Unravelling the Mysteries of the East by Christopher Wagner

Unravelling the mysteries of the East ( W ) a

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1) Introduction Ciao tutti da Firenze - Let us preface this letter by explaining that this edition of Chris’ newsletter is co-written (more like mostly written) by his girlfriend Brooke (if you don’t remember, she has been here in Florence since just after Christmas). Meanwhile, Chris will provide the less important task of editing, and compiling, the written work into a final word / picture document. In addition, instead of trying to explain all the details of the many trips and places we have seen, since this would be an impossible task at this point, we resolve to instead tell in greater detail one adventure that they feel will most interest you (and with the greatest impact on their respective lives as it be). Then not to delay, hither we to the beginning of such delight: We have divided our week-and-a-half long travel extravaganza during the winter break here in mid-February into three sections to help keep you all orientated (don’t let the names fool you), and in the theme of Florence’s own Dante Alighieri, we have named them in relation to the places existing in his Divine Comedy. Our journey follows this varied path. Therefore, again without any correlation, we have the following: Paradise (Venice), Purgatory (Budapest), and Inferno (Romania).

Chris and Brooke at Rasnov Fortress, Transylvannia

Paradise: Venice (Il Paradiso)

The start of our winter adventure began early Friday the 13th in the morning following a rather ardous and beleaguering week of steady rain and studying. We both had cabin fever, and were ecstatic to leave the confines of the daily Saint Mark’s, Venice grind. Upon arrival in charming Venice, Brooke exclaimed (as do we all the first time): “This is the most beautiful and charming place in the world”. (She would change her mind eventually - with a little help from Chris, but that is neither here nor there). But in the moment, she had reason to say so, as the weather was impeccable and unexpectedly warm, with a piercing blue sky vault and ample sun shine. Although we had arrived on a Friday, and officially a day of Carnevale, we found to our surprise the city mostly normal and peaceful. However, the local children were already in full spirit, dressed up in the funniest, cutest costumes, most of which originating from American film heroes (i.e. Spiderman). In a sense, we thought this was their version of Halloween. Towards the evening, we began to see the emergence of fully-costumed Venetians (no ordinary tourist can afford these lavish outfits) with the characteristically elaborate masks. It was sometimes difficult to tell whether the costumed Venetians were clumsy, intoxicated, blinded by their elaborate masks, or just old…as many seemed almost unable (that is, with great difficulty) to get up around the bridges and walkways. But personally, we found this hilarious...as they were like giant blind clowns. It added to the charm of the place. Another interesting thing we remarked was the elaborate system of carts and

Brooke in Venice

Welcome to Europe! (prepare to pay $2, or else, to soil your trousers!)

pulleys designed in Venice just to transport goods and produce up and over their bridges (since without cars, the only way to get items around the island is by boat and hand-cart). Both of us had arrived in Venice either coming off a cold (Brooke) or becoming sick (Chris), and therefore, one of our priorities right away as to get better quick. With this in mind, Chris decided it would be wise to purchase a full-pack of vitamin yogurts to ward off sickness, and made the foolish decision to drink 5 of them in a row. Later, without public restrooms, he regretted this decision. Most of the afternoon was spent looking around Venice and wandering in and out of shops, although a sidefocus soon became a search (as always) to find a decent place for lunch (Venetian food is rather forgettable) and of course, a place to go to the bathroom! At one point, we found ourselves following WC signs imprinted on the street walkway, and after several twists and turns found ourselves at the locked door (in the middle of the day) of the only public restroom facility in Venice. However, they had a funny sign that should please all of you (this summarizes the sad state of Europe, especially when it comes to charging residents themselves with a special “WC” card, however much discounted!). Late in the afternoon we were able to visit inside the beautiful Byzantine church of St. Marks, which was a personal favorite of Brooke. It is incredibly unique inside because it is rather small, with many oriental domes, and gold mosaics everywhere. The floor is completely uneven and warped, although covered in the most amazing geometric mosaics as well, reminding the visitor of the reality that Venice is all built up upon millions of wooden poles instead of on solid ground… and therefore renders even more amazing the fact that this structure (and all of Venice for that matter) have stood up for so long! We also found St. Marks square to be the best piazza in Italy (with much experience, might we add). Into the evening, Brooke rediscovered how stubborn Chris can be, as they waited an unacceptable amount of time for a specialty deli to open where Chris had visited his first time to Venice (promising her the best vegetable lasagna ever). Chris remarked back how unfair the pathetic hours most shops in Italy stay open were to counter her discontent. At night, we had a simple evening and went back to the mainland (where our hotel was located)… because in Venice after dark there is really nothing much to do, other than continue to wander aimlessly!

mask shop for

Reflections from a canal

Carnevale

The next day we returned back to the city to find thousands more tourists crowding the streets. It seemed like we had just missed the real excitement of Carnival! Much more people were dressed up in costumes and elaborate masks. It became so crowded that it felt like Disneyland on a summer day! We spent the morning wandering and doing some light shopping, and then returned to our hotel to grab our belongings and head to the nearby town of Treviso by train. We then had to find a bus that would take us to the airport to catch our flight, which would take us to the starting point of our Eastern Europe adventure. Chris, without any map or direction, magically found the bus stop. We made the bus right on time and got to the airport with time to spare. Unfortunately, we did not have time to visit the town of Treviso, but we have heard great things about it (a mini-Venice with many canals, and reportedly uncommonly great hospitality). The airport at Treviso, although somewhat small, was incredibly modern and architecturally pleasing to Chris, with wonderful shapely glulams and juicy skylights. We boarded our flight on “Wizz Air” to Budapest. While the flight was calm, and what we later found out to be on “auto-pilot” (hence the cheap fares), the landing gave us quite the adrenaline rush, because the plane did not seem so slow down for landing at all, but rather speed up (that must be an auto-pilot thing). It felt like we hit ground at two hundred miles an hour! After several bounces and going full speed down the runway for what seemed like several minutes, we stopped. We were all happy just to be alive-Everyone clapped!

Typical Venetial “Macelleria” (meat shop)

Other pictures from Venice

Venetian Church A typical shaded street with the ever-present, colorful clothes lines

The Grand Venential Canal

S. Lucia (perhaps), adjacent to Stazione Ferrovia

View of Budapest and the Danube (called Duna in Hungary) from “Buda” side, on “Castle Hill” near the St. Mattias Church

