Ryan Runs Europe

2 years later...

2011-07-11T22:26:00.003+02:00

34 Kilometers.
I woke up in the late morning today, eyes still a bit blurry for a long night of work on the computer. With rain pattering on my window I prepared myself in the old familiar way: short shorts with a debit card in the back pocket, worn out Adrenalines on the feet, and a t-shirt with a cherished line cutting through a map of Europe. "Yeah, this is about to happen," I thought for a moment before taking the first step into the rain. I've yet to become completely accustomed to the Swiss landscape, and my legs felt a bit like rubber as I powered up the Uetliberg on the southwest side of Zurich. As thunder rolled above me, I briefly pondered the likelihood of my getting struck by lightning. It was going to be a long run to Zug, but I smiled as I recalled being in this same place almost exactly two years earlier. "Bring it on."
I guess there's some catching up to be done, so I'll try to make it quick. To pick up where we left off, I was at my dad's ranch until about this time last year, where I worked, ran and drank as much as one should when living in the country, all with the company of my good friend Jake. During this time, I also grew a ridiculous moustache. In mid July, we packed up all my things from the west coast, and took a very slow road trip back across the country, where I began to get settled into my place in Princeton, NJ. The remainder of the summer was spent doing an excellent combination of renovating, unpacking, and running like a maniac. School started in September, and all in all it has been just about what I expected: a very small but well-rounded class (only 13 of us!), long hours in the studio and a good amount of juggling priorities. The first month was especially hard, as I made my best attempt to stay well rested while intensely doing studio work and getting in the last month of preparatory training for my first "official" marathon.
In October (10-10-10!) I raced Chicago, and with much credit due to my friend and fantastic coach Jon Clemens, everything came together surprisingly well. I crossed the line in 2:25:44 to come in 44th overall and really couldn't be more happy with the way it went. After the short weekend trip, I was back to school for more crazy projects, and of course, more running.
The winter in NJ was a rough one, as snow kept me entirely on pavement for about 4 months...but I had some good breaks, including a trip to the ranch for Christmas, a week without electricity in an island in the San Juan's and a half-marathon PR in Carlsbad, California. Somewhere along the line I also managed to meet my long-time goal of running sub-15 minutes in the 5k (Photo Above)...and grew an even more ridiculous moustache (now gone, again).
My school work has been engaging, and I've been really free to play around with the things I love, integrating more electronics hacking and computer science into my "architecture" projects. Towards the end of the spring, I got in contact with the research group of Gramazio & Kohler at the ETH in Zurich (I had visited them on my run!), and through a scholarship provided by the ThinkSwiss program gained the possibility of going to Switzerland for summer research.
With my first year of graduate school under my belt, I can now say quite happily that I'm living in Zurich for the summer and enjoying every minute of it. Apart from being so expensive, this place is really a dream: mountain trails in every direction, lakes and rivers for swimming, and all that a good city has to offer. My job is also incredibly rad: I'm working with a big robotic arm that can drive around and lay bricks, programming it to follow my hand and build walls where I indicate (and that's only the start of it!).
Anyways, that's about it in summary. It's getting late here, so I think I'm going to hit the hay. I had a bit of nostalgia today running to Zug and swimming at the same dock on the same lake I ran to two years ago. My trip has defined so much for me, and it seemed so strange to just step out the door and relive a section of it.
I hope the last year has treated you well as well, and look forward to more updates soon...I'm back in Europe!

One Year Update

2010-05-31T09:10:00.001+02:00

Crossing the Hudson, NYC-Princeton Run, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

It's been over a year since I arrived in Europe with a big grin and a pair of running shoes...but that day, and the 133 that followed, still seem so recent. Every day, I'm reminded of the experiences I had out on the road: I can hardly get through a conversation without some anecdote coming to mind...of a place I visited, of something I learned, of a lifestyle I was exposed to, or of a person I met. I hope my mind will always remember these things, just as my muscles remember every time I lace up my shoes and head out for a run. I think the reminders will always be there...although some will surely (and in some cases, hopefully) fade away: so far though, I just can't seem to lose this backpack tan. Ridiculous as it seems, it has been there constantly since my trip, even though I've only very recently been on another run with my backpack.

One of the many things I have missed is this blog, so I thought I'd come back and give a long overdue update on how things have been going since I returned to my "normal" life in the US of A...here's the compressed version:

I spent some time with my family on the west coast, and shortly afterwards caught a plane back to New York City. Once there, I took a job working for an artist to pay the rent while I worked on my graduate school applications. I found an apartment and moved my things out of storage (finally, a larger wardrobe!) and got back to basics (or back to the grind, depending on how you see it). I kept up running around 70-80 miles a week, despite living in one of the worst places for running ever (New York is great...Bushwick, Brooklyn sucks). I at least had a massive supply of chocolate milk powder always waiting for me...

The combination of relatively "bad" runs (I did get out and go on some good ones a couple times a week...with people!) and living in a room with no windows/sound insulation turned me bored and halfway nocturnal for a while...but after some months, things started falling into place and the change did me some good. I was accepted to Princeton's architecture program, and will be spending the next three years working to gain my Master's there. To celebrate the change, and to make the physical transition from one school to the other, I went on a three-day, 75-mile run from Columbia in Manhattan to Princeton, New Jersey with the same trusty setup I used when I was in Europe (hence the backpack tan re-boost). I also recently ran a PR in the New Jersey half marathon on a very hot day...and as a result, am now in the very elementary stages of training for the Chicago Marathon in October...my first "real" marathon. These exciting bits of news happened so recently and close together, that writing them so briefly doesn't really seem out of place...I just saved you the relative feelings I went through by not typing a thousand lines of ellipses at the beginning of this paragraph...

Two weeks ago, I suddenly moved all my things back into storage and took a greyhound bus to Pittsburgh. I met my oldest brother there and together we hit the road in the '68 Corvette that my dad bought back when it was new. I got a flat top haircut and made my first weak attempt at a mustache so that we'd look era-appropriate as we drove west along "Route 66." It was a great trip, and despite some engine troubles, we made it to California in about a week...driving about the same distance I covered on foot last year.

Now I'm with my dad again, hanging out and working at the ranch...in the same place I was the last time I made a post to this blog. I'm back to running on mountain roads, enjoying the fresh air and gasping for it at this high altitude. Two days ago I got caught in a hail storm during my run and had a pretty painful uncovered four and a half miles getting back home. The weather looks like it's starting to clear up though, and I'm looking forward to a good month or so here before I head east again in July.

As to the future of this blog, I must admit that I've had many thoughts of a revival...but I don't know if or when exactly that could happen. I do keep finding myself on Google maps, examining what lies between Amsterdam and St. Petersburg...

I hope you've been doing well, and until next time...happy running!

Thank You

2009-10-07T10:48:00.002+02:00

Thank You, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

Before I left for Europe, I had spent years dreaming and months planning a trip such as this. Back then, it was just a dream...but a dream that I wanted to try to fulfill. Throughout the whole thing, even up until the very end, I never completely believed that I could do it. I halfway expected something to go wrong just about every day. Athens was always so far away, and the odds just didn't seem to be in my favor. Somehow though, I would just look at each day like its own adventure and it would pass on by. Getting to Athens was the goal, but not really the goal. The goal was to live each day for itself, and to get the most out of each place I saw. Somehow though, each day passed by, and after 130 of them, I found myself at the finish line of my big dream.
I guess that now I can say "I did it." Though to be honest, that wouldn't be a fair statement. "We did it" would be much more fitting. I could never have completed this crazy voyage without you. I didn't really do anything much, I just ran and smiled and fell freely into a world that gave me much more support than I could have ever expected. People encouraged me. They read my words. They wrote me comments and emails that I read on lonely street corners while bumming unlocked wi-fi. They searched for places I could stay. They donated. They gave me food. They gave me care. They gave me culture. They gave me friendship. They gave me advice. They took me into their homes and gave me a place to sleep. These things surprised and baffled me, and for them I am inexpressibly grateful.
When I left for the trip, I had expected to sleep outside on a regular basis...at least a few days a week. I had expected to get worn down and broken by a lifestyle of sleeping on park benches and going for days without having a shower. I had only a handful of places figured out in advance, but in the first 80 days of my trip I didn't sleep out in the open once (OK...once in the Blackforest, but there wasn't really anyone to ask). I was constantly amazed by the hospitality that I found, and by the people who opened their doors to help out a complete stranger. In a world where the news is overrun by violence and crime and people are taught to fear the vices of humanity, I discovered so much kindness, friendship and hospitality. I would meet a person on the street, and an hour later I would be in their home...often feeling like we had known each other for years. I have taken so much from these people, and from the world on this trip. I hope that I can give a fraction of it back in some way, and that I can inspire some others to recognize that there still is magic and good in the world if you look for it.
So to those that helped me along my way, to my friends and family, to the readers and followers of this blog, to the people who spoke to me when I was alone in a foreign place, to the people who offered me a bite to eat, to those who wrote me comments and messages, to those who donated, to those who opened up their hearts and homes and gave me a place to rest my weary head, to those who gave me a shower and a place to wash my clothes, to those who showed me their culture and their humanity, and to God:
Thank you. We did it.

Days 132-

2009-10-07T09:48:00.001+02:00

Tired, Coming home, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

Whatever it is, I'm measuring it in miles from here on out!
The past few days have been very busy, just as the past few months have been and I'm sure the next few months will be...but all in very different ways.
In the very early morning, Vicky drove me to the Athens airport and I checked in for my long flight. According to the person running the check-in counter, I was the only person on the flight without checked baggage. Strange considering that I was coming home from over four months of traveling. It was just me and the same twenty dollar blue backpack that has been with me through so many crazy days and nights.
The whole flight home thing was a very last minute arrangement. Throughout the middle, and up until the last several days of my journey, I had always wanted to try to find a ship back to the United States. I figured that I should take the slow way across water, as I had taken a pretty slow way across land and gained a lot from it. As I got near to Athens however, I got wind that my brother was planning to visit my dad with a few mutual friends in the coming weekend, so I started daydreaming about a sudden reunion. I talked with my mom and my friend Alex from school, and we worked out my ticket back to Seattle, and his ticket there from the east coast as well. I would fly into Seattle, meet him, my mom and sister at the airport, spend the night in Olympia (Washington, not Greece!) and then drive down to my dad's ranch in northern California the next morning...where I would surprise him with my arrival, and my brother and some more friends would meet me soon after. It all seemed a little bit impossible...seeing much of my family and friends halfway across the world in a matter of days, and at such short notice. It seemed almost too crazy to try, and while I'm sure I could have spent a little more time in Greece and making my way home, I was starting to get a little bit tired. I missed a lot of things back home. Some things that are obvious, some that I wouldn't have ever thought of before leaving. I wanted a real American breakfast, a burrito, to run without a backpack, to eat ethnic food, to go up to a stranger and know that they could speak my language, to wear deodorant and an outfit that didn't consist of the same two t-shirts and two pairs of shorts that I have been wearing for 132 days, to make something with my hands, to work in Rhino/CS/CAD/Processing, and to see a face or a stretch of road that I had seen before. These things were waiting for me in my home, the United States of America...and that is where I was going.
A stop in Madrid, and a stop in Chicago. 21 hours of travel time, and amazingly everything went according to plan. In one day I traveled several times the distance that I had traveled in over four months. I met my mom, sister and college roommate at the airport, and about 24 hours later I knocked on my dad's door. He sure was surprised to see me: it wasn't long before that he had heard about my arrival in Athens. My brother came in the next morning, and the past few days have been spent living the life in small town America. Waking up early, eating a good breakfast, shooting guns, riding horses, drinking, arguing and laughing. I've gotten a couple easy runs in as well. It feels a little strange to be back home...but not as strange as I had expected. It seems like I've been here forever...but every time I take off my shirt and see that ridiculous backpack tan line, I'm reminded that I just got back from one very long adventure.
So, what are the plans for the future? Well, I'd like to say I've got it all covered, but really I've only got the vague outlines at the moment. Kind of like having an itinerary of European towns but nowhere to stay. I'll go back to Washington for a few days and visit with friends, and then I'll make my way back to the east coast. All of my stuff is in a storage container in downtown Manhattan. I've got to go there and very quickly find some sort of job that will give me enough money to pay the rent in a cheap room (that I have yet to find) while I finish my architecture portfolio and do all of the work for my applications for graduate schools in architecture. Those are due in December, and after that I'll be looking for a more committed job in what will hopefully be an insane design firm. If everything goes right, I'll be going back to school next September. Three more years of that, and then...well...something else more exciting.
I expect to keep running, and I'd like to eventually train for a real marathon and get back on the track. For now I'm happy to think that I'll at least be running with other people once again.
Wherever I go though, I've got a lot of new friends and experiences to help me on my way. I'll try keep in touch here and post an update from time to time with somewhat relevant changes.

Day 131

2009-10-04T16:32:00.002+02:00

Parthenon, Day 131, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

1 Kilometer.
(I stopped counting at the Parthenon)
I woke up around 9 am alone in Vicky's apartment. I packed my things as I have always done and put up a blog post before heading out the door to catch the train that I had come in on the night before. I went back to Monastiraki, and the place that I had left off on foot, and made the short trip to a place I have been waiting a long time to see: the acropolis, and the Parthenon.
I paid a huge 12 euros at the ticket booth, and excitedly made the climb past swarms of people. Up the hill...through the main portal...and there it was (not quite in all its glory): the Parthenon. I couldn't stop smiling and laughing to myself, to the point that I got worried about straining a muscle in my cheek. There it was, the primary example of great classical architecture--a testament not to the perfection of imperfection, but of a calculated deviation from rectalinearity and symmetry. The Parthenon deceives the viewer through slight modification of what is perceived as parallel regularity, evoking a sense of scale and rhythm beyond physical possibility. If the ancient architects wore square framed glasses and skinny ties, they might call it "distorting the grid."
Anyways, with all the hype, expectation, slides, plans, elevations, perspectives, etc...it was pretty much just like I expected it to be...except for the scaffolding, tourists and amount of unoriginal stone (the caryatids of the Erechtheon, for example, have been replaced with concrete casts).
I went around, gazing up and snapping photos. I took one photo of my shoe with the Parthenon that one of the attendants told me to delete (you can only take photos with people as subjects?). I very earnestly worked away at my phone, pretending to delete the photo...and eventually they left. I was kind of frustrated by their lack of understanding, and in a way, it spoiled the rest of my visit (a bit like my experience at Ronchamp).
I spent the rest of the day in the new acropolis museum (which I won't review here) and at the nearby Plaka market area. I bought some of the only souvenirs that I have purchased on this trip: two cheesy Marathon-Athens t-shirts. I figured it was time to expand my wardrobe a little bit.
Around 5 pm I met Vicky and her friend Zoe (and for a brief moment Stefano, who came to give my my own magic "Panathinaikos" jersey). We walked together to Kalimarmaro, the classic Olympic stadium. It was a beautiful track, and I couldn't resist the urge to hop the fence and run a "victory lap." I made it about 20 meters down the first straightaway before I had whistles and shouts close behind me. I knew that if I turned back there was no way they would let me run the rest of the lap...so I just kept going around. The security attendant cut me off on the other side of the straightaway and gave me a serious talking to. I don't think it helped that I was grinning the whole time. We walked back to the edge of the track and he told me to hop over the fence (he would follow). I hopped over, and Vicky, Zoe and I walked away very quickly. Awesome.
In the evening, I went to dinner with Vicky and some friends at a restaurant near where she lived. She, like many others before, was almost too good of a host. I went to bed well fed and excited for the coming morning. I would be going home.

Day 130

2009-10-02T12:29:00.001+02:00

Plaka, Athens, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

80 Kilometers.
To Athens.
I woke up at 7:15 to Babis, Stefano's older brother, coming up the stairs. We had agreed that we would wake up at 7, but I had done that "I'll-just-close-my-eyes-and-enjoy-the-wonders-of-bed-for-a-few-more-seconds thing." When something other than my alarm woke me up, I jumped up in surprise and made a little shout (to indicate "no, no...I wasn't sleeping"), thinking that I had slept much later...and how could I travel 80 kilometers through Marathon to Athens today if I had slept late?!
It was only 7:15.
I got out of bed and went downstairs, where a bowl of rice pudding had been left out for my breakfast. I ate, took my time packing up my things and hit the road...walking back to the place where Stefano had picked me up the day before.
I bought and ate a Snickers bar as my GPS found signal...and then, well, I started to run.
I ran the first half-marathon continuously. As I ran through one town a man hailed me. He had seen me running as he drove out of Oropos.
"I am going to Athens" I told him, "I came here running from Amsterdam. Today is my last day."
It felt good to say.
On my way, I passed by some signs that pointed towards Athens. They had numbers that were less than forty. Those roads weren't for me though...I had to go to Marathon first, and my mileage for the day was going to be a bit higher.
I stopped in a village at 21 kilometers or so to get a little more to eat. A chocolate croissant, a bottle of water and a bottle of chocolate milk. From there, I walked. My left calf was still tight as it had been the day before, and I had a long day in front of me. I walked for about 9 km before picking myself up and easily running the last leg into Marathon.
Marathon. Sick. For those that don't know, the original marathon was run from Marathon to Athens by Pheidippides following a great battle in 480 BC. The Athenians had won a decisive victory over the Persians, and Pheidippides had run to the city to announce victory. He arrived fatigued and on the edge of death, and he proudly announced "we won" with his final words. From this seed came the marathon of the Olympics and the (slightly longer) standard distance set by the Queen of England in 1908. This historic run would be the end of my day, and the end of my 4,090 kilometer journey...but now I had to play the waiting game. My legs were tired, and I needed to rest before hitting the second 40 kilometers of the day.
I got an apple and and a big bottle of water and sat out for a while letting my feet have some air and my legs have some rest. I got some fast food in one of the only places that was open--two pita/sandwich things that were the chicken version of the souvlaki I have eaten so many times over the past two weeks in Greece. Not the best kind of pre-run food, but I've developed a bit of an iron stomach on this trip.
I killed some more time, and around 3 pm I decided that I should start heading towards Athens.
As I got ready to leave, however, I noticed a building devoted "to the promotion of the marathon" and went in to see if it was open. By chance, it would turn out that it was, and inside was Maria Polizou, the national record holder for Greek females in the marathon. After hearing about who the other was, we were both happy to have met. Maria gave me a tour of the museum, which includes the stats of every Olympic marathon and just about as much marathon history as you could care to know. By the end of the tour, I was all rallied up and ready to run. Maria pointed out where the official marathon start was, and I headed over there to begin the final leg of this very long journey.
4:00 PM. 29 September 2009. On the mark. Get set. Go.
My leg was still bothering me and I was generally fatigued...but I just cruised along at a 2:45 marathon pace. I was running mainly along the side of a busy highway. As the hour mark rolled around, I focused on relaxing my face, which was transitioning from an expression of pain and fatigue to the biggest of grins with a sinusoidal rhythm.
Somewhere in my hoping on and off the road as cars passed by and my pounding of pavement, I stopped to get a few sips of water from a garden faucet (Potable? I hoped so.).
Around 90 minuted in I started to feel some hurt, but told myself that I would have to make it at least to the two hour mark before I could make any amends. I kept thinking (forgetting the name "Pheidippides") "Would that dude who ran from the battle be such a wuss?!"
Well, I made it to the two hour mark, and I kept on going at the same pace. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes later though, I hit it...the wall that was Athens. Call it the 30-something kilometer wall, the 70-something kilometer wall, or the 4,080-something kilometer wall...but whatever it was, it hurt. I was struggling to maintain movement. People were swarming around me and cars were congested in the street. I collided with several car mirrors, traffic lights and people before deciding to stop running under a bridge that, to me, marked my entry into the city of Athens.
I was dead, but thankfully not quite like Pheidippides or Kleobis and Biton. I still had more work to do. I stumbled across a couple intersections with legs that were ready to give way.
I had always expected to arrive in Athens jumping and shouting with excitement...but this wasn't the case. I only had enough energy to stagger to the nearest "Milko" vending kiosk with a big smile on my face.
I bought both a carton and a bottle of chocolate milk, and sat down on some steps to drink them. I poured out the first sip onto the ground in libation, and drank the remainder with greedy thirst. Delicious.
I got up from the steps in a daze. My legs didn't want to function, and each step was brutal. I kept taking pictures of my legs, like it would be possible for you to see in a camera how badly they hurt. Too bad photos don't quite work that way.
One step...another step...keep...moving...forward.
As I rounded a bend in the road at sunset, I got my first view of the Acropolis. It was beautiful. Seemingly so far away...but sure enough, there it was in its illuminated glory: the Parthenon. Athens. I was here.
There was no crowd to celebrate my arrival, and no cameras to capture it...like always, it was just me, in a foreign town with nowhere to sleep.
A couple people who I had spoken with earlier were out of Athens (in London, Cairo) and couldn't host me on such short notice. But Vicky, who had contacted me after reading my story on a Greek blog could. I took the train from the center of Athens to a stop near her house where she picked me up. At her place, I took a shower and she put my clothes in the washing machine. I ate some pizza with Vicky at a nearby friend's house before falling asleep completely drained.
I had one more short stretch of road to do in the morning.
Did I mention I was in Athens?!

Day 129

2009-09-30T09:09:00.001+02:00

Run to Oropos 1, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

47 Kilometers.
I woke up just before 10 am, in time for the hotel breakfast (I had cereal, orange juice, an egg and some bread with honey). After eating, I went back to my room and fell asleep. This is the benefit and the problem with hotel rooms: when you have one, you will use it. I slept until just before noon, when I woke up and quickly packed my things before I had to check out. I noticed that my armpits smelled terrible despite my having taken a shower...so I gave them a quick shampoo, towel-and-sink shower before heading out of the room. Still classy after 129 days.
By the time I got through my Internet work and got something else to eat, it was well into the afternoon, and I needed to run to Oropos.
I maybe walked about 4 kilometers out of Thiva before I started running, on a dirt road that took me through all sorts of beautiful farms. Often times it wasn't a road at all...just a farm. Somehow I kept getting back on the path on my map, and the run went on on roads like this for about 15 km. It was beautiful. I ran by very many people herding goats and picking grapes.
The rest of the run just kind of dragged on, and at some point (about two hours in) I stopped in a small town convenience store to get something to drink. They charged 2.50 for a bottle of Powerade...but I payed it (bitterly) because I just needed it.
Towards the last 10 km of the run, I felt a strain in my left calf, like my muscles had just tightened up...but I kept running because it was getting late and there wasn't really anything I could do. I was, however, running very slowly.
In Oropos, I called Stefanos, who had contacted me after Giorgos in Kalambaka put my story up on a Greek blog. He had only sent me a very short email, so I didn't really know anything about him except for his name. Usually I meet someone or know a little bit about them before I bind myself to sleeping at their house. I was thinking "man, it would be really great if this guy was a crazy serial killer...right at the end of my trip."
When I got into town, I gave Stefanos a call and downed two bottles of "Milko" chocolate milk from a nearby kiosk. As soon as he showed up in his car, I could tell that he wasn't any of the crazy people I had imagined in my head. A really cool young guy. AC-DC was playing as I stepped into the car.
We drove back to his house (only a few hundred meters away) where I met his dog (a nice dog, in Greece!) and his mom. I sat around for a while stretching, drinking water and talking to them before we went out to go eat some Souvlaki in a nearby town (one that I had run through earlier).
At dinner, his older brother Babis showed up, and we spent the rest of the evening talking about a lot of different things. Their dad works on ships, and as a result they are pretty well travelled. Actually, we learned that their dad was working on the ship that I took from Brindisi while I was on it! A very small world.
After dinner I took a shower and had some home made rice pudding. We talked for a while about music (Stefanos is a big heavy metal fan) before I wrote a blog for the night and went to bed.
I fell asleep excited and a bit nervous for the coming day. It was destined to be one that I had been waiting for for a very very long time.

Day 128

2009-09-28T23:58:00.001+02:00

Soccer match, Thiva, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

45.7 Kilometers.
I slept late, and in the morning I informed Chris that I had decided to skip past Aliartos and run straight to Thebes (Thiva). He told me that his family would try to make some calls to see if they could find a friend to host me...which was pretty good news for me. After a couple minutes of phone calls, as I was working on the computer, Chris came over to inform me that he had found a place for me to stay. The Communist party of Thebes had paid to put me in a hotel room for the night.
This came as a surprise. The party has a pretty big crowd in Greece, and well...I guess they are pretty good and very close people. I don't generally go for the hotel, but it had been done, and as I ran I contemplated the amazing hospitality of so many strangers. I contemplated many things on this run, and crazy ideas ran through my head. I ran continuously except for one stop in Aliartos to drink a Powerade, a bottle of water, and to eat the "Crunch" bar that Chris had given me.
I had left rather late, and got into Thiva around 6 pm. I was disappointed to see that there wasn't any Sphinx, inbred eye gouging or lover's armies. I got a call from my mom for the first time in a while, which was nice, and we talked for a bit before I went into an Internet cafe to do some planning. In Gmail I got into contact with Chris again, and he contacted one of his comrades (awesome that he actually used that word) who would come and meet me to hang out for the night. Sure enough, Panayiotis came into the place and tapped me on the shoulder, and we went together to a very busy cafe to watch Panathinaikos win in a soccer match. I talked about many things with Panayiotis and his friends...a lot about politics and religion, and it was interesting to see where our ideals came together and where they diverged.
We went out for a drink together, and I spent the night laughing with some really cool people...and I went to bed around 1:30, in luxury. Thanks KKE!

Day 127

2009-09-28T12:12:00.002+02:00

Me, Christo and friends, Levadia 2, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

42.7 Kilometers.
I slept until around 11 am, when I got up and said goodbye to Sami. I was still a little tired and my legs felt like they didn't want to function, but knew that I needed to start running. Chris, who had found my story on the Internet, had contacted me and offered to give me a place to stay with his family. This was like a grail that I was running to: a bed, a shower, a place to wash my clothes and some people who wouldn't think I was crazy.
As I stepped out the door, rain was trickling down, so I went underneath the cover of the church gallery and wrapped the contents of my backpack in my space blanket. I got some breakfast at a little cafe. By the time I had eaten, the rain had stopped, and I decided to walk for a little bit to let my food settle. I made a couple kilometers before I got bored and decided to run. I had been feeling tired, and it took some serious willpower to make myself start running. As I took my first couple steps, the space blanket started rustling in my bag...every step I took, another crinkling sound. It wasn't raining, and the sound was driving me nuts. I wanted to stop and put things back the way they normally are...but I didn't. The sound wasn't that bad...I just wanted an excuse to stop running. I forced myself through the sound, and before too long rain started pouring down and I was glad that my things would be kept dry. As the rain came down, I got on a short section of dirt roads that carried me into a little town. I grabbed a piece of clear plastic litter and wrapped up my phone to keep it dry. I was running shirtless in the pouring rain, past people with umbrellas and people in cars who were looking at me like I was crazy...and by some miracle, I felt good. There was no sounds bothering me, just the patter of rain on my skin and over twenty miles of mountain roads in front of me. Run Run Run. On a highway, on an empty mountain road, on a highway again. I put on my trash bag and just kept cruising. I passed a bus that had broken down, and the people repairing it and the people inside gave me some curious looks as I passed by. Cars honked at me. It was a good run.
When I thought I was about 30 minutes out of Levadia (in actuality only about 15), I started feeling hungry, and pulled into a rest stop to grab a candy bar and something to drink. The bus that had broken down arrived at the same time (this is probably 20 kilometers down the road), and once again I got some curious looks.
In Levadia, I called Chris and he came out of his house to meet me. I went up to his place and met his dad, and they set me up with a clean shirt so that I could take a shower and wash all of my clothes at once. The shower was amazing, and I felt clean for the first time in a few days as I donned his "Panathinaikos" (Greek soccer team) t-shirt. He had a chocolate milk waiting for me in the fridge. I can't express how good it all was. The days before had seriously worn me down.
Around 9 pm Chris took me out to get some Souvlaki (very good in Levadia) and a drink. I was wearing his brother's jeans, the t-shirt and a hoodie. Whenever we would run into another friend of Chris, he would say "show them the shirt," and I would unzip my hoodie and show them the clover logo of Panathinaikos. "Hey, Yeah!!!" It was like a magic friendship shirt for those who liked the team. We went with a group of people up to see a beautiful spring in the heart of the town before going to a club for a drink. As we walked I spoke with one of Chris' friends who is one of 13 children. The rest of the night, we kept bumping into people, and he would inform me "This is my brother"..."this is my brother."
Somewhere around 2 am we said our goodbyes and went back to go to sleep. I went out like a light.

Day 126

2009-09-27T11:36:00.001+02:00

Tholos 8, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

48.4 Kilometers.
I woke up in Gravia, got a bite to eat (some sort of pastries that tasted oddly like breakfast "Hot Pockets") and started off walking towards Delphi. Delphi. Another place I was very excited to go.
I walked for almost two hours until my clothes were dry, and I was already thirsty when I started running. I stopped by a gas station before too long and downed a liter and a half of water, and kept going along the curvy mountain roads towards Delphi.
I missed a few "shortcuts" that didn't seem to exist in real life, so the run end up being a little longer than I had expected. When I got a couple kilometers from Delphi, I got on an ancient footpath that I ended up walking due to fatigue and pretty terrible terrain.
I was so excited to be in Delphi. All of those Core Curriculum texts from Columbia definitely made the place seem a little bit magical.
I got something to eat in town and went first to the (very nice) museum where I was surprised to see the Kleobis and Biton statues, and several other Greek masterpieces that I had seen in the early days of my Art Humanities class.
From the museum I walked over to the ruins and saw what was left of many buildings mentioned in ancient literature. Delphi was the religious center of ancient Greece, and it still has an air of mystery because of this.
As I got near the temple on the top of the hill, a woman informed me that I couldn't enter. The upper areas of the site were closed due to a recent rock slide. I guess the oracle wasn't in anyways.
In the early evening I went back into the town and started walking around. I ate a bad and overpriced dinner in a tourist restaurant and got going on finding a place to sleep. It had gotten late. I went and spoke with a man in a souvenir shop, and he seemed very nice and interested in my story...but once I told him that I needed a place to sleep, his expression completely changed. I am used to this. He told me I should try going around to hotels and telling my story. I didn't have anything better to do, so I went around and told my story at a large percentage of the hotels in Delphi. I told them that I wasn't looking for a room or a bed, but for just a place inside somewhere...even in a closet. I spoke with probably 6 hotels...and got nothing.
Eventually, I decided to just go to a cafe/bar and try that method. It had started to rain, so being inside was something that I needed. I ordered a coke, and slowly got into talking with the bartender. He charged my phone for me and tried for a long time to think of a place where I could sleep. As I was just about to head out to some parking lot where there was a trailer of some sort and a guy who might let me sleep there if I asked, another guy who worked in the place said that he had a room I could sleep in. Sami, who was there working from Egypt offered the place, but I had to wait until he got off work. I spent the rest of the night, until late, talking with the three young people who were working the bar. Around 3 am I went to Sami's house, where the lights weren't working and where took a shower in candlelight. It was too late to wash my clothes (they wouldn't be dry in the morning), so I resolved to just smell a little bit worse in the morning. At least I would sleep.

