Right outside my hostel |
Casually browsing after breakfast, I began to question this philosophy as my plans to ferry over to Rovinj, Croatia started falling through. Not only were all the ferries booked, but so were most decent hostels on a Saturday night. I started looking at Pula, another Croatian port, as a backup, but found trouble coordinating that as well. Stress hit. Screw Spontaneity =/ Why didn’t I plan this better?? I mentally banged my head against a wall.
Just as I was about to book a last resort train ticket to Trieste that would eventually get me to Pula, Marco, the hostel desk-worker, laughed at me as he flipped around his laptop with Istria’s forecast for the week.
Stormy
Stormy
Rainy
Stormy...
Ohh no. Nope, I was not going to trek down the Adriatic Coast with that weather. If I’d wanted to swim, hike and mountain bike in the rain I would have vacationed at home.
Saved by spontaneity—sorry for doubting.
I then started looking for sun.
Budapest…Cairo…Sicily…Athens.
Going by my global hit list, Athens won out. So I booked a flight early
this afternoon. I leave Venice tomorrow morning, head to Milan by train, and
catch a flight to Athens in the evening.
I’ve been talking about Croatia for months now and I’m
bummed it’s not happening tomorrow, but I mean…it’s Greece.
Maybe later, Croatia? |
And when you’re faced between the two...
Places in Croatia I wanted to visit |
It's not really a tough call.
I’ve had such an amazing time in Venice; the city really is unreal. I went to Lido yesterday and the weather was perfect.
This is the prison part of the palace. I thought it was ironic. |
Yeah, that happened.
I wandered inside trying to figure out what this big building was and it turned into that awkward moment you end up in a moving ticket line facing an outstretched hand and “16 euro, please,” before you can even turn around. I honestly didn’t know what I was walking into even as I stared at my ticket going through the entrance. I found out later (actually just now because I was still trying to figure out what this palace was called) that the ticket was good for four museums. That makes me feel better that I paid so much for the ticket then, but also maybe worse ‘cause I didn’t go to any of them. It wouldn’t have mattered since I was museumed out after this place—Palazzo Ducale, by the way; google it cause I still couldn’t tell you.
Seriously, though, google it and see how massive it is: three levels of oh-my-gee-I-just-want-the-exit.
I was there for a solid few hours, but I did get some good pictures out of it.
Other than that, my stay has been pleasant. Coffee in the
mornings, alleyway roaming, people watching, supermarket stops, tossing
grapes on the way home, fresh pizzas by the slice, cobblestone runs, and evening drinks on balmy nights. I’ve
loved it.
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On an added note, Marco put me in charge of the hostel tonight
cause he wanted to leave early. Really, being “in charge” just meant I had to
sit out in the lobby and wait for new guests to give them their key and show
them their room. It also meant I stayed out here to write this blog, and when
two guys from Holland returned from drinking, it made for some entertaining
conversation that I had to mention:
(Just imagine two intoxicated guys with their Dutch
accents…)
Guy 1: Where are you from?
Me: Oregon
Guy 1: Oh, like the cookie.
Me: …No?
Guy 2: That’s Oreo.
Guy1: Oreo (long pause) Oregon.
Guy 2: Hey, that rhymes.
Guy 1: See?
Annnyway, Athens tomorrow :) Goodnight.
:) :) :)
ReplyDeletexoxoxoxo
Oreo Oregon... glad to know we are globally known for something.
ReplyDeleteHave fun!