hearts.

Once we achieved a desirable height of about 2 feet above the waterline we reconstructed our palace again, and even included a small flag made of a bamboo pole and small greenery for the flag.  We had won, at least for now, and that’s what mattered.

We then went for a quick swim and headed back to the house for another amazing dinner, confident that our palace would hold.  Later in the evening we decided to go for a beach walk to check to see if our fortress had indeed withstood the force of Poseidon and his minions.  We walked the beach, but alas could not find our workmanship, nor any trace of it.  Slightly confused, we walked back and forth around the area we thought we had worked.  Finally Justin and Paul came across the remnants of the base.

There were rocks strewn all over.  It was a disaster of magnificent proportions. We had failed our king.  The evil tide had won.  We all fell into a mournful state (except Sonia, she was about 50 feet from us sitting on the sand laughing, but she has cooties so forget about her…).  We gathered around one of the remaining rocks and had a moment of silence.  I saluted to our lost king and we all said a few words in remembrance of the great leader and apologized for not being able save him.  If we had not been in each other’s company, I’m sure we would have all shed a tear or two, such was our grief.

Yet life must go on.  We promised each other and our lost king, now in the afterlife, that future castles we built would have a monument to our lost king, a type of remembrance and tribute if you will, our penance.  We walked solemnly away from the area, eyes down, watching our feet.

After a little while we glanced at each other and smiles crept over our faces as we started chuckling.  I’m sure the same thought passed through all of our heads: It was great to be a kid again.

With ear to ear grins on our faces, a group of us have assembled outside of the spray painted bus.  There is a wide range of people among us, some young North American students, middle aged men on vacation, a number of young Koreans and a few older women as well.  Scanning the faces of each person, the excitement is easily seen, but upon looking closer I pick up on the flashes of anxiety and even a touch of fright.  We all knew what we were getting into though.  We all signed on that dotted line and handed over our credit card to be charged an exuberant exorbitant sum of money.

The group leader waves us over, gives us a quick talk and then opens up the bus doors into which we enter.  Filing in we take our seats.  I sit with two other young chaps I had been previously talking with.   As the bus engine roars to life we begin the hour long journey to our destination. We resume our conversations about all of our previous travels, swapping stories of adventure and misadventure, all the while the bus winding though the snow-capped mountains of Switzerland.  Villages of all sizes dot the landscape while rivers and small streams cut through the sides of the mountains, often forming small waterfalls and swiftly flowing rapids.  The time flies by and before I realize it the bus has stoped.  We’re at the base of the first gondola station.

As the bus door opens and we start to get off I hear a few shouts of joy over the background of excited conversation.  With our guides toting all the gear behind them, we board the platform and wait for the next gondola.  Nearly everyone goes to the bathroom, including myself, a fact that I found most amusing.

At last the gondola arrives and twenty of us cram into its tight quarters.  The doors slam shut, one of our guides presses a few buttons and we start moving almost majestically up the mountain, the soft swing of the gondola becoming almost hypnotic.  At last we arrive at our first platform.  We exit the gondola and throw all our stuff in one of the buildings there.  It’s time to weigh in.

I wait for my turn patiently and then finally step on the scale.  I’m in the green weight class zone, which means I’ll be in the first group to go.  I’m given a harness to put on which fits snugly over my body.  Then a guide places some pads around my shins and ankles.  He smiles and asks if I’m ready.  Of course I am, I reply easily, I’m excited but not afraid.

Finally everyone in the first group is ready.  Fifteen of us cram into a tiny gondola that is probably made for five comfortably.  Suddenly “pump me up” music starts pouring from the large speakers in the gondola.  Everyone laughs and starts moving to the beat, some, including myself, start to pretend to dance, although it’s rather hard since everyone is basically packed in like sardines.  The gondola starts to move.  As it’s about halfway to the next platform it abruptly stops, the gondola swinging in the air.  We’re over a small lake overlooking a beautiful green landscape of mountains, with snow in the distance.

Looking around, many people are murmuring to those near them, the look of fear more prevalent on their faces, while a few of us just start smiling even wider (if it were even possible) and moving our heads to the rhythm of the music.  The gondola door slides open and the two guides with us start busying themselves with various tasts.  Two young Americans who had done this before sign up to go first and second as they’re closest to the door.  I put my name third on the sign-up sheet.

Before I really even notice, there are two less people in the gondola and I find myself staring out the open doorway of the gondola.  The guide attaches a long cord to my legs and double checks my harness straps.  He smiles, pats me on the back and tells me to get ready.  I move myself right to the edge of the doorway and place both my hands on the side walls and crouch down slightly, preparing myself to launch out.  The gondola suddenly roars to life with the sound of everyone yelling in unison, “Five, four, three, two, one, BUNNNGIIEEEEE!!!!!!!”