Purgatory: Budapest, Hungary (Il Purgatorio) First things first, in Hungarian, the name for Hungary neither sounds, nor looks, anything like “Hungary”. In fact, this country is called “Magyarorszag”...no joke! This first realization just gives you a clue as to what we were up against as we left the comforts of relatively “normal” Western Europe! We arrived in Budapest in the evening, and instantly we both felt a little strange to be somewhere other than care-free, comfortable Italy. An ackward, bald-headed employee from Wizz Air drove us by van from the airport to the center of town, luckily driving a normal speed. We had no clue where we had been dropped off, however, since we couldn’t understand what he was saying in English! However, without a map or any previous knowledge of the layout of Budapest, we were able to find our bearings, and after walking around, we found our hostel, which in the theme of many past hostels had a strange name: “The Lavender Circus”. Every hostel we stay in seems to have a rather interesting name; the Paris hostel was ironically named “Oops”, while in Rome we stayed at “Alice in Wonderland”. Budapest was very large, but surprisingly dead (or maybe not, since it was Winter). No one was walking the streets at all during the entire weekend! Fortunately, Judit, the manager of the Lavender Circus, welcomed us with great hospitality when we made it to the hostel that first night. She was kind enough to give us an entire run down on the city, delicious hot tea, and other useful advice. We had our own room, which was fantastic-much nicer than being crowded in a sweaty room with several dirty bunk beds. We took the advice of Chris’s ever-present travel “Bible”, Let’s Go (which is the young traveler’s faithful version of Rick Steves, the bible for the elderly travellers…haha!) The book recommended we eat at a restaurant called Fatal. Despite the sinister name, we were intrigued. It was accessable through a dark wooden door that led off a side street downstairs into a basement cavern, essentially a long, low barrel-vaulted roof running longways without windows, but not short on candles and charm.The menu was so extensive and well-designed that it reminded us of Tahoe Joes’s in San Luis Obispo (furthermore, it was in English and had several items that seemed like things we would have found back home at a similar res-

taurant). Chris and I ordered goulash, as was necessary to do, since it is a Hungarian specialty. Chris was especially in love with it and had it consistently for the next six days, until he had a paprika breakdown. We decided to share an enormous second plate, in addition, which was beyond proportions when it came out. It was the biggest meat platter we had ever seen. There was chicken, pork, sausage, and turkey (all fried), potatoes, cooked cabbage, rice, and fried mushrooms. Needless to say, even as a group of two we weren’t up to the task! We were also shocked to be sitting near a loud (as always) group of Italians. In fact, everywhere we seemed to go, there was always a bunch of Italians! Chris was able to translate their conversations to me when I became curious. We thought our waiter was a distinct character, as he was not only a disgruntled waiter, but also posessed a nearly-flawless, well-sculpted gray curled mustache. At this particular restaurant, as it happened to be, not just one, but all of the waiters were huge old men, that were a bit on the grumpy side. Still, it turned out to be the best meal of all during our long trip!

A nervous Brooke takes on the “Intimidator” Mountainous Meat Platter at Fatal

Interior: 2nd largest synagogue in world, Budapest

The next morning, we woke up and went to a coffee shop that was similar to Starbucks, or The Coffee Bean, because you could astonishingly order a chai latte. We wanted to start our trip in Budapest in a relaxing way, so we decided to first go to a Turkish bath. We were staying on the Pest side of the river, and the Rudas Baths complex was on the Buda side. We walked over the stunning Elizabeth bridge, and the air outside was so incredibly cold (of course we didn’t walk in our bathing suits!). The baths were easy to pick out because we knew that the building had a huge dome. When we walked in, we were both confused and scared. It did not look like a spa at all, it looked like an insane asylum, including the poeple. You had to pay first, then receive a ticket to enter, then wait in line like the DMV for your number to be called. As we watched the other people enter the first chamber of the baths, we noticed they had to have some sort of conversation with a scary looking doctor lady and her meaty, hairy assistant. We thought they might run some strange tests before letting us outsiders in. It was so utterly depressing looking that for a second we considered just quietly walking out and saving ourselves from what might be. However, we stayed and our number was eventually called.

Luckily, they just laughed at us when we spoke English and pointed onward, without taking blood samples or whatnot. We walked though a nice locker area, but all the lockers were taken. We waited for the direction of a lazy employee and he just kept pointing down the hall in a general direction. In the meantime, Chris got a little anxious and accidentally opened up the locker of some elderly man changing, who was not in the least pleased by this. We searched for probably a half an hour on all different levels for more lockers, but it seemed almost like a sick joke they were playing on us! Finally, when we started to try and enter the large bath dome (mind you everything is indoors), the same lazy employee came running after us grunting in some hybrid dialect and finally showed us the secret passageway leading to the other set of lockers. Needless to say, we felt incredibly ackward and stupid, but at that point we wanted to at least get in the water! The bath complex itself was pretty nice. There was so much fog that you could not see around the room very well. There was one large warm bath in the middle and several small cooler baths around it. The dome was nice because it had colored glass that let light stream down. Chris and I were immediately entertained by the types of people that were present. Meanwhile, the Hungarian language is so different than anything we had ever heard before, apparently the language even has some Asian influences... and is related to Finnish, Estonian, and Japanese (maybe?)... as it was, we couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t honestly guess whether we were in Bangladesh or Latvia. We were so baffled as to what people were saying, so we invented the dialogue as was appropriate. The funniest thing was that there were a plethora of old fat men crowding together in the middle of the large warm pool. We had never seen so many humongous men in Speedos in all our lives. It was sight to behold. They would stand in a circle, occasionally playfully splashing each other with water, and talk for hours. One man had the largest belly that we had ever seen; it completely covered up his speedo in the front, giving us the impression that he was naked. The biggest kicker was that we swear we saw our waiter from last night (at Fatal) along with a few of the other waiters. We stayed for a couple of hours until our skin became wrinkly. There was also a nice sauna that we stayed in for a while as well. We left feeling more relaxed than we have ever been in Europe. Amen. The city of Budapest is a very interesting place because they have become a very westernized city.

What looks to be the remains of a church nave

St. Mattias Church, ramparts walk, and beautiful bronze statue

They are trying to adopt Western ways and it is obviously showing and working for them. The city was very clean and had good overall organization. You could feel a bit of a Communist influence though some of the architecture. Suprisingly, many of the shops have English written in the window. The city had a bit of a hollow feeling because on Friday and Saturday no one was outside, probably due to the beyond cold and snowy weather. Chris and I agreed that this would be a fantastic place to visit during the summer. Things are well priced for your dollars, and if the weather had allowed, we could have seen some great sights. Crepes are very popular here for dessert, but paprika rules! The entire city smelled like paprika spice! Budapest constructed the first metro system in Europe, and today it is one of the nicest we have been on. Hungarian bank notes made Chris feel like a rich man because the bills are in thousands, but it made one heck of a confusing currency translation. Our money went pretty far during our stay. That was the easy part - as we mentioned, the language was so different to us that we did not even know (or learn) how to say yes or no! The words we picked up were: “jo” (meaning good), “ter” (square), “utca” (street), and they pronounce “hello” as “see ya” which we found humorous. in other words, people come up to eachother in shops or on the street and say, “hello, see ya!”. We found ourselves fairly skilled, nevertheless, at pointing and grunting to get everything we desired! When it was time for lunch, we walked down a street that was well-known for its many lively cafés. It was so ironic, then, because we were the only people walking down the street. There were a few people in a café here or there, but we were so baffled as to where all the people were. We finally decided on a place called “IF”, and experienced another great meal, with a few tastes of home, like lemonade, and a spicy chicken salad. After lunch, we decided to head to the train station to buy our night train ticket to Brasov, Romania, as it was the last “unknown” link to making our long journey a possibility. It was a little unclear as to where one could purchase the ticket at the main train station heading in eastern directions, so we wandered eventuatlly into a dirty allieway (still in the train station) that had grotesque kebab stands and lively Middle-Eastern music playing (we instantly felt like we were in Istanbul) and then walked though a loading-dock curtain to finally find ourselves at the line for international train tickets…random huh? We made sure to buy tickets for a private cabin, since night trains to Romania aren’t really a wise decision in the first place! On our way home, we found ourselves in front of the State Opera House and decided that we would pay $4 each to see a five- hour German opera by Richard Wagner. Why not, right? We were both a bit embarrassed of our tourist attire, but we couldn’t certainly pass up entertainment for $4! We made it though about 40 minutes before I looked over and Chris was passed out, so I let myself do the same. After about two and a half hours we were

