This makes me really sad, today marks the end of our adventure, and the mark of returning home to everyday life. I have been, and I’m sure my family would say the same, been in a fantasy world of fun and adventure, stress and responsibility free. I’ve had the most amazing time here; it’s been surreal just walking through the streets in another country (or time). But like all good things, it must end. And sadly, it ends now. In two hours we will journey to the airport, in four hours we’ll be boarding our plane, and in twenty and a half hours, we’ll be back in Brisbane, ready to get back to the usual routine of school and, well, life. The last two weeks have to me just become this massive blurry blob smushed into one hell of a day (my Big Day Out as Dad calls it). As much as I’m going to miss all of this, I miss my friends more. From talks I’ve had with friends it was limited or non existent, and to be able to converse/see them again will just make my day. Which must sound weird coming from me, I mean, I’m apparently the anti-social being who dwells in the premises of her room, only venturing out for nourishment. But I’m only human, so I’m sure between brooding and eating my brain decided that I should need a social life.
So what am I doing currently on my last day here? Well, writing this entry and watching Postman Pat in Italian. Mil turned it on and Ains insisted that we continue to view. From what I can interpret, this episode is about a genderly confused bull that wrecks havoc on the small town in which Pat lives, so it’s Postman Pat to the rescue!
So this is it, we’ll be off to have breakfast in ten minutes so I have to part with the laptop (shock horror). Seriously, what did you expect? I’m always going to go with food over technology, it’s how I’m programmed. Well, good bye for perhaps the last time in this blog site.

In Summary remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We have travelled in my opinion to many places in the last two weeks, from London, to Paris, to Milano, to Venezia, to Firenze, to Roma, to Napoli, and now finally back to Roma. Here marks the end of our fantastic voyage. We returned to Roma earlier today at around 4:30pm local time, stopped off at the hotel and it was off to the Pantheon we went! My sisters once again did not appreciate the significant of the structure. The fact that it was still standing after two thousand years, the Christians didn’t destroy/leave it to the elements (because they inhabited it), and of course, the shear magnificent of the architecture. I looked, very hard to see where the blocks were put in the dome sector of the roof but to no avail, they were just too good. After some reminiscing over our final gelati we returned to the hotel and an hour later it was off to dinner. Dad had planned for us to have a really nice dinner on our final night, and it was. Although, I nearly fell asleep at the table (exhausted much?).

Roma Part 2 remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Here I am, sitting in my hotel room in Vico Equense watching across the waves tumble onto the rocky shores of the private beach the hotel owns towards Mount Vesuvius. I’m so grateful towards mu dad for the accommodation. It’s just perfect. When we arrived yesterday we went straight to the beach. It was actually really weird because back home in Australia, our beaches consist of white fine sands where as here, the beaches are consistant of rocks which at largest are the size of a fist, and at smallest the size of a pinky fingernail.
Today we took a trip to Pompeii. That’s Ancient Pompeii. It was just surreal to walk through the city. The highlight of our walk through Pompeii was visiting the amphitheatre. I had always wanted to visit the amphitheatre of Pompeii, but my want for doing so was intensified by our inability to go into the Coliseum in Roma. The only thing in which I was disappointed that we didn’t see in Pompeii was the Villa of Mysteries (but that’s because we were all dehydrated and not sure if it was open to the public).
One thing I have noticed though about this place is that the people here are really friendly. I think that’s what for me makes a place – how you are treated. It doesn’t matter what the accomedation is like, it doesn’t matter the distance you have to travel to go places, what matters is that you are treated nicely. Yu treat someone the way you want to be treated. I think because we weren’t treated nicely at all in Paris that is part of the reason why we disliked it. Where as here, apart from it being just perfect in appearance and service, the people don’t turn their noses up at you, they are just generally nice people.
Any who, so the count is in reverse now. Instead of counting how many days we’ve been away, it’s become how long till we leave. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go back to responsibility, I just want to stay in this ‘fantasy’ world where we do nothing but enjoy time. Although I’m feeling a homesick all the same. I miss being able to talk to my friends the most though, I seem to always miss them in chat because of the time difference.

