Paolo Does Europe - Sept. 1

Long day today. I hung around Interlaken in the morning and took a later train. The happy hour last night at the hostel kicked my ass so a morning recovery was totally necessary. My team of debauchery included a soon-to-be Marine named John from Wash. D.C. (looked like Nate Krahn but shorter); a French dude; two Australian girls and a Swiss Army dude in full uniform. Oh, and this surfer dude from Laguna Beach (He hates the MTV show with his hometown's namesake) kicked it with us later. A lot of drinking, a lot of chit-chat. That was about it.

I took this beautiful train ride today through the Swiss Alps and it would have been better if I wasn't feeling so nautious. But then I remembered, as I was slowly dying, that I had Dramamine. That shit is so good it should come in a powder form and be made illegal. I have to thank Anna for the Dramamine tip.

So I got to Milan midday, found my way to the subway and went to Il Duomo (big church). The plaza was packed. I met some old American women who were touring with a larger group. They warned me about the expenses of the city and that added to a list I was already compiling about why Milan isn't so great:

• Il Duomo is under renovation. Scaffolding is everywhere, so it's not postcard picturesque at the moment.
• No cameras are allowed inside Il Duomo. I had nowhere to stash my camera, so I couldn't enter.
• The one and only hostel close to the city center, according to my Lonely Planet travel book, is under renovation, too.

Il Duomo is the only thing to see in this city as far as I'm concerned. This is a city of business, and one that's not very accomodating to backpackers -- especially scrubby backpackers.

Alas, I still took some nice photos:

I had to make a critical decision at about 18:00 (6 p.m.). Either I could trek out to try and find a cheap hotel in one of Italy's most expensive cities, or I could skip ahead to Genova on the West Coast. I chose the later.

I was sweating bullets on that train ride, watching the sunset, not sure where I could spend the night. I fully prepared myself to sleep outside in some park.

When I arrived at 20:45 (8:45 p.m.) I immediately found the informazione and the dude there was helpful enough to point me to the correct city bus. Somehow I got to my first bus stop. My lack of Italian language fluency was seriously hurting me in this city. While waiting for my second bus, I overheard a few dudes speaking English and it turns out they're Lithuanian (or something close to that) and were staying at the same hostel I was trying to get to. The bus came and the group of us hopped on.

Up and up it climbed. The hostel is on a huge hill overlooking the city. Not sure if I would have found it solo. On the way up the guys told me about how their aiming to go to school in Genova and all about their failed attempts to "fuck bitches." Nothing makes me happier than hearing them dropping f-bombs with those accents. So funny.

I get to my room and I'm lodging with a bunch of dudes who don't speak English, and the inability to communicate is really starting to show! Take for instance how they turned off the light while I'm writing this. Now I'm writing in the dark. Time to stop anyway. Need to rest. I've traveled a lot today -- from Interlaken to Milan to Genova. Tomorrow: Cinque Terra!

I missed the news last week that The Stranger has a new Editor In Chief, Christopher Frizzelle. Similar to his predecessor (promoted to Editorial Director) Dan Savage, Frizzelle is that uber-gay hipster type who got his writing chops in the weeklies circuit rather than the classroom.

(Don't worry, Savage retains his sex column and will remain alpha-gay at The Stranger.)

What I found most interesting about this story, which I got from P-I Art Critic Regina Hackett's blog (tons of interesting reader comments there), is that Frizzelle first worked at Stranger competitor The Seattle Weekly but was fired for leaking information to The Stranger. Frizzelle found refuge at the ever-ethically-sketchy Stranger, which rewarded him the title of book editor in 2003.

This explained the unusually large, but expected jab by the Weekly in this article that reports Frizzelle's promotion and points to no fewer than 36 Frizzelle articles in the last three years that have some basis in The New Yorker, boldly asserting a tone that Frizzelle has no original opinions or commentary.

Gotta love local media competition, like when Seattle P-I staff took a leak on the Seattle Times lawn after the latest JOA agreement.

Paolo Does Europe - Aug. 31

I'm at the Eastern (called Ost) Interlaken train station waiting for a train to Grindelwald to head up into the Swiss Alps. Doesn't that sound badass and foreign?! I swung by my hostel and dropped off my backpack first. That fucker was feeling heavy in my travels here from Zurich.

I feel like this place is much more lively than Zurich, basically because Interlaken feels like one big ski lodge. My hostel, Balmer's, looks like a ton of fun and is supposedly one of the hottest night spots in town. We'll see. If the patrons look anything like the girls at the front desk, we'll be in business.