Day 125

2009-09-26T19:36:00.001+02:00

Leonidas 2, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

47 Kilometers.
The alarm went off at 7, and I got up right before a woman came upstairs to clean up the place. I gathered my things and tried my hardest to look like a normal customer instead of a homeless dude. I can't really explain how I tried to do this, but I was trying nonetheless. I brushed my teeth in the bathroom, got something to eat and drink, and started running towards Thermopylae around 9 am. It was about 10 miles away, and the run passed fairly quickly despite the four hours of sleep I was working with. I thought about the Spartans as I ran, and that there was no way I could complain about having to run on a little bit of sleep. Those guys killed like 10,000 people on four hours of sleep.
Thermopylae isn't very impressive today. The actual battle field is covered by several meters of dirt, and the sea is many hundreds of meters away from where it was at the time of the battle. There is a cool statue of Leonidas though, and the famous inscription "Tell the Spartans, Stranger passing by, that here obedient to their laws we lie." If you happen to be Spartan, I guess I told you.
I had decided the night before that I wouldn't stop in Thermopylae for the night. Instead I would take a nap on a park bench for a few hours near Leonidas, and then head on towards Gravia. I did this, and tried my hardest to not look like a homeless person whenever people came by to look at the statue or to fill up their water truck at a nearby hydrant.
When I woke up I went over to the nearby cafe and got some lunch, and then went over and sat with my legs in the hot springs for a few minutes before heading out towards Gravia.
In Gravia, I went to the only place where there were people. I ordered a coke and sat there until the sun set, talking with the bartender and some of the young guys who were around the place. They thought and thought about where I could sleep, and we ended up resolving that the best place would be on a bench inside a partially open gallery of the church. The priest unlocked it for me, and Yannis brought me a blanket so that I wouldn't freeze to death during the night. Once we had resolved my sleeping situation, I went back to the cafe and had some drinks...Yannis and Yannis (two guys, one who spoke English and kept insisting that I called him "John") bought me a few rounds of Heinekens, and we had some good old Gravian fun.
Then I went to sleep on a wooden bench.

Day 124

2009-09-25T19:03:00.001+02:00

Little movie theater, Lamia, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

38 Kilometers.
I hadn't washed my clothes until late the night before. They were still damp in the morning and I had to walk for a while as a human clothes line before I started running. The run to Lamia was hilly. I felt very tired, like my legs wanted to stop moving so much.
In Lamia I bought some chocolate milk, a bottle of fruit juice and a large bottle of water at the first real supermarket I ran by. I drank the first two before leaving the parking lot. A stray dog also started following me, but it eventually left. Lamia is full of stray dogs. Greece doesn't seem to have a very good spay and neuter program.
The day was all in all pretty uneventful. I walked up the hill to the old castle that was closed when I got there, and spent a lot of time in various cafes, bars, and food establishments eating and drinking. Not only was I rather hungry, but I figured that if I bought a little something I could make conversation with the person working at the place more easily. None of those conversations seemed to work out, and at 9:30 I decided to change my strategy. My new strategy was to have no strategy at all, and to spend several hours sitting down and not talking to anybody, until it got too late for anyone to be around.
This wasn't quite what I was planning, but it is what happened. I saw a theater that was playing "Inglourious Basterds." It had been well over 124 days since I had seen a movie in the theater, and I have been wanting to do so since Paris. I miss summer blockbusters. Greece is the only country I have been in since Belgium that doesn't dub over movies (they use subtitles), so I figured I would take the opportunity to watch a good movie. An amazing movie.
The only problem with the movie (that I thought about before going in, but decided to risk) is that there are many parts that are spoken in French, German, and Italian. If I were watching the movie in America, I would see subtitles for these parts. Instead, the subtitles were always in Greek and I had to work hard understand what I was hearing. I think, in parts, that it was good that I had to do this.
Tarantino is a genius. My stomach was churning and I felt that "oh man, something bad is going to happen" dizzy feeling on many occasions. Then I realized that I was feeling dizzy because the camera was spinning around the actors. I think only great artists have this ability, to use a completely different sort of sense or experience to "fool" you into feeling another. Like a chef who changes taste through appearance or a composer who can to sculpt with sound. If you are vacation planning, and choosing between going to Lamia or watching "Inglourious Basterds," I would choose the latter. I guess I kind of did.
There was a 15 minute intermission/bathroom break in the middle of the film. Strange. I sat there anxiously, looking around at everyone like "You are ok with this?!"
I got out of the movie around 12:47 with nowhere to sleep and the imagery of a swastika being carved into a forehead carved into my memory. Time to start approaching strangers in the night, right?
Well, that's what I did, and after a few false leads I met some students (about my age) who took me around to see if any of the public buildings were open. None of them were. At the end of our search, they said "you understand it is strange to take you in to sleep in our house, yes?" Yes, it was strange, so said goodbye to them and went to grab a quick snack and then over to a 24 hour Internet point. I used a little bit of Internet, and asked if I could sleep either the empty upstairs or downstairs for a couple hours. After much pestering by friends, the young guy who was in charge of the place let me sleep on the sofa upstairs until 7 am, when I guess it would be a risk that the boss would come in. I went upstairs and set my alarm, it kindly informed me that I had 3 hours and 57 minutes until it would go off again.

Day 123

2009-09-23T16:31:00.001+02:00

Run to Domokos 3, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

50.8 Kilometers.
The four month mark. Also, a nice sequence of numbers.
I woke up around 10 am, still tired and said goodbye to Panos. I went with Lila to a nearby cafe where I sat in the sun and we talked until my clothes were dry. It was a sunny day, and I felt like I should maybe not have thrown away my sunscreen. We went to a nearby pharmacy where I got some free samples rubbed on my face, and I was ready to go.
I really didn't feel like doing around fifty kilometers of running, so after about 36 I stopped to grab a drink of water from a fountain and ate a melted KitKat bar that I had packed in my bag. I walked leisurely for about 7 or 8 kilometers, and passed by big cotton fields for the first time that I can remember. I picked some cotton and made some yarn as I walked.
Once I got bored with cotton, I started running again, and despite my legs feeling pretty sore, I made it up the big hill to Domokos. It was a nice dirt road that looked like it hadn't had traffic in years. At the end of the road I could see why. There was a big pile of clay, rock, and trash blocking the road. I had to climb up this to get into Domokos, and I arrived in the city sweaty and with orange mud all over my hands.
I bought a chocolate milk and went to the Police station.
Yannis (from the Bar Rouge where I slept in Trikala) had gone out of his way to make some phone calls for me, and I guess his brother is a police officer, so he got it set up so that I could go to the police station in the small town and then sleep in one of the rooms that the church had.
The guy in the police station had no idea what was going on (and I didn't meet one person who could speak English), but after some calls and waiting around I got hooked up with the right officer who brought me out to meet the "Papa" who let me into his church building and gave me a key to a room. It was really nice, with a clean bed and bathroom and fresh sheets on the bed. I went out to grab something to eat and came back in the late night for a shower and a solid 10 hours or so of much needed sleep.

Day 122

2009-09-22T21:11:00.001+02:00

Panos' Design Studio, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

26 Kilometers.
I slept until a little after ten, waking up once in the morning to explain to a guy who worked at the bar what I was doing sleeping in the storeroom. I ate for breakfast the food and water that had been given to me the night before (sandwiches, cake, cookies) and spent a long time working on the Internet before getting my things together and heading out of town. As I packed up my things, I decided to drop some weight by throwing out my sunscreen (it has been pretty cool recently) and the eye drops that I had bought the day before. Thankfully my eye wasn't bothering me anymore.
It was another short run to Karditsa, and I arrived in the late afternoon. It was a bit cold, and I walked some random circles around town into the early evening. As it started getting dark, I walked past a nicely lit office with a sign that said "Design Studio." I saw Mies van der Rohe's Barcelona chair, so I figured that was enough reason to walk in.
[Enter me, smelling/smiling, holding two dirty running shoes by the laces]
Panos: (Something in Greek)
Me: Den Milao Elinika (Translation: I don't speak Greek)
Panos: What are you doing here?
Me: Oh, just looking.
Panos: This is not a store, it is my studio.
Me: Yeah, yeah...still, just looking...
Somehow from this slightly awkward start, we got to talking and I showed Panos my website and some of my work. As we talked, I met his little brother and his father, and he offered me a place to sleep at his apartment. Just awesome.
His friend Leila (an architect) came over to the studio, and I ended up going with her to get some dinner and see her studio as Panos went back to his apartment to get some work done. Leila had just started her own studio, and wanted some advice on a facade she was working on. I was so incredibly excited to have the opportunity to think about architecture again. It has been a long time. I gave her some drawn out opinions, and we talked a lot about architecture in general. I made sketches, and used Autocad and Photoshop for the first time in ages. Ohh, I love those things.
Around midnight we went over to Panos' apartment and I took a shower and washed my clothes. We went downstairs to a bar and stayed out until around 3 am having drinks and talking about design. A good good deal.

Day 121

2009-09-21T14:01:00.001+02:00

Sober in Trikala, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

22.5 Kilometers.
I woke up around 9 am and had the hotel breakfast. I made a legit bacon, egg and cheese sandwich for the first time in a while (I had been talking with Giorgos the day before about how one thing that I really miss is a good American breakfast). I spent the late morning and early afternoon walking around some of the monasteries and nunneries of Meteora. It was a foggy morning, which wasn't great for the views...but it was all amazing nonetheless. As a light rain came down, I took a footpath back to Kalambaka where I took a shower and packed up my things. It was around two pm when I said goodbye to Giorgos and started running towards Trikala. It is kind of funny that I think of 22.5 kilometers as a "short" run, but it did go by quickly...along one straight road that passed from Kalambaka to the center of Trikala.
About an hour into the run I had a sudden strange sensation in my eye, and thought that I caught a little piece of something in it. I tried all the techniques of getting things out of your eyes that I know, but nothing seemed to have any effect. I still don't know what it was, but my eye was trembling and itchy and red, and tears were pouring down the right side of my face. I figured I couldn't do anything about it on the side of the highway anyways, so I just kept running, hoping that maybe some fresh air would make it go away.
In Trikala it didn't seem to get any better. I spent the afternoon wandering around town, checking things out through one good eye. I grabbed a bite to eat and found an open pharmacy where I bought some eye drops. The person couldn't speak English, and the package they gave me wasn't in English either, but I figured I would give it a try. Some of the only words I recognized on the container were "Boric acid" and "Sulfuric acid."
"Umm...I guess I'll put a couple drops of this stuff in my eye..."
My eye didn't seem to get much better after that either. I spent a decent amount of time in an Internet cafe with liquid running out of my itchy eye and nose. Wasn't a great feeling. I guess the symptoms point to allergies, which I've never had a problem with before.
I waited and waited for my potential cs host to call me. He had gone away for a business trip, and told me the day before that he might be back in time to host me. I called him a few times but never got any response.
I wasn't feeling quite as social as usual. It is a bit more difficult to approach random strangers when you have your hand over your eye and it is bright red and tearing. I got some dinner, and around 9 I went into a little bar along the main street. The place was kind of empty, but it was the only bar that I thought I could tolerate. The rest of them were packed, but were playing loud music with all sorts of flashy lights. The kind of bar that I never really like to go to.
Anyways, I had a Guinness and then asked the bartender if he knew of anything going on this evening in order to start conversation. He told me to go to the historic part of town, where there were more real bars...and I went there.
I walked around for a while before walking into a little bar that had a few people in it. I stood at the bar by myself and ordered a Heineken. I smiled to myself as I thought about how long ago I had been at the old brewery in Amsterdam. My eye seemed to be getting better, but I was still in a bar by myself with nowhere to sleep...still kind of hoping that the couchsurfing guy would give me a call back. I think the bartender (Sotiris) could see my sorry situation, and he poured a shot of Jack Daniel's for each of us. "Cheers," he said. Down the hatch. Little by little I told him my story, as he poured drinks for the people that were slowly coming in the doors. Another Heineken, another shot. Another Heineken, another shot. Another Heineken, another...
It was a lot of fun, and certainly one of the better times I've had drinking at a bar.
There came a point, however when I realized that I was past that line of feeling good when I went to sleep. I cannot handle alcohol extremely well, and this I know. I stopped worrying about sleeping, and instead about doing whatever I could do to keep myself from vomiting all of the liquid fun out of myself with enough force to pop all the blood vessels in my eyelids. The good thing about Greece, is that they always serve a glass of water with your drink, no matter what it is...so I had been drinking water consistently. I stopped with the beer and worked on just taking in as much water as I could. Sotiris knew what I was up to, and kept my glass of water constantly filled. Around 2 am I decided that I should pop out to grab something to eat to slow down that Jack from absorbing into my system. I asked Sotiris if I could close up the tab, and he asked me to remind him how many drinks I had.
"Hmm, I think 4 Heinekens and however many-"
"4 Euros."
"What?! No no...not four Euros, please..."
He wouldn't take my money. I got wasted in a nice bar for 4 Euros. Incredible.
I wandered around the streets for a while, stumbling into a pizza place where I got a small cheese pizza and a big bottle of water. It was very very cold outside, and my drunken plan of using alcohol to numb the cold feeling didn't seem to be working that well. I had to be inside, so I went back to the bar and had another glass of water before saying goodnight. I asked Sotiris if he had any suggestions, but he lived very far away and I decided to try out the train station. The train station was pretty far away as well, and I had no idea if it would be open. On the way there though, I passed by the bar that I had been in earlier, and the bartender waved to me from inside. I went in to say hello and to ask if the train station would be open. I talked for a while with the all of the people who worked in the bar who were closing up shop, and they informed me that the train station was closed. I sobered up significantly as we talked, and they offered me a place to stay in one of the storage areas that the bar had nearby. They gave me a box with some food and a couple bottles of water and brought me over to my sleeping place. It was so nice to not be sleeping in the cold, and just as incredible that I had become sober enough to not puke all over their storage closet. I slept on a desk with my feet extended onto a stool, using my backpack as a pillow. I fell asleep very easily.

Day 120

2009-09-20T17:12:00.001+02:00

Meteora Panorama 4, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

27 Kilometers.
I woke up around 7:30 and had a light breakfast (homemade bread and marmalade, and eggs from their chickens) before saying my goodbyes. I walked up the hill to the church with the mother before heading on towards Kalambaka. The run was mostly downhill, and shorter than I had thought it would be. There was a cool breeze and I could see the rocks of Meteora sticking up like big molars miles in the distance.
When I got into Kalambaka I got some drinks (what do you think?) and called Giorgos my couchsurfing host. He picked me up in the middle of town and drove me a short distance to where I would be sleeping this night. His family ran a hotel in town, and I would be sleeping in a room. Very comfortable (If you ever go to Kalambaka by the way, you should stay in the Odysseon). I took a shower and spent the rest of the morning and the afternoon with Giorgos. We sat around the garden drinking tea and talking about travel until his brother came to take his shift and we went on a drive through the windy roads of Meteora. Usually when I am running on a windy road, I get angry when people drive at crazy speeds around the curves. Driving with Giorgos on those rocks definitely made me understand why they do it though. Lots of fun.
Meteora, by the way is another UNESCO world heritage site, and is an incredibly amazing place. The rocks jut up like towers and were shaped by more than a handful of years of water, wind, goats and hermit monks with spoons. There are swarms of monasteries and hermit dwellings built on top of and into these rocks. It is an incredibly majestic place, where the architecture seems as impossible and extraordinary as the nature upon which it is built.
I had lunch with Giorgos and in the early evening he dropped me off at some monasteries near the town that were built into the side of the rock. He told me how to get around a fence and where to find a secret trail and let me go. I followed his verbal treasure map exactly, and emerged from a tunnel of trees at the upper monastery. I climbed around the rocks in solitude for a while, enjoying the views before I noticed a staircase carved into the rock. It didn't seem to go anywhere but a big dimple in the rock, and it even stopped well before that. It took me some bravery to climb carefully along the rocks to reach this dimple that I was hoping was a very deep cave with a treasure inside (why else would someone carve a steps into the stone to get to it?). Some of those monks had to be incredibly fearless, and very good climbers to make this stuff. Anyways, I finally got into the cave, and was surpised to see that it was a little deeper than just a dimple. It went back far enough to where I couldn't see because of the dark, and couldn't see the goat poop that I was putting my hands in. I am so amazed at the places that mountain goats can go. No treasure, but a good little climb.
I went the hard way back to Kalambaka and spent the rest of the evening lounging around the town and the hotel. I watched tv by myself for probably the first time in months. It was a random episode of "LOST" with Greeks subtitles, and considering that I hadn't seen any of the episodes before or after, I was considerably lost. Somehow I still managed to be enthralled when some random twist that I didn't understand was revealed every 30 seconds.
I had some dinner and went out for a drink with Giorgos and his brother before going to bed. I didn't fall asleep quite as early as planned as a result of the flickering box above my bed, which was playing movies I would have never have bothered with back in the states.

Day 119

2009-09-19T13:44:00.001+02:00

Trygona, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

42 Kilometers.
Somehow with occasionally waking up to rearrange myself, I managed to stay in the car until almost 11 am. From there I went to a nearby bakery where I got some delicious spanakopita for breakfast. I spent some time in the town waking up, brushing my teeth in a public fountain, using the Internet, and seeing people I had seen the day before. I think it was around two or three pm when I finally made it out of town.
The first 15 km were all uphill, and I peaked the Katara right as a huge downpour hit. Turns out my Wikipedia information for the height of the pass was incorrect. According to the sign it was only a mile high.
I donned my trash bag and kept running down the hill as the rain fell off and on. It was mostly a light rain, and as the rain chilled my forearms the sensation brought me back to many good memories of running in the rain.
I got into the town of Panagia after about 30 km of running, and stopped in to see what I could see. It was 70 km from Metsovo to Kalambaka, and I had the option of either stopping in Panagia or doing another ten kilometers to Trygona. There wasn't much in the small village, and I ended up falling asleep for a short while near the church before heading over to a "place" to find something to eat. I use the word "place" because in the small villages here, the restaurants aren't really restaurants, they are kind of like a community center, a cafe, a bar, and a kitchen all in one. Anyways, there I got some food which might have had something to do with the head of a cow from what the guy was gesturing to me and had a good amount of bread and feta. I didn't think I was going to have much luck in this town, so I decided to head on to Trygona.
At this point, it was the early evening, and I was planning on walking the ten kilometers or so as my food settled. My legs were also not feeling incredibly fresh. I walked and walked, and as a light rain began to fall, I put my trash bag back on. A car or two stopped to give me a ride, and I had to wave them away. I really hate walking for this reason. People always think you want a ride, even if you aren't on their side of the road and walking with your thumb out. I guess it is nice of them.
Well, somewhere the sun began to set and some clouds began to form in the sky, and when I turned around to see a red mass of clouds, I decided that I should probably just toughen up and run a few more kilometers. I packed up my pants and jacket, and ran with my trash bag...it seemed like an eternity to Trygona, and it got dark along the way. It also started to thunder, and the rain was falling like crazy. I felt crazy. I was soaking wet, running in the dark, lightning was crashing down and cars were speeding by. I had no idea how far I was from Trygona (the town wasn't listed on my phone maps) and I had no place to sleep when I got there.
Eventually, I rounded a corner and saw the lights of the town. I smiled as I swept the floods of water from my face and stopped in the first (and only) "place" that I saw. I took off my trash bag, walked past the tables of villagers and ordered a bottle of water (like I hadn't had enough). I must have been a strange sight, and I just kind of sat there and looked down at myself. I was soaking wet. Once again I thought to myself, "what the f@#$ am I doing here?!" It seemed like everyone else in the place was thinking the same thing.
One of the tables tried to ask me where I was coming from, and if I was on a bicycle. Nope, no bicycle. I tried to show them the route on my shirt, but it was soaking wet and the black one isn't quite so clear. I took out my little laminated card and gave it a shot for the first time.
Silence.
Reading.
Silence.
One of them goes off for a couple minutes.
I am sitting there looking (and feeling) dumb. Soaking wet.
One of them says: "Ok, come...schlafen."
I instantly feel ten times better.
The online translation made enough sense I guess. Thanks to my friend Nick for laying out that card for me...
Anyways, I got in the car, and we drove a few hundred meters to their house. The evening was spent getting over language barriers and getting rested in a wonderful home. The mother spoke German, as many people here do (a huge portion of the population went there for work in the mid twentieth century), so I primarily spoke with her. She showed me photos of her family, and matched the photos of children with her three grown daughters who were visiting from Athens. Whenever one of them wanted to know anything, they would call up a daughter or a friend who spoke English, and I would speak into the phone, and then pass it back for the translation. It was a lot of fun. I took a shower, and had a huge meal of homemade food (every time I thought I was done they would put more on my plate. "Essen!"). We watched Greece win in basketball over Turkey and last but not least, I fell asleep in a bed. Some good luck and good hospitality at the end of a very wet day.

Day 118

2009-09-18T12:01:00.001+02:00

To Metsovo 9, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

58.7 Kilometers.
I left Ioannina in the early afternoon with the goal of making it to Metsovo for the night. There wasn't really a good stop in between, and my map told me it was somewhere around 55 kilometers from Ioannina. This seemed manageable if I walked a little bit of it. It would be almost entirely uphill, along the "Katara Pass" to Kalambaka. "Katara" by the way, translates to "Cursed," and at 1,746 meters it is one of the highest in Greece.
I wasn't sure if there would be any stores in between, so I bought a roll of Oreos and a big bottle of water and decided to walk the first leg. I figured I could keep hydrated for a couple hours of walking, and then start running when I got to a reasonable distance. I walked for around two hours, and chipped 12 kilometers or so out of the run and all the Oreos out of the roll.
I ran straight for the next two hours or so along windy mountain roads. I had chosen the old road, by the way...the new one was more like a freeway and involved some serious several kilometer tunnels. There was nothing along this road, and as packets of cars slowly passed by in the oncoming lane and honked their horns, I could see the surprise in their faces. "What is this guy doing here?!" The road wound and wound, in mountains and valleys, miles from anything. If you get carsick, this road is like your worst nightmare.
Luckily there was a little village at the 40 km mark, and I stopped to get some Powerade before diving into the last hour or so of running. I was all excited to get into the last leg, but after only a couple steps my legs started feeling terrible. The road was a constant uphill, and after thirty minutes more I decided to stop and walk.
I walked, and walked, and walked. I walked until I got hungry. I hadn't eaten very much this day, and my stomach was starting to feel like it was eating itself. There was nothing between me and Metsovo except more kilometers, and the only way I would eat was if I got there. If I walked I would have to wait longer to eat, but my legs were too dead to run...and I was too hungry to run. I walked until I was about three kilometers away. When I could taste the town ahead, and then I started running.
Oh, I felt terrible...but there was bottles of chocolate milk waiting for me in Metsovo. After eating and drinking a little bit I felt human again and started wandering around the town with the hope of finding a place to sleep.
My mom gave me a call. It was her birthday. "Happy Birthday Mama! Yes, your son feels like death and has nowhere to sleep tonight, but Happy Birthday!" Haha, it wasn't quite like that, but I do feel sorry for making her worry!
Someone told me about a monastery that was down the hill, so I walked down there as it got dark to see if I could find some hospitality. It was a long walk on my tired legs, and when I got there an angry woman with a broom shooed me away. I didn't know angry women with brooms were allowed to live in monasteries. It was the evening time and tourists weren't allowed to come by after hours. As I tried to logic with her she started making barking sounds to tell me "I will send a dog on you." I didn't find a place to stay, and I had to make a huge hike back up the hill into town, but hearing an old woman make barking sounds while waving a straw broom made it all worth it.
I got some dinner at a kind of "fast food" Greek place, where I talked to the guy about what road I should take in the morning. He suggested the new road, because there wouldn't be wild dogs or bears and there would be people to help me. After resolving that speeding cars and several-kilometer-long tunnels were just as dangerous, we decided that I should take the old road. He suggested that I go to the police station to find a place to sleep, but I went to a bar instead.
There I got talking with the young bartender and some of his friends, and after much thinking we resolved that I would have to sleep in his car. He got me a sleeping bag and brought me out to the lot where it was parked. It was a tiny car, and when I saw it from the outside I though "This is going to be hell." It actually wasn't that bad, and after about 10 different positions I ended up finding one that was comfortable enough. I leaned the passenger seat back, and filled the cavity where your feet go level with the seat (with my backpack and assorted random stuff that was in the car). I slept with my head on this pile of stuff (near the glove compartment) and my legs in the back seat.
I didn't take a shower. I smell terrible. More pass and another small village on the way to Kalambaka. I have a couchsurfing host there at least.

Day 117

2009-09-17T00:10:00.001+02:00

Storefront me, Ioannina, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

25 Kilometers.
I slept a solid 10 hours and woke up after ten. By the time I got my things gathered together, it was after 11...at which point I walked over to the bakery to say goodbye to Kostas. He gave me some more baked goods before I left, and I walked the first couple kilometers to let my food settle and my laundry dry.
Despite the run being much shorter than average, I was still chased on one occasion by a pair of nasty looking dogs and was still incredibly tired coming through the last 8 kilometers.
When I got into Ioannina I wiped the dead bugs from my chest, put on my shirt and went into the first grocery store I came across. The cashier started talking to me very quickly in Greek, and it took me some time to explain where I was from and what I was doing and that I did not understand Greek. She seemed very interested in how wet my shirt was. Eventually a woman who was shopping in the store joined the conversation, and she asked me if I spoke German. Once again I communicated to a group of people through a language that was secondary (or quaternary) for both parties. The grocery store had a huge selection of cold chocolate milk. I went with the "Milko" this time, and added a bottle of water and a couple bananas to my basket.
From the grocery store I went to the nearest Internet cafe, which actually was an incredibly modern gaming facility with huge computer screens and fast connections. I updated my blog and spent some time sending out couchsurfing requests. I also printed out (and later laminated) a little note card that had my route on one side and a little explanation of my trip in Greek on the other. My friend Nick back in NY had laid it out in Photoshop for me, and the Greek was computer translated due to a lack of time on my part. It kind of makes sense though, according to a local.
Near nine pm I met my couchsurfing host Giota, who had been studying for an exam she had the following day. We met up with a couple friends and went out and had souvlaki together.
When we returned home, we spent a little while talking about which road I would take the following day. The road I have on my map meant 53 kilometers up a mountain to get to the town of Metsovo. I guess there is a new road that is supposedly better, but it does not appear on my map, or on Google maps yet (Google is supposed to know everything!). I guess we'll see what happens in the morning. Overall, another good day for rest and planning. I think some tough one coming up ahead.

Day 116

2009-09-16T17:26:00.001+02:00

Kostas working in the Bakery, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

33.4 Kilometers.
I woke up a little before 8 am, folded up the blanket and mattress and returned them to the cafe where I had gotten them. I used the bathroom and brushed my teeth, and walked a few hundred meters to wake up before setting out running into the foggy and brisk morning. "Feels like the fall" I thought to myself.
Very fortunately, I had established a place to stay in the small town of Zitsa with Kostas, who I met through couchsurfing. The run seemed long, and I was taunted through the last 8 km by (what looked like) chocolate milk containers which littered the road. I was chased once again for about 400 meters by a pair of very nasty looking dogs. This time I just maintained the same pace and looked forward, hoping that no biting would occur. Eventually they got bored and turned around, and I comfortably continued forward. When I finally got into Zitsa, I went right to the mini market and bought the brown carton that I had been seeing in the street. I couldn't read what it said, but common sense told me it was chocolate milk. I bought two, and opened the first one half expecting it to be goats milk or some strange concoction that would make me vomit. Those glorious brown bubbles proved my chocolate-milk-hypothesis however, and one glorious fact was made certain to me: chocolate milk exists in Greece.
As I stammered about in the street, I heard my name called out. It was Kostas. I headed over to the nearby bakery where he worked to meet him. I spent the afternoon talking to Kostas, watching him make cookies and asking him questions about preparing bread as he offered me all sorts of delicious things to eat.
Around two we went over to the place where I was staying, and I met Jack, an English guy who was also couchsurfing with Kostas (a guy who has been roaming Eastern Europe and the Middle East for around 15 months). We had a long lunch with Kostas, his mother, and his Grandmother...and I was given enormous amounts of incredible food. The day was spent eating vegetables from his family's garden, bread from his bakery, wine from his family's grapes, and feta cheese from his family's sheep.
After a long lunch, I took a shower and washed up my clothes, and took a nap for a couple hours. Around 8 we met Kostas again for more food and drinking...and around midnight I went to sleep again.
There is definitely something good going on in Zitsa, and Kostas knew all about it. I got the recovery that I much needed, and the food and friendship that encouraged me to keep on running through the crazy (and wonderful) place that is Greece.

Day 115

2009-09-16T16:41:00.002+02:00

Me and my Bed, Vrosina, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

46 Kilometers.
Woke up on a bench in a port feeling fresh and ready to go. I always wake up feeling fresh and ready to go when I wake up on metal benches in ports in Greece. This day was going to be a big one, so instead of getting started right away I procrastinated by getting some food, washing up, going back to the Internet cafe, buying a SIM card, etc...until it was almost one o'clock.
From there I got myself set up and set off on the 41 km run to Raveni. I had to stop a couple times in the first couple minutes to resituate the bag of cookies that was making rustling sounds in my backpack. I bought them in case there was nothing in Raveni. Everyone knows that a couple cookies will save you from starving to death in Greek mountains.
About two hours into the run I started feeling pretty thirsty, and luckily came across a little mini market where I stopped to grab some water. I didn't know the Greek word for water. I had bought a little phrase book in the port, but I was too tired to get it out. I was to tired to put on my shirt. I just stumbled into this little store covered in sweat and started pointing like an idiot at my mouth. With sweat in my eyes, I was looking around trying to find a bottle of water. I finally found a case and reach down to grab a couple bottles. Before I could though, the guy said one word that I understood: "Ice." It sounded good to me, so I waited until he came back with a cold bottle of water and wrote down the price on a piece of paper. I paid, downed the liter and a half or so, and continued climbing the hill. I gained almost 700 meters of elevation this day.
As I got close to Raveni I found a little box with a ribbon tied around it lying perfectly in the middle of the road. I went over and grabbed it, hoping that it might be a box of diamonds or something that I could maybe use to barter for a place to stay. I excitedly opened it to find 7 old Smarties. Not quite what I was looking for. Despite what magical powers they might have possessed, I decided to not eat them.
A little bit closer to Raveni, as I was wiped out and my legs were completely drained, a gnarly looking dog ran over a mound of dry grass and started barking and chasing after me. It wasn't that big, and it had those nasty hanging nipples that wild dogs often have, which I was sure would make it run slower than me. I've ran past some nastier bitches, so I didn't think twice...I just kept running as it's barks followed close behind. All of a sudden though, the barks got louder and fiercer, and I turned around to see that it had been joined by a crazy looking friend about the size of a big German Shepard. Not quite as pretty as a German Shepard though, and it was showing fangs and making some pretty crazy barking, hissing, and growling sounds as saliva spewed from its mouth and it rushed towards me...the other dog following close behind. I have to admit, I was frightened. I picked up the pace and tried to not look back...but each time I did the nasty dog was a little bit closer to my leg and making some noises which (granted, I don't speak Greek Dog) meant "I want to eat you" to me. A truck approached, and I looked towards it with eyes that read "save me please"...I was ready to jump in the back, but as the truck honked its horn a couple times, the dogs calmed down and went back home. My heart also calmed down, and I continued on to try to find a home of my own.
When I got into Raveni, a man and his wife were working in the garden, and they said some sort of greeting to me. I said one word that I knew that they would understand: "Supermarket?"...and they just laughed. There is no supermarket in Raveni. There is not a store. There is not a cafe. All there was was me and a few handfuls of people that couldn't speak my language.
I helped the guy move some buckets of dirt, and he brought me over to a friend of his who lived nearby. He asked the older gentleman if he spoke any English (I could gather this much), and the man responded to me with a "Sprachst du Deutsch?" I sure did speak a little bit of German, and I spent a few minutes explaining to the man why I was there and what I was looking for. He relayed the information to his friend, and I spent an hour or so sitting down answering questions and asking some of my own as they brought me some plates of Greek food, yogurt, water, beer, figs, baklava, and some kind of rose flavored gummy candy. They said that there was nowhere to sleep in the town, but that I should continue on about 5 km to the next town, where I would more likely find something. The town they named did not exist on my map, but I started walking that way anyways, figuring that I had enough food to last the night if I ended up on a road in the middle of nowhere.
Sure enough, Vrosina did exist, and I went into the one street town with high hopes. There was a little bakery and a couple cafe type places, but not much else. The town could be passed through in about two minutes of walking.
I talked to a girl that looked about 20, assuming that she would likely speak some English. She didn't. She was also not very patient with my hand signals. She definitely would not help me out with a place to sleep. I asked her if there was someone in the town that spoke English. She pointed to one of the little restaurant things, and I went there. The woman who was working the place didn't speak any English, so I just got a plate of rice with some meat and sat down to eat. After a while, another young woman came in, and I asked her if she spoke any English. She did, and like many of the people who I encountered, seemed a little bit bothered by my presence. She told me that there was probably a hotel in a town about ten kilometers away, and I asked her if she could help me with anywhere to sleep in Vrosina. "The church or something like that?" I said. She said that I could sleep in the church, and I later realized that she meant that I could sleep outside under the cover of the roof of the old church. She went away for a couple minutes and came back with a blanket and an old mattress pad, and showed me back to the church where I set up my bed to go to sleep. It had gotten dark, but there was a little bit of light shining on where I would sleep. I wiped off some of the cobwebs and dead insects from the mattress pad, set up my backpack as a pillow and worked on falling asleep.
Apart from the dogs of the down, which barked and snarled and made sounds like they were devouring each other and small goats and children all night, I had a pretty comfortable night of sleep, and wasn't bothered by anyone. "Greece is going to be crazy," I thought to myself as I fell asleep.

