The Dam!

"Another of the usual, Perth boy?" I have to say I was struggling not to show my surprise when I heard it from the gorgeous barmaid as our new friday night collection of Amsterdam tourists walked through the door of the student pub. We had been led there the night before, and none of us really had clear recollections of what happened... Turned out the bartender did though, and as we were all trying to make out that we had no memory loss, no one had the balls to ask what actually went on- I can only guess it involved us winning lotto and shouting the bar all night until we caught the beer scooter home, sporting our beer coats at 5am...

We rocked into the 'Dam on our plane from Venice at about 8pm, and got the metro train from the Schiphol airport to Amsterdam Centraal station, and trekked off in hope of finding a hostel from there. On the net, every decent hostel and hotel we looked into was either at capacity or at least couldnt take us for most of our stay there. After getting rough directions to a 40 EUR/night hotel (That turned out later to be at capacity) we got prices from a few hotels and hostels and finally settled on one fine Christian establishment, with a big impressive bar that featured one quirky trait: "NO ALCOHOL" the beer fonts were now used to hang fluffy dice, and the beer fridges had the night staff's lunches. for 20 EUR a night though, it was pretty cool, had internet and a communal area which was the main thing we were chasing. We checked in, dropped bags and suited up for a trek around town.

The place seems a bit odd with its naming- being late at night, we were looking for a coffee, but it turns out the coffee shops are just drug stores and What we actually needed was a cafe. Another few cafes and a pub later we found our wing-it walking tour led us in amongst a sea of red lamps and were in the middle of a red light district. Funny enough, we noticed the biggest range of 2-3 storeys of red light windows looked onto a church in the middle of the shops. By the end of the second pub, I was keen on heading to the far side of town to see a few sights and pubs, but Lynda had a need to get on the internet and cut me short at one last pub and to make it snappy. I remember we passed a sign that said "Heineken, babes and beers" about 100m back and suggested that. "FINE!" So we ducked into the place that was, as the last pub had been, about 90% blokes (drunk english punters singing and cheering, watching the european or UK soccer leagues) and a few girls hiding in the corners. After paying my $26 AUD our pint and middy, the chick behind the counter picks up a microphone and announces over the PA that one the lucky staff member who was celebrating their birthday would put on her strip show in 20 minutes on the bar we were sat at. As I looked around, I noticed the signs inside were different from the one outside- they all said "Teasers babes and beer" and I think we both thought the same thing after we realised we walked into a strip club. I reckon I gave Bob Hawke a run for his money afteer that- I dont think I have ever knocked back a beer so quick! As soon as Lyn knocked hers off we were back out the door and on our way back to the hostel.

After Lyn retired to facebook for the night I scoured town for some beers and after the guidance of the staff got the price down from $6 AUD a small can to $3 AUD for a pint of grolsch and stayed up till 4am drinking, smoking and playing pool with the two night shift blokes at the hostel. At some stage during both nights, a bloke who slept on a couch there (who may well have been a figment of my imagination) appeared around 4am, throwing out free samples of the Cannabis cup entrant from Brakeys coffee shop across town. I was in awe at how hard these night shift blokes worked as they drank free beers, smoked themselves retarded and lost to my infallible pool skills. I was pretty stoked we chose that hostel with everything it had- Until the morning that is...

Our personal wakeup call at 10am didnt go down well on any of the 3 days we were there. You can hear the bloke stomping up the stair cases so steep you need a climbing harness, and like a maimed elephant bashing its way up he then opens the doors into our dorm with his fore head and bellows "YOU! YOU! ARE YOU STAYING TODAY! YOU MUST PAY!" This is then repeated until you get out of bed, and pay at the bar downstairs where you are told by a chick its not neccasary and you can pay for the next night at the end of your stay. Repeat the next morning. Oh and to top it off, on the second day the water was shutoff to the entire hostel while lyn had a new floor installed in her suite, which made for fun for the person washing their hair in the shower, and the day after the lack off water saw some brown monstrosities trying to slide their way out of the toilet bowl. nice.

That day we met our new addition to our room: a mexican bloke, Javier. We toured around town together, jumping onto a free tour of the Dam with new Europ tours, followed by a brief stop at the Anne Frank museum then an arctic trek across to the national Reichs Museum. Following the somewhere near 4pm sunset we set off on another extremity numbing trek across the city to Waterloo markets, stopping on the way at Rembrandt plaza, a coffee shop for a pick me up (no- I mean coffee- it was a starbucks), and the heineken brewery to laugh at their prices. Eg: $50 AUD for the free cooler bag that comes with their little 5L kegs, and $90 T-shirts that are free with 6-packs. haha- Dutch are comedians. So were the ones at the Waterloo markets with their closing time 30 mins before we got there. Lyn had arranged to meet Guilliaume at the traino at 20:30 so we headed back to the hostel, then against my recommendations she set off to go find him. I wasnt that keen on her soloing it coz I almost got into 2 brawls with roving packs of Liverpool supporters the night before when picking up beers from the local 24-hour crossiant bakery.

That night, our crew growing by 2: Guilliaume and Juan, another solo traveller from Guatemala staying in our hostel we set off to find some tucker- namely the stuff we had "Free Cocktail" and "10% off" vouchers we were hoarding. Imagine our surprise when the chick said no to us presenting 4x "Free Cocktail" vouchers. Instead of just fobbing her off, we played them off against the steak house spruiker next door and got some freebies thrown in. Once we sat down and saw the $40 for a steak, no 15% discount was getting us 5 travellers to eat there. We stood around like geese out front of the restaurant for a bit until Lyn took charge and led us marching past indian, chinese and on the road out of town. She surrendered the lead when we hit a cold part of town, blocked by canals and with only cafes- which sell coffee, but not food.? I started heading back into town when I stubled across an alley way with some thumping bass- the first time I'd heard it that night and we wandered in like we held native title over the place. Until wefound the bass was coming from someone's private courtyard... or we hesitated anyways. Inside the courtyard was a group of maybe 200 people, all our age smashing down drinks and jumping around to bad 90's tracks. We did the only thing we could- strutted inside, jumped around like them and made a beeline for the bar.

Somehow we had managed to crash the weekly Anthropology and Sociology university party, and this one was a big one for no apparent reason. There were a few things that just topped the party off: it was the cheapest place to buy drinks in Amsterdam (1 EUR stubbies, 1.50 EUR cups of wine!) as well as the fact that everyone spoke english. Not just the queens english, but also the slang degenerate form we speak today so there was no need for the slow and pronunciated english that strangely seems to be so tiring for us. Awesome. Come the windup of the bash (They were drunk out of the mountain of wine bottles and pallets of beer) we scored a free feed from their bain marie of curry and rice, and a top chick for the anthropology faculty who needed to be up and at an exam in a few hours did the leg work for us asking her mates where the next location was and actually walked us across town to show us the entry of the hole-in-wall uni bar all her mates were off to. I asked her why- especially seeing as her place was the opposite direction, and it was raining lightly- she said "people in the city are mean and I dont want you to think all Dutch are like that" wow! I definately wasnt cashing in karma on that one- the last time I tried to be nice to a bloke in Perth like that (A very dark skinned african) I offered to take him with us 4-wheeling in whiteman park the next day and he took off offended like no other. I dint even notice the name of the park until then! After socialising with half the university there and some more rounds in the pub, we headed back to our hostel and a few more rounds of pool and beers with the staff there it was time for another round of wake up calls from our friendly stair stomping buffalo, the manager.

Next day we woke worn and weary after all those drinks and trekked slowly to the zoo, stopping at a few parks etc on the way. By the time we got there it was 2 hours from closing and the $40 AUD entry scared us off so I suggested NEMO the science centre and we headed there. 5x student tickets later, we were in and blowing bubbles the size of people, having dam building comps and just generally sciencing as kids do. By the time we got pushed out of there, we went on the hunt for a meal, and started wondering about Juan's mental state when he became an enraged gorilla and started bashing on the glass of a body mod and piercing shop. Turns out inside the shop was 3 of his good mates from Guatemala who he had no idea were over here, so we all lobbed around from pub to cafe in our new group of random roustabouts lost in the 'Dam.

