I leave tomorrow afternoon for San Francisco. I feel very antsy like there is a lot to do but I don’t know what it is or what I’m forgetting…
No, its just that I have no idea what I am doing. My bag is not even halfway packed. In fact, I really dont even have a bag yet. I found my brothers old school backpack and that looks pretty much like what I want. Its old and ugly and has holes all over. I certainly wouldn’t want to steal it. And it fits all of my things perfectly. The only problem is that it fits everything too perfectly. Two shorts, two tshirts, 5 pair socks, 5 boxers, toiletries, an entire medicine cabinet, 4 travel guides, a notebook, a laptop computer, a power converter, 4 large plastic baggies, a camera, some powerbars, a passport and some money. Thats it. I won’t have any room to fit anything else that I may pick up along the way. And I forsee that as an potentially annoying problem. Well, its all part of the adventure right?
But I found a decent camera bag. Its pretty nondescript. I tried to rough it up a bit. I rubbed sandpaper across its black polyester front. Spilled some paint on it. Tore off the labels and scratched small grooves across its cheap plastic buckles. Its looks alright and it fits my camera well. It kind of looks like a purse though. So I will be wearing a nice faux polyester purse around my neck for a majority of my travels. Go Gabe.
Start what you have finished. I realize I left off somewhere in Mumbai last time so I should probably go over the rest of the trip with you before I head off and my emails become sporadic and unpredictable in both length and literary cohesion. Since my last email I found out a little more about Mumbai from a fellow St Regis employee. He was quite surprised I was going to be visiting his hometown and especially that I was going alone. He gave me some good pointers (like places not to go alone) as well as a list of items to see and do. They include taking a boat ride to the Alfanta Caves, a visit to the Nehru Planetorium and a walk through Marine Bay. He says I should be arriving at the end of the Monsoon which is good because the weather should be bearable and they might even have some good festivals going on.
After my breif two days in India I take a long flight to the cheapest gateway into Europe, Paris. I’m not especially excited about Paris. I have been there before a few times and I think its a rather dull affair by now. We have had our fling, Paris and I, and it has left me with a dull taste of stale crackers and smelly cheese. The cheapest flight out of Paris to Italy was on RyanAir via Venice two days later on August 28th. I booked the flight for 19euro which (after taxes) came out to around 42euro.
Venice as it turns out is about 40 minutes away from Padova where my friend Andrea is from. I haven’t been in direct contact with Andrea for a few weeks but the plan is to visit him for a few days in his hometown and then somehow make my way to Dubrvnik, Croatia where I have a flight waiting for me on September 8th. I’ve heard Ljubjana, Slovenia is a nice stop along the way so I might spend a day or two there. No plans really. But then, thats all part of the fun.
The plane waiting for me on September 8th in Croatia is bound for Bratislava, Slovakia. I had originally planed this flight to go into Budapest but I was convinced by my cousin to go to Bratislava instead. It used to be the capital of Czechleslovakia before the country broke in two and it is famed for being by far the largest city in Eastern Europe. The city is an amateur hour train ride from Vienna, Austria and from there three hours more to Prague, Czech. I am very very excited about visiting Prague. It is supposed to be the Eastern Europe traveler’s mecha. I might even have a friend to visit there which is always fantastic. A night spent with friends is a night well spent. From Prague I have to make my back to Bratislava by September 15th for a flight to Barcelona.
Ahhhh, Barcelona. My sweet Angel, Barcelona. Hide me saftely, in a soft place. Lost and rolling, drifting loosely, through Catalunya, no occupation. My Barcelona. I cannot wait to make it to Barcelona. I have so many people to visit and so many steps to recover. I planned this journey specifically so I could reach Barcelona on the verge of its epic city-wide festival, La Merce. The time of El Corre Foc, los gigantes, fireworks, cava, paella, tortilla espanola. Oh the beauty and debauchery of Barcelona in late September. Twelve days in Barcelona and I go back to Paris for one night. Again, it was the cheapest flight out of Europe.
Paris to New York for two splendid nights discovering America’s greatest city. I have some friends doing the Teach for America Program and I hope they will not be too busy to visit with me during my brief stay in Manhatten.
And then it will end my friends. And then I will go back to work. I will make up for all of my foolishness. I will spend the rest of my life working hard to earn that mortgage. To pay that car. To feed the kids and keep the wife happy. And I will look back on these days. And I will smile. I will have seen the world. And I can be satisfied to let the world take its turn traveling me.
Wax poetic.
Gabe
