Sleeping in Straw

The next morning we left Rob Larkin and Nick Vu at the bus station and headed up the valley further into Gimmelwald. We had to take a bus to Schelteberg or something like that and then a cable car up over the trees to Gimmelwald. I'm going to go ahead and make a conservative estimate here, and say the population of Gimmelwald is 50 people, 14 cows, 30 chicken, and a black cat.

The cable car - mountain transport

Our first stop was Esther's Guest House. Casey had contacted Esther about staying there based on the recommendation of her friend, Michelle. Esther didn't have any room in the inn, but said there was room in the straw. Sound familiar? When we got to reception, she took our 24 francs each and said, "The barn is 80 meters that way on the right." "Internet around here?" "No. Murren." There was nothing else.

Home Sweet Hay

Our first real welcome was the smell as we approached the barn. It was basically terrible. There was a chicken coop at the edge of the yard; within it the Schlaf im Stroh! sign that let us know we were home. As we got closer the smell got worse, till we were running for dear life to get into the stinky barn. Later we determined the cause: a grate in the sidewalk revealed a sludge pit of cow poo. Apparently it washes into this pit from within the barn, and then wafts up like a welcome mat. I saw a sign in the kitchen this morning when I washed the dishes that said to conserve water because the excess runs off into the pit, causing it to rise. Oh boy.

The barn was thankfully sans cows, which had just been taken out four weeks prior. We looked around, saw piles of blankets, and found our stall. We knew it was ours because they had taken the time to pin a thin piece of paper with "Casey Hammond, 4 persons" pinned on it. We took some time to shake out some blankets and make our bed. There was no heat, so we piled on lots of thick blankets and determined we would cuddle. The only light switch was outside the barn, so whoever came in last would have to make a blind run for their section of straw.

You can't see the big sign that says, "Please shake out and fold the blankets before you leave."

Our little stall

We also noticed a couple of signs that informed us that straw sleepers were NOT to use the facilities of Esther's guest house. We kept making jokes about going up there after rolling in the straw and trying to blend in. Would they recognize us as Straw People?

Just an example

Did I mention there was nothing really to do in the barn? And since it smelled, we carefully tucked away our clothes to prevent them smelling, and headed out for a walk. We quickly made it to the end of town. At this point that should probably not shock you. We bought a ticket on the next cable car upward to Murren, where we heard we could find internet.

Sweet Murren

We walked the town, which was bigger and a little prettier than Gimmelwald, I thought, but busier. We found lunch on a terrace and had some of the best food in Switzerland yet. I had a huge, fantastic club sandwich and Adam and Casey tried these hash brown things. We got sunburned: I have raccoon eyes and a Rudolph nose. Boo.

We walked back down to Gimmelwald and promptly realized we didn't have much to do. So we stopped in at Mountain Hostel, which we'd not heard great things about, just to see what it was like. It was awesome, warm, with a nice deck and the smell of awesome pizza floating from inside. It was almost painful to realize we were paying more per person to sleep in a barn. We stayed for awhile, then went to change as it was getting colder. We tried to make our barn stop as short as possible and then went back to the hostel. We ordered pizza and played a game of hearts with a guy we met, John. He told us he was quite the hearts shark. I beat him resoundingly.

Casey, the Shark. Actually, she often accidently shows us her hand. Every time we play cards one of us starts humming Kenny Rogers: "You've got to know when to hold 'em..."

We stayed at Mountain Hostel till about as late as we could, and even used their free internet. Remember the lady at our hostel saying no internet in town? Riiiight. Or across the street at the hospitable warm place for free. When we finally got back to the straw we realized we had a lot more neighbors. Someone had left their laundry out to dry right near the poop grate, which I thought was just a terrible idea. We made our way to our stall and then to the bathroom using Adam's head lamp. When we got back to snuggle in Casey got a fit of the giggles. The dad in the stall next to us stopped snoring long enough to shush her. I think I am destined to sleep with a snorer till I get to London.

The sleep was surprisingly sweet in the straw. I was cozy, warm, and comfortable. The 7:30 wakeup with breakfast's arrival wasn't the best. But the breakfast they provided was sufficient and fresh. We took the cable car back down to the valley (a stomach-dropping experience) and finally found beds at a hostel called Funny Farm. We're not that excited about it, once again feeling a bit ripped off, but it's just one night. We made it over to the Nissan Outdoor Games in time to catch a lot of the Bouldering competition, including watching Nick Vu. He was the only American in the competition. Go USA! He did well. The walls were ridiculously difficult. Casey had joked about joining the women's competition, but was glad she didn't when she saw all the jacked girls.

