It's Not About the Goals and the Celebrations . . .

When the U.S. Women’s soccer team scored 13 goals against Thailand in their opening game at the World Cup, I celebrated along with them. Goal number 13 was no less exciting than the first. I was happy for the players who were able to score their first goal in a World Cup. I was happy for the veterans seeking to show the world that they can still play and that their age is irrelevant to their abilities, and I was happy for those on the bench being included in Megan Rapinoe’s goal celebration. It would frustrate me if I was Mallory Pugh and I just scored the 12th goal of the game, and the coach glared at me from the sidelines and told me I’m not allowed to celebrate. "Act like you've been there before." That is difficult when half of the team literally hasn't been there before. Mallory Pugh is the youngest member on the team, and this is her first World Cup goal. Who has the right to tell her that she can’t celebrate that accomplishment, or has to subdue her natural emotions simply because she scored later in the game? Pundits apparently. The outrage was swift. Then the backlash against the outrage. There’s a lot of outrage out there, and a sort of false pride that goes along with being the first to act outraged by something that other people maybe hadn’t thought to be outraged by yet. But more often than not, this outrage is misplaced and misses the bigger picture. Nowhere was this more evident than the U.S. team’s lopsided victory over Thailand. While we could argue all day about running up the score and whether or not the Americans should have celebrated after goal number 8 (or should it have been 6?), all of that is kind of missing the potential powder keg of positive change that could finally come to women’s soccer that this game highlighted. 

I don’t think anyone expected Thailand to get a win over the U.S. and that includes the Thai National Team themselves. They were simply proud to be there for the second time. Of course they were hoping to see a lower point deficit, but it's worth noting that veterans such as Alex Morgan and Carli Lloyd sought out their opponents at the end of the game and gave them words of encouragement. This ultimately ended up in an amusing twitter exchange between Lloyd and the Thai goalie who seemed almost star struck that she had been approached by one of the greatest players to play the game. Point being the Thais were not offended by the 13-0 deficit, or the celebrations. Upset and disappointed? Yes. Offended? No.

You see, the Thai women have now been in two consecutive World Cup tournaments, and their male counterparts have never even qualified. And yet, the men’s team seems to benefit from more money and support. Sound familiar? When Alex Morgan was confronted by a reporter regarding the high number of goals, she responded that it would have been a greater insult to be playing "keep away" from Thailand during the second half and that FIFA and other world organizations weren’t doing enough to elevate women’s football clubs to a more level playing field. Many of these clubs are focused more on money than finding real talent or encouraging young women to get involved in sports, and the results are apparent. FIFA and corruption kind of go together like Donald Trump and twitter, so most of this is unsurprising. As shocking as it may seem, fixed matches still exist, and the players (often unaware of playing in fixed matches) are the ones who are the losers in the end (in more ways than one).

Radical change will not occur from a 6-0 final score. Thailand could, in theory, go home at the end of the tournament saying they "held their own" against the best ranked team in the tournament. A 13-0 score? Not so much. Will this motivate the Thais to put more energy into their women's program to avoid this kind of embarrassment in the future? I want to say yes, but realistically . . . no. The Thai women don't have a lot of leverage to demand greater support in their home country, but their opponents might be able to get something started.

The American female players have been fighting for equal pay for years now. The lawsuit was most recently elevated when U.S. soccer attempted to make the absurd argument that the men's and women's team could not be viewed as counterparts and therefore did not need to pay the women the same amounts because the pay structures were different. Uh, yeah, that's kind of the point. The women are salaried and the men are paid on a per-game basis. But this is a relatively insignificant difference because the disparities are still out of control. Both the men and women are required to play 20 international "friendly" games per year. If the men lose half of them, they still get paid over $180,000 for their "efforts." If the women won ALL of the games (including all of their bonuses for winning), they would be set to make $99,000 total. Even if the men lost EVERY SINGLE GAME, they would still make more than the women. The men's team is basically the Cleveland Browns of U.S. soccer. Everyone knows they're a joke, but everyone also seems to be ok with paying them a lot of money for their embarrassing performances.

