July 29, 2007
We went to Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park today, where anyone can stand up on a soapbox and say anything they want to (they just can't insult the Queen). Only the stupid ever have something to say, apparently, because I listened to two men argue about the American constitution--of which neither of them knew anything, and the Americans in the crowd were laughing at their ridiculousness--and another man's agenda listed that he would argue that "equal pay for women is a fantasy" (WHAT?!) and "anything you want to argue, no matter how stupid--I can still beat you." Yes, sir, I'm sure you can. Can we just lock them all in a room together and let them duke it out, because we sure don't need to hear them!
I'm about to head to the London Eye for my final night in London, but I wanted to say this is probably my last post, unless I can grab a computer in Edinburgh or something. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you back in the States!
domenica 29 luglio 2007
Strawberries and Clotted Cream
July 28, 2007
We headed to Bath today, a refuge for the ill and a party for the fashionable for centuries. Starbucks got me through most of the morning, though I dozed for a large part of the bus ride. We pulled up just outside Bath Abbey about two hours later, where we listened to street violinists before heading into the Roman Baths.
The Celts had noticed something funny about the water around what is now Bath about 7,500 years ago--it smelled weird, looked weird, and was incredibly hot (try about 95 degrees F). They believed it was the site of Sulis, one of their goddesses, and they revered the place as sacred grounds. The coming of the Romans brought greater fame, and they built a bath over the site where the sick could be healed by their goddess, Sulis-Minerva. The place remained a site of healing until the Victorian period, when monarchs began visiting it for relaxation. Bath quickly grew in fame as a fashionable hang-out, and it's remained that way ever since.
The Roman Baths were lovely, and we saw the original bath built by the Romans, the water all green from the sulfur and the steps covered in algae. We wandered through the beautiful ruins while listening to our audioguides (narrated by Bill Bryson, of all people!), and the group finally split up for some much-needed lunch. Tricia and I had a wonderful lunch in the historic pump rooms and we tried the Spa water, which was hot and disgusting and I felt very cultured doing it.
We next saw Bath Abbey, with its beautiful fan vaulting and wonderful gravestones covering the walls. The day was absolutely beautiful, so we wandered through some open-air markets, sampling teas and cheeses and just admiring the city. We met up with some other Meredith Students at the Jane Austen Centre, where everyone was trying to buy gifts, before heading up to the Assembly Rooms with Maggie (the home of the most fashionable parties in Bath, and where Jane Austen often danced). Most were closed for a wedding, so we headed downstairs and had fun in the Fashion Museum, where we tried on corsets and hoop skirts. I wish I could post pictures, because they are priceless!
We soon realized it was close to 4:30, so we walked to Dr. Webb and John Rose's house and had tea with fresh strawberries and clotted cream in their backyard. It was so wonderful and relaxing, and we joked around with Sisters Muriel and Pat, who joined us on the trip. I'm going to miss them! The bus eventually returned, and we drove all the way home.
We headed to Bath today, a refuge for the ill and a party for the fashionable for centuries. Starbucks got me through most of the morning, though I dozed for a large part of the bus ride. We pulled up just outside Bath Abbey about two hours later, where we listened to street violinists before heading into the Roman Baths.
The Celts had noticed something funny about the water around what is now Bath about 7,500 years ago--it smelled weird, looked weird, and was incredibly hot (try about 95 degrees F). They believed it was the site of Sulis, one of their goddesses, and they revered the place as sacred grounds. The coming of the Romans brought greater fame, and they built a bath over the site where the sick could be healed by their goddess, Sulis-Minerva. The place remained a site of healing until the Victorian period, when monarchs began visiting it for relaxation. Bath quickly grew in fame as a fashionable hang-out, and it's remained that way ever since.
The Roman Baths were lovely, and we saw the original bath built by the Romans, the water all green from the sulfur and the steps covered in algae. We wandered through the beautiful ruins while listening to our audioguides (narrated by Bill Bryson, of all people!), and the group finally split up for some much-needed lunch. Tricia and I had a wonderful lunch in the historic pump rooms and we tried the Spa water, which was hot and disgusting and I felt very cultured doing it.
We next saw Bath Abbey, with its beautiful fan vaulting and wonderful gravestones covering the walls. The day was absolutely beautiful, so we wandered through some open-air markets, sampling teas and cheeses and just admiring the city. We met up with some other Meredith Students at the Jane Austen Centre, where everyone was trying to buy gifts, before heading up to the Assembly Rooms with Maggie (the home of the most fashionable parties in Bath, and where Jane Austen often danced). Most were closed for a wedding, so we headed downstairs and had fun in the Fashion Museum, where we tried on corsets and hoop skirts. I wish I could post pictures, because they are priceless!