Chris rides the heavy artillary

Brooke bowling in Budapest in gigantic American inspired mall

woken by the lights at intermission, and decided to return to our hostel. However, you can’t entirely blame us for the disinterest, as the Opera was in German, with Hungarian subtitles. We couldn’t have been more out of place! Stumbling back out in the freezing abyse, once again the debated question of where to eat for dinner arose, and I (Brooke) wanted to only walk a little because of the freezing cold temperatures. Since we had no other recommendations, and didn’t want to wander miserably in the snow, we finally agreed to go back to Fatal and have a delicious deathly experience again. To our initial delight, we had the same waiter as the night before! But amazingly, he acted as though he had never seen us in his life (especially not at the baths that morning). Chris and I thought that we would have been in the Fatal inner circle after seeing all the waiters in speedos at the Rudas Baths, but we were ever so wrong. We were very curious about our waiter after all these coincidences, but we were okay with the fact that he was numb to us. Still, we had to ask ourselves... what was his life story? Why the low countenance? Why the mustache? Chris got goulash for the second time that day and I had great fajitas. We were so full, but we decided to get the surprise dessert on the menu, which was presented in probably a 60 oz martini glass. We were laughing about how gigantic the dessert was, but we still couldn’t crack a smile out of our waiter. At least we tried... The next morning (a Monday of all days), we woke up to a strangely busy city, full of actual Hungarians! Chris and I were ecstatic to see the people who lived in this city, what they looked like, and what they sounded like. Apparently, most of the population of Hungary lives in this city. Judit described the countryside as being completely dead, since she moved to Budapest from the middle of nowhere. We went to a bakery shop for breakfast which wasn’t great, then again we tried so many pastries in Paris that we had become spoiled. We decided to go to the market to buy some food for our night

Budapest Parliament (second-largest in Europe, after Britian’s... of which it is most directly inspired!)

train ride, and so we stumbled into a market called Match. Match turned out to be the most awful minimarket ever, with a thirty-person line. We were happy just to get out and head off for the 2ndlargest synagogue in the world. When we passed through security there, we accidently joined a group of American Jewish students, and upon entering the synagogue behind them, an old man came up to Chris and made him put on the traditional Jewish hat as a sign of respect for God (no issues there). Well, I could tell that he was a little taken back and somewhat uncomfortable (as he didn’t expect it in the first place) and meanwhile, I was happy to be a girl. The synagogue’s size was not very impressive because we had just visited St. Peter’s in Rome. But. it was interesting to see the differences in a Jewish church compared to a Roman Catholic Cathedral: for example, the use of only geometric figures, compared to the usually-elaborate paintings and sculpture found in all Italian churches. Also, women are not given the same full liberties as men in European synagogues. There were certain holy days and celebrations where women could / couldn’t sit in the side aisles, and normally they could only sit above in the side galleries. There was always a curtain system drawn to keep them from interacting with the male groups in the center aisles. Interestingly enough, our tour guide mentioned that this was actually one of the most liberal synogogues in Europe. I think just going and getting a historical perspective and comparing types of churches was of great intellectual benefit. Afterwards, we were given a tour outside of the synagogue, which was very moving. We didn’t know it before, but apparently 1 out of 10 Holocaust victims were Hungarian Jews living in Budapest. There was a beautiful memorial outside the synagogue which was a metallic tree sculpture in a small garden, with the leaves made up entirely by the names of victims. There were also rock pile memorials to several important European figures who secretly aided in saving Jewish people during the war. Lastly, there was a historical museum that exhibited a large amount of sacred objects, newspaper reports, and photographs documenting the Jewish situation during WWII in Budapest. It was incredibly moving, un restrained, and sad...even so many years later! Again, as always, it is hard today to imagine such a cruel capacity of the human heart. During WWII, the synagogue was located in the Jewish ghetto, but it was not destroyed by the Germans because they occupied the building as a strategic command post, and meanwhile the Allied Forces would not bomb it because it was in the middle of the Jewish ghetto. In particular, the pictures of the ghetto were shocking, which you would never have imagined them to be the same streets we were walking through that day. Hungry, as always, we then headed across town by metro to get the best crepes around according to “Lets Go”, on our way to find a recommended wine bar to try out well-reported Hungarian Wines, and see the important buildings of the Buda Castle Hill. Unfortunately, things from that point on didn’t go as well as they had gone the rest of the time in Budapest. It had begun to snow a little more than usual, and was quite chilly on the far side of the river. After a confusing search for the crepe restaurant, we finally found it! The menu had more types of crepes than we could have imagined. We ordered so many, both salty and sweet, because we could. However, they weren’t quite as advertised...and for once, Let’s Go... let us down! We moved on anyway, and made our way up the hill and decided to enter the church of St. Mattias, a beautiful white stone gothic church with very colorful roof tiles. It wasn’t incredibly interesting inside, however, as we have seen the best of Italy (which is pretty much the best of the world). We both found the view from the ramparts outside the church fascinating, as they allowed a perfect view of Budapest and the Danube. Our final goal for that afternoon before heading back across the river was to go to the recommended wine house / museum of Hungarian wine. We didn’t have perfect directions, but the charming Castle Hill district was so small we figured it would be easy. Instead, we ended up wandering along until we came to the series of large state museums, which were all closed that day anyway. Chris, mistakenly, had thought he had read that the wine house / museum was inside one of the large musuems (in fact, a Castle of some sort). While we were wandering around looking, a strange man approached us from behind, and startling us, asked where we were from in seemingly harmless English. Chris made the mistake of conversing with him, and soon realized that he was one of those undercover “tour guides”, complete with a most-pathetic laminated “clearly-illegitimate” badge stating that he was “authorized”. He tried to con us into to a rather expensive and pointless tour of the Castle Hill, stating all these facts about the deals and money he could save us, etc. But we weren’t fooled. However, we made the second mistake of letting him talk too long. He would go on and on and on, and when we tried to interrupt him, he would freak out and tell us to just listen a second more...but really it was just a strategy

to make us give in to the madness. Finally, we tried forcefully, but respectfully, to tell him we had no interest. At this point, he “lost his cookies”, and his ability to speak coherent “english”. He started shreaking and howling, and holding his hands on his head while pacing back and forth near us, as if he was dying. Then he uttered all sorts of strange, incoherent insults and threats as we quickly got away as fast as possible! We were both rather shaken up, and wanted to get off that Castle Hill as soon as possible. On the way out, we finally asked someone where the wine house / museum was, and as it turns out it had been closed-for good! Dismayed, we headed off the hill towards the metro to go back to the hostel. On the way, we had a wonderful snow fight, since by then it was almost a blizzard! But at this point, we still had time to kill, so we decided to go into a huge shopping mall near the metro. It was like walking back into America. All the same stores, the same look, T.G.I. Friday’s, a Bacardi themed-lounged, faux-Mexican bistro...even a several-screen cinema! But the one thing it did have, that grabbed our interest immediately, was a full-size bowling alley overlooking the main atrium! We knew we had to do it, and after a few games, I would venture to say it was the most fun part of the day! Nothing like a little taste of home to make you feel more comfortable in a strange foriegn land. After an unremarkable final meal in Budapest, we made our way to the Keleti Train Station, to catch our nearly-midnight departure to Romania. This night train would turn out to be an experience in itself.

