What a week…

From my last update about six days ago in Rome, I’ve been traveling like a madwoman, taking eight hour train rides left and right, getting stuck in the French countryside, nearly having to sleep in train stations, attended a Christmas party in France held by German English teachers, saw Sacre Couer without a crowd, learned the proper way to say Rouen, (it’s nothing like what you think, unless you know French,) braved the French post office to send a Christmas package home, and am currently in Irun, in Spain about five minutes across the border from France.  I can see the ocean and after spending months in these landlocked countries that feels wonderful.

Woo.  Where to begin?  After I left you in Rome, I took twelve hours worth of trains to Paris on Thursdy.  Arriving in Paris at midnight on Thursday night, with no place to stay, resourceful me not only figured out the Metro in the hour before it closed but also managed to find an affordable hostel.  I was leaving the next morning for Rouen and from there to Neufchatel, there to meet up with some friends I met back in Cologne and to get to not have to sleep in a hostel for once.  W00t! I spent the weekend chilling with them in Neufchatel.  On Sunday, we were to go back to Rouen for a Christmas party.  Of course, there was no bus service that day (the trains had been shut down years ago…this town is tiny.)  We had to call and beg one of the German girls in Rouen to come and get us.  Otherwise, hitchhiking it was as party or not I had to get the train back to Paris that night for my 7.15 departure the next morning for Madrid.

Well, we made it to the party.  I understood just about nothing since everyone was speaking French and German, but it was a good time.  We sang German Christmas carols, had a Christmas story in French, drank some spiced wine, and had a cool kind of cultural exerience.  Then it was back to Paris.  Deja vu! Once again I was arriving at midnight with no place to stay.  Not a problem, as I just went back to the hostel I was at before.  And left about five hours later to catch my train to Irun, and then on to Madrid.

Right now, as I said, I’m sitting in Irun waiting for my next train.  This one is only six hours long and I’ll get in at about ten o’clock–dinner time for the Madrileños.  And this time I actually have a hostel to stay at…although that kind of takes all the fun out arriving in a strange city late at night with no idea where to go or how to use the public transportation, dont’cha think?

Hmm.  It’s weird being in a country where I halfway speak the language.  I was able to buy a sandwich at the train station without pointing and grinning sheepishly and even able to ask what it was.  No more fried pork chop sandwiches for me! No, I got a spanish tortilla sandwich tthat wa surprisingly good.  If you don’t know what a spanish tortilla is look it up now.  I make a good one.

Anyway, about time to head back to the train station and get my next train.  I’ll be back with some more excellent adventures sooon, but this keyboard is frustrating.

ciao

Italia

I guess it’s time for another blog post, since I haven’t updated it in five days.  These have been a busy five days, though.  After spending two amazing weeks in Budapest, I didn’t have time to go to Croatia, so I’ll save that for another trip.  No worries.  From what I hear, it’s absolutely dead at this time of year and most things are closed anyways.  So instead, I am doing a whirlwind tour of Italy in six days before staying with friends in France this weekend. Then it’s off to Madrid to meet another friend on Tuesday.  And then we have fifteen days to fly through France, Spain and Portugal before she flies back home and I, I go straight back to Budapest to spend the rest of my time in the city I have a passionate love affair with. 

I got into Venice on Friday morning on the overnight train from Vienna.  Venice is one of those cities that you hear so much about, you don’t really know what to expect–well, you think you know exactly what to expect, but it never turns out ot be right.  In this case, the poor city has a lot to live up to, and unfortunately, it didn’t really manage to live up to anything.  I didn’t like Venice much.  I didn’t hate it, but two days was more than enough.  You can walk through the entire thing in a few hours, and other than a few churches and the Doge’s palace, there isn’t much to do.  The nightlife is absolutely nonexistent.  My second night, a Chilean guy that I’d met and I went to the university quarter where we’d been promised the nightlife was.  A few caffes that served beer were still open, with people quietly sipping at their €6 beers.  There weren’t many, and it wasn’t great.  We each had one beer and gave it up for lost. 

The city itself is shabby, faded splendor.  The canals aren’t dirty, though.  In fact, they were a brilliant shade of blue-green.  Some people say that Venice stinks.  I suppose, if you prefer the scent of exhaust and car fumes over the smell of brine and seawater.  At different times of the year, I’ve heard it’s worse, though and sometimes smells like sewers.  It didn’t while I was there.