Day 114

2009-09-14T10:23:00.001+02:00

Ciao Italia, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

4 km + (373 km)
Woke up for the last time in Italy, ate breakfast for the last time in Italy...and got dropped off at the train station where I was picked up the day before. From there it was an easy 4 km run to the ferry terminal. I got on board and was rather surprised at how nice the boat was. There were cushioned chairs and flat screen TVs (playing programs in Greek, and occasionally ancient US TV series with Greek subtitles. I even saw Jon Stewart doing some nineties acting on "The Nanny").
Anyways. The boat ride was around 9 hours long and nothing that eventful happened except for the fact that it ended with my being in Greece. I: walked around the boat decks while looking at my GPS to see where we were and what I was looking at. Slept for long periods of time in different chairs. Listened to my music for the first time since "Lodi." Ate some Greekish food from the boat cafeteria. Spent over an our taking the case off of my phone so that I could clean it off and change the SIM when I got to shore (the zipper had long been glued shut by my sweat grime). Got my first experiences hearing many people speaking Greek to each other...sure enough, it "all sounds Greek to me."
In the port I grabbed a quick snack and went over to the tourism office (which was open late) to ask some questions and see if I could find a place to stay. Nothing quite worked out, so I walked towards town to see if I could make something else happen. Along the way I found a bar/Internet point and went in to see if a couchsurfer in Igoumenitsa had replied to me. No response, but I used the time to get caught up on my blog and respond to some emails. Before I noticed, it was late and I was in Greece with nowhere to sleep. With the next day would come a 40 km trip through the mountains to a small village, so it would be nice to get some rest.
The guy working the bar seemed pretty nice, and he spoke good English, so I sat myself down and ordered a Coke. Again, before this trip I never drank Coke...and I still don't like to...but this one was delicious. I was getting hungry, and was ready to eat some good Greek food. Despite how much I loved Italy, I was ready to be out of the place. After 53 days of eating only Italian food every single day, you start to crave a little variation in your diet. I asked the bartender if there was anything to eat nearby, and he asked me what I wanted to have.
"Anything but another plate of pasta or pizz-"
"We have...pizza. You want a pizza?"
"Yeah, fine...I guess."
I had a pizza for dinner on my first day in Greece. I spent the night talking to the bartender Thomas, learning a couple words of Greek and telling him the story of my trip. It got to where it was too late to head into town and try to approach strangers, so I asked the bartender if he had any solutions. He lived with his whole family, so he couldn't help me out (I guess Greeks have that problem too)...but he charged my phone as he thought of possible solutions. Nothing ended up coming except for more phone battery, and around 1 am the place closed up and I said goodbye. Thomas gave me a trash bag to help with the forecasted rain of the coming day, and I headed back to the ferry terminal to get a decent night of sleep on a metal row of seats. Luckily the kind without armrests.

Day 113

2009-09-13T21:15:00.002+02:00

Last Real Run in Italy!, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

39 Kilometers.
Around 11 am I got up and started preparing for my run. I got some junk food from the train station cafe for "brunch" and changed my clothes in the station bathroom. I have felt more fresh on runs...but this was my last real run in Italy, so I definitely enjoyed it. I was feeling pretty crazy about being so close to the end of Italy. Hence the above photo.
When I got into Brindisi I was wiped out. I wandered around for a while and called Frederica, a cousin of Sasa, who I stayed with back in Parma. Her dad picked me up near the train station and we went over to a tourism agency where I booked my ticket to Greece for the morning.
I took a well needed shower and washed all my stuff, wearing just my track pants and jacket around for the rest of the night. In the evening we went out to their place on the ocean to hang out for a little while before coming back for dinner. Around 11 I went out with Frederica and a couple of her friends around Ostuni. There was a town festival going on, and I got to see my last cheesy Italian line dancing before we went and had a drink at a pub near the center. Around 1 am I went to sleep...in a very comfortable bed. I slept like a rock.

Day 112

2009-09-13T21:08:00.001+02:00

Wedding Party, Ostuni, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

35 Kilometers.
I slept late and spent a long time in the morning and early afternoon working on the computer in an ancient and overly priced Internet cafe. It was after 2 pm when I ran out of Alberobello, and the run to Ostuni went by surprisingly quickly and smoothly. As I passed by a gas station somewhere along the way the old man that was attending the station shouted to ask if I needed any more gas. Sometimes I feel like a car.
Ostuni is famous for being composed of mainly white buildings, and I guess for this reason there were a lot of tourists there. I spoke with a lot of people this night, eventually in the late evening I came across some athletic group stretching along the road. I figured I would give it a shot, so I told them my story. No dice, but they suggested that I ask some guy at some bar in some general direction that they knew. I headed over that way, and ended up stumbling upon a fairly happening swanky bar. I went in and immediately felt awesome. The place had a very classy atmosphere and, well, you know my outfit selection. I ordered a beer and went outside and sat down. Before long I was in conversation with an American that was in Ostuni for a wedding party. Everyone was drinking and having fun, and I got invited to eat dinner with them. We went to a restaurant and had some drinks, and I definitely crashed the pre-pre-wedding dinner. It was a lot of fun, and there were about 20 people in the group who came from all over the world and spoke English. They were all staying in hotels so I wasn't really expecting to find a place to stay through them. This night was about enjoying myself...the next day I would run to my last town in Italy.
We ate and talked and I had a great time with a very fun group of people. We bounced over to another bar where I had some more drinks, and around 3 am everyone headed back to their hotels, and I was left to find somewhere to sleep.
I talked to all the people who worked in the bar, and got one offer from a guy who lived in a town far away. I would have to take a bus and a train back in the morning, so I decided to just rough it for the night. I started following the signs to the train station...which I didn't really realize was about 3 km out of town. As I wandered alone, slightly intoxicated along a long Italian road at 3 in the morning, I thought to myself "where the f@#$ am I?!" This is a question I ask to myself frequently...to which I always just answer with a smile and some inwards laughter.
Slept on a train station bench sitting upright. Around 5 I switched to another bench when people started bustling around me. Around 6 I switched to a bench across the street, moving occasionally to be less in the wind (or more in the sun as it came up). Not the best kind of sleep for an upcoming long run, but hey whatever. Being a university athlete and architecture student definitely prepared me for this kind of life.

Day 111

2009-09-11T12:33:00.001+02:00

Alberobello Light, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

29 Kilometers.
At 7 am Marco's alarm went off, and I woke up in a foggy car with some cramped legs. We simultaneously stepped out into the cold morning air stretched out. Marco and Gianluca resolved that sleeping in the car was not the most comfortable solution, and we drove to a nearby cafe to grab a pastry before heading back to Gioia where they dropped me off at the same place they found me.
I was still incredibly tired, cold, smelly and unshaven and didn't feel much like running. I stumbled over to the train station and went into the waiting room where I slept sitting upright for a couple more hours. Around 10 am the station attendant came in and woke me up.
"Where are you going?"
"Alberobello."
I got up and went back into town. I felt a little bit more rested, but still thought that it would be a good idea to shower and shave before heading out of town. I got a bite to eat, and after talking with a few people, a woman who ran a bed and breakfast let me in to have a shower and a shave in one of the rooms that hadn't yet been cleaned. It was glorious, and I emerged from the bathroom feeling many times more like a slightly respectable human being. I packed up my smelly clothes and got started on the easy run to Alberobello.
I had seen a picture of the town before, and knew that I was getting close by an increased number of "Trulli," an iconic type of architecture with a coned roof made of stone.
Alberobello is another UNESCO site, and I spent the late afternoon going through the town, walking in and out of various Trulli.
I went to the tourism office to see if they could help me out with a place to stay. I gave them some time to think, and around 8 pm the two girls working the office said that the best thing they could think of was going to the church and giving it a try.
It hadn't worked many times in the past, but around 8:30 I went over to the church and told my story. Before I could finish, a phone call was made and I had a place to sleep and a shower in a nearby church building. The guy who was living in the building made me an huge dinner, and I slept in some sort of classroom/bedroom that was painted with murals from Disney movies.
Next stop Ostuni. Then Brindisi. Then Greece.

Day 110

2009-09-11T12:01:00.001+02:00

Pool, Gioia, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

34.1 Kilometers.
Francesco had left early for work and I slept until almost 10 am. When I left the apartment it was almost 11. I found an Internet cafe and worked for a little bit, but before I could get much done they closed for lunch (which in this part of the world is a three to four hour endeavor).
I went to a sandwich shop and got some breakfast/lunch, and before I left I made a ghetto package for the remainder of my Nesquik powder out of some of the paper used to wrap up sandwiches. It didn't make much sense to run with a giant yellow plastic jar.
The run to Gioia del Colle was beautiful, straightforward and flat. There was nothing but fields, and the last 10 km were on a narrow side road through some very pretty farms.
I felt good.
When I got into Gioia del Colle, I was very thirsty. There were no fountains during the run, and I was pretty happy to find an open supermarket right when I got into town. With four Euros I bought two apples, a liter of some tropical fruit juice, a liter of fresh milk and a six pack of cheap popsicles. I sat outside and mixed up a delicious bottle of chocolate milk with the remainder of my powder and proceeded to work my way through an apple and 5 and a half popsicles (they were small).
I spent the rest of the daylight hours wandering around town. There was an "Oktoberfest" party getting set up in a little piazza, and I walked past a Jazz club that would be open later in the evening, so I figured my night couldn't end that badly.
Around 8 pm the Oktoberfest crew started trying to draw a crowd: there were two people on stilts and a third guy who had a game where you needed to catch a broomstick. If you won, you got a free beer. I (like everyone else) did not win.
As the Oktoberfest started pulling in more people, I decided to check out the Jazz club to see if there was any good music going on (or some laid back people who wouldn't mind giving me a place to sleep). There wasn't any live music this night, but before I could leave I got sucked in to sitting down and having dinner at the restaurant. I was hungry and had a good and slow meal. There were a lot of young people working in the bar who kept coming over and asking me questions about my trip. When I finished my meal, I went over to talk to one of the guys from the restaurant who was sitting with two guys around my age. As we talked, to more of their friends came over and we decided to go play some billiards. One of the friends said that she had a room I could sleep in with a shower, so the rest of the night was pretty laid back. We went to a pool hall, and around 1 am we headed to a nearby town where they were all from. It was at this point that the friend with the key remembered that she had left the key to this room with her uncle and that it was now too late to call. We sat down at a cafe for a while before resolving that I would have to sleep in the car for the night. I drove around with Marco and Gianluca for a while, occasionally dropping someone off or picking someone else up. Right when I started getting incredibly tired, we pulled the car over and they threw back their seats and said goodnight.
I was confused for a minute:
"What are you guys doing?" (they are in the front two seats, I am in the back)
"Going to sleep."
"Why don't you go to sleep in your beds and leave me in the car?"
"We feel bad you have to sleep in the car."
"But...you have to work tomorrow morning. If you sleep in the car as well it will be more uncomfortable for all of us."
"Don't worry about it."
At this point it was after 3 am, and we had to be up at 7 so that Marco could go to work. I stopped worrying about it and started worrying about how much it sucked to not be able to straighten my legs. I guess all the worrying made me tired though, and I was asleep before too long.

Day 109

2009-09-11T11:04:00.001+02:00

Matera 5, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

37 Kilometers.
I locked up the place I was staying and dropped off the key at the cafe before getting a bite to eat and heading out of town. The ankle problem seemed to have calmed down, and was most likely due to a twist the day before and some inflammation that hadn't had time to calm back down. I was able to run continuously to Matera without any problems (with the exception of one very desperate water stop 7 km out).
When I got into town, I was hungry and thirsty and in some serious need of chocolate milk. All the supermarkets were closed, so I stopped in the first cafe I came across that was open. Not only did it have little (200 ml) boxes of Nesquik (I normally buy the three pack and drink it all), but it also had a half sized container of the powder for sale. I went with the more economical option and bought the powder. A calzone, a plate of tomatoes and cucumber and two liters of extremely chocolaty milk made me feel much less hungry.
On the way into the historic part of town, I called Gino who I had contacted through couchsurfing. I wasn't really sure if he could host me, but we planned on meeting around 6:30 to find out.
Until then, I wandered around what Matera is famous for: the Sassi. Homes and churches carved into or built from the rock of the mountainside. It is a pretty amazing place...and while I haven't seen the movie, I guess it is where "Passion of the Christ" was filmed. Many of these cave dwellings were occupied until the 1950s, but now many are abandoned. While some of them were full of trash and in general pretty grungy, there was no shortage of places for me to sleep if I ended up on the street at the end of the night. Matera is like homeless dude heaven.
While the "Sassi" part of Matera (another UNESCO site) includes the buildings that are built from tuffa blocks, I was much more interested in those that were carved into the stone. When you are carving your house out of a mountain, it isn't quite the same as drawing out a plan on a piece of paper and then making it real. Instead, you are sitting there with your spoon or whatever (I'm sure it is not a spoon, but that is what I like to imagine) carving away at a wall. Because of this, the layout is much more organic and everything generally branches from the main portal. Every shelf and square inch becomes important when you are digging it out by hand. When you build a wall, you define an interior space by construction of the exterior. When you "build" a cave, you define an interior space by deconstruction of the interior.
When 6:30 rolled around I met up with Gino at the fair-trade market he worked at and he informed me that while he couldn't host me, I could take a shower at his place and he could find someone that could. Both of those things ended up being true, and I ended up having a place to stay with Francesco, a friend of his who had a spare bed. I did end up spending the night in the Sassi, but in a renovated apartment in the historic part of town. Significantly more comfortable than sleeping in a cave.

Day 108

2009-09-10T19:28:00.001+02:00

Run to Grassano 12, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

47 Kilometers.
In the morning I gathered up my things, locked up my little room and went over to the cafe to drop off the key with Rosellina. I bought a delicious sandwich from her and then a little package of wafer cookies to bring with me on the run. It was going to be another long one and considering the fact that my clothes were still wet, my legs felt like garbage and my ankle felt like it was sprained, I would be walking a little bit. To avoid taking the freeway I would also be taking a mountain road that didn't exist on my cellphone maps.
I walked the first 10 km. I followed another set of long switchback roads down to the valley with my damp clothes hanging off of my arms. I ate the bag of wafer cookies and spoke loud nonsense to myself as I walked. After a pretty long time of walking, I packed up my things and used a bit of my emergency toilet paper before setting out running. I don't know if I twisted my ankle the day before, or if it was just the high mileage, but my ankle was really bothering me. It didn't help that the second 10 kilometers of my run were entirely uphill. When I finally peaked the hill after 10 km of uphill running with some 18 percent grades my ankle was pretty irritated, and I decided to walk once more. Once again, the part that I walked was entirely downhill...but this time through a beautiful dirt forest/country road that I would have loved to be running on. Once again I occupied myself by whistling and gibbering nonsense for a couple hours.
When I got out of the woods, down the hill and about ten kilometers from Grassano I was starving. I only had 1.20 £ on me, and there wasn't much of an option for stores, but I settled for a bottle of water and some form of giant Hostess-type snack that I knew I would regret (but the only thing I had enough cash to buy). I ate and drank and started running, and once more my run ended on a giant hill. In this part of the world they just love building their towns on the top of the hill rather than in the valley. Great for views, rough for running. The hill was tough, and my ankle was bothering me, but the largest problem was definitely the constant feeling that I needed to vomit due to the large quantity of disgusting artificial cake in my stomach. Made it through though, and when I got into Grassano I started checking off things I needed to do from my list:
Get cash from ATM.
Get and take Ibuprofen (hoping to reduce the inflammation before the next run).
Get food.
Get place to shower and sleep.
The first three were easy, but the last one required a lot of walking back and forth on the main street while being constantly uncomfortably chilly (as soon as September hit, it started becoming more cool during the day, and freaking cold during the nights).
When I was getting tired I went into a cafe and ordered a Coca Cola. As I drank from a bendy straw and a glass bottle, the bartender asked me "why are you here?"
From that point came the story that I am so familiar with telling, and from there came a crowd of young people who wanted to help me out. One of them (Francesco) had spare room/studio thing that didn't have any electricity, and he offered to let me sleep there. Before going to bed I went to another apartment where I took a cold shower (no hot water) and washed my stuff. Francesco dropped me off and left me the key...and I had a long night of sleep.

Day 107

2009-09-09T12:48:00.001+02:00

Castelmezzano 6, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

47.0 Kilometers.
I left Potenza with storm clouds in the sky and a cool breeze blowing. It was going to be a long trip to Castelmezzano, but I was feeling fresh and ready to go. Once again, the day was filled with switchback roads, absurdly long climbs and amazing views. I stopped around 23 km to fill up (my stomach) on water and to eat the granola bar that Lieze had given me. It was a short break, and I went straight into the second half of the run feeling fresh and ready to go. 47 kilometers is a long ways, and the last 10 km were up one of the most insane hills I have done. Despite how tired I was, I somehow forced myself to keep running. At times the hill was so difficult that my stride was hardly the length of my foot. By the time I neared the top of the hill I was making the muffled sounds of a dying cow. I felt pretty pitiful...but considering the situation, deservedly so.
Castelmezzano was a beautiful sight. Built into the rocks of the Dolomiti Lucane, it follows the natural forms of the mountain and seems grappled to the towering rocks which lay behind. When I came into the city, one of the first things I noticed was a screaming man flying far over my head. He flew almost a mile from one peak to another, high above the valley below. Had I not already known what was going on, I probably would have been pretty surprised. This was the famous "Volo dell'Angelo": a massive zip line from one peak to another which allows people to "fly like an angel." It looked pretty amazing, and I went into the tourism office to see if I could give it a go. It ended up being 38 Euro, which I couldn't really rationalize. As I decided to hold off on shelling out around 60 bucks until the next time I found myself in Castelmezzano, the woman told me they were sold out anyway.
I spent the rest of the day climbing around the rocks above the town and sitting down to enjoy the views and give my legs a rest. There is a staircase that was cut in the rock by the Templars, and pretty much all of the rocks offer some nice view or another. The whole day I wandered around, every couple of minutes seeing some screaming person fly far above my head. I was definitely a bit jealous.
My legs felt terrible from the run, and every time I would get up from sitting down it felt like walking would be impossible. One step after another though, I managed.
I spoke to a lot of people about finding a place to stay, and wasn't coming up with any solutions. The cold mountain air was starting to worry me...sleeping outside would not be an option. I also checked my wallet (a ziploc bag) to see that I only had around 7 Euros. There was no bank in the town, and I laughed when I thought about how much it would suck if the next town also didn't have an ATM.
At the end of the night, Rosellina who ran one of the two bar/cafes in the center of town talked with her husband Antonio and they offered me a place to stay in a spare room/studio thing they had. There was no shower, but I wasn't about to complain. I wouldn't freeze to death, and that was what mattered.
Before going to bed, I spent some time hanging out with a huge group of locals in the town center...they were playing instruments and singing drunken songs, and I had a little bit of their sweet locally brewed wine.
Around midnight I went back to my little room and gave myself a sink/wet-cloth shower and rinsed off my clothes before going to sleep.

Day 106

2009-09-07T19:17:00.001+02:00

Potenza Fireworks, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

Off.
I woke up in the morning all ready to run. I spent a long time getting caught up on my computer work, and before I knew it it was the afternoon. One problem: I wasn't sure where I was running to.
I spent some time punching in some walking directions into Google maps, putting in the towns that Lieze and Fabio had suggested that I see. I ended up coming up with a (I hope) more interesting route than I had before. Instead of running towards Bari and following the coast, I decided to stick to the mountain villages which seemed to have more potential for architectural charm.
It was after three o'clock when I searched the road from Potenza to Castelmezzano on my phone. It was close to 50 km...not the 37 that Google Maps had given me. I spent some time realizing that the complex mountain trails that were on the Google system were not on my phone, and that there was no way I would be able to navigate them if it got dark while I was running. 50 km was also a bit much to start at around 4 in the afternoon.
I spent some time pondering this dilemma, and Lieze came up with a good solution: stay in Potenza for the night and leave for Castelmezzano in the morning. I agreed, and spent the rest of the afternoon working on planning some of my stages in Greece and thinking about how I am going to survive there. I am going to try to get a little piece of paper printed out that says who I am, what I am doing, and what I am looking for in Greek. While shoving a laminated card in people's faces will definitely make me look like a mute beggar, it is the best solution I can come up with. If you happen to be fluent in Greek and wouldn't mind doing some translation editing of a few sentence description, please send me an e-mail at run@ryanlukejohns.com
Anyways, around 8 we drove up to a big hill on the edge of town where there was a fireworks competition, and we spent the night watching some of the biggest fireworks in southern Italy. It was a much needed day for rest and planning...some things I can never seem to get quite enough of.

Day 105

2009-09-05T13:24:00.001+02:00

Run to Potenza 4, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

41.6 Kilometers.
Another very hilly run. The central part of Italy is very mountainous, and once again my run carried me along beautiful windy mountain roads, over streams and through villages. I didn't follow one road the entire way, but switched many times, cutting through alleys that ended up becoming mountain roads. I couldn't imagine a car passing through some of these roads, and was happy to see that my phone knew about them...despite the fact that this course meant that I had to stop every couple of kilometers to look at the map again.
I don't know if it was because I took things very easy, or if it was because I was finally breaking into my new shoes (maybe an explanation of the pain), but I didn't have too much of a problem running this day. I kept a continuous run except for a couple quick stops at water fountains and one stop to get some Gatorade and a banana in a grocery store in the town of Tito (last chance until Potenza).
I got into Potenza around three and just kind of wandered around for a while. My route had changed slightly to bring me here (having gone further south past Napoli to see Pompeii and Amalfi), and I had already figured out a place to stay. I was staying with Lieze and her boyfriend Fabio, and the story of how I met them is one of the longest ranging connections that I have had. I had stayed with Simonne and Joost on day 9 in Kalmthout, Belgium and on day 16 I had stayed with their relatives Lut and Philippe in Kortrijk. There, I spoke with their daughter Lieze on the telephone. She was living in Italy, and I was running there, so it was nice to talk. Now, 89 days and a couple thousand kilometers later I was in Potenza. That just seems crazy to me.
I met up with Fabio around 5, and I had a shower and put my clothes in the washing machine. I had an interesting conversation with Fabio about eliterature and Proce55ing before Lieze came home from work around 8 and we set off to dinner. I had a delicious dinner, tagliata with arugula and Parmesan in a restaurant that overlooked Potenza. It had been a long time since I had eaten a good piece of red meat, and I felt like shedding tears of joy with every bite.
Before I went to bed, Lieze and Fabio introduced me to some nearby cities that would be very interesting to visit, and I had to think about possibly changing my route once more.

Day 104

2009-09-05T12:47:00.001+02:00

View from the edge of Caggiano, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

33 Kilometers.
In the morning I gathered my laundry that was still damp, said goodbye to Domenico and climbed up the hill to the edge of town in the direction I needed to go. I was hungry, but the only thing I could find that was open was the pastry shop, so I had two croissants with Nutella for breakfast (very healthy food). There was a little shop that had a computer in it, and the computer had a piece of paper taped to it that said "Internet Point," so I stopped in to try to do some of the work that I hadn't gotten done on the incredibly slow computer the day before. This computer wasn't much better, but it had a program installed that made a virtual cat walk back and forth across the bottom of screen, so at least I had that as I waited for pages to load.
I had a 35 cent piece of plain bread from the bakery (still the only place with food) before suiting up and heading out (I have a pretty regular routine of putting on sunblock, wrapping my coins up in paper to prevent jingling and properly orienting a shirt between me and my backpack to prevent chafing).
Once again the run was hilly and windy, and I made it about 15 km before the pain set in again. I managed to keep pushing for another 12 km or so before deciding to hike the last 6 km up to Caggiano. As I could see from 10 km away or more, Caggiano is built up onto a rock, and it was a pretty serious uphill to get there. I think I decided to walk for three reasons: One, the pain in my leg. Two, the desire to run a little bit less so that the next day I might have a little less pain in my leg. Three, the fact that the hill was enormous and steep and I was feeling particularly weenie.
When I finally got into Caggiano, I was hungry, tired an thirsty. I drank some water from a fountain and went into a bar to find something to eat. "All out" the guy said (as I looked around, I could see he wasn't lying...the place was empty). He informed me that the grocery store was shut and that there weren't any restaurants in town. "Hahaha" I laughed in the face of potential starvation.
I hiked up to the top of the town (and the historical center) to see if I could find something to eat. The place was empty, and it seemed like at least 60 percent of the population were incredibly old women with head shawls and canes. The town had a beautiful feel though, and I wandered by some amazing old "castles" and churches. On the upper edge of town (a cliff) there is a little Templar church that has no roof. The steps which lead to it are cut into stone, and while you cannot enter it, the view from this part of town is incredible. I sat down for a while and tried to take it all in. Just amazing.
Eventually, I went back towards the newer part of town, where I discovered a little general store that I hadn't seen before. I stopped in and got a couple apples and a boxed chocolate milk (an amazing find in a tiny Italian general store), and as the woman who ran the place made me a little sandwich, we got to talking about why I was there. Before she finished, she told me to come with her, and brought me outside to tell my story to all of her friends. "This guy walked here from Amsterdam!" (People often use the word for "walking" instead of the word for "running." It is always slightly harsh to hear, like when you get back from a track workout and someone asks if you had a nice time "jogging").
Anyways, I told a little group of people about what I was doing, and one woman (Nicolina) brought up the inevitable question: "But where do you sleep?" I explained that I normally sleep with hosts, to which she asked the follow up question: "Who is hosting you here in Caggiano?" I told her that I didn't have a clue, and she in turn offered to let me stay with her. With those words, a huge weight was lifted off my back and with the biggest of grins I said: "Really? Really?!" Nicolina confirmed that I hadn't misheard her, and I thanked her a thousand times with a very sincere "Grazie Mille."
I ate my sandwich as we talked for a while, and as a group began to gather around, I set out with Nicolina to her mother's house where I met her mother and her daughter and played fetch with a couple dogs. They were preparing tomato sauce in a giant metal pot over a wood fire, and her mom (82, I think) was working at peeling some vegetables. There were peppers drying under the sun and bunches of garlic hanging from the roof. It was easy to see that they took their time preparing their food the traditional way.
From her mother's house we headed back into the historic center of town with her daughter Alessandra, where they lived during the summers. Nicolina showed me around all of the abandoned places in the town center. The closed door that used to be her father's barber shop, the location of the old pharmacy and the old general store. The curch, the place where the people of the town met, and the place where she played when she was a child. Now it was empty, and there were only a couple old men sitting outside holding their guard. There wasn't enough work in the town, and many people had gone north to find a better life. It was a shame to see such a wonderful way of life disappearing.
Their home is in this beautiful old part of the city, and I took a shower there and washed my clothes before we drove out of town to get some dinner at the nearest restaurant. I had (rather fittingly, they pointed out) the "Vagabond" pizza, which was basically a mixture of everything that I would need to move on to the next town.
Before heading to bed, we sat around outside a bar and had a drink with some of their friends. Everyone in the town knew everyone, and the atmosphere of the place was wonderful. It was good to be part of it for a night, and it was a good inspiration for me to keep on going.

Day 103

2009-09-05T11:38:00.001+02:00

Run to Serre, Looking Sharp, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

42.9 Kilometers.
I woke up at 8:30 and had some cereal before heading out with my hosts as they went to work. I said my goodbyes and went out to find an Internet point so that I could get caught up on my blogs before leaving Salerno heading towards what would inevitably be a very small town.
I randomly came across an Internet point, where I went in and got on a computer. It looked about ten years old, and for about every 10 seconds of work I would have to wait about a minute for it to "think." Somehow I got a couple blog posts made before I got to the point where I wanted to rip the computer out of the wall and run with it up a mountain so that I could throw it off a cliff. It had taken me almost 4 hours to do 45 minutes worth of work. It was after three o'clock when I finally got running towards Serre.
I was concerned about my leg, so I took it pretty easy, and initially I didn't have any problem at all. Little by little however, the pain creeped in and when I reached Battipaglia at around 19 km, I decided to stop and walk. I got something to eat as I passed through town, walking onwards towards Serre. I walked for maybe 6 or 7 km before deciding that there was no way I could make it to Serre before it got dark if I kept walking. Despite the numb pain in my quad, I pushed forward and started running. The terrain became increasingly hilly as I came further inland, and the final 8k was basically a continuous uphill. The sun was setting behind me, and I watched my shadow lengthen as I headed east towards a big moon and a town I knew nothing about. I forgot about the pain. All I could think about was getting to my destination before it got too dark to see.
I arrived in Serre as the sun went down, and had to laugh to myself when I saw how little the town was. I was hungry, but there didn't seem to be many options of where to eat. I wandered all through the little town looking for a miracle until I came across a group of younger people sitting on a stoop in front of a shop. I was dirty and soaked with sweat, but I approached them anyways and asked if there was ANYTHING in the town. After telling them my situation, and why I (an American) was in the very small town of Serre, they informed me that there was no hotel in town and not much to do. Someone offered to go speak to the woman who ran the red cross, but before this happened a young man told me to come with him and I followed (as I soon found out) to find a restaurant. As we walked, he explained that the Red Cross would probably not be very comfortable, and that maybe I should try to find the number of a bed and breakfast that might still be in operation in the town. I explained that that was not really what I was looking for, and that I would be pretty comfortable anywhere. In turn, he (Domenico) offered me a place to stay on his couch. We went there first, and I took a shower before continuing on to find something to eat. At the edge of town, he pointed me down a little alley, and I had a great pizza at a place I never would have found on my own. At the end of my dinner, Domenico met me and we walked around town for a bit before I went back to his apartment to fall asleep on the couch. Everyone in this town, including (and especially) Domenico spoke with a thick local dialect, and I understood maybe 30 percent of what I would normally understand. Almost every word is shortened and changed, and at times I thought that he was speaking Russian. It was difficult not being able to understand what was being said, but I had the comfort of knowing that Domenico could understand me. I guess it is good preparation for Greece, where I won't be able to understand, read, write or speak at all.

