Catholic Mecca: The Greatest Things Coming to an End

Fast rewind back to the last blog. Before Rome, before Venice, to Vienna. The slow, agonising hours that had an inherent and unnatural stamina which prevented their swift passing until we boarded the train to Venice, the pastel swathed canal strewn city that was our second last port of call. Our mistakes neccessitated the catching of a 1920 train which arrived in Venice at the unholy hour of 0300. We scraped throught the rest of the day, buying some food for the train ride, playing guitar (in my case) and napping. With about half an hour to spare before our train left, we stirred casually and meandered to what we assumed was the enigmatic 'south station' that was very impractically cut off from the underground network of Vienna. when we got to the station we had assumed to be the right one, we were a little anxious. Myself probably the most of us all. We were moving in our hulf run that typified travelling with 20kg packs when we were late for appointments, through a maze of half lit concrete corridors and tracks, none of which bore any familiarity to the station we wanted. I'm used to wondering if we'd arrived at the last time that we're going to get lucky, and apparently it wasn't that night! A (very!) helpful local with an unforgettable belly laugh gave us directions via the overground network which we winged (that is, did not pay for. surprise surprise!) and we made it to the station needed with about ten minutes to spare. Loads of time!



We have really come to fear travelling on trains in some ways, particularly when we don't have a reservation. This is because in most cases, after we're all comfortable and settled in nicely, we get some random creep come and usurp our seats from under us, leaving us standing or split up. It's a very invasive and uncomfortable process! Although we had (costly!) reservations for this train, it could have turned out sour when we got into our train compartment, to find a (presumably stoned) derelict on one of the seats, who then asked is this yours? I immediately reverted to my 'oh no its ok' response, because mathematically there was still an extra two seats in the cabin, but nick, in his infinite wisdom interjected with fervour, stating that yes, this was our seat, and added a slightly apologetic and probably pointless tone to the sentence just for measure. As it were, we enjoyed a creep free trip that waned long into the night. What was described by our hostel as a 30m boat ride to the island on which we were staying totaled about an hour, resulting in us reaching our hostel at about 0530, when all said and done. Now don't you all get too jealous!



We awoke, basking in the (wait for it...) morning sun that was streaming through our windows. This comparative oasis which had eluded us throughout europe with few exceptions was completely welcome, and we got to our feet for a well earned breakfast. This was the straw to break my back, the moment when I decided against my better judgement to get a pizza, purely on the merit of their volume to cost ratio. Little did I know that it would doom the pizza for the rest of my trip, and who knows how much more? I am completely sick of pizza. The thought if it makes bile threaten. And we had only just arrived in Italy.



It took about an hour for a thick, chilled mist to sink down to the street level of our island haven, dispelling the mood ressurected by the sun's radiance. We took a very eerie but awesome boat ride to the mainland and set about on foot, taken aback by the fully fledged mask industry that was geared for tourists with more means than us. We came to find that it was not just the masks that were out of our price ranges by a long way, but everything else. For instance, when trick asked for directions to a cheap restaurant the 'customer oriented' assistance booth employees gave a curt and breathy 'no', without saying another word. So plain baguettes it was. again. But nick and I showed our instinct for resourcefulness and bought some yoghurt. Damn good yoghurt.

The following day was first shadowed then brightened by the loss and finding of my ipod. We took a slow sunny boat ride to get to the main station, and then to Rome, which was very easily organised.

The next day, in our fantastic hostel, we enjoyed the kitchen with some cooking of our own (from which I am recovering pleasantly) and then hit Rome. Hard. We saw the better part of it during our 4 hours plus walk around the city, even seeing the pope.

So now, we wind up. I had to write the last two mini paragraphs again because the internet screwed up, so I might end it there a bit disheartened. But get ready readers! Our triumphant return is soon! Many houses are about to get louder and definately better.

Ciao!