At an Irish pub, we got stuck into a few heinekens as well as some pub grub and after some chatting to our new members, we found out one of Juan's mates had been living here for 3 months now and knew all the cheap local haunts. After finishing up, we headed to a swanky student bar with its 3rd cheapest beers in town until about 1am then started on to a "better cheaper place" which turned out to be the student bar down a random back alley again! Hence the "Another of the Usual, Perth Boy?" when I walked in the door. Inside there was a total of 3 people- A couple of girls we all tried our luck with at the last bar, and the bar tenders. Same as the night before though, within 30 minutes, the place was heaving to some awesome tracks. Having lost Lyn and Guilliaume again, Xavier, Chovy and I headed out to continue our 5 and counting pub crawl at about 3am, only to be surprised to see everything was closing or closed! That is except the alcohol-free bars that were open with red lights in the windows, so we beelined it back to the pub for another few rounds before they closed up too. Come the end, we hit up the Dutch tradition of Chippies, drowned in Mayonnaise- And I mean seiously Drowned, Harold Holt style- grabbed a few roadies and headed back to the hostel for a 5am game of pool.

Following a decent hangover, I checked my emails, had a small happy dance when I saw "Notice of booking cancellation" on our Amsterdam to London flight I put on my credit card, then sobered up enough to realise it wasnt actually a good thing. Saying goodbyes, we bolted to the airport and re-arranged our tickets. Luckily there were free seats and we were booked onto the next flight and 5 hours later, on our way to our final overnight stop of our holiday. Im still not sure whether to be stoked or upset... Im looking forward to seeing all the mates, my car and everything familiar so much I just cant wait, but there are some huge perks of travelling I just cant ignore. Mainly: I wake up (stampeding triceratops managers excluded) whenever I want, I have no idea what day or date it is, and the idea of being completely lost in somewhere I have no idea about is so awesome I have "accidentally" throw out maps.

Mia Familia!

The focaccia tastes better in Italy, and on that note, so does the espresso, the briosh (yeah thats right frenchie!) and the pasta, and I can vouch for all of these after countless trials over the past few days. We jumped off the train, stoked to be back in Rimini and hopefully in some familiar surroundings from what we remembered from 15 years ago. Apparently we didnt remember much though, or the place has changed a hell of a lot since then. As we walked out the doors of the train station, we remembered that we couldnt speak the language, had no idea who we were looking for to come pick us up and as our train was 40 minutes late into the station, we weren't even sure if anyone was still here. 5 mins of standing like dumbfounded tourists later, Lynda miraculously recognised zia Bruna, shouted her name and it was hugs all round! I still dont have the hang of the italian 2-kisses hello and managed to slip in a sneaky headbutt. Also there to greet us and to translate was our uncle Cesare and his girlfriend Anja. Cesare, I clearly recalled I had met and had a cigar with at our Aunt's wedding 12 years back on his tour of Australia- Yep I was 12 at the time.

From the traino we picked our way through the crazy one-laned roads with 2 lanes of traffic, with another all too familiar lack of indication and complete disregard for any road signs, road markings and even pedestrians' lives. A short time later we arrived at the house of Ines, our great Aunt and had another chance at a round of headbuts and kisses as we were introduced to more family there- uncles and Aunt Paolo, Rafaella and Giorgio. As we chatted in the lounge, Ines dissapeared to the kitchen and before we knew it, we had infront of us a big bowl of home made cheese tortellini in a lemon-zest broth that was unlike anything I'd ever had before. Once we had finished that, I blinked and a dozen plates of food from the region appeared on the table: Pollo, Cornelio, Pida, Stracchino, Salsicce, garlic potate, Vedura... Of course, in Italian fashion we discovered, the main course is always preceeded by a pasta entree, and followed by a round of deserts- in this case fruit, Panetone and cakes, then a round of coffees, and all through the meal local vino! By the time we rolled out of the house with Paolo, we were stuffed, knew twice as much italian as when we walked in the door and had an absolute blast the whole time. Any doubts or concerns we had about meeting the family were gone, and now we were kicking ourselves for not allowing a whole week to explore this region. It was bizzarre listening to the conversation. Although we could only answer in simple sentences, if someone told us a story, we were able to understand it pretty well. eg: Ines telling of a mother that abandoned her kids during WW2 and she took them under her wing.

At Paolo's house not far away in the hibernating tourist village that is Rimini, we were led up some stairs and into a small, well decorated old town house. We assumed it was Paolo's main residence and felt bad because we had pushed him out of his home for the night we were staying with them- not so. After we had dropped our bags and been shown around the 1912 renovated villa, with its fresco ceilings with antique fixtures along side a brand new dream kitchen I was drooling over, Paolo took us to meet his family in the main house out the back of his block! It was an art-deco newly renovated 2-storey place, open plan living-kitchen-lounge and looked awesome, decorated with huge paintings by Paolo, and funnily enough painted the same colours Lynda painted her place! In there lived his family of wife Rafaella and their 3 kids, Alice, Illaria and her twin brother Allesandro. After a brief limb-numbingly cold but great tour of the town and its piazzas, duomo and markets from the Artist, now school teacher Paolo, the city put on a nice fireworks display to welcome us and we headed back to Paolo's for an apertifo drink and chat with the kids- all our age, while Rafaella whipped up an awesome entree of Stracchino e Rucola and a run of incredible home made pizzas with seriously, the biggest rolling pin I have EVER seen- it was about 1.6m long!- Siciliana, Tuscano, Al Funghi... Come the end, it was topped with a digestivo of home made Limoncello that I scored the recipe to, and a few more beers. Great night, and so much fun.

It was great staying here- good company, all the family spoke english so well it made us embarassed at our pathetic grasp of Italian, so they helped teach us- especially Alice who was often called on to translate. We drew alot of Parallels between their family and ours- the same amount of kids, same age range, each one into music and playing an instrument, pretty switched on and with their own style. We said goodnight after getting together a list of Italian punk/rock bands that we have to download and leaving a list of our own Aussie produce, including some living end after we found Allesandro has picked up a double bass recently. feeling more than a little guilty we made them stay up till the small hours when they all had Uni the next morning. We promised to send them vegiemite too- Im kind of glad we will be out of swinging range when they try it though! By the time we were about to retire, we discovered we had a predator in the room: Stoopi the cat. We soon found out why he was named so, when he managed to open a cupboard, get out a blanket in his teeth 3 times the length of him and drag it around the villa we were in...

The next day after Paolo put on an incredible breakfast of fresh espressos, brioche and bumbuliza (?), Cesare came to pick us up and we shot over to his place in the nearby country town of San Savino. Wow. He lives in a newly built apartment block, with marble and granite lined walls and staircases, on the top floor surrounded by balconies and with a more than impressive view on the main balcony. Standing next to the outdoor wood fired oven you overlook nothing but the rolling hills and pastures of San Savino, scattered with historic farm houses and framed by the mountains of the Republic of San Marino- A country within a Country. Getting from the front door to the balcony is an issue though- once you get past the never ending high voltage battery that is pepe the dog, theres the ferocius long neck turtles gaurding the back door, tAhe warden rabbit on the front balcony and for reinforcements, the basement dwelling hamster family and all the fish! After dropping our bags, we said a quick G'day to Cesare's folks Maria and Agisto, who have moved out of their old place that I managed to remember from 15 years back, and had moved into an apartment a little further up that same main road. Cesare also whipped out his pics from his tour of Aus all those years ago and the gold came up: a little kid dressed to kill, chuffing on a fat cuban cigar. haha. It was funny to see how similar My grandad's brother looked to him, and reminded me of the bloke. The family was great- very friendly and always with a huge smile on their faces. After a chat and another espresso, we hit the road for a "quick" lunch Cesare whipped up at his of Gnocchi Gorgonzola, another espresso, and we were off to get Anja and hit the mountains at San Marino.

