There and Back Again: The Final Post

After 3 months, 2 weeks, 5 days, and 2 hours, the final post of Scott on the Rocks is here. Chasers, please take a moment to wipe away the tears from your eyes before continuing to read. I don't want your emotions to run too high. It's been a great ride from August 25th until now, and I hope that you all have enjoyed every post. But, I am now officially back in Minnesota, writing to you from my bedroom once again, the same place where the first post was written. It's a weird feeling being back here again after learning so much over the last semester. But here I am, back where I was so long ago when I was nothing but a young, naïve 20 year old writing his first ever blog. Now I'm a young, naïve 20 year old who's writing perhaps the last blog post of his life. So without further ado, here is the final post of Scott on the Rocks.

When I wrote my last post, it was a Monday night and we had just finished taking our history final. At that point, I had thought that the hardest final day was over. I was wrong. After studying most of the day Tuesday (which was a national holiday in Italy), we had to face the hardest Wednesday of my life (On a scale of 1 to exaggeration, that was about a 7). Our first final on Wednesday was Theology and it started at 2:30, which meant that we had all day to wallow in fear. The test was a 90 minute final consisting of two essay questions. Needless to say, nothing makes a person's hand hurt more than writing non-stop for 90 minutes. And we weren't done.

The next final was Art History, the subject that I knew least about coming into this trip. Though this test was only an hour long, it started a mere 60 minutes after the Theology final ended. It consisted of four long questions and 12 slide identifications, in which the teacher would show a piece of artwork on a projector and we would have to identify it's name, artist, date, and current location (and we couldn't just say Italy...we needed to know the museum and city). After both of these tests, my mind was like moldy porridge. I basically had retained all the information that I needed to know right in the front of my brain and then exploded like Vesuvius onto the tests. Once again, what happened to this trip being easy?

The next two days were our last in Rome, which meant that we got to frantically run around and see all of our favorite sights one last time. Thursday mainly revolved around St. Peter's Basilica. Earlier in the trip, we had booked a reservation to visit the Vatican Necropolis (the underground "city of the dead") where St. Peter himself is buried. Our tour was at 3:00, but we decided to get there a little early and do another exciting Vatican event...climb to the top of the dome.

The dome of St. Peter's was designed by Michelangelo himself in 1560. It stands a whopping 404.8 feet, making it the tallest building in Rome. To get to the top, we had to wind up a ton of stairs (we were too cheap to pay the 2 extra euro to take the elevator) that brought us to the roof first. From there we could look out over the Vatican museum on the left and stand in the shadow of the dome that towered above us. The next flight of stairs took us inside the dome, but at it's base. This was cool because you could see down into the basilica with the floor 200 feet below. Finally, the last set of stairs wound us around the interior of the dome. It was a tiny, shoulder-width staircase that gradually slanted with the curvature of the dome until it almost was impossible to climb, at which point it finally moved straight upwards and over the crest of the dome. We had reached the top.

The view that awaited us when we came out of the dome was mind-blowing. Directly in front sat St. Peter's Square, upon which thousands of people walked around taking pictures of the basilica. Beyond that was the entire city of Rome, sprawling into the horizon beyond. To the north was the Vatican museum and Sistine Chapel, looking quite small from our great height. To the west was the rest of Vatican city, including the Swiss guard headquarters and the Vatican Gardens. Finally, to the south was the Vatican auditorium and the suburbs of Rome. There is no way that my feeble writing skills can describe what it was like up there, but hopefully the pictures that I took will help you out.

After the journey to the top, we continued on to our journey below the basilica. The necropolis was like a buried cemetery, with giant mausoleums and even old chapels buried in the dirt around us. It ended at the site of St. Peter's tomb, two stories directly below the modern day main altar. Bone fragments of his body sat in tiny glass cases, allowing us to view the remains of the Rock of Christianity. After that, we were brought one floor up into the room of the recently deceased popes where John Paul II is buried. The whole experience from top to bottom of St. Peter's made for perhaps the best day of the trip.

After a Friday of goodbyes, cleaning, and packing for home, we were ready to leave Rome. Bill, Ryan, and I left Saturday morning bright and early and headed off to one last destination before leaving Europe for good: Dublin, Ireland. Arriving in Dublin was like coming home to the Shire. I had this song in my head the whole time. The air was nippy but joyful as Christmas lights filled the streets and people milled around the city. Since we were only there for a day and a half, we were forced to take it all in quickly. On Sunday, we toured the heart of Dublin's social and economic infrastructure...the Guinness brewery. The entire building was shaped like a giant 7-story pint glass and served as a monument for Arthur Guinness' 250 year rule over Ireland (metaphorically speaking, of course). We tasted the roasted barley, watched how the "liquid gold" was formed, and finally poured our own perfect pints (but that doesn't necessarily mean we drank them). The final floor of the building was a 360 degree view over all of Dublin, allowing us to take in the city in one fell swoop, continuing our trend of visiting a city's highest point on our final day (for those who don't remember, we did this in Paris, Athens, Salzburg, Berchtesgaden, Florence, and Rome as well).

Monday morning was our last in Europe. We woke up early and hopped on a bus to the airport after saying goodbye to our last hostel. I unfortunately had ran out of deodorant, effectively becoming European on our final day. After a 7 hour plane ride, a 4 hour layover in Chicago, and another 1 hour plane ride, we were back in Minnesota. And now, I'm back in my bed.

I guess the best way to end this blog is to once again look at the goals that I set out to achieve in writing this.

Goal 1 was to "inform family and friends of my whereabouts while studying abroad this semester in Greece and Italy while also telling insightful stories and tidbits about what it's like to be a college kid in a foreign country with a bunch of people who don't wear deodorant." I feel as if I achieved this goal, but I guess that verdict is up to you.

Goal 2 was to "become a big enough internet sensation that Taylor Swift would finally notice me." While this blog became bigger than I could've ever expected (as of right now, it's had 1,131 hits), it unfortunately wasn't big enough to get the girl of my dreams to notice me. She instead started dating a werewolf from Twilight who some might say looks more manly than me, but again, that verdict is up to you. Hopefully this last post will finally push my blog over the edge and into the Hollywood mainstream.

So I guess this is finally it. When I thought about what it would be like coming home, I was scared, not sure whether home would be the same as it was when I left. Would I be able to find home again? Even after returning, who knows whether my life will ever be the same. But, I feel that everything that happened did so for the better. I guess only time will tell. So now, like the ending of most of my favorite movies, Scott in the Rocks will now sail into the sunset and the great beyond. Goodbye, Chasers. It's been real.

And one last time...here's Taylor Swift. And some pictures from the final days if that's more interesting to you.

Final Special Shout-Out of the Day: All the Chasers. Obviously, this blog for me was but a journal of my experiences that I thought maybe someone else would like to read. It turns out over a thousand of you wanted to. So thank you to everyone who cared enough about me, CSB/SJU, or the entire continent of Europe to read what I had to say about it. You stay classy, Chasers!

Final European Insult Tally:

Bill: 1 - Bill, I expected more out of you...I really did.

Scott: 4 - Winner of the European Insult Tally. I would like to thank the academy, the writer of Scott on the Rocks, and of course the Europeans (mainly the French), who without I wouldn't have anyone to insult. Should I get 5 points now?

Matt: 1 - Matt never was able to get past his first insult point and was thus never in contention for the winner's trophy. But, I guess this should've been expected. The only person that Matt ever seems to insult is me...and thankfully I'm not European.

Ryan: 3 - A surprise loser in the insult tally. Ryan's honest comments usually can spark controversy and anger, but he was apparently able to keep it in check around Europe. I would say this could count as personal growth, but the point of this was to be competitive and win the Insult Tally, but Ryan's competitive side never really showed.

For the last time...ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

The Last Three Weeks

Chasers, I realize that I have been a little absent over the last couple of days, but can you blame me? We only have (or, actually, had) 5 weeks in Rome, and that doesn’t leave me much time to write a blog whilst also trying to experience everything that the entire country of Italy has to offer. So, I’m gonna break it down like this. Here is a quick recapitulation of everything that we have done since the end of Part Three of the fall break posts. After the recap, I will tell some stories that you will hopefully enjoy. Got it? And here…we…go!

• Nov. 20^th: We traveled to Naples. Though the city was dirtier than an Imperial garbage compactor, we still managed to have a good time. During this weekend we also visited the sites of Herculaneum and Pompeii, both of which were buried during the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD. We all escape without being covered in volcanic ash.
• Nov. 26^th (Thanksgiving): We traveled to Florence along with our Art History teacher. We were treated to a Thanksgiving dinner put on by a restaurant that “researched” American Thanksgiving Day meals. We were served cornbread, pumpkin soup, cranberries, potatoes, and everyone’s favorite Thanskgiving Day bird…roast duck. Where is the turkey? I give their research a B+ at best. Later that night, we found a bar that was showing the Cowboys/Oakland game. Unfortunately, the bar turned the game off at halftime because it was karaoke night. We don’t stay.
• Nov. 27^th: Still in Florence. We spend four hours chasing around our art history teacher while trying to frantically take notes on every major artwork in Florence. We fail. Our director, Chuck, takes us out to a burger joint to get a true American meal. I enjoy my first bacon cheeseburger (not including Crispy McBacon’s from McDonald’s) in 2.5 months. My stomach reacts like the guys from Animal House when Otis Day and the Knights show up.
• Nov. 29^th: We go to the Catacombs of San Callisto, something that we meant to do on Halloween but couldn’t find. This is probably a good thing. 20 kilometers of underground tombs might’ve been kind of scary on Oct. 31^st. We meet some family with a daughter on the USA figure skating team and a son on the USA speed skating team. The son is apparently 11^th in the nation. I tell him congratulations but secretly know that he must be one of 15 guys that speed skate. At least he’s faster than 4 of them
• Dec. 1^st: The bar that we watch the Vikings games at is having karaoke night. We decide to go and flex our golden pipes. After listening to bad renditions of Don’t Stop Believing, Bohemian Rhapsody, and I Just Can’t Wait to be King, we (Brian Skluzacek and I) decide that we can show up the entire bar. By the time it’s our turn, the bar is so full that we can hardly make it up to the front. Brian and I grab the microphones and shock the bar with our crowd-pleasing choice of Sweet Caroline. The whole place reacted like a FIFA soccer celebration while singing along. Meanwhile, I run around the stage, handing the microphone to different groups of people so they can sing the BAH-BAH-BAH! part of the refrain. We leave the stage to a standing ovation. Or maybe there were just no seats left in the bar. We’ll go with the former.
• Dec. 3^rd: We have our last actual class before finals. It’s Language and Culture class and we finish by singing a song with a lot of easy Italian phrases in it, but we still don’t know what it meant. We find out later that it’s a love song about marijuana. Leave it to a song about pot to be the simplest song in the Italian language. After class, we have a taste testing of typical Italian Christmas treats. I pick out the table nearest the front with only two other people at it (all other tables had at least six). We are always the first to be offered more food and eat an equivalent amount to the 6-person tables. The evening consists of much flatulence and stomach pains.
• Dec. 4^th: We go on our last excursion outside of Rome to the city of Ostia Antica (the ancient port city of Rome). With the walking lecture over, we are officially done with learning and only have the finals to look forward to. Since we no longer need our notes for Language and Culture class, I turn them into a baseball-sized wad and we play our first game of baseball/football/soccer/dodgeball since leaving the States. I’ve forgotten how much I love sports (Who am I kidding, no I haven’t).

Whew. Are you tired? I sure was at about 3:00 yesterday, when all of this caught up to me and knocked me out, allowing me to have a wonderful nap. We are now in finals week and there is really not much time left. Yesterday (Dec. 7^th), was a date that will live in infamy. We had our first of three finals (Ancient History), which was best described by our teacher as “making Afghanistan look like a frat party.” And here I thought that study abroad was supposed to be easy.

Tomorrow (Dec. 8^th) is a national holiday, so there is no school. We follow that up with our last two finals on Wednesday, and then we’re done. That’s right. D-o-n-e Done. Doesn’t it seem like you just became Chasers? It’s seems that way to me, too. There is still a little left to be done before we leave, but time is now going to start flying by. On Thursday we are touring the Vatican underground Necropolis, where St. Peter himself is buried. Friday will be filled with revisiting our favorite sites one last time and most likely packing. And Saturday, we leave for Dublin, where Bill, Ryan, and I will stay for two nights before continuing back to the great state of Minnesota (Matt is taking a different route home, choosing to go through some city called New York on his way). So whereas today was sunny and 8 degrees Celsius, I am exactly one week removed from landing in a place with frozen ponds, dark evergreens, and temperatures of 8 degrees Fahrenheit. Can’t wait!

There have been many things about Minnesota (and the US in general) that I’ve missed during my time abroad. These include a currency that doesn’t look like Monopoly money, free water at restaurants, prices that don’t feel like highway robberies, videogames, sports, snow, more than 5 different outfit choices, efficient washers and any sort of dryer, a car, my family, my dog, and most importantly my bed. I can’t wait to wake up without my neck or back aching, put on warm clothes, and go downstairs and lay on some sort of comfortable furniture. I think I’ll even be happy to pay for gas instead of using free (but often smelly and cramped) public transportation.

I’m not really sure what the state of the blog will be after the trip, but I can’t really imagine that you guys are gonna care about my days at college. I realize that the only reason I was semi-interesting was because I was on a different continent. I’ll at least write one more blog before I leave for good, at which point I will give a State of the Blog address. Until then, wish me luck on finals! And start counting down the days.

Here's the pictures from the last three weeks. Enjoy.

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Matt Butorac. He has pleaded to be named on the blog for quite some time now, so here's hoping that he's finally satisfied. While this shout-out isn't entirely deserved, it's not not deserved.

European Insult Tally:

Bill: 1

Scott: 4

Matt: 1

Ryan: 3

I guess this poll got a little old after a while. We thought that we'd be the typical Americans and would accidentally insult many people (which we may have done without even knowing, but ah well). We got one more week to insult any people living in Europe, so we'll see what we can do.

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

Finally...When in Rome: Part Three of Three

After much ado, Scott on the Rocks has finally made it to the second major city in our study abroad semester! That’s right, two months and six countries after leaving the lovely state of Minnesota, we are finally in Rome. This post marks the end of the three-part blog, so strap on your boots and get ready for a whirlwind of stories.

When the Three Caballeros and I arrived back from our fall break, we were pretty tired. It had been two weeks since the last time we were in a classroom and it seemed like we were going to be starting a whole new semester. Though we weren’t looking forward to going to class again, I definitely was excited to check out Rome.

My excitement goes all the way back to when we were applying for study abroad programs. Last winter, I was split between three different trips: this one, the London trip, and the Australian trip. I was hesitant about doing Greco-Roman because it was in the fall, right when everything exciting tends to happen. I would be missing out on not only activities at St. John’s (namely football), but also many other mainstays of Minnesota autumns. There would be no leaves changing color, no football in the “tundra,” and of course no seeing the Twins in the playoffs or the Vikings (who later went out and got this Favre guy who is apparently pretty good). But, the main factor that made me choose this trip was the end goal of getting to see Rome.

Rome is and always has been a beautiful city. I can best describe this place as a giant outdoor art gallery. Everywhere you turn there is a new fountain, church, statue, monument, or ancient wonder. In our short time since arriving here, we’ve become accustomed to the extraordinary. Take conversations like this for example:

Matt: What’d you do today Scott?

Scott: Well, I took the metro over to the Colosseum, walked down the Roman Forum, stopped at the Pantheon, got some gelato, and headed back.

Matt: That’s a long walk. How was the gelato?

See what I mean? There are so many amazing things here that you can’t even comprehend it. If any of these famous artworks or buildings were anywhere else in the world, they would be the main tourist attraction. But here, you see a cool fountain and wave it off because it’s not the Trevi fountain or the Fountain di Quattro Fumi. It’s almost sinful.

Obviously, all of these sites are amazing. St. Peter’s Basilica is so large that it looks small. Confused? Let me explain. On a walking tour inside the Basilica, we were told to look up at the windows that were allowing light in on the South side of the church. The windows looked like nothing special. They were just high up and were 5 windowpanes wide by 7 windowpanes tall. We soon found out, though, that each individual pane was 6 feet tall and 4 feet wide. It was inconceivable. There was no way that window was that big. It looked completely normal. But the vast size of the Basilica tricks you into not realizing just how large it is. Like I said…it’s so large it looks small.

Besides seeing all the famous touristy sites, one of our main sources of entertainment here in Rome is trying to follow the Path of Illumination set out by Dan Brown in the book (and now movie) Angels and Demons. It just so happens that one of the churches (Santa Maria della Vittoria) is on the street that we live on, so I’ve taken my fair share of pictures of me doing my best Tom Hanks impression and running into the church. It’s one of those things that you just have to do in Rome.

I could tell you about the classes here, but I’m sure none of you Chasers really care. You’re reading for the stories, not the educational value. So all I’ll say is that the teachers are pretty good but also somewhat crazy. We have a history teacher (Jan) that has been on the History and Discovery Channel, and if you’ve ever seen any of the programs on those shows you know that the people they choose to interview are always the weird ones (Here's an impression of him by a former student...and that's him on the right in the beginning of the video). On top of that, we have a British theology teacher, an overly excited art teacher, and a language teacher that has an odd resemblance to Luigi. But other than those observations, classes here are just like classes anywhere else (except we hear about places like the Roman Forum while walking through it).

Since getting here, there have been many highlights. First off, a friend of mine flew out to visit for a week (he, Ben, is the one who received a shout-out in Part One). It was nice to finally see a different face than one of the 30 that I’ve seen every day. His presence definitely forced us to go out and do all the “touristy” things that we’re normally too stingy to pay for, such as go in the Colosseum and actually eat at a real Italian restaurant. But the most important thing that we did during his visit was to go see the Pope.

While sightseeing may have become routine during our semester abroad, seeing the Pope still holds its allure. As a Catholic boy who has gone to private Catholic schools for my entire life, this was a pinnacle moment. I mean, I value seeing the Pope higher than meeting the President: this is a guy I actually have faith in.

Basically, we were able to acquire free tickets to a “General Audience” with Pope Benedict XVI. The “audience” was held in the Vatican Auditorium, which is big enough to seat 12,000 people. We got there two hours early on Wednesday morning (8:30) to try and get good seats, but we still ended up about ¾ of the way back. Finally, the Pope appeared to raucous applause while cameras everywhere flashed brightly. He just sat in the front and waved for a while until everyone quieted down. Then, he gave a blessing in Italian that was later translated by 10 cardinals into 10 different languages. Finally, when all the translating was done, it was time for special shout-outs (I think he stole the idea from me). Each cardinal came up again and named different groups of people that were present from different countries. When the English cardinal came up, he notified the Pope of the “pilgrims from the UK and the United States” before listing off all the different groups that were present. Each time he would name a group, those people would stand and cheer while the Pope acknowledged them with a small wave or finger point. Since we didn’t get our tickets until the day before, we weren’t on the shout-out list. However, there was a group from St. Paul, Minnesota, and we decided that that counted for our shout-out too.

Though the entire audience was pretty memorable, the most unforgettable moment occurred when the English cardinal gave a shout-out to the “pilgrims from Fort Hood, Texas.” A large group of over 200 people stood and cheered loudly while waving mini American flags. As they cheered, the rest of the auditorium began clapping and cheering for them, clearly understanding the significance of the moment. The Pope even got out of his chair to acknowledge the group. It was the only time he did that during the entire service.

On top of seeing this beautiful city, we’ve also been to Subiaco since I last wrote. Subiaco is a mountainous retreat about 2 hours outside of Rome where St. Benedict founded the Benedictine order. He came up with his rules while living in a cave near the top of the mountain for 3 years; a cave that has since been turned into a church and monastery that looks like it is coming right out of the cliff side. The effect is pretty remarkable, and it’s easy to see why the Benedictine monks continue to use the area even today. The visit allowed us Bennies and Johnnies to observe our roots, because without St. Benedict, we wouldn’t have a school. It also allowed for more scenic views, as you’ll see in the picture slideshow.

In just a few short weeks, I’ve already fallen in love with Italy. I’ve thrown my coin into the Trevi Fountain (there’s many old superstitions that surround the fountain, and one is that if you throw a coin in over your left shoulder, you’ll return to Rome someday) already, but I’m going to try my best to enjoy my time here now. The end of our journey is already fast approaching. As I write, I am looking at a schedule and see that we only have 7 days of class left before finals. Oh how time flies.

You Chasers are now almost caught up on my time over here. This ends the three-part blog that started weeks ago, but since I started those three parts I’ve had many more exciting, funny, and memorable stories. But those will have to wait until next time. This final part of the three-part blog would have to be called Possibilities because of all that there is to do in this city. After surviving Problems and Patchwork, the Possibilities that lay ahead are endless.

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Pope Benedict XVI. It would be terrible of me to not give him the shout-out this post after he blessed some of my classmates and me. Though he didn't acknowledge us specifically, (we'll be going back, so he will) he still made for one of the most memorable moments of the trip.

European Insult Tally:

Bill: 1

Scott: 4

Matt: 1

Ryan: 3

Nothing new to report this post. We all realize that there's only so many days left, so hopefully we'll get some good ones in before we leave.

Here are the pictures from our first week in Rome and at Subiaco. Enjoy!

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

The Hills are Alive: Part Two of Three

When we left off at the end of Part One, the Three Caballeros and I were on our way to Venice; the city without cars, roads, or even land (but it does have gold to steal). It’s a city built without a solid base, carved into a marshy swamp that is actually sinking back to its muddy depths. No place could better represent our own little group. We ourselves were sinking into the murky bottoms of our own emotions, ready to probably throw each other into the labyrinthine canals that wove around our future destination. Our only hope for repair was an hour-long nap on a plane.

It’s amazing what a nap can do. A world can change with just 60 minutes of sleep and people can quickly forget their previous problems. While my anger wasn’t completely squashed by the 95 euro one-way ride, it did give me enough time to remember to stop fretting because, after all, we’re in Europe. There’s probably a lot of Chasers out there that wish they could be where I am. So, while I could go on about the airport catastrophe, I will no longer talk about that in my monologue.

Upon landing, we took a waterbus (large boat) to the island of Venice. The traffic system was amazingly complex, with giant wooden poles sticking out of the bay to make multiple channels in and out of the city. The boat ride lasted longer than the plane, but eventually we were dropped off at Per San Marco on the South side of the island. We clamored out of the boat, but were stopped short on the dock because the road ahead was nearly impassable. Running down the streets were thousands of people, moving quite swiftly. Apparently, we had chosen to come to Venice on the same day as the Venetian marathon. The fatigued runners served as yet another reminder of the long travel journey ahead of us.

We were in Venice for a total of two days. Overall, it’s a unique city, what with its romantic gondola rides (we didn’t take one), winding waterways, churches, and large bell towers everywhere. However, one can only take so many churches, squares, bridges, and boat rides before it all becomes the same. I guess what I’m saying is two days was probably the perfect amount of time. It allowed us to rest and gradually become more accepting of each other’s presence.

I think the moment that we all felt like friends again occurred as we were watched the live box score of the Vikings-Steelers game at a McDonald’s with Wi-Fi. As Brett Favre’s pass was intercepted and returned 84 yards for a Steelers touchdown (which on the Game cast was shown by a simple black and yellow line zooming down the field), we were all brought together by our shared disbelief and disappointment. Maybe that’s where “Minnesota Nice” comes from.

The next night we had to catch a train from Venice to Salzburg, Austria. The train station was thankfully right next to our hostel, so there would be no being late this time. We still showed up two hours early just to make sure, arriving at the terminal even before our train did. There would be no mistakes this time.

The night train was a bit different than we expected. First off, our cabin had beds, which was an immediate plus. The cabin was basically a 1-meter wide walkway with beds on both sides, two at head level and two on a seating level. It was plenty of room for four people. In our excitement we started thinking about playing cards, I-Spy, or any other countless activities that we had room for. But, we were soon informed that two more Europeans would be joining us in our cabin at the next stop. We folded two more beds out of the walls, which no longer made the cabin look spacious but instead like tightly packed army barracks. Like most college boys, we hoped that our two roommates would be cute European girls, but instead were gifted with a smelly 40-year old guy and a large, whiny woman who complained about everything, including how she could barely fit in the bed. So much for all our activities. I spy something fat and Romanian…

By the time 4:30 AM came around, we had all had a poor nights sleep, highlighted by the train continuously stopping, the whiny lady continuously hitting her head on the wall and yelping like this, and a dry breakfast consisting of three pieces of bread and some jam. Yummy, now I’m awake!

The platform in Salzburg was undergoing renovation, and therefore was open-air. Few things are as unpleasant as needing a place to sleep at 4:30 AM and being able to see your breath, so we decided to walk the 30 minutes to our next hostel and pray that they were open. Luckily, they were. We were greeted by a sweet old Austrian lady at the desk who only spoke German. Matt struggled though trying to explain our situation, but we were all getting prepared to fall asleep in the lobby until check-in time. We situated our bags for pillows but were stopped short by the old lady. Looking up to see if we had done something wrong, we saw her holding a room key and smiling. Not a bad first impression, Salzburg.

We all slept until 10:30 just to recharge from the night train before heading out to see what Salzburg had to offer. None of us really knew what there was to do in the Sound of Music city, but we were about to find out. We grabbed as many brochures as we could carry and headed out the door.

Let me now try and paint a picture of Salzburg for you. As we stepped outside, we were greeted by a perfectly clear sky and temperatures hovering around 12 degrees Celsius (55 degrees Fahrenheit). Fall was in the air with beautifully colored trees and the soft crunch of leaves beneath our shuffling feet. If there was ever a “taste of home” moment, this was it. Everything was reminiscent of Minnesota, except of course the large Alps covering the skyline that only served to beautify the scenery even more. Salzburg already impressed us more than any city we’d been to.

The main area of town was a welcome break from the bustling streets of Athens or the romantic alleys of Venice. The drivers weren’t constantly honking, the smell wasn’t unbearable, and the buildings actually all looked cool. In the center of the town, on top of a huge hill, was the medieval castle of Hohensalzburg, the oldest and best-kept castle in all of Europe. We took a tour (the best 7 euro I’ve spent so far) that allowed us some amazing views of the town below, along with the Alps that surrounded the city. I can tell you now this is the best picture album yet.

The next day we journeyed beyond Austria and into Germany. Our destination was the little town of Berchtesgaden, another gem of a town nestled in a valley between snow-capped peaks. Our purpose for this visit was to get a little bit of a history lesson about World War II and the importance of this area. Berchtesgaden, and the nearby town of Obersalzburg, is actually where Hitler’s house was. He spent a little over 1/3 of his wartime years here living on the side of a mountain that overlooked the town. We were given a tour of the famous area, including the remains of his house, the houses of his secretary and highest officers, the barracks for the SS troops, and the intricate bunker system dug deep within the mountain. The highlight of the mountain, however, is the Eagle’s Nest, a concrete house that sits at the top of the mountain.

The Eagle’s Nest was given to Hitler as a 50^th birthday present, but he only visited it 14 times, and never for more than a half hour. It is actually a teahouse, meant to show the grandeur of the Third Reich. After the war, it was left by the Allies and historians because of its significance and architectural greatness (Also, the Allies missed it while trying to do a bombing run over the mountain). The only way to access the Eagle’s Nest is on a winding road hidden beneath the trees of the mountainside that eventually dives into the cliffs and through a large tunnel that leads to the very center of the mountain. From there, a bronze and gold elevator large enough to fit 45 people takes the visitors up the remaining 111 meters to the top of the mountain. Unfortunately for us the road to the top was closed because of decreasing weather conditions, but we were still able to travel up most of the mountain and get a great view of the valley below. Though I can’t say I agree with any of Hitler’s morals, I can’t disagree with his thoughts on scenery. We finished off the day with some true German drinks and headed back to Salzburg for the night.

The final day was a day of rest and general enjoyment of Salzburg. We went to the grand opening of some new mall and mingled with other Salzborgians (not sure if that’s what they’re called) before heading back to the old town to just walk around a bit. Around noon, we toured the house where Wolfgang Mozart was born and saw some of his first instruments. This was pretty cool, especially for me because I used to play piano and considered myself a modern Mozart (I also played him in a school play, so this isn’t just my ego showing). Later, we walked to the main square at the base of Hohensalzburg Castle. There was a giant chessboard in the middle of the square, so naturally we decided to play. I challenged Ryan to a match and we played on while the sun set and the town around us lit up. It was quite the setting. Though I should have lost (Ryan moved his pieces so that we had a gentleman’s stalemate), the whole experience was pretty surreal. Many people stopped to watch us play, which felt cool but also added a lot of pressure. It was almost like having cheerleaders there as they clapped with approval or groaned in disappointment at times. I’m positive that a group of Asian tourists that stopped by for a while had mapped out an entire strategy for me, but I had no idea what it was.

We returned to our hostel to grab our bags and headed off to waste time until our night train arrived. We wouldn’t be leaving until 1:35 AM, so we played cards at a McDonald’s and hung out. It was at this point that we made the pact to never speak of the airline debacle again. Clearly, all tensions in the group were gone.

Surprisingly, we made it back to Rome without any troubling incidents. We went our separate ways and finally settled in with our new homes and roommates. From this point on, our trip is on the winding down phase. Everything is going to go fast. I now realize how much I have to savor the time I have left, because in an instant, I’ll be on my way back. But for now, I’m in Rome and going to live it up the best I can.

If Part One was titled Problems, then Part Two should be titles Patchwork. The Three Caballeros and I, along with the other 26 people on the trip, have now lived with each other for two months in the closest of quarters. Hopefully the patchwork can hold until the end of the trip, but there is much more to occur. As for what is coming up in Part Three, you can expect to hear about all the excitement of living in Rome. From a new face of a visiting friend to an audience with the Pope, there is much to look forward to in the next segment of Scott on the Rocks. Keep on reading, Chasers. There is only so much time left.

Here are the pictures from Venice and Salzburg...enjoy!

Special Shout-Out of the Day: The desk lady in our Salzburg hostel. Though I don't know her name, language, or anything else, she may be the nicest person we encountered on the trip. In fact, everyone in Salzburg was nice. But she gets the ultimate prize of the shout-out.

European Insult Tally:

Bill-1

Scott-4: I received a point for this trip because of my “I-Spy” comment that I made about the lady on our train. I’ll tell you what, though; you try to sleep by a woman who complains about everything from her back to the temperature all while leaving her light on half the night and see if you don’t insult her, too.

Matt-1

Ryan-3

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

Will I Am Not: Part One of Three

Over the course of the last week and a half, a lot has happened to our little group of college kids.  In fact, so much has happened that I must split this blog into multiple parts as you can see above.  Right about now I should be working on a 6-8 page paper for Senior Seminar, but I need to get my words flowing so I have turned to the Chasers first.  I hope the stories that follow sufficiently fill your thirst for some Scott on the Rocks.

When I last wrote, we were on the verge of leaving Greece once and for all (well, probably not for all…I’m sure I’ll be back some day).  We woke up early on Saturday morning in order to get out of our apartments by 8:30 and off to the airport.  At first, everything seemed as if it would go swimmingly.  I initially thought that getting on the bus to the airport would be our biggest problem, but the X95 bus sat at the stop like a Christmas present under a tree.  This was going to be easy.  We would be arriving at the airport a full two hours before our flight left, which would leave us plenty of time for any problems.  And problems we would have.

They began the moment we made it to the EasyJet counter.  First up was Matt.  The lady at the desk stared at his passport a little too long, making us nervous.  She looked again at the confirmation email and then back to the passport.

 “Is your name Matt or Matthew?” she asked.

“It’s Matthew,” responded Matt.  “But Matt is my nickname.”

“Alright.  Well it says Matt on your ticket, but I’ll let it go.”

Whew…one man through, three to go.

Next was Ryan.  Apparently his bag was too big for the scale, so the lady made him take it to a special area on the other side of the airport.  According to Ryan, the man working at this other place took his bag without even checking any tags and threw it on a conveyor belt.  Hopefully it would be meeting us in Rome.  Two down...kind of.

I was the third man through.  By this point I was getting annoyed with the lady’s pettiness, which she of course continued to show.  My problem was that I had “too many carry-ons,” one of them being my backpack and the other being a duffel bag.  She made me squeeze the backpack inside the duffel bag before letting me walk away with it, but eventually I got it in and moved back so Bill could walk up.  Keep in mind that I just addressed him as Bill.

While Bill placed his bag on the scale, the lady eyed his passport and the last name on our group confirmation email.  Again, she did a double take before looking back up at Bill.  The question she asked was like déjà vu:

“Is your name Bill or William?” she asked, just as she had before.

“It’s William,” responded Bill.  “But Bill is my nickname.”

“Hang on, I have to get my supervisor.”

That was not the response I had expected.  Here was Bill, sitting there with almost the exact same clothing, haircut, and of course face as appeared on the passport sitting on the counter.  But the confirmation email said “Bill Solinger,” while the passport stated that he was “William Solinger.”  Dear God.

We waited for a supervisor to show up, not knowing what to do.  When he did, he grabbed the confirmation and the passport from the lady, looked at it, and again asked Bill what his name was.  Bill tried desperately to explain that “Bill” was a common nickname for “William,” but the supervisor wouldn’t buy it.  He directed Bill to the EasyJet help desk where he could try and change the name on his ticket.

Naturally the help desk made Bill call a help line, which kept him on hold until his phone ran out of battery a half hour later.  Meanwhile, our two-hour window to get on our plane had narrowed to under an hour, forcing Bill to “purchase” a new name.  The transaction cost an extra 45 euros, which I paid for since I had made the clerical error.  I have done my best to say “William” instead of “Bill” for the last week, and will continue to do so for the remainder of the trip.

The rest of the flight was uneventful.  Ryan’s bag did show up in Rome and we all hopped on the train into the city, eventually making it to our respective apartments.  Our apartment is huge (there are 7 of us, including Matt from the original Caballeros…the other players who may now factor in to future blog stories are Brian, Joe, Steve, Aaron, and Matt B), but I didn’t have much time to enjoy it then.  We needed to get to bed and be ready to leave for Venice on a 7:30 AM flight the next morning.  If you thought the Bill/William problem was a bad one, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

Since our travel group was split for the night (Bill…sorry William and Ryan are about a 20 minute metro ride from our place), we had planned to meet at the train to the airport at 6:00 AM.  The train would take a half hour to get to the airport, where we could then run to our terminal and get on our plane.  In theory, it sounded flawless.  But, as you might have guessed, we knew nothing about Rome and how long certain things would take.  We were in for a long day.

Matt and I arrived at around 5:30 AM at the train station, hoping that William and Ryan would do the same.  We bought a ticket for the 5:52 train and waited.  And we waited some more.  We waited until the train whistle blew to get on without Ryan and William ever showing, so we hopped on.  After all, the airplane departure was the important one and maybe William and Ryan were already there.

With hope that our friends would be somewhere around the airport, we made our way to the EasyJet terminal.  When we arrived it was already 6:30 and there was no Ryan or William in sight.  So we waited again.  I had Ryan’s confirmation email with me and I didn’t want to check in without him.  We tried to talk to the ladies at the EasyJet counter to see if they had seen Ryan or William, but none of them had checked them in.  We were now running out of time.  The check in ended promptly at 6:50, giving our counterparts about 5 minutes to show up before the clock hit zero.

With one minute left, we were ready to give up.  If we missed the flight, our only other option would be to pay 74 euros for a one-way ticket at 3:40 PM, or 95 euros for a flight at 9:20 AM.  Awesome.  Suddenly, we heard running from the hallway.  We looked behind us, praying that it was our two lost travelers, but instead it was four other girls from our trip trying to make the same flight.  We sprang up to join them in the check in line, yelling at them as they passed.

“Are Bill and Ryan with you?” (I messed up on the William part there)

“They’re right behind us!”

We were in business.  We stopped chasing after the girls and turned to wait for our companions.  But, once again, our waiting was in vain.  10 minutes later, the girls showed up and told us that check in had just closed right before they got there.  Game over.  Time to pay up.  But where were William and Ryan?

While Matt waited in the terminal, I decided to venture out with the girls to look for other ticket options and the other two guys.  Our search provided us with no cheaper options than the ones we already knew of, so we headed back to the EasyJet terminal.  Still no William or Ryan.  What follows from this point is my account of what happened.

It took until 7:30 for William and Ryan to actually stroll in to the terminal.  Tensions were high.  I personally can’t remember a time that I’ve been angrier.  According to them, they had arrived at the train station “right at 6,” probably moments after our train had left.  They “waited there as long as they could” before getting on and heading to the airport.  Once there, they decided against sprinting with the girls and instead waited at the train station outside the airport for Matt and I to show up, not knowing that somewhere inside we were doing the same thing.  This story didn’t help my emotions.  I could see that, deep down, they were blaming us for not waiting at the train station while I was busy blaming them for not making it to the airport; the one place that you can’t be late to.  (A little aside: we made a pact later on the trip to never speak of this incident again with Scott on the Rocks earning a special exemption.  So please, don’t ask us about this.  This is the last time any of us will ever speak of it)

Eventually we made it to Venice, but that’s for Part Two, along with the rest of the fall break trip.  If we were to label these parts, Part One would be Problems.  From here, there are many questions that I’m sure you have.  Do we sulk the rest of the trip?  Do we reconcile our differences and have a good time?  Do we even make it to our next destination?  The answers to these questions and more can be found in the next post.

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Ben Hause.  Hause might’ve quickly moved in to the top stop for “doing the most to get on the blog.”  He arrived in Rome to visit yours truly on Thursday…now that’s dedication to the cause right there.  For some odd reason, I don't think that dedication will be bested.

European Insult Tally:

Bill-1

Scott-3

Matt-1

Ryan-3

During Part One of this three-part post, we definitely received more insults than we gave out.  I would count the EasyJet lady not calling William by his name (I mean, come on…it’s Bill) as an insult for sure.

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

National Past Time

Chasers, starting tomorrow at 2:30 PM Greek Time (that’s 6:00 AM CST), we are moving on out.  That’s right, my time in Greece has ended and soon the Three Caballeros and I, along with 26 others, are off to Rome, Italy.  We’ve had quite the last week here in Athens, trying desperately to get in everything that we hadn’t seen yet.  Our classes officially ended on Monday, so this entire week has been spent running around and seeing as many things as possible.  So excuse me if I haven’t been around to write a blog entry, but for the first time since getting here I can honestly tell you that I’ve been too busy.

Classes ended on a high note here.  When I last wrote, I still had a History and Art test to fret over.  Why was I fretting?  No clue.  Both of them were a lot easier than I had expected, and I hadn’t even stayed up studying the entire weekend (like some of the girls on this trip did).  It was quite the relief to be done because it meant the start of two straight weeks without class.  Once again, I ask you to pray for me and my difficult life…this is far too tough of a schedule for any mere mortal to deal with.

With the end of classes came the questions of “Now what?”  But, after a week of running around the entire city, I think we’ve sufficiently answered any questions of what to do in this town.  One thing that we hadn’t done yet was to climb all the hills around Athens.  There are a couple large hills on the North and South side of the Acropolis that provide amazing vantage points of the Parthenon and the rest of the sprawling city below.  We climbed the first hill around 1:00 PM on Wednesday (the one on the South side of the Acropolis).  This hill is so important that I forgot its name.  But seriously, it is kind of important.  And upon further research the hill is called Filopappou Hill.  How did I forget that?

In the 1800’s the Venetians were sitting on top of this hill looking at their enemies across the way…the Turks.  The Turks were cooped up on the Acropolis, and both parties were firing cannon balls back and forth like some sort of deadly ping-pong game.   Pulling one of the stupidest moves in history, the Turks decided to store their ammunition INSIDE the Parthenon.  Great call guys.  Really shows your dedication to history.  Obviously, one of the Venetian cannon balls went straight through a hole in the Parthenon roof, hit the cluster of Turkish ammunition, and blew up the Parthenon.  Art historians everywhere cried and Chinese firework-makers took notes.

Besides being on of the most notorious locations in world, this hill actually had quite the view.  We hung around for an hour and took some pictures before making our way back to CYA to meet up with some others so we could (you guessed it) go climb another hill!  The point of climbing this hill (Lycabettus Hill…that one I remembered) was to go see the best view of the sunset in all of Athens.  Lycabettus Hill is the tallest hill here, towering about three times as high as the Acropolis.  According to my guidebook, it’s the #1 thing to do during a trip to Athens.  It only took me two months to listen.  Needless to say, the view was spectacular.  We got up there with a little time to spare, allowing us to take plenty of pictures of the quaint church on the top and the city way down below.  Soon, however, the sun began its slow creep down and over the mountains, putting an end to the day.  The remaining orange glow served as a perfect reminder of the short amount of time we had left here before the dusk settled on our Greek journey.

The next day was one of the busiest of the semester.  Besides having to prepare for our departure, we still had a lot to see.  The main order of business: The 2004 Olympic Park.  We set out to see Athens’ largest stadium and recreational area at about 3:30 PM.  Little did we know that we wouldn’t be back until 2:00 AM.

After a half hour of riding on the metro, we arrived.  We had originally set out to see the stadium, but it turns out that basically every other venue for the 2004 Olympics was there too.  At first we didn’t think we were even going to be allowed into the park, but we soon found out how lackadaisical Greek security is.  Every venue in the park seemed to be semi-blocked off.  There were fences that ended too early, doors that were unlocked, and guards that were oblivious to anyone’s presence.  I’m not sure exactly how many things we saw that we shouldn’t have, but we definitely saw a lot.

Since the Olympics, the whole place had turned into one giant fitness club.  The Olympic pool that Michael Phelps once dominated was filled with kids learning how to swim.  The diving pool was festooned with amateurs who kept belly flopping into the deep waters below.  The indoor velodrome, once used for high speed cycling races, was being practiced on by a couple serious bikers along with someone on a moped and two people on a tandem bike.  It was like the Olympics gone mad.

Gradually we made our way to the giant landmark that we had really come to see.  By 5:00, after sneaking through one more hole in the fencing, we were right in front of the Olympic Stadium.  I should mention at this point that one of the reasons for going there was because there was a scheduled soccer game against the leaders in the Greek league (Panathanaikos) and the Austrian league.  We had been told the game was at 8:00.  So, you can imagine our surprise when there was no one else at the stadium except us.  As we walked around to the East side, we started to see security.  We tried to ask one guard to let us in, but he shut us down (more about that later, though, in the European Insult section).  We continued on, hoping that maybe we’d find someone who was easier to fool.  Basically, our walk was taking us on a gradual spiral downward towards field level on the same side that we first walked up to.  We started to pass multiple guards, none of which asked us any questions.  By the time we had done a full circle, we had gone down an entire level and had somehow reached the Southwest tunnel into the stadium.  Acting as nonchalant as possible, we walked right in.  Though we were stopped eventually, we still had enough time to take pictures of the field and the amazing facility that surrounded it (unfortunately, however, there wasn’t enough time to run a race at this stadium, but on the plus side, that means my Olympic stadium record will still stand at 2-0).

After being led back out, we decided to try to get in one more place.  We walked back the way we had came from, heading back towards all the security guards.  Without pausing, we strolled right through all of them and into the main players tunnel on the Southeast side.  When we made it to the field this time, no one stopped us.  We figured that every guard probably assumed that we had been questioned earlier, so they didn’t want to bother us again.  It took about a half hour before someone finally built up the courage to ask us what we were doing.  He was a heavier Greek guard who seemed as if he’d never confronted anyone before.  He probably got a service medal for actually doing something as a security guard, because no one else was doing anything.

With the image of the beautiful 70,000-seat stadium fresh in our minds, it was hard for the five of us to pass up actually buying tickets to the soccer game.  We made our way back to the metro station (where the box office was), bought our tickets, and headed back to the stadium.  At this point it was about 7:30 and still none of the gates to the stadium were open, nor were there any fans.  This seemed kind of suspicious, but we continued on.  We got to our gate and handed the people our tickets.  Unexpectedly, the guards freaked out.  It was about now that a wave of realization started to wash over us.  There was a reason that the stadium was so deserted and why we had been able to “sneak” in everywhere without anyone caring.  The game didn’t start until 10:30.  We were the first ones there, probably earlier than any fans had ever been before.  And, on top of that, we were apparently entering into the Austrian fan section.

Though we couldn’t understand why at the time, the guards had freaked because all of the Austrian fans were supposed to be arriving together to make crowd control easier.  We were escorted in to the main concourse of the stadium where we were greeted by the head of security, a huge mobile police headquarters, and a throng of police dressed in full riot gear.  What were we getting ourselves into?  The head of security took our tickets and led us to our seats, but as we arrived, he stopped short.  He turned around and asked, “Do you really want to sit here?” as if we were signing a death wish by doing so.  We still were lost, and didn’t understand why our seats would be so bad.  They looked perfectly fine (12^th row in the corner).  But then he explained: the Austrian fans would be sitting in the second deck directly above us…all 7,500 of them.  These seats were in perfect throwing range to get hit by anything they threw over the second deck.  And apparently, these Austrian fans were coming to fight.  Uh oh.

Realizing that we were ignorant to any and all dangers of going to a soccer game, the head of security (Nikos was his name) led us to some seats at the top of the first deck, underneath the overhanging second deck.  These would be safe.  Since we all probably were looking like scared puppies, Nikos promised that he would stay outside this section and keep an eye on us.  He stopped talking mid-sentence, hearing something in the distance.

“Do you hear that?” he asked

“Hear what?” we responded

“They’re coming.”

Suddenly, we started to hear cheers erupting outside the stadium behind us.  The Austrian fans had arrived.  They were bellowing like some sort of barbaric army ready for battle.  It was as ominous as this.  They were interrupted sharply by a loud bang that made us jump even though we were inside.  “Tear gas,” explained Nikos.  This was going to be interesting.

The next three hours were spent in anticipation, fear, excitement, and any other emotion that you can think of.  We waved to the guard who had stopped us in the tunnel, listened to the Austrians singing outside, and waited as the stadium lights grew brighter and the sky grew darker.

It turned out that the slow anticipation might’ve been the best part of the game.  Panathanaikos ended up winning 1-0 on a penalty kick, but other than a couple decent tries there wasn’t much offense.  However, it was an experience that I am definitely glad I was a part of.  Hearing that stadium rock with cheers and songs the entire game was amazing.  I mean, the Panathanaikos fans literally never stopped cheering and waving their giant flags for 90 minutes.  Now that’s dedication.

Alas, now that we had finally experienced the true Greek pastime, our time in Greece had officially past (see what I did there?).  I write to you now with less than 24 hours to go before I land in Rome.  My last load of laundry is drying in the window, my travel plans are neatly placed in a folder, and my last gyro at Grill and Pita awaits me.  Greece has been a pleasant surprise for me this trip, as I originally came here because I got to see Rome afterwards.  Now the icing on the cake is near and I can’t wait to eat it.

But before we get there, we have quite the weeklong trip planned.  The Three Caballeros and I are again heading out on our own, this time to see Venice, Salzburg, and South Germany.  We will be traveling to a new city almost every day until Halloween, so I will probably have a lot to write about when we finally get to Rome.  But, for the last time, I now say Kalinikta from Greece.  See you in Rome.

Here is the link to all the pictures from the last week in Athens.  Enjoy!

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Nikos, the Head of Security at the Olympic Stadium.  Not only did Nikos help us to our own seats, send us a snack man, and discuss America with us, he also later got two Bennies into the game for free.  He even informed the owner of Panathanaikos Football Club that there were seven Americans at the game.  The owner responded by telling Nikos to treat us like VIP’s.  I love Greek Security!

European Insult Tally:

Bill—1

Scott—3

Matt—1

Ryan—3:  Ryan scored another point because of a quick-witted comment he used during our walk around the Olympic Stadium.  Ryan was the man we sent to ask the guard to let us into the stadium.  Moments after we were shut down, a Greek man on a bike rode up to the guard, said something in Greek, and continued on into the stadium.  Without hesitation, Ryan turned to the guard and asked a new question: “Can you tell me where we can rent bicycles?”

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

2009 Olympics

It’s been a hectic week here in Greece for probably the first time since we’ve been here.  Classes are winding down (we only have two right now, and one’s done tomorrow, the other on Monday), homework is piling up (actually, that’s a lie), and we are now done with all of our excursions.  Our final one was last weekend, a three-day trip that circled us around the entire Peloponnesian peninsula, culminating in a two-night stay in ancient Olympia.  For those of you who are completely oblivious to any sporting knowledge, Olympia was the birthplace of the Olympics, still held today every four years (including 2016 in Chicag…oh wait, they lost).  Unfortunately, for the first time on our excursions, I was unable to think of a Lord of the Rings city to compare Olympia to.  How disappointed are you Chasers?

Just because I couldn’t compare Olympia to the ultimate fantasy realm doesn’t mean it wasn’t awesome.  It was actually probably my favorite place so far.  Filled with ancient ruins of statues, temples, and stadiums, Olympia still maintained the feel of a magical place that I could envision all Greeks making pilgrimages to.  Basically, Olympia is an open field in one of the few fertile areas in Greece.  Two rivers and large trees border the city, which is a giant grassy plain.  Amongst this plain lay some of the coolest artifacts in the world.

The first important object is the Temple of Zeus.  The temple itself has fallen apart, but it once housed one of the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World…the 17-meter ivory and gold statue of Zeus himself.  So where is Zeus today?  Some king decided to melt the statue down and make some more bracelets to wear.  How selfish.

The most important parts of Olympia, however, dealt with the Olympic games.  There is Hera’s Alter, where they still light the Olympic torch today before it travels on a relay to the new host country.  There are the fields where the first Olympic wrestling matches were held, including the Penkration, where the only rule was “No Biting.”  And of course, there is the original Olympic stade.  If all this doesn’t spell “Time for Scott to show off his superior athleticism,” I don’t know what does.

It’s pretty easy to still get pumped up heading towards the Olympic stadium.  The original tunnel still remains where the athletes would enter to thunderous applause, along with the original stade (or 200-meter long track).  The best part yet?  You can still run on it.  This of course prompted all of us to have a 30-person race—Bennies and Johnnies—with the winner getting to brag for the rest of their lives.  Gametime!

Since the guys here are all good Johnnies, the women were given a 25-30 meter head start (it could’ve been because they specifically had their own starting line, but we’ll just say we were being gentlemen).  Once the camera was ready and we had taken plenty of starting line pictures, it was time to race.  The girls requested to have one more picture, causing all the guys to wait nonchalantly at our starting line.  It was the perfect trap.  With us looking around the grassy bowl that made up the stadium, the girls jumped off the line and started running.  Cheaters!

Not wanting to be shown up, all the guys sprinted off the line, already having been fooled by the girl’s genius ploy.  For the first 100 meters, we played catch-up, gradually making our way towards the girls pack.  Fatigue began to set in.  Girls started dropping back like flies.  We were picking them off one-by-one, moving swiftly towards the front of the pack.  With 50 meters to go, we were free…or, at least some of us were.  Some of the Johnnies had gotten tired as well and started to back off, but I pushed on.  There was only one person between the finish line and me…Ryan.  Now Ryan is no athletic slouch himself, having played high school football and run track.  This was going to be a fight to the finish.

As we barreled down the line, our professors cheered.  We both were in full sprint, but Ryan didn’t yet know that I was right behind him.  I used my timeless old track tactic of pulling right behind him before making a move, but there was precious little space left.  With ten meters to go, I went for it.  I pulled around Ryan like a slingshot, switching into my sixth gear and pulling up beside him.  We were neck-and-neck, going down to the wire, ready for a photo finish.  We reached the line and I leaned forward, breaking the plane just before him.  I had done it!  Like Michael Johnson in his heyday, I had now won the 400-meter at the Marble Stadium and the 200-meter at the Original Olympic stadium.  How many people can say that?

The rest of the day was spent resting up our legs, playing cards, and trying our best to crash a Greek wedding at our hotel (we failed, but still were able to snag some pieces of candy).  Also, I had one of my biggest moments of cultural immersion when the Greek national soccer game came on.  The TV was quickly surrounded by over 30 members of the wedding reception who were clearly more interested in soccer than dancing.  It was surreal to stand there with a bunch of people who I couldn’t speak to, but that were still cheering for the same thing as me.  When one of the Greek forwards scored a bicycle-kick goal to take a two-goal lead, we all went nuts (Here's the highlights).  I felt so Greek.  I was later brought back to my American roots when a Greek man came over after the game ended and asked me some question in Greek.  He pointed to the TV, so I assumed he wanted the score, which I told him was 5 to 2.  He gave a different reaction than I expected, making a shocked face and quickly running downstairs to the rooms.  I stood there questioning my answer, hoping that the man hadn’t asked me the time.  Oops.  Early night for him.

The next day was our final day in Olympia.  Like the mature college kids we are, we spent the day going back to the sight and taking pictures of us doing some wrestling moves in the Olympic wrestling arena.  Just look at the pictures at the end.  It’s too difficult to describe.

Now that we’re back in Athens, we’re down to the home stretch.  Like my race against Ryan and the rest of the group, everything seems to be quickly moving towards the finish line.  We’ve made our plans to travel between Athens and Rome (we are going to Venice, Salzburg, and the Eagle’s Nest), and have already found out our flat-mates.  At long last, the Three Caballeros have been officially split up, with Ryan and Bill in the four-person room and Matt and I in the seven person room.  Since we are spread all over the city, we will be a good 40-minute bus ride from the other Caballeros.  But that’s what the rest of the group is for.

Lastly, I’d like to congratulate the Minnesota Twins on a great year.  Though it is too bad that they got swept by the Yankees (who I hate more than any team in the world), it may be for the best because we now can stop staying up until 5 AM every other night.  So, I guess what I’m saying is thank you Twins and thank you Metrodome.  Better luck outdoors next year.

Finally, I have pictures up from the last two weeks.  Enjoy!

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Snickers.  Apparently it is difficult for dogs to Skype with people in Greece, but Snickers gets a shout-out for at least giving a good effort.  This makes her the first non-human shout-out recipient, which I think she should get a treat for.  Just tell her it’s from me, please.

European Insult Tally:

Bill-1

Scott-3

Matt-1

Ryan-2

I could give out points for us trying to get into a Greek wedding, but that’s more of a compliment than an insult, isn’t it?

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Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves