I've arrived!

I am in Montana. Where it is snowing. And where we might have ten inches by the morning.

What I've seen so far is pretty but it's also basically white out conditions and I can only see three feet in front of me. But, those three feet are beautiful.

Although it is not one of my usual end of the world disasters, it took less than an hour and a half from leaving home for something to go wrong! I left my laptop charger plugged into the wall instead of in my bag, where it should be. This will be an adventure in deed.

Peace and love, Boston. See you in May.

I've Caught Wanderlust

I often describe Tumblr as one of the darkest corner's of the internet. It is the seedy underbelly of the internet, but it is also a place where people post lots of lovely photos that make you drool and want to see absolutely everything on this planet ever. 

Since I now have a new camera and I am going to places that are hopefully worth taking photos of, I have created a tumblr dedicated solely to my travels. It might be premature, but I hope not. Entitled I've Caught Wanderlust, this blog shouldn't be hard for anyone who follows this blog to find, as the URL is simply thomsonstravelblog.tumblr.com. 

Less than 24 Hours Now

I think the title of this post is pretty self-explanatory, but just in case...

There...are...less...than...24...hours...until...I...leave.........................!!!

One Week!

This time next week, I will be in the air on my way to Montana (technically on my way to Denver, but THEN onto Montana after my layover). Not sure how much blogging I'm going to do on the road -- last night, I reread my employee handbook and it says that I'm not allowed to put anything about MCT on the internet without explicit written approval and while I guess I've already broken that rule by writing this post and while I wasn't planning on blogging about the job itself, it is a distinct gray area. Plus, I'm probably going to be super busy with my acting and all that!

Definitely planning on keeping a journal for myself, but maybe no blog or quite minimal blogging. Sorry, fans. I guess you might have to actually talk to me to hear about my adventure!

ONE MORE WEEK!!!

Population Count

I knew I would be going to some teeny tiny towns up in outer Siberia (Canada) but my dad actually went and looked up all of the places I'm going to see just how big/small they are. We have a pretty wide range, so this is gunna be a time and a half!

I've bolded the biggest and smallest to highlight just how different these places are

US Locations
Malta, MT -- 1,997
Chinook, MT -- 1,203
Whitefish, MT -- 6,357
Ekalaka, MT -- 332
Lambert, MT -- 616 (although there is some debate about whether this is one is correct)
Belt, MT -- 597

Canadian Locations
Cayley, AB -- 265
Rockyford, AB -- 325
Morinville, AB -- 8,569
Kyle, SK -- 423
Cessford, AB -- 33
Elmworth, AB -- 628
Milk River, AB -- 811
Grande Cache, AB -- 4,319
Fort St. John, BC -- 18, 609

Thirty-three. That isn't how many kids we'll have for the show, that is the entire population of Cessford, Alberta, Canada. The last show I worked on had a cast twice the size of this town! Thirty-three... Ok then.

It's super weird to think about the fact that I'll be doing The Little Mermaid with kids who've never seen the ocean before.

AT&T Rage

I did not plan on my MCT Inc. tour taking me to Canada but even if I had, I don't have a Canadian cell phone plan so today, my dad and I went into the AT&T store to investigate what it was going to cost to get some type of international calling plan and you know what? It's going to cost quite a lot to get very little!

I am not particularly pleased about this. Not at all.

MCT Inc.

Up until now, I have refrained from blogging about my new job as a touring actor/director with Missoula Children's Theatre, which is pretty strange considering that the word "touring" is in my job title and this is a travel blog.

But, now I've got a show and some tentative tour dates and it's time to blog! First of all, I'm going out to Montana obviously, because that is where Missoula is, but Montana is basically where I'm staying! Montana and North Montana (known as Canada to regular people who aren't in love with Disney's Meet the Robinsons like I am). I will be doing The Little Mermaid and I will be cold -- because Canada. In the winter. I might never be warm again!

I'm not sure how much I'll be blogging during the tour, but I am going to post my tentative tour dates for you all! I've also made this handy dandy, zig-zaggy map for you!!!

MAP

TOUR DATES AND LOCATIONS
1/12-1/17 -- Malta, MT
1/19-1/24 -- Chinook, MT
1/26-1/31 -- Cayley, AB
2/2-2/7 -- Whitefish, MT
2/9-2/14 -- Rockyford, AB
2/23-2/28 -- Morinville, AB
3/2-3/7 -- Kyle, SK
3/9-3/14 -- Cessford, AB
3/23-3/28 -- Elmworth, AB
4/6-4/11 -- Ekalaka, MT
4/13-4/18 -- Lambert, MT
4/20-4/25 -- Milk River, AB
4/27-5/2 -- Belt, MT
5/4-5/9 -- Grande Cache, AB
5/11-5/16 -- Fort St. John, BC

That's it for now. I leave for Missoula in 39 days -- just bought my plane ticket yesterday -- and I'm sure my next post will be something about how impossible it is to fit five months worth of anything into a suitcase, much less five months worth of heavy sweaters and long johns.

What NOT to do in Mexico

Well, it's taken a few days, but here is my final post from Rosarito -- just a few tips on what I would wouldn't do if I were to go back to that area!

1. Don't worry about changing your money Everyone accepts US dollars -- they seemed to prefer them in many places -- so it wasn't worth the hassle of going to the bank and getting all of that done.
2. Don't hire a mariachi band to play for you at dinner A lot of restaurants have this and it just isn't worth it. We didn't do it, but we did have to sit through a few loud dinners where the people next to us had...
3. Don't sit next to anyone who looks like they would hire a mariachi band to play for them at dinner I know that this is hard to actually follow through on, but still.
4. Know how to properly cross the border US Customs appreciates it and you won't risk missing your flight. I read a lot of books but none of them mentioned which lane to use or any of that, so just make sure you ask someone before you go through the wrong lane.

And that's it, I guess. Pretty simple stuff!! Go to Mexico and go wild, everybody!

Home Again

In Mexico, my dad brought up the fact that I've never done any conclusion posts after any of my trips, so this is it (ok, there is going to be one more on my tips for traveling in Mexico but this post will sum up my last day in California and flight home).

I last wrote about our misadventure in crossing the border and seeing our dad off to the airport, after that, we took a shuttle to our hotel, The Declan Suites. Our room was on the 20th floor, which I think is pretty shnazzy. Whitney utilized Siri to find us a place for lunch and we ended up at Hodady's, scarfing down monster burgers and burning hot onion rings.

I wish I could say that we did something super awesome during our afternoon in San Diego, but we really just watched TV in our room -- which was still pretty awesome. It was a nice lazy day, that ended with a walk to the Ghiradelli chocolate store and a Bride Day marathon.

