Siena

It was dusk by the time we arrived in Siena and guess what? It wasn't raining! My friend Elizabeth had recommended we take a bus from the train station located at a bottom of a very large hill to our destination at the top of the hill within the city walls. It was a beautiful night and we were tired of sitting, so we thought we'd walk. That was easier said than done, as there was a sizable and busy roadway between the train station and the old city. After wandering a bit trying to find a way across what appeared to be a highway of sorts, meandering through a pretty modern mall and a parking ramp, we decided to take the bus. After struggling to figure out where exactly the bus station was, and then which exact bus would get us to our destination, we took an educated guess, and by that I mean we just jumped on a packed bus and crossed our fingers.

Once we made it inside the walls, we knew we were on the right track and we didn't want to risk being taken outside of the city walls by the bus, so we hopped off and made our way to our hotel on foot. By the time we made it into the walled area it was dark and we walked the dimly lit medieval streets, hiking up and down steep cobble stone lanes. Siena is a beautiful city and we were excited to get to our room, get settled and check out the town.

After checking in, we were pleasantly suprised to find out that we had been upgraded! We stayed on a small street, via Giglio, not far from the Campo, or main square of the town.

Stopover in Pisa

As you can imagine, we were pretty excited to get out of Cinque Terre and into a city with a little more, well..."city." We took an early train out of the CT and were on our way in no time.

Pisa is not far from the Cinque Terre, and more or less on the way to Siena, so we decided to do a stop there to check out the Leaning Tower and get a brief glimpse of the rest of the city. After storing our luggage and picking up a map, we exited the train station. We had grown quite accustomed to the rain in Cinque Terre, so we weren't going to let the fact that it was pretty much pouring rain get in the way of our fun.

Speaking of getting in the way-- have any of you ever traveled through major Italian cities on rainy days? Well, this was our first time, and as we exited the station sharing our crummy umbrella, we had to run the gauntlet of men selling umbrellas to ill-prepared tourists.

"Umbrella, Umbrella?" Uh, no thanks. "Umbrella, Umbrella?" Uh, no we're fine, thanks. "Umbrella, Umbrella? Look, we said no to the last two guys, so no, no thanks. "Umbrella, Umbrella?" SERIOUSLY? No! "Umbrella, Umbrella" Is this some kind of joke? "Umbrella, Umbrella?" AHHHH!H!H!H!H.

You get the idea. Eventually, we gave in after the 103rd person asked us. I guess that's how the system works. As we walked the city crowded with umbrella-outfitted tourists and locals, we took in the sights.

Merry Christmas!

The 'Singing Christmas Tree' in Zurich, Switzerland

Santa Claus is Coming To Town from Via Picnic on Vimeo.

The Cinque Terre

It was our longest train ride to date. Over 12 hours from Fussen, Germany to Vernazza, Italy. To put it mildly, the views were nice.

Fussen Pretzel Picnic

It was a warm autumn day in Fussen - perfect picnic weather.

We got pretzels!

Neuschwanstein and Fussen

Ever seen pictures of Neuschwanstein and think “Holy crap, I want to go there?”

Yeah, me too.

Munich

In Munich, and much of Bavaria in general, beer isn't classified as an alcoholic beverage; by law, it's considered food. People drink it on their lunch breaks from work. They don't serve it by the pint - they serve it by the liter. When in Munich...

Best Laid Plans

It's here! It's here! God bless that woman. Taxis are yellow in the Czech Republic, too.

(Side note: I can finally spell "Czech" correctly on the first try. Chezk, Ceck, Czeck.)

Oh *@#! What's that girl doing? She's getting in OUR taxi? Dammit, nothing's easy, ever.

Oh, wait. She's not getting in. "Taxi, no?" says the driver, confused.

"No," the girl replies, then turns to me. "Did you call for a taxi?"

Oh, God bless her, too. And the woman at the taxi service last night, did I mention her?

"Hi, do you speak English?"

"Yes?" She responded as if she were asking question.

"Hi, I'd like to schedule a taxi for tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning, yes?"

"Yes. At seven forty-five."

"Seven forty-five, yes?"

"Yes. To the central station."

"Yes? Train station. What time?"

"Seven forty-five."

"Seven..."

"Forty-five," I respond, completely doubting, at this point, that this woman understands a word I'm saying.

"Central train station, seven forty-five. Okay, bye bye."

It was at this moment that I realized I had neglected to give her the crucial detail of where to pick us up. "No, TO the train station. TO."

"Yes? To the train station? How many persons?"

Not immediately understanding her through the heavy Czech accent, I assumed she asked where to pick us up. "Uh, Krumlov House?"

"Yes? Krumlov. How many persons?"

Still not understanding, I replied, "Seven forty-five."

"Five persons, yes?"

"Oh no, two."

"Okay. Three persons at 7:45. Okay, yes?"

"No, two people. At the Krumlov House. Do you know where that is?"

"Krumlov House, yes? 7:45, three persons, yes?"

Close enough, I thought. "Yes."

"Okay. Thank you. Bye bye."

"Thank you. Bye." I hung up, not sure at all if I had requested what I wanted to request.

Even the best laid plans go awry. That is one of the primary lessons we've learned on this adventure. Taxis sometimes go to the wrong hostel. Transit systems occasionally have detours. And language barriers, at times, seem insurmountable. You keep plugging along with faith that your Plan B works, and if not, you'll be able to devise a Plan C. Sometimes - many times, probably most of the time, but we usually take it for granted - things work out perfectly, like the taxi at the front of our hostel in Cesky Krumlov, saving us a forty minute walk, uphill, with our luggage.

Munich, here we come.