Day 102

2009-09-05T01:29:00.001+02:00

Paestum, Nettuno, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

26 Kilometers.
I woke up in Minori and had some breakfast with Don Pasquale before heading out towards what was supposed to be Battipaglia. I had slept late, and it had taken freakishly long for my GPS to find the satellite signal, so I didn't get out of town until around eleven. After less than a mile of running along the narrow Amalfi road, I started feeling a serious pain in my quad/femur and decided that I should probably shorten the day a little bit. I ran only about 16 kilometers before stopping and deciding that I would walk the rest of the way into Salerno. If I took the day very easy, maybe I wouldn't have the same problem the next day. After a seriously long walk I arrived in Salerno, where I decided to take a leisurely day trip out to Paestum. It was something that I had really wanted to see that just didn't seem to fit onto my route. The short day of running had given a good excuse.
I paid three Euros each way to get to Paestum and back and hopped on the next train heading south. With all the time spent waiting for the next train, stopping at various stations, etc, it seemed like I could have run to Paestum almost as fast. I was giving my legs some rest though, and that was what mattered. After a few minutes of drooling on my cheek and some panicked "have I missed my stop?" wake-ups, I finally arrived in Paestum (ever since I started riding the subway to and from work in NY, I have developed a habit of falling asleep on trains).
After walking down a long straight road from the train station, I arrived at the ruins where I spent the afternoon and early evening walking around and checking out the sites. Paestum was my third UNESCO site in three days (Pompeii and Amalfi before), and it was amazing to see such well preserved examples of Greek temples. I had seen many photos in classes, and it was great to finally get a real sense of the scale of these buildings. I also saw the famous "tomb of the diver" in the nearby museum.
In the early evening, I took the train back to Salerno, where I went to the tourist office and spent an hour talking to the woman working the desk. She called all of her friends to try to find me a place to stay, but nothing ended up working out. She also let me use the computer (all the Internet cafes had been closed), from which I sent out some very last minute couchsurfing requests for Salerno. This is not something I usually like to do, but I definitely had to sink to the level of copying and pasting requests. I even sent a request to someone with the wrong copy and pasted name. Nobody got back to me.
I wandered around Salerno into the late evening until (when walking through a random piazza) I saw a group of nice looking people (around my age) hanging out. I went up and asked them if they had any suggestions of what I should do that night, and we were soon in conversation. Turns out that they were not actually Italian, but Spanish students here for a work exchange. It was actually pretty cool to communicate with them through Italian, as it was not the first language of either of us. They ended up being architecture and film students, which certainly explained why I had been drawn to them. One of them, Antonio ended up offering me a place to stay, and I had a great home cooked meal with a big group of people before heading off to sleep. Despite a difficult start to the day, it ended eventfully, luckily and comfortably.

Day 101

2009-09-03T12:14:00.001+02:00

Amalfi Run 4, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

40 Kilometers.
In the morning my clothes were still wet, so I walked into town "human-clothesline" style and went to the grocery store. I bought a little box of cereal and some milk to eat before my run. After buying these things, I realized that I didn't have a bowl or a spoon, so I went to a nearby cafe and asked the woman if she had a plastic spoon I could use. She said no...but she had a metal one that I could use if I stayed and ate at the cafe. I said "deal," and sat down at a chair outside with my box of cereal and milk, looking pretty pathetic I'm sure. The woman brought out a giant knife for me, and looking at her puzzled like "what am I going to do with that?!" I realized that I had mixed up the words for knife and spoon. Explaining my mistake, she brought me a giant spoon and a little plastic cup, and I was able to eat my cereal. I don't think there are many restaurants that would allow someone to just come and eat their own stuff while using the cutlery and table of the restaurant...but luckily this woman was a very rare exception.
I walked a few kilometers until my clothes were dry before packing up my stuff and beginning the run to Amalfi. Turns out there are some mountains between Pompeii and Amalfi, so I got myself ready for another one of those "big hill" experiences. I basically climbed for a solid hour or more. The view was incredible though, and on side number one, I had an amazing distant view of the city and of Vesuvius. Once I had made the peak, I had an amazing view of the Amalfi coast, switchback after switchback. After about 33 kilometers of some seriously beautiful mountains I arrived in the town of Amalfi.
The whole region is beautiful...the mountains basically cut right into the sea, and there is one windy road that runs along the coast (at times only wide enough for one car). The architecture is built onto the sides of mountains, and the view is of a beautiful clear blue sea.
In Amalfi, I hung out for a bit and then went into the tourism office to ask for some advice on where I should go. The woman suggested that I continue on towards a nearby town called Maiori where there was a Franciscan Convent where I might find a place to stay. I did a little over 4 kilometers more along that windy coastal road to get there. In the church though, before I said three words the guy said "go to a hotel." He didn't seem very nice, and I wasn't about to argue.
I left and went over to the beach. I was pretty seriously tired, so I sat down on a park bench to think and regain some energy. A couple minutes later, an old man smoking a cigar sat down next to me and started talking. We talked for a while, and he kept doing creepy old man things like patting my knee ("bravo!") or doing that cheek grab thing. Didn't make me feel very comfortable, but I was thinking "eh, that's just what some people are like." He knew the guy who worked the nearby beach bar, so I went over there and took a shower and talked with them for a while. The old man (Gio) gave me his number and told me to call him in the evening to get some pizza. He also spoke with the people at the beach thing and they offered to let me sleep on their beach without problem.
Gio left, and as it got dark, I started asking some of the people there if they had any better ideas of where I could sleep. Someone gave me the name of a certain "Don Pasquale" in the next town over (who, from what I could understand ran the Boyscout center or something), so I walked the 1 Km back to Minori to see if I could find him. I found his house, but someone said that he was back in the other town for the evening, and that I should try back in an hour. I was starving, so I went and got some pizza for an hour and then came back and tried again. This time, there was nobody there (around 10 pm). I decided to sit and wait outside the gate until he came back. I didn't really know much about the guy who I was waiting for, but I figured it was worth a shot and called Gio to inform him that I wouldn't be coming back to Maiori. I really didn't want to sleep on the beach...because it meant not charging my phone and not recovering for the coming day. Also, it was getting cold...and the problem with being a runner is that I don't have much underneath my skin to keep me warm. Gio said "No no, I talked with the people, and they will give you a cabin to sleep in for the night. No problem. Just come back, a five minute walk."
Figuring that sleeping in a closet on the beach was better than nothing, I walked once more back to Maiori and met up with Gio at the beach thing. I told him that I had already eaten, but that I would grab a drink or something while I waited for the beach place to close. I didn't really know where we were going, but I followed him back to what ended up being his very large palace-like apartment (while he apologized for not having a place for me to sleep). There, he cut me a piece of cake, and I sat down on the couch to eat. He then sat next me and started talking some more, most of which I couldn't understand. At some point he asked if my clothes were dry yet (I had washed my shorts in the shower) and grabbed my shirt and then my shorts. Had I not jumped away at the appropriate time, he would have most certainly touched my "junk." It was at this point that I realized (as I had kind of suspected before) that he wasn't a friendly grandfather, but a creepy perverted old man.
"I need to go."
"Ok, I'll walk you to the beach." (I needed him to get out of the building anyways)
"Ok, whatever, but if you get near me I will break your f***ing neck." (Not said explicitly)
At the beach I said a very relieved final goodbye and was pleased to watch cigar holding old man with red purse walk off into the darkness. The nice young guy who ran the beach thing showed me where I would be sleeping and introduced me to the guy who would be watching the place, and I went over to finally go to sleep.
The place was not an inclosed cabin...it was a dirty bathroom with a beach bed in it...and it was too small to have a closed door and the beach bed at the same time. The ground was soggy with mud and urine, and I wasn't about to sleep on it without the bed. As mosquitoes buzzed around my ears and I felt the chill of the ocean air, midnight rolled around and I decided to get the hell out of there. I figured I would give this "Don Pasquale" a shot, and regardless I would end up at a place that creepy old man didn't know about.
I walked back to Minori and gave the doorbell a couple rings. Someone answered.
"Hi, my name is Ryan, and I am doing a type of world tour on foot...I arrived here today from--"
"You are looking for hospitality."
"Yes."
"Come on up."
It was amazing news, and Don Pasquale was one of the nicest, smiling guys I have met. He had a spare bed and was quick to offer me a couple cold glasses of water. Turns out that it was the parochial house, and that he was the head of the catholic church for the area. A very very nice guy, and I'm glad I didn't give up at the beach. I had a hot shower, a good conversation and a great night of sleep.

Day 100

2009-09-02T13:29:00.001+02:00

Pompei 30, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

32 Kilometers.
Three digit days. I feel insane writing "Day 100." It is the first time I have done so in my life. I have often started things (running logs, journals, routines, etc.) with the idea that I will do them for years. Somehow I always get bored or decide to do something new before the two week mark rolls around. It isn't so much that I don't stick to my goals, but more that I find better and more interesting goals along the way. On this run, I have thought up so many other goals that I want to accomplish, and often times I just want to be in the studio putting out projects...but this time I'm forcing myself to wait. I want to get as much as I can from this thing before I return to my regular life...and for me, that means pressing on to Athens.
In the past couple years, I have dried to push my own philosophy of living: I call it the "Burn Out" philosophy. Basically, I find something that I love to do (architecture, running, whatever) and I do it as much as I can as often as I can. I work through the nights and don't sleep, doing exactly that thing over and over every day. I'll do it either forever (until I reach my goal) or until I break. The idea is that if you love something enough, you should be able to tolerate it indefinitely. I push myself to find those limits of toleration, and in turn I find the things that are truly meant for me. It has been 100 days and around 3,000 kilometers since I arrived in Amsterdam, and this trip hasn't burned me out yet. I am still sucking in every minute like a fresh lemon granita on a hot Italian day, and day 100 made no exceptions.
Dave woke me up a little before ten, and we spent an hour and a half having breakfast and talking with his German neighbors (who had just had their house broken into). Around noon I got ready to leave, and so did Dave (who had decided to run with me for a couple kilometers).
We set out running through the city, down a pretty huge number of stairs and through some bustling streets until we got to the road that runs parallel to the ocean. When we were about thirty minutes in, Dave resolved that he was past the point of turning around and running home. For most people, this would indicate getting on the next train and going home, but for Dave it meant running with me all the way to Pompeii...the longest run he had ever done by 4 miles or so. I have to give the guy some serious props. He set out the door intending to run 5 kilometers, and ended up running 6 times that. When we got into Pompeii we sat down to grab a huge amount of drink and food before I said goodbye and headed into the ruins, leaving Dave to finally catch his train back home.
Pompeii is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. I don't really believe that there is anything you HAVE to see before you die (except for the back of your eyelids), but if you are ever in the area, I would really highly recommend Pompeii. I thought before going there that it would be just a few stubby walls and some couple-thousand-year-old stone dead people...but it was so much more. It is an entire city. The place is massive, and in amazing condition. Stepping through the doorways I felt like I was stepping into someones home. The architectural detailing and the colors of the frescoes are so detailed and vibrant...the place seems like it was abandoned yesterday. I was a video game character in one of those new complicated games where you can enter any building and do whatever you want. There is an excitement, like you are finding something that nobody knows about. I kept expecting to find little buried treasures lying in the dirt, despite the millions of people that have passed through before me. "Grand Theft Pompeii" was my game.
As clouds broke out in the sky and a storm headed my way, I had to start thinking about where I would sleep. I briefly contemplated painting myself grey and lying down somewhere in the ruins...but thought it might be a little difficult to sleep in a "I am getting hit by a volcano" position all night.
Instead, I headed back into town in the pouring rain (the first rain I have seen for a while) and tried to work something out. I had thought that I had a place to stay, as two people had given me contacts in Pompeii...but they both turned out to be out of town at the last minute, and I found myself in the dark with nowhere to stay. After talking to a few people in town, someone suggested that I try checking out a campsite. I said "why not" and walked back towards the ruins, where I found the office of "Camping Spartacus." There, I met the manager of the office, Orlando...and after telling him my story, he gave me a place in a camping trailer. A really nice guy who made the offer no questions asked. So ended day 100.

Day 99

2009-09-02T12:01:00.001+02:00

Me, Napoli, Vesuvio, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

Off.
I got one of the more solid nights of sleep that I have had in a while, sleeping until almost 1 pm for a good 8 or 9 hours. Before leaving the house, I added up the distance that I had put on the pair of shoes I was wearing. I had planned on taking them all the way to Bari, but they were starting to look (and more importantly, feel) pretty ratty. The grime buildup from running on oily and dirty highways had weakened the mesh of the shoes, and they were beginning to get that Bobby Hartnett hole on the outer side of the forefoot. Turns out I had put over 1,200 kilometers on them, so getting a new pair of shoes was on the list of things to do for the day.
After leaving the apartment, Dave and I walked over to the Castel Sant'Elmo, where there is an incredible view of Napoli, Vesuvius, and the surrounding cities. I love these kind of views, where you are so high up that the city becomes a map of 1:1 scale...where everything makes sense. When things are planned looking down at a table, they make the most sense from above rather than from within.
From the castle, I called Marco from Brooks who gave me the address of a nearby running shop called DM Sport where I could pick up a new pair of kicks. When I got there, Mario already knew I was coming and there was a fresh pair of Adrenalines waiting for me. Once again I had that feeling of stepping into clouds, and had an even lighter feeling when they were offered to me for free. The entire running community here in Italy has been so helpful to me...a big thank you to Marco for getting me set up with that and keeping me going. To be honest, buying a new pair of shoes would have just about destroyed my budget. 99 days is a long time to live without an income, and I've just about "run" out of money (by the way, if you are enjoying my blog and feel like pitching in a couple bucks to help me on my way, click the "help me" button on the upper right of this blog...every little bit adds a few more miles on my way to Athens, and I sure would appreciate it!).
Anyways, after getting a sick pair of flashy new kicks, Dave and I met Fergus and we went over to two of the most famous pizzerias in Napoli...that happen to be only a few hundred meters from one another. The margherita "Da Michele" is definitely worth running to Naples for.
After eating, we went to the Piazza del Plebiscito where I tried my luck at the supposedly impossible task of walking from one side to the other with my eyes closed. Something about the uneven paving is supposed to throw you off. I tried to use the strategy of running with my eyes closed (assuming that if I was moving forward faster, I would be less likely to get disoriented). This strategy didn't get me even close to the other side though. Every time Dave would tell me to open my eyes, I would be a few hundred meters in the wrong direction. After giving up (for now) we got a drink in a nearby cafe before heading back to sleep. In the morning I would be running to Pompeii, and if I wanted to get there I would have to sleep enough to do it with my eyes open.

Day 98

2009-08-30T21:09:00.002+02:00

Sleeping Place, Mondragone, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

49 Kilometers.
I woke up in Mondragone around 9, with a Polish woman who spoke no English or Italian bustling around me. Groggy eyed, I tried to explain why I was there while simultaneously coming to and accepting my surroundings. I have gotten pretty used to the feeling of waking up in an unfamiliar place...but waking up on a beach chair in an enormous dirty garage with old circus type equipment and a car that looked like it has been bombed still always gets me. Eventually I got up and went into the main beach cafe thing and got a bite to eat and charged my phone. The woman working the counter gave me a token for the shower and I quickly rinsed myself off before heading back into the center of town. I bought some credit for my cell phone and had a woman help me out with adding the minutes before hitting the road towards Napoli.
People had told me that Mondragone was sketchy...and people in Mondragone told me that Napoli was sketchy, so I didn't really know what to expect. People kept telling me to "not stop" on the way to Napoli. It was a long run, and I definitely stopped a couple times to get some water. I took the whole thing pretty slow and easy in general. The run never really seemed dangerous at all...except for the usual crazy Italian drivers and high speed roads with no place for me.
When I got to the edge of Napoli I was wiped. I stopped in a grocery store and got something to eat and drink and then ended up walking the rest of the way to Dave's apartment, a guy who I met through couchsurfing.
I had to wait a couple hours or so for Dave to get home, so I killed some time by stretching and then heading to a nearby pub for a very good beer. Dave called me just as I left the pub, and I met him around 8 at his apartment. Dave is a U.S. Marine, which naturally makes him a few times more bad**s than a normal person, so I didn't have to worry much about my stay in Napoli not being awesome.
After I took a shower we headed out to meet Dave's friend Fergus and then hit the town to get some drinks. I had a great night talking to random Italian students, drinking and eating...and around three in the morning we took a cab back home and I fell asleep in an incredibly comfortable bed in an air conditioned apartment as my change of clothes spun around in the washing machine.

Day 97

2009-08-30T02:03:00.003+02:00

Mondragone, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

47 Kilometers.
I slept comfortably and late, and woke up alone in Mal's apartment. He had gone to work early and left me there to get some things done before I headed out. I had some cereal from his huge selection of American kid cereals (Lucky Charms, Fruity Pebbles, Captain Crunch...the classics) and spent a while working on the computer, putting out a blog post and planning my next couple days. I was enjoying the peace and didn't start running until almost three o'clock.
The run towards Mondragone was long, and I took it pretty easy. I was pretty anxious for the whole run...and as I ran all these crazy thoughts were simultaneously running through my head. I was imagining gang violence and mafia scenes...and to be honest, I was pretty excited to get to where I was going. When I came into town, it was the early evening and from the way people were speaking, I was expecting gun shots and baseball bats. Instead, it was old guys sitting on the side of the street in lawn chairs in front of pizzerias. I did the safe thing and went into a pizzeria and got a couple slices. I spent some time talking with the guy who worked there. He was the same age as me, and we spoke in English. He couldn't host me, but he pointed me in the right direction of the beach, where I would more likely find people in the evening.
Somewhere it got dark and sometime I found myself near the beach. Apart from a couple people offering to sell me drugs and a slightly different feel of the city, the place really didn't resemble the nightmare that it was put out to be. I still felt like I should take the advice that I was given and not sleep outside, so I began my process of talking to random people. This time, it was in search of a store where I could add minutes to my phone. I spoke with several people, including an ex-semi-professional German tennis player before I walked into an online Poker bar (that also sold phone minutes) and asked if I could buy some credit. For some reason the credit wasn't available, but I got into conversation with all the young people that were hanging out there. Just awesome people, nice and joking all the time. They let me use one of the computers and told me to take a "shower" in the sink. I went in and wiped myself off with a towel and changed my clothes. When I emerged, one of them (Antonio) sprayed me with some Italian cologne (a lot) and I was ready to party. We looked over my blog, and everyone was excited to take the above photo. Enzo (who ran the restaurant next door) made me a mean sandwich, and as I ate, Antonio wrote my blog post for the day:

"Sono stato a Mondragone in provincia di Casserta. Sono stato accolto molto bene da tutto le persone. Infatti sono stato invitato da Enzo "Big Show" a mangiare uno buonissimo panino. Dopo sono stato nel Pokeroom di Armando, dove ho conoscuto tanti ragazzi: Alessandro "polpetta," Mario, Valerio "Sidis," e Antonio "Tropicale." In fino sono stato ospitato presso il lido Cin Cin da Gianluea "Zanna." Ora sono diretto a Napoli."

No one was really in a position to offer me a place to sleep, but the guys helped me out by talking to a man who ran a private beach/bar thing down the road. They brought me there, and I spent the rest of the evening talking to some another funny group of young people. It was someones birthday party, so people kept bringing me plates of food and birthday cake. I washed my things in a sink before going to sleep on a beach bed in a kind of sketchy garage. A man who was working there would be guarding the place all night, so I fell asleep feeling pretty safe some time around three in the morning.
The south of Italy might be famous for mafia lifestyles and crime...but I didn't see any of that. Instead, I saw the other things that this region is famous for: happy, helpful people and delicious Mozzarella di Bufala. I think I found the better part.

Day 96

2009-08-29T13:55:00.001+02:00

Run to Gaeta 3, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

37 Kilometers.
I slept until almost ten am, woke up, packed up my stuff (a pretty quick procedure), and headed into town. I had been staying in the apartment of Lino's mother (who wasn't there), so I called Lino to meet him for breakfast. We met in the same place that I had met his wife Anna Maria the night before, and I had a bite to eat and a liter and a half of water. Lino decided to run with me for 5 km or so, and we set out after noon towards Gaeta. He informed the that the first 20 km or so of my run would be fairly comfortable, with a wide shoulder and little traffic...but the last part would consist of mountain curves with no shoulder and in turn no place for me.
We had a good run together, and I just cruised on towards Gaeta. Because the number of kilometers started with a "3" I somehow considered it "a short day." So much of running is mental, and I am a big believer in trying to trick your mind into doing things that your body doesn't want to do. I often break down my runs into halfs, thirds, or hours to make it easier on me. When I get to some artificial marker that I have made I think "ok, the run is done, good job...now you just have to do the same thing again without stopping in between." I have run with artificial mental fractions for years, and it seems to get me through. Maybe I'm just bad at math, but this system definitely seems to work a lot less when there is more than 40 kilometers between me and where I want to go.
Anyways. The run was easy and straightforward, and while the roads were windy they were much less perilous than others that I have been on, and I got to run through several short tunnels. Running through tunnels is always a little bit scary, but also pretty freaking exciting.
I got into the edge of the town of Gaeta about 34 km into my run, where I stopped and decided to walk into town. I didn't realize however that my couchsurfing host Mal lived on the side of a hill at the far end of the peninsula on which the town was situated, and that I would have to add on a few more kilometers of switchback roads to get from one side of the small town to the other where he lived.
Mal is stationed in Gaeta through the Navy, and I had a very relaxed stay at his place which has an amazing view of the water. We went to a grocery store and and stocked up on stuff to eat, and had a great dinner when we got home.
In the late evening, I got a few calls from some friends from the days before, all of whom warned me about the coming days. Everyone in the north has told me to watch out down south...and in the morning I would be running down south. One friend told me to just run straight through all of Campania without stopping...almost 100 km to get to Napoli. "Whatever you do, don't sleep outdoors in Mondragone...it is a little bit...Bronx." Not stopping, however would be just as dangerous for my body as any ghetto. This night, I went to sleep on a comfortable and safe airbed, knowing that in the morning I would be running to Mondragone and that I had nowhere to sleep there.

Day 95

2009-08-27T12:40:00.001+02:00

View from Tempio Di Giove Anxur, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

50 Kilometers.
I slept for a solid 9 hours or so, and after 11 am we gathered our things and headed into Latina with Tobias. We went to a gym were Luana (who we met during the race) worked and hung out for a while waiting for Dere to meet us. We talked until around 12:30 when I said my goodbyes. Tobias and Dere were heading out to do some work and then go back into Rome, and Dan was going with them as his flight was the following morning. Luana took me on a motor scooter tour of the town and pointed out all of the rationalist fascist Architecture to me...including a building which is very clearly in the shape of an "M" for Mussolini. The entire town was basically rebuilt and renamed by the guy.
At one o'clock she dropped me off at the place where Dan and I had arrived the day before, and I met up with Mario (who I had met the night before at dinner) who had offered to accompany me 32 km or so to San Felice. Mario not only knew the way, but also knew the few places where fountains could be found for a quick water stop, so I had the rare opportunity to just run without having to worry about any of that stuff. Mario has run a 2:30 marathon, so I was pretty sure he wouldn't have a problem keeping up. We had the kind of run that you can only have with another person...the kind where you are pushing the pace but don't really want the other person to think that you are. The kind where you say:
"This pace alright for you?"
"Yeah, good for me...I mean, if it is alright for you."
"Yeah, I mean, it is definitely good for me...I mean, unless it is too fast for you of course."
We alternated the lead every 15 minutes, which made the run go by much faster. It was definitely in the nineties, and halfway into the run I could hear that wet shoe sound squeege in time with Mario's stride. Too much sweat. We averaged 6:05 mile pace for that 32 km. Not too bad for running with a backpack. Once we got into town, we walked down the main street of town for a few minutes where we hydrated and Mario bought me some awesome granita. Soon afterwards he got picked up and I started on my way to cover the next 14 km or so to Terracina.
It wasn't long before I started to get hungry, so I stopped for a sandwich and a tube of the Italian version of "Fruit Pastilles" and then walked for a while before running the last 8 km or so into Terracina.
I called Christina, who I had met the evening before, and who said she might know someone in Terracina that could help me out. She informed me that nothing had come up. I then called Mario to see if he knew anybody (I've got much better odds if I can find someone through someone who knows me). He told me he would call some people and get back to me. Waiting around, I wandered around the historic center of town, and then slowly started making my way up the hill where I had seen an awesome wall and a temple overlooking the town. I was wearing my 99 cent flip flops, but they had gotten to that point that the little thing popped out of the hole every 5 steps (that thing that cheap flip flops do). I decided to just put my running shoes back on and make a run for it. Sometimes I wake up feeling tired and unable to run in the morning and go to bed having run one of my longest days ever. This was one of those days...but when I got to the top of the little mountain, it was all worth it. The view from the top was amazing.
Mario called me back while I was on the top, and told me that I needed to go back into town and meet the wife of his friend a little after midnight. It was a little too dark and dangerous to take the little busy windy road back into town, and considering that it wasn't really a part of my "line" but a little detour, I got a ride back into the center of town with a family. I sat in the back with their probably 5 year old daughter that kept going on and on about her toy crocodile and how the crocodile was going to her house. It was pretty funny, and I enjoyed hearing a little kid pronounce "crocodile" the Italian way about 30 times in a 5 minute drive.
I got something to eat back in the center of town, and around midnight I met Anna Maria (the wife of a runner friend of Mario) who brought me to Mario's mother's apartment where I could sleep for the night. Once again, BED.

Day 94

2009-08-27T11:33:00.001+02:00

Dan, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

37 Kilometers.
In the morning Dan and I drove with Tobias and Dere to a nearby athletics store and watched them do some business before they dropped us off in Lanuvio for our run. 37 kilometers in the heat. The run was long and hot, and as almost a perfect contrast to the fountains and beautiful antique Appian way that carried us through the beginning of our run the day before, we finished our run with only one stop for water and an extended section along the side of a busy highway. Dan says "You run on roads like this?!" I respond "Eh, when I have to." The road ended up being better than it looked.
When we got into town, we went into a grocery store in search of some chocolate milk. Now there were two of us who were disappointed to see that it wasn't available. Instead of just settling for something else, we ended up getting a container of Nesquik and some regular milk. Before we had left the grocery store parking lot I had worked my way through two liters of incredibly chocolaty chocolate milk. I had to get my money's worth.
From there, we walked to a McDonald's where I used the bathroom and we sat outside on their covered park benches talking for a while. Having just come out of this radio interview with "EcoRadio," we started talking about the actual environmental implications of my run. I don't really think of running as a particularly efficient means of transportation, and unless you love to run I don't think it would be a good idea to ditch your car/bicycle/motorcycle on that cross country road trip you have been planning just for the sake of the environment. Dan brought up an interesting point (from this book "Omnivore's Dilemma" that he had read) that most or our diet (especially corn products) comes from a conversion of fossil fuels into food. We can't eat fossil fuels for energy, so we burn them to power the machinery that harvests our great corn fields, and then we use that corn to feed our proteins. Every time that exchange is made, we lose a certain amount of energy through heat or waste, and what we end up eating gives us much less energy than what we started with. With the amount of food that I eat, I'm sure that I have burned much more fossil fuels than if I had just hopped in a car and drove to Athens on a couple tanks of gas. Then again though, I'm not really just looking to go to Athens.
For me, the environmental lesson of my run is not the efficiency of human travel, but rather my own personal ability to see first hand the scale of the world. Seeing the size of this continent on my own two feet, and seeing where cities end and where mountains begin, I have developed a greater understanding of how small our world actually is. This place really is like a "Spaceship Earth." Everything we make and throw away doesn't have very far to go. The grime of Milan is only a few runs away from the mountains and crystal waters of the Alps. For me, seeing that everything REALLY is connected is one of the greatest lessons of this trip. When you take a plane or a train from one city to the next, it is easy to think of each city as its own little island. There are no such islands on this planet...everything is connected to everything. The only real island is our own planet...and if we eat all the coconuts we are going to be in some serious trouble.
I don't know how much I believe in most hippie/organic products and lifestyles...with the amount of energy and waste that goes into producing those things (things that power humans) they aren't much better than what we are used to. For me though, the good thing is that we are thinking about it. With all that soy milk burning, someone has got to come up with a good solution eventually.
Anyways, after this conversation we went to an Internet cafe where a hamster powered our computers as we fed it French fries, and when we were done we met up Tobias, Dere and a bunch of other friends and runners to have another epic refueling session. When we were done with dinner, we drove back with Andrea, and I took a shower and washed my stuff before going to sleep in the same place as the night before.

Day 93

2009-08-25T19:55:00.001+02:00

Prerace Conversation, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

31 Kilometers.
In the morning, Dan and I had some breakfast with Tobias and his kids and we drove back into town where Tobias dropped us off at the Caracalla baths, a place that I had arrived on foot (and interestingly the inspiration for the old Penn station)...and the place from which Dan and I would begin running towards Napoli. The large part of our run was along the Via Appia Antica, and we collectively marvelled at the Italian landscape and numerous Roman ruins as we hopped over giant classical paving stones. It was incredibly hot, but we were lucky to have flowing potable fountains about every 20 minutes of the run...so apart from the heat and an epic endless uphill, it was a pretty good run. The good thing about epic uphills is that they generally end in epic views and long downhills. When we hit a huge bridge in Arricia and looked over at the countryside below, it all seemed worth it.
We got into Lanuvio in the early afternoon and bought something to drink. A couple minutes later, a Brooks van pulled into the center of the tiny town and Tobias stepped out and introduced us to his friend Dereje. There was a race in a somewhat nearby town called Sabaudia this evening, so we went with them to watch the race.
We spent the rest of the day lounging around a race start (we couldn't enter because we lacked some Italian athletics card...not that we really wanted to anyways after a 31 km run) talking to some cool runners and relaxing. Dan was having some problems with his knee, and he got some ice from a camo military medic van before the race rolled around us. Dereje ended up winning, and as I smiled and shouted as he came out of the woods into the last 200 meters, I couldn't help but feel like I was at a race back home cheering on my teammates.
After everyone rinsed off with a hose and watched the awards ceremony, we drove with a group of people up to an amazing little restaurant in the mountains. We didn't even order anything, but they just kept bringing more and more food. Plates and plates kept coming out, and we shared them "family style" between 7 people or so. The food was amazing, and the meal ended with lemon gelato, limoncello and pastries. It was an epic meal that lasted into the late hours of the night. Eventually we drove back with Tobias, Dereje and Andrea to their place nearby. I took a shower, threw my stuff in the laundry and went to sleep stuffed. A couple rough nights last week sure helped me appreciate the easy ones a bit more.

Days 90-92

2009-08-24T19:06:00.001+02:00

Me in St. Peter's, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

Off.
A lot happened in Rome. One thing that didn't happen frequently enough was Internet access, so I'm going to try to catch up on those three days in one quick post. I had been to Rome once before (a time where I looked up the location of every single sculpture/painting/building that I had seen in Art Humanities and architecture classes and searched each one out)...so this time was a little more relaxed. Just kind of chilled out and worked on finding places to sleep each night. As quickly as possible, these were my three days in Rome:
90--Woke up in Paolo's apartment. Went to the dentist office where he works to use the computer and send out a few emergency couchsurfing requests. Say goodbye to Paolo. Go to Trevi Fountain to meet the infamous Dan Whitt, a fellow former Columbian athlete who came out to run with me for a couple days. Go with Dan to his hostel, where I met Ruby who was working at the desk. She wouldn't be staying in her apartment that night, so offered to let me stay there. Walked around the Colosseum and near the Roman Forum with Dan (but not through the forum...it has been recently fenced off and you have to pay to enter). Met Ruby and many backpackers (Australian and American) for dinner and good wine. Went to bed and slept for 10 hours.
91--Woke up and met Dan after 11. Went on first run in three months without backpack. 30 km or so down to the baths of Caracalla and up along the Tevere. Got called by Alfredo from couchsurfing who asked me to come and do a Radio interview for the station "EcoRadio." Rushed to the subway without showering to meet him. Drank two 1-Euro McDonald's chocolate shakes on the way. Arrived not really knowing what to expect. Walked quickly to the station while Alfredo informed me that the interview would be live and in Italian. "Hahaha." No, but really. Somehow did Radio interview (which I will try to put up for listening pleasure if I can get a hold of it). Went back to meet Dan. Went back with Dan to meet Alfredo. Went with Dan and Alfredo through town and then to his Apartment to get some dinner and see a pretty wicked view of the city. Dan went to hostel. I went to sleep.
92--Three month mark of my departure. Said bye to Alfredo, went back into town. Met Dan and walked to the Galleria Borghese. Paid a heavy price to see arguably the greatest statues that have ever been carved. Grinned for two hours looking up at marble that seemed beyond alive. Reassured myself of the greatness of Bernini. Walked with Dan to the Vatican. Entered what could almost be defined as my 7th country (city-state). Marvelled at the interior of St. Peter's and thought of the other people that have come here from Northern Europe on foot (Specifically from Amiens, Day 22). Also thought of the 1/3 scale replica that Matthijs pointed me to outside of Willemstad (Day 8) long long ago. Called up Tobias (a friend of Marco from Brooks) and went to his place with Dan. Spent the evening hanging out with his awesome kids and eating way too much food. Got a comfortable night of sleep for the third time in a row.
Through all of this I just kept thinking: I am in Rome...I can't believe I made it here. I've still got a long ways to go, but man am I looking forward to it.