View of Brasov from road leading to Poiana Brasov (ski resort area)

We boarded around 11 pm and were excited because we paid to have our own room instead of bunking up with four other strangers. We found our compartment, which included two beds, enough floor space to take two steps, a window, a sink, and some storage space for midnight snacks. We were pretty excited and surprisingly comfortable. We fell asleep to the views outside our window and were shocked to find an Ikea right outside Budapest city center (Chris’s favorite shopping destination). A few hours later, we jumped out of our beds terrified by the pounding on all of the doors and scary deep voices yelling in Hungarian. I looked over at Chris and his eyes were so wide open they could have fallen out of their sockets. They wanted to see everyone’s passports and Chris reluctantly opened the door after a minute or two, feeling ackward and intruded upon in his pajamas. All was well after the Hungarian officer checked our passports, and we had to calm each other down after being scared to death. We didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. You can imagine two terrified American kids in their PJ’s with their eyes half open and Brooke’s wild curls. We drifted back to sleep. All of a sudden we were woken again to Romanian officers banging on all the doors and yelling in Romanian. We jumped out of our bed just as terrified as the last time. By this point we felt like prisoners on our way to Auschwitz. Our passports were checked and we decided (again) to give sleep another try. It was pretty hard for us to sleep well after that, and in addition because the train would stop every half an hour and stay stopped for some time, making you wonder in your hazy dream if you were at your destination, blocked at the border, or just having a nightmare. By morning, we wanted off the endless night train. We ended up traveling though half of Romania, which was completely covered in snow. It looked so more oppressed than either of us had expected, due to the thousands of pitiful shacks with smoke rising from roofs (and many without roofs) that dotted the countryside. The informative owner of the B&B where we stayed in Brasov (we will describe him later in detail) made a revealing statement one

night in the “time machine”, the basement lounge room of his house where he entertained guests and friends, by explaining that, “If a Romanian has a fire going on in his house, then his neighbors think that he has something going on in his life (meaning well-off, or some good reason to be happy)”, in his great Romanian accent. “Often, people will just burn shoes in the summer time while their neighbors have a bbq, in order to not seem like they aren’t, at the same time, having lots of fun and prosperity” (we wonder actually if this might be true, and not a joke!). We saw several horse-drawn carriages, with original Romanian gypsies driving huge stacks of hay covered in snow-definitely not the Cinderella kindtrekking through the muddy streets in small villages. It was stranger yet to realize, after some analysis, that these carriages were in truth these villagers’ mode of transportation and livelihoods.

fashion first:

“fabulous” poses while skiing in Poiana Brasov

The Inferno: Transylvannia, Romania (L’inferno) Before our bags hit solid ground off the night train, we were approached and harassed by a crazy Romanian man demanding that we stay at his hostel. When we refused him and tried to walk on by, he asked us menacingly where else we had found lodging, but we were too fast for him to keep up with. The train station at Brasov (pronounced Bra-shav) was the dirtiest and most uncomfortable place Brooke had been in her life (her opinion would change when we went to Napoli several weeks after this trip). Even Chris had to agree, it was not a place to stay more than a few seconds...dangerous, dirty... you could sense dozens of strange men and children watching you as you entered and left, most likely debating the possibilities of what they could steal from us. We got out of there as quick as possible and started walking to our B&B (about twenty minutes away unfortunately). However, the streets of

Skiing in style

Small gothic church in Brasov

Brasov were not much better than the train station. After lugging our baggage for several blocks through snow (poor Brooke and her rolling luggage didn’t fare well so well off-road), we arrived to our B&B and were greeted by one of the owners, named Anna. She talked a mile a minute in perfect English, and was extremely friendly and welcoming. When we walked into our room, it was like stepping in a fully decorated bedroom from Ikea. We both loved our room because it was so beautiful, clean, and we even had our own bathroom. Downstairs, there was a full kitchen that we were welcome to use any time, which is a great treat when you get sick of eating out. We settled in and tried to get our bearings on the map, still recovering from the initial culture shock and train station scare. Our hostel was about a twenty-five minute walk from downtown Brasov. When we managed to walk to it finally, the actual downtown part of Brasov was very charming; all the buildings have chalet-style (gothic) architecture. In the backdrop, there are imposing mountains and a sign on the hill that says “Brasov“, mimicking the look of the Hollywood sign. The entire city was covered in snow, but besides the muck on the sidewalk it was rather picturesque. After just an hour there, Daniel, Anna’s husband, came to greet us. He invited us to go skiing with him, his wife and his two cute children. Both Anna and Daniel spoke perfect English, so that helped us enormously. Chris was able to understand a few Romanian words, because it is a Romance language that sounds like an odd mixture of Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese, with Slavic influences (da = yes). To Brooke, it might as well have been Hungarian. But we still got by just fine speaking English. We agreed to go skiing, although there wasn’t much time to ski, due to the lifts closing at 4 pm. Chris and I had not brought any skiing attire, but luckily Daniel had some spectacular 80’s second-hand skiing jumpsuits for us to borrow (left at the place by some crazy Australians that stayed there a few weeks prior). We put our pride aside and decided to wear them without any shame. They were warm, but they were the brightest colors in person. So much for subtlety. We got so many looks on the slopes, but enjoyed it because we would never see these people in our lives again. The drive up to the mountain took about 15 minutes with Daniel driving. It probably would take Chris (on a good day) around 45 minutes to make the drive (just to give you perspective). We got to the mountain and ran to get some skis from a rental shop. The man at the rental shop thought we were crazy for renting skis for a little over an hour (or maybe it was just our outfits), but it was so reasonably priced that we had to do it. There are two gondolas that you could choose to ride up the mountain. One was large and slow, taking groups of around fifty, while the others were constant-

moving six-person types like those found at most modern ski resorts in America. The sking was pretty fun, but rather icy and quite dangerous. There was just an inch or two of snow in most places, beneath which bedrock, when exposed, would send you crashing to the ground! Chris and I got the most enjoyment out of wearing our 80’s ski gear, but we also liked watching people ski. Perhaps it was an off day for the Romanians, but we saw so many terrible skiers that we could not believe it. A majority of the people of the slopes did not know how to turn. Needless to say, the rocks beneath and on top of the snow didn’t help. We made it down in about 40 minutes and decided that once would be enough for that day (after all, we didn’t really want to get hurt this far from Italy). We had not had this much physical exercise in several days, so it burned in a good way. So naturally, we decided to sit with a Romanian version of a hot cocoa and people watch some more (and Chris pet the many stray dogs running around the bottom of the slopes!). Chris thought that it was an impressive and modern ski resort, but later realized that this was only because of obvious financing by German, Austrian, and English tourists who go there to live it up with their ultra-valuable currencies. We were able to rent equipment and ski that day for a little less than $30, even though we only stayed for one hour. Once we returned back to our B&B, we agreed to go to a discount market store right around the corner called “Hard Discount” (we didn’t quite get that one, but we keep trying...). It was comparable to Match in Hungary, but what Chris and I found most disturbing is that they only played one song by Avril Lavigne in the store, over and over. We visited this store several times over the days spent in Brasov, and each time we came in, we would laugh, because they would be playing this same stupid song and then start it all over. It was catchy enough...but we could not stand to be in such an establishment that played such shameful pop / wanna-be punk American music, and had to restrain from snickering helplessly, or bashing in the speakers. Going into a Romania mini-market was a very interesting experience, just to see how different the food available is, even compared to relatively distinct Italy. The farther we go away from America, the stranger things just get! Above all, being unacquianted with this culture and country, compared to that of say Italy or France, really makes everything a surprise. Unlike

