Trieste

So, its almost my weekend once again which means I need to stop putting it off and blog about last weekend before the memory falls into an abyss. It was our first weekend we were allowed to travel overnight, so Kimi, Taylor, Kari and I set out to Trieste on Wednesday morning at 7:30 am. In order to commence any significant travel, we must first take a bus to the train station in the major city nearby, Pordenone. 15 minute bus ride to Pordenone, followed by a 3 hour train ride left us anxious and excited to explore Trieste. Group 1 had come back from their Trieste trip with exciting stories about the beach and the hostel. Our first decision was made at the train station that we would first set out for the beach and then take a cab to our hostel. Halfway down the block I realize that my sunglasses were left on the bathroom towel dispenser. I ran back and unfortunately, they were already gone. It was a pretty awful day to be without sunglasses as it felt like I was melting underneath my large black backpack (obscure stroke 9 reference).
Eventually we navigated ourselves through the large port area and found the beach. Instead of the sandy beach we had experienced in Bibione, it was more of a rocky beach like they have at lakes I remember going to when I was little. To get into the beach we also had to pay 1 euro and the women and children were quickly split from the men. This was kind of a confusing concept to us until we got to our beach and realized that most of the women in Italy have no problem bearing it all for the world to see. It was also very apparent that they have no problem going sans sunscreen and I am still really curious if skin cancer is more prevalent here than in the states. We were at the beach for the heat of the day on a very, very hot day. It was also that morning that I had woken up late which left me throwing poptarts into my backpack instead of packing a lunch. I soon learned that you can only eat so many poptarts before they start making you feel sick instead of making your hunger go away.
A couple scorching hot hours later, we decided to get moving and find our way back to the train station to get a cab. On our way back to the station, we looked into a large store and saw cheap clothes and tons of people milling around, and in we went. Think of the most stressful outrageous loud shopping experience you have ever had, and quadruple it. This is what our experience was like. There were probably around 100 people squished in a small warehouse-like store that looked like it had been set up over the course of an hour. There weren't any price tags or sizes, just chaotic clothing racks packed together in no particular order. Finding clothes was the easy part. The hard part, as Kari and I were to find out, was paying for them and leaving. As we walked toward the register, a loud Italian man grabbed our clothes from us and scribbled numbers onto a pad of paper. We tried handing him money, but he just pointed at the registers and kept yelling at us in a way that wasn't very helpful. We reluctantly left our clothes behind with Angry Italian Man and played the part of ignorant American tourist at the counter. Thankfully, our cashier spoke english and I could explain to him that I was being charged more for the exact same shirt that Kari was buying in a different color. Loud Italian arguing ensued between Helpful Cashier and Angry Italian Man before I was told that after paying the more expensive price and picking up my clothes, I could bring it up to show him. Sure enough, when I showed him they were the same, more Italian arguing ensued. As he reached to give me the difference back, Angry Man approached the counter waving his hands as the Italians are so well-known for doing. Helpful Cashier assured us that Angry Man had just retired and bid us farewell.
Finding a cab and taking it to our hostel was a pretty easy and quick process. The only hard thing about it was shelling out 8 euro for a trip we could have easily taken on the bus (if we had known where we were going).  After settling down, the consensus was that we were all starving and would go out in search of somewhere to eat. We didn't want to leave our bags unattended in our unlocked room that we were sharing with a stranger so we walked down the coast in the sun for about 30 min before we were all about to pass out. We crossed the street and found gelato, and the bartender asked for instructions on making traditional American "prom punch". After we tried a few of his concoctions, he told us that there weren't any grocery stores or mildly-priced restaurants within walking distance. The only way to reach one would be to take a bus back toward the train station. Unfortunately we hadn't bought bus tickets at the train station. He quickly assured us that no one bought tickets and it was never an issue. We decided to try our luck at one of the beach shacks as we made our way back toward the hostel. I was completely blown away when I heard "Californication" playing from the cart we finally got our food from. It was a good 3 minutes as I savored both the music and the panini.
When we got back, we met some guys staying in the hostel; one from Australia (Michael) and the other from Germany (Stefan). For the rest of the night we hung out with them, discussing variance in the English language between Australia and the states. Dad- about half the time there they say schedule with the hard c sound, and half the time like "shedule". Interesting fact.. the phrase "No worries" originated in Australia. We also talked a lot about music and how lucky Michael was to be going to see Pearl Jam in Venice sometime soon. The next day Stefan hung out with us as we explored Castle Miremare and visited the beach right outside our hostel. Before taking off we all went to get gelato and then hopped on a bus to the station. It was a busy two days but some very good travel experience since we are soon leaving to Cinque Terre on the night train!