Things I've learnt whilst travelling

Inspired (a much better adjective than "stolen") by MacDoogs's post (you post chola-brows photos of me, I call you MacDoogs on my blog :P), I decided to share a few things I have learnt in the past few months. Or as many things as I could think of on my train trip this morning.

• Don't listen to people who tell you that it's better to use a backpack for travelling around Europe. "Think about lugging a suitcase over all those cobblestones, Sarah," they said. "Think about all the stairs at trainstations." Well, you know what? They LIED. Cobblestones? Pssht. Your suitcase will just bump a little, and cobblestones aren't the Big Bad that people make out. And stairs? This isn't the Middle Ages. We have things called elecators now. And for those very rare occassions where the left isn't working or there isn't one, there's usually someone nice enough to give you a hand. Trust me. Dragging something along behind you is SO MUCH easier than hefting the weirght of that thing onto your shoulders. Not to mention the inconvenience of packpacks whilst riding a train and having to take up a seat with it. Maybe it's fine for travelling around Asia or South America, but it's not necessary for Europe.
• If you refuse to take my advice re. Backpacks, make sure you ignore your inner Scrooge (a relevant example given that I've just opened my second door on my Advent calendar) and go out and buy a good one and have it properly fitted. I went and looked at some backpacks, saw the $500 pricetag and ran straight back out. I used my brother's one. Good work. Yes, I kept my $500, but were the brised shoulders, sore back and bracing pain worth it? Essentially, you're carrying the next few months of your life on your back - even hobos use a trolley. I'm just saying.
• August is not a good time to visit Italy. You will develop a dirty, dirty tan, eat too much gelato in an attempt to cool your body down (although, whether such a thing as "too much gelato" exists is up for debate), and you will sweat profusely. Your photos will look like crap (and don't lie - we all know how important photos are), and you will end each day absolutely buggered. Plus, it's Europe: they're not so big on that crazy new-fangled invention called, "air-conditioning." Fools.
• You are never going to read those stupid guide books that you buy from every house/museum/castle you visited. Never. And you will have to spend a lot of money sending them home. You're an idiot.
• Just because your camera was under $200 and pink, doesn't mean it's going to be a good camera. Actually, because your camera was under $200 and pink it is not going to be good, regardless of the amount of megapixels. But you can always console yourself with the fact that you have a fabulous pink camera. Imagine if you'd bought it in silver - then where would you be??
• Bad idea: becoming friends with people in your hostel room. You don't actually have to become friends with the people in your hostel room. In fact, don't even bother being polite. The majority of the time it will result in you going laces your don't want to go, staying out later than you wanted (Sarah is great fun drunk at 3 am, not so much fun at 5 am when she has a flight to catch), and finding yourself in awkward situations. Because you are then stuck with them for them for the next however many hours or days. AWKWARD. (NB. It sometimes works out for the best and you have an amazing time and make some awesome friends. Risky though.)
• Meeting people in the breakfast room is actually a great idea. Nothing beats bonding over a shitty meal and crappy coffee.
• Don't try and be smart - take the bus that everyone else is taking. Even if you are starving and need to pee. Otherwise you might get stranded at a (most likely) haunted concentration camp in sub-zero weather in Eastern Europe. I'm just saying.
• Don't say the word "bitch" in a Dortmund nightclub as it will seem like an open invitation for some random to come up and tell you off about how you shouldn't say that word in Dortmund and blah blah and why is she even listening in to my conversation in the first place? Bitch.
• Take you umbrella everywhere. Leaving your umbrella in your hostel in LONDON is a STUPID IDEA. What is the one guarantee in the UK? It's going to bloody rain. And you will get caught in that rain so you need to take your umbrella everywhere. Otherwise you will end up forking out your precious money on a rain poncho from a tourist shop. And you will look ridiculous.
• Don't buy a travel rain poncho. Seriously. You wouldn't wear it at home, why would you wear it overseas? And then don't leave the already bought poncho in your hostel room next to your umbrella when you're in London. Idiot.

That's it for now.

WEIHNACHTSMARKTS!!!!

So ever since Chicago I've been obsessed with Christmas Markets. I had never heard of these before but Chicago had one set up and all my German friends were like, "Yeah, Christmas Markets. That's normal."

No, that's freaking WONDERFUL.

The other day I had a forty minute wait between trains at Bochum. Rather than wander the train station aimlessly I decided to head into town and grab a billion dollar Starbucks coffee. What a fabulous surprise when I rounded the corner and in front of the Starbucks was this:

Spotto.

It was absolutely magical, especially at dusk with everything lit up. I bought myself some caramelised peanuts, was overwhelmed with the smell of pflammkuchen, crepes, and bratwurst cooking, and had to restrain myself from buying all the hand crafted goodies.

Then yesterday I met up with my friend Kate for lunch in Dortmund and we wandered along the markets there.

This is part of a display of fairytale characters for the children to enjoy. All I want to know is, what does Dortmund have against children???? This display was the creepiest thing I've seen in a long time. The girl that you can only partly see had her eyes closed and was all freaky looking, complete with a rising and falling mechanised chest. (See if you can notice it in the (shoddy) video below.) You can see how this is the country that produced writers like the Brothers Grimm.

And of course, it wouldn't be a Weihnachtsmarkt without the gluhwein!!!

Excuse us for looking sheisse - it had been pouring all day... also, don't judge, y'all!

Gluhwein is basically spiced, warm wine, perfect for freezing days. It's served boiling hot and when it's snowing the top exposed liquid gets cooled enough for you to drink but the rest of the cup is kept warm for your hands. They also come in these cute little Christmas Market booties. I plan on collecting one from each of the weinachtsmarkts I visit to add to my lonely little Chicago bootie, and trust me, there are plenty more to come.

So Fairies DO Exist?? And Travel Disappointments

I just gots me mah scholarship moneyz!! Woop woop! Is it wrong that the first thing I'm going to do is buy this gorgeous pair of shoes that I saw last week and was desperate to have? Yes. Actually, first I'm putting a tonne of money on my credit card. Well, I don't think I've put the amount on there of what I've actually spent on my card in the last few weeks (travel expenses, presents for people, castle souvenirs...), but I don't want to not be able to travel towards the end. A girl's gotta save her money.

Plus, Rachel's coming this weekend and on Monday we're going to go to Oberhausen, home of Centro, the biggest shopping mall in Europe. :) Naughty.

Plus I'm planning a bunch of trips:
Friday 11th to Monday 14th December - Amsterdam
Monday 14th to Thursday 17th December - Belgium (pretty much so I can go to Bruges and say, "It's a fucking fairytale. It's a shame it's in Belgium...")
Sunday 20th to 23rd December - Prague
Sunday 26th/27th (not sure which yet) to 4th January - Italy (Venice, Trieste, and somewhere else, not sure yet)

That's what I've got so far. Lara and I are planning a day trip to Hamburg in January sometime, and Lara's coming with me for the weekend when I go to London at the end of this trip.

BUT, for all the things that have gone well, there have been some big travel disappointments. The main one is Ukraine. I have wanted to go to Ukraine since I first met my friend Natalia in the US. Natalia lives in Stuttgart but grew up in Ukraine and told me how wonderful it is and I was hooked. This was only intensified when I watched Long Way Round:



Doesn't it seem AWESOME??!!! I think the guy bringing out the machine gun solidified my desperate need to go. "Usually people bring a coffee, he brought a fucking machine gun!"

So imagine Rachel's and my elation when we discovered I could fly from Dortmund to Kiev for about AU$60 return. We almost booked straight away. Luckily Rachel checked her Lonely Planet guide and discovered we'd need visas to go there. What? Basically the only countries in the world that need a visa are Australia and New Zealand, the two countries we just happen to be from. Racism, much? I mean, they even let Mongolians in visa free. MONGOLIANS??? You'd prefer Mongolians to Australians?? What, is my dollar not good enough for you? Or you know, I could get a visa but I'd have to forfeit my passport for however many days it takes to process, and I'd have to pay to have it done, and I may not even be able to do it because I may or may not need a letter of invitation from a travel agent over there. Is Ukraine worth it? Once upon a time I would have said yes, now I think it's too much hassle.

So here's the plan: AUSTRALIANS, we must BOYCOTT UKRAINE!!! This is a call to arms and it will be easily enough done, what with us not being able to go there anyway. Seriously, I feel so hard done by. Now I know how the _[insert some maligned people here]_ felt.

My other travel disappointment: possible not being able to go to the Nuremburg Kristkindlmarkt. We had found this bus doing a day trip there but it won't be possible for us to get to this bus. We could take a train, but that would cost about, oh, 180 euros. Yeah, no. So I don't think it's going to happen which is so bad because I was hoping to meet up with Judith and Natalia there. But we'll just have to find some other time to meet up.

My other travel disappointment really stems from the fact that I realised I only have 3 more free weekends in which to actually travel, and these are all in January. I'm thinking of going to Budapest on one of the weekends because I found some cheap flights there. One place I really wanted to go while I was here was Mont St. Michele in France but I just don't see how I'll be able to get there, or once I get to the area, how I'd get around without a car. It's just not going to happen.