We soon realized it was close to 4:30, so we walked to Dr. Webb and John Rose's house and had tea with fresh strawberries and clotted cream in their backyard. It was so wonderful and relaxing, and we joked around with Sisters Muriel and Pat, who joined us on the trip. I'm going to miss them! The bus eventually returned, and we drove all the way home.
venerdì 27 luglio 2007
Murders, Wars, and...Nuns?
July 24-27, 2007
What a week! I've been all across London these last few days, concentrating specifically on the South Bank (the location of the Globe Theatre, for all you Shakespeare nuts). The Royal National Theatre sits ponderously on the bank next to Westminster Bridge, and I ended up there twice. The Olivier Theatre, where I had seen Tennessee Williams' The Rose Tattoo, had been cleared out for the next production, that of George Bernard Shaw's Saint Joan. The performance was quite possibly one of the greatest theatrical pieces I have ever seen because the spectacle was so perfect. The story followed Joan of Arc as she received revelations, rallied France to her at the end of the Hundred Years' War, and was eventually persecuted, imprisoned, and burned at the stake. The acting was by and large good, with a rather eccentric Joan and a very poor actor acting as the page, or "Egg Boy," as we all called him. It was the set, however, that set it apart. The revolving stage was used again, though in a much more ethereal manner--dead trees loomed in the foggy background, candles glinting from the base of each, and a single, distressed-wood platform stood in the center of the stage. Haunting music filled the air during key scenes, and the battle scene was absolutely flawless--music rising, stage revolving, actors fighting not with swords but with a choreographed chair dance. The best part was when the entire platform raised vertically into the air and the people climbed up it, symbolizing the scaling of the walls at Orleans. It was wonderful! Her persecution scene was difficult to take, but the burning was very artistic--the same chairs that had acted as instruments for fighting had been stacked up in front of a small scaffold, and smoke rose from underneath her until she was enveloped. All we could see as she died was her small, white-clad form falling backward into a sea of black-clad actors before being swallowed up in darkness. It was absolutely perfect!
We ended up taking a tour of the National the next day, going behind the scenes and looking at the workshops. The National has three theatres within it--the amphitheater Olivier, proscenium Lyttleton, and studio Cottsletoe. It's one of the largest theatres in the world, truly, and all its workshops are housed right there in the building. It was amazing!
I also saw the Imperial War Museum, about a twenty-minute walk from the National. It was a tough afternoon. The museum is excellent and is filled with old war machines, uniforms, artillery, film footage, everything. We wandered through WWI and WWII before participating in the interactive Tunnel Experience and Blitz Experience, which presented life in the trenches of WWI and in a house during the Blitz air raid. They were mediocre activities, though the creators had clearly been trying--it was overkill, though. The most amazing part of the museum, and by far the most devastating, was the Holocaust experience. Children under twelve are not allowed in there because it's so hard, and I've never been so angry in my life. I wanted to bring Hitler and his demon followers back from the dead just so I could beat them up! I had to leave the area because I was shaking so hard. It documents everything and has personal accounts of all the activities, even presenting a case full of victims' shoes and personal belongings that had been taken from them just before they were sent to the gas chambers. They also had a dissection table, where they performed experiments on the mentally retarded. Such innocents, forced to suffer such pain! I'm getting angry just thinking about it. I'll move on, now.
I also saw the Victorian thriller Gaslight, starring Rosamund Pike (Die Another Day, Pride and Prejudice). I got a 12-pound front row seat because I was under 25, and it was wonderful! I was three feet away from the entire performance! It followed the story of Mrs. Manningham (Pike), who thought she was going mad because things kept going missing and the gaslights kept flickering. Her husband threatened to send her to the madhouse if she didn't change. He had just left for the evening when Detective Rough enters the room, quite the stranger, and says he's been watching the house for quite awhile. Seems a murder had occurred here over twenty years ago, in this very house, and the killer was never caught--the man had been looking for some famous rubies. Rough said that killers always return to the scene of the crime, and that's just what was happening. Mr. Manningham had killed the old lady twenty years ago and was back to find the rubies! He was trying to push his wife into madness so he could lock her up and take his sweet time finding the rubies. I won't tell you how they stop him, but I loved Rough, and Rosamund Pike was absolutely exquisite! After the performance we waited by the stage door, and I got her autograph and a picture with her! Snap!