I don’t even want to go into how much those two days in the canals cost me.  I didn’t even do anything: I didn’t pay any admission fees, public transportation costs, or go out at night, but the cost of food and my hostel was so high that I didn’t have money for that anyways.  I paid nine euro for a small, bad, take-away pizza one night.  The hostel of course didn’t have a kitchen, so I couldn’t cook for myself.  Not that the supermarket was affordable, but it was better than thirteen dollar pizzas. 

On Sunday morning I went to Florence.  This city was if possible, even worse.  After two days of walking its streets nonstop we came to a sort of peace.  I don’t hate the place, but it’s nothing I would ever go back to again.  There is a small, attractive mediaval section, packed with designer clothing shops, leather stores, Christmas decorations, and tourists, and then surrounding that is the rest of the quite unattractive city.  They even make you pay to go see the statue of David.  The only part of Florence that I really liked was the Christmas market.  You can get everything there, from leather goods to Venetian masks to hats to boxer shorts to watches to fake Louis Vuitton bags, and even better, unlike most Christmas markets I’ve been to, there is lively negotiating going on; it’s crowded with people; and it’s not kitschy. 

And this morning I went to Rome.  This is such a strange place.  It’s smaller than I expected, and not as crowded with Vespas.  But what it is full of are ruins, thousand upon thousands of them.  Everywhere you look there is an excavation site, or maybe just a crumbling Roman watchtower crammed between a billboard for Prada and an apartment building, and it’s absolutely ridiculous.  I went to the Coliseum today.  It was about what I expected.  Quite impressive, but so crowded with tourists even on a drizzly December afternoon that it was difficult to get any good pictures. 

So far, Italy overall, I haven’t even come close to falling in love with.  If I hear ‘caio, bella’ one more time I am going to punch the offender in the head.  The cities are shabby and ugly and would look right at home in Serbia, except that the prices are positively Scandinavian.  The food isn’t my favorite.  I prefer Asian food in Budapest.  Although to be fair I have found Rome very affordable.  My hostel is cheaper than the one in Budapest, and food is not too expensive as long as you stay away from the city center.

Anyhoo, I have to go.  The computer has been tied up for long enough.  I’ll be back soon with another post, hopefully before I go to France.   I have a lot more to say about Italia. 

And Budapest.  Ahhhhh, I miss Budapest like crazy.  Every night I look for cso cso tables, but you know what? The rest of the world is lame.  I think I have found my Mecca and it is in Hungary.  Time to start learning Magyar.

You Can Check Out But You Can Never Leave…

Written over the door of the Carpe Noctem hostel where I just left after two strange, fascinating, and awesome weeks in Budapest.  You know what?  I think it’s true.  I got sucked into the place, somehow.  I made friends there I’ll have for the rest of my life.  I had the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had there.  I seized the night. 

I finally left Budapest yesterday afternoon to a very nearly teary farewell.  After one last farewell shisha it was time to get on the bus (the right one this time) to take me to Keleti train station and rejoin Western Europe as I stepped out of the busy, loud dirty concrete station into the plush newness of the Austrian railways RailJet train, glemaing and still with that new-train smell.  Off to one more night\day in Vienna (one last chance to check out its Christmas Market) before I go to Venice, that dying wreck of opulence. 

I haven’t been back in Austria for twenty-four hours yet and I’ve realized something unexpected: I already miss Budapest like crazy.  I don’t miss it just like another cool place that I wish I could have spent a little more time in, but more like home. I was in the supermarket last night looking for something for dinner and got really disappointed of course at the prices (I hate the euro with a passion now) but when I couldn’t find any Smack, I almost gave it up and hopped on a train straight back to Budapest.  Smack, just so you know, is like Ramen noodles but better.  Mainly because they’re called smack. 

This is what I miss about Budapest: cso-cso (foosball) is the national obsession, and you can’t go into a bar without running into at least three foosball tables.  In my two week residency at the Carpe Noctem, I got pretty good…ok, I stopped being quite so horrible at it.  To watch a group of Hungarians play it is like watching some geek rock Guitar Hero on super expert: you’re impressed, wonder how anyone could get that much skill, but aren’t sure if you yourself are dedicated enough to the noble art to actually devote as much time as they have to it.  Last night I tried a few games of cso cso at the hostel bar, but I won 8-2 every time without even trying, so that got boring quickly.  I miss Ian’s trash talk and Henry’s predictable plays, and Kaitie’s…well, Kaitieness. 

