Don’t Ever Help the Local Teens When You’re Traveling on a Foreign Bus

darbyholdingupthetower

Oh my.  I am seriously crying over here.  I was reminded yesterday that my sister, the MOST helpful woman you will ever meet, was inspired on our recent trip to Italy (#sisterchick style) to help the local teenage boys out…on the bus…at the top of her voice.

Here is how the story goes…

We were on the Pisa city bus just, very apparently, not making our way to the Leaning Tower…So there we were.  Hanging out.  Watching the city pass us by, while the locals hopped on and off.  Pushing stop buttons when wanting to exit and stamping tickets when boarding.

We knew we had to get back to the train station—so, you know, we had to basically ride the loop out.

This gave us OODLES of time to get really really really like super really bus savvy.  I mean, we were riding it for like an hour—so we did have it figured out.

Stop button meant people wanted off.  Tickets punched meant people would be riding.

The thing is…the bus was so busy that we were all scattered throughout.  From front to back—dragging our ridiculously heavy suitcases with us—carry-on luggage—and lots and lots of sweat from our over-stuffed train ride to get to Pisa from Florence (but that’s another story).

And in the midst of the bus chaos and complete separation we hear from somewhere in the middle a LOUD and TALL REDHEAD shouting in her best Italian #@$&%!

The bustling, overcrowded, LOUD bus comes to a complete moment of silence===and we, the traveling #sisterchicks, all look towards Darby (my sister) and stare.  Mouths open.

What did she just yell?????

Whatever it was, it brought Italy to a standstill.

No one…foreign or otherwise…knew what to do.

And then we hear her, “I am just trying to help stop the bus.”

All of us, however, came to the conclusion that whatever word the teenage boys were shouting on the bus was probably, very likely, absolutely without a doubt, we are sure of it…not the word STOP!

What word was it?

Well, considering it was teenage boys yelling it…let’s just say it was probably a very naughty word that my sister would most likely punish her own teenagers for saying 😉

Yes, here she was, in a foreign country, yelling it at the top of her lungs!

#$%!@##$#!

Needless to say—the bus did stop.

Talking that is.

Not in motion.

It kept rolling…

Much like our laughter to this day.

Oh, dear friends, wherever you go, if there are teenage boys shouting, keep this in mind…

Don’t repeat what they are saying…ESPECIALLY if it is in a foreign language.

And on a bus!

***

photo credit:  Laura Hocknell; photo caption:  Perspective;  photo subject:  DARBY the bus yeller!!!!!

 

#sisterchicks and what we learned traveling through Italy!

sisterchickstakevenice

“Prego, Madam!  What do you want?  Why do you knock on the door???  IT IS CLOSED!”

An angry Italian woman yelled at my sister as we peered through the only money exchange in site.

Rule number 1:

Italy takes naps…And don’t mess with them.

***

“Brooke, what are you looking at?  That man over there???”

“Yes!” I answered.  

Holy cow, ladies.  Italy is like the land of red carpet.  George Clooney has nothing on these cobble-stone walkers!

Needless to say, cameras come out—click, click, click!

Rule number two:

Be prepared for MANY Italian masterpieces—and not all of them are centuries old or made of marble.

***

“Brooke, is this the water taxi we take back?”  

I look at the scrolling monitor, the platform, the time—and, being the European live-r, answer with confidence, “YES!  It is.  Run!”

We jump on the rocking water taxi in just enough time to be shoved, trampled, and smothered before the chain goes on and the boat pushes off…Our day in Venice is over, and all we have to do now is find the RIGHT bus off of the island and back to our hotel.

What should have been a 15 minute boat ride, however, later turned into a full-circle 1-hour water taxi ride where I REFUSED to ask for directions, because, you know, I KNOW how to live in Europe.

When we came to our original take-off platform, I swallowed my very big pride and asked the woman manning the boat if and when we would get off on our platform—

She chuckled, told us to jump off, and run to the next platform…

Where we then had no money nor tickets, ducked under the railing and hoped beyond measure that the next boat would take us home.

Well—relatively home since we still had a bus and walk in front of us.

It did—and we even ended the night with homemade spaghetti to boot.

Not bad for my ego, eh?

Rule number 3:

Don’t EVER go with Brooke when it comes to directions

***

I need to sanitize my entire body!

My sister-in-law proclaimed after our lively, full, smell-ful bus ride to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, where I—ONCE AGAIN—put us on the wrong public transportation.  A one-hour tour around the extremely lovely city of Pisa with a girlfriend nearby manning the GPS saying, “Wait, we should be at the Leaning Tower in 7 minutes…” The bus proceeds to turn left…”No, wait…now 11 minutes!”  The bus turns right “No, now 15 minutes…”

Yes.  We took a loop bus around the city and didn’t see a scant drop of the Leaning Tower until we arrived BACK at the train station and decided to take a taxi from there.

