When I say where it ALL began, it really all did begin with Sicily. Riceballs originated in Sicily, and while the riceball tradition passed down through the Mucey side of my family, riceballs have adorned the table of many important Ritter family gatherings. I wrote my Davidson admission essay on the importance and impact of Ritter riceballs, thus I got in, decided to study abroad, started dating James.... the rest is history. So, decades after the Bondis emigrated from Sicily, twenty-one years of eating riceballs, 2 and a half years at Davidson, and exactly 6 months with James, we headed to Palermo for a quick discovery of a portion of our roots. But not before a night in Bologna and a 6 AM flight.
James absolutely could explain the origins of the Kappa Sigma fraternity better than I can, since he is now the President-elect, but the best boys at Davidson claim to have ties to a little industrial city in Italy: Bologna. Yes, the originators of Bologna (like Oscar Mayer) AND bolognese sauce (my personal favorite way to eat pasta). In one meal, James got a taste of both in the fatherland of his brotherhood. I also saw something these sheltered small-town eyes have never witnessed: street prostitutes. Yep, standing on the corner as our taxi drove us to the hotel from the airport. Its one of those things you chose to not believe that it exists until your own eyes force you to.
With a 4:15 wake up call, we headed to a little island just South of Italy. 3 days of 75 degrees and sunshine greeted us to Sicily. I had "figured out" how to get to the hotel from the airport via a shuttle, BUT didn't quite manage to catch the name of the stop that we were supposed to take. Fortunately, James had google-mapped it and the shuttle dropped us off around 9 am right in front of our hotel. Unfortunately, hotel check-ins don't start until noon, but they agreed to let us check in as soon as they had a room clean. James twisted my arm into a breakfast of riceballs and diet coke to fill the time. We mozied around the Politeama piazza before crashing for a several hour nap. Palermo is a big city with big city problems, namingly traffic, trash, and crime, but the tourist area is condensed into a manageable area. We walked a lot, but we did everything by foot, a way in which you really get a feel for the city and the people. We found ourselves always surrounded by Sicilians, something I can never say about Florence. Only the expected folks spoke English (ie-- the hotel staff, other guests, ticket vendors, etc). Thursday night, we walked to Teatro Massimo and the Palermo Duomo before dinner in a restaurant established in 1890 and a walk through the port. James said best when describing our different conceptions of a port: I think Portofino, Cinque Terre, Barcelona... he thinks Balitmore port.
James won that discussion in regards to Palermo. So, we took a little daycation to Trapani, a coastal town on the west side of the island where I witnessed yet another first: Our bus hit, yes hit, a parked car. I've been in a lot of buses this semester and while Italian drivers drive terrifyingly close, I've never seen, let alone been involved in an accident. James and I decided to exit on THAT bus stop as the two drivers stood screaming at each other. Unfortunately, we had no city map or any true idea of where we wanted to go, so we took a look in each direction and chose the way closest to the water. We chose the wrong direction for the historical tour, but we had a beautifully scenic stroll down the beach by ourselves with clear blue waters. Mind you, this is early December, with clear skies and warm temperatures. After a while of stumbling and being lost, we managed to find the historical city center and the scenic little port where we also met our little dog friend. Like most women of the female gender, I'm a sucker for animals, especially ones that can't help themselves. James and I were walking down to take a picture from the port of some ruins before sunset and a stray dog came up close, obviously wanting food. Not having anything to offer, we were sure that she'd follow us for a few steps, get disinterested, and leave us. Wrong. She followed us within two steps the entire way back into the city, passing up homeless men, trashcans, and plenty of car tires to pee on. Dodging cars and construction workers, she followed us all the way to the Cathedral, and afriad she'd follow us inside, we quickly walked inside. I told James that if we walked out and she was still there, I was taking her home. If the US (and my mother) would've allowed, we'd have another addition to the family, because after spending 15 mins or so exploring inside, we were wrong again. Waiting outside the steps. Loyalty, that one, and breaking my heart the whole time. We then succumbed to playing hide-and-go-seek through the narrow streets of Trapani before finally turning around and not seeing our pup. This is probably 45 mins after our initial meeting. After a beer and a sucker later, we had to run to catch the bus home, but we made it back to Palermo in time for a nice meal and a bottle of vino.
Saturday, we planned to do all the touristy things that we didn't get to do our first day in Palermo. Palermo's markets are described more like African or Middle Eastern souks with smells and vendors like you couldn't imagine. We took an adventurous route through one of the outdoor markets, only to think we were lost and magically land on the main road. We hid behind columns in the cathedral, admired the royal palace, and walked to the catacombs, where we ran into an unfamiliar-but-familiar Davidson face. Most Davidson students at least know first names, but we definitely know faces. As we approached, we heard a voice ask "Do you go to Davidson?" Why yes, we do. Who knew that 1700 students could spread so far into the world, even to the catacombs in Palermo, Sicily? The Cappuccini Catacombs house 9000 bodies arranged by gender or social class from 1599 to the late 19th century. Definitely one of the weirdest things I've done in Europe, but interesting to this medical nerd. The city was setting up for an outdoor festival as we walked back, only promoting the hasseling from the "Occupy Massimo" protestors.
Our hotel offered us a deal too enticing to pass up. James said we have been "playing adults" this entire and a classical Russian a cappella concert in a Byzantine Cathedral in a hilltown near Palermo seems like the only appropriate way to finish out on that mature note. Checking out the 68,000 square feet of glittering gold mosaic in the Monreale Cathedral is recommended in every Sicilian guidebook, but there is no easy way to get there. Our hotel supplied the concert ticket and a shuttle to and from for only 4 euro. So, we put on our church clothes and headed to the concert, lowering the average age to about 70. James and I had front seats and a great view of the gigantic mosiac Jesus in the apse of the church while the Russian singers sang beautiful songs in lyrics we couldn't understand. Probably one of the more rewarding and unexpected experiences of the semester. I do love opportunities that just land in your lap.
Our Sunday morning flight back to Bologna came too early, but a breakfast of riceballs and sour spaghetti eased my pain. Sicily is a hodgepodge of cultures because of the variety of inhabitors that dominated the island for centuries. Its like a Greek, African, Arabic, Italian, and Norman vacation island -- unlike anywhere I've ever been. And being the last trip of my semester abroad, I was sad to see it come to an end. Luckily, James escorted me back to Florence for the afternoon since his flight to Valencia wasn't until late. I made him and the boys his final Italian pasta supper before saying goodbye for the semester.
Its bittersweet to think that I'll be home in 13 days. James reminded me today that if you think of Sunday as the first day of the week, I'll be home next week. Crazy! Gen asked me today what else do I want to do while I'm here. I've done Italy, completely, and I love it here. But, I don't need to see another church or another museum (except maybe the new Gucci one), so I'm going to spend my last days indulging in eatingeatingeatingeating and shoppingshoppingshoppingshopping (and maybe studying a bit for finals). Most every else is over the traveling and over Europe. While I am one patriotic, capitalist-loving girl, I have been bitten by the travel bug. I look forward to Christmas in Lincolnton and an amazingly fun but academically challenging semester back at Davidson. 15 page papers and organic chemistry exams don't me all that eager to hop on a plane though, but the thought of Carolina Cup, frolics, formals, the Superbowl, my Mommas kitchen, my bed, and my brother make me realize how long I've been here.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thanksgiving in Tuscany
I've spent two consecutive weekends in Florence for the first time since our first weeks here. Our advisors recommended staying last weekend because they were taking our group to the AC Milan vs. Florence soccer game -- which was def worth staying in town for. And, since so many Davidson students migrate to Florence every Fall, it has become a little tradition for all of our friends in other cities of Europe to come to Florence for Thanksgiving. So, that is what we did.
In the last month that we're here, we are cramming in restaraunts that we want to try, last minute trips, must-see-museums, Christmas shopping, and final papers. It seems like once we've finally gotten settled and into a routine, it's almost time to leave! So after a long week of class (seriously, all the way to Friday because of a make-up day), Milva and Lucca drove us to two designer outlets in the suburbs of Florence. While it was fun to try on 500 euro dresses or fantasize about Prada boots, one had to be willing to spend a small fortune on these "steals". While they were marked down 50-75% of in-store costs, when you're talking about a 10,000 euro dress, its still expensive. After a full day of shopping, I came home with only a gold Ferragamo bracelet. Afterward, we headed to the soccer game via the city bus system. Earlier in the week, Caroline and I went to the outdoor market to buy something purple with Florence on it to wear to the game. We weren't exactly dressed to the 9s. More like sweatpants and UGGS (a big no-no in Italian fashion) and poor Caroline was bombarded by questions (in English) from one male vendor: "Ooooh girl I like your outfit. Next time I see you in the disco, I'll be like 'dammmn, that's unexpected!'" So with our purple t-shirts, we met the crew and headed to the bus stop. Apparently its impossible to drive/walk to the soccer stadium, so everyone in Florence hopped on the same city bus as us. Even though it was sub-artic outside, the windows of the bus fogged with the number of fans crammed inside. Leave it to a soccer player of 14 years to call a 0-0 tie an exciting game... but it was! Europeans indeed love their sport.
A week of school work procrastination followed our lazy Sunday as we waited for a yummy Thanksgiving meal and our friends to arrive on Friday. James had booked a ticket for Wednesday, forgetting that he'd be on a required trip with his program in Madrid, so he booked another flight for Thursday, which Ryanair kindly moved to Friday. So, he had two tickets to fly to Florence. Since his program trip was required, he convinced me that he would be coming on Friday when the rest of the crew was to arrive. However, around 6 PM on Wednesday night, my boyfriend walked into my apartment. Surprise!
Thursday, we had to "pick up" our Permit of Stay from the Police Dept (yes, 23 days before we leave...). Our appointment time was at 2:15, but we weren't seen until 4:45, leaving James to his own devices for the afternoon. Before we left for Milva and Luca's house for Thanksgiving dinner, he spilled exactly how he had spent his afternoon. My birthday is tomorrow, and while James is a great gift-giver, he isn't a good secret-keeper. He couldn't contain himself. In 9th grade, he came on a school trip to Florence and they went to a leather factory and learned about the tanning process, how to evaluate nice leather, etc. He found their showroom in the Piazza near Santa Croce on his last trip to Florence and made his way over there while I was stuck in the Police Station. I now have a beautiful chocolate brown patent leather bag. James forgot to mention the coolest thing about the purse in his description, but Keena informed me that the style is called the "Grace Kelly" because it is the same bag she carried on her wedding day. Thoughtful boy. And did I mention the gold-leaf monogram? Oh yeah, he knows me all too well.
Thursday night, we took yet another city bus to Milva and Lucca's house for an American Thanksgiving meal. Milva is a cooking professor at LdM, so we knew we were in for a treat. We ate pumpkin soup, turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce, along with some side dishes that had an Italian flare before apple and pumpkin pie for dessert. Certainly not a meal from my Mother's kitchen, but it made the day feel more like home nonetheless.
Our friends arrived mid-afternoon on Friday, which only created a more familiar atmosphere. We gave them a quick walking tour of the city before a dinner of pizza and pasta at Gatto e Volpe, one of our favorite spots. Myki will never again confuse rigatoni and rissotto. We hung out at the boys before heading out to the discotecas. I'm not sure Europe was ready to handle a Davidson court party. An agressive bouncer, tears on the curbside, and a 4 AM bedtime summarized our night. By popular demand, I made loaded grits on Saturday for everyone, followed by gelato from our favorite spot on our street. We sent our friends off to do some touristy things while I indulged in a much-needed nap. Before dinner, Elle, Carlin, Meredith, Caroline and I grabbed some baguettes, olives, and a variety of cheeses and sat on the Duomo steps. Good thing too. We decided not to eat at the resturaunt we made reservations for, so trying to find a place that could seat 14 at 9 PM on a Saturday night proved to be challenging. After more gelato and a sit on the bridge facing the Ponte Vecchio, James and I called it a night.
Sunday, we walked around only to find the Florence marathon blocking nearly every street in the city. Luckily, we grabbed some lunch just in time to get Elle on her bus to the airport. Naturally, there was a train strike, but James made it on his train to Bologna for his flight home.
The last 2 weeks have been a whirlwind and its hard to believe that we have less than 3 left. 2 papers and my 21st birthday stand in between me and Sicily this weekend.
In the last month that we're here, we are cramming in restaraunts that we want to try, last minute trips, must-see-museums, Christmas shopping, and final papers. It seems like once we've finally gotten settled and into a routine, it's almost time to leave! So after a long week of class (seriously, all the way to Friday because of a make-up day), Milva and Lucca drove us to two designer outlets in the suburbs of Florence. While it was fun to try on 500 euro dresses or fantasize about Prada boots, one had to be willing to spend a small fortune on these "steals". While they were marked down 50-75% of in-store costs, when you're talking about a 10,000 euro dress, its still expensive. After a full day of shopping, I came home with only a gold Ferragamo bracelet. Afterward, we headed to the soccer game via the city bus system. Earlier in the week, Caroline and I went to the outdoor market to buy something purple with Florence on it to wear to the game. We weren't exactly dressed to the 9s. More like sweatpants and UGGS (a big no-no in Italian fashion) and poor Caroline was bombarded by questions (in English) from one male vendor: "Ooooh girl I like your outfit. Next time I see you in the disco, I'll be like 'dammmn, that's unexpected!'" So with our purple t-shirts, we met the crew and headed to the bus stop. Apparently its impossible to drive/walk to the soccer stadium, so everyone in Florence hopped on the same city bus as us. Even though it was sub-artic outside, the windows of the bus fogged with the number of fans crammed inside. Leave it to a soccer player of 14 years to call a 0-0 tie an exciting game... but it was! Europeans indeed love their sport.
A week of school work procrastination followed our lazy Sunday as we waited for a yummy Thanksgiving meal and our friends to arrive on Friday. James had booked a ticket for Wednesday, forgetting that he'd be on a required trip with his program in Madrid, so he booked another flight for Thursday, which Ryanair kindly moved to Friday. So, he had two tickets to fly to Florence. Since his program trip was required, he convinced me that he would be coming on Friday when the rest of the crew was to arrive. However, around 6 PM on Wednesday night, my boyfriend walked into my apartment. Surprise!
Thursday, we had to "pick up" our Permit of Stay from the Police Dept (yes, 23 days before we leave...). Our appointment time was at 2:15, but we weren't seen until 4:45, leaving James to his own devices for the afternoon. Before we left for Milva and Luca's house for Thanksgiving dinner, he spilled exactly how he had spent his afternoon. My birthday is tomorrow, and while James is a great gift-giver, he isn't a good secret-keeper. He couldn't contain himself. In 9th grade, he came on a school trip to Florence and they went to a leather factory and learned about the tanning process, how to evaluate nice leather, etc. He found their showroom in the Piazza near Santa Croce on his last trip to Florence and made his way over there while I was stuck in the Police Station. I now have a beautiful chocolate brown patent leather bag. James forgot to mention the coolest thing about the purse in his description, but Keena informed me that the style is called the "Grace Kelly" because it is the same bag she carried on her wedding day. Thoughtful boy. And did I mention the gold-leaf monogram? Oh yeah, he knows me all too well.
Thursday night, we took yet another city bus to Milva and Lucca's house for an American Thanksgiving meal. Milva is a cooking professor at LdM, so we knew we were in for a treat. We ate pumpkin soup, turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce, along with some side dishes that had an Italian flare before apple and pumpkin pie for dessert. Certainly not a meal from my Mother's kitchen, but it made the day feel more like home nonetheless.
Our friends arrived mid-afternoon on Friday, which only created a more familiar atmosphere. We gave them a quick walking tour of the city before a dinner of pizza and pasta at Gatto e Volpe, one of our favorite spots. Myki will never again confuse rigatoni and rissotto. We hung out at the boys before heading out to the discotecas. I'm not sure Europe was ready to handle a Davidson court party. An agressive bouncer, tears on the curbside, and a 4 AM bedtime summarized our night. By popular demand, I made loaded grits on Saturday for everyone, followed by gelato from our favorite spot on our street. We sent our friends off to do some touristy things while I indulged in a much-needed nap. Before dinner, Elle, Carlin, Meredith, Caroline and I grabbed some baguettes, olives, and a variety of cheeses and sat on the Duomo steps. Good thing too. We decided not to eat at the resturaunt we made reservations for, so trying to find a place that could seat 14 at 9 PM on a Saturday night proved to be challenging. After more gelato and a sit on the bridge facing the Ponte Vecchio, James and I called it a night.