Nick at his peak

Posing with our friend, the international athlete

Later, at the finals. This is a start for the Finnish guy who won.

Tomorrow we head to Munich. Pray that we find housing. How different from traveling with Mom and Dad! We're having a blast, though. I'll be sad when they have to leave. The Swiss have three official languages, and I'm not sure how to say Bye in any of them. Till next time...

Lauterbrunnen

The little jaunt down to Interlaken was a warm up for yesterday's hike up to Wengen. The only breaks in the uphill climb were the ones where we stood slanted and paused for a look at the scenery. I found out I am not in such great shape.

Two hiking girls

We made lunch, maybe the best sandwiches ever, near a church with a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. I think we were at an altitude of about 4,000 feet at this point. We took a little siesta, hung out, and then walked back into town.

Beatiful view: the brownish blob near the center by the waterfall is Lauterbrunnen. We hiked up from there.

Mmm...sandwiches. Note the fresh avocado.

Love photos with the timer. R.O.B. is the guy with the thumbs.

Here we were trying to jump at the right time. Only Vu was successful.

The town is really cute and slightly larger than Lauterbrunnen. Rob stopped in a pub for some fish of fish and chips and we all ate a little of it. We wanted to board a train up to Jungfraujoch, "the Top of Europe." But it cost 145 Swiss francs, so we decided to continue our free hike instead.

We love the Hammonds

Wanderweg = hiking path

I'm glad we did. We found this beautiful little hillside where we sat and played cards with a great view. Paragliders kept swirling near us. We played Indian poker with punishments for the losers. We all narrowly missed having to exchange pants (Casey's crazy idea) by guessing our correct order. It was our first time to all guess correctly.

Punishment example: you have to play the next round with grass stuck in your teeth

We walked back and picked up groceries at the CoOp. Casey and I made salad for dinner, and Rob made a brie thing. So far, Rob wins the culinary award for the trip. We played Yahtzee the rest of the night and ended up getting shushed by the hostel owner when we got a couple of Yahtzees and Casey went crazy. We headed up to the mountains the next morning...to be continued.

Swissland

Here are a couple of pictures from yesterday: me arriving really late and the sweaty train, and new friends, Alex and Katrina.

Things have worked out very well. I met Adam, Casey and Nick Vu at the train station yesterday. It was a relief to see them. We basically immediately boarded a train to Milan, heading to Switzerland. On the train we met some nice older people who hadn't been able to book first class tickets. We ate some incredible pizza in Milan and then boarded the train to Interlaken.

We had to change trains in Speitz. We were playing cards on the train, though. Nick and I taught Adam and Casey hearts, and then we were playing a loud and funny game of BS. Adam happened to look at his watch, and realized we were already supposed to be at Speitz. We were afraid we had missed it. Then we noticed we were slowing down. Casey looked at the ladies who were sitting next to us and asked, "Speitz?" like "Sp-eye-tz?" The older lady shook her head; she and her friend had been speaking German. Casey said it again, "Speitz?" and kind of motioned, is this coming up? The ladies looked at one another, then a light bulb came on: "Shhpitzsz!" Yes, she said, this is is. "Brr..." she said, and rubbed her arms. Oh boy. Casey was wearing a tank top.

It was dang cold outside, and we quickly realized this was just the beginning. We made it to Interlaken, and then caught the little train just in time up the mountain to Lauderbrunnen. Rob Larkin met us outside the train 9:40pm. He supplied us with some chocolate, which was a treat. He pointed out the first of many waterfalls we'd see in the area. We went back with him to Valley Hostel, got our sheets and duvet covers, and headed to bed.

The hostel is pretty nice. It's a mixed dorm room with bunk beds. Having been looking forward to getting out from rooming with my snoring mom, I of course end up next to the loudest snorer ever. He was one of those guys who snores in and gasps out like Darth Vader: "Coh." He rolled over and I though, yes, sweet relief. But the snoring only got louder.

It was a sweet bed, though, and I had a great night's sleep. We woke up, ate some breakfast, and went to look for warm clothes. I didn't have much with me that could stand getting wet, and it drizzled all day. I bought a fleece and a beanie. I may need another pair of pants, but hopefully not.

We hiked down to Interlaken today. Even though it was mostly downhill, it was a long walk. We walked 2 and a half hours along the river, enjoying the views. Surrounded on both sides by mountains, the sky misting rain, everything green, I felt fresh and alive. We passed cows with their famous bells. We ate at a tea room in Matten, because when we finally hit this little town before Interlaken it was 2:30 and we were tired and hungry. I had the kids' weinerschnitzel and fries. Very yummy.


