Ok, so I am writing this from a friend's apartment in Brooklyn. I am not sure if I am still jet-lagged so much as just tired. It is grey and drizzly which is fine with me as I try to sort out the things I have been carrying for the past few months and what I need to carry farther. All the way to California. But first, here is a little bit about how far east we went. Trieste is on the farthest edge of Italy, surrounded by Slovenia and water. The coffee is good, the language is mixed and cultural identity is complicated. On the Adriatic, a port town with hills and castles, shopping and a main piazza that faces the sea, I wasn't exactly sure what I expected and I was surprised. Additionally, we found a vending machine that would sell us one euro cans of beer at ten o'clock at night. Out travels were winding down.