Sunday, we walked around only to find the Florence marathon blocking nearly every street in the city. Luckily, we grabbed some lunch just in time to get Elle on her bus to the airport. Naturally, there was a train strike, but James made it on his train to Bologna for his flight home.
The last 2 weeks have been a whirlwind and its hard to believe that we have less than 3 left. 2 papers and my 21st birthday stand in between me and Sicily this weekend.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Sangria-filled fin de semana
Everytime I leave Italy, I find it hard to break the "grazies" and "ciaos" that so eagerly and naturally flow from my mouth. It takes a good 24 hours before I can start with "gracias" and "holas". I flew to Barcelona this weekend for a relaxing weekend on the coast with James. This blog post will be brief only because we had a quiet weekend of eating and enjoying each other's company combined with a little touring.
Ryanair flies from Pisa to Girona, two cities (cheaper, I'm sure) with small airports not far from the larger cities of Florence and Barcelona, respectively. So, I took a train from Pisa early Thursday morning, a flight to Girona, and a bus to Barcelona where I was supposed to meet James. After a fun night out, the boy overslept his alarm and had no way to get in contact with me. I am known for my plans, and in this case, third-back-up plan. I found myself at the bus station only with my luggage and some free wifi. After an hour of waiting around and a quick-address-look-up, I hailed a taxi and went to our hotel. Only 30 mins of Spanish MTV had to occupy my time before I got a call from James at the bus station. To the average reader, this seems like no major feat, but a diversion in a plan can send this Type A personality over the edge. And I could've taken this stress out on James when he arrived, but he brought Geoff, a Davidson Kappa Sig studying in Barcelona, with him to buffer the brunt of my wrath. In reality, we had only missed each other by a few mins, but I was proud of myself for being resourceful and not getting upset or angry. #abroadlessons
The three of us headed out for a 3:30 lunch. Luckily, this is almost appropriate in Spain. We spent the rest of the evening getting settled and taking a walk down Las Ramblas to meet Geoff and Myki for a late Chinese dinner. You'd think that by now I would have learned not to wear shoes that I am not certain of their comfortability out on what could've turned into a long night. After a 5:45 AM wake-up and a 6 blister evening, I pooped out on our "night out". Friday, we found a cute little lunch place where we spent all of our lunches in Barcelona testing out different cuisines. We decided to tour the city on one of the hop-on, hop-off buses. A tour of the port and some of Gaudi's architecture filled our afternoon followed by a night of people watching, 11 euro glasses of Sangria, and tapas on Las Ramblas. Saturday, we took the bus that takes tourists out of the city center to La Sagrada Familia (Gaudi's famous and unfinished church), Park Guell, and the Barcelona Club Stadium. We ate a yummy seafood dinner in the port (and a chocolate crepe if that wasn't enough). Sunday, my flight wasn't until around 7, but because of the additional transportation, I had to head to Girona at 3:30. We enjoyed a quiet lunch in the rain. Otherwise we had beautiful, sunny, 75 degree weather all weekend -- that's the kind of November I like. We tried to fill the time between check-out and bus-departure with some Spanish TV watching in the lounge of our hotel and we ended up on a cooking channel. Truly, food is universal.
I wasn't expecting the vastness of modernista architecture around every corner. Even our hotel boasted a modern white and black theme with red-lighting. Definitely a modern yet cultural city. I told James Barcelona seems to be a bustling city with a productive economy (unlike the rest of Spain unfortunately) but somehow able to preserve its rich Catalan culture. Barcelona proved to be the perfect place for a relaxing weekend without the overwhelming number of must-sees (like Paris or Rome for instance).
This weekend (and the next) we are in Florence! Our group heads to the Designer Outlets and the AC Milan vs. Florence soccer game on Saturday before all of our Davidson friends come to visit for Thanksgiving, a weekend I've been looking forward to all semester. Like I said when my family visit, it'll be nice to share all the reasons we love Florence with the people that are important to us. After that, only a few days until my 21st birthday, Sicily with James, finals, the back to the States. A little over a month to go and I'm appreciating everyday that I have here.
Ryanair flies from Pisa to Girona, two cities (cheaper, I'm sure) with small airports not far from the larger cities of Florence and Barcelona, respectively. So, I took a train from Pisa early Thursday morning, a flight to Girona, and a bus to Barcelona where I was supposed to meet James. After a fun night out, the boy overslept his alarm and had no way to get in contact with me. I am known for my plans, and in this case, third-back-up plan. I found myself at the bus station only with my luggage and some free wifi. After an hour of waiting around and a quick-address-look-up, I hailed a taxi and went to our hotel. Only 30 mins of Spanish MTV had to occupy my time before I got a call from James at the bus station. To the average reader, this seems like no major feat, but a diversion in a plan can send this Type A personality over the edge. And I could've taken this stress out on James when he arrived, but he brought Geoff, a Davidson Kappa Sig studying in Barcelona, with him to buffer the brunt of my wrath. In reality, we had only missed each other by a few mins, but I was proud of myself for being resourceful and not getting upset or angry. #abroadlessons
The three of us headed out for a 3:30 lunch. Luckily, this is almost appropriate in Spain. We spent the rest of the evening getting settled and taking a walk down Las Ramblas to meet Geoff and Myki for a late Chinese dinner. You'd think that by now I would have learned not to wear shoes that I am not certain of their comfortability out on what could've turned into a long night. After a 5:45 AM wake-up and a 6 blister evening, I pooped out on our "night out". Friday, we found a cute little lunch place where we spent all of our lunches in Barcelona testing out different cuisines. We decided to tour the city on one of the hop-on, hop-off buses. A tour of the port and some of Gaudi's architecture filled our afternoon followed by a night of people watching, 11 euro glasses of Sangria, and tapas on Las Ramblas. Saturday, we took the bus that takes tourists out of the city center to La Sagrada Familia (Gaudi's famous and unfinished church), Park Guell, and the Barcelona Club Stadium. We ate a yummy seafood dinner in the port (and a chocolate crepe if that wasn't enough). Sunday, my flight wasn't until around 7, but because of the additional transportation, I had to head to Girona at 3:30. We enjoyed a quiet lunch in the rain. Otherwise we had beautiful, sunny, 75 degree weather all weekend -- that's the kind of November I like. We tried to fill the time between check-out and bus-departure with some Spanish TV watching in the lounge of our hotel and we ended up on a cooking channel. Truly, food is universal.
I wasn't expecting the vastness of modernista architecture around every corner. Even our hotel boasted a modern white and black theme with red-lighting. Definitely a modern yet cultural city. I told James Barcelona seems to be a bustling city with a productive economy (unlike the rest of Spain unfortunately) but somehow able to preserve its rich Catalan culture. Barcelona proved to be the perfect place for a relaxing weekend without the overwhelming number of must-sees (like Paris or Rome for instance).
This weekend (and the next) we are in Florence! Our group heads to the Designer Outlets and the AC Milan vs. Florence soccer game on Saturday before all of our Davidson friends come to visit for Thanksgiving, a weekend I've been looking forward to all semester. Like I said when my family visit, it'll be nice to share all the reasons we love Florence with the people that are important to us. After that, only a few days until my 21st birthday, Sicily with James, finals, the back to the States. A little over a month to go and I'm appreciating everyday that I have here.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Paris: Must Bring Baguette
After 10 days in Italy with my family and a brief week of class, I find it hard to break myself out of "vacation-mode" since fall break. Four and half days in Paris with James did not help. For the first time during my semester abroad, I've finally fallen in love with a "big city". Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed everywhere I've been (other than maybe an unimpressionable and crowded Venice), but Paris fully lived up and exceeded every expectation I had. I was pretty sick last week and hoped to rebound before taking off but Paris seemed to be my cure. We hit the highlights, but I could've spent weeks enjoying French cuisine and architecture.
Everything in Italy is old. Like, really old, and boasting centuries of history. And by American standards, Paris is too. But, Napolean's Arc de Triomphe is only 300 years old. A modern, but classical city with a rich and beautiful history. And great food. That's my take-away message from Paris.
So, yes, we arrived Wednesday night and after an hour or two of walking the streets of Paris, we navigated from the nearest metro stop to our hotel. We began Thursday with a 80% chance of rain all day, so we decided to try and stay indoors, but since the Arc de Triomphe was just down the road.... we couldn't resist. So, we climbed to the top (a surprising number of spiral staircases!). The view from the top is a unique one: Upwards of 6 or so roads converge in Place Charles de Gaulle. Not only can you see the layout of the city, but you have a perfect view of the Eiffel tower. Once it started drizzling, we ducked into the metro and made our way to the Louvre. Another nice aspect of Paris: its very student-friendly. Other than the Arc and Eiffel tower tickets, we got into most places free simply for being students living in Europe under the age of 25. Don't hate that. Like the Uffizi, the Louvre is massive and simply impossible to take in in one afternoon. After nearly a semester of museum or church boasting famous religious art after religious art after reglious art, we walked through the Louvre, pausing at interesting pieces (and of course the most famous ones), but we didn't spend the entire day being art critics. Amoung the many things that I love about James, one of my favorites is his ability to whip out names and dates and stories throughout history by the end of my question. He's like my personal tour guide, and if we both are stumped on something that interests us, we've both, nearly in unison at this point, say, "We'll look it up when we get home." He's taught me to have an even more inquisitive mind and here, you can learn everywhere.
One problem with France.... is French. Having taken Spanish and grown up with a couple of Italian pharses tossed around, I was not in the slightest concerned before coming to Italy or traveling to Spain. I'm familiar enough with "food words" and I can always point to a map or in a direction, but in France, James and I were both completely clueless. On our first night, we stopped at a small mini-market to grab some waters. The owner told us what I hope to be "thanks, goodnight." James and I replied the only way we could, with a smile and a wave. Translated menus or understanding waiters with broken English became my best friend. And once we found a good thing, we didn't let go. We ate at the same lunch spot 3 of the days we were there and at the same place for dinner twice. Luckily, we were looking for typical French cuisine. We managed to try onion soup, chocolate mousse, escargot, crepes, and beef tartar during our weekend, as well as American, Japanese, and Italian meals.
Friday, we went to Notre Dome where we happened to catch a service. The incense burning and sounds of a children's choir singing, the Gothic church was awe-inspiring. After a Nutella crepe and a "35 minute walk" along the Seine River, we made it to the Eiffle Tower for a trip to the top. After several days of pestering James about making reservations for the Eiffle Tower, he finally succumbed, and we were both satisfied to see the line wrapped around the tower. Bypassing the crowds, we headed up quickly to the top where we snapped a few photos, enjoyed the view, and became infected with hypothermia. While the ground temperature was pleasant in a sweater, I was frigid at the top. A brief lightshow and sushi later, we navigated the metro and called it a night.
Saturday, we went to the ornate Versailles Palace. The only comparison I can make is that of the Biltmore, but the lavishness of the King and Queen's quarters, the Hall of Mirrors, and other rooms on display accurately depict the wealth around 17th C France. The audiotour was managable and informative which I very much appreciated. We walked some of the famous gardens before sunset and headed back for our final night in France.
One final observation of Paris: Everyone is either carrying a baguette, pinching off bites as they walk, on their way to a bakery, or wishing they had one. We saw lines wrapped around street corners of the bakeries. France wins, I will admit, in the bread department.
Everything in Italy is old. Like, really old, and boasting centuries of history. And by American standards, Paris is too. But, Napolean's Arc de Triomphe is only 300 years old. A modern, but classical city with a rich and beautiful history. And great food. That's my take-away message from Paris.
So, yes, we arrived Wednesday night and after an hour or two of walking the streets of Paris, we navigated from the nearest metro stop to our hotel. We began Thursday with a 80% chance of rain all day, so we decided to try and stay indoors, but since the Arc de Triomphe was just down the road.... we couldn't resist. So, we climbed to the top (a surprising number of spiral staircases!). The view from the top is a unique one: Upwards of 6 or so roads converge in Place Charles de Gaulle. Not only can you see the layout of the city, but you have a perfect view of the Eiffel tower. Once it started drizzling, we ducked into the metro and made our way to the Louvre. Another nice aspect of Paris: its very student-friendly. Other than the Arc and Eiffel tower tickets, we got into most places free simply for being students living in Europe under the age of 25. Don't hate that. Like the Uffizi, the Louvre is massive and simply impossible to take in in one afternoon. After nearly a semester of museum or church boasting famous religious art after religious art after reglious art, we walked through the Louvre, pausing at interesting pieces (and of course the most famous ones), but we didn't spend the entire day being art critics. Amoung the many things that I love about James, one of my favorites is his ability to whip out names and dates and stories throughout history by the end of my question. He's like my personal tour guide, and if we both are stumped on something that interests us, we've both, nearly in unison at this point, say, "We'll look it up when we get home." He's taught me to have an even more inquisitive mind and here, you can learn everywhere.
One problem with France.... is French. Having taken Spanish and grown up with a couple of Italian pharses tossed around, I was not in the slightest concerned before coming to Italy or traveling to Spain. I'm familiar enough with "food words" and I can always point to a map or in a direction, but in France, James and I were both completely clueless. On our first night, we stopped at a small mini-market to grab some waters. The owner told us what I hope to be "thanks, goodnight." James and I replied the only way we could, with a smile and a wave. Translated menus or understanding waiters with broken English became my best friend. And once we found a good thing, we didn't let go. We ate at the same lunch spot 3 of the days we were there and at the same place for dinner twice. Luckily, we were looking for typical French cuisine. We managed to try onion soup, chocolate mousse, escargot, crepes, and beef tartar during our weekend, as well as American, Japanese, and Italian meals.
Friday, we went to Notre Dome where we happened to catch a service. The incense burning and sounds of a children's choir singing, the Gothic church was awe-inspiring. After a Nutella crepe and a "35 minute walk" along the Seine River, we made it to the Eiffle Tower for a trip to the top. After several days of pestering James about making reservations for the Eiffle Tower, he finally succumbed, and we were both satisfied to see the line wrapped around the tower. Bypassing the crowds, we headed up quickly to the top where we snapped a few photos, enjoyed the view, and became infected with hypothermia. While the ground temperature was pleasant in a sweater, I was frigid at the top. A brief lightshow and sushi later, we navigated the metro and called it a night.
Saturday, we went to the ornate Versailles Palace. The only comparison I can make is that of the Biltmore, but the lavishness of the King and Queen's quarters, the Hall of Mirrors, and other rooms on display accurately depict the wealth around 17th C France. The audiotour was managable and informative which I very much appreciated. We walked some of the famous gardens before sunset and headed back for our final night in France.
One final observation of Paris: Everyone is either carrying a baguette, pinching off bites as they walk, on their way to a bakery, or wishing they had one. We saw lines wrapped around street corners of the bakeries. France wins, I will admit, in the bread department.
Monday, October 31, 2011
volcanic_ashton takes mt. vesuvius
Who knew that one could see so much history in one week? My family flies home from Rome this morning, but I am back in Firenze after a wonderful 10 days of fall break in Italy with them. We began on Friday morning in Florence, when their flight was delayed from Frankfurt because of fog, leaving me with several hours to myself at the Florence airport. Peanut M-n-M's and a Coca-Cola Light later, Mom, Dad, and Ross made it to Florence. We did, however, make it out of the terminal before Mom could stop the tears and catch her breath to say anything. 8 weeks is the longest I've probably ever been away from home, and certainly the farthest. Indeed, the invention of Skype has allowed me to stay in better touch with everyone, but it's certainly not the same.
In Florence, we visited the heavy hitters: the Uffizzi, the Accademia, and the Duomo as well as indulging in some of the best Tuscan cuisine. We ate well in Florence. I wanted to give my parents and brother a true taste of what/how I've been enjoying Tuscan cuisine for the semester. With all the walking, I can't say that I've sent them back with any lighter, but maybe on a diet instead. Something I will never be in my next life: a tourguide. After a night's sleep on a trans-Atlantic flight, I had my poor family walking all of Florence in my eagerness to show them the city that I've fallen in love with. Needless to say, they needed a nap after some pizza from my favorite spot. The beauty of Florence is, though, that you can walk everywhere. The birth of the renaissance is within one-square block. And the circumference of the ancient city walls, one can stumble upon all the treasures and masterpieces that Italy has to offer.
