There And Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale By Emily O'Brien

 Hullo,

So I guess I did decide to do one final blog to sum up everything and explain the journey home. It was, to say the least, quite long. And I guess we can talk about me being home because that's also strange.

Our adventure begins one bright sunshiney morning in Venice. Our heroes, Katie and Emily awake early in order to venture out to the mystical land that is The Airport.

One second. I can't write this in third person or I'll go crazy. Let's begin again, shall we? So we woke up early and I took a shower because I knew I wouldn't have another opportunity to be clean until I reached America. One shower later, we headed out to get breakfast, where I performed a flawless execution of ordering my food. Obviously.

Me: Un cappuccino y un ............ donut.

Despite my ordering techniques, I got what I wanted so it all worked out. Katie and I ate pretty quickly before leaving to find an ATM. I had hoped I wouldn't have to withdraw any more cash, but that was incredibly wishful thinking. Being a few euros poorer, we went back to the hostel to check out, collect our stuff and hit the road again. We made it to the water-bus which took us to the airport. It was a rather lengthy ride, but pleasant because Venice is great. Even with the long ride, we made it with a lot of time before our respective flights because I plan on never missing a flight ever again. Should it happen, I will cry all of the tears and my heart will be shattered from distress and will be broken for eternity. So no more missing flights.

Katie's flight left before mine and she learned about her gate and check-in spot well in advance of me. Although we had been hoping to go through security together, it wasn't possible so we said our farewells and parted ways. It was sad to split up because it truly marked the end of my adventure and saying goodbye to an excellent travel companion.

I'm already bored with my traveling. My apologies because it must be even less interesting for you. After we split up, I found out where to check-in and went through security and all that jazz. My flight from Venice to Madrid had an hour long lay-over in Barcelona, the only dicey part of Day One because I had to get my second ticket when I made it there. It was an uneventful trip to Madrid other than that.

I have become quite familiar with the Madrid-Barajas Airport, so I had decided to sleep overnight there before my flight back to the States the next morning. Great plan (sarcasm hand raised). You may recall a couple of posts ago where I was going insane. That was the overnight-in-the-Madrid portion of the trip. I got an overpriced dinner and started looking for wi-fi to help pass the night. I could've paid for it but I was done with spending money so I wrote my new blog post. And read. And played free-cell. And hearts. Somewhere between three and four in the morning I decided that sleep was unimportant. Or something that stupid. I don't know what possessed me to stay up the entire night, but stay up the entire night I did. (Yoda.)

I spent too much time in my head and the coffee I had at six fueled me with energy and crazy. Because my flight was at 10:25 AM, I started looking for my check-in place at 7ish. The Boy Scouts and I now have the same motto: Be prepared and don't be the idiot you goes to Asia and gets stuck on the wrong continent. That's right, right? I had a brief heart attack when one of the employees couldn't find me in the system. Frantically, I called my mommyface, bought half an hour of internet access and found my flight confirmation because hell if I get stuck in the airport another day. Luckily, it all worked out because we are all well aware of the fact that my heart is rather fragile in regards to Missing The Flights.

After making it through security, I ended up being one of the lucky people who also gets searched randomly. Though this is against my principles (Don't touch my stuff. It's where it belongs), I did get to talk to one the guards in Spanish which was already strange after not speaking it for two weeks. The bigger issue, though, was the fact that I had a ton of dirty clothes in my backpack and didn't want the guy to pull out everything. Or look at it. Because, hey airport, look at my underwear. Yeeeeaaaah. I wasn't about that life so much.

After my backpack had been put into order, I began more of the sitting. And waiting. And getting on the plane. I was actually really excited about this plane on account of each seat had their own tiny touchscreen TV so I could choose what music or movies or TV shows to watch and change them at will. True power, my friends. Thankfully, the little screen kept me entertained because I couldn't fall asleep. The flight was really long (9 hours? 10 hours?) and I was unable to be unconscious for any of it. That's right. I stayed up the entire night and was still not successful in sleeping on the plane. What is life?

I eventually landed in Atlanta and went through customs and I got a stamp. I had been worried about this (customs, not the stamp), but I really shouldn't have been because I guess I made it through. I mean, I'm here. I began the more waiting in a place where everything was in ENGLISH. Whut.

