Saturday, October 30, 2010

Extra Special Sort of Thing I Threw Together Regarding an Extra Special Sort of Place

Here's the different thing that I put together for Wales. Hopefully it'll work. It should be as easy as click, download (for a good few minutes), and watch:

http://www.mediafire.com/?5nzjzn6626d2ric

Pfff...the timing on the music got messed up. Pardon the awkward jumps in tracks!

London, Hastings, and Dublin


I guess it seems like a lot to cover in one post, but I'll do my best to be succinct. I did in fact get to go to London twice, Hastings, and Dublin over my fall break as well. Believe it or not, everything you just read about Machynlleth and Barmouth took place in less than two full days so there was plenty of time to venture elsewhere.



London was the scene of my next journal entry:
25/10/10

It's only two months until Christmas, so just over a month until I go back home. Tonight I'm in cold, but utterly bearable London. I got in early after a long day of trying to see things I didn't my first couple of times here, things a bit off the beaten path (but not too far). I've had a lot of time to think then, and with it being so close to the holidays and to my return home I figured I'd reflect a bit on my total experience so far. Going into the whole thing they told us to make sure we patched up any differences with people and that all of our familial and personal relationships be in good standing, because if not, they'd really eat away at us. I, knowing myself better than most people do, knew that everything would eat away at me no matter how it was before I left. And if I'm honest, I'd certainly taken my family for granted (see previous posts) and was unsure of how to approach the then current Katie situation. We hadn't necessarily been doing badly and I wasn't unsure she was the one I wanted to be with, she just hadn't taken care of a few issues I thought needed more attention and effort. They told me it'd change me, the whole experience. And I believed them. As stoic or constantly angry and uncaring of a person I appear to be, little things have a massive impact. Watching a dad hold his child's hand down the street



or a similar group playing soccer in the park, hearing a certain song when I'm in a certain mood (like today walking into Royal Albert Hall



listening to the Led Zeppelin concert at that very place 40 years earlier or walking around London with what emotionally became my soundtrack to the city, making the city make sense and seem to be in a sort of suspended animation. I was blasting my usual Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and The Clash while walking through crowds of unique people in the English capital!), watching any old stupid movie, anything can really leave its mark on me without me even having to pay much mind to it. I try to take everything in and tend to whether I want to or not anyway. I've definitely been some incredible places along the way, too, places I never thought I'd see, didn't think I'd care about, or didn't even know about beforehand. I remember calling my parents after the class trip to St. Peter's and telling them it was absolutely the best place in the world. At the time there was no doubt in my mind it was. Not long after I was privileged enough to go to Chamonix-Mont-Blanc. Standing atop the peaks and gazing out over Europe I consciously decided that St. Peter's was the best man-made place ever and that Mont Blanc was the most incredible natural place I'd ever been to. But then I visited Wales. As I said, right now I'm in London and I never thought I'd be even slightly disappointed to be here, but yesterday I was. This concrete jungle is hollow feeling compared to the completeness I felt in Machynlleth, Snowdonia, and Barmouth. It's really made me think: have I changed that much? I've started to realize to the contrary. Everything around me is changing and all it's done is solidify what I knew of myself, my preferences, opinions, and values. As I mentioned, I had taken my family's love for granted, but that isn't to say I didn't already think they were the best family in the world. They are. And even though I knew it before I REALLY know it now. The situation with Katie has improved immensely like I always knew it would and she's starting to unlock the potential I've seen in her the last 8 years and watch other guys force her to bury under layers of anxiety, fear, and self-consciousness. I won't get into it too much, but I love her with everything I have. My feelings are absolute and encompass a thesaurus worth of synonyms and antonyms, really just all the ways love can be felt are right here. I'm Catholic. Of course I knew that before, but after some good and calm discussions with the classmates I have, my professor, and taking into account internal and external aspects I'm quite happy I was raised the way I was. To avoid even possibly offending someone I'll stop there. I'm more interested in the things or people or places that I was into before. I've had a bit of a revival in my interest in Led Zeppelin since I got to the UK (okay, more than a bit). There was something about the train trip up the Cambrian Coast and through Snowdonia, as well as being back in London, seeing concert venues and Jimmy Page's house that sort of made it all click again. And Wales was just unreal. I talked about that enough in my last entry, so I'll leave it at that. It was astonishing how perfect it was (yeah, I couldn't resist one last comment). Writing really feels like what I want to do now. I've never been that confident in my stuff, but everyone has responded so well to everything. It's been wonderful. The blog has turned into more than I could have hoped (and thanks for that, everyone), my school papers have gone much better than I expected, and my poems seemed well received at the talent show. It's made me a lot more confident in my abilities and my choice of focus in school. And all of the traveling I've done has led to a lot of inspiration and valuable reflection. It's been invaluable as I knew it would be. Even other things have been solidified in me. I love baseball and can't wait for the season to start (and to follow the awesome World Series match-up! I called it!!!), other sports are so much fun to play and watch, I love history and cultures (noting the similarities in people from place to place has been ace), I really like pizza (especially "American style"), etc. It feels like every little bit of my has become more pronounced and definite. So, if the Geneva people and everyone else meant that I'd be a different person by being exactly and wholeheartedly myself then they were right. The peripheral ideas and values have all solidified and become part of a mosaic of personal human characteristics, the coquina of the soul. The only change is more confidence in myself and my choices and more outward forthrightness as to simply being me. I guess that really is a pretty big change...

