On the Road Again

Dear Readers,

It is official. My only remaining adventure is the one that will bring me home. In a mere ten days I will bid farewell to my beloved boot and return to the land of watery coffee and open-toed shoes. In the meantime, I have a rather elementary week of exams, papers and final projects. I know you tease me relentlessly about the very strenuous classes I am taking; wine and culture, art restoration, studio art classes. Well, I am not afraid to admit that I stifled a laugh when I encountered the section about "critical thinking" and "intellectual sophistication" on my class evaluation. While it might be true that I was not extremely challenged this semester (academically), the lessons I have learned about culture, adaptation, language, tolerance and how to avoid creepy men are invaluable. However, I am getting ahead of myself...

First I must tell you about my final trip to Lake Como and Switzerland this past weekend! As usual we embarked upon our journey at 6AM and arrived in Como, Italy several sleepy hours later. It was Riley's 21st birthday, so Sheila and I devised a plan to give her 21 small gifts throughout the day. Some of these gifts included things like a rubber eyeball that squirts, silly pictures and mini bottles of wine with screw-tops. It was a very successful afternoon, and the weather in Como was beautiful! It felt like a day in late June, and almost reminded me of a beautiful lake town somewhere in Maine.

The next part of the journey begins in Switzerland. We arrived at our hotel in the evening and ate our mass-produced tourist meal. In case you don't know what this means- ambiguous poultry and french fries. Afterward, I collapsed into the most comfortable hotel bed I have ever experienced. Oohhhh that down comforter....

The next morning I somehow woke up in winter-time. It was very cold, cloudy and rainy, but we took a walking tour around St. Moritz anyways. St. Moritz is a beautiful mountaintop resort town, famous for their winter sports. Since it was the off-season, it was basically a ghost town, but I did manage to find some swiss chocolates! Next we boarded a train that looked vaguely like the Hogwart's Express, and spent three hours traveling through the most beautiful landscape I think I have ever seen. There was snow everywhere, and I felt like we were on our way to the north pole. I have pictures that I will be posting later, even though they do not even come close to doing justice to the beauty of Switzerland!

Today is a holiday in Italy, and I don't have class! Therefore I must get back to my very extensive to-do list. I shall be posting pictures soon!!!

The Torrents of Spring

I typically only fill you in on the more notable moments of my life in Florence; traveling and experiencing extreme highs and lows. Today I find myself sitting lazily on my bed as rain clouds roll in, and I might as well fill in some holes...

This weekend has been very slow and lazy for me. I can partially blame it on being sick (for the fourth time), and partially on the abysmal weather. However, if I am being truthful I will tell you that I really needed a low-key weekend. I have so much on my mind lately, and needed a few days to let my mind percolate. Before coming to Italy I told myself that I needed to tackle one huge life-changing experience at a time or else I would drive myself crazy. Therefore I focused all of my energy on ITALY. Now I've climbed that mountain and it is nearly time to return to base-camp. This means I will need to reevaluate the tools I have acquired and those I will need to set out on my next journey. "The next journey" in this scenario is also known as "What the hell am I going to do when I graduate college next year?"

This looming question, much like the constant April rain here in Florence, has been tormenting me. After living abroad for several months, I find myself reevaluating the details of my postgraduate plans. Isn't going abroad supposed to make you more equipped to make giant life decisions? Of course I have no way of deciding anything yet, but I find myself conjuring up so many questions that past Holly had not considered. For example...graduate school in Scotland? I think it is best that I change the subject before I hyperventilate...

Interesting stories from lately...

1. Dinner with my host-grandparents. This evening occurred several weekends ago, or whenever Easter happened. My host-parents and the kids return from a long weekend at their beach-house, and since it is late, we all go over to Grandma's (Nonna) house for dinner. I adore Nonna and Nonno, and marvel at how perfectly they fulfill my expectations of what Italian grandparents should be. Nonna is warm and welcoming, and loves to spoil her grandsons. Niccò and Luca sit in their "thrones" at the dinner table and Nonna enthusiastically tries to please them with special kid food and kisses. Nonno is pretty absorbed in his soccer game, which plays in the background as we eat dinner. Stephanie and I have a hilarious moment trying to explain what groundhog's day is. Luckily Veronica is there to provide some translation when the struggling is too much.
 
I experience an interesting moment of horror and amazement when Niccò, who is normally quite a picky eater, gladly pops some squishy fish eyeballs into his mouth. This is followed by an equally enthusiastic consumption of the squishy fish brains. I try to pretend it is just ramen noodles...Even though I am sure my face reveals my disgust, I try to remain open. It's okay that some people might enjoy certain fish organs, as long as I don't have to participate. Luckily Nonna brings out a whole different meal for the "adults," and nothing involves fish. The food is delicious of course, but I am forced to MANGIA MANGIA! Even my protests of Grazie, ma sono piena(thanks, but I am full) fall on deaf ears, and I manage to pack everything in. After I finally escape from the table, I join Nonno around the TV to watch a partita di calcio (soccer game), and he offers me some casual Tuesday night whiskey. On my way out the door, ten pounds heavier than I was when I arrived, Nonna shoves a large handful of chocolate eggs in my hands, "for the walk."

Overall it was a very interesting and enjoyable evening, and I felt myself taking mental anthropological field-notes the whole time. This is the reason why I came to Italy in the first place; to expose myself to such a drastically different lifestyle, and develop relationships with people that live in such a different way than I am used to. After experiencing some pretty intense homesickness in recent weeks, this was exactly what I needed. I needed a reminder of why I am here, and what I am getting to experience. Once again I am made aware of how truly lucky I am to be here!

Under the Volcano

This weekend I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to travel to Naples, Sorrento, Pompeii and Capri. This trip was led by LdM and paid for  by St. Lawrence, for which I am very grateful! Lately it has been extremely rainy and everyone I know(especially me) has been getting homesick. My weekend trip was exactly what I needed to pull me out of my rut.

After a 6AM departure from Florence, we arrived in Naples around midday. First stop: pizza. Naples pizza is legendary, and after a very long bus-ride we were all ravenous. One of the things I love about Italy is that it is more than acceptable to eat an entire pizza on your own. However, Italian pizza is not like anything I have ever tasted in America. The dough is extremely thin, but the perfect combination of soft and crispy. There are NEVER disgusting pools of grease that run down your hands. Everything is fresh and simple, but delicious and amazing!

Saturday afternoon was spent touring the archaeological site at ancient Pompeii. As an anthropologist, you can probably imagine my excitement. I have dreamed of seeing the ruins of Pompeii since I learned about the eruption of Vesuvius in middle school. Now I can add that to the list of lifelong dreams fulfilled! The weather was absolutely terrible, but I was completely okay with it. It was pouring rain for most of the day, but that also meant that there were not very many tourists at the site. I was on an anthropology high that could not be dampened by any amount of rain. My favorite things at pompeii were the remains of the fresco paintings, ancient bathhouses and the disturbing/fascinating plaster-casts of the victims of the 79AD eruption. I learned that it was actually extreme heat from the volcano that killed the people of Pompeii rather than suffocation from volcanic ash. The city was not discovered until the late 1500s, and not properly excavated for several hundred additional years. Archaeologists discovered cavities underneath layers of stone and volcanic ash that contained perfect imprints in the exact position in which people died. Bodies were buried, and after time everything but the bones would decompose and leave a cavity. They poured plaster into these cavities and excavated them to reveal very life-like figures that make Pompeii horrifyingly real. 

At the amphitheater 

ancient frescoes! 

On a lighter note, one of the best things about this trip was Sheila's umbrella. She found this little black umbrella abandoned by its previous owner in her bedroom at her host-house. As the trip progressed, the pathetic and broken umbrella become more and more destroyed. I cannot describe to you the amount of laughs that resulted from that abysmal excuse for an umbrella. By the time we got to Capri, the wind and rain had just about finished the poor thing. The handle even broke off, and Sheila considered fashioning it into a hat. We joked about tying it to a stick, and then the perfect stick-specimen fell out of the sky, as if fate was also laughing at us. For one last laugh we did actually mount the remains of the umbrella onto that stick, and Sheila confidently walked through the main streets of Capri. I cannot remember ever laughing harder at anything in my life. SO STUPID but SO AMUSING!

This was me during the entire trip-Sheila in the background with her...um-brella?

Me and Riley cuddling under my umbrella!

thanks to my host dad for lending me a rain-coat that was big enough to house me, my bag and my camera!

Another highlight of the adventure was the ferry ride from Sorrento to the island of Capri. The weather was becoming more and more temperamental as we set sail. Half of the sky was a menacing black and the other was a beautiful blue. It was beginning to rain as we boarded the ship, so everyone sat below-deck for shelter. Sheila, Riley and I(because we weren't scared) sat up on top of the deck. We weren't going to let some rain stop us from enjoying the view of the coast. Once we got out onto the open sea, the waves grew in size and force. I have NEVER seen waves so large or terrifying. I was quite literally holding on for dear life. It was hilarious and exhilarating to be thrown about on the sea, and I admit I was thinking about what happened to that other cruise ship off the coast of Italy...

A menacing sky

Windblown!

I think Sorrento and Capri are coming in first on my list of beautiful places I have seen during my travels (even with mostly terrible weather). I did get some fantastic shots when the sky cleared a bit! 

During the boat-tour around the island!

Such a wonderful weekend! I am so grateful I got to see so many beautiful places! My last trip is to Switzerland and Como Lake in northern Italy on April 28-29! I am so lucky!

I will bring back chocolate.

Of Mosquitos and Men

Mosquitos and men; two vastly different creatures. Yet I find there are more than a few commonalities between them. I came to this realization one night last week when I made the mistake of neglecting my earplugs. I have grown accustomed to wearing them to bed so I do not wake up to the sound of cranky children. Also, when sleeping in such small quarters it is beneficial to create a soundless bubble for oneself.

Anyways, on this particular night I found myself alone in a quiet house, so the soundless bubble was already in place. I am slowly drifting off to sleep when suddenly the unmistakable sound of a hungry mosquito jolts me back to consciousness...

Now this is not the first time my roommate and I have been tormented by sneaky Italian mosquitos. I often wake up with welts on my arms, hands or legs. I am of the opinion that they have a club house somewhere above our closet, and only come out at night when the coast is clear. Much like the typical Italian man, these mosquitos attack you only at the most inconvenient times.

These Italian Super-bugs, like men, are hungry for exposed flesh, and if you look them in the eye it is an open invitation to be violated. Also, they strive to find you at your most vulnerable moment. In this case, sleeping with exposed legs and arms. To make matters worse, nights can be very hot sometimes. One has to make the choice between being uncomfortably hot, covered in blankets and protected, or cool and conformable but very exposed to an attack. I also believe that because I am not Italian, my blood must be a novelty for them. Blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls are a delicacy not just for the male population, but also the Super-bug.

On this particular night, I was not about to let myself be feasted upon, because sometimes you are just NOT in the mood! I quickly turned on my bedside light and threw on my glasses to try and detect the invader. For several minutes I surveyed the room and found nothing, because the Super-bug is shrewd and skilled. I then thought I saw a bug-like speck on the ceiling, which of course I could not reach because Italians like to build upward. I used my pillow and started wildly throwing it at the ceiling, trying to displace the Super-bug. Eventually I realized it actually was just a harmless speck of unknown origin, and gave up. Meanwhile, the Super-bug was formulating a counter-attack...

At this point it was growing late, and I decided to just go to sleep and hope for the best. Of course, as soon as I turned out the light, the Super-bug launched his attack. I sprang out of bed again and by the time the lights were back on, he had disappeared. This time I decided to use myself as bait and waited for him to come to me. I tried all of the usual strategies...I flirted with other bugs and pretended I didn't care if he came back or not. I seductively rubbed my neck, flipped my hair and threw my pheromones around a bit. As predicted, the Super-bug couldn't stand it and came out of hiding. This time I was ready and pinned him to the wall. I had some difficulty finding his body and wasn't sure if my hit was successful. The problem was...I could not get the buzzing out of my head! I was for sure going crazy at this point, because I do not like to play games with men or mosquitos. I am frantically trying to detect the source of the noise, and eventually open the bedroom door and realize the humming is coming from some appliance...

By now it was very late, and I waved my white flag at the enemy and climbed back into bed. This time I put in my earplugs to drown out the sound of any attackers. This is much like the strategy I employ on my way to school in the morning. I put in my headphones and drown out the sound of the larger version of the Italian Super-man-bug that can be found at all hours of the day and night. If I don't hear you then you do not exist.

In the end I realized that I have to accept that I will take hits everyday. Whether it is in the streets or in my infested room, I will end up with either damaged skin or a damaged ego. By this point I can deal with some wounds, and it always feels good when I get to kill a bug every once in awhile.