I miss the Hungarians, who stare at as though you are a piece of shit and had you been a fly, they couldn’t even be bothered to swat you, so deep does their loathing and apathy for you go.  I miss how the supermarket cashiers take ages to ring you up, give you incorrect change, and drop your money on the counter, forcing you to chase after rolling coins while her and the person she’s ringing up after you just stare at you like you just walked on their new sofa with muddy boots on.  I don’t know why, but I found that strangely endearing.  I miss how the bartender at the no-name shit bar we used to frequent will occasionally lose the ability to understand the word beer, even when sign language, pointing to the tap, the glass, and waving money are all employed in the quest.  She will also refuse to serve you if there are any Hungarians at the bar, even if they aren’t ordering anything.  She will just chat away to them, giving your imploring face a dirty look every so often.  And don’t you dare try to wave her down; you’ll get one scathing glance and good luck getting any more drinks for the rest of the night. 

I miss the noise and confusion of the streets.  These streets of Vienna are all unnaturally clean and empty.  There is a conspicuous lack of homeless people or street stalls selling everything from piles of used books to scarves and tights to wool jackets and underwear.  The supermarkets are boring–no smack here. 

But it’s not even all of those things.  I miss the people I met.  And, most of all, I miss the city itself with all of its crazy life, architeccture, and spirit.  Someday soon I am coming back to Budapest, and it’s going to be for more than two weeks.  A lot longer than two weeks.  Deciding on the spur of the moment to go there as I did was the best decision I ever made. 

Peace out.  Update from Venice.  Maybe I’ll have stopped feeling so homesick for Budapest by then.

Happy Thanksgiving

Hungry in Hungary? I am.  that’s because we Americans prepared an epic Thanksigiving Feast the likes of which will go down in the history books for the ages.

We’ve had a few setbacks, a few challenges, but with our American perseverance we pulled through to make an absolutely incredible meal.  Pictures forthcoming if I ever find my camera.

Our first setback was the turkey: the classic centerpiece of the meal.  We couldn’t find one small enough to fit in the oven.  Instead, we bought three chickens and what we thought was a ham, but turned out to not be cured, so it was just a big hunk of pork.  It tasted good anyways.

Our second problem was the pumpkin pie and the sweet potatoes.  The Hungarian traditional food is about as far away from your standard Thanksgiving food as you can get.  Pumpkins were nowhere to be found.  We finally hunted them down in a small specialty shop with no name off a dingy side street, but they were $7 a can so we gave up.  At the same place we also found sweet potatoes, so we decided to just get those.  The sweet potatoes were $6 a kilo, so we bought four–we had twenty people signed up for the dinner and more wanting to come.

This is not a large hostel; it’s in a converted apartment on the top floor.  There are three eight bed rooms and another four-five people sleeping in the staff room at any time.  The common room is only the size of a regular living room and the kitchen is a standard apartment kitchen…it’s close quarters.  Cramming twenty people and food into the room was interesting.  The dinner pulled together though, amazingly.  Usually when hostels try to do big group meals there is barely enough to pass around, but in the true spirit of Thankgsigiving gluttony there was heaps of food for everyone.

In fact, we still have some ham and potatoes in the fridge.  Omnomnom.

It was an interesting experience because of the ways that all the cultures came together for this one day: a distinctly American tradition, held in Hungary, with people from all over the world attending.  Guess what?  Pumpkin pie is not even known outside of the US.  I had to google some pictures of it for anyone ot even understand what it was.  Sweet potatoes, also quite uncommon.  We had heaps of trouble finding a ham, and we even sent the Hungarian girl out to get it so there wouldn’t be a language barrier.  The entire food culture is completely opposite the US.

 

It was a great night and I’m glad I stayed in Budapest for it.  I should be leaving here on Monday–Ian, the hostel owner, is putting bets on whether or not I’m actually going to, as this is my eleventh day here, I have no desire to leave, and I’ve actually been working here in exchange for a free room.  People who come in have been asking me if I work here, and I guess I do, now.  Haha.  Last night I ran the pub crawl and we scrubbed the hell out of the kitchen today to get rid of the fruit flies.  I even sleep in the staff room.