But I'm also not sure where else I want to go while I'm here. There are so many places I want to see that I'm struggling to decide on any. So make me a suggestion!

Judith, Schloss Neuschwanstein and I

So straight after uni on Friday I hopped on a train to Munich to visit Judith. Or actually, I hopped on FOUR trains. Which I don't normally mind, except when it's dark and freezing (possibly literally) and you have to wait in the dark, freezing cold for the next train to arrive. But eventually I arrived at München Hauptbahnhof at almost midnight to find Judith there in the cold waiting for me - that's love! She looks exactly the same as she did when I left her on a teary day in May, 2007, just with shorter hair. And she's exactly the same too, in a good way. It was like no time had passed. Unfortunately, our friend Natalia couldn't make the weekend, otherwise it would have been a big au pair reunion, but we made the most of it anyway. (We are FABULOUS company!)

Saturday morning started out nice and lazy, but we both woke up with massive headaches. Judith informed me all about föhn, where the winds change or something (let Wiki tell you all about it) and how she thought that's why we were both in pain, but some coffee and headache tablets and we were right as rain. We had a massive breakfast, walked through the area near her house where the Olympic stadium is and grabbed some Starbucks like old times. Lattes, of course, but not ventis because just a tall latte in Starbucks in Germany is 4 euros, and these are tough economic times!

We then took our lattes to the Englischer Garten and took advantage of the beautiful weather by just wandering around and eating bratwurst mit semmel (not brötchen in Bavaria - and it means bread roll).

Oh, and by the way, beautiful weather just means sunny - it was still heaps cold!

That's the Felderrnhalle where Hitler made one of his way famous speeches. Such a nice square with such an infamous legacy. We saw a whole bunch of other stuff, and may I just add that Munich is gorgeous. Check out the photos linked at the start of this post for evidence.

That evening we topped off a fabulous day with dinner at the Löwenbräu Keller, which featured heavily at my farewell, which feels like a million years ago now. Oh, and we've all been pronouncing it wrong. It's actually pronounced "Loovenbroy". Just doesn't roll off your tongue as well as "Low-en-brow" - less bogan is sometimes less fun.

The next day. We used up all our good weather bonus points because it decided to rain for the rest of my stay. Judith knew the way to my heart and took me to Schwangau, the home of my castle. But first, did you know there's actually TWO castles there? Always overshadowed by my future home, Schloss Hohenschwangau is a gorgeous fortress-style castle built by Maximillian, Ludwig II's daddy. It's really beautiful inside, although it is a little show-offy with all the king's birthday presents on display. We get it, you had friends that gave you better presents than candles and soap. But did they send you a box of Tim Tams like Emma sent me? I think you will find that my friends beat your friends. Ner ner.

But Schloss Hohenschwangau is just there to whet your castle apetite, because after a horse and carriage ride up one very steep hill I finally set eyes on my baby:

Schloss Neuschwanstein!!!!!!!!!! That's a picture of me exploding. I must have embarrassed Judith greatly with all of my squealing and, "I can't believe I'm actually looking at it and it's not a picture"s. See, I don't even realise that I'm standing next to two horses, I'm that excited.

We wandered around inside and I considered the remodelling job that's ahead of me. You know, only 17 rooms of the castle were finished before Ludwig II was declared insane (which he really wasn't - they did it because his grand vision of all these fairytale castles had sent the country into massive debt) and de-throned.

Here's Judith and I in front of the castle. Let this be a lesson for you: never rely on others to take important photos for you. Why the eff would we ask someone to take our photo standing in front of the castle if we didn't want the castle to be properly in the picture. Use your brains, random people that were at Neuschwanstein on Sunday!

Another of the castle. So. Bloody. Impressive. Seriously, it is just as amazing in reality as the photos make it seem.

And one last one from the car on the way home. I'm so glad the weather cleared up in the afternoon so we could actually see a bit of it from down the hill.

So to sum this weekend up in one word: fabulous! So glad to see Judith again, and glad that it feels like no time has passed, and I'm glad that I can finally begin my plans to get my castle ready for when I eventually move in.

Oh, and people think I'm joking about this. I am ALL of the serious.

Germania Müsik

So I've been meaning to do one of these posts for ages, and seeing as I've wanted to do it for so long a lot of these songs are outdated. But I don't care.

So, German music is a lot of fun. And would you believe that there's more to it than Ramstein's "Du, du hast, do hast mich," the Schnappi song (although, that song is a bloody classic) and 99 Luftballoons? I know. So here's a selection of songs I've been singing along to. Obviously not singing actual words because I can only pick out randoms, but it's probably better for society if I don't sing anyway...

Alles Kann Besser Werden, by Xavier Naidoo



Ich War Noch Niemals in New York, Sportfreunde Stiller



Das Geht Ab, Frauenarzt & Manny Marc (this one just cracks me up)



Stadt, Cassandra Steen (this isn't the film clip because I can't imbed the proper clip. But clicky here and you can see it)



That's all I can think of at the moment. There's a bunch more but I can't remember them right now... But enjoy.

What is this - Eastern Europe??

So I spent this past weekend in Krakow. :) With Rachel. And it was FABULOUS!

I arrived on Thursday afternoon at Krakow Airport and exchanged some money (so frustrating - everyone just move to the Euro!), trying to figure out how I'd get into town to my hostel when I heard, "Sarah!" I can't even convey how awesome it was to see Rachel at the airport. She'd come to pick me up and wanted to surprise me, which she definately did. It was so good to see her again and it was like no time had passed, even though the last time I saw her was at the beginning of May.

So we caught the bus back to our hostel and went to go see some of Krakow. We didn't get to see very much. Not because of my blindness (though that really didn't help me), but because even though it was 4:30pm it was pitch black. It felt like it was at least 8pm and we were looking for restaurants for dinner before realising what time it was. Woops.

Anyway, things that are awesome about Krakow:

It is stunningly beautiful. It's a little bit Paris and a little bit Florence and it has so much history.

It's hard to decide what my favourite things were - the food, the buildings, or the dragon. Yes, the dragon. There's this legend that there was a dragon in a cave under Wawel Castle and it was terrorising (yes) the locals. Then a lowly cobbler volunteered his services and using his brains because he lacked the braun of the sword-weilding knights that had preceeded him, killed the dragon by tricking him into eating a sheep stuffed with tar and sulfur. The dragon, his stomach feeling like it was on fire, ran to this river:

So then, the dragon drank and drank and drank... until he exploded. Pop!

And that was the end of the dragon.

Oh, and did I mention yet that Rachel and I totally slayed one too?

Or at least, had a dragon come up to us we would have been prepared fo sho.

Other things I liked about Krakow: how much they love John Paul II. I get it, right, he's Polish? Yeah? And he's all over the city. Rach and I saw one girl praying (and crying!) to a relief of JPII on the wall of the Dom late one night (actually, it was 8:30pm, but it was so dark it felt like 1am), there were several statues and pictures of him throughout the city, and there's even a banner outside a house that he lived in back in the day when he was a priest:

Actually, the building was on a really cool street, allegedly Krakow's oldest street, dating from the Middle Ages. I dunno though - it was pretty and all, but it seemed a bit new for Middle Ages, and considering the fact that Poland was pretty much flattened during WWII... but who am I to argue with the guidebook?

You can't visit Krakow without making a trip out to Auschwitz. I think it's really important to visit places like this. I'd already gone to Sachsenhausen when I went to Berlin, so I knew what I was in for. It's still so depressing though.

We also went to Birkenau, but because of the timing and everything we basically had 20 minutes there. So not enough. And because it was very dark and cold, we basically had a look at the train tracks and the bookstore.

Then the real adventure began. We took the last bus back to Auschwitz and it was packed. Sardines, man. Then everyone from that bus stood waiting for the bus from Auschwitz to Krakow. By this stage Rachel and I were tired and hungry, and deciding we would never all fit onto that bus, and seeing that there was another bus an hour later at 6:20, we decided to head across the road and have dinner. Gosh we are full of awesome.

Tummies full of borscht and pizza, and patting ourselves on the back for our brilliance, we stood waiting in the dark for the bus. The bus that never came. With no idea of what to do we asked for help from the man at the gate of Auschwitz, which was now completely deserted except for him, a whole lot of fog, and a bunch of ghosts I'm sure. He told us there was a bus at 7:30. We decided we didn't believe him on account of a particular bus that was supposed to arrive at 6:20 that never did. After wondering what to do for what seemed like forever (it could have been 2 minutes, but 2 minutes in minus weather is a very long time), we headed to the hotel across the road and asked them if they knew anything about a way to get home. Luckily for us the man on the desk was lovely and looked up the train timetables and told us how to get there. It was only a 20 minute walk away. Oh good? We also might be able to find a bus back from the bus station which was at the end of the road on the way there.

So we left the hotel and started heading into the mist. We had noticed two guys talking to each other on the other side of the road, but when we walked past one of them broke away and started walking behind us. When he started saying something I kind of maybe freaked out and Rachel and I started walking faster to put some distance behind us. Anyway, long story short (and we all know I have trouble achieving that), we eventually "lost" them when we made it to the bus station. I'm sure they were perfectly respectable boys who just wanted to know directions to something, or were asking for a light, but it was dark, they had obviously heard us speaking English and knew we wouldn't understand them, and it was cold and we were very worried we wouldn't be getting home that night. So we were really freaked out by this incident.

