With only a month and three weeks left in Spain I have decided to move onto my third language. Well technically practice my second language because French came before Spanish for me, but no one really cares about technicalities. For example, I once fought five people, by myself, and won, now technically they were all sleeping nursing home patients with heart conditions, but no one needs to hear that part of the story. So French, language of fries and toast, formerly of romance, but then too many creepers with greasy mustaches started speaking it. I have several reasons for relearning this language, some personal, some general. My main personal reason for buffing my french is that I have a great friend who will be bringing his family to visit me this summer in Canada and I can't wait to see him. General reasons, aka why anyone would learn French, one, it is a widely spoken language, and two, the women. I know that I bashed the romanticism of French just a moment ago, but that is just on an overall/worldwide level, for the individual it can be very useful, as long as you don't grow ridiculous facial hair patterns. French is most useful for picking up American girls who think it is beautiful but have no real idea what you're saying. Trying to pick up a French girl with French is significantly more difficult because you're no longer allowed to spout gibberish in her complicated language. I would like to get to a level where I can speak French as well as I speak Spanish because there are some fairly attractive European women, and I hear with just two to three weeks of training they can learn to shave their legs, sit, and roll over. I learned it from a book 'Man's best friend, how to communicate and train,' so I assume I'll be making great friends, also according to this book I'll be able to get all the bitches I've ever dreamed of.
Now just for some random updates and observations of Spain. I have been exercising a fair amount this year, however my routines have not been what a normal person would describe as enjoyable. Running long distance alone, strength and core work outs alone, weeping to myself at night because of how lonely I am, with a spotter. For me exercising alone is not terrible, I just have to imagine I'm training for the zombie apocalypse (It's unavoidable, I've seen the documentaries), but every so often I enjoy utilizing what I worked for. I have not played Ultimate Frisbee in eight months, not only do I miss the adrenaline and competition but I miss how laid back it was. I have played some pick up basketball and pickup soccer here in Spain (not very often but more on this in a later post), and people get intense and people get pissed. I think that was the main reason I quit most team sports, screwing up for the team. So on the other side there is breakdancing, but since my host apartment is not designed for the violent, flailing motions invloved in bboying I have to practice outside, in public. In the U.S I had a crew, basically a group of people who help one another out and ward off haters. Haters are like mosquito with slightly larger brains, they buzz annoyingly, suck what they can, but all it really takes is a good slap to get rid of one. Unfortunately with their advanced brain function they learn to suck at one's back, which isn't a problem if you have a friend to guard you, but all alone I feel vulnerable to the hate. I have tried to find other dancers in Spain but I think learning to dance is too embarrassing for them. So I dance alone, without music, strangers watching as they pass by, sometimes I give one or two a bitch slap, just in case.
During one of my runs recently I came to accept some realities about the United States versus Europe. I passed by a woman on my run who was taking an active interest to help out the global population crisis, by chain smoking cigarettes. But her commitment did not stop there, while smoking she was also sticking her head in a stroller to comfort a baby, reassuring the child that he would be consuming the earth's precious resources for far fewer years than the selfish bastards like me. The only problem I find with smoking as a way to control the population is that it's just too damn sexy, smokers promptly ruin the benefit they're having on the planet by reproducing like rabbits. In America we have far fewer smokers, but our drive to save the planet is no less powerful, in fact I believe we are doing a better job. With fast food we have solved the tobacco conundrum, lower life expectancy and less attractive as a reproduction partner. Unfortunately fast food just doesn't agree with me so I can't do my part to keep the population down because I'm already cursed with extreme sexiness. Were I to start smoking sure I would die a few years earlier but with the added attractiveness, by my calculations, the planet would be unable to support my offspring by the year 2027 with my children making up 12% of the world population. It's a tough life.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
My family
They are coming, again. No warning has yet been issued to the people of Spain because of the wide spread panic such an announcement would cause. Their last spree through San Sebastian, Madrid, and Barcelona caused enough emotional scarring that Spain has seen a triple in the demand of psychiatrists. It is impossible to determine how much damage was caused by the inappropriate jokes or tasteless movie quotes, but the results have been devastating. The second invasion will include two more offspring of the Kingston man (along with two unrelated, but equally insane, counterparts to the spawn) I interviewed average citizens on the streets of Spain, they had the following reactions: 42% demanded the government start evacuations of the areas that would be hardest hit, 23% ran screaming from the scene, 33% had a PTSD flashback and curled into a ball, and the remaining two percent backed away muttering 'No, no, can't be, they're... they're just a myth.'