Without a seconds hesitation, and with seeming insanity, I pull with all my might on my hands and push with my legs jumping straight out of the gondola in a superman like fashion .  I’m flying.  The feeling is incredible.  For that brief moment I’m completely weightless, the only view is the lake below and the mountains ahead.  Suddenly the laws of the universe kick in and my body starts to dip forward.  I imagine myself deciding to swoop down to the earth after enjoying my brief flight.  The lake suddenly becomes one of the only things in my view.  What was seemingly a small lake grows larger and larger as I plummet towards it.

Then I feel it.  The bungee cord attached to my ankles tightens, my decent slows and then finally stops about five meters above the surface of the water.  That was fun I think to myself. A split second later I’m being rocketed back up towards the gondola.  My god this is awesome.  As I near the peak of my return back up, I pose for the camera.  Then back down to earth I fall again.  Then back up, then back down.  I’m relaxed, enjoying the roller coaster like sensations, trying to take every moment of it in.

About fifteen seconds after my initial jump I at last cease bouncing and hang upside down over the water about twenty meters up.  They let loose some slack in the gondola and I drop down towards the row boat waiting for me below.  Grabbing onto the outstretched pole I pull myself down and land in the boat.  A man quickly unstraps me and sends the bungee cord back up.

They then rowed the boat back to land and I jump onto the shore, sadly once more becoming a land-locked creature of the earth.  But I had my moment, however brief.  That feeling of freedom, without a care in the world, soaring high over the Swiss Alps.

So I’ve been amassing a list of some of the more subtle differences between the places I’ve travelled thus far and my dear sweet home in Canada. Pretty much whenever I or my travel buddies would notice something I’d try to remember and write it down later!

Locomotive Methods

• Almost all the taxi cabs are very nice Mercedes! Usually beige/tan in colour and impeccably clean!
• Transit systems are extremely extensive! The subway stations are massive and in Germany they even had little clocks that displayed the remaining time until the next subway. Also most of the systems are on an honour system, so they only do random checks for tickets once in a while.  Playing the “silly backpackers who thought the system was free” seems to work, although not something I suggest depending on.
• J-walking or crossing on a red light in Germany is frowned upon. You will get nasty looks from disgruntled old German men if you do!
• There are many more bicycles about, and many cities have dedicated bike paths and even little bicycle stoplights! (awww isn’t that so cute?) In Vienna they even had a (pretty much) free bicycle system that was all electronically controlled with stations all around the city that you can pick up and drop off the bikes at! A damn sweet system and very useful for getting around!
• All the cars are smaller, you see very few SUV’s
• The city of Interlaken, Switzerland didn’t even have streetlights! Just small round-abouts where the cars stop and always yield for pedestrians!
• Much more interlocking tile for roads and sidewalks.

Consumption and Anti-Consuption

• With a diet of schnitzel, donar kobaps, sausages and 1liter beers, some how Germans in Munich are still not fat! We still have no idea how this is possible…I theorize they’re all aliens.
• They don’t have just coffee like we have coffee. Asking for a coffee gets you an espresso, and when you try your hardest to clarify that you want a normal large coffee, they just smile and stare blankly at you while handing you a double or triple espresso
• Yogurt is far more prevalent! Everyone eats and drinks it! Yes, drinks yogurt! It’s similar to our Yop, but they come in 550mL bottles, and a wide assortment of flavours!
• They have something called ultra-pasteurized milk that doesn’t ever need to be refrigerated. The amount of this type of milk far out numbers (normal) cold refrigerated milk. Some stores actually only sell the non-refrigerated type.
• Alcohol is sold everywhere! And most places are fine with drinking on the streets! Yey!
• If you’re in a public location and wish to use a bathroom because you’ve been holding it for 5 hours, be prepared to shell out at least fifty cents to get in! On the plus side, the bathrooms are usually clean, and fully stocked with tp, soap and hand towels.
• They are in love with toilette scrubbers! I have yet to see a bathroom in Germany, Switzerland or Italy that doest have that little scrubber right beside the toilette!
• The label for the bathroom is “WC”, I’m assuming it means wash closet or water closet, but asking for the toilette usually gets you going in the right direction.