For years it was argued that the men generated more revenue and thus deserved higher pay. Sure. Let's look into that. The women's World Cup final versus Japan in 2015 is the highest watched soccer game in U.S. history -- men or women. Thanks to that victory, revenues for the women have exceeded the men every year since 2015, no thanks to U.S. soccer's lackluster efforts to get the new jerseys out prior to the current World Cup. Nicole and I finally received ours after our return from France, having ordered them weeks earlier. The men failed to qualify for the World Cup last year after losing to Trinidad & Tobago. The women have won three world cups, yet the men play on better fields, get better treatment, fly chartered airplanes, and enjoy greater bonuses and per diem pay. Alex Morgan, the star celebrity of the American women, makes most of her money from sponsorships, not from U.S. soccer's laughable compensation structure.

If the U.S. women are able to pull off another World Cup victory (and there's no guarantee of this despite that impressive 13-0 score against Thailand), they may just have that extra bit of ammunition for their lawsuit. Most athletes wouldn't want a lawsuit distraction while playing in the biggest games of their lives, but that's precisely what the women have done. They've basically said, "No one will listen to us for the last four years, so now that we're back in the headlines, don't you find it reasonable to get equal pay for equal play?" They are fighting a two front war, on and off the pitch. Never has the threshold for victory been so high. 13-0? It's a start.

The last time I went to an LA Galaxy game, the score ended in a 0-0 tie. Needless to say, it was an incredibly boring game. The crowd (mostly filled with Galaxy fans) uncharacteristically booed them at the end of the game. With 30 minutes left to play, both teams played as if they were complacent with a scoreless game. We just watched both teams pass it around to each other with no attempt to score. It was a complete joke. We have not been back to an MLS game since that day. We now only attend games for the Women's National Team. They are always entertaining because they play every game like they're down. They have an intensity and dynamic style of play that is rarely seen in soccer. They make it . . . watchable. And in the stands are a lot of youths - boys and girls sporting the jerseys of players like Alex Morgan and Carli Lloyd. It would have been unheard of in the past for a boy to be wearing  jersey with a girl's name on it. You have to look at that and think, maybe, just maybe this time there's a chance. It won't be easy, but if there's any group of women who could pull off such drastic change that has alluded so many before them, it's this team right now. So when Megan Rapinoe darts to the sideline to celebrate with the rest of the bench, you should probably be celebrating with them.

Off to the World Cup!

We began our journey with a healthy breakfast of pain au chocolats and juice, and then made our way through the entirety of Luxembourg, which took many an hour tops. We made a stop in Luxembourg city for a little exploration. I had been here when I was much younger - 13 to be exact. I remember buying a Swiss army knife at a market. While this seems silly, it actually makes sense now because everything in Switzerland is ridiculously overpriced. 13 year-old Brian was unknowingly a very wise consumer. We walked into the old part of the city and looked over the city walls. There were a few pianos placed around the city and in squares. I tickled the ivories for a spell with the few songs I could recall such as Star Wars and the theme to Apollo 13. . . the classics if you will. Our parking permit was only for an hour, so we weren't in the city too long.

We also wanted to make sure we got to Reims in France with enough time to chill before the upcoming match between Thailand and the United States. It was another two hours on the road to reach Reims. We weren't staying in the city, but rather in the town of Hermonville, about 15 minutes to the northwest. It's set in the heart of Champagne country, where they make . . . champagne. After watching the rain fall outside our windows, we got decked out in our various U.S. attire to support the American women. I was wearing a t-shirt with a profile of one of the player's, a defender named Becky Sauerbrunn, the unsung hero of the defense, who has never scored a goal. Nicole had an old jersey for Carli Lloyd, one of the veterans of the team, but layered it with a t-shirt for Tobin Heath because we thought it might be cold. Greg had purchased the new official jersey. Representing in style, we drove into town, parked, and had crepes for dinner. From there we walked across the bridge into the stadium.