San Marino is a scam- Nothing more. Its a castle atop a hill- the hill you cant even see because its in the clouds, so no one will invade because they cant even see it. To keep the scam relative to modern times, they have also declared themselves a Republic, which makes them their own country inside a country- they participate in international sports games, olympics, etc, and have their own government system. They also run at a loss, and are consistenly propped up by the not so happy big brother, Italy. They are kept afloat because it is a major port and tourism region that Italy relies on economically. Once in the Republic, there were two changes- snow and ice magically appeared all over the place, the first signs of a population of 4WDs in europe appeared and we started driving up some crazy hill that just didnt end until we had gone up into the cloouds, above them, through layers of mist, and back into higher ice and snow clouds! When I looked at our car outdoor thermometer and it said -4 degrees, I didnt refuse Cesare when he offered me a scarf and gloves. We trekked off to check out the 4-star "Hotel Cesare"- place Cesare is the Maitre De at, currently under 3 months of renovations and then set off in search of hot totties! After my ears got to a numbing equilibrium with the falling ice, we had a win! What was a novelty before of me being completely covered in falling ice, I forgot to brush off and turned into a melting ice block inside the mountain top restaurant as I got stuck into my Vin Brulee and the others into the italian variation of Caldo Punch- something that resembled a mandarin stuck inside a steam machine running on vodka. This stuff would chase a flu out of the country if you let it.

Back down the mountain, we headed to the converted Barn/Granary/Cellar that adjoined Cesare's old house, which had now been turned into a rustic style Restaurant and sat down as the owner brought around plate after plate of local food. It started big, and ended just as big: the region's traditional Stracchino e Rucola pizza entree, Fettucine Bolognese (exactly like Nonna's), Tortellini with asparagus and walnuts as second entree, A plate of Grilled Salsicce, myale kebabs, lamb chops and chicken, Grilled Melanzana, Zucchini, Pommodoro, Verdura... After that we were well and truly stuffed, so you can imagine the surprise when it was followed by a huge plate of tarts, cakes and sweets, then the kicker: the Apertivo. A familiar bottle of yellow liquid: Limoncello! Thats cool- we have developed a taste for this stuff now, but then the one sitting next to it made me shake in my DCs, aka: snow boots. Grappa. I dont think I have gone near it since the fire extinguisher on a flaming christmas hat episode in Karratha with our Croatian counterparts. I think the worst thing after the Del Bianco family shot was the immediate recollection of how powder-type fire extinguishers taste. Following dinner, our taxi (Cesare) arrived and shuttled us back home to see the remainder of the petting zoo that we had missed earlier that day and to try and tire pepe. No luck on that one, but he sure wore us four out.

Offered another espresso this morning by Cesare, I needed it like an albino needs melalin after that grappa, and it did the trick sweetly, followed by a sample of Anja's cake that we promised to ttry before we left, and it was well worth it- Red wine, allspice and chocolate- An unusual mix, but damn fine! After some final goodbyes this morning with Ines, Agisto, Maria and Anja we were dropped at the traino in Rimini to start the 6-hour adventure to the airport in Venezia for our leg to Amsterdam. Its sad seeing this place go and we are both regretting not spending extrra time here- we are both glad that it is at the end of our journey though as it will definately stand clear in our mind. I dont think we have come across so many friendly people so far on our journey, and they have all blown us away with their hospitality, friendliness and generousity. It has also been good seeing the roots of the famiily and having a laugh at some of the things that seem to run through the family- A similar creative streak, the inability to focus on one task at a time, similar facial features, sketchy eyes, an interest in helping and teaching and OCTOBER BIRTHDAYS! We were there for maybe 10 minutes at dinner last night reciting all the del biancos that we know that have october birthdays. As a final send off for us this morning, when we got to Ines's house, she had sorted for us a packed lunch: The local specialty pide bread, prosciutto, a pint of beer for me, a bottle of water for lyn, some fruit... We tried to say no and almost drew tears- It was funny seeing the same traits of our grandparents in Aus so far away from home it would have made us home sick if we di

Firenze

Following in our established patterns, we got to the station at 9:35am in Firenze to find out about our 9:40am train, buy tickets and get onto it. Getting the tickets wasnt an issue- Finding the first destination, platform and location was. Come 9:40 we found the info centre, and they laughed while telling us "stazione dicasette, per numero dicasei e avanti, avanti, avanti! Pronto!" roughly translated, that means start running now to make up the kilometer to your train, oh and you have 10 seconds to do it. In the end, score another point for public transit systems having a laugh at our expense. Like thundering elephants up the wet and slippery outdoor train platform, huffed and puffed with our 20 plus kilos of Luggage and made it onto the train. 20 minutes later, we are rolling off the platform. Every train that matters that we have caught (metro aside) has been late yet we keep stressing about missing them. Ah well- this will be one of the last ones now I guess- We are on the plane back home in 1 week!

Yesterday we got into the free hostel-run tour of Firenze with a bunch of others from the hostel. It went past all the big things in town and was pretty cool. The chick even pointed out to us the hidden local spots for meals and coffees amongst the rip off tourist merchants around town. For example- I checked out a leather jacket for 900 EUR in one shop. The market the guide pointed out was 130 EUR. The first shop was just having a laugh though- Lyn found a fur coat for 38,000 EUR. thats $75,000 AUD and it looked like the fish suit steveo wore in Jackass, only it was made from fox tails, not pilchards. After the tour of Firenze's history and architecture we hit the Uffizi which is a huge art gallery full of ancient paintings from the Renaissance- Da Vinci, Rembrandt, Boticelli, Michelangelo, Galileo... Bugger though, the statue of david was out for restoration, Rembrandts were closed off, some of Da Vinci had been taken down, and the Gallileo room was closed. One random thing we noticed in every painting: The second toe is longer than the big toe. Also the fact 70% of the paintings were madonna and child, but they never depicted anything about his dad, and there were only three paintings, two of which by Da vinci, that acnowledged he was from the middle east in the buildings, and surrounding date palms, but he sill had a caucasian face and white skin... I stuck my head into the Da Vinci room, trying not to set off another alarm and had a quick look around. That bloke seriously looks like he travelled to the future, stole an engineering encyclopedia and came back home. Catapults, trebuchets, scales, helicopters, cranes... These were all frescos around the room, and the entire ceiling was covered in other designs of his.

The duomo and cathedrals around Firenze are amazing- We saw the royal (Medici Family) cathedral in town that remains unfinished- Beffore the marble cladding is applied, its just made of dark coloured rocks and mortar, with stepped horizontal ledges jutting out of the wall every foot or so. Seeing the finished product on the surrounding chapels, Im undecided what looks better. Builders of today I have noticed are a little different- this hidden wall had everything perfectly flat, level and uniform. Having seen modern houses in construction with fine exaples like the smashed brick chunks concreted together and shoved in holes, strips of gang nails to make up for dodgy measurements and walls that dont even resemble right angles, its no surprise that these buildings have lasted 600 years. The Marble facades that we came across here have been some of the most elaborate as well. Tiny intricate etchings and inlays in the marble, similar to those in marocco on soft chalk rock, are all over here- in some places they run the length of the duomo and are every few metres up- its no surprise it took 150 years to finish! The fact theres two 45m wide self-supporting domes with a stone staircase between them on the roof about 8 storeys in a time where they didnt have computer modelling, or even cranes is crazy!

After the Uffizi, we hadd arranged for a small group of us to head out for dinner so we wandered around the cobblestoned streets, through leather, clothes and jewellery street markets freezing our extremities and passing the time. In between we noticed a swanky gold-plated and marble facaded coffee shop that had a queue out the door and decided to stop in for a drink. Lyn and Becky got cioccoladas then had games trying to make the spoons stand up in the cup these things were so thick. By the time we left it was bloody freezing. I cant describe how cold it was- not really windy, but my arms, knees and face were numb and Becky taught us the ways of layering every jumper you posess ontop of each other- then pissed herself laughing because we didnt know about it before- She is from Brandon, Canada: it gets to 40 below there- to which we explained its about 80 degrees C hotter than that in our home country at the moment.

Dinner was at a local firenze place- It seriously looked like a hole in the wall pub with a pizza oven in the front corner. I asked for a tavola per otto, and we were led around a back corner... where the place opened out to a restaurant the size of a basketball court! Wierd. At the table we had Japanese, Canadian, French, German, American and Australian contingents and had a blast- Come the end, the table was full of origami, words scrawled on place mats in every other language and maps of recommended places to go. Something new I came across was from Matt from Colorado- he is a teacher at a waldorf school which is totally different to the traditional schooling systems I am used to. The same teacher stays with you from grade 1 through 8, and the lesson plans focus on incorporating physical actions and training mental stimuli to aid in the learning process at an early age over the traditional education building, then building on those mental patterns during the latter years to speed up the learning process.