On Monday I think I’m going to Venice, then on up to France to meet up with some people I met back in Cologne, Germany, then it’s on to meet my friend in Madrid on the fifteenth.  We’re going to travel around for two weeks through Portugal, Spain, and France, and then she leaves and I’ll have another two weeks in Europe to cry about having to come home.  January 13 approaches at the speed of light, and I’m about as enthusiastic about it as i would be about a nice bout of swine flu.

Buuuuuuudapesht

I’m still in Budapest.  I seem to be stuck here and unable to leave.  It’s an incredible city, with a great atmosphere–affordable, lively, packed full of history and Asian restaurants.  I’ve eaten only asian food in the past three days.  Pad thai, sushi, miso soup and many many noodles.

Once you get used to being in a country that isn’t quite first-world standard, it stops feeling scary and strange and starts feeling quite homelike.  I’m now used to signs that read, “Tilos, az atjaras!”  I have no idea what it means, but you get my point.  It no longer disturbs me that I understand nothing of the language, the culture, or the people.  Instead it feels really normal.  When I spent my four days in Austria after the Czech Republic, I was bored out of my mind.  German is easy peasy lemon squeazy.  And Western Europe–did I mention that it is boring compared to this?

So, Budapest. At the moment I’m not quite sure how long Im going to stay here.  I might stay through Thanksgiving and then move on.  I meet a friend in Spain in about three weeks, so I’ve got three weeks of random solo travel left before I have to discuss plans with other people.   I was supposed to leave yesterday–couldn’t leave.  I was supposed to leave today, but I missed my train.  At this point I might as well give up and just stay until after Thanksgiving.   We’ll see.  My hostel wants to have a big American Thanksgiving, and they want some Americans for authenticity.  Pumpkin pie recipes, anyone?    This is the greatest hostel ever.  There are only a few dorm rooms, so it’s a small, family like atmosphere.  The owners take us out every night to different bars and clubs in Budapest, and during the day we all hang out, go out to eat, do touristy things together, and jsut hang out and watch movies.  It’s such a family like atmopshere, or like all your best friends are staying in an awesome city with you.

Now, I’ve heard recently that some of my family thinks I’m turning into an alcoholic because I always seem to talk about it in my blog.  I’m going to admit it, I drink quite a bit.  But the cultural difference in the attitude that Europeans vs. Americans hold towards drinking is quite astounding.  Americans take this shit seriously.  Europeans don’t care.  You can order a beer or wine with your Big Mac jsut like a soft drink–they don’t see a difference.  Everywhere, you see people walking around the street or in shops with open bottles of beer.  It is regarded the same way as any kind of non-alcoholic beverage is.  Now that is interesting.  But the other thing is that the greatest way to talk to people is to go out for a few drinks at night.  Sometimes, the only way to meet locals is to go out to  a local bar or pub with a few friends from your hostel.  I may not be legal to drink in the US, but in Europe I’ve been able to drink for over a year, in some countries two or three years.  There is jsut an enormous difference in the attitude.  You know, seeing museum after museum, cathedral after cathedral, that is interesting, but that night in Munich when you danced a salsa with an Argentinean, drank a liter of beer and ate an enormous pretzel at the original Hofbrauhaus, and had a durum doner in the kebap shop with the Australian, that’s what gets remembered.  The people are the best part of the trip, hands down.  Call me an alcoholic, but so far I’ve managed to have fun without getting dangerously smashed, and I’ve learned how to drink.  Haha, a lot of my friends back home are clueless about this rather important skill.  The trick is to never accept shots of tequila, don’t try to keep up with the Aussies on the beer sculling front, and don’t ever drink as much as a German.

 

A’ight.

I’m in BUDAPEST

Just wanted to share that because it is bloody well exciting.  I am in Budapest.

OK, technically I am in Pest.  Buda is the city on the other side of the river.  And you pronounce it Pesht, not Pest.  But details, details.

And I am in the greatest hostel ever.  It’s a nest of Aussies and I love Aussies.  I don’t think there is anyone here except for Australians.

And I had the best pad thai in the world for dinner and it cost like $5.  Muahaha.  In a nice restaurant.

And I’m listening to the Ghostbusters theme song.

I knew I had a good feeling about this city.

