Reykjavik Day 2

Waking up to our thirty second consecutive hour of sun, Gabe and I headed into downtown Reykjavik to the LAUNDROMAT CAFE for a proper and uncharacteristically gluttonous American breakfast. For the majority of our trip, we had grown accustomed to a light pastry and cappuccino. Confidently far away from mainland Europe, we regressed -- Gabe had pancakes, while I had a croque madame, a grilled cheese sandwich complete with bechamel sauce and the gratuitous addition of a fried egg. We were pleased to find a pot of french pressed coffee and cream, which had been surprisingly impossible to find in every other country we had visited on the trip.

After further ambling, Gabe and I returned to our hostel, from where we were picked up by a chartered bus company to complete a tour of the Golden Circle, Iceland's famous driving route that includes stops at Pingvellir National Park, Gulfoss Waterfall, and the Strokkur and Geysir geyser's. With only two days in Iceland, the Golden Circle, along with the Blue Lagoon, is a must, affording one the opportunity to sample much of Southern Iceland's natural beauty in only a half a day.

I mention chartered bus company because it in part represents my primary criticism of Iceland, which is that it is not conducive to budget travelling. As I've told many friend since returning from Europe, Reykjavik has two major streets on interest, and is similar to Newport in terms of the time it justifies; it quickly became apparent that in order to experience Iceland competely, we had to venture out beyond the city. Given the number of Icelanders (only 200,000), cheap and efficient public transportation, something to which Gabe and I had come to regard as our new reality (sorry Amtrak), is sparse. Therefore, one either has to rent a car (prohibited due to our age) or take an equally expensive private bus company.

Nevertheless, we signed up for the tour, and Gabe and I did enjoy all of the sites. Of particular note was Pingvellir National Park, the site of the world's first parliament. Though we only had the chance to see the area briefly from a viewing balcony, I would love to return one day to SCUBA dive along the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates and to hike throughout the area. I also really enjoyed picking the brain of our bus guide, who had a lot of insight to the Icelandic response to the '08 financial crisis.

That evening, Gabe and I "dinner-hopped," sampling famous lobster soup at Saegreifinn (http://travel.nytimes.com/2006/11/12/travel/12bite.html) near the wharf and then heading back into town for Nepalese food. Following dinner, Gabe and I went to KEX HOSTEL for live music, returning at an unknown hour given the complete sunlight which would suggest 6pm anywhere else in the world.

Reykjavik Day 1

We left France by Icelandair and arrived midday in Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland. After having been in mainland Europe for close to two months, arriving in Iceland was culturally jarring. The whole vibe is different from France, with an exacting Swiss-like precision about everything -- Keflavik airport was immaculate, customs efficient, and the people friendly enough with perfect English. Yes, this was convenient, but there is a certain charm in chaos that Iceland lacks.

On the plane, I befriended a flight attendant who was gracious enough to offer a two day best-hits itinerary of Iceland/Reykjavik/surrounding area for us. From the airport and at the recommendation of the flight attendant, Gabe and I went directly to the Blue Lagoon, a natural hot spring heated by the exhaust of a nearby geothermal plant. It sounds toxic, but I'm told it is sustainable, and I can attest the experience is very natural and relaxing. The ride over to the Blue Lagoon is an experience itself, as Iceland is very topographically unique. The endless black lava fields look like the surface of the moon. In addition, there are no trees -- the area is a spartan, but beautiful.

At the Blue Lagoon, Gabe and I had some serious R&R, floating through pools, applying the homeopathic silica to our faces, and exploring the surrounding area and hot springs. The whole facility is really high end and modern. Having relaxed for a few hours, Gabe and I caught the bus to Reykjavik and checked in at the REYKJAVIK DOWNTOWN HOSTEL, which, consistent with our experience in Iceland, was pristine in every way.

