Into The Alps

After spending three days in the stifling hot Italy, we ventured on wards into the Alps. Specifically, we landed in Lucerne, Switzerland. This landlocked country actually lies outside of the European Union, their currency being Swiss Francs. They have four official languages, and most locals speak at least three or four languages. These languages are Italian, French, German, and Romansh. English is thrown in the mix there somewhere, and the Locale are always very fortunate to be able to practice their foreign language skills. If there's any one place I want to go back to and dedicate more time to in the future, it is definitely Switzerland.

A view from the bus of Lucerne.

Unabashed and unaware, I was told to put on Long clothing before getting on the bus for Switzerland. I was uncertain as to why they told me this, as it was about 38 degrees Celsius when we got on the bus and Italy. It made sense to me exactly why once we stepped off the bus in Lucerne outside the Swiss Alps, and the temperature was about 2 degrees Celsius. I really wish I had brought gloves at this part of the trip. It was intensely cold. No doubt it was worth it, but surprisingly cold. Granted, where you at were also at a rest stop at the bottom of the Swiss Alps, where temperature is always markedly different from the rest of the country.

As we took the trolley to the top of Mount Pilatus, the tallest alp, I noticed some pain in my left side. I knew that my appendix was not over there, but it was still very worrying. Needless to say, one of our band moms (who was acting as the nurse for the trip) packed some ibuprofen, and she hooked me up. Some fresh Mountain Air from the Alps, some good hiking and cold weather, and a half hour wait, and the pain subsided and I was good to go.

The Mountain we would summit.

To this day, Mount Pilatus has to be my favorite location I've ever taken a Facebook profile picture at, which I have shown here, and it also has to be part of my favorite country I've ever visited. Although we only spent a day and a half in Lucerne, it was probably my favorite part of the visit. The people we met at the tourist stop alone were so friendly and hospitable that it really made up for the stoic attitudes of Italy. I went to the gift shop on top of the mountain after exploring the caves nearby, deciding to buy a Swatch while in Switzerland. All of them were at least $100, except for one that was about 20 and replicable at Walmart for probably $5. I talked to the lady, who did not know the word for credit card, and she called it plastic money. We both started laughing because we knew this was the incorrect term, but it still worked. She was talking to me about where I was from, why I've come to Italy and Switzerland, and what I thought of her country so far. I returned the favor to her, and she was just so happy to see an American take the time out of their day to chat with her.

My most favorite profile picture of all time: On top of Pilatus.

We visited the historical bridge in the center of Lucerne next, the one that burned down in the 60s and was rebuilt. The memorial plaques told stories worth a thousand words, although the descriptions were in every language except for English. At this point in time, my language skills were developed just enough that I could figure out most of what they were telling me in German, just for context clues. I would utilize this skill for the rest of my life. It also helped when communicating with locals who didn't speak much English, as I clearly didn't speak much of their languages either.

After touring the quaint town of Lucerne, some of the historical sites including their big Fountain and their Jelly Bean roof houses, we went to a fondue restaurant. Just like the locals by the church who operated small farming stalls, or the people we passed on the street getting on to the completely renewable-energy-based Electric tramline, the people in the restaurant who served us we're beautiful human beings inside and out. They really wanted us to feel at home and comfortable, and went out of their way to do so. One lady on the street waved me over to her stand to talk, browse her wares, and gave me free samples without thinking twice.

Nowhere in America can I find attitudes even vaguely similar to the ones of Switzerland. They are truly unique kind of people. After we sat down for dinner, we were entertained by singing Viking ladies, a quartet playing songs on alphorns, and a yodeling and chugging contest, of which I was invited along to. They asked for anybody who knew how to sing in the crowd, and the people at my table heard me murmur that I could sing and raise my hand for me. So naturally, as with the four other Americans there, I was taught how to yodel from a proper Swiss alp yodeler. Directly after simultaneously yodeling well and embarrassing myself, came the chugging contest. They gave us beer, which would be legal at the age of 16, but because it was a school affiliated trip, I had to take the non-alcoholic version of lemonade. There was one guy there that once prompted to start chugging, crushed his entire flagon in maybe two seconds. It was quite an impressive feat. Defeated, I returned to my seat with my lemonade.

Our entertainment for the night!

After a good night's rest and more sightseeing in Lucerne, we packed our bags and headed for the black forest of Germany. Switzerland is a country that I will not soon forget, and one that I long to visit again. Unfortunately, if you like me are considering expatriation, it is extremely hard to get permission to work and live in Switzerland if you are not from the surrounding six countries. You're also required to learn one of the official languages and make an attempt at learning the others. So although moving there might not be in my foreseeable future, I will be visiting sometime soon. With temperatures similar to home, but twice as many rolling mountainsides covered in fog and mist, it really is a landlocked Paradise.