Bran Castle: Exterior Facade

Bran Castle courtyard

Hungary, we didn’t know a single thing about Romania culinary culture... so ordering at restaurants was pretty much luck of the draw. That night we went to a nearby “recommend” Romanian restaurant that our helpful host Daniel told us about. We were awfully curious to see how Romania would compare to Italian and Hungarian cuisine. Unfortunately, we are not convinced...still not too big of fans of their cuisine in the aftermath. They have a rather simple, uninventive fare focusing around fish, various soups (that all seem the same), potatoes, and cheap beer. However, some of the fresh bread was to die for. It was also nice to see products like pretzels, sausages, and strudel (must be some northern Europe influence). Whatever you do, however, never order a Romania pizza! When we returned to our homey accommodations, Daniel and Anna invited us to try some of their homemade wine downstairs in a room of their house called the “Time Machine.” It was a brick room below ground that was for entertaining, complete with a bar, wall-mounted flatscreen, and these strange chairs from Africa that were just two pieces of wood, notched to fit together and be self-supporting. He brought out his “homemade” wine and explained that it is customary for Romanians to add fizzy water (spritz!, as they call it) to their wine to avoid getting too intoxicated and to prolong the social activity. Chris had about seven glasses of the wine, to be polite, and keep the funny conversations going. On the other hand, Brooke, although grateful for the wine, thought that it was the worst wine she had ever tasted. The conversation between the four of us went on for hours, thanks to the “spritz!”. We were very entertained by this couple that could speak much faster English than we could. Anna had been around the world seven times and Daniel had been around just a mere three times. They both had worked on cruise ships and had some pretty funny stories about passengers, especially hungry, difficult Americans. He says that he likes America (especially after we put a base in their country and helped

View from top of Rasnov Fortress

Rasnov Fortress inner town

Town of Rasnov, with view of “hollywood” sign above

them gain freedom from the Soviets), but was baffled by our breakfast habits. He said that on one of the cruises he worked on as a chef, one distinctly difficult American passenger wanted his egg white runny but his center yolk to be fully cooked. Daniel could not understand why Americans have to have their double shot, soy or rice milk with extra foam on their caramel macchiato each morning, either. Starbucks drinks do not exist in any form in Romania, which explains his confusion. The way he told us these stories with such a passion made us laugh so much. They told us about how life was for them was during Communism, and later as they travelled from port to port around the world. Anna explained that she had not even tasted a pineapple or kiwi her entire life until after the Cold War. The little things we take for granted everyday were truly luxury items that they were never able to obtain, and to some degree that still continues today. Overall, though, they were very positive about the outlook of Romania, now that it has joined the EU. They told us to tell the Italians that not all Romanians are Gypsies or thiefs, rather that only the bad ones all moved to Italy. In some ways this must be true, since we saw much less Gypsies on the street than in Florence, or especially Rome. Although they have been to many beautiful parts of the world, they still have chosen to reside in Brasov, Romania. This little B&B operation they put on is essentially a way to still meet people from all around the world, just that it works the other way around-the people come to them. The house they built that serves as this wonderful B&B was almost brand-new, and only built to make a little money, and many new friends. We were both equally impressed with them and the crazy, busy lives they still live.

Actual main bus station in Brasov (epicenter for adventurous daytrips)

Imagined main bus stop in Brasov (epicenter for trips to Heaven)

On day six, we decided to visit two nearby small towns that were about a half hour away from Brasov. The bus station was only a few blocks from our place, so we decided that it would be the easiest method of transportation. The bus station looked like something out of 80’s Communism, the picture hardly does it justice: we would have laughed if we weren’t half terrified. When we got on the bus, it felt like we were really in a different world. There were stuffed animal monkeys hanging down from the ceiling, torn tapestry on the seats, and the biggest shrine to Mary on the front windshield. It was a wonder how the driver actually could see the road. In fact, several other bus drivers and a taxi man all had similar “overflowing” shrines on their windshields. The music that was playing on the bus was authentic

Romanian Gypsy music, which to our ears sounded just like Middle Eastern music. Now I realize why they filmed Borat in Romania...for those of you who remember the beginning scene of the movie in his “home town”, that little town would definitely be an archetype for a Romania small village! The first town we went to was called Bran. It was a charming small town with chalet-style architecture as well. There were so many wild dogs roaming the streets, that it was chaotic at points. One of them, however, melted Chris’s heart and he actually wanted to bring it home. The trick is not to make eye contact with the dogs because once you both lock eyes, they will not leave you alone. They even would jump up and paw on your chest cutely begging for some scraps. Bran has a famous castle that was used to guard over the narrow pass that winds through the dark, snowy mountains by “Counts” of the area, and later was transferred through several ownerships before being restored as the official dwelling of the queen and princess of Romania in the early 20th century. Today, it is a museum that preserves a history of the Romanian Royal Family during that time, and also artifacts and items used in the castle up until around a hundred years ago. It was a very charming, manageable little castle, with tudor-style influences, a great view, and intimate inner courtyard (but nothing like we would have expected for Count Dracula, besides the trade-and-traffic controlling view over the pass). Our next destination was another small town on the road back to Brasov called Rasnov (Rouge-snav), but for some reason every bus that came by told us they didn’t stop in Rasnov! We began to get desperate, but just when we were about to give up and just go back to Brasov, we found one that did go that direction. It was afternoon by now, and we had to make good time to see this “civilian-built fortress” high above the town it once protected. Unfortunately, we got off one stop too early and had to trudge through snow and muck along the highway to get into the main town. We walked on the side of the road in 1ft deep snow for about 45 minutes. We finally made our way to the fortress, (which was a steep hike) sitting at the top of the hill. On the steep and icy climb up the mountainside behind the town, we came upon a group of young hoodlums smoking and drinking, and blocking our path upward. They were probably equally confused by us and we were afraid of them. As we approached, a brave one stepped into our path, but we pretended not to notice him and walked around slightly.

one of the hundreds of thousands of stray dogs in

Romania

This isn’t a joke...

