Fall Break Extravaganza

So, last week was fall break. It was pure madness, so I'm going to go day by day.
Thursday:
The week we were leaving, we had two papers due, so I had to finish those early since Jamie, Nida, and I were leaving Thursday night. So, we bring our luggage to class (they had backpacks and I had a small carry-on sized thing so we could put all our liquids and check it), turn in our papers, and leave for the tube to get to the shuttle bus that takes us to the Luton airport, about an hour outside of London. Then we fly to Barcelona, or technically Gerona, and take another shuttle bus from that airport to central Barcelona (about an hour long ride). We were stuck on there with these drunk, obnoxious Irish students who kept singing and yelling right behind and next to me. And people say Americans are the obnoxious ones (they are, but its not an exclusive thing). Once at the bus station in Barcelona, we had to find the Metro and take it out to our hostel, which turns out to be on some hill in the country (technically the suburbs, but unlike any suburbs of my experience). We trek up the hill and check in around midnight Barcelona time. We get into our room, which has one bathroom were oddly enough, the toilet is in the same space as the shower, nothing between, so after someone showers, the whole floor is wet. There were several rows of bunks, and lockers at the foot. There was a girl in one of the beds we were assigned to, and trying to convey that is when I used the most Spanish that trip. We sort of hung out in the lounge and met this Canadian guy and some Spanish girls, but they were obnoxious and Nida had pulled an all-nighter in order to finish her paper, so we soon went to bed (in newly assigned beds). You had to rent the sheets, so we just slept on the beds, covering our pillows with our coats. Some girl nearby kept snoring, and it was kinda cold (as it was in all our hostels) but other than that it was fine.
Friday:
We got up sometime around noon, showered, and left for the city. We went straight to La Rambla, which is just a long open street with shops, clubs, and markets, and kiosks and street performers set up in the middle. We explored the market, where there were an awful lot of fruit stands (we got interesting drinks made from guava and some pinkish purple Thai fruit with black seeds) and sheep heads and bunnies. On La Rambla they sell a bunch of pets, too, like rabbits, birds, and ferrets. We walked down towards the sea, where it was beautiful and warm, and then we shopped for a while in the mall there (we needed to get clothes for clubbing later, so there was a purpose! and it was cheaper than in London, of course). We got some pitas at this Döner kebab place, which is apparently a chain of Turkish style restaurants all over Europe (we saw them in Rome and our friends saw them in Berlin). The guy working there spoke English, had a Turkish mother and Palestinian father, grew up in Budapest, and works in Barcelona. He gave us the names of a few bars and club to check out, and was generally fun to talk to. We went to the Sagrada Familia and took lots of pictures, then stopped at a cafe and sat outside with our (really, really good) cafe con leches. After wandering around a bit more, we took the Metro back to our hostel to change and rest a bit. We knew that the Metro closed at midnight and didn't open again until 5am, so we knew we had to go all night. We tried to find this restaurant that my friend Justyna recommended (she lived in Barcelona one summer), but gave up and went to a tapas place that was probably nearby. It was really good, though. And while we were looking for a place to eat, we passed the Casa Mila, and sadly didn't have our cameras with us. Then we went to a bar recommended by the aforementioned kebab man, which was cool. We tried ordering drinks in Spanish/sign language English, and the guy was American, so it was embarrassing. This happened all over the place, we'd try to speak Spanish, and they would respond in perfect English. It got kinda annoying, since we looked like fools. Anyway, afterwards around 2 am, we left the bar and headed back down La Rambla to a club we got a flyer for, passing an old couple along the way. In Barcelona, dinner is around 9 or 10, bars close around 2 or 3, clubs close around 5 or 6, the Metro opens at 5, and people have afterparties until 7 or 9. Its crazy. At the club, which was actually several in the same area, it was really fun just dancing because all the doors were open and there wasn't too many people, so we didn't get all sweaty and gross, which usually happens in clubs. We sort of talked to this fun British girl and this guy who claimed to be Brazilian but didn't understand Jamie when she spoke to him in Portugese. We walked back to La Rambla with some Swedish kids who were only 16 and made us feel old. We looked at the time and it was already 4:30, and we didn't even realize it was that late, so staying out all night in Barcelona is definitely not hard to do.
Saturday:
We didn't wake up until late of course, since we were out so late, but we went to go see the Plaça d'Espanya and Palau Nacional and the parks around there. We ate more kebabs because that was the cheapest thing in the area. It was really beautiful, and you can see the whole city from up next to the palace. There was supposed to be a fountain light show, but we came the week the fountain was off for cleaning or something. Mostly we just walked around, and then we ate at this supposedly American style place that wasn't really (by the way, we wanted to eat at a Spanish place, but the neighborhood we were in didn't really have anything, and we didn't know where to go). We went back to the hostel and went to bed pretty early since we had to check out at 4:45am in order to catch the first Metro and then shuttle bus to the airport.