Let's speed this up a little. I got on the plane from Minneapolis and was ecstatic to find I was in the middle seat. This plane was less cool than the last one due to no tiny TV and the two-ish hours it took to get to the cities was forever. BUT THEN I SAW MY MOMMY AT THE BAGGAGE CLAIM. Excitement! She informed me we were heading to campus to pick up Tom after his final so I got reunited with the U as well. Surprisingly, I was dressed way too warmly for this adventure because it was over 90 degrees and sweatpants are, apparently, not the thing to wear in this weather. Who knew? By the time we actually made it home, "unpacked," and I caught up with my sister and DAD, I had been awake too long.

The Numbers

Hours Awake: 44

Airports to Get Home: 5

Miles Traveled: Too Damn Many

Seeing the Family: Priceless

It took me a few days to recover from jet-lag because naps always seemed like a good idea and waking up too early. (6 AM: Whyyyyy?) Also there were a few bizarre experiences, including drinking my first glass of milk in four months. Weird. And hanging out with my friends who I hadn't seen in that long. And sharing a car with my siblings. And having my room. WHICH HAS CARPET. (There was too much excitement for the last one.)

Originally, I wrote this blog so I wouldn't actually have to explain all of my adventures to everyone. I guarantee this plan has backfired because I spent a good deal of time fielding a variety of....interesting questions from some members of my family. (You know who you are.)

Questions Already Asked

Did any part of your trip remind you of Lady & the Tramp?

Did they sing to you on the gondola?
Really?

What songs did they sing?

Did you see anyone catch any fish?
What kind?

You might be able to imagine others. Maybe you'll  be the next one to ask me one that could potentially make the crazy list. (If it's about fish, congratulations, you'll make the list.)

FINAL CONCLUSIONS

Travel makes you grateful for people. I appreciate all the strangers who helped me out, however big or small this was. I joked with Katie that if I ever one some big award, I would thank the people who carried my suitcase across Europe and no one else. But seriously. People are great. Sometimes. Let's not get crazy.

More on the people situation: I met people who are awesome and I had a great time just being around them because no one had time to play games and put on a facade. Company, it seems, makes travel better.

I found out a lot about myelf. I feel more confident in my ability to navigate the uncertain because shizz happens. Conditions aren't always great and how I reacted to this helped me gauge who I am. Travel measured me, if that makes sense.

Shit happens. I remember saying I expected things to go wrong. But really, I didn't expect them to go as wrong as they did until it happened. The worst experiences (and best) are the unexpected.

I changed. (Granted, everything changes given time. But that is obviously beside the point.) It's like some things in me shifted and lined up slightly differently than they did before. It might be just internal. I might be the only one who notices, but what does that matter? I can feel it.

I do the same poses in all of my pictures. I really need to work on this for my future on the red carpet so I can accept my award and thank the random people who helped me with my damn suitcase.

Don't say goodbyes. I don't like 'em. Just leave. And probably don't look back (Your call).

THE MOST IMPORTANT LIFE ADVICE I WILL EVER GIVE: Pack lightly.

So there you have it, folks. I came. I saw. I sort of conquered. This actually be my last (planned) blog because otherwise I would only be saying, "And then I worked for eight hours. And then I took a nap." Literally, that is my life now, so I doubt it would cause much interest. Surprisingly, I actually liked blogging and would be willing to do more in the future. If something crazy happens to me like I win the lottery or I inherit a lightsaber, then you might hear from me. So possibly some sporadic blogging. But, for now we must part ways.

Like I said, no goodbyes.

All Roads Lead to Rome (Eventually).

Hello everyone!

I am back in the good ole US of A*, but I need to finish recounting my travels. A brief recap: smog ruined my life in Turkey, so I missed my flight. One might suspect after we made it on our (new) flight, that chapter of my life would be complete. And one would be wrong.

*As this was posted. When I was writing it, I was in a lovely (sarcasm hand raised so fast it created a sonic boom) airport in Madrid.

After the Terror in Turkey…Is that too dramatic? Perchance. I’ll start over: Being frustrated and having lots of feelings *shudder*, Katie and I both ranted about missing our flight in our journals (Or rant books, if you will. I prefer that term.) for a long time. A solid hour of silence and writing only partially helped, so we began planning our time until our new flight left at 10PM. With eight hours to kill, it became a discussion of how long we would sit in one place before migrating because there is not a lot to do in airports especially sans Wi-Fi. Finally it was time to board and everything went well on the flight and we made it to Rome. Celebration time!

We grabbed a cab outside the Rome airport and shared with two old Italian ladies. The conversation occurred in three languages because we found out our cabbie, Claudio, could speak Spanish as well as English. I said it in my other Italy post, but there are definitely similarities between Spanish and Italian, so, to a degree, there was a level of understanding between us and the Italian ladies. Claudio was excellent in Spanish and English, so it was easy to understand him.