Anyway, bus station = no more buses that night. In fact, I think that 6:20 bus left from the bus station, not from the bus stop at Auschwitz. If that was the case, A LITTLE FREAKING SIGNAGE WOULDN'T GO ASTRAY. (Wow, it's a lot of effort to do Kanye West capslock.) Eventually we made it to the train station with me saying the entire time, "Are you sure this is the right way? Shouldn't we be there by now?" Poor Rachel. But it's her own fault, what with being blessed with the ability to read a map. We waited another 40 minutes for a train and made it back to the hostel by 10:30. By this time all thoughts of a big night out went out the window, and we had a lovely night of nanna-age watching Seventeen Again. (Which, I might add, is surprisingly HILLARIOUS! Wow. I actually rate Zack Efron. Something is not right.)

Sunday was spent wandering the town because we had booked our trip to coincide with bloody November 1st, All Saints' Day. Seriously, the airline should have warned me when I booked my dates and said, "Are you sure? Cos on Sunday EVERYTHING will be closed." Grrr. At least pubs, restaurants and cafes were open. Which meant that we got to drink the world's best hot chocolate at Nowa Prowincja (basically just melted chocolate. Epic WIN), have a couple of tatankas, which is a Polish drink consisting of Żubrówka, which is vodka made of bison grass, and apple juice (YUM), have some nasty Polish beer, and eat again at the restaurant we ate at on our first night with the best barszcz (beetroot soup with dumplings) I've ever tasted. Ok, so it was the only barszcz I've ever tasted, but it was amazing! I hate beetroot, but I love this.

So that's pretty much our weekend. If you want to see all the photos they can be found here. Next stop - MUNICH on Friday. Aaaah yeah.

Ooooh yeah!

So tomorrow (TOMORROW!) I'm off to see Krakow and to see Rachel!

This photo is from a year ago. That was the most recent

(half decent, not drunk yet) photo of the two of us I could

find. Must remedy that this weekend.

I have not seen this girl since May because the mole has been getting her tourist-on across SE Asia. You can read all about it if you click on the link on the side bar. Her's is the one entitled "Rachel's Travel Blog" incase you're having difficulty with that whole connecting-words-to-concepts thing. I know I've been having a massive problem with that lately. Thinking hurts.

So when I say I'm going to "see" Rachel and Krakow, I should mention that I will see vague shapes. I currently have an eye infection (you know, because suffering from death wasn't enough, let's just throw in BLINDNESS) so I can't wear my contacts. And my glasses prescription is either from highschool or from that year I thought I'd give TAFE a go. Either way, it's bloody old. It's never been an issue before because I only wear my glasses for that hour before bed once a month when I actually take my contacts out to replace them the next morning. But now for two weeks I shall be blind, and I think all this straining of my eyes will make them worse. Win.

But I'm sure being blind to begin with will make it seem not so bad when I'm blind after all the Polish vodka I will be drinking...

WoopWoop!!

Update on yesterday's post: it's all systems are GO for München on the 7th November with Judith. So excited!

Also, Rachel's coming to visit me on 14th November. Oh my gosh. I cannot wait!

I'm seriously all of the exciteds right now. No one else in the world can be feeling this emotion because I'm using it all up.

Also going to see Eskimo Joe with my Dortmund Double and one of my friends tomorrow night. Have I mentioned the Dortmund Double programme yet? Basically students at the uni who have been on an exchange, are going, or just have an interest in meeting some American students volunteer to be partnered up with one of the US exchange students. I'm included in this group because there's no programme for Australian exchange students going overseas. In the US they have ISEP, in Europe they have Erasmus. For Aussies they have nothing. So anyway, I have two Dortmund Doubles, Mareike and Helene, who I met for the first time last week. Basically they system works like built-in friends at the uni. Mareike lived in Brisbane for a year studying English and became a big Eskimo Joe fan and heard they were playing in Düsseldorf so she asked if I wanted to come along. Hells yes I wanted to come along! So we're going tomorrow night.

Way to piss me off

So my mum just called me. I haven't heard from her in about a month, and before that the only times I'd heard from her is when I called her (several $500 phone bills later...). We parted on very angry terms when we last spoke, in that I was having trouble hearing her on my tenuous skype connection and so I asked her to call me instead and she said she would. Except she didn't. I waited by the phone all freaking afternoon and she didn't call. And I hadn't heard from her since.

Then just now, at 11:30pm I get a call and it's her, like nothing's happened. Oh, except for the fact that I decided that I was done with you, although you didn't know it because YOU NEVER CALLED ME. (Oh, and it's not the phone call (or lack of one) that made me decide that emancipation was healthier - it's been one thing after another on this trip (and in life) and I'm kind of done with everything.)

Anyway, what has this got to do with travel? Nothing at all. It should probably be on my other blog.

Oh wait, I know what this has to do with. Calling me on a day when I'm sick (it's probably death. You know how it is), when I'm staying up late in order to call Centrelink as soon as they open because they've cut off my payments, yet again, and when I'm so cranky because I STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN MY SCHOLARSHIP MONEY.

First things first:

Centrelink: reason for cutting me off: "Your Youth Allowance has been stopped because our records show you are still overseas." How fucking observant of you, Centrelink. Because, you know, that hour and a half I spent in the Centrelink office (not including waiting time) before I left to come here, filling in forms and providing proof of my exchange, obviously was just for fun. I wanted to just steal all of your money (which I'm pretty sure I've paid in tax anyway) so I could go on a holiday and disguise it as a learning experience. Which is true, but I'm still entitled to that money, and I was counting on it for things like, you know, food. And when I called a few minutes ago my crappy skype was being... crappy... and it was hard to hear the woman in the call centre, but basically all she said was she'll email the Baulko office to follow it up. I'm going to be eating dog food, I can see it now.

Second:

Scholarship money: WHERE IS IT??? It's after the 15th now. In fact, in Australia it is the 19th (which it will also be in Germany in about 10 mins). Where's my money, bitch? Argh. Is tomorrow too soon to send another email asking where the money is? Here is the correspondence so far - note the dates:

27/08/2009 2:53 > pm >>>>
Dear Sarah and Steve,>
Education Australia Limited is delighted to be able to offer Sarah an
IDP Student Mobility Scholarship as detailed in the attached letter. Funds
have been transferred to The University of Newcastle who in turn will
arrange payment to yourself Sarah for this scholarship.

28/08/2009 3:06 pm >>>
Excellent! Is there anything I need to do?
Cheers, Sarah

August 28, 2009 5:32 pm
It is great news!I already have your details from the Travel Grant,
so we will pay you within the next couple of weeks.
Cheers Steve

19/09/2009 3:23 pm >>>
Hi Steve,Sorry to be a nag but I was just wondering when the scholarship
money would be sent through? I just wanted to book some things. No rush
though.
Cheers,
Sarah

September 25, 2009 11:12 am
No worries Sarah,
We will be processing the payment after the 15 October. This is the next
time Grants/Scholarships are put through the system.
Cheers
Steve

So the story keeps changing, but as far as I can see, they have my money sitting in their account, but it's not helping me. Great. Is tomorrow (as in, maybe my tomorrow night so it will be received Tuesday morning by the exchange office) too soon to send another thinly disguised, "Where's my money, bitch?" email? I mean, I didn't lie in my second email. I really don't want to be a nag, I just want my freaking money so I can do stuff and go places. Argh.

Yes, whingey, non-travel related stuff.

So let's add a little travel flavour!

Some stuff! (Oh my god, I LOVE stuff!)

1. I'm meeting up with Rachel in Poland on the 29th October!! I haven't seen her since the beginning of May at her farewell as she has been having the most awesome trip ever. Mole. But we're meeting up in Krakow and gonna drink lots of Polish vodka! Interesting fact: Vodka here in Germany is spelt "Wodka". Still pronounced the same way. Ok, so that fact is not so much interesting as it is something I've stolen precious seconds of your life to force you to know.

2. I'm meeting up with Nicole in Ireland on 27th November!! I'm also seeing her this weekend when she comes to my state to visit family. She's been in Berlin the past couple of months. BUT most importantly, I'm seeing her in DUBLIN!! And we will drink Guinness for the first time and say things like, "BRILLIANT!"



Guinness in a bottle? BRILLIANT! Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure it will taste like shit, but it will taste like shit IN IRELAND. It's all relative, you know? It's science.

3. Fingers crossed, and it looks to be full steam ahead (but with me, it never does seem to work out. A house will probably fall on me. Some bitch will steal my shoes). I am hopefully (finally) going to see JUDITH in Munich on 7th November. And hopefully NADIA will be able to join us for the weekend. Hopefully everyone's workplaces will be the awesome places they are and give them that weekend off! (Flattery works, right?) I will finally be able to see my girls again and move into my home. You know, my home? I've only been crapping on about it since high school. But most importantly, seeing my girls again. Drinking Starbucks together, like old times' sake (only, I'm pretty sure the Starbucks in America didn't charge 4 Euros (or, AU$8) for a small latte...).