Following a quick lunch at the famous Bæjarins beztu pylsur hot dog stand, Gabe and I walked through Reykjavik, along the waterfront, and eventually to the Hallgrímskirkja Cathedral (if you're thinking to yourself how did we manage Icelandic, the answer is we did not), from which we had a 360 view of the entire town. Despite being the capital of Iceland, Reykjavik is quite small. It is actually very similar to Newport, with two major streets of interest and a lot of charming side alleys. That night for dinner, Gabe and I had sushi, and of particular interest was the delicious Mink Whale (I hope they're not endangered, and I won't even dare to find out).

Given its location so far North, Iceland has midnight sun, which is to say, it never gets dark. Gabe and I were out until about midnight, returning to our hostel at a sunlight equivalent of 7:30pm in Boston.

Paris Day 3

Gabe and I wasted no time on our final day in Paris, waking up early to make a second attempt at the Musee d'Orsay. We took the metro to the Louvre, had our usual on-the-go lunch (some type of pastry and coffee, generally), and walked through the Jardin du Tuileriers along the Louvre, after which we crossed the Sienne and queued up in line. Despite the what appeared would be a long wait, the Museum proved unbelievably efficient, and Gabe and I baked in the sun for no more than 20 minutes before entering.

The museum itself is overwhelming; the building that houses the art is a site to behold, and of course, the art is impressive. Given our time constraints and general lack of knowledge, Gabe and I broke with our travelling mantra, and followed the crowds to the noteworthy exhibits and artists -- Monet, Manet, Degas, Renior, Gauguin, and Van Gogh. In part, we can now add additional checks to our bucket/cultured citizen of the world list, but also, I have to say, a lot of the art was really beautiful and moving. 

Of particular note at the museum was not only the art we saw, as one would expect, but instead a really bizarre family, who we observed communicating with each other via SWAT team-esq walkie-talkies and plenty of "roger rogers," "10/4s," and "over and outs." In the presence of such beauty, they were the ultimate caricature of the ugly and conspicuous tourists!

After the Museum, Gabe and I walked to RUE MONTORGUEIL, a famous street in the 2nd arrondissement known for its amazing food offerings -- street side cafes, fish mongers, cheese shops, unbelievable produce, etc. Gabe and I, recognizing this was our last day in France, got our fatty on, and started to sample, purchasing some fresh fruit, sweets, and Chinese dumplings. In fact, we so enjoyed the Chinese food that we returned for a full lunch.

Armed with inordinate amounts of MSG, we found a cafe and people watched for a bit, before taking the metro to Montmarte to visit Sacre Cour, explore the area, and a snap a few pictures of the Paris panorama. We then returned to our hotel, retrieved our packs, and headed to the 10th arrondissement to the TA recommended CHEZ MARIE LOUISE.

Chez Marie Louise was easily the best meal on our trip. I could wax lyrical about the impeccable service, the perfect and inventive preparations, the unbelievable wine, and the generally amazing experience. I think my sister, however, does a better job. What I will say is that it is really easy to spend a lot a money and eat poorly in Paris, and really difficult to spend a moderate amount of money and eat well. The place is a total gem and one I plan on returning to on every trip to Paris. Gabe agrees. After dinner, we caught the metro to Charles de Gaulles Airport, and spent the night at the Sheraton in preparation for the final leg of our journey to Iceland.  

Paris Day 2

Avoiding the 29 euro per person breakfast offered at our hotel, Gabe and I woke early and took the Metro to POILANE, the David Lebovitz recommended Paris boulangerie known for its apple tarts and "p-inscribed" bread. With the addition of some cappuccinos at a random street cafe, we were ready to hit the day full steam ahead Gabe and I collectively agreed the day before to attempt to tackle Paris by foot when possible, as we would 1) compensate moderately for our gluttony and 2) explore the city and its neighbhoods. With that in mind, we walked to the Musee D'Orsay, only to find that it is closed on Monday.