We walked down the rest of the way into Interlaken, stopped in a few shops (chocolate!). We got some groceries and took the train back up to Lauderbrunnen. Casey and I took showers while the boys made dinner. It was sort of a strange hodge-podge pasta dish, but it was tasty. Rob made fresh guacamole, and that was dang good. Tomorrow I think we're going to head up the mountain, which may be a little crazy. It will be cold, at least.

A Day to Endure

No pictures, just a quick update. Yesterday was the craziest day ever. I woke up early at 6am, caught the 6:30 shuttle to the train station, said bye to Mom and Dad. Mom was teary, as usual.

I arrived in Rome without problem. I bought the ticket at the Fiumicino station because I was dumb and did not notice that my Eurail was first class (enabling me to get on basically any train). What a waste of money. Then I got to the Roma Termini station, where everything was a madhouse. There were people everywhere, trains waiting at the platforms, red times next to all the trains. Everything was delayed, including my 8:50 train to Venice. Great, I thought, how will I meet Adam and Casey?

I waited for about 4 and a half hours, just seeing my train get further delayed, each time without a platform listed. Then I looked up around 11:30 and saw the tiles for my train were spinning. Yes! Time to go! They all went black instead. My train literally disappeared. There was tons of confusion, as all these people with 8:50 train tickets flooded the information desk. I managed to get on the 11:30 train to Venice, which did not leave the station until 1:20 pm (about 15 minutes before I was supposed to meet the Hammonds).

I was on a hot car with all these Italian people who were shouting and banging on the windows for them to turn the air on. I have learned while here that the less you move and the less you think about being hot, the more manageable it is. So I just sat there quietly, waiting for it to pass. A grandpa sat next to me with a large nose, kind face, and hairy arms. Across from me sat a man who belonged in the original Italian mafia, dressed in a button down black shirt with thin stripes, tanned, bald with a ring of white hair, drawn lips, and square sunglasses. He even had the whispery voice when he answered his cell phone.

The train kept stopping in cities and even in tunnels. I can not tell you how many stupid tunnels we stopped in! It was in one of these tunnels that I realized that I was not on the express train I had paid to reserve, but was rather on a slow train. The trip took 7 hours.

Upon arriving at the train station, I did not see Adam and Casey. This was not that surprising, as I was there a full 7 hours after I had planned. I waited for about an hour, and then saw an American couple. I had been praying, Lord you are in control of everything; show me what you desire, give me a way. I walked up to this couple and asked them if they knew about the campgrounds, where I knew the Hammonds were staying. Unfortunately there were 3 campgrounds, and I did not know which. They were from Florida, the first Floridians I had met. I ended up getting a hotel room with them. We had a lot of fun, actually.

The cool God confirmations kept coming through the night. After I came back from the bathroom in my PJs (standard European wear for me: my faded blue Denver Broncos shirt that I do not even know how I own and capri pj pants), Alex, the guy, went "What is that shirt?" He glanced over at Katrina, who was wearing a nearly identical shirt. Both shirts are faded, hole-ridden, and neither of us are Broncos fans. But they are our favorites, so we love wearing them. Then later, I find out that Alex went to Orange Park, and he knows the Cassidys (including Casey) and was really good friends with Kelly.

Things are working out. I am meeting the Hammonds at the station in 30 minutes, and then we will hopefully manage to keep tabs on each other from there. I have gotten a taste of Europe on my own though, and it is crazy. I will keep you all posted when I can.

Mom and Dad's Last Day

So last night something crazy happened. We were waiting for the lift, and an old Italian lady tumbled down the stairs in front of us. There was a rumble, and I looked up in time to see a flying ball of black crash in to the wall. Lucky the wall was there, actually. There was some yelling, and the poor lady sat up with the most dazed expression on her face. Had it been a cartoon, stars would have circled her head. Everybody made sure she was okay, and then we tried to stop watching. The elevator arrived and we got on and started laughing. I know, it was terrible.

This morning we got up, ate breakfast, and left Amalfi. It was sad, driving away. Our sweet mid-sized Beamer was full to the brim with the three of us, four suitcases, and two backpacks. Our ride to Rome was far more successful than our first try. Check out the road signs, and see if you wouldn't get a little confused. We were headed to Sorrento.

We stopped in Sorrento for lunch. Most things were closed, as it was Sunday and still a little early. We found an open bar/patisserie that offered sandwiches. We should have suspected it when they came in plastic containers. This was by far the worst lunch we have had on the trip. Dad's prosciutto and cheese sandwich was missing the ham and had tomatoes instead. Mom's bread was wet. I had a pile of napkins taller than my sandwich, trying to wipe the mayonaise off. The waiter guy came and looked shocked: "No? Butter?" Ewww.