After our 50 euro ride, we made it to the hostel building and we climbed out. It was well after midnight, so Claudio waited to make sure we got into the building alright.

This section can be called “All Hell Breaks Loose: Part II.”

As you might guess from how our day went, no one answered when we buzzed the room. We kept trying but yeah, no. Wasn’t gonna happen. Fortunately, a man was going in the building so our cabbie talked to him and made it so all three of us could trail in behind him. We tramped up to the room to find out that while our hostel doesn’t have a curfew, that doesn’t mean there will be a receptionist at all hours of the night. So our options were to wait outside for maybe someone, sometime to show up or start knocking on the doors of hostels in the same building. We opted to knock on doors.

Lucky for us (Oh wait…), everything was full. Katie ended up mostly begging (in Spanish) an old Italian man for space in a corner of a hostel. Not even for a bed or anything, we just needed a roof in all honesty. Obviously, it was against all hostel rules or laws of the land or something to let us stay, but Old Italian Gentleman let us stay for a reduced price. We ended up sleeping at a table in the tiny lobby for five hours.

When I say “sleep” that is generous. There were other occupants who came in at all hours of the night and desks are quite comfortable. Yeah… Despite this, all of my faith in humanity is restored. Our cabbie gave us his card and I am nearly positive he would have let us stay in his house or driven us somewhere else had we needed it. Old Italian Man gave us pillows and soap and a shower made me feel like a real person again. The day and night were terrible, but people are good.

After a refreshing night of sleep (Ha.), we headed to a different hostel at 7 AM to check in and actually start the day. Our room wasn’t ready, but we stored our things and ate breakfast and it somewhat revived us. On our two/three hours of sleep, we headed out to the Vatican for mass. We read somewhere that mass started at 9 AM, so we got there a little early to get good places and because we had nothing else to do. (Except sleep…I don’t know how we function.)

Unfortunately, mass didn’t really start until 10:30 AM. There was some singing and mass-y sort of things going on from 9-10:30, but it was pretty clear it wasn’t particularly significant because all of the Italians were chatting with each other and cracking jokes. Because of our recent streak of luck, it was raining during almost the entire service and neither Katie nor I had an umbrella. But Italians are my favorite people because they shared and would jostle us forward to get into position under the canopy of umbrellas. One lady even gave us an extra for a while.

Sidenote: “Umbrelli” said with a super thick Italian accent is possibly the best word ever. I heard it a bazillion times and will never get sick of it.

We were pretty exhausted by the time Communion occurred because we had been standing in the rain for about three hours, listening to another language and being overwhelmed by the crowds. This was made better by two things. One was, obviously, seeing the Pope and having him drive his little Pope-mobile through the crowds. Because I am smallish, a bunch of Italian ladies shoved me up to the front. Southern hospitality has nothing on All Italians. The second occurred while waiting for the Pope. Katie and I had both noticed an extremely attractive guard, and it seemed we weren’t the only ones. It was hilarious to hear all the little, old Italian ladies chattering among themselves with the recurring word “Novio” or boyfriend. If that can’t make your day, I don’t know what can.

After mass, we raced back to the hostel to change clothes and head out once again because there was so much to see. Katie grabbed her umbrella and we got some food from a Mini-Mart and it seemed almost as though we never left the Vatican because we were back so quickly. We ended up in a massive line to see Saint Peter’s Basilica, which was well worth the wait. It was adorned with so many different colors of marble and shnazzy statues and gold and extravagance. Etc. Etc. (We know how I feel about descriptions by now.) So pictures!

Like any good monument, it had a place you could climb up: the dome. The climb wasn’t so bad until everything started being sideways to follow the curve of the roof. I was okay until we came out and were able to look down into the church from the dome. I can remember the feeling of my stomach just dropping and dropping and drop p i n g…After that, I stayed as close to the wall as I could until we climbed back outside. I’m fairly certain Katie was amused because she didn’t realize I had a slight phobia of falling to my doom.

We had been inside long enough for the weather to clear up, so we decided to head to the Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain to complete the day. We climbed all of the steps which was a challenge because my legs didn’t feel like being legs after standing so much early in the morning. In addition, I don’t think I’ve ever been so aware of the number of tourists in one place. We sat on the steps to relax a bit before strolling over to the Trevi. Like all good tourists in Italy, we stopped for gelato first, because gelato. Mint gelato and famous monuments. Nothing better. We took some classic pictures of throwing coins into the fountain (One coin to return to Rome, two to find love in the city and three doesn’t matter because the first two are all you need. I wished for my Vatican guard boyfriend.)

