Time is meaninglessly meaningful…

My apologies for the long entry. One may consider this a novel, actually…

Well, my trip to Milan and Nice, along with the inadvertent visits to Genova, Savona, Antibes, and Cannes, has come to a close. Aside from a few oopsies primarily involving travel planning, it was absolutely wonderful!

First and foremost, a note about my own sanity: I’ve been in Europe for well over two months now, meaning you would think I am used to 24-hour time telling now. Well, I’m not. I bought the tickets to go to and from the Frankfurt Hahn Airport via the shuttle bus AND tickets to and from Milan via RyanAir planes. The problem is, for both the bus ticket to Hahn and the flight to Milan, I failed to notice my ticket said 5:00 to the airport, and 6:45 to Milan… which is problematic, being that I thought they meant “pm” whereas they actually meant “am.” Oops.

So, I literally bought two invalid tickets. Oops. Or, as Kurt Vonnegut says (whose novel Breakfast of Champions I just finished reading), “so it goes.” But, in all actuality it was not a total fail: the bus, whose ticket I had to re-buy upon its arrival at the tune of double the price of the original ticket I bought by mistake [12 Euro for the first, 24 for the one I had to buy on-the-spot],  was almost 45 minutes late. Although my original ticket was for 5 am rather than 5pm, there WAS supposed to be a bus at 5pm too. Because it was so late due to the first rain I’ve seen in a while, I missed the flight I thought I was catching anyway.

So. Yeah. Because the Hahn airport is so small, I couldn’t sleep in it as I planned to as soon as I realized my mammoth mistake. Luckily for me, there was a hotel right across the street, so I bit the bullet and stayed the night there after fighting to buy a last-minute flight to Milan the next morning. Naturally, this ticket cost 4 times as much as the original one I bought, and when all was said and done, I spent $180 on a one-way one-hour flight.

So it goes.

In any event, I found the next morning that I had barely enough time to catch my flight; RyanAir requires a pre-security passport/visa check at the baggage checking counter for all non-EU citizens, and this often takes forever. Although I was in the airport (directly across the street from where I stayed… and keep in mind this airport is literally in the middle of nowhere, a 45 minute drive from Frankfurt itself) an hour early, I barely made the flight. But I did, and Milan I came!

I arrived in Milan around 8am, and without any difficulty got the rental car and was on my way! I got a four-door Fiat, my first ever Italian car! It was perfectly acceptable: good AC (for it was hot in France), acceptable stereo, stick (as every car is here). It did take me a few minutes to figure out how to get it in reverse, but hey… details.

For the first time in my life and in a totally foreign land, I based my traveling solely based on seeing road signs. And, I must say: for the most part, they are impeccable! Sometimes I’d find myself a bit lost, but if you generally trust that you’ll see another sign saying where you want to go, you’re almost always in the clear. It was a bit difficult keeping an eye on the signs and seeing the road, traffic, and beautiful scenery by myself without a navigator, but I somehow managed.

Before I ramble on and on of the wonderfulness of France and Italy, let me just say this: if you ever want to commit suicide, try driving in Milan. Road signs are adequate (albeit within the city, they seemed circular as hell), but the PEOPLE are absolutely psychotic. Remember how I said it was odd that Brussels had no lines on the road? Well, likewise in Milan… except that the drivers made absolutely no attempt whatsoever to keep in any kind of pattern.

Traffic was similar to what I saw in New York City, and, in fact, Milan extremely reminded me of NYC. Similar architecture, similar big-ness… but absolutely a nightmare to drive in. It did not help that it was raining-to-pouring the whole time I was there, but the total lack of respect of any traffic laws made it one of the most nerve racking experiences of my life. And this is someone who typically has no nerves to rack.

It was incredulous: the tram tracks ran straight through the streets with no separation, and cars/scooters (which obeyed laws even less, cutting head of cars any time they could squeeze between them) could ride right over the tram tracks. When a tram started coming, you’d better get out of their way! This didn’t seem to bother the Italians…

Another thing that blew my mind: parking was impossible to find, so the Italians would double-row parallel park. This means out of a potential 3 lanes, two of them would have cars parked in them. How the first row could get out to leave, I have no idea. Wait, yes I do: they hopped the curb and rode along the sidewalk until they could reach the next block. Oh yes. And people, should they not find a place to park, would just park right in the middle of the street for everyone to go around. And there were a LOT of us.