My direct flight home left hours before Whitney's, so I was off before the sun was up. I got to the airport far too early for my liking and was forced to listen to a middle-aged couples loud and bigoted ranting. Nothing compacts a fear of flying and a fear of ebola quite like sitting in an airport listening to people talk about various related conspiracy theories.

Things did get better though -- I was seated next to that couple on the plane! They weren't as bad on the plane, the husband spent most of the five hour flight -- I kid you not -- reading the Bible.

I was flying Alaskan Airlines and instead of having legitimate movie screens, they allow you to rent what are essentially tablets. I went ahead and got one of these and ended up sleeping through most of X-Men Days of Future Past.

After sleeping through most of Epic as well, it was time for us to land and me to go home, which is where I am now!!

Whitney is having another difficult travel day apparently and might have started another Twitter war with United... We shall see!

Mexican French Toast and Border Patrol

The prime objective of today was to get back into America and we almost screwed that up... But more on that later.

The first task of the day was packing up and shipping out, plus breakfast. We returned to our hotel's restaurant for the latter and that is where I got "Mexican French Toast." Technically it was just listed as French toast on the menu, but I wanted the novelty of French toast from Mexico. It was pretty standard French toast in the end.

After that, we hit the road. At the top of the week, Chuck had had some difficulty finding his way to the border and then crossing it. He'd wound up in the ReadyLane for people with passport cards instead of passports and was told that the next time he came through, he needed to use "the other lane." Once again, he got lost, but this time he was determined to redeem himself by taking "the other lane." We got in the "Sentri/Solo" lane. Well, this was not "the other lane." This lane was designed to be thr EZPass of border crossing and there is apparantely a third lane that no one knew how to get to from where we'd come from!

They take going through the Sentri Lane a lot more seriously than they take going through the Ready Lane, so while my dad got a verbal warning on Sunday, today they put a cone on our car and made us pull aside for further inspection. We drove through an X-ray machine and then we were left to sit there. *Cue waiting impatiently montage* Eventually, someone came to our service and they were thorough -- checking every inch of the car and our bags and basically everything they could besides us. We werI may or may not be an international criminal now. What have you done today? We were given a warning and told that if this happened again, it could be a $5000 fine and with that lovely thought hanging over us, we were free to enter the country.

We returned our rental car and took the shuttle back to the airport with our dad. We helped him check into his flight and I looked like a crazy person as I carried a jug of water we'd bought in Mexico but hadn't finished around the San Diego airport. Now Whit and I are off to figure out what to do with the last night of our vacation.

Last Day in Rosarito

This morning, we went for a horse ride on the beach. I guess this is viewed as romantic by some people, obviously not for the three of us given our circumstances but definitely not for me, EVER. Note to future suitors: this is a horrible idea and will not, in any way, endear you to me. Horses on the beach might not seem humane to some and it definitely wasn’t… for me! How the horses felt about all of this is debatable but I might actually hate horse riding as much as I hate airplanes.

Whitney, however, is all about the horses. She decided that hers was named Theodore. I decided that mine was named a string of unbloggable swear words… Chuck knows all about horses after spending summers on his uncle’s farm growing up, so he was ok too. The only person who thought that a gentle trot along the beach would kill them was me. 

Happy

Happier

Happi... No.

Once I had returned to the ground, I was a happy clam – and I found more clam shells! (These clams weren't happy, because they were dead…). We also found more sand pesos – I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with all of these sand dollar/pesos yet, but I have a lot of them.

Then it was pool time! Pool time was further improved today by combining it with wine time. After pool time, it was lunch time… and then more pool time. (Tan game is going so strong at this point).

We returned to the beach for one last swim – or in my case, one more time where I tried not to drown. The good news is that I obviously did not drown or else I wouldn't be blogging right now. The other good news is that it was a fantastic time!

After that, we de-sanded and then returned for one final west coast sunset over the ocean. Final authentic Mexican food was required for dinner and now it's time to pack up and say goodbye -- we're leaving here at 8:30 tomorrow to take Chuck back to the airport, Whit and I will have the whole day in San Diego and then it's back to the east coast on Saturday.

Sunset selfie! Peace and love from Mexico!

Another Day, Another (Sand) Dollar

Today started off pretty gray. Whitney and I hung out in the pool while our dad did work (because apparently there are still a few responsibilities that don't evaporate when you go on vacation).

The clouds broke around noon and we ventured down to the beach. Whitney, apparently, has a gift for finding sand dollars (otherwise known as sand pesos, since we're still in Mexico) and we found more today -- including whole ones -- than we had during the rest of our trip combined. If Whitney could find real money the way she found sand pesos, we would be rich by now. I found more shells -- I think I'm getting close to my quota, but it's hard to tell.

Whitney took this to get insta-famous. So artsy.

After the beach, we went out for more tacos. Whitney and I not only accidentally matched each other, but the restaurant as well...

This is what all of the cool cats in punk town are wearing.

More shopping followed -- I'm happy to say that the vendors in Rosarito aren't nearly as aggressive as the vendors in Ensenada -- and then we were back in the pool for a few hours.

Dinner was in Puerto Nuevo, which is famous for it's lobster. I went with the standard and had lobster for dinner and the rest of the family had different variations of sea food for dinner. We also had an awesome view, but we couldn't eat that.

Post dinner, we watched the sunset before heading out to Mexican Dairy Queen, where we could not go through the drive-thru because Whitney "doesn't know the Spanish word for sprinkles."

Taco Tuesday!

Also known as Freedom Friday... but still on a Tuesday!

Yes, today was Taco Tuesday, which meant a lot of tacos, but there was also a lot of wine, shopping and just food in general. 

We started our day nice and early -- with a wine tasting. Yes, 10:15 am is a totally acceptable time to start drinking! The cool thing about our first stop of the day at Vinos Fuentes (also known as glasses 1-6) was finding out that I'm already famous here in Mexico! I have wine named after me!! Vinos Fuentes makes a wine called Ruby Red Thom(p)son and although there was some discrepancy between the spelling on the bottle and the sign, it is clear that the wine was made in my honor -- the wine is 14% alcohol just like I am! We didn't actually get to try my wine during the tasting but we did buy a bottle to bring home.

See? I'm famous!

Stop #2 was Sol de Media Noche (glasses 7-10). Unlike Vinos Fuentes, this place had cheese to go with the wine, so it was basically just like what happens when I go out to dinner and ask the waiter for "the cheesiest dish and strongest drink." We bought another bottle here, this time it was a white that we actually did try but due to poor labeling/poor translation, all we know about it is that mango is involved in some way.