Which took approximately 4 minutes to the Leaning Tower and only cost $12 Euro for 6 of us.

BUT…we did get to see the otherwise lovely city of PISA—trampled by bus-goers and smothered by no ventilation and holding on for dear, careening life as the bus driver drove like a cowboy.

leaningtower

Rule number 4:

Remember Rule #3!

***

Should we go see the original Masterpiece David or are we okay with the copy????  We all kind-of wondered…

But, HEY…In Florence, so close to a Michelangelo Masterpiece, we decided we better put on our walking shoes and try to make a way…

BEST DECISION EVER!

And, along the way, we got distracted by lovely shopping, open marketplaces, amazing architecture, and couple Dutch college kids that proceeded to point us in the WAY WRONG direction to the David.  Thankfully, we asked a few other joggers for a second opinion…

Where we made it.

I was in awe.

From his feet to his piercing eyes—Michelangelo’s David was probably one of the most magnificent man-made creations I have ever seen.  And I have lived in Europe a long time, have seen beautiful cathedrals and divine paintings.  I have even dined next to original Monet’s …

Upon leaving the university which houses the David, I bought my parents an awesome Florence reconstructed book and what I thought was the most decent (not showing all body parts of David) bookmark…

Upon my sister returning home and giving my parents the gifts, her 11-year-old son flips the bookmark over where David is fully revealed and proclaims, “WELL!  That is highly inappropriate!”

Hahahahahaha!

Gotta love kids!

Which brings me to my final rule of this #sisterchicksposting…

Rule number 5:

See the David…even in all his glory!  It’s a must.  From the gentle way that David is holding the stone in his right hand, to the way the sling is draped over his back…

From the way his feet lead to his legs and the muscles of youthful strength are perfectly carved …

To the way that his eyes are glancing to the left…

To know that a young 26-year-old man carved this masterpiece out of ONE piece of marble…centuries ago in the days when today’s technology did not exist.

SEE THE DAVID!

hiseyes

And, spend way more time in Florence than we did.  It is worth every single drop of your time and days!

***

Well, we #sisterchicks finished our trip strong (the luggage at the cheap airport I’ll address another day)…

And we had a blast.

I can’t wait until these #sisterchicks abandon their husbands and children again where we will then head to ROME!

OR THE WORLD!

Because traveling with #sisterchicks is well worth every drop of time and energy.

Just remember to never follow my directions!

 

Italy…

I don’t have one sick kid.

I don’t have two sick kids.

I have three sick kids…

And…

As much as I love them—

My sis, sil, and girlfriends are coming in T-4 days.

And momma is going to Italy.

Good luck, Daddy????

When Foreigners Meet the US…

Haha!

Okay.  Let me backtrack.

I am sure that each of us, if we have traveled outside of the United States, could give a short synopsis of what we observed, how things were different, what we liked, and what we didn’t like in each foreign country that we visited.  Sometimes the list will be longer for the positives.  Sometimes for the negatives.  And, sometimes, the list will be split down the middle.  Each country is unique and different.  And not ours.  Therefore, the list and experiences go on and on and on.

On Yahoo, they posted an article about other visitors to the US, and their observations.  I loved reading what someone from each different country had to say about his/her observations in the United States.  I must say, however, that I don’t quite think that I would open the refrigerator at a stranger’s house.  Now, if I were at a friend’s house, that’s a different story.

Anyhow, I hope that you enjoy the read.  Before you start, however, I will start with a few of my fun observations of my short visits to other countries, too.

1.  Mexico—While we were being all touristy and stuff on our honeymoon, we took a dune buggy ride into some very rural back villages.  Villages, if that is what you can call them.  We passed rivers where women were washing clothes before we made a stop at a very small village store (store being used lightly).  At the store I noticed that, although it was the middle of the day, most children were roaming around instead of being at school.  Therefore I asked, “What time do you guys go to school?”  The answer, “Our teacher travels into our village two days a week.  That’s when we go to school.”

I absolutely LOVE Mexico, but at that moment I realized education is a valued privilege in so many parts of the world.  These kids, I am more than sure, when those two days of school rolled around, were eager participants to attend and happy to learn.

As we drove off, I left thinking, “Man, there is so much I could learn from those kids in regards to appreciation.”

2.  Italy (Venice)—So, we had just traveled all over Venice and came to an opening.  It’s largely crowded islands with many narrow passages, bridges, and, of course, spectacular canals.  Venice, itself, is a blog posting on its own, but as we came into this slightly larger opening, I was enthralled.  Laundry hung out windows, children played football in their miniscule space between walls, tourists, and this one, lone cafe.