Disappointed but flexible nonetheless, we decided instead to walk over to the Marais in the third arrondissement. The Marais has particular interest for us because it is the Jewish quarter of Paris, and with more time, we would have loved to see the Jewish history museum. We instead queued up at the famous L'AS DU FALAFFEL, ordering Falaffel and Schwarma; we made a picnic on the Place Des Vosges, after which we walked over to the Bastille. We then attempted to try the David Lebovitz recommended BLE SUCRE, famous for their lemon glazed Madelleines, in the 11th arrondissement but found upon arrival it too was closed.

We hopped on the metro to the 8th arrondissement to instead try the world famous macaroons at LADURE. As we would learn, Parisian macaroons are much different than the coconut ones we have for Passover in America, consisting instead of cream sandwiched between two flavored merengue cookies. I personally was not a huge fan, having been put off by the texture, but I can get why people go crazy about them. 

Afterwards, Gabe and I split for the afternoon, and I took the Metro to the Eiffel tower. I wandered for the rest of the day, walking down the Champ de Mars, to the Hotel Des Invalides, and eventually to the Luxemborg Gardens, catching the metro afterwards back to our hotel. That evening, Gabe and I had a late dinner in the Sorbonne, again electing to hoof it back to our hotel by foot. Exhausted, we fell asleep shortly thereafter.

Paris Day 1

From Lyon to Paris ... by high speed train. If one has to pick a way to travel between big cites in France, I'd recommend TGV. Do the math your self -- 300 miles in just under two hours. Given that this was the final leg of our Europe journey by train (the Eurail pass was a godsend), I thought it would be fitting to give a final homage and thank you to the superb and punctual (exception Italy) European train network. Now to Paris.

We arrived at Gare du Lyon just before lunch and took the metro to our hotel, LE MERIDIEN ETIOLE. While we felt like Kings at the Dijon, we thought we were the Pope in Paris -- pure and unadulterated luxury. We dropped off our bags and quickly hit the streets, taking the metro to the David Lebovitz recommended AU PIED DU COCHON, a famous brasserie in the heart of the city. Despite the fact that the restaraunt is shamelessly touristy -- and it is -- Gabe and I enjoyed the experience and are now allowed to say "we did it." We both ordered the French onion soup. Following that, I made, in retrospect, the mistake of ordering the famous fried pig trotter. Again, I'm happy I did it but was put off instantly by the cartilaginous/gelatinous texture and the finger nails still remaining on the pig. I truly lost my appetite when Gabe offered me his nail clipper but take solace in the fact that Gabe (and he agrees on this) ordered the most disgusting thing on this trip -- andouillette. As always, google it!

Following lunch Gabe and I waked to the Pompidou; I personally found it boring, but then again, I'm at the stage of life where I most appreciate art when I recognize it having come across it before through life experience. After the Pompidou, Gabe and I went to the 9th arrondissement to another David Lebovitz recommended site, the Hotel Royal Fromentin ... An absinth bar two blocks away from Moulin Rouge. I thought this bar was one of the highlights of our entire Europe trip (thank you Charis and David, Mom and Dad for the rec). The ambiance was dated in the most charming of ways -- green, old looking, wood intensive. Watching the bartender make the drink was an experience itself; he pours a shot of licorice flavoroud absinth in a glass, suspends two sugar cubes over the rim, and allows ice water to drip slowly, dissolving the sugar for the drink. The buzz that ensues (52% alcohol content) is quite enjoyable.

Afterwards we walked all the way back to the Meridien in the 17th arrondissement, taking over an hour but in doing so exploring neighborhoods street by street. We found a brasserie near our hotel around 10:30, having a late dinner before hitting the hay for a full day to follow.

Lyon, Bastille Day

Cities are generally not my scene. They are big, crowded, expensive ... Need I say more! Lyon falls into those categories. It is in fact big, and you guessed it, crowded and more expensive, but somehow, it won me over with some serious charm offensive. To start, Lyon is considered the food capital of France. I therefore arrived with an open mind, excited, if for nothing else, to eat some really tasty meals.