Our final stop was La Cetto and we finished out the day at 12:15 pm with a final tally of 14 glasses.

Next, we arrive in Ensenada, the birthplace of the margarita! Having been wined out for the day, we didn't actually get any margaritas while we were there, but we did have tacos! Whitney and I both ended up having one fish taco (it was a fish stick in a tortilla) and one shrimp taco (shrimp and cheese and a whole lot of other stuff). Our dad had a different type of shrimp taco. After that, it was time to shop! I put an exclamation point there, but I'm not sure this was the greatest shopping experience; there was a lot of stuff to buy and a lot of people who really wanted to sell it to us. While I know being hassled is a part of the experience, it isn't necessarily a part that I like. I ended up only going into the rare stores that left me alone (or had really, really shiny stuff in the windows). All of the harassment aside, I did make a few purchases, although I didn't find new friends for my South African elephant figurine, Nelson, which is something I'm looking to do here. We also got another taco before our time in Ensenada was over.

After that, we drove back to the hotel and although the roads here are not as narrow as the ones in Capri, they're still pretty terrifying. Whitney wasn't worried though, she slept in the back seat, cradling her bottle of wine in her arms like a newborn baby. Typical.

Finally, we returned to the beach for another sunset and some more shell collecting. I promise that my obsessive shell collecting does serve a greater purpose, but that purpose is a secret, so just trust me. I found a barnacle today too! Whitney found a knife that had washed up on the beach.

But look! Sunset stuff...

Aww, we're so cute!

I don't even know...

We then ate wayyy too much at dinner and are going to sit in the hot tub for the rest of the evening. 

Whitney wants everyone to know that her butt got sunburned

She really does. She even tweeted about it.

Dayummm.

Title says it all

Tan Game Strong

First full day in Rosarito!

The day started off with bang, or should I say a series of piercing beeps, because we set off the fire alarm in our kitchen not once, but twice. We didn’t actually set anything on fire, but considering the alarm went off because of toast, I think it might have been more respectable if we had.

We visited the hotel lobby to get some information on how we could spend the day (and access the WIFI) and this is where denim struck again and Chuck ripped his pants. Yes, Spongebob Dadpants ripped his jean shorts today. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), there is no photographic evidence of this event. 

This event led us to everyone’s favorite superstore, Walmart. Nothing too spectacular happened there, except that I wondered what the neighborhood kids would think if we handed out Mexican candy on Halloween.

More driving and shopping took place – Whitney bought a bag and almost bought a poncho – before we finally headed back to the beach.

Before actually getting to the beach, we sat in the beach chairs that our hotel has overlooking the beach and yes, you should be jealous. After baking for a bit, we returned to the sand and walked along the beach until we returned to Rosarito’s main drag for lunch (tacos for me!).

We walked down the street, planning tomorrow’s adventure… We didn't just discuss options, we literally planned the day by walking into the booking agent we’d found through our hotel. Wine tasting and Ensenada tomorrow, people!

Circling back to our hotel, we jumped in the pool. The pool was pretty nice for my twitching, spazzy muscles, what I did after that, however, was not… because next, we returned to the beach.

Yesterday I had been on bag duty, which meant watching our stuff while Whitney and my dad went swimming but not today.  The waves here are pretty big and occasionally violent; Whitney spent most of the day complaining that she was sore (and still sandy even after a shower) from yesterday, but I still needed to go in. Whitney waged a war against the ocean, screaming “stand your ground” and expletives every five seconds. At one point, she said that she was water-bending, but after the next big wave broke, she said she just had water in her face. I just tried not to lose my swimsuit or drown. Whitney also coined the term, SBSS or Saggy Bathing Suit Syndrome, not that I had it or anything, but like I said, my prime objective in the water was to keep my clothes on...

After all that, I had some well-deserved Mexican M&Ms. They’re the same as American M&Ms except the bag is in Spanish AND there was a surprise inside. Boom! Guess who got strange sticker-like things?! Hint, it’s me.

P.S. As the title of this post suggests, my tan game is strong, really strong.

Post-ocean selfie

Happy Birthday, Christopher Columbus!

Today, we (or people in America) celebrate the achievements of Christopher Columbus, who discovered America (then slaughtered thousands of people, captured more as slaves and generally sucked all around).

Isn't history fun?

Little Dead Crabs Lying on the Beach

We found the beach! And lots of little dead crabs, but more on that later.

Our hotel isn’t on the beach, but it is pretty close to it, so it was only a short walk between us and the ocean (which we can see/hear from our room). We started off by walking towards the pier – on our side of the pier, the beach is pretty much empty, but on the far side, things are very different. It is all the hustle and bustle you would expect from a beach getaway. Lots of people doing lots of different things. You can also ride horses on the beach, which is something Whitney is drooling over.

To make a long story short, I’ve recently had muscle spasms that make walking very painful and walking on the beach almost impossible, but do you know what makes things easier? Tequila. We stopped for a drink, where my dad and I both said, “tequila in Mexico, sign us up.” Whitney, however, decided to try a daiquiri. She had a very romantic notion of it apparently, but it didn’t live up to her expectations. My dad told us of the time he had his first daiquiri – he was 13 in the Bahamas – and how he immediately hated it and said that he’d prefer ingesting fecal matter to ever having another one. Whitney agreed and didn’t finish the drink.

We started to walk back towards our side of the pier and I started to collect shells. Although there are plenty of shells on the beach, they are outnumbered by dead crabs, so I wrote a song called “Little Dead Crabs Lying on the Beach.” You officially know all of the words now, so congrats! My dad and Whitney didn’t really appreciate my composition, but they clearly don’t know genius when they see it.

I also found fragments of sand dollars but my dad said we had to call them sand pesos because a) we’re in Mexico and b) because none of them are whole, so they are worth less than a dollar. There’s some nerd humor for you!

After washing away all of the sand, we went out for dinner, or as I would like to call it, more tequila!!

La Gran Aventura de Coca-Cola has continued with the discovery of Coca Cola Life. We bought it without a clue of what it actually was since we don’t, ya know, read Spanish, but apparently it is Coca Cola made with natural sweeteners. The taste test is on hold for now though.

*Please note that photos were selected to be uploaded but then life happened and the internet was slow, so no photos for now (or maybe ever, who knows? I don't).

La Gran Aventura de Coca-Cola

Because I am an odd human being, I once went on a six hour hunt for three bottles personalized Coke bottles with "Kyle" on them. That quest was named "The Great Coke Adventure."

As we got our food, we realized one major difference between American Coke and Mexican Coke -- the names on the bottles. Let La Gran Aventura de Coca-Cola commence!

