Me, myself and I

Photos: Egypt

mimoso_666 — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 01:17:00 GMT

Photos: Turkey

mimoso_666 — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 00:53:00 GMT

Photos: Greece

mimoso_666 — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 05:30:00 GMT

Photos: Ferry Italy-Greece

mimoso_666 — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 07:28:00 GMT

Out of 30 hours of ferry ride, there was sunshine for about 45 minutes! Here are the pictures taken during that short period.

Meeting People

mimoso_666 — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 07:25:00 GMT

I have been travelling for a few years now in Youth Hostels. Since this is a travel blog on a travel website, I'm assuming most people who read this (if anyone does!), have been to one at some point. I didn't realise it the first time I came to Italy because it was as part of a school group, or when I went to Asia because I was with four friends, but now that I'm travelling alone, I'm starting to see they do something to people.

In the past few years, I have grown more and more accustomed to being on my own, to the point where I am never sure how to start a conversation with a stranger now. If I go to a pub or a coffee shop on my own (which, by the way, is not as pathetic as it sounds!), I never meet anyone. However, the minute I set foot in a hostel, I find myself surrounded by lovely, sociable people with whom I spend whole days visiting and whole evenings... well, let's just say that sleep is overrated!

I live in England now and, the first day I arrived to London, I met this American student who was in London for a few weeks and, within a couple of hours of my arrival in the hostel, we had a group of six or seven people, from 5 countries and three continents and we spent a week together, discovering the capital.

In Barcelona, only two weeks ago, I arrived in the hostel and hadn't had time to leave my bags in my room that already I had made a few friends. I was in that city for three days and, every evening, after a full day of touristing (I know, it's not a word, but if it was up to me, it would be!), we would meet at the hostel, cook and eat together and then spend most of the night playing cards, basketball (getting police warnings because we were playing basketball...) and talking.

In Marseille, I met a couple of Australian students, studying in Holland and visiting the south of France and, after visiting Marseille together, we then travelled to Nice which we visited together as well.

How can it be so easy talking people, meeting people in hostels when it seems so hard in real life? Do they change everyone or just make me more sociable?

Ferry Boat

mimoso_666 — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 07:14:00 GMT

I am writing from no country today. I am lost, somewhere, between Italy and Greece (hopefully, the people in charge of the boat know where we are better than I do!). I embarked yesterday afternoon on this ferry boat, capable, during summer, of holding up to 2000 passengers.

Getting there was quite an adventure! I only had this very vague map of the city they give at hostels and therefore walked for more than an hour before finally finding the part or the port where passengers are welcome. When I got there, I was directed to the left of a building and I followed a line of people to a gigantic queue.

I had a vague idea that I wasn't in the right place because the time of departure indicated for the boat didn't match the one on my ticket but a nice lady working for the port told me that everything was okay, that I was in the right spot and that all I had to do was wait in line for check-in.

It didn't feel right but I figured “She works here, she knows better, right?”

Yeah... she didn't! After about half an hour lost waiting for my turn to come, I was starting to panic because my limit check-in time was coming fast when finally, I was in front of an employee. She looked at my ticket, looked at her list of passengers, looked at my ticket again. She then went to another employee who looked at my ticket, looked at the list, looked at my ticket again. When they went to see a third employee, I started loosing patience. It was 11h15 and I had until 11h30 to find the right place, as it was now obvious this wasn't it!

The third employee came to see me. She was really nice, and explained that I was in the wrong place and that I had to go all the way back to the entrance of the port and take a right turn where I had been told before to take a left. I started walking very fast, pulling my suitcase and carrying my computer. I finally arrived at the building she had indicated, five minutes after 11h30. It was deserted. No one in sight, inside or outside the building. I was late and thought that check-in was over, that I had missed my boat and, at the same time, lost the 70 € my ticket had cost, which I really couldn't afford to pay twice.