There's so much more I want to do except can't because of the money problems, time constraints, and uni commitments, which is another post altogether. And yes, you will unfortunately have to sit through another talking-about-uni-post. How quickly this blog has become my need.coffee blog. But it's part of my travel here and you need to deal with it.

Oh, and before I forget them, more books to add to the list of books for this year:
15. Outlander, Diana Gabaldon
16. The Hellbound Heart, Clive Barker (for uni)
17. How Late it Was, How Late, James Kelman (for uni)

Can I recommend that everyone goes and reads the James Kelman one? Then we can all discuss how excellent the writing is and the nature of colonisation and the troubles of the working class and unreliable narrators. Do it!

Rome, if you want to! (and I know you do!)

I've done nothing over the last few weeks but whinge and moan about my language course. And I've forgotten to write about Rome - the best part of my trip BY FAR.

Photos from Rome can be found here. Pictures to go with the story!

The problem is that it feels like it was so long ago and there was so much stuff that happened that what I'm going to do is just write about it in dot points, because I know that no matter what I write I will never be eloquent enough to capture every perfect (and awkward) thing that happened to me.

- I took a train from Florence to Rome and found myself sitting next to a nun whilst I was wearing a strappy dress and reading Angels and Demons. "Come si dici, 'You're going to Hell,' in Italiano?" So shameful, but mostly because I was reading that tripe. ;)

- To add to my shame, I got to Rome and had no plan on what to do. I couldn't check into the hostel yet so I left m luggage there and headed into the blistering sun, looking for somewhere to eat lunch. Instead I noticed there were those open top buses waiting at the station so I ignored my inner travel snob, paid and hopped on. Things that aren't a good idea - leaving your hat in your suitcase, wearing a strappy dress and sitting on an open top bus for two hours in 37 degree weather. Burn baby, burn.

- My first glimpse of The Colosseum. Oh. My. God. This is one of those moments that I wished I wasn't travelling alone. That's a moment where I would have loved to have turned to someone and squealed. Instead I settled for wriggling around in my seat and having an inner squeal. Maybe a small audible one too.

- Spending a day exploring the Colosseum, Palatine Hill and the Roman Forum. Would love to do this again when it's not painfully hot. As it was, by the time I had spent several hours in the Colosseum and Palatine Hill, I could barely muster the energy to wander the Forum properly. I was just trying to find a bit of shade.

- On my third day I started speaking to someone at breakfast who introduced me to her roomie named Catherine who was from Sydney and also Filippino. She was going to Vatican City that day so I invited myself alone (as one does) and explored St. Peter's Square and St. Peter's Basillica with her. Things that one shouldn't do: read Angels and Demons just before going to Rome. Seriously, I bought it because my English language book options were limited and I thought it was fitting to read something about Rome, but then everywhere in Rome I kept having Robert Langdon moments, or finding that I knew random trivia about the stuff I was looking at that I learnt from Dan Brown. Argh. So I'm there in St. Peter's Square thinking to myself, Oh yes, those are the Swisse Guards. Their uniforms were designed by Michelangelo. And there's the obelisk from that scene in the book where... Yep. Lame. But I also do love lame trivia. Like, did you know that the marble in St. Peter's is taken from the Colosseum? Yeah. Mmmhmm. I am so lame. Anyway, the museums were closed that day so we couldn't go. We ended up walking past Castel Sant'Angelo (another Langdon moment. GRRR) and to Piazza Navona where we had a lovely lunch and THE BEST GELATO OF MY LIFE. It was the size of my head. And it was only 2Euro. Freaking awesome. We also stopped by La Bocca della Verita`, or, the Mouth of Truth, and I put my hand in all Audrey-like and came out with it still intact. Because I am the epitome of virtue and never tell lies! Or, it's a -dare I say it?- FAKE! I'm gonna go with the virtuous line.

- How to follow up an awesome day: have one of the best nights of the trip! Met up with Catherine in the evening to have some drinks and dinner. Shared a bottle of wine, got a wee bit drunk, met some American girls (who make a comeback in the next evening - another great night), then went to the Trevi Fountain to see it all lit up. So did all the other tourists in the world. Not that atmospheric, but such an amazing fountain. HUGE. So beautiful. Then onto find the Colosseum to see it all lit up. On the way we were walking behind an Irish couple, and we soon all realised we were headed to the same place and we were all lost together, so we joined forces and found the Colossuem. How do you lose the Colosseum?? It's so bloody big! And AMAZING AT NIGHT. God. I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it. Anyway, the Irish couple were newlyweds on their honeymoon and the husband shouts us all beer and we end up drinking at chatting (at the Colosseum!) until about 1:30am. It was seriously just perfect. PERFECT.

- So I was supposed to be going to Pompeii the next day, but my alarm didn't go off. Thanks, alarm. So instead I went to the Villa Borghese gardens and to the Galleria Borghese. I have to recommend the Galleria to EVERYONE. It's filled with some of the most amazing Bernini scupltures (except stupid Langdon has ruined all things Bernini for me). Make sure you book ahead of time though because you can't just show up - you have to make a reservation. I then, managing at the same time to give myself the world's biggest bruise, made my way to the Spanish Steps. Didn't walk up them - what, am I crazy??? 40 degree heat and a bazillion steps? No thanks. I did see that there was a Shelley/Keats museum next to the steps and resolved to go back there on my last day.

- Went to the Vatican Museums. So good. Audio guide died two rooms before the Sistine Chapel. WHAT? That was the whole reason for me buying the damned thing. Grr. Had to settle for reading the tiny description in my travel guide. Oh yes, that's right. I bought a travel guide for Rome. And I carried with with me. It was one of those Frommer's Rome Day by Day. I highly recommend it. By this point in my trip I had no sense of tourist-snobbery left in me. And I also got a refund for the audio guide. I felt bad about that - I only wanted a partial refund but instead they gave me a whole one... Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure that the Vatican can afford it. I've given lots of money over the years when those baskets come around in Church. (Which makes me think (and we all know I'm not a big fan of the "thinking") - surely if you're Catholic you should be allowed into all parts of the Vatican for free. Yes, St. Peter's is free, but the whole place should be free. The atefacts in those museums were plundered with monetary help from my Catholic ancestors! Surely I'm entitled to look at them for free. And so what if I'm an atheist? I don't have a certificate that says I'm an atheist, but I do have one that says I'm Catholic! Jews have that Law of Return thing for Israel, surely there should be some free ticket option for Catholics going to Vatican City. I'm just saying.)

- That night I started chatting to two Canadian girls whilst waiting for the two American girls who I was going to dinner with (the ones I met the day before). Turns out these girls were going to Pompeii the next day. I totally invited myself along, seeing as I had already bought my train ticket. The five of us went to dinner in Trastavere, a gorgeous, "authentic" part of Rome. (I'm always very cautious when other travellers and guide books tell you a particular area is "authentic".) But irregardless, the area is beautiful - lots of little laneways and restaurants everywhere, surrounding the main piazza. We went to the BEST restaurant called Da Ivo and had two of the greatest pizzas ever - you can choose from "red" and "white" pizzas (the red ones have a tomato sauce base, the white ones don't. I can't remember what our red pizza was (but I know that it was HEAVEN - I think it was eggplant and something else!), but the white pizza will live forever in the history books. It was - get this - gorgonzola cheese and apple. APPLE! Crazy. We chose it for novelty's sake, but then we took one bite and decided that we were done. This pizza is the food to end all food. The apple was very thinly shaved and the cheese complemented it perfectly. So good. We spent the rest of the night wandering around the River Tiber at the markets and bars set up there. Just another great night.

- Pompeii. First, let me start by saying we began very early. Very. Early. Met a group of bogan guys from Bondi. Why is it that Australian guys travelling overseas seem to need to travel in a uniform of sorts - typical Havs, bordies (Billabong, of course) and navy blue bonds singlet. And they all have the same hair. And they're all very loud. Travel snob returns!! But anyway, there were 8 of these guys altogether, and they were travelling in a group of 30!!! WTF?? Anyway, just wanted to point out that they annoyed me.

