Procida Prison Goal

My final adventure in Napoli was visiting the island of Procida with my friend Cam. Cam and I were keen to explore abandoned areas of the city and Procida was on our list since he arrived at the beginning of April. Why Procida, you may ask? Well, it's got a badass castle perched on the cliff side from the 1500's that was turned into a women's prison in the 1900's - that's why.

We didn't know what state the interior was in or if it was even possible to find a way in but we decided we were going to get in regardless. When we came to the viewpoint, with the bay of Napoli straight ahead and the prison to our left, we turned to our skills learned from Assassins Creed and devised a plan.

Our best bet for entry was to climb over the fence then skirt along a narrow, slanted ledge and hop between a wall and a fence into a small decaying area that was approximately 8 feet x 8 feet. Now, keep in mind, except for a small 3 foot outcropping about 15 feet below us we were about 75 meters straight up from the sea...

Not the time to have a fear of heights!

Once in the little, square midpoint we had to climb along a decaying wall to get over to the other side. After I collapsed part of a wall climbing up and the other half climbing back down I was pretty skeptical about the whole thing. I decided to turn back because I couldn't make it to where Cam had climbed over... I was pretty worried that I would get injured. After about 30 minutes of waiting I skirted along the ledge and climbed back over to the viewing point. Cam had been gone for 45 minutes now and all I thought about was that a little fear stopped me from exploring an abandoned jail; something I've wanted to do for years. And then Cam came from the complete opposite direction that we had entered... He had found a new way in.

We walked through a blatantly open gate, down a long grassy area alongside guard towers, through a small gate and we were in.

 Although I didn't feel like Ezio with this entrance I was finally in the jail without any broken limbs.

We explored through 3 levels of cells that were all in varying degrees of decay. The contrast of standing in a dingy cell, paint peeling off the walls while simultaneously staring out at a beautiful view of the sea and the town of Procida was staggering.

Besides the manual labour, scratchy clothing, isolation and heinously coloured cells I imagine this was an ideal prison with the amount of outdoor areas as well as large windows to such a hopeful view!

Sidenote: This was the approximate time that Cam and I began making a small tomahawk, for protection of course, using a stick, some wire & string as well as a glass shard. Yes. That happened.

After the 3 levels of cells we wandered through some outdoor walkways, in and out of a few small seemingly unimportant rooms and then into what seemed to be a large common area. It had extremely high ceilings, a common theme in all the common areas, and there were chairs and tables scattered throughout.

At the end of one of these adjoining rooms was a chair. Not a basic 'sit down and eat your dinner' chair. More like a 'sit down and allow us to stick you with needles and forcefully pull your teeth out' sort of chair. It had a head holster, ankle clamps and what appeared to be shoulder harnesses and was positioned facing a large window with arguably one of the most beautiful views of a private bay from the jail.

                                                                Funny how that works.

Adjoining to this room, was a room filled entirely with thick, green uniforms - pants, coats, hats and shoes - all strewn about in piles with a single uniform still hanging on the wall.

Adjoining to that was a room full of rusty bed frames. And the back room was filled, almost entirely, with spools of fabric of some kind, cotton maybe.

Now, I couldn't find much information on the history of this jail from internet searches in English or Italian but I can only assume they were a part of some sort of sewing/textile industry. The prisoners way of helping society I suppose... In Ireland they chipped rock for the building of roads as well as made mailbags. Not too sure what Italy's prisons did but this one had something to do with pounds and pounds of cotton.

This common area was also the beginning of our version of "Choose your own adventure". It looked as if we had several floors going up as well as a dark staircase leading down. Cam had already explored the upper areas so clearly sauntering into the abyss was the most logical.

The first level had a few hallways of standard cells. Nothing too unexpected. But it also had an interesting room. *read: nightmarish*. It was extremely long with a bathroom on one end, a half wall in the middle and simple empty space at the far end. We're not too sure what the purpose of it was but we found a few empty shotgun shells at the entrance end. Whether they were remnants from when it was in operation or the leftovers of some Italians shooting around we don't know. But it was sufficiently creepy.

The second level had several halls of cells so we diligently walked down every corridor and in the third corridor we found... Please don't stifle your girlish squeals of excitement... Padded cells!

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I once owned a straightjacket that I thought was wildly entertaining. You may also know that I wished I had the opportunity to bounce around in a padded cell without being properly institutionalized. Who am I kidding, I would consider voluntarily checking myself in just for the chance. Well, looks like I won't have to now! I bounded and giggled to my hearts content in this one and I should be set for at least a few years time.