On yet another note, I had tea with the nuns of the Maria Assumpta Centre today. We sat in a sun room by the garden and sipped tea and ate homemade crumbly cake, and they were all hard of hearing and teased each other incessantly. Sister Muriel is particularly witty--she's the resident gardener, and she keeps coming in with dirt all over her feet. We bought her flowery wellies as a going-away present, and I can't wait to see her wear them! I hope I'm like her when I'm older, because she's so jolly and exciting and full of life. She doesn't take nonsense from anybody, but she sure dishes out enough of it!
What a week! I've been all across London these last few days, concentrating specifically on the South Bank (the location of the Globe Theatre, for all you Shakespeare nuts). The Royal National Theatre sits ponderously on the bank next to Westminster Bridge, and I ended up there twice. The Olivier Theatre, where I had seen Tennessee Williams' The Rose Tattoo, had been cleared out for the next production, that of George Bernard Shaw's Saint Joan. The performance was quite possibly one of the greatest theatrical pieces I have ever seen because the spectacle was so perfect. The story followed Joan of Arc as she received revelations, rallied France to her at the end of the Hundred Years' War, and was eventually persecuted, imprisoned, and burned at the stake. The acting was by and large good, with a rather eccentric Joan and a very poor actor acting as the page, or "Egg Boy," as we all called him. It was the set, however, that set it apart. The revolving stage was used again, though in a much more ethereal manner--dead trees loomed in the foggy background, candles glinting from the base of each, and a single, distressed-wood platform stood in the center of the stage. Haunting music filled the air during key scenes, and the battle scene was absolutely flawless--music rising, stage revolving, actors fighting not with swords but with a choreographed chair dance. The best part was when the entire platform raised vertically into the air and the people climbed up it, symbolizing the scaling of the walls at Orleans. It was wonderful! Her persecution scene was difficult to take, but the burning was very artistic--the same chairs that had acted as instruments for fighting had been stacked up in front of a small scaffold, and smoke rose from underneath her until she was enveloped. All we could see as she died was her small, white-clad form falling backward into a sea of black-clad actors before being swallowed up in darkness. It was absolutely perfect!
We ended up taking a tour of the National the next day, going behind the scenes and looking at the workshops. The National has three theatres within it--the amphitheater Olivier, proscenium Lyttleton, and studio Cottsletoe. It's one of the largest theatres in the world, truly, and all its workshops are housed right there in the building. It was amazing!
I also saw the Imperial War Museum, about a twenty-minute walk from the National. It was a tough afternoon. The museum is excellent and is filled with old war machines, uniforms, artillery, film footage, everything. We wandered through WWI and WWII before participating in the interactive Tunnel Experience and Blitz Experience, which presented life in the trenches of WWI and in a house during the Blitz air raid. They were mediocre activities, though the creators had clearly been trying--it was overkill, though. The most amazing part of the museum, and by far the most devastating, was the Holocaust experience. Children under twelve are not allowed in there because it's so hard, and I've never been so angry in my life. I wanted to bring Hitler and his demon followers back from the dead just so I could beat them up! I had to leave the area because I was shaking so hard. It documents everything and has personal accounts of all the activities, even presenting a case full of victims' shoes and personal belongings that had been taken from them just before they were sent to the gas chambers. They also had a dissection table, where they performed experiments on the mentally retarded. Such innocents, forced to suffer such pain! I'm getting angry just thinking about it. I'll move on, now.
I also saw the Victorian thriller Gaslight, starring Rosamund Pike (Die Another Day, Pride and Prejudice). I got a 12-pound front row seat because I was under 25, and it was wonderful! I was three feet away from the entire performance! It followed the story of Mrs. Manningham (Pike), who thought she was going mad because things kept going missing and the gaslights kept flickering. Her husband threatened to send her to the madhouse if she didn't change. He had just left for the evening when Detective Rough enters the room, quite the stranger, and says he's been watching the house for quite awhile. Seems a murder had occurred here over twenty years ago, in this very house, and the killer was never caught--the man had been looking for some famous rubies. Rough said that killers always return to the scene of the crime, and that's just what was happening. Mr. Manningham had killed the old lady twenty years ago and was back to find the rubies! He was trying to push his wife into madness so he could lock her up and take his sweet time finding the rubies. I won't tell you how they stop him, but I loved Rough, and Rosamund Pike was absolutely exquisite! After the performance we waited by the stage door, and I got her autograph and a picture with her! Snap!