Northern Italy and the Pope

Although Rome was very fascinating, there was still much more to see in Italy. The next part of my Europe trip landed us in the Vatican City, going through their security check process, avoiding the panhandlers and Gypsies, and seeing everything that this beautiful country has to offer. Because of its importance in the world, it is actually considered its own little country, which I find adorable. We didn't have enough time to visit the Sistine Chapel and see the wonderful works of Michelangelo, but we did get to go in and see the ornate Chapel at the Vatican, to see the coffin that contains one of the oldest Pope's, and admire the church organ. The pope himself was not there at the time, unfortunately, but it was still pretty cool to see how security works in a foreign country regarding the most important Catholic location in the world.

After this, we were in Florence, scouting out the house of Michelangelo and finding the house of Leonardo DaVinci. We saw the big chapels, interacted with locals, tried speaking Italian (but got answered by in English), and enjoyed our mandatory serving of gelato. As folklore has it, you are only happy and Italy if you have at least three servings of gelato every day. There were little pop-up kiosks and stands everywhere selling the finest traditional Italian recipes of gelato. In Florence, there were so many different kinds of people, and it was quite a marvel to say the least.

In the mid-afternoon, after some sightseeing, we had some free time to wander around. I saw the old lucky bull in the Town Plaza that my uncle took a picture next to 30 years prior when he was studying nephrology in Italy. I saw Trevi Fountain. And, I saw people who I thought were an unlikely fit. Namely, I met a man speaking perfect Italian, who invited me to sit and talk for a while, and then telling me that he originated from Hartford Connecticut. His business partner, who also helps run the little jewelry stand they owned, was from Salem, Massachusetts. He moved to Italy right after college. Quite inspiring.

After this day, we traveled to Baveno, a district of Italy in the north, near Genova. Much to my surprise, there is a huge population of Spanish people here. And one point in time, I actually acted as a translator for the group, being one of maybe three people that spoke Spanish in my tour group. A lady didn't speak any English and was asking us when are concert started, and I was able to help her out. Exuberant, she kissed me on the cheek gave me a hug and promised to be back later. The rest of the kids looked at me with mouths agape, impressed at my prowess with foreign language.

The climate in Baveno was mild compared to Florence and Rome, but still rather hot. Influences from other part of Europe were starting to become noticeable and prominent, something I didn’t realize until I was in other places later. The people were also nicer to tourists there, as I met some resistance from the locals in the south. Since Baveno is an area that isn't often heavily populated by tourists, almost everyone was happy to see us. This was also the location of our second performance.

In this part of our journey, it became apparent that music really is the universal language. There were many people in the crowd that only spoke Italian or Spanish, but everybody had the same amount of enjoyment out of our “John Philip Sousa March”, or “Air for Band”, or “West Side Story” compilation, and our percussion solo that featured buckets. Specifically, gardening buckets. It was also two shows in and we already had people breaking their first buckets. They just don't make them the same as they do in America. More to come on that later.

If there's any part of Italy I would encourage people to visit, the culture and history of Northern Italy is so profound and rich. If I ever went back to Italy, I would be visiting there. However, I would still be encouraging anyone who goes not to drive, as Italians tend to just put their car wherever they feel like it on the road and try not to hit things occasionally. Regardless of this, Italy is very quaint and cute, and worth a visit for anyone.

Buongiorno, Italia!

When I was a Junior in high school, I was invited to go on a trip to Europe with youth music abroad. At this point in time, I was balancing trying to figure out College, lots of extracurricular activities, honors choir, finishing my Eagle Scout project, finishing my graduation project, and just right out not having money, so I wasn't sure how I was going to accomplish this feat. We were able to get discounted price due to our financial situation, from the original price of five and a half thousand dollars, but it still seemed like so much.

Somehow in some way, however, my angel on Earth and shining star, my mother, pulled together the funds, and in the third week of June, 2012, I was on my way to the international airport in DC with a full suitcase of toss away clothes and a carry-on full of odds and ends, and shortly after the packing process, I was sprinting to our plane, a Boeing 747. Here, I would sit for the next 8 hours watching The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and some movie with Jim Carrey in it. Before long, we landed in Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, France.

My first glimpse of European airplane food

Now, at this point in the journey, remember that I am with a night owl and a shut-in, with no real language experience other than 4 years of Spanish. But before I knew it, I was in France, at 6:40 in the morning, waiting for an air taxi to take us to the beautiful city of Rome. I knew about five words of Italian, did not have proper Italian attire at all, and was notably culture shocked as soon as I touched down in Rome.

