Blazing sun merges through my skin and spreads around, leaving ultra violet traces. Continues searches of shades to shelter myself. And my body yet is boiling. The water reflects my sweating forehead. Ah, i can’t escape it. Ah, I am captured. Venice, Sacile, Milan.
Yo! So quite some time has passed since I came back after having a mini euro trip, but I was too busy getting off my tail to write for my imaginary audience. The route was (more or less) Lithuania- Eindhoven- Amsterdam- Rome-Florence-Venice-Sacile-Udine-Milan-Lithuania. I know that Jeff Schaffer’s Euro Trip is pretty much wrapped up in erotic charm, but my personal experience was a bit of a let down, in comparison with that department. If someone would ask me to tell an hour long story about the Colosseum I would probably tell him or her to wank off. Why? Because I wasn’t infected with a monument-explaining-diarrhea, since I don’t need no brochures (and education). I prefer having a non-touristic experience while travelling, thus, when I can, I reside with the locals. Walking down the small street, following a bunch of locals to a petite corner cafe that has jawgasmic fresh sandwiches and doesn’t cost an arm and a leg has its own pizzazz, I guess. Getting lost and finding your way, buying fruits at the market and laying down at the park most likely wouldn’t make up for a script, but it’s good enough for a real life scenario.