Oh Jesus! Asians everywhere. Seriously, a small army just sprang out onto the platform! I feel like I'm back in Federal Way. They've got to travel like that. I'm sure very few people here speak any Asian languages, so they're getting through their travels by sheer mass. A lot of folks here do speak English, so I feel like a lot less of an idiot today. That's a good feeling.

I think I'll party hard tonight and head to Milan in the morning. I really don't mind this pace of travel. The days feel slow anyhow. Hopefully that keeps up.

Later that day...

At Grindelwald now. Beautiful up here. I'm in the nosebleed section of the Alps. The scenery is dramatic. The mountains stare down upon this humble little town and we all stare back up in awe. It's touristy. There are a lot of walking sticks for sale. Could I use one? Sure. Am I too proud and cheap to get one? Yep.

The hardcore hikers are here. They're calloused and sunburnt, sporting worn gear. I'm not camouflaging myself well wearing Lucky jeans, spankin' new New Balance kicks and a Red Stripe beer fitted t-shirt.
I'm sitting at a cafe overlooking the melting mountains and am about to indulge in a melting espresso gelato. The Gummy Bears I've been eating all day weren't holding up. This is some tasty gelato. After this, I'm taking the train down to shower and catch a nap. Did I mention that I think everything in Harry Potter is shaped by Switzerland?

My new shoulder...

Also, this month was announced "Vince's Italian Restaurant Month" by Seattle mayor Greg Nickels. As many of you know, Vince's is the Seattle-area restaurant chain started by my grandfather, Enzo "Vince" Mottola. This month, Vince's is celebrating its 50th anniversary.

Read the P-I and Highline Times articles about the anniversary.

I'll be making a special appearance at the Rainer Beach location this Sunday, if you'd like to see the tattoo in person.

Paolo Does Europe - Aug. 30

I'm told my plane will be landing in Zurich in 20 minutes. The flight has been easy. I tried sleeping most of the way to adjust to the time difference over here. No problem. Sleeping is my superpower.

Speaking of, I watched "Spiderman 3" on this flight, and God it was awful. First off, the 6-inch screen built into the back of the seat in front of me isn't well equipped to host a quality theatrical experience. Second, the movie blew anyway. I've been reading "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" by Hunter Thompson, which seems appropriate because it's all about a great journey, like the one I'm about to embark upon.

I realize now that I'm a bit ill-prepared for this journey because not only do I only know toddler-level Italian, but I know no German or whatever else people speak in Switzerland. I did successfully gain the pen with which I am writing from the Swiss woman sitting next to me, so that's a start. And I did meet a girl from UC Davis before boarding. Maybe I'll extend a social invitation to her before the flight's over. Maybe I lost my opportunity when I told her I didn't believe wine making could be a serious major. Oh well.

Later that day...

Trying to find a train or bus to get out of that Zurich airport was a real bitch. I can't read German for Christ's sake. That, combined with heavy rain didn't give me the best first impression of Zurich. But I found my hostel OK and it's conveniently located near everything I want to see, so that's good. One of my hostel roommates is a dude from Mexico and he is here competing in an international table tennis tournament. He seemed like a cool guy.

I've been eating "Take-Aways" all day. They're everywhere and they're cheap. Perfecto. It's about $8 USD for falafels, gyros, fajitas, etc. It's either this or Italian or Mexican. I'm sure I'll find better Italian food in Italy, and Moos is the bomb at Mexican food, so I don't think I'll be missing that here. I went to the grocery store and, let me tell you, produce is expensive here. $5 USD/lb for nectarines? What?! I bought Swiss chocolate though. The Swiss don't seem to have their own culinary identity aside from chocolate and cheese. I also bought a notebook, so that I won't have to continue writing in the back of my book. We'll call this the "Fear and Loathing" chapter, in retrospect.

I hiked up the hill and ran into what turns out to be the University of Zurich. A sign that I should start grad school when I get back I wonder?
The women here so beautiful -- to the point that's it's unfair to other nationalities. Everyone here dresses well. The men are all wearing suits with brown shoes. I don't see why this place isn't swarming with infants because everyone is so damn good looking.

The streets are clean and I have yet to see a bum. Something about socialism is working here.

I've seen two Starbucks so far, one of which was three stories tall! Holy shit! It was packed, too. I had to do my due diligence and order a mocha there. It's called quality control, people. Someone's got to do it, else American capitalism will plunder. Anyway, the mocha was a little strange, a different chocolatey flavor, but overall good. I hereby declare that this American company ought to continue it's practices in Switzerland -- especially when it can get away with charging the equivalent of $7 USD for a mocha.

I'm heading out to Interlaken tomorrow. I hear nothing but good things about that place -- reason enough for me to take a little detour and check it out.