This was my first time being in a foreign country, and how interesting it was. To see the speed limit signs in kilometers, the traffic lights on the side of the road instead of above the road, seeing every sign in Italian instead of English, seeing the lackluster driving skills of the Italian populist, and of course, seeing the locals dressed up in long dark clothing even though it was 40 degrees celsius outside. I can deal with the 24 hour clock format, but I definitely came across as American when I stepped out of the bus in shorts and immediately proceeded to buy a 2 liter bottle of water.

As jetlagged as we were, we were instructed to stay awake or else we would feel worse the next day. No napping allowed. We went to a private beach and swam in the Mediterranean Sea, where I spoke Spanish and broken Italian to some locals. I got my first Italian lesson from a store owner, who was very happy to see a tourist attempting to speak the local language. We enjoyed the waters and the hot Sands for several hours, before stopping in Rome to see the Colosseum and a few huge churches. This would be the first of many crazy and notable experiences on this day.

Hanging out with the locals! (Once upon a time, I had a goatee.)

At night, the hotel hosts put on a huge buffet for us, happy to see so many people occupying their space. They gave us discounts on everything, served us some of the best buffet food I've ever had, came by the tables and talked to all of us, and made our first night one to remember. Dinner was also later, as the culture in Italy is to have dinner later at night. We had dinner around 2100, and then played a few simple games as a tour group together before departing to our rooms and getting the best night's sleep most of us have ever seen.

Sunshine Land

The first time I went to Florida was lackluster. It was also the first time I was ever on a plane by myself and in the airport 11, at the age of 14. Let me break that down for you real quick.

It was the summer of going into high school, and also the summer of my first heartbreak. As I was recovering from that, I was to go down to Florida and spend some time with my rambunctious going into high school, and also the summer of my first heartbreak. As I was recovering from that, I was to go down to Florida and spend some time with my rambunctious 6 year old cousin. When we got down there and got situated at the hotel, we went to visit my aunt who lives 10 minutes outside of Universal Studios. I loved spending time with her, but still, being away from my parents and being with a crazy unkempt six-year-old really harsh my mellow. I had serious separation anxiety and “Mommy boy” syndrome up until I was about 15. So two days in, after sweating to death at SeaWorld, I decided it was time to go home and be with my parents and my computer in my artificially chilled air. Although this trip was unsuccessful, I knew the next time I went my mother would be coming along. And that's exactly what happened.

About half a year after my father passed, my mom used the little savings we had to take her and my aunt and myself down to Orlando to stay with my aunt for a week and a half. My mom wanted to sit back and relax and hang out with the family, and considering as to how I have five or six cousins that still live in Orlando, that's exactly what we did. However, for my Wanderlust-ed aunt and myself, this wasn't enough for us. She and I found ourselves running around to wherever was physically and financially possible. Our expeditions let us all over Florida, including a trip to Key West and to Universal Studios, where I ended up putting the park on lockdown. I have to explain that one and further detail.

When we got to Universal Studios, we immediately headed for the new Harry Potter World. My mother held onto my cell phone as I rode their dueling dragons’ roller coaster, as I did not want it to fall out of my pocket on the ride. She sat on a bench and waited for me, but when I got off of the roller coaster, the crowds were so thick that I couldn't see her anywhere. I wandered around trying to find her, before eventually talking to one of the security staff who were conveniently dressed as Hogwarts prefects. I told one of them that I had misplaced my mother, and since I was 16, they immediately panicked and put the park on lockdown until they had a security came with his phone that can call out of state. I made a phone call to my mom, and we were reunited in overtime, but not before creating a big scene. I knew that if all else failed, I would go out to my aunt in the parking lot, and if I couldn't find her, I would walk home, as it wasn't that far. So after our reunion, we walked around the park, saw some things, drank some butter beer, and called it a day.

Somewhere in Boca Raton...

My cousin John took me to a concert at Hard Rock Live later that week at Universal Studios, and we saw Hellyeah. It ended up being my first really heavy concert, and even though the tickets were purchased on the way home, it only cost like 20 bucks per person. It was a dirt cheap way to have fun. We also went out to eat with family and had a small party to celebrate our coming to Florida. At the end of the trip, we went to Key West for the first time.

Halfway between here and Key West, we met up with a friend I had met online who had lived in Boca Raton. She was three years older than me, and we connected online via a Pink Floyd music video’s comment section on YouTube. This was back when YouTube users could still direct message one another, and as it turns out, it would lead to a lifelong friendship. Though my mother was leery of having me meet someone who very well could have been a catfish, I put her on speaker to prove that she was real, and then, we met up for two hours at a local mall. There is hope for online dating and friendships after all!