London was a lot of fun, again. The highlight was sitting in on The House of Commons at Parliament. It sounds rather boring, but it was incredible. The exchanges got rather heated and they were all British. Enough said there. The Tate Modern Museum was neat, being able to watch soccer matches was premium, etc. It was great to be there and sort of feel like I lived there because I wasn't doing the typical tourist stuff. I guess I'm sort of getting used to London now. OH!!! And they speak English there, which is incredible after 2 months of blurting out incorrect Italian phrases.

I felt like visiting Hastings for a few reasons. The main one was that while Katie and I were in Pittsburgh we say the East Hill Lift featured on one of the bulletin boards. I had to go there.



Also, though, I wanted to see the site of the battle and all of that good, historical stuff that I feel like no one remembers but me. Well, the Gauls picked a pretty good place to attack, let me tell you. There wasn't much there and the people felt like they probably would have been too sluggish to resist. It was neat being in a smaller town, though, and seeing a traditional English fishing village was worthwhile. Of course, whilst there I went for a traditional English seafood meal - Domino's Pizza's two-for-Tuesday deal with pepperoni. I'd recommend going in the summer if anyone wants to visit, because it was so cold and windy. Even the jacket I bought in Wales with an entire lamb inside wasn't enough.

Dublin, well not much to say about Dublin. It was probably my least favorite place that I've been to so far...maybe even including before I came to Europe. I loved the weather there and the chorizo and goat cheese pizza I had. That's about it.

Machynlleth and Barmouth, Wales

Yes, I finally attained my dream. I made it to Wales! It was so exciting I wrote another journal entry and took way too many pictures that people might merely glance through. What I've decided to do is type up the journal entry here and put up the pictures on facebook as usual, but also to do something a little bit special and different (to come soon).

Without further ado, here's the journal I wrote (going from London to Machynlleth and after a day there):

Catching the train at Euston Street I was eager to realize my dreams, but afraid of disappointment. Finally, after 7 or 8 years of hoping, unabashedly rambling to others, and seriously doubting, I was on my way to Wales, Machynlleth to be more precise. Granted, I didn't know much about Mach (let alone how to pronounce the name properly) other than that it was a market town near Snowdonia. I'd read it was a town of no more than 2000 people and even the hostel webpages whose job it is to make you want to visit didn't seem overly enthusiastic about the place. Nearing Birmingham



(where I had to switch trains) my nervousness was on the rise. Everything had been so flat and...not watery that I was scared when I'd return to Rome I'd have no good stories to tell and I'd feel embarrassed about and have to give up my interest in...er, my obsession with Wales and the Welsh (and not to mention wanting to both honeymoon and eventually live there for a few years). I figured my tour of Europe had started with literally and figuratively the highest point when I stood atop Mont Blanc and enjoyed the splendor of the Alps and small-alpine-village and hyphenated charms of Chamonix-Mont-Blanc, France. Everything there was so beyond spectacular that I wasn't sure if anywhere else I went could possibly match up. Anyone that's ever talked to me for more than a couple of minutes has heard about how much I love Wales, or at least the unrealistic screensaver-like images of it I'd seen on the computer. We zoomed past a personal favorite city of mine, Wolverhampton,



and still we hadn't seen much awe inspiring landscape. As we drew nearer to Mach things started to change, though. I began to realize that those screensavers weren't just a handpicked, select few images out of a bunch of pictures someone had taken. All of those places were real and not even all that difficult to find.