At the end of this corridor there was also a single room with an awfully suggestive bed. I'll leave you with that...

And the last room on this level appeared to be another common room of sorts with more rusty bed frames and some curious numbers written on the walls in red paint. Again, whether it's from the years of the prison or from Italian explorers, it's hard to say.

Now the third and final level also known as hell. This was the darkest level by far with the least amount of natural light sources as well as the creepiest collection of rooms and leftover marks. We needed a flashlight nearly the whole time and even then we had to stop and shed a few tears before pulling our shit together and wandering down the halls.

The windows here were double barred in the cells and the access to them was double locked. On top of that, more than one door had fingernail scratches on them.

This whole jail had Slender written all over it but this level was particularly terrifying. At the far end of the cells there was an empty room with a hole through the floor towards the back. There was a pipe running from top to bottom and It looked like it went about 15-20 feet down. Cam toyed with the idea of climbing down ... In the end, he didn't. I wasn't arguing that decision.

We then made our way from the bottom level all the way to the rooftop where the view was undeniably beautiful. You could see the fishing village of Procida, the bay of Napoli and Vesuvius as well as being surrounded by the sea.

We also found the records room which had several books of inmate names and dates of incarceration, the oldest we found was 1919. Of course, they were in Italian, so I can't say for sure what all the information was.

After having lunch in a room missing two walls looking over the sea in what seemed to be the oldest part of the prison we ventured back through the prison and made our escape. We walked alongside the guard towers once more before joining society again on the main streets.

Let me tell you, the level of accomplishment we felt was insurmountable. Being able to explore an abandoned prison that we had all to ourselves is a feeling that's hard to put into words. No tourists. No locals. Just us and the remnants of the past in our company. It was a once in a lifetime experience; one I won't soon forget.

So you're going travelling?

Upon telling people I was going to be travelling for a few years there was always similar questions that arise. Answering them became repetitive to the point that I could recite my responses without thinking.

"What about your education?"
"Aren't you scared? There's a lot of fucked up people out there!"
"Doesn't that cost a lot of money? How are you possibly funding this?"

There's more but you get the point.

Anytime someone decides to do something against the societal grain they are almost always met with long confused looks, being told it's not possible, named irresponsible or a combination of all three with a touch of anger. It's inevitable that you will have multiple conversations with closeminded people telling you how to live your life by their standards. But you know what? It's not their life. Not everybody has the same definition of a life well lived so in the end you've got to so what's right for you.

"What about your education?"
Oh you mean that cookie cutter institution I'm supposed to pay for when I'm 18 and haven't got a clue what career I want? That box that puts me in debt where I sit in a classroom learning from studying papers and books all taught by people who most likely learned in the same way? Why simply read about Pol Pots regime in Cambodia when I can go there and explore the history on my own terms? Or how about the troubles in Northern Ireland? What's better than exploring war sites such as the battles of Moscow, Gazala, Brittany or the bulge with your own senses? Walk the grounds that history took place upon, it is much more satisfying than running your hands through that textbook. Travel expands the mind in ways that a classroom just can't do. I'm not saying that furthering your education is a bad thing but don't be that guy that spends their whole life in a classroom because you thought that it was what you were supposed to do. It's not for me, at least not right now.
Don't forget to travel! See the world! Get lost in a strange city! Eat crazy street food! Do whatever your heart beckons.

"Aren't you scared? There's a lot of fucked up people out there!"
If I said I wasn't a little scared I'd be lying but that's half the fun! You can't live your whole life in a bubble of safety, it's just not satisfying. And surprise! There's a lot of fucked up people everywhere! Travelling requires a healthy amount of common sense, the kind that tells you not to get into the candy van but jumping on the back of a strangers Vespa sounds entertaining. It's all about having a balance. The media makes the world out to be a terrifying place sometimes but that's because it makes better news. It doesn't mean I'm going to go waltzing into Iraq right now but being properly informed about the country you're going to is usually all you need to know how to avoid sticky situations there.
Fear is something to be faced not something to curl into the fetal position vowing never to leave your house over. Taking yourself out of your comfort zone will open an endless amount of possibilities, strange circumstances, meeting amazing people and finding yourself curious about the world around you. You've just got to cut away.