Yes, my family is coming to Spain and I'm feeling giddy and energized, along with a few other symptoms that come along with high doses of illicit substances. I have been preparing for this visit by buffing up on my Spanish because as far as I know my family's collective Spanish has yet to expand past several key phrases, such as, 'Where is the beer?' 'What types of beer do you have?' 'We would like another round of beer.' 'Yes, the liter glasses please.' 'I have once again clogged your toilet.' Although in theory that is enough Spanish for them to survive one tends to forget that even with all that vocab they would still be unable to purchase gin or rum.
My family's visit is not the only activity I have planned for the second half of April. I will be in Madrid two days before my parents arrive to celebrate the birthday of a friend. Then after my family leaves I come back to San Sebastian to relax for a few days before my host city will be invaded by a gang only slightly less insane than my parents, Rotary exchange students. However these 'students' have been present in Spain for seven months so hopefully a natural defense has had time to develop enough to protect the city from the potent form of insanity that will build exponentially for every exchanger added.
Less than a week separates me from that band of socially taboo lunatics, and I could not be happier. When you grow up in a family where absolutely everything is open to discussion (from political views, to sexuality, to symptoms of a current disease you might have) it becomes the norm. Sure it can lead to some situations of TMI (Too Much Information, for those of you not in the texting generation), but I would rather have that than being left in the dark. Sure my dad doesn't need to know who won the blood donation race between me and mom, just like I don't need to know about the three way battle between his lower intestine, the indoor plumbing, and the Mexican food. However, I've gotten so used to saying whatever come to mind that living any other way is taxing, just all these unused thoughts bouncing around in my head.
So attention Spain, the Kingstons may cure shame, misunderstandings, awkwardness, shyness, and sobriety. Side effects may include, Bridge, Boratism, and spontaneous combustion of your dysfunctional man parts. So prepare yourself, it's gonna be a party.
Yes, my family is coming to Spain and I'm feeling giddy and energized, along with a few other symptoms that come along with high doses of illicit substances. I have been preparing for this visit by buffing up on my Spanish because as far as I know my family's collective Spanish has yet to expand past several key phrases, such as, 'Where is the beer?' 'What types of beer do you have?' 'We would like another round of beer.' 'Yes, the liter glasses please.' 'I have once again clogged your toilet.' Although in theory that is enough Spanish for them to survive one tends to forget that even with all that vocab they would still be unable to purchase gin or rum.
My family's visit is not the only activity I have planned for the second half of April. I will be in Madrid two days before my parents arrive to celebrate the birthday of a friend. Then after my family leaves I come back to San Sebastian to relax for a few days before my host city will be invaded by a gang only slightly less insane than my parents, Rotary exchange students. However these 'students' have been present in Spain for seven months so hopefully a natural defense has had time to develop enough to protect the city from the potent form of insanity that will build exponentially for every exchanger added.
Less than a week separates me from that band of socially taboo lunatics, and I could not be happier. When you grow up in a family where absolutely everything is open to discussion (from political views, to sexuality, to symptoms of a current disease you might have) it becomes the norm. Sure it can lead to some situations of TMI (Too Much Information, for those of you not in the texting generation), but I would rather have that than being left in the dark. Sure my dad doesn't need to know who won the blood donation race between me and mom, just like I don't need to know about the three way battle between his lower intestine, the indoor plumbing, and the Mexican food. However, I've gotten so used to saying whatever come to mind that living any other way is taxing, just all these unused thoughts bouncing around in my head.
So attention Spain, the Kingstons may cure shame, misunderstandings, awkwardness, shyness, and sobriety. Side effects may include, Bridge, Boratism, and spontaneous combustion of your dysfunctional man parts. So prepare yourself, it's gonna be a party.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Italy pt. 5
I'm cursed with barely being able to control my stream of thoughts and thus end up rambling endlessly about topics that might have very little to do with what I'm actually writing about. So now I'm going to try and cover four days in one post, readers should probably take a break half-way through so as to not become suicidal.