We made sure to purchase some merchandise and I bought a sandwich since the crepe had not adequately filled me up. It wasn't long before the game was underway. The United States was well represented in the stands, but not just by Americans. There were many French in the stands cheering on the U.S. women, which I admit surprised me a bit. If any other team wins this tournament, it is likely to be the French. They benefit from playing in front of their own country as well as being well stacked with talent. Earlier this year, they beat the U.S. 3-1. While there were fans for Thailand, they were few in number. At first the U.S. looked a little sloppy, missing some passes, and it seemed like they were nervous for their first performance of this World Cup. Within about 15 minutes, however, they started finding their groove. First Alex Morgan, then Rose Lavelle scored the first two of the match. Having had a large Fanta before the game, I had to pee and wanted to beat the rush at halftime, so I decided to duck out with about 15 minutes before the half. I didn't think I would miss anything, but as it turns out Lindsey Horan scored while I was away. As we all settled in for the half, the score was 3-0, a fairly normal and expected score for the U.S. playing Thailand. What happened after the half however was otherworldly, and everyone around me began to notice. Every time there was a corner kick and the U.S. women began pushing toward the Thai goal, everyone brought up their cameras because there was almost a 75% chance that it would result in a goal. The game ended with a staggering 13-0 with Alex Morgan scoring five alone. It was a spectacularly entertaining game, one that of course ended up in controversy, because nothing's allowed to be fun anymore. I will get to this in a later post.

In any event, it was an amazing thing to watch and we walked back to the car. On the way, a French man asked who won. I responded in French and gave the score. I don't think he believed me, but he congratulated us and said it was great. The following morning, our hosts at our B&B-style mansion joked that it would not be the same result when they played France. We, of course, agreed. I doubt the rest of the tournament will see anything quite like that record-breaking performance.

As we left Reims, we reflected on the previous evening like it was some kind of dream. We had actually watched a game at the world cup, and not only that, a historic one. We drove a bit around Hermonville and the surrounding villages where we saw vineyards and poppy fields. After this,
we drove steadily north until we reached the town of Leuven in Belgium, just outside of Brussels. It is a college town, but a historic one with very pretty dormitories along the river and an old town square that was ripe for photographs. As we exploring the town, we got caught in a massive downpour. It lasted for about 15-20 minutes, and then we were able to continue our stroll about town. We ate at an outdoor cafe where I had some Belgian fries and a chicken sandwich (and of course a beer). The town was not large, so we were able to see a lot of different parts of it without too much effort. We did not encounter many (if any) tourists. Nicole did a fantastic job of getting us to some relatively unknown locales that gave us a more authentic experience as a whole. While incredibly brief, it was a very memorable trip.

BeLux

After a stressful day of nonreving that resulted in about five changes to our original plan, and an unfortunately long sit at Heathrow, we somehow ended up in Brussels on British Airways to meet our old friend Mr. Poopers (sometimes known simply as "Greg"). He had been on a direct flight from O'Hare and had arrived early in the morning. He had the chance to make a day of it and explored Brussels in a big way. We arrived sometime around 7pm. We got a rental car and drove into the city. We had one stroke of luck for the day, it was some kind of national holiday, so parking was free on the streets. But for the exact same reasons, there was not a lot open for dinner. We had burgers and a much-earned beer. The three of us crashed without much effort.

The following day, we began our drive south out of Belgium, but first made a stop at the very cute town of Dinant. We parked on the opposite side of the river from the town's main church. It was a very scenic vista as the church is positioned below a sheer rock face. The nice part about this town of Dinant was the lack of tourists. While they existed, they were few. We didn't have to bob-and-weave like most other places in Europe. We walked across the bridge to look inside the church and also do a bit of beer shopping. Belgium is well-renowned for its beer making and we capitalized. While in the store, it began to rain outside. This allowed us to take more time in choosing our beers. We ended up getting four different bottles and a chocolate bar for Nicole because she was on her best behavior. By the time we finished our transaction, the rain had mostly subsided so we walked back across the bridge and back to our car.

From there we drove toward Luxembourg, but first made a stop at Bastogne, a town known for its role in the Battle of the Bulge during World War Two. We went to the largest museum there, but we had to wait a bit to get in due to numerous tour groups cutting us off. I don't care much for tour groups in case that wasn't already apparent. Ultimately we got in and were shown a movie with an unnecessary use of 3-d glasses. We ended up ducking out of the movie early since it was just a drawn-out intro to the entire war. It wasn't the best museum from that perspective. There was kind of an over-the-top use of technology without it being used effectively. Audioguides that played automatically when reaching a certain area was about the only feature that was worthwhile. Nicole expressed her disappointment in the lack of a ride. All the best museums have rides. Outside the museum was a memorial to the Americans who lost their lives in the besieged town and the battles in the surrounding area to push the Germans back.

