I’ve posted a great video:

And built up a nice follow-up blog of that video in Text:

Train travel and general travel tips in Italy:

Train travel in Italy is a friendly experience and one that can be faced without fear. Traveling by train in Western and Central European countries is the preferred route of travel by most visitors. Buses are an option, and although often cheaper may leave you at the outskirts of a city or have very limited departure and travel times.

I’d like to outline my experiences and draw on my time in Milan and traveling through central and eastern Europe to give you some insight into Train travel. I arrived in Milan, Italy January 20th 2009 and stayed until May 1st before participating in a Travel Study program across Eastern, Central and North Western Europe (Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro, Albania, Macedonia, Greece, Turkey, Bulgaria, Romania, Serbia, Bosna I Herzegovena, Slovakia, Hungary, Poland, Latvia, Czech, Germany, Netherlands, Belgium, British isles). During my Travels I used a mixture of Trains and Buses. I’d like to focus the first half of this post on Train travel in Western Europe.

Specifically I’d like to start with the Italian train system as an example. The system is open, straightforward and efficient. There are three major rules,

1. When you enter a train station, look for automated tellers (usually coded for 3-5 major languages). This has two benefits, the first is that the machines avoid speaking with a teller who may or may not speak more than one language. Second this will help you get written information and possibly provide information in English/German/Native language/ Chinese. Do be sure to check if there are student/youth/senior rates that are only available from a teller.

2. Find the departures board and the regular/regional train board. These provide information on the types of trains (as well as a description of what their symbols mean) and a regular daily time table so you can plan day trips on short notice.

3. VALIDATE YOUR TICKET! I can’t stress this enough. In every country I visited it was required that you validate your ticket. In Italy the fine for failing to do so can be 50-150 euro. It varies country by country but often the cost of forgetting or failing to Validate is 2-5 times that of the ticket. If you notice you’ve forgotten or the machines are out of order, Train conductors (in Italy at least) are required to validate your ticket if you come and find them. If they find you and it’s not validated some will validate it for a in pocket fee of 5 euro.

If you keep these three rules in mind, travel in any country via train is simple, stress free and can be significantly easier.

In Rule 2 I mentioned that there are different types of trains. In Italy there are fast trains, normal trains, and then there are the big commuters – called regional trains. Treno Regionale are the cheapest form of train transport in Italy. They are generally half the cost of normal trains and 1/3 that of the fast trains. They take a little while longer since they stop at almost every station but the difference in cost can make up for the delay. If your traveling across Italy, it may be worth the time to check different major cities along the path and check the Regionale connections. Instead of an express train you can catch a few Regionale commuters for a fraction of the cost. (Note this is not always the case, at times the number of changes can make the cost savings minimal).

The photo’s included here are representations of Italian (Trenitalia) equipment. However, the principles held true in Germany, Poland, Czech, Belgium, Holland, and the UK. Validation, and Train departure/automated systems are nearly universal in developed countries.

The second half of this Blog refers to Bus travel in Eastern Europe.

When I left the European Union and the fringe Shengen countries, I encountered an interesting phenomenon. Major train lines passed through capital cities and avoided smaller principalities. Leaving me with only one option – Buses. Eastern Europe, Greece, and Turkey especially were prone to major inconveniences when using the Train system. The trains were slower, less comfortable (minus sleeper cars) and had less flexibility and variety in travel destination, however to my surprise Bus travel in Eastern Europe is exceptional.

Eurolines is one company that does cross European transit – I’ll use their coaches as an example of the type of buses made available to travelers:

These large, 40+ seat buses generally have media – TV/VCR/DVD and in eastern Europe (Bulgaria, Romania, Turkey, Serbia, Bosnia) they also have in drive refreshments (soda/water/snack food for free) and Orangeways and now some of the other major companies like Eurolines even have WIFI built into the buses. It’s a sense of luxury travel for a fraction of train ticket prices. As an illustrative example, I traveled from Istanbul, Turkey to Plovdiv, Bulgaria for 1/3 the price of the train ticket and arrived in just under ¾ of the time. As I continued my travels through Eastern Europe I ran into a lot of travelers who had purchased Inter/Euro Rail passes and found them to be a bad investment for eastern European countries for two reasons.

The first is that Train transportation in Western Europe is Much more expensive than eastern Europe making a Inter/Euro Rail pass a great investment because it sets a standard cost for each journey. However, Given the lack of functionality on most train lines and the lower cost in E. European countries the pass was more expensive than buying tickets individually and didn’t allow use of bus travel.