On yet another note, I had tea with the nuns of the Maria Assumpta Centre today. We sat in a sun room by the garden and sipped tea and ate homemade crumbly cake, and they were all hard of hearing and teased each other incessantly. Sister Muriel is particularly witty--she's the resident gardener, and she keeps coming in with dirt all over her feet. We bought her flowery wellies as a going-away present, and I can't wait to see her wear them! I hope I'm like her when I'm older, because she's so jolly and exciting and full of life. She doesn't take nonsense from anybody, but she sure dishes out enough of it!
martedì 24 luglio 2007
Solitude and Spamalot
July 23, 2007
First off, happy birthday to Daniel Radcliffe, who is now the proud owner of 20 million pounds (what the crap!). Second off, I wish I had 20 million pounds. That'd be 40 million dollars!
I wandered London on my own today, and it was quite possibly one of the best afternoons I've had yet. I walked down High Street Kensington, past Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, to the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A) and the Natural History Museum. The V&A was lovely, but there were over seven miles of exhibitions spread out over four floors, so I definitely didn't see it all. I focused mainly on the sculpture and fashion rooms, with detours into Islamic Middle East and Middle Ages Stained Glass. They have a dress made for Princess Diana there! It soon became too overwhelming, so I stopped in the museum cafe and spent a good half hour drinking a pot of tea and reading my guide book. It was so relaxing! I finished the museum by looking into a few more rooms, and then I ran across the street to the Natural History Museum.
Anyone with a child--or if there's any child left in you--should go the the Natural History Museum. I came in the Exhibition Road entrance and took an escalator into the sun--no kidding. The entire place was full of interactive areas, including hands-on geologic sections, how to protect the ecosystem, and the dangers of volcanoes. I eventually headed down the escalator again and through the bird collection, which had replicas of dodos and just about every bird you can imagine! After that was the fossil collection, many specimens of which were found by a woman in the mid-1800s. She found a complete dinosaur skeleton at age 11! The main hall had massive skeletons of dinosaurs, mammoth skulls, tracks, giant sloths, and an itty bitty pygmy. Just down from that room was the dinosaur area, filled with skeletons and informative videos. The best part, however, was coming upon the animatronic T-Rex, which glared at you and opened its mouth and roared. It was pretty dang realistic!
I saw Spamalot that night with my friends, and I've never laughed so much! It was basically a retelling of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, accompanied by spaztastic songs--"I Am Not Dead Yet" and "Look at Sir Lancelot, He Likes to Dance-a-Lot!" Were two of my favorites. Everyone needs to go!
First off, happy birthday to Daniel Radcliffe, who is now the proud owner of 20 million pounds (what the crap!). Second off, I wish I had 20 million pounds. That'd be 40 million dollars!
I wandered London on my own today, and it was quite possibly one of the best afternoons I've had yet. I walked down High Street Kensington, past Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park, to the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A) and the Natural History Museum. The V&A was lovely, but there were over seven miles of exhibitions spread out over four floors, so I definitely didn't see it all. I focused mainly on the sculpture and fashion rooms, with detours into Islamic Middle East and Middle Ages Stained Glass. They have a dress made for Princess Diana there! It soon became too overwhelming, so I stopped in the museum cafe and spent a good half hour drinking a pot of tea and reading my guide book. It was so relaxing! I finished the museum by looking into a few more rooms, and then I ran across the street to the Natural History Museum.
Anyone with a child--or if there's any child left in you--should go the the Natural History Museum. I came in the Exhibition Road entrance and took an escalator into the sun--no kidding. The entire place was full of interactive areas, including hands-on geologic sections, how to protect the ecosystem, and the dangers of volcanoes. I eventually headed down the escalator again and through the bird collection, which had replicas of dodos and just about every bird you can imagine! After that was the fossil collection, many specimens of which were found by a woman in the mid-1800s. She found a complete dinosaur skeleton at age 11! The main hall had massive skeletons of dinosaurs, mammoth skulls, tracks, giant sloths, and an itty bitty pygmy. Just down from that room was the dinosaur area, filled with skeletons and informative videos. The best part, however, was coming upon the animatronic T-Rex, which glared at you and opened its mouth and roared. It was pretty dang realistic!