From Bastogne it was a short drive to Luxembourg and from the border, a mere 20 minutes to the town of Clervaux. It is also closer to Germany than Belgium, which demonstrates just how small the country of Luxembourg is. It was a grey evening in the town, but we were able to explore the chateau and the small pedestrian area of the town before it started raining. We took refuge inside our hotel's restaurant where we had beers and pizza. We briefly retired back to our rooms, which by the way were larger than our apartment in LA, and then reorganized for another walk around town. We learned about more about the history of Clervaux and discovered that an American Sherman tank on display just outside the chateau overlooking the town is the actual tank that defended the town from a German attack. It would quickly drive out from behind a building, fire a round at the Panzers attempting to advance down the road, and retreat back behind the building. Shockingly this tactic proved to be fairly effective, and it suffered only a glancing blow during the battle. For whatever reason, the Army elected to pull it from action and it remains pretty much where it was left...a fascinating piece of history.

Beaucoup de Voyageurs

For many of my “reflections” posts, I always encourage people to travel, to experience other cultures, to try something new — even if it’s not so far away. People appear to have done this in a big way. While I certainly can’t take credit for people traveling en masse (I do after all only have three readers), I feel it necessary to add some qualifications to this travel boom. It has become clear to Nicole and I that there is such a thing as too much tourism — a breaking point if you will, not just for us, but for the destinations themselves.

 While we were away, I was reading an article about the construction of a new airport near Machu Picchu. As it stands now, Cuzco has been the gateway to the Sacred Valley, and the act of just making it to Machu Picchu has made the experience that much richer because it simply isn’t . . .simple. Whether one hikes the Inca Trail or takes the train, it has been part of the experience. And in spite of these efforts, it certainly hasn’t prevented people from showing up in large numbers. Nicole and I visited during the offseason, when the Inca Trail was closed, and the train from Cuzco was not running the entire distance. And yet, Machu Picchu was overrun by tourists. The new airport isn’t even that much closer. It is not like 777s are landing a couple miles from the site. Anyone who has seen the surrounding terrain knows this would be impossible. The concerns about low-flying aircraft disturbing the ruins may be a bit overstated as well. I think most articles about the new airport are missing the biggest point. A new airport, one with longer runways that can accomodate larger aircraft directly from the United States is pure greed. Without the airport, 15,000 people are visiting the ruins every day in high season, twice the maximum number recommended by UNESCO. Peru has taken virtually no steps to protect its tourism cash cow because it makes them a lot of money. While it is a beautiful location, I must admit that my last visit was very frustrating. There were simply TOO MANY PEOPLE.

 While Peru is condemning its most famous ruins to almost certain destruction, some cities in Europe are trying different tactics. Cities like Venice and Amsterdam have reached breaking points. Amsterdam has dismantled its famous sign that countless tourists have taken selfies in front of. They are trying to disperse the hordes to other areas of the city, or even other areas of the country. They are also trying to appeal to a “different” type of tourist. Many come to Amsterdam to drink, smoke pot, and have a “good time.” This has led to arrests and harassment in the red-light district. Clearly there is a problem.