After dropping off our bags at our hotel, Gabe and I did just that, finding some random cafe along the river. We both had salad lyonnaise, a tasty mélange of amazing French produce (superior to US organic by far), lardons, croutons, and a poached egg. With the addition of rose, our meal was perfect.

By 2pm, we were wandering the town, fighting our food comas so that we could see the Roman amphitheater and Basilaca de Notra Dame de Fourvier across the river. We then came back across the river and explored the pedestrian walkways. As happy hour began to arrive, Gabe and I sat down at some random cafe. Partly through our drinks, two random French kids our age introduced themselves to us, and a long conversation ensued. It's amazing how friendly people here are. Contrary to my instinct of this friendly person "must want to pickpocket us, or worse," it turns out that Europeans are just more open (fear not loyal readers, Gabe and I still remain vigilant). We had a really enjoyable conversation, lasting well over an hour at the cafe, before we split and Gabe and I went to Chez Mounier, a TA recommended restaraunt specializing in cheap Lyonnaise cuisine. Of particular note from our meal were the Quenelles, which are pike flavored dumplings in a creamy lobster sauce. 

After dinner, Gabe and I walked around town, partaking in the Bastille Day activities. Along the river there were multiple live concerts, complete with dance floors for the drunk and soon-to-be drunk to express themselves. The whole atmosphere was so convivial and fun ... Similar to the Fourth of July but without hamburgers. Gabe and I staked out our seat below the chapel early, and by the time the fireworks started at 10:30pm, we were in a sea of well over 100,000 people. After the show, we walked back the hotel, arriving just before midnight and hitting the hay before preparing to leave via TGV high speed train the following morning to Paris.

Quennelle's ... foodgasm

Dijon (as in the mustard)

Amazing food market, which we could desperately use in US

 Despite our hopes, the weather in the Jungfrau never cleared and the forecast/on site weather cameras revealed that the entire area was blanketed in clouds, rendering the hike not doable ... or at least worth the time and effort. In the spirit of flexibility -- which has now become a theme -- we decided to go northwest to Dijon, a smallish city in Burgundy. As with many of the places we've visited, Dijon is a really lovely town, with excellent food, wine, and architecture.

After deciding to divert to Dijon, we needed to find a place to stay. Both hostelworld.com and Trip Adviser both revealed the only hostel was 30 minutes outside of town by infrequent bus and had a mental institution-esq air about it. Instead, Gabe and I stayed at a hotel, the KYRIAD DIJON -- a nice, clean French chain, which, when the price was divided by two, equalled about the cost of a hostel. After spending the last few weeks in hostels, we felt like Kings in the castle at our humble Kyriad. The only and really major downside was the social aspect, as we didn't have people our own age around us with which to socialize.

Because we arrived in the early evening, Gabe and I settled in and walked through the town. We found an English speaking movie theater, and decided to watch TO ROME WITH LOVE, which in retrospect I can tell you, is the most stupid Allen film I have ever seen (one problem was that there are five story lines, two of which are completely in Italian, and were subtitled in French, and Gabe and I had no idea what was going on).

The following morning, we slept in, and then went on "owl tour," an owl marked path throughout the city that essentially brings you to every major tourist site within a few hours. Along the way, we stopped at the Dijon market, and spent quite a bit of time exploring, sampling foods along the way. Even the US farmers market doesn't compare! We also bought some specialty mustard, unable to resist our touristic impulses.

In the afternoon, we went to the Fine Arts Museum but were disappointed to find out that the major site, the tombs of the dukes of Burgundy, were closed off due to renovations. We still made our way through the museum, finding time afterwards to people watch at a cafe. We had another marathon dinner at the TA recommended LE BOUCHON DE PALAIS before retiring to bed and bidding farewell to Dijon the following morning.

Zermatt (1620m) -- Riffelalp -- Riffelberg -- Rothenboden -- Gornergrat (3089m) ... and back down

With the prospect for thunderstorms and snow in the afternoon, Gabe, Cullen, and I woke up at 6:45am to get an early start to hike up to Gornergrat, the "Jungfraujoch" of Zermatt. Rather than ascend by train, as most do, we planned to hike up to the viewing area from our hostel, grab lunch, and take the train down in order to avoid the knee crunching descent.