Chuckling to myself at the wonders of travel, I get off the train at the next station only to be ushered onto a bullet train right next to the one I’d gotten off. The problem? The train I was put on was going to Polom. Sweaty, Hot and severly lacking airflow the entire direct train packs onto the already full Polom train. with people sitting in the aisles and standing in the door corridors we ride for another hour – the beleaguered air conditioning not able to cope.

Sweaty and miserable we’re then ushered off the train at Polom and pushed like cattle onto buses. Again too few buses too many passengers. with people standing in the aisles on the big coaches we head toward another city. Without direction other than clerks pushing us toward the next destination I feel lost and unable to get my bearings. I threw myself to the wind and just enjoyed what little I could during the travel. without airflow, stuffed human beings in tin cans raise the humidity level considerably.

The buses arrive at a bus station in a town I’ve never heard of and couldn’t find on my map and they point down the street saying Praha. without knowing it, ten minutes walk down the street we find (much to our delight) the Train station. we wait for a 45 minute late train which should connect us to Prague. From there its 3 hrs to Praha, we’ve already been traveling for four since the border town. we board the train, again unventilated with only small windows at the tops of the car just in time to miss another summer torrential downpour. Humid and rife with the smell of humanity we pack into the train cars and fit 8 people to a cabin with people still out in the hallways. The train takes another 7 hours to arrive in Praha at 11:45pm. We’ve been pushing since 8am.

The problem was that due to the catastrophic flooding which is apparently unexpected for this time of year, many of the main rail lines were flooded or washed out. In addition 10 people had been killed by the flooding and many roads had washed away. Due to these problems, there were only a very few open rail lines to Prague. As if this wasn’t enough of a problem, a lot of the rail lines don’t connect until Praha, leaving the rail companies to have to bus their passengers between the lines. Then the Queue of trains trying to use the few open lines made for delays of up to 6 or 7 hours. It made for a wonderful time and a great day journeying to Prague.

I located the library and made my way inside. I met the librarian and we quickly discovered that neither of us spoke the others language. She went back into the stacks and came back with a colossal 1980’s Polish to English dictionary and began to translate a sentence I had written.

Seeing a computer terminal nearby I pointed and expressed Internet. She understood and let me get on while she went to work translating. I quickly booted up Google and although in Polish I opened the language tools section and went to their translator. I then quickly began typing my questions.

“I am looking for my ancestors, Haskell/Chaskell, Berger, Loseman… Any of these names buried here?”

“I understand, Please wait a moment”

“Maybe, Catholic priest mastered a document about Jews in Lipsk. Maybe. Wait.”

“Is there a Cemetery? Or the old synagogue or schools?”

“Yes. Cemetery. Only two Jew buildings still.”

“Can I see them?”

“Yes, But one may be school. Synagogue torn down – pool now.”

“Wait forty minutes and I can master you to the Cemetery and Old Jew street.”

I sat patiently as she finished her shift, we were then joined for 10 minutes by a young man who was studying a little bit of English. he had just finished high school and was eager to try out his English although nervous as well. He said he could walk with us for a few minutes and translate but couldn’t stay long. I repeated the earlier conversation to him and then asked him about the graves and any records about deaths or families living in Lipsk from the end of the 1800s.

The answer was – the Cemetery was pillaged, parts of it were taken by farmers and the tombstones broken or thrown away. What little was left was kept on a forested patch of ground preserved from farming a little outside the city. It had a memorial but the only stones there were from 65-75. She said there were no Jews left in Lipsk. No one took care of what was left of the cemetery.

We arrived a few minutes later. The cemetery was as described. a small corner of a field down a dirt road. Completely overgrown, what few tombstones were left were in the far righthand corner under a large tree. All placed together and relatively recent. I kneeled in the grass and undergrowth. Focused myself and connected with the spirits and feelings of those who may have died or lived in this place. My ancestors, my family.

I felt like they only passed through. That this place was only a temporary stop on an ageless journey. My mind turned and all I could think was our family was nomadic, this place wasn’t our origin or destination, only a stop along the way.

We left the cemetery and walked on, reaching a small building which was where the last Jews in Lipsk had lived. It had survived since the 1850’s with some moderate upgrades in the 1970’s. it was rough and abandoned, but still had curtains inside and a little well outside. We continued on to the Jewish street Ulica 400. There we met the Catholic priest who had written about the Jews in Lipsk and although our translator had left us, we communicated through sign language that the only other building was a home, which may have been the school house my great grandfather helped build. From there we walked to the town’s new recreation center, built where the synagogue had stood. He gestured to the large open pool demonstrating how big it was and what it looked like.

We headed back to the Library and the Librarian gave me a copy of the priests book, in Polish but none the less a palpable reminder and perhaps a guide to what came before.

I left the library with the librarians contact information and headed to the bus stop to return to Augustow.

At the bus station I found I’d missed the bus and had to wait until 4pm for the next bus back. As I was reading the sign my translator and his younger brother (who does Parkour) stumbled upon me, invited me back to their house for a drink and then decided to give me a tour of the monuments and sights of Lipsk.

We saw the Church, Monuments to soldiers from Lipsk, Communistic monuments, old artillery, and the river and lands around the City.

We then had a quick lunch of pizza, and meandered around until later that afternoon. Then my translators younger brother decided to demonstrate his Parkour ability, starting with a J-flip, and going into two aerials, first a back flip and then front flip, followed by running up the bus station wall and doing another back flip, then running off the top of a hill and doing a front flip to land on a narrow ruined wall below. Impressed we talked for a bit more about university and what they wanted to study and then I caught my bus to Augustow.

I waited in Augustow for 6 hours for the 10pm bus to Krakow ( a tiny little minibus for a nine hour ride ) and then checked myself into my hostel, booked my hostel in Prague and made my way the next morning for a 15 hour ordeal.

Apparently the Polish rail system accepts student discounts only for polish nationals. However, their railway desk had sold me a student ticket, having accepted my student ID (ASU Sun Card) and taken down my student number. I boarded the train and had no issues until the Railway conductor asked for my student ID with my ticket. She didn’t speak any english and I didn’t speak any polish so I had to rely on a young Polish girl as translator. The railway conductor was upset and expressed through our translator that my student ID was not valid and that I would have to pay a fine on the ticket of 150 Polish Zloty. When I refused and asked the translator to explain that their offices had taken down my ID number and had sold me the ticket and that I had accepted it in good faith of its validity. As such I was in no way responsible for the violation of the rules nor was I going to pay her 8 times the ticket price in a ticket.

The conductor became rather upset at this and after some heated yelling at me and my translator in Polish, my translator told me that she now wanted my passport and that the ticket would be 200 zloty. I refused to give her my passport at which point she screamed a bit more in polish and then started saying Police Police. My translator then informed me that she was threatening to call the police if I didn’t pay the fine and that they would meet me at the station. She then asked me for my passport again so she could write me the 200 zloty ticket.

I stood my ground and refused her again. Noting again that their offices had sold the ticket and that it was a problem between those offices. If she felt there was such a big issue we could discuss it at the PKP station in Warsaw with someone who spoke english. After 5 minutes of me repeating my offer she yelled again at my translator and stormed off. My translator then told me that in two hours, when we arrived in Warsaw the police would be waiting for me at the station to arrest me.

I sat for the rest of the train ride in relative suspense, knowing I was in the right and sure that I wouldn’t be punished for doing nothing wrong. In my mind I kept telling myself that I would be vindicated by the police. The constant positive reinforcement boosted my mood and I took video using my Flip Video camera of myself on the train with the ticket explaining the situation just in case.

I disembarked the train to the call of two Polish police officers dressed in solid black with night clubs and guns waiting for me.

We repeated the same dance as I had on the train. I staing firmly that I was in no way responsible for the mistake and would not pay. I especially wasn’t going to pay a fine for a violation I had not committed nor was I going to pay a fine for a fine for that violation. I showed my student ID and expressed my concern that I was being taken advantage of as some kind of a gimmick against travelers.

By this time I was also quite aggrivated and over an hour late for my check in at my hostel.

After some more back and forth the officers finally gave up on trying to get me to pay for violation and instead tried to explain to me that I had to pay for their appearance. IE: I had to pay the costs of their being called and coming to sort this out. At this point I insisted that I didn’t violate any rules, the Issue was one between the two PKP offices and needed to be sorted out there, as such I was not responsible for the Conductors decision to call the police.

Finally the officers gave up and just walked away and left me to wander to my hostel a full hour and a half after my check in appointment.

I checked in, Had a drink and walked down Nowy Swiat (new world) street in Warsaw before having a traditional polish meal and calling it a frustrating day.

I could only stay for one night at the hostel because the next evening was a city sponsered free concert by a Mr. Lenny Kravitz and everything was packed. Nervous and unsure of where I would stay, but sure that I wanted to take the time to see and really understand Auschwitz and Birkenau I arranged with one of the gentlemen working at the Hostel to Couch surf for the night at his apartment. After leaving my bags at the Hostel I headed for the tourist tour booth and picked up my ticket for the Tour.

Auchwitz is an experience that is hard to describe. My foto’s can only express a small portion of the combined atmosphere and understanding of how many thousands of people were executed and tortured there. Our bus pulled in after an hour long documentary shown on the ride over. The weather had turned from semi-sunny to dark, forboding, cold and rainy. Nasty weather for a nasty place.

Dark silver and black clouds rested over the complex as we passed through the electrified barbed wired fences and past the famous gate reading “Arbiet Macht Frei”

As we passed under the gate our guide began her description of the grounds and the daily proceedures. From daily public hangings to torture and suffering wrought for the slightest action Auschwitz was a place of horror. The feeling of that suffering has not been washed away.

Even as the rain poured down the brick, running clear and picking up the reddish colour of the brick it was clear that the suffering here will never be washed away.

we turned down the main block corridor and started entering the buildings, examining shoes, combs, suitcases with namesand addresses written on them and finally a room containing tons of grey and decaying hair. The Hair was used by the german war machine to make uniforms, socks, and felt… what was left over is perserved in the museum open and in braids. The very real pieces of the humans beings who were slaughtered and tortured there threw me over the edge.

We continued on to the prison barracks and inspected the standing, suffocation, and isolation rooms, as well as the death wall where the firing squad operated.

Finishing by walking through the gas chamber and undersized crematorium at the end of the camp we quietly climbed back on board our bus and headed to the Ruin of Birkenau. Auschwitz II Birkenau is mostly destroyed. The germans burned the warehouses holding all the prisoners belongings at Birkenau to the ground as well as detonating explosives in the giant crematoriums there in a desparate attempt to cover up their sins. they failed. the imported german stables- cheaper to reassemble there than build brick buildings – which housed 700 people in the space where you would fit 50 horses still stand, perserved as a museum complete with the barrack used as toilet and wash room. Five minutes for a total of 2000 people to use the facilities. Violators executed.

We made our way to the tower, made famous by Schindlers list and over looked the camp before boarding the bus and heading back to Krakow in somber reverence.

I left Krakow early the next morning taking an afternoon train to Warsaw.

and wandered inside to view the splendor of the edifice: From its gate

To the central altar:

and even its courtyard:

I saw St. Stephens Mummified hand, encrusted in rubies, diamonds and precious metals, and then we headed on from the Church to find the Chain bridge and make our way to the Palace atop Castle hill in Pest.

From the Chain Bridge:

With its growling and gruesom protectors

We made our way across and up next to the funicular towards the palace which sits overlooking Buda. The castle which held the last german resistance to soviet invasion in world war two and houses budapests underground nuclear bunkers and hospitals.

the view of parliament from Pest Castle:

The Palace grounds which now house galleries and museums as well as the state library are decorated with beautiful fountains the like of which I have not seen before. Each fountain shows a different scene from life.

Fishing:

Hunting:

and then there were the fishing monuments and castle walls:

From the walls we headed down into Pest and found the Underground entrance to the underground hospital and once top secret nuclean bunkers built into the natural caves under Pest palace and castle.

The tour was eerie climbing through wax museum dummies of doctors, suffering world war II patients and the 60’s era hungarian defense propaganda. we finished after an hour and made our way back to the Hostel. The next morning I headed out to the bus station and caught a bus to Krakow Poland.

I woke up the next morning bright and early at 9 am, stumbled about the hostel sleep deprived until I managed to connive some norwegian girls to make me coffee and tea and then grabbed my camera, a cold douse of water over my face and began to walk the city.

I passed some great signs:

and then started into the city architecture:

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An Archer in the park: Surprise!!

and then found myself facing a giant memorial which dominated the northern half of the city of Buda. The memorial built in commemoration of the Hungarian empire documents its great kings and leaders and is dominated by an angel lead by what I presume is a statue of the first kings of Hungary. the Orthodox cross raised high.
Chariot Horses:

First kings:

Angel:

After the monument I headed into the park and found the Buda castle an amazing structure which now houses the Budapest Natural History Museum.

and the statue of Anonymous:

Complete with beautiful women crawling on it:

I wandered around the park to the Bath’s and watched Hungarians and tourists play in the waters before taking a shot of the entry way

After the park I called it an afternoon and headed back to the hostel. But only for a short while, I took myself a nap and then headed out to see Pest!

I made sure to book a bed for the next night and took a long hot shower to wake up. Then I called my friend Matthew Jacobs and left the hostel around 10am to meet up with him. I missed him and decided to go to the tunnel museum which showed the city during the serbian siege and the tunnel which meant life or death to those trapped within sarajevo during the 90’s war.

The tunnel museum was more than just the simple, narrow, tunnel which ran from bosnian free territory to sarajevo, it was a tour of the sieged city, pictures of what it looked like less than 15 years ago, and footage of War tourism (the act of buying time on a sniper rifle gunning down civilians within the city). Pretty heavy stuff.

I met Matt later that night for some nibbles before we got ready to go out.

After a filling and heavy Lasagna at Barhana in oldtown we headed back our separate ways to get ready for the night. We met up and headed to the park to relax and wait for Bosnians to get ready and head out for the evening. from the park we went to Sloga a salsa/mix club 5 minutes from my Hostel. We danced until 3 am before calling it a night and heading back.

The next morning we headed around the city for a nice walk of old town and the city. we ended up napping in a park by the latin bridge (where Ferdinand got shot)

Napping in the Park:

and then headed over to the brewery for some good nibbles. We arrived in the very Upscale brewery and ordered a decent meal before settling in to talk.

after eating we hiked up to the overlook over sarajevo and watched the sunset. I did some human javelin throwing :

Watched the sunset

then prepared for another night out at the pub and a 7am bus to Budapest!

Belgrade is Eastern Europes Berlin. The Nightlife there is startling. The culture is Party all night, drink coffee and enjoy the pedestrian only districts during the day. Spectacular. I wandered to Green Studio Apartment Hostel on the 6th floor of a building just a few blocks from the Railstation, dropped my gear, checked my mail, grabbed my camera and ran out the door. Wandering the streets of Belgrade I made my way to the Fortress, and inside it to the Military museum showcasing rows of tanks, artillery and weapons for seige and assault throughout serbski history.

Fortress’s walls and impressive battlements completed I made my perilous journey in search of Serbian food. I was delighted to find a serbian shop which, named after the norse god of mischief provided me with suitable food and drink. I got a sandwitch like meal with a huge sausage patty folded over and stuffed with katchup, mustard, coleslaw, sauercraut, spices, and chili.

Full and satisfied I started my march back up the narrow streets toward the pedestrain district, I meandered through the universities student square and grabbed a few shots of some really impressive graffiti before making it to the main pedestrain way. There I found myself a hot coffee and muched bread while watching the beautiful serbian women pass by.

As night rolled in I made my way back to the hostel, took a quick shower and hurried out to do some dancing. I was stoked and ready for a good time. I found a club called Anderground which was built into the cave systems under the fortress. They had salsa EVERYNIGHT. I started dancing and quickly made friends with the salsa crew who were dancing there. they brought me in and started me to teach the Rueda calls in Serbian (haha awesome) and then showed me rueda style salsa on my own. I threw in a little LA to keep it new for the girls and had a wonderful night dancing. I repeated my dancing Saturday and Sunday night I headed on from Belgrade to Sarajevo.

Saturday during the day I walked the new city (spreading down the hill from the old jewish quarter) and found the closed (sucky) Nikolai Tesla Museum. I’ll have to go back to find that museum when its open. It looked amazing.

The city of Brasov is beautiful, quaint, but also jumping. The people are clear eyed – mostly blue and green – with brown to dark blond hair. I bought a replacement earring (my earring from Venice had broken and I had to replace it) and looked in vain for a place to go dancing. Satisfied with a quiet night I hit the hostel, watched the movie Taken (brilliantly retarded) with five girls from the hostel, had a nightcap and hit the sack. Showering early in the morning I hopped on a guided tour of Peles Palace (SPECTACULAR) Bran Castle (weak) and Rasov Fortress.

Peles is an example of wealth beyond wealth. Built from 1873 to 1918 the palace is decorated in intricate inlays of wood. There are no paintings. Instead, each portrait and work of art is made of between 10 and 20 kinds of inlaid woods, done in unbelievably intricate work. There are life sized detailed wood carved statues – the men are in decorated platemai. The wood is meticulously carved including the embroidery and embossing of the would-be steel. The intricate lacework of the wood continues down to the chain mail undergarments, each ring distinct and clearly carved. Outside of the entry hall there are long rectangular rooms, each representing a different culture from Italian, German, Swiss, Venetian, Spanish and French. Each room is made of materials imported from that area mimicking its greatest and most beautiful treasures. The Turkish room for example is a full room with every square inch covered in silk carpets including the floors, walls, ceilings, tables, chairs…everything in the room is embroidered intricate silk… Stunning.

In shock from the display and deeply saddened that I hadn’t paid the 20 euro to take pictures I wandered through the extensive gardens before being collected by our guide and lead on to the very disappointing Bran castle – nothing more than a weak, small, bare hill fort protecting a small unessential pass.

We made it to Rasov Castle and enjoyed the view as an afternoon storm rushed over the castle walls and covered everything in rain and storm. I had the driver drop me at the train station and started to Beograd.