Ethnic, Cultural and Other Such Things

• Most cities are medium density, so not many skyscrapers or tall apartment buildings, but pretty much all the buildings are attached to each other
• Nudity is much more prevalent in the advertisements throughout the cities
• Germans and Swiss love to recycle!
• Less ethnic diversity in the big cities. Where Toronto might be a Mosaic, cities over here are pretty much homogeneous.
• Everyone has a cellphone and are always on it texting away
• There’s far more history and architecture in every city
• Clubs don’t close at 2:00am
• In Munich there is a dog tax you have to pay which is based on the aggressiveness of the dog. So a chiuaua might cost 150Euro a year where a pit bull is 1500Euro a year.
• The grass is actually greener over here! (especially “forbidden grass” near palace areas where you will get yelled at for walking and sleeping on lol)

Alright, I know you are all waiting for me to update, and I will, but I just don’t have the time right now.  So instead, I’ve decided to cheat and post what my travel buddy Paul wrote to a bunch of our friends!  It sums up Amsterdam, Berlin and Prague pretty well.  When I get some time I’ll try to add in some other stories and additions to those cities!

So here you go in the words of Paul:

Alright friends, it’s currently an off-night for us, and we have cheap internet at the hostel here in Vienna, so I’ll give you a quick update, and only ‘quick’ because these German/Austrian keyboards piss me off. The y and z are switched, and a bunch of other buttons are in strange places!

So we arrived in Vienna this evening after a huge train scheduling debacle. Stupid Prague train station refused to sell us BOTH train tickets we needed to get to Vienna and wanted us to use a eurail day instead! THEN they failed to tell us that the train was actually leaving from a DIFFERENT station! At the last minute we realized this fact and took a speedy cab ride to the proper spot, only to find that the train was late anyway, so it worked out – we even had time to fix the ticket debacle! We haven’t seen much of Vienna yet – just the Wombats hostel (which is great), and a random pub. Tomorrow we start sight-seeing!

The hostels have been amazing so far – we keep getting quad rooms, so it’s like staying in a hotel, but I would say it’s cleaner! On top of that, the bathroom in our hostel in prague was actually STYLISH as well as clean! The only half-dirty place was the ‘flying pig’ in amsterdam, but that had kind of a ‘pot smoker’s haven’ charm to it. There were cushions in the front where people would just… space… out….

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ANYWAY the red light district was larger, better lit, and much more touristy than expected. It was tons of fun, and I didn’t get lost for THAT long (not long enough to find a good window, anyway…. :p). The Anne Frank museum was pretty emotional, and the Van Gough museum was pretty interesting, although I’m not a fan of much of his work (too depressing). Also it rained a LOT. Don’t let me get you down though – it’s a beautiful city, full of canals, and great for walking and getting lost (we did that many times). Oh, and as most of you know, the Heineken experience was worth doing, especially if you like beer!

Getting to Berlin was a bit difficult, since we forgot to validate our Eurail passes (a big no-no) before we got on the train. We had to get off, get them validated, and board a train 2 hours later, hence forfeiting our reservations. In the process of this we lost Justin. He’s still missing actually. Have any of you heard from him??? The city of Berlin was amazing though. It was like a mix of commie flare and western investment! The hostel (circus) was hands down better than I would have EVER expected from a budget accomodation. It was like an Ikea ad, with hanging closets, little plastic rolling night tables with a million drawers, and neat looking beds. It was also large, spotless, and had hardwood floors. The best thing to do (outside of the hostel) was take a bike tour of the city. If you haven’t guessed, there’s a TON of WW2 and cold-war history, so it was quite the tour. We also visited the technical museum, because it apparently compliments the one in Munich. It requires an english audioguide (we were too cheap for that), but it was fantastic nevertheless. There was also a pub crawl, the highlight of which was an old-school run down building PLASTERED in graffiti and with bars on 3 of its 5 levels (the other 2 levels were kind of spooky…). Oh, one last thing about Berlin – it’s cheap as hell! A great city for your value, considering the history, the number of things to do, and the nightlife.

Then it was off to Prague, the train ride for which was actually pretty good. The czech countryside is spectacular. Prague itself is a beautiful, but quite sketchy city. We were not fans of the train station, thanks to the ticketing problems, and I was constantly watching my pockets, but apparenly I was scared for nothing. The food and beer is CHEAP, just so long as you don’t order anything imported. The castle was definately the highlight of the city, but it was worth just walking around aimlessly through the streets. The city is pretty much how you would expect every large european city to look. No buildings over 6 storeys (with a few exceptions on the outskirts), and nothing under 3 storeys. Oh, and cobblestone everywhere. If you go, I’d suggest avoiding the main strip (there really aren’t any bargains) except to see once or twice, and just walk through back-alleys and such. Also the hostel Miss Sophie’s was quite stylish, and also pretty cheap. The nightlife is quite good from what we saw, although we were pretty content meeting other travellers in the hotel basement, which was quite nice (I would describe it as ‘clean, dungeon-y charm’).