What we are actually adventuring for has yet to be decided... #StillNoThomson

San Diego/Rosarito

In our original plans, Whitney and I were supposed to arrive at the same time. I arrived early and Whitney arrived late...very late. Whitney had a little bit of trouble with her connecting flights. This led to a mini Twitter war with United Airlines.

So sassy! I'm so proud!

I obviously had to get in on the action...

Since we had hours to burn, we went on the hunch for lunch (well, lunch for me, breakfast for Chuck -- thank you, time difference). After that, we went on the hunt for a grocery store since we have a kitchen in our hotel in Rosarito. Apparently, however, grocery stores do not exist in San Diego because we drove around for a long time before finally ending up at a Vietnamese grocery store. I stayed in the car and let my dad handle what was apparently a unique experience.

Then it was time to get Whitney and hit the road. Driving over the border is probably the least exciting thing to happen, ever... Crossing the border into Canada is a more adventurous experience. The most exciting part of going into Mexico was Whitney deciding to read all of the signs we passed in very bad Spanish. I'd forgotten what it was like to travel with the girl who took a selfie with Napoleon's tomb...

First matter of order upon arrival, WIFI password (ok, well, unpacking and then WIFI password) and food!

Planes, Trains and Oh Wait, Just Planes

The totally brilliant thing about traveling with a laptop is that I can write out my future blog posts in transit. Well, on the airplane at the very least. In the past, I took notes on my iPod of what I was doing during the day or jotted things down in a notebook, but being able to express my feelings at 60 wph (I assume that I type at least that fast – I was the fastest typer in my fifth grade class at 34 words per minute and I’d like to believe that I’ve improved in the past 12 years) during a five-hour flight without a movie or any other form of entertainment is pretty great.

The first flight of the day departed at 5:30 am and brought me to Philly. As previously documented, one of my greatest fears is airplanes (strangely enough, ebola is another one of my greatest fears, but that predates the current epidemic by about eight years) and do you know what is better than putting me 40,000 feet in the air? Putting in an exit row! “Are you ok with being in an exit row, ma’am?” Well, considering the fact that there is nowhere else to go, then yes, I guess I am.

I was supposed to be in seat 11B, meaning the middle seat. I was almost ok with this because being in the middle seat meant that there would be at least one person between me and this civic duty. So, I’m sitting in my seat, about to partake some serious masochism by actually looking at the safety packet (because let’s face it, even when I’m petrified, I’m an overachiever) when a tiny Korean couple comes up the aisle and I can just tell – I’m destined to be the deli meat in their airplane sandwich. This would be the point where I truly doubted my sanity as I immediately offered to let them sit next to each other, putting me up close and personal with the emergency exit. Given the obvious lack of any breaking news reports, I think anyone reading this can tell that my plane made it and I was not required to jump through an airplane window or save any lives today, but still.

I spent a good portion of the flight wondering why people give toddlers iPads. While waiting to board, I saw a kid that couldn’t be older than three totally engrossed in one while he was trying to walk with him mom. The child almost got left behind! Does this actually make sense to anyone? On the plane, I sat behind a woman and her son and immediately after sitting down, the mom asked him if he wanted “his iPad.” This was a child who wasn’t even old enough to buckle his own seatbelt, but apparently he has his very own iPad. I DON’T EVEN HAVE AN IPAD! What exactly are these babies doing with all of this technology? It’s not like they’re on Twitter because they haven’t even learned the basic 26 characters in our alphabet, much less how to make a succinct, grammatically correct, witty post in 140 characters or less. One time, Whitney and I spent the majority of a 5 hour flight playing with pillows. Just regular pillows! And we were WAY older than these kids… Hell, even on our flight to Europe, Whitney’s turtle pillow pet occupied a good half hour of our time.

After landing in Philly, I had to find my way to my next flight. Mid-flight to Philly, I realized that I didn’t have any headphones with me, so I bought some in case there was a movie on the plane (there wasn’t, so now I have some spiffy pink headphones and absolutely nothing to do with them). I was also on a hunt for the latest Vanity Fair which has Jennifer Lawrence on the cover, but nope, my hunt was in vain. I got a little bit lost which doesn’t make any sense because all I needed to do was walk in a straight line and then I had a pretzel for breakfast. Go ahead and judge me, I don’t care! Pretzels are delicious.

I really believe that traveling brings out the worst in many people. Case and point: Despite the questionable hygiene of these things, I think that lying down on one’s tray table is one of the more comfortable ways to sleep on a plane. Unless you’re sitting behind a jerk like the guy in front of me who really wanted to recline in his chair. I will admit that my preferred sleeping position might impede a fellow traveler from partaking in this luxury but how many times are you going to wake me up by slamming your back into your chair? I’m sure we could come up with a compromise that would include a traumatic brain injury! In case you think I’m being hypersensitive/paranoid (which are most traits that I most certainly possess in spades), I caught this guy looking at me as clearly as I caught the guy who was “just trying to read my shirt” earlier in the day. I truly hope that these guys have great moms because I can’t see how they’ll ever get another woman to love them when they act like this. 

It's Almost Here!

I have been awake since 3 am. Roughly 19 hours.

Given our bizarre travel schedule, I had to get up to drive my dad to the airport. I shall be following in his footsteps and leaving the house in 5-6 hours. My dad took a suitcase for both of us, so most of my luggage is already on the west coast, but have I finished packing my carry on? Absolutely not.

On a separate note, this is the first time I will be bringing my laptop with me to blog -- I used an iPod in South Africa and Whitney's laptop in Europe. My laptop is named Chip and he is very excited to be going on vacation with me.

I am bad at packing. I am good at binge-watching The Mindy Project. I should be able to do these things at the same time, but I am also bad at multitasking.

Things I should be doing: packing
Things I am not doing: packing

To be fair, there are more items on both lists, but few of them are quite as time sensitive, because my luggage leaves with Chuck on Saturday at 3 in the morning. I have two days to get my act together... this might be a national disaster.

Let's not even think about the natural disasters, because thanks to the Smart Traveler's Enrollment Program, I was notified of the Category 3 Hurricane in Tijuana over the weekend. The ten day forecast is looking good now, but still! Not exactly what someone is looking to get away from the depressing grey of constant rain wants to hear. Fingers crossed for warm!!!

We just went ahead with our currency conversion! I'm not going to lie -- ordering pesos is a lot more satisfying than ordering euros. Pesos make you feel rich while euros just remind you about the sad state of our economy.

One Month From Today

So, if you read my previous post about our travel plans, you will know that I leave exactly one month from today. This is very exciting for obvious reasons and I just went to the public library and took out a book on Mexico because I am the designated travel guide.

I think it is a little funny that responsibility of research/planning has now fallen to me since until yesterday, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to go. Now that my presence has been verified, however, my father and sister seem willing to take advantage of it.

Since we are not going to a major city, this is going to be a bit like planning the visit to Capri over the summer -- I'll have to do more digging to find out what we want to do. I'd like to state for the record, however, that no matter how much I read, I will not be able to identify and give background information on each and every building we pass despite what my sister thinks.

Side bar: Feeling a little un-American because I was out of the country on the 4th of July and now I'll be missing Columbus Day as well. Although I personally believe that Columbus Day should actually  be called Mass-Murdering, Miscalculating, Dumbass Explorer Day, who doesn't like a three day weekend? America was built on three day weekends.

Rosarito Beach

And the winner of the mysterious, mystical October vacation is Mexico!! Rosarito Beach, obviously, given the title of this post. October 12-18th.

Getting there and back is going to be a tidbit insane, and by a tidbit, I mean, I don't think three related people heading to the same destination have ever had more ridiculous travel plans. First off, we are all flying into San Diego then crossing the border, but that is totally normal compared to the rest of our plans.

• My dad is leaving Boston at 5:30am on October 11th. I'm not going with him. I'm leaving Boston at 5:30am on October 12th. 
• I get to have a nice layover in Philly and should arrive in CA at exactly 10:16am local time. 
• Whitney is leaving from Charlotte, NC on October 12th as well, flying to Houston and she should finally arrive in San Diego at 10:27am local time. 
• And then we have to come home -- once again, you would assume that since my dad and I are both coming back to Boston that we'd fly together this time. Your assumption is wrong, since my dad is leaving on October 17th and I'll be leaving on the 18th.
• Whitney is also leaving on the 18th, but she'll be flying back to school obviously. All of this seems fine and dandy, except that my direct flight home leaves at 9:15 am and hers doesn't leave until 1:11pm. Although slightly inconvenient, I do not believe this will be an issue for Whitney, who will simply search the airport for a Pinkberry -- she even has written a song for such occasions (it goes like this: "I really, really, really want Pinkberry." She's such a songbird! I don't know how she does it).

Also, yes, you read that correctly, I have a direct flight back to Boston, which makes me the defacto winner of these shenanigans, except for the fact that I still hate planes.

So, now I need to go figure out what one does at Rosarito Beach. I have a feeling that it is simply sit in the sun (or for me it might be sit in the sun, then go to hotel room so you can blog about sitting in the sun) and I think I am qualified to do that. 

Planning

So, without jinxing anything, I am going to write about how we are currently in the throws of planning a little getaway in October. Like I said, I don't want to jinx anything, so I will not disclose any potential locations but I will say that the one requirement that they all have in common is "warm."

This potential vacation came about thanks to Grandma's timeshare points, so that a) narrows down potential destinations and b) saves us some money, which is the reason we can afford to go anywhere at all. Booking a hotel is the slightly easier component of planning -- the tricky bit is that we'll have to book a hotel before we can book plane tickets and the plane tickets are the part of the equation that will make all of us want to smash our faces with bricks.

AIRPLANES, my favorite subject! Not only are airplanes terrifying, they are also expensive (please note, I'm still paying my parents back for my airfare to Europe). $$$ obviously plays a big role in deciding where to go except we have frequent flyer miles! Sounds like that will save the day, right?! WRONG! Because frequent flyer miles come with strings attached, mainly when you can leave and when you can return. So, while my dad, Whitney and I have plenty of miles to go around, that doesn't mean that we can actually use them!! Crossing my fingers over here...

And guess what?! To make it all more complex, we won't all be flying out of Logan Airport here in beautiful Boston because Whitney goes to school in North Carolina! (For the record, this trip will be during her fall break -- yes, her school has one of those -- so don't worry, her studies will not suffer from our adventure). My dad and I will be flying together and Whitney will just have to fend for herself, I guess.

Finally, I haven't even started to think about how I am going to ask for time off from the jobs that I haven't even started yet (I do, in fact, have actual jobs that will be beginning soon)...

Long story short, people probably spend more time planning their vacations than actually going on them.

And the saga of the untitled October trip is to be continued... #Cliffhanger

"This is where Jesus lives, right?"

We went to the church of all churches today -- the Vatican. My main concern about going to the Vatican was not about being a half-Jewish/not even close to Catholic girl but was simply hoping that the other tourists in the Vatican weren't jerks when we were all so close to God...

I don't think people really cared where they were in relation to God because they were just as obnoxious as always and no one seemed to appreciate when I stated that I shouldn't have to wait in line because I am, after all, one of God's chosen people whether the Catholic church admits it or not. I think I will have to come back to Europe just so I can teach everyone the concept of personal space and how to apologize after you elbow someone (me) in the head.

It was actually really hard to find our way around the Vatican when we first got there because they had really poor signage; when my mom commented on this, I said that it was done on purpose because God works in mysterious ways... [this is where my mom rolled her eyes -- a maneuver she repeated frequently as I continued to make unfortunate, yet entirely harmless, religion-based jokes]

If you ever find yourself at the Vatican, I highly suggest booking your tour of the museum/Sistine Chapel online like we did because it meant we could sleep in this morning and happily pass everyone else who was stuck in line. Booking online didn't spare us all of the drama though -- we were big nerdburgers and also pre-booked the audio tour, which would have been great if they'd given us the right tickets when we first got there, instead we had to run up and down a whole bunch of stairs and argue with a lot of people who were convinced that they knew what we were trying to say before we'd even started talking until we could finally get our guides and start our tour. During this fiasco, my mom made a joke worthy of me and said "If I die in the Vatican, do I go to Heaven faster?" Thankfully, we did not find that out.

All of the art in the Vatican is incredible, but people are still awkward, so it was often crowded and uncomfortable. After you've gotten through/survived the Vatican museum, you get to the reason why 99% of the people are there -- the Sistine Chapel.

Ceiling to floor of Michelangelo/Renaissance perfection, the Sistine Chapel is glorious. With the audio guide, I got to hear all sorts of things about Michelangelo's Last Judgment and although the facts were rather dry and it felt like it would never end, I learned a lot and really got to appreciate what I was seeing.

We also visited St. Peter's Basilica. And I had thought I was churched-out... This place was unlike any of the other churches I've visited in the past three weeks or ever and while I still haven't decided what my favorite church is, this one is a contender. While each church I've visited has been spectacular in its own way, I felt like I could stay in St. Peter's for days and still not see everything.