I saw Spamalot that night with my friends, and I've never laughed so much! It was basically a retelling of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, accompanied by spaztastic songs--"I Am Not Dead Yet" and "Look at Sir Lancelot, He Likes to Dance-a-Lot!" Were two of my favorites. Everyone needs to go!
domenica 22 luglio 2007
The End of an Era
July 18-22, 2007
The end of one of the greatest literary eras has come. Gutenberg invented the printing press; Thomas Paine stirred a revolution; Jane Austen caused the hearts of young girls to flutter with romance--but it was JK Rowling who taught children to love reading. She went from a woman on welfare, forced to write novels on paper napkins, to outstripping even the queen of England in wealth. She is now the second richest woman in the world, second only to Oprah Winfrey. And with good reason.
I stood in line at the Waterstone's bookstore on High Street Kensington for five hours and was the sixth person in line for the book. We huddled in the cold weather, sipping leftover Starbucks and playing BS with a crowd of British teenagers, until the doors opened at midnight. I cannot explain the thuds in my chest as my heart realized I was holding the final book. An obsession I may have, but it has been worth every second of it.
I finished the book in two nights because we spent the day at Portobello Road Market in Notting Hill and at Tennessee Williams' The Rose Tattoo, the main character played by Zoe Wannamaker (Madame Hooch in the first Harry Potter film, and her father, Sam Wannamaker, rebuilt the Globe Theatre in the early 1990s. The film was excellent, though the daughter couldn't decide if she should have an Italian or an American southern accent--she tried to mix them, and it was absolutely horrific.
The British Library is a must-see for anyone interested in literature or history, to continue in the vein of sightseeing adventures. I saw the only surviving, only intact copy of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, letters from Jane Austen to her sister Cassandra, tons of stuff from the Beatles, the Gutenberg Bible, the Emancipation Proclamation, and the MAGNA CARTA! It was amazing to stand in front of such timeless and influential works of literature.
Some day soon, Harry Potter will join their ranks. And I will be there when it does.
The end of one of the greatest literary eras has come. Gutenberg invented the printing press; Thomas Paine stirred a revolution; Jane Austen caused the hearts of young girls to flutter with romance--but it was JK Rowling who taught children to love reading. She went from a woman on welfare, forced to write novels on paper napkins, to outstripping even the queen of England in wealth. She is now the second richest woman in the world, second only to Oprah Winfrey. And with good reason.
I stood in line at the Waterstone's bookstore on High Street Kensington for five hours and was the sixth person in line for the book. We huddled in the cold weather, sipping leftover Starbucks and playing BS with a crowd of British teenagers, until the doors opened at midnight. I cannot explain the thuds in my chest as my heart realized I was holding the final book. An obsession I may have, but it has been worth every second of it.
I finished the book in two nights because we spent the day at Portobello Road Market in Notting Hill and at Tennessee Williams' The Rose Tattoo, the main character played by Zoe Wannamaker (Madame Hooch in the first Harry Potter film, and her father, Sam Wannamaker, rebuilt the Globe Theatre in the early 1990s. The film was excellent, though the daughter couldn't decide if she should have an Italian or an American southern accent--she tried to mix them, and it was absolutely horrific.
The British Library is a must-see for anyone interested in literature or history, to continue in the vein of sightseeing adventures. I saw the only surviving, only intact copy of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, letters from Jane Austen to her sister Cassandra, tons of stuff from the Beatles, the Gutenberg Bible, the Emancipation Proclamation, and the MAGNA CARTA! It was amazing to stand in front of such timeless and influential works of literature.
Some day soon, Harry Potter will join their ranks. And I will be there when it does.
mercoledì 18 luglio 2007
The Bloom Withers Onstage
July 17, 2007
Random showers permeated the otherwise sunny afternoon, but I noticed none of it as I spent my time trying to finish my homework--that plan failed, too. The only truly exciting part of the day was heading to the Duke of York's Theatre just off of Liecester Square to see In Celebration, a David Storey play starring Orlando Bloom. That's right, I saw Orlando Bloom!
We sat in row B of the top gallery, and the theatre was a pretty tall place. However, the set was two levels of a house, and the characters were frequently upstairs getting ready, sleeping, and other things, so we got to see everything. Orlando Bloom was the first person onstage, and the whole audience gasped when he came out. He was dressed in a loose sweater and looked quite a bit like a dapper Mr. Rogers: "Hey, Neighbor!" The play centered on a family of a father, mother, and three male children (all grown up now), in which the children return for a night of celebration for their parents' fortieth anniversary. The proverbial can of worms is opened wide as past grievances come to light. Problem was, we never fully found out what those grievances were.
The characters seemed agitated by minor episodes of their past, and one of them, Andrew (the best actor there, he absolutely stole the show), seemed to have quite a bit of sexual feelings for his mother--creepy! Orlando Bloom is a ridiculously terrible actor, and at one point he curls up on the edge of the couch and cries. But why? No one knows. I'm glad I saw the play, glad I can say I saw Orlando Bloom face to face (we queued up outside afterwards and got his picture), but overall I was not that impressed. It's something you see and then never worry about again.