Sunday:
We woke up so early and got all our stuff together, only to attempt checking out and not being able to find anyone at the "24 hour" desk, so we left our key in the room and a hasty note in very poor Spanish. Then we got to the station to find that the online trip planner had told us there was a train at 5:09, but the first one actually came at 5:37. We were panicking, and running through the transfer stations, and then to the bus station, and we still missed our bus. The next one wasn't for another 45min, so we had more waiting and panicking. Finally, we got on the bus and to the airport, and everything was just fine. There was practically no one in the Gerona airport, security was easy, and they didn't stamp our passports or anything upon leaving (or coming in, for that matter, we were kinda sad). Then we flew to Rome, again no stamping of passports (*tear*), got on another shuttle bus, which took about 45min to get to the main station in Rome, Termini, and then again on the Metro to our hostel, which again was kind of out of the way, though nowhere near as bad as the Barcelona one (it was still in the city, for one thing). We checked in and the man there spoke perfect English, of course. We got the first of several rather bad Italian sandwiches, which are simply some basic things slapped on bread, very dry. Also, some of them randomly have eggs in them, and the egg yolks are a weird orange color. Then we went down to the Colosseum and the Vittoriano, and walked around in that area, watching the sun set and eating grapes from this street vendor (they were sooo good). We also got some pastries from a bakery, and then went across the river to the Piazza Trastevere to meet Jamie's friend Arnaldo, who is one of the UofC students in the Rome program. He took us to a good restaurant for pizza, and showed us the hotel the UofC students were staying in (apparently the Rome program is really disorganized, so they get a hotel with daily cleaning instead of a crappy dorm), and gave us quite a few good pointers on getting around Rome. Such as: Italian men are aggressive, just ignore them (or say a few choice words in Italian); Rome is a walkable city (all the best parts you can walk through, from one end to the other, in less than an hour if you don't stop); bars have tables of really good food, so just buy one drink and snack on food there instead of spending a lot of money for a full dinner; water is really cheap and pop is really expensive (bottled water is about 50cents Euro, cheaper than any of the other countries we were in); its cheaper to eat or drink at the bar in cafes, they charge you more if you sit; don't order cappuccino after noon, you'll get it but be scorned; a cafe is like an espresso shot. From my own experience: for fast food order pizza instead of sandwiches; buy at fruit stands; a cafe americano is more like a double espresso; cafe latte is the best way to go even though they often don't heat the milk so the drink is lukewarm and served in glasses instead of mugs; hotels give out free maps with all the sites and streets you need (though its not quite to scale, the basic plan is the same); gelatto is always good; avoid public transportation, not only because its kinda dirty, but also because at rush hours people cram in there so badly they have to have security guards pulling people out so the doors can close (even though there is a train every ten minutes or less), and cabs aren't too expensive if you can't walk.
Monday:
The Rome hostel was cold because they had the window open until I managed to crawl up onto a chair and close it, and then even when the heat was supposedly turned on, it didn't seem to be doing anything. The room we were in was long and narrow and painted dark blue, so it seemed even smaller. My bed made tons of noise if I moved even a little, and there were 12 beds in the room altogether. That first night there were quite a few people there, all of whom went to bed around 11pm, which, especially after Barcelona, seemed ridiculous. There was one shower in the room and then one in the hallway. The shower in the room flooded easily and the water went cold as well, but we discovered in subsequent nights the other one was bigger, hotter, and the drain actually worked. On Monday when we finally woke up, we went to the Vatican City, where we unsuspectingly wound up in the line and paying 4 Euros to climb up to the cuppola of St. Peters, which otherwise we would not have done. We payed to walk up, since it was more to take the elevator, and even then there were 375 steps everyone had to walk up. It was really narrow and cramped and Jamie started freaking out from claustrophobia because people ahead of us kept stopping in the worst places to catch their breath. It was a nice view though. Perhaps not worth 4 Euros. Afterwards we walked around inside the church, and then found the Sistine Chapel, where we discovered it has weird hours and had to come back before noon the next day. We got some pizza and ate it in the St. Peters Piazza, and then walked down to the river and saw the Castel San Angelo, crossed the river and through the Piazza Navona, to the Pantheon and the Trevi fountain. We had some gelatto there, and then went back to the hostel. We decided not to go to the club Arnaldo had recommended because we were too tired and the Metro closed too early (like, 11), so we bought some food and wine nearby and talked to two guys, one Canadian and one Mexican, who studied in Vienna, and then we slept.
Tuesday:
We woke up relatively early and went to see the Sistine Chapel, which I actually thought would be bigger (the actual chapel, anyway, not the museum), but was of course still amazing. Then we took the Metro to the Piazza del Popolo, and we walked around in the park above that, debating if we wanted to rent bikes or go carts to ride around. After finally deciding not to over a cup of taboo cappuccino, we headed to the Spanish Steps right around sunset. We walked down the uber posh shopping street (think D&G, Prada, Chanel, places with security guards and snooty salespeople). We went to a pub for dinner and ran into a group of middle-aged women from Chicago, and then we tried to find a place to go out, but only found a very densely populated bar where we had some truly revolting apple martinis. We talked to a few Italians, who spoke better English than we did Italian (of course), but there didn't seem to be anywhere else to go to dance. We got some amazing calzones at this place where the man who owned the shop told us he lived in Chicago for a while. Small world.
