Banana Gellato

I have an upcoming vacation. Its gonna be cool. Sub zero cool. And its coming up fairly quickly now too... I have just over one week to learn how to say "Hey Mister you have bad B.O." in Italian (I think Italians have unbelievably bad BO) Italy. Ill be spending about a week of drinking coffee thats to die for and eating street side Banana Gellato. I cant wait. And then Im off to Greece to eat dirt cheap chicken souvlaki everyday. Again, I cant wait. My buddy Martin is coming over for this enjoyment too, so I have a partner in crime. It all starts next Thursday. Im starting my vacation early and Im taking Friday off as well, although my boss doesnt exactly know this yet... (hmm... hopefully that wont be an issue, sneaking out the back door seems like a good plan still)

The whole point of moving over here, apart from the international job experience, was that I could take advantage of the european travel opportunites (I have 23 days of vacation. I cant believe Im able to say that). This is the first one in what will hopefully be a congo line of many. La cauco racha. Back in Vancouver I rarely if ever took any vacation, and it was quite expensive to go anywhere kewl. Now its only a few coins to get anywhere (more on that in a minute), so its about time I start to make up for it.

Personally I think there is nothing better than living out of your backpack and playing co-ed hostel roulette. Most are familiar with this game... you walk towards your new hostel dorm room, and wonder who youll get as bunkmates; who is it today? Of course you always hope for Heidi and Bridget from Sweden, and Linda from Australia and Maria from Spain and no one else. This almost never happens though. To me anyways. I seem to always get stuck with the worst luck, and get the likes of Big Olga from Poland who makes the top bunk droop, Hiro the crazy wierd Japanese guy who cant speak English, Stuart the Kiwi freak whose constantly on uppers and stealing from everyone, Raul the happy-go-lucky Brazillian who farts during his sleep and stinks up the joint, or Charles the 50 year-old pothead burnout lifestyle traveller thinking hes still 18. And then there is Gary from Vancouver, who walks into the dorm late into the night stumbling drunk, turns the lights on, makes unreal noise going through his stuff and ends up waking everyone up. Ahh yes... hostel roulette. I get two weeks of this... and I miss it so.

And you know how much this gonna cost? Well the flight from Dublin to London is 0.99 EUR. And the flight from London to Rome is 0.99 GBP. Less than a Euro and less than Pound. Have I ever mentioned that Ireland rules? All of this is made possible by the miracle of Ryan Air. For those not in the know, Ryan Air is the godsent of Europe, a Dublin based low cost airline that flies almost everywhere, for as low as 0.99 Euro. Of course, you have to add on top of that all the airlines fees, security fees, and gas tax. But still. It turns out my flight from Dublin to London to Rome and back to London costs, all together, $100 CAD (converted). Its crazy insane. Ryan has just joined my exclusive group of best friends...

8 more Sleeps...