Anyway, due to the rain, I didn’t get to explore the city on foot much, only getting out and exploring the magnificent and gargantuous train station in the center of the city, which was effectively its own city. I did, however, get to see much of the city in the hour or so I spent lost trying to go south to the Mediterranean after I decided Milan was not my cup of tea. Thinking positive here, right?

Unfortunately, Milan is the only city I have visited in Europe thus far that I have not felt safe. Even thinking outside the realm of the insane driving, the city is quite dirty and just gave me the feeling I should watch my back when I walked about for the hour-ish that I did. That is unfortunate, but keep in mind here that this mentality is from someone not so inclined to gravitate towards large, large cities anyway.

So, moving on. After finding my way to the A7 (their toll interstate going south to Genova, the city closest to Milan on the coast of the Mediterranean), I traveled about in peace for a few hours. The landscape in Italy is amazing: after riding for over an hour in the most flat country I’ve seen apart from part of Belgium in Europe, all the sudden I hit mountains. These weren’t Rocky Mountains by any means, but certainly more unpredictable than the Appalachians on the East Coast.

Keep in mind it still rains from time to time here. That plus among the winding roads made it a bit dangerous, but the interstate was very well maintained with ample warning signs making the trip easy. The hardest part, actually, was keeping watch on the road; the scenery was spectacular!

By the time I reached Genova, which I chose solely due to the fact that I wanted to go to the Mediterranean for the first time, the weather had cleared somewhat, and was totally clear by the time I left. My first sighting of the Mediterranean was magnificent! It is absolutely spectacular! I never thought the water would be as blue as it is in the Carribbean, but it is!

After stopping in a huge mall on accident, I found the city center and parked right by the harbor. What a good call and change in pace from Milan! It is a far smaller city, situated on the mountains touching the sea. It reminded me a bit of California in its mountains-meet-ocean feel, but far older obviously. Apparently, Christopher Columbus sailed from Genova at one point!

During various wars, it was bombed to bits according to the information signs denoting the city’s history. You could never guess, though; it was quite beautifully restored. 

Randomly, as I was walking up towards a huge mountain just a bit away from the harbor (I wanted a good view), a bird fell out of the sky inches from my next step. That was a bit odd. Random dead bird falling out of the sky…

The walk up the hill liked to have killed me, but it was so worth it for the view; you could see most of Genova overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Words can’t describe the view, so I’ll just have to leave it at this: breath-taking.

I enjoyed an Italian beer and true Italian pizza (thin crust, just like the way my Grandmother cooks it) overlooking the harbor as the sun set afterwards, just as though I were in some kind of larger-than-life movie, before heading off toward Nice. 

As an aside, I must say: I am extremely thankful to have been born in an English-speaking country. While not everyone speaks English, most speak enough to at least help you get by. My Italian is lacking, albeit it is similar to Spanish so I can figure out a bit… but still, having menus at restaurants almost always available in English is awesome! The Italians, I’ve noticed, speak far less English than Germany though. But then again, I think EVERY country speaks less English than Germans do.

Another aside: I amused myself as I caught myself trying to speak German in Italy and France. It’s not like I can speak German in any proficiency, but I’m used to trying to speak it now it seems. The Italians were not so amused.

The Italians also love oldies. Restaurants and the radio was full of it, including Italian partial-remakes of American oldies. Seriously, some songs would have the verses in Italian with the chorus of an American song in the original English. Funny!

Speaking of restaurants, while I’m in my aside mode, if you come to Europe keep this in mind: when you dine at a restaurant, it is meant to be an experience, not service-oriented get your food and go as we have in America. When you get a table, the server will take your order and that is about it. When you need something, you must politely signal to them that you are in need.

Another thing about restaurants: drinks are not endless refills. So, if you order a Coke, you get a Coke. Then you can order another. Likewise with water in most places: you get a glass bottle of water. Make sure you order still water, too, else many places will automatically upcharge you to sparkling water, which… sucks.

After leaving Genova, I got lost (surprise). I assumed I would see a sign for Nice at some point, but I was wrong. Luckily I knew what direction it was in, and followed the signs to Savona literally right along the Mediterranean  until I got there. However, being that it was dark and the road was winding along constantly in deadly bottlenecks, it was slow going. I did try to reach the interstate again (called Autostrasse or something, although that would be German for street…), but after Savona, the signs pointing to which directions the interstate went had names on them  (not cardinal directions) that I didn’t recognize, so I guessed and eventually stopped at a rest area on the interstate and slept in the car.