    So if we go back to our most recent trip, I observed some things that I find a bit concerning. Santorini no longer has the capability to sustain the throngs of people that clog its narrow streets every day. At any given time during our stay, there were at least two cruise ships docked just offshore. In high season, that number can quickly rise to five. The Santorini airport has more than 23 flights a day from Athens alone plus countless others from cities all over Europe. If you have seen the airport, you would wonder how any of this is physically possible. Its terminal is smaller than Durango Regional Airport in Colorado, which has maybe 3-4 flights a day total. All of these people arriving by ship, aircraft, and ferry soon crowd the two main towns of the island. If one person stops to take a picture, look at a menu, or simply look around confused, the 200 people behind them must also stop. It is not an enjoyable situation. And yet, what is my point? Avoid Santorini? I can’t in good faith tell people not to go to the most famous Greek isle. If a person were to book a trip to the Greek Islands and not go to Santorini, all of their peers would question their judgment because all of their peers are jerks who are perpetuating the myth that Santorini is amazing. While I agree Santorini has the potential to be amazing, in its current state, it is a chlostrophobic’s nightmare and a selfie-taker’s photo op at best. And that’s really the problem. People find ways to crop the crowds out and take that perfect selfie with the blue domes and the sun-kissed white buildings perched on the cliffside. They share it on facebook or Instagram and all their friends can “like” it and be jealous. What they don’t show is the line behind them to take the same selfie, or the fact that their choice to wear a sundress and wide-brimmed hat wasn’t actually thoughtful because it’s 50 degrees and the wind is gusting at 30mph over the cliffs. BUT to take a selfie with a puffy jacket and jeans would spoil the myth and surely wouldn’t impress their friends.

 When Nicole and I got to Paros, it was like our vacation had begun (some five days after we left Los Angeles). Perhaps it is coincidence, but more likely it is that we were someplace real. We saw homes with laundry hanging across alleyways, kids hanging out by a school, old men sharing a smoke at a taverna. It sounds absurd, but you don’t actually see any of this in Santorini. All you see are other tourists. And my whole point in encouraging travel in the past was for people to experience something new. How can this happen in a place where so many other people are just the same? When we picked up the rental car in Santorini, the agent looked at my license and said, “Lots of people from California this week.” My face sunk a little. They were probably the people in the sundresses and wide-brimmed hats taking selfies. Californians are really good at perpetuating myths about good weather. It’s been the worst weather in Southern California in decades. It never rains in Southern California? I’ve shot more instrument approaches into LAX because of bad weather than any other airport this year. We are 15 degrees below our average temperature, and have seen fewer days of sun this year than any other time since I moved to Los Angeles. You wouldn’t know any of this because Sundress McGee, who interestingly enough was also a contestant on ABC’s The Bachelor, has led you to believe that SoCal is perpetually 75, sunny, and perfect beach weather ALL THE TIME.

 Santorini is of course an extreme example of overcrowding, but even places like Taormina, a town you’ve probably never heard of, is overrun by tourism. But Taormina is an interesting example because it was impossible to walk and all of a sudden it was deserted. It is packed between the hours of 11am-8pm, and then nothing. Clearly none of the tour groups stay in town and instead all arrive at the same time at 11am. In the morning, the guy working the gelato shop looked very bored. Three hours later, he looked like he was questioning all of his life’s decisions that led him to this point. So the solution, at least to Taormina, is perhaps some staggering of the tour groups. Crowding in larger cities like New York, London, or Paris is to be expected, but these cities can typically handle it. I really don’t like being in a crowd, but it makes sense when you’re in a city of millions. It’s a problem when you’re in a small town and 10,000 people are inexplicably showing up like it’s the staging area for D-Day.

 So what then is the solution? The only way toward improving the situation is for leaders to make some unpopular and difficult choices. UNESCO, as an organization has made a list of places that it deems worthy of protection, and has set forth some guidelines for local leaders to ensure their sustainability. UNESCO sites are numerous and range from things like national parks to points of historical importance to towns that just look cute like Québec City or Guanajuato, Mexico. The government of Peru clearly doesn’t care what UNESCO thinks and has elected to take the side of money over preservation of a historical monument. And to a point, you have to understand their line of thinking (as flawed as it may be). And yet, they could have taken steps to limit the number of visitors without sacrificing the popularity of their most treasured attraction. For the extreme opposite example, I direct you to Coyote Buttes North, but you may know it as “The Wave.” And if you don’t recognize that name, you’ve definitely seen photos of it in National Geographic or over some motivational poster or just hanging in your doctor’s office. The unique wavy rock formations have intrigued many and people must ask, “Where is that?” Unfortunately, it’s not easy to get to. Sure, it’s in the middle of the desert, but that’s not the hard part. Not just anyone gets the privilege to hike the three miles on an unmarked trail across a flash flood zone to “the wave.” You literally have to win the lottery. You see,in an effort to limit the human effects on the fragile environment, the National Park service has limited the number of daily hikers. You must apply online months ahead of time (and pay a fee for the trouble), only to be rejected in an impersonal email that tells you how unlucky you were.  Coyote Buttes North, the coolest thing you’ll never see, and the true meaning of wanderlust.  