Because we had gotten very little sleep and had been on our feet all day, exhaustion ensued. We decided to go get some dinner by our hostel but this ended up being a lot of wandering in search of the Perfect Place. When we found a place and got our food, Katie did all the talking because she could function and I was brain dead. When we finally left, our legs were stiff so we walked (Really it was limped) like goons back to the hostel. I remember saying, “I think I slept funny last night because my back hurts,” and then remembered I actually slept at a desk which probably counts as sleeping funny. Maybe this is why everything was hurting, hmmm?

We went to bed early because lack of sleep from the night before was killing us. Or tried to. I distinctly remember locking myself in a bathroom which made bedtime a little later. So it goes.

I Too Tired

Dear readers, I am going insane in this airport. I have begun rewriting that one Robert Frost poem about woods and snowiness because of the line “And miles to go before I sleep.” Want to read it? Of course you do!

Whose wi-fi this is I think I know

He's guarded it with a password though.

He must have some idea I'm here,

So I can't steal it and that blows.

My brain has gone a little weird

Because there are no people near.

My mind and body start to ache

As though I've sat here for a year.

I give my little legs a shake

Thinking there is some mistake

My foot has fallen fast asleep

End the tingling for heaven's sake.

This airport makes me want to weep,

But I have a flight to (HOPEFULLY) keep

And miles to go before I sleep

And miles to go before I sleep.

 

That’s 6AM poetry of a madwoman for you. Carry on with the rest of my Roman Holiday.

Because there was so much to do in Rome, we were up again way too early the next day as well. We were met with beautiful drizzle like the morning before because that must be how Rome rolls. Katie and I got up so early for more standing in the lines. Yay! We walked over to the Vatican museum and got into an enormous mass of people to wait almost three hours before entering. Despite my complaints about lines, everything we saw was well worth it. There were tons of religious paintings, naked statues (Classic) and random artifacts throughout the museum. Also, someone needed to tell the painters how to paint babies because baby Jesus was terrifying in all of the paintings of him. I get nightmares.

The crowning jewel came at the end: Rafael’s School of Athens fresco and *trumpets*

Do do do do do doooooooooooooooooo!

The Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo was a genius in both painting and sculpture and this shows it. It was awesome to just stand and stare for a while because you could keep discovering details. And details. And oh, some more details. No pictures were allowed though, so go buy your ticket to Rome! This is a joke…but really. Just do it.

To get out of the rain and fill our grumbling bellies, we hopped over to the nearby pizza place. Sitting is the nicest thing I will ever experience in my life. Maybe a little travel here and there too. But mostly sitting.

We continued our search of Super Famous Stuff by walking (busing? I can’t remember…UGH) over to the Coliseum. I was very excited to see this because Gladiator is the greatest movie ever. Okay, really good. Maybe not quite the greatest. As per usual, rain occurred while we were there but we had already taken some good pictures and seen most of it by the time that happened. It was spectacular to see because of how amazingly, mind-bogglingly old it is. And history! And time! Whoa, guys was I excited for a second.

With our ticket to the Coliseum, the Roman Forum was also included. These were some spectacular ruins across from the Coliseum that don’t get enough attention for how cool they are. It was more of the history/time nerdiness coming out for this entire place because my imagination goes crazy in these types of places. Why don’t ya got any ruins, Minnesota?

We wandered around these quintessential Roman ruins until an announcement came that the park was closing. The first exit we got to was already locked, so my legs were loving me by the time we made it back to the original entrance.

I am fairly certain we went to the train station one of these days to purchase tickets for the rest of our journey. I can’t remember which day, but it took up some of our afternoon. We can say it was this day. Yup.

After, we went out to eat and I remember none of this. All I have written about it in my notebook is “Okay pasta.” So I had some okay pasta. And I guarantee you we went to bed after that, once again walking with our too-stiff legs from our walking-around-so-much-how-can-legs-feel-like-this day.

 
The next day, we woke up late. Nope, early again. We had a train to catch but decided to stop by the Pantheon first. On our way, we stumbled upon a really cool piazza with a fountain by someone famous depicting river gods and four continents. It was fun to guess which were which but we had Not Enough Time, so we kept walking to the Pantheon. This was fascinating because it was once dedicated to ancient Roman gods and now is Christian and the fact that something in such good condition has been around so long is crazy. Crazy I tell you! (Like me at this point. Airports, am I right?)