The first day that we awoke in Firenze, we headed to the nearby Medieval walled city of Siena. Greeted by a huge fort, it gave a pretty sweet view over the city of the old town- every house with terracotta rooves, built of stones into steep hill sides, and overshadowed by enormous cathedral towers. Walking the streets there was just as cool- at every third intersection there was a new attraction and something new to see. The town boasts the biggest Cathedral in the world... Yep, its big. For lunch we stopped into a local hole in the wall near the Mensa Uni for a bite. We asked for a menu: No. I asked for a beer: No. We gave up and went with his suggestions after that. Lasagne primo piatti and a secondo piatti of chicken meatballs, chicken cutlets, fagioli and the mystery one: Myale something... Pigs liver. I wasnt that upset when my knife slipped and I frisbee'd the ball across the table. no liver for me. Im still not sure how our meal came to 36 EUR ($72 AUD) for the two of us, given the meals on the "menu" outside the front door said 4.50 each though. After that we continued our stagger through town, and on our way to the botanical gardens got lost in a uni, hospital and a kids playground. Needless to say, the petting zoo got a call up. Im not sure what they feed the animals- maybe viagra or something, but they need some divisions in there. There were two creatures in the thing that were the wierdest concoctions I have ever seen. A black Turkey-duck-goose-rooster and behind it a waddling Duck-platypus-turkey. Either way, Im sure they are all delicious, marinated in a selection of the kids' herb garden produce.

The food here in the Tuscany region has been awesome, but expensive. The local specialties of Ribbolita, Bistecca alla Florentine and Trippa alla Florentine are awesome, aside from one thing: Bistecca Alla Florentine. Its a rare-cooked T-bone with salt and pepper seasoning. What the hell? glad I didnt fork out the $40 AUD for it now.

Cool... our first serious snow! Looking out the window of the train there are rolling tree-topped mountains, the trees only sticks and covered completely in snow. The black rocks of the mountains are pretty well hidden in a blanket of while that only stops at vertical drops and under some of the larger olive trees fields. Thank crap I know about the layering now! I still cant bring myself to wear a scarf and gloves though- the next stop after that would probably be aviators and ugh boots. haha- Lynda just got back from the train toilets with a huge grin and raving about how disability accessible they are. She has gone off to snap some photos off a train carriage toilet bowl and is happy as a pig in the proverbial.

We are on our way to see the family in Rimini, and Im really not sure how it will work out now. They dont speak english, we dont speak italian... We do have a couple of gifts though, and its our aunt's birthday tomorrow and we both know the happy birthday song in italian, so we should have a win. Points to Lyn for doing the phone call to them last night- she still has no idea who she spoke to, but struggled through a "can you pick us up from the train station at noon" in italian. Im hoping there will be someone there... No idea how late the train is already though, but its 11:21am, we still need to get to Faenza and catch another train to Rimini- Im hoping they wait, whoever they are and whatever they look like.

Roma!

"NO. I don't want to break a 50" Call of the day from Lynda. Yep- she was referring to using a 50 cent coin in the train ticket machines. We made it into Rome yesterday from Napoli, jumped the metro into the Spanish steps area and went in search of the accommodation that a group of American travellers told us was everywhere around here. Long story short, we found nothing suitable. As much as I would have happily done the 4-star hotel thing, my bank balance is already having kittens over the price of stuff here. After we had enough of funny prices from 4-star hotels, we hit the marble clad first ever McDonalds store in Italy to use their free wifi. Unfortunately you need to register with an Italian mobile to get access, so out of luck. With the help of the lonely planet book we jumped back on the metro, got off at Termini (Rome central station) and went in search of a bed. 60 euro a night later, we had a nice place with 3 beds, sat TV, a kick arse plasma and were sorted. The initial plan was to head straight back out for some sightseeing, but our running around town after the TV was switched onto the BBC channel, Me Lyn and Will got stuck on a game of catch-up on world affairs. Did you know a fuel tanker was seized by pirates a few days back? How the hell does that happen??!

A few beeros from the local supermarket and some Basement Jaxx later, it was time to head out. We hit a cafe-bar around the corner from our Hotel, Hotel Viennese and got in some cheeky beers over a chat to some Romanian blokes at the table next to us. They pointed us in the direction of a pub up the road, and we set off. A bit of an eye opener to Rome prices: 6 Euro for a 400mL beer. Fair shake of the sausage- That's a bloody outrage! The Swedish back packing bar tender was mystified why we thought it was expensive, saying it was the cheapest place around, and soon we found out she wasn't joking. We decided to get in on a pub crawl for some cheaper entertainment so I tried to navigate our way to the meeting point for it. Along the way I took a wrong turn, realised 100m later and turned back. Lyn gave me 10 minutes of shit over it and I cracked it- glad we had Will as a mediator there! Its been good seeing other people and groups travelling around and seeing how badly we could be going, like the couple that almost had a brawl after a heated argument with each other when we told them they were at the wrong platform in Napoli. Lyn got a compliment from a local Pizza man when we stopped in for a quick dinner of Calzone at a pizzeria near the main station- A bum followed us in and was very vocally begging for cash inside the shop when the shopkeeper noticed and was about to tell him to get out when quick as a flash Lynda whipped out the "VA VIA!!!" Nice work.

In the pub crawl, it was 20 EUR, there is all you can drink the first hour, free pizzas, drink specials and free entry to the pubs- good deal, but we rocked up 3/4 the way through the first hour and then the drinks stopped early than we got denied drink specials at one of the bars. The pizza was good though. Myself, Will and Lyn are still mystified just how the hell we each smashed through 70 Euro in about an hour of buying drinks. Oh yeah- Beers were 5 Euro for a half-pint. Thats a joke. It was a good night all up- a bunch of us had a good laugh when I spotted a chick still wearing her reading band, and pointed it our to Lyn who commented on it with a "Err ya bogan what the hell are you still wearing that for?" The chick snubbed Lyn and Lyn spent the rest of the night wondering what she did wrong. It was a nice change having a vast majority of non-Aussies on the crawl. Most of the city here seems like Americans, and on the tour there was about 80% US, the other 15 a mix of UK, Swedish, Australian and European. I did my bit for the country in a drinking comp, and still say it was rigged- I want a photo finish on that one.

The next day, after saying our goodbyes to Will at 5am so he could catch his plane to Sofia, We copped a good 4.5 hours sleep and picked up a 4 EUR all day train pass and hit the biggest of the city's sights. Best value ever, and it sure helped with the blown budget from that pub crawl last night! The hangover just setting in and still drunk from last nights shenanigans, we trekked our way to the Colosseum, Vatican, Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, Fountain of Trident, Repubblica, Arc de Constantine.. it was pretty cool. We also saw the obelisk that the Romans stole from Egypt, cut into pieces then reconstructed. After wandering around the Piazza that is Flaminio for a bit, we realised it was actually the Roman Empire's trophy cabinet. Chinese obelisks, Sphinxes, Egyptian Obelisks, Greek Statues... All the pillaged cultural icons from other countries acquired under Roman rule. Nearby we hit a museum that showed the Roman empire's expansion through Europe and it was impressive to see the rapid growth of the empire- It almost looked like they were not contested with in their invasions they spread that far. Come sunset, we made a move back to jump on, no lie: the most packed train I have EVER been on. and wound up our lightning visit of Rome. $50 AUD of shopping at the railway supermarket later, we had all the gear to make elaborate sandwiches (stale bread, a block of cheese and some cold sliced meat) and some fruit for the train ride. Ouch! Everything here is over priced- I'm glad we are heading off soon. Again the Moroccan Shoe-knife that I'm told was a dumb impulse buy at the time has been the most used item this trip and saved the day again here.

Random weird Italian stuff- here in Italy you need to register to use the Internet- Either a drivers license or a passport is essential to get online. Makes me wonder what it was that set them off to be that cautious. At local supermarkets, Fanta is available in Cherry, Orange, Grape, and a new one I haven't seen before: Chinotto! Sitting in trains, buskers come through with piano accordions and play a tune- nice way to break up a trip across town. And again, yet another country where everyone is very well dressed and we are the bogans of the town yet again. I did see one chick wearing a set of thongs in he train and I guessed she may have been homeless... then I saw a black wolf backpack next to her- JAFA.