However, he said “salut”, to which after a considerable pause, Chris responded “salut-eh”, faking an Italian accent. We were passed through the group before they asked another question, and I responded that we “didn’t understand” well because we were from Italy. Then, they started to shout out after us any word they knew, in Italian, and also in English (some of which were swear words). Kids will be kids. Luckily, they didn’t pursue us and when we came down later, slipping and sliding on our butts down the uber-dangerous path, they were long gone. On top was a magnificant fortress for the entire city to retreat to when enemies attacked. The fortress was a city in itself and had the most stunning views. There was a well inside, dug during 17 years by two Turkish prisoners in exchange for their freedom, which was some 140 meters deep! We dropped down a coin but couldn’t hear it hit. The fortress was very medieval, complete with hanging body prison cages, crenelations, archer slots, a preserved skeleton, tower turrets, and covered ramparts. Chris and I both enjoyed the fortress more than the castle in Bran. When we tried to leave, we were waiting for the bus when a car pulled up and honked at us, pointing randomly off into some direction. We didn’t get it at all, so we just looked back confused! This happened several times during the day, in fact. Later, Anna explained that it is a common practice in Romania-people often drive by and honk at you to see if you would like to be driven somewhere for less than the price of a bus ticket. That was a shocker because the bus ticket cost us a dollar. It was odd to see total strangers, coming from all directions, jump into the same car and take off. We decided not to take this form of transportation, but wait for the bus. After all, a dollar is just a dollar. For dinner, Chris knew of a Mexican restaurant (compliments of Let’s Go) that was in downtown Brasov. The inside of the restaurant, to our surprise, was so beautiful. It was a cave made of bricks and lit by candle light. We were instantly happy to be out of the cold and into the Mexican-food oasis. We both got chicken fajitas that were delicious and we were both so pleasantly surprised, even though they

Opulent “Peles Castle” in Sinaia

tasted oddly of curry. We had homemade chips, several good salsas, and shots of the local “Palinca”, which is the equivalent of Grappa in Italy (hard alcohol made from wine-making process left-overs). It was nice, and we didn’t want to leave. It would have been nice to have more time to see the actual downtown of Brasov, which was contrastingly modern and quaint, with a beautiful, frightfully tall black gothic church, known as the “Black Lutheran Cathedral”, medieval walls and portals, towers with steel spires, and a central clock tower. Our next day trip, on day seven, was to a town called Sanaia. We traveled by train (unfortunately having to go back to the train station) for a little over an hour. The train was so unfortunate looking, that it felt almost beyond third world (if possible). We started to talk with a Romanian man on the train. He was interested in us and asked us where we were from. When we replied, he had two questions for us, “Do you smoke? And “Do you have coke (as in cocaine)?” We responded no and he immediately left. We hope that all people do not think that Californians are drug-carrying rockstars. Brooke was shocked that he would even ask a question like that, all you have to do is look at us and know the answer to that question is (she was wearing poke-a-dots that day). We arrived to a tiny train station. It was a total blizzard all around. When you walked though it (all of 20 steps) you headed straight for a pathway up the hillside. At the top, there was no clear indication of where to go since the snow-blindness inhibited us from knowing where to go. We came to see Peles castle, but that was not an easy task! It was snowing so heavily that we could not figure how to get to the castle. We walked all over this town in search of it. We finally found the monastery, which was supposedly right in front of the castle. However, that was not the case, either. We finally found a road off the beaten path that led to the castle, but it took us so long to track through the snow. On the way, there were hundreds of repetitive wooden stands that would have been selling trinkets, if the heavy snow hadn’t buried and broken down most of them! The castle was an amazing sight to see when we finally arrived. It is the perfect envision that we all have of gothic castles. When we walked into the castle, Chris was completely white because his coat lacked a hood and absorbed the snow. You could not see a single brown strand of hair on his head and his facial hair was completely white. They must have thought we were crazy to have come so far. We walked through the tour dripping wet. The tour of the castle was a sight to behold. It was the only lavish thing that we had seen in Romania. This one castle was so immaculate that it was by far the most memorable sight during our stay. The woodworking was unparallel, and the arms collection would thrill the spirit of any man. King Carol the I was the designer, and also king, who lived in this castle, and lived during a prosporous time for Romania. The rooms were impeccable and there was surprisingly a lot of Italian, and even Florentine influence (especially the artwork). After leaving the castle, we wanted to stop at a recommended pizza restaurant (key word “recommended”). When we walked into “Old Nick’s Pub”, it was just a bar. Later, we found that two other establishments in town were named the same thing. While we were in the pub, a tiny black kitten took a special liking to Chris. He climbed up him and sat on our table and joined us for a drink. We were still hungry, so we decided to find somewhere to eat. We ended up finding the other “Old Nick’s Pub” and had an interesting, at best, version of an Italian pizza. By now Adjacent monestary to Peles Castle, in Sinaia

we were pretty sick of Romanian food, but Italy would come soon enough! The highlight of the day was when Daniel (in the evening) said, “We make sauna.” In their backyard they had a small wooden building with a sauna inside. Chris and I thought that it was hilarious as to how they would always say, “we make sauna?” (in their Romanian accents) instead of saying, “would you like to go in the sauna?” Anna, originally from Estonia, swore that Estonians know more about “making sauna” than anyone else in the world. In order to “make sauna” you must sit in the sauna until you become rather hot (not to the point of dying), then go into the backyard (filled with snow) and sip on your drink of choice (it is key not to let yourself get too cold), then repeat 10 more times, or so. Occasionally, Chris would be daring or just stupid and roll in the snow with their yellow lab named Lady. Perhaps this was from the 2 liter beer that he was drinking, or just shear love of pain. By the end, we were relaxed, and very tired. long-lost relatives?...

Sighisoara cemetery

Iconic clock tower in Sighisoara

Day 8: At this point we only had half a day left in Brasov. So what did we do? We decided to get the 80’s ski jump suits on again for another day of skiing! After several days of blizzarding in the surroundings, we expected the slopes would improve significantly from bare sheet rock. Daniel and Anna were taking their kids to ski again; they invited to drive us up to the ski resort again. By the way, this ski resort (Poiana Brasov) is where Nicole Kidman, Renee Zellwigger, and Jude Law stayed while filming the movie, “Cold Mountain.” The skiing was better today because of all the snow the day before, however, the visibility was limited because it was snowing once again. Not to worry, however, as Chris and I could always find each other because of our outfits, so they actually came in handy. We must add they were rather stylish. Where else can you look like a complete idiot and not have a care at all? During our second run down the mountain, we stopped at a chalet for lunch. During the lunch, we couldn’t help but notice that the television had CNN on and, despite the familiar environment and charm of a midday stop at a rustic ski-lodge cafeteria, we both still felt so far from home. It felt foreign to watch tv, let alone in English. We skied for a couple of hours more, delaying what