Anyway, that’s the trip so far. By my standards we’ve gone out drinking quite a bit, but we’ve definately had our off-nights, and I’m sure it’s nothing compared to Mike’s Greek adventures. More to come in a few city’s time! Up next: Vienna (now), Munich (Friday), Interlaken (Tuesday), and then off to Italy!

Cheers,

Paul (and Sonia, Mike, and… ??Justin??)

Until next time!

Well, I’ve had some more crazy experiences since I climbed that mountain on Ios, including the most interesting one happening later that day.Cam, Billy and I were walking up one of the many bar lined streets of Ios when walking towards me about 20 feet away was a woman (not an uncommon event in Ios). At first glance I thought “Hmm, she looks familiar.”  But not giving it much more thought we continue walking towards each other.  Then suddenly, she stops dead in her tracks as if hitting a wall and with her head cocked slightly to the side a look of almost bewilderment washes over her face.  I abruptly stop as well as the reality of the situation hits me.

“Mike?!?”  she says to me with her eyes wide, not sure if she believes it herself.  “Holy crap is this for real???” I reply in an obviously surprised (and perhaps somewhat intoxicated) voice.  Then, still stunned, we approach each other and she holds out her hand for me to shake.  Disregarding any sort of formalities (again most likely due to the alcohol) I go straight past her out-stretched hand and wrap my arms around her in a tight embrace.  We laugh and then talk about our unlikely reunion in such a remote location, making quick introductions to each of our respective friends.  After a bit we then parted ways, and promised to stay in touch in the future.  It was a happy reunion and one of those “crazy” situations you sometimes hear about from others traveling.

So who was this person?  Well, after my 3rd year at university I had a 9 month internship.  It was one of the ladies from there, who I had come to view as a friend, that I saw that fateful night.  Halfway around the world, after not having seen her for over a year, I run into her in Greece.  It was as though Douglas Adam’s Infinite Improbability Drive decided to lend its services for a brief moment and make the near infinitely improbable scenario suddenly possible!
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The remaining two days on Ios were mostly uneventful, more relaxing on the beach, a bit of climbing some smaller rocks for fun and swimming.  We then jetted over to Naxos on the most ridiculously, super-fast, jet-ferry, catamaran (how ya like them adjectives!).  Staying at an amazing hostel, “Pension Irene II”, it was actually better then pretty much any hotel I’ve stayed at and the owner Mrs. Irene was almost like a mother to us!  It is definitely another place I highly recommend to anyone traveling to Naxos.

More beach days were on order in Naxos, throwing the frisbee around in the water, moped rides along the coastal roads, finally windsurfing in the Mediterranean, and meeting amazing people in the evenings who we ate food with and talked with until the wee hours of the morning.

On our third day on Naxos we all decided to climb Mount Zeus!  At an elevation of 1008m it is the tallest peak on Naxos and looked to be quite fun and it was a must-do tourist attraction.  Billy and I took our little scooters, and Cam on a 4-wheeler, to the mountain.  Starting at around 500m probably we only had 508m to climb.  Now the funny part is that since this is a tourist attraction, there is a marked trail that goes around the side of the mountain in a wide loop making it easily hikable by pretty much anyone in any kind of shape.  We however, decided to not take this “touristy” trail and go up the actual front of the mountain.

Ok…wait…I’ll be honest…we completely missed the trail and in fact didn’t even know that there was one marked as it was!  We were just following what appeared to be a trough in the mountain that we assumed would take us to the top fairly easily.

The first 150 meters or so we had to madly scramble up what would be similar to a highly inclined loose-gravel surface, which kept giving way underneath our feet.  This is far more exhausting then you might think.  The next 50 meters was then spent climbing over rock boulders accursed with those damned thorny bushes I had the previous pleasure of experiencing on Ios.

The next 200 meters to the top of the ridge was quite interesting.  By that point we were actually free-climbing up the side of the rock faced mountain.  At one point, wild mountain goats kept moving in the direction of the route we were travelling, as if to cut us off and then most likely to ram us with their massively curled horns.  We had to keep adjusting our routes to avoid them.  In hindsight, I’m sure they were quite pleasant creatures, more afraid of us than we were of them, but you put yourself on a side of a cliff with a hundred meters to fall behind you and trust me, you’ll think the goats are possessed by the devil and coming after you too!