"Doesn't that cost a lot of money? How are you possibly funding this?"
Yes and no. My biggest expense in transportation. Flights, buses, trains, carpooling, etc... Once I get to my destination I use the wonderful world of workaway to live in the culture allowing me to save money and prolong my travelling. Travel doesn't have to be expensive if you travel smart. Make communal meals in hostels to cut costs, learn how to navigate around for cheaper flights and trains, utilize sites like workaway and helpx that allow you to live and work with people around the world in exchange for meals and a bed. It takes practice but eventually you learn to budget your everyday activities. You also learn to enjoy repetitive meals of stirfry because it was cheap and saved you $5.
As far as funding, I made travel my priority. The 6 months of skydiving was sort of a lull in saving for me because I fell in love with the sport but that's another story. If you make something your priority and invest a bulk of your time and money into it you will be surprised at how easy it is to achieve your goal.

There's also positive feedback when talking about travel. Talking to people about this trip was met with feedback as mentioned above but also curiousity and inspiration. Many people said I was doing the right thing, not that I needed validation, but it's good to talk to people who have that open mindset. I've received many messages since being gone from people saying they wish they would have done this when they were my age, talking about the flawed education system and that I'm brave to throw myself into the world. In traveling and being willing to share my experiences I've inadvertently inspired my Mom to take a chance and follow her dream of traveling to Ireland. She's always wanted to go but has always put something else first, now she's headed to her dream destination and is going there with no set plans. She is going head first into travel and I'm sure it will reward her with ups and downs but in the end it will be unforgettable and perception changing; as travel always is.

So why do I travel? I suppose I've never been the person to conform to societies desires. I have always wanted more out of life than what was fed to me throughout my 12 years in the education system. I always asked why I had to follow others expectations and realities of what life was supposed to be. After high school I didn't know what to do with my life even though I always thought I would. I was in a bit of a slump and a great mentor told me that I should go travelling. In that moment, it made perfect sense. Within 4 months I'd saved $4300, bought my ticket and was headed to Europe. Those 6 months changed me. My perspective on life took a 180 and I allowed the magic of travel to form my experiences. It altered my perception of the world, for the better, and is a trip that I wouldn't change. Now, 3 years later, I'm travelling again. This trip is a big one! But it is again something that just made sense. I'm tearing away the societal constraints from my soul and opening my mind to everything that travel has to offer.

If you've ever though of travelling, make it a priority and do it! It will never be the wrong answer. 

Napoli's Underbelly

Napoli is full of strange sights, smells, sounds and people. Walking through the streets you are greeted by street food around every corner, Neapolitan children playing football in the streets, shop owners smoking at their doorsteps - curiously looking upon you. And vespas, everywhere. Everything from 14 year old boys and girls, single Italian men whistling as they fly by, families of 3-5 making their way around the city or people transporting various items. (Most impressive so far - a 40" flat screen... incredible)

But looking into Napoli's relationship with their past inhabitants is potentially the most fascinating thing for me in this city. Nearly every street has little window nooks with lights, pictures of the Virgin Mary and good ol' Jesus Christ paired with a photo of a loved brother, sister, mother, father, uncle, cousin, friend... anyone. They are a unique way for someone travelling to have a peek into the personal lives of the people that call this city home. Not to mention the various catacombs located through out the city. Ranging in sizes from huge caves to small churches beneath a large, baroque upper face. As well as Ancient Greek aqueducts, amphitheatres and markets turned into shelters during times of war.

This is my little list of the various places I've visited, many of which I was able to stare mortality directly in its hollow eyes and delve into the spiritual world of the dead in Napoli.

Napoli Sotteraenea! Three years ago, upon arrival in Napoli for the first time, this was the first sight I saw! I had no clue that any of this even existed in the city so it blew my goddamn mind. Even today, it's just as impressive. It's vastness is indescribable, it's hard to know just how far you've gone through the tunnels, winding round and opening up into quiet cisterns.

It's got a trifecta of history. Firstly, these quarries were built to extract the tuff (volcanic rock) to build the city above ground, as well to access the water running beneath, over 2500 years ago. Tufa is easy to work with and is also quite strong so it was an ideal building material. Being the smart people the Greeks were they built these quarries in bottle shapes to prevent cave ins. Then, between 1588 and 1615 and under Roman rule, these quarries were carved into aqueducts to access the geothermal cavity that runs from Vesuvius through Pompei and past Napoli. These aqueducts were paired with cisterns to provide drinking water to the people along the route mentioned above.  This continued until 1885 when a catastrophic cholera outbreak saw this water source compromised and subsequently abandoned. Walking through these aqueducts, you can run your hands across the pick marks made by the people that carved these thousands of years ago. Feelin' history baby! Some of the passages are quite narrow so you are provided with a candle and to a certain point you may not be able to fi through these points if you've had a few too many canoli's!