We grabbed our stuff from the hostel and made it to the train station well before our departure, thank everything holy. There was a nearby church with a fancy sculpture Katie wanted to see, so we dragged our stuff through the drizzle and went into the church one at a time, with one person guarding the keerap outside. Apparently the sculpture was in a different church, so some nice Italian gent escorted Katie there and back before we raced off to the station again.

A train ride brought us to a new city and it was time to find our hostel, which is always a fun game. Our directions took us through a rather large outdoor market, and I can’t think of a better place to drag my gigantic suitcase. That might not be accurate. To add to it when we got to our hostel, there was no elevator. So. Many. Stairs. God bless the Italians for carrying my suitcase up three flights of stairs.

After getting settled, we went back out to go to the largest church in the city, the Duomo. It was built a long time ago (Surprising) but the entire fancy façade was added much later. Pictures will help you understand. This inside was surprisingly bare except for the dome and a counterclockwise clock. I want one. As a good Cathedral, there was a tower we climbed for a great view of the city.

We (I) had had enough excitement with heights, so we went to the market and both bought items. I splurged and purchased an Italian leather purse because I needed a new bag and there will never be a better time. We got all our shopping done surprisingly quickly and knew of a place across the river to watch sunset. We had the first major navigation error where we walked parallel to the river for a good half hour before we realized we were getting nowhere. Oops. Luckily, there was still enough time to get to the top and enjoy (with all the other tourists) the sunset. Magnificent, as always.

We wandered on that side of the river to find a restaurant that had been recommended to us, but alas, were unsuccessful. Luckily, the ravioli I ended up getting at the Random Restaurant was still quite good. Walking back proved almost as difficult as finding the sunset spot and we got lost again. Le sigh. It was bedtime after we made it back because tired. (That is a terribly formed sentence. Forgive me. 2AM in an airport is not my best time.)

We awoke early in the mornin’ to see the best sight in all of Florence. We ate a quick breakfast of pastries and then journeyed to the Academia, another museum. We started off learning about old-time musical instruments because they have great names (Hurdy-gurdy. That’s a thing.) and we could sit and enjoy the music. Everything else after was religion-y and sculpture-y, good but not excellent until we saw it. The David was easily the best piece of art in Florence. There were unfinished Michelangelo sculptures leading up to it, so you can really appreciate what a genius he was. I wasn’t allowed photos of the real thing, so I have some with a fake David we found in a piazza. He is less cool. Sorry, fake David.

We stared at him (What can I say? He’s an attractive statue) for a long while and then left to do something we couldn’t in Rome: ENJOY FREE TIME. I missed you so! So I am too excited for the Do Nothing part of traveling, and Rome was great but absolutely exhausting. Sitting in our room napping and talking with our Canadian roommates was a great change of pace. Katie and I lazed for a few hours and later meandered around (window shopping for our engagement rings) until it was time to eat again.

We went out to a great place that was in Katie’s guidebook and had one of my favorite meals and it stood out even with all the pasta I’ve eaten in the last week and a half. On a whim, we bought a bottle of champagne from a store after dinner and took it down by the river to chat and relax. The night was excellent and we decided to head back and call it a night.

The night changed for the more exciting when we got back. We had met a guy, Lee, from our hostel and Alice (or Alex? Katie and I still aren’t sure which), who both wanted to go out for the night. We headed to a couple of bars which meant I had a grand total of one bright-pink passion fruit margarita. Poor Lee, drinking a pink margarita and getting told he could be “one of the girls.” We bar hopped until we found a place with some classic American music (Don’t Stop Believin,’ much?) and stayed until it closed and then got gyros. All in all, we were out until 4AM. We put the kibosh on waking up early the next day to go to the food market.

Well, dear readers, we are almost done with my time abroad. Next post will be about Cinque Terre and Venice and then…That is everything. Wow.

Stay tuned!

Gobble Gobble Gobble: Istanbul, Turkey!

Hey errbody!

So we have moved on to the excitement that is (was) Turkey. This all happened about a week ago, so bear with me if the memories are already a little fuzzy. There has been a lot going on recently, but I'll try to keep it all straight. Let us hope.

Katie and I had an earlier flight than the rest of the group so, as she put it, we were up "at the ass-crack of dawn." That is almost poetic. And quite accurate. So after our four-hours-of-sleep night, we braved the metro to get to the airport to sit to take a plane to eat plane food and to finally land in Turkey. Excellent. Unfortunately, we needed to take the tram to our hostel and walk a decent ways. The tram wasn't as close to the airport as we thought, so we searched for a bit until we found it.