Needless to say after we reached the ridge line we found the path and the last 108 meters to the top was a breeze.  There, we took many “Zeus-like” pictures and celebrated our ascent of the mountain.  The view was spectacular with mountains and small villages surrounding us, definitely worth every ounce of required energy.

On our way back we took the easy touristy route and it was indeed, very easy.  We were all very glad to have missed the proper trail as it made the climb that much more rewarding.
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After Naxos we then went to Mykonos where I am currently.  It is wayyyyy too expensive for stuff here so we’re had a pretty chilled night yesterday.

I also found out yesterday night that my flight from Athens to Amsterdam on Saturday was changed from 4pm to 9am…this makes it rather difficult to make the connection with my flight from Mykonos to Athens being at 2pm.  Thankfully I was able to scooter over to the airport and found a 7am flight on Saturday morning so I can still make my connection in Athens.

However, Olympic Airlines were very rude about their own screw-up and then they actually charged me 20Euro as the only seats available on the 7am flight were a higher class than what I paid for.  So here I am, 2 days before the flight informed of a huge time change, and then they want to charge me b/c they don’t have the same class of seat available…I talked, then argued, then eventually gave in.  And you know what, I’ll never fly Olympic again.  Their lack of understanding and acknowledgement of their own mistake didn’t gain them 20Euro, it cost them hundreds if not thousands of dollars in what could have been possible future visits.
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As my time here in Greece comes to a close, I think back to some of the more peculiar aspects:  freshly baked spanikopitas on Ios, two frape’s a day, mountain climbing, partying until 5 in the morning (then going for more spanikopitas), rakomalo shots, scootering around every island, and loving those white and blue themed buildings ever-present throughout the land.

As long as I can remember, I’ve always had a fascination with mountains.  Whenever I see one the first thought that inevitably pops into my head is “I want to climb that mountain!”  Sadly in most cases I do not actually get the opportunity, for one reason or another.  I’d like to believe the desire stems from my greek ancestors who lived in the mountains of Greece, and so on some subconscious level I long to go back to my roots.

When we arrived in Ios our first day, the view was striking.  Small mountains dotted the landscape, villages built on the sides of some of the smaller ones.  The white and blue buildings perfectly capturing the picturesque post-card image that we’ve all so often seen of Greece.  As we headed down to the beach for the first time, that same thought kept forming in my head “I want to climb these mountains!”  Now normally I would just suppress these thoughts, yielding them to fanciful thinking, but it was different now, I was on a once in a lifetime trip, had a lot of time to spend here on the island, and now actually had some rock climbing experience from the previous year.  I decided then that before I left Ios I would conquer one of the mountains.

I talked with my two travel friends, Cam and Billy, about it, and they showed a bit of interest but definitely not the passion that I was hoping for and that I had myself.  I knew I’d be attempting it alone.  So, surveying the mountains while we lounged about on the white sand by the crystal clear water of the Mediterranean, I chose one and mentally mapped out a route.  You can see which one I chose here (see the poorly drawn arrow), it has small radio tower at the summit, so I would always know what to look for during my ascent and Billy and Cam would know where I was headed in case anything should happen.  I decided that I would make the climb in a couple of days.

The morning (*cough2:00pmcough*) of our third day on the island, I awoke and knew that it would be that day.  I donned my Tiva sandals, put on a touch of sunscreen, stuffed my camera, a 1.5 litre bottle of water and my first aid kit into my backpack and headed out.  Jumping on my little scooter, I zipped down the windy road to the beach which was near the base of the mountain.  Parking my bike I started walking.

This was actually one of the scarier parts of the trip as I had to travel through some residential properties to get on to the actual mountain.  Having been chased by dogs two days prior, I was not looking forward to a similar experience, so I maintained a constant state of weariness.  Thankfully the worst that happened was a donkey slowly clambering towards me as I passed it.  However, its leg was tied with a rope to a peg in the ground so I knew I didn’t really have to worry.  At last passing by all the houses I reached my mountain.  Checking my watch, 3:30pm,  I started climbing.

I was given a rather nasty surprise very quickly.  Almost all the bushes that covered the mountain were thorn bushes.  Now these are no regular thorn bushes.  The bushes themselves are extremely stiff and the thorns are about an inch long and razor sharp.  It was essentially similar to having thousands of pins sticking out from a bush, just waiting to draw my blood.  Suddenly shorts and sandals didn’t seem like the best idea, but it was too late to go back.  My path was quickly being dictated by the openings between these thorny bushes as it was impossible to walk through them.  As the hillside was also used by greek farmers for their goats to graze in, their small paths often aided me in traversing certain areas.