A Room With a View remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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You know, all I wanted to do in Italy was go to the coliseum. All my Dad has wanted to do was take us to the Coliseum since we were children, and the one chance we had to go we couldn’t because the G8 leaders spouses were taking tour. I’m really disappointed. Oh well. I do plan to return here after Year Twelve for a trip, so I shall venture there then. I just feel really bad for Dad though. I inherited my History fetish from him, but he’s about a million times more into the Roman Empire/Roman history than I am. Mum said he was so excited about taking us to the Coliseum that he paid for the most expensive tour of the place. So as the title suggests,
I found the whole situation slightly amusing and as you are aware by now, my sense of humour is very cynical. When something like this happens, I look for the irony behind it, and this one just jumped out at me. One of the issues that the G8 (well, G7) leaders were meeting to discus was about the global economic crisis, and it was just ironic that like say Australia were we rely on tourism to feed our economy, Italy does to. They closed two major tourist attractions in Italy (the Forum directly opposite the Coliseum), so that a few people could tour it. This has resulted in everyone for that day having to be refunded. If you have been to any of these sites before, you’ll know that it’s incredibly expensive, and that an incredible amount of people make the pilgrimage there.
But the day was not entirely filled then with my cynicism and disappointment, we took a tour around Roma to all the old ruins located around the city. And we did go to the Pope’s Crib early in the day. Speaking of which, it kicks 50 Cents ass when it comes to what this bitch has up in his crib. Regardless of whether you went for the religious aspect, the architect value, or even for the art, it’s just a fantastic place to visit. I was absolutely blown away by the Sistine Chapel though. Just the shear size of the paintings all though the hall, it’s just amazing. Sculptural wise, the Pieta was fantastic. Just the amount of detail that went into the body of Jesus, you can even see where his skin distorts where Mary’s hand holds him. Anyway, enough for now. Toodles.

Oh How Ironic remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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So I’m on the train currently, in pursuit of the city of Roma. But, I thought before I get there, I might just sum up the last few days properly as my last entry didn’t do justice to my thoughts. Not necessarily about the iconic tourist places we went to, but more the place in which we stayed. We actually didn’t stay in Firenze, but it’s easier to say that when you’re hurried to write an entry. We stayed in an area on the outskirts of Firenze, about an hour or so drive out of the city to the mountainous village of Vernio. We stayed up in the mountains there in a farm house-esque place which dates back to the fifteenth century (though refurbished in the last hundred years). In a strange way, it reminded me of home which is something I find really odd. Where I live in Australia it’s mountainous, and we are backed up against a bush though since we moved in the area has started to be built up more, you know, acreage type blocks. Where as where we stayed it was surprisingly not very built up and unlike home, we actually stayed on a mountain. Well, the main difference was the trees. That’s something that I’ve noticed since we’ve been away. Actually, that was the first thing I noticed in Singapore. In Australia, the plants are a paler shade of green and are small leafed to deal with the environment (lots of sun, lack of water, lack of nitrogen in the soil, ect) which causes plants like Eucalyptus to thrive in our country, where as overseas the trees are darker shades of green and have larger leaves and in general are more luscious looking. Ok, I’ll stop my overly simplified observation. But they are different. Very different.
Ainslie just read what I wrote and thinks I’m retarded for writing so much about leaves. Oh fail on my part. Anyway, so to stop my rambling; in Vernio we were backed up against a forest of such different trees compared to my home in Brisbane which is backed up against a bush.
Let’s try for a subject opposite to trees shall we? How about cars. Oh god, cars. One thing to note for anyone thinking of going to Europe, beware of the road. When we got to London, I was amazed at how dangerously they drove and how dangerous it was to be a pedestrian. When I got to Paris, I decided London roads weren’t that bad but still feared for my life when I crossed the street. However, when I first stepped foot onto a street in Milano, well, that I thought would be the end of me. For the first time we were actually at the wheel of a car this time in Firenze, and you know what, I’ve decided that although Australian laws are extremely anal, especially when it comes to driving, well, I’ve decided from this experience that they are there for a reason. Dad drove. It’s been four years since Dad drove a manual. So that helped. But it was worse because Dad had never driven left hand drive before, and he certainly didn’t know the way around the city, and he certainly was not fussed on driving in the traffic of Firenze. In a rent car. Well, I’m alive, so that’s a good thing. But a handy tip, if you aren’t a competent driver or don’t have good reflexes, take the bus. It was still fun though in a strange way. I almost wanted to be driving and not a passenger. Anyway, I know I rant and rave, so I shall depart now from this entry, and away I go to play solitaire.
 