My eyes were glued to the window like a little kid his first time time in an airplane or like a dog during a car trip or something else that might be more relevant. The mountains, although not as high as the Alps, were still just as majestic, but in a medieval, fog shrouded peak sort of way. They looked as magical and mysterious as I'd thought they would and the sheep, bovines, and slate-roofed stone houses that dotted their softer, rolling sides added to the feelings of serenity, hope (oddly enough), excitement, and correctness I had started to feel. The sun was barely peeking through the low, dark clouds as the train pulled into Machynlleth Station at quarter till 3. I nearly leapt off the train and instead of going straight to my hostel decided to set a course for a neat looking bridge I'd seen not far outside of "town".



Making my way down the street that led to the footpath I was absolutely astounded by the landscape spread out before me. Everything was different. The colors were different; I'd never seen grass or trees so thoroughly green.



It was a lot like going to the Bahamas or somewhere like that and not being able to stop marveling at how blue and clear the water is. Brown was significantly more dead and brown feeling, probably because of how vibrant the green was. The sounds were so totally different. There weren't human sounds anymore. All I could hear were sheep (they were as far as the eye could see, even up on the craggy peaks and through the valley), the River Dyfi trickling over mossy stones and fallen trees, birds chirping and playing about, the occasional bark of a dog, and the wind. The smells were different. It smelled moist, like going for a walk in the woods after a rain shower (which, I guess is essentially what it was, really). Really, everything felt, looked, and smelled exactly as I'd imagined. I smiled. I walked over near a bridge with a sign next to it that read "Snowdonia National Park (see last post for this picture)" and turned just before it to follow the path along the bank of the River Dyfi.



The water was so peaceful and calm. The wind wasn't so strong and the utterly pastoral nature of where I was took me over. It enveloped me. I got to the bridge I'd seen from the train and walked on the stones underneath it instead of over it at first. Everything was so harmonious. I just sat on a stone for a while and relaxed. A family with a mother and 3 blonde, curly-haired sons walked by, which made me smile.



Naturally, it reminded me of Katie. After a short spell next to the river I thought it worthwhile to pick out the biggest hill I could find and climb it. I had one in mind and it took me across the bridge and up this narrow, windy mountain road. I looked for an access point to start my ascent, but everything was sheep pasture guarded by barbed wire. I made a decision to leap one such fence and start climbing. The trip was arduous to say the least, as the peak appeared much higher than I'd reckoned and up a steeper way. Happily, it had begun to rain a bit, so I wasn't too upset, and each time I turned around to glance down through the valley the climb felt more and more worth it. I reached the top and nearly let out a Bear Grylls scream. The valley and surrounding mountains (some shrouded and dark with rain, others highlighted by the glorious, golden sun) were so gorgeous



and the entire journey sort of symbolized my having climbed a mountain of dreams to reach the summit, the peak of natural joy. I'd never been anywhere so beautiful in my life. I started back down the way I came with a confident step and a smile, so ready to take on all of the challenges, triumphs, pain, sorrows, and joys of the life ahead of me. And thus ended my first in Wales.



Also, I went on a train ride up the Cambrian coast to a beautiful town called Barmouth. It was a coastal village (obviously) nestled into the outcroppings of some mountains. The entirety of it was so picturesque that it was hard to believe. The beach was so soft and I had the entire place to myself aside from the occasional dog owner and best friend. I walked around there for a bit and then found some more hills to climb/trespass on so I could get a better view of the city. I found myself in the company of no one, except for the periodic curious sheep. Once at the top of the hills, the views were fantastic. The vistas along the coast melted away into the battering sea. As usual, words won't do it much justice and I've already put up one journal in this post, so I'll stick to letting the pictures speak for themselves.

Pictures from Machynlleth can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=295984&id=658221001&l=f568526f0c
Pictures from Barmouth can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=296006&id=658221001&l=b49978b29a

I'm Back


I've made it back from Ireland and the UK and pictures are uploading onto the computer. I'm going to do something different since this was a longer trip with more sections (and more journal entries). I'm going to do one post for my first trip to Wales and another for the rest of the break, so be sure to look at both!

