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!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)