Farewell to Tuscana, Hello to Roma remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Under a Tuscan Sun remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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This is becoming a habit, doing my entries for the stop over on the train heading to a new place. But who cares. We arrived in Venezia on Wednesday afternoon, pretty much with no trouble except our train was late. But hey, shit happens. Ah Venice, it’s such a smelly and in some parts a dirty town, but unlike Paris which makes it obvious and leaves that lasting impression on you as such, Venieza makes it beautiful. You really just don’t notice the smell or dirt, because you are just blow away by how gorgeous the city is, and how nice the people are. That’s another thing I’ve noticed. London, people were pushy but helpful. Paris, the people were rude and unhelpful. Milano and Venezia, the people have just been helpful and accommodating. Perhaps my distain for Paris is born out of how people treated us. Not badly, but not nicely either.
Back to Venezia. We stayed on the main island in the area of Dorsoduro (which is the university area). Our hotel was fantastic, it was an old ‘palace’ (anyone back in the ancient times with money called their villa a palace). And it was close but far from everything. Perfecto. We had dinner then took a ride on a gondolé on the many canals (as well as the Canal Grande) of Venice. I would have probably taken in more of the scenery if not for Ainslie constantly screaming about how we would fall out (and as Dad put it, “every person for themselves”).
Thursday we went to Burano, your one stop shop for lace goods. Much to say, I didn’t buy anything lacy for myself. We observed Burano’s own leaning tower whose name escapes me. It was built like the rest of Venice on the swampy lands but built on poor foundations which has resulted in its slow decline. To expect that everything in Venezia would be intact was probably too much to ask for, I mean, the place is a thousand years old. Yesterday also was the day when we had our first home cooked meal since leaving Brisbane. Fittingly we had pasta.
So what happened today? Well, I did as the title of this entry suggests, I did indeed stack it down the stairs leaving the hotel. I’m a clutz, it was bound to happen eventually. But it’s not too good though because I’ve rolled my ankle. Ains and Mil found the whole situation amusing as I apparently yelled out “OH FUCK SHIT!” when I fell. Well, my suitcase did fall on my ankle when I rolled it. Our train ticket was made of more fail then my sense of co-ordination. Bit of a panic as our ticket said ‘Cabine Otto’ and here’s the funny thing, the train only went up to cabin seven. Turns out they had changed the train but didn’t tell anyone. So we are now in ‘Cabine Sette’ on the way to Ferenze; Sainte Maria Novenia. This will be my parents drinking stop as we are staying at a farm house with all the wine you can get your hands on. Fun for them. This train trip has been filled with me being mocked for my exclamation I made when I rolled my ankle, us mocking the pa in English (it speaks in a prerecorded message in Italian then in English, but still uses the Italian voice over for the names…ah, you’d just have to be here to find it amusing). Bye for now.

Oh Ho, Fail Much? remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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On yet another train today, and it’s off to the city of Venezia.. Out of the three places we’ve stayed, I’ve enjoyed Milano the most. Perhaps it’s something about the city, but not every person and their dog seems to smoke unlike in Paris. I’m probably going to get lung cancer just from passive smoking now thank you Paris. Still, a high proportion of people smoke unlike in Brisbane. As Australians we are absolutely anal about rules and health, and you know, I actually have an appreciation for that. Especially for road travel. It’s like a friggin’ free for all on the streets. Anyway, yesterday was our shopping and tour bus day in Milano. Ah, shopping in Milano. I hate shopping, in fact I loathe it with a passion, but I actually enjoyed myself. And I actually bought a dress and a top. The tour though was probably the highlight of the day, I finally to see ‘The Last Supper’. It was just spectacular, no, words can not describe actually how amazing it was. And just the thought of being in the same room as Di Vinci when he painted this masterpiece. Oh god I nearly shat myself. I know people make this pilgrimage as a religious experience, I didn’t though. I did it purely for the artistic experience. Just to observe the technique which this master used. Anyway, dinner at 10pm per usual, we’re just really slack like that. Out of the hotel (which was just amazing by the way) at 10:22am and on the train by 11:35am. It’s currently 1:56am local time, and we appear to be getting off the train within the next half an hour and then onto the next leg of our journey. Well, that’s all for now as it appears as though this laptop might eat itself soon.  