Rest stops in Italy and France seem to be state-controlled. Although they have different gas stations and whatnot, the only access to them is similar to the way the Florida Turnpike operates: you can only access via the toll-paying interstate. Luckily, they let you park overnight, so that’s what I did. 

Just for kicks and giggles, I wanted to see if I could sleep in the Fiat’s trunk. I could! After a few hours, though, I got out again; it was far too hot. Still, though, I can officially say I’ve slept in a car trunk. Why I would want to, I don’t know. But I did!

When I woke up, I realized some random Italian thought it was funny to key the side of my shiny new rental car. How sweet of them.

Speaking of tolls: beware! Taking the interstate in Italy especially is EXPENSIVE. I bet over the course of the trip I paid 60 Euros in tolls! That is almost $100! For tolls! Of course, I must say… the roads were impeccable, even though the terrain was treacherous. Still, $100? That’s ridiculous. Especially considering every half a tank I filled the Fiat up with cost upward of 50 Euros. Luckily, I could go about 400 kilometers on half a tank, but still… the trip got more expensive than I anticipated quickly, especially after my airline issues.

The next morning, I reached France… and Nice! Oh, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. Nice is everything people have said it is! I got to the beach, and I must say: I was reluctant to explore any more after finding the ocean even more beautiful than in Genova, as if it were going anywhere. 

But, being that I was to explore Nice with my aunt the next day, I moved on. By midday, I had taken a wrong turn (again) and ended up in the city of Antibes. I cannot express how happy I am that I am terrible about getting lost; it allows me to end up in cities like Antibes!

Having never heard of it, yet it being about a 30 minute drive from Nice, I decided I may as well get out and take a look. The harbor I parked by was gorgeous, as one would be on the Mediterranean, and the backdrop on the next poking-out landmass was a large fort-looking building. I didn’t get to explore it, but as I was walking towards the “ramparts” to get a view of the ocean, I discovered the city center.

Wow!

I must say, even now that the trip is over, Antibes was probably my favorite of the cities I visited on this trip. It didn’t necessarily have different magnificent views than Nice, Genova, Cannes, or Monaco, but the way in which the historic city center was situated on a cliff directly above the beautiful sea, along with the small-ness of the city compared to the larger others I just mentioned, made it simply lovely to me. I excitedly explored the quaint beach, taking in the light breeze as though it were some form of drug, and made my way up the hill to the old cathedral. 

Many European cities have a design like this, whereby the church is abreast a hill to dominate over the city. In this case, though, part of the church (as best as I could discern) had been converted into a series of museums, with Pablo Picasso’s central to them all. I did not go into them, but the view from the outside was wonderful!

The city itself, as to be expected, was a bit touristy, but not nearly to the degree that any of the other cities I visited were. I did find a new “old man” hat to temporarily replace the one I lost in England several weeks ago, and am quite happy with it. The Asian lady inside said I looked just like her son in it, too… so I figure that’s a good sign.

Although I hated to leave Antibes, I am not one of those people to go into every shop and building I see; to me, a shop is a shop regardless of the city it’s in. The views and the feeling of the cities I visit are what matter to me, and Antibes got the gold star award from me. So, after spending a few hours, I decided to move on to Cannes, which was only another 30 minutes down the road or so.

This time, I didn’t get lost, so I was in Cannes by 4pm or so. What can I say… Cannes is beautiful too! I got the feeling it was of similar size and statute of Nice (which, keep in mind, I had not yet really explored), but its beaches were sand rather than rock. I’m pretty sure they brought in sand from Egypt for this feature, but hey… it’s still a sand beach!

Two cruise ships were docked outside the city, giving a lovely emphasis against the sea beyond to gaze upon. To enjoy this, I decided eventually to rest at a little eatery overlooking this view and have a French beer. Noticing a theme here? I want to have tried a beer from every country I’ve visited. The Germans still reign true, needless to say.

Here, though, is time for one of those momentous occasions: I took my first walk on a Mediterranean beach in the sea itself! Cold, yes, but not terribly so. It’s so clear! And blue! I just can’t get over it; I was expecting pretty, but not Caribbean-pretty!

I only stayed in Cannes a few hours, and after dining I drove up to the top of a mountain just behind the city (again, on accident) and got to see spectacular views of the city and ocean from the top. I love getting lost, and luckily for me, I’m damn good at doing so.