Day 89

2009-08-22T01:26:00.001+02:00

Me and the Pantheon, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

52 Kilometers.
I am in a castle, a museum or an old Roman library. It is an awesome place, like in a mystery novel...and I am wandering through on some adventure looking for a bathroom. Stepping around a corner in the dim light, I do not notice the step below. I understep and lose my balance. I collide with the ground but suddenly realize that it is not castle floor that I have hit. I have collided with the hard earth, waking up suddenly to realize that I have fallen off my high stone park bench. I am not in a romantic castle. It is 6 a.m. and I am lying on the ground in a public park in Marina di Cerveteri.
I hadn't slept much at all, but I knew that I needed to take off. Today was going to be one of the hottest days yet, and it would be good if I could make it out of town in the early morning. I gathered my things and set out on the road towards Rome. The first 6 km were pretty slow, as I had not really fully woken up and I actually desperately needed to find a bathroom. Once I had found something to eat and a bathroom though, I was ready to run and clicked off a solid two hours or more.
Two hours of running was my line today. I am pretty good about running while being sleep deprived...my years at Columbia of being an architecture student and an athlete prepared me for this part of the trip. I would sleep for two hours and then have to do a two hour progression run at the Rockies. I couldn't say "Sorry I can't go, I'm tired" then...and I definitely can't say it now. But two hours of running was my line today though. The sun wore me down, and I stopped in a grocery store to grab something to drink before walking the rest of the way into the city. The road was a bit crazy, and I definitely had to hop over some highway barriers and run along some very busy sections on occasion. I made it though, and now...now I am in Rome.
When I got into town, I called Tobias, a friend of Marco who works for Brooks. Originally I had planned on staying with him, but he was away on vacation. He tried to find some of his friends...but they were all on vacation too. Everyone was on vacation. John (who's mom I stayed with in Milan) gave me a huge list of people he knew in Rome. All of them seemed to be on vacation too. The whole city was gone. I had been sure I would find a place...but it seemed rather unlikely now.
By some miracle however, Paolo from near Orbetello was coming into town late at night for an appointment he had in the morning (he is a dentist)...and once again he hooked me up with a comfortable place to sleep for the night. Until I met him, the rest of the day was pretty uninteresting. I fell asleep in the park inside of the Castello S. Angelo and spent some time in an Internet cafe.
Around midnight I walked 5 km or so to the north side of town to meet up with Paolo at his apartment. It was pretty strange seeing someone that I had seen 4 days before. Those days in between had been pretty rough, but here I was...in Rome and with a bed. It was glorious.

Day 88

2009-08-21T18:32:00.001+02:00

Very hot Run, Day 88, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

40 Kilometers.
I woke up around 6 am with the head of a train breathing in my face. The conductor was looking at me. I felt pretty awkward.I got up and went back into town where I found the laundromat that I knew would be open at 6. I changed into my pants and jacket, put in my clothes, plugged in my phone and fell asleep as my clothes spun around. I woke up briefly to put them in the dryer and then went back to sleep, staying in the place until around 10 or 11 am. From there I went to the "Seaman's Center" Internet cafe (Civitiavecchia is a big port town) where I ate breakfast and did some work on the computer. Before setting out on my run, I spent a few minutes on a park bench applying sunscreen and organizing my stuff. I was beginning to emit a very serious homeless dude vibe.
I set out in the direction of Ladispoli in the mid afternoon during one of the hottest days of summer. Around 40 minutes I felt like death, but found a magical waterfountain that restored my health and allowed me to keep running until the 2 hour mark rolled around and I stopped in a town 4 km before Ladispoli. People in Civitiavecchia had told me that Ladispoli was pretty dangerous, so I decided to give where I was a shot. It was getting late, and the Marina di Cerveteri seemed like a safer stop. I went to a pastry shop and bought some Powerade and water and then had some spinach pizza thing before trying to make something happen.
I wandered around town for a while, and followed the direction of some runners towards the beach, where there was a 1 km straightaway that people were running back and forth on. I had already run about thirty kilometers to get to where I was, and I was also starting to get some serious chafing...but I decided to try the "find a runner" approach once again. I would find a runner or group of runners, run up along side them and say "This is strange but..." and tell them my story. I met a lot of runners, and covered some more kilometers running next to people, trying to let them see that I was a normal guy and hoping they might offer me a shower or a place to sleep. No dice. One guy seemed pretty nice, and was talking to me about all sorts of things...about marathons that he has run in the US, etc. I was giving him advice on form and kind of pacing him (he was panting in an attempt to finish 10 km at 5:00 pace). I jogged next to this guy for 8 km helping him through his "workout"...at the end of it, I was sure that he would be up to help me out...to let me sleep in his garage, or at least call a friend for me. Instead, he said goodbye and left me on the street. "You're welcome for the workout."
I joined another guy, who couldn't help me out. He had a wife and seemed a little bit afraid. I would also be afraid of a scrawny kid like me. He did point me in the direction of the nearby church...but it was 9 pm when I got there and everything was closed up and locked. It was a huge complex with several buildings and community gathering spaces, so I called the number on the gates to see if someone might be willing to help out. After the second time I called, a woman answered:
"Hello, I am an American who arrived here on foot from Amsterdam, and tomorrow I am running to Rome and the Vatican...but I need somewhere to rest for the night. A man told me that I could find help here. Is this true?"
"No. No. Absolutely no. Goodbye."
"Thanks, Goodnight."
From there I started walking back towards the center of town. I found a girl speaking American English to her mother on a balcony, and stopped to tell her my story. She brought me back to the church to see that it was in fact closed and that nobody would help me there. She didn't have any space for me, but offered me a towel and a reclining beach chair that I could take with me to sleep in the park with. I said "Thank You" and that I would come back for it if I found nothing. I was hungry, so I went into a nearby kebab place to grab something to eat. I ordered a kebab wrap and a bottle of water. Somewhere along the line I got to talking to the guy who was working there, and he offered me what I was eating for free. He had come here from Romania and had seen some difficult times early on...he knew a little bit about how I was feeling. I said that I couldn't accept...but he wouldn't let me pay, and before I left he handed me a bag with two more kebab sandwiches and two bottles of water. Way too much food, but I ended up working my way through it before the end of the night.
I talked with so many people that night...but none of them resulted in a place to stay. There are many reasons that make Italy a difficult place to find places to stay. Many people live with their parents until very late in life, and afterwards they live with their wives. I don't know how stable these relationships are, but it seems that people and are always afraid to make them upset. The other problem for me is general fear and distrust. Here, things go wrong all the time...things break down, stores close when they like, roads are falling apart, etc. You just can't have much in terms of expectations. People lose trust in the world around them, and in turn they lose trust in others. Guys twice my size seem afraid of me. It is nuts.
Some time after midnight, after talking to around thirty people, I decided to call it a night and head towards the beach. When it gets late and I have talked with too many people, I just can't do it anymore. I feel like a broken record, and that whatever I am saying is no longer really me...that even if the person allows me into their home, that there isn't time to forge a real connection. I did pass one more group of kids before completely giving up. They ended up offering me a shower (which was very important for running the next day, considering my chafing), and I went out to sleep near the train station. I went out to the farthest bench and fell asleep. It was cold and trains kept whizzing by incredibly quickly. Around 4:30 I got up and spent some time trying to find a better place. I wish I had a record of all the places I climbed on top off, fences I hopped and places I walked through searching for a better place to sleep in the tired haze of that early morning. I didn't find much, and eventually settled for a high stone bench in a small park on the edge of town. This whole sleeping on benches thing was starting to get me down, but there was one thing that kept me smiling: I would be in Rome tomorrow.

Day 87

2009-08-19T21:38:00.001+02:00

Run Day 87, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

37 Kilometers.
I managed to stay on the park bench until after 10 am, falling in and out of sleep...despite how sketchy I looked to all the people who were passing by, all wrapped up in my silver sheet. I finally got up and spent a good several hours making loops around town trying to find a new tube of sunblock. At some point during this process I also went to a campground where I snagged some liquid soap from the bathroom and took a long, hot and free shower. I think it was around 3 pm when I finally headed out of the Montalto Marina towards Civitiavecchia.
Once again I had the problem of the Via Aurelia being too big to run on. I also once again had the dilemma of having two roads which would be perfect for taking me where I was going...except for the fact that they weren't connected on my map. When I got to the end of the first road, I stopped to ask a farmer how I could get to the next road. It was impossible by car he said, as there was a river in between ("a small river" he said after seeing the distressed look on my face). I just had to run down the country road for a while, turn in to the beach, take of my shoes, cross the river/stream where it connected with the ocean, put my shoes back on and keep running. That is what I did, and in the early evening I arrived in Civitiavecchia.
I stopped in a "Subway" and got dinner, mainly because they had free wifi. I ordered my usual "Italian BMT"...except for here it was just called "BMT." After going through my messages on my phone and reading many encouraging birthday wishes (thanks guys!) I set out to try to make some magic happen. I went down towards the water, where I saw a pretty serious looking guy run by (with expensive looking running gear). There was not much time to let this guy pass by and say "eh, the next one"...so despite the fact that I had already changed into my 99 cent flip flops, I started running after him. I have gotten used to going with the moment...I figured, if this guy is a serious runner, he will most likely have some pity on me and help me out. Turns out (despite the fancy gear) that he wasn't a very fast runner...and after catching him in flip flops and running and talking comfortably next to him for around 5 min. he pointed to a random fishing building and suggested that I "just sleep there." I kindly let him run on into the sunset and went back into town.
At some point I passed by some kind of beach gym where there were guys in cycling outfits, and I stopped by and told them my story. The woman who was running the shop let me take a quick cold shower before locking up the shop and giving me some fruit, croissants and permission to sleep on the sand in front of the gym.
After some more loops and some more dead ends, I went into an Irish Pub (they always feel welcoming) and ordered a beer. I worked my way through that and 5 bottles of water before finding the right moment to ask some advice on a place to stay. They gave me the usual response in this part of Italy: "try the train station or beach." There were a lot of people there though that were friends of the bartender, so after my story got out I spent the rest of the night talking and answering questions while desperately hoping that someone would make the offer that would make my night. When one a.m. rolled around, nothing had come my way, I was starting to fall asleep in my chair. One of the barmaids suggested that I go to the back of the bar and sleep (still sitting upright) on one of the more comfortable and discreet chairs. I don't know how long I slept, but it was hot and I was constantly in and out of awareness...I was pretty terribly tired. At some point I gave up on sleeping and re-entered the conversation. Around 3, the head bartender said he would let me sleep on the floor in the bar's outdoor terrace. When the bar finally closed up shop, I laid down using my backpack as a pillow. It wasn't ten minutes before a group of guys having an incredibly stupid argument decided to halt their conversation ten feet from where I was. One of the guys had a voice that sounded like Andre the Giant crossed with a teenage girl (impossible to imagine), and kept repeating "Un Euro!" loudly. After this went on for about a half an hour I calmly gathered my things and headed over to the train station to find a different place to sleep. I bought a Ritter Sport from the vending machine, and ate it as I headed out to the furthest bench on the furthest platform. I pulled out my space blanket and christened yet another bench "home."

Day 86

2009-08-18T14:04:00.001+02:00

In the Dark on the Beach, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

43 Kilometers.
A.K.A. Day 8,035. My 22nd Birthday.
I woke up in the morning in a comfortable bed and went upstairs, where Paolo and his family sang the "Happy Birthday" song. I ate breakfast and spent a few hours on the computer getting caught up on my posts. Italy isn't quite as computer friendly as the rest of the countries I have visited, and due to some Big Brother policies you have to give your passport information to access a wifi hotspot or an Internet cafe.
Paolo and I had lunch together, and after saying goodbye to his family, he dropped me off near Ansedonia at the point we had run to the evening before. From there I set out towards Montalto di Castro, on a small and straight country road that ran parallel to the Via Auralia (which is a freeway in this part of the country).
The parallel road ended in Pescia Romana, so I stopped there to figure out what I would do to continue on. The country road that I had planned on taking (from looking at Paolo's map) wasn't anywhere on my cell phone's maps...so I took the plunge and ran 5 km along the Auralia until I hit the next parallel road. It actually wasn't that bad...I spent that 5 km running on top of a wide concrete curb, taking some awkward steps over gaps and around poles and turning my shoulder in every time a big truck drove by. I got into Monalto di Castro a little before 6 pm. The place was pretty much a ghost town, and apart from some short conversations with people here and there and some calls from family members, it was getting off to be a pretty lonely day.
Someone recommended that I go to the marina town 4 or 5 km away (there would be more people there), so around 8 I set off to add a little bit more to my mileage for the day. It was dark when I got into town, and I was getting hungry.
Not wanting to eat by myself on my birthday, I went up to a pair of girls about my age and said: "Have you eaten dinner yet?" A pretty up front way of approaching someone, but I didn't have anything to lose. They looked at me like I was crazy, but after explaining that I was in town alone on my birthday and that I just wanted to eat dinner with some people, they accepted and we went to a nearby pizzeria to grab something to eat. I had a big "Birra Moretti" and we spent an hour or two talking over dinner. When we finally got to the "where do you sleep?" dilemma, I learned that neither of them were from the town, and lived almost an hour away by car. The best they could do was show me where the public beach was. They left from the beach around midnight, and I fell asleep for a half hour (the beer/marathon combo had hit me hard) before forcing myself up to talk to some more people. It was my birthday, and despite how tired I was, I was going to put my remaining energy into trying to make something happen. Paolo had sent me a text message offering to come and pick me up for the night, but it didn't really make sense to me to have him drive an hour out to find me and then an hour in the morning to drop me off again.
I went to a nearby beach bar and ordered a Coke. I don't even like Coke...but it was really the only thing that I could order that wouldn't kill me immediately. One of the guys who was working there refused to plug my (dead) phone into one of the many unused outlets behind the bar. I downed the last swallow and headed out on my way.
I went to another bar and ordered another Coke, and for the first time I got completely shut out when I tried to join a group of people:
"Can I sit here?"
"No, get out of here."
"But...but...it is my birthday."
"Get out of here."
Nice Italian dudes. I forced a smile and went to go drink my coke alone on the beach. Around 2 or 3 in the morning, I walked back past the first bar that I was in...where another (nicer) bartender was locking up shop. I explained my situation to him, and he said that I could probably sleep in one of the hammocks that were on the beach. I took him up on the offer, took off my shoes and laid down to fall asleep...sand below and stars overhead.
At 4:30 a street cleaning crew passed by and started making all sorts of racket a few feet away from me. Not really able to sleep, and knowing that some employee of the beach bar was going to wake me up in an hour or so anyways, I started stumbling around the ghost town looking for another alternative. I was pretty hungry, and found a pastry shop with a door open on the edge of town. It was not open yet, but the guy sold me something anyways. I walked along the side of the beach for a little bit and stumbled through a carnival that was closed for the night before finding a park bench in the woods. It was just about long enough to fit my body, so I pulled out my space blanket and christened it "Home" for the rest of the night.

Day 85

2009-08-16T12:30:00.001+02:00

I'm on a Boat., originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

12.5 Kilometers.
In the morning, we went drove out to the harbor and spent the day on Paolo's brother's speedboat. It went fast, and in a matter of minutes we were at a nearby island where we stopped to go swimming in the beautiful clear water. All day we ate, drank and swam...every once and a while moving the boat to a new location on another part of the island to swim in some different water. This was definitely some of the nicest water I have been in, and the island was also pretty incredible. It had an old castle, and in many places there were steps cut into the stone to go down to the water. I also finally had some time to work on making my backpack and sockline tan a little bit less harsh. It was an amazing last day being 21 years old, and I just had to marvel at where I was and how I got there.
In the evening, we came back in and docked the boat, and Paolo and I prepared for a little run. He wanted to go out for a little bit, and I wanted to knock a few miles off of the next day (and get my legs moving a little bit to better recover from the day before)...so I Kenyan shuffled the 12 km up the other side of the peninsula with Paolo before dark, where his sister picked us up and drove us back.
His mom made an incredible dinner, and I ate a pretty incredible amount of food as well. After dinner Paolo went to sleep (pretty wiped out) and I spent the evening talking to his mother, who is a pretty incredible woman. She was born in Russia, and moved to Tehran when she was a baby. Refusing her arranged marriage at 10 years of age, she went to Sicily to take singing lessons. She ended up singing in New York, and meeting her husband with whom she eventually moved to Rome. Now she paints (and had a piece in the Venice Biennial long ago) and cooks and keeps a garden. We talked until late, and around two am I went to sleep...technically on my birthday.

Day 84

2009-08-16T12:06:00.001+02:00

Finally on the road, Day 84, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

55.2 Kilometers.
I woke up after a good night of sleep and walked out to meet Stefano and Ella's parents Libero and Tina who had set out some stuff for me to eat. Tina gave me my laundry that she had washed and dried, and as I checked out my socks I noticed that there were no longer holes in the toes. Tina had actually mended my socks. Not only had I had a great dinner with some awesome people and a comfortable place to sleep...but I also got my laundry done and my socks repaired. I definitely know very few people who would bother to repair their socks...I think Italians are much less prone to just throw something away when it starts having problems. Regardless, it was awesome.
Stefano drove me back to where I had left with Ella the day before, and I spent the early afternoon doing some work in an Internet cafe and getting a bite to eat. I started running towards Orbetello around 2 pm, where I had found a place to stay through couchsurfing.
It was supposed to be a pretty straightforward 43 km down the Via Auralia...but when I got to it, it wasn't the same two lane country highway that I had been on before, it was a 4 lane freeway with a clear "no pedestrians" sign. I started running down it anyways, but after a couple kilometers I started feeling pretty unsafe. Running is not very fun when you have to step off the road every couple of seconds to let a semi pass by.
I decided to take first exit and try to find another way to Orbetello. There was a system of country roads that would take me there, running almost parallel to the Auralia, and the road that I was on just about connected the two. The key word there is "just about," so I ran 5 km down small country road really hoping that I could make the connection between where the road ended on my map and the main road I needed to be on to get to Orbetello. After missing my turn and having to add on an extra mile to get back where I needed to be, I got to the end of the dirt road on my map. I was at the top of a hill, and there was about a half mile between me and the road below. This half mile was through a farm, and right in the middle there was a strip of green that most likely meant a river that I would have to cross. Not really having another option, I hopped the fence into someones farm and made a run for it. I had to climb through some serious bushes to get down to the river bed (which was amazingly mostly dried up) where I spent 15 minutes picking stickers out of my shorts, and then another couple minutes tweezing splinters from the stickers out of my fingers. Eventually I emerged triumphantly on the road again and set off running towards Orbetello.
The climbing through the bushes had made me tired a little bit sooner than normal, so at 20 km I stopped in a tiny town called Montiano and bought a liter and a half of water. I drank it all and was still a little bit thirsty. I have no idea how I can fit three liters of water in my stomach, but I did...and I even kept running afterwards. This detour had added a lot to my mileage for the day, so I had to keep up the pace to get to Orbetello before too late.
Around 4 Paolo gave me a call and asked where I was at, I told him about my detour and how I would be arriving a little bit later than planned. A few kilometers later, a car pulled over on the side of the road and Paolo introduced himself. He cycles around the area pretty frequently, and had known exactly where I was. He gave me directions to get to his place and set off towards home. His place was not in Orbetello, but another 10 km or so away down a peninsula. It was going to be a long run.
I stopped once more after another 20 km and grabbed a banana and some liquid before struggling through the last several kilometers to Paolo's house. It was a 55.2 kilometer day, and I was tired and concerned about some pain that I have been having near my ankle.
I had some fruit with Paolo's family and took a shower before Paolo and I had some pesto and wine for dinner. As we at this amazing pesto (made from scratch by Paolo's mom) I used a bottle of frozen liqueur to chill my ankle.
Paolo proposed that I take a day off to go out boating with he and his brother and some some friends, and after thinking about it for a while, I accepted. I have a friend from my cross country team coming out to meet me in Rome for a few days, and if I took off a day we would most likely arrive at the same time.

Day 84

2009-08-16T10:51:00.001+02:00

Italian Line Dancing, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

23 Kilometers.
I woke up baking under a hot sun...it had been cool when I fell asleep, so I had left my long black pants on. I was also lying on a reflective space blanket, which wasn't really helping to keep me cool either.
I gathered my things and started stumbling down the beach towards the Marina of Grosseto, a little less than halfway to the town I wanted to be in by the end of the day. I stopped in a beach shower/restaurant thing to take a shower, shave and change my clothes. I got something to eat and set out running towards Grosseto feeling fresh. The run was not incredibly exciting, but it was short.
In Grosseto I had the name and address of another running store, and I was really banking on another runner having some sympathy for me...but when I got there my dreams were shattered by a sign that informed me that the place was closed for the August vacation that is almost like a religious holiday here.
From there, I went into the center of town and started looking for potential places to sleep if nothing fell in my lap: I walked around a pretty cool castle that I could definitely storm at night if I needed, and tested the grass by falling asleep on it for an hour so. I went to a pretty amazing exhibit at the museum of Etruscan artifacts and spent an hour or so marvelling at the craft of some of these things that had been made almost 3,000 years ago. I couldn't sleep in the museum though.
I was feeling pretty hopeless, and in the evening I started to feel hungry...so as I passed by the "Irish Soul" pub, I decided to stop in to see if there was an Irish breakfast on the menu. There wasn't, and the two women at the door informed me that the place was actually closed for the evening. There was a soccer match between Grosseto and Roma, and they were not allowed to sell alcohol until after midnight. I started conversation with Ella and Robbie, and they invited me in to sneak a beer. The bar is awesome...and has the feel of a real pub. It is built into one of the old storage areas in the castle walls, and has enormous vaulted stone ceilings. At the end of our beers, Ella and Robbie started heading out to close up shop. They asked me what I was doing for the rest of the evening, and when I explained my scenario Ella quickly offered me a place to sleep. It was some of the best news I had ever heard.
We went back to her place, where I met here brother and her mom and dad (who was walking around in his underwear). I took a shower, and then headed out with Ella and her brother Stefano to meet some friends for a drink and dinner. We drove out of town and spent the evening at a small town party eating freshly made gnocchi and ribs while listening to folky Italian music and watching people line dance. After having a pretty rough time the night before, it was a perfect confirmation of why I have this crazy rule for myself.
Around midnight I said goodbye and Stefano drove me home and I quickly fell asleep, once again extremely grateful for the hospitality that I have received.

Day 83

2009-08-16T10:16:00.001+02:00

Cala Violina 4, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

45.4 Kilometers.
Someone back in Reggio had informed me that there was a beautiful beach between Follonica and Castiglione della Pescaia that I absolutely had to stop at, and in "Music and Run" many people told me the same thing. The place is called Cala Violina, and it is supposedly one of the nicest beaches in Italy, accessible only by foot down 4 km or so of dirt road. While getting there meant complicating my route a little bit, it seemed worth it, even if many of the roads I would have to take didn't appear on any map.
The directions were pretty clear to Cala Violina, and it was a beautiful 11 km to the bay. I arrived in the early afternoon and spent a few hours just chilling at the beach. It is an incredibly beautiful place with clear water, but despite the fact that it is not accessible by car, there was still a huge amount of people laying out on the beach. I escaped the crowd by climbing around to a more rocky part of the bay where there was literally nobody. As I fumbled through the water with my shoes around my neck and my backpack on, I was really hoping that I wouldn't fall in. It would really suck if all my stuff fell in the water. Luckily it didn't, and after a beautiful afternoon at the beach I set out (walking at first to let myself dry off) towards the town of Punta Ala, where I would need to find some connection over the hills/mountains to get to the road to Castiglione on the other side. Of course, there was no connection on my map over these hills, only two squiggly roads that ended in the general direction of Castiglione. To me, a squiggly road means hill...so if this road went up the hill and then happened to continue in real life where it dead-ended on my map, I could make the connection to the other side of the mountains towards Castiglione. Of the two squiggly roads up the hills, I took the one that was closest to me. Before it ended, there was an dirt road that branched off up the hill, so I figured I could probably take that up and over to the other side. Eventually though, the dirt road turned into a tiny trail, and then turned into some kind of animal footpath, which eventually turned into nothing. I hiked for about an hour through the bushes up this mountain, hoping to get over the top and down the other side. When I got to the top however, the forest got so thick that there was no way I could pass through it. I had already done so much forest romping (which was a little bit more uncomfortable after Tristan told me about how many olive farmers here die from vipers who nest in trees), but now I had to turn around and do it all again in reverse. At least the view was nice.
When I got back to Punta Ala at the bottom, I asked a man at a golf course if he knew where the trail to Castiglione was...he said it was down the other squiggly road, but that it has been blocked off for years. He suggested that I run back towards Cala Violina and get on the main road...but that meant another 20 km that I really didn't want to do. So, instead, I made my way to the other squiggly road, which was in fact walled off with a "attenti al cane" sign. Not really certain that this road would connect anyways, I started running down the street to see if there was another road. Along the way I met an awesome Nigerian lady who explained to me in English that while the path is walled off, the dog sign was for a different place, and that if I went through the bushes just to the left of the gate, I would find a hole in the fence. That was just the hint I needed, so around 7 pm I went through the fence and up the hill, and where the road ended on my map one of the most beautiful roads I have ever run began. The road was wide and made of dirt, and I had it all to myself. The sun was low as I rounded the sides of these hills and cliffs with the ocean far below. After climbing over a huge gate to get out of the place on the other side, I got back onto the charted roads and made my way to Castiglione.
Castiglione della Pescaia is an awesome medieval town, with castle walls and a nice beach. I spent the evening walking around on my lonesome, getting some pizza to eat and enjoying an amazing sunset from the top of the town...looking back towards the lighthouse that I had passed by on the lost trail only an hour before.
Eventually, I went into an Irish pub and started making come conversation with the (Italian) guys who were running it. After a bunch of false leads it was getting close to midnight and I was getting tired. I left the bar and started making conversation with other groups of young people, all of which ended in nothing, except for one guy (who I guess also worked at the Irish pub) who said that he could give me a place...but that he was going out until after 4 am, and that he would give me a call when he got home. I gave him my number and set out to make something else happen in the meantime. Nothing happened, so somewhere around 1 am I found a chair on the beach and laid down, thinking I would sleep for a few hours until Michael called me.
The problem with all the beaches in Castiglione is that they are all pretty much private, so you aren't really allowed to just go sleep wherever you want...but many people told me that the worst thing that would happen was that someone would wake me up around 6 when the place opened and kindly ask me to leave. That was fine for me, so I broke out my space blanket, wrapped up my legs and fell asleep.
I woke up suddenly in my bed...in an earthquake. It took me a few seconds to realize that I wasn't actually in my bed, and there wasn't actually an earthquake going on...I was homeless on a beach in Italy and an angry old man was beating my chair with a rake. I kindly apologized: "I'm so sorry, I was just walking by and sat down for a second and fell asleep...I just happened to have this large silver blanket with me as well." I also asked what time it was, to which he angrily responded "4:30!"
I staggered back into town and sat down on a park bench until 5 am, waiting for this guy to call. He never called. From there, I went to the only place that was open, a kebab place surrounded by kids about my age coming back from the same party. I talked with them for about an hour, but none of them had a place for me...they suggested that I go to a nearby cafe for people who are going out sailing (that opened early) to get something to eat and charge my phone. This I did, and around 7 am I started zombie walking towards Grosseto...it was a short day I figured, so I could just start heading over there and see if something happened on the way.
I made it about 4 km (feeling pretty terrible) before I walked out to the beach, spread out my space blanket and fell asleep.

Day 82

2009-08-14T13:20:00.001+02:00

Magic Shirt, Follonica, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

29.2 Kilometers.
In the morning, I went with Elena to the center of Suvereto, and we had breakfast together in the pretty cool medieval town. My breakfast consisted of yogurt and "focaccia with olives" that ended up being a very odd sweet bread with grapes (my mistake). I drove back to San Vincenzo with Elena, said my goodbyes and started off towards Follonica. The run was direct and along the Via Aurelia.
After grabbing something to eat and drink at a supermarket and briefly checking my email in and Internet cafe, I headed towards the center of town to seek out a running shop. Marco (from Brooks) emailed me a list of a few running shops around Italy, so I decided to go to this one and see if I could potentially find something to do and somewhere to sleep.
At "Music and Run" (a running shop that originally also sold CD's) I met Ferruccio, who was quick to offer me a place to sleep in the store for the night, and who got me a pass to use one of the nearby beach showers.
Apart from spending some time walking around the town/doing my laundry/getting food, I spent most of my afternoon and evening in the store, talking to customers and friends of Ferruccio.
The highlight of the day was definitely Ferrucio's attempts present (and sell) this new magic shirt that increases your balance. Supposedly the shirt has some mineral which emits infrared signals to the brain and encourages greater balance. Ferruccio would make a person stand on one leg and then apply pressure on their arms until they lost their balance. Then he would put the shirt around their neck and do the same thing...and the person would stay standing. He did it to me, and I watched him do it to many other people...and I am still not really sure if I believe it or not. I would love to see an actual scientific explanation of the stuff, if it exists. Regardless, a lot of people bought the shirt.
Around midnight I went across the street to a gelateria/cafe to use the bathroom. Ferruccio introduced me to the woman who was working there, and she gave me a free gelato. Afterwards, Ferruccio closed up shop and gave me the key. I locked myself in and slept on the bench that people sit on to try on shoes. It was actually pretty cool.

Day 81

2009-08-14T12:37:00.002+02:00

San Vincenzo Beach, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

31 Kilometers.
I woke up around 7 am cold and with a serious need to pee. I left Tristan sleeping on the floor and ran over to the train station to go to the bathroom. Before leaving the station I fell asleep sitting upright in the waiting room for a few minutes while waiting for myself to warm up. At 7:20 I went over to wake up Tristan, and we went to a nearby cafe to get something to eat together. At 8:30, the laundromat opened up, and we changed into our pants and jackets and threw all of our stuff in the washing machine. As the stuff washed and dried, I slept sprawled out on the floor and Tristan slept sitting upright in a chair with his mouth open. When everything was done, we walked a few kilometers out of town, to the beach and then to a campground to take showers and have our last lunch together. Those things happened quickly, and around 2 pm I said goodbye to Tristan (who was heading back to Pisa on the train) and set off towards San Vincenzo on a forest path that lasted about 5 km before I had to get back on the Via Aurelia, which I will be on and off of until I get to Rome.
I when I got into town, I ran straight through to the other side to the COOP supermarket to get something to drink. After recuperating I walked down to the beach and spent the afternoon wading through crowds of people hoping for something to happen. When nothing really happened I went back into the center of town and started doing the same thing around the street market that lined the main street. Around 7 pm, while heading down to check out a pier, two girls about my age approached me and asked if I spoke English. I happened to speak English just fine. They were looking for something interesting do to (and so was I) so we went together to a bar that Paolo (Livorno) had recommended. They were Swiss, and I had run pretty close to where they lived, so we talked through drinks and then a quick dinner. They were camping nearby, and ended up running out in a panic to catch their bus back to the campground around 10 pm. So there I was, at 10 pm alone and with nowhere to sleep.
I went back to a shop that I had been with them earlier, and asked the guy if he had a suggestion for me. He had a friend who ran one of the nearby baths that I could probably take a shower at, but when I got there the people who were running the place told me that he was asleep. I spent the rest of the night (until after midnight) telling random people on the street my story and asking for a place to sleep. Eventually I bought a coke and sat down with some young people who were sitting outside of a bar. I explained what I was doing, and we talked for a long time. I heard many of the same propositions for public places where I could sleep, and was pretty sure that I would end up in one of them. When the night got late, and my eyes started drooping, Elena offered me a place to stay in a nearby town called Suvereto. We hung out around San Vincenzo for a while more, and then made the drive to Suvereto where her parents had already prepared a sofa bed for me. Divine.