On The Road Again remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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And onto Italy we head! First off – Milan! Goodbye Paris! I promise that I shall not miss you. Perhaps because I only really spent two days in Paris, I don’t know, but it’s left a very bad taste in my mouth and made me home sick. Unless it’s a tourist area, the streets are filled with rubbish and animal waste, about 99.99% of the population smokes, and regardless of what anyone says, it is definitely not a romantic city. However it has let me with an appreciation for those who do not speak English in Australia. It’s hard not knowing a language in a foreign country. Though, it has made me feel quite bad. I feel rather ignorant as an English speaking person. Other people take time to learn our language, but we are really quite lazy. We assume that someone will speak English and complain when people don’t. One thing I love about Paris is the food. Oh, the food! It’s a pleasant change from London and the lard injected foods which made me very ill. I was sick as a dog after London, but once I got some French food in me, it was similar to what Mario would be like if he found hat made of steroids. So I’m on the train now, heading too Milan, Italy. Southern France is just surreal, almost like something out of a fairy tale. I wish I lived here. The area we are passing through currently is Modane, just off the boarder separating France and Italy. There is nothing I don’t like about this place. Tall mountains surround a town frozen in time with just the most beautiful, but daunting river I have ever seen. It’s drizzling now just adding to that magical air that Modane gives off. And surprisingly, this want to live here has made me home sick, for my home which is completely different in appearance, weather, temperature and the obvious difference in hemisphere. Italy will apparently be scorching hot, which will make it hard to go back home for the middle of winter. Back to this side of the world, we’re passing through a rather long tunnel which I’ll assume is passing through a mountain. I’ve never seen mountains this spectacular before. I mean, back home I live in an area surrounded by mountains, but they have nothing on this. Laptop will die soon. Damn. Oh well. Before I finish, just to let you know, I’m sorry if using Australian Eastern Standard Time is confusing for some people, but I decided that it would be best considering the different time zones here. Easier for me. Bye for now. Perhaps another entry later.

5 Countries, 5 Days remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Yes, I am referencing the song by the Whittlams. But there is nothing to love about this city. First, sorry about no entry yesterday, I was too tired and the day was just retarded anyway. Although, it was Mum’s birthday, Happy Birthday, Mum. The day started out yesterday with breakfast in London, and dinner in Paris. Romantic, no? Well, no. Not at all. Cried at breakfast, still not entirely sure why. I don’t tend to cry over things. The day just got better from there. After catching the international train from London to Paris (of which, the country side was very nice of both England and France) we arrived in the city of love. Or as I like to call it, the city of ‘why is it so hard to use a bin?’. The area we stayed in was kind of gross. Dog piss and rubbish everywhere. Our room was okay. Had what it needed. Beds, toilet. Speaking of the toilet, I think it’s a design fault but they put the toilet on one side of the bathroom, and the toilet paper role holder on the other side of the room. Brilliant stuff. At about 1am, my sisters and I were highly amused by the belching contest which some guys were having on the streets below. We went to the Eiffel Tower today, the view from the top was spectacular. Though, I still think it’s just one of those places you go to and say ‘I’ve been there’. Not much else you can say about it. We journeyed to an art museum, where works by Dali were housed. I have to say, I have little like for impressionism. But I appreciated it regardless. Also did a walking tour of Paris. Interesting I suppose. Anyway, you can probably tell that I’m tired, and not really caring anymore, so to bed I go! Good night!