Napoli

With Nonna's words of advice to avoid Napoli like the plague ringing clear in our minds, we got off the train in Napoli at the outer Garibaldi station and followed the crowds, ever conscious of keeping our hands in our pockets over our wallets and valuables, and for good reason. Not 3 hours earlier in Rome I had a hand in my jacket pocket- maybe he was just trying to keep warm.
Napoli has a running history as a Gang land town- akin to Melbourne, but in Napoli it is actually a functional underworld that runs the city. In the past year there has been some debate over the adequacy of the local government as the refuse systems in place fell into disarray because of an underworld falling out. Garbage piled on the streets after a feud between underworld figures caused the trash collection to become non-existent. The reported number of shootings is dropping, but that could just be because they are not being reported. We took it all with a grain of salt as we navigated our way about 6 stations from the edge of town to our hostel station Portici del Liberta. It did give us a laugh though as we walked down the bustling shop lined city street, and we were greeted with what we though was a public open air disco that turned out to be the aftermath of something a little more sinister. An Ambulance- the first on the scene, with its crew of 3 standing on the sidewalk obviously stressed, paced frantically as police on motorbikes and cars tried to pick their way through the peak hour 6pm traffic and the crowd of around 400 on-lookers that was growing, forming their own barrier a good 20m away. We wondered what was happening, until the police arrived and we noticed the medics were refusing to enter the building until they had a police escort- A bit unusual we thought. We never did find out what happened there, and took it as our cue to leave when the count got to 2 ambulances, 5 police vehicles, a fire and rescue truck and a number of local carabinieri. Welcome to Napoli!

Our hostel here is pretty sweet I have to say. 14 EUR, free internets, a number of huge flat screen TVs around, sat TV, a huge DVD collection, instruments to whip out and jam with, a ping pong table and 1.50 EUR 660mL Peroni beeros! The last carton of Peroni I scored in Aus set me back $48- here it works out to $20 at pub prices. The rave-style strobe and siren welcome to town aside, the place has been a sweet experience and a stark contrast from what we were expecting. We are based in the cheaper part of town, our street becoming a 1km long market place every day, the main street a mix of one-euro stores and top end fashion, and the traino connecting us to everything we were interested in: Sorrento beach, Amalfi coast, Pompeii, town... Awesome.

The first day into it, we decided to scrap our initial plans of a pompeii trip and headed with Will, the part-time accountant and full time traveller/rally driver/drinking buddy from Tassie (not sure where that is) and hired a Renault to cruise the winding Amalfi coast road towards Salerno. I was more than happy to ride shotgun on this one with Will behind the wheel and as I navigated our way through town and down the coast, I once again got a new appreciation for Lynda's skills at navigation when I have driven as I discovered street with no signs, ones that are not marked on the map when they quite clearly exist outside the comfortable metal cage we were sheltering from the local crazies in, and other streets that are marked on the map as being 2-way, but are quite the opposite, and you will be losing your deposit if you argue with the stream of buses coming down them. At the tip of the peninsula that Sorrento beach is on, we once again discovered the elusive figs and I contracted Will to share my burden. Long story short: the sour grapes fable extends to figs. If I had my drag chain from my 4WD here, there would be a legacy of fig tree devastation trailing our Renault Scenic.

Along the coast there were all sorts of pleasant and not so pleasant scenes to be seen- not so pleasant is a public or tourist coach spontaneously appearing in the middle of the road at the apex of a blind hairpin corner. On the other extreme is the sight of a sparkling sunset across an ocean facing mountain side, now converted to a giant staircase of white washed hotels and houses precariously balanced on rocky outcrops chiseled into the cliff. At the half way point from Sorrento to Salerno, we stopped in at a local restaurant that was perched on stilts at a hairpin bend. The view was awesome across the olive tree fields and whitewashed houses with bright orange terracotta rooves as we got stuck into the Napoli specialities- local vino, antipasto and pasta/brace. Come 6pm we tried to head back to return the car- say tried, as the Autostrada that criss crosses Italy can be a bit of a challenge at the best of times, let alone peak hour. A 4-way intersection we came across for example quickly deteriorated into a 5-lane traffic jam of cars facing any of 10 different directions. I have to salute will on his use of the horn and traffic jam finesse- Conservative but effective, we were up there with the locals- merging, tooting and swerving with the best of them. Armed with his trusty whistle-compass we managed to get ourselves across 4 different highways and back into familiar territory senza scrapes or any panel damage!

The next day after a bit of a boozeathon with the other hostel residents studying 3rd class captaincy at a local uni for their fishing trawler, tanker and freight liners, we set off to Pompeii. Smashed by an earthquake in the first century AD, the town was under some serious reparations and rebuilding efforts by the emperor Octavius when there was a thundering boom, followed by 2 days of darkness and the town was covered in 2m of rock debris from the volcano Mount Vesuvius the town had previously sheltered in the shadow of. The weight of the rock collapsed rooves, choked the population and deprived everyone of food, water and to further challenge them the darkness drove some to madness, murder, pillage and suicide. Its a sad tale to hear- even if you managed to live through what was the daylight, the falling ash over the night as you tried to sleep would crush or choke you if you didn't constantly brush our self off. Of those that died, the encasing ash that settled and hardened on them formed perfect moulds, trapping in time their facial expressions, clothing and actions. The museum curator of the ruined city from there founded the process of plaster casts, simply by pouring in plaster, letting it harden then removing the ash-rock layer and exposing the perfect reproduction of the person trapped inside. The casts on display were pretty impressive in detail and quality, and the way the ash had preserved the buildings was amazing. Walking down streets, you could tell where 2nd Century shopping malls were, see hotels, fast food places, bakeries, and the bit I loved: every other house had an outdoor pizza oven. Where else, but where the pizza was invented: Napoli! The Chinese can take the claim over inventing noodles, but I think the credit for the golden discs of nutritionally barren deliciousness is safe with the Nepolitans.

On that topic, we couldn't get away without trying the local cuisine, and decided to make it something a little different on our 100th night of travelling together. On recommendation from Will we hit a nearby pizzeria- Starlight. Between the three of us hungry hippos, I thought the Starlight special wouldn't be enough so we got an extra small pizza. Dumb idea. The starlight special came out, and what a masterpiece. Each slice was totally different, and more for the sake of me recreating it later, each slice was: Prosciutto, sauce, radicchio, Parmesan; Hazelnuts, ricotta; french fries, cabanossi, sauce; spinach, broccoli, pork sausage, sauce; sweet corn, ricotta, ham; fresh tomato, mozzarella, sauce; funghi, ham, sauce; marghherita. After that half a metre diameter pizza art work, the second pizza was definately not needed but like the Aussie battlers we are, we powered through it. When they brought up the nutella-hazelnut freebie dessert pizza though, we were in struggle town. Come the end, we rolled back downhill to our hostel and got stuck into the Amalfi brewed limoncello well fed and faring much better at our Italian skills thanks to the Romanian waitress we had that helped us along the way.

There have been a few things that have stuck with us we will take away from Napoli- another confirmation that every warning and advisory should be taken with a grain of salt, the fact that as much as me and Lyn can speak some basic Italian, we should never attempt conversation and that Napoli people should never be blamed for the hideous combination that should be left to rot in dodgy supermarket freezers: "Nepolitan Ice Cream". I have to say as well that there have been more than a few times now, walking through europe with its 2000+ years of history, art, architecture, cultural and government systems that I have been somewhat humbled but embarrassed as well at our Australian roots. Over the 60,000 years of Aboriginal inhabitant in our Flat brown land we had hit the scientific pinnacle at the boomerang, and further, it is only the kids toy version that returns to you! Yes, if you didn't know, throwing a stick that turns corners at something you want to kill and eat is an unnecessary challenge.

On our last night in the hostel, the Moroccan night shift bloke fired up on the big screen a movie that he recommended: Babel. It was pretty cool- Its an art house flick that has an abrupt ending, and doesn't follow the usual conflict, resolution, closure pattern of western movies which just pissed me off but it was good. Based in Morocco, it tells the story of a poor goat farmer that buys a rifle and his kid, shooting at targets decides to try a pot shot on a tourist bus driving through the deserts in Morocco, and nails a tourist inside. It was a different twist, and put a new perspective on the whole regulations that control how tourists movements across the country. It was pretty cool seeing the sights, food and hospitality of Morocco again in a new light. As we knocked back our limoncello, cheap beers and lounged on bean bags in front of the enormous plasma watching the movie I was glad we made it through the place and back to the western culture we are so used to.