Dividing up the land were stone walls created by stacking flat rocks on each other until they were a sufficient height.  You can see a picture of them here.  What was amazing is that these walls were miles upon miles in length, along the side of the mountains through some pretty intense terrain.  It would have taken very long to build all of them all, and so much labour to find all the proper stones and make it all fit properly.  The quality of the walls was incredible too!  There were several sections of the climb where I had to actually scamper across the top of the wall to continue my ascent as there was no other alternative.

The climb had many interesting aspects.  Although I tried my best to avoid the thorny bushes, I was still being stuck and scraped.  I was continuously stopping to pull out thorns from my exposed feet and legs.  After a while I got used to it and would just ignore the pain.  At one point I looked at my feet to see three one inch needles sticking out of my left foot.  The wounds however were similar to a pinprick you might get on your finger by a doctor so they do not bleed for very long or that much.  I came to both respect and resent those damned bushes.  They did however make for some interesting technical parts.  Often I was jumping from one exposed rock to another over the bushes with the cost of a mistake being a hell of a lot of pain.

The sounds of grasshoppers filled the air, but as I approached they would quickly silence and only continue once I had passed a fair distance away.  To my annoyance, a few small flies also accompanied me on my trip, but overall they were not too much of a bother.  Small lizards always dashed away when I approached, my eyes only catching the quick flash as they scurried deep into a bush or underneath a rock.

A few times I had to jump across a chasm which was always a little precarious.  Thankfully I managed to do those successfully and am still able to write about it.  Several technical climbing parts presented themselves as well.  They were probably the equivalent to about a 5.9 – 5.10 if you know the rating for rock climbing gyms.  They definitely provided some excellent challenges.

The views and scenery as I ascended was incredible.  Often I would just stop and admire, sometimes taking a few pictures.

I finally reached the top after about two hours of  walking, running, climbing, scampering and jumping.  It was worth it.  I stayed up there a good twenty minutes, just relaxing and drinking some of my water.  You can check out the view here and here and see the beach where I started.  Here’s another picture taken looking the other way off the mountain, it gave quite the view as well.

After getting my fill of the view and regaining my energy, I began my descent.  I took a different route down that was mostly through a flood trough, that probably filled up during heavy rainfalls.  There were less of the thorny bushes, as there were mainly just very large, water-worn rocks.  I was often jumping down distances of 7-8 feet and climbing down the rock faces of longer drops.  The decent took about an hour and half and had it’s own unique challenges.  It went mostly without incident however and was a bit more relaxing than the ascent.

Finally reaching the base of the mountain again, I stopped and looked back.  Smiling to myself, I wondered if my ancestors would be proud.  Hundreds of years later, a city boy from halfway around the world at last went back to his roots.

Well we’re in Ios, it was a long trip to get here but in the end it was definitely worth it.

The hostel were staying at, Franchescos, is awesome.  Its more like a small villa in itself.  Everyone on Ios is either Canadian or Australian.  Its nice b/c most speak english, however it sucks in that were not meeting people from crazy random places like we did in Barcelona.

They party hard here, similar to Barcelona.  Beach during the afternoon, late dinners, pubs from 12-3ish am then 3-7am at one of the main clubs here, and then finally we get to sleep until from 7 – 12..lol ¦its quite a difference from back home.

Went on a run with Cam, Billys friend that joined us for Greece.  We ran up to a little monastary at the top of a small mountain which was quite nice, then when we were running back we got chased by two dogs. lol I guess we were running on their territory.  Nothing like two barking dogs running full tilt towards you with teeth bared to put a little spring in your step!

Billy and I have little mopeds (dont worry mother were very safe and responsible on them), and yesterday we went to the other side of the island to watch the sunset.  We discovered a deserted beach with a huge rock formation facing west that we climbed all over and took pictures on.  It was gorgeous as the water was crystal clear, reflecting the sunset and allowing a view of the coral reefs surrounding us.  It was all so romantical, except that I was with Billy hahaha.  It was pretty cool though still.  At least the rock climbing made it manly, so its all good.

Were staying on Ios until Sunday, and then headed out to Naxos, Paros and Mykonos for next week.  So that should be fun, and hopefully well get to meet people from other countries as well.  Until then!

Well my time here in Barcelona is coming to an end, the hostel we’ve stayed at, Saint Jordi Alberg, has been amazing, very friendly staff who make you feel extremely welcome, and a good vibe to the place.