 While “The Wave,” is certainly an extreme example, it could be a guideline for other overcrowded places. I visited the temples at Angkor Wat in Cambodia some eight years ago. At that point in time, there were crowds, but never did I feel that it was overcrowded. Judging by my facebook and instagram feed, that has changed. Cambodia requires a tourist visa that you must apply for ahead of time online. Would it be too much trouble to have an additional step in the process to apply for access to the temples? This way the number of visitors can be regulated, but people won’t get turned around at the gates either. Thailand had to shut down its most famous beach last year because people destroyed the coral, trashed it, and literally killed anything that made the beach pristine and beautiful in the first place. Palau in Micronesia has added an environmental protection tax to all flights arriving on the island to help save what’s left of places like Jellyfish lake. There are numerous ways to combat the issues of excess tourism, but it seems that nobody wants to act until it’s too late. Is it impossible to limit Santorini to one cruise ship a day? Maybe. And on the flip side, if those other cruise ships start going to other islands in place of Santorini, then those islands will be ruined as well. Should Santorini (and its overcrowded cousin Mykonos) be sacrificed to save a dozen others? It is a moral quandary that I don’t care to partake in.

 As a result of our experiences, Nicole and I are increasingly flocking toward the more obscure, hidden wonders of this planet. This is not just because we hate being around people and popular destinations, but we actually have had our most cherished memories in places like Bosnia or Sri Lanka. People often judge some of our choices. “You’ll get your car stolen in Albania!,” “Why would you ever go to Belfast? Dublin’s where it’s at!,” or “Aren’t the Vietnamese still mad at us?” are just a few things we have heard over the years. You could say we’re doing our part to achieve the Amsterdam goal of dispersing tourists to lesser known destinations. Next month, we will be going to cheer on the U.S. women’s soccer team at the World Cup in France, but it won’t be in Paris. It will be in Reims, a small town to the east that doesn’t even have its own airport. But Nicole and I have the fortune to be making choices like that. If someone hasn’t been to France before, they would have to go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and eat baguettes on the Champs-Elysées. We have the luxury to say no to all that, a luxury that I promise will never be taken for granted. And maybe it is because Nicole and I have had this crazy fortune to have been to so many places that only now do we realize issues like . . .crowds. Maybe a first-time visitor just accepts their fate and knows no different, and is still somehow able to actually enjoy the experience. Kudos to them for being able to pull that off. Unfortunately for us, the spoiled celebrity couple you know as Bricole, that time has passed and I think it will be some time before we end up in a super popular tourist destination again. Well, at least we’ll always have Paris.  

Geneva

We woke up this morning to grey skies and rain in the forecast — a perfect day to leave. We had a 45 minute drive ahead of us and the Sicilian drivers did not disappoint during their last chance to drive like maniacs. Despite their best efforts, we arrived intact at the rental car drop-off. That being said, the Catania Airport did its best to disappoint us on our way out. The bathrooms had no soap. I looked up the Italian word for soap on my phone and Nicole actually told two cleaners that it needed to be replenished, but they just went back to their cell phones. No urgency here — just a lot of people with dirty hands walking around the Catania Airport. 

 We got seats on Swiss Airlines to Geneva, Switzerland on a new Bombardier C-Series airplane, which is less than a couple years old. We were treated to a small sandwich and a Swiss chocolate during our flight north. It was very clear upon landing that the Swiss had greater emphasis on efficiency and organization. We were out of the airport within 15 minutes of landing. Transfers to the city center via train are free and we would soon appreciate this much more than we did initially. Geneva is one of the most expensive cities in the world. We searched on our phones for a restaurant for dinner. It was virtually impossible to find anything under $25. And I’m not talking fondue and filet mignon. Things like a croque monsieur or a club sandwich at a casual café were pushing $30. We did not understand. With a few options in mind, we set out on the streets.   