Key West at Sunset.

The first time I went to Key West, I sat in the back of a car for 8 hours playing Pokémon and waiting to arrive. We drove straight down from Orlando, stopping at a hotel in Miami at night to recharge our batteries after a long day. I got to see the sunset disappear into Mallory Square, visit Duval Street, see Ernest Hemingway's house and resting place, enjoy key lime pie in the Florida Keys, eat some of the local food, go snorkeling and meet a cute local girl, and take a picture next to the southernmost point in the United States. All in all, it was a very successful trip to one of the most expensive areas in the United States. Even if I don’t bode well with warm weather, I’ll be back one day for a hike or two.

Learning to Fly

So, remember how in a previous blog post I mentioned that my parents had two honeymoons? And that one of them was to St. Thomas? Well, little did I know, but my father had been saving a lot of money in secrecy for the past 12 years after that date. He wanted to go back to the Caribbean more than anything, and started to my mother. I, on the other hand, was an awkward 13 year old shut-in who didn't care much about anything at all. So I was pretty cool with whatever happened. In fact, up until I was 15 or so, I actually used to be so bad with travel that my parents were afraid to send me more than 20 minutes away from the house.

But in April of 2007, I learned how to fly. More importantly, I got my first taste of the lovely headache that can be airport security. Otherwise, I was acutely unaware of the world around me. Just how massive it is, just how incredible it is to be on a plane knowing that you're going somewhere new. Until one day, I was sitting on my first plane ride ever to North Carolina and then onwards to St Thomas in the United States Virgin Islands.

A few of many great photos taken in St. Thomas.

I remember getting up around 5 in the morning, white early than I am used to, as our plane was to depart around 9 from BWI airport in Baltimore. We got our suitcases packed, organized a loose schedule for the trip, and headed for the plane. At this stage of my life, I was battling an issue with depression, as I didn't fit in with any of my classmates back then. I was the nerdy outcasts looking for an escape, and I figured that this could very well be a wonderful Escape.

I put a Pink Floyd mix CD on my Casio CD player as the plane hit the runway, remembering to listen 1st to learning to fly off of a momentary lapse of reason. That song inspired me more than words could compare, filling me with an eternal sense of bliss every time I listen to the song to this day. Are playing taxi Off The Runway, speeds incomprehensible to any human on land, and bellowed towards this guy. I was really Learning to Fly. I was learning how free it meant to be when you are in a metal chassis several thousand miles off the grounds, departing at speeds unknown for something unknown. What a great gift, what a wonderful mystery and an exuberating feeling!

Although mostly independent, the US Virgin Islands have been part of United States for several decades. What is most interesting about them is that they drive on the left side of the road, but they drive standard American cars which are meant for right side driving. Lots of left-turn accidents have happened in the past, but anybody on St. Thomas takes a traffic accident with a serious grain of salt. Fortunately, we were not victims of any accident.

As far as weather goes, it was pretty mild all over the island. When it rains however, it would literally rain on one side of the street but not the other. We went on a submarine tour our first day, experiencing the wildlife underneath the sea in St Thomas. We stayed at Sapphire Beach, a nice Oceanside Resort, and spent a lot of time going to the bar for drinks, and for me a virgin daiquiri or martini, practicing for snorkeling, actually going snorkeling and seeing cool but scary stuff, swimming, or just in general hanging out. There were a lot of very cute Beach bods as well from what I remember.

Since the trip was literally a decade ago from the time of writing this, I only remember bits and pieces of what all transpired. I remember going snorkeling on a snorkeling tour and seeing a barracuda, as well as parasailing for the first time in my entire life. What a freaky feeling to be up in the air attached to a rope following a small little boat. I also remember playing steel drum at a local restaurant called the Agave Terrace, wishing that the street Carnival hadn't finished up the week before we got there, and going to the Skylift that crests a scenic view of the island. I also got to experience my first time (and hardcore blushing all around) as well as facilitate dialogue with the female kind for the first actual time in my life, regardless of their inhibitory status.

I also went parasailing!

As you can plainly here and imagine, there was a lot to see and do on this trip. There were plenty of geographical sites to be found, plenty of Memoirs, dedications, statues, and memorials, a lot of restaurants, and a lot of expensive food. There was a local who made a trophy for us out of coconut (which we let him keep because of customs). My dad got the message because he wanted to sit and talk with the guy as he works, and get to understand a bit about his life and culture. All in all, despite geographical location, life in St Thomas isn't too entirely different from life in the states. Although the entire population is right around as tiny as York is now, they're still quite mighty.