Day 80

2009-08-12T02:08:00.001+02:00

Ocean Road to Cecina, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

41.3 Kilometers.
Tristan and I slept pretty late, waking up a little before noon to warm bread that one of Paolo's roommates had brought us. Tristan and I walked almost 9 km from the north side of town down towards Cecina. When we started running, I went out ahead (my legs were starting to miss running at my own pace) to scope out the roads and town before Tristan got in.
The run was beautiful but difficult, over some rolling hills and cliffs above the ocean. Some of the views were amazing, but because so many people were flocking to the beach any potential extra place on the road for runners was occupied by parked motorcycles.
I got into town in the early evening, and completely wiped I did my usual "drink various liquids until you feel like you need to puke" routine. From there I found an Internet cafe and checked my emails and uploaded my photos, waiting for Tristan to arrive.
When Tristan got in (after also keeping up a pretty good pace) we started wandering around hoping for something to fall in our laps. We soon realized that it is not very probable for one object to randomly fall in two laps at the same time.
The good news was that there was a parade in town that evening, and that the streets were full of people. The bad news was that we had to pay a 6.50 admission fee just to be in the middle of town...and that we didn't yet have a place to sleep.
After getting a quick bite to eat, we went around talking to whoever might be willing to talk to us while simultaneously watching the same handful of floats make loops around the city. Pretty much everyone just told us to go sleep on the ocean or in the train station. We talked to so many people...but kept coming up short. I was starting to get pretty tired, and after talking to more people than I have ever approached in a day, we found ourselves homeless around 1:30 in the morning. Having a tall silent guy standing behind you while you are asking for a place to sleep definitely seemed to make things a bit more difficult than usual. After spending a few minutes in a bar charging my phone, we decided to make one last loop through town and walk the 2 km out to sleep on the beach. Before leaving town, we approached that last group of people to be found on the street, sitting on a stoop in front of a restaurant. They ran the restaurant, and after some talking they let us brush our teeth and use the bathroom, and gave us permission to sleep on the pavement in their dining terrace in the middle of the street. It was covered and surrounded by hedges, so we figured it was just about as good as a room, and we said goodnight and sprayed one another with "Off!"...finally falling asleep on our concrete bed pretty close to 3 am.

Day 79

2009-08-12T01:31:00.001+02:00

Castle Party, Livorno, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

28 Kilometers.
I woke up around 8:35 to the sound of my phone ringing. It was Marco from Brooks checking if I was ready to run. I guess I'm always just about ready to run, so we decided to meet a little after nine in a piazza near the house. By the time I had really woken up and got dressed I was just about late, so I said goodbye to the family and set out the door with Filippo and Tristan (who set out ahead of me towards Livorno). After a few minutes in the piazza and a couple calls and mixed up meeting locations, a Brooks van pulled into the piazza and I finally met Marco and his wife. Marco had all sorts of running stuff in the van that he offered me, but showing him my baggage, he quickly realized that I couldn't really add much to what I had. Around 9:30 Marco and I set out towards Livorno and took the run easy...spending some time talking about past races, experiences etc. Marco has finished three Ironmans, which is pretty badass. Along the run we passed by a US Military base, and I was technically 2 feet away from American soil (all the gates were closed though). I also got my first view of the ocean since Holland. It was big and flat but I couldn't see New York.
When we got into Livorno we got something to drink together and met up with Tristan. Marco's wife picked him up and Tristan and I headed into town together. I called up Paolo, who we had met with Angela in Empoli. He didn't pick up the phone so we headed out to get some lunch and spend some time swimming in the ocean. We briefly contemplated swimming out to an island offshore, but after talking to a local that told us that it was terribly dangerous and there was nothing interesting there, we decided against it (the dangerous part obviously wasn't what deterred us).
In the late afternoon we headed back into the center of town and started wandering around the Venetian festival that was going on, walking along the canals and looking at little stands with things that we couldn't buy. Tristan wasn't willing to add a two foot stone model of the David to his backpack.
Paolo sent us a text message telling us that he was at work, and that he would meet us at 11 in the Venetian quarter in a place called "Il Refugio." Eventually we found it, and had some beers before meeting Paolo (and Angela) and his friends around midnight. The streets were packed, and we spent the night having drinks and meeting some hilarious people. On one occasion someone introduced me to his sister by saying "This is my sorell." When I don't know an Italian word, just throw on an extra vowel at the end of an English word and hope for the best. This was the first time that I heard an Italian doing the same thing but in reverse ("sorella" being the word for "sister").
Around 1 am we headed to a huge dance party inside of the castle on the water. The place was huge and packed full of people. There was music playing and huge projectors were playing trippy videos on the walls of the castle. It was pretty amazing, but we were both incredibly tired and wearing out backpacks...which kind of made crazy dancing impossible. It was mostly quiet wall standing for me, despite my being the most fashionable person in the club.
Around 4 am we headed back to Paolo's apartment and set up a couch and some cushions on the floor for Tristan and I to sleep on. I went out like a light.

Day 78

2009-08-08T22:01:00.001+02:00

Holding up the Tower 4, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

Off.
After staying most of the day in Lucca the day before, I decided to stick around Pisa for a day to do some planning and to make sure I took that typical "holding up the tower" photo (Check it out!).
Tristan and I woke up around 9, had breakfast and headed out to see a bit of town. We stopped by a pharmacy in the middle of town that Octavio (the father in the house we were staying) ran. He had left out a bottle of Calcium for me, because I hadn't had any luck finding it anywhere else (it is most often chewable or in fizzy drink form here). Tristan and I had lunch at a nearby pizzeria and spent a couple hours doing some "work" at an Internet cafe before heading over to the tower.
As soon as we arrived, we spent about 15 minutes trying to hold up the tower using "real life Photoshop". I think I succeeded after a while, but it was pretty hard. My expression is definitely somewhat real because it was pretty hard to hold that position for 5 minutes while Tristan was saying:
"Ok, now move the front hand slightly forward. No. No. OK. Now back. No, too far. OK...now angle it kind of forwards. No, the other forwards. OK. Lean back. OK, now put your lower hand forward again"...etc.
After photo time, it was time to have a look. Around that area you have to pay for everything, but figuring that we might as well do it, we reserved a time to go up the tower and spent the afternoon between the Duomo, the Baptistery and the Camposanto. Each building has some (or many) incredible features on its interior, including an amazing pair of 700 year old frescoes in the Camposanto that were destroyed by Allied bombs during the Second World War and then carefully pieced back together again...definitely by some dude who really really loved jigsaw puzzles.
Tristan and I sat around in the grass waiting for our 7:20 tower climb to roll around, eating lemon gelato and raspberries that we bought from a nearby supermarket, using the caps of chocolate milk bottles as spoons. The tower was interesting and about what I expected it to be like, but it was a great view of the surrounding landscape. I don't know if I will ever get tired of climbing up stone steps that have supported so many visitors that they have begun to dip in the center...something that I have really only found in huge tourist destinations in Europe.
A little after eight, we headed back to our place for the night, where we had an enormous and delicious dinner with the family. After dinner, we went upstairs to talk to the oldest son Filippo. Noticing his last name on an award on the wall, and then seeing a photographic family tree, I realized that he was a member of the same Sassetti family that had constructed this house in the mid sixteen hundreds. That was pretty amazing for me. I also called Marco, the main man behind Brooks in Italy who had offered to run with me to Livorno the following morning to arrange when and where we would meet.
Before we went to bed, Tristan and I sprayed ourselves with some "Off" that we had bought in the supermarket earlier in the day...we had both been destroyed by them the night before.

Day 77

2009-08-07T13:58:00.002+02:00

Cycling in Lucca, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

22 Kilometers.
Tristan and I woke up around 10, had some breakfast and set out to do our laundry and see some of Lucca. We got some bicycles and rode them around the city walls on our way to the laundromat. Lucca is a fortified city with old Medieval, Roman, and Renaissance walls, and the latter has a bike path that rings around the entire city. After making a loop, Tristan and I locked up our bikes and waited around the laundromat wearing only our jacket and long pants while everything else washed in the machine...it was definitely a muggy and uncomfortable wait, but in less than an hour our things were washed and dried and no longer smelled horrible. We changed back into our running shorts and t-shirts, dropped off our bikes and went over to go to the top of the medieval Tower Guinigi. There are trees growing on top of the tower, so you can stand in the shade and enjoy an amazing view of the rest of the city and of where we came from and where we were going.
In the afternoon we finally set out towards Pisa and once again took things pretty easy. After about 10 km we came upon a tunnel that was clearly marked as being almost a kilometer long...and after looking around to find that there was no other option, we buckled up our packs and took a run for it. The air was dank and cars were zipping by, but as we breathed the fresh air on the other side, we were suddenly taken aback by an amazing view of the city of Pisa in the distance. The rest of the way was around windy roads and very straight roads, both of which were busy and neither of which had a shoulder...so instead our shoulders were getting scratched by the sharp tall grass that lined the wall of earth on the side of the road as we would try to lean away from passing cars.
Eventually, we got to the tower (this time a "wow, WE came here on foot") and I called up Simona who would be my host for the night. Brenda and Antonio in Milano had put me in touch with their friend Lele in Pisa, but he was away for the week and very kindly set me up in the house of a friend of his. I spent a little bit of time being stressed on the way there, not really sure of what would happen now that Tristan was with me as well, but Simona was very welcoming when we arrived and invited us both in. The house was incredible, and right in the historic center of town...with high ceilings and that old Italian style, it was definitely a change from the storage closet we slept in a few nights before. Simona actually runs a bed and breakfast (the Relais Sassetti...if you are ever in the whearabouts of Pisa) and has hosted many American exchange students, so the family was pretty used to having visitors. We took our showers and had a great dinner with Simona and her family (who had a lot of questions to ask about running) before washing our cloths in the sink and going to bed. I still can't really believe I'm in Pisa.

Day 76

2009-08-07T12:55:00.001+02:00

Dragging Tristan to Lucca, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

42 Kilometers.
In the morning, we woke up and took turns rinsing off in the little sink that was in the storage closet. Around 10 we called Angela and she let us in to have some breakfast with her. Tristan took a shower, and we ate some bananas and cereal before putting on our shoes and saying our goodbyes.
We had decided the night before to change my original itinerary to head slightly north towards Lucca (instead of Pontedera) on our way to Pisa. Tristan and his family have vacationed in Lucca in the past, so we were heading towards a place that Tristan knew well and where everything was worked out before we arrived (Tristan was on his Blackberry sending e-mails back and forth to his family who were giving him the info of who we would meet, where we would eat and where we would sleep).
The trip to Lucca was long, and it took us an incredibly long time to get there. We did a lot of walking and talking, and Tristan caught me up on a lot of things that I had missed being away from friends and news for two and a half months.
Before getting into town, we spent a good twenty minutes trying to stage the above photo of me dragging Tristan into Lucca...balancing my camera on the guard rail on the side of the busy road, supporting it with pieces of trash and grass that we found nearby. It seemed like a good symbol for the day.
After passing through the city walls (around 8 pm) we met up with a family friend of Tristan, Giovanni and his wife, and we sat around talking, hydrating and eating some awesome grapes. Afterwards, Tristan and I took a shower and we went out to an awesome dinner where we stuffed ourselves with meats, pasta and wine in the cool night air. Somehow we still found space for some gelato and beers afterwards, and we went to sleep without washing our clothes for the second night in a row. For me, it was really nice to have an easy day of rest, with good food and a comfortable bed. For Tristan, well...I think he was pretty wiped out.

Day 75

2009-08-07T12:20:00.002+02:00

Storage closet room, Empoli, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

35 Kilometers.
Tristan and I woke up around 10 and walked the 5 km or so into town to see Michelangelo's David before leaving Florence: I had arrived too late on Sunday night, and it was closed as always on the Monday I took off. Knowing that we would probably be taking it pretty easy to get to Empoli, I wanted to get out of town before noon so that we wouldn't arrive too late. The only problem was that when we arrived at the museum of the David, there was a line around the building which would have added at least two hours to our departure time. The line was slow enough that people were sitting down on the floor playing cards. There was however, a short line (maybe 5 min. wait) for people with reserved tickets, so I went and asked the guy who was guarding the line if I could just buy a ticket on the Internet and then come back to the shorter line. He said yes, so Tristan and I set off to do the smart thing and buy a ticket online in an Internet cafe. It took us about a half hour to find one, and when we finally got there and onto the ticket website, all of the tickets for the day had been sold. I was a little bit stressed, and we were going over our potential options: waiting in line and most likely staying in Florence for another night, buying a ticket for a later date and coming back for a day trip with a train, not seeing the David at all or doing the jerk thing and asking someone in line if we could cut in front of them. We decided to do something along the lines of the latter, and went back to the line to see if a miracle would happen. It did. I went up to the guy who we had spoken to before, and told him (in Italian) that even though he had informed me that there were online tickets available, they actually were not...and without another question and despite how many annoying and demanding tourists that guy must deal with, he moved the rope and just let us in. We didn't wait at all, and after passing our stuff through an X-ray (they found and temporarily confiscated my Swiss army knife) and buying our tickets, we were standing in front of the David. It was pretty awesome, and I had another one of those "wow, I ran here and this thing is actually real" moments. The statue is enormous, and seeing it in photos really didn't give me a good sense of how amazing the thing actually is. In my honest opinion though, I think Bernini's David could destroy this Goliath.
Tristan and I headed out of town around 1 pm towards Empoli, and despite some jogging and walking on big hills, we actually made it to Empoli in a decent amount of time. Tristan is a good friend from school...but hasn't really had the same exposure to running as I. This day was the longest he had ever done...and the next day would be even longer.
When we arrived in Empoli, we stopped in a grocery store and got some fruit and something to drink, and after filling ourselves up, we headed into the center of town to see if we could make something happen. Once again, I found myself in a town with no place to stay...hoping that something would just happen. We did the usual wandering around looking for potential places to stay, and Tristan got to see how difficult it is to cover over 30 km and then spend the rest of the day on your feet with nowhere to sleep making loops of a city. We found a potential last resort in a soccer stadium, and then went back into the center to start asking questions of random people.
After walking through a little street market, it began: "Is there anything to do here?" "Is there an Internet point nearby?" "Is there a cheap restaurant here?"...eventually two nice young women guided us to an Internet cafe...and while they were busy for dinner, one of them (Angela) said that she would give us a call later in the evening if she had time and nothing to do. Tristan and I went to the Internet cafe for an hour and then went to eat at one of the cheap restaurants that someone suggested.
The restaurant had messed up our order, and it was after 10 pm when we finally got our food. It was dark, late, and we had nowhere to sleep...but we casually enjoyed our meal. I'm pretty used to this situation, but it was a bit more difficult knowing that now there were two of us who needed to find a place to stay. Fortunately, at the end of dinner, Angela gave us a call and we agreed to meet by a fountain in town. She was there with two friends, one of whom had a beer for us. We sat around the piazza drinking for a while, speaking in Italian (Tristan understanding some things from past Latin and Spanish classes, but not really able to speak). After a while, someone stood up and said "Ok, we go to the mountain now." I wasn't quite sure if I had heard correctly (Tristan had heard the same thing)...but despite this uncertainty, we were soon packed in a car and certainly on our way to a mountain. When we arrived at the top of this little mountain on the edge of town, we hiked up a little path to a park with an amazing view of the surrounding cities. From there, the night was spent talking under the stars and drinking huge amounts of limoncello. Finally I had another person to marvel at how crazy it is that you can be at one amazing place in the morning (the David) and after going for a run, end up at a completely different crazy place (drinking on the top of a mountain).
At the end of the night, we drove back into town still not really sure where we would sleep. Angela lived with her mother, but offered us this strange storage closet outside of her building. At two am, she unlocked the metal door, rearranged some of the random stuff that was littered all over the floor and said goodnight. Tristan and I layed down some blankets on the floor and went to sleep, packed in a little space that was just wide enough for Tristan, myself and a bicycle.

Days 73-74

2009-08-04T21:08:00.001+02:00

Tristan and Me, Duomo, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

55.4 Kilometers.
In the morning, Akila and Simone drove me back to the cafe, and we said our goodbyes before I started my run out of town. The night before Simone had showed me a map of a sentiero that ran from Bologna to Firenze (I didn't know about it the day before), and while I had missed the first half of it, I was excited to get off the roads and back onto some mountain trails. I ran around a panoramic road around the lake (the one that I had swam in the day before) before finding a red and white trail sign that had "Bo-Fi" scrawled at the bottom of it. From then on, it was an amazing (and on occasion, amazingly difficult) Tuscan mountain trail. Basically, it felt like I was running through a scene from Gladiator...the whole time I was kind of expecting that a Roman soldier on a horse would storm out of the woods and cut off my arm. Didn't happen, but I did come across a pretty cool old convent in the mountains, where I stopped and had some lunch and something to drink. There were a bunch of nuns standing around with the black and white outfits, and it was cool to see them talking and giggling amongst themselves just like any normal group of girls.
After lunch, I was pretty tired, so I walked for a while to let my food settle. Even when I started running again, I kept having to slow down to a climb on some sections of steep uphill of slippery gravel and scattered branches. After conquering one of the last crazy uphills, I got to a meadow where I saw my first view of Florence. It was incredible. Nearly 20 km from my destination, I could clearly make out Brunelleschi's Duomo through the saddle between two mountains. To me, the city looked like an ancient kingdom, and I forged on towards it with a huge grin on my face. After some more big hills, I finally arrived in the outskirts of the city...I was 5 km away from the center, but I was too tired to run. I stopped and got some Powerades and struggled the rest of the way into the city, feeling like I would never be able to stand again...but somehow pushing forward.
When I got near the Duomo, I gave Pamela a call (Simone had given me here information the day before when I told him I was going to be in Firenze)...her housemate Gloria answered the phone, and I was almost too tired to speak coherent Italian. After some serious struggling, I got the directions to her house (another 5 km from where I was). After that, I sat on the steps of the Duomo for a while, gathering up the courage to make the remaining run/walk to their place on the edge of town. I got there a little after 8 pm (a long and slow day), and we had dinner together with their friend Paolo. After dinner, Gloria, Pamela and Paolo agreed that we should go get some gelato. They are all Buddhist, and before we left I sat in on them doing a pretty interesting vocal chant/prayer...the name of which I forget how to spell, but the importance of which they explained pretty well.
I ended up getting to bed around 2 am. I was woken up the next morning at nine by the sound of my phone ringing. It wasn't a strange Italian number though...it clearly said "Tristan"...and when I picked up, my friend and college roommate was on the other end. He was in Pisa...and he was coming to find me. After some working out of details with Gloria and Pamela, they agreed to let us both stay for another night (I had planned on taking the day off anyways) and Tristan took the first train into Florence from Pisa. We met around 1 pm in front of the Duomo...it was a serious shock for me. The idea of meeting someone that I have known well halfway across the world is a bit crazy...but somehow everything worked out, and there we were.
We spent the day catching up and going through Tristan's stuff, deciding on what he needed to toss and what he needed to get in order to be my running partner for a stretch. We went inside the Duomo and up to the top of the dome (from which we had a great view of the mountains I came from, and the mountains we would have to run over). We went around to a few more of the main sights in the city, and had a late dinner...again, it was pretty crazy having a friend here with me, so a lot of the time was spent just getting over that. At 10:30 we met up with Gloria and Pamela, and I had a shower and washed my stuff. We got to bed around midnight, knowing that each of us would have a big challenge in the coming day...but at least this time it would be a challenge for two.

Day 72

2009-08-03T20:57:00.001+02:00

Lisa's Party, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

40 Kilometers.
I had intended to leave Monghidoro around 9 am, but I slept like a rock in a comfortable bed...not waking up until after ten, and starting on my way towards Barberino after eleven. My clothes were still wet, my legs were tired and the pain in my shins seems to be lingering...so I walked for the first eight kilometers or so, crossing the border into Tuscany. The run was pretty hilly, and I was pretty wasted towards the end...but I got a good view of a beautiful lake while rounding a hill, so I knew I had a nice swim to look forward to.
When I got into Barberino, I walked the length of town trying to find the center...there didn't really seem to be one, so I stopped in the nearest cafe I found to grab something to drink. Dripping with sweat, I went to the bar and bought 2 Gatorades. I drank them both, and then drank one more. Once I had drank that, I asked the bartender to fill one of the bottles up with water. After I drank that, I had him fill up the bottle again. I seem to get pretty thirsty here, and somehow my stomach is able to expand to hold enormous amounts of liquid while my mouth remains dry.
I asked the man at the bar if he knew of the best way to get to the lake (a few km away) and he asked if I was going in a car. I told him my story, which was then subsequently told to another woman who was in the bar. After giving them the details of my website in exchange for directions to the nearest beach, Lisa informed me that it was her birthday that night, and that I should come back to the bar around 7:30 for some food and drinks. I said that I would do that, and headed towards the beach.
On the way to the lake, I stopped in a grocery store to get some cold pasta. Inside, there was a woman who worked for a milk company marketing cold chocolate milk. She started talking to me about the product, not knowing that I was sold on it before she even started talking. One more good thing about Tuscany: a local milk company that sells cold fresh chocolate milk in almost every store. Thanks Mukki.
I went to the beach and hung out by myself at the end of a long man made peninsula, napping under the sun in between rounds of swimming.
Around 7, I headed back into town, where I found an open running shop. I went in and talked to the guy about various running shoe models and about my trip, and left for the bar around 7:30.
Lisa announced me to everyone in the place, and the rest of the night was spent talking to a lot of the guests about the experiences that I've had on my trip. There was huge bowls of fresh fruit, pasta, and alcohol...so it was a pretty good find for me. Two of her friends, Simone and Akila offered me a place to stay at their house and before heading home we walked together to some ambulance volunteer festival that was going on in the town and got some fresh donuts.
At Simone and Akila's place, I took a shower and washed my stuff, and spent some time talking to them both about my past experiences and about the days ahead. Another lucky day, and some more new friends.

Day 71

2009-08-02T02:16:00.001+02:00

Run to Monghidoro 1, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

42.7 Kilometers.
Italy got beautiful. Not that it always wasn't...but today I escaped the busy chaos of the Via Emila and headed into the mountains towards Monghidoro, one of two stops on the way to Firenze.
I woke up around 8:30 and had some breakfast with Lorenzo. We said goodbye around 9:30 and I started wandering around Bologna to get some things done before leaving town. I needed to find an Internet point before leaving town, and I needed to buy a light pair of flip flops...I was three days behind on my posts, and my feet really needed to start seeing the light of day.
I stumbled upon a huge street market and started circulating the booths of cheap curtains, fake purses and foreign craft products looking for an inexpensive sandal solution. With the heat, my feet really can't be inside of a shoe all day. The cream I bought in Milano isn't really going to make things better unless I can let my feet breath...I've got a bunch of spots on the top of my foot, and two of my toes are starting to look like they belong to a rotting corpse. I'm not really that concerned though...I've had worse...wearing leather cowboy boots all summer while working in hot northern California will really mess up your feet.
I walked through the market, picking up various sandals to see how light they were. I found a pair for two Euros that were a bit heavy, but seemed like the best thing I could find. I went into a nearby sports store and briefly contemplated buying a 20 euro pair of very light women's sandals...but went out and bought the pair for two. I tore off the packaging and threw it away, and two minutes later found a lighter and cheaper pair in a 99 cent store. I hate to add anything else to my backpack, and these seemed like the lightest solution, so I bought them ("Quicksyver" brand) and returned the previous ones (without packaging) to the bin in the market without asking for my money back. From there, I went to an Internet cafe and spent a pretty long time working on a computer. I didn't get out of Bologna until around 3 pm.
I had a stomach ache and my clothes were not yet dry, so I walked for the first 8 k or so until I found a found a good bathroom and a pretty place to start running. The run was completely uphill, along a river in some beautiful mountains...but still on a hard surface two lane highway. After about 20 km, I started feeling pretty thirsty and contemplated how much it would suck to not find any water until Monghidoro...immediately I looked up and found a pipe of clean water flowing out of the mountain...some sort of divine intervention which kept me going to Monghidoro. For the last 9 km I broke away from the river and headed up a serious hill to Monghidoro. After having already done about 30 km of uphill, the grade basically tripled, and I really struggled to maintain a continuous run into town.
I got into town around 7, and was pretty satisfied to see that while the town was small, the streets were bustling with people setting up for a Friday night market. I went to a grocery store and bought a Gatorade and the typical three box pack of warm Nesquick and drank everything pretty quickly. I felt thirsty again soon afterwards, and (feeling like I needed some fruit) bought some sort of large fruit drink. I stumbled out of town and sat down on a hill to let my stomach settle...mixing all of those drinks didn't seem like a good idea any more.
Once my stomach settled, I went back into town in search of a bathroom, and went into the bar on the edge of town. After using the bathroom, I felt much better...and feeling thirsty again and obligated to buy something, I bought a cold bottle of Heineken. Despite how much I had already drank, I was still tired and thirsty from the run, and it was one of the best beers I have ever had.
The television in the bar was playing an awards ceremony for the swimming championships in Rome...the US team had won, and the Star Spangled Banner was playing. After the program was finished, the man behind the bar started whistling the tune, and I started conversation by saying "Sono Americano." Immediately the man dropped what he was doing and came over to talk to me about where I was from and what I was doing in Monghidoro. Tommy loves America. He has travelled there on 7 occasions and has seen about as much of the United States as I have. After talking for a bit, Tommy took a few minutes off of work to drive me to his house, where I took a shower and his wife made me some pasta for dinner. We returned to the bar, where he introduced me to his friend Claudio, who loves New York City and who also offered me a place to stay for the night. I spent the rest of the night drinking and speaking in Italian about how great the United States and NYC are. These guys knew so many places and facts about New York that most New Yorkers don't know, and I was pretty amazed by how much they knew about the country in general.
I went to bed around 1 am in Claudio's unfinished spare apartment (to which he had lent me the key). I had many fond memories of home running through my head, but I was simultaneously incredibly satisfied with where I was.

Day 70

2009-07-31T13:22:00.001+02:00

Leaning tower in Bologna, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

41 Kilometers.
I finally got to sleep, and slept until almost 10 am. When I woke up, I got ready and we went to grab something to eat near the Piazza Grande (another UNESCO site, by the way). I had a salami sandwich, a croissant, and a few glasses of water before saying goodbye and setting out on my way. I stopped after about an hour to grab some water from a fountain. At two hours I stopped again at a gas station to drink two Powerades and a bottle of water. I was thirsty again after about two minutes, and eventually stopped again to get a drink from another fountain that I found.
When I got into Bologna, I crossed over a river where some people were bathing. It looked awfully appealing, but solving a more important problem first, I went down the street and bought two bottles of gatorade. I drank them both, and still thirsty went for another. Then I went back to the river and went for a swim to cool off. It was also good to rinse off my shorts, because they had a pretty nasty white coating of salt and sweaty sunscreen.
I went to an Internet cafe and found the number of Lorenzo, my couchsurfing host for the night, and spent a little bit of time writing a post for the day three days before (I am just now getting caught up). I met Lorenzo at 6:45 in the Piazza Maggiore, and we walked around town, checking out one of the oldest universities in Europe (I think about 700 years older than Columbia, one of the oldest universities in the US). Lorenzo brought me through many interesting areas (including the leaning tower above), and we ended up getting a drink at the oldest pub in town. During our drink we talked about travels and about more cultural differences between Italy and the states. We spoke (in English) about the problems of dubbed films and television here (as in France and Germany, everything is dubbed here rather than subtitled). Until I got to France, I had never really realized that each American actor has a single person who always does their voice. Here, there is a voice of Stallone that is instantly recognizable as Stallone (and nobody has ever heard his real voice). The problem here though, is when the dub star dies and the real actor keeps making movies--how do you replace the voice of Woody Allen or Sylvester Stallone when it is the same voice you have heard for your entire life? I don't know...but I thought it was an interesting dilemma.
We went back to Lorenzo's apartment and had some dinner, and I washed my clothes under the sink and took a shower. Lorenzo had a fan and a comfortable sofa bed, and I got an incredibly good night of sleep.

Day 69

2009-07-31T12:34:00.001+02:00

Crescenteria, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

28 Kilometers.
In the morning, Angela drove me by the Calatrava bridge outside of Reggio (on the highway, a ways outside of town) before dropping me off on the Via Emilia where I had arrived before. On my way out of town, I bought a new charger for my phone...a much bigger and heavier version of the same thing (I was told in two shops that you couldn't find the small and practical one in Italy). The run was again a nice distance...not too long and not too short, and I ran continuously and pretty easily.
When I got into Modena, I went into a grocery store and bought my (now standard) 1.75 liter bottle of Gatorade and 1.5 liter bottle of water...I also bought an enormous slice of cold watermelon (a quarter watermelon was the smallest size they sold). I went out to a park bench and spent almost an hour drinking and slowly working my way through the watermelon, carefully dissecting it with my Swiss Army knife. Watermelon is amazing. A (somewhat crazy) woman sat next to me while waiting for the bus and I offered her a piece of my watermelon. She said no, and offered me some sort of candy bar, to which I said no. Then she started talking really quickly about how some people think it is chocolate, but it is gum or taffy and how chocolate is bad or something along those lines, and (somewhat lost) I just smiled and nodded (or shook my head, depending on what I determined to be more appropriate). Eventually she slowed down and I explained that I wasn't Italian, and we spent some time talking about my trip and about her daughter and all sorts of stuff. Eventually she got on the bus, and I headed down the street towards town. I stopped in an Internet cafe to check my email and got in contact with Filippo, my couchsurfing host for the night. We agreed to meet in a few minutes in the main piazza of the city.
I took my time getting there, and once we found each other, we went back to his apartment (nearby) where I met his girlfriend Christina, took a shower and washed the clothes I had on in the sink. I put on the dirty clothes from the day before and waited for the ones I had just washed to air dry so that I could change and wash again. This is life when you only have two t-shirts and two pairs of shorts.
While Filippo went to go play soccer, I went around town and got a beer with his friend who had had a year of high school in Alabama. It was amazing hearing an Italian person speaking English with a thick southern accent. She had even spent some time visiting Columbia, so we had a lot to talk about.
Filippo met us around 9, and we went to a cresceteria and got a typical sandwich of the region (with a kind of strange flatbread that I can only really compare to a somewhat crispy pita). Afterwards, we got a gelato (everyday gelato!) and went to an outdoor bar.
I went to bed around 1 and had a very difficult time getting to sleep. The problem here is that it is incredibly hot, so you have to leave the windows open and sleep with no sheets. However, there are also many mosquitoes, so sleeping without any sheets and the windows open becomes a problem. You are either hot or bitten...and while it would be a very easy solution to this problem, fans and screens seem very rare here. On a couple occasions around 5 in the morning I got up and went onto the balcony, and just stood there for a few minutes in the open air. Tired and frustrated, I wanted all the mosquitoes to come together in one giant human shaped mass so that I could punch it in the face. No dice there, so I just went back and tried to fall asleep to the tune of buzz buzz buzzing in my ear.

