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Showing posts from August, 2012

Quick Hit: It's All Greek to Me

Let me get this out of the way first: Santorini's beauty made me cry. There, I said it. In a summer chock full of alternately interesting, dazzling, and thought-provoking European sights, this island of all islands goes instantly to the head of the pack. Santorini is a shimmering stunner, the sort of spectacle that generates a wave of awestruck, involuntary tears. It's that simple. But not the side of the island that I'm staying on, mind you. My hostel located in the hot, deserty town of Perivolos is merely a 15-minute bus ride away, but it's a world apart. There are no cliffs on this side, no magnificent vistas to take your breath away. A half-empty black sand beach is all there is to boast about over here--not as if that is anything to sneeze at--and it's the volcanic kind that I have seen during my years of living in Hawaii, but never quite like this. The dark gray sand stretches for miles, as far as the eyes can see. It may go all the way to Athens, I d

Vino With Guido

The email said to look for a gray Mercedes van waiting outside the train station at Empoli, which would then shuttle us uphill to our hostel tucked away in the heart of Tuscany. It seemed like any other communication from a prospective accomodation, but one thing in particular caught my eye. This email was sent by a man who called himself Guido. Though we are in Italy, this name sends massive waves of cliches through my head, and each one leads to a smile. Guido? Tuscany? Mmm hmm. This was gonna be good. At around 8:15pm, I think I see my ride approaching. On cue, it stops right in front of the station, and shortly thereafter someone emerges from the driver side. My first view of this man confirms it for me. This has to be Guido. Out spills an older, lumbering walrus of a man, his thinning dark hair slicked back (as it should be), skin tan and leathery, with dark sunglasses covering about 3/4 of his face. "Guido?" I ask rather assuredly. He responds in a smoky ra