Dad got nervous when we left the car in a garage. Would we be able to get it out? Even as I tell him I'm writing this, he justifies--"I saw no place to pay! It was Sunday..." Oh boy. The automated machine was in the next parking spot over, and we--hooray!--left the garage without problem. We stopped again in Sorrento when Mom's eagle eyes spotted a open laundromat. Clean clothes! Thank you, Lord, I smell good again. I'm ready for round 2. To make sure everything got clean, I wore Mom's sweet polka dot dress.

We had a good time recapping the trip today. We've really enjoyed ourselves. This has been a huge adventure for us. We've not done many sightseeing vacations prior to this, so we had a learning curve. Dad has found things to be stressed about along the way (tonight's is whether or not they're for sure booked on the flight out of Rome tomorrow). Still, he says he's glad my mom "brought him." He's actually a great traveler; the language barrier has just been killer. Wish them Happy Anniversary tomorrow (June 25)--it's their 30th. I love and appreciate them a ton, and I'm sad to see them leave. The posts from here on may be a little shorter since I'll be paying for time at internet cafes. I'll keep you updated, though. Keep emailing and posting your comments--it's great to hear from you.

Here are a few fun pictures that didn't make the cut before:

Eating tartuffe aka "Death by Chocolate" in Rome

They know you're from out of town, so signs here are very expressive

Taylors are number 1--this time, at cards

Amalfi and Ravello

Our hotel is located about midway down the Amalfi Coast in a little town called Praiano. Yesterday we went west to Positano, today east to Amalfi and its neighbor, Ravello. On the SITA bus ride over, I got out my camera to eat up the views. It wouldn't turn on. I had left out the dumb SD card. My first thought was ridiculous but you'd have it too: well this is going to be pointless if I can't get any pictures. Now really that is just stupid. People traveled for a long time without cameras, recording memories in diaries and drawings. But I just bought a new SD card at the Tabacchi shop.

We walked down away from the square to the harbour to find a taxi/tour to the Emerald Grotto. After signing up for a 12:30 pm boat, we had about 45 minutes to kill. Mom found a pair of pants. I found a lovely paper store. Amalfi is well known for its paper-making industry, which has been nearly forgotten in favor of tourism. But they still make and sell some beautiful things. Anyone who knows me should know I'm a sucker for the school supply aisle.

We made it back to the harbour and caught the boat to the Grotto Smerelda, aka Take My Money at a Cave. We expected Pirates of the Caribbean. We got about a 50 ft. diameter cave. The water did look beautiful, though. A natural undersea tunnel somehow shuttles light in from below. The oarsman/tour guide made a big deal of the miracle of emeralds that happened when he splashed his paddle in the water. Something strange: a television donated a manger scene, which the cave people sunk down into the water and spotlighted. Mom said she thought they were drowning Baby Jesus.

The tour neatly dumped us ashore just in time to catch the SITA bus to Ravello. Amalfi is touristy. Ravello has earthy beauty. It is crowned by two villas. I don't think either is occupied now, and one has very lavish gardens. It's what you think of when you picture Italian villas in movies. Ravello is well-known for a concert series it has throughout the summer at Villa Rufulo. Every night is something different, from dance to orchestra and performance. We could have caught a piano concert that night but, feeling tired, we headed back down the hill.

On the SITA bus

Villa Rufolo

Vineyard

Terrace of Infinity, Villa Cimbrone

In addition to beautiful villas, we went into a smaller church. I walked with Mom and then had to walk back outside to get Dad to come and see. At the front alter a glass case was there, looking like a casket with the side open. I'm pretty sure there was a life-sized statue of Jesus in there. Weird--don't they know He rose from the dead? If I hadn't felt strangely sacriligeous doing it, I'd have taken a picture. Near the doors I did get a picture of this guy, who I can only guess is John the Baptist. All I know is it's by far the ugliest sculpture I've ever seen in a church.

Rick Steves was right, Amalfi gets less touristy the higher you go from the city center. After poking in and out of shops, we found ourselves in what felt like a pretty residential area. We ate a light dinner, and then walked to the square to catch the bus home. On the way, we saw two things of grand proportions:

It's been a great stay here at the coast. We'll drive back to Rome tomorrow. We were going to stop off in Pompeii on the way. Mom's ankle has been hurting still though, and it seemed like too much walking. Hopefully after tomorrow I will again have clean clothes. I'm starting to smell European even after showering.

