I had honestly never even heard of Slovenia before this trip…..yay Americans and our stunning knowledge of the world!

We went into the Postjama cave [I am most definitely spelling that wrong], which I had actually heard of before on the Discovery Channel, they are famous for being the natural habitat to a salamander that is without vision or pigment. I’d only been in one set of caves before, but this one blew the others away, and possibly any other cave I will ever see.

You learn that stalagmites in the cave are 60,000 years old, and its almost certain that some parts of the caves have never been seen by human eyes. It’s honestly in places like that where I have a more spiritual experience than any church or cathedral could offer me. 

The people in Slovenia were surprising as well. Our cave tour guide informed us that from childhood all kids in Slovenia are taught English, so literally every person we encountered in the country spoke fluent English, even American slang. And where France was all about wearing black and having bangs and dark hair, in Slovenia it was all about having red or purple hair and parted hair straight-ironed to hell and back……a common theme in the two countries: lots of eye makeup, and lacy tights. Honestly, H&M must make a fortune selling lace socks.

Italy was hands down home to the tastiest meal we’ve had on our worldy travels thus far [and with only a few days left, I doubt it will find any rivals]. With that being said, Italy was also home to some of the worsts as well:

Congrats Italy, you’ve won the award for shittiest public bathrooms [pun fully intended!]. I mean, what civilized place thinks “hm, people keep urinating on the toilet seats, so let’s just remove the seat part and add in a constant whirl of water for effect?” It is mind-boggling how elderly people [or anyone without thighs of steel] can regularly use those toilets, especially if anything more than numero uno is going on.

Italy also was home of the pigeons. Granted, these pigeons had more charm than French pigeons, which were just as snobby as their human counterparts. But, tourists in Venice seem to think the pigeons are an attraction. I don’t care how friendly a pigeon is, I am not throwing bread all around me and then sitting on the ground so I can be covered in pigeons.

Finally, a foreign insect in my hotel room decided to bite my on my face, so for the past several days I’ve had a bright red bug bite broadcasting from my cheek.

Otherwise, I purchased a beautiful Venetian mask, and watched a glass-making demo in Murano. And it was quite interesting how the people in Venice use boats the same way the rest of Europe depends on the trains.

For all those Postal Service fans in the world. [get it?!]

So on Thursday I took the train from Paris to London…after three days of only being able to speak to my mom and Glenn, I was ecstatic to be around English speakers again. Surprisingly, there is still a language barrier. I knew the easy words: loo, mates, university [instead of college]. But bakeries are called patisseries, six-thirty is half-six, sausages are ‘bangers’, and yard is called garden.

Our hosts in London were Alex and Rachel. Alex is Glenn’s relative, and Rachel his wife. They were quite lovely, and while we toured alone during the days, in the evenings Alex and Rachel would keep us well entertained. Several things I found interesting about London:

- The underground serves over 1 billion people annually, and there’s more than 200 tube stations in London alone….and for some bloody terrible reason, they run the heat in the tubes even when its packed full of people and 80 degrees out.

-public toilets don’t exist in London. You can buy something from a shop and be able to use their loo, or you can hold it until you get back to your flat. But otherwise, you’re going to have to pay anywhere from 50p to a pound to use the loo.

-the English pound is worth nearly twice the American dollar. So that means when you absolutely MUST pee [and those who know my bladder know that’s about every 25 minutes] you hafta shell out US$1-2 each time.

-Charles Darwin is buried in West Minister Abbey, which is amusing as his theories of evolution are the shining armor for atheists.

-The Tower of London is where all the King Henry’s hung out, as well as other Kings. Sadly, it is also where the Boleyn sisters and Catherine Somethingorother all lost their heads. It is required by law that six ravens be kept on grounds at the Tower of London at all times. The day before we were there, a raven made a break for it, and the soldiers had to recapture the raven whilst it was sitting outside of a mcdonalds with some blackbirds. I wish I were kidding.

After London we skipped off to Lighthorne, which is about 90 minutes north of London. We went to a semi-annual event there known as ‘Club Paradiso” put on by our new hosts, Russell and Sarah [Alex’s parents]. We spent the evening dancing to covers of the Rolling Stones, The Kinks, and a LOT of The Beatles [big surprise there]. Since then we have explored the Cotswolds, which is English countryside set on limestone from a million years ago or so- think of rolling landscapes. There are oodles of tiny towns, villages, and hamlets, and pubs EVERYWHERE. Pubs are different than I expected, there’s often a ‘traditional’ part of the menu and then ‘modern’ stuff, such as a hamburger…but you can get fish n chips just about anywhere in England, it seems.

Today we did a six mile hike through the Cotswolds, where sheep and wild garlic flourished, lending to a very interesting smell.

Overall I love England, and the people are far friendly than they were in Paris, but the weather is terrible. It goes from being 40 degrees and raining to being 80 and sunny in the same hour, and sometimes I find myself sweating or shivering simply depending on if I’m in the sun or the shade.

I could definitely see myself partying it up in London, though. Europeans do it right, you just take the underground home after the pub :)

So after 48 hours in France [most of which spent in Paris] I have discovered several things about both the country and my parents.

Parisians wear black. 90% of the native people you’ll see are wearing some form of black. Ladies, if you go to Paris and want to fit in, throw comfort to the wind. Women are running around the metro in stilettos, and EVERY girl is wearing black tights. Black tights with jean shorts? Check. Black tights with a bright blue dress? Check. Wearing long pants? No worries, just wear tights under your pants so when you sit down we can all tell you’re wearing them.

Men are attractive, and don’t mind letting you know if they think the same of you. The last time I felt in such high demand was on myspace [please see below post].

Life doesn’t really start until 9-10am, and most people don’t wrap things up for the evening until about 10pm on a weeknight. And they tend to buy fresh bread, wrap it in napkins, and eat it while walking down the street.

My mother is OBSESSED with pick-pockets. She is convinced everyone everywhere is about to steal your wallet.

My mother falls asleep every time she rides the metro.

Everyone actually rides the metro or train, and people perform on it for money. They also like to people watch, to the point where the sidewalk seating in the cafes sometimes only face the street….couples in Paris sit next to each other while dining instead of across like we do State-side, I believe this is so a] they can gossip about the dumb americans dressed not in black, and b] so they can more easily make out whenever they feel the need.

Overall, it’s an amazingly beautiful country, full of beautiful and snooty people who love tights and bread. As soon as I buy some tights and start regularly wearing a beret, I am going to fit right in ;]