After the camping we visited two villages in Tuscany on our way to Rome. Now things like 'Geography' or 'facts' may prove that there is no possible way we drove through Tuscany on our way to Rome, but I'm just calling it how my fuzzy memory remembers it. My diary isn't much help because the guy writing it is mentally unstable from what I can tell, or just has a serious case of ADD, either way I can't rely on that either. So. Tuscany was nice, although I wanted to experience it differently than most of my friends. I wanted to take the wander around and explore route, while they preferred the sit down and take pictures of attractive strangers route. Seriously, whenever I think I'm the creepiest of creepers someone else takes it to a whole different level. Although I did enjoy listening to the birds and contemplating the landscape I hoped that the Basques would be more active when we got to Rome, and they were, although not by choice. You see in Rome when you sit down the Italians do not understand it as 'I am tired and need to rest,' but rather 'Please harass me.' Do you have half a dozen pamphlets in your hand already? No problem, you don't have this fucking pamphlet, it's so much better than those fucking pamphlets, you can tell the food at this restaurant is of higher quality because of the mother fucking font we use, and if you try and ignore us we'll just swear at you more.
In Rome we stayed in Idea Hotel. It had a beautiful design, comfortable rooms, and a great breakfast buffet (although our standards weren't exactly high after the plain cereal and coffee of the camping). In fact it was so aesthetically pleasing that the owners must have decided that maintenance would just be silly, half the lights were burnt out, several showers had cold water or colder water, and many hairdryers were broken. Luckily I'm a good person so I was not punished with stepping into an ice shower, but one of my roommates must have done something to anger the maintenance staff gods because we had to pass the nights by reading lamp light or bathroom light. Now for a run down of the places we saw. As a group we visited an ancient Roman market. It was a multiple story, open air, well protected, collection of beautiful edifices. If modern farmer's markets were like that one I think they would get a lot more business, there were great views of the city and a comfortable feeling as if the Roman's wanted to say, 'Yeah we built this place because it suits our needs, it was not meant to be extravagant or anything, but it gets the job done,' and they would tell us that in a completely not douchebaggy tone.
The next day we visited the Colosseum. It was impressive, although it is one of the structures that a person sees so many times in their life time before actually visiting it there is a loss of pure shock at the grandeur. It is replaced by shock at all the ways they extort money out of tourists. Besides gift shops and photos with gladiators there are secret rules, like how your entrance fee only allows you to visit two levels of the four floor structure. Some people want to go to the basement, which would be cool, you get to imagine the pants-soiling fear the gladiators faced without actually having to fight a jungle cat with a piece of folded metal. Almost everyone wants to go to the third floor which is where you get the best views, but here's the catch. You enter at ground level, you have no choice, then you climb the stairs, to the second floor, then you encounter the typical working Italian who needs to fill his daily quota of ripping off tourists for the day (Americans count double) and explains even though you did not want to see the ground floor you technically set foot there and therefore have to pay an extra fee to go higher. You then imagine yourself kicking him in the balls and running up the stairs to experience five seconds of great view before getting tazered, Itlaian style (read: Italian taser=baseball bat to knee caps).
Later we went to the Vatican. I'm not a fan of the 'great' classical artists, mainly because they all look the same. Same style, same subjects, same themes, ugh. Also not a fan of religion, I don't mind it, but it's sort of tough to avoid sometimes. Quick side track into why I'm an atheist because I've had to talk about religion a lot while talking about Rome. It's not science, or what can be proven and what can't, or any of that. It's for the morality. Religions all seem to say, be faithful, be a good person, and make lots of babies so they can all be good and faithful whatevers. If the world slowly gets worse and worse don't worry about it there is totally a plan behind everything. Heaven will always be waiting for the faithful. But for me, if I ever want to see heaven I have to make it here on Earth. How will I be comforted as an old man knowing nothing is waiting for me (or some sort of hell/underworld at best), I will be comforted by being able to look at the world and say humanity, and the planet as a whole, is better off because I made some positive changes. There is no plan (according to me, please don't take any offense) so we are making it up as we go, and so far we've made a steaming pile of pollution and war. So that's why I plan on changing the world in a major way. So, in a totally selfish act to ensure my own happiness, I would like to take this opportunity to announce my candidacy for president... in a few years, and as far as I can see I've got a fairly strong base in Fairport NY, Ontario Canada, and San Sebastian Spain. So I can work the international angle. Back on track. In the end I found the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel cliched even though they were probably the originals (I'm not so good with history). The Chapel did not even compare to some of the other huge ass churches I've seen. Anyways time to move towards a subject less likely to get my house firebombed, so basically anything but religion. Dead people. Specifically dead Popes, but I won't be talking about them.