Getting a little homesick, we decided it was a good time to Bogan it up, and tried to use every Australian saying we could think of for the rest of the day. Like the troopers we are, they were flowing thick and fast- Everything from bashed crabs, pissing in pockets and shaking sausages to skinning cats and dead dingoes. Its been a pretty good laugh.

The Italian Job

I never thought grade 5 Italian would save my arse- In fact if my Italian teacher would have told me back then that If I didn't learn the phrase "Apri la porta, per favore!" I would be lugging my 30 kilos of baggage across a foreign town completely lost and looking for my sister, I'd have called her a nut job. After getting off the ferry at Ancona, we jumped on a bus to try and head into town. After the bus finished its second complete round circle of town, we realised that wasn't going to work for us, and at the last minute we decided to bail from the bus at what looked like a station. Lyn got off successfully and as my day pack slipped from my hands and fell on the floor of the bus I watched as the bus doors closed, the bus pulled out and we were back off on our way. As I contemplated how I could complete the rest of the journey without our beloved shared toothpaste tube and umbrella, I realised I was lost and attempted my own variation of makiton for "wait there". Luckily the articulated city caterpillar that made up our bus got a red light further up the street and I was able to display my fluent Italian skills to the driver that could barely understand my rendition of "Ciao- tu parli Ingleze?" and I managed to get off in the middle of an intersection. I'm not sure what further surprises I'll be coming across today- maybe I'll actually find a use for being taught the formula for calculating the area of an arc or something.

We shifted plans again today- due to coming into Ancona (half way up the back of the boot that is Italy) we are waaay north of our intended destination of Bari, so now its back onto a train to Rome, then another train to the Mafia run city of Napoli, then hopefully a day trip to Mount Vesuvius in Pompeii.

Croatia!

Elusive bloody figs. 6 million damn fig trees on this Croatian island, and not one ripe fig anywhere! I'm starting to hate Lynda over this fig obsession she has got me onto- I didn't even like figs when I started this holiday and now I cant walk past a tree without scouring it for the soggy little black goo droplets! We have spent the morning hiking around the Island of Hvar, up mountains, ramparts, cobblestone streets and roads just checking the place out. It is pretty bizarre seeing restaurants with a field of laid out tables in a piazza, and not one person actually sitting at them, because peak season closed down 2 months ago... Apparently. Personally, I'm loving this time of year to do the touring around- warm and sunny during the day, no crowds, prices that drop by 50% if you ask and transport that you can always seem to find a seat on. After we climbed the hill overlooking the city of Hvar, we got to the castle and, same as the Chapel in town, we got free entry because there is no one at the front gate collecting admission fees. Sweet deal.

For lunch, we did another local run- Lyn got the Scampi fettuccine, I went in for a local favourite the beef stew, and a drop of the local. Great feed, and half the price of the high season menus. Hvar had been a feather in Croatia's hat so far- I don't think we could have done better with the accommodation if we tried (same prices as lonely planet listed hostels) the free wine and cheese and next days breakfast just topped it. The owner of the hotel was more than happy to make sure we made it onto the bus back to the ferry too- really nice bloke. I'm not sure where the people catching the bus were hiding though- they just seemed to pour out from every street corner like pigeons when someone drops a pack of birdseed. The bus filled to capacity by the time we rolled out of the station, and I swear this sleepy town shed a tear as its population halved in that instant. The ferry we are on at the moment half way back to split to meet our overnight sleeper ferry to Ancona, Italy is chock a block full. We had to squeeze in at the smokers lounge its that packed! Where were these people hiding?!

The Hvar castle was pretty cool- rebuilt 3 times since 11th century, changed hands more times than can be counted, between Turks, Austrians, Croats, Spanish and Venetians it holds a fair history. Perhaps one of the more ironic pieces- it saved the town in the 16th century when they were invaded by pillaging Turks, as they garrisoned in the castle. Not 2 months later, lightning struck the gunpowder battery and blew the place to shreds, damaging parts of the town below as well. It was rebuilt and later in the 19th Century, it was abandoned, but still locals like to believe that "Fairies dance in it at night". I don't know where that one came from- perhaps a little too much rakija. Now its just home to overpriced Chevapcici and a dry bar- Personally I enjoy the fairies over a bar that is in reality a mirage.

Im no longer surprised by the amount of olive oil or wine that I have seen our Croatian contingent in Aus consuming now. No lie: every second tree here is an olive tree, and every third seems to be a grape vine- Its bizarre. In between those, on the side of the road, free for all, there has been: lemons, oranges, apples, grapes, figs, rosemary, grapefruit, berries... That's just the ones I can recognise. I can understand why the local supermarket has been closed all day- its entire contents are spread across the road and hanging from trees.

HVAR!

WOW- Royalty ain't got shit on me! Not with my automated wall-mounted massaging shower unit installed in my 4-star penthouse hotel room that me and Lynda Harangued anyways! As I write this, I am lounging on a king size bed, in front of a fat plasma screen TV screening some Sat-TV crap about Guang Dong Province's carbon emissions... wait up, channel 146 has family guy dubbed in German. Much better. When we were shown our room by the bloke we met on the bus from Split to Hvar, me and Lyn- both sporting yesterdays fashions in both style and smell, had to feign disinterest in the room we were shown- past the wood panelled lounge room in front of us was one double bed in a pristine room the size of a small house. As far as we were concerned, we could look past the bed sharing thing in a place like this! But, after we explained the family connection between us, the owner grunted in understanding, and led us up another 3 flights of stairs to the penthouse suite... with another king size double bed! oh... and in another bedroom the two king singles, along with the study room, toilet, bathroom... yep- for $100 AUD a night for both of us. Again, feigning disinterest I scammed a free "small breakfast" into the price, then free mini bar. As he was about to leave, I asked the owner if there were any places open nearby for dinner or at least a beer- As its out of tourist season now, the place is pretty dead! He said "Come downstairs" and disappeared.

When I got down to the basement of his- A 4-star restaurant at the base of his 4-star hotel, I was blown away by the quality of the place- it was like the Hilton, but everything here was brand new! Then, I got popped the question: "Do you like wine?" Well, I wasn't about to lie to the bloke, so I asked how much as he whipped out an 8-litre tub and filled a 1 litre carafe for me. "HAHAHA Don't worry!" he said- I'm not sure if he was referring to taking just my wallet or one of my kidneys- I guess I'll find out tomorrow. As I'm about to leave he also asks if I like Cheese- well, I'm not lactose intolerant by any stretch, so before I know it, i have a plate of wedges of half a wheel of pecorino, a small orchard of black olives and a basket of bread. Time to leave and its back off to any one of our satellite TVs in our suite to kick back and enjoy Hvar, Croatia for all it is from what we have seen so far: A backpacker's paradise full of friendly people, great food and wine and sweet views- And that's only in the first few hours! I love this place! I did take interest when the owner said he had a friend that had lived on the island and now moved to Australia- So I had to ask about Luci. Now the owner swears he knows someone from Luci's family that speaks great english and will try and track them down for me tomorrow! haha.

Dubrovnik, Croatia

No amount of preparation could have had us ready for the onslaught that began once we hit the Croatian bus station in the Medieval city of Dubrovnik! We looked out the window of the bus, and there standing next to us was a bloke holding a sign: Lynda, Joshua, Benjamin. This was the first time we had actually had a pickup with our names on a placard, and it was completely unorganised and unexpected, especially after the monumental stuff up our hotel pulled in Brunei. We all piled off the bus to head to our palacial accommodation with the bloke, until... POW! the group was split. There were war widows coming out of the woodwork like shady Egyptian salesmen crossed with Barcelonian prostitutes. After grabbing arms and spinning our group members in circles ranting all kinds of accommodation catch phrases, we had no idea what to do. In the end we had to regroup and literally tell the spruikers to push off while we sorted it out. In the end we pitted them against each other and settled with the bloke that had our placard. We got some of the best and cheapest accommodation this trip and had a laugh the whole time: 10 EUR each, free Internet, breakfast, our own terrace dining area... Good score.

