It's been a 55 hour sprint. Writing this now from here:
After the plane decided Copenhagen was too foggy to land at, they moved it to Sweden somewhere, Gothenburg or something like that, refueled for about an hour, and I made my flight to Rome by a half hour.
Land in Rome. Ear feels ruptured cause I didn't pop my ears the entire flight, cause I assed out. Walking down the customs corridor in Rome, I'm immediately reminded and made aware of something- the girls here are hot as hell. I'm sweating and looking like a maniac in all black and swollen eyes. I stank.
The hostel is clean, and I pass out again after seeing my bed. Going into he common room at night I meet this Argentinian girl and her friends, well they didn't know each other but happened to be Argentinian too. Nice enough kids, although one was essentially a neo-nazi. Cantaloupe and bar pizza for dinner. And beer.
The morning I walk 15 minutes back to the station and then take a subway to another train station. All good. Then I get on the wrong train, but lucky enough it's going to the same place and nobody broke my balls. 7 hours later I just got off the beach in atrani. This town is small. I opened my coke can, and it echoed through the piazza. What a pretentious word, let's just call it a square.
This town is next to amalfi, and I'm telling you, if you're a maniac, you've gotta live here. It's all alleyways, and houses built on top of them and what just seems like some unbelievable carving. If you ever get in trouble with the government, hide out here. It's cheap too.
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