31st July, 0003hrs Saturday. Train – Rome to Nice. Rome.

It’s gone dark. Sorry.

1055hrs Nice-Ville station

Europe’s a small continent. Gemma and I have just bumped into Nicky and Brian from the ferry from Brindisi to Corfu. Bizarre. They’re bound for Barcelona having come from Cinqueterra.

Last night’s train was not my favourite one so far. We got a reasonable compartment with only four other people, but at certain stops we exchanged one short person for two incredibly tall ones. Great. I slept fitfully – when the train was moving ( a seemingly rare occurrence) it was very fast and consequentially very noisy.

We arrive in Paris at about 7am tomorrow morning. It’ll be Sunday, so we’ll ring Olivier and see if we can dump our bags/crash tomorrow night/have Herve’s flat for the night...I hope so! Tonight will be our last European train ride, and marks the end of my totting up the cost of getting home on my Barclaycard. Is it more than the cost of the Interrail ticket? Let’s see...

Italy first time: Florence-Naples £20, Naples-Brindisi £20

Greece: Patras-Olympia £1.80 (oooooh), Olympia-Patras £1.80, Patras-Athens £2.80, Athens-Patras £2.80, Patras-Brindisi £16, Brindisi-Rome £16.50, Rome-Nice £25.10, Nice-Paris £48.20 (ouch!).

Grand total - £154.80

Cost of Interrail in Spain - £167!

Hmm, that’s close, and on the good side.

1300hrs, A park in Nice

I am, without the faintest shadow of a doubt, exhausted. We’re stopped here for lunch (a more traditionally ‘us’ baguette with cheese (EDAM-type stuff from Rome)) and now we’re going to the beach so that I can crash, Gemma can veg, and we can both try to regain some semblance of normal lack of fatigue. It has been many miles and a few too many night trains and boats since Crete. It hasn’t been especially gruelling – we’ve had particularly unstressful days (apart from in Rome) – but it has meant we’ve had very little sleep. I know that if I sleep a lot today, my rhythms will be finally shot to pieces, I won’t sleep tonight and Paris will be less colourful as a result. Heigh ho.

Nice seems a really, um, pretty town. Just right for relaxing in. Aaaaaah.

1845, Back in Nice-Ville station

We’ve had a doze on the beach (a bit stony, but our roll-mats came to the rescue), I’ve done a little shopping, buying CDs of songs we learned in the mountains, and now Gem’s nipped off for some food for our journey. I only started collecting country/flag patches for my backpack in Greece, but thanks to a shop with other country’s patches, I’m only missing one for Morocco, and I think maybe ‘Au Vieux Campeur’ in Paris might have one. Cool.

30th July 1255hrs Friday. Piazza San Pietro, The Vatican City.

Yesterday was a great day. Our intended siesta/repose never materialised and we did lots. After having breakfast at the pension we went to the internet cafe, got some laundry done (gleaming white T-shirt for the homeward journey!) and shopped for lunch.

We went to the Colosseum. A scaffolding-clad amount of brick greeted us from the metro station when it first hove into view, and I had a similar (but more short-lived) reaction to that at the Parthenon, but about 80% of it wasn’t under scaffold, so it was bearable. After the four of us (still us, Daena and Eric) had waded through the custom gladiators (“Can I kill you?”), we went inside. It was impressive. It must have been immense. After a brief stroll around we took a free tour and I was astounded at the amount of death, torture and destruction that took place there throughout its history.

To inaugurate the place, there were 100 days of ‘games’ with (on average) one human or animal death every thirty minutes in that time. It was horrifying, but involving. It was bakingly hot – when there were 80,000 people in there it must’ve been like an oven.

After that we went back to the hostel, cooked and ate dinner – pasta, tuna, sweetcorn with melted cheese, and a glorious bottle of Chianti ’97, courtesy of Eric.

The night tour took in the Spanish Steps, the Trevi fountain ( absolutely out of this world – I threw 3 coins in – I’ll come back to Rome, fall in love in Rome, and the third coin is so you have great sex with the person you fall in love with. Apparently.), the Pantheon and other spots of interest.

The front of St. Peter’s cathedral, the epic frontispiece of The Vatican, centre of the Roman Catholic world and the Pope’s playroom, is totally covered in scaffold. They’re cleaning it for the year 2000 Roman Catholic Jubilee AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

1500hrs –Same place.

Last night on the tour, there was wine (‘mother’ bottles – 5 litres!) and gelati (‘as big as your head’). A fantastic combination. Our tour ticket was good for 5 scoops of gelati, from a shop that had won Italy’s ‘Golden Spoon’ ( a sort of ice-cream Oscar) three years in a row. I had, in this order: Nutella, Giacuia, Coconut, Chocolate and Yoghurt. It was heavenly. Brilliant.

Afterwards, I had to shake the owner’s hand!