Day 68

2009-07-31T11:35:00.001+02:00

Reggio, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

28 Kilometers.
In the morning I went into town with Saša and he took a few pictures of me running with his fancy camera before I actually started running. Once again, the way was straightforward and easy...just like a regular run in the park (except I wasn't in the park, of course). I had left Parma fairly late, so I ran while it was hot and got into Reggio in the early afternoon. Thirsty and covered in salt grime and sweat, I asked someone on the street where the nearest grocery store was, and a few hundred meters later I was in an air conditioned "Esselunga" with about 3 liters of Gatorade and water and a cold cup of mixed fruit. From there, I went into the center of town and walked around to a few of the old churches. In one, S. Prospero, I was amazed by how beautiful the stone of the columns was...until I walked a little closer and saw that they were just painted to look like marble. There seems to be a real love of ornament here (even if tacky and artificial) in both architecture and fashion. I have to be honest though, it generally looks good from far away.
I spent a while hanging around in the park, doing some very rare core/drills barefoot just to keep myself occupied and to let my feet see the light of day. I spent some time watching some "drama kids" practice some crazy impromptu/mime/ballet, realizing for the first time that those awkward drama games are an international phenomenon.
At some point, I went into a grocery store and was excited to see some cold Nesquick on the shelf. I bought it just out of principle, because it isn't really something you find here. At the register, I spoke with the checker for a good 20 minutes about what it was that I was buying and why I was in town. When I finally cracked open the first little "Nesquick To Go" pouch and took a sip, I found my mouth filled with some chocolaty mess with a consistency somewhere between mousse and yogurt. What a terrible trick...thanks Italian fake chocolate milk marketing team.
Around 8 pm, I walked by a bar that was pretty packed with people about my age, and while I hadn't eaten dinner yet, I figured I should probably take the chance to meet some new people. After asking someone near the door, I found that the place had a deal where if you bought a drink, you could eat the buffet/tapas type food for free. A good way of killing two birds with one stone.
Somewhere down the line I found myself talking to two girls who were both named Julia, one of which was fortunately an architecture student, so I had something to talk about. They ended up leaving fairly soon afterwards, but after eating a couple plates of pasta, I sat myself down at a table with a group of their friends who had stuck around.
I spent the rest of the night explaining what it was that I was doing, answering questions and asking some of my own. One of the questions that I hear a lot here is "aren't you afraid?"...to which I answer "eh." I don't really know what it is, but whenever something is a little bit crazy on this trip, I just think about the reason that I am in that situation and am immediately relieved. This whole thing is my own creation, and it is because of me that I am here. If I ever feel scared, I just kind of smile and take the jump. I would rather take risks and live my life in a way that’s worth protecting than to spend all my time safeguarding something that I can't enjoy.
After we finished our drinks, we headed off to get some gelato and stroll around the city. I was with a great group of people, and after several changes of plan, I ended up with a place to stay.
At Angela's house, I took a shower and was too tired to wash my clothes (meaning that the next day I would have to wash everything). I went through my normal sleeping routine, except for when I got to the plugging in my phone part, the charger exploded in my hand and the power in the house went out. Luckily, Angela was familiar with where the fuse box was, and the power was back on in no time. For a couple weeks my charger had been making a funny sound sometimes when I would plug it in. I bought it in Amsterdam, so it was proper for the EU...I guess it just got tired of working.
I went to sleep around 1:30, tired enough to sleep despite the heat and the mosquitoes buzzing around my ears.

Day 67

2009-07-30T17:50:00.001+02:00

Parma Cone, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

22.5 Kilometers.
A short run put me into Parma in the early afternoon. The distance was easily managed, and I was probably doing six forty miles along the same straight and busy road as the day before. Nothing interesting really happened until I was coming into town and a car t-boned another passing car, causing the front bumper to fly off and land 50 meters or so in front of me...an instant reminder of how wonderfully amazing the drivers are here.
I had set up a place to stay in town through couchsurfing, so I didn't have to worry about much. I gave Saša a call and started checking out the town, waiting until he got off of work. I went into a few churches and meandered around town, eating a gelato before walking through the Giardino Ducale. Eventually I went to an Internet cafe where I spent a few minutes checking over my emails before Saša came there to meet me.
We went back to his apartment, where I took a shower and washed my stuff. He had to meet someone in town for an hour or so, so when I was done with my shower I spent a significant amount of time reading over a photoshop manual that he had in the living room. I learned about a couple things that I hadn't heard of before...and won't believe until I see for myself (the possibility of importing 3d models and maintaining perspective?).
Saša and I went to dinner, and I got to eat some Parma ham and tortellini, both specialties of the region. After dinner, we bought a beer and sat in a nearby park with one of Saša's coworkers. Late in the evening, we went into a gelateria and took some of that back to the park to hang out. You really have to try hard here to keep a diet that consists of less than 10 percent gelato...the stuff is amazing.

Day 66

2009-07-28T18:48:00.001+02:00

Day 66 Run, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

38.7 Kilometers.
The run to Fidenza was pretty straightforward. Actually, pretty much every run I have until I get to Bologna will be straight and forward. One thing that carried through from the Romans are completely straight roads from town to town. I would imagine that there was never really any need for another road, so the Italians just paved over them and now they are busy highways. Great for cars, bad for runners.
I stopped after about 20 km in a town called Firenzuola and went into a cafe/supermarket and bought two bottles of Powerade. The lady at the counter had seen me running from Piacenza on her way to work, and she gave me a free bottle of water to help with my thirst quenching.
Runs around 20 km are really perfect, I can really just go out and cruise and not have to think about anything except for putting one foot in front of the other. Runs around that distance were pretty standard back at school, so when I head out the door, I just think to myself "eh, just doing a short little run in the park." On days like this though, I do that run in the park...I walk around town for maybe 15 minutes and I say "ok...well, time to do another short little run in the park."
When I got into Fidenza, I was incredibly thirsty again, and I stopped in the only open place anywhere in sight, a gelateria. They didn't have any real liquids, so I settled for a lemon Icee type drink. Best brain freeze ever.
After doing the typical loops, I found a group of people sitting outside of a cafe/bar, and asked them if there was anything to do around Fidenza. We started talking, and I sat down and they asked me lots of questions about my trip. Really nice guys, but they thought that I was crazy...which I guess is rational. After I got to the part where I didn't have a place to stay, somehow the whole group started slowly dispersing. Oh well.
I ordered something to eat from the bar and sat around for a while. When I was done, I went inside and paid, and asked the bartender if he had any solutions for me. He told my story to a nearby man, who ended up being an American (from Arizona) who has been living in this region for almost 30 years, teaching English among other things. Glen ended up offering me a shower and a place to stay...and a computer. He had a concert to go to, but he left me with the computer for the hours that he was gone.
When he came home, we spent a long time going over the cultural differences that he has found in Italy, and it was good to hear some advice from another American that has spent so much time here. We also spent some time talking about one of my favorite subjects: architecture. We spoke about digital fabrication and about the need for architecture that is either application specific with an application specific lifespan, or redundant architecture which lasts forever and which can be easily repurposed. While I was tired, the conversation was engaging, and I didn't get to sleep until around 2 am...knowing that once more I would be running under a high sun.

Day 65

2009-07-27T11:42:00.002+02:00

The Bridge is Down, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

38.1 Kilometers.
Matteo came and opened up the door for me around 10:30, and we headed out to grab something to eat together. Afterwards, I spent some time running around town trying to find a replacement for my depleted body glide. The heat is definitely causing some potential problems, so after a few stops, I found a bike shop which had something I could use. I ended up buying "Ozone Elite Protect Cream," which while fairly expensive and oversized for my needs, had Le Corbusier's modular man wearing bike shorts as its logo, so I took that as a sign that it would work for me.
Some people had informed me the day before that the bridge to Piacenza was down, and that I wouldn't be able to get there on foot. I spent a little bit of time in the morning going over possible alternatives, but ended up deciding to go to the town across the river from Piacenza and figure out a solution when I arrived. I knew that there was a railway bridge nearby, and I was excited to MacGyver a solution when I got there. I set out of Lodi in the early afternoon, and just cruised on my way to San Rocco, the small town across the river from Piacenza. I told myself that I would run continuously until I got to San Rocco, or for two hours (when I would need to refuel)...whatever came first. I kicked out mid 6:20 miles until the two hour bell rang and I found myself at a gas station right outside of San Rocco. Not a crazy pace, but with the backpack and the heat I was definitely drained when I arrived. I went in to the shop and bought a 1.6 liter bottle of energy drink, and immediately drank half of it. I had the guy refill the rest with water, and I drank that too. I stood there for a couple minutes trying not to puke, and then immediately after that sensation went down, I drank a Powerade and another half bottle of water. I was less than 8 km from Piacenza, and a few kilometers away from the bridge, so I started heading in that direction. Due to the quantity of liquid in my stomach, I started out walking and evolved into a slow run. When I got to the closed bridge, I decided to check out how bad it was (even if a car couldn't cross it, maybe I could). I climbed over two fences with obvious no entry signs and walked to the edge of the world. The bridge was in pretty bad shape, but I didn't have many options, so I tried to figure out a solution. My solution was to jump the gap onto the second piece of the bridge and then climb up the still connected guard rail onto the third. After standing for a couple minutes, wondering if the slab of concrete hanging off the other part of the bridge would hold my weight, I decided to test it via leap of faith. It was a long ways down if it didn't hold, but luckily it did, and I found myself walking down a steep hill of broken highway to the ground below. Matteo had informed me that the bridge was broken in two places, so I wasn't really sure that even if I climbed up the crazy guard rail I would be able to get over the other place. I decided to walk over to the railway bridge and see if I might have a more viable option there. There actually was a place that I could pass safely if a train came by, so I climbed up onto the bridge and made a run for it. Luckily, no train passed by, and I got into Piacenza (half "Mad Max" style, half "Stand by Me" style, as my friends back in Lodi would put it) much easier than I had previously imagined.
Now my goal was to find something to eat and a place to stay. I walked around town, entering a few churches and walking around a few parks. Outside of one church, a man was taking photos of all the people who entered, and we ended up speaking for a bit about my trip. He took a photo of me with some nuns as well. I gave him my phone number, and he said he would call me later in the evening to see if I had found a place to stay. After a few more loops around the town, I didn't find the Internet cafe that I was looking for, and sat down in a park hoping for anything. It was around 8 pm when Carlo called and said that if I didn't have a place I could have dinner and stay with him. I went back to the church to meet him, but when I got there and called him, he said that there was an emergency and that he could no longer put me up. I told him that it was no problem, and that I hoped everything was alright, and went on my way. I got some dinner, and around 9 o'clock, I called Matteo to see if he knew anybody in Piacenza. He said that he didn't really, but that one of his friends knew a guy who was in a band at a rock concert near the train station. After an hour or two of wandering around trying to find this concert, occasionally calling Matteo for an update on directions, I eventually arrived at the outdoor concert which really wasn't anywhere near the train station. It was incredibly heavy stuff. The bands were playing "violent core," according to one of the posters I saw...and were seriously violently rocking out. Mario, the singer in the band that I had been given the name of offered to put me up, and was an incredibly nice guy, but he lived 20 km in the direction of Milan. He asked just about everyone he knew to no avail, and in turn I started asking everyone else. After talking to so many people, Mike and Chiara offered to put me up at their place. It was a ways away, but Mike offered to drive me back in the morning. I got to bed around 3 am, incredibly tired. I had made it my goal while running out of Milan to never run during mid day again...but that isn't about to happen.

Day 64

2009-07-26T23:29:00.001+02:00

Wellington Pub, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

40.7 Kilometers.
I woke up late in the morning, and after eating some breakfast and spending a bit of time on the computer, Brenda, Antonio and I took the car/train ride into Milano. It was around 2 pm when I finally set out of the city on my way to Lodi.
Definitely one of the most ugly and difficult runs that I have had thus far. Italy is not really made for pedestrian traffic, and I followed a highway out of the city, coughing through the dust and smog with the exhaust of the passing cars increasing the heat of the already incredibly hot weather. People said that Italy would be hot. I didn't think it would happen right away.
After maybe 8 km, I hit a part of the highway that had an obvious no pedestrian sign, and considering that there wasn't a space at all for a pedestrian, I decided to obey it. The only problem was that there wasn't really any other option of getting to Lodi (I starting singing my own version of the CCR song, where I was stuck on the way to "Lodi"). There was a few kilometers in there of hopping over jersey barriers and fences, crossing train tracks, running through fields, getting my legs cut by little plants (hoping there was nothing poisonous)...trying to fill the voids between roads that didn't connect, hoping they were roads that I could run on. Eventually, I got back onto a busy (but possible) road, and ran along its side for maybe the first 20 km. It felt like the hottest day that I have had so far, and the general traffic/road/air quality made me feel like I was back running in Thailand...maybe worse. Eventually, I found the option of taking a slightly longer smaller road, which actually had a bike lane, and the rest of the run was quite alright. I stopped a couple kilometers outside of town in a grocery store, completely wiped out and feeling like death. I took a photo of my terrible condition, but accidentally deleted it. After three boxed chocolate milks and a bottle of sports drink, I felt a little better and wandered the rest of the way into town. I checked my phone, and by some chance I had managed to put "Lodi" on it (the only CCR song I had), so I listened to the song on repeat until I arrived, hoping that I wouldn't get stuck in Lodi. I think it was the second time that I have listened to my music in the last two months.
I started my usual wandering about town, and after making a couple loops I stopped to ask a couple sitting in the park for some advice on a restaurant and somewhere that I might be able to find a shower and a place to sleep. After talking for a bit, they informed me that they lived quite a ways from the town (in a little town that I had run through on the way to Lodi), but that they were going to a nearby bar later to meet some friends, and that I should go there after dinner to see if I could find something. So that is what I did. I had a cheap plate of spaghetti and a salad, and headed over to Wellington Pub on the edge of town. The bar had an awesome atmosphere, and I was quickly introduced to a huge group of awesome young people, with pretty similar interests in art, architecture, and music as me. Tired as I was, I stayed out until 2 am talking with so many people. One of the guys worked for the local paper, and did an impromptu interview. Some of the conversations I had really made me laugh. I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing the ideas that people in other countries have of America, or having them explain the realities behind my ideas of their country. Around 2 am, Matteo and Mattea (difficult to not get the names mixed up) brought me to their art studio where I could shower and sleep for the night. One is a photographer and the other an artist, and the place was full of some pretty cool work. They locked me in, and I took a quick shower in a crazy (sink level) tub and went to sleep on the couch, excited for the coming day.

Days 62-63

2009-07-24T20:26:00.003+02:00

Brenda, Antonio and Me in Runner's Store, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

46 Kilometers.
Vittorio dropped me off back in Como on his way to work...it took a while for me to finally wake up, so I walked for a couple kilometers to get out of town. As I was getting ready to start my run, I took a kneel to relieve myself and somewhere between wondering what time it was and accidentally peeing on my hand while trying to shield myself from flashing a nearby car, I noticed that my watch was not on my wrist. Immediately the events of last 8 hours or so flashed through my mind: my taking off my watch to take a shower, my waking up in the middle of the night and realizing that I wasn't wearing my watch and that I needed to remember it when I woke up in the morning, and my leaving the house without really waking up in the morning...without my watch. For the entire run (split into two sections for a short lunch break and some walking) I couldn't help but think of Christopher Walken's watch story in Pulp Fiction. Looking at the white tan line on my wrist, I kept going over all the things that this watch has been on my wrist for: I have had it for about 7 years, and it has been there for just about every tough workout, race, or PR I have ever had...not to mention it has crossed a half a continent on my wrist. This trip has forced me to be a little less sentimental with things, but I really wanted to get this watch back, and was kicking myself for being so thoughtless. I couldn't do anything at the moment, as Vittorio was at work (in Switzerland) and I didn't even have his phone number or address. To make things worse, checking over my bag to see if it was anywhere to be found, I noticed that my long sleeve shirt wasn't there. I left it in Lugano. I guess I had a thoughtless couple of days (I was planning on ditching the shirt long ago anyways, as it was never really part of my originally planned luggage). I had to just forget about those things and keep pushing on towards Milano, through some of the longest dirty suburbs I have ever seen. There, I could take a break for a day and figure out my next few moves.
My arrival in Milano by the way, marked two months from my departure--in those two months, I have been in 6 countries and run around 1,760 kilometers, which averages out to 125 mile weeks if you include my breaks in some of the big cities, (145 miles/week if you don't). The crazy thing is that I'm not even halfway done.
In Milano, I met up with Brenda (the mom of a fellow Columbian) and Antonio, her husband. It was a great couple of days, I got my laundry done and had some time to just relax. Apart from taking me out to some amazing Italian meals, they took me to a pharmacy where I refilled my calcium and bought some antifungal foot cream (my feet are starting to get pretty gross...not there yet, just starting) and went halfway across the world to get me a new pair of shoes. Milano is an enormous sprawling, dirty, fashionable and interesting mess...and I was pretty lucky to have Brenda and Antonio there to take me around. Brenda is American, and Antonio is Italian, so we spoke a comfortable mixture of the two languages.
I was pretty lucky to get an e-mail from Vittorio, who had found my watch in the bathroom, and Brenda and Antonio were nice enough to drive up to meet him on my last night in Milan. The drive seemed really long considering that I had run it only the day before. Vittorio came to meet us on a scooter with Giorgio, and seeing them and my watch was glorious...like reuniting with some old friends. Even though it had only been two days, it seemed like a miracle to see someone who had seen a few days before in another town, and made me excited to reunite with some of the people I have met along the way in future years. It has been an amazing first two months, with so many interesting and generous people...but it is a long road ahead.

Day 61

2009-07-24T02:37:00.001+02:00

Nova Comum, Como, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

32 Kilometers.
I slept until near 10 am in Lugano, had some breakfast with Lorenzo and started heading towards Italy. Before leaving town though, I thought I should spend some time on the computer writing about the last three days, so I found an Internet cafe and ended up lounging around there until around 3 pm. At 3:45 I finally got out of town, and had a pretty smooth run into Como. To make things more challenging I decided to try to race a guy on a bicycle (travelling with huge saddle bags). I kept getting right up behind him on the uphills, and then he would roll ahead on the downs. I finally got ahead, just moments before our roads divided. Not having had a running companion for the past two months, keeping pace with hippies on bicycles is all I can really do to maintain that feeling. I stopped a few miles short of Como in my last non-Italian town for over a thousand miles or so and tried to spend my last 10 Swiss Francs before I crossed the border. I bought two iced teas, two Lindt Swiss Chocolate bars, and a package of Mentos. Thinking that I should eat a little bit of real Swiss chocolate before I left, I went into a Swiss chocolate store for the bars. Thinking purely numerically, I went with the highest percentage cacao they sold...90 percent. I have now learned that you have to be an idiot to buy a chocolate bar because it has the highest percentage of cacao. That chocolate bar was terrible. The first two squares were a shock, and I forced down the second two. Having a thing about not wasting food, I forced down two more squares before deciding that it would be better to throw the rest of the chocolate away then to vomit it away. I tried to offer it to someone on the street, but for more than one likely reason, they said no.
I got into Como in the early evening, singing "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on my Head" aloud as I walked the last kilometer or so around the lake (Perry Como recorded a version of it that I used to repeat over and over on my record player).
I spent my usual couple hours wandering about the town, making Gaelic knot patterns on the plan of the city...hoping that something would fall in my lap (fortunately, it did). On the way, I was wonderfully surprised to find Terragni's Casa Del Fascio (near a wall on which "DUX" was spray painted). I had studied this building in school, but the fact that it was in Como had completely slipped my mind.
After about my 8th loop around the city, I passed by a pretty busy cafe/bar in the main piazza of town (Caffe Nova Comum) where I heard a man say something along the lines of "Hey runner." I quickly responded, "Yep...runner...that's me," from which came the question "Where did you run from?"...to which came an answer which started a longer conversation. It wasn't long before I was speaking to a group of people outside the cafe, feeling like I had just been sucked into a typical Italian scene from a movie. People coming by on bicycles and stopping in for a word, others leaving on scooters. Pretty women walking by and young guys halting the conversation to call out "ciao bella!" Before I could realize, I had a beer in one hand and a pizza in the other. Everyone in the place was talking to me and helping me out, even to the extent of asking some of the customers if they had a place I could stay. When it started getting late, and things were looking grim, Giorgio (the man in charge) offered to put me up in a hotel, but I told him that I couldn't accept. Soon afterwards, his friend Vittorio invited me to stay at his place. I was incredibly tired by the time we got there, I took a quick shower and fell asleep without bothering so much as to brush my teeth.

Day 60

2009-07-21T14:55:00.001+02:00

Mt. Gradiccioli and Me, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

45 Kilometers?
I'm not really sure on the mileage of this day, my route was kind of crazy and my GPS kept losing signal...telling me that I had run 166 km halfway through my run. I'm pretty sure that it was around 45 or 50 km, and one of the most challenging days yet.
The run to Lugano from Bellinzona was supposed to be pretty straightforward, 31 km along a sentiero. Once again, however, I didn't find the entrance to the path, and my route was pretty random and along the side of roads in bike paths that cars kept driving in. I again walked for about 15 km, hoping that the pain in my shins would calm down again. About halfway through the fairly direct route I was taking, I got to the town of Rivera, where Johnny had suggested that I take the "funivia" to the top of the mountain to see the Mario Botta chapel. I wasn't opposed to taking a machine up a mountain, provided that it brought me back down to the same place (so that I could continue along the valley to Lugano), so I went a couple minutes out of my way to the base station of the lift. When I got there, a sign informed me that the cost of the ride was 22 Francs for the out and back, and I said "No way am I paying that, I'll just run up it!"
I couldn't see the top of the mountain, and I didn't really think that it would be very far. I was wrong. As a general rule from now on, when a chairlift costs over 20 dollars, it is going a long way up. It was a very very long way up. I wasn't going to turn around, and after some serious running, hiking, crawling and sweating (and many false peaks) I arrived at Alpe Foppa, having gained 1060 meters of elevation. Soaking wet with sweat, I put on my pants and started going about the church. The view from the platform was amazing, and I was actually pretty glad that I had made the climb on foot. Had I taken the trip in an enclosed chairlift, it wouldn't have meant nearly as much to me. Standing on top of that platform, I felt truly triumphant, and truly grateful for the beautiful landscape that had brought me to the point where I was standing. The interior of the chapel was interesting, and I couldn't help but find echoes of Ronchamp: big revolving door, light breaking through the ceiling, little written messages and magnified sketches.
From the chapel, I headed to the cafeteria area and got a bite to eat and asked for the direction to Lugano. The man I asked told me to take the chairlift down and head along the valley...and that I had the other (insane and not suggested) longer option of continuing up to Monte Tamaro and taking the ridge line over and then down to Lugano. I wasn't about to backtrack down that hill immediately, so I chose the insane and not suggested option. Before heading on my way, I paid five francs to take a ride on a freaking awesome luge/bobsled thing. I went fast.
After sliding down a rock slide on my butt to get onto the proper trail, I took off my shirt and got ready to conquer some more mountain. The trail was incredible, and I felt like I was Highlander, Braveheart, or a really fast mountain goat or something...on little cut rock paths winding around the side of the mountain. At one point, a German couple that was hiking down the hill stopped and stood there with their arms outstretched and fingers moving, waiting to do "the wave" (the two person wave) as I passed by. That was pretty awesome. After some serious running, I skirted the top of Monte Tamaro and arrived at the top of M. Graddiccioli. At 1935 meters, it was about 1700 meters above where I had started the day (and 1700 meters above where I was going)...aka both the days it took to cross the Gotthard combined into one (plus the descent). At the top of the mountain, a plaque read (translated from Italian) that "the intensity of life is not measured by the number of breaths, but by the places and moments that take our breath away." This mountain definitely took my breath away.
From the top of the mountain, I could see the lake and city of Lugano, and I spent the rest of the trip running along the ridge lines and along the side of mountains towards the city (sometimes on trails, sometimes not). I eventually reached the town of Arosio, and took the longest winding downhill imaginable down to Gravesano where I continued towards Lugano. That downhill just destroyed my legs, and I had to walk/jog the last 4 or 5 km into the city.
Once again, I wandered around for a bit looking for something to fall into my lap. I bought a gelato and stood in the lake (which wasn't really cold at all) for twenty minutes or so...and fell asleep for a few minutes by its side. I had thought that I had a place to stay in Lugano, but once I got a little bit closer, I realized that the people who had sent me an email actually lived miles outside of the city...so I had to wing it again. I bought an amazing pizza (Gorgonzola and prosciutto) for dinner, and continued my rambling. After speaking with a few people, including a couple runners who had stopped to stretch, I found myself exhausted and with nowhere to sleep at 11 pm. At this time, I found a group of three people walking and said (an introduction I have been using kind of frequently) "Are you from this town?" When one of them said yes, I explained my story and asked if he knew of a place I might be able to find a shower and a place to sleep. Without another question, Lorenzo offered to let me sleep at his apartment and introduced me to his cousin and her new husband who were visiting from Italy for their honeymoon. Oh man, I was pretty happy...and pretty lucky once again.

Day 59

2009-07-21T13:38:00.001+02:00

View of City from Castelgrande, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

33 Kilometers.
I took a "Sentiero" (footpath) all the way to Biasca, where I was supposed to get back onto the footpath towards Bellinzona. The way was beautiful, and I went by an interesting ruined castle. When I got into Biasca however, I didn't pay any attention to the sign of the footpath (it was pointing in the wrong direction), and I just started heading in the right general (down the valley). Feeling like I should take an easier day (both of my shins are giving me some trouble again), I walked the first half on a series of roads and trails that were on no map, marching through mud, under highway overpasses, though thorns, etc. After 15 km or so, I crossed over a bridge and found the proper path again. As it would turn out, had I just gone in the wrong direction a little ways in Biasca, I would have found a bridge and followed the marked footpath the entire way. Once I started running, the going was better, and I followed a river all the way to the outskirts of Bellinzona. When I got there, I stood in the river for 10 minutes or so and headed into town. Bellinzona is a nice little town, with three castles that were once a major gateway to the Alps...now they are UNESCO world heritage sites and people go there because of that. I bought a Gelato and wandered up to the big castle in the center of town, and after walking around it (simultaneously looking for potential places to stay) I went back into town and went up to the next castle, where I did the same. I didn't really bother to go up to the third castle, because it was getting late, and everything would be closed (someone informed me later that it really isn't that cool anyways).
I went back into town and bought some dinner at a Kebab place. After eating, I spent a really long time stumbling about waiting for something to fall in my lap. When 10 o'clock rolled around and nothing had fallen in my lap yet, and I had spoken to a few people who couldn't help me out, I went back to the most happening place I knew (the Gelato place) and bought another ice cream and sat down on a bench. There was a group of young people across the street, so I went up to them and stated my facts. A translation of my introduction would probably be something along the lines of : "Good evening, I am a young person, here alone and I have nothing to do. I think that it is better that I speak with some people..." After we spoke for a bit, and they checked out my website to see that I wasn't just a poorly disguised serial killer (Thank you iPhone and 3G!), two of the people (Johnny and Sabrina) offered to take me home to their apartment for a shower and a place to sleep. They were incredibly nice, and were quick to throw my socks in the laundry machine before I could make their apartment smell like dirty feet (I'm about ready for a new pair of shoes).

Day 58

2009-07-21T12:57:00.001+02:00

Ludiano, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

48.9 Kilometers.
I might as well just put a shotgun to my knees. Almost 50 km of continuous hard surface running, the majority of which was downhill, was probably not the best thing for my already tired legs. I had found a place to stay in Ludiano, a small village near Biasca (the place I had intended on stopping) via couchsurfing, and on a map it appeared to be a bit closer to Airolo (where I was coming from). Closer doesn't mean much when there is a huge mountain ridge between you and your destination, so I had to run downhill to Biasca in one valley, and then back up another valley to Ludiano. Ludiano is beautiful--basically if you imagine a beautiful small Italian town and then cross that with the imagery of a mountain village in the Alps, then you have a good idea of what it is like. Alice (my host) made me some pasta for lunch, and we spent the afternoon talking (in Italian) until it was dinner time and Alice made a pizza from scratch (I like this Italian part of the world). I also threw my laundry in a machine...I hadn't washed my clothes in a couple days, and my stuff was starting to smell pretty rank. In the evening, we headed to a local middle/high school and watched a series of short plays in Italian that all had something do with apples ("Meladramma"). The school was pretty small, but the plays were entertaining and simple enough for me to understand. There was even a section which shared a theme with one of my favorite philosophies, the Plato/Aristophanes/Symposium concept of the derivation of love and the search for the other half. In the play, a bunch of apples were cut in half and shaken about in a tub. Everyone grabbed an apple, which represented themselves and after holding the apples in front of them, they danced about putting their half-apples against other half-apples, trying to find the perfect match. Basically, if love is a jigsaw puzzle, this is the strategy where you randomly plug pieces together trying to find one that fits. This all goes well until one of the pieces has a roughed up corner and then all the corners get roughed up and there isn't a good cure for jigsaw STDs. The better strategy, which I could easily see from the audience, would be to look at your own apple/jigsaw piece and then scan the room to find one that looks pretty close to it. The more you know your own apple, the easier it is to find a match. For me, all the things we do in life are about finding out your own apple/jigsaw shape, the more you know, the easier it is to solve the puzzle...you just have to hope that there isn't an odd number of apples-halves (In which case, you just eat your own...which actually ended up happening later in the play). A very philosophical middle school play, I must say.
After the play, we headed into Bellinzona and watched some of the Blues Festival that was going on there, and then headed to an underground Reggae bar, where Alice asked me if I could translate what was being said in the music. I answered, "No, I don't understand Italian that well I guess." She responded "Umm, this music is in English." After listening and maybe understanding one or two words, I realized that it was some sort of English based language. Either I've been away from English way too long (doubtful)...or that is one seriously messed up dialect.
Around 2 am, when I couldn't force my eyes open anymore, we drove back to Ludiano and I passed out on the sofabed. A 50 km start to any day will surely put me out quick.

Day 57

2009-07-19T12:52:00.001+02:00

Peak of the Gotthard, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

21.5 Kilometers.
The Gotthard is my bi***.
I left around 9 am from Andermatt, and it took me around an hour and ten minutes to peak the Gotthard, the highest point on my route. It actually wasn't that bad except for one false peak ("I'm almost there!") that ended up continuing upwards for a few more kilometers once I got to it. At the top the weather started to shift, and I knew that I had to get down to Airolo before the predicted enormous storm would hit (around noon). I met a man at the top named Andreas who had walked to the Gotthard from Basel over nine days, and we sat down in the little cafeteria there for a drink and some conversation. From there, it was a race to get to Airolo before the weather got worse. A thick fog had come in, and the air was incredibly wet. I couldn't see more than 20 meters in front of me through the fog, and the wet ground didn't make the downwards travel on a narrow mountain trail any easier. I have to define my method of travel this day as a mixture of running, hiking, sliding and falling.
I got into Airolo right as it started pouring down. It definitely poured...all day and all night. I was soaking wet, and there was absolutely nothing to do in Airolo on a rainy day. I spent some time in the tourism office looking over brochures, and took a nap in the train station waiting room. I ate some pasta for lunch and some pizza for dinner, and was pretty excited to start speaking Italian (the pass is the dividing line between the German and Italian speaking language zones in Switzerland). There was no laundromat in the town, so I didn't do the laundry that I really needed to do (my clothes were beyond the level that hand washing could restore). The day was spent waiting for something to happen...but nothing really happened except for more rain and thunder.
Around 9 I wandered into the bar in town hoping to find someone who might be able to help me out. I ordered a Gottardo beer and drank it very very slowly, waiting for the chance to break into the conversation. The problem with Airolo is that everyone seemed to know everyone, and the entire bar was involved in fast Italian conversation. It is pretty hard to find a good point to break in when everyone is speaking quickly in a language that is not your first. I finished my beer (after an hour I think...) and ordered an iced tea. After I had finished it, I ended up catching the bartender and a few minutes later I was speaking to a few other people in the bar...including one guy who kept testing my (not very good) abilities in languages by switching between English, French, German and Italian every few sentences. At the end of the night, when almost all hope was lost (nobody could put me up), a young man named Nauel brought me over to speak to the woman who ran the hotel next door, who he knew. After some talking, it turned out that there was an empty room that someone had just left, and they gave me some fresh sheets and said goodnight. I took a shower and spent some time looking at maps for the next day. I fell asleep warm and comfortable as the lightning and rain crashed down outside.