Also after hunting through literally all of Rome for postage stamps and coming up empty, I was able to buy them at the Vatican so my mail is now Pope approved!

And now, a moment of silence as this is the last day of the trip and I must start my big girl life when I get home tomorrow. Or I could just run away in the middle of the night and assume a new identity and stay in Europe forever which is a serious possibility.

Back to the Beach

Today we escaped the heat and crowds in Rome for the coastline (I know, it's shocking since we clearly hate the beach). Whitney's school was "organizing" a field trip there, so we were able to tag along with her and her friends instead of having to navigate independently.

I used quotation marks for the word "organizing" because getting there was an absolute mess. The group was probably 40 or 50 people (plus two trip leaders and two Jaffe stowaways) so when the first bus came to take everyone to the train station, only half of the group could get on and we were left to wait for the next bus. When that bus came, we still couldn't fit all of the remaining people on and since there was only one remaining "leader" we couldn't take the bus. The leader wanted us to stay and wait for another bus to come by but we suggested that we just walk there since it was only about 15-20 min away. Brilliant. At the train station, we had to buy tickets -- the students didn't know this, mostly because no one ever seems to pay for public transportation in Rome but also because they'd been told that this was a free trip. The train itself was death and we had to ride it all the way to the very last stop. When we got to said stop and disembarked the trip leaders basically said, well, be free -- what they neglected to say was that the free beach that the students had been promised was actually two kilometers away and that you needed to pay to go to the beach that we'd been dropped off at. Everyone is not hoping that these will not be the people responsible for handling the weekend trips to Tuscany and Capri that Whitney will be taking with the school.

This beach was very different from those in Capri -- first off, it was cheaper. But it was an actual sand beach! Susan collected some sand, obviously, but this was black sand and as far as we can remember Susan doesn't have any black sand (for those of you who are wondering, my mother has sand from the coasts of Cohasset, California, Sydney, Australia; Perth, Australia; the Cape of Good Hope and probably more). I'm not sure that this sand was any more conducive to walking than the rocks in Capri were though because it was burning hot.

The water here was probably warmer than in Capri, but not nearly as clear. I could still see my feet, but it was murky. Another major difference were the waves! This beach had them while Capri had none and floating on your back over waves -- the amount of buoyancy was the same in both place -- is a lot of fun.

While my mom succeeded in finding sand, I was also able to find more shells! When we first got there, I was a little disappointed because my first search yielded very few results and what I did find looked very similar to what I'd found at Capri so there would be no way of telling them apart. This all changed when Whitney's friend, Mustache Will (named for his very distinctive handlebar mustache... although it isn't as good of a nickname as my Woodchuck Will) came out of the water with all sorts of shiny things. He said that you needed to walk out a little further and just feel around with your feet... easily enough done and I found all sorts of exciting things. These things are quite different from my shells from Capri as well -- my shells from Capri are mostly an assortment of colorful curly-q gastropod shells while the shells I found today were monstrous, metallic oyster shells. I found wayyy too many to take with me so after careful examination, I chose my favorites and let Whitney's friends fight over the rest.  Bringing these home is about as practical as bringing home the rocks from Capri, but I'm doing it and paperweights for everyone!

Also, despite my use of SPF 70, I am really dark now... So dark, in fact, that while I'm sitting in the lobby of our hotel to get a legitimate WIFI signal, I just had two different people come over to me and ask me if I speak English because they thought I was Italian and worked here.

What Dreams Are Made Of

If you think I've already made too many Lizzie McGuire references in this blog, you're probably right, but I'm not the least bit sorry for it.

Ya know that thing we've been doing so well, where we get up at dawn to beat the crowds at whatever sight we're going to see? That didn't work out for us today because we overslept. Luckily, however, the Coliseum is a big place so we didn't have a problem getting in.

When I say big, I mean it. (Although, because we nerded out and got the incredibly long and detailed audio guide, we did learn that the Coliseum's name is not a reference to it's colossal size). There was one major flaw in our visit and that was that I forgot to say "Sing to me, Paolo" and do the move until we'd already exited the Flavian Amphitheater, but better late than never, I guess.

After that, we visited the Roman Forum. Nothing funny happened on our way/while we were there unless you count getting hot and sweaty. If this breaks your musical theatre-loving heart, one funny thing to happen today was when we bought our tickets for the Coliseum and my mother told a woman that I was 23... I'm not 23 and I think my mom should know that because I'm under the belief that she was there when I was born. My mom was a bit disappointed by the Forum and I really don't think she appreciated me shouting "Where them Virgins at?" as we looked for the Temple of Vesta and the living quarters of the Vestal Virgins. The whole thing was sort of a bunch of mismatched "buildings" (mostly ruins and the occasional sign that declared where something used to be) and there were a lot of cobblestones to trip over. She did have me take a lot of pictures for her high school Latin teacher though, but I found this particularly strange since she isn't in touch with him and because he's probably dead.

After the Forum and its non-fun, we got lunch and then it was time for one of my favorite tourism activities ever -- the hop on/hop off bus!!! This was Susan's first hop on/hop off experience and I think she did very well (if you think that getting on and off one of these buses isn't hard, then you clearly haven't seen 99% of the people who try to do it).

We took the bus to the Trevi Fountain to make our wishes just like Lizzie McGuire did... except not really because there wasn't any water in the Fountain; there was scaffolding. Apparently the Fountain is under construction (which I'd heard in Venice, but was hoping that would no longer be the case). We could still see a lot of the Fountain though and were super impressed with what we could see. Also, because Rome is smart, they set of a little area of water where you could still throw in a coin and make a wish. I will say that Disney let me down a bit here because my wish for adventure was not immediately granted in the form of an Italian pop star.

We walked a few blocks from the Fountain to the Spanish Steps -- another one of the places visited by Ms. McGuire. I showed some restraint here by not doing a cartwheel as seen in a certain movie that shall remain nameless but has already been referenced like six times in this singular blog post.

After that, we got on our bus and found our way back to our hotel where we now await the arrival of one Ms. Whitney Jaffe who shall be dining with us this evening.

When (Back) In Rome

We spent our last few hours in Capri doing some last minute shopping before returning to the water. Instead of going back to Marina Piccola, we went to Punta Carena and the lighthouse. The lighthouse was a lighthouse and while it was important at some point during the history of Capri, we enjoyed it from afar and didn’t get a closer look. My mom said that Punta Carena was a beach; this is not true, it was a stretch of rocky coastline where you could jump straight into the crystal, clear water.  I would say that this would be a better hideout for mermaids/sirens than Marina Piccola, but I am neither Homer nor a Homer scholar so my opinion on the matter is moot. To get down to the water, you had to walk down the rocks and over the hoards of sunbathers, who all resembled lazy seals on the beach, and then you just dive right in (or take the ladder, which is what I did). Once again, it was impossible to tell how deep the water was and since I couldn’t simply walk in and get even the slightest bearings that way, I don’t think I’ll ever actually know.