Also on the tour ( I got a bit rushed above) we saw the Pantheon and a couple of famous Piazzas – dei Fiori and others. It was really fun, and well worth the £.20,000!

Um, hi.

At this point in time, I do not know what to write. Peering back over the mist-coiled archives of the last year or so, you may find this difficult to believe. I'm always spouting rubbish, serving coffee, proposing impractical measures for the future of mankind or just sticking my nose in where it isn't wanted.

So right now I feel like I'm standing centre stage in front of a red curtain backdrop, in a spotlight with a too tight-collar and tie with a heavy grey jacket that I'm beginning to regret because of the heat of the footlights...

Um, hi there. Glad you could all make it. Anyone have difficulty with the traffic on the way here? No? Well, uh, get those crazy traffic-organising guys. Really know their stuff, huh. Um.

You know my friend Wally told me that er, the internet was a pretty tough audience, I guess he was right...er...not that I mean you're tough, er, you know? You guys are great, obviously, um, yeah, great.

*pulls out cue cards*

Well times like this remind me of the time I was in a bar with my friend Wally. really great guy, you know? Good friend, anyway. He was telling me about these two guys he knows down the pool hall he drinks with sometimes...not all the time, o'course, 'cause he drinks with me some nights, but I'm not getting a whole bundle of gigs at the moment, so I can't afford to hit the bars like we used to when we both worked in Accounts, it's not that I regret the move, but you know, things are a little tighter financially and I have to give up a few luxuries...sorry, yeah, anyway, these two guys Wally knows.

No, no no, um. Hahahaha. No. Anyway.

There are these two women on their way home after a big night out, yeah? Only they couldn't get a taxi and they've been walking for ages and they really need to take a leak. They can't just squat down in the street, but they pass a graveyard and nip inside. Neither of them have anything to wipe with but one of them uses here underwear and throws it away, and the other one, seeing the big leaves, decides to use a bit of a funeral wreath, okay?

Anyway, these two guys, um, who don't know Wally at all really, but I thought that might be a good angle for a joke, but it doesn't really work sorry I should have run through this bit before the show ahahahaha. These two guys, anyway, are sitting in a bar looking really, really hacked off, like really pissed off.

One of them says, "I think something's going on. My wife came home last night without her underwear."
And the other one says, "You think you've got problems. My wife came home last night with a card wedged in her ass saying 'From all the boys at the fire station, we'll never forget you'."

How about that, huh? Huh? How about it.
Jeez.
Uh.

Anyone from Pittsburgh in the audience tonight?

29th July 1050hrs Thursday. Internet cafe, Via Vicenza, Rome.

After some serious platform hogging and nifty footwork getting on, we got a whole compartment on the train. The four of us pulled the seats out to form weird bed-like things (only not) and got at least 3-4 hours sleep.

We arrived in Rome at 'Roma Tibertina' at about 0730ish, missed the 0740 to Roma Termini and caught the 0803 instead. We’re staying at the Pension Alessandra – a little pricey at £.30 000 a night, but it’s only for one night, and we'll be on our way tomorrow evening once more.

By the time we arrived here I stank. Cutting no corners, pulling no punches, I stank. I’ve just had my first shower in a few days, and despite being dog-tired (couple of cups of coffee at the hostel helped – I knew it would be worth carrying the tea and coffee from St. Andeol around!) I feel great. we’re going to go and see the Colosseum and the Trevi fountain today (hurrah!) and maybe a tour later!

Good morning, world.
What?
It's morning here.

Sorry if you were wondering where I was - the answer is that I was in bed, mostly. A summer cold. As the office anarchist I felt it my duty to try and make it into work to infect as many colleagues as possible, but the little bug-like virus won through in the end and I've been resting for the majority of the last 48 hours.

As many of you who read Krissa's site as well as mine will know, the final piece of documentation that we needed for my visa finally arrived. All that remains now is for the US Embassy in London to arrange an interview for me with a Consular Officer, for one of their doctors to poke and prod me a bit to make sure nothing drops off...and then, Inshallah, I will recieve a visa to enter the United States of America.

Hmm. Best not say 'Inshallah' in the interview.

The big question now, of course is 'How long?'
The answer is vague at best. I could recieve a date for my interview within two weeks. But when that interview will actually be, I don't know. The wait is generally no longer than three weeks. (3...4...5)
Then I have to give a month's notice for my job. (...6...7...8...)

Who knows?
We'll see.

I am in a particularly shiny happy mood this morning as an unexpected contact through work has assured me that I will have no problem getting a job with a couple of companies he works with in New York, and if I slip him my CV by the end of the day he'll take it with him when he goes to the States this weekend, and get it to the right people.

This week has been well timed, really, even down to the intensity of my cold.

If I hadn't taken Tuesday off, I wouldn't have been at home when the police certificate arrived, and I wouldn't have been able to hijack Khalil's computer and send off the final checklist to the US Embassy on the same day.

