I am trying.

Discovering Videos

My guess is I have about 6G of pictures taken from four weeks of travel. Excessive, for sure. I thought I'd try to make slides for better viewing. Maybe make interesting transtitions between pictures. How about some music? So here's a first attempt. It's a work in progress, but it goes with the overall theme of my life these days -- a work in progress.

This video is of Rome, Italy.

Cheers! and Sadness

I went to a jazz club tonight with Martina. It's my last full day in Prague and I spent the day wandering around the city, tracing my now familiar route in between the different districts. While waiting for my tram, decidedly sad, someone came up behind me and asked me for directions and I had an instant fix of glee. I must not look so lost for this man to ask me where the Metro station was. He was puzzled. Oh it's an easy mistake, I say. This is MalostransKE Namesti. You are probably looking for MalostransKA which is the tram stop for transferring to the Metro subway and if you follow the tram tracks, it will lead you to it, it's the next stop. Off they go. And then I hop on the next tram which turns out to be the wrong one, the #22 (I was supposed to take #12). I was so smug with my direction giving, I didn't bother looking at the signs. I hopped out of the tram when I realized my mistake and found myself at Narodni Trida train station. No problem. I know this will take me to Smichov where I can then pick up my missed #12. There are not enough words to describe the irony that the moment you feel you finally got the hang of a place is exactly the time you also must also leave it. Life is funny that way.

The language continues to baffle me. I can't make any real connections with the words other than those I know by rote. Na zdravi (Cheers!) sound so much like Nadrazi (train station). Although I must say when I find the right train station for where I want to go much like ealier, I do feel like pouring myself a pint of their fine Pilsner Urquell, holding out my pint in the air and saying Nadrazi! I'm going to miss Juraj and Martina and Estee. I'm going to miss this place.

Castle Quarter

A truly gorgeous day in Prague. Decided to make it a Pradskyhrad (Castle Quarter) day. Seems like a nice day for castles and this being the land of the castles only makes it more appropriately so. I hop on a tram to Poholerec and strart my day at the Monastery. Skipped the library and instead went for the gardens that promised a view that did not disappoint. There is the Prague Castle on the horizon towards the left and below I could pick out the Charles Bridge and Mala Strana on one side and Stare Mesto on the other. The promontory has a garden that winds down. I sit here for a while and imagine living in one of the homes by the promontory with this amazing view. What a view. I head for the Castle guided by the Spires of the St. Vitus Cathedral, passing through Loretta Square on the way. I stopped to check out the St. Loretta Church and was disappointed that you had to pay to get in. I am starting to have a very strong opposition ot churches that require admission. I mean it's a church first and foremost, yes? As I was walking away though, I hear the melodic church bells and I am grateful for the sweet memory of its sound. I trudge on and follow the streets further and a few street turns later, there is Pradzky Hrad, the babička all castles. The Castle grounds is home to the Old Royal Palace, the St. Vitus Cathedral, the Basilica of St. George. Everyone is walking around with heads craned upwards. It is dizzying. The largeness of the space is intimidating, so i chose to focus on St. Vitus Cathedral. This church is chokful of ornamentation. There are sculptures of vultures, monsters and distressed men and women jutting out from every corner of each column. It's actually quite scary and I wonder why a church would choose such an approach. Not exactly very welcoming. Makes me think of What Would Jesus Do campaign. I am not kidding. What would Jesus do? I have absolutely no idea. Inside its more solemn. There's a stained glass by Alfonso Mucha that is beautiful. I hilke the 287 steps up the tower and the view up there was worth each step. Below the tourists look like ants making bee lines through the massive grounds. I stay here a while trying to pick out the sights I've been to throughout the city. I even attempt to sketch a portion of the cathedral spires.
ěčšřžýáíéúůóťďň

Name My Blog: Estee

I totally chickened out and didn't venture out today. Instead, I re-watched episodes of my favorite cheesy Filipino soap opera, Maging Sino Ka Man and attempted to make adobo and failed, and read blogs. I won't even attempt to try to give you a range of the topics out there, just that there are so many. So here's a game I'd like to call Name That Blog where you think of a good name for a blog of someone you know. For example, here's Estee. There is not a day that goes by that this girl is not wearing anything pink. Therefore, I nominate the name Pink Is Not Not My Favorite Color. The double negative is a nod to her genius parents.