Siena is much of the same, only smaller and less famous. On our way to Siena, we stopped at two famous Tuscan towns: San Gimignano and Monteriggioni. Spending only a few hours in each spot, you can get the feel of each medieval town. I had visited both of these spots before, so my parents enjoyed the luxury (or curse) of once again having me as their tourguide. We then spent one day walking around the city and the campo of Siena before heading out on a tour with Gianni of the Chianti region of Tuscany. We visited several tiny towns (one with only 23 inhabitants!), a Baron's Castle, and a winery, before heading to the capital of the Roman empire for a few days. Mom decided that rather than having a driver, they needed to experience the European train system (something totally foreign to North Carolinians). So, by train, we made our way from Siena to Rome. This is the point in the trip in which I stop being familiar with the area and the cities. I consider myself pretty well-traveled in Italy by now, but I haven't made my way south enough to get to Rome or Sorrento, so my days as a tour guide ended. They did not, however, end as translator to taxi drivers, map dissector, or metro navigator. We arrived to our hotel in Rome (where the famous Rick Steve's son was also staying) mid-week with a precarious weather forecast. We visited the two sights that Mom had not scheduled in our tours: the Spanish steps and the Trevi Foutain. Both beautiful, and both extremely crowded. Mom had beautifully planned everyday of this vacation with a guided tour or a pre-planned means of transportation, so torrential downpours could have put this planning to waste. It did rain the morning of our scheduled Classics Tour of Rome, but our guide luckily switched our tickets and we headed to the massiveness of the Vatican. On Wednesday mornings, however, the Pope gives an audience to pilgrims and because of the weather, this was held in Saint Peter's Cathedral -- as the largetst church in the world, its one of the highlights of the Vatican, if not THE highlight behind the Michelangelo's Sistine chapel. Luckily, our tour of the museum and the chapel lasted long enough that the cathedral re-opened. I was not prepared for the extravagence of the Vatican. I had no idea of the amount of the Vatican's collection: priceless Renaissance masterpieces, ancient Roman statues, or Egyptian artifacts. Each corridor rivals any noteworthy museum. The day turned out to only be drizzly, so we walked around Rome, grabbed some pizza, indulged in a siesta, and shopped in the best shops that Italy has to offer. I may or may not be returning with a new Gucci purse. Splurg! We woke up with clear skies on Thursday morning to juxtapose the famed beauty of modern Rome with that of the Ancient Empire: We had guided tours of the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill, and the Pantheon. Everything is as impressive as one would imagine. The major walk-away message I took from the Ancient Roman Empire: Some of beautiful, detailed, elaborate, and massive structures were built before the birth of Christ. And not just a handful of buildings. Countries and countries worth. That's hard for me to fathom.
We left Rome on Friday morning in need of a little R&R after the touring and chaos of Rome. We headed south to the beautiful Sorrento to stay in a hotel with a terrace that opens out to the "puerta grande" and looks directly at the active volcano of Mt. Vesuvius. If I were to live anywhere in Italy, it would be on the Amalfi Coast or around Cinque Terre. The taste of the Italian cuisine (with plenty of Mediterranean frutti de mare), the pace of Italian life, and the natural beauty of the cliffs plummeting into the crystal clear blue waters creates an atmosphere in these two regions that is unparalleled in any vacation spot I've ever been in. We ate, we drank, and we relaxed. On Saturday, we had a tour of the Amalfi coast, stopping in Positano, Amalfi, and Ravello. The coast is another UNESCO World Heratige site for the same reasons I loved Cinque Terre. We had a delicious meal in Ravello on a terrace that overlooked the coastline from 365 meters high (that's nearly 2000 feet of a straight dropo to sealevel) before heading back to our quiet Sorrento. Unknowingly, my family booked our trip to visit during my fall break, but most of the coast towns' businesses, restaurants, and tours close shop on November 1st. So, we had nearly 80 degree weather, sunny skies, and no crowds during the last days of the tourist season. Because this is my Dad's first trip to Italy, the country of 3/4 of his heritage, and with uncertainty of when he'll be back, he plunged into what he called warm waters of the Mediterranean. Yesterday, I had to say goodbye to Sorrento, our vacation, and my family, but not before visiting Pompeii and the crater of Mt. Vesuvius on our way back to Rome. Pompeii was a slight disappointment, but I was surprised by the vastness of the town that exists. I expected our driver to stop, say "Here is Pompeii, an ancient Roman city that was covered in 50 feet of ash when Mt. Vesuvius last errupted seriously in 79 AD" and for us to hop back in the Mercedes and head on our way. Instead, we had a 2 hour audio tour of the grounds. After about the first hour, I had grasped the feel of the place and felt ready to go. Luckily, my family had the same feeling. So, instead, we spent our last hour freely walking around and marveling at what still existed from 2000 years ago. Then, we headed to Mt. Vesuvius, one of the highlights of the trip for me. How often in one's life can he say "Hey, I'm standing in the crater of an active volcano." You can drive the majority of the way up the mountain, but the final stretch (about a 30 min steep-incline hike) can only be done by foot. I nearly jumped out of the car in excitement, but Dad and Ross did not match my enthusiasm. Ross can attest that I practically ran up the side of the mountain, leaving them both in the dust. We took some great shots from the smoking crater. From the 1,281 meter height, we had an amazing view of all of Naples and the port beside it. From the volcano, we headed back to Rome where we said our goodbyes and I hopped on a train to Florence.
With only 6 short weeks left in Italy, I feel like I need to enjoy every single day left. I have a busy November... leaving for Paris on Wednesday with James, Barcelona with him the weekend after, and then some special Davidson visitors for Thanksgiving weekend (and my 21st Birthday weekend, naturally). Having some quality family time was just what I needed to miss home, but be homesick. Still no bouts of that illness yet. I was also thrilled to share some of the experiences of my semester abroad with them. Neither of my parents had the opportunity to basically quit their lives for a few months and live in Europe, and who knows where or what Ross will end up doing in the next few years. I took a hiatus as photographer and handed the responsibility to my Mom, who will certainly post the 1000+ photos she took in our 10 days together as soon as possible. I'm a lucky lucky girl to have the life I do and the best part of experiencing it is sharing it with the people you love.
In Florence, we visited the heavy hitters: the Uffizzi, the Accademia, and the Duomo as well as indulging in some of the best Tuscan cuisine. We ate well in Florence. I wanted to give my parents and brother a true taste of what/how I've been enjoying Tuscan cuisine for the semester. With all the walking, I can't say that I've sent them back with any lighter, but maybe on a diet instead. Something I will never be in my next life: a tourguide. After a night's sleep on a trans-Atlantic flight, I had my poor family walking all of Florence in my eagerness to show them the city that I've fallen in love with. Needless to say, they needed a nap after some pizza from my favorite spot. The beauty of Florence is, though, that you can walk everywhere. The birth of the renaissance is within one-square block. And the circumference of the ancient city walls, one can stumble upon all the treasures and masterpieces that Italy has to offer.
Siena is much of the same, only smaller and less famous. On our way to Siena, we stopped at two famous Tuscan towns: San Gimignano and Monteriggioni. Spending only a few hours in each spot, you can get the feel of each medieval town. I had visited both of these spots before, so my parents enjoyed the luxury (or curse) of once again having me as their tourguide. We then spent one day walking around the city and the campo of Siena before heading out on a tour with Gianni of the Chianti region of Tuscany. We visited several tiny towns (one with only 23 inhabitants!), a Baron's Castle, and a winery, before heading to the capital of the Roman empire for a few days. Mom decided that rather than having a driver, they needed to experience the European train system (something totally foreign to North Carolinians). So, by train, we made our way from Siena to Rome. This is the point in the trip in which I stop being familiar with the area and the cities. I consider myself pretty well-traveled in Italy by now, but I haven't made my way south enough to get to Rome or Sorrento, so my days as a tour guide ended. They did not, however, end as translator to taxi drivers, map dissector, or metro navigator. We arrived to our hotel in Rome (where the famous Rick Steve's son was also staying) mid-week with a precarious weather forecast. We visited the two sights that Mom had not scheduled in our tours: the Spanish steps and the Trevi Foutain. Both beautiful, and both extremely crowded. Mom had beautifully planned everyday of this vacation with a guided tour or a pre-planned means of transportation, so torrential downpours could have put this planning to waste. It did rain the morning of our scheduled Classics Tour of Rome, but our guide luckily switched our tickets and we headed to the massiveness of the Vatican. On Wednesday mornings, however, the Pope gives an audience to pilgrims and because of the weather, this was held in Saint Peter's Cathedral -- as the largetst church in the world, its one of the highlights of the Vatican, if not THE highlight behind the Michelangelo's Sistine chapel. Luckily, our tour of the museum and the chapel lasted long enough that the cathedral re-opened. I was not prepared for the extravagence of the Vatican. I had no idea of the amount of the Vatican's collection: priceless Renaissance masterpieces, ancient Roman statues, or Egyptian artifacts. Each corridor rivals any noteworthy museum. The day turned out to only be drizzly, so we walked around Rome, grabbed some pizza, indulged in a siesta, and shopped in the best shops that Italy has to offer. I may or may not be returning with a new Gucci purse. Splurg! We woke up with clear skies on Thursday morning to juxtapose the famed beauty of modern Rome with that of the Ancient Empire: We had guided tours of the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill, and the Pantheon. Everything is as impressive as one would imagine. The major walk-away message I took from the Ancient Roman Empire: Some of beautiful, detailed, elaborate, and massive structures were built before the birth of Christ. And not just a handful of buildings. Countries and countries worth. That's hard for me to fathom.
We left Rome on Friday morning in need of a little R&R after the touring and chaos of Rome. We headed south to the beautiful Sorrento to stay in a hotel with a terrace that opens out to the "puerta grande" and looks directly at the active volcano of Mt. Vesuvius. If I were to live anywhere in Italy, it would be on the Amalfi Coast or around Cinque Terre. The taste of the Italian cuisine (with plenty of Mediterranean frutti de mare), the pace of Italian life, and the natural beauty of the cliffs plummeting into the crystal clear blue waters creates an atmosphere in these two regions that is unparalleled in any vacation spot I've ever been in. We ate, we drank, and we relaxed. On Saturday, we had a tour of the Amalfi coast, stopping in Positano, Amalfi, and Ravello. The coast is another UNESCO World Heratige site for the same reasons I loved Cinque Terre. We had a delicious meal in Ravello on a terrace that overlooked the coastline from 365 meters high (that's nearly 2000 feet of a straight dropo to sealevel) before heading back to our quiet Sorrento. Unknowingly, my family booked our trip to visit during my fall break, but most of the coast towns' businesses, restaurants, and tours close shop on November 1st. So, we had nearly 80 degree weather, sunny skies, and no crowds during the last days of the tourist season. Because this is my Dad's first trip to Italy, the country of 3/4 of his heritage, and with uncertainty of when he'll be back, he plunged into what he called warm waters of the Mediterranean. Yesterday, I had to say goodbye to Sorrento, our vacation, and my family, but not before visiting Pompeii and the crater of Mt. Vesuvius on our way back to Rome. Pompeii was a slight disappointment, but I was surprised by the vastness of the town that exists. I expected our driver to stop, say "Here is Pompeii, an ancient Roman city that was covered in 50 feet of ash when Mt. Vesuvius last errupted seriously in 79 AD" and for us to hop back in the Mercedes and head on our way. Instead, we had a 2 hour audio tour of the grounds. After about the first hour, I had grasped the feel of the place and felt ready to go. Luckily, my family had the same feeling. So, instead, we spent our last hour freely walking around and marveling at what still existed from 2000 years ago. Then, we headed to Mt. Vesuvius, one of the highlights of the trip for me. How often in one's life can he say "Hey, I'm standing in the crater of an active volcano." You can drive the majority of the way up the mountain, but the final stretch (about a 30 min steep-incline hike) can only be done by foot. I nearly jumped out of the car in excitement, but Dad and Ross did not match my enthusiasm. Ross can attest that I practically ran up the side of the mountain, leaving them both in the dust. We took some great shots from the smoking crater. From the 1,281 meter height, we had an amazing view of all of Naples and the port beside it. From the volcano, we headed back to Rome where we said our goodbyes and I hopped on a train to Florence.
With only 6 short weeks left in Italy, I feel like I need to enjoy every single day left. I have a busy November... leaving for Paris on Wednesday with James, Barcelona with him the weekend after, and then some special Davidson visitors for Thanksgiving weekend (and my 21st Birthday weekend, naturally). Having some quality family time was just what I needed to miss home, but be homesick. Still no bouts of that illness yet. I was also thrilled to share some of the experiences of my semester abroad with them. Neither of my parents had the opportunity to basically quit their lives for a few months and live in Europe, and who knows where or what Ross will end up doing in the next few years. I took a hiatus as photographer and handed the responsibility to my Mom, who will certainly post the 1000+ photos she took in our 10 days together as soon as possible. I'm a lucky lucky girl to have the life I do and the best part of experiencing it is sharing it with the people you love.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Laying like a Starfish
Ah, I'm already regretting what I said in my last post about enjoying the fall-like weather. Caroline and I need a space heater in our room. We're barely making it to 70 degrees these days in Florence and I've broken out and broken in my favorite Saturday morning at Davidson outfit: the Connor zip-up, yoga pants, and UGGs. In the weekend before midterms, I have not cracked open one book, but instead spent a few days in the Florence and a few days on the coast with James in Cinque Terre. We both ended up with beautiful schedules that leave us free by mid-afternoon on Wednesdays until Monday mornings, so James arrived to a meal of penne with meat sauce and a table full of Davidson friends on Wednesday evening. Another typical Davidson Wednesday found us ending our night at the Lion's Fountain, chowing down on burritos, and mozing across Florence to JD and Dugan's apartment. Thursday morning, James and I hopped on a train (No, James, not in a fast car) and headed off to Cinque Terre, a series of 5 towns along the Italian Rivera with trails connecting each unique seaside town through the National Park. We stayed in Riomaggiore, the first of the 5 towns, on the hillside. After attending a "Drink Like An American Party" in Valencia on Tuesday night, James forgot to print out a map of the town, so lacking direction, Wifi, and mastery of the Italian language, we hopped off the train and luckily found the hotel after climbing a only a few hundred sets of stairs. A water-facing terrace proved to be the perfect location for sunset-gazing both nights before heading down into the town for dinner. Porches of the American South have always been a weakness, and even if I had to be curled up in a huge blanket to star-gaze later in the evenings, terraces on the Mediteranean coast of Italy will definitely suffice for the semester. Known for its seafood, Riomaggiore has a small marina and rocky beach area that only adds to the atmosphere for eating. Luckily, James is an adventurous eater as I am, and we indulged in stuffed anchovis, seafood salads, mussels in marinara, seafood spaghetti, and pizza al mare for the entirety of our stay.
Friday, we hiked the Via Dell'Amore between Riomaggiore and Manarola and the trail between Corniliga and Vernazza. In my group trip to Cinque Terre with 90 degree temperatures and massive crowds, the chill of the October air under a cloudless sky made the day memorable. We picked up some faccacia (with pesto, my favorite) in Corniliga and ate some lunch by the water. By the time we made it to Manarola, I was in need of gelato after a 3 day hiatus. Without my usual peanut butter and chocolate go-to, I selected what I thought to be the next-best flavors: Nutella, Chocolate, and Mint Chocolate Chip. The nutella scoop was a warm scoop of nutella rather than a nutella flavored gelato. Not my best selections. We spent some time on the beach in Monterosso al Mare and grabbed a beer and prosecco by the water before escaping from the flies and heading back to our Riomaggiore. In need of a late-afternoon snack, James picked up a piece of olive and anchovi pizza while I grabbed a bottle of prosecco and two riceballs, a famous Ritter favorite and the topic of my admission essay to Davidson. We followed the pre-meal snacks with another beautiful sunset and another amazing meal. Afterwards, I PASSED out, arms and legs outstretched and told James not to touch me while I was "laying like a starfish, only, I must've had my 5th apendage cut-off, since my head was shorter than my limps". You can take the girl out of the science classrooms, but you can't take the science nerd out of the girl.
Cinque Terre provided the perfect setting for several of the best days of the semester, hands down. The towns combine outdoorsy with beauty, seaside with mountains, making our experience romantic, intimate, and breath-taking. Its easy to see why the region is an UNESCO World Heritage Site. Saturday morning, we thought about doing some more exploring North of Cinque Terre, but after an hour of rocky relaxation literally sitting in the sea, we decided that we'd head on back to Florence so we could indulge in another Florentine dinner with our friends. That's the thing about Italian culture -- it all revolves around meals, something I've quickly adopted into my life. I love nothing more than a several course meal, a glass of wine, and some engaging conversations. I said it in one of my first posts, but it does force you to take a step back, relax, and genuinely get to know people. After a 100+ decibal country concert in my apartment, we ended up back at Lion's Fountain, per usual, and finding people from all over the country that knew people from Davidson, per usual. Meredith and James marked the walls with some Kappa Connor graffiti before we headed to the Hamburgler's and back the boys' apartment.
After a few verses of John Denver's "I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane", James headed back to Valencia on the 1:30 flight yesterday, and I ended up sleeping until 12:30. Not that a shorter day made the day go by any faster. Something about Sundays really make me miss home. Keeping with the musical theme, I should start singing "That's what I love about Sundays" right now. It must be how I usually spend my Sundays: with my family watching football. Mom always makes something yummy and I always end up napping through at least 1 half of one of the games. Needless to say, after this week of "midterms", I'll be more than ready for Mom, Dad, and Ross to arrive Friday morning and spend 10 days with them exploring Florence, Siena, Tuscany, Rome, the Amalfi coast, Mount Vesuvius, Sorrento, and Pompeii!
Friday, we hiked the Via Dell'Amore between Riomaggiore and Manarola and the trail between Corniliga and Vernazza. In my group trip to Cinque Terre with 90 degree temperatures and massive crowds, the chill of the October air under a cloudless sky made the day memorable. We picked up some faccacia (with pesto, my favorite) in Corniliga and ate some lunch by the water. By the time we made it to Manarola, I was in need of gelato after a 3 day hiatus. Without my usual peanut butter and chocolate go-to, I selected what I thought to be the next-best flavors: Nutella, Chocolate, and Mint Chocolate Chip. The nutella scoop was a warm scoop of nutella rather than a nutella flavored gelato. Not my best selections. We spent some time on the beach in Monterosso al Mare and grabbed a beer and prosecco by the water before escaping from the flies and heading back to our Riomaggiore. In need of a late-afternoon snack, James picked up a piece of olive and anchovi pizza while I grabbed a bottle of prosecco and two riceballs, a famous Ritter favorite and the topic of my admission essay to Davidson. We followed the pre-meal snacks with another beautiful sunset and another amazing meal. Afterwards, I PASSED out, arms and legs outstretched and told James not to touch me while I was "laying like a starfish, only, I must've had my 5th apendage cut-off, since my head was shorter than my limps". You can take the girl out of the science classrooms, but you can't take the science nerd out of the girl.
Cinque Terre provided the perfect setting for several of the best days of the semester, hands down. The towns combine outdoorsy with beauty, seaside with mountains, making our experience romantic, intimate, and breath-taking. Its easy to see why the region is an UNESCO World Heritage Site. Saturday morning, we thought about doing some more exploring North of Cinque Terre, but after an hour of rocky relaxation literally sitting in the sea, we decided that we'd head on back to Florence so we could indulge in another Florentine dinner with our friends. That's the thing about Italian culture -- it all revolves around meals, something I've quickly adopted into my life. I love nothing more than a several course meal, a glass of wine, and some engaging conversations. I said it in one of my first posts, but it does force you to take a step back, relax, and genuinely get to know people. After a 100+ decibal country concert in my apartment, we ended up back at Lion's Fountain, per usual, and finding people from all over the country that knew people from Davidson, per usual. Meredith and James marked the walls with some Kappa Connor graffiti before we headed to the Hamburgler's and back the boys' apartment.
After a few verses of John Denver's "I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane", James headed back to Valencia on the 1:30 flight yesterday, and I ended up sleeping until 12:30. Not that a shorter day made the day go by any faster. Something about Sundays really make me miss home. Keeping with the musical theme, I should start singing "That's what I love about Sundays" right now. It must be how I usually spend my Sundays: with my family watching football. Mom always makes something yummy and I always end up napping through at least 1 half of one of the games. Needless to say, after this week of "midterms", I'll be more than ready for Mom, Dad, and Ross to arrive Friday morning and spend 10 days with them exploring Florence, Siena, Tuscany, Rome, the Amalfi coast, Mount Vesuvius, Sorrento, and Pompeii!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Venetian Weekend
On Wednesday night, we went to a recommended resturaunt with the crew for a quiet night before our early train to Pisa. Ended up not being so quiet when we overindulged in the "Free House Wine to Students" deal that Dante's had. Needless to say, our 7:30 Meet Time came way too early. JD made the ride memorable to all aboard.
We arrive in Venice around 11 to find 50 degree weather and torrential downpours. When I told James that they were calling for rain while I was in Venice, he wittily replied, "Hope it doesn't flood." We were supposed to walk to our hotel in San Marco Square, about a mile and a half from the train station. With our bags and without our rainboots, this proved to be too big a feat. Lucca hailed a water taxi for the 15 of us and we arrived at our hotel the only way appropriately: by water. Our hotel was in PRIME location, surrounded by the high fashion stores and less than 100 feet from San Marco Square, the largest square in Venice. And when I say hotel, I mean more like apartments. Caroline, Keena, Emily, and I had a 2 bedroom, 2 bath apartment with kitchenette. We had a few hours of free time so that we could circumvent the rain for our 4 hour walking tour scheduled for later in the day. Lucca warned us that the Venetians aren't particularly known for their hospitality and advised us to stay around the tourist resturaunts. We may have taken this a little too literally in our lunch date at Hard Rock Cafe on Saturday, but on Friday we ate a pizza, had a rude man yell at JD, and have a waitor who very well could've been on drugs put ketchup on the other table's fries, for them. After a 20 min nap at the hotel, we met in the lobby for a walking tour... in the sun. Although it remained windy and chilly, Caroline commented that it felt like football weather. I couldn't have agreed more. In a Florence "Fall" where high temperatures haven't dropped below 85, the football weather was refreshing. But after 2 days of it, I'm glad to be back with the warm Florentines.
Lucca strolled us around Venice, stopping at a few locations to explain the importance, but for the most part, our tour gave us the ability to get a feel for Venice at large. Afterward, we took a promised gondola ride. We had been going since 7 am that morning, and finally sitting down to relax and enjoy our surroundings made me realize how freakin' lucky I am. Gondola rides, as cliche as they are, are something that everyone who loves Italy has to do once in a lifetime. Well, as we were riding along, we were finally doing it. 20 years old in Italy for 5 months. Pretty awesome.
Afterward, Milva and Lucca had arranged aVenetian meal for us. 5 courses. Seafood platter (obvi my favorite), bruschetta, vegetable lasagna, veal, salad, and potatoes, and gelato and fruit to finish! When you start a meal off with 3 pieces of bread, 5 courses are a lot to manage. We then headed back to our "apartments" where I decided to relax in the bathtub, go find some WiFi, and watch some CNN before heading to bed.
Another early morning greeted us with a free breakfast buffet. We then met a spunky little tourguide and headed to the Doge's Palace, San Marco Cathedral, and the Prisions. I've never so many gold ceilings in my life than in the Palace and the Cathedral. Absolutely beautiful. Afterward, we headed to a Murano glass factory, ironically in Venice, to have a glass blowing demonstration, listen to a mini-lecture, and visit the showroom. If the glass wasn't so expensive, I would be coming home with Christmas ornaments for all. That afternoon, we were left to fend for ourselves for about 5 hours. With our subpar experience at lunch the day before, we decided to cut our losses and indulge in some American cuisine for lunch. I happily hate buffalo tenders and french fries on the second floor of the Hard Rock Cafe that overlooked a canal full of gondolas. The girls then went for an afternoon of purusing the narrow streets of Venice, stopping in any shop of interest. After an assortment of afternoon snacks we headed back to the hotel to meet the rest of the group to walk to the Jewish Ghetto. In the Venetian dialect, "gheto" means to sequester, throw away, or set apart, a definition that coined the usage of the word "ghetto" all over the world. During the early 20th century, the Venetian ghetto appealed to Jews all over Europe who were living in isolation and injustice. Venice separated the Jews, but offered them financial opportunity and protection. Although Venice wanted to be the Christian city model, officials also wanted the revenue that the Jews provided. Venice is a city founded on commerce with truly capitalist tendancies, and when they thought of the Jews, they saw dollar signs. We happened to tour on Yom Kippur so a few children were playing in the main square, but for the most part, the ghetto was quiet. With only 2 exits, the Venetians used to force the Jews to lock themselves in at night and Venetians patrolled the canal surrounding the tiny island. It was an eerie feeling to be walking through there, like I was infringing on someone else's space, although it is now open to all.
We made it back to the train station an hour before our train left, so we say on a ledge beside the canal and people and boatwatched. I didn't find Venice to be as intimate or romantic as I had expected. The narrow streets and hundreds of small bridges were packed with tourists and sometimes we literally had to push our way through the crowd or simply stand in line. October is high season in Venice and we could definitely tell by the number of people. Our tourguide said that she's been giving tours for 11 years and 11 years ago, there were 11 million tourists to travel to Venice. Last year, there were 22 million. In a decade, the number has doubled and unfortunately, Venice doesn't have the space for them to spread out. It made us all appreciate to be living in Florence, still a small city in comparison to Rome, London, or Paris, its comfortable but not claustrophobic. Less than 2 weeks until my Mom, Dad and Ross arrive! Ciao!
We arrive in Venice around 11 to find 50 degree weather and torrential downpours. When I told James that they were calling for rain while I was in Venice, he wittily replied, "Hope it doesn't flood." We were supposed to walk to our hotel in San Marco Square, about a mile and a half from the train station. With our bags and without our rainboots, this proved to be too big a feat. Lucca hailed a water taxi for the 15 of us and we arrived at our hotel the only way appropriately: by water. Our hotel was in PRIME location, surrounded by the high fashion stores and less than 100 feet from San Marco Square, the largest square in Venice. And when I say hotel, I mean more like apartments. Caroline, Keena, Emily, and I had a 2 bedroom, 2 bath apartment with kitchenette. We had a few hours of free time so that we could circumvent the rain for our 4 hour walking tour scheduled for later in the day. Lucca warned us that the Venetians aren't particularly known for their hospitality and advised us to stay around the tourist resturaunts. We may have taken this a little too literally in our lunch date at Hard Rock Cafe on Saturday, but on Friday we ate a pizza, had a rude man yell at JD, and have a waitor who very well could've been on drugs put ketchup on the other table's fries, for them. After a 20 min nap at the hotel, we met in the lobby for a walking tour... in the sun. Although it remained windy and chilly, Caroline commented that it felt like football weather. I couldn't have agreed more. In a Florence "Fall" where high temperatures haven't dropped below 85, the football weather was refreshing. But after 2 days of it, I'm glad to be back with the warm Florentines.
Lucca strolled us around Venice, stopping at a few locations to explain the importance, but for the most part, our tour gave us the ability to get a feel for Venice at large. Afterward, we took a promised gondola ride. We had been going since 7 am that morning, and finally sitting down to relax and enjoy our surroundings made me realize how freakin' lucky I am. Gondola rides, as cliche as they are, are something that everyone who loves Italy has to do once in a lifetime. Well, as we were riding along, we were finally doing it. 20 years old in Italy for 5 months. Pretty awesome.
Afterward, Milva and Lucca had arranged aVenetian meal for us. 5 courses. Seafood platter (obvi my favorite), bruschetta, vegetable lasagna, veal, salad, and potatoes, and gelato and fruit to finish! When you start a meal off with 3 pieces of bread, 5 courses are a lot to manage. We then headed back to our "apartments" where I decided to relax in the bathtub, go find some WiFi, and watch some CNN before heading to bed.
Another early morning greeted us with a free breakfast buffet. We then met a spunky little tourguide and headed to the Doge's Palace, San Marco Cathedral, and the Prisions. I've never so many gold ceilings in my life than in the Palace and the Cathedral. Absolutely beautiful. Afterward, we headed to a Murano glass factory, ironically in Venice, to have a glass blowing demonstration, listen to a mini-lecture, and visit the showroom. If the glass wasn't so expensive, I would be coming home with Christmas ornaments for all. That afternoon, we were left to fend for ourselves for about 5 hours. With our subpar experience at lunch the day before, we decided to cut our losses and indulge in some American cuisine for lunch. I happily hate buffalo tenders and french fries on the second floor of the Hard Rock Cafe that overlooked a canal full of gondolas. The girls then went for an afternoon of purusing the narrow streets of Venice, stopping in any shop of interest. After an assortment of afternoon snacks we headed back to the hotel to meet the rest of the group to walk to the Jewish Ghetto. In the Venetian dialect, "gheto" means to sequester, throw away, or set apart, a definition that coined the usage of the word "ghetto" all over the world. During the early 20th century, the Venetian ghetto appealed to Jews all over Europe who were living in isolation and injustice. Venice separated the Jews, but offered them financial opportunity and protection. Although Venice wanted to be the Christian city model, officials also wanted the revenue that the Jews provided. Venice is a city founded on commerce with truly capitalist tendancies, and when they thought of the Jews, they saw dollar signs. We happened to tour on Yom Kippur so a few children were playing in the main square, but for the most part, the ghetto was quiet. With only 2 exits, the Venetians used to force the Jews to lock themselves in at night and Venetians patrolled the canal surrounding the tiny island. It was an eerie feeling to be walking through there, like I was infringing on someone else's space, although it is now open to all.
We made it back to the train station an hour before our train left, so we say on a ledge beside the canal and people and boatwatched. I didn't find Venice to be as intimate or romantic as I had expected. The narrow streets and hundreds of small bridges were packed with tourists and sometimes we literally had to push our way through the crowd or simply stand in line. October is high season in Venice and we could definitely tell by the number of people. Our tourguide said that she's been giving tours for 11 years and 11 years ago, there were 11 million tourists to travel to Venice. Last year, there were 22 million. In a decade, the number has doubled and unfortunately, Venice doesn't have the space for them to spread out. It made us all appreciate to be living in Florence, still a small city in comparison to Rome, London, or Paris, its comfortable but not claustrophobic. Less than 2 weeks until my Mom, Dad and Ross arrive! Ciao!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
I just returned from my first adventure outside of Italy, a weekend in Valencia, Spain, where I battled two unfortunate aspects of my personality: my dislike for the chaos of travel and for dislike the chaos of crowds, two things that I confronted often in the third largest city in Spain. My lack of knowledge in regards to public transit is comical, which absolutely shoots my anxiety level off the radar when navigating it alone. BUT, to James', Marks' and my own surprise, I not only managed the train from Florence to Pisa, the Pisa airport, and the metro from the Valencia airport to my hotel by myself (even changing lines... the horror!) , with no hiccups and even arriving early. I may've had a little help though, namely James' bulleted directions with metro stops, directions, landmarks, and verbal explanation and my 4 years of Spanish Language courses. I will say that I was still pretty proud of myself when I got all checked-in before Mark arrived to meet me. James was with FSU in the Pyrenees last week (tough life) and he wasn't expected back in Valencia until 7 or so, a few hours after my flight landed. Indeed, he arrived early and missed us at the hotel by a mere 5 minutes, he made it up to my hotel room to discover that I, too, had made it early. My good pal Mark who is in Valencia studying with Virginia this semester offered to babysit with a few Spanish favorites and nice walking tour of the city until James "arrived".
Churros rank in the top 5 of my list of favorite Spanish foods. Who doesn't love deep-fried dough covered in sugar and dipped in chocolate sauce with a glass of nut milk to swallow them down with? Mark snapped a nice photo of me in my eating glory with a caption that summarizes our outing together: "forced ashton to do spanish things: drink horchata while eating churros and chocolate next to a cathedral." James found us in the plaza, conveniently located directly across from the one of the numerous Valencian McDonalds. From there, I changed hands for leisurely walk around town and Chinese dinner with James. Truly, the Spanish eat dinner very late. Way too late for this growling-stomach-at-6PM girl. But keeping with the culture, we ate dinner on Thursday night around 11, only to find the pushiest Chinese waitress. Cultural anomaly? James and I laughed every time she approached our table with her outslaught of questions. Everyone knows how much I love Chinese food and this being only my second chinese meal in the month and a half since I've been here, she couldn't have ruined the mood.
Friday, James took me on a historical walking tour of Valencia. As the Republican capital in their defeat during the 1930s Spanish Civil War, Franco and his forces hit Valencia hard. There are few "old" buildings as compared to Florence, even with Valencia's ancient history, passing hands from the Romans to the Arabians and back to the Spanards, but the city's architecture is completely modern. Curved, wavey and sleak designed buildings litter the city center, hotels, and especially the city of Arts and Sciences, all as a result of Franco's destruction. Late Friday afternoon, we indulged in another favorite Spanish tradition: Tapas. Many of the local restaurants have "Caña y tapa" (a small beer and tapas dish) from about 6:30-11. Loving this idea, I insisted that we "tapas hop" through the city. I think we managed to hit 4 different spots, each with prime people watching locations from their outdoor seating, before we finally made it to James' favorite dinner spot: the kebab and shawarma guy. Needless to say, the meal has become one of my favorites as well, combining spice, chicken, cheese and veggies all for a very cheap price. Until now, I had been too nervous to try the Kabab stop across the street from my apartment in Florence. That was my first stop off the train from Pisa last night. Another thing Valencia has done right: the public bike system. Each person can pay a flat annual fee for use of the numerous public bike locations throughout the city. For each trip, the first 30 mins are free then for additional time it charges a small fee on your credit card. James and Sam have memberships, but I posed a bit of an inconvenience. So, James and I attempted to manuver all variations to get us both on a bike for the long walk home. Miserable failure. Definitely only a 1-person bike unless you're like an acrobat or something.
Saturday, we decided to head to the beach. With James' skill of the metro and the tram system, we made it out for a beautiful but windy afternoon to catch some sun, get in the waves, and watch the regata in front of us. Valencia's beaches hosted the 2009 America's Cup and the wind was definitely available. I have never been a fan of sand, even since my childhood (many funny stories about that). Valencian beaches have a very fine sand and with an afternoon of wind, it was impossible to keep my towel as pristine as usual. Because of the sandy bottom, the water looks a lot like Atlantic water as compared to the crystal clear, rock bottom Meditteranean waters of Cinque Terre or Portofino on the Italian side. When NC Public Schools used to have a Fall Break, we always took a trip to the beach for the same reasons I loved the beach Saturday: the temperature is perfect, the water is still warm, and there are few other beach goers. After the beach, we quickly changed and grabbed another kabab before heading to the Granada v. Valencia futbol game. Because I played soccer for so many years, any excuse to get me to a European match will work, especially 15 Euro tickets in a prime location. We cheered and chanted the Valencians all the way to a 1-0 victory, although we nearly missed the only goal in the 3rd minute. The ball hit the back of the net as we walked out of the corridor to find our seats. By chance, we ran into another Davidson friend, Morgan, before the game outside the stadium and decided to meet up with her, Mark, and some of their friends after the game. They hadn't eaten dinner yet, and to our surprise, they wanted kababs! James and I refrained from our 3rd kabab in 24 hours, but we did enjoy the company of some Davidson and Americans alike. By the time we began the trek back, we had just missed the closing of the metro at 11:30, so James hailed yet another form of public transportation, a taxi.
The City of Arts and Sciences hosted the Paella Festival all weekend and after a few failed attempts at making it over there, we decided to go Sunday afternoon before my flight. With no convenient metro stop, we waited for my 7th form of public transportation, the city bus. (Yeah, count them: Train, Plane, Subway, Tram, Bike, Taxi, and Bus... how's that for conquering fears?) Unfortunately, we weren't the only people headed to the festival and James and I squished onto the bus (luckily airconditioned) for the 15 minute ride. Once there, we bought a few paella tickets that could be exchanged at any of the vendors for a plate. Crowds, another one of my weaknesses, squeezed through the narrow lane between vendors as James and I tried to choose different paellas. We managed to get 3 different kinds with varying amounts of cow tongue, seafood, rabbit as protein. We found a quiet place on the steps and enjoyed the people watching. From there, we walked to find the nearest (but by no means close) metro stop so that we could ride to the airport together. Once there, we enjoyed a Coca-Cola Regular and a Coca-Cola Light together before I headed out on my Ryanair flight. Luckily, I was 20 minutes early both ways as compared to James' 3 hour catastrophe last weekend. I made it back to Florence only to find an empty apartment. After living with my Aunt and Uncle in Boston this summer and their 2-week beach vacation which left me alone in their big ol' house, I knew that I could never live alone. All I wanted to do was hear about my roommates' trip to Oktoberfest in Munich and Caroline and Keena's trip to Madrid. Luckily, we have this beautiful thing called Skype, where James kept me company while I ate dinner and I caught up with my Mom and Dad afterward, getting out all the talking that I had desired.
I hope everyone in the States is enjoying the beautiful weather that October brings. In Florence, we've had an unusually warm September and October with temperatures in the upper 80s everyday and continuing to be forecasted. I told James last night that I will not complain about an 87 degree day, even if my closet lacks a summer variety, because come November when I'm shivering in my boots, I will want nothing more than a warm Florentine day. I loaded another batch of photos from the Grape Festival and Valencia. We head to Venice on Friday as a program so I'll have plenty to fill y'all in next weekend. Ciao!
Churros rank in the top 5 of my list of favorite Spanish foods. Who doesn't love deep-fried dough covered in sugar and dipped in chocolate sauce with a glass of nut milk to swallow them down with? Mark snapped a nice photo of me in my eating glory with a caption that summarizes our outing together: "forced ashton to do spanish things: drink horchata while eating churros and chocolate next to a cathedral." James found us in the plaza, conveniently located directly across from the one of the numerous Valencian McDonalds. From there, I changed hands for leisurely walk around town and Chinese dinner with James. Truly, the Spanish eat dinner very late. Way too late for this growling-stomach-at-6PM girl. But keeping with the culture, we ate dinner on Thursday night around 11, only to find the pushiest Chinese waitress. Cultural anomaly? James and I laughed every time she approached our table with her outslaught of questions. Everyone knows how much I love Chinese food and this being only my second chinese meal in the month and a half since I've been here, she couldn't have ruined the mood.
Friday, James took me on a historical walking tour of Valencia. As the Republican capital in their defeat during the 1930s Spanish Civil War, Franco and his forces hit Valencia hard. There are few "old" buildings as compared to Florence, even with Valencia's ancient history, passing hands from the Romans to the Arabians and back to the Spanards, but the city's architecture is completely modern. Curved, wavey and sleak designed buildings litter the city center, hotels, and especially the city of Arts and Sciences, all as a result of Franco's destruction. Late Friday afternoon, we indulged in another favorite Spanish tradition: Tapas. Many of the local restaurants have "Caña y tapa" (a small beer and tapas dish) from about 6:30-11. Loving this idea, I insisted that we "tapas hop" through the city. I think we managed to hit 4 different spots, each with prime people watching locations from their outdoor seating, before we finally made it to James' favorite dinner spot: the kebab and shawarma guy. Needless to say, the meal has become one of my favorites as well, combining spice, chicken, cheese and veggies all for a very cheap price. Until now, I had been too nervous to try the Kabab stop across the street from my apartment in Florence. That was my first stop off the train from Pisa last night. Another thing Valencia has done right: the public bike system. Each person can pay a flat annual fee for use of the numerous public bike locations throughout the city. For each trip, the first 30 mins are free then for additional time it charges a small fee on your credit card. James and Sam have memberships, but I posed a bit of an inconvenience. So, James and I attempted to manuver all variations to get us both on a bike for the long walk home. Miserable failure. Definitely only a 1-person bike unless you're like an acrobat or something.
Saturday, we decided to head to the beach. With James' skill of the metro and the tram system, we made it out for a beautiful but windy afternoon to catch some sun, get in the waves, and watch the regata in front of us. Valencia's beaches hosted the 2009 America's Cup and the wind was definitely available. I have never been a fan of sand, even since my childhood (many funny stories about that). Valencian beaches have a very fine sand and with an afternoon of wind, it was impossible to keep my towel as pristine as usual. Because of the sandy bottom, the water looks a lot like Atlantic water as compared to the crystal clear, rock bottom Meditteranean waters of Cinque Terre or Portofino on the Italian side. When NC Public Schools used to have a Fall Break, we always took a trip to the beach for the same reasons I loved the beach Saturday: the temperature is perfect, the water is still warm, and there are few other beach goers. After the beach, we quickly changed and grabbed another kabab before heading to the Granada v. Valencia futbol game. Because I played soccer for so many years, any excuse to get me to a European match will work, especially 15 Euro tickets in a prime location. We cheered and chanted the Valencians all the way to a 1-0 victory, although we nearly missed the only goal in the 3rd minute. The ball hit the back of the net as we walked out of the corridor to find our seats. By chance, we ran into another Davidson friend, Morgan, before the game outside the stadium and decided to meet up with her, Mark, and some of their friends after the game. They hadn't eaten dinner yet, and to our surprise, they wanted kababs! James and I refrained from our 3rd kabab in 24 hours, but we did enjoy the company of some Davidson and Americans alike. By the time we began the trek back, we had just missed the closing of the metro at 11:30, so James hailed yet another form of public transportation, a taxi.
The City of Arts and Sciences hosted the Paella Festival all weekend and after a few failed attempts at making it over there, we decided to go Sunday afternoon before my flight. With no convenient metro stop, we waited for my 7th form of public transportation, the city bus. (Yeah, count them: Train, Plane, Subway, Tram, Bike, Taxi, and Bus... how's that for conquering fears?) Unfortunately, we weren't the only people headed to the festival and James and I squished onto the bus (luckily airconditioned) for the 15 minute ride. Once there, we bought a few paella tickets that could be exchanged at any of the vendors for a plate. Crowds, another one of my weaknesses, squeezed through the narrow lane between vendors as James and I tried to choose different paellas. We managed to get 3 different kinds with varying amounts of cow tongue, seafood, rabbit as protein. We found a quiet place on the steps and enjoyed the people watching. From there, we walked to find the nearest (but by no means close) metro stop so that we could ride to the airport together. Once there, we enjoyed a Coca-Cola Regular and a Coca-Cola Light together before I headed out on my Ryanair flight. Luckily, I was 20 minutes early both ways as compared to James' 3 hour catastrophe last weekend. I made it back to Florence only to find an empty apartment. After living with my Aunt and Uncle in Boston this summer and their 2-week beach vacation which left me alone in their big ol' house, I knew that I could never live alone. All I wanted to do was hear about my roommates' trip to Oktoberfest in Munich and Caroline and Keena's trip to Madrid. Luckily, we have this beautiful thing called Skype, where James kept me company while I ate dinner and I caught up with my Mom and Dad afterward, getting out all the talking that I had desired.
I hope everyone in the States is enjoying the beautiful weather that October brings. In Florence, we've had an unusually warm September and October with temperatures in the upper 80s everyday and continuing to be forecasted. I told James last night that I will not complain about an 87 degree day, even if my closet lacks a summer variety, because come November when I'm shivering in my boots, I will want nothing more than a warm Florentine day. I loaded another batch of photos from the Grape Festival and Valencia. We head to Venice on Friday as a program so I'll have plenty to fill y'all in next weekend. Ciao!
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Friends in Firenze
My last post detailed my amazing weekend with my grandparents, but this post will highlight my amazing, slightly younger, friends. Because abroad students have so many other friends studying in Europe and because travelling is so easy and relatively inexpensive, very few weekends are actually spent in one's "home city" while abroad. This weekend, James and Sam came to us and we indulged in some of the finest tourist attractions that Florence has to offer. All weekends start early because we don't have classes on Friday (and I don't on Thursday!) but I spent my Thursday pacing for my boyfriend to arrive. We had our first experience with RyanAir, a lowcost and nearly always delayed airline which I will be flying more than once this semester. The boys' flight got delayed by 3 hours after they had made the 40 min trek to the airport, making them approximately 6 hours early for their flight (you could say he was as excited to see me as I was him :). The Florence crew had planned a true Italian welcome dinner, including chicken caccitori, bruchetta, caprese salad, garlic bread, and vino. We planned the meal for when they were supposed to arrive around 9 pm, making it truly an Italian timed meal, but their new 12:30 arrival was not conducive for our grumbling stomachs, so we ate without them. James has not felt the need to buy a European cell phone, so I left him with descriptive instructions on how to navigate from the train station to my apartment since I had no clue what time they'd arrive. I sat, accompanied by two very good friends, hardly able to contain my excitement. They finally made it to Florence a little after midnight for a reheated bowl of chicken caccitori.
Saturday, James and I tried a cute little panini place for lunch and then reunited with Dugan, Caroline, JD, and Sam at the Duomo. We had passed the impressive cathedral multiple times everyday for the last month, yet not made it inside. What better way to get a view of Florence and the cathedral than from the top of it? So, we set out to climb the 461 stairs through the double-layered dome, to one of the highest points of the city. We had several breaks to admire the painted ceilings which made the climb much more manageable. Afterward, we headed to Santa Croce, another massive church in Florence, home to the resting place of Michelangelo and other famous Florentinians. Once again, Caroline and I were forced to wear our "modesty kimotos" (new name this time). Its a tough task to dress that modestly when its still 90 degrees at the end of September. I have learned to appreciate every detail of a piece of art, art of all kinds, in only 3 meetings of my art history class. Churches, and Florence in general, make this tough. James made a point that it's difficult to take in and fully analyze the intricacies of an entire renaissance building. You'd need days in a place like Santa Croce. I haven't even attempted the Uffizi or Academia yet. That night, we had a nice family dinner out and then a relatively wild evening out. It tends to happen when you get a few Davidson kids reunited.
Saturday, James and I had decided on having a date-day of sorts. James suggested visiting the Pitti Palace and the Boboli gardens while the weather remained nice and with a stroke of luck, admission for the entire grounds was free on that particular day. We strolled through the palace (massive collection of art once again) and through the gravel paved paths of the gardens. We didn't see as many flowers as we were expecting, so we kind of had enough of the shrubbery and decided to climb yet another hill to Piazzale Michelangelo and San Miniato Church. This peak offers a Southwest view of the city, spectacular on a clear day, and a great spot to take a seat, especially if you've got a cute boy by your side. We climbed the gazillion steps to San Miniato Church, the oldest church in Florence named after a martyr from the 3rd Century AD who lived as a hermit on the hillside where the church now sits. He was beheaded for his beliefs and, as legend has it, he flew back to his home, carrying his head. The Church served as a model for many of the later churches of Florence and the cemetery out back is something INCREDIBLE.
We wrapped up the day with a nice dinner at Acqua al Due. Highly recommeneded by all travelers to and through Florence. Afterwards, James and I sat amongst the statues in Piazza della Signoia where he told me the story of Perseus and Medusa -- full of knowledge, that boy. We then moved to the bridge next to the Ponte Vecchio, took a seat and enjoyed the view. Its easier to appreciate the Ponte Vecchio at night when you can't see how nasty the Arno really is.
Today, we had an almost-eventful morning getting James and Sam on a train to the Pisa Airport. Electronic ticketing machines are a great idea, until someone holds up the line in confusion. The boys made their train... running. Afterwards, we set out to Impruenta for their annual Grape Festival. Nice idea, but not what I was expecting. I envisioned an Italian version of the Lincolnton Apple Festival: Farmers bringing their harvest, local artists selling their products, and churches making bbq. While there were a few vendors (one where I found pollo fritte... YES, fried chicken!!), most of the afternoon revolved around the central square where each section of the village put on a performance to compete for top prize. I've never seen more elaborate costumes and floats with beautiful green and purple grapes as decoration. However, I don't handle crowds all that well (must be something about growing up in a small town) and having thousands of on-lookers crowded into one small square all shoving to see the same thing is not my idea of a good time. So, we watched for about the first 30 minutes or so and gave up to checkout the free samples. After each performance is over, anyone is welcome to take as many grapes from the floats as desired. Needless to say, if you leave it to 5 girls on a college budget, you'll have a kitchen stocked of grapes for a while.
In all, I had a great weekend. We go to class each week living for the weekends and my weekends have a lot in store for the remainder of the semester. I posted plenty of new pictures. Enjoy and ciao!
Saturday, James and I tried a cute little panini place for lunch and then reunited with Dugan, Caroline, JD, and Sam at the Duomo. We had passed the impressive cathedral multiple times everyday for the last month, yet not made it inside. What better way to get a view of Florence and the cathedral than from the top of it? So, we set out to climb the 461 stairs through the double-layered dome, to one of the highest points of the city. We had several breaks to admire the painted ceilings which made the climb much more manageable. Afterward, we headed to Santa Croce, another massive church in Florence, home to the resting place of Michelangelo and other famous Florentinians. Once again, Caroline and I were forced to wear our "modesty kimotos" (new name this time). Its a tough task to dress that modestly when its still 90 degrees at the end of September. I have learned to appreciate every detail of a piece of art, art of all kinds, in only 3 meetings of my art history class. Churches, and Florence in general, make this tough. James made a point that it's difficult to take in and fully analyze the intricacies of an entire renaissance building. You'd need days in a place like Santa Croce. I haven't even attempted the Uffizi or Academia yet. That night, we had a nice family dinner out and then a relatively wild evening out. It tends to happen when you get a few Davidson kids reunited.
Saturday, James and I had decided on having a date-day of sorts. James suggested visiting the Pitti Palace and the Boboli gardens while the weather remained nice and with a stroke of luck, admission for the entire grounds was free on that particular day. We strolled through the palace (massive collection of art once again) and through the gravel paved paths of the gardens. We didn't see as many flowers as we were expecting, so we kind of had enough of the shrubbery and decided to climb yet another hill to Piazzale Michelangelo and San Miniato Church. This peak offers a Southwest view of the city, spectacular on a clear day, and a great spot to take a seat, especially if you've got a cute boy by your side. We climbed the gazillion steps to San Miniato Church, the oldest church in Florence named after a martyr from the 3rd Century AD who lived as a hermit on the hillside where the church now sits. He was beheaded for his beliefs and, as legend has it, he flew back to his home, carrying his head. The Church served as a model for many of the later churches of Florence and the cemetery out back is something INCREDIBLE.
We wrapped up the day with a nice dinner at Acqua al Due. Highly recommeneded by all travelers to and through Florence. Afterwards, James and I sat amongst the statues in Piazza della Signoia where he told me the story of Perseus and Medusa -- full of knowledge, that boy. We then moved to the bridge next to the Ponte Vecchio, took a seat and enjoyed the view. Its easier to appreciate the Ponte Vecchio at night when you can't see how nasty the Arno really is.
Today, we had an almost-eventful morning getting James and Sam on a train to the Pisa Airport. Electronic ticketing machines are a great idea, until someone holds up the line in confusion. The boys made their train... running. Afterwards, we set out to Impruenta for their annual Grape Festival. Nice idea, but not what I was expecting. I envisioned an Italian version of the Lincolnton Apple Festival: Farmers bringing their harvest, local artists selling their products, and churches making bbq. While there were a few vendors (one where I found pollo fritte... YES, fried chicken!!), most of the afternoon revolved around the central square where each section of the village put on a performance to compete for top prize. I've never seen more elaborate costumes and floats with beautiful green and purple grapes as decoration. However, I don't handle crowds all that well (must be something about growing up in a small town) and having thousands of on-lookers crowded into one small square all shoving to see the same thing is not my idea of a good time. So, we watched for about the first 30 minutes or so and gave up to checkout the free samples. After each performance is over, anyone is welcome to take as many grapes from the floats as desired. Needless to say, if you leave it to 5 girls on a college budget, you'll have a kitchen stocked of grapes for a while.
In all, I had a great weekend. We go to class each week living for the weekends and my weekends have a lot in store for the remainder of the semester. I posted plenty of new pictures. Enjoy and ciao!
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Euro Trips, Tips, and Grandparents
Its been a few days since my last post since my grandparents (winners of the Papa and Nana of the year) wisked my off for a long weekend on the coast then through Tuscany! Wednesday night, they met Caroline and I at our apartment (my Papa really wanted to see how big the place was and make sure that it was in a nice area). We mozied through Florence on our way to a restraunt recommended by our advisors as "the best Tuscan food in Florence" ... Food here really doesn't disappoint. The restraunt was across town, so after passing the duomo (and after rolling my "winter suitcase" from their hotel) my Papa was scouting out places for a cold beer WITH air conditioning. We stopped in this really hip little bar off the main drag. There, we sat with locals while my grandparents enjoyed their first time drinking with their oldest granddaughter. Wednesday night, I learned my first trick to being a young American girl: Smile at the waiter. Not only did I get a free chocolate cake and an explanation of every dish on the menu, but he brought us an order of trippe (that's cow intestine...), a famous Florentine dish that I was too scared to order but certainly brave enough to try. Not too bad, by the way. After a stop at my favorite and frequently frequented gelato stop, I left my grandparents for the night with a plan for a 9 am departure time in the morning.
I left Florence without a good night of sleep and without knowing if I'd have wifi to talk to James/Caroline/my parents. It was tough breaking out of the little routine that I've gotten used to. But, Thursday morning, we left Florence for a pit stop in Pisa to catch a not-so-unique tower shot. After about 25 mins in Pisa (my Papa doesn't spend any longer in any place than he has to), we headed up to the coast of Santa Margharita Ligure, a port town with beaches and too many sailboats to count. We spent two days there, cruising the city, enjoying the water and the breeze, and realizing how lucky we were to be in Italy. The weather has been unusually hot for this time of year: Usually it is about 75 degrees in September. We've been pushing about 90-95 everyday. Each day, we woke up and went exploring, one day in Santa Marghartia, one day in Portofino, and came back to a little trattitori on the water for a cold drink and some focciacia, roasted veggies, rice balls, and of course some vino. Nana and I tried a house sparkling vino bianco that this place had on tap... for 1.50 Euro. Yes please. Each day, Papa disappeared for a little while, only to return with a bottle of wine for us to enjoy on our terrace before dinner. While there, I ate pesto penne, muscles, lasagna, and squid. Yum.
One thing I learned this weekend is that even though tipping is not customary in Europe, it is definitely built-in. The seating/service/bread charge which can reach up to 3 or 4 euro per person can surprise even the most carefree patron. Our 1.50 euro glass of wine, if delivered to our table, cost 2.50. I'll run up to the bar for the extra euro.
On Saturday, we left the coast for my grandparents' other favorite town: Siena. The namesake of my cousin, the walled medieval city was reminescent of Florence, but smaller, with a younger median age, and fewer tourists. We stopped in Monteriggioni, a walled castle and fortress about 10 kilometers from Siena on our way in. Everything in the entire town, the church, well, hideout, and housing, were located within the walls of the city. It was easy to travel back to the middle ages and imagine little italian boys fetching bread from the market for their mother. Siena was much of the same. A college city in a medieval town seemed right up my alley. We walked around and I got to listen of reminescents of my grandparents first, second, third, or more trips to Siena. How lucky am I to get to travel to the favorite places of my grandparents, WITH my grandparents as tour guides.
Today, we drove home through the Chianti region of Tuscany, famous for its red wine producing vineyards and picturesque rolling hills. We stopped at some vineyards and villas to "sample" some local culture. After a few hour car ride and a search and find mission for diesel, I'm back at home. Yeah, Florence feels like home already. We grabbed a panini on my street (before another gelato), and I told them both that I feel more comfortable here, not only because I've been here before or the finally cooler temperatures, but this is where I live. Nice to say that I LIVE in Italy. I posted some pictures from this weekend and I hope that I haven't rushed through this blog post, but I do have a few things to finish up and some homework to complete before class tomorrow. Yeah, we are studying here too, even as minimal as it may be.
All-in-all, having some company made me even more excited to have my guests for the rest of the semester. I've started making mental lists of all the places that everyone has to see. Maybe one semester isn't enough time after all. James arrives on Thursday, so I just have a few more days until our month of separation is over. I look forward to sharing all of this with him. And Mom and Dad, I'm still thanking you for the best gift you never knew you gave me: young grandparents.
I left Florence without a good night of sleep and without knowing if I'd have wifi to talk to James/Caroline/my parents. It was tough breaking out of the little routine that I've gotten used to. But, Thursday morning, we left Florence for a pit stop in Pisa to catch a not-so-unique tower shot. After about 25 mins in Pisa (my Papa doesn't spend any longer in any place than he has to), we headed up to the coast of Santa Margharita Ligure, a port town with beaches and too many sailboats to count. We spent two days there, cruising the city, enjoying the water and the breeze, and realizing how lucky we were to be in Italy. The weather has been unusually hot for this time of year: Usually it is about 75 degrees in September. We've been pushing about 90-95 everyday. Each day, we woke up and went exploring, one day in Santa Marghartia, one day in Portofino, and came back to a little trattitori on the water for a cold drink and some focciacia, roasted veggies, rice balls, and of course some vino. Nana and I tried a house sparkling vino bianco that this place had on tap... for 1.50 Euro. Yes please. Each day, Papa disappeared for a little while, only to return with a bottle of wine for us to enjoy on our terrace before dinner. While there, I ate pesto penne, muscles, lasagna, and squid. Yum.
One thing I learned this weekend is that even though tipping is not customary in Europe, it is definitely built-in. The seating/service/bread charge which can reach up to 3 or 4 euro per person can surprise even the most carefree patron. Our 1.50 euro glass of wine, if delivered to our table, cost 2.50. I'll run up to the bar for the extra euro.
On Saturday, we left the coast for my grandparents' other favorite town: Siena. The namesake of my cousin, the walled medieval city was reminescent of Florence, but smaller, with a younger median age, and fewer tourists. We stopped in Monteriggioni, a walled castle and fortress about 10 kilometers from Siena on our way in. Everything in the entire town, the church, well, hideout, and housing, were located within the walls of the city. It was easy to travel back to the middle ages and imagine little italian boys fetching bread from the market for their mother. Siena was much of the same. A college city in a medieval town seemed right up my alley. We walked around and I got to listen of reminescents of my grandparents first, second, third, or more trips to Siena. How lucky am I to get to travel to the favorite places of my grandparents, WITH my grandparents as tour guides.
Today, we drove home through the Chianti region of Tuscany, famous for its red wine producing vineyards and picturesque rolling hills. We stopped at some vineyards and villas to "sample" some local culture. After a few hour car ride and a search and find mission for diesel, I'm back at home. Yeah, Florence feels like home already. We grabbed a panini on my street (before another gelato), and I told them both that I feel more comfortable here, not only because I've been here before or the finally cooler temperatures, but this is where I live. Nice to say that I LIVE in Italy. I posted some pictures from this weekend and I hope that I haven't rushed through this blog post, but I do have a few things to finish up and some homework to complete before class tomorrow. Yeah, we are studying here too, even as minimal as it may be.
All-in-all, having some company made me even more excited to have my guests for the rest of the semester. I've started making mental lists of all the places that everyone has to see. Maybe one semester isn't enough time after all. James arrives on Thursday, so I just have a few more days until our month of separation is over. I look forward to sharing all of this with him. And Mom and Dad, I'm still thanking you for the best gift you never knew you gave me: young grandparents.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Nature Girl
Thursday night was one of the best nights of my life. We found ourselves at an American restaurant and bar called "The House of Sizzle" where it was wing night with beer specials. We ordered 120 oz of beer, wings, and burgers. Delish. Our beer was delivered with a firework on top, I guess in celebration of American commradery. And then to top it off, our waitress forgot to charge us for the beer. About 50 Euros of free booze for the table. Thank you, Italy.
After a night out at Shot Cafe and the opening night of Club 21, Friday morning, Keena, Caroline, and I woke up early and headed to the train station for a day at the beach. Thus far, our day trips and activities in Florence have been planned for us through the fabulous Lucca and Milva, but we decided that we wanted a day at the beach while the weather was still nice. So, we planned a trip (on our own) to Viareggio, a beach in West Tuscany, the closest to Florence. Everyone knows that I'm such a planner, with to-do lists always written down or mentally noted. Its tough to be completely planned in travelling, especially in another country. For the first time, I really felt like I wasn't at comfortably at home in the US of A. It was reassuring to have things go smoothly and casually for our first day truly out of our comfort zone. I need things that push me out of my OCD, type A personality. So, Friday morning, we hopped on the train around 9 and arrived at 11:30, just in time for an appropriate American lunch. Obviously not in Italy. Shops were JUST opening up for the day as beachgoers headed to the sea. We walked through the cute little town by the water, stopping in a few stores before finally decided where to eat. We had to wait for the restaurant to open. Our waitress knew zero English, but we managed to order and eat. I had calamari and shrimp with veggies. Delish. And had an awesome view of the ocean to top it all off.
The beaches in Viareggio are all private, so we were expecting to pay a few Euros for a beach chair and an afternoon of sunrays. We asked the non-English-speaking waitress what the protocall was. She couldn't offer us any information other than to just walk out onto the beach and pick a spot. So... we did. An hour later, the beach patrol man kindly asked us to show our ticket. With none, we promptly moved to another beach with some more signage explaining what to do. This beach, we soon discovered, was a topless beach. We saw our fair share of young topless Italians and skimpy bottoms. Caroline and I both agreed that THAT is the only form of culture shock we've experienced thus far. For the most part, Italians are much more in shape than Americans, but they really don't leave much of anything to the imagination, including the men in tight speedos. Another shock of the day: Street vendors selling fake purses, sunglasses, clothes, watches and jewelry moved their jobs onto the sand during the day. The salesmen are not shy either. At first, we thought the notion of these men with obviously fake Gucci purses walking around and badgering beachgoers to purchase was funny... until we became the victim of their harrassment for 5 hours. We must've screamed young American girls (maybe because we chose to keep our tops on?) because every 5 mins or so, we had some display of fake something in front of us. We responded with polite "no grazie, no grazie" but thankfully Keena finally showed some direct sternness and began answering "No." for us all.
We spent the day soaking up some rays and then headed back to Florence for a quiet girls night in. We had an early train to Cinque Terre Saturday morning and after a long day in the sun, we needed the sleep. Even with many a trips to the mountains, I have never had the term nature, granola, organic or the like associated with my name. Not because I dislike nature or because I don't value the beauty, but just because I'm a girly girl. I like pedicures and cooking vs. tents and mosquitos. I did make a valiant display of versatility for all the girly-girls of the world with very few complaints on our hike this weekend -- the view was inspirational. We met the Wells crew at Santa Maria Novella station for a nice commute to Cinque Terre, a cluster of 5 cliffside towns that overlook the ocean with trails between each. We casually strolled the first and most famous section of the trail deemed the "Via dell'amore" (street of love). The views were indescribable (I've added photos to facebook if you want a preview, but they don't nearly do the view justice). I can see why so many happy couples make the trek; Nature can be love-inspiring. The first trail is more of a paved path, so all of us expected the entire day to be easy breezy. We obviously weren't the only American students that decided to go to Cinque terre this weekend because we kept running into students that we had class with, making the train that ran from the 2nd and 3rd town especially crowded. We had no choice but to ride because the trail was closed, so we decided to hike the next 2 sections. The easiness of the first section disillusioned us for the trek betweek the 3rd and 4th. It kicked all of our butts: 4 km of mountain climbing (with rewarding views of the water nonetheless, making us want to jump in it because of the hot temperature). The builders of this trail were obviously not 5'2" women, because the old stairs were steep enough for me to jump down and almost tall enough for me to fully extend my leg, probably explaining why my muscles are a little sore today. The trail was hilly but the most difficult part was finding solid footing because the rocks that once paved the path were unsteady and uneven. Although we bit off a little more than we were expecting with that portion of the hike, the difficulty of the hike definitely made us all feel accomplished of what we had done when we finally reached the beach for the final hours of our day. We spent time in the salty but crystal clear waters of the 5th and final town of Monterosso. We all crashed on the train ride back. Like, unconscious, even amongst loud passengers entering and exiting.
Caroline and I were in definitely need for a relaxing night and day, so that is how we spent our Saturday night and Sunday. It has been a day to catch up with everyone after I've been so busy for the last 2 weeks. The reality that I'll be here until December has really start to hit. Luckily, my grandparents arrive on Wednesday and I look forward to a nice weekend travelling through Tuscany to all of their favorite places. James arrives in Florence the following weekend. I cannot wait to share this city with all of my visitors this semester. Florence has whatever someone is looking for: the slow pace of Italian lifestyle, or the city nightlife and restaurant variety. Its all here. All my lovin'!
After a night out at Shot Cafe and the opening night of Club 21, Friday morning, Keena, Caroline, and I woke up early and headed to the train station for a day at the beach. Thus far, our day trips and activities in Florence have been planned for us through the fabulous Lucca and Milva, but we decided that we wanted a day at the beach while the weather was still nice. So, we planned a trip (on our own) to Viareggio, a beach in West Tuscany, the closest to Florence. Everyone knows that I'm such a planner, with to-do lists always written down or mentally noted. Its tough to be completely planned in travelling, especially in another country. For the first time, I really felt like I wasn't at comfortably at home in the US of A. It was reassuring to have things go smoothly and casually for our first day truly out of our comfort zone. I need things that push me out of my OCD, type A personality. So, Friday morning, we hopped on the train around 9 and arrived at 11:30, just in time for an appropriate American lunch. Obviously not in Italy. Shops were JUST opening up for the day as beachgoers headed to the sea. We walked through the cute little town by the water, stopping in a few stores before finally decided where to eat. We had to wait for the restaurant to open. Our waitress knew zero English, but we managed to order and eat. I had calamari and shrimp with veggies. Delish. And had an awesome view of the ocean to top it all off.
The beaches in Viareggio are all private, so we were expecting to pay a few Euros for a beach chair and an afternoon of sunrays. We asked the non-English-speaking waitress what the protocall was. She couldn't offer us any information other than to just walk out onto the beach and pick a spot. So... we did. An hour later, the beach patrol man kindly asked us to show our ticket. With none, we promptly moved to another beach with some more signage explaining what to do. This beach, we soon discovered, was a topless beach. We saw our fair share of young topless Italians and skimpy bottoms. Caroline and I both agreed that THAT is the only form of culture shock we've experienced thus far. For the most part, Italians are much more in shape than Americans, but they really don't leave much of anything to the imagination, including the men in tight speedos. Another shock of the day: Street vendors selling fake purses, sunglasses, clothes, watches and jewelry moved their jobs onto the sand during the day. The salesmen are not shy either. At first, we thought the notion of these men with obviously fake Gucci purses walking around and badgering beachgoers to purchase was funny... until we became the victim of their harrassment for 5 hours. We must've screamed young American girls (maybe because we chose to keep our tops on?) because every 5 mins or so, we had some display of fake something in front of us. We responded with polite "no grazie, no grazie" but thankfully Keena finally showed some direct sternness and began answering "No." for us all.
We spent the day soaking up some rays and then headed back to Florence for a quiet girls night in. We had an early train to Cinque Terre Saturday morning and after a long day in the sun, we needed the sleep. Even with many a trips to the mountains, I have never had the term nature, granola, organic or the like associated with my name. Not because I dislike nature or because I don't value the beauty, but just because I'm a girly girl. I like pedicures and cooking vs. tents and mosquitos. I did make a valiant display of versatility for all the girly-girls of the world with very few complaints on our hike this weekend -- the view was inspirational. We met the Wells crew at Santa Maria Novella station for a nice commute to Cinque Terre, a cluster of 5 cliffside towns that overlook the ocean with trails between each. We casually strolled the first and most famous section of the trail deemed the "Via dell'amore" (street of love). The views were indescribable (I've added photos to facebook if you want a preview, but they don't nearly do the view justice). I can see why so many happy couples make the trek; Nature can be love-inspiring. The first trail is more of a paved path, so all of us expected the entire day to be easy breezy. We obviously weren't the only American students that decided to go to Cinque terre this weekend because we kept running into students that we had class with, making the train that ran from the 2nd and 3rd town especially crowded. We had no choice but to ride because the trail was closed, so we decided to hike the next 2 sections. The easiness of the first section disillusioned us for the trek betweek the 3rd and 4th. It kicked all of our butts: 4 km of mountain climbing (with rewarding views of the water nonetheless, making us want to jump in it because of the hot temperature). The builders of this trail were obviously not 5'2" women, because the old stairs were steep enough for me to jump down and almost tall enough for me to fully extend my leg, probably explaining why my muscles are a little sore today. The trail was hilly but the most difficult part was finding solid footing because the rocks that once paved the path were unsteady and uneven. Although we bit off a little more than we were expecting with that portion of the hike, the difficulty of the hike definitely made us all feel accomplished of what we had done when we finally reached the beach for the final hours of our day. We spent time in the salty but crystal clear waters of the 5th and final town of Monterosso. We all crashed on the train ride back. Like, unconscious, even amongst loud passengers entering and exiting.
Caroline and I were in definitely need for a relaxing night and day, so that is how we spent our Saturday night and Sunday. It has been a day to catch up with everyone after I've been so busy for the last 2 weeks. The reality that I'll be here until December has really start to hit. Luckily, my grandparents arrive on Wednesday and I look forward to a nice weekend travelling through Tuscany to all of their favorite places. James arrives in Florence the following weekend. I cannot wait to share this city with all of my visitors this semester. Florence has whatever someone is looking for: the slow pace of Italian lifestyle, or the city nightlife and restaurant variety. Its all here. All my lovin'!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Comforts of Home
I wrapped up my first week of classes on Wednesday afternoon. Its kind of crazy that I have more "weekend" days than I have "class" days this semester. We were all talking that at school we always have work to occupy our time. Here, we have hours of free time to do what we so choose. Filling the free time has been our only challenge.
Last night, JD cooked us a nice pasta dinner (with country music included). Afterwards, we went out for our first Wednesday night. It was Club 21's opening night so we put on our court party attitude and danced our hearts out. Nice way to celebrate my first week of class.
While most of my friends had class today, I was footloose and fancy free. One of my guilt pleasures at home is getting my nails done. After the copious amount of walking we've been doing in the last 2 weeks, my poor feet (and shoes!) have suffered the brunt of it. Keena eyed a nice looking spa and this morning, we took the plunge. It many not be the chinese women and my student discount, but Italians can give a pedicure. Afterwards, Caroline and I made some lunch and took a nap before going to a "Making Gelato" class at a Gelateria 2 blocks away. Detrimental to my physique. But, even across an ocean, I managed to fine peanut butter gelato making my flavor choice an easy one.
We had seen a ton of cute shops and markets around the city but we haven't really been in the mood/had the time to devote to shopping, believe it or not. In my day of guilty pleasures, I made my first Florentine purchases. I came home with a sweater poncho wrap, 2 snakeskin bracelets, and 5 pashmina scarves. It may not have been Gucci or Prada, but my purchases made my day. AND tonight I still have a lot to look forward to. We're headed over to an American restraunt for a burger and draft beer. Talk about containing my excitement. If only American football was on.
I don't know what I was thinking before heading here. I must've thought I was heading to a third word country without nail polish remover or Diet Coke. It may be 5 Euro for a "Coca-Cola Light", but the comforts of home indeed exist in this ancient city. Since the mosquitos have evacuated and we can open our huge windows, I'm not missing AC nearly as much these days with the temperatures down in the lower 80s. Tomorrow, we're headed on a train ride to Viareggio, the closest beach directly west of Florence, to soak up some end-of-season rays before hiking Cinque Terre on Saturday.
Last night, JD cooked us a nice pasta dinner (with country music included). Afterwards, we went out for our first Wednesday night. It was Club 21's opening night so we put on our court party attitude and danced our hearts out. Nice way to celebrate my first week of class.
While most of my friends had class today, I was footloose and fancy free. One of my guilt pleasures at home is getting my nails done. After the copious amount of walking we've been doing in the last 2 weeks, my poor feet (and shoes!) have suffered the brunt of it. Keena eyed a nice looking spa and this morning, we took the plunge. It many not be the chinese women and my student discount, but Italians can give a pedicure. Afterwards, Caroline and I made some lunch and took a nap before going to a "Making Gelato" class at a Gelateria 2 blocks away. Detrimental to my physique. But, even across an ocean, I managed to fine peanut butter gelato making my flavor choice an easy one.
We had seen a ton of cute shops and markets around the city but we haven't really been in the mood/had the time to devote to shopping, believe it or not. In my day of guilty pleasures, I made my first Florentine purchases. I came home with a sweater poncho wrap, 2 snakeskin bracelets, and 5 pashmina scarves. It may not have been Gucci or Prada, but my purchases made my day. AND tonight I still have a lot to look forward to. We're headed over to an American restraunt for a burger and draft beer. Talk about containing my excitement. If only American football was on.
I don't know what I was thinking before heading here. I must've thought I was heading to a third word country without nail polish remover or Diet Coke. It may be 5 Euro for a "Coca-Cola Light", but the comforts of home indeed exist in this ancient city. Since the mosquitos have evacuated and we can open our huge windows, I'm not missing AC nearly as much these days with the temperatures down in the lower 80s. Tomorrow, we're headed on a train ride to Viareggio, the closest beach directly west of Florence, to soak up some end-of-season rays before hiking Cinque Terre on Saturday.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Laborious Start
My first day of classes started on Labor Day, a holiday which many Italians celebrate everyday and which my fellow Davidson students are forced to not observe. Before class, Keena, JD, Caroline, and I went to the fresh market as well as two different grocery stores to buy meats, cheese, bread, and other goodies for the week. Among other things, I came home with piave, cheddar, salami, a loaf of Toscana bread (for 1 Euro!). After a quiet lunch in our apartment, Caroline and I headed to Piazza Strozzi for our first Italian class. Everyone said that having taken Spanish in high school and college will help me in Italian and while many words are very similar, it can just add to my confusion. (However, I did start going off in Spanish the other night to some Italian man and convinced my fellow students on the program that I was fluent... thanks Davidson). I unfortunately had World Religions after Italian, a class that stretches for 2 and half long hours from 3-530 on Mondays. Makes for a long day.
After class, I went back to the boys' apartment and from there they escorted me to Via Faenza to grab Caroline for a double date of sorts. We ate a restaurant called ZaZa's. I went with my favorite, penne bolognese. We drank acqua, no gas, and ate the basket of bread without thinking twice. 2.50 for the water, 10 euro for the bread. No thank you.
The boys found that the supermercado across the street sells the cheapest Peroni beer by the case, so they each grabbed a box and lugged it across the city. The sight of these two Kappa Sigs carrying cases of beer as they passed by the Duomo must've just screamed "party" judging by the number of Italians that asked where we were headed. We had a quiet night at their place, listening, singing, and dancing to country music over a bottle of wine with my Southern friends. Later, we went for a walk and gelato across the ponte vecchio. Even on a Monday night, the city was bustling. In one of the piazzas, they were playing what I call "dancing music", inviting everyone to grab a partner and hit the dance floor. JD and I sprinted to the middle of the floor where we shagged to "Me and Mrs. Jones", by far the most energetic pair in the crowd.
Today, I THOUGHT I had Art History at 9 AM. I thought wrong. I got up and walked to class only to discover that I did not in fact have class. No big deal. A few hours of free time to do some reading never killed anyone. That is, IF I hadn't have left my purse in my apartment with my keys, phone, wallet. So, how does a 20 year old American girl fill her time with no money, no way to call to be let in, and no way to break into her apartment? She waits outside her door for an hour and a half until one of her roommates walks out. Productive. Needless to say, the locals must think I'm casing an apartment for a robbery. I've learned a valuable lesson early on in the semester. But, some time to myself for people watching didn't disturb my morning too terribly, as compared to an hour and a half of wasted time would have at Davidson. Accidental, it may have been, but forcing myself to take a break is sometimes just what everyone needs. Ciao!
After class, I went back to the boys' apartment and from there they escorted me to Via Faenza to grab Caroline for a double date of sorts. We ate a restaurant called ZaZa's. I went with my favorite, penne bolognese. We drank acqua, no gas, and ate the basket of bread without thinking twice. 2.50 for the water, 10 euro for the bread. No thank you.
The boys found that the supermercado across the street sells the cheapest Peroni beer by the case, so they each grabbed a box and lugged it across the city. The sight of these two Kappa Sigs carrying cases of beer as they passed by the Duomo must've just screamed "party" judging by the number of Italians that asked where we were headed. We had a quiet night at their place, listening, singing, and dancing to country music over a bottle of wine with my Southern friends. Later, we went for a walk and gelato across the ponte vecchio. Even on a Monday night, the city was bustling. In one of the piazzas, they were playing what I call "dancing music", inviting everyone to grab a partner and hit the dance floor. JD and I sprinted to the middle of the floor where we shagged to "Me and Mrs. Jones", by far the most energetic pair in the crowd.
Today, I THOUGHT I had Art History at 9 AM. I thought wrong. I got up and walked to class only to discover that I did not in fact have class. No big deal. A few hours of free time to do some reading never killed anyone. That is, IF I hadn't have left my purse in my apartment with my keys, phone, wallet. So, how does a 20 year old American girl fill her time with no money, no way to call to be let in, and no way to break into her apartment? She waits outside her door for an hour and a half until one of her roommates walks out. Productive. Needless to say, the locals must think I'm casing an apartment for a robbery. I've learned a valuable lesson early on in the semester. But, some time to myself for people watching didn't disturb my morning too terribly, as compared to an hour and a half of wasted time would have at Davidson. Accidental, it may have been, but forcing myself to take a break is sometimes just what everyone needs. Ciao!
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Karma
We spent Saturday in a traditional medieval Italian town called San Gimignano, famous for the best vino bianco, Vernaccia, in Tuscany, as well as promenent producers of saffron and olive oil. The town boasts structures from ancient civilizations like the Etruscans and the Romans a thousand years ago. In the middle ages, families displayed their political and economic power by the size of their homes. Once home to more than 70 medieval "skyscrapers", San Gimignano's skyline does not reflect its 1000 year old age. We toured the walled village and took a tour of an ancient cathedral that used paintings along the walls to tell stories in the New and Old Testament. Its hot in early September in Florence and our group of 13 Americans wore shorts and t-shirts or tanks for a long day of walking. We were given what I would call "modesty cloaks" to wear over our shoulders and our legs before we could walk into the Cathedral. Talk about embarrassing and obviously American. Even living in the Bible Belt of the American South, I still sometimes forget how conservative most parts of the world are.
We then took a hike through the tallest tower in San Gimignano. 219 steps later, we had a view from the political building that overlooked the vineyards and hills surrounding the village. The sky wasn't nearly as carolina blue as Thursday during our tour of Florence, but a clear day nonetheless. Not a great day to wear flipflops as we topped a ladder to reach the top, but I was glad I nixed the idea of wearing a skirt. We were rewarded for our exercise efforts with a 2 hour, 5 course lunch. We indulged in a bread soup, saffron risotto, ravioli, chicken and veggies, and tiramisu. Lulled into yet another food coma, Lucca and Milva took us for a wine tasting at the main winery in the village. We sampled 4 wines from San Gimignano vineyards to wrap up our day excursion.
We arrived back in Florence for a aperitif on the terrace of the Grand Hotel Minerva which offered a great nighttime view of the city. Our appetizers and drinks turned into dinner for most of us since we didn't finish up until about 10 PM. We grabbed a few bottles of wine and headed to the boys' apartment. We never made it to a bar or club, but Dugan and I managed to get lost, sit on the ponte vecchio and wait for JD to come on a search and rescue mission. Finishing the night with a Nutella sandwich, we crashed after another long and satisfying day.
After a wonderful skype session with Shelby at 11 this morning (5 AM Davidson time...) and a slow start to our day, we decided that we had had enough Italian culture and food for the week, so we wanted to connect to our roots and have a real American brunch. Karma sucks. We found the first American diner across town in Florence. Our food may've been American, but we were definitely on Italian time. Tempted by a cheeseburger, I stuck with an omelet and milkshake as to not stray too far from Italian cuisine. By the time we finished up (2 hours later), there was a torential downpour outside and we were a good distance from our apartment. After trying to be patient and wait it out, we lost our shoes and took off running, past the Duomo and the tourists seeking refuge under porches with their cameras, all the way to our apartment. Soaked.
I think we're going to have our first family pasta dinner tonight before classes start tomorrow. I am SO not in school mode. I am looking forward to a quiet evening with friends and an early bed time. Things here are really starting to feel normal. Once we have a normal schedule with school and such, I will definitely start feeling more comfortable. It really is like starting college again-- You've got to figure out all the new things about your location and lifestyle... and forget about navigating your way to class. Struggles.