On our last day, before going to the airport, we went to a cemetery. Well actually a crypt. Or perhaps it was just a labyrinth of terrors that someone decided to fill with bodies to brighten the place up a little. Normally I'm the exploring type of person, most of the time like breaking away from the group to go explore on my own and get a different perspective than the average tourist receives. However, most of the time my tourist groups do not visit zombie dungeons. Normally I'm all for fighting the living dead, there is no foe with less compassion generating power, but when I imagine myself destroying hoards of zombies I'm not trapped in an underground, under-lit, rock maze. The caverns were amazing and we had a great guide (a chubby Spanish guy), I just had no desire to see anything he did not want us to see. He did tell us stories about kids getting lost and starving to death, but I'm sure those were just made up stories to keep the kids from wandering off and getting torn apart by skeletons.
After the camping we visited two villages in Tuscany on our way to Rome. Now things like 'Geography' or 'facts' may prove that there is no possible way we drove through Tuscany on our way to Rome, but I'm just calling it how my fuzzy memory remembers it. My diary isn't much help because the guy writing it is mentally unstable from what I can tell, or just has a serious case of ADD, either way I can't rely on that either. So. Tuscany was nice, although I wanted to experience it differently than most of my friends. I wanted to take the wander around and explore route, while they preferred the sit down and take pictures of attractive strangers route. Seriously, whenever I think I'm the creepiest of creepers someone else takes it to a whole different level. Although I did enjoy listening to the birds and contemplating the landscape I hoped that the Basques would be more active when we got to Rome, and they were, although not by choice. You see in Rome when you sit down the Italians do not understand it as 'I am tired and need to rest,' but rather 'Please harass me.' Do you have half a dozen pamphlets in your hand already? No problem, you don't have this fucking pamphlet, it's so much better than those fucking pamphlets, you can tell the food at this restaurant is of higher quality because of the mother fucking font we use, and if you try and ignore us we'll just swear at you more.
In Rome we stayed in Idea Hotel. It had a beautiful design, comfortable rooms, and a great breakfast buffet (although our standards weren't exactly high after the plain cereal and coffee of the camping). In fact it was so aesthetically pleasing that the owners must have decided that maintenance would just be silly, half the lights were burnt out, several showers had cold water or colder water, and many hairdryers were broken. Luckily I'm a good person so I was not punished with stepping into an ice shower, but one of my roommates must have done something to anger the maintenance staff gods because we had to pass the nights by reading lamp light or bathroom light. Now for a run down of the places we saw. As a group we visited an ancient Roman market. It was a multiple story, open air, well protected, collection of beautiful edifices. If modern farmer's markets were like that one I think they would get a lot more business, there were great views of the city and a comfortable feeling as if the Roman's wanted to say, 'Yeah we built this place because it suits our needs, it was not meant to be extravagant or anything, but it gets the job done,' and they would tell us that in a completely not douchebaggy tone.
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| Also many more dark corners to play hide the organic hotdog in the whole grain taco shell |
The next day we visited the Colosseum. It was impressive, although it is one of the structures that a person sees so many times in their life time before actually visiting it there is a loss of pure shock at the grandeur. It is replaced by shock at all the ways they extort money out of tourists. Besides gift shops and photos with gladiators there are secret rules, like how your entrance fee only allows you to visit two levels of the four floor structure. Some people want to go to the basement, which would be cool, you get to imagine the pants-soiling fear the gladiators faced without actually having to fight a jungle cat with a piece of folded metal. Almost everyone wants to go to the third floor which is where you get the best views, but here's the catch. You enter at ground level, you have no choice, then you climb the stairs, to the second floor, then you encounter the typical working Italian who needs to fill his daily quota of ripping off tourists for the day (Americans count double) and explains even though you did not want to see the ground floor you technically set foot there and therefore have to pay an extra fee to go higher. You then imagine yourself kicking him in the balls and running up the stairs to experience five seconds of great view before getting tazered, Itlaian style (read: Italian taser=baseball bat to knee caps).