Český Krumlov

Twenty Questions

Prior to coming here, I only knew two things about Czech Republic. The first is that it is one of two countries formerly known as Czechoslovakia and that Juraj is from here. Obviously not a whole lot. But that's part of the inertia for travelling, yes? One question leads to another and hopefully I will understand more.

Because I had a lot of time here, I was prepared to uncover Prague in pieces. I would allow the place to lead me to an understanding that I can take with me, hopefully for life. I have a million and twenty questions. The poor Atlas family. By the time I leave, it will be relief not to answer so many.

One of the first catchy phrases I read in guidebooks about Prague was that it was largely undamaged by the war. Considering its location to Poland that was ravaged, demolished beyond recognition, this is intriguing. How did that happen? Why do they have so many castles? Did they export beer under Communist Rule? Why is Charles IV, the one for whom the most famous bridge over the Vltava River is named, so important? What is with the historical propensity to throw people from a window when they are not doing so well in public office? That and burning. I've read of two important historical events that involved burning of men. Where can I get the recipe for Czech Honey Cake (so yummy)? Why are there so many bad men haircuts? I must get to the bottom of all this. But first, let me get some coffee and some Czech honey cake.

Ahoj from Prague, Czech Republic

I'm in Prague of the Czech Republic, land of the accessorized alphabets. Ester, the 7-year old daughter of Juraj and Martina, my host is assigned to check on my progress for pronouncing the letter ř which is an rzh sound that you somehow initiate from the back of your throat. It's actually fun trying. I've learned a few of the more common phrases, mostly for the pleasantries. Good day. Thank you. Yes. No. Where is the toilet? But trying to make sense of the language by seeing parallels to my own language set is very difficult. Still I'd like to learn as much as I can since I have a ready audience who are encouraging, or more like entertained, by my efforts.

I love Prague. It's harder to describe why and it's not because reasons are not obvious. Maybe because my initial impressions of it is that of stately elegance and comfortable simplicity. It feels over the top to voice such affection with exuberance. There are no excesses here and it invites the same reserved response.

Vienna Take Two

This is what my brain feels like sometimes. This piece is called House Attack from the modern art museum of Vienna. The house is suspended from the actual building. Doesn't that just make you do a double-back. This is why I like modern art and modern art museums. I don't necessarily think I'd want the pieces hanging in my living room, but they sure make for interesting conversation.

Vienna Day 2 was much better. There was sun for one thing and I got a good night's sleep the night before which prepared me for handling the gargantuan map of Vienna filled with street names that are long and vowel-deprived. So I take pride in being able to navigate my way to Das Mobel, a coffeeshop/furniture show room that my friend Nada recommended based on an article she read in the newspaper. I'm sure Vienna has a lot to offer. The Museum Quartier is right up my alley. All the museums in one place. Genius. But I think I'll keep Das Mobel as the highlight of the trip, however obscure that might be. The idea is simple. Take advantage of Vienna's coffe culture and showcase local modern furniture to customers. Customers get to use the furniture. A try before you buy approach. Where else can you find menu (shown above) that consists of plywood benches and continental breakfast. So when you're sitting on the Stingray chair (shown left) while munching on croissants and a cup of coffee, you can contemplate on the comfort level of your buns. Genius.

Day 17: Vienna, Austria

I'm a little grumpy today. I'm in Vienna, land of froilan Maria, and frankly I don't feel like belting into song as she does. There are no hills alive with the sound of music. Instead it is cold and freezing and the hostel I'm staying at feels like a mental institution, a labryrinth of rooms within rooms with an austere and cold ambiance. Plus I think I'm coming down with a cold. So I head back to the hostel to sleep this funk out. Maybe I should count Vienna as a loss and just accept that.