A Tale of Two Cities. Part Two: London and such

Part two of my story begins with me rediscovering how to speak English. I had not realized how accustomed to speaking Italian that I had become! On the plane I accidentally requested a cup of tea in Italian instead of English. It was odd, but I felt as though I could actually feel my brain switching gears and reverting back to my roots. The flight was beautiful, and I was delighted to see the snowy mountaintops and glistening coastline. At this point I was full of energy, and ready to tackle London. I was also happy to discover how seamlessly I seemed to get myself all the way from my hostel in Venice to Chelsea's front door in London. Mind you, this requires just about every mode of transportation imaginable; foot, water-bus, normal bus, plane, train and the metro (or as the Brits say- the tube). When I arrived at the correct place near Chelsea's apartment, I settled down on a stoop to read my 1-euro copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, and I waited. I was distracted by the red English phone booths, fair-skinned inhabitants and backwards traffic. After spending months in Italy, it was so strange to be in a place where I actually blended in. It was quite a shock and relief to be left alone by the men, and to for once feel inconspicuous. Soon I was happily reunited with Chelsea.

For my first night in London, Chelsea and I went to see Sweeny Todd in the theater district. It was a wonderful show, and I was excited to see Imelda Staunton play Mrs. Lovett. She is the brilliant British actress that played Dolores Umbridge in the Harry Potter movies. I also got to eat Indian food for dinner, which was a nice change of pace. Don't get me wrong, I adore Italian food, but it was nice to try something different. 

Brick Lane street art

The next day we wandered around Brick Lane, and I was intrigued by the many thrift shops, oddities and street art. I felt as though I had stepped into a bubble that was probably what Brooklyn in the 90's must have been like. Later that night I went with Chelsea and her flatmates to see a student performance of As you like it, which is a Shakespeare comedy. I don't know much about acting, but I thought the students did a fabulous job, and I was thoroughly impressed! Afterward I experienced my first English cider; a popular British beverage. I thought it almost tasted like a fruity, sparkling wine, and I quite liked it. 

On Friday morning I tagged along on a trip to the English countryside with Chelsea and her fellow Ithacans. I admit, I was sad to leave London after only just arriving, but was eager to see the country as well. After about an hour and a half bus ride through rolling hills and sheep pastures we arrived at the castle in Warwick. They have turned the site into a tourist attraction, but I liked it anyways. They had a peacock garden, a dungeon, and very interesting tour through the interior of the castle. It was very interesting to think about the things that once took place in medieval times. As the day wore on, I started to feel rather sick and nauseous, but tried to carry on as normal. However, as soon as we boarded the bus to go to Stratford, I knew I was in dangerous waters. 

Warwick Castle

Add caption

Last picture before I died

Shortly after the bus began moving I was forced to stop the bus, run off into the bushes and re-experience my "full English breakfast."I felt significantly better afterward, and re-boarded the bus. Onward we went, to our bed and breakfast in Stratford, my health becoming more and more miserable every minute. As soon as we arrived, I quite literally ran to the bathroom, and well...I shall spare you the details. Clearly my questionable English breakfast was not sitting well, and wanted out. The next 8 hours were a veritable hell to be quite honest. During my time in Stratford, I became well acquainted with that bathroom floor, which luckily was spotless and accommodating. At one point I peeled my face off the floor for a moment and took in my surroundings for the first time. I honestly could not think of a better place to be on my death-bed. The beds were comfortable and clean, and everything was very pristine and Englishy. I however, was not very pristine. I eventually gathered the strength to go downstairs and introduce myself to the woman who owned the b&b, and perhaps see if she had any ginger-ale. She was the sweetest woman alive, and touched my face like a gentle grandmother and said (in a delightful accent) "you poor dear, you look so pale." I learned that the name of the b&b was coincidentally The Hollies. She told me that when she was my age she discovered she could not have children, and got a dog, which she named Holly. Such a sad story from such a lovely woman, and she gave me some soda water and sent me back to my bathroom floor. 

In the end, my time in London was not as I had hoped. However, I do not blame London itself. I blame its breakfast mostly...The rest of the trip was slow and sluggish, and my body just wanted to be in a bed. My body also wanted desperately to see The Hunger Games, which came out while we were in the countryside. I don't know if you are familiar with The Hunger Games, but I can tell you I read the first of the three books in one day over Christmas break and have been waiting impatiently for the movie release. Alas, I must now wait until my return to the states to see it, which is quite tragic indeed. I hope someday to return to London and actually see the city in its entirety. If I do return though, I will never be able to look upon a full English breakfast with anything but pure loathing. 

A Tale of Two Cities. Part One: Venice

On March 16th (Last Friday) I arrived in Venice with my favorite blonde travel companion, Kelly. The journey went pretty smoothly aside from an awkward walk through 4 cars of moving train. However, when we finally found our real seats, we were delighted to discover an entire compartment just for us! This is when the literary references started flowing...namely Harry Potter ones of course! "Why Kelly, I think it's about time we changed into our robes. We'll be arriving at Hogwarts soon!"

I have also decided that Venice has healing properties. I embarked upon my journey with a very obnoxious cough, but was soon cured by the sea air and magical atmosphere. For the first day we simply wandered the streets, marveling at the magnificent amount of detail contained in every inch of the city. On every windowsill perches a window-box with fresh flowers, or a stone gargoyle peering out at you. Even the simplest of streets are filled with intricate stonework and lion-headed door knockers. Kelly and I share a sense of wonderment and creativity, so we were perfectly content to get lost in the winding streets and canal-side corners. 

The next several days were spent sitting on docks, drinking wine and eating chocolate while writing, reading or sketching. Venice is the perfect place to indulge one's geeky nature, which is probably why I felt so at home. The dialogue exchanged between me and Kelly during our time in Venice consisted mainly of literary references, fantastical nonsense and Italian. 

On our second day we decided to catch a water-bus to the two Venetian islands of Burano and Murano. Burano is famous for two things: easter-egg colored houses and lace-manufacture. I fell in love with this little island and its eccentric color palette. Kelly and I spent a glorious afternoon eating oranges, kiwis, chocolate and drinking a bottle of white wine while sitting on the canal. We created scenarios in which we grow old in Venice. I shall paint and draw portraits while Kelly writes enthralling and fantastical stories. We will live in a terra-cotta colored house with a sea-horse wind-chime, and not one piece of furniture or dish in the cupboard will be the same. We will also have a little dog and a boat, and many attractive and not at all creepy Italian men to choose from! 

A blissful lunch

My future retirement home!

Murano was also lovely, but my most prominent memory is of Kelly and I accidentally buying cappuccinos for 4 euro....each! We foolishly did not think to check the price before we stopped in for a quick caffeine fix. After we enjoyed our perfectly ordinary beverages, we went to the counter to pay, and the man said quattro euro! To which we thought...ehhh okay. Then he had the nerve to say that we were EACH meant to pay quattro euro. After we were done shitting bricks we slapped our coins on the counter and sulked out of the establishment. Henceforth, we will ALWAYS remember to overestimate the price of coffee in unfamiliar places. In the end it turned out to be a hilarious joke, and throughout the remainder of the trip we would often break a silent moment with a vengeful cry to the Venetian gods for that four euro coffee.

The beverage in question...

One of my favorite afternoons in Venice was spent in San Marco Square. Kelly and I were drawn in by a group of minstrels and a very vigorous violinist that were serenading the crowd in the piazza. We (being the vagabonds we are) decided it was okay for us to just sit in the very center of the huge square. There is nowhere to sit unless you want to commit to ordering something at an actual restaurant. And really, what crazy person would ever spend 4 euro on one cappuccino?! Strangely enough, this questionable seating arrangement caught fire, and soon there were people plopping down all around us! At this time we were busy filling our journals and reading our books, which is apparently a very scenic thing for two little blonde girls to be doing. Frequently during the entire trip, in situations like this, we would catch random passersby taking a photo of the pair of us. We eventually decided that we should charge a fee to either the individual photographers or the city of Venice itself for the services we were providing. I swear though, Venice is the kind of city that would inspire even the most lackluster individual to whip out a journal and jot down a creative thought or maybe let slip a Harry Potter reference. Speaking as someone that does both of these things on a regular basis, you can see how I may have gotten carried away. 

A popular mode of transportation in Venice

Ultimately we were forced to leave Venice; a true tragedy to be sure. Perhaps the sheer absurdity and horror of ever leaving a city of such magic and wonder literally made Kelly sick. In all seriousness though, our exit from Venice was anything but graceful. Povera Kelly, and her mystery sickness, throwing her suitcase down the Rialto steps, will forever live in my memory. Eventually we figured out how to get ourselves to the airport, after a water-bus and a regular bus. Two things one does not want to experience while sick, but I shall leave Kelly to tell her own tale. In the end we parted tearfully at the Marco Polo airport, and I made my way to London, while Kelly set out for Scotland in search on Nessie.

Stay tuned for part II!

Oh that hat...(it is Kelly's, but we shared)

A note to my followers

My sincerest apologies for being off the grid for the past several weeks. You see, first I had exam week, which was altogether unexciting and unworthy of a blog entry. Secondly, I spend ten days in Venice and then London, both of which deserve an entire novel of description. However, I have returned to Florence at last, and will try to make up for lost time. Please stay tuned for a two-part tale of my adventures in two exceedingly different cities...