 Geneva is a fairly small city, so there isn’t a ton to do. I kind of wanted to check out the Red Cross Museum, but it was closing soon and not that easy to get to. We walked down to Lake Geneva instead, only to discover that they apparently turned off the #1 attraction in the city — a giant jet of water spraying into the sky. It was sprinkling a little bit and we didn’t know if that was a factor. We shortly saw the #2 attraction in the city, the horlage, or a big clock with flowers around it. We began searching the streets for a cheap place to eat and kept striking out. It was about 6:00pm and things were either just closing, just opening, or at some awkward phase in between. It began raining fairly hard, so desperation was sinking in. We found a burger place that had literally opened three days earlier. There weren’t many reviews, but the price was right. This was a cheap meal by Geneva standards, and that means it was $50 for a 2 burgers, fries, and a beer.  

 We attempted to wait out the rain and it subsided just after we finished our meal. We walked back toward the lake to discover a now functioning fountain. Huzzah! We explored some other parts of Geneva such as the old town around the cathedral which was very quaint looking. It reminded me a lot of Québec City. There are certainly not a lot of tourists here. We saw a couple tour groups by the big clock earlier, but that was really it. We eventually worked our way back down to the lake as the sun was setting. Nicole convinced me to go on a ferris wheel. I have a bit of an irrational fear of ferris wheels. Or is it rational? Either way, we soon found ourselves hurdling toward death in a circular motion. It did however offer pretty decent views of the surrounding city and we could see the big clock from above.

 After the ferris wheel, we walked back to the other side of the river where our hotel was located. Enroute back to our hotel, we passed through the red light district, which was . . .interesting. Prostitution is legal in Switzerland, so everything was kind of out in the open. We made it back to the hotel safe and sound and packed for our journey back to the United States.

Siracusa

After surviving the various sketchy towns around Agrigento, as well as a fairly underwhelming breakfast, we set out on the open road once again. Cultural sidenote: While Italy appears to share an affinity for breakfast pastries with its northern neighbor, France, the quality is . . .not so great. There is a high degree of deception involved. Things that look like plain croissants are filled with mystery cream or cheese. That appetizing looking pain-au-chocolat lookalike is filled with eggplant (I’m not making that one up). The juices are never labeled and despite being similar colors from day to day, the flavors are somehow different. I’ve had juices that tasted like fruit punch, mango, peach, pear, and pineapple — all the same general color. None of the hotels label them. Why? Is it just to laugh at people when they make faces of surprise after their first sip? I don’t understand. Nicole is very sick of mystery pastries, and it seems to be a very Italian thing. Bonus Italian cultural tip: if you want to blend in as a driver on Italian roads, just act like each time is your first time driving a car ...ever.  

  Anyway, it was a two and a half hour drive to Syracuse (or Siracusa), so we got plenty of exposure to bad driving. At one point, an impatient driver actually drove between me and the oncoming traffic straight down the median. We made good time to Siracusa arriving around 1:00pm. We walked to the hotel we had booked, which was kind of hidden within a sketchy apartment complex. There was nobody to check us in. Nicole called a number and the guy told us to get lunch and that he’d be there at 2:00pm. We had all of our bags, and we weren’t entirely hungry either. In fact, we were quite cross with the situation. So much so that when the guy finally showed up, we told him we were canceling. I quickly booked a hotel down the street and we checked in a few minutes later. Once we finally were settled, we walked across a bridge into an area called Ortygia, which is the old historical part of the city.   

 It was nice to see the old buildings and things, but it was mixed with tour groups, school trips, and loud crowds. I think Nicole and I have simply reached that point of the trip where our patience for the cultural divide in regards to things like respect and customer service, has simply collapsed. We did a bit of tchotchke shopping and took a quick break for gelato and a beer before regrouping back at the hotel for a spell. I feel that perhaps we did not give Siracusa a fair shake at things, but the simple fact of the matter is that we have seen better. When we went out later in the evening for dinner, the crowds had dissipated a bit and the school groups and tour groups had disappeared. We were having an early dinner (at what I imagine was 8pm), and most places were deserted. We had pasta had a small restaurant and spent the rest of the evening walking around the various open squares and eating cannoli.  