Positano

What a day! This place really is magnificent, and for the first time in the trip it feels like vacation. We woke up this morning and had breakfast on the terrace. We could see Positano in the distance, a little preview to the day. An older woman was having breakfast alone near us. She'd had dinner by herself last night, and was talking with a British woman about her friend: "She doesn't like to get up early. She sleeps till 11, maybe 12 o'clock. But look at this!" she said, gesturing out to the bay. I can't imagine being on a trip with someone on such a different schedule. Then again, Ryan and Brianne can probably imagine--they went to Europe with me!

We finished breakfast and waited on the orange bus to Positano. The trains run on time. The buses here on the coast do not. The orange bus arrived finally when the SITA bus was scheduled, so we thought what the heck, it's here. We packed on like sardines and thought we caught a deal from the bus driver. He only charged us one Euro per ticket, instead of two. Turns out we just misheard him the first time.

I took a little video of a bus ride here on the coast. I'll have to try and figure out if there's a way to show it to you all. Leave a comment if you know. Basically it's break-neck: the roads are tiny, the curves sharp, and traffic goes both ways on a road wide enough for one. The bus drivers are artists, gracefully sweeping their large rear ends along. Two little honks around a curve warn the other direction, come at risk of death. Did I mention there's basically a 500 foot drop into the sea on one side?

The views are worth it, though. I've never seen anything like it. The closest I've come is a ride out on the California coast line with Brianne, Jackie and Brodie on Highway 1. Maui also comes to mind. This is different in that you swing around the bend and a house is impossibly situated on the cliff. Not only that, it has a garden.

Views from the bus:

We reached Positano and got off at the Sponda stop. On the full bus, a couple from Tennessee we'd met outside our hotel keep yelling, "Spawn-duh?!" each time the bus paused. Finally, they got the go ahead, and we followed. Not having a clue where we were, we walked down to the next bus stop. Stupid Americanos.

The streets of Positano are closed to auto traffic. Carved into the mountainside, most of the "streets" are actually staircases. Don't be fooled when you look at a map and see a road named Via Something. You're going uphill or downhill, and one way may have far fewer exits. We worked our way down slowly, pausing in expensive shops. The clothes reminded me of what gypsies would wear at the beach--light, flowing, with lots of strange ruffles, beads, and sequins. Other things looked granola but cost a fortune.

On the way down to the beach, we hit the little Piazza with the town church. There was a wedding getting started. Mom and Dad sat down on the steps while I ran down to the tourist information office to get a map. When I came back up, the bride came down. They got her ready outside the church. Mom kept saying stuff like, "They're not doing her veil right. They don't know what they're doing. They need to straighten it along her dress." (From this you should guess that mine and my sister's weddings will be perfect.) A lady walked up the stairs saying, "Just what you want--to get married in front of a bunch of tourists." Her comment was perfectly punctuated: when the bride went into the church, the people outside clapped and then followed her in, snapping pictures. One girl had on a pair of shorts that said "Tweetie" on the rear end--very classy.

We made it down to the beach and decided to spend the extra money for the private beach and its chairs and umbrellas. We met a nice guy and his father. The son gave us a deal. Apparently, it was because we were from Florida. The black rocky sand was hotter than Hades but the water was cool and clear. It was a relief in the hot sun, and the shade from the umbrella was lovely. We took a dip and then lay down to sautee. The beach was very European, but not topless. Dad kept making jokes: "Hey Ann, I'm thinking I should get me a bathing suit like that," and pointing to the guy in the skimpy green Speedo shorts. You saw that picture of him at the pool; you know he'd look good.

After lunch nearby and another round of the beach, we were ready to head back. We wanted to go another way back to the bus. This was maybe not such a good idea. We found one of the Vias I mentioned before--

We took another lurching orange bus home and then had dinner down the street. The best thing about it was the view. Mom's fried shrimp were still in their shells (equals boiled shrimp?), and Dad had the largest "shrimp" he'd ever seen atop his risotto. I think it was a really small breed of lobster.

When we got back we hung out on the terrace of our hotel and I got a taste of Praiano local life. One of our waiters, Giovanni asked if I wanted to walk across the street with him. Actually it went like this: I was sitting with my parents. He walked up and said, "Can I ask question?" then looked at my dad and said, "Not you, her." We all started laughing. I ended up saying, "Sure," and then wondering if it was really me that answered. Later he said, "I never had someone say to me, 'Oh, boy'." I guess I'm not a girl easily swayed by Italian romantic efforts.