Once we got there it was pretty amazing and we knew we made the right call. Perched on a cliff overlooking Babin Kuk, the beach and the Croatian standard of green rolling hills littered with white stone cottages with terracotta rooves, and surrounded by a fruit salad of trees bursting with oranges, pears, kiwi fruit, lemons... From all accounts, the other women spruikers at the bus depot are regulars- War widows that put a few spare beds in their spare rooms and rent them out at 10 EUR a piece. They say anything to get you to their place, then they sleep on the washing machine in the laundry when you think the place is yours. Theres also the down side of a 400 EUR fine if you get caught staying in one of those black market accommodation spots instead of a licensed tourist board lodging. Did I mention we had a kitchen in our apartment?

After settling in, scoffing a bucket of oranges, and everyone being amazed at seeing their first ever kiwi fruit tree, we got directions to the local supermarket and the four of us blokes started down the Jacobs ladder to score some groceries, while Lyn rested up with a killer migraine. An hour later, we had 400 KN of food ($100 AUD), including all the gear for pasta, cooked garden veggies, salad, garlic bread and a healthy 10 litres of Lowenbrau. Highlights of the cook up: 3 people trying to cook in a 1-person kitchenette, Trying to cook 5x dessert puddings that had instructions written completely in Croatian, baking garlic bread without an oven, trying to boil a kilo of pasta on a stove that was running out of gas and had the incinerating power of 2x cigarette lighters, and trying to prepare everything on the menu with the one blunt machete that was provided. The next night, just to appreciate the ordeal, Lyn cooked us all up a Mushroom and herb Risotto, garden salad, herb loaf and topped with a fruit platter and the puddings from last night- also with the one blunt machete, and skill tester stove. Both meals came out awesomely, went down a treat and impressed everyone- a pretty good team effort I gotta say. It was a pretty awesome experience too and nice wind down after a fat day of walking around, just taking a seat, sinking some brews and having a good chat with the others in the guest house we were in.

The first day we shared in Dubrovnik was awesome. Raining lightly in the morning, it cleared up by the time we were out the door, and we started the 40 minute walk from our accommodation to the historic walled town of Dubrovnik. Along the way we were surprised with local stalls of fruit and veg markets, local craft produce, as well as a wealth of restaurants and shops ranging from 2-buck store equivalents to Gucci, DG and BVLGARI stores. When we got to the walled city, it was an eye opener. Walls in areas a good 50m tall, ramparts that would have put to shame the London tower, and the resilience of the people inside untouched after the war had locally inflicted so much damage on the town. We went for a walk around, checking the port, castle, granary, fountains, monastery and a bunch of other attractions before heading home. Whilst kicking back in a piazza pub knocking back espressos, I felt something I can only liken to the 4:45pm blast in Kalgoorlie- but here there is no subway, and there is no way a wave could have done it. Speaking with other people back in our hostel that felt it there 6km away, I reckon we copped an earthquake- still not sure though, and as my pocket Richter scale is busted at the moment...

On our last night in the apartment, we were shooed out of the place by the caretaker due to late night noise, and made the only logical decision that we could in that situation: To relocate to the nearest body of water. That made complete sense, especially given that it was below 10 degrees, about 1am on a Friday night and we all had our beer coats on. A short bag-packing session later, we were off back down Jacob's ladder towards the bizarrely empty 1km long mall and on a mission to track down the nearest beach. We found it on the wrong side of a fence however, but as the place seemed deserted, a bit of a wall scaling mission later we were all on the path to a better place: hypothermia. It did cause a laugh when I noticed on the way out we were a maximum of 5 metres away from an open gate large enough to drive a truck through and we didn't have to risk our skulls on the wall scaling at all... ah well. The water was surprisingly warm at ankle depth, bit of a shame that was all it was warm until though. 10 minutes later, there were 6 shivering clowns splashing around the Adriatic Sea at 1am taking cheesy photos with a waterproof camera, its blowing a gale and freezing outside and then next thing we see, half the town is awake and have come to have a laugh at us! Refreshing- glad I did it, but even more glad I had long pants and a ski jacket to get back into after. I'm still not sure about our shady human beat box about 100m away from us hiding in a tree sounding like a one man domestic abuse session mixed with a capoaira soundtrack.

Leaving Dubrovnik, Josh, Lyn and I decided to go in for a hire car for 60 EUR instead of forking out the 50 EUR for bus tickets to do the same journey- a pretty good call I reckon. On the 4-hour trip to Split, we made a detour out one of the groynes coming off the mainland towards Cortula and caught a few wineries along the way- including one bloke that had a cellar full of fruit fly, with a side of rakia in Mandarin, Lemon, Apricot and Mint flavours as well as the more common olive oil, red and white wines of the Dalmatia region. After a few samples and take home souvenirs, we set off and had a European lunch another hour up the road, overlooking the absurdly early sunsets we are getting used to now at 4pm, looking over the top of an oyster and mussel-farming lake surrounded on all sides by 4-star hotels and chateaus. At the base of the groyne was Stone- A small medieval walled town with the oldest running 4000 year old salt workshop. We dropped into the biggest local restaurant for a coffee and to check out their aquaculture tanks. I'm always impressed by the old Chinatown tanks the size of a small car that seem to hold a months seafood in them in the front windows of shops- This one put them to shame! It was a chain of 5 tanks, moving from Eels and Oysters to Crays, Crustaceans and shellfish to Fish and rays to any other boutique or tropical fish in the last tank! While we were marvelling at the setup, the English speaking waiter had a chat to us about the local attractions and sorted us out with a kilo of the region's finest sea salt, and passed on a gentle notice on Josh's TITO communist leader T-Shirt saying it may not be that welcome around the country- actually he seems quite polarising, but I think that's more on his womanising policies rather than the communism principles he hammered through the country here. Incredibly friendly crowd here!
We also managed to see the tail end of a Croatian wedding in a country town, and saw the traditional dancing on the main drag as we drove past, followed by a 12 car long synchronised horn procession through every main street in town- good show.

Come the end of the night, we tracked down a ferry to Hvar, booked it in for 8:30pm and raced off to find the rental drop off and fill up the 1.3 litre diesel Fiat beast that has been our rocket on wheels before bolting across the Adriatic to our Island home for the next day. Everything done and dusted, we trekked over to Our Ferry laying wait, said our final Goodbyes to Josh, the 19 year old Melbournian solo traveller and headed in for a relaxing 1:50 hour cruise to the nearby island I have heard so much about.

Sarajevo, Bosnia

"They eyre fecking Wankyers!" yelled by a Frenchman didn't sound as offensive as what I was thinking about those two tossers... We had our bags packed after a fat night that only wound up a few hours ago and almost missed our tram when struggling to buy tickets at the nearest vendor when the cow shut her sales window on us for no apparent reason. After finding another kiosk and buying tram tickets as the tram pulled up to the stop, we noticed we had 5 minutes to make the 7 minute tram ride before our bus left the station from Sarajevo, Bosnia to Dubrovnik, Croatia. We made it onto the tram as the doors closed- each person loaded with a backpack, day pack and a few shopping bags in preparation for the 8 hour bus ride ahead of us, and dropped our bags with a sigh. Next station, an inspector comes through and as asks for our tickets we realise we forgot to validate the things! He is all cool with that though and collects them off us, walks to the front of the tram to pass them through the validation machine and we are on our way! What we were not expecting was the second inspector to come through asking for our tickets another 2 stops down the line. After failing for another 2 stops to explain that our tickets were still with the other inspector, I went over and got him and our tickets back. The second inspector didnt really care though, said we didnt have tickets, and said we would have to pay a fine- somehow that worked its way from 26 KM (13 EUR) for all of us, to 60 KM, then to 70 bloody euros. What the shit? We purchased the tickets, the first inspector was cool after he validated them for us and then this clown jumps on his high horse. Long story short, we didnt speak his language, no one spoke ours, they had locked us in the tram and were trying to take our passports or make us wait till the police came. Meanwhile we are watching the minutes tick past before the only bus to Dubrovnik leaves... We ended up giving the joker his 70 euros as we were already 10 mins late for the bus, but he kept the doors locked until he got all our original tickets back off us so we had nothing to argue the case with aside from his badge number. I reckon he's played that game before.