Later we went to the Vatican. I'm not a fan of the 'great' classical artists, mainly because they all look the same. Same style, same subjects, same themes, ugh. Also not a fan of religion, I don't mind it, but it's sort of tough to avoid sometimes. Quick side track into why I'm an atheist because I've had to talk about religion a lot while talking about Rome. It's not science, or what can be proven and what can't, or any of that. It's for the morality. Religions all seem to say, be faithful, be a good person, and make lots of babies so they can all be good and faithful whatevers. If the world slowly gets worse and worse don't worry about it there is totally a plan behind everything. Heaven will always be waiting for the faithful. But for me, if I ever want to see heaven I have to make it here on Earth. How will I be comforted as an old man knowing nothing is waiting for me (or some sort of hell/underworld at best), I will be comforted by being able to look at the world and say humanity, and the planet as a whole, is better off because I made some positive changes. There is no plan (according to me, please don't take any offense) so we are making it up as we go, and so far we've made a steaming pile of pollution and war. So that's why I plan on changing the world in a major way. So, in a totally selfish act to ensure my own happiness, I would like to take this opportunity to announce my candidacy for president... in a few years, and as far as I can see I've got a fairly strong base in Fairport NY, Ontario Canada, and San Sebastian Spain. So I can work the international angle. Back on track. In the end I found the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel cliched even though they were probably the originals (I'm not so good with history). The Chapel did not even compare to some of the other huge ass churches I've seen. Anyways time to move towards a subject less likely to get my house firebombed, so basically anything but religion. Dead people. Specifically dead Popes, but I won't be talking about them.
On our last day, before going to the airport, we went to a cemetery. Well actually a crypt. Or perhaps it was just a labyrinth of terrors that someone decided to fill with bodies to brighten the place up a little. Normally I'm the exploring type of person, most of the time like breaking away from the group to go explore on my own and get a different perspective than the average tourist receives. However, most of the time my tourist groups do not visit zombie dungeons. Normally I'm all for fighting the living dead, there is no foe with less compassion generating power, but when I imagine myself destroying hoards of zombies I'm not trapped in an underground, under-lit, rock maze. The caverns were amazing and we had a great guide (a chubby Spanish guy), I just had no desire to see anything he did not want us to see. He did tell us stories about kids getting lost and starving to death, but I'm sure those were just made up stories to keep the kids from wandering off and getting torn apart by skeletons.
After we re-surfaced it was off to the airport where we boarded a plane back home. Kind of. It was a strange experience for me, going from a double foreigner to just a regular foreigner again. The calm that comes from returning to normal life, but not exactly. It has me thinking about going back to the U.S, my original home, a land a slushy winters and slushy springs, followed by boiling hot summers before a slushy fall. I've been here for seven months and would be comfortable in saying that I'm at home here, but I'm also at home in Rochester. I'm not going to tear apart security by saying that home doesn't exist, but rather that no matter what differences we try to imagine about different peoples and different cultures, home can be anywhere you want it to be. We owe it to ourselves to not judge people based on color, gender, or religion, or would you rather that your only home be the city you grew up in? I will be using this new philosophy to my advantage. Tell girls, 'You wanna come back to my home baby?' She'll think 'Oh he has a home here, he must be doing well.' Take her to a public park, 'Planet Earth is my home.' 'Oh he's sensitive and sweet.' Then we could sit quietly a foot apart so as to not break any of the Rotary rules. What, you were expecting a different ending? Can't break Rotary rules for another two and a half months, also the girl is imaginary, real ones don't like getting lied to like that.
So that concludes my Italy trip. I left home to return home where I have April, May, and June before I go back home.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Italy pt. 4
From Venice we traveled to that other Italian city with those things with the people, and that stuff. Yeah, there. The city was actually Florence, although we would not have known because we went to what the Spaniards called a 'camping.' As in, 'Hey Joe, would you like to go do a camping with me,' 'Haha, honestly Mark, I'd rather gauge my eyes out than spend one entire night have to look at your poor man's excuse for a face.' I am not a fan of camping (or doing campings, as it were), you see I love nature but I also think that humans live in houses for a reason. I am perfectly fine with observing animals for an afternoon or taking a full day trek through a forest/mountain, but at the end of said day I like to go home, sleep in a bed, take a hot shower, not contract malaria, eat a non-mac'n'cheese based meal, you know, the benefits of civilization. Now for the other side of the argument. I want forests to stay large and relatively human free, day time excursions and national geographic employees excluded. I personally don't mind having animals in my back yard, but there are some people who would take the offense of intrusion on their land to shoot that creature in the brain cavity. And that's just for wandering around and being lost. Now you want to go and stay on an animal's home turf for weeks at a time with no expected consequences? I'm just saying if you want to go camping you should be ready for a little extra mauling to death with bear claws than you are used to. So now your problem is that both the 'arguements' I presented was that they were both supporting my theory? Well in that case you can set up your own blog talking about all the fun, dysentery-filled, adventures of staying in the wilderness which I won't read because I've already made up my mind.