Just to make sure I’d be on time to pick up my aunt at Nice Cote d’Azur Airport(the Blue Coast), I decided to head back to Nice. When I realized there was nowhere I could think to park overnight (as I was too broke to buy a hotel again after my airline mishap), I decided to just park in the airport parking. Unfortunately, there aren’t places like Wal-Mart parking lots to spend nights in as in America. I could have again at one of the interstate rest stops, but then I’d of had to pay the toll again and risk getting the car keyed again. So, airport it was.

Having nothing better to do in the night, I went into the airport, pretending I was waiting on someone, and charged my phone while reading the rest of my Vonnegut novel. So, around midnight, I popped back into the parking garage to snooze, and snooze I did! Luckily for me, I can sleep anywhere.

Naturally, I had to choose the one parking garage in the world that blasts classical music and announcements all night… but I sleep like a rock, so no problem there.

I used the morning hours waiting for my aunt in the airport filling out postcards that I had backlogged on. It was good I did so, because the flight my aunt was on from Madrid was delayed an hour, but upon her arrival we hit up the city of Nice!

Parking, as everywhere, was a pain… but we managed to find somewhere after checking in at the Hotel Beau Rivage (classical French name there). With just a slight peak out of the right side of our window, we could see the sea! I’ll attach Facebook links for pictures toward the end of this entry.

The next few days we dined, drank, walked, and otherwise explored the beautiful city of Nice. I must say, by the end of our stay there, we had a pretty good handle on the city! One of the days we actually hiked up a small mountain overlooking the city, and just like in Genova, it was spectacular! Seeing history (the mountain hosted the ruins of a 1500s castle/fortress) mixed with the beauty of the French Rivera is one of those things even I could never forget.

Food in France? Fantastic. Although, just as everywhere I’ve been, the most popular food appears to be Italian. No problem there! Still, we dined in style, with many views of the Mediterranean and lovely shopping districts in Nice throughout our 3-ish day stay. 

Naturally, we had to also try the Champagne. I must say… I don’t typically like champagne, but having it in France just makes it good plain and simple. We tried several wines too, but I must say… German beer is far better than French wine to me. But I’m not classy, so my opinion is moot.

We also hit up a few Irish pubs on several of the nights, and considered ourselves “regulars” after visiting more than once. I’d say we were! We even found a pup with Desperados on tap, a French beer I may have mentioned before that tastes like a slightly sweet Corona. It says it’s flavored with tequila, but you can’t really taste it… still, it’s awesome!

Aside time again: France truly surprised me. I was expecting it to be beautiful, but not as beautiful as it actually was. I was expecting the French language to be beautiful with its speakers snobby. In fact, though, the language was beautiful and those speaking it were nothing but pleasant anywhere I went! Of all the places I have visited thus, I think France, at least Southern France, is a place I could live; the weather, scenery, and people are all simply gorgeous.

Speaking of gorgeous, I cannot emphasize this point enough: the French people, as a whole, are the most beautiful people I have ever seen. In all of the places I went, the French I saw (excluding those not speaking French, of course) looked, on the whole, like a collection of magazine models. I rarely become speechless, as it is against my very essence of being, but on a trip down the elevator at our hotel one morning a lovely lady joined me, and I could not even say “Bonjour!”

But I digress.

As lovely as France was, we obviously had to leave eventually… so the morning after our final night (in which, rather than pub hop, we stayed in our room and DJ’ed classic songs over French champagne… again, just as if we were in a movie), I escorted my aunt back to the airport and headed East towards Italy. 

My intention at first was to head to Savona again to see it in the daylight, as it had been quite pretty. However, I saw a sign for Monaco on the way there and decided to stop for a spell just so see what it was all about.

WOW. That’s all I can say.

First and foremost, I thank myself for my total lack of planning again; you can’t find things this pretty when you plan everything, if for no other reason than the fact that you have no expectations about a place you don’t contemplate beforehand. Monaco is no exception.

Second, I must regretfully admit that I did not realize there was a difference in the country of Monaco and that of Morocco. I fail at geography. Boy, was I wrong.

The city/country itself is, without a doubt, the single richest cities I have ever been in. Everything was absolutely ornate beyond belief, and the city was clean as a whistle. Even construction zones were kept tidy! And, to top it off, the city of Monte Carlo (which I have yet to figure out if it is the Principality of Monaco’s sole city or not… the city’s four districts all run together) sits just above the beauty of the sea. Beautiful!