Random showers permeated the otherwise sunny afternoon, but I noticed none of it as I spent my time trying to finish my homework--that plan failed, too. The only truly exciting part of the day was heading to the Duke of York's Theatre just off of Liecester Square to see In Celebration, a David Storey play starring Orlando Bloom. That's right, I saw Orlando Bloom!
We sat in row B of the top gallery, and the theatre was a pretty tall place. However, the set was two levels of a house, and the characters were frequently upstairs getting ready, sleeping, and other things, so we got to see everything. Orlando Bloom was the first person onstage, and the whole audience gasped when he came out. He was dressed in a loose sweater and looked quite a bit like a dapper Mr. Rogers: "Hey, Neighbor!" The play centered on a family of a father, mother, and three male children (all grown up now), in which the children return for a night of celebration for their parents' fortieth anniversary. The proverbial can of worms is opened wide as past grievances come to light. Problem was, we never fully found out what those grievances were.
The characters seemed agitated by minor episodes of their past, and one of them, Andrew (the best actor there, he absolutely stole the show), seemed to have quite a bit of sexual feelings for his mother--creepy! Orlando Bloom is a ridiculously terrible actor, and at one point he curls up on the edge of the couch and cries. But why? No one knows. I'm glad I saw the play, glad I can say I saw Orlando Bloom face to face (we queued up outside afterwards and got his picture), but overall I was not that impressed. It's something you see and then never worry about again.
martedì 17 luglio 2007
Mr. Darcy = Robin Hood
July 14-16, 2007
What a wonderful weekend! With the exception of seeing Harry Potter at the Odeon Theatre, this was my favorite activity of the whole trip. On Friday Bekah and I packed our bags and headed to Chesterfield, to the northeast of London. We missed our first train by one minute because of delays on the Circle Line, and I ran so hard to make the train that I actually stopped breathing--wheezing was the method of choice for air intake for about twenty minutes after that, and several people stopped and asked if I was alright. The ticket woman was very concerned about me and gave us free tickets onto the next train, so we hopped that one when my lungs returned to their normal size and arrived in a very rainy Chesterfield station. A very kind taxi driver of the Duckmanton services picked us up and drove us to the small village of Beeley, about thirty minutes or so from the station. He didn't even charge us the full price of the ride, and he stayed to make sure we found our home safely.
We stayed the weekend in a deconsecrated Methodist church just down from the pub with old friends of the Meredith Abroad program, John and Janet. We had a whole section of the church to ourselves, and they made us tea and stocked the fridge for us. Bekah and I relaxed the first night, grabbing dinner at the Devonshire Arms pub before watching Pride and Prejudice. Maggie, Meredith, and Hillary arrived the next day, and then we all set out for Chatsworth.
We walked from Beeley to the Chatsworth house, a bit over an hour's walk through pastures and fields and, apparently, the western edge of Sherwood Forest! I wanted Robin Hood to hop out of the forest, though I would definitely have taken Mr. Darcy. The house itself was absolutely amazing, 1.3 acres of just roof sitting on a 35,000 acre estate. Could you imagine growing up with that much?! The house has been with the family for over four hundred years, and it's full of amazing art--they have statues of the Egyptian goddess Sekhmet and a Grecian foot from 1 AD! We ended up finally in the hall of portraits seen in the new Pride and Prejudice movie (by the way, Chatsworth = Pemberly), and we turned the corner and were face to face with Mr. Darcy's bust! It was amazing! A tour of the grounds followed, and then we walked back home, had some delicious pub food again, and ended the day.
Sunday was spent coming home, and our taxi driver was tons of fun. He asked us questions about the US and told us anecdotes about Chesterfield, and I was sorry to see him go. It took us a while to get home on the train because there was a fatality on the tracks in Luton, but we eventually made it and did homework until our eyes fell out.
I toured the National Gallery on Monday and saw paintings from Piero della Francesca (yeah, Sansepolcro!), Jan Van Eyck, Rembrandt (by the way, the owners of Chatsworth have a Rembrandt in their foyer!), da Vinci, Raphael, and everything. It was amazing! I also went by the Duke of York's Theatre and got tickets to see In Celebration, a play starring ORLANDO BLOOM!!!!!!! I'm seeing it tonight, and I'll definitely keep you posted. I saw the play Betrayal last night, by Harold Pinter, and the acting was amazing! We stood in the back for only 7 pounds and watched, and the theatre was small and intimate and wonderful.