 Tomorrow we leave Italy and I hate to say it, but we’re ready for it. 

Driving Around Sicily

We caught the 1150am ferry from Stromboli back to Milazzo, and made stops at pretty much all the other Aeolian Islands on the way. Fortunately, it was another smooth crossing, and we were shuttled back to our car and were soon on the open road. An hour and a half later, we arrived in Cefalu, a resort area on the coast, that is fairly dead this time of year. When we arrived, it was overcast and quite cold, but we did have a nice room with a very large balcony overlooking the ocean and the rocky shoreline. Our hotel was outside the city by a few minutes drive, so we didn’t have many food options. We drove around for a bit, getting lost in the process. Not all was lost, however, because we ended up finding a good overlook of the city. I can assure you it looks better from a distance. Up close, it was quite grungy and a bit dirty in appearance.

 We ultimately ended up stopping at a supermarket that most closely resembled an Aldi, as they didn’t have any name brand items. We got a bottle of wine for less than 2 euro, a big block of cheese, and some chocolates. The price was right. We also made a quick stop at a bakery/pizzeria type place that had sfincione, a local specialty that is essentially thick bread with sauce and other seasonings (basically a thick pizza). We came back to the hotel and ate on the balcony. The sun had now come out a little bit, which made it slightly warmer. We watched the sun set and had a relaxing evening.

 The following day, we hit the road for a long drive down the middle of the country to the southern coast to the town of Agrigento, where the Valley of the Temples is located. It is a massive complex of Greek temples, so one would think it would be easy to find the parking and ticketing area. You would be wrong. We eventually found the lot, which was really just a crudely constructed dirt plot of made-up spots. We hit up three of the main temples, starting with the Temple of Concordia, which was situated up on a hill with a good overview of the entire area. The next temple was in the best condition, and they decided to have an overturned statue of Icarus in front of it for a photo op I guess. There was one more temple down the road, but there wasn’t much to look at, just a few columns remained.

 After the temples, which provided good exercise for us, we searched for our next hotel, which was about 20 minutes outside the city and in the hills. It was difficult to find the place, then difficult to find the reception. We eventually caught the eye of an individual who was . . .staring at us. We had walked with our bags all over the property, unable to find the reception, but Eyes McGee didn’t offer any help, just his peepers. After an awkward amount of time, Eyes simply said, “Prego,” and pointed toward a building we had just been to, but had concluded was just a restaurant. We finally checked in and then went to the room, which seemed to be handicap room, but was also a loft with impossibly narrow and uneven stone steps leading to the bedroom, so we were a bit perplexed. In any event, we had a lot of space.

 We initially planned to pick up some sfincione like the previous night, as we picked up a cheap Sicilian wine an MD (the Aldi-esque supermarket), but this proved to be more challenging than expected. The nearest town was one called Realmonte, and it was quite small. There were a few pizza places and so forth, but the town had a very strange vibe...and everyone was looking at us. Clearly we were the outsiders, and everyone knew it. We continued on our way to the coast because I saw a sign for sea cliffs. It was an interesting and brief diversion from our task at hand — dinner.

 We regrouped and gave Realmonte another shot. We did eventually park the car (which is a kind of choose-your-own spot situation). There were one way streets that were not being adhered to and this was made clear by the way people were parking anywhere they saw fit. The one pizzeria we looked at had no physical door, and the deserted streets kind of creeped us out, though there was a man selling tons of garlic out the back of a truck. While this provided some comic relief, we were quick to hightail it out of the town. We ended up driving to another town about ten minutes away. This one was a bit busier and we put in an order for a couple margherita pizzas, which we had to wait 20 minutes for since they were made from scratch. We sat in the car to wait, where we watched a military truck stop and some soldiers go on patrol through the neighborhood. Nicole and I concluded that clearly we are in an area that is influenced by the mafia, and we probably bought pizza from a mob boss. 

 That being said, Nicole very much enjoyed it. We ate them as if they were sandwiches because the pizzas are never sliced in Italy and we didn’t have any utensils back at the hotel. It was a solid meal that only cost 6 euro for both pizzas. We spent the rest of the evening relaxing and eating on our outdoor patio.