After snarfing down breakfast and making the necessary bad weather preparations, we set off on the hike. The hike in to Gornergrat was a good choice in that every 1:30 there is a train station in the event the weather turns bad, which the reports promised it would. In addition, the scenery is incredibly diverse, changing dramatically after each station stop.

The first stage to Riffelalp was a little over an hour through the woods, with a moderately steep but unrelenting ascent. Surprisingly, this was the most poorly marked section of the hike, requiring the use of a map and discretion at a few intersections along the way. In spite of this, we found Riffelalp, and then proceeded through untouched alpine meadows to Riffelberg. This was the most beautiful section of the hike, providing lots of wildflowers, rivers, and marmots, juxtaposed against the imposing and always impressive Matterhorn. From Riffelberg we procceded through a barren and ugly landscape to Rothenboden. Somohow, we missed Rothenboden, fortunately stumbling on to Gornergrat. With 100 percent visibility, Gabe, Cullen, and I had a cloudless views of the entire "Matterhorn Glacier Paradise" ... (see google images).

Everything about Gornergrat was prohibitively expensive, including the food and 40 Franc train tickets to Zermatt, and after a quick hot chocolate/nutella/challah break, we walked (and I kvetched :)) down to Zermatt, finishing our hike in just under 7hrs and with enough time to grab a final meal of burgers before Cullen had to catch the train to Geneva.

Zermatt -- Schonbielhutte -- Zmutt -- Zermatt

Cullen met Gabe and I in Zermatt last night, and after catching up, we explored downtown Zermatt, which is a really charming, unbelievably expensive town. Zermatt is small and justifies maximum only a few hours of slow, relaxed ambling. For dinner, the group elected to eat outside the hostel, and after fruitlessly searching for a meal less than 30 francs, we eventually found a burger joint that was cheap by Zermatt standard. A lovely and hilarious meal ensued, lasting almost 2hrs. Drinks at the ZERMATT YOUTH HOSTEL followed.

To our list, I can add:

- "Georgia," our 17 year old roommate who, given his birthplqce and accent, reminded us of Maddox
- "So-Cal," a group of five high school grads who came to Zermatt to snowboard ... in the Summer?

The following morning, we woke up at 7am, snarfing down breakfast at lightening speed so that we could beat the weather and hike the 6hr30min round trip to Schonbielhutte and back. The hike begins in Zermatt, and rises gradually through picturesque alpine meadows until reaching Zmutt, a town consisting of ten houses and two restaraunts. We went further into the valley, affording us picture perfect views of the north face of the Matterhorn, which, in a stroke of luck, was not obstructed by any clouds. As we approached the hut, a storm started to build, and we elected to turn back only 15 minutes hike from our final location, with the hut in site ... Responsible but slightly unfortunate. We ambled down to Zmutt, and had another marathon meal (three seperate types of rosti), before returning to Zermatt for some serious R&R, dinner, and further relaxing walks through the town.

