Day 49

As a child the thought of the six weeks summer holiday seemed like a lifetime, yet here I am, seven weeks into my trip and it has passed at an unbelievable rate!

To keep you up to speed here's a list of where I've been so far!

Venice - Bologna - Chianti - Florence - Pisa - Grosseto - Siena - Venice - Milan - Venice - Rimini - Perugia

I thought I'd do a slightly different post today, and share with you some misconceptions that I had prior to traveling, and the truths about these that I have learnt so far.

What I Thought
Keep all of your money and cards in one safe place, this way you won't lose track of anything.
What I Know
If/when you lose this holy grail of money, you are stuck. SPREAD IT OUT. Most backpacks have several different internal pockets, utilise these, hopefully this will prevent you being completely without cash or cards. 

What I Thought
I'll need a new outfit for everyday. Just because I'm backpacking doesn't mean this can't be a glamorous European adventure.
What I Know
It means exactly that. If I had but one word to sum up the trip so far it definitely wouldn't be glamorous. It would probably be sweaty. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, it just means that wearing a freshly washed and pressed ensemble everyday would bankrupt me in laundry fees. Also, the weight of carting around all of this stuff would no doubt cripple you.

What I Thought
Hostels are dirty and have terrible facilities, but they're cheap.
What I Know
Currently, I'm sitting with my legs dangling in a pool, in a hostel with the most stunning panoramic views of Perugia, for €15 a night. That's £10, less than what I'd spend on my lunch break back at home. Majority of the places I've stayed have been really lovely, granted there have been a couple which have left a great deal to the imagination, but to me a hostel means social. Yes you share a bathroom, a kitchen, and more often than not a bedroom, but it also means that you share your experience. I have met so many interesting and wonderful people who I would have missed had I stayed in a solitary room in a hotel. No its not the height of luxury, but what you lose in tiny shampoos and mints on the pillows, you more than gain in friendship. 

What I Thought
You need loads of money to travel for an extended period of time.
What I Know
In the past three days I've had nine delicious, filling meals and it has cost me €8.24 (£5.79). A bag of pasta that lasts five days costs me €1.20 and anything else is a treat. If you truly want to travel and experience as much as you can, for as long as you can, you simply can't afford to be picky about it! 

Unfortunatley I find myself yet again without a computer, meaning that a whole host of my photos are currently trapped inside my camera. As soon as I can I'll be sure to bombard the blog with them! 

Heading off to Rome tomorrow, and will post about all the wonderful, ancient sites just as soon as I can get my hands on an SD port!

Ciao.

Settling In

Evening!

Sorry that I've been a little absent! The past few weeks have been really busy for me, finding my feet in this new job, moving into an apartment and still managing to explore Venice in any free time I get!

I haven't managed to write as much as I'd have liked, which has probably been a good thing seeing as I got pretty home sick for the first time last week. I know it's really ridiculous, especially considering how long I intend to be gone for, but it happened. I think it was a result of me actually stopping. Until now I've been moving so frequently, meeting so many people and just being constantly occupied. To then find myself actually living somewhere, without constant distractions and without any long term friends was a pretty big shock. A ludicrously long Skype session with my mum managed to reassure me that what I was doing was in fact quite amazing and I should just suck it up and realise where I am. I was also fortunate to have kept in touch with some people from my first trip to Venice so having people to meet up with has helped no end, making me fall in love with the city all over again!

Another sizable development for me has been moving to somewhere semi-permanently, bringing with it the ability to unpack! Such simple delights as being able to actually select what I'm going to wear for the day, rather than a lucky-dipesque way to dressing has improved my days ten fold. Having somewhere to go that I know is just for me is really lovely as well, and being two minutes away from where I work means I don't lose out on any valuable sleep. The apartment itself is what we call a 'work in progress' but it's free and in the centre of Venice, so I can deal with some peeling paint!

It's been so nice knowing that I'm here for more than just a couple of days, up until now I've felt the need to cram as much sight seeing into as little time as possible and it has really worn me out. Being able to take my time and enjoy the city at my own pace has been a real blessing. This past week I've spent my days off visiting the islands; Lido, San Michele, Murano and Burano.

Lido has a beach! Coming from somewhere where the nearest sea is 2 hours away, brown and cold this is by far one of the best developments. It's June and I can not only sunbathe but actually swim in a sea that won't give my hypothermia. Such wonders do not exist in England and I have a feeling I'll be spending a decent amount of time there over the next few weeks.

Murano and Burano come as a sort of pair, famous for it's glass, Murano fully embraces this. Every shop is packed full of stunning hand made pieces, most of which with a price tag staggering enough to make you to choke on your gelato (of which I am consuming an inordinate amount). I visited here and Burano with a really lovely guest from the Hostel where I work. We stood for at least half an hour watching an ornament being created from scratch which was really amazing, It was interesting to see the mundanity with which the tasks were performed, I suppose that even the most elaborate of jobs become routine when done enough.

Burano has somehow managed to create tourism purely through painting their houses. There is literally nothing else there. Don't get me wrong, it clearly works, that's why we went there, and why we stayed all day! It looks like it was designed by a child, each house a brighter, more vibrant version of the last, the colours complimented perfectly by the clear blue sky. Eating a picnic surrounded by all of this gorgeous scenery I realised I couldn't be further from homesick!

So that's what I've been up to. I'd be lying if I said it isn't strange having to work again, but I get every other day off to go and explore more of this wonderful place, and I can genuinely say that I lived in Venice now (even if it was only a month!)

There are worse views to have whilst waiting for the bus!

From the top of San Marco tower.

Glass crafting in Murano.

Glass crafting in Murano.

Perfectly blue sky and sculptures.

Even the walls are decorated in glass!

Shop front in Murano. 

Burano in all it's colourful glory.

Burano.

Possibly the best gelato in all the world!

Day 14

I've survived two whole weeks! A little part of me doubted I'd even get on the plane, so 14 days really is an achievement!

What have I been up to then? After leaving Venice, with a very heavy heart, I travelled down to Bologna for the night. Personally, it wasn't my favourite place in the world. Such a massive contrast between the easy going pace of Venice and the rather "in your face" atmosphere of Bologna was a bit much. After then I headed (by accident) to a small town in Tuscany called Tavarnelle Val di Pesa, I thought I'd booked into a hostel in Florence but I was mistaken. This was however a very happy accident and what was supposed to be just a one night stop turned into three. My days were spent cycling around the Tuscan hills, having barbecues, picnicking in fields and wine tasting.
From there I actually managed to make it to Florence, where I met up with some of the people I'd met in Tuscany. Florence was utterly breath taking. The scorching heat certainly helped, but the historical surroundings would look stunning in any weather. Watching the sun set from Piazzale Michelangelo is an experience not to be missed. On my last day some girls from my hostel and I visited the top of the Duomo. A LOT of stairs, but you can see all of Florence and then some.
After four days there I moved slightly west to Pisa, purely for the tower, as there isn't a lot else there. It really is something to behold, it's slightly disorientating and I have absolutely zero idea how it's still standing!
With the intention of heading further south to Rome I decided to stop off in a hostel in Grosseto for a couple of nights. This hostel in Grosseto turned out to in fact be a tent in Le Marze. Le Marze was lovely, and the beach was a much appreciated bonus, the tent however was not very Grace friendly! For anyone who doesn't know me, camping isn't really my thing, and having to walk through woods just to go to the toilet is my personal idea of hell! I somehow managed to survive (despite the spiders and mozzies) and this is when my plans changed rather drastically. After firing off a quick email to a Workaway host in Venice about a possible vacancy in July, I was told that I could start as soon as I could get there! So that's exactly what I've done.
Two weeks to the day that I first started my adventure and arrived in Venice I'm back, and really couldn't be happier about it! In exchange for some cleaning and looking after guests, I get to stop and eat for free in a stunning boutique B&B right in San Marco square.
So overall life's going pretty well! I will still hopefully go down to Rome and Naples, but for the time being, the ability to stay rent free in my favourite city really is an opportunity I couldn't afford to pass up. Fortunately for me there is a computer here so I can share with you some of the photos of my trip so far.

Ciao!

The view whilst wine tasting in Tuscany.

Outside the Uffizi Gallery, Florence.

Giardini Boboli, Florence.

Giardini Boboli, Florence.

Sunset from Piazzale Michelangelo, Florence.

View from the top of the Duomo , Florence.

Leaning tower of Pisa.

A Venice Fish

Well, I am totally and completely in love with Venice. I love the city, the people, the hostel, the food, everything. Part of me is unsure if it's just a result of it being my first stop, but then there is also a massive part of me that knows it's jut because it's fabulous! 

It is amazing how quickly you get used to there being no cars, and noting associated with them. The traffic, noise, polution, and just the general sense of haste that all of these things bring. Day to day life seems so wonderfully relaxed and leisurely. 