What a wonderful weekend! With the exception of seeing Harry Potter at the Odeon Theatre, this was my favorite activity of the whole trip. On Friday Bekah and I packed our bags and headed to Chesterfield, to the northeast of London. We missed our first train by one minute because of delays on the Circle Line, and I ran so hard to make the train that I actually stopped breathing--wheezing was the method of choice for air intake for about twenty minutes after that, and several people stopped and asked if I was alright. The ticket woman was very concerned about me and gave us free tickets onto the next train, so we hopped that one when my lungs returned to their normal size and arrived in a very rainy Chesterfield station. A very kind taxi driver of the Duckmanton services picked us up and drove us to the small village of Beeley, about thirty minutes or so from the station. He didn't even charge us the full price of the ride, and he stayed to make sure we found our home safely.
We stayed the weekend in a deconsecrated Methodist church just down from the pub with old friends of the Meredith Abroad program, John and Janet. We had a whole section of the church to ourselves, and they made us tea and stocked the fridge for us. Bekah and I relaxed the first night, grabbing dinner at the Devonshire Arms pub before watching Pride and Prejudice. Maggie, Meredith, and Hillary arrived the next day, and then we all set out for Chatsworth.
We walked from Beeley to the Chatsworth house, a bit over an hour's walk through pastures and fields and, apparently, the western edge of Sherwood Forest! I wanted Robin Hood to hop out of the forest, though I would definitely have taken Mr. Darcy. The house itself was absolutely amazing, 1.3 acres of just roof sitting on a 35,000 acre estate. Could you imagine growing up with that much?! The house has been with the family for over four hundred years, and it's full of amazing art--they have statues of the Egyptian goddess Sekhmet and a Grecian foot from 1 AD! We ended up finally in the hall of portraits seen in the new Pride and Prejudice movie (by the way, Chatsworth = Pemberly), and we turned the corner and were face to face with Mr. Darcy's bust! It was amazing! A tour of the grounds followed, and then we walked back home, had some delicious pub food again, and ended the day.
Sunday was spent coming home, and our taxi driver was tons of fun. He asked us questions about the US and told us anecdotes about Chesterfield, and I was sorry to see him go. It took us a while to get home on the train because there was a fatality on the tracks in Luton, but we eventually made it and did homework until our eyes fell out.
I toured the National Gallery on Monday and saw paintings from Piero della Francesca (yeah, Sansepolcro!), Jan Van Eyck, Rembrandt (by the way, the owners of Chatsworth have a Rembrandt in their foyer!), da Vinci, Raphael, and everything. It was amazing! I also went by the Duke of York's Theatre and got tickets to see In Celebration, a play starring ORLANDO BLOOM!!!!!!! I'm seeing it tonight, and I'll definitely keep you posted. I saw the play Betrayal last night, by Harold Pinter, and the acting was amazing! We stood in the back for only 7 pounds and watched, and the theatre was small and intimate and wonderful.
venerdì 13 luglio 2007
Can Life be Anymore Amazing?
July 10-13, 2007
These last few days have been packed!
I went to the British Museum with Mom and Merrily, and I could absolutely live there and be fine with it. It holds over seventy thousand exhibitions across two and a half miles of corridors. We focused on the Egyptian sections, the Elgin Marbles, Mesopotamia, Ancient Celts, and the Sutton Ho Exhibit. My favorite pieces are still the Rosetta Stone, which caused the deciphering of ancient hieroglyphics, and the papyri containing the Weighing of the Heart Ceremony, an ancient ritual from the Book of the Dead that is supposed to occur in the afterlife, in the Egyptian sections. The Elgin Marbles are reliefs and statues chopped off the Pantheon by Elgin, a British curator/lord/whatever who went to Greece and took them. They are absolutely beautiful, especially the carving of the dresses and robes--it looks like they're about to start flowing! From there we headed through the Mesopotamia section to the Celts, where we saw intricate belt buckles and weaponry; the Sutton Ho exhibit finished, which contains remnants from elaborate graves found near Sutton. It was amazing, and I could spend several days there easily.
From there we headed straight to Evensong at St. Paul's Cathedral, and we walked right through the crowds and straight under the dome. We sat under its painted beauty for an hour, listening to a wonderful men's choir sing praises and beauties to the Lord. A short walk across the Millennium Bridge found us at the Globe Theatre, where we saw Love's Labour's Lost, a comedy about a court that forsworn love and women only to do everything in its power to get women to fall in love. It was hilarious, and the actors ran through the groundlings and jumped off the stage all night! If you ever get a chance to go to the Globe, do so--you won't regret it.