From what I gathered, the Monaco Grand Prix had just occurred during the last week in Monaco. I confess, even though I am what the Brits call a “petro head,” aka car fanatic, I have no idea what this Grand Prix entails. All I know is, there were temporary bleachers and stands setup alongside massive lighting banks throughout the city, and apparently one week before, massive Formula One series cars blasted through the inner city itself. 

Yes, you heard correct: the world’s fastest cars flew throughout the very heart of Monte Carlo, the city I consider the richest city I’ve ever seen. That means cars with more horsepower than sense flew past Cartier, Louis Vouttion, and Prada establishments like they were convenience stores.

This being said, I finally realized the point of the double-barriers along the major roads throughtout the city and the steel rope extending beyond it. You’d think this would be hideous, but actually it was barely noticeable against the backdrop of the sea and the overly ornate buildings throughout the city!

I probably walked more in Monaco than anywhere else the entire trip, and I had walked a lot. I walked the entire length of the harbor area, which was quite a feat in of itself without considering one side of it was another relatively high mountain. That uphill bit was totally worth it, though; the views from there were probably the best I have seen of the sea thus!

I got to see the Prince’s Palace, as Monaco is truly a Principality, alongside many historic buildings including a cathedral and the city’s famous Casino. It was absolutely nothing to see two Ferrari supercars in a row cruising down the street, followed by several Porches, Audis, and Mercedes supercars. Like you do. 

I even saw the world’s fastest production car put-putting down the road: the Bugatti Veyron. Like you do.

At the Casino, I also got to see several Rolls Royce’s, a Bentley, and several cars I had never even heard of. 

Considering I am a car addict (as I have discussed previously my addiction to Top Gear), this was essentially the 40 virgins in heaven for me.

I again dined on the Mediterranean sea with a view of the whole harbor, but as paradise cannot last forever, I again headed out of Monte Carlo.

The city is truly fantastic: on one side, a mountain complete with among the most ornate buildings I have thus seen. In the harbor’s center, some of the most beautiful yachts I have seen. On the other side, man-made beaches. All of it? Spectacular.

Finding my way out of the city, as usual, was a bit difficult and treacherous; there’s simply no easy way to climb hundreds of feet up mountainous terrain in a really small amount of space. Still, I made it out, and as the sun finally set, headed back to Milan, where I flew out the next morning. The views, again, were so wonderful that it was all I could do to keep up with the French and Italian fast drivers on the very windy roads.

Yes, I had to drive through Milan again when I got near the airport, because apparently there is no bypass around the city that I could find. Yes, I thought I was lost for a while, but somehow managed to figure out that I needed the interstate headed towards Venice (which you should know is Valencia in Italian, just as Milan is Milano in Italian and Mailand in German…). After refueling again and sleeping in my Fiat for the last night, I returned the rental car early in the morning and, after again nearly missing my flight, caught the plane to Frankfurt Hahn.

I should note here, too, that I had to re-buy both my return flight and its accompanying bus shuttle to Trier due to my mistakenly thinking my Aunt was leaving a day earlier than I thought. This one was cheaper than the $180 I paid for the first, but still expensive. And still stupid of me having bought two plane tickets and two bus tickets for nothing. But… “so it goes.”

Naturally, as soon as I was back in Trier by noon, I had classes from 2pm-7pm, so I was beat.

Luckily, actually, today has been relatively overcast (Wednesday June 8), so I’ve been more motivated to sit here and detail my recent travels. I now have many things due in the coming month, including one paper and two presentations, but… there’s always tomorrow, right?

Coming up in the fast European life of Sam: Friday I leave for Poland to visit the Nazi concentration camp I mentioned before, then Barcelona, then Rome, then the three day music festival, then Trier for literally one day, then Paris! All in all, aside from tomorrow, I will be back in Trier for less than two whole days until June 26! They say life is wasted on the young, and again: I disagree.

But: views such as those offered on the Mediterranean coast made me rethink the materialism that, prior to Europe, I had lived by. After seeing this raw beauty, I’ve decided that to be happy, you don’t necessarily need wealth and/or “things.” What you need are moments, and the French Riviera provided those in abundance. It will be hard to top it.

Facebook Links:

Genova:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2026774639704.2120076.1554191092&l=2e86c50e14

Nice:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2026804160442.2120078.1554191092&l=971c3d8c0f

Monaco:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2026869762082.2120081.1554191092&l=707a611f1c