Como

From Cinque Terre we went North to Como, a town about which I know very little. Como sits around a large glacial lake, and the town around it, quite frankly, is dumpy, deserving an hour of exploration maximum. No matter! Gabe and I arrived in Como in the afternoon and checked into our hostel, THE RESPAU ECO HOSTEL, which was without a doubt the BEST hostel we have stayed in so far. Before I tell you about Como, let me give you some more description of the hostel. RESPAU is located in the middle of a park outside of Como, and the location/general vibe is very serene, idyllic, and relaxing. The beds were clean, and get this, comfy! And perhaps most important, the staff was incredibly solicitous and helpful, answering every question and concern from the legitimate to the anxietious. Drinks were cheep and the food was delicious. For $24 a night, what more could you ask for. The first night we arrived at around 6pm and the place was so inviting that Gabe and I just opted for some serious R&R. To my family, this place was the hostel equivalent of the ST. REMY DE PROVENCE :) The following morning, Gabe and I slept in, something we haven't done, as we have been constantly on the move the entire trip! After a relaxed breakfast, we took the bus to Piazza Cavour and decided to take a ferry to Villa Babianello, the number 1 rated Trip Adviser destination in Como. In hindsight, this turned out to be a smart decision, as the following day, the ferry workers went on strike. The actual ride too was incredibly relaxing, and for 1.5 hours Gabe and I took in the lake and its surrounding towns. Villa Babianello itself was incredible. As the site and inspiration for Naboo for George Lucas' Star Wars, Villa Babianello had big expectations to defend. The Villa met every one (just google pictures of the gardens to get a sense), and perhaps the most interesting part of the tour was the focus on the Villa's owner, Guido Moncino, who was an Italian explorer and alpineist. Consequently, the tour of the villa was as much an homage to Guido's exploits -- including an Everest summit and visit to the North Pole -- as it was about the architecture of the Villa. After lakeside libations, we took the ferry back, walking the 40 mins from downtown Como to our hostel, thereby checking off "explore Como" from our tourist checklist. The following and final day, Gabe and I woke up early and took the furniculer from Como to Brunate and began a 6hr30 hike around to the lake to Pian Del Tivano, which is a little over half way on the road to Belaggio. With the threat of bad weather in the afternoon, Gabe and I booked it in the morning, arriving at Rifuggio Riella in time for a polenta-intensive lunch before hiking a further 2hrs to town. When we arrived in Pian Del Tivan, we learned the bus left only every 2hrs, so we relaxed at a bar (no English speakers present), relaxing and watching Formula 1. We eventually caught the bus back to Como, and though we were packed like sardines and forced to stand for 1hr10min, we made it back in time to RESPAU for one last night before leaving the following morning to meet Cullen in Zermatt.

Cinque Terre

Cinque Terre, a region comprising five towns -- Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernaza, and Montesorro al Mare -- is an area that finds itself on the bucket lists of most individuals. I myself had never heard of it, and Gabe and I decided to go at the recommendation of our parents, despite the schlep south from Milano.

To say the least, Cinque Terre was the most outstanding, visually beautiful, calorically intensive place Gabe and I have yet visited; the perfect combination of great views, food, and wine made our two night visit to new and undisputed highlight of our trip thus far.

We arrived in Manarola by train, and hiked up to the OSTELLO CINQUE TERRE, a famous hostel, which quite frankly, Gabe and I were lucky to book on such short notice. The rooms were clean, and the staff was friendly, which one can not necessarily say that about many hostels. To add further luxury, breakfast every morning and after dinner drinks in the evening were on a temperate porch overlooking the water.

As with the rest of our trip, Gabe and I were go-go-go upon arrival, and quickly dumped our bags, catching the next train to Corniglia to explore the town in depth and sample our first "slow food" meal (the Italian equivlant of the US organically, locally sourced movement). Corniglia was absolutely gorgeous, run-down in the most charming of Italian ways. We had dinner at the CANTINA DE MANANAN, which too proved the best meal of our trip, the highlights of which included poached fish, four seperate preparations of anchovies, local wine, octopus, mackeral, and spaghetti pomodoro. Further, everything was enhanced by some mouthgasmic olive oil, which too, I suspect was local (-ish).

The following morning, Gabe and I, as a Cinque Terre right of passage, decided to hike all five towns, which included 11-14km of trails that went from along the ocean, to 100s of feet above the towns, affording us picture perfect views along the way. We completed the entirety of the walk in 6 hours, which included numerous stops along the way for pizza, focaccia, etc.

After we finished the hike, we swam in Manarola for a few hours, and that night, had dinner with a friend we met in the hostel, whose pedigree includes a spot on the US Olympic Rowing Team and former position at Goldman ... pretty impressive. He claims to have known and even -- get this -- sued the Winkelwoss twins. Pretty crazy if you ask me.