Day 56

2009-07-17T13:05:00.001+02:00

Day 56, Switzerland is Paradise, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

43.5
Once again I had to wake up early, and I headed out the door stumbling tired. René dropped me off back at the pub on his way to work, and I grabbed a pastry and started heading in the direction of the Gotthard. Before I got out of town, I was temporarily shrunk by a giant bench. It was a pretty nice morning but my clothes were still wet, so after two kilometers I stopped on a bench and laid down and put my wet clothes over me and got a couple of hours of sleep while they dried. When I got up around 10, I ran about 7 km to the next town and stopped to buy some tape and ibuprofen for both my ankles. I was feeling a bit of pain, so I figured I would take the precautionary measure. I also finally bought two 'Mach 3' razor heads to replace the two that I have used for the entirety of the trip thus far (they were getting a bit dull).
Then I started running. The run to Andermatt was beautiful as well, but I had to gain 1000 meters of elevation this day, so at times it was a bit difficult. I have no idea how fast I was running, but sometimes even though I was pushing hard I felt like I wasn't moving at all. It wasn't really the kind of day to rush, so I took it kind of easy. Apart from a few lesser grade hills, it was kind of like doing that hill at the Rockies (state park outside of NYC)...except it lasted for the length of the entire loop. It wasn't actually THAT bad though. I found myself not cursing the uphills, but rather the down. "I just ran up a 20 minute hill, and now you're making me lose much of that effort in 5?!"
I ran over a bunch of amazing old stone bridges, including the famous "Devil's Bridge." I got into Göschenen around lunchtime, only a few kilometers from Andermatt and decided to stop and get something to eat. The problem with small towns in Europe though is that the grocery store is closed during lunchtime, so I had to wait until 2 to get something to eat that didn't cost 25 francs. After I ate, I started heading up towards Andermatt, walking for a few kilometers to let my food settle before starting to run again.
As I got into town, I went by the old church that René had shown me a picture of the evening before...I went in and was lucky to find him still there working on the restoration. It was pretty cool running halfway up a mountain pass and seeing the same person that I had left in the morning a few hours before. I spoke with René for a while, and he gave me some water and fruit to snack on, and I headed out of town to find the river that I had been criss-crossing all day. I wanted to go in. I found it, and under a shining sun I took one of the most glorious ice baths I could ever imagine. When I got out, I spent an hour or so walking around the rocks and hills surrounding the town, finding many curious doors and chimneys coming out of the sides of the rocks.
When I got into town, I went into the "61" Internet kiosk and cafe, and wrote my blog entry for the day before. There I met Bernie, the guy who was running to the shop, and we started talking about my trip. Before saying goodbye, I asked if he knew where I might be able to find a place to shower and sleep and he immediately offered me a place at his house. His English was perfect, and we spent the evening talking about all sorts of crazy things. He has gone on many bike rides and treks over thousands of kilometers, through India, Asia and Europe. He also has a hobby of finding crystals in the mountains here, and it was pretty crazy to see some of the stuff that he has dug up...things that seem to perfect and geometric to be natural. It was pretty cool to think that he was the first person to set an eye on these rocks...thousands or millions of years after their creation. We had some tea together and he told me about much of the history and myths behind the region. I asked him about the chimneys and doors that I had seen all day, and he informed me that a huge portion of the mountainside here is hollowed out for military facilities...supposedly large enough to host thousands upon thousands of people. The idea of a subterranean city below the Alps is just incredible. I wanted to get a flashlight and a crowbar and do some exploring...but I think that will have to be a future trip.

Day 55

2009-07-16T19:01:00.001+02:00

Day 55 View 15, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

54.8 Kilometers.
One of the most beautiful runs of my life. A little long...but seriously, this place is paradise.
I had to wake up early and take the bus back into town with my host to the place where I got on (even though it brought me backwards). We got into town around 6:30, and I was incredibly tired having had only 4 hours of sleep. My clothes were still wet, so I walked for a couple kilometers with them draped over my body and backpack to let them dry. Before they could dry, it started to rain, so I began to collected the wet clothes and put them inside my bag. In the process, I noticed that my white shirt was nowhere to be found...it had been sitting on the back of my backpack. Uh oh. I quickly turned around and started running back towards Zug in the rain...amazingly, it was still sitting in the road a half a mile back.
When the rain started really coming down hard, I found a little public swim hut with a locker room off the side of the lake and went inside. Tired and with wet clothes, I hung up my things and took a nap for a couple hours. The light in the locker room was automatic, with a motion sensor in front of the building...so around 10:30 the light came on, and I woke up and collected my things before I could be discovered.
From there, the run was smooth and pretty. I have some similar pain that I had before in my left shin now (a little in my right too...) so I tried to take it pretty easy. When I got to the turnoff for Schwyz, my planned stop, I decided to keep going to Altdorf which would supposedly be a much better stop. When I got to the little town of Brunnen, having run over 30 kilometers, I stopped into the tourism office and looked at a map. I had no idea how much further Altdorf would be...it turned out to be about another 22 kilometers. "Big day I guess." I decided to rest for a bit, and had a salad and schnitzel in Brunnen. I also finally broke and bought the one souvenir that I can predict buying on this trip, a 14 franc Swiss Army knife. I think it is the only reasonably priced thing in this country, I don't know if it helps that I bought it less than 5 km away from the factory...
I started walking on the trail towards Altdorf, up the side of a mountain along the edge of the lake. I walked maybe 5 km to let my food settle and started running again. The trail was crazy, and the views of the mountains and blue lake below were some of the most amazing views I have ever seen. There were times where it was so beautiful that I felt like I was going to cry. Not really...but there were times that I thought, "man, if I were a dude who cried at this kind of stuff, I would definitely cry now." You have to see this place. It is unlike anything I have ever seen before...like the pictures I saw when planning the trip, but with a color and a feel that could never be captured by a camera.
When I got into Altdorf, I was wiped out. I stumbled into a bakery and grabbed something to eat and drink and sat down next to this famous William Tell statue for a while, feeling wasted...like I could never move again. Somehow I managed to get up and start wandering around the town. I found the church and went in, and fell asleep sitting up in a pew. I think it was only a few minutes before I woke up, wiped the drool from my face and stumbled back into town. Once I had made a few circles around the town, I sat down again by the statue. Eventually, I again forced myself up and found something to eat, and went into a nearby bar to see about finding a place to sleep. I knew that I would instantly die if I drank a beer, so I ordered a Coke and asked the bartender for some ice for my shin. She gave it to me, and we started talking (in German) about my trip. After a while, another guy came into the bar, and I talked to him for a while about it as well. When it was getting close to 11, I made the plunge and asked if either of them knew if there was a place I could take a shower and get some sleep around the town. The man, René asked if I didn't mind waking up at 6, and I said "of course not" (a little sleep is better than none). At his place, he made up a bed for me out of rock climbing mats and we spent some time showing each other pictures from our adventures. René really takes advantage of this amazing country, going climbing, horseback riding, mountain biking, camping, fishing, whitewater rafting, skiing...well, pretty much everything you can do on an almost daily basis. I took a shower and rinsed off my clothes as he made some food, and we ate together as he explained the best route for me to take in the morning. He would be working on an old church in Andermatt in the morning, and makes the drive almost daily. I went to bed well after midnight, and didn't have much trouble falling asleep.

Day 54

2009-07-15T14:14:00.001+02:00

Höllgrotten and Me, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

34.5 Kilometers.
I had a great dinner with Tom last night...he has a kitchen, so we were able to make some burgers for less than 10 dollars a piece (the price here for "just the sandwich" at a fast food place). We went out for drinks, and I woke up and headed out the door with Tom. Not wanting to make him late, I didn't hit the toilet up on the way out the door, thinking that I could just find one before I left town. Only a couple blocks away, I found a public restroom (common in Zurich) and went inside. There were used needles all over the place, and I decided that I should probably hold it until I found another bathroom. When I got into the next bathroom, I was excited to see that it was pretty clean...except for when I went to put down the toilet seat, I noticed that it was covered in blood. I decided that I should probably hold it until I found another bathroom. Luckily, I found a McDonald's, and went in to use the toilet. It was clean and safe feeling, but there was a bunch of stuff in the toilet, and after trying to flush it, it started overflowing. I decided to wait until the next bathroom...but luckily there was another floor of McDonald's, so I was saved by the Big Mac once again.
I didn't get out of town until around 10, and I ended up getting into Baar around noon. On the way I had a hill that felt like it was a mile long, and thought about how much it would suck to run up a nonstop hill that is more than 26 times that. When I got to the top of it though, there was a really nice view, so I decided to take a picture. Before I could press the button though, I got shocked in the leg by the electric fence that I had unassumingly leaned against. Nothing like some stim therapy to get me going again.
When I got into Baar, I bought my lunch from a grocery store: a piece of watermelon, a huge chocolate milk, a little individual pasta with ham and a piece of bread to use as a fork. I went across the street to the patio furniture store and sat in one of the tables to eat my food. After I finished awkwardly eating by scooping bits of pasta with pieces of soggy bread (I had set it down on my sweaty shorts) I noticed that there was a secret fork compartment with utensils and a napkin on the underside of the pasta dish. Oh well.
After lunch I wandered out to the Höllgrotten, a limestone cave system that is open for visits. I had to pay to get in, and it wasn't really that adventurous considering the installed lighting and artificial watering system...but it was still pretty cool. The stalactites look like some sort of crazy alien plant, and one can see where the water level of the underground lakes were by the formation of the limestone. (Geology...rocks!!!)
Once I left the Höllgrotten, I was basically equidistant from Zug (in the direction I am moving) and Baar (the town I had already been), so I decided to go on forward. In Zug, I found a nice little swimming area, locked up my stuff in the free lockers and dived in. Switzerland is spotted with beautiful, clean lakes. Once I had swam and jumped into water to my heart's delight, I struck up a conversation with a group of youngish people who were sitting on the dock. We had a beer together, and spoke (in English) about travelling. Things were going really well, but two of the people weren't from the town and were staying with the third. There wasn't room for me, and everyone they asked who they knew in the town said "No, are you crazy." They informed me (as many Swiss people have done) that people in this country are generally afraid and unaccepting of strangers. I was once again surprised to see how many locals (even well travelled ones) buy into such a stereotype of their own country.
Feeling kind of hopeless, and with the sun setting in the horizon, I approached a group of 5 people around my age and asked (to start conversation) if there was anything to do in the town. They said that there wasn't really anything to do in town except for what they were doing, and they handed me a beer and let me sit down with them on the edge of the lake. After we talked for a while, and went to a bar for another drink and something to eat, I caught a bus to a nearby village and found a nice shower and a place to rinse my clothes. Man I am lucky that that Swiss stereotype isn't always true.

Days 50-53

2009-07-13T14:00:00.002+02:00

In da club, Zurich, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

24.6 Kilometers.
Rest. Drinking. Recovery. Planning.
I've been away from the blog (and the run) for a few days, taking some time off to enjoy Zurich with some friends. My friends Nic (who I worked with at DS+R) and Tom (a fellow Columbian) are here, likely the last familiar faces that I will see for a long time (I don't really know anyone who lives south of here). I have also been taking some much needed time to plan the next stages of my trip. As some of you might have guessed, I have to cross over the Alps in a few days. It is a pretty big hill, and I want to make sure I'm running over it in the prettiest way. It is important that you go the pretty way when you are planning on climbing 1,622 meters in two days.
The run into Zurich was pretty easy and straightforward. The constant flickering rain/sun has continued, but I got into the city without a problem with one of the shortest runs that I have had in a while. I met Nic in the center of town, and we went around and visited the campuses of the ETH (a place that I'm thinking about spending some time at some point). During the tour I got to stop by the digital fabrication shop here (where Tom is interning for the summer) which really got me going. I had seen the guys here lecture at Columbia a while back, and since then I have been in love with the work that goes on here. They have a robotic arm that assembles bricks in incredibly complex patterns based on digital models (among other things). I want this robot so badly. The technology in digital fabrication is moving very quickly, but seeing what is possible today only makes me want more to come even faster. It is hard for me to wait to get back to that world, but I'm sure I'll be even more ready to get some good work done when the time comes. For now, it is running and more inspiration.
Zurich is a great city, and from the lake you have a majestic view of the mountains that I'll have to be crossing in a matter of days. They look cold and big.
Nic has many good friends here, and I spent the weekend partying with him until 4 am each night. He lives a half hour drive or so out of the city though, so I've been going with him back and forth to Aarau pretty frequently. Nic is not much bigger than me, so he let me borrow some clothes for the weekend, and I felt kind of strange walking around in normal clothes (including shoes and pants that were a couple sizes too big). The 'going out' scene here is pretty huge, and I had a lot of fun with Nic and his friends. One major downside however is the fact that it is legal to smoke indoors in Switzerland. All of my clothes would reek of cigarettes at the end of each night, and I frequently feel a little bit nauseous from spending too much time in a cloud of second hand smoke. Add that nausea to way too much whiskey and a windy drive back to Aarau at five in the morning and you'll find my dinner flying out the window of a moving car and an early morning car wash. I've gotten used to that kind of math...
I walked around the city a bit each day, checking out the old parts and the new. I saw the Stadelhofen train station, an earlier project by Santiago Calatrava, and was pleased and amazed to see that it wasn't composed of long white pointy things.
I also caught the end of the Zurich Ironman going by.
"Look, other runners!"
"They look tired..."
With all the running I've been doing, I still think that an Ironman would really, really suck.
I have also gotten fairly used to everyone here calling me Forrest Gump. I guess it is really the only popularly known example of someone running places alone...and while the story is pretty much completely different, I guess we both like running and eating chocolates. Almost every runner in the states has heard "Run Forrest Run!" mockingly shouted at them by some little punk on the side of the road. Take that same zeal and multiply it by every person I've met, and I've basically got a new second name.
I am currently sitting in a computer lab at the ETH, working on planning my next few stages. With the spacing of the towns, and the fact that I'm going up a pretty serious hill, I think I'll be doing some shorter days for the next week or so. Tonight I will stay with Tom in the city and head towards Baar in the morning. From there I will head south until I catch up to the No. 2 "wanderweg" which I will follow until I arrive in Italy...
I also don't have any prearranged places to stay for at least a week, so it looks like I'll be touching up on my Swiss German.

Day 49

2009-07-10T21:16:00.001+02:00

Miriam, Simon and I, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

30.7 Kilometers.
I woke up late at Jeremy's place in Schaffhausen, he had gone to work and left me the key to put in the mailbox when I left, and I got a solid 10 hours of sleep, a make up for the night before. I went about town for a bit and ran some errands which included buying a new Swiss SIM card. The currency here is pretty close to the dollar, so it is strange thinking on those terms again without too much math. Everything is incredibly expensive here though...
I started heading towards Winterthur, starting with a sore walk for a couple kilometers which gradually evolved into a comfortable run. The way was pretty straightforward, but I got mixed up when the small highway I was running along evolved into something bigger...but somehow I stumbled upon a "wanderweg" (footpath) with a sign pointing to Winterthur. From then on, it was smooth sailing on mostly gravel trails. It has been raining off and on here for several days, but it seems that as soon as I take out my jacket it always stops...and then when I put it away it starts again. I have learned to stop bothering with the jacket/drawback/cell phone Ziplock for now.
I got into Winterthur and wandered towards the house of Miriam and Simon...people who had sent me an e-mail after finding my blog, suggesting that Winterthur would be a better stop than what I had planned. I am pretty flexible with minor changes to my route now that I am actually doing it. You can get a better sense of a place by the people who live there than by looking down at a map. I had no idea what I would be heading towards, having only seen a few words and a name in an e-mail, I just had to fall back on trust and some good precedence.
As I got close to the house, someone said my name ("Hey, nobody knows who I am here!"). I turned to find Simon, the young man behind the name in the e-mail. We went back to the apartment, where I took a shower and met Miriam who put my ash and sweat covered cloths in the wash. I lucked out with this blind meeting...they are a great couple with a cool apartment and a taste of music and style that is similar to my own back at school. Simon lent me a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, and after dinner we went hand had a drink at a local bar/club. It was pretty strange wearing normal clothes...but a good feeling. When we got back Simon and Miriam made up my bed and said goodnight, and I spent a long time on the computer writing my story from the day before (I normally write on borrowed computers or in Internet cafes...not on my cell phone keypad). I was well tired when I turned off the light and closed my eyes for the night.

Days 47-48

2009-07-10T01:41:00.001+02:00

Schwarzwald 8, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

116.9 Kilometers.
I'm still alive.
I set out into the Schwarzwald (Black Forest) around 11 am from Freiburg, and found myself instantly on some of the most beautiful trails I have ever run. Coming from the Pacific Northwest, I have been spoiled by nice trails...but these were like none I had ever seen. I just had to follow the right colored diamonds, so I didn't have to worry about stopping to check out my map at every fork (none of these trails are on my map anyways). When I left in the morning, I knew that I had to choose between three short days in the Schwarzwald or two long ones (the latter would put me in Zurich by Friday).
A fast 31.5 Kilometers put me in Hinterzarten, where I could have potentially stopped for the night. I felt like I could keep going, but I went into the tourism office to see if they could suggest anything for me. The man informed me that the place I would be heading towards was not a town at all, but just a spot in the middle of a gorge. There were no places to stay there, he said while showing me the map, suggesting that I stop in a closer town. For me though, if I continued on, I had to go far enough to where I could get to Switzerland in the next day. If I wasn't going to make it at least half way, I might as well stop where I was. The map that he had showed many places in the forest where there were caves, castle ruins and covered campfire areas, so I figured I could find a place in the forest even without a tent or sleeping bag and camp for the night. I asked for the cheapest restaurant in town, and bought the map that he had shown me. I spent about an hour eating some Blackforest ham and cherry cake while planning my next move. To get over the huge amount of food in my stomach, I walked a couple kilometers to Titisee where I looked for all the supplies I thought I would need for the night. I found a little box of matches for free at the pharmacy, and headed to the little grocery store to find some things to eat. I ran out of town with a Capri Sun, two nectarines, a mini baguette thing, four bratwursts and three candy bars (Bounty, Snickers, Marzipan Ritter) figuring that I would have enough for both dinner and a light breakfast. When I bought the bratwurst, I had the option of buying some precooked sausage, but I thought to myself "I'm camping, of course I will have a fire."
Along the route, I made some detours to find some castles that were marked on my map. All I found was several minutes of stingy nettles and nothing. I decided that castles were not my best option, and that I would run to the next covered cooking area and stop there. The trails were amazing, and I found myself happily making the climbs and discovering the views with the additional weight of food on my back.
I arrived at the Schattenmühle hut and fire pit before 8 pm, having covered a stupidly huge 62.4 kilometers to get there. I had eaten the Bounty bar during the run, and when I arrived I ate a nectarine and the Ritter Sport and drank my Capri Sun. I was shocked to find that the place was not actually a covered fire pit, but a fire pit and a covered building which were not connected. My plan to sleep sheltered and near a fire was ruined. I cursed my map.
The "camp site" was near a road which had a construction trailer on it, so I spent much of the remaining daylight trying to get into it with tools fashioned from a rusty tent stake that I found nearby. No dice. I also gathered a bunch of wood, but because it had rained, most of it was pretty damp. As it started to get dark, I started to feel hungry and impatient to have a fire going. I quickly built a little tepee out of the sticks that felt the most dry, and tore up some of the now useless pieces of my map and tried to get a fire started. The wood was too wet, and it wasn't long before I was sitting in the dark with no fire and no more matches. Fire is a difficult thing. You have to be patient with it. Around midnight, I went and waited by the side of the road, hungry and tired, for a car to come by. I got a lighter from a woman and headed back to try to make magic happen. I gathered all of the dry sticks and leaves from around the hut and tried to make my fire. It wasn't enough, and the lighter was almost out of fluid and wouldn't start...and it was starting to rain. I resolved that I would go to sleep and try again in the morning. I ate the little piece of bread and the last nectarine and pulled out my space blanket and sprawled out on the hard wooden bench. I maybe slept for a few minutes off and on, but I was cold and my stomach was grumbling. Around 3 am, I decided to make another try with the fire. I went out onto the road and waited again. I got a lighter from a pair of construction workers that drove by and went back to start my fire. I found an old board that was dry on the backside of the hut (under many heavy clay shingles) and spent some time jumping on it and throwing rocks at it to break it up into manageable pieces. I built a perfect tepee and used the last of my map as starter fluid. I smiled at my success, the fire was starting and I was ready to eat. Just as my little friend crackled its first strong breath, it started pouring with rain. Minutes later I was underneath the hut with some rescued wood, cold legs, tired eyes and raw bratwurst. It was 3:30 am and my spirit was breaking. "Why did I buy food that needed to be cooked?" I tried to go to sleep, sitting upright in a fetal position in my space blanket igloo. Somehow I managed to sleep until 5 am, when the sun came up and I resolved to try to make a fire one last time.
This time, I was patient. I didn't have any more paper, so I spent an hour and a half picking slivers off of the board that I had found, producing as much tinder as I could. My hands were trembling and cold, and my legs were wrapped in my (useless) space blanket...but I was patient. It was raining, so I built my structure on a portable wooden base that I could move outside when it stopped. Around 7, I had a beautiful little structure of tepees within tepees full of hand generated sawdust and a found cigarette-butt fuse. As soon as it stopped raining for a second, I carefully carried my precious little friend to the fire and tried lighting it. After a couple flint strikes, a fire started to grow, and I wrapped my hands around it in desperation. "Take my warmth, whatever you need...just live!" Man did it live. Tired cold and covered in ash, I saw my friend grow through bloodshot eyes...one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. I threw my bratwursts on the grill and ignored the drizzling rain. I would eat this morning. Those bratwursts are among of the greatest things I have ever eaten. It was 8 am, and I had to cover 55 more kilometers to get to my destination in Switzerland.
Tired and still a bit hungry, I started walking east to Achdorf where I would transfer trails and continue south. On the way I found a snack hut where I got some sports drink and some food, along with a bag of Gummi Bears (which I had to eat while still in Germany). The trails were muddy, and the forest that was paradise the day before was a completely different place. Tired, I stumbled through the forest, taking some time to explore abandoned structures or caves along the way that might have been better places to stop the night before. I also stopped to take a nap on a bench in a field, and I arrived in Achdorf around 18 kilometers later under drizzling rain. Somehow it was nearly three o'clock when I arrived, and I still had nearly 37 kilometers to go. I took the mandatory first couple steps, and started to run. I needed to get into Schaffhausen (Switzerland) before too late. The trails were incredible. Much better than the day before, and so much clearer than the trails that I had been on in the morning. It was like paradise, I ran along narrow trails in lush green forest along cliff edges and over tangled roots by stones that were carved to look like mythical beings. Tired as I was, it was incredible. Too bad the battery in my camera was close to dead. I didn't take any photos...you'll have to see it for yourself. Running on trails like that is like dancing, you move fast and without thinking, subconsciously finding the proper footholds through roots and rocks. On occasion, I would slip and feel certain that I was about to die at the perils of a steep cliff...only to catch myself with the other foot. I ran the rest of the run with the lyrics to a Johnny Cash song stuck in my head: "That's one you owe me, I let you slide..." One foot to the other...my feet make good teammates.
I arrived in Schaffhausen in the evening, wiped out and bleary eyed, unshaven and covered in ash and the smell of campfire. I was pretty sure that I couldn't make another night outside...so I started my general process of wandering around hoping that a miracle happens. I wandered around town and through a castle. I withdrew some Swiss Francs (from a Swiss bank!) and got some dinner at a Chinese takeaway place. I spoke with some young people who informed me that I would be hard pressed to find hospitable people in the country. "People are just cold here and unwelcoming of strangers." I sure hoped not.
After some other uneventful events, I found myself in Cross Box, a backpackers bar and hostel in town. I ordered a beer and started talking with the bartender, who put me in touch with the head bartender. After explaining myself in some pretty terrible German, and asking if there were any nice locals in the bar, she told me she would look about. She returned with two young men and a place to stay. I had a drink with Jeremy and Michael and discussed some common interests in music. They are some pretty awesome dudes. I was wiped out and so excited to have a place to sleep. Jeremy's roommate was out for the night, so I had a bed to myself, and I took a shower and slept for a solid 10 hours. It was amazing. I love bed.

Days 45-46

2009-07-07T01:34:00.001+02:00

Roof Dinner, Freiburg, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

31.2 Kilometers.
After getting across the border for the fourth, I was ready to take a long awaited (since Paris) day off in Freiburg. I had slept until noon after the long day before, and after spending some time eating lunch and catching up on some computer usage, I got my things put together and started heading to Freiburg after four pm. The run was smooth, except for a few 16 percent grade hills, but I got into Freiburg before long. When I got into town I bought a cold chocolate milk (milk in Germany is refrigerated!), and thought for a second that it was curious that it came in a glass bottle. Seconds later, when I stepped outside and the bottle slipped out of my tired and sweaty hands and shattered on the floor before I could drink it, I also pondered why it came in a glass bottle. So much for my cold chocolate milk. Scheiße.
I met up with my host Aline and had some dinner on the roof with some of her friends and roommates, and then we watched the French movie about Edith Piaf until everyone was too tired to finish it. It was in French without subtitles, as every young person in this flat speaks English, French, and German incredibly well...except for me. I got the gist though.
On my day off, I wandered around town, looking at some of the old architecture and trying to not step in the open gutters that run along the streetsides. My day went like this: Pretzel, Münsterworst, Ice Cream, Kinder, Ice Cream, Beer, Schintzel, Beer, Fries, Pretzel, Wine. Between eating, I spent some time checking out the maps of the region for my next couple of days, eventually deciding upon a vague route where I just take things as they come. Story of my life I guess.
I had dinner with Aline and her friend Miriam, and watched the sunset on the roof with some more young students from the flat or the area. Now I am tired and wondering what will happen tomorrow. I am trying to work out a trail route through the Blackforest, but I have no idea what the trails are like or how challenging they will be. I'm just going to head east on the Freiburg-Konstanz transverse trail and see where it takes me, eventually (after one or two days) meeting up with the Ostweg trail which heads south into Switzerland.

Day 44

2009-07-05T15:16:00.001+02:00

Day 44, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

28.5 Kilometers.
Au revoir France, Gutentag Deutschland!
Happy Independence Day! I made it to Germany! Wake up PJ!
The run was straightforward but not incredibly scenic, along the side of a busy two lane highway with no shoulder. Halfway through I had to stop in the woods and use the emergency toilet paper that I have been carrying around since I left Columbia...it seems the French Thai food hit me pretty hard. The toilet paper has been through a lot (NYC plus 1,200 km of European roads inside of a calcium bottle), but sadly it never made it to Germany. It did get all ripped up though and and coated in minty calcium...so it was a little bit less of a pleasant experience than it could have been...
Anyways, a little over 2 hours after I left Mulhouse, France, I arrived in Badenweiler, Germany and met up with my couchsurfing host Anna. I let my legs cool in the stream that runs near her house, had a shower and passed out on the futon for an hour or so. Some friends of Anna were having a party outside of Freiburg (my next destination), so around 7 we rode bikes down to the train station, and took the train into Freiburg. Once we got there, we stopped by the grocery store and rode out of town, and then hiked a mile up a hill to get to a little castle. We watched the sunset from a the top of the tower (the view was awesome), and then built a fire at its base. I spent the night hanging out with a bunch of cool people (who all spoke perfect English) who played some music and grilled some good food. I even heard some country songs and had some beer and Bratwurst (the closest I got to a hot dog)...apart from the lack of fireworks and the whole not being in the US thing, it was pretty much a normal 4th of July.
Around 1 AM we made the walk and bike ride back to the train station, and after getting off the train, we had a half hour bike ride up a hill to get home. Definitely one of those days where my legs hate me. I think they will hate me more for making them run back to Freiburg now...

Day 43

2009-07-04T12:21:00.001+02:00

Photographer, day 43, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

47 Kilometers.
I set out around 10:30 towards Mulhouse, where I had found a place to stay through couchsurfing. On the way, I was called by Justin, an Australian photographer living in Zurich who was trying to find me to take a photo of me while running. Through some crazy chain of events, and some friends passing around the word, I guess my trip has been deemed worthy of an article in the NY Post (if you're in NY, get the paper this Sunday!)...which is pretty cool, but also pretty nuts. It was pretty weird for me having a photographer drive out to find me while running. I felt like a celebrity. Don't tell anyone, but I'm actually a normal kid who likes to run who went to Europe with a backpack and a blog so that his Mom could know that he wasn't dead every day (still alive Mama!). Cool to see that I can maybe inspire or entertain some other people though...and maybe find some more places to stay!
Anyways, after much calling back and forth between Justin and I (where I was always arriving in the next town by the time he got to the last one), he managed to track me down and I spent some time running around in circles for the camera. He would drive ahead a little ways and take another photo when I got to him. He kept asking me for less smiley photos...which was pretty difficult for me to do. I smile a lot in general, and the whole scenario was pretty funny. The run took quite a bit longer than it should of, and Justin headed back to Zurich when I had about 25 km to go. It was the closest I've gotten to having someone run along side me in 43 days.
It was an incredibly hot all day, but as soon as I got near Mulhouse it started pouring down with rain. Luckily I had finally broke and accepted the disposable poncho from Claire back in Belfort. I met up with my couchsurfing host Efi in the center of town, everything dry except my fingers and shoes.
I took a shower and blow-dried my shoes, and Efi and I headed out back into the middle of town to get some dinner. We went to a Thai restaurant, which was awesome for me. I haven't eaten spicy food since I left NY, and the restaurant was nice enough to give me an extra little bowl of fresh Thai chillies. It wasn't long before my craving for heat was satisfied and I had the hiccups. After dinner, we watched a little concert in the middle of town. There is a big car convention going on in Mulhouse this weekend, so there was a french guy singing 1950's American rock and roll. It was a pretty awesome last night in France.

Day 42

2009-07-04T11:38:00.002+02:00

Lion Belfort, originally uploaded by Ryan Runs Europe.

22 Kilometers.
I realize now that my 'space' blanket is worthless. My legs were very very cold during the night, and I found myself trying many different arrangements throughout the night in the tent to make myself more warm. Rustling around all night with the giant piece of tin foil, I accidentally ripped a corner off of it. All the blanket seemed to do was capture my sweat...so I was cold and wet. When it got warm towards the morning, I finally got some smooth sleep, and I slept well and late...waking up hot and face down with tarp lines and drool all over my face. The best way to start a run. After packing up and returning the tent, I set out towards Belfort. The run was short, and I arrived around noon.
I gave my couchsurfing host Claire a call, and she met me in the center of town. I took a shower and we had lunch, and she set out for her day of work at the local tattoo parlor. While she worked, I intended to get a ton of things done, including my laundry, my e-mail and some sight seeing. I like to do my laundry on occasion with a machine, because I normally just rinse it by hand, and after about a week my stuff starts to look a little bit more brown than it should. So, I set out towards the laundromat, walking about ten minutes only to find that there was no soap for sale. I turn around and walk for another ten minutes back to the grocery store to buy the smallest box of soap they sell...which was still way too big for a single load, but I figure I can leave it in the laundromat for the next traveller. When I get back to the laundromat, however, all of the machines are in use, so I look up the address of the other laundromat in town, and walk for 25 minutes to get there. It is incredibly hot outside, and because I am washing both of my shorts and t-shirts, I am walking around with a black long sleeve shorts, and black athletic pants with no underwear. I feel pretty muggy, but I make it to the other laundromat with my box of soap in hand. The price of a wash is an amazingly expensive 6 euros. After all this trouble, I feel like I need to pay it, and throw my clothes in the machine. I open up the box of soap that I bought, only to find that there is no place to put it. It is then that I notice a sign above the machine that says that soap is included in the wash. I guess that explains the price a little bit...but what kind of black magic is that? After walking about for an additional hour in search of soap and another laundry facility, I could have just used the first place without doing anything extra. Argh. So, I turn on the machine, not putting any soap in, and sit around in the heat (barefoot now) waiting for my things to wash before drying them. When I take my things out almost 4 hours after I started this whole epic laundry journey, they aren't not much cleaner than when they started, and my white shirt still has some brown stuff all over it that makes it really look like it belongs to a homeless person...and now that I've dried it, it is probably heat set in there. What a practical use of my day.
At seven, I met Claire at her work, and we had some dinner and met up with her friend Céline for a drink at a local pub. Afterwards, we went off to walk around the castle that I hadn't had time to explore during the day. During our walk, I saw the famous giant lion statue for which Belfort is famous. I guess it has an interesting history, but it's main impact on me was getting that Lion King song stuck in my head. "Nants ingonyama Bagithi Baba..."