These underground caves and aqueducts were virtually unused until World War 2 when they became refuge for many of the city's people. Napoli was the most bombed city during the war so I imagine having these shelters proved to be a god send to the people. There are names and dates carved into the walls from these times as well as beds and children's toys left there after the war.

Leaving the aqueducts, you run your hands across history one last time as you climb from the depths of 40 meters and walk back into today's civilization.

This next one doesn't really flow into any morbid past. Just a friendly, 4th generation hospital dedicated to fixing your favourite childhood doll.

Starting in late 1800's, the great-great-grandfather of the woman owning it now started it out of happenstance when a women came into his shop begging for a doll to be fixed. In the same location, it's a small room tucked away off a busy street up a narrow set of steps, but what's inside is pretty unique! If you've ever felt like something was staring at you before be prepared to feel a slight paranoia in this place.

Dolls are everywhere! In makeshift beds, in little shelves on the wall, heads hanging from above you, legs and hands strung up for easy picking.

Little drawers filled with all sizes of eyes and wigs bundled up in corners.

I paced around this little room 6 or 7 times, each time finding a new bizarre item to gaze at. Truly unique, it's a neat little stop to get out of the busy streets.

Now, into the underbelly of Napoli we go, starting with two catacombs. The Catacombe di San Gennaro and the Catacombe di San Gaudioso. Both of these catacombs were once outside the city walls but as the city expanded they became a part of the city itself and all the remains were moved outside the new city borders to Fontanelle Cimitero.

San Gennaro is home to approximately 2000 graves dating back to the 2nd or 3rd century. 2000 graves doesn't mean 2000 people though, many graves had 2,3 or etttven 4 buried together.

There are three grave styles throughout the catacombs. In the ground, in the walls or in a tomb, all of which the Italian translation escapes my memory. Sorry! The catacombs span two levels and several rooms to compose a haunting atmosphere.

The basic ones were in the ground, obviously, with the ones in the walls costing slightly more and the tombs being only for people who could afford a proper burial. Even then, they were stacked amongst one another. These graves were of the Christian variety used until the Middle Ages. During the 15th century these catacombs were also used for victims of the plague.

Throughout the catacombs there were many frescoes and mosaics along the walls, as well as relics belonging to San Gennaro. These relics have long since been in a national museum but the frescoes remain; depicting stories of the saints with the Virgin Mary. Many of these frescoes are severely damaged but in several tombs there are grapevines visible; a symbol of Jesus. Perhaps the most important fresco is that of San Gennaro himself, still in fairly good shape, it is a highly preserved item of the catacombe.

Catacombe di San Gaudioso is slightly smaller but I personally think the history is more compelling, perhaps because our tour guide could speak English so I could understand the history. The entrance to the catacomb is in the back of the church and it leads you directly into a room of tombs and graves.

Among the first things you see is a fresco of Jesus bearing a halo, surrounded by a circle. On the 4 corners surrounding him there are 4 smaller frescoes of a lion, a bull, an eagle and the face of a man representing the 4 gospels - with a circle surrounding them. And surrounding this whole religious cluster was a square. Making this a very holy fresco combo. A combination that was the layout for the present day church: a circle with a square and then an octagon (being the upper domes). One large dome as well as 12 circle-squares representing Jesus and the 12 disciples.

Anyway.

In the catacomb, the first room we entered had the tombs used to drain the blood and bodily fluids from the deceased. Allow me to paint you a picture. They would be lowered from the church floor and placed in a small tomb, sitting up with their heads placed in a notched cradle because they were the most important to keep preserved, their bodies would then be pierced so the blood and bodily fluids could drain into a basin. It's not yet known how long this process took.

 By the way, the people doing the stabbing, draining and I assume skin removal lived in the cemetery carrying out this duty until they died. They did not get this glamorous burial though, they were places in shared graves on the ground. Nice trade eh?

