- There will always, always be sweat. It will cover your skin. I became sweaty when I was drying off from a shower, for Christ’s sake.
- Fat men can snore at a volume loud enough to drown out passing traffic outside the open windows. Last night was the first time I’ve poked someone’s bed to shut them the fuck up.
- Mosquitoes, vampire flies, are annoying. I have upwards of 20 bites, which while making me look all kinds of sexy, is somewhat irritating. One of them has swollen up and gone all bruisy on my ankle. The one thing I forgot to pack – cortizone-related cream.
- Things I value most in a hostel – good directions from the train station, both walking and public transport (because if it’s under 2kms, I’ll always elect to walk); an abundance of power sockets in the rooms (hostel owners take note, you can never, never have too many power sockets); more than one toilet per floor; helpful front desk staff.
- Hostels will screw you over on prices of things they sell if they possibly can. Case in point, I purchased a bottle of water from the supermarket adjacent to my hostel in Ravenna and it cost me E0.14 (I appear not to have a Euro symbol on my keyboard). That’s fourteen cents, so approximately 11p in British money, or, like, free in Dollars. I then had to purchase another one from the hostel here in Ferarra (Sunday, shops closed) and for the exact same bottle and brand, they charged E2. So, that happened.
- Italy closes for the summer. Literally, every establishment closes and just leaves for three weeks every August. There are signs on shop doors saying “Closed 7-28 August, ciao”, and not a single fuck is given. This strikes me as lacking in business acumen, but hey ho. Good thing I’m leaving Italy.
- Ciao seems to be a catch-all word of pretty much any use. Meet someone new, “ciao”, leaving for the day, “ciao”, thanking someone for your shopping, “ciao”. The closest I can imagine it meaning in English is something along the lines of “alright”, or perhaps colloquially “word, bitches.”