A brief reminder: I am currently lugging around a suitcase that is quite possibly larger than me. This has been the bane of my existence.

Our journey included going down some stairs, going up some stairs, walking and then going up a bridge thing with more stairs and then down until we reached the tram. Lots and lots of the Up and Down which is quite miserable with all of my stuff. Fortunately, I look pathetic, so people have really stepped it up and helped me carry it on occasion. Thank you, good people of the earth!

We hopped off the tram and started walking toward the two massive mosques in the city: the Hagia Sofia and the Blue Mosque (Creative, right?). We weren't entirely sure which was which and our directions were based off that, so it took a little while to find the way to go, but the sights were beautiful in the meantime. Obviously the streets were cobblestone-esque which was difficult on me and my poor luggage. I fear it will be a little beat up by the end of the trip.

We made it to our hostel safe and sound, but because it was just Katie and I, it seemed like every man was asking us if we knew where to go or if we needed help in a vaguely creepy sort of way.

Life Tip: Don't make eye-contact and just keep swimming walking.

I hadn't been aware of it before-hand, but we ended up in a 21 person room in the basement. It was lovingly referred to as The Dungeon for the rest of the trip, even though it was relatively nice and there was no sign of chains or bars or other dungeon-y items. We got settled in and made a game plan for enjoying the rest of the afternoon.

We planned on going to the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia because they were so close to our hostel and pretty obvious attractions. Because the Blue Mosque is a functioning mosque, we checked the hours it was open and realized we had time to kill. This meant a brief photo shoot before looking for sustenance, which came in the form of a Nutella bagel (Spaniards don't believe in bagels, so it was the first one I had abroad). Delicious. We sat down to eat between the mosque and the Sofia when a a small boy approached us.

This boy was probably only four or five and rather grubby. He had some bread in his hand, but hid it behind his back and sat on the bench across from us and stared Katie and I down. He then proceeded to point to my bagel because Nutella is delicious. He continued to do this so I took matters into my own hands and pointed at the not-so-hidden bread he had...and he took off. Ha! Take that young child! I win again.

After such exciting excitement, we were able to go into the Mosque. Because of Muslim culture, Katie and I both had to wear scarves over our heads and take off our shoes to enter. That falls under a bit of culture shock. But the inside was rather spectacular so we enjoyed the view and sat down by a pillar to take it in. Tourists could only go in part of it, so we weren't there for very long before we headed outside again.

The Hagia Sofia wasn't open for too much longer in the day, so we decided to forgo it until the next day and instead meandered, finding a luscious park instead. My preconceptions of Istanbul were way off base because I assumed it was deserty and sandy due to it's location. Nope. There was a ton of green in the park and it was quite surprisingly beautiful.

More Randomness: While Katie and I were walking, a group of kids (a school group?) were passing through the park and I made a passing remark about how cute the little childrens were. The man leading them immediately turned around asked where I was from and, after hearing my response, pulled my in front of his class. I was introduced as the "American teacher" and was told to raise my hands while the kids sang or chanted or what have you. Katie was directed to film the process and after he told me he was a famous taxi driver (He's been on Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations. I checked.) and thanked me for my time (and asked all the kids to do the same). We were also introduced to his daughter who apparently wanted to learn English before he wandered back to the group. I don't know how these situations happen to me. 

After the confusion, we left the park and spent a good deal of time trying to find a bridge across from Europe to Asia because Istanbul is the only city in the world in two continents. We walked alongside the water for a while before giving it up and going back to the hostel. A brief hostel visit made way for dinner time.

Yay for food! We went to a close restaurant and ate outdoors on a relatively quiet street. The food was delicious but my favorite part was a sampler Katie and I split that had a ton of different sauces and vegetables to eat with bread. A yogurty one, couscous, a smoky one, and a few others were all absolutely great. Katie ordered a Turkish coffee and the waitress brought me one as well, for free.

Because we only had four hours of sleep the night before, we were exhausted and wanted a good night's sleep. Unfortunately (fortunately?) this didn't happen because we got to talking to the guys in the bed across from us and realized the world is crazy. The were studying in Sevilla, Spain and one was from Eagan, Minnesota and we all knew mutual people (from either our program or school). So that was actually quite exciting. But we did manage to go to sleep still relatively early after our bonding moments.

