Mamma Mia! I’m in Italia!

People, people, people. It’s hard to believe isn’t it? I’ve hit another European superpower… and lived to tell about it. :] But first…

…here’s your opportunity for two things. ;]

1. Let out all the anger I may have caused you in delaying this post for such a lengthy amount of time.
2. Get over it and read this to the end, enjoying all the lovely photos I’ve uploaded specifically for your enjoyment. :] mmk?

Anyway, the last time I left you wondering about my adventures in Italy, I’d just finished speaking about London, Albania and Croatia. Finally I’ve gotten around to the big one, so enjoy the photos below!

Arriving in Bari on Italy’s Eastern coast, we had our first overnight in an odd little hostel (thankfully with air conditioning) and the next morning picked up our hire car (a sexy Ford Fiesta) and drove west, just as the Village People first suggested in 1979. We were headed to Sorrento, on the furthermost tip of the Sorrentine Peninsula. One problem though, we had to drive across the country in a day (literally) and the last strip would turn out to be the worst… four hours along the infamous Amalfi coast; beautiful but deadly… for driving. The entire journey as we weaved along the narrow cliffside road, dodging buses and other cars by centimetres, with mopeds ducking in and out of the traffic at top speeds, I was scared. In fact, I remember saying something along the lines of “I’m frightened for my life”, whilst clenching the front seat with all my might.

Thankfully we made it there, and I was rather impressed with Sorrento, particularly after having seen so much of it on account of our non-functioning GPS not being able to get us to the camping ground we’d call home for the next three nights. By night, the camping ground would come alive, filled with Italians traveling from far and wide, as well as numerous German, Spanish and Australian tourists, all flocking to the bar that was served well with some delightful Karaoke music. Have you ever seen a fifteen-year old Italian sing Karaoke? Don’t. It might ruin your opinion of Italy.

The first day we visited the town that was ruined after nearby Mt. Vesuvius erupted and its gases suffocated the townsfolk. Pompeii was truly fascinating. We saw how the old Roman world functioned, from the collecting of water, to satisfying the sexual appetites of city officials. (There’s a famous brothel, noted for its erotic murals). Being a large city (see map below) with absolutely no shade whatsoever, the 40 degree (celsius) sun certainly had a bite. Sunburn was imminent and no matter how much sunscreen I applied, my skin couldn’t help getting sunburnt. Thanks pastiness, you’ve done it again. When the day was out and we’d done all the wandering our feet could manage, we headed back to the campsite and dined out… again. Italian food, I have to say, is the real deal. :]

Bring on the Balkans.

“Oh look a drug-dealer”… was one of many phrases we threw around whilst in Albania. It joined other brilliant lines such as “that Merc was stolen from Germany”, and “that BMW was stolen from Switzerland…”
My god, I thought, what on earth had our Lonely Planet guide gotten us into now?
After an amazing four days in London, it certainly didn’t turn for the worst when we ended up in the Balkans… but it was by far the biggest eye-opener.

First stop was an overnight in Corfu, Greece, with a view from our hotel, The Pink Palace, that looked a little something like this:

Apart from arriving at 10 o’clock at night, having a street post that blocked our stunning view and being fed sandwiches as a replacement dinner, I had a good night. I met a few lovely gals from Sydney and even discovered an old school friend was working there… small world.

We woke up early the next day and headed for the port where we then set off to infamous Albania by ferry (apparently you can hear gunshots at night from Corfu). This was the sight we saw on arrival:

Looking slightly nicer than one would expect, this coastal city of Saranda was certainly the jewel along Albania’s coastline. Looking like a slightly under-developed French Riviera, the city left an impression I won’t easily forget.

After we got off the ferry, we located our tour bus (that would take us to Dubrovnik) and were informed just how young Albania was… they only got cars in the early 1990′s… and everything there is dirt cheap. Goes to show that their economy is a little out of whack… clearly aren’t aware of inflation.

London’s calling…

It’s been quite a while since I’ve told you how things are going for me. But now I’d like to mention just how good it is on this holiday so far. With many thanks to Lonely Planet‘s hit travel guide Europe on a Shoestring, we’ve made it from London to Corfu in Greece, survived Albania, swum in Montenegro and sailed for a week through Croatia‘s gorgeous island coast.

But, as there is simply way too much to talk about for one post, I think I might start things off with a mention of Sunny London- the place I’d love to live in a few years time (followed in the next post by a brief run-through of what we got up to before hitting Croatia’s beautiful coastline). :]

So, it’s a city and the capital of England with a population of about…. pssh you all know the stats. Onto the juicy stuff :]

Flying in from Munich was just the beginning. Independent from the get go, I was looking forward to London for a bundle of reasons, ranging from it’s culture, world influence and importance, to its people, infamous weather and funny looking phonebooths. Upon arrival, I wasn’t too impressed. Heathrow is a BIG airport… I was in terminal 5 (Sydney only has 3 terminals…). Thus, it was a chaotic rush just figuring out how to locate the train that would connect me to the city itself.

The other thing that came as a worldly shock was the fact that everyone was speaking english… it felt so strange to see it everywhere on signs, posters and all over people’s lips. Clearly i’ve been stuck in a german frame of mind. :p No english what so ever.

Once I eventually found the hostel, I got to share a room with some lovely Swedish girls and we ended up going out together for an evening stroll through Buckingham Palace gardens, Trafalgar Square and a Tesco’s supermarket aisle, and then hitting up a nightclub till four in the morning. (Then we hit up Maccas) :] Then eventually I ended up in bed…. at 5am :p It was a good night…. that’s all to be said.

Above are some photos I took on the very first day in London. It wasn’t till the next day however, that I caught up with my aunt and uncle. 10am in the morning (yes, that works out to be only five hours sleep) I was startled by a knock at the door and I finally saw the faces of my two relatives. So naturally I said hello: “Can you grab me my towel? You were supposed to bring it right?”.