Also, there is apparently a caving opportunity here–for about fifteen dollars you get an all day guided tour of some sweet caves.  Spelunking here I come!

I spent the entire day on the train, but unfortunately I took the Austrian high speed RailJet to Budapest and didn’t get to take any scary eastern Europe trains.  Damn it.  Next time.  On the first train, there was this little tiny blond boy sitting a seat ahead of me, and he was absolutely fascinated by my dreads.  He kept peeking back and laughing for about two hours. I think his grandmother was embarrassed but I thought it was funny.  I played peekaboo with an Austrian kid on the train.  He was so cute.

The hostel has free computers, so when I actually get a chance to see Budapest (it was dark when I rolled in at 4.45 this afternoon) I’ll tell you all about it.

Later kiddos.

Hai from, well, Vienna again

I stayed two nights in Vienna, a city that I quite liked, and then I spent two nights in Salzburg, a city that I didn’t like so much but it is right in the mountains so that was cool.  Yesterday I went biking up in the Alps.  They are gorgeous.  You just look up and there they are, surrounding the city.  It’s incredible.

Buuuuuuut, you know, Austria has been kind of boring.  I was going to go to Innsbruck today, a little village high in the Alps, perfect if you’re a fan of outdoor adventure sports.  However.  Last night I just kind of changed my mind.  I’ve been hearing all about how great Budapest is for weeks now.  And I’m in the perfect spot to go there.  And I’ve been kind of missing the excitement of the Czech Republic, where everything is totally foreign.  I’ve been in countries that don’t speak English now for so long that German feels quite familiar and comfortable.  I mean, I can count, ask for things, say please and thank you, and ask people if they speak English and tell them that I don’t speak German, all in German.  I’m practically fluent by this point.  A little bit of Hungarian should make things eminently more exciting, I think. 

So this morning I got a train back from Salzburg to Vienna so I could catch a train to Budapest from there.  I was going to make the 11.50 to Budapest, but of course my first train was delayed by an hour and I missed it.  So I have some time until the 13.50 train.  I’m pretty psyched to find out what this train is like.  The trains in the Czech Republic made me feel like we were back in the Soviet era.  I took a few pictures, they were so terrifying.  As a Czech girl told me on the way to Prague, ‘Just like everything in the Czech Republic they’re broken.’  That wasn’t quite fair though.  They run and everything.  We were jsut having issues with the door to the train compartment, on which the latch was installed a good three inches below the other side of it–although that didn’t matter much, as the door wouldn’t, for some strange reason, close all of the way anyways.  So for the entire ride it kept sliding open and it was a freezing day.  But that’s all part of the fun. 

Hmm, so.  I am spending three nights in Budapest and then it’s off to Croatia, I promise!  No more sidetracking.

Ahhhh, I have never heard so much late nineties pop music as I have since I’ve been in Europe.  Old Avril Lavigne is on the radio right now, and last night at and Irish pub in Salzburg, Austria, we listened to N’Sync.  Go figure. 

Alright, I have a scary train to catch so I am off.  Don’t know when I’ll be able to update again but I am really excited about going to Budapest.  I’m going to Hungary!

Wien, wilkommen

I am back in the eurozone, sadly, pouring money away like it’s nothing.  The problem is, these silly people of Vienna have closed every single bloody shop, which is making it quite tricky for me to find ways to spend more money. 

But I of course am resourceful as ever and managed to find the Chrsitmas market, which most certainly was not closed and was more than willing to take my money.  For the cultural experience (is a baked potato an Austrian thing?) I got an enormous, and I mean massive, baked potato with garlic sauce and ham.  Sounds disgusting, tastes delicious.   I want another one but it was 4.50€. 

Vienna is what I always imagined a city should look like.  It’s full of grand buildings, wide streets, glossy and drool-worthy shop windows, parks, statues, squares, history, monuments, etc etc.  The transportation system is terrifyingly fast and can take you anywhere in a few minutes.  The buildings are typically Germanic–stolid, imposing, and impressive as hell.  Actually, I quite feel like I am back in Germany–except that everyone is friendlier and they call the cash machines bankomats instead of geldautomats.  Other than that, the architecture is similar, the people are similar and speak the same language, and the climate is similar.  It’s hard to remember what country I’m in.  I mean, I have enough problems with that as it is.