When we woke up for day two, the rest of our group had already made it to our hostel. We climbed up to the top of the building, for a free breakfast consisting of olives, cucumbers, tomatoes, a hard-boiled egg, cheese, bread and instant coffee. Strange, but not unpleasant.

We headed out to the Hagia Sofia, a former church-then-mosque that was converted into a museum. I can't describe it so I won't try particularly hard. It was built in the 6th century and is absolutely massive and beautiful, an array of art and colorful tiles and stones. There you go, description. Pictures to come!

From the Sofia, we went to the Grand Bazaar. This was overwhelmingly huge and, because of this, everything started to look exactly the same. We headed into the bazaar, a massive conglomeration of shops and stands housed under one roof. All six of us started shopping but it soon became clear our group was too large for the places we were going into. Because of this, we decided to split into two groups and meet up at an ATM outside later in the afternoon. Now, one might assume that it would be possible to barter in Turkey and, to an extent, it is. But then you come across times when a shop owner wants 600 lira (about 300 euros) for a cashmere and/or silk scarf and won’t budge on the price. It was actually hard to get most of the places to come down on their prices at all.

Even with the non-bartering, it was extremely fun because all of the people are saying whatever it takes to get you to look at their things. And they can be more or less successful in their approach. The best ‘compliment’ was one Kat, a girl in my group, got:

“You look like…. My favorite girl.”

That is sure to attract all the ladies. Keep up the good work.

We all ended up making small purchases, although we ended up being late to the ATM because we A) Got lost and B) Were busy making friends for lower prices. Mostly we emphasized the fact we got lost, to not annoy the other half of the group. And in most respects it was true. There are a million places inside the bazaar and eventually they all start to look the same. The colors and people and goods just become overwhelming, so being lost was certainly true.

Because we were famished from our extensive search (no exaggerations from me), we started looking for a restaurant. The one we eventually chose was relatively inexpensive and ended up being pretty good even though there ended up being a lot of peas in my dish, which is against my principles. Anyway, real talk now.

Our waiter became slightly smitten with Kat and by slightly I mean he went next door and bought a bracelet for her, gave everyone at the table free tea, and still gave her a discount when she let him down easy. To say it was awkward after that would be an understatement, so we hightailed it out of there as soon as our bill was paid.

After the brief relaxation of lunch, we went to the Topkapi Palace which we had been told by the Sevilla guys was “the Alhambra on steroids.” Our expectations became a little too high after that. That isn’t to say it wasn’t beautiful, but we were rather tuckered out so we weren’t in the best place mentally to enjoy it as much as we could have. That said, it had some incredibly beautiful rooms and gardens. We strolled through and even found a few good views across the water to Asia. Pictures will follow this because I am currently boycotting too many descriptions. There. Take that, world!

Focus. Okay, after our exploration we split into two groups again. A few of us stayed to see the Harem in the Palace and the rest headed back to the hostel. They missed out because the harem was probably my favorite part and I now want to be a concubine. Wait. Nope. No, I actually don’t. (Can you tell I’m tired? Travel, am I right?)

After we became even more tuckered out, it was time to return to the Dungeon. I had been planning on finishing a blog post then (We can all see that didn’t happen), but Mark and Luke invited us to have a beer with them on the roof of our hostel. There is a restaurant up there where we had a great view and were able to enjoy some time hanging out with new people. A drink led to us roaming through the streets for a restaurant and eating dinner together too; I am officially a fan of the cuisine in Turkey. We hung out together for the rest of the night until we realized it was time for bed because Katie and I had a flight to catch the next day.
 
WARNING: There will be bad words in this section because normal words can't cover all the keerap that occurred for this portion of the journey. There won't be that many, but just a heads up (It has been edited to remove the real bad ones). If you are under 13 or like thinking of me as a completely non-swearing individual, avert your eyes. (It won't be that bad, Mom, I promise. I just need to properly convey everything). Ready? Okay.

I wrote all of this down in a notebook so I could preserve the everything that this day entailed. That's the level of crazy it got. Again, you have been warned.

An Excerpt from Emily's Rant Book*

Today went form good to shitty real fast and we have arrived at the Live & Learn part of the day. I woke up at 7:48 AM intending to take a shower but laze ensued so I slept until 8:09 AM to chuck all my stuff in a bag and get "ready." In actuality, I am on Day Three of no showering, so that's the point my life has reached. (I am pissed off right now, so everything seems slightly miserable.) I ate, for the second time, a bizarre breakfast of olives, cucumber, tomato, bread, jam and cheese. Also surprisingly good instant coffee. Katie and I ate with the guys studying in Sevilla and they were a good time, making even the chilly Istanbul morning bright. After, I went down the the dungeon basement to grab a curduroy jacket. Rookie mistake, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Every good story has a beginning, middle and end but I keep skipping to the end in my mind. And that is a hellhole, so back to the briefly happy beginning.