 Once drained, their bones were placed in a wall along a hall leading to a marble statue of Jesus at one end and a monster on the other (literally). The only thing emerged from the wall was their faces, the rest of the skeletal system was laid flush. Today, only the skulls remain as the faces deteriorated over time and you can run your hands over the bones from centuries ago. This burial was only given to saints, those that could afford it or those who traded services with the church. As an example, architects and painters of the church.

Then we entered the hallway. On one end, Jesus lay for people to pray as this was once a typical church. On the other, was a monstrous skeleton, a mash up of miscellaneous bones. It's legs and arms were short and it's spine long; it too had a face at one time... I can only imagine what it looked like.

This was placed as a guard of the bodies laid to rest in the corridor. They believed it would ward off harm to the souls here and protect the area from damning people, alive or dead.

Along the halls there were about a dozen of these standing skeletons on either side, women on the right and men on the left. Amongst these remains was 1 saint. As well as many entry ways into tombs to your left and right.

It was fascinating to be able to place your hands on the walls and feel the ridges of the rib cages and the bases of the skulls remaining. It's certainly a distinctive texture, one I won't soon forget.

Last on my tour of offbeat places, for now at least, is the Fontanelle Cimitero and the church of purgatory. These two places are by far my favourite stops on this list.

Imagine a place where all the remains from the cemeteries of the city got sent when the city walls expanded. Then add in a plague, cholera and a flood - just for shits and giggles. Fontanelle is where 40,000 dead are laid to rest in a very peculiar way and the history is just as strange. It begins in 1656. The ossuaries were dug out to extract the tufa (starting to notice a pattern?) and then they were used as a cemetery.

This being the time of the great plague, many were laid here to rest. Also, legend states that Undertakers would say they were transporting loved ones bodies to the churches and would actually dump the bodies in these quarries.  So when a flood occurred during the 1700's and all these remains flooded the streets, creating quite the spectacle, the Commune of Napoli decided to arrange them in the caves as a paupers grave. And then in 1837 when cholera ravaged the city, Fontanelle was again the final resting spot. 1837 was the last depository in this cemetery.

Things were relatively normal in this gigantic cemetery until 1872 when a sort of cult formed around the skulls laid out here. People began adopting skulls. Yes. You read that right. They would clean the skull and make it a small home, be it marble or wood, they are all one of a kind.

Some would name it as well; claiming that the spirit came to them in their dreams. Then they would bring it small tokens, photos of loved ones they've lost, flowers, blessing, etc... They would care for this anonymous soul in exchange for protection and favours.

 This continued for nearly 100 years until Cardinal Ursi of Napoli closed the cemetery, declaring that this cult following had turned into a fetish. And it remained closed until 2006 when restoration projects began.

A small church has been added for select ceremonies throughout the year and as you walk the cemetery there are many coins, photos and rosaries lovingly placed on these beloved adopted skulls. Although it's not a cult following anymore, it's still heavily believed in here. It's quite insane to think that as you're walking through this 30,000m3 cavern that there are 4meters of anonymous dead under you soles at any given time. Think about that for a minute.

Perhaps my favourite story of the skulls is the one called Ma'am. Other skulls are always covered in dust but this one is always polished in its case. Devotees say that it represents the sweat of the souls in purgatory. What do you think?


Lastly, we have the church of purgatory. Now, I didn't get a whole lot of info from the tour being that  it was strictly in Italian... But thanks to two others on the tour I got the information I needed to know.

And no pictures are allowed in the church, so google if you'd like or just use your imagination.

These two others were a priest and a bishop from the Vatican. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke right? A priest, a bishop and an agnostic walk into the church of purgatory... I'll tell you how it goes at the end...

This church is special because it is completely devoted to the souls in purgatory. The upper level is covered in skulls and the main artwork at the chapel point is actually souls being pulled up out of the inferno by a saint on a cloud held up by angels. I'm not shitting you! Then the museum behind the chapel is full of garments worn by priests, bishops and other holy men for funeral processions. In glass cases there are many artifacts from the 18th century embellished in small skulls. Everything about this place is devoted to the dead!

Then you go to the basement and it's a whole different level. The worship and adoption of skulls took place here much like Fontanelle. The difference being that it never really stopped here. Even as I was touring the basement people were coming and praying to the skulls.

