AROUND NAPLES

Baristas at Cafe Mexico. Which is understood to be (oddly enough) the best coffee in Italy. 

Kris and I at the highest peak in Naples, dubbed "the secret garden" which you have to hop a 15 foot fence to reach. This was minutes before we got kicked out and yelled at. Kris is a fellow workawayer at the hostel. He appears to be your typical American broseph at first but he's super smart, inquisitive and full of surprises... like when you learn he plays the mandolin, is planning on studying neuroscience and says things like "you know, sometimes Macy Gray just really hits the spot". He's only 18 and I blew his mind when I told him John Mayer had an album before Room For Squares because he was only 3 YEARS OLD when it come out. I didn't think kids born in 1996 were eating solid foods at this point, but apparently they're traveling around Europe. 

Clotheslines are EVERYWHERE in Naples. 

Apparently it's a bit of faux pas to order a cappuccino past 10 AM in Italy. This hasn't deterred me in any way, especially because I try not to be awake before 10 AM. 

Vesuvius (!) over the Mediterranean. Last erupted in 1944. Still a bit too recent. 

One funny thing about Naples is that while the streets are rather dirty, the subways are SPOTLESS. Many of the stations have been designed by artists and are absolutely immaculate. This is at Toledo station, which is filled with blue tile sculptures, ocean scenes and a tunnel that lets the sun shine through.  

Matias and Marcos, Argentinian workawayers at the hostel who are also DJ's under the name Rebel Pandaff. One night they played at a local club so we all went and danced til 5 AM. I won't lie, I don't fully understand what "Deep House" music is quite yet but this song starting at the 24:10 mark is my jaaaaaam. 

NAPLES, ITALY

Naples is (gratifying) chaos. 

Naples has all the elements of a city I would normally hate: crowded, dirty, filled with bad graffiti and loud people... but for some reason, it's completely thrilling and charming. And thank god, because I'm here for a whole month (2.5 weeks-in at the moment... a bit behind on blog posts!). 

I haven't properly captured the insanity of Naples through photos yet but trust me when I say it's there. The thousands of scooters carrying whole families (babies and dogs included) and loud Italians yelling and gesticulating from cars, windows and shops are a couple of cinematic stereotypes proved to be very true. 

I'm reading An Italian in Italy right now which explains that "...in Italy rules are not obeyed as they are elsewhere. We think it's an insult to our intelligence to comply with a regulation. Obedience is boring. We want to think about it. We want to decide whether a particular law applies to our specific case. In that place, at that time". I admire the sentiment but this Italian attitude towards traffic laws ensures that I feel like I've cheated death every time I've successfully crossed the street. 

Vesuvius, looming in the background. 

Despite being the perfect package for a tourist spot (warm weather, rich history, on the coast, amazing food-- the pizza is here is OUT OF CONTROL), Naples has failed to take advantage of the tourist industry. This means (outside of the hostel) I rarely see another non-Italian and it's made the last few weeks here feel really authentic.

My 2 years of Italian at BC has proved completely useless (not that I retained much at the time) as Neapolitan Italian is a whole other vernacular away from standard Italian. The few phrases that I do know must be said with an accent that feels like I'm mocking Mario and/or Luigi in order for anyone to understand what I'm saying, so usually I get by with a lot of smiling and nodding. Although doing that, I did agree to a dinner date with a butcher when I thought he was just talking about the pancetta I ordered. So now I have to find a new neighborhood butcher. 

It's been a genuine Italian adventure so far.

More soon. Expect a lot of photos of pizza. 

24 HOURS IN ROME

Flying in from Marseille, I had 24 hours in Rome before heading to Naples by train. I ate delicious pizza, drank an overpriced cappuccino and toured the Colosseum and the Roman Forum. 

At the Colosseum tour I learned that the politicians and rich people always got the good seats (the stadium held up to 80,000) and the gladiators would risk their lives and well-being for money, fame and women. So really, not much has changed in the sports and entertainment industry. 

+ Keep clicking the last photo above for a few more shots. 

The touristy sites were educational but the real cultural experience was meeting Angelo (doppleganger of the drummer from The Strokes), an Italian kid flying back to his hometown after a year in Marseille. We spent a few hours together at the airport and he taught me useful Italian phrases while I taught him American curse words which he promptly texted to all of his friends. American diplomacy at it's best. 

ENTREVAUX

Took a train up through the mountains to visit Entrevaux, France... a medieval village that still has a drawbridge and mote around it. It was kind of like Game of Thrones meets Beauty and The Beast, but with crepes.