We then took a hike through the tallest tower in San Gimignano. 219 steps later, we had a view from the political building that overlooked the vineyards and hills surrounding the village. The sky wasn't nearly as carolina blue as Thursday during our tour of Florence, but a clear day nonetheless. Not a great day to wear flipflops as we topped a ladder to reach the top, but I was glad I nixed the idea of wearing a skirt. We were rewarded for our exercise efforts with a 2 hour, 5 course lunch. We indulged in a bread soup, saffron risotto, ravioli, chicken and veggies, and tiramisu. Lulled into yet another food coma, Lucca and Milva took us for a wine tasting at the main winery in the village. We sampled 4 wines from San Gimignano vineyards to wrap up our day excursion.
We arrived back in Florence for a aperitif on the terrace of the Grand Hotel Minerva which offered a great nighttime view of the city. Our appetizers and drinks turned into dinner for most of us since we didn't finish up until about 10 PM. We grabbed a few bottles of wine and headed to the boys' apartment. We never made it to a bar or club, but Dugan and I managed to get lost, sit on the ponte vecchio and wait for JD to come on a search and rescue mission. Finishing the night with a Nutella sandwich, we crashed after another long and satisfying day.
After a wonderful skype session with Shelby at 11 this morning (5 AM Davidson time...) and a slow start to our day, we decided that we had had enough Italian culture and food for the week, so we wanted to connect to our roots and have a real American brunch. Karma sucks. We found the first American diner across town in Florence. Our food may've been American, but we were definitely on Italian time. Tempted by a cheeseburger, I stuck with an omelet and milkshake as to not stray too far from Italian cuisine. By the time we finished up (2 hours later), there was a torential downpour outside and we were a good distance from our apartment. After trying to be patient and wait it out, we lost our shoes and took off running, past the Duomo and the tourists seeking refuge under porches with their cameras, all the way to our apartment. Soaked.
I think we're going to have our first family pasta dinner tonight before classes start tomorrow. I am SO not in school mode. I am looking forward to a quiet evening with friends and an early bed time. Things here are really starting to feel normal. Once we have a normal schedule with school and such, I will definitely start feeling more comfortable. It really is like starting college again-- You've got to figure out all the new things about your location and lifestyle... and forget about navigating your way to class. Struggles.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Veni, vidi, vici
We've had a whirlwind first few days in Florence with a perfect combo of adjustment and exploration. Our welcome dinner on Wednesday night was delicious (not that I had expected anything different, but what they say about Italian food is right!) My family and friends can tell you, I'm ALWAYS the last one to finish eating at meals because of my double-edged love of chatting AND eating, so the pace of the meal really made it for me. I love when a meal takes 2 hours. It forces you to sit, enjoy, and communicate with the people around you, something us Americans aren't known for.
Thursday morning we took a tour of the fresh market that I can see from my window. We spent an hour walking and smelling and tasting what JD coined the "food porn of Florence" -- fresh veggies, fruit, fish, meat, cheese, pasta, and bread. YUM. Afterwards, we went back to LdM and took a cooking class from Milva, one of our Wells advisors. We prepared bruschetta, pesto pasta, and tiramisu for lunch. Another YUM. After we awoke from our food coma, a LdM history professor named Marcello took us on a 2 hour walking tour of Florence. Eye opening. Never will so many strokes of genius in a few short years happen as it did here in the beginning years of the renaissance. At the end of one block, Leoardo di Vinci painted the Mona Lisa as Michelangelo carved David. Literally, the same block. Now, a public high school occupies the space. Can you imagine??! I have plenty of touristy shots that I can't wait to load and share from the day.
Last night was our first true night out on the town in Firenze where the Connor girls happily endulged in a European court party. From becoming best friends with the bartender to my terrible luck with shoes breaking to 3 AM pictures in front of the Duomo, we all made it home safe and sound last night.... we just woke up with 3 hours of sleep and headaches this morning. WHICH made orientation today all the more painful.
Florence is a small city, all well within walking distance unless you are Caroline and me who get lost for hours (yes, hours) in wedges. I'm talking bigger blisters than you can imagine. Milva commented that the many hours of walking and thousands of stairs are the reasons that Italians are so skinny while eating pasta and drinking wine. I like that diet plan. Italy made be comprised of Medieval buildings and cobblestone streets, but they DO have spas for mani/pedis. Ahh, the amenities of home. Necessary amenities in our case.
Tomorrow we head to a small medieval town in Tuscany between Florence and Siena called San Gimignano followed by an aperitif (appetizers and drinks) on a terrace back in Florence. Should be another long and full day, but we're loving every minute.
I'm in a weird place between thrilled and excited and missing familiar and comfortable people and places. When we're out and busy, I'm a girl in my element, but when things are difficult (our phone situation, the gargantuan mosquitos and consequently the bites, or the separation from family and friends), I do miss the US. I haven't even teared up yet because I truly am on sensory overload still, but during quiet times, I miss Lincolnton football, Connor girls, fried chicken, Lily Pulitzer and pastels... but I DO love this and I will continue to embrace Florence for the next 14 weeks. I've said this a thousand times, but when else in my life can I live in Europe without a house payment, car payment, job, spouse, or children for 6 months? Not until after Med school, that's for sure. Until then, Firenze is our playground.
Thursday morning we took a tour of the fresh market that I can see from my window. We spent an hour walking and smelling and tasting what JD coined the "food porn of Florence" -- fresh veggies, fruit, fish, meat, cheese, pasta, and bread. YUM. Afterwards, we went back to LdM and took a cooking class from Milva, one of our Wells advisors. We prepared bruschetta, pesto pasta, and tiramisu for lunch. Another YUM. After we awoke from our food coma, a LdM history professor named Marcello took us on a 2 hour walking tour of Florence. Eye opening. Never will so many strokes of genius in a few short years happen as it did here in the beginning years of the renaissance. At the end of one block, Leoardo di Vinci painted the Mona Lisa as Michelangelo carved David. Literally, the same block. Now, a public high school occupies the space. Can you imagine??! I have plenty of touristy shots that I can't wait to load and share from the day.
Last night was our first true night out on the town in Firenze where the Connor girls happily endulged in a European court party. From becoming best friends with the bartender to my terrible luck with shoes breaking to 3 AM pictures in front of the Duomo, we all made it home safe and sound last night.... we just woke up with 3 hours of sleep and headaches this morning. WHICH made orientation today all the more painful.
Florence is a small city, all well within walking distance unless you are Caroline and me who get lost for hours (yes, hours) in wedges. I'm talking bigger blisters than you can imagine. Milva commented that the many hours of walking and thousands of stairs are the reasons that Italians are so skinny while eating pasta and drinking wine. I like that diet plan. Italy made be comprised of Medieval buildings and cobblestone streets, but they DO have spas for mani/pedis. Ahh, the amenities of home. Necessary amenities in our case.
Tomorrow we head to a small medieval town in Tuscany between Florence and Siena called San Gimignano followed by an aperitif (appetizers and drinks) on a terrace back in Florence. Should be another long and full day, but we're loving every minute.
I'm in a weird place between thrilled and excited and missing familiar and comfortable people and places. When we're out and busy, I'm a girl in my element, but when things are difficult (our phone situation, the gargantuan mosquitos and consequently the bites, or the separation from family and friends), I do miss the US. I haven't even teared up yet because I truly am on sensory overload still, but during quiet times, I miss Lincolnton football, Connor girls, fried chicken, Lily Pulitzer and pastels... but I DO love this and I will continue to embrace Florence for the next 14 weeks. I've said this a thousand times, but when else in my life can I live in Europe without a house payment, car payment, job, spouse, or children for 6 months? Not until after Med school, that's for sure. Until then, Firenze is our playground.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
1 kg to go
After an additional day in New York with James' parents full of James' funniest and wittiest childhood stories (of course I ate that shit up, squeezing every ounce of his kwirky and loveable childhood stories just in case I needed some amo one day), Errol dropped me off at the Newark airport Tuesday afternoon to finally embark in my trip to Florence. My check-in/check bags process went seamlessly and I even had an entire kilogram to spare on my checked bag (see Mom). The only hiccup in the airport came in security where an Indian TSA officer tried to convince me that my carry on was too large. While this may have been true, I smiled and shook my head, as confused as possible by his dialect. He finally got frustrated with me and let me pass through. You never know what a good set of braces can do for you.
Our flight from Rome got redirected to Pisa because of the backup the hurricane caused, so our day of traveling extended longer than originally expected. 8 hours of flying followed by a 2 hour layover followed by another 1 hour flight followed by a 1 hour bus ride really adds up, but the excitement of the group as we approached Florence made a huge difference. I watched "Water for Elephants" on the plane (not recommended, I hear the book is much better) but didn't get much sleep on the plane. So, at 4:35 PM, Florence time, a full 20 hours since I left the US, I'm running on empty.
Getting to our HUGE apartment on Via Faenza really improved my morale. Our apartment is in the middle of the city, just 5 doors down from our school. So much for walking off those pasta calories. In our 4 bedroom, 2 bath apartment, Caroline and I are sharing a double with huge windows above our desks that open up to the street. 4 stories up, the sounds of the city swell upwards as I sit here now. The breeze makes it just about perfect.
I'm trying to make it to tonight on maybe 2 hours of sleep in 2 days with no nap. Caroline is konked out as we speak, but we have a dinner planned at 7:30 at Obikà, which is a very nice restaurant in the middle of Florence and I NEED a shower. Travelling doesn't make for nice hygiene.
I look forward to my first Florentine meal and first night of either going out or a quiet night with friends. My semester in Florence is finally underway. And to all of you who haven't been to Italy lately, no fears. The cars are still small, the men still dress metro, and the city still looks the way it has for the last century. Its amazing what change can happen in a century in the US where a place like Italy can stay so stagnant. Stagnant, II use in a positive form. More like comfortable, you always know what you're going to get or what to expect. AND they'll even explain it in English for you. Florence, like the South, as a slower pace of life clustered around family, friends, food, and football (maybe just a different kind). I'll keep the comparisons coming. Ciao!
Our flight from Rome got redirected to Pisa because of the backup the hurricane caused, so our day of traveling extended longer than originally expected. 8 hours of flying followed by a 2 hour layover followed by another 1 hour flight followed by a 1 hour bus ride really adds up, but the excitement of the group as we approached Florence made a huge difference. I watched "Water for Elephants" on the plane (not recommended, I hear the book is much better) but didn't get much sleep on the plane. So, at 4:35 PM, Florence time, a full 20 hours since I left the US, I'm running on empty.
Getting to our HUGE apartment on Via Faenza really improved my morale. Our apartment is in the middle of the city, just 5 doors down from our school. So much for walking off those pasta calories. In our 4 bedroom, 2 bath apartment, Caroline and I are sharing a double with huge windows above our desks that open up to the street. 4 stories up, the sounds of the city swell upwards as I sit here now. The breeze makes it just about perfect.
I'm trying to make it to tonight on maybe 2 hours of sleep in 2 days with no nap. Caroline is konked out as we speak, but we have a dinner planned at 7:30 at Obikà, which is a very nice restaurant in the middle of Florence and I NEED a shower. Travelling doesn't make for nice hygiene.
I look forward to my first Florentine meal and first night of either going out or a quiet night with friends. My semester in Florence is finally underway. And to all of you who haven't been to Italy lately, no fears. The cars are still small, the men still dress metro, and the city still looks the way it has for the last century. Its amazing what change can happen in a century in the US where a place like Italy can stay so stagnant. Stagnant, II use in a positive form. More like comfortable, you always know what you're going to get or what to expect. AND they'll even explain it in English for you. Florence, like the South, as a slower pace of life clustered around family, friends, food, and football (maybe just a different kind). I'll keep the comparisons coming. Ciao!
Friday, August 26, 2011
See ya neva, NC
Well, Irene didn't hurry up and c'mon, so Alitalia cancelled our flight for Sunday night to Florence. So, we're rebooked for Tuesday, which leaves me in NY for a weekend with James and the Frankels to brace ourselves for what NBC has dubbed the "storm of the century" to hit the East Coast. JFK is already closed. Subways too. And I thought the Italian way of life was an easy one?
For my parents, the goodbye tomorrow morning isn't any easier even with my delayed departure from the country. My Mom would love the extra days to review safety tips and tour suggestions. We spent my last night in Lincolnton at the Wolves football game where our #2 ranked team fought a valiant effort in an early season game. The realization that I wouldn't be coming home for any playoff games (or even listening online, since I would be tuning in at 3 AM my time for a Wolves win), made the evening bittersweet. Nothing beats a night in the southern football town, a City Lunch hotdog, and a high school band playing the national anthem -- A night that makes me miss the US already. I'm such a sucker for a patriotic pastime. (This would be an appropriate time to pull in the America party quote, girls. I'll still fight for America until the day that I die. Even in Italy.)
As I looked around the new "reserved seat section" tonight, I realized how in my element I am when I'm at home: I was surrounded by some of the most important, influential, and supportive friends that are a part of my life. I'm comfortable at home. I'm good at being home. And I'm getting ready to hop on a plane to cross the Mason-Dixon (then the Atlantic in a few). A new location, new people, new culture and new language -- way to really throw a girl out of her comfort zone.
See you at Christmas, Lincolnton. Bring it on Irene. I wait for you in the New York.
For my parents, the goodbye tomorrow morning isn't any easier even with my delayed departure from the country. My Mom would love the extra days to review safety tips and tour suggestions. We spent my last night in Lincolnton at the Wolves football game where our #2 ranked team fought a valiant effort in an early season game. The realization that I wouldn't be coming home for any playoff games (or even listening online, since I would be tuning in at 3 AM my time for a Wolves win), made the evening bittersweet. Nothing beats a night in the southern football town, a City Lunch hotdog, and a high school band playing the national anthem -- A night that makes me miss the US already. I'm such a sucker for a patriotic pastime. (This would be an appropriate time to pull in the America party quote, girls. I'll still fight for America until the day that I die. Even in Italy.)
As I looked around the new "reserved seat section" tonight, I realized how in my element I am when I'm at home: I was surrounded by some of the most important, influential, and supportive friends that are a part of my life. I'm comfortable at home. I'm good at being home. And I'm getting ready to hop on a plane to cross the Mason-Dixon (then the Atlantic in a few). A new location, new people, new culture and new language -- way to really throw a girl out of her comfort zone.
See you at Christmas, Lincolnton. Bring it on Irene. I wait for you in the New York.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Come on Irene
Hi Bloggees! Inspired by my cool friends that travelled to places like Shanghai and Cambridge this summer, I'm gearing up my blog (and my closet) for a semester in Florence, Italy. I hope to keep family and friends that are both stateside and abroad up-to-date on my outings, tours, adventures, and life observations as I tour wine country and the whole of Europe.
As soon as I chose to study abroad in Florence this semester, I was barraged with both enthusiasm and questions. Why would an English major that wants to go to medical school pack her bags for a semester in Florence? Davidson's liberal arts requirements offer a nice excuse: I have Fine Arts and Religion requirements to fulfill and where else better in the world to study art and religion than in the birthplace of the renaissance! More than that though, I may be a Southern girl through and through with my pearls and pastels, but my roots are in Tuscany where my Great-Grandma Mucey hopped onto the boat to cross the pond to the land of opportunity about 90 years ago. This semester will offer an opportunity to taste my way through some of the best Mediterranean cuisine and architecture, just like my family did 90 years ago.
This small town girl hits Europe on Sunday... the same day at Hurricane Irene is predicted to hit the eastern seaboard. A new take on my Dad's 1983 Fraternity song, please, come on Irene, so I can say ciao to Amurrica and my Mother can keep her sanity.
As soon as I chose to study abroad in Florence this semester, I was barraged with both enthusiasm and questions. Why would an English major that wants to go to medical school pack her bags for a semester in Florence? Davidson's liberal arts requirements offer a nice excuse: I have Fine Arts and Religion requirements to fulfill and where else better in the world to study art and religion than in the birthplace of the renaissance! More than that though, I may be a Southern girl through and through with my pearls and pastels, but my roots are in Tuscany where my Great-Grandma Mucey hopped onto the boat to cross the pond to the land of opportunity about 90 years ago. This semester will offer an opportunity to taste my way through some of the best Mediterranean cuisine and architecture, just like my family did 90 years ago.
This small town girl hits Europe on Sunday... the same day at Hurricane Irene is predicted to hit the eastern seaboard. A new take on my Dad's 1983 Fraternity song, please, come on Irene, so I can say ciao to Amurrica and my Mother can keep her sanity.
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