Cinque Terre (Parte due)

Fun with the chix0rz whilst waiting for sunset @ Manarola :)



Assimilating rock formation :)

Rock Yoga time!

Sun salutation!

Downward Dog!

I stopped at Tree Pose :P After the Pinot Grigio, I would've fallen off the rock.

Cinque Terre (Parte una)

Gawd dang fcking Rick Steeves. Until Cinque Terre, I didn't realise how huge an impact he had on North Americans. I've heard his name in the past, from Canadians, from Americans - all vouching for his greatness as a travel writer.

So. You know It's All Gone Pete Tong when tables of American college brats decamp around you. You'll hear "Rick Steeves" mentioned a fair bit. Out of spite, I'm not linking to him and I'm spelling his name wrong :P Rest assured, it's not just Americans. There are tons of loud, annoying Aussies around too. Bizarrely, both nations outnumber the Italianos.

Personally, I loved Cinque Terre for the walk between towns :) It made me want to get outdoors more! I also went wild with the carbs, vino, birra, pastries and machiattos *grin* I'd go back to try out the tougher walking or bike trails.

Spot the B & Diskies ;)

A few hours ago

Guess where I was :)

Watching everyone do the Leaning Tower of Pisa "push" is hilarious *grin* It's actually quite a skill to get it looking right on the camera. Mega-claps to Diskies for doing such a good job! Poor Diskies though, I couldn't quite get it right when it was her turn to do the pose.

What's even more fun is pretending to do high-fives with other tourists doing the Leaning Tower of Pisa "push" pose *lol*

I must stop kissing girls

... because they always look like this :P

Partying till 5am with short Italianos:

Neptune's Grotto:

Puppy sensing evil sea urchin spines in my toe:

Topping up on my tan:

Group shot! Aaah, what a great holiday!!

Only me

Out in the ripply aqua waters of Sardinia, I paddled (that's _doggy_ style btw) out for a splash. Thinking I was being cool, I paddled a few metres away from the others to a nearby rock ledge.

Me: "HEY, look at me, I can stand over here... OW!"
A small wave splashes and forces me to step forward.
Me: "***OW OW OW!!!***"

I push off the ledge and examine my throbbing right foot under the crystal waters while trying not to drown. I have a GAZILLION splinter-like fiends stuck DEEP in my right toe!!!

Bloody sea urchins! >:( Evillest of creatures!!

Later on, with improvised surgery equipment made up of cottonballs, expired hydrogen peroxide, hot water, two pairs of eyebrow tweezers and a needle from the hotel's sewing kit, we begin the extraction process. I start with the splinter which juts out the most. I dig with the needle. Dig and dig and dig.

I grit my teeth.

With one hand I use tweezers to pull back skin away from the splinter. With the other hand I use the needle to push down skin on the opposite side of the splinter - exposing its ugly brown head.

Me: "B, can you try and pull it out please?"

B uses the second pair of tweezers to grip the splinter head and *YANKS*

I feel a sting and a gush of blood, like a bunghole had been unplugged in my toe. I let out a sigh. The first of many that night, as T, B and I take turns digging into my toe. Each splinter that successfully comes out, no matter how small it is, is a reminder of how something stupid like this could only happen to me on holidays.

Diskies tries to cheer me up, "It could've been worse, at least you didn't sit on it and have it all in your bum!"

I picture T&B joyfully excavating my bum cheeks with needle and tweezers. Now THAT would've been a bonding holiday experience none of us would ever forget :P Grazie Bellas for looking after me :) Sorry for being the holiday retardo!

Carb City

My hard work over the past month to eat in moderation and eat healthily was pretty much ruined by 3 days in Florence. Ahhh well. I'm sorry, but there's no way in hell I can refuse pasta or gelato in Italy.

I seriously have no idea how the Italians manage to fit in about 4 courses in one meal, but I dang well had a good time trying to keep up. Needless to say, I spent most of my money in Florence on food.

When not eating, I managed to fit in the Uffizi Gallery. Home to Botticelli's Birth of Venus. Errr, you know what? Keep in mind that the painting's approximately 600+ years old, and you won't be disappointed by how faded it is. The funny thing with Florence, it's filled with art, history and culture. Yet, the seedier side of human nature will always find a way to defile a masterpiece to make a buck. I hated the sight of all the boxer shorts for sale, with Michelangelo's David's penis printed on the front.

This trip, I tried to play around with camera angles. Not sure how successful I was. It's not as simple as turning the camera diagonally and clicking, as you can see from above *grin* I do like this shot of Ponte Vecchio though:

24

In 24 hours, Jack Bauer "stops bombs, viruses, assassination attempts, and usually saves someone he cares about at the same time".

In 24 hours, B and I flew to Milan; ate pasta; shopped at Prada, D&G, Armani, LV, Gucci, *insert designer name here*; ate more pasta and flew back to Rondon. In fact, we did it all in 23 hours. Take that Jack Bauer.

Milan is Designer City. This is the city where Armani isn't just a shop, it's a department store! It has a Nobu bar/restaurant. It has a homeware floor (I can afford a small bowl). It has multiple levels. This is the city where I can walk into Prada and D&G and *touch* leather bags with no price tags, and not get dirty glares from shop assistants. Wooo, I also tried on every different type of GIANT SUNNIES I could find :) That's as much as I could afford to do. Others though, walked out of shops with giant designer shopping bags. Where on earth do these people get the money to buy these things?!? And why, if they have the money, are they buying clothing items that cost as much as feeding a family for a month?!? And why why why, don't I have friends who have this sort of money? :)

Here's what EU$4000 shoes look like:

Here's the scary gnome shop:

I really should've taken more photos of designer shops, but... it's just not me.