Here's a look at where I've been so far:

Friday, October 29, 2010

Break

Hey everyone,

Break has gone really well so far. I'm in Dublin, Ireland right now and return to Rome in the morning. My plan right now is to update everything tomorrow: typing up journal entries, uploading pictures, etc. Keep an eye out! I appreciate the continued views and support!

Diolch yn fawr,

Mike

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Florence and Fall Break


Hey everyone,

Last weekend the entire class went to Florence and stayed for a couple of days. The weather was wonderful. It's finally turning to fall, so it was in the low 60s and rainy. I loved it. Other than that, the city was great. I didn't like it as much as Rome (which is now starting to feel like home...scary), but the smaller size and less hectic lifestyle was refreshing. Some of the art we got to see was magnificent and the landscape was gorgeous. I can't sit here and type all day, though, because I have to get ready for my fall break trip. Also, sorry for the slow posting. It was midterm week and there was suddenly a lot of work to be done and studying to...sort of be done. Because of strikes and rioting new trips had to be planned as well.

As for those new trips the new itinerary looks something like this for fall break (October 21-31)

October 21 - Depart for London-Stansted
October 22 - Depart London Euston Street for Machynlleth, Wales
I cannot wait to do some walking through the mountains in Machynlleth and for any of you that know me well, you should know that Machynlleth is in Snowdonia. It's been my dream to go there for quite some time and I'm beyond excited.
October 23 - Depart Machynlleth for London
October 23-27 - London
During this time, however, I'll also be taking a couple of day trips. I've got a train ticket for Hastings, which I'll probably do the 25th. I also have a Eurostar ticket that I'm going to exchange so that I can go to Edinburgh, which would be fantastic. Hopefully that will work out.
October 28 - Cardiff, Wales
If you're keeping count that's twice to Wales in less than a week. I'm going to get to see both parts of it, which I really like: the industrialized, populated, and busy South and the agrarian, natural, and beautiful North.
October 29-30 Dublin, Ireland
October 30 - Back to Rome.
October 31 - Sleep until the end of time.

There will CERTAINLY be plenty of pictures after this break and I'd reckon if I get the time there will be some good journal entries and stories as well. Hopefully everyone at home is having a good break, enjoying the weather (fall is beautiful, isn't it?), and getting ready to have a nice Halloween. Thanksgiving will be here before you know it and then I'll be back home!

Pictures from Florence can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=292607&id=658221001&l=a49cea0578
Some of them didn't turn out so well because of the fact that in dark churches where you can't use a flash, it's just hard to get a good picture. Also, there are some other random pictures from St. Peter in Chains and Santa Maria Maggiore churches in Rome.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Spain and Portugal

Hola/Ola/Hey everyone. I'm back from Spain and Portugal. It was a hectic weekend for sure and school starts in only a few hours! I'll try to keep things brief aside from copying the bit from my journal.

As for Spain, I'll let the journal do the talking. It might be a little scatterbrained, but I was on a train to Portugal and it was late at night/early in the morning. Hopefully it at least captures some of my feelings:

8/10/10 I figured out the meaning of life today: to love is to live and to be in love with something, animate or not, is to have life. Human love is easy to spot most of the time and the strength of it has become increasingly apparent over the last month or so since I left home. I'll admit that over 20 years I'd become a little complacent in this department and absolutely took my parents' and family's love for granted. This time apart has made me value each and every phone call or skype chat, even the most mundane, and seeing their smiling faces, smiling from being happy to see me too, is really powerful. I miss every little aspect of being home. I miss going out to eat and talking and laughing a bit too loud, playing basketball with my brother, going upstairs to find my mom watching TV on my bed and falling asleep in the corner before she even leaves, waiting for my dad to get home from work before we do anything, him kindling in the chair, the weekends my sister randomly shows up (usually with some guy we all end up liking; I try to tell my parents she's a smart girl), my bed, laying on the couch watching sports, especially now I miss watching hockey every night, planning my Saturdays around college football, and ordering pizza to stay up way too late watching October baseball. I miss going to my brother's baseball games, playing catch with him and my dad in the highway that is the road in front of our house, complaining about whatever my mom has cooked but always liking it anyway, my bed (again), and this time of year going to the pumpkin patch and finding slim pickings, going on hay rides even though I'm allergic, drinking warm apple cider even though I don't like it, the weather turning crisp like the dead leaves that fall from the trees so I can pick out the especially crunchy ones to step on, rain, telling my dad I'll carve my own pumpkin and explaining to him exactly what I want then leaving after we've pulled the guts out and always getting the perfect jack-o-lantern anyway, taking my brother trick-or-treating and "dressing up" as whatever I was wearing that day because I get jealous at his sugary bounty, trading him some of my nastier candy for all of the sweet-tarts, and getting the fall and winter clothes out from the attic crawl space. I love all of that. I miss the daily rain in Beaver Falls, watching Grandma Donna decorate her concrete pig like a ghost and grandpap telling her she's stupid because she decorates for Halloween and autumn until winter, the cute Halloween cards I get from Grandma Pauline, Grandma Donna saying we need to stay up to see the Great Pumpkin, looking forward to Thanksgiving and then the Christmas season, etc. Those are the types of things that make me love and miss my family and because of my love for them I have a love for home I can't quantify and unfortunately am only now coming to realize. They aren't the only people I miss, though, and not the only things either. I've known about both my love for nature and my love for music for quite some time. My love for nature and its perfect beauty, tranquility, and peace are factors in my general dislike for people. Today in Madrid, though, I found a gorgeous place to sit on a perfect Western European fall day.
In the shade of a row of trees and beside a lake with an artificial waterfall I watched people feeding fish, the ducks butting in to steal some of the fish food, some kids playing with their parents (which made me miss and love mine even more, all the memories), and the street musicians. The atmosphere of the natural sounds (including the waterfall), the din of the pathway, and the young man seated on a bench across from me playing guitar and singing his lungs out was so entrancing. The slight breeze and the sound of deadened leaves rustling, falling, and being stepped on combined with the aforementioned to give me goosebumps. Surely no love could be greater than this idyllic setting. One great love, though, I found, always must supplant another (or others, like in this case both nature and music). The second the young man began playing The Beatles (whom I still don't love, it's important to note) my mind instantaneously went to Katie. Almost everything I do my mind goes there and being away from her has already been impossibly hard, but at that moment our love seemed so perfect and wonderful that, despite my devotion and feelings toward the place I sat and the beautiful day I sat there, it all faded away and I was alone in an opaque and empty, formless space, almost weeping. Knowing that my loves are often our loves is, to try to assign a useless word to it, so powerful and wonderful. Knowing that she would have been similarly moved by where I sat, I longed for her to be sitting there with me. Looking up and watching the excited and sometimes overzealous Spaniards holding hands, kissing, and laying at picnics near the water made my entire being sink. I had to go. A few hundred yards away it was quiet and, as silly as it sounds, I could feel her with me. Maybe she was thinking of me at the same time? I saw a stray cat sleeping next to a tree and thought of how it'd make her smile. The cat awoke and stretched then began to preen its fur coat. It felt symbolic. I felt that maybe at that moment miles and miles and an ocean away Katie was waking up and thinking about me as deeply as I was thinking about her and as that cat got up to walk into the bushes I thought that she was telling me not to worry and to enjoy my day. I tried to, but all the while I was being torn apart inside. It made me think that the moment I see her again in person will be one of the most special moments of my life. I'm more than looking forward to it and wish that instead of sitting and waiting to board a train to Portugal I was waiting for my flight back to her arms and into the warmth of her smile (this is where the train came, by the way). As a change of pace and to get my mind off of things I stopped to watch some other street performers and that's when this whole notion hit me. I know some people have jobs that they might not enjoy, but typically they're doing it to support the ones they love (and this makes me think how much I want a family to work for and support, but that'd probably take up another one of these journals). Looking at artwork today at Museo del Prado I was awestruck by the amount of passion that had gone into each work, and there was a museum full of them, there are museums full of them, and many are as or more in love with creating art but are undiscovered. Watching the musicians play at the side of the road, in the metro stations, and in the plazas their passion is obvious. They play beautiful music and are so talented and are relegated to the fringes hoping to scrape together a few bucks, but they still play. Why? In many cases they are the undiscovered and I know countless more are too afraid to get out there and do it. Sitting in airports and train stations, on planes, buses, and trains, and going on tours the passion people have to go out and explore their world is fantastic and so many more explore the same sights I'm visiting everyday in books or on the internet, but can't afford to go themselves or haven't been blessed enough to go yet. Having played sports and knowing the passion involved it makes me happy to watch people be able to play a game, the one they love, for a living and I know so many more kick a ball around the park, throw the ball with their dad and brother, and play endlessly just for fun. People all around me are doing what they love, are where they love, or are with the ones they love and it's starting to renew my faith in people. Even being around Geneva kids and hearing about their intense blind love and faith has started to make me happy. Now that I've been a few places and can somewhat comment on "people around the world" I've begun to believe that people are generally very good and, despite either minor or very massive differences of opinion, they'll always follow or strive for what they love. I can relate to that and respect it. It's been said that to love is to know pain (or something like that) and I've found that to unfortunately be too true. At that moment you miss someone or something you think the world has crumbled around you and nothing can replace it, but it must be said that to love is to live and have something to live for. It's true that nothing can replace the ones or the things you love, but that's because to love is to join the human race, to step down off the pedestal and join in. To love is to know true happiness and that happiness is far greater than the pain of loss. And I'm starting to think no loss is permanent. If you believe hard enough (whether you're a "believer" or not) you'll be eternally happy, because your passion or your love will always be right there with you where it (the object), he, or she belongs. Everything my family is doing at home and going through, everything I miss with them or with playing guitar or games or sports, Katie...it's all right here. It's what makes me who I am and no matter where I go, near or far, my passions are blowing in the wind, strumming in the park, on the computer screen on my desk, and in nothingness or its opposite, always on my mind. I'm a human and I'm amongst so many others living out their dreams or passions, being alive.