We thought with the mornings dramas behind us we would now have a trouble free ride into Dubrovnik... haha no. Now that its 10:10 am we now have a problem getting on a 10am bus. We run to the bus station, the great race style- asking directions from people mid-stride as we run past them. We cant find the bus, so Lyn heads into another company's office and asks for us- "Your bus is gone. you need to call them and stop- I will not call them" so she gets a phone number and we continue the great race antics of now trying to find a pay phone. Sorted- theres one in front of the post office around the corner. Problem: It only takes phone cards. Thats cool- one of our group has a mobile in their bag... oh snap "Number disconnected" Ok... theres a telephonist in the postie. As Lyn and the guys are in the queue for the telephonist I crack the shits and go to give the bus company a serve for telling Lyn to piss off and sort it out for herself. As I get to the bus station, I see the owner of the travel company we got our tickets from and run to him- he cant speak English, but I'm pretty switched on at the old "actions without words" games- He starts his turn. Two words, one involves tapping your left wrist with your fingers, the next word was holding your hands at the 10 and 2 O'clock positions and pretending to steer... I figured it wasn't code for "My wife cooked me an incredible dinner last night and I had a rakia chaser" so bolted to get the others and came back to him, showing off my own interpretation of the game through the post office windows to our group inside after banging so hard it rattled the doors. The owner led us straight to our bus, parked up next to its furious driver after we have now delayed the whole thing 20 minutes, and after paying another fine of 2 Euros per bag (no idea why) we were on the bus and off!! Oh, except for Josh, who they didn't like his ticket and made him buy another. Bosnia: You are welcome to come, but they really don't want you to leave!

The day before was spent in a tour of the town in our newly acquired travel group of 7: Me, Lyn, Ola a student from Albania just moved over to study in Sarajevo, David, Elias, Josh and Guillam- all backpackers from Canada, Switzerland, Australia and France. The first stop of our tour was the Tunnel in Sarajevo that was used as the lifeline to the rest of the world when the Serbian army surrounded the town and tried to wipe it off the map. It was spectacular when we first came into town- The entire city is built in what looks like an enormous volcano crater, and as we skirted the rim in our bus we saw all the sights of town lit up from above and it looked awesome! Its hard to picture that just over 10 years ago, there were blokes seeing the same sight from where we were, but looking down the scope of a rifle and just picking off every last moving target in town instead of marvelling at it. When I say every last moving target, I mean anything- Women, Children, the old, animals- whatever. I didn't appreciate it until I saw office blocks on film- people at work, people eating, people walking on the street, then a shell flies in and Boom! theres a flash and people are blown apart, and a fire engulfs the building again and again. After seeing nothing but normal people, their workplaces, their houses, their cars being blown away by missiles, gun fire and grenades on film for 10 minutes solid it gave us a pretty harsh appreciation of what the hell this city went through. Hard as it would be leaving my home town if I lived there, after trying to get to work and slipping over the blood of people from your hometown pouring down the streets, I'd be out of there. Oh yeah- that wasn't an option because the entire town was surrounded by a foreign army with guns and artillery, and you have a rock. The fact it took 6 months for the UN to move in, and even longer before they actually became active in the area is an embarrassment and the 4 years of killings it took to stop is a crime.

The tunnel was installed as a means of entry and egress from the city- it was the only way in and out. The UN Negotiated with the invading Serbian army and took back the airport- the only break in the surrounding ring of Serbian forces in the surrounding hills, and from there the Sarajevo government got engineers to dig for 4 months a 800m long 1.6m tall tunnel from one side of the airport to the other, then through trenches to beyond the sight and range of the Serbs and their sniper positions in the hills. At its peak, 2000 people a day flowed through this tunnel, and over the years it was in operation, that number got to millions. It became the conduit for telecoms, electricity, oil, food and people. The videos we saw of old ladies carrying sacks on their backs of 40kg of food for their families, bend double and shuffling through the semi-frozen water inside the tunnel really said alot for the brevity and defiance of the people that chose to live on in their city under siege.

After the Tunnel tour, we saw a few other parts of town like the winter Olympics bobsled track, some lookouts, historical buildings and the Olympics museum. It caused a few mixed reactions seeing the more crooked than a dogs back legs Juan Antionio Samuranch actually puling the humanitarian string and bringing global attention to the Sarajevo area during Barcelona's 1994 Olympics- I reckon it was to save some face though after the kickbacks from Coca Cola over the Barcelona games though... Every place we went to though, there were still buildings as far as the eye could see with shrapnel damage, hastily patches blast holes and scorch marks.

The first night we got into town we had no accommodation booked so headed into town and just did a quick hike up the main drag with our packs looking for someplace cheap at 10pm... It started at 70 Euro per night, and by the last hostel we got to it was 10 EUR each. We checked in, did a hike of town, our own mini pub crawl and got crashed out. At one of the pubs we started chatting to a couple of blokes that have spent their lives in the city- We talked to them about the life here, and how things are now with the segregated countries. It seems things are pretty well back to normal for them, but if anything they are more well rounded and accepting than others that haven't been through the same tragedies. They also confirmed that the "endless nightlife" in Sarajevo is a lie promoted by lonely planet "We have jobs to go to tomorrow! I have to get sleep!" Admittedly, this was at midnight on a Monday night. The point of smoking being allowed in bars is still frustrating me here- your eyes sting, your clothes stink, and its just all round choking. Id like to think it wasn't that bad back home when smoking was legal in bars. The hostel was pretty average- beds in dorms, a dodgy shower, that's about it. We went for a bit of a hike the next day and tracked down this sweet place- Lion Hostel and found the price was 12 EUR a night for huge comfy beds, marble floors, new showers, a common room, sat TV... oh yeah.

During the next 2 nights we basically went through and tried to convince every other tourist we saw to come along to this other hostel, and it worked pretty well. After we checked out of our first shady hostel, we scammed a free dinner of Cabbage stew, then they tried to bribe us with a free shot of Rakija to stay, but we were out of there! We didn't have the heart to tell the old lady there we were going to a hostel that was like paradise compared to hers, so when her son asked if we were going to stay up all night I just said yes... The old lady took this as "We cant afford to pay" and went on to offer us a free spot on her office floor- nice of her. Once we managed to break free of there with all but 2 of the other residents of her hostel, I dropped into a supermarket and picked up a few hundred biscuits, some snacks and 8 litres of beer and we cranked a poker night back at the hostel all night. It was pretty cool- because we had no poker chips we used biscuits, then because we were using cards from Vienna, the queens were "D" for Dame, and Jacks were "B" for ... yeah I cant remember- I might have to ask Guilleum again. I know his answer will involve his favourite word "JAFA" though "Just another fucking Australian" first time I'd ever heard that one I have to say. He had good laugh too when he bought Jaffa cakes from a shop and gave them out to all the Aussies. It was a pretty good game all up- The winners came down to Elias, David the Casanova from Canada and Guilleum. We have nicknamed David that because in the first day we met him, he got a girl off the streets' number, organised a private tour from another girl he saw in a church, arranged a date with another girl that was on her way out to meet her boyfriend and sweet talked the resident chef into a breakfast date. It was nice of Josh to step in and remind David of his appointments the next day as they came up.

There have been some awesome sights around here- the $3.50 huge pizzas we had for lunch, The spectacular mosques and churches, a thriving mall that weaves its way through cobblestone streets between the mosques, fountains and sparkles with metal workers wares, smelling incredible all day and night long with traditional Bosnian restaurants, bakeries, pubs and cafes. We did learn a valuable thing from cafes here: Turkish coffee is brewed with the sugar inside it- Bosnian it is added in the cup. That and theres a bunch of different coffees you have at different points of the day, breakfast (large) lunch (small), all the way through to the one that, in lay mans terms, "Its time for guests to go home now" coffee. haha. On the point of Turkish hospitality, we also discovered a new cocktail none of us had ever seen before: the "Adios MotherF#$ker I and II" - Its stronger than a long island iced tea- need I say more?

nice.. we just drove past a shopping centre in between two huge mountain valleys, a good 15km from the nearest town of any substance and it is huge. That wasn't all that impressive though- it was the two mini sideshow alley rides out front- The ranger and The rainbow style spinning seated rides that each had seats for 6 kids.

Now we have just crossed the border into Croatia- wow what a difference. The rocks have all turned white like the photos luci has in his house, there are enormous lakes with white stone walled buildings and terracotta tiles all over the place, and the hills are all covered in Mediterranean shrubs, like the stuff we find on beach dunes. I cant believe an entire area can change in appearance once you cross in imaginary line, but it has.