Had I not returned to work this morning, I would have missed this contact entirely, and as he only passes through these parts every few months, it would have been unlikely that I would have seen him again.

If I could, I would reach inside myself and find the last poor few hopeless virus cells under siege from my body, and pat them all on the head.

Pretty damned hard, of course, because I don't want the little bastards any more, but still.

28th July 99 1300hrs (Italian time) Wednesday. Somewhere in the Med.

It’s hot, breezy, and sedate. I’ve had a dip in the pool, done some sunbathing and just had lunch on deck. We’re travelling ‘Deck Class’, but we might as well be on a cruise.

We’ll be arriving in Brindisi...at some point, probably later today, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s a gorgeous day. We met up with a Canadian girl (tanned, short, with headscarf – there’s probably a mould churning them out somewhere) – Daena – last night in Patras before catching this ferry. She’s cool.
Gemma and I slept on deck, just below the mast.

I awoke to a pink sky, pulled myself up to my elbows and caught the sunrise full in the face. We were docked somewhere, and the sun broke out through the trees on the hills surrounding the harbour.

Yesterday we arrived in Athens, ate brekkie at the Inn and caught the 3-hour express to Patras at 12. From Patras to Athens, our ‘5-hour’ journey took 7½, and yesterday’s ‘3-hour’ took 4½. I was a bit annoyed, but there’s no pace, no urgency in Greece, just a surefooted certainty that nothing really matters. Relax! It’s a nice day.

Our boat turned out to be at ten o’clock, so there wasn’t any rush anyway. We
ate moussaka in the square, bought a paper and went to a supermarket to stock up for the journey. I slept quite well and have enjoyed just lolling around chatting so far today. It looks like we’ll be going to Rome after all, if we want to get to Paris, Rome is a good starting point. Whether or not we’ll spend a night there is yet to be decided, but we’ll definitely be spending at least a day there. Good stuff! I want to see the Colosseum and the Trevi Fountain, and Gemma wants to see the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel. I’m not crazy to go there, but it does seem pretty bad to go and not see the Vatican. We’ll see.

We’ve certainly covered a fair few miles since Monday evening! I haven’t taken my contact lenses out since Monday morning, and they’re definitely starting to feel a bit manky. I know that if I do take them out, I’ll go to sleep. Not necessarily a bad thing, but I don’t know when we’re due into Brindisi. Heigh ho.

2100hrs, Train station, Brindisi.
The boat pulled into Brindisi at about three, and as a group, Gemma, Daena, Eric and I yomped up to the train station, got some money, bought some food for the journey and Rome. I am definitely feeling tired now. If we get seats on the train, I am out for the count.

27th July 99, 0911hrs Tuesday. Student+Traveller’s Inn, Plaka, Athens.

Just passing through Athens, and due to several extremely funny looks from cafe and restaurant proprietors when I asked if their cheese pies are the type you have with sugar, we’re in our Athens haunt, just for breakfast.
Yesterday evening we bunked down in one of the Pullman seat rooms and I got the best night’s sleep since Athens last time. Yesterday morning we got up early and had breakfast in the hostel before heading out to Knossos.
It was really cool to be round Dave again, reminiscing, cowering with fear as we uncovered each other’s cringe-worthy stuff from the past...cool.

I remember Knossos as being a lot more enjoyable when I came with my family at the age of nine. It was impressive and haunting, but it was a faint echo under the hundreds upon hundreds of tourists milling round in hordes.
The Royal Quarters and the great staircase were closed for restoration, which might have had quite a lot to do with it, but after about an hour, we felt like we’d done all we could legally do. The baking sun was telling on us. A search through all the gift shops for another key ring like my parents’ old one that I lost was fruitless (to add to the fruitless searches in Hania and Iraklion), so I came to the conclusion that they’d stopped making them. Damn.

We’re going to do a spot of shopping in a mo, before going to catch the train to Patras.

Tomorrow morning, all being well, we’ll be in Italy again.
Yesterday afternoon we walked out along the harbour wall in Heraklion, ate lunch and generally wandered about. We went with Dave to meet his parents after they’d dropped Jenny and Ari off at the airport and said goodbye. He’ll be back in the UK by this evening. That seems very weird.

After arriving in Heraklion, we managed to get into the archaeological museum, where most of the finds from Knossos are, including the genuine frieze remains, for free. Dave and Gemma had their student ID, me with an Italian police report stating that I’d had my student ID stolen...same thing at Knossos!

1250hrs - Train to Patras.

Long walk from Omonia to the train station, and after a pedantic seat-swapping fiasco, we’re on our way back to Italy.
Coming back this way gives me the opportunity to appreciate the views in a way I couldn’t when I was talking to Mikas on the way to Athens. Sea views of massed chemical tankers, moving onto sea framed by hilly islands covered with low, olive-green scrub. Cliff-top rails, and a spectacular drop, secluded coves and fishing villages in white.