Edgy Trams and Ugly Doctors

Graz, Austria, 2018.

  

  I am so fucked off today. Not only did I wake up grumpier than a grandpa and groggier than a hobo who'd just shot up heroin, I also woke up late. To make matters worse, I had to wear a microphone in class for an agonising one-and-half hour, further perpetuating the Indian-working-in-a-call-centre stereotype.

  I have been doing more of what I love this week and not overwhelming myself with social obligations. So, naturally, the first thing I did was getting my procrastinating ass to Graz on Tuesday. Now, I might have been too penurious to buy avocados for the rest of the week, but the important thing is I made it there. I saw a new place. 

  Graz reminded me of Salzburg; I loved how accessible the woods are from the city and how I only needed a debilitating twenty minutes to receive a stunning view of the city. For free! No need for metros and buses. I realised just how acutely I missed walking. In Innsbruck, I would walk everywhere. Never mind how far, I would walk. The Inn would wail, the mountains would weep, as the pollen swept the air, the trees would shed their leaves in respect. 

  Anyway, now that we have taken care of my oh-my-god-I-am-enjoying-life bullshit, can we, finally, take a minute and discuss the fact that the medicine uni shuttle/tram in Graz is edgy as fuck?
Matt black. 
  
  Matt black!
  
  The fuck is this magnificence is wasted on med-students? 

 Matt black. Matt-mother-fucking-black. 
  
  The fuck do they need it for? Aren't y'all too busy saving lives and stealing drugs to stay awake on your shifts? I, for one, always am suspicious about attractive doctors. You mean to tell me that you are that attractive and you do not depend on your looks to get you through life? For me, the uglier my doctor, the more likely it is that the honour of treating me is going to befall him/her.  

  This is precisely why I refuse to grant my grandma's wish of getting with a well-to-do Indian boy (a doctor) - because all the good ones are ugly. What's the point of marrying a good-looking doctor if you are going to be neck-deep in lawsuits because your significant other sucks? 

You May Have The Universe, If I May Have Italy.

Leaning Tower of Pisa, Italy, 2016.

Okay, so my undying love for Italy is no secret, and in the past one year I have been fortunate enough to travel Italy in a little more detail. The result was me being awestruck, spell bound and baffled all at the same time. This little country has so much to offer; from ornate Cathedrals and Palaces to mesmerising beaches.

Every new city or town that I tackled left me feeling as if I were in some other place all together, rather than in the same country. No matter where I went in Italy, it always left me craving for more. Milan let me have a sneak peak at the city life, where people are out at all kinds of ungodly hours of the day. Cinque Terre reminded me that as beautiful and relaxing as the ocean can be, it can be equally destructive if you by chance find yourself near one at the wrong time.
Much like people; our tongues hold the power to alleviate pain and suffering by whispering words of kindness, but the same tongues can be wielded as weapons if not used with care. The same goes for most parts of our bodies, hands that heal can also be hands that stab, legs that carry someone else's burden can be legs that kick.
In Como I gained a newfound appreciation for different cultures that seemed to be separated by what seemed only a few miles (Switzerland and Italy). The language being just the tip of the iceberg.

Verona, Italy, 2016.

Verona, with its never-ending cobbled streets, dotted with picturesque houses and dainty little shops, had the heart of a city while having the culture of a small town.

Lastly, comes Venice. Oh, Venice, you were the highlight of my past year. You made me believe in love at first sight. You evoke in me a sense of calm and belonging. Your unfaltering rows of bridges and small streets instilled in me an unsurmountable acceptance of my life's path. Your people reminded me that strangers, too, can be kind. Most of all you jogged my memory as to why I love travelling.
My time in Venice taught me how a place could turn me speechless, and at the same time still make me feel as if everything that had happened in my life, had been leading upto that moment in Piazza San Marco, where I sat after sundown with a glass of Spritz in hand, listening to the soulful melodies being belted out by the various live bands present over there. In that moment it did not matter that I was broke or that I had failed. All that mattered was that I had found my way to that moment. I had found what made me happy.

It Was Love At First Sight.

St. Mark's Church, Venice, 2016.

It was love at first sight when I first saw Piazza San Marco on the Venice leg of my solo trip. I remember being so tired because I walked the entire way from the Santa Lucia Station, which is on one end of Venice, all the way to my apartment, which was near St. Mark's Square, on the other end of the island.
Lesson learned: Google Maps is not to be trusted when it comes to walking somewhere!
It straight up took me more than an hour to reach the hotel, where I was supposed to pick the keys to the apartment.
It was dusk when I got out of my apartment to go to the infamous St. Mark's Square. I did not expect anything much after the tiring day I had already had.
Believe me when I say this, the moment I got out of one of Venice's meandering streets and stepped into St. Mark's Square, I was spell-bound. It is one of those places that makes me realise why I love travelling so much. The Cathedral in itself is a sight for sore eyes, especially at dusk, when the sky is somewhere between a pink and a soft purple, which perfectly compliments the colours of the Cathedral.

By the time I finally managed to walk away from the Cathedral and take a right towards Palazzo Ducale the pink street lamps were turned on, throwing a warm pinkish glow over everything.
There are these two outdoor restaurants on that side, where a live band plays music every evening.
Now although eating at those restaurants is not something your girl could afford, I did the next best thing. I bought this amazing 2 euro chocolate gelato and sat on the steps nearby. Weirdly enough, eating this very same Gelato from the very same vendor and sitting on the very same steps is the only memory I have of visiting Venice with my family all those years ago.

If I thought that St. Mark's Square was breathtaking at dusk, I had a whole new thing coming for me, once the sun actually went down. The entire span of the Square was bathed by the soft glow of the street lamps, all the different live bands taking turns to play music in the background to soothe your soul and the laughter of the Gondoliers, who finally sit down to catch up after a day of work.

It was love at first sight for me.

Bridge of Sighs, Venice, Italy.

Sleepless Nights Spent Discovering Verona.

A little over a month ago, after months of overthinking, I undertook my first solo trip, my first stop being Verona.

Not many people know that the famous play, Romeo and Juliet, written by Shakespeare was based in Verona, Italy. Let me put it this way, after spending a little time in that magnificent city, I cannot even imagine that play being based anywhere else. Way to go, old man! 

My journey to Verona was one that was both: extremely long and exhausting. I took a train from Dornbirn, Austria to Lindau, which is at the Austrian tip of Germany. I, then, took another train to Munich Passing, from where I changed to a Schnell-Bahn that dropped me to the airport. 

I flew from Munich to Venice for 36 Euros, from where I then took a train to Verona, which in turn cost me another 10 Euros, and another two hours of my already short trip.

I reached the Porta Nuova train station in Verona around 4:30 pm. It took me another thirty minutes for me to walk to my Air B&B, which would have taken exactly three minutes by bus.

Once I reached my accommodation, I did all the necessary things- turn on the air conditioner, change out of my sweaty clothes and FaceTime my parents.

I finally got out of my room around 7 pm to head to the Verona Centrico, where all the action takes place.

Once there I made my way to Piazza della Erbe. I have to admit, a market in full swing is not what I expected to find over there. That evening I decided not to click pictures and to just enjoy my surroundings. Verona is what one expects Italy to stereotypically look like - cobbled streets filled with colourful old houses with beautiful flowers draping the balcony railings, outdoor restaurants and cafes filled with tourists and locals alike, cooling off after a hot and exhausting day with the Veronese drink- Spritz.

I then enjoyed some Bruschetta and a Spritz at a restaurant near Piazza della Erbe. I have to say that I find 12.50 Euros a little to much for an Appetiser and a drink that was practically a local drink.

They even charged me for the bread!!!! 

The bread!!

Your girl just had 80 Euros for the span of three days, including the transport charges.

So, yes, your girl was being extremely CHEAP. 

Hell, it took me months to save for this trip.

After dinner, I walked around a little more. It was finally getting dark. 

P.S. I love summer for the longer days.

Back to the point, I had promised my Dad to be home early, so around 9 I leisurely started making my way back to the bus stop from where I came.

*drumroll*

The last bus had left a few minutes before I reached.

It cannot happen. Right? Especially since my Google Maps showed me that there should be another bus leaving in 5 minutes time to take me back. So, naturally, I whip out my phone to recheck what I read, and *dum dum duuuummmm* it dawns on me that: one, in Europe the public transport timings change in the night, and two, the bus that is supposed to take me back to my B&B leaves from some other bus stop.

WHATTTT???

Google Maps says that the place is only a few minutes away but since I do not know the area and since it was already dark, I decided to go to the next big Piazza - Piazza Bra. It was the biggest and the most happening place in Verona, so it is just common sense that there should be a bus that will travel to my intended destination, right?

Nope. No such luck.

Now the problem with Piazza Bra is that there are quite a lot of shady people, who come out after sundown over there. By the time I reached the bus stop over there, you know, that I am already hyperventilating, but for my sake I put on a brave face and try to figure out a way back home.

The second problem with Piazza Bra is that along with the shady people, there are a LOT of tourists, who were just as clueless as me.

In the end I just ended up taking a bus to Porta Nuova, hoping that the last bus of the night had not yet left. 

At Porto Nuova, which was filled with even shadier people, I was at a loss as to whom I should ask about how I should make my way home.

I just asked the least shadiest person I could find, and as my luck would have it, he too had no answer to the question I held so dear to me, 'Which bus travelled to Santa Lucia?'.

So there I stood, hyperventilating, when the Gods, finally, felt sorry for me and sent a bus that stops at Santa Lucia. Thank fuck!

My Air B&B was not in the main city, meaning that it was somewhere pretty deserted. Now pair that with it almost being 10:30 pm with me, a girl, who does not speak the language and was so exhausted that she would not be able to throw a punch to save her life. 

To say that I was shitting myself the entire way; from the moment I got down at the bus stop to the time I reached my room would be an understatement.

Well, I reached the apartment without any instances occurring. Just when I start thanking my stars for letting me reach home safely, I realised that the main door of the apartment does not have a lock.

Why, God? WHYYY??

After a couple of minutes of cursing in the dark hallway, I make my peace with the situation and settled for just locking my bedroom door and praying that no one breaks in the wee hours.

Fast forward two hours later, just as I find my eyes drooping shut, I hear the main door being opened, and someone entering.

Although the rational part of my brain said that it was probably just another guest, renting the other available room in the apartment, it did not stop me from shutting my phone and hoping that the person assumes the apartment to be empty, just in case it really was a burglar. :P

I know, I know I should have listened to my parents when they told me that I was too young to watch all those horror movies. I guess, it is a little to late for that now. X_X

Me writing this blog proves that I made it through the night (Phew, right?).

All in all, that first night in Verona was definitely an experience that my parents shall never hear about.

Stay tuned for my next day in Verona. :D

Travelling Solo

15.07.2016 Venice, Italy

17 things I learned while travelling solo.

1) Trust yourself. You are the only one who can get yourself out of a jiffy right now.

2) Learn to sit at a Café alone and enjoy it. Take a book if it is dinner time. It will help you not feel so out of place.

3) Learn to let go and do what you want to do. You are alone amidst a sea of people, whom you shall never meet again. What is holding you back? Do what you feel like. Who cares what they think?

4) Take time to discover where you are. I do not just mean the tourist attractions, I mean the places where the locals go. Try to get a peek at the local life here. Roam random streets. Discover antique book stores that you have only read about in books but have never really seen. Visit coffeeshops that the locals frequent.

5) Try the local food.

6) Make sure you know how to get back to your accommodation late at night. Look up the public transport timetables beforehand. Find out if the trains, buses, etc. work according to the same timetables at night.

7) Dress sensibly. Try not wearing sandals that will make your feet hurt after walking for 30 minutes. Put some goddamned sneakers on.

8) Walk around with your headphones playing some local music. When I was in Verona, I did not speak the language, I was tired and I did not have a lot of time in that city. For some reason I just felt as if I was missing out on something. I then decided to google top 10 Italian love songs and play them. Voila! I finally understood why Verona was also known as the city of love. It is often hard to see why a place is considered amazing with throngs of tourists around one. So put on those headphones and be ready to be transported somewhere else.

9) Do not trust anyone and everyone. I know it sounds mundane. I mean how many times have we heard our parents tell us this very exact thing, but it is easier said than done. Gauge a person before asking them for help. Not everyone is a nice person trying to make sure that you reach your destination safely. Ask families. This applies especially at night when you are asking someone the best way to get to your accommodation because the chances are that the person might remember the address.

10) See the city at two times: one, early in the morning when all the tourists are sleeping in their hotel rooms, two, at night when the street lamps finally come to life and the entire city is lit up.

11) Strike a conversation with a few locals and try to see their perspective on their city.

12) Accept that you will not be able to check everything off of your To See List, and be content with what you have seen.

13) Take a few moments to think about what this trip taught you or made you feel.

14) Try to take back with you not a load of souvenirs but rather memories and experiences that will last you a lifetime.

15) Find your favourite place in that city. The one place that calls to you and makes you feel calm.

16) Imagine how it would feel like to live there.

17) Accept that you will not fall in love with every place that you visit and that it is okay.