Back at the hostel, I run into my German roommate who is also sleeping off a headache and she cheers me on. I rest for a bit and think about good things which from this trip are many. Let me enumerate a few:

1. Amazing sling bag from Patagonia -- perfection. It is the size of an small woman's purse but you won't believe how this thing stretches to accomodate your needs. Currently, this little bag contains two books, watercolor pencils, a journal, a sketchbook, a wallet, a map, a scarf, a hat, and a pair of gloves. When I went to the farmer's market, it contained cheese, three clementines, a pear and a bunch of laurel leaves. When I went hiking, along with the usual accoutourements of money, journal and books, it carried a waterbottle, a towel, and change of clothes for when I had planned to swim at Monterosso. It rests comfortably on the back but when in a big city where I'm warned of pickpockets, the slingbag comfortably rests in my chest.

2. Rick Steve's Guidebook. Like having a friend tell you what to do, where to eat, where to stay and even what to say. Grazie.

3. My Canon digital camera with full manual controls. Makes me feel like pro.

4. Mandy's sleep sack. Don't quite trust that hostels are clean so sleep sack provides not just extra layer of warmth but also peace of mind from albeit flimsy protection from possible cooties.

5. Smart wool walking socks and smart wool long sleeve shirts. If you go to any of the adventure shops, the pitch about smart wool is that 1) it is warm and 2) it controls odors. Let me tell you that the second attribute is its truest selling point.

And so everybody join me ---cue music--- when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad..... I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel so baaaaaaaaaddd......

To Vienna

Travelling from Ljubljana to Vienna, Austria. It was good to spend a relaxing day in this small college town of Ljubljana. The Peruvian-American from the hostel complained that it was boring, was glad that he was leaving, and thinks I'm a loser for staying an entire day but while I feel that I am ready to move on to my next destination, I don't share his views at all. First, Ljubljana is not boring and I'm not a loser.

The train ride from Ljubjana to Vienna is picturesque. It is late fall, early winter here and the landscape is filled with mountains and rivers and chimneyed homes smoking away the cold. The Slovenes still live close to the land. The houses by the tracks follow a pattern of low to the ground homes with a grapevine and vegetable patch, providing their steady supply of wine and cabbage. Both passions of the Slovenes affirmed by what I saw from my walks yesterday. Wine tasting at 11AM, remember. By 2pm a drunk Slovenian man was licking the bridge from which those wine barrels rested. It's a little sad, but every town has a madman. In a strange way, it adds to the charm.

The train makes a short stop at a station named Celje. The letter j is a y in these parts. This much I gathered. Lost of cest-, -ova, -och- combinations here. Looking forward to a stop named Spielfeld-Straß. I don't know how to pronounce that last letter, looks like a math symbol to me but I'm sure it requires an acrobatic tongue and throat formation that when I try always sounds like I'm halfway between a hacking cough and a sneeze. I guess this is par for the course. My Tagalog language has those ng and mga sounds that confounds many. The trains are accurate here and at exactly 13:00 we arrive at the train station with the mystical ß and I realize that it's not as complicated as it sounds. Quite simply a sharper s sound that is combined with a z. I also note that this is the border in which my passport gets checked and the from the controller I hear the slow transition in language cuing me for my arrival to -gasse and -strasse land.

Day 14: Ljubljana, Slovenia

I woke up at 5 in morning startled by a pair of eyeballs. The eyeballs, fortunately, were connected to a head and a torso that had arms waving at me as if I were an airplane attempting to land on the wrong runway (his way of saying hi). He was peering through the bars of the top bunk where I was sleeping and was surprised to see someone there. I furrowed my brows and hid in the sheets, my way of saying you scared the heck out of me and go away. I had checked in after they did and they had no prior knowledge of me. There are eight beds in the room at the hostel I'm staying at and I'm the only one not from the gang of Spanish college students who went clubbing last night. They were nice though because as soon as they realized they were not the only ones in the room, they hushed which in Spanish is refreshingly the same long hissing s sound. That was my only contact with them. When I woke up again at 7. They were all still sleeping though the Spaniard whose eyeballs I was well acquainted earlier roused a bit from sleep to once again say hi to me and this time, unafraid, I said hi back with a smile for good measure. When I returned for the day, they were all gone replaced by a Peruvian-American machine operator from Sacramento who is travelling the opposite direction as me. So maybe I'm starting to warm up to this hostel idea.

It is Saturday in Ljubljana and the big events of the day include farmer's market at the Old Center. This is a good sign. I love farmer's markets. I do. In Cleveland, my favorite thing to do is to go to the West Side Market. I think it's because this one is close to childhood memories of me and my siblings as basket-totting, wanna-be adults alongside my Mom on a Saturday going to the open market in Pulo, Valenzuela. We watched in awe as she haggles for a better price for the fruit of the season or the day's catch. We loved it too because at the end of shopping, we always have a treat of sweet snacks and tea. So here in this other part of the world, thousand of miles away from Polo Market, people do the same. People saunter and peruse the different aisles and shop and just before heading home, they stop and get some fresh flowers and sit down for a snack or some hot tea. Everyone has their own baskets or if they didn't have one, there are two basket shops on either end of the market. There is a fruit and produce section, a meat and fish section, cheese and and bread, flowers, and even crafts and accessories. There's a woman that sells tea, all different kinds and laid out so pretty in a neat stack of sacks. There's a man that sells homemade marmalade, honey, and nuts. And then there's this woman. She was smiling at me as I was taking pictures so I asked her if I could take her picture and did. She chuckles when I showed her the picture from my digital camera and then she hands me a bunch of leaves. She doesn't speak English so I'm not sure what to do. I take a few tollars out (the local currency) and she motions with her hands no. It is a gift it seems so I thank her. Half an hour later, still at the farmer's market, another older woman comes up to me, also not speaking English, she says long elaborate sentences and then points at the leaves. I say I don't understand. She says more things and points at the leaves. We go back and forth and then I realize as I was looking at row after row of tomatoes and leeks and cabbage that it seems that the leaves I was carrying was somewhat of a novelty. Then I understood that she is asking me where I got them and with glee I lead her to the picture-loving woman with the leaves. Later I find out that those were laurel leaves used for making goulash and are more available in the Southern part of Slovenia. The laurel purveyor bows in thanks and attends to her eager customer.

Further down the river over at a bridge, at 11 AM, they were having a wine-tasting event which from what I gathered from a local happens quite a bit. I'm trying to be like my friend Kevin here in that I have a travel version of myself, the one that attempts to try all things, so as they say when in, in this case, Slovenia, one drinks wine at 11AM poured from a barrel. I happily oblige.

I also discovered that in this part of the world, I am quite hip. People hangout at bars which unlike in the States serves coffee and warm wine. Bars such as these line the river that cuts through the Old Town and are open till the wee hours of the night. This looks like tea but tastes like warm Chardonnay. I sat and read a book at this bar and I was right on the scene. Around me were people reading the newspaper or when in groups chatting while smoking and having warm cocktails or coffee. So girls, remember when we went out to the Irish bar Fado's. I felt dowdy ordering tea to keep myself awake. If only we had been in Slovenia. In fact, I suggest we pool our resources together and introduce this new bar culture in the States. Consider it a potentially profitable venture that has a public service angle for people like myself who always feel like they're a needle-point away from being an old hag. There must be hundreds like me out there. I can't be the only one. Who is with me? Note to self. Consult this idea with corporate strategist Scott.

My mistake however thereafter was to hike the Belvedere Tower post warm wine. Not so easy hiking, eventhough this was such an easy trail, when one is buzzed with wine, however warm, but I managed and the sunset at the tower was worth the small struggle.

Quick Update

Just wanted to give everyone a quick update as I had been on the road and on limited internet access for the past week.

So I find that I write the best when I write in the present moment. I have to abandon, but for the moment my day by day account, because I'm seriously behind and I can't guarantee my internet access until I get to Prague.