After my mother was dragged away from her new dream home, we were on the ferry and off the island, headed back to Rome. Ferry to train, train to taxi and taxi to hotel. The most interesting (and by “interesting” I mean equal parts difficult and mortifying) was when we thought we wouldn’t make it on the train if we walked all of the way back to our compartment, so we got on in the 4^th cart and walked all of the way back to the 11^th.

We’re staying at the same hotel we stayed in the night before we dropped Whitney off – at least, we thought we were. When we got to the hotel, they inexplicably (or maybe it was explicable but we still haven’t mastered the language barrier) had us shuffle down the street to another hotel/apartment building and that is where we are now.

My mom is also making fun of my newfound FIFA addiction and subsequent withdrawal – when we first got back to Rome, we couldn’t find the game (France v. Germany) on our TV and I was distraught. I still think that soccer (or football… is it pretentious if I call it football now?) is a really awful sport, but I need my FIFA!!! I settled by channel surfing until I found Gilmore Girls in Italian, which eased the pain a little but after numerous attempts, we managed to find the right channel (it was #1…) and now I’m happily watching Brazil v. Columbia (Brazil just scored!)

The only way I'm getting my mother to agree to leave here is by promising that someday, I will buy her a house in Anacapri that will be full of the custom-made leather sandals she can't afford and a little Italian lady who will teach her how to speak the language and cook pasta. This is a promise that I fully intend on keeping by the way and I might throw in a motor boat so she won't have to take the ferry when she comes here.

Italy is seriously lacking in their 4th of July spirit. Just saying...

Our Day in the Mediterranean

My mom rises much earlier than Whitney does, so early starts are getting easier and easier. We bagged the boat tour around the island when we saw all of the morning haze -- it wasn't a cloudy day, we just weren't in the mood. 

Deciding not to go on the boat tour meant that we could head over to Villa Jovis, and by head over, I mean up. Villa Jovis is the second highest point in Capri, but unlike the highest, Monte Solaro, there isn't a chairlift. It is the remains of a palace built by the Roman emperor, Tiberius, in 27 AD. I don't think that it had originally been on our "must-see" list or even a planned destination at all, but Oscar Wilde mentions Tiberius and his palace on Capri in passing in the most plot-less chapter (11) of his not-so-thinly veiled social commentary, The Picture of Dorian Gray, so I decided that we should go and my mother decided to indulge this whim.

She probably regretted that decision as when we got halfway through our 90 minute walk to the summit. Actually, she told me that; she also said that if I rushed through looking at the ruins, she would throw me off the cliff like Tiberius apparently did to his wives. 

Clearly I was not thrown off the cliff. The ruins were very cool -- I'm not really sure why Tiberius felt the need to make this specific location his home, especially when it was practically unaccessible and he apparently had twelve other smaller castles on the island, but we went, we saw and we conquered. I think we might have been more excited by it all if we a) weren't completely exhausted and b) weren't going to see all sorts of ruins in Rome, but Rome won't give us an incredible panoramic view of Capri, so there's that.

The walk back down was not nearly as treacherous and took less than half the time as well. We got lunch and then a lemon slush for dessert (because lemons are a big deal here). During lunch, we spent a little time debating what we should do next -- should we take the bus to Marina Piccola and go to the beach or go look for another boat tour? I voted for the beach and because I'm equal parts logical and obnoxious, my mom agreed. 

Someone, somewhere along the way decided that Marina Piccola was where Ulysses was apparently seduced by the sirens and I can see why -- I actually think it seduced my mom as well because she didn't want to leave and is now saying that she is never going to leave Capri at all. When we got there, we decided to rent chairs and sit on the private side of the beach because we hate co-habitating with the unwashed masses (plus we didn't have any chairs or towels of our own and this simplified things). 

Susan wasn't feeling the beach at first, mostly because it was a rock beach and not a sand beach. I must admit, rock beaches are a lot more painful than their traditional counterparts, but that doesn't usually deter me. Once we'd found our spot, I practically had to drag her into the water -- the crystal clear water, the absolutely perfectly beautiful, crystal clear water. I think it's sort of sad when sea water looks clearer than your swimming pool at home, but that is what we were dealing with. We were pretty graceless getting in (it goes back to that whole rock beach thing, because hot rocks and slippery rocks are not conducive to walking and we had both) but after that, things were glorious.

The really crazy thing about the water was that you couldn't tell how deep it was. At one point, we swam all of the way out to the edge of the swimming area and we could still see the bottom; the only way I knew was if my feet were touching the ground. Also, I naturally sink. One time, Whitney told me that her superpower was buoyancy and since I'm made of lead, I would actually believe that, but in the Mediterranean, you float, so that was another new and exciting experience for me. 

My mom also has this thing about collecting sand from the different beaches we've visited, but since this was a rock beach, it meant hunting for the perfect rocks to bring home. (Rocks are clearly not practical souvenirs, but as long as they don't have to go in my suitcase, I'm ok with it). I also went looking for sea shells because they're shiny and much easier to carry than ya know, rocks. 

I can't tell you how long we spent at the beach because I honestly don't know. We went from the early afternoon until they were closing up, but it was too relaxing to worry about the time! 

"Neh-ver lee-ving" -- Susan Jaffe

Capri so far

What has happened to us on Capri so far? I'm glad you asked.

This morning, we got up early and ready to start our day. I put on a thick layer of SPF 900 because I think the only thing worse than getting a sunburn on vacation would be Hell itself and it is hot and sunny here. 

We took the bus to the Grotta Azzurra (Blue Grotto) this morning at 8 in our on-going attempt to not deal with crowds and that was a great plan, except that tours didn't start there until 9. Faced with that, we decided to get back on the bus and return to our hotel for some breakfast. After breakfast it was back to the Blue Grotto, which was then open for business. 

I'd like to take a moment to state that we were not the only people who didn't realize that they weren't open until 9 and that we couldn't find any signage to assist us figure out what the hours were until we hunted through one of our guide books -- laboring over every word and sentence -- where we found the answer hiding in like size 0 font. 

When we returned, things were booming -- while it had been a ghost town at 8, a few hours made all the difference because there were charter boats were floating outside the Grotto and about 2 dozen canoes were vipping back and forth to take tourists inside. 