The basement is like a replica of the church upstairs except the walls are bare, save for candles to guide you, and the floors are dirt. This was the purgatory that the souls lived in. In the centre, a crypt remains closed. This is where remains were put that could not afford a burial. Towards the front of the church is a large black cross dominating the room. It's said that children would be allowed down to the basement to pick a special bone for the family to worship. Because they are pure and innocent, they would pick just the right bone to add to their skulls niche.

As you walk along the corridor to the back room there are small niches with skulls and offerings, along with pictures that loved ones have places amongst the bones. And then you're in the back room, probably the most sacred. On one end there are 12 personalized niches for skulls and directly underneath this is a bone depository, only accessible from this level. As you walk down to the other side there are 12 graves, 6 on either side, for the members and benefactors of the confederation. All humped with soil and strewn with flowers. Finally to your right, is the beloved Lucia; dawning a tiara and veil.. She is placed upon a cushion and surrounded by a mountain of offerings. She is the protector of young brides. Mothers bring daughters here to give offerings to her so that they are healthy brides before marriage. It's clear that she is very well taken care of here.

So, the end of the joke?
The priest and bishop inquire about my curiosity of the spiritual world; asking if I'm Catholic. I said "No, I'm not. I'm not sure what to believe in. I've always been a see to believe sort of person so simply having faith isn't something that's easy for me."
The priest looked at me and said "It's okay not to know what to believe in but don't spend your whole life not knowing..." And smiled at me.
He then shook my hand and said "God bless you."

Hopefully that wasn't too dull for anybody...
1. It's a lot of information to read
2. I may not have put it together in the most fluent way
3. I'm really hoping I got all the facts straight
4. It's 2:30 AM and it's been a wine night. Am I right

Ciao for now!!
I'll be posting about Napoli and it's brutal hold on my soul in the next week or so. Just waiting for inspiration to punch me in the face.

Iceland Video!

Finally! My Iceland video! After over a week of glaring at my ipad, drinking profusely trying to sort out the clips and subsequently crying myself to sleep. It's done! Turns out I picked the wrong song anyway, so enjoy 7 minutes of Iceland scenery and clips of the people I endured the cold with, paired with music that doesn't go with any of it :)

I try to see how I feel at the end of a video to see how I think others might perceive it... This one left me smiling but very conflicted due to the above situation. So enjoy! I hope it leaves you with the same feelings as me ;) 

Pretravel Movie!!!

My pre travel movie. Two weeks of seeing friends & family, enjoying good company and generally having and amazing time. Thanks to everyone back home, on the video or not (I wasn't the best at bringing it out), for being supportive and inspiring during my three years back home. Now the world is my playground for 3 years! I feel blessed and grateful to have the amount of amazing people that I do in my life.
Much love to everyone back home in Canadia!! Miss all of you and our shenanigans together!

Iceland is Scary!

I arrived in Iceland early Saturday morning and headed into Reykjavik to explore the city. My bus to Stykkisholmur wasn't until 17:00 that evening so I was stuck with my pack all day as well. First thing I noticed about Reykjavik, was the insane amount of tourists. All I saw for the first 4 hours was people with cameras and backpacks; the tourism industry seems to be getting a nice boost with these cheap flights!  I stopped in a few cafes and enjoyed some traditional Icelandic moss tea, which is delicious in case you're wondering... Then I made my way to the bus stop across the city to head northwest. 

Fast forward 3 hours and I'm in Stykkisholmur! A small town of around 1000 people, none of which were out to point me towards a hostel. In fact, I had no idea if there even was a hostel in this town. I was fully prepared to start pushing shed doors open to find a place to sleep. And although I was really looking forward to getting hypothermia, I found a hostel on the harbour! There was 2 others waiting inside to book a room and we hit it off. A French girl, Charlotte, and an American guy, Ben, that had rented a car from Reykjavik and headed for a roadtrip! They fed me because I also had nothing to eat but some crackers and we talked until 1. In all this talking they agreed to drive me up west to a couchsurfers I was supposed to stay with!

And the roadtrip begins! We left at 11 and stopped for gas. Sidenote: gas prices here are insane! It's 249 ISK to the litre, which works out to about $2.46 Canadian. I damn near choked on my crackers. Anyway, we drove through the winding fjords all day, stopping whenever we felt like it to take pictures. The fjords are beautiful.