While dodging the children’s football, we were so happy to find this cafe that we proceeded to occupy one of the few tables, making ourselves comfortable, and ordering, happily.  After all, we were in Venice, Italy.  Happiness and good coffee both abound!

Now, you need to understand that we (2 Americans) were in Italy with:  1 Venezuelan, 1 Pole, 1 Norwegian, and 1 Sri Lankan.  Despite our varied countries backgrounds, we all ordered the same drink and in unison said, “6 Lattes, please!”

Minutes later our waiter brought a tray out to us, but we were sure that he had to be at the wrong table.  After all, we had said, “Lattes!”  And what was coming toward us were tall glasses of frothing milk.

Ummm…what would we do?  Our Norwegian friend took charge, “Sir, we ordered Lattes.”

Waiter—blank stare.  “These are lattes.”

And that’s when it hit us, “Caffe lattes,” after all, we were in Italy.  Home of some of coffee’s finest.

But, of course being in Italy, everything ended happily anyway.  Our waiter graciously took our frothing milk back and added a shot of espresso to each just for our drinking pleasure.

What did we learn?  While in Italy, make sure you order caffe with your latte!

3.  Germany—Being neighbors with Germany, we have actually spent quite a bit of time there.  When we first moved to Poland the borders were still closed.  So, if we flew into Berlin, we traveled to Poland by train, which meant we had to make sure that we had our passports available and handy at the German/Polish border.

First we had to get the “All clear” from the German border patrol.  But that wasn’t all, then we had to get the same “All clear” from the Polish border patrol.

It’s not that it was a problem, but it was always time consuming.  And, because we were usually coming from America, we always had our bulging luggage with us.  Which means that the German border patrol would find our large, overstuffed suitcases oddities (most people travel the trains with very light luggage or backpacker packs).  Hence a very thorough check of each suitcase in our possession took place.  And just as the German border patrol would give the “All clear” on our luggage, the Polish border patrol would come by and examine our luggage, too.

Also, because the borders were closed, it was always interesting as you watched the border patrol agents carefully exam each passport.  Our across the lane neighbor, once, obviously did not have a passport or name pleasing to the agents as he was escorted from the train when his did not receive the “All clear”.  Let me say, I am glad my passport or name was always authentic and in good standing.

Anyhow, back to Germany.  So not only did we fly into Berlin, we would also drive through Germany if going to countries such as Austria or Italy.  On one trip through Germany our daughter got violently ill.  We actually thought she had appendicitis.  We typed “hospital” on our GPS and found one just miles away.  While they ran all of their tests on Adelyne, I went to the little cafe to get something to drink.  Low and behold, in the German hospital cafe, they were serving beer.

Now, I was surprised.  But should I have been?

What did I learn in Germany?  Octoberfest occurs everywhere (smile and wink), and, I guess, beer will make you feel better.

4.  Poland—It’s fitting I mention Poland since we were once newbies there.  Let’s see.  I’m loud.  And we were on a tram (public trolley-type enclosed car—maybe known as light rail in the States).  There was something funny said, and I belly laughed!  All eyes on the tram.  On me.  Not a single smile but mine and my friend’s.  It’s then that I noticed the tram.  Complete silence.  Not a single sound.

I learned my lesson that day.  When entering a Polish tram, you sit, preferably next to the window, with or without a book, and either A. Read your book or B. Stare out the window of the tram.  C Never takes place:  C.  Talk and laugh hysterically.  Because.  Because nothing on a tram is worth discussing or funny (smile and wink 2).

No.  Joking.  I definitely learned that day that I, most VERY likely, was the perfect depiction of “Loud American” to every Polish passenger on that tram.  Funny thing, though, my loud friend was not American (and obviously not Polish).  Had the passengers of the tram known that it would have rocked their socks.  Another loud culture out there in the world?  Impossible!

What did I learn, for real, that day on the Polish tram?  That I could turn my volume button down a few notches and not find the world quite as funny.  No.  Kidding again.  I learned that just because it’s your nature to be loud or funny, you can definitely be respectful of where you are and the people around you.  You don’t have to be as loud as you find the situation.  Learning about another culture doesn’t mean that you have to give up who you are.  It means that you are respectful of where you are and who you are with.

Well, enough of my observations.  Finally, here you go, the link to the Yahoo article.  I hope that you enjoy reading the observations of others as much as I did!

Yahoo article:  Don’t Drink the Water: Translated Travel Tips for Coming to America:

http://travel.yahoo.com/blogs/compass/don-t-drink-water-visitors-travel-tips-coming-194949993.html