We lounged around the following morning, before proceeding northward back through Milano to Como. Stay tuned!

For more info, please read:

http://travel.nytimes.com/2007/08/05/travel/05hours.html

Milano

As our first Italy diversion, Gabe and I took the train to Milan, a major hub in Northern Italy that made sense as a stop en route to exploring the particular region. To be honest, I had not heard the most flattering reviews of Milan in the past ... that it was dumpy, crowded, hot, etc., and though I had a jaded impression, I quickly adjusted upon arrival.

The city is so alive ... the people watching itself deserves three triangles in Rickey Stevey! Perhaps this is uncouth, but I found the city to be very similar, at time almost identical, to Rome, without the Roman ruins of course (Rome is one of my favorite cities in the world). Milan has the same general topography and architecture, the same stereotypical, albeit endearing, Italian approach to efficiency, and the same amazing food. Coming from Switzerland, we were immediately struck by the differences, and in particular, the the prices.

Given the short time we had to explore the vast city, Gabe and I dumped our bags at the ZEBRA HOSTEL, and took the city by foot, trying to hit every major tourist destination in less than 24hrs. We walked to the Piazza del Duomo and ambled below the shopping mall adjacent to the square. After getting lost a few times, we had dinner, and returned to the hostel, staying up until 2am socializing with:

- "Canada 1" and Canada 2," two college students from, you guessed it ... Canada
- "Brazil," a profoundly chill dude with dreadlocks
- "Nice," a nice guy who spoke little English, who probably was just nodding politely at everything I said
- "Austria 1" and "Austria 2," two unbelievably good ping pong player who embarresed Gabe and I multiple times

The following morning, we woke up at 7:30am, and charged ourselves with visiting every major site/church in time to make a 2pm train. We first walked to the Duomo, beating the morning crowds to explore the inside of the church and climb to the roof for a view of the entire city ... just incredible! We then caught the metro, and went west of the Duomo to view the Chiesa di San Maurizio al Monastero Maggiore, the number one rated "to do" site on Trip Adviser. Again, because we beat the midday crowds, we could appreciate the beauty of the church without bumping into throngs of tourists. We then walked the length of the touristic part of the city, visiting a castle structure along the way and having some delcious cacio e pepe for lunch before catching our 2pm trian with little time to spare.

I will also add that Gabe and I were really intent on viewing THE LAST SUPPER, disappointed to find out that one must book a tour 6 months in advance. If it is any cancellation, we were only 5 months and 29 days short :)

Schynigge Platte and Darwinism

Visibility ...

As I previously noted, the weather in St. Gallen was less than ideal, and as Gabe and I made our way southwards by train towards Interlaken to begin the Tour of the Jungfrau Region hike, it became increasingly clear, and later confirmed by weather reports, that the clouds, intermittent rain, and periodic thunder and lightening were a problem across all of Switzerland. Always hopeful, we still took the 50 minute train from Wilderswil to the Berghotel Schynigge Platte (2000m approx.), hoping beyond hope the weather would turn in our favor ... Not so much. We could only see clouds from the porch, despite the fact that the hotel boasts a panoramic view of the Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau mountains, and the Grindelwald and Lauterbrunnen Valleys.

Sinner

We quickly befriended a fellow hiker named Rishi, who himself had schlepped from California for the TJR only to find that the weather for the week rendered the hike not doable. Despite all this, we had a lovely time in Schynigge Platte, dining with our new friend Rishi for a three hour, five course marathon dinner, the discussions of which ranged from Silicon Valley (where he works) and the next "big thing," to the usefulness of a college education and his positive thoughts on the new Facebook timeline.

Fortunately, even at 2000m, the Berghotel had wifi, and after dinner, Gabe and I, with the aid of our parents, we're able to pow-wow, and asses the situation for the remainder of our trip. Rather than wallow in our disappointment, we instead opted to adapt, changing our entire trip and replacing our itinerary in the hopes of returning to Switzerland for a second attempt at the TJR ... only the fittest species adapt, and in our case, evolve their plans to make the trip continuously enjoyable.