So raw and powerful. Each fjord was unique in the way it cut the water and rose up. Winding roads, blue skies and blinding snowstorms. They've got it all at once. We were driving along at one point and the weather was flawless. And then you just see this wall of snow and when you hit it you were basically punched in the face ... Seriously, uppercut to the jaw and then headbutt to the teeth, left to bleed out on the side of the road. Until 30 seconds later you open your eyes and it's blue skies again. Iceland has the weather of a bipolar schizophrenic.

Mental disorders aside, the blatant raw beauty of Iceland's Westfjords is a spectacle that needs to be seen. So after being repeatedly punched in the face and almost running out of gas we were enroute to a couchsurfers house to drop Charlotte off.

He was kind enough to invite us in for coffee and conversation before we headed off. We arrived back in Reykjavik just before midnight, just in time to find a hostel! Although sleep wasn't on our schedule. We were on the hunt for some grossly overpriced beer to cap the night off. Alcohol in Iceland is taxed very high, similar to the other nordic countries. It's usually about 900 ISK for a beer (same size as a bottle in a Canadian bar) which equates to roughly $8.85 Canadian. Happy hour here is the same as simply going to the bar back home. We met up with Mariusz, a Polish guy from the hostel, grabbed a beer and chatted. We went to the harbour to try and find the northern lights but with no luck. On our way back to the hostel we saw two folks standing outside their hotel and decided in our little stupor that we were going to start a conversation. It worked out surprisingly well as they invited us inside the lobby to drink! A Scottish fellow, Ian, and a New Yorker, insert name here. We stayed until 5AM drinking terrible beer; enjoying brilliant company. Ian thanked us for reminding him of his youth and insert name here belligerently talked about Amuricah and subliminally whispered Edmonton Skydive into the discussion.

The following day Ben, Mariusz and I drove Southeast past the infamous Blue Lagoon, to the Ocean, made a quick stop at a waterfall and then to Eyjafjallajökull (the volcano that erupted about 3 years ago).

We went ghetto for lunch and bought some cream cheese and flatbread to snack on... Mariousz was our server from the backseat and prepared them with Ben's defunkt credit card. We then froze our respective asses off waiting for the Northern Lights to appear. Obviously, being in Canada, I've seen them before but they were spectacular regardless and quite fun to photograph. Also, being with people who have never seen them was the best part of it all.

After we couldn't feel our hands we started on the drive back to Reykjavik. We made pesto and had wine to end the day, all for free thanks to Downtown Hostel, and went out for one more look for the Northern Lights. They weren't there... All we got was crushed hopes and numb faces. We called it a night with one more beer at the hostel.

Mariusz left us the next day. He ate his oatmeal alone, drinking his tears and milk because neither Ben or I had the decency to join him. We spent the day wandering around Reyjavik, drinking moss tea, eating lamb pete/meat soup, a Bill Clinton hotdog and hitting up a geothermal pool. Which was brilliant but confusing. Your body is insanely warm, but because they're outside, your face is insanely cold. But the water is wonderfully blue! After the relaxing hour in the warmth we followed our livers advice and searched for a happy hour. After some searching, we found The Dubliner. Amazing place! We stayed for 4 hours chatting with the bartender, Thor, and two regulars. The Bartender and I generally spoke about how much working for the man is a load of crap, some Icelandic economics and skydiving. Which is always a welcoming conversation to me :) At lockout we got a free beer and ran into a group of other travellers who were blindly drunk so we were instantly BFFs. We walked around looking for another bar open but had absolutely no luck. After exchanging information, we were on our way, but not before running into some Germans and giving them a slightly intoxicating tour of Reyjavik. Which may or may not have included letting ourselves onto a large boat on the harbour. We called it a night shortly after 4AM and Where I laid in bed for about 5 minutes before getting up, packing my bag and heading to the bus station for my flight. I donated my winter coat there because, well, Italy. Simple as that.

The bus ride consisted of me smiling a lot, random naps and remembering the amazing way that travelling opens you up to endless opportunity. I wasn't going to write everything out in so much detail but I wanted to illustrate how travelling somewhere with almost no plans can evolve into a great experience. My plans fell through on day two but due to the spontaneity and kindness of other travellers and Icelandics my 4 days were packed with amazing company and experiences. The Icelandic people are all extremely warm hearted and are a prime example of generosity of the human spirit. They were all willing to open their doors and hearts to travellers that needed a hand. So for those of you thinking that travel is scary? Don't. Things won't always go your way but learning to roll with what does land at your feet with make for a great experience regardless of what your expectations may or may not have been.

Oh! I amost forgot... bring gloves.