I was understandably upset! I thought of calling my sister or my parents to vent a little but two things occurred to me: 1. It wasn't worth calling before having a conclusion to my story to tell, and 2. It wasn't yet 7 o'clock in Canada!

I made the right choice in not calling them because, after I decided to keep walking for a little while, I arrived in front of a building with the name of the company in charge of my ferry written all over it. I walked even faster than I had done before and, five minutes after I had made it to the building, I was checked-in and past security (and breathing again!) as if nothing had happened!

Anyway, this is another story where everything ended well (which, by the way, is the way most of my stories end. Because, even though I have a talent for getting into that kind of situations in countries where I don't speak the language, I'm also very lucky and never get into any real trouble!) and I soon lost all the anxiety it had created in me when the boat left and I was surrounded by water and had the movement of waves to get me to sleep in the evening!

P.S. For anyone visiting Venice and trying to take a Minoan Line Ferry, I have put my tag in the exact spot from which you leave!

Photos: Italy

mimoso_666 — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 20:42:00 GMT

First impression

mimoso_666 — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 20:23:00 GMT

You know how first impressions are. When you have a job interview, you need to look presentable. When you meet one of your friend's boyfriend for the first time, usually, after one look, you have an idea of him set in your mind.

Cities are the same. The first time (and, truth be told, only time!) I went to San Francisco, I knew I fell in love. No questions about it. I had been to France, Italy, China and Japan but San Francisco became, within minutes, my favorite city on Earth.

It isn't anymore!

It didn't take me minutes but seconds to fall in love again. With Venise!

I arrived just before sunset. I was carrying my suitcase (I know, not a real backpacker!) and computer bag, I had my filofax with instructions for the hostel in one hand and was pulling the suitcase from the other, I was exhausted from too much partying and visiting at the same time in Spain and France and still, I couldn't help smiling and laughing like a complete idiot and stopping every 30 seconds to take pictures (which, unfortunately, almost all turned out terrible because my camera only makes good pictures during daytime).

I stopped in front of every shop selling Carnaval masks (how touristy!) and would have bought every single one of them if it hadn't been from a slightly tight budget and a suitcase already too full. This being said, I have made to myself the promise that next year, I will be here for the Carnaval!

When I found my hostel, I barely took the time to leave my bags in my room before going out again, walking without a goal, admiring the streets, the canals, the churches and, mostly, the colours!

When, after about two hours of that, accompanied by the music of Jesus Christ Superstar (that's another story, maybe next time!), I stopped in a pizzeria, had mushroom and proscuitto pizza and, on my way back to the hostel, full, tired and yet immensely happy, I couldn't help thinking: I want to live here!

Photos: Portugal

mimoso_666 — Fri, 6 Jan 2012 04:19:00 GMT

Back in time -- First Day Off

mimoso_666 — Tue, 3 Jan 2012 07:21:00 GMT

There are many things people who don't like me very much can say against me. I'm cheeky, sometimes to the point of being rude. I'm messy and, even though I don't have the excuse of being a child anymore, I absolutely hate cleaning my room. One thing I am not, however, is lazy. Between July and December, all I did was work. I accepted the lost of my days off every time my boss asked and sometimes even offered to work myself so he wouldn't have to.

For 6 months, I got more and more tired, but was absolutely fine with it because I kept telling myself that I would travel in January and that it would make up for everything.

On the 3^rd of January, I came down from the room where I live, just upstairs from the kitchen where I work.

I wasn't wearing my chef's uniform. I had make-up on, which I never do when I work, and all I wanted was to get a cup of coffee before going back upstairs to finish packing.

I was a little bit nervous and I did feel rather guilty at leaving my boss alone to take care of the kitchen for two months, even though he had assured me countless times that it suited him just fine.

After stopping in the steps for a couple of minutes to say hello to the pub's dog, I walked into the kitchen. And then, my boss said something that made everything fine and made me realise fully that, starting from that morning, I had two whole months off to look forward to: “Hello civilian!”