Tomorrow I go to Salzburg, which is supposed to be a very nice town in Austria.  After that I may go straight to Croatia, or I may hit another town or two in Austria before going.  Or, as I’ve been thinking about lately, I might go to Budapest.

Keep your pants on!!!

I am out in the backwoods of the Czech Republic and it’s a little bit difficult to find a computer all the time.  I left Prague a few days ago, and I suppose I should tell you about that since it’s been awhile since I’ve written. 

Ok.  Prague.  Prague was nothing like I expected but I liked it a lot.  I never did any touristy things, just walked around and stuff.  The hostel owner was awesome.  After getting off work at 12.30 every night he would take everyone out to a different local bar or club, so we got to see the local nightlife instead of jsut the touristy places. 

The old town was gorgeous.  It is like going back in time.  I can’t wait until I’m able to upload some more photos so that everyone can see how pretty it is. 

I climbed to the top of the hill a few times.  During the Communist era, nearly the entire hill was forbidden to the common people; only high-ranking officials and so on could go there.  It’s positively spectacular, and the view down onto the city is impressive. 

On Wednesday I went to Cesky Krumlov, a tiny little medieval town nestled in a valley, surrounded by the S-shaped Vltava river.  It is in South Bohemia, close to the border with Germany.  Talk about living in the past.  There are only about 14,000 people in the entire town and you can walk every street in an hour.  Across the river, on top of a hill, the town os overlooked by a castle, the second-largest palace in the Czech Republic. Standing up in the castle, looking over the town, you could be in the fifteenth century.  It is stunning.  I would give my right arm to live in that castle. 

Speaking of which…..

The hostel I am staying at is way different from what I’m used to.  There are no bunk beds! Real bathrooms! Decorating!  The front door has an awesome dragon carving on it, the floors are hardwood, and the bathroom is all tile mosaics.  And it’s tiny.  And, this being Central Europe, it’s only about $20 a night.  Anyways, the atmosphere is very small and homey.  It’s tiny, there are only two dorms and a few private rooms.  It’s currently being run by two sweet Kiwi girls.  Every Thursday night, they, a few American expats and a few locals all get together and make dinner at the hostel, so I got to go to that.  It was a really neat experience to meet some locals and people who live in the town.  That doesn’t happen often.  You meet a lot of people, but they tend to be other travelers, rather than locals, especially in countries where a language barrier could be a problem. 

One of the girls from Cesky Krumlov gets to live in the palace.  See?  I was going somewhere with that.  Her father is the caretaker, so she gets to live there and see that spectacular view every morning.  Lucky lucky woman. 

I am spending three nights here just because I needed a breather from the big cities and fast paced life.  I’m a bit bored, to be honest, but I think I’ve caught up on my sleep.  And tomorrow, I go to the biggest party hostel in Vienna….I’ve stayed at the Wombats chain in both Berlin and Munich, and they are pretty crazy.  But they’re really great, for a chain hostel, and the staff are all friendly and helpful.  Excellent hostels,a s long as you don’t plan on sleeping. 

After Vienna I might hit Salzberg for a few days and then it is on to Croatia! 

Now be patient, I’m going to be moving around a lot for a while now so I might not have very many/very good updates for a bit.  But I’ll be back.

Photos

I uploaded a few photos onto Flickr today, from Amsterdam, Scotland, and Berlin. Tomorrow I might upload a few more but it takes a long time and I get bored.
Still haven’t done any touristy things in Prague. I’ve walked around and gone out every night, but I’m staying pretty chilled out. I want to be prepared for Croatia, which I am going to at the end of the week (I think.)
Prague is really fantastic. I don’t know what to say about it. I might take a walking tour tomorrow to find out more about the history and culture, but for now I’m enjoying just walking around and seeing all the beautiful buildings and the liveliness of the city. It kind of reminds me of Amsterdam, in a way.
Oh, and we got into the absinthe last night…that is good stuff! It§s not the real absinthe, though, with wormwood in it…at least we didnt have any hallucinations, but it is very strong alcohol. And it is quite tasty. You take a shot and you can feel it all the way down into your fingers. Mmm, Prague.
Anyways, I am spending two more nights in Prague and then heading off for a few days in Česky Krumlov, another city in the Czech Republic. And after that I think Croatia. Im excited.

Ciao