Some of the highlights from the trip:

La Ramblas
This is THE strip in Barcelona.  It’s about a 2km long street with a massive center walkway where there are street performers, little shops and sweet patios for which to eat Tapas and have a few drinks.  The highlight of the strip are the people that dress up like statues and then there are actual statues, so you can’t really tell which are which, and you start approaching both with a large amount of caution for fear of them moving at the last second to freak you out…

The greatest was when I was trying to take a picture of one, and my camera screen washed out white, and I got all confused, then tried to take another picture and the screen went white again, then when I looked up I saw that the statue man was reflecting the sun with a mirror into my lense and then we both burst out laughing and he pointed down for a small donation.  I thought it was such a hilarious tactic that I went and gave him some money and he let me take his picture in peace and even did a little celebration thing =)

Beach
The beach is great because the weather is amazing and there´s nice scenery to look at too .  Also there were tons of windsurfers and kite surfers out every day so I enjoyed watching them.  Sadly the rental places didn’t start for another 10 days so I was out of luck, hopefuly I’ll get out in the greek islands.

There are also people trying to work the beach which are hilarious.  There are a bunch of Indian men that carry around beer and water and about every 20 seconds someone comes by saying “Servosas, beer, agua, cola” and they just walk up and down the beach repeating that over and over and over in the most monotonous tone you´ve ever heard.  Then there are also the Chinese ladies that are always walking by, a little less frequently though saying “Massage?? Massage??”  and then they smile at you when you look at them and offer a 5Euro massage.  I only saw one person ever actually get one though, so I’m not sure how much money they actually make.

El Gato Negro
This place rocked.  It was a shot bar that has over 150 shots or so with a giant list of them on the wall.  We did many, many shots here.  There was even some crazy one where they vaporized the alcohol with fire and some crazy method with a bowl and glass, so you do the shot and then you breath in the alcohol, very crazy and burns a lot hahaha but fun none the less to see who can breath in the vapour the longest.

City Design
The architecture here is beautiful.  The little parks surrounding the Gaudi building are very nice and everything in the city is laid out very well.  The sidewalks are all tiled and add a nice touch to the ambience of the city.  It’s also nice that they don’t have any skyscrappers so everything just seems so much more open.  Combining that with tapered corners at intersections and little monuments in the middle of intersections randomly throughout the city, it really is a stunning place.

Siesta
When they say they have a siesta from 3-5pm…they have a siesta from 3-5.  Literally the entire city shuts down, it’s crazyness.  Only a few places are actually open, like a few of the supermarkets.

Parc Guelle
We went to this park today on our last day here in Barcelona.  It´s essentially a park designed by Gaudi that was supposed to be a private and isolated residential garden with around 60 houses.  Josep Guelle hired Gaudi to design the infrastructure but when it was time to sell the houses a few years later, there was a lack of interest and then the city bought the area and turned it into a private park.

Now what´s cool is that off the main paths, there are smaller trails, almost like goat paths through forested parts of the park.  Billy and I took a lot of those, and kept climbing higher and higher on the mountain the park sits on.  Eventually we found a trail to the very peak of the mountain that was actually far away from the park and way off the beaten path.  It was a stunning view and no one was there as you had to do some rock climbing to get up there.  It was a truly satisfying moment with an amazing view of the entire city.

Once we got our fill of the view, instead of returning down the path we came we decided to take another small path that dropped down over the other side of the mountain and into the real Barcelona, not the tourist areas that we were accustomed to.  We wandered around for a bit, appreciating what Barcelona is really like and then went into some little restaurant for a meal!  We just chose things randomly off the hand-written menu as no one there spoke any english and we had no clue what the menu was saying.  We ended up getting some crazy soups, then a main meal of meat, fries and fried eggplant, a coke, yogurt for dessert and then when we tried to ask for the check we ended up getting espressos instead as there was a hilarious breakdown in communication between us and the guy working there.  So we had our espressos which turned out to be quite good and then finally got the bill.  It all only cost 9 Euro each, which was awesome, because a similar meal in the touristy area probably would have been around 15-20 Euros each at least!  We then caught a bus back to the hostel and now here I am typing up this post!

The End
Tomorrow we leave for Greece and it´s going to be a long day of airports as we first fly to Brussels, have a 4 hour layover and then another 3.5 hour flight to Athens.  So it´s a 7:30am – 8:30pm day…not going to be fun, especially since we´re going to be tired from partying tonight =) but ah well, I´m sure there will be lots of time to sleep and relax when we finally get to the islands of Greece.