- People that also annoyed me: the girls I was with. Note to self: be wary of who you invite yourself along with. This was not the first time in Rome that my being friendly and inviting myself along with someone else backfired on me (note that I didn't mention the other incident. Interesting...). These girls just seemed so normal at first, and I thought it was great that they were classics majors and so were studying Ancient Greece and Rome at uni and so they knew a lot about the time and things like that. I hadn't spent enough time to realise that of course they knew everything in the world about everything, so our audio guide was stupid and pathetic ("Oh my GOD. Is the audio guide explaining to me what a basilica is? I already know what a basilica is! I could tell you what it is in my sleep!"), and they spent a lot of time talking to each other about the architecture of the place ("So they've used doric archways here. Oh, but is that ionic? Surely not!"). I think they were showing off a little in my presence, trying to alert me to the fact that I was a mere pleb. The incident of the day was when they noticed the various stones in the middle of the streets and were wondering what they are and started discussing the possibilities to each other. I had mostly been quiet during their entire showing off but was really confused by their confusion.
Me: Erm, they're stepping stones, aren't they?
Them: What?
Me: You know, stepping stones - so people could cross the roads (the roads are very deep).
Them: That doesn't make any sense.
Me: It makes plenty of sense - the roads are deep so there would have been a lot of dirt and general yuck (speaking like this probably doesn't help my cause in the eyes of the "intellectuals"), and people wouldn't have wanted to step in that so it would have been more hygenic to use the stepping stones to cross.
Them: (smirking) People weren't really that concerned with hygene in those days.
Me: Yeah, but you're not exactly going to want to turn up to someone's place with five inches of sewerage on your clothes. Besides, it's a bit of a climb down onto the road and then back up onto the sidewalk.
Them: But then why are there gaps between the stones? And why were there so many more stones down that street than there are on this street?
Me: The gaps are for carriages and things to get through, I guess, and there are more on that street because that was probably a main street, with lots of businesses and things.
Them: I doubt there were that many carriages. We'll have to ask our professors when we get back home.

PS. I was right, they were wrong, ner ner ner neeeer ner.

But anyway, general notes about Pompeii: So bloody hot. Definately the wrong time of year to go. But amazing to think it was all buried for how many hundreds of years and there's still so much of it there and intact.

- Last day in Rome was a disaster. I basically spent the whole day looking for a dress to wear to Lara's sister's wedding in a couple of day's time. It was lovely of my mother to let me know WITH SO MUCH NOTICE that she hadn't sent the one thing I had asked her to send 2 months previously, and had reminded her to send every week. It was great to find out on my last day in Rome when I wanted to spend it at the Ara Pacis and the Keats/Shelley museum. At least I found out I'd need to buy a new dress (with money I didn't have) after I'd seen the Crypt of the Capuchin Monks. So angry. Decided I'm done with her after a whole bunch of things in the last two months. Way to ruin Rome.

But you can't really ruin Rome because it is just so amazing. When I come home next year I'm starting up my Italian lessons again.

And really, the whole "dot point" thing didn't really work - each dot point is very long. You know me - I don't do "succinct".
Oh, and for those of you without access, here are pretty much all of the photos from my trip so far. I really can't be arsed putting them all on this blog because it's so much effort (seriously, for each picture you add it adds a gap between paragraphs and takes an hour to make it all neat and tidy. And I'm lazy).

London
After London, in Hatfield and Bath
Manchester and Northumberland
Paris
Scotland
Cuneo and Ventimiglia
Firenze
Marcus and Denny's Wedding (with the dress I ended up borrowing from Denny)
Berlin

Deutsch Kurs

So, I'm three weeks into my German course with one week to go. I can tell you that I've basically learnt... nothing. It's just so hard! We're not really learning vocabulary but grammar. Bitch please, I barely understand English grammar, let alone German grammar with all it's different cases (akkusativ, nominative, genativ und dativ) meaning you have to use a different sentence structure as well as change the article you're using, and while you're at it, only conjugate this verb and not this one, then throw the other one at the end of the sentence instead.... and all being taught to me IN GERMAN. English grammar is difficult taught in English. German grammar makes me want to cry when it's taught in German. And everyone else in the class seems to be progressing and moving forward, and I'm sitting there going, "Wait... no?"

So it's hard.

But I've made some good friends in these classes. And some good enemies. It's lots of fun. Actually, I'm sure I haven't made enemies because I'm sure that these people don't know how much I can't stand them. Seriously, it's painful. Most of all I can't stand the other Australian girl. I think I've mentioned her here before. You know the type, typical Melbourner. I'm going to assume upper-middle class. She's got that whole hippy thing going but you know it takes a fair bit of money to be able to sustain that lifestyle. Doesn't shave her underarms, constantly talking about how Australia is a cultural wasteland, that the whites killed the Aborigines (she probably has one of those plaques on her door saying, "We acknowledge that the ______ people are the original custodians of this land"... give it back then), and all this other stuff that I could have merely shrugged off indifferently.

Until Thursday.

Thursday I was planning a trip to Ikea. I needed a shower caddy. I wanted to play like Kim and call out, "Bretty!" everywhere, maybe even using a display toilet (JOKES!), following the arrows like the sheep that I am. I was going with my friend Mitch who wanted to buy a cheap rug for his room. We ran into the Aussie girl. We mentioned that we were going.

Aussie Girl (AG): I can't stand the fixation people have with Ikea. You buy a table and it breaks within 6 months.
Me: Yes, but the table only costs you $10 so you can go buy another one. (Also, I've never had any of my Ikea stuff break...)
AG: But don't you see?! This consumerist attitude is what I hate about our modern capitalist society. We buy cheaply only to have to replace it later and repeat the process, not caring about how it's effecting the environment or our impact...... (this went on for awhile)
(20 minutes later, after she finished her monologue. Managed to bite back retorts that her attitude is a very easy one to have if you've got money behind you, but some of us are students and can't afford to have a traditionally hand-made table that will last forever, and what an elitist attitude she has. Couldn't be bothered getting into a discussion about it.)
Me: I like my shopping without the ideology.
[Exeunt]

Gahr.

Then there's the girl that's in the army and is always talking about when she was stationed in Qatar, and how awesome the army is, and how she wants to buy a shisha (sp?) pipe. Argh. Everytime I'm around her I'm constantly having to zone her out. I cringe each time we walk past a Turkish shop and I see a shisha pipe in the window because I know that she will go, "Oh, they sell shisha here?! God, I love shisha. I really want to buy a pipe............ (goes on for the next fifty shops)." Seriously, we've been here a month. Buy one of your disgusting pipe things already.

God, I'm so bitchy. You're all very glad I'm over here and not around you.

Another thing that's got me really grr is that I was told back in August that I will be receiving $5000 scholarship money. HUZZAH! Praise Jeebus! And just in time because I had completely run out of money. I was going to have to start living on my Centrelink cash. Not fun. I was told I'd be paid within two weeks.

So, three weeks later I sent an email going, "Hi, not wanting to be a nag, but just wondering when the money will be sent through? I just wanted to book a couple of things. No rush though."
Translation: WHERE'S MY MONEY, BITCH???

A week later (seriously, WTF?) I get an email saying, "No worries. All scholarship money is going to be sent out after October 15th."

WHAT????

Erm. I want my money NOW (and I also want an Oompla Loompa, daddy. And a golden egg laying goose. NOW). Seriously, why the 15th? I have a week's vacation before starting this Friday until the 12th of uni, so I could have gone somewhere for a week. Instead I'm going nowhere. So cranks. And I can't even do any shopping. Seriously though, by October 15th it will have been 2 months since I was told I'd be getting the money within the next "two weeks".

Grrr.

I think it will be OK once actual uni starts. I've got my timetable worked out so that I have Mondays and Thursdays off. I wanted Mondays and Fridays off so I could have very long weekends and travel, but there's this class that I really wanted to do and it's only offered on Fridays. It's called "Slayer Studies." It better be what I think it's about. Apparently it's taught by this Australian professor and he's taught a class on vampires before, so I've got all my fingers and toes crossed for this one. Other classes I'm doing:
- Are you scared yet? British Horror
- Teaching English Literature
- Scottish Literature and Culture
- Literature into Film
- It was easier to write about the past
- Deutsch als Frendspeche
-Hanif Kureishi (I don't know how long I'll last in this class. I'm reading one of his books now in preparation and it's shit. I don't even hate it - I am so indifferent to this book which, to me, is worse than if I hated it or the characters in it. I just couldn't give a damn.)

So yeah. That's all. There's no travel posts because I haven't been travelling.

Just skip this one

As we all know, I am a world of lame. Back home I keep a diary of all the books I've read. Actually, being the nerd I am, I keep two diaries, one that just lists the books and the dates I've read them, the other for books that gave me such strong opinions, either negative or positive, that I need to share them with someone, and rather than bore everyone to death with me banging on about the books to them I write the thoughts in the diary. Don't get me wrong, unfortunately for everyone else I still bang on about these books to them, but I really get it off my chest in the diary.

What's this got to do with my travels? Really, nothing, except that I've read a few books so far and I don't have a diary to write the books into so I'm going to write them up here. So this post is really for me so I don't forget anything and it's really not interesting at all so skip skip skip!!

1. The Other Hand, Chris Cleave.
2. The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini.
3. Plain Truth, Jodie Picoult.
4. One for the Money, Janet Evanovich.
5. North and South, Elizabeth Gaskell.
6. Angels and Demons, Dan Brown.
7. Thousand Splendid Suns, Khaled Hosseini.
8. Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert.
9. Twenties Girl, Sophie Kinsella.
10. PS. I Love You, Cecilia Ahern.
11. The Berlin Wall, Frederick Taylor.
12. Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist, Rachel Cohn & David Levithan.
13. Revolutionary Road, Richard Yates.
14. Something to Tell You, Hanif Kureishi (currently reading).

Numbers 8-14 I've read since getting to Germany. I have a lot of time for reading with my 2 and a bit hours of the day spent on trains. (It also helps that 3 of the books are chick lit and one is a YA novel.)