The little village consists of dark and narrow streets and it's been around since the 5th century when it was called La Sedz-Glandèves. The current village was built in the 11th century and it was fortified around 1542 when King François first declared it a Royal Town in the Kingdom of France. I was there in the off-season so it was really quiet and one of the few beings I met was a dog who lured me into a creperie (brilliant outbound marketing).

Dressed completely inappropriately for a hike, I hiked up the 5,000 foot hill (mountain? Let's call it a mountain) to reach the top of the Citadel that stands above the village and was last used in World War I as a prison for German soldiers. I took in gorgeous views of the valley of the Alpes-de-Haute-Provence and the multi-colored Entrevaux rooftops from up there. 

It was a nice little day in the French countryside. 

MONACO

Took a day trip from Nice to visit Monaco, the second smallest country in the world (the Vatican is the first). 

A 2 Euro bus ride along the gorgeous coast and through little French villages got me there in less than an hour. Monaco was great for rich-people watching with the Monte Carlo casino and it's fancy cars, expensive stores and giant port full of massive yachts. 

THE MAMAC

The one rainy day in Nice called for a visit to the Musée d'art Moderne et d'art Contemporain. 

I wandered around listening to this which really elevated the whole gallery experience (particularly this song with the work by Juliao Sarmento). On the way back, to get out of a torrential downpour I ducked into an open pub and found an American ex-pat behind the bar who gave me all sorts of recommendations and info for day trips outside of Nice. He told me stories of how he met his Belgian wife and why he still hates the French even after living there for 10 years. It was an extremely informative unplanned happy hour. 

AROUND NICE

My week in Nice proved to be lovely for lazying around on the rocky beach, strolling through the flower market, big nights out with fellow travelers, running along the coast, easy day trips and many cappuccinos on sunny terraces. 

I stayed at Hostel Meyerbeer Beach which was one block from the beach and perfect for socializing. One of the dudes in my room turned out to be an intern at Cramer 15 years ago (!!) and I got an English kid to make me a traditional English dinner called "Toad in the Hole" which was deliciously hearty. It felt like Thanksgiving compared to my recent apple + brie combo meals. 

Geoff, Cramer Alumnus

Traditional English dinner, by Rupert. 

Most nights consisted of games in the hostel, followed by wine on the beach and then we would meander over to Wayne's, a dirty dive bar in the center of town that felt very out of place in Nice but made me feel right at home. I was very happy to discover that House of Pain is universally loved as our diverse group (American, French, Australian, French Canadian, Finnish, German, Columbian + British) went wild and all jumped on tables to dance to this song. 

Local liquor/cookie store owner who every time I came in told me I was "looking more African" (tanned) so obviously he was my favorite person in all of France. 

When planning my time in the South of France I originally had a different destination in mind but after less than 24 hours in filthy, crowded Marseille I said "screw this, I'm going to Nice". After reflecting on how insanely absurd it is that I can say something like "screw this, I'm going to Nice" and then hop on a train, I hopped on a train and had a fantastic week in Nice. I constantly feel very lucky and also like a complete jerk for getting to have experiences like this... but I'm certainly enjoying it. 

NICE, FRANCE

Nice, France deserves it's name. 

Within an hour of arriving I was on the beach, swimming in the French Riviera and very, very pleased. Nice is super clean, warm and colorful. It has tight, winding alley-ways around the Vielle Ville (Old Town) and a vast turquoise ocean that seems to curve over the horizon. It's really quite nice. 

VERSAILLES

Took a day trip and visited the Palace of Versailles, the official residence for the Kings of France from 1682 to 1790. It's extravagant and massive to say the least, with a style that reminded me of Rebecca King's decor (lots of florals). The entire property is larger than the island of Manhattan AND modern day Paris. 

Walking around the palace gets a bit boring after awhile (all gold everything, chandelier after chandelier, French royalty had some money to throw around, WE GET IT) but the gardens outside are really where it's at. You can rent boats, ride bikes, eat ice cream or just lay next to the Grand Canal and work on your tan (like I did). 

PARIS FASHION

Went for a run my first morning in Paris and ran into paparazzi swarming outside an Issey Miyake fashion show. 

Why they didn't want to capture me in my Nike Frees and sports bra I'll never know, but I got a few phone camera shots of beautiful attendees in some killer outfits. 

PARIS

Paris is magic. 

Paris consisted of tartines at Amelie's cafe in Montmartre, a night bike tour and cruise along the Seine, a long run through the Jardin Du Luxemborg, macaroons at the Sacre Le Coeur and living off brie and chocolate. If you eat a block of brie in the USA you feel sick, but if you do it in Paris you feel fantastic and Parisienne. It might have something to do with pasteurization but let's go with magic. 