Katie and I knew the archeological museum was somewhere between the Topkapi Palace and Hagia Sofia, so we meandered until we stumbled upon the Most Beautiful Street which led to both the park and our museum. We hadn't really known much about the place, but I enjoyed the peacefulness because there weren't really many tourists, especially so early in the morning.

The artifacts, once again got me thinking about time. This is probably the most fascinating idea ever to me because (tangent) time means oblivion. Which is both terrifying and comforting. Like I am having a helluva shitty day today, but it won't matter in eight bajillion years. But neither will I so...yeah. Not that I'm saying "Life is Short" and all forms of Encouragements, but it makes you think about what is considered significant (to humanity or on a smaller scale)...

Anyway. We saw things like the Tomb of Alexander the Great and jars coming form the 12th Century BC (Time, right?!?) among other things. All in all, a pleasant morning that did little to foreshadow the terribility of the afternoon.

We have come to the middle of the story: The hero must make decisions that will define her and bring conflict. And hopefully resolution.

Our defining moment came in our decision to traverse across the continent into Asia. Even though we had very little notion of what was on the other side, it seemed cool to be able to say, "Oh, yeah. I went to Asia this morning. No big deal." Casual.

Our flight had been delayed a little, so we thought we had a little leeway and we were idiots. The ferry ride was nice enough, although it got rather hazy and wasn't super beautiful This theme continues.

My feet in Asia!

We had no plans for the time we spent in another continent and ended up staying really close to the port. We noticed the clouds thickening like smoke, and assumed it had come from the boats coming in (Stupid, stupid). Our time elapsed quickly and after a few short goodbyes we returned to the ship docking area to depart.

All hell broke loose.

We bought tokens for our return journey before learning it had been delayed due to the smog and lack of visibility. The workers didn't speak English well so we went across the street to get directions on how to get back to Europe, because our flight.

We were told to take the 110 bus and get off at B7jsjuqw5hxhuq-something, walk ten minutes and take the tram to Almost-our-hostel. This journey was supposed to take one hour total, cutting close to our deadline but also not impossible. The first sign of Shit Hitting the Fan occurred when we glimpsed the line for our bus, which was a billion times longer than for any other bus. We shoved through and bought our overpriced ticket and waited on the godforsaken bus. It was packed tighter than the Campus Connector in wintertime and was boiling hot. My jacket didn't help with the sweat situation but I didn't have room to take it off.

The traffic ended up being insane because obviously it would be insane but eventually we made reached our stop. Unfortunately, it appeared no one knew where the hell the tram was, so we mimed and pointed and hoped until we got some directions from non-English speaking policemen.

This began the Running of the Emily, where we ran through the streets, looking for our faithful tram. We eventually found it (not a ten minute walk) and got in line behind two people who couldn't, for the life of them, figure out how to use the machine to buy tickets. The tram pulled up just as we bought ours, so we sprinted to catch it.

Now things weren't going well, but we were getting there, right?

We stood on the also overcrowded tram in the overly-warmness of all the people in Turkey before we finally got off. And more with the sprinting. And losing of the flip-flops. I became the person who runs barefoot through the streets of Turkey, because Life.

New ticket to Rome. Don't ever look like this.

Katie raced ahead to talk to a taxi-driver and I ran to grab my too-much-shit so we could get out quick. I had the strength of a mother pulling her baby out of a burning building when carrying my damn suitcase up the spiral stairs. A short wait for the taxi and a tense drive found us at the airport, caught between hopeful and anxious. We ended up paying our driver in both lira and US dollars because we couldn't come up with the money otherwise.

A massive line awaited us inside the doors because security here is pretty intense. After getting through the line fairly quickly we sprinted through the airport to come up....

Not victorious.

I have officially missed a flight and dropped 240 euros to get to Rome. Asia is against all of my principles now. So I am bitterly writing this to get out all the anger because that leads to the Dark Side. Also, I refuse to Romanticize the situation because I won't be extra grateful to be in Rome because it was hard to get there.

*Rant Book: Similar to a journal, where one rants due to feelings, generally of anger or frustration

Wow. Emotions, right? This story isn't over, we just need to relocate the setting to Rome. You can look forward to the second half of Emily's Journey to Rome in the next blog.

Until then!