The next day I got my phone fixed, which I can't wait to use--you don't realize how much you miss a phone until it's gone! We tried to see Macbeth that night at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, but delays on the Circle line saw us fifteen minutes late. Tricia and I ended up walking through Regent's Park for about an hour (Bend It Like Beckham, anyone?) before heading back and having a tea party in my room.
Thursday was a very full day. We had a day trip to Canterbury, and what a cathedral! Its gothic arches rose to the dusky ceiling in fan vaulting, and the graves were intricately carved. The crypt beneath still had its original Romanesque architecture! We recited Chaucer's opening eighteen lines there, and I felt very accomplished as a Meredith woman right then. I got lost on my way back to the bus from a ridiculously silly exhibit about the Canterbury Tales that everyone should go to at least once, and then we headed to the shore at Broadstairs. The beach was absolutely beautiful, and the white chalk cliffs loomed behind us as we numbed our feet in the English Channel--France peeked at us from the horizon. I had a cup of hot tea on the beach, and we relaxed and watched little children build sand castles and play with seaweed.
The best part of the day came that night, though--at 8:40 we headed into the Odeon Theatre at Liecester Square, home of countless film premiers, and saw Harry Potter: The Order of the Phoenix!!! I thought I was going to explode with excitement! The action and graphics were absolutely amazing, and Daniel Radcliffe and Michael Gambon's acting was superb. Tickets are really expensive here--the equivalent of about $26--so I plan to go a lot when I get home after August 6th. Anyone up for an adventure?
These last few days have been packed!
I went to the British Museum with Mom and Merrily, and I could absolutely live there and be fine with it. It holds over seventy thousand exhibitions across two and a half miles of corridors. We focused on the Egyptian sections, the Elgin Marbles, Mesopotamia, Ancient Celts, and the Sutton Ho Exhibit. My favorite pieces are still the Rosetta Stone, which caused the deciphering of ancient hieroglyphics, and the papyri containing the Weighing of the Heart Ceremony, an ancient ritual from the Book of the Dead that is supposed to occur in the afterlife, in the Egyptian sections. The Elgin Marbles are reliefs and statues chopped off the Pantheon by Elgin, a British curator/lord/whatever who went to Greece and took them. They are absolutely beautiful, especially the carving of the dresses and robes--it looks like they're about to start flowing! From there we headed through the Mesopotamia section to the Celts, where we saw intricate belt buckles and weaponry; the Sutton Ho exhibit finished, which contains remnants from elaborate graves found near Sutton. It was amazing, and I could spend several days there easily.
From there we headed straight to Evensong at St. Paul's Cathedral, and we walked right through the crowds and straight under the dome. We sat under its painted beauty for an hour, listening to a wonderful men's choir sing praises and beauties to the Lord. A short walk across the Millennium Bridge found us at the Globe Theatre, where we saw Love's Labour's Lost, a comedy about a court that forsworn love and women only to do everything in its power to get women to fall in love. It was hilarious, and the actors ran through the groundlings and jumped off the stage all night! If you ever get a chance to go to the Globe, do so--you won't regret it.
The next day I got my phone fixed, which I can't wait to use--you don't realize how much you miss a phone until it's gone! We tried to see Macbeth that night at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, but delays on the Circle line saw us fifteen minutes late. Tricia and I ended up walking through Regent's Park for about an hour (Bend It Like Beckham, anyone?) before heading back and having a tea party in my room.
Thursday was a very full day. We had a day trip to Canterbury, and what a cathedral! Its gothic arches rose to the dusky ceiling in fan vaulting, and the graves were intricately carved. The crypt beneath still had its original Romanesque architecture! We recited Chaucer's opening eighteen lines there, and I felt very accomplished as a Meredith woman right then. I got lost on my way back to the bus from a ridiculously silly exhibit about the Canterbury Tales that everyone should go to at least once, and then we headed to the shore at Broadstairs. The beach was absolutely beautiful, and the white chalk cliffs loomed behind us as we numbed our feet in the English Channel--France peeked at us from the horizon. I had a cup of hot tea on the beach, and we relaxed and watched little children build sand castles and play with seaweed.
The best part of the day came that night, though--at 8:40 we headed into the Odeon Theatre at Liecester Square, home of countless film premiers, and saw Harry Potter: The