Also, if you every find yourself in Paris and don't know anyone or the language... I recommend that you go to the nearest bar that is vaguely related to the language you speak (Cafe Oz), buy a beer and pretend to watch whatever sport is on the television (soccer). Within 15 minutes you'll get asked what team you're rooting for and from there, you'll have 7 new French friends to get beers, kebabs and mojitos with. Everyone will get a good laugh when you explain that you don't give a shit about soccer. Works like a charm. See above. 

24 HOURS IN LONDON

After a sleepy bus ride from Oxford (I'm that jerk that takes up the whole backseat row to fully recline) I had a quick and fun 24 hours in London before taking a train to Paris. 

Got more banh mi at Keu, was lured into The Bridge Lounge by the sound of blues guitar and reunited with the other kids from the hostel for our favorite past time of buying £1.50 beers and creating an outdoor patio in front of The Dictionary.

It was a nice experience to return to a city (that two weeks ago was completely foreign) and be able to easily navigate my way back to somewhere that almost felt like home and see familiar friendly faces. 

OXFORD

Took a train from Cardiff and stopped in Oxford for a few days. Home of the oldest university in the English speaking world, it oozes a historic, academic feel with it's grandiose, ivy covered buildings. 

baby rugby practice

While in Oxford, I painted my nails in Christchurch Meadow (you have to get creative when you're living in a room with 11 other people) and managed to get locked inside a downtown cafe. Long story, but for a solid hour I was trapped inside Art Cafe surrounded by baked goods and free wifi, which if you think about it, was kind of a dream come true.

Having to go to the post office, I found myself in the historic Jericho neighborhood which was originally a place for travelers to rest if they reached the city after the gates had closed. Now it has hippie book stores, cute cafe's and a stunning pottery shop, Illyria, that's owned by a lovely American with great curls.  

+ Keep clicking the photo above for more shots around Jericho. 

I stopped into Oxford to visit my friend George, who I also know from my time in Australia. He just finished school at Oxford and is now working as a General Manager for a brand new bar called The Chester. George is charming as hell, full of pizazz, could talk me off a cliff and is an incredible storyteller. We caught up over many pints and he told me about his life the last 5 years and his recent gigs as a VIP Host at the London and Sochi Olympics ("Nicole Kidman? Nothing to her! Looks like a praying mantis!"). He took me on a mini-bar crawl to the historical Bear Inn (oldest in Oxford, dates back to 1242), Turf Tavern (beautifully lit outdoor seating) and the bohemian Cafe Tarifa. 

Oxford reminded me of the gorgeous bits of Boston College and George was an absolute delight to see again. Good couple of days. 

BRECHFA, WALES

After Worms Head, we made our way up to visit another friend from our days at Little Creatures, Osian. Osian lives deep (real deep) in the countryside of West Wales. He’s a woodsy carpenter who lives with his sweet Irish girlfriend in a charming and romantic little chalet in the absolute middle of nowhere. The closest village (25 minutes away) is Brechfa which has existed in the Cothi Valley in Carmarthenshire since the 6th century and currently has a population of 300. 

Osian, Joe and myself in the countryside of Wales, 5 years after slinging pales ales in Western Australia. It's a small, nice little world sometimes. 

Brechfa was opening it’s only pub, the Forest Arms for the first time in 6 years and we attended the grand opening. There are so few people in the village, that they’ve had to shut down the church and the school so they’re re-opening the pub in an effort to have a community meeting place. I’m pretty sure all 300 residents came for the opening night as the place was PACKED. Eighty-percent were over the age of 60 as well, so it was quite the crowd. 

They preserved the steps outside that folks would use to mount their horses (after a quick stop at the pub) back in the day

They served Welsh ales on tap, the Welsh Men’s Choir sang and I had an absolute ball experiencing a seriously authentic night in a Welsh pub. Everyone joked that I was the only Bostonian to ever set-foot in Brechfa and I was thrilled to be there. 

Driving back on the insanely narrow, dark and winding roads we listened to Willy Mason and then had a big sleep over at the chalet. In the morning, Osian broke out his carpenter tools and the boys carved a spatula. It was the most productive thing I’ve ever witnessed before 11 AM and I encouraged them while lazily enjoying my coffee.  

Heading back to Cardiff, it was a gorgeous warm and clear day (very uncharacteristic of Wales) so Joe and I stopped at the Dryslwyn Castle to take in some lovely views of the expansive, green countryside. The castle has ties to Lord Rhys (a prince who reigned until 1197), changed hands between various Welsh princes (as castles tend to do) and was a fortress before falling to the English Crown in 1287. History like this makes the USA sound like pre-teen. 

I quite enjoyed sitting on a castle on a Sunday morning. I'll have to make that into a regular thing.