At Munich I also toured Dachau, the other concentration camp on my mission. I took a guided tour and it wasn’t quite as moving as Sachausen, but I learned a whole heap more about sort of what when on in the camp itself. On the whole Munich was a pretty average place to visit. I would recommend it to people who actually drink unlike yours truly.

Keyboards in Germany are bizarre. The letter ‘Y’ and the letter ‘Z’ are actually switched, so it was nearly impossible for me to type anything. In Munich I met an Aussie lady travelling actually with her daughter, I tried to imagine how that would go for me and my mom, and who would try and drown whom first in the beer garden.

There were some other strange things in Germany though, like every cup has a line on it to show exactly where, say o.4 litres is so they don’t accidentally give you too much soda, as well, most bathrooms have an automatic seat cleaner, which, after you flush, wipes down the seat with what looks like a wet napkin. So strange, and yet, so German. My German was terrible as expected.

My thoughts are scattered again, so apologies for another entry that seems disconnected, my mind is missing today. I’m just so… But nevermind.

From Germany I went down to Italy, stopping in a small Austrian town in the Alps. It was pretty, but we only stopped there half an hour. I think it was called St. Johannes or something. Regardless, very picturesque… but of course… I have no pictures of it.

Yea, my second camera was stolen in Venice. Go me. Ugh.

Anyways, Venice was quite interesting, but beautifully terrifying. When they say you ‘get lost in Venice’ this is not some sort of romantic sentiment, this is cold hard fact. You will get lost in Venice. I went into the city thinking I’d spend two or three hours just chilling in the city — seven hours later when I found the train station again. Haha. But yea, camera with all of my pictures from the trip… gone. Figures.

Venice is stange and terrifying with an hundred small streets and alleys the walls are all high so it’s almost impossible to navigate properly, and with all the mask shops and other rather eerie looking places it really is a bit of a creepy city. Though it is interesting to go into a shop and see some Italian painting a mask right there on the front counter. Seriously, genuine Venetian or what? I wish I had someone to talk to in Venice though because I felt very alone the whole time. My Visa stopped working for awhile whilst I was there too, thus leading to a little unbridled terror for one of my days in Venice.

The ‘hostel’ in Venice was actually a camp site, right by the airport. Yes, all night it was awesome all you could hear was ‘VAROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!’ of the airplanes going overhead. And, my room mates who left on the first day left something rank in the room. Venice was, on the whole a place I was a bit uncomfortable in. I want to go back, but not alone, which is odd for me.

From Venice I hit Rome which was a bit on the surreal side I have to admit. Oh, look, there’s the Coliseum, and… the Forum… and the Pantheon… and a hundred amazing buildings and… well let’s face it, the city oozes awesome from it’s ancient pores. Seriously, if walking London is like walking a novel, walking Rome is like walking a history text book. Who knew the Pantheon was now a Christian church, because I certainly didn’t. Seems, I don’t know, ironic or something.

Vatican City was impressive to say the least, so extravagant, sort of like Versailles, where you sit there thinking no wonder it couldn’t last forever without some serious trouble. I even got to see the real version of my favourite painting, ‘The School of Athens’ by Raphael. And the pope paid for my lunch. Indirectly of course.

I go to the cafeteria and pick up a modest lunch, noting that they take Visa, as to be honest I never had more than 5 Euros cash all through Italy, anyways, I go to pay and wouldn’t you know it, the Visa machine isn’t working. I ask where the nearest ATM is, and she says there isn’t one in the Vatican. I’m starving and probably look it, because she mutters something in Italian and runs off, coming back with a manager looking guy, and they basically say ‘Go eat.’ so there we are free lunch.

Okay.

Sorry this entry is lacking my usual charisma, but my heart isn’t really in it right now. I really want to relate all these stories to you properly, but I’m so dejected about returning to Canada just opening up WordPress seemed unapealing to the point of nauseating.

Now everyone’s mad because I don’t want to come back, but it’s not the people I don’t want to come back to. It’s that I’ve fallen for this stupid country quirks and all. Everything from the robolady on the Chyuuube, to driving on the wrong side of the road, to the lifts. And I love all you nutty Canucks back home, but this is the place I feel like I should be, and leaving it is hard.

Back to packing.

I left Scotland last Sunday or Saturday (can’t even remember anymore) with a tragic good bye to Jamie and Derek, and to Steve in spirit I imagine, I returned to Milton Keynes to get my act together.

Starting laaaast… Monday I guess I was on a plane to Amsterdam, in the Netherlands for the precious few who have not made it their life’s goal to go to Amsterdam. And what on Earth can I really say about Amsterdam that hasn’t been said before? If you’re as straight laced as I am (secret high five for Amber here) you cannot help but feel a twinge nervous about the idea of Amsterdam, even if the city itself is very nice. It won’t surprise most to know that very few people who are actually from Amsterdam smoke, it’s mainly the idiot tourists.

Highlight of the visit was the Anne Frank house where I felt it was safe to let my guard  down a little (in all honesty who is going to drug me in the Anne Frank house?) it was interesting, but, like Versailles most of what I saw was the back of another tourist’s head. I went to the house after the New Europe free walking tour ( I love these tours — and not only because they are free but it helps) So, I did technically see the red light district. Technically. I spent the day hanging out with a British guy, who was quite awesome to be honest.

Amsterdam is Andrew’s city, drugs and bicycles. ( I love you too, Shiny.)

From Amsterdam I took a day trip to Brussels, and quickly discovered… there’s nothing to DO in Brussels. Seriously, give me one reason to go to Brussels besides to chocolate?  Ah? I win.

From Amsterdam I jetted off to Berlin which was amazingly awesome, now when I read history books and they talk about somewhere in Berlin I can actually draw up a memory and not just use the gigantic mental substitute of ‘somewhere in Europe’ Berlin was pretty in such an interesting way, plus they do memorials like no one’s business. The one to the burnt books was especially dramatic, and the holocaust memorial, it was like something you cannot describe. You have to go there and experience that.

Because I’m in a rush now with my clock at 10 minutes, I have to tell you about Sachausen concentration camp at a later date. Needless to say, it was the single most powerful experience of my life so far and literally a human turning point for me. My entire life has been altered by this one day. Scary, isn’t it?

Berlin to Munchen (or Munich if you spracken englisch) I was let down by Munich mostly because I wanted to see Prague or Vienna more but it didn’t happen like that. It was a very impressive city regardless, what with it’s Glockenspiel.

And, okay, this entry will have to be postponed as my clock is about to run out.To be continued (dun dun dunnnnn)