we both dreaded--another return to our least favorite place in the world (the train station) to catch a train to Sighisoara. As always, we had to rush on foot with ackward luggage to arrive in time for when the train was supposed to leave…However, instead…the train was 40 minutes late and we stood out in the freezing weather wondering why we had rushed. In summary, I guess Romanians are on the same time schedule as Italians. To our amazement, this time we saw approaching what looked to be a high speed train! The inside was decent enough, besides the forest green décor, but compared to the last few days, we felt like we had just boarded the most luxurious Eurostar train on the continent. We made it to Sighisoara just after dark, where we walked through a light drizzle of snow to our hotel, Casa Wagner (of course we had to stay there because of the name). Sighisoara is the home (birthplace) of the real-life “Count Dracula”. It was the smaller of the cities we stayed in during the trip, around the size of San Luis Obispo in the summertime, with a charming medieval walled Citadel upon the central hill. We stayed inside the walls of this medieval city center, which was no more than a few blocks in any direction. Inside the walls where a old gothic church, famous clock tower, two museums, a few tourist restaurants, and a handful of empty hotels. One very interesting part of Romania is that, even more than in France (where the typical “Gothic“ church architecture originates), all buildings have the strongest gothic characteristics in all of Europe, with steep sloping crooked roofs, turrets, spires, crenellations, and cobblestone streets. At night, you could still imagine villagers lighting torches and uniting to make the journey up any given hillside to lay siege to the castle of a monstrous Count! We found it to be quite charming, but like most of the places we visited on our journey, yet so very quiet. Once we settled into our new room, we decided to eat at the hotel’s restaurant downstairs. It was one of those awkward moments in life when you walk into a restaurant and ask for a table, and only moments later wish you could go back in time and not have entered in the first place--that moment when you realize that after dinner you will most surely wish you had just not eaten at all! But despite these feelings of a mistake soon-to-come, we couldn’t summon the courage to leave. There was only one other couple in the restaurant and our waitress could hardly understand a thing we said (yet who could blame her). Each time we interacted with her, it was just bizarre. We ordered the usual Romanian fare (as that was the only choice again). The food seemed more dismal than usual, but we could not stop laughing because with time we realized that the restaurant perfectly resembled a funeral home. The music that was playing was so bad that it was stuck in our heads until the next day. It was the perfect nightmare funeral music, and we sat there silently smirking, truly a last supper sort of ordeal. Day 9: Had we thought at the dinner the night before that we had reached the low of our culinary experiences, the morning wake-up would prove to be an awakening. We woke up to head to the dreadful funeral home (the hotel’s restaurant) for a complimentary breakfast. When we got there, it shocked us both. It took us all of three seconds to realize that the spread before was without a doubt the most horrifying, worthless breakfast a mind could imagine. The milk was frothy and chunky like bad ricotta cheese, the meat was strewn carelessly around the stainless steel bottom of the cafeteria tray system, showing off its scrumptious translucent blue tint. There was tea bags, but no hot water. Coffee at your own risk. We ended up toasting as many pieces of bread as we could put down with a simple spread of butter. There was bread, warm and oddly colored milk, what looked to be chocolate corn flakes, lettuce and baloney. No wonder Daniel and Anna were mystified as to why Americans are so passionate about breakfasts. Clearly the hotel and perhaps all of Romania had a very different idea of what a breakfast is suppose to be. We were mortified, but we ate a few pieces of bread and left as quickly as possible. Chris and I concluded that employees at hotels are not nearly as friendly and hospitable as in hostels (if you can call them that… more like private rooms). We found that our trip was so enjoyable because of people like Daniel and Anna, who would love to sit you down and get to know you and share lives. We thought that Chris would get a discount at Casa Wagner, or at least a wink for his own last name being Wagner, but he got nothing. We spent the early part of the afternoon walking around the town. We went inside the old gothic church at the peak of the hill, and to get there we had to walk up through a rather interesting (and im-

possibly long) wood-clad staircase / tunnel leading up to an isolated plateau outside the walls where the church, an old historic German schoolhouse and cemetery lay. Coming from a strong background in Italian church architecture, and having already seen most of Paris this year as well, it was hard for a simple Romanian Gothic church to make much of an impression. It was decidedly empty, with barren walls, two statues, a dismal choir, and a strange collection of ancient wooden dowry chests. The highlight, however, was the crypt chamber below the main alter, which essentially just led to a dark, damp prison-like chamber with the tiniest rays of sunlight reflecting in off of the snow on the ground. Back down inside the Citadel walls, there were still not many people out, except for a strange local musical marching band made up of men in tights and women in elaborate dresses. One of them had a haunting drum, which he would beat in rhythm as they would march around the block (seemingly following around and calling after anyone living in the tourist quarter, including ourselves). We decided it was appropriate to name them Dracula’s band. We would have laughed, but the prospect of being mugged (or forced to pay them for a service we did not desire) within the city walls was at that point a more powerful fear factor. We went to the only restaurant that looked normal, but it turned out to be a pizzeria. I guess we don’t have to explain what happened there. Let’s just say that pepperoni’s aren’t quite the same in Romania! To tell you the truth, there wasn’t much to do and by then we felt like rotting because we had living off of Romanian food for several days. We went back to our room and decided to relax. We watched a few hours of Manchester United highlights and the Lord of the Rings. By this point, we were both exhausted and ready to return to Italy. Italy to us looked like a beacon of luxury. Day 10: Today was our day to travel home. We left our hotel at 5 am to catch a train going to Cluj-Napoca. Cluj-Napoca is a bit like Budapest because it is a larger city with a more westernized feel. It is also a university town, so you will see young people everywhere. We walked from one side of the city to the other to wait for our ride to the airport, complements of Wizz Air. We had a over an hour to wait, so we went to a Greek pastry shop, and made the mistake of eating a few pieces of cake. But hey it was a clean bathroom. The Wizz Air van never came, so we did something that was unspeakable to Chris… we took a taxi. Chris was very concerned that it would be an expensive ride, but it only cost us about $10. The airport was one of the more shocking things that we had seen on our trip. The airport was all of one room filled with hundreds of people. It took us an hour just to check in. The security line was so pitifully run because it seemed that only one person went through every five minutes. They might have even taken their lunch break, it went that slow. Chris was infuriated, as I have only seen him a few times. His eyes were huge and his nostrils were flared for two hours. I was in shock as to how poorly this airport was run. As Americans, we are use to efficiency, so when you travel to other countries it is hard to relate to their casual, slow pace. We barely made our flight. But we arrived in beautiful sunny Rome. We took an hour and a half train ride on their great new high speed trains to Firenze. We were so happy to be home. It was a warm night and hundreds of people were in the street throwing confetti for carnivale.

In Summary Brooke’s thoughts: Romania was one of the most valuable experiences in my life. It might not have been the “fun” vacation, but it has been more memorable than most trips in my life. Romania is a beautiful country that has potential, it just needs time to recover from the obvious weights of Communism. I am so thankful that Chris took me to this country because he pushed me out of my comfort zone, and I was able to gain opinions and feelings that I had never experinced before. I have never been so happy or proud to be an American. America is a truly extraordinary country ( I appreciate clean toilets, toilet seat covers, and soap more than ever!). I can now fully grasp how special home is and what it means to me. I think that it was one of the hardest challenges for us as a couple as well, but we prevailed! I think if you can get though a week of Romania with your significant other than you are set for life.

