Ciao!

I wake up early to catch a flight to Trieste.

Problem - it's Sunday, and the Tube opens late.  I
withdraw some cash and take a cab over to Liverpool
station to catch the shuttle bus to Stansted airport.

It seems the low-cost carriers are doing well, because
Stansted airport is really nice.   I get on the flight
with plenty of time to spare, pick any seat (it's
first come, first serve) and try to get some sleep. 
However, the stewardesses constantly interrupt by
trying to sell their goods.  I have a theory that they
earn less than minimum and earn money based on the
commissions they make selling candy and magazines.

I arrive at the destination airport and realize that I
am equidistant to Venice, but I've been there and pass
it up.  The shuttle bus over to Trieste is remarkably
scenic.  It starts with a ride through quaint Italian
towns, continues along the edge of a high cliff
overlooking the Adriatic Sea, and decends to a level
where the rough waves of the Adriatic crash so high
that water flows onto the road. 

I arrive at Trieste and catch a bus with another
backpacker from Denmark to my hostel (after asking for
lots of directions from the locals).  It's definitely
one of the coolest hostels I've ever been to, located
at the base of a lavish castle (Castello Miramare)
built on a cliff.  The hostel itself is a beautiful
yellow building, complete with an outdoor bar and
patio with a great view of the Adriatic.

I take a walk along the Barcola, a quaint path along
the waterfront lined with many benches and tropical
trees.  As night descends, I catch a bus into Trieste.
 Trieste is an Italian city, but is interesting
because it has Austrian roots - it definitely shows in
the architecture.  Roaming around, I pass the Grand
Canal, with a beautiful Serbian orthodox Chiesa Di San
Spiridione church built beside it.  I have a nice
sweet thin crust pizza dinner here, fork and knife
style, and continue my stroll through Trieste.  

Trieste is remarkably quiet today, being Sunday and
all, and almost everything is closed.  The streets are
barren, but this is great for my photography.  I
wander past a Roman Theatre, a Barcelona-themed night
market, through pedestrian shopping streets
reminiscent of Florence, and end up in the Piazza
D'Italia - the largest piazza in Italy - and it is
absolutely stunning.

I waste a lot of time sitting here - too much in fact,
and I miss my last bus to my hostel.  I attempt to
hitchhike (don't try this unless you're me), but
hitching out of a city at night is an unfavourable
circumstance so I pay up for the taxi - it's not so
expensive.

The night concludes as I meet up with any interesting
group of hostellers - Italian, Spanish, and French and
we have lots to discuss given our different
backgrounds.  They all speak multiple languages, and I
join in the fun with my French, as weak as it is.

I go to sleep with the sound of the Adriatic crashing
just metres from my bed.  As a fall asleep, the
Adriatic finds peace and quiets down ...