So a "grotto" is defined as a small, picturesque cave, and boy, was the entry into this Grotto small. We had to lie down, flat on our backs, to fit through. I wasn't 100% convinced that the boat was even going to fit and with the waves knocking against, I'm actually convinced that I died in that moment.

The revelation that I'd died was probably a pretty common one here, since once inside the Grotto, you saw colors that only a god could have imagined. Those colors would be blue, obviously, but it was the type of blue that makes artists throw away their work because they'll never truly be able to capture something so perfect. It's the sun's reflection through the seawater that creates this picture for those of you who were wondering about the science behind this.

Because my mom makes friends with EVERYONE, our tour guide from the Blue Grotto is giving us a private ride around the island tomorrow (we're paying him for the charter, of course, but it's way cheaper than what we were planning on paying someone else). He also offered to let us take a quick swim in the Grotto, which is most definitely illegal. Not to implicate my mother in any international crimes, but one of us went in and it wasn't me. 

We then visited the historic center of Anacapri. Susan wanted to visit the various churches and I went along, even though I'm getting close to being churched-out and am saving the last of my stamina for the Vatican. We ate lunch at Ristorante Barbarossa; Barbarossa was apparently a pirate and you could apparently see his castle from the restaurant, but we didn't see it so something is wrong with us or the guidebook. My mom kept saying Barbosa -- sorry, Mom, he isn't real, neither is Jack Sparrow and we're visiting the wrong sea anyways. I ordered pizza (what a surprise!) and unlike everywhere else in Italy and the world, where it is either a small, one-person pizza and/or cut up into slices, this was one giant pie and I was left to fend for myself. Mom and I also split some calamari and it came with these monster lemons that were about the size of apples; they gave us more lemon than squid!

Although we didn't leave Anacapri, we ventured out a little further to visit the Villa San Michele, which was a big house built by this Swedish doctor/author, Axel Munthe, who along with being rather eccentric, probably had some side action going on with the Queen of Sweden. (Although the museum did not confirm nor deny this statement, it was heavily implied from their provided information). So, Axel was an animal lover, a collector of antiquities and obsessed with death and when combined with copious amounts of money these factors will lead to a unique household. At a whopping 327 meters high, this house had glorious views of the entire island and Mt. Vesuvius (this is where Whitney would have taken a panoramic photo if she were here). The best part, however, was Axel's mysterious sphinx statue that looks away from his house. It's apparently impossible to see the face from the property but if you touch it's hindquarters with your left hand and make a wish, that wish will come true. So, yes, Nemo touched the butt and I touched the butt.

After that, we took the chairlift to the top of Monte Solaro. It didn't occur to me until I was on the lift that I don't think I've ever actually been on a real ski lift before and that I don't think I like it. About halfway through the 13-minute ride from the ground to the summit, I started to release my death grip and enjoy myself a little bit. Would I do it again? Well, I had to to get back down, so yes. 

Monte Solaro is the highest point in Capri at 589 meters, meaning that this is the other part of the day where Whitney would have used the panoramic function on her iPhone. It made the view from Axel's house a tid bit insignificant. 

After that, we returned to our hotel. The thing about our hotel is that it has a sister hotel and this sister hotel is like the cooler, older sister that has a swimming pool and a restaurant and who everyone wants to hang out with; since we are staying here, we get a free shuttle to go over there and we decided to take advantage of that. It was glorious; pools are nice even when there are parents yelling the most horrible things at their children (and we heard a lot of screaming and while I'm not sure what the Italian parents were saying, the American parents were pretty ruthless with their kids). Mom was disappointed that the water wasn't warmer, I was disappointed that she barely went in the water with me, but I got to swim and we both got to soak up some sun, so no one was unhappy. (Also, a pool with a view? Epic!). 

Now we are back at our real hotel, where I am celebrating having worn a bikini in public for the first time in like 10 years by eating Oreos and examining my tans lines (I reapplied my SPF 900, which was really SPF 70, at least three times today and I still got some color -- a lot of color, actually). My mom has disappeared in true Susan-fashion and eventually we shall start preparing for our evening activities -- a return trip to our big sister hotel for dinner and the sunset with my mom's intern from work and her family (yeah, Susan has an intern; she's a big deal).

We have internet in Capri!

This should be obvious because otherwise, I wouldn't be blogging, but it's still quite exciting.

Our journey to the island of Capri was a long one and our trip to our hotel in Anacapri was an even longer one, so buckle up kids, it's story time.

After we moved Whit in, we were on the bus to the train station and then it was the train station to the boat. I'll skip the bus and train portions because everyone has been on a bus and/or a train and can imagine a rather dull ride for themselves. The only difference was that this bus ride took us past the Coloseum.

So the ferry... Ahhh. Yeah, about that. It's roughly 45 minutes from Naples to Capri and for whatever, reason, this ferry was full of people who made me want to jump overboard before we'd even left the port. We sat on the top level so we could enjoy the view and while there was lots to look at, we couldn't actually see anything because our fellow passengers were so determined to take photographs of everything! There was a woman with the iPad who seemed to be on a mission to videotape the whole ride. Why yes, ma'am, that is Mt. Vesuvius but do you really need to relive every second you spent looking at it, from a boat, for the rest of time? There was the other woman who wanted to take pictures of the scenery and then pictures of her family in front of the scenery and then pictures of her self in front of the scenery and didn't seem to mind elbowing me in the head to do it. She almost fell over at one point but don't worry, she used my backpack to save herself, crushing half of my things in the process. Didn't even stop to thank my backpack for performing a civil service either... Tsk tsk. Other than that, Suze just wanted to know why the water didn't look as blue as she thought it would (it looked blue once we got into shallow water and that satisfied her).

Getting off the boat was difficult, partially because we were still on the boat with the same horrible people but also because the people going back to the mainland were determined to get on the boat before we could get off and they outnumbered us about 20 to 1.

We came into Marina Grande and I'll admit that after the boat ride and dealing with the aforementioned people, I was a bit of a grump. The Marina Grande was a bit like Cape Cod on the 4th of July except that there was more gelato and people carrying umbrellas (seriously though, if you don't want a tan, why did you come to the beach?!). We had to call our hotel to pick us up which meant standing in Marina Grande for a lot longer than anyone would like to after they've been traveling for almost four hours, but we were finally able to escape away.

And I mean away. Anacapri is up in the mountains and absolutely unreal. The roads were paper-thin and swerved like something out of a car commercial. After the smog of fellow travelers, this was a real life Febreeze commercial with a gust of fresh air to sweep away our troubles. And now we're sitting in our room, which was upgraded for no apparent reason, with the window open, listening to various friendly birds and staring at copious amounts of green and blue (plants, ocean and sky). Plus, free wifi.