In there I described a bit of the scenery, which was gorgeous I must say, but the lot of my time there was consumed by those thoughts. It was a frenetic day.

Then I went on to Portugal. The train ride to get there was forever and the rain was apocalyptic, but once I arrived it all died down and faded away. I went on a tour around the city with a group of five others (the majority of whom were English, which made it all the better). The sights were fantastic and the guide treated it more as a friendly-show-you-around sort of thing than a tour. Combining my love of nature and music again, the tour guide asked if anyone had an iPod to hook up. I got to cruise the vistas and enjoy the locality like a local while listening to Led Zeppelin, Guthrie Govan, Pink Floyd, The Clash and Manic Street Preachers! Everyone else on the tour loved my taste in music and to have the soundtrack of my life playing whilst touring such a beautiful place, incredible. The food was beyond words and so was the beach. I've only seen waves so big once before and there was a hurricane involved that time. Cabo da Roca had some of the best and most dramatic seaside views I've ever seen and it was neat going to the most western point of Europe.
The hostel was impeccable and all in all I had a wonderful time. I felt strangely at home in Portugal as its pace of life was slower, the people were friendlier, and it had all of the castles, hills and mountains, good food, seaside, and rural countryside I could want. And that was just around Lisbon! I didn't write in my journal in Portugal, but I did take plenty of pictures both places:



Thursday, October 7, 2010

This Weekend's Trip

I'm packing as I type for my trip to Madrid, Spain and Lisbon, Portugal. I haven't got many plans, so what you'll see are the wanderings of a young man around a couple of foreign countries. I'm happy to be going to Spain, as I know a good deal more Spanish than Italian (and French). I'll certainly be putting up pictures and a good description of the whole thing once I get back. I'm taking my journal and camera both, I promise. I wish everyone a good weekend and my thoughts, despite the grand trip, are back home with everyone there. God bless.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Switzerland/France

Bonjour! I've returned from my trip to Switzerland (and France snuck in there as well) much more enlightened as to how this whole European tour is going to work and the wonders that are in store. Getting through the airports wasn't as difficult as I'd feared. In fact, the only troubles I had were initially finding my hostel (until I worked up the courage to ask a Swiss girl in French if she spoke English, which she did! She was very nice and walked me all the way to the hostel while we talked about PITTSBURGH PENGUINS HOCKEY of all things!), understanding the routing of the buses and knowing where to catch the buses I needed, and money. Since this was my first trip I wasn't so sure of how the money would work other places. One issue was that instead of using euros they used Swiss francs. More pressing, however, was that fact that everything was massively expensive. I went to McDonald's one night because I thought (correctly) that it'd be the cheapest place in town to eat. I ordered off of the l'petit menu, getting two cheeseburgers, a snack wrap, and a small tea. It ended up costing me the equivalent of $12. The guy in front of me spent $41 for dinner...at McDonald's! Also, the tour I went on on Saturday was a pretty penny, but more than worth it.