Admittedly the camp ground in Florence was better than I expected because we stayed in trailer homes, had hot water, and enjoyed a heating system. However, for what the site lacked in 'actual camping' it made up for in 'being creepy as all hell.' The general vibe of the location made me expect expect a mix of killers wearing hockey masks and armed rednecks, but back to the positives, like the heating system. At least 'heating system' was how the owner played it up, I would more describe it as giant, wall mounted, hand dryer that shuts off in the middle of the night. I like going to bed cold and waking up warm, normally I have to compromise, one or the other, this time I got a middle finger and a kick to the balls. We went to bed hot, but after the heat shut off I would have to start putting on clothes, starting with a shirt and ending with a second pair of socks. My petition to set up the cabins boy girl boy girl to make cuddling and preserving body heat less awkward was shot down. The boy I was stuck with did not appreciate my advances either. So we froze through the night and had a breakfast of cold cereal (choice of cornflakes with milk, or cornflakes without milk) and coffee, because all you really need to get the day started is drugs, right? Folgers, keeping your hands from trembling until the last drop. We then took a walk.
And waited for a bus for an hour. But I can firmly say that after catching the bus the day was amazing.
Sure we walked around some streets for a while or did something like that, but then we did this.
I could literally have just filled this page with pictures from the top of the cupola. When we finished with the church there was still half a day before we had to return to Camp Crystal Lake in Deliverance country, so we went to Pisa. Wait how could we cover Pisa, known world wide for its tower, in half a day? Well if you've been to Pisa you've seen how it has the tower. And then maybe you've seen how it has a few restaurants if you were forced to stay for a meal. The Pasta I had was actually quite good, while the tower I saw was slightly puny. What I expected was an Empires State building in a gallant fight against gravity, while in reality it is an over sized column on poor foundation. Most people take pictures of themselves holding it up, in mine I'm pushing it over.
Admittedly the camp ground in Florence was better than I expected because we stayed in trailer homes, had hot water, and enjoyed a heating system. However, for what the site lacked in 'actual camping' it made up for in 'being creepy as all hell.' The general vibe of the location made me expect expect a mix of killers wearing hockey masks and armed rednecks, but back to the positives, like the heating system. At least 'heating system' was how the owner played it up, I would more describe it as giant, wall mounted, hand dryer that shuts off in the middle of the night. I like going to bed cold and waking up warm, normally I have to compromise, one or the other, this time I got a middle finger and a kick to the balls. We went to bed hot, but after the heat shut off I would have to start putting on clothes, starting with a shirt and ending with a second pair of socks. My petition to set up the cabins boy girl boy girl to make cuddling and preserving body heat less awkward was shot down. The boy I was stuck with did not appreciate my advances either. So we froze through the night and had a breakfast of cold cereal (choice of cornflakes with milk, or cornflakes without milk) and coffee, because all you really need to get the day started is drugs, right? Folgers, keeping your hands from trembling until the last drop. We then took a walk.
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| Italy's nature walk |
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| Yeah, they build houses on their bridges. Just because. |
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| Inside a Cupola |
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| On top of the Cupola |
I could literally have just filled this page with pictures from the top of the cupola. When we finished with the church there was still half a day before we had to return to Camp Crystal Lake in Deliverance country, so we went to Pisa. Wait how could we cover Pisa, known world wide for its tower, in half a day? Well if you've been to Pisa you've seen how it has the tower. And then maybe you've seen how it has a few restaurants if you were forced to stay for a meal. The Pasta I had was actually quite good, while the tower I saw was slightly puny. What I expected was an Empires State building in a gallant fight against gravity, while in reality it is an over sized column on poor foundation. Most people take pictures of themselves holding it up, in mine I'm pushing it over.
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