Shoot me.

Argh. Tomorrow I have to give a presentation on Australia with the other Australian girl there. Shoot me. Remember, I can't construct a sentence. I had my teacher help me. Here's what I'm going to say:

Viele Ureinwohner haben seit 40 000 jarhen in Australien gewohnt. Danach haben die Englaender Gefangene nach Australien gebracht.
In Australien essen wir Essen aus allen Laendern. Besonders Fleischauflauf, vegemite und Kaenguruhfleisch.
In Australien gibt es viele schoene Straende. In Sydney gibt es einen beruuhmten Strand er heisst Bondi. Fast gans Australien ist eine Wuuste.

Basically it translates to:
Many Aborigines lived in Australia for 40 000 years. Then the English brought prisoners.
In Australia we eat food from every country. In particular meat pies, vegemite and kangaroo meat. In Australia there are many beautiful beaches. In Sydney there is a famous beach called Bondi. Most of Australia is a desert.

Shoot me. That has got to be the most boring thing in the world. Vomit. And I can't think of anything else to say, or, I can think of lots of things to say but nothing I could say in German. Argh. Seriously, shoot me. I don't want to get up in front of anyone and say this crap. It's embarrassing.

Meanwhile, I met up with Katrin today for lunch. It was so good to see her again - nice to see someone from Newcastle, even if she is originally from Germany. We had a nice little whinge about how crap our history class was last year.

Having lunch with her again tomorrow.

Other news: being here is like being in high school again. I'd been hanging out with this group of American's this last week and there's all this in-fighting going on. I'm too old for this crap. I tend to not say anything, just agree with whoever's talking to me, then suddenly remember I need to go home. Now there's a great schism in the group. I'm so glad I'm living off campus so I have some space and my world isn't so insular. I think if I lived on campus and saw these people all the time it would probably my entire world.

As it is I'm seeing everyone all the effing time. It's hard being around these people so much. We have our classes, then we've had so many excursions. Bloody excursions. Although, they're calling them "Tutoriums" and as such, they're part of our language classes and they're mandatory, and we had to pay 65 Euro for it (grr argh grr), and it's pretty much like we're being babysat. On Saturday (yes, a Saturday. As in, MY Saturday. As in, MY WEEKEND) we had an excursion to Dortmund. We did a scavenger hunt. Shoot me. Then on Tuesday we went to Bochum and went to a musuem to have a tour of a recreated mine. Shoot me. Then yesterday we went to this place called Steinwache which was the gestapo headquarters for the area during the Third Reich. Could have and should have been really interesting. I'm sure it would have had I understood any German at all. And if the rooms weren't so tiny and airless and filled with 20 people (I'm sure the prisoners would have liked bigger, more air filled rooms also). Argh. Saturday we have another excursion, this one's to Cologne. I was really looking forward to seeing Cologne in my own time. You just know that they're going to suck the fun out of it. Shoot me.

I'll make a proper post soon, I promise.

First day of uni...

So today was my first day of my language classes. Well, actually tomorrow is the first day, but we had to go today for orientation stuff. And a language test - to see which class to place us in. Erm... I could save you some paper cos that thing is being handed back blank.

But first: a walk through my day, which will be somewhat typical of my days for the next four weeks.

So I got up at 5:55. That's a disgusting time. Unless I haven't gone to bed yet, that's not a time I want to be awake. But that will soon become my new wake up time. (I can already hear Bec saying, "Sarah, that's a sleep in!" No, Rebecca. No.) After showering, dressing and blowdrying I had just enough time to make my bed before I needed to hightail it to the train station, which is about a 15 minute walk away, downhill. Awesome. So I'm walking with my headphones and this little girl calls out, "Sarah!" I look down and there's this girl that Lara tutors who I met on Saturday. She's adorable, but how on earth she recognised me (she probably just saw this girl that looked like death and thought to herself, hey, I met someone who looks like death recently... Sarah!) and remembered my name is anyone's guess. I'm there saying hi and thinking, Crap! I'm sure she had a name! (It turns out her name is Jill. Lara told me this evening.) Then I kept on walking, ducked into a bakery to grab a brӧtchen then made it just in time for my 7:19 train. I paid the 10.50 Euro (ONE WAY! That's $20 ONE WAY!), then made it to Hagen (all the way sure I'd gotten on the wrong train) then changed to a train at Dortmund (all the way sure I'd gotten on the wrong train), then asked at the information counter which platform for the train to the uni, then got on the train, all the way sure I'd gotten on the wrong train.

Somewhere along the way, my neuroses got the better of me. Amongst all the "where is this train going??" thoughts, I suddenly started freaking out about meeting new people. No matter that this is something I've been doing every single day for the past 10 weeks, I came to the conclusion today that I didn't want to do it anymore. I'm so sick of being nice and friendly. It's not a natural state of being. At least not for me. So I had a bit of a panic and messaged my go-to people (and thank you, by the way, for dealing with my issues), then went to class. At first I was doing my don't-talk thing, but then I realised that I suck at not talking so I chatted with the people around me, who all spoke English.

Anyway, we had an orientation, were introduced to our teachers and international office people, then we had our test.

Yeah, I did not like this test. Why? Because part of the test was to ask the person next to us a series of questions, write their answers, then go around the class telling everyone. Yesterday, Lara and her mum taught me how to say some basic sentences: Meine name ist Sarah. Ich komme aus Australien. Ich bin vierundzwansig jahre alt. Ich wohne in Deutschland bei miner Freundin Lara. Yeah. So I could answer two of the questions for my partner. And then I had to say it out loud to the room. So I began with, "Ich spreche kein Deutsch," which I think Judith and Mariam taught me back in our Chicago days and it means that I can't speak German. Then I said my two sentences and said that's all I have. Guess which class I was placed in.

Anyway, we did a tour of the uni. It looks like a uni. As we were touring I got talking to some people. Met a nice girl from Georgia called Sammy. She's 21 and engaged. ENGAGED. Seriously. Everyone in the world is getting married, married, or having babies. And I'm still acting like a little kid, doing my student thing and refusing to settle down with one city, let alone one person. ARGH. Anyway, she was nice. There was one girl that I thought was stupid. She was listening into Sammy and I chatting, so I asked her a question. She answered in German. I told her I couldn't speak or understand German. She answered in German. Obviously, if you speak German only, I'm going to understand the whole speaking in German thing. But she was from America. Don't talk to me then, if you're going to be so rude. She asked me (in German), what I was doing at a German university if I don't speak German. I'm kind of over explaining that I've come here to see my friends, and doing an exchange was the most economical option, so I said, "Ich bin verrückt," which means, "I am crazy." Then she corrected me, saying it wasn't "verrückt" but something else. So I was worried because it's kind of my favourite word. When I got back home I asked Lara's family whether my sentence was right and they said it was. Long story short - I hate people.

Another person to add to my hate list - the man at the service desk at D-Bahn. Argh. Just, generally and arsehole. I'll sum him up with one sentence: I asked if I could pay for my ticket with credit and he tells me of course not, and in German he sneers, "It's Deutsche Bahn, not Deutsche Bank." You're a Deutsche Bastard. It was a legitimate freaking question.

Oh, and I got stung by a wasp. And a woman pushed in front of me when I was lining up to get my morning coffee. Do not push in front of me when I haven't had coffee yet. I'll death stare the crap out of you.

Italian for Beginners, or, Where Sarah Had Many a Silent Disco

I have no idea who I've mentioned this to, or if I've even mentioned it before, but now you know, I tend to think that everything about me is common knowledge, when it turns out I forget to tell anyone anthing. Knowing me now, you probably wouldn't believe it but it's the absolute truth.

When I was little, around ten years old, I wanted to become a nun. Like, I really wanted to become a nun. I really liked our school nun, Sister Anna, and I thought Father Chris was great. I was in the school choir so we used to have a lot of dealings with them. I wasn't overly religious growing up. Every few years or so I think Dad would get the guilts and drag us to Christmas Eve or Easter Sunday mass, and I went to a Catholic school so we'd go to church a few times each term, plus I was in choir so we had a few other obligations. But that seemed irrelevant to me in becoming a nun. To me there was something about becoming a nun that seemed really worthy - dedicating your life to one goal, cloistered up or doing charitable works. The religious aspect seemed to be an after thought to me, but I have always loved the ritual aspect of a Catholic mass, the iconography, the songs...

Fast forward fifteen years and things are a little different, what with that whole "atheist" thing I have going now. And the fact that I've screamed down both Sister Anna and Father Chris on separate occasions for their family-meddling and general c-bombishness. Honestly, if there is an afterlife, it hurts me to think that I'm going to have to be spending mine in Hell with the two of them, although I'm sure it's big enough so I'll never have to see them. (And if I do I'll throw some fire and brimstone at them or something, get my posse to gang up on them.) BUT it still hasn't killed my love of nuns and priests because as a general rule, I think they get into it for really noble causes (or because they can't come to terms with the fact that they're gay...).