The scenery is of course spectacular, canals flowing freely through the city adorned with beautifully ornate gondolas, the sound of street music everywhere you turn, vast historic buildings, sheer bliss. 

My stay was improved vastly through the hospitality of the hostel I was lucky enough to be staying in, A Venice Fish. With it being my first location I was more nervous than I'd care to admit about not meeting people and ending up on my own. However both the guests and staff were so keen to help, making dinner for everyone, taking us out at night and showing me some of the sights. I think if it weren't for this imediate warm welcome I received it would have been difficult for me to persevere with doing this trip solo. 

So thank you Venice for such a truly   wonderful first experience. Unfortunately I am yet to find a computer to transfer my photos onto, but as soon as I do rest assured you will be inundated with shots of this beautiful city! 

Ciao. 

Day 1

6.30am BST- Plane

I haven't slept in just under 24 hours, for those who don't know me this is unheard of. I need sleep. And yet I've done it, not only have I managed to stay awake, but also my first solo plane journey! I think I'll survive as long as I have something to do, aimlessness is not my friend. I'm slightly worried about the weight of my enormous backpack and how I'll repack it considering mum did most of it for me. Independent traveller as ever. 

11.30am Italian Time- Compo del Ghetto Nuovo

Managed to navigate my way to the hostel like a boss, however dressed for rain and have been greeted with glorious sunshine, not complaining, just super warm! Currently sitting on a bench opposite Museo Ebrairo eating my lunch. Very surreal. I am in Venice. In Italy. On my own. 

2pm- Scuola Grande di San Rocca

Attempting to get some culture. Found this by pure chance, rambling around I I followed the sound of guitars and here I am, sitting in a great hall full of Venetian art. Worry it's wasted on me though, trying very hard to appreciate the skill involved in all of these intricate paintings, but knowing absolutely nothing about art makes it difficult. Need to check into my hostel soon as I'm totally shattered, been awake now for 29hours. Am I allowed to have a little nap or is that wasting being in Venice? Praying the hostel has wifi. 

5pm- A Venice Fish Hostel

Just woke up after a little power nap. Thank god. Been invited for dinner with the hostel staff and other guests but that's not for another three hours. It's been a long day. Exciting yet long. The hostel itself is very 'Eat, Pray, Love', a gorgeous old building but in need of a lot of love and a vast infusion of money. The paint has all but peeled off the walls and the structural integrity of the bunk beds is very questionable, but it does the job and I feel like I'm in real Venice. 

My Mum

Last year I wrote a piece about my mum's travels for my journalism course, here it is...

Theresa Chuter finished school at 16 and went to work in a factory, as it seemed all of her town did. By 21 she had progressed up to a bookkeeper/wages clerk at a local engineering company. It was at this point that she became “disillusioned” with life. “One day I was walking down the tiny little corridor that I walked up and down so many times and just thought, ‘how many more times am I going to do this?’ and I thought, ‘this is my life. I need to do something with it.’” And that was it, she quit her job and bought a one way ticket to Greece.

She had planned for a two month trip, with £400 and no immediate plans she aimed to get a job in Athens that would pay for her accommodation and return when she got fed up. “The first three weeks were just absolutely horrendous. I was lonely and homesick. ‘Go to Greece. Get a job.’ And then you get there and it’s a different thing all together. Nobody needed anybody. So I spent days and days wandering around looking for work.”

The reality hit home pretty quickly that running off and exploring wasn’t going to be as wonderful and idyllic as she’d have liked. The mundane job that she had been doing day in day out back in England looked a lot more appealing from 2400 miles away.

“And then I managed to get a job, and I met a fellow backpacker, my confidence was growing by this time so I went off to the islands, did a quick tour and thought ‘no. I am not ready to go home now. I can do this.’” With this new found love of Greece and confidence in herself growing, she returned to the islands, secured herself a job, and stayed there for five months.

By this time it was mid-October, England is freezing cold and Christmas songs are already starting to prematurely creep onto supermarket shelves and into our brains. Many of her high school friends had settled down and started families; my Mum however was heading for Egypt.

In today’s world, where I spend £30 a month on my phone bill, £60 on a haircut and £££ on dinners/nights out, I couldn’t understand how she could afford to not work for a month. She said that she had left with £400 and came back with £100, and that to survive she was ‘very, very skimpy with money’ and worked when she needed to. The freedom surrounding this idea is almost incomprehensible. Here my mother was, hopping about between continents without fear of the unknown, just a need to explore, I think that there’s much to be admired about that.