So at the present moment, it is 3 AM in Ljubljana, Slovenia. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. I think someone is thinking of me. That's a Filipino thing. I think it's my Mom because when I called I was only able to talk to my Dad because she was at work. My calling card only only works in Callback mode in Slovenia. It sort of works like a pager. You dial an access number, you call the number and leave a number to call you back on. But somehow it doesn't work and I know it's because I'm not using it correctly. That happens a lot here. I stare at the phone for a few minutes to try to figure it out. We get used to how it works one way and we realize there's some subtleties to how things work for others. It's not just phones. So this travel thing is good for brain exercise because it puts familiar things in a different context and suddenly you have to think about something that you once thought was obvious. Except after a few weeks on the road and constantly faced with the familiar in an unfamiliar context, I think I am starting to sprain my brain. Is that possible?


The events so far leading up to Ljubljana, in brief, are as follows.

I had an amazing time at the Cinque Terre which I have a complete spiel about that I'm saving for a later post. The next day I took the train from La Spezia to Milano Centrale. Stayed in Milan for a few days to visit the Reyes family. Milan as a sights destination was okay but the highlight of Milan was the visit with this family. They made me homemade Italian dinners that were absolutely amazing. I got the recipe for a lasagna bolognese that I hope to recreate when I get back. It was also nice to do ordinary things in a different city like grocery shopping. I stayed an extra day in Milan because our family friend offered to take me to the Questura to see about extending my visa until Nov 10 so I could still make a go for Croatia and Paris to visit Danielle. Nov 1 here is a holiday so I had to to it on Nov 2 which was the day I had set aside for Venice. In the end, they again said they could do nothing and by then the train schedules for Venice didn't make sense and Caloy had already taken the day off so I decided to stay the rest of the daz in Milan. We went to Lake Como. I was secretly hoping to run into George Clooney. Wouldn't that have been great! Sadly no Clooney at Como de Lago.

Then I headed to Ljubljana but I had five hours to kill at the Venice stop so I stored my pack at the train station and boarded a vaporetto to tour the Grand Canal all the way to St. Mark's Square. So Venice was not completely lost. Although, five hours for Venice is truly not enough. I felt ok though. I could have just stayed in Venice for the night too but I didn't want to travel three consecutive days. To be honest, being on the road is really quite tiring. I'm starting to miss my bed. I was a bit worried that I was taking the later train to Ljubljana and still had no accomodations. The tourist office was closed by the time I got to there and I wasn't sure how safe it was to walk around the city at night. But so happy to report that I successfuly maneuvered my way to a fine hostel very close to the train station and the old part of town which is the attraction to see in Ljubljana. My first hostel. I had called some hotels earlier and they were way way expensive and I just had a feeling that I should be able to find something cheaper once I got here. Hostel living is a strange experience. I may have missed the window to truly find it appealing but for the price it's hard to dismiss it as an option.

In Ljubljana, I walked around the old part of town, partook of sweet rolls and breads and fresh fruit from the farmer's market and hiked to the castle that towered over the town.

There. Caught up. Not as brief as I thought. More pictures next time. Will attempt to go back to sleep.

To my family, don't worry, I have confirmed accommodations for Vienna tonight and tomorrow I head to Prague where I can call to my heart's content.




I hiked the two trails from Monterosso, Vernazza, and Corniglia. The trails to Manarola were closed so I headed back to Vernazza instead to wait for the sunset. Italy's weather has been unusually warm for this late October season. Shopowners are even preparing for the end of the season, closing shop and moving to the bigger city where it's more comfortable, but they are staying put another week or so to see this fine weather out. I took it as a sign, a gift, and headed for the water. I'm one of few. Although it's unusually warm, the water is still pretty cold. My only accomplice is a little girl who is gritting her teeth in a lie when her mom asks her if it is too cold. She also had floaters on her arms (another sign). But it truly was nice. The water is salty and soft and the stones does not feel grimmy but the stones only go so far for it gets deep quick. There is more to Cinque Terre but I want to wait until I have pictures to show you.