What does that incredibly long-winded story have to do with Italy? Hello? It's Italy! Do you know how many random nuns, brothers and priests are walking around? They're everywhere! There's even brothers that have that old fashioned monk hair - shaved on top and at the bottom but with that one-inch thick strip of hair running around their head - wearing old fashion monk robes. You're constantly catching glimpses of white collars on various men, and there's always groups of little (is there a height restriction for going into convents?) women running around in their grey habits, either with the obligatory stern, wrinkled face or the smooth, pious, benevolent face. I love that in a group of six little nuns rushing around (and they always rush) there'll be equal parts angry nun to sweet nun.

And on almost every corner there's some kind of Catholic shrine, be it a picture of a saint or the Holy family or a cross. I really do think it creates a sense of community - there's always a fresh bunch of flowers there and it's always taken care of. And it's just pretty.

So I've already mentioned that I began my Italian journey with my cousins in near Cuneo. My post about that might seem really whiney, but I do want to stress that I did enjoy my time there. It was just difficult with the language barrier and the fact that I'd spent the past month doing everything independently, answerable to no one, and suddenly I was having to ask for permission to go anywhere. It was hard to adjust. But it was a lovely place to be. In the mornings I would sit in their living room looking out at the mountains and the church courtyard down below, or I'd sit on their balcony overlooking all the rooftops. I read my book. A lot. I travelled two hours on the train to the closest beach with my cousin Andrea and his friends and got a dirty tan (which would only be added to during my time in Italy. Yuck). I ate lots of food. Lots. Of. Food. I saw ZEBRAS IN SOMEONE'S YARD. We were just driving by and I'm like, WTF is THAT?? They're like, zebras (and I could practically hear the "duh" formulating in their mind). You haven't seen a zebra before? Well, yes, but in the zoo, or on Discovery Channel. So yes. A zebra.

Another difference that I found in Italy - bread and butter. Many of you will know that if forced to live on one thing for the rest of my life I would choose bread and butter. Oh, how I love bread and butter. So one day I was asked if I would like something to eat. "Pane con burro, per favore." Bread and butter, please. "Pane con burro??? BURRO?" "Errr.... si? Burro? Come si dici 'butter' in Italiano?" How do you say 'butter' in Italian? They told me I must be mistaken, but surely I couldn't have forgotten the word for my favourite bread topping! I ran to the dictionary and looked up butter, but there it was: burro. I pointed it to them, and they just shook their head and told me that butter on bread is disgusting, and proceeded to pour some olive oil instead. Possibly a sign that I could never live in Italy (although I do love bread and olive oil... just not when I want bread and butter!).

But I have decided that as soon as I come home next year (after starting uni the very next day) I'm going to restart Italian lessons. I love the language and I'd love to be able to communicate with my family members properly. It was frustrating not knowing anything there, but I feel like the language comes to me naturally, if that makes sense. Actually, I think I'd like to just be fluent in something. I'd like to get to the level in German where I can read this magazine called "Der Spiegel" which I used to look at in Borders and think, those articles look great. But I'd really like to pick up my Italian again. Actually, all these random languages running through my head is really annoying. I go to say, "Yes," to someone in German and my mind goes through Italian, Japanese and English before finally getting to "ja". How is it that I'm still getting random Japanese words running through?

From Cuneo I went to Florence for four nights. Florence was a little difficult for me because I found it quite lonely. My first three nights I was alone in my room so I didn't really meet anyone. I went to the cafeteria on my first night and started chatting to some randoms, but didn't feel like doing that on the other nights. Then on my last night there I finally get a roomie who was great and we hung out that night and went together to l'Academia the next day. She couldn't have gotten there earlier??

But apart from the loneliness, Florence was absolutely beautiful. Stinking hot though, but a good excuse to sample all the gelati. It's a tiny town so it's perfect for walking, and yet I still managed to get majorly lost one night. It was at the end of a very long day. I had done a tour of the local markets, sampled the olive oil, the formaggio (cheese), tried cheese with pear and orange jam on top (HEAVEN), tried various anti pasti and other things. So so good. Then I decided I should go to the Uffizi. The day before I had been told that I should reserve tickets but then saw it would cost an extra 4 Euros to book ahead. Screw that! I thought, I'm fine with lining up, so I'll keep my money, thank you very much. Yeah. I lined up for 4 HOURS. I'm not exaggerating. For an art gallery. Very important art, mind you, but still. 4 hours. But I'm pretty good at lining up. Basically I just grab my iPod, turn it to my dance playlist and have myself a silent disco. Great fun. I didn't really mind the first two and a half hours.

UNTIL SOME PEOPLE PUSHED IN FRONT OF ME.

Oooooh HEEEEEeell NO!

I looked at them for a bit, noticed the mother of the family in front of me looking at them too, made eye contact, gave each other the, "Did they just push in?" look, waited a couple of seconds, then pasted a smile on my face and asked in my politest voice, "Excuse me? Are you in the line?"

"Yes."

[Bigger smile] "Oh, OK. Because the line starts waaaaaaay back there."

"Oh, this is our last day. We can't wait that long."

[Smile gone] "Oh, OK. Except I don't care because I've been lining up for almost three hours."

"Oh, well then you can go in front of us."

"Oh really?? That's SO kind of you. Except, I CAN go in front of you because I'M SUPPOSED TO BE IN FRONT OF YOU. THREE HOURS IN FRONT OF YOU."

The mother was totally supporting me in this and telling them off too. Basically, they moved behind me, and the people behind me didn't care, so they got away with it. ARGH.

Now let's take a moment to talk about racial stereotypes, shall we? (We shall!)

Ok. So, when I was in Paris the two English girls I hung out with mentioned something about Germans and their inability to line up. I thought, that's just silly! I've never noticed my Germanian friends not being able to line up! But as soon as this couple pushed in, my friends' warning words flashed in my mind and I made a conscious effort to listen to the couple speaking. They were speaking German. Surely they were just terrible people, it had nothing to do with their Germanness! But alas, no. It seems to be a regular thing here. I've been here a couple of weeks now, lined up for several things, in several stores, and gotten incredibly pissed off at people ignoring any form of line and just walking up to the counter, in front of you, to the side of you, and just pushing in. As soon as I learn some German I'm going to learn how to tell people off (under my breath...).

So yes, they were one stereotype that was confirmed on that long line for the Uffizi. The other was about the inappropriate familial touching of the French.

So, the family in front of me (and I feel so bad about this because the mother totally had my back during the whole pushing-in saga of '09) confused me greatly. There was a woman in her forties, I'm assuming, a man also in his forties, and a teenaged boy and a teenaged girl. At first I thought, OK, a family. Easy. Then the older woman and girl started hugging. And the mum grabbed her arse several times, patted it, they kissed on the lips a fair bit. And I thought, OK, maybe the girl isn't in her teens and is older and this is a lesbian couple? Then the woman did the same thing with the boy, and the girl and the boy were very handsy, and the dad and the mum..... This was too confusing. I related this information to Mikey via text during the long four hours and he asked, "Are they French?"

Me: I think so.

Mikey: Then that's why - it's what they do.

Me: Really?

Mikey: Oh yes, the French are known for being all touchy feely with family.

Me: How do you know this?

Mikey: Arrested Development.

Me: Aaah, of course.

So those were my racial stereotypes.

I passed the rest of the time chatting to Mikey and hearing all the goss about work and the old Parkhill gang (oh Parkhill, how I miss thee! (the Parkhill group and good times, not the house and certain psycho housemates...)), and then after I hung up I only had a half hour longer to wait. Well done. Except then the guy in front of me in the line decided that NOW he would start chatting to pass the time. Where were you three and a half hours ago, huh?

So the gallery was great (full of incredibly important works of art, just as the guidebooks said), but I was buggered so couldn't really appreciate it as much as I'd like. I left and started walking back home. Only, the exit is on a different side to the entrance. And it turns out I can't read a map. And I also don't have any sense of direction, but still keep thinking it will kick in? Except it won't, because it doesn't exist in me. So I started heading in a direction, thinking any second now I would hit a landmark I would know (because Florence is basically only one square kilometre). I hit a landmark I thought I could find on the map, but when I finally asked someone for directions they let me know that, no, I was actually looking at the complete opposite side of the map to where I was. Oh, and I had actually wandered off the map. Of course. I got directions off a taxi driver and eventually made my way back. I had to buy $20 Maccas for dinner to make myself feel better, then proceeded to Skype with Nicole for ages having a good old whinge and gossip. It seemed to be a day for it.

I also did a Chianti region tour which consisted of us doing a wine tasting of red and white, learning about Chianti Classico wines and how to distinguish between them and proper Chianti regio wines (the black rooster on the label is how to make sure it's a Classico). We also tasted the different olive oils (oh my GOD, truffle oil! Soooo good) and balsamico. I wanted to buy everything, but at 20 Euros for 150ml of balsamico, I had to restrain myself to one of the cheaper bottles of wine. We then went to a vineyard, had a tour of the wine making process, then continued to drink and eat for the rest of the afternoon, followed by an hour and a half stop at San Gimignano where I had gelato at the world's number 1 gelateria (it had a sign and everything). Basically they're number one due to the crazy flavours they have. I had a cone with FOUR flavours (how do you decide???): limoncello (a yummy Italian lemon liquer - for those that have been, it's the one I keep going on about from my cousin's winery), fragola (strawberry - can never get enough of fragola), raspberry and thyme (ridiculously perfect), and champagne. YES, champagne. And it really did taste of it. And it tasted great. I also sampled someone's cinnamon which tasted like biting into a cinnamon bun.

