You have to understand, there’s no way in the world that I could type everything important that happened over the last two weeks. Life moves too fast for blogs. That’s probably why I quit in the first (and second and third and maybe fourth) place.

That being said, it’s summary time.

The story starts in Venice, which was a bit surprising to me. We trained our behinds over there and were greeted by cloudy skies and rain.

Oh, and a boat to take us to the island with our hotel. We stayed in Lido (Not the main island, but near itish.), about a five-ten minute boat ride to the main island.

It is at this point that I’d like to address my surprise. Venice is not all canals and boats as I think we’re all led to believe. There are many narrow streets crawling through the city. I was under the impression that doors opened to porches that touched water, but that’s not the case so much. The Grand Canal is the biggest exception, with tons of docks and gondolas and the occasional ambu-boat rushing past.

Venice is a tourist trap. Each narrow street between Sight A and Sight B is jampacked with little shops of glass and masks. Every once in a while you’ll stumble upon something good, but then you discover it’s horrifically overpriced. To be fair, the prices were way better than, say, London. But that’s getting ahead of myself.

We spent our few days in Venice snaking from St. Mark’s to the Rialto to the cheap sections of town. We touristed the heck out of that place.

But of course, these things must end. We packed up (after everyone else had already left…we’re special) and planed it to Paris. Or rather, to Beauvais. Beauvais is more commonly known as “not Paris”. They were nice enough to bus us to Paris (for a friendly price, of course…), and we arrived in time to catch the Metro to a street near our hostel.

Then comes the interesting part. We get off the Metro and are greeted by a loitering group of delinquents who pass the time outside the Metro trowing bottles at walls and generally being obnoxious. We weren’t inconvenienced in any way, but since we were all travel-frazzled and wary, our dangerometers were freaking out a bit.

We walked to our hostel to find the door closed, locked, and the light off. Awkward. Someone happened to be there, let us in, and explained that our check in time had been confused with AM. In other words, we were roomless in Paris. He was nice enough to cancel our payment on the rooms, and call a nearbyish hostel to check for availability.

Jackpot.

We walk the considerable distance to our new accommodations, and take in the stale and foreboding night air. Everyone’s a bit uneasy and now more stressed than before.

Luckily, the hostel we ended up at was much better than the hostel we had booked. The staff was quite nice, the rooms were pretty decent, and the neighborhood was better. We slept pseudosoundly. We liked it enough to go ahead and book the next two nights there as well. It was like our safe place amidst confusion.

The trick to going to France is this: they speak French. With Italian, I could piece things together (thanks Spanish). In France, I was 100% lost. It was an interesting exchange booking the rooms; somehow the cute little old man and I reached an agreement despite neither of us speaking so much as a word of the other’s native language.

With that resolved, it was off to see all that we could see. During our time there, we experienced the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame, Sainte Chapelle…and maybe some more stuff I can’t think of at the moment. It was a lot, and totally worth it. You have no sense of scale about these monuments until you’re there, trust me.

We’ll call that the end of France. Next up, Glasgow. (That’s Scotland for you who don’t know.) Glasgow was the strangest place we visited. We had become so used to seeing languages that we didn’t know. English was a welcome present. We spent just enough time in Glasgow (aka Little USA) to have dinner and marvel at the stores (Pizza Hut, Domino’s, Borders, Starbucks, Foot Locker, etc.) then it was off to Edinburgh. Edinburgh was a little less America than Glasgow, but still comfortable enough to relax in.

Edinburgh had a castle, and that’s about it. We happened upon a hilltop (Arthur’s Seat or something like that), hiked it, and were graced with a fantastic view and a wonderful sunset.

After that breath of fresh air, it was off to Dublin, Ireland. Dublin seemed a bit rougher around the edges than Scotland. (I forgot to mention, the biggest problem with these places is climate. Cold, cold, and more cold. Pretty much standard operating procedure.) We saw another castle and a few cathedrals. But the best story relates to how we got thrown out of a pub. (In Ireland. Heck yes.)

We went in, some of us in search of a Guiness, others just tagging along. I had tried Bailey’s the night before, and found it quite enjoyable. So I was up for another. We found a table and ventured off to order drinks. The bartender was nice enough to suggest what he called a “Cookies and Creme”, which is some mix including Bailey’s that tastes FANTASTIC. I had one of those, loving it all the way. John decided to try one after I had finished mine. He ended up not finishing it, so I had one and a half. (They really are quite fantastic. None of that alcohol taste.) We sat around talking, doodling on napkins, and being playfully harassed by the live music guy (the girls were, anyway). It was at this point, some time after finishing our last drink, that the manager informed us of this little gem: “If you’re not going to order any more drinks, you have to go.” How very strange. We did as we were told, and went back to the hostel a bit earlier than planned, perhaps.

So there you have it. Thrown out of pub in Dublin. Ha.

After we wrapped up Dublin, it was time for London. London was…actually quite annoying. English, sure, but annoying nonetheless. Rather expensive (stupid pounds) and awkwardly laid out. However, a number of our best experiences occurred there. We were lucky enough to snag tickets to Les Miserables (we were shooting for Phantom of the Opera, but stuff happens), which was an amazing musical. The day preceding that evening, however, was a string of arriving too late and sleet. Woo hoo. We didn’t get to go in a few places, and the ones we could we dang expensive. The next day, we hit up the British Museum, holder of all manner of ridiculously interesting art. (I forgot to mention earlier that yes, I did see the Mona Lisa. She’s really not that tight, y’all.) We were treated to Egyptian relics out the wahzoo, including the Rosetta Stone.

Then, we cheesed it over to Wesminster Abbey to see the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, and of course Westminster Abbey. We timed it such that we actually attended Easter Service inside Westminster Abbey. Now that’s a trip. It’s so…huge.

There was a big hubbub that day, as our group of five split into 2 and 3. We established several meeting points throughout the day, but managed to just miss each other every time. We regrouped just before things would have gotten interesting (in a bad, someone’s getting left behind without their luggage way) and caught the Metro to the train station to catch the bus to the airport at 1AM for our 7AM flight. No sleep is always a good thing.

Flight was uneventful, landed us near Rome. Metroed it to the train station and trained it back to good ol’ Castiglion F.no.

Whew. That was a lot of summarizing. There’s a ton of intricacies that you, faithful reader, may or may not hear some day.

Here’s to newness.

Charles