You've Gotta Hate This City remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Day two of the Tour de French Familie. After a much needed sleep from yesterdays thirty-three hour day, we set off at 9am London time for my first taste of being a tourist. There are a lot of things I vowed never to do in my life, such as never smoking, or never sitting through another episode of Two and a Half Men for as long as I live. But you know, I did it, I associated myself with my stereotypical touristy family. We wreak tourist where ever we go. Our mega tourism started by getting on the aptly named ‘Big Bus’ services which took us around to all the sites in London. I wont lie, I’m a nerd when it comes to history, and it was fascinating listening to the audio regarding what places were at one stage before big businesses came and raped the buildings, turning them into these half old half new hybrid buildings. I like to call them mules personally. Not quite here nor there and kind of lame. Any who, so we powered up our tourist jems getting off the tourist bus at Westminster Bridge and jumped straight onto another touristardy quest , that being the ‘City Cruise’ ferry of course. Destination – Greenwich. The ferry was great, the guide was amusing to listen to, if you could speak English that is. I’ll eject here and quickly talk about an observation I made when I was in various tourist prone areas. People would always tell me that Americans were the worst people to be in a tour group with, they were apparently loud, and complain a lot. I always saw this as a negative stereotype, but wow, I have to say, from the people I encountered, I’d say the general statement to be true. Perhaps I just was in the wrong place at the wrong times to observe this. I don’t know, just an observation. Anyway, back to Greenwich. Absolutely beautiful place. I don’t know how many times the person who originally acquired that land had to ‘service’ a money tree nymph, but I salute them. Nice job. The view from pretty much everywhere is fantastic, but from the observatory, it’s breath taking. Speaking of the observatory, we did the wanky thing while we were there by taking pictures of ourselves standing on either side of the meridian. Yes we have lives, shut up. Missed our ferry back as a consequence my younger sister winging about needing to be fed (children under 13 don’t need food as far as I’m concerned), my parents giving into her demands, pulling a tourist and going the wrong way, my other sister not wanting to walk at her ‘rape pace’ (as far as she’s concerned, that’s anything over half a kilometer. I suppose that’s in her defense going to save her one day). Caught the next ferry and off to the Tower of London we ventured, so alls well that ends well. The Tower was great. I’m actually not sure what I liked more about it though; events that happened inside the walls, or the walls of the fortress itself. Just amazing architecture, it really makes you wish that Australia could actually have some interesting features such as that. Oh well, we make it up by other historical things. But I persist. I was disgusted at the Tower when it came to the crowns and jewels of past kings and queens. Over compensation much? Regardless of the monarchs self esteem issues, it was still awe inspiring the amount of detail put into each work, some people here jus too much time on their hands. At 5:33pm however, we were shooed out of the Tower by a worker who thought we were American. Fail. Another ferry ride later and we were back in Westminster, where mum nearly shat herself on the London Eye. Nice view from up that high. On our way back later, we observed an amusing protest by push bike riders who stopped traffic, making a stance against the evil overloards, the Transport Council and their horrendous practices of charging people for train travel. Screw what I said last entry, that has the making of an epic. That’s all folks.

On a Boat remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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So it has the making of an epic, five people, travelling to the other side of the world on a quest to realize heir dreams on an adventure that will be remembered for years to come. Back to reality, and what a pity it’s my family really. Our adventure began yesterday at 7:30pm, leaving home in pursuit of a plane that would begin boarding in approximately four and a quarter hours. Said plane left Brisbane airport at around 12am, and the journey began After much air sickness and pressure induced/tiredness induced headaches on my behalf, we arrived in Singapore after a seven and a half hour flight. For me, this was amazing as the only body of water I had ever flown over before was the Bass Strait, and let’s face it, going to Tasmania doesn’t count as another country. Then again, regardless of it being a state of Australia, it’s pretty foreign I suppose. Anyway, this feat I was very proud of myself for up till now. It was unfortunate that we could not leave the airport however an explore. Alas, we spent our time in a foreign country bickering, buying a new camera and magazines and generally just being slow (all but buying the new camera I found incredibly frustrating). By 9:05am, Singapore time, 11:05am Brisbane time, our flight was set to leave. As geeky as this may sound, but I have never been so impressed with a public transport company being on time, because that’s just not possible, but I found it in Singapore Airlines. However this feeling of satisfaction was soon taken over b y the thought of how long the next leg of our trip would be. It took seven and a half hours to travel from Brisbane to Singapore; it was so boring I could have bitten my own arm off. But this. This leg of the trip promised to take thirteen hours. Well, currently its 8:01pm Brisbane time and I have ot slept now in thirty-six hours. There is only three hours and thirty-two minutes left till we reach Heathrow, and soon our plane will cross over the Russian boarder and across the Sea of Avoz. Nine hours have past since we left Singapore and I believe we are on the home stretch now. I am really tired. I cam barely think, and everything is a big blur, and that good old air sickness is still rearing its head. It’ll be 2:47pm local time or later when we reach London, which will be around 11:47am Brisbane time. I actually brought my drawing stuffs with the as I had this romantic idea that I wouldn’t be tired. I’d be motivated. I’d want to draw for twenty-four hours. Instead I watched Watchmen twice, four episodes of Bones, Family Guy, The Simpsons and I think that’s about it. Wow, I’ve written a lot for something which is just observations made on a plane. I’ll put you out of our misery and return to mine and stop writing about my trip.

A Very Long Day remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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At least by making this account, I can be more in touch with mum and dad (and more specifically to dad via his blog) while they are away (yay ¬_¬)

Anyway, if for some strange reason some one other than father has reached this page, have fun seeing nothing, love.

Gabi

Fantastic...? remains copyright of the author bantam, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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