That night I finally got a roomie and it was good fun hanging out with her. Before I left the next day we got up early and went to l'Academia to see the David before the crowds. There's not really much in l'Academia except for David, but it's worth the entrance fee and more. I was not expecting to be as impressed as I was. We just stood there circling him for ages until finally deciding that we should probably see some of the other things in the gallery. But unlike some other famous artworks, this one is definately not overrated. Everyone go see it!!

On my last night in Florence I also met a girl that seems to epitomise Australian close-mindedness. This is in no way confined to Australians, but it just seems that some of the Aussies I've met do it in a certain way... Here's the thing: isn't travelling supposed to broaden your mind? Aren't you supposed to see everything, try everything, do everything? We all know that when it comes to food, I have the blandest palate in the world. I pretty much hate any food that has flavour in it, and it frustrates me to no end, but while I've been travelling I've basically tried everything that's been offered to me, be that haggis, black pudding, weird seafood combinations, olives (even with my childhood trauma of olives) and other things that I've either surprisingly liked or have struggled to keep down. And we all know that in Australia, I hate going to Italian restaurants. Why? Because my Nonna can always make it better and for free. That's just how it is. But being overseas I (SOB!) haven't had my grandma around. So I've eaten Italian food in a lot of places. Especially in Italy (it's hard to escape it). And I've loved it. So when I met this girl on my last night I had to (literally) bite down on my lips to keep from saying something to her. Basically she was doing Bus-About Europe and was telling me how they were offered to go to a trattoria for a four course meal for 16 Euro, which she had agreed to until she found out the hostel was putting on a buffet for 7 Euro. Sounds fair enough. Then she proceeded to go on and on about how she doesn't want to pay so much money for Italian food. Erm... OK. Why? Because her mum used to be married to an Italian man who was apparently very fussy and she learnt to cook perfect Italian food, and her mum's food would be better than anything she ate over here, so why should she pay all this money for it?

Erm... because your mum isn't here, for one. And also, because your mum isn't even Italian. Oh my god. And I couldn't even say she's young or uneducated, because she was almost 26 and a primary school teacher (although, the primary teachers I've met have been kind of stupid... Jokes, Beau!). Seriously, WTF kind of attitude is that? It's frigging Italy. Also, she had arrived in Florence earlier that day, had done a walking tour with the bus-about guide, and was leaving in the morning to go to Milan because she'd “already seen everything in Florence.” Yet she was spending 3 days in Milan? Cos there's so much culture there, what with the shops and all. Oh my gosh, I hate people so much. And I couldn't even say, oh it's not her fault because she's from Queensland or something like that. No, she was from Melbourne, a more culturally enlightened city than Sydney. Allegedly. And she kept going on about the Italian food, and how Italian her mum is, and how she would make her friends eat when they came over. Keep biting that tongue, Sarah. The problem is that I've met so many people like that and I just want to smack them. I'm quite proud of myself for the restraint I've shown.

Just a quick note about Berlin:

It is awesome.

Leaving tomorrow morning. Will write a full post then. Maybe (we all know my track record). But I just want to get a few notes down before I forget them:

• There's a restaurant Nicole and I have passed several times a day near our hostel by the (what else?) riverside called Riverside. Guess what song Nicole and I sing every single time. RIVERSIDE (mother f*****). Doot doot doot doot dootloot doot doot dootloot dootloot doot, doot, doot. We also dance as we go past. Oh, we are so rad.
• I bought a pair of shoes today which are way too cool for me. Seriously. I'm letting the shoes down. Germany is full of awesome sneakers and I want them all but don't want to make the sneakers look bad due to proximity to me.
• The other day I walked past a heavily pregnant dwarf/little person smoking. I figure, it's the least of their problems.
• The fact that you're allowed to drink on the street here. I'm not a fan. The one time I did it on a pub crawl on our first night I felt like I should have been on the streets of Mount Druitt.
  
• The graffiti here is awesome. As we all know, I love to rant on about graffiti (especially on historical sites), but it fits perfectly here and it's art.
• Nicole is the shit and I'm going to miss her. xx
  

Germania. Or, living in a teeny tiny little village.

So I've been here in Germania with Lara for a week and a half. So far I love it. I can't believe I'm with Lara again, someone I thought I wouldn't see again for years (Judith, it's you next). It's like no time has passed - we just picked up right where we left off in January 2007, still drinking massive amounts of coffee, chatting about au pair life (general concensus - a great experience, but what the hell were we thinking?), and doing absolutely nothing. Great fun.

When I got here I had come at the most stressful time - 2 days before her sister's wedding. Her sister was officially married last year in a registry office but were having a church wedding this year. It also happened to be Nonno's birthday. I would link to how I spent Nonno's birthday last year, but that was a really bad time for me, so no linky (you can obviously search and discover it for yourself). Let's just say this was completely different. For a start, no drunkeness. I know. Me, not drunk at a wedding. Also, I was completely surrounded by people, and I was very happy.

The first two days I was in the thick of things decorating, helping out and generally trying not to be in the way. So much stress. The wedding itself was lovely. I got in trouble for taking a photo in the church, which apparently you're not allowed to do here because it's a sacred place and all that. That would annoy me if I got married and couldn't have photos of my wedding ceremony. But anyway. Then we went to the reception. I drove with Lara's grandpa who was really lovely - he slipped me 20 Euros as a "Welcome to Germany" present. "Do you smoke?" he asks me. "No." "Then buy yourself some chocolate." Will do!

Speaking of smoking, let me interrupt myself here to mention my worry for the next 6 months: everyone here smokes. Lara's boyfriend smokes, Lara's parents smoke. Lara doesn't smoke, but everyone we've been hanging around smokes. Apart from my dad, who I never see, I know only one person that smokes. Or at least, one person that smokes around me. A certain cousin (silly, silly boy) knows better than to exhale smoke in my vicinity. But suddenly smokers are everywhere and smoking around me, and I'm getting used to the smell. And everyone smokes over here. I was at a cafe, sitting outside trying to enjoy my coffee and my book with partially obscured vision from the smoke. I'll obviously have to get used to it, but it's just weird. (In 10 years time I'll be wrinkly and cancer riddled, but will have had a fantastic time :P)

So anyway, the wedding. First point of difference - they wear formal dresses. I had to borrow a dress from Lara's sister which only just fit. Had to be really careful about breathing. Tight. Could have passed in my pretty dress I'd bought for the ballet (trying to get maximum miles out of that one... also, Jenny, the moment I'm back we're going to another ballet), but a certain mother informed me on my last day in Rome that she hadn't sent the dress yet. Cue huge angry international fight. I spent my last day in Rome shopping like a mad woman trying to find something suitable to wear, only to find nothing. I also missed out on seeing the Ara Pacis and Museum of Augustus. Yes, my mother and I had words. Story of my life. (Really though, I should have known that I couldn't rely on her. It's only been 24 years of constant disappointment. But I keep thinking, this time will be different! She loves me so she'll do this for me...) But this dress was pretty, if a little tight (if a LOT tight) and anyway, it's not like anyone would be focusing on me so it would do for one night.

The reception was great and everything went off without a hitch. This lovely old Italian man kept making me dance, which would be fine, except they were doing proper dances, with steps. So I spent the whole time looking down at my feet. Good fun. Also made friends with a 12 year old girl named Vanessa. I seem to be a novelty with my whole inability to communicate. She was great fun though.

Now that the stress of the wedding is over I've had time to do other things, like exploring the town. While Lara was tutoring I decided that I would go with her into the town and spend the time exploring. Everyone looked at me like I was a crazy woman when I told them my plans. "But Sarah, Lara will be tutoring for 3 hours." "Yup." "But you can't spend 3 hours in Altena!" "No, it'll be fine." After half an hour of reassuring them that I could entertain myself, I set off with Lara. We got her her building where she tutors and she's like, "That's the main street. You can go up, you can go down. Enjoy."

So I did. I ambled (my least favourite activity) and wandered through the town. There's really not that much to do, but it's absolutely gorgeous. I popped into every shop (all of which were closed for lunch when I first started wandering), stopped for coffee down one end of the street and again at the other end of the street and stretched it out for three hours. They were right though, there wasn't too much to do, but it was nice just to be there.

I really should learn some German though. I just smile and say, "Ja." I probably seem like the most simple person in the world.

Yesterday was great though - we went to my uni to meet up with someone from the international office. I'm looking forward to my language classes which start on the 7th, and the uni seems pretty alright. I'm not looking forward to my subjects though. I'm pretty limited in my options. A bit annoyed because last semester they had a Shakespeare in Film class and now it's not offered. And apparently they study 12 subjects per semester. Erm... I struggle with 4 subjects. We shall see how this goes...