“The plan was to do Egypt and then come home. We were sitting on the roof of this hostel one night with other travellers, and people were saying where they were going and there was an American guy. He wasn’t event part of our group, he was just sitting on the roof reading, and he looked up and said ‘yeah, everyone seems to want to go to Bethlehem for Christmas’ and I thought ‘yeah. That’s a plan.’ Because by this time I was well into it, there was no way I wanted to go home.”

In under a year the experience had already changed her so much, the girl who was pining for home comforts now barely gave England a second thought, the girl who couldn’t wait to go home was now preparing to spend her first Christmas away from home. The more of the world outside of England she saw, the more she needed to see, there was not a chance that she could return to the confines of working in an office after experiencing the freedom of travelling.

                                                                                                                                                       

“I managed to get to Bethlehem for Christmas Eve. I secured a place on a kibbutz first, a tiny, tiny kibbutz with very, very few people. It was right on the Jordanian border, which at the time there was quite a few terrorists who came over from Jordan into Israel. Our first night there was spent, being told ‘Don’t cross the barbed wire, the gates lock at night so you can’t get out, if you see anything on the floor don’t pick it up, whatever it is you don’t know”.

Ten months into her two month trip she fell completely in love with Israel, her visa for Israel was valid for a year, and she saw it out to completion.

After this she moved to the south of Israel, “it looked like the end of the world, like if you walked any further you’d drop off, absolutely nothing at all. It was the back end of nowhere. At the time the Sinai desert, was being handed back to Egypt because of the peace talks. Over the months before I arrived people were slowly moving out and there was very few houses or anything left at all, but now it’s actually a thriving holiday resort called Sharm el-Sheik. It was called that when I was there but there were no hotels, or holiday complexes. It was just a lot of sand.”

By the time the second Christmas had rolled around her Israeli visa had ran out and she saw this as a good time to return home. She had been gone for two and a half years. During her time away contact with home had been sporadic at best, during her first lonely weeks she had written home every couple of days, then as she began to find her feet it altered to weeks, months and eventually when she could remember.

After catching up with her old friends, of who she now had very little to say to, she packed up and left again to do some “proper backpacking”. Starting in France she travelled across Europe to Belgium, The Netherlands, Austria, former Yugoslavia and Italy. She then found herself back in Athens where, through pure coincidence, she came across a girl who she had met on the bus from London to Athens years ago. Together they travelled to Istanbul where due to the heavy military presence they didn’t stay long before moving on back to Israel. “Then I think I got tired, there wasn’t really anywhere I wanted to go, apart from India and Australia and I wanted to go overland, but there was a lot of trouble between Iraq and Iran, so it wasn’t really safe to go overland for anybody. So after four and a half years I decided to go home for good this time.”

The time that my mother spent away changed her life forever, it gave her confidence, a passion for exploring other cultures and showed her how vast and diverse the world really is. She has always told me that she doesn’t want me to look back on my life with regrets from opportunities passed. She never has, and never will.  

It Started With an Australian.

“Admit it. It would make for a great story in ten years’ time. The night you spent in Prague on the Charles Bridge talking to that sort of cool, a little bit handsome Australian guy.” His words spun through my mind on the way back to airport. Nick and his wide grin and sparkling eyes, my friends' horrified reactions to the suggestion and insistence of me to stay, me pacifying them and declining the offer. Nick left. And I had no story for ten years’ time.

The anticipation built in the taxi on the way to the airport as talk of English Breakfast tea, hair products and other such home comforts circled me. The girls smiled and laughed whole heartedly at the idea of home, and I became aware of a shifting within me, an agitation building, starting low in my stomach like a deep hunger. All through security checks, passport controls and the endless isles of duty free my mind wandered, unable to focus on any one task at a time. The hunger pangs had continued to grow, feeding off one and other, infecting my bones right through to the marrow. It wasn’t until the need had grown so large, filling my entire body and expanding to the utmost corners of my soul that I could even pin point what the sensation was. Agitation, with life, with wasted time, with lost opportunities. What would I say in ten years time? What stories would I have to tell? None.

With this realisation I grew more and more fractious with every growing moment, life was on a timer and twenty years had already slipped by. At that point I couldn’t get home fast enough, couldn’t waste any more moments, any more potential adventures.

I need to start my life properly this time, no time for waiting, no need for anyone else.

With this new found lust for life I have planned my great escape from the mundanity of my current situation. Starting in Venice I plan to work my way down the east coast of Italy before heading over to Greece and hopping around the Sporades Islands.

Wish me luck - I fear I’ll need it.