Chris’s thoughts: First off, let me just say that I pushed Brooke to her limits and beyond, and she responded well! I am so proud of the progress she has made in her first few months here, and with her newfound experience, I hope in the future she will become an expert traveller. Well, this certainly wasn’t a vacation in the typical sense of the word, but I think we really expanded our knowledge of the world, and spent some time in areas that haven’t seen as much tourism as the rest of Europe, although there are so many interesting things to see, diverse histories, strange and often delicious food, and friendly people. We had our share of ackward, scary, or just strange moments, but looking back now it is all the more humorous! Although in the future I would save such trips for better times of the year, weather-wise, it did allow us to see the only snow of this year-which equalled skiing, “making of the sauna”, snowball fights, and beautiful scenery. One of the most important aspects of completely this trip for me, besides the fact that me and Brooke survived eachother, was that we were able to make things work in places much more extreme than either of us had ever been. It was nice to know that at least in this point of our lives we are as adventurous as we hoped we would be (although we can always improve!). Romania and Hungary are two very different places, and unique each in their own ways. It was nice to finally meet someone in Europe (since all the other countries I’ve ever been to up until that point had failed at this) that actually still is enamored with America, glad to meet us, and interested in what we have to say. I would definitely go back, especially to Romania as it begins to improve its image under the EU. There is unlimited potential there for budget recreation activities, especially so many beautiful mountains for hiking. The scenery in Transylvannia is as beautiful and mystical as it is hyped up to be. Unfortunately, it won’t be on the same monetary system were I ever to return! Meanwhile, Hungary is the new Prague, and who knows for how much longer it will stay undiscovered... for anyone considering to make a trip to Europe anytime soon, just be thoughtful to the reality that many countries that for the longest time have been off the radar might be ripe for discovery-I really believe that now, after having spent some time outside my “tradition European comfort zone”. Although the stereotypical idea about Rome, Paris, and London (which are all great cities, don’t get me wrong) entices every American at one point or another to make the pilgrimage, the reality of tourist treatment there is often very disappointing (if you expect hospitality at all). These “off the beaten trail” types of new destinations, alternatively, often welcome you with open arms. This is a feeling that doesn’t soon disappear, and I will always be greatful (no matter how cold the weather was) that Eastern Europe showed itself to be full of warm hospitality and charm.

Brooke’s Picasa skills: Photomontage of the “tree of life” and Roman Forum

Brooke can cook!: highlights from cooking class

pictures from other trips week trip to paris for the new year

...just minutes before the New Year!

Interior dome of the Sacre Coeur

The Louvre

Monet, Musee Dâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Orsay (thinking of you, mom!)

Cathedral of Notre Dame

Notre Dame: Interior

Notre Dame: main facade and piazza

st. eustache and sculptured head, lâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ecoute

Pompidou Centter at night

Amongst the dead: Paris Catacombs

pompidou centre

silly

Parisian advertisement tastefully redone

Eiffel Tower

Firenze

and

Siena

Firenze and brooke

palazzo pubblico and bell tower, torre del mangia, siena

facade of san miniato in firenze

duomo in siena

brooke and chris at sienaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s medici fortress

inside sienaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s duomo

CSU Field Trip: Ferrara, Padova, Vicenza,

and

Mantova

Villa Maser - Ninja Team Unite! (by Palladio)

Villa Emo - grounds

Haunting sunset at Villa Emo (also by Palladio)

Brooke outside Villa Maser

Outside Villa Emo

View of Dolomites, from outside of Brion Cemetery (Treviso area)

Sunset over the Dolomites

Funeral chapel skylight in Scarpa’s cemetery

Palladio’s Villa Rotunda, the model villa of Italian architecture

“Ghosted” image, at cemetery, when water got into camera lense

chiesa di

Sant’Andrea di Leon Battist’Alberti in Mantova

weekend trip to

the colosseum

Rome

in between the roman forum and the colosseum

Basilica of Maxentius, inside Roman Forum

courtyard sculpture in vatican museums

corridor inside the vatican museums

st. peters (itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s that big...)

trevi fountain

sky above st. peterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cathedral

dome of san carlo alle quattro fontane by borromini

more of

Firenze

view from top of duomo, firenze

climbing up, inside of duomo, firenze

facade of duomo, firenze

boboli gardens, firenze (reflection from water)

sunset at fiesole

view of firenze from fiesole (hilltop town next to firenze)

wine tasting weekend in

Montalcino -

famous for the

Brunello

biking in montalcino, wine country

vineyards in montalcino

front of biondi santi winery, montalcino

Montalcino

Partita

Calcio: Fiorentina,

Altre Cose Interesanti

soccer game in firenze, fuorentina vs palermo

pasta left-overs disaster after the game

our travel guide for all our trips

chrisâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s idea for an add-on version of letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s go: locations, prices, and quality of restrooms in

Europe (an inside joke of sorts)

CSU Field Trip: Southern Italy

villa adriana near rome

top of tallest building in italy (the jolly hotel... napoli in background

view from hotel room in napoli (naples)

best preserved greek temples in world, paestum

port with cruise ships in napoli

greek temples in paestum

30 stories up)with

pompei and mount vesuvius

one of

2,000 who died in pompei when vesuvius erupted

inside well-preserved roman house in herculaneum (next to amalfi coast)

mosaic decoration in a roman house in pompei

Flagellation of christ by Caravaggio, museo di capodimonte in napoli

Miscellaneous Renderings: Fall Semester Final Project

“un centro recreativo per la citta di Firenze, sull’Arno”

Brief Final Summary (not just the Winter Trip...): Our Closing Thoughts: First and foremost, we must give a huge “thank you” to our respective parents for all their continuous “support” and for putting up with our frantic and isolated lifestyles. We hope that even they can share now some of our appreciation for functional, modern internet and other modes of communication (like our working American mail system). Next, we thank all our other family members and friends (who we miss) that put up with not talking to us regularly and wondering what the heck we are doing all this time. That will be explained some day in the future. And finally, we thank you all for having the patience to hopefully one day read this far into the letter, and for waiting so long for it to come. You can blame Chris in particular for this, since Brooke wrote the bulk of the writing, and was foolish enough to trust Chris to ever get it put together in a reasonable amount of time. But as Chris always says, quality takes time! We have had a wonderful, completely fulfilling experience together these last three months, both growing as individuals and becoming a stronger couple. We know this has been a once in a lifetime opportunity, and we are both very sad to see it come to an end. Italy is an incredible country, of course with both highs and lows for each of us. It has given us so much: new perspectives, travel savvyness, culinary delight, language skills... adapting to this new culture has enriched us and given us new dimensions, that hopefully we can somehow impart back on all of you at home. It makes us want to travel the rest of the world (well, some parts...and with fake monopoly money instead of dollars at this point). We will both be glad to come home, each in our own good time. Brooke will be returning to San Luis Obispo for her Spring Quarter, and looks forward to bringing her newfound enthusiasm home and cooking for everyone! Meanwhile, Chris has two fully-packed months left before he leaves on May 31st. He is torn between wanting to go home and staying forever (but this is usual at this point in a study abroad year). Upon his return, unfortunately, his immediate life is still a blank. But in the meantime, he will be looking forward to his parents visiting over Spring Break, warm weather and sunshine again, learning to cook more Tuscan soups, and as always improving that Italian language thing. He still wants to go to Sicily, the island of Elba, and possibly make a trip up to Lake Garda in the North to see his old friend Carolin (and her boyfriend Julian), an old study abroad student from Germany, who went to his highschool senior year. While there are no more school field trips planned, there is an architecture field trip in May to a smaller, isolated town called Ascoli Piceno, where students from an Italian Architecture school will work together with us on a week-long project. He will continue playing soccer (and hopefully win that spring tournament coming up), catch up with all that school work, and enjoy as much as possible the short days remaining. Again, we thank you all for taking the time to read this travel journal, and hope you enjoy the pictures and laugh at the stories. Have a wonderful quarter for those of you who are students, and the rest, well... keep on working (or truckin’)! Looking forward to seeing you this Spring or Summer. Distinti Saluti dall’Italia! Christopher Wagner and Brooke Chandler