One of the best things I did was take a cable car to the top of Mont Saleve. It was a wonderful view over the city and lake, but was also affordable, took me into France (on foot no less!) and allowed me to experience a bit of small town Swiss/French culture, which was quite lovely. Stopping in at the mom and pop grocery to buy a tea was "cute" as the girls like to say. I didn't have much time up there (I got there around 5 and the last cable car down was at 6), but once at the top, not only did I have that view of Geneva, but after walking through some fields...well, I'll copy the entry I wrote in my journal:

Today was my first day in a completely foreign country completely alone. I'm happy to report it went rather well. Aside from issues getting to the hostel last night and initial confusion regarding the bus system I've gotten around fairly competently in a French-speaking area. Similarly comforting is the fact that if I'm having trouble almost everyone can speak a helpful amount of English. I essentially wandered from noon until around three, just stopping anywhere that looked or felt interesting, walking along the lake, traversing a number of parks, and getting lost a bit. After that all wore thin I looked for a #8 bus (which proved to be quite difficult), because I had a destination in mind. Following a lengthy bus ride I walked across the border into France. I could see where I wanted to go, but getting there took a bit of effort (and walking along a freeway for a time). Eventually, I came to Telepherique Saleve. The slope of the cable car track was massive and somewhat frightening, if I'm honest. I walked in and bought a reduced price ticket (maybe school does pay?). To my disappointment I was told that the last return journey was in only an hour. Ears popping, I snapped plenty of pictures of Geneve and the ever-nearing mountainside. I felt like Saleve was gigantic and couldn't believe I was atop it looking out over Geneve, Lac Leman, and what I took to be the most stunning, biggest, and most imposing mountains ever. Both because of the altitude and the view's beauty my breath was taken away. Some other people were eating at an outdoor cafe below the overlook I had perched myself on and still more, a couple hand-in-hand, began walking down a path to a different overlook. I thought to follow them down that way to get a different angle for my shots of the lake. Gazing beyond the pair, an open field with wildflowers came into view. I was struck by its beauty, surpassed the lovers, and knelt down to take in the aroma of the clearing's seemingly paramount gifts and to take close-up stills of them. I got the amount of pictures I'd wanted and stood to head back to the cable car, not wanting to stray far in the rural and unfamiliar treasure trove. Out of the corner of my eye then, something white showed itself. I turned to my right and was nearly knocked off my feet by what I'd almost overlooked completely. Spread out before me, the Alps opened their snow-covered arms inviting me nearer. Glancing at my phone I noticed I only had 20 more minutes if I didn't want to be stuck on a mountain for the night. I took off across the field, tearing by picnic tables and barbecue pits. I came to another clearing where even more of the peaks had given up trying to stay hidden. I grinned, used my trigger finger on camera button, and felt high as the mountains I stared in wonder and amazement at. I meandered down through some trampled brush to get yet another angle for jealousy-makers when another path appeared. Feeling that I might be able to get beyond the trees I ran through the forest, not even taking a step as I slid with loose rocks down a comparably tiny, but still rather large hill into another field. I noticed an electric fence on a hill that grew ahead of me and wondered what might be held there. Curiously, I approached the fence and spotted a few horses grazing. The scene was idyllic and utterly relaxing with flicking tails, the occasional bellow, and a valley spreading out behind them as far as I could see. Peering to my right once more I noticed the mountains had grown and become more numerous. Intrigued, I followed the outside of the fence until I came to a road marked by a hairpin corner. I walked down the road and instead of rounding the corner, went straight, ducking under a barbed wire fence whose purpose I never discovered. After pushing aside a few pine branches another clearing appeared and this is when I saw the roof of Europe.

About that tour then, yeah? I took a very touristy bus day trip from Geneva to Chamonix-Mont-Blanc, France and actually went atop the mountains that had so enamored me the day before. I basically can't even describe what I saw so pictures will have to do. Sorry.

Pictures from my Geneva/Chamonix-Mont-Blanc experience can be found here: