Remembrances of Europe...continued...

Okay, okay..."Anonymous" has asked for more Europe stories...so here's another funny one.  But seriously? This isn't a "travel blog" or whatever...chill with the pressure, mmmkay??

So after 6 days of the drunken debauchery that is San Sebastian, Spain, my friend and I decided we needed to move on in our trip.  Lots to see and all that.  So we find out the train schedule and get all packed and ready to go....and then end up staying out till 7:00 am, crashing and missing our train.

Day 7: more beach, more paella, more drinking, more bar-hopping.
Day 8: made resolution to make the damn train, drunk/hungover or not.

So we finally make it to the train to Florence, Italy.  Sidebar: We got a bit smarter after the Paris to Barcelona train debacle (apparently, in Europe "ticket" does not so much equal "seat"...let's just say that me and this French military dude got to know each other pretty well.  Hey...don't judge.  The French Alps are flippin' cold.) and actually reserved an entire cabin.  We knew we were going to be on the train for over 20 hours, so we stocked up on the necessary provisions.  Cookies? Check. Salty snacks? Check.  2 liters of water? Check.  Two bottles of red Spanish wine? Check and check.  Good to go.

So we board the train and begin heading east toward Italy......and we ride.....and we eat....and then we drink....and we go to sleep....and we wake up.  And a 28-hour train ride later? We're in Rome.

Not Florence....Rome.

But hey, it's Italy, right?

If you ever go to Italy, there are a few things you need to know:

• First, don't follow shady Italian guys from the train station to their "hostel"....it's really just their apartment and they're not nearly as cool as Australian dudes. 
• Second, the sidewalks there are about 12 inches across....so put your head down to watch for cracks and WALK....and no, you will never master this in 3-inch heels like Italian women, but it doesn't make you a bad person. 
• Third, all the weight you lost backpacking around England, France and Spain will come back to you in spades if you eat Italian pasta and pizza with copious amounts of red wine every single night. 
• Fourth, the rustling in the bushes is NOT the pigeons you see by the hundreds on the streets during the day.  No, my friends, that rustling is RATS....giant, disgusting, beady-eyed rats. *shudder*
• And lastly, if you are looking at rooms in a hostel and the couple who owns it looks exactly like every mafia movie couple you've ever seen, meaning the dude is in the black silk slacks, white wife-beater, greased down hair and gaudy gold crucifix and the wife wears floral print dresses, has perfect hair and screams at him in Italian all the time??? Definitely take the room....hours of free entertainment.  And great coffee.