Wednesday:
We had meant to go to Florence or Venice, but it was too expensive, so we didn't. We were quite bored with Rome by this point (sad, I know), and we just wandered around mostly in places we had already seen. We met up with Arnaldo and some other UofC students later on, and went to a few bars, the first of which had an amazing table of food, and the second of which was sadly American (though admittedly they had the extra draw of being virtually the only place in Italy that knew what cranberry juice was, let alone had it in stock). We went very briefly to a club, but left again. It was obviously just a place where Italian guys go to pick up American girls, and we were kinda annoyed that it was a recommended place. We're trying to get AWAY from Americans!
Thursday:
Since we had to check out by 10am, we had to get up and pack early, and actually wound up not paying for the last night we stayed in the hostel because we had stayed the extra night in between and I guess wires got crossed since we obviously didn't have to check in again. We went to the Termini station and checked our bags and just spent the rest of the day wandering around the area, trying to kill time until our bus left for the airport. Nevertheless, we still took an earlier bus (though not intentionally) and had more waiting to do at the airport. By this point we were sick of sandwiches, our clothes, and homesick for London. But it was onward to France, and more shuttle buses and evening Metro navigation with heavy bags. In Paris, we finally got to the Metro, and got off at the right stop. Jamie says, "Oh, there's our hostel!...Oh, no!" It was a blinking neon light. Since its midnight, we're like, alright, we'll stay there tonight and if it is truly horrible, we'll find something else. Well, it truly was that horrible. I had to pay the full three nights we were scheduled to stay in cash. We got to the room, and although we had a room with 3 beds, the beds had saggy mattresses, filthy blankets, wadded fabric under the sheet masquerading as a pillow, and were wobbly, squeaky, and unstable. We had a sink and there was a shower and two toilets down the hall. There was no heat, the walls were purple and the trim and doors were black. We slept fitfully with the lights on, with as many clothes on as we could, covered with our coats instead of blankets. It was still freezing, and Jamie killed a roach in the night.
Friday:
The next morning we got out of there in record time to attempt to forget the place, and went to go see Notre Dame, the Tuilleries gardens, down the Champs Elysees to the Arc de Triomph, back to the Louvre (where people under 26 get in free Friday nights) where it was actually still crowded (the Louvre is apparently an acceptable social scene for college aged students). Also, I swear I saw someone I went to high school with in passing, which was incredibly weird, especially since my graduating class was only 26 people. I also saw our good friend Mona, even though we only went by out of obligation, none of us are particularly fond of her. After about 3 hours we couldn't take anymore, though we had gotten through a good deal of what we wanted to see. We walked along the Seine to the Eiffel tower, sat underneath drinking hot chocolate and trying to ignore this group of really, really obnoxious American teenage girls, and then went back to the hostel. When we got there the lights didn't work, so we started calling around at hotels, trying to find one that would let us check in that night around 1am. Finally we found one, and we took a cab as quickly as possible. We tried to get a refund, but of course, didn't get one. At the hotel, the man at the desk was really nice, and we showered with clean towels (we'd been carrying the same towels the whole trip, and in between hostels they didn't ever really get a chance to dry and were rather rank by the time we go to Paris) and hot water and slept on clean sheets and it was AMAZING. The hotel wasn't even that nice, but compared to the hostel, it was pure heaven. And more or less affordable for us. And by more or less, I mean less, but more than anything else.
Saturday:
We woke up really late, and our hotel was right by the Opera building, so we went there and over to the Galleries de LaFayette, a big shopping mall that was really crowded because it was a holiday, but it was an awesome 7 floors or so of consumer goodness. I bought some convertable mitten/gloves that I've been looking for forever, and debated way too long over a hat that I wound up not getting. We went to go see the Luxembourg gardens, but got there when it was closing, so we walked around it and found a nice little restaurant nearby that served typically French food. Our waiter was fun and there was another group of Americans there (can't escape them) that we briefly spoke to. We then headed back pretty early to our hotel room to watch some French tv and get ready for our flight the next day.
Sunday:
Took the Metro to the airport and flew to London, where we greeted happily a Marks&Spencer, and not so happily the pound, and shuttled and tubed back to the dorm, where we promptly went to Tesco to buy sausage, eggs, bread, bacon, and OJ to make the big breakfast we'd been craving throughout our trip. Then it was hours on the internet, catching up on email and celebrity gossip (ahem, I mean, important world news?), and early to bed for classes starting again today with Canterbury Tales and Christina von Nolcken!