To that end, Gabe and I opted to go South to Northern Italy, and explore that region for a week. We decided to eliminate Nice and 2 days in Paris, so that we could return and try the hike in better weather. Given our Eurail Pass and the modern wonders of the Internet, we were able, with relative to ease, to incorporate Italy into a brand new itinerary. More details to come!

Open Air Music Festival

What an experience! For me, this trip is forcing me to try new things and attending a music festival in St. Gallen certainly qualifies. To begin, let's get a sense of the setting. St. Gallen, though pretty, is not a worthwhile town to visit on its own.

After Gabe and I checked our bags at the hotel WEISSES CREUZ and fueled up with Doner Kebab, we went straight to the park, which was 5 minutes outside of town by bus. Quickly upon arrival, one experiences sensory overload -- 30,000 people, trash, intermittent rain, the unmistakable smell of pot, an alarming rate of tobacco smokers, uncomfortably public urinals, and blasting music ... But bear with me; despite all of this, it added to the experience. The incredible music definitely helps. But the badass feeling Gabe and I had from thinking we were at Woodstock 2012 justified the surrounding.

After loosening up at the "Latino Night" tent, we went to watch the first act ... The Kooks. As you'd imagine, the crowd, drunk, high, and excited, went wild. Surprisingly, moving to a good spot was not difficult and we listened for the 45 minutes they played. After they finished, we went back to the Latino Night Tent.

Next up was Palo Nutini, and for the purposes of brevity, I think it sufficient to tell you he was our least favorite act. Back to Latino Night.

Finally, the main act ... Mumford and Sons. The viewing area was noticeably more crowded and the fans more engaged. As a novice Mumford listener, I learned why .... They're freaking awesome! We stayed until the last song, at which point they were joined by Wolfmother, Nutini, and The Kooks, to sing "The Weight," by THE BAND.

 That event, Gabe and I watched Spain defeat Italy for the title of Euro 2012 and were enjoying the street celebrations until someone shot fire works horizontally. We left after that :)

 To my list of friends, I will add:

- "Ticino," a girl in town to watch the festival ...

En route to St. Gallen

 All travel by definition cannot be smooth and seamless -- things go wrong, punctuality goes at the window, and chaos, albeit fun chaos, ensues. For Gabe and me, what should have been a smooth journey from Fussen to St. Gallen proved quite the ordeal.

After our 32km bike ride, Gabe and I made a picnic, and allowed ourselves 20 minutes to arrive at the train station. With our bags packed, we checked out, and Gabe asked me, "where did you put the bike key," to which I responded, "oh, was that my responsibility?" Now to be clear, the small key, which would unlock our two bikes joined together, was in fact my responsibility. And like an idiot, I just forget about it ... somewhere. After panicking briefly, we elected to forget about the lock, and carry the bikes, but given how tightly we locked them, we had to physically lift the bikes. This ultimately fruitless effort lasted 20 feet, at which point we elected to miss our train, and give ourselves another hour to find the lock.

We searched desperately through House LA, and only after admitting defeat did Gabe remember where I last left the key. Lo and behold, we found the key in the basement, and hoofed it to the train station. After further libations and even an ice cream break, we began a long, BOILING journey to St. Gallen (no airconditioning in trains).

As an unsuspecting tourists planning this trip, I assumed that the direct route Google Map provided would in fact be the route we take once actually in Europe ... NEIN. Collectively, we had five transfers:

1) Fussen to Kaufbeuren
2) Kaufbeuren to Lindau
3) Lindau to Bregenz
4) Bregenz to St. Magarthine
5) St. Magartine to St. Gallen
... 6) At this point, trained out, we took a cab from St. Gallen to Buhler, where our hotel, the lovely LANDGASTHAUS STERNEN, was located.

For the theme song of this leg of our journey, please watch the following video from the DARJEELING LIMITED:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lshQ2LL0-3Y

And depsite all of this, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and would trade it for nothing.