There’s something just really different about taking a run in Barcelona.  Awaking at 12:30am, I don my shoes and head out.  I hit the streets hard, the perfectly laid tile of the sidewalks thudding with each stride I take.  A warm Spanish sun radiating down on the beautiful tree lined streets, each block promising new and interesting facets of this amazing city.

The sounds of scooters fill the air, where everyone from old ladies to men in business suits can be seen on them, a pleasant departure from the grosse use of SUV’s in our North American culture.

I run without direction, taking random turns down side streets and letting the street lights dictate the direction I travel.  Gaudi´s influence becomes apparent in so many of the buildings here, even subtle touches on some of the lamp posts.  Small parks surround the main architectural attractions, I often run through them and admire the interesting statues and buildings which they hold.

By chance I happen upon La Sagrada Familia, one of Gaudi´s most famous works that is continuing to be built to this day.  I stop and admire it for nearly 5 minutes, truly appreciating the masterpiece in progress.

It then comes time to start making my way through the streets back to my hostel.  Not wanting the run to end, I slow down my pace and let my mind wander. I think of all the interesting sites I´ve seen, the facinating people I´ve met, and all the things I´ve already done.  Then the realization hits me, I´ve only been in Europe for 7 days, I smile to myself…two months left.

Day 2 – Partying with the Locals

So after my previous post I went back to the room and played cards while drinking with Billy and one of the other guys in the room. The crazy group of Americans left in the morning so needless to say it was a bit quieter in the dorm, but not nearly as interesting. Four of us from the dorm went out to the pubs in the evening and drank some 14% beer. It’s only brewed one day a year, and I understand why, it was friggin’ disgusting, but…when in Ireland….

We wandered around to a few other pubs and then met some local Irish and partied with them in the Temple Bar area. They were fun, friendly and we hung out late into the night. Learned some new words, such as “locked” which is similar to our “hammered” or “smashed”, so you might say “We got locked last night” in reference to how drunk one was as they were “locked out of their own head”. Also a “skanger” is someone who wears all the sports apparel, such as jerseys and things, but yet doesn’t actually play any sports or know anything about it.

We got back to the hostel by around 2:30 and crashed. I sadly had to be up at 8:00am the next morning for my trip down to Wicklow, although I didn’t mind b/c I was quite excited about it.

Day 3 – Wicklow Tour

The Wicklow tour was the fulfillment of a promise to myself that when I came to Ireland I would go and see the countryside. On the Monday evening I signed up for a “Wild Wicklow Tour” and was excited to get on the bus in the morning even on such little sleep. What made it better was the perfect weather, especially since the previous two days in Dublin were dreary and rainy. The tour ran from 9am – 6pm and our guide Dennis O’Reily (how’s that for Irish?) was awesome, knowledgable, funny and a great story teller. I’d highly recommend that tour for anyone visiting Ireland. The tour was broken up nicely with frequent stops for pictures, small stories about the history of different places and also some really good food. For lunch I had a traditional Irish dish which was a Guinness Stew. Definitely get it if you come here. We saw the sights of a bunch of movies such as Braveheart and Excalibur.

We eventually ended up in Glendalough, which is a monastery built around 600AD set in a valley among mountains. It was stunning, with two lakes in the area. I would love to come back to the area and do a 5 day hike around. There’s apparently a 60mile trail that would be awesome to do, I’m speaking to you Team Trail Mix!

When I finally got back from the trip I had a nice 2 hour nap and then met up with Billy and his god-brother for some drinks. Once they left me and Billy had an easy night, just went to Temple Bar for couple drinks then back to the dorm. So now here I am, typing this up as we burn some time before our plane to Barcelona at 5:30.

I should have pictures up soon, so be sure to check out the links on the right over the next few days as I post them!

Trip so far

It’s bizarre, it’s only been 4 days, but I feel like I’ve been traveling forever. I’ve almost forgotten what Canada is like hahaha. My liver seems to be holding up so far, hopefully it will continue to do so over the next couple months as well, time will tell I guess.

People are very friendly, especially those in hostels which is great. Initially I was worried about the 8+ person rooms, but now that we’ve done them, I think I actually prefer them. It’s such an easy way to meet people quickly, Billy and I were talking and we might actually transfer from our 3 person room in Barcelona to a larger one, but we’ll worry about that when we get there. Hopefully they will have a large common room where people hang out and we can meet others. I’ve heard nothing but good stories about Barcelona so it should definitely be a good time.

Oh, and I still have my fake wallet with Canadian Tire money in it as it has yet to be stolen from my back pocket. I’m not too impressed with the thieves of London or Dublin in this regard. I’m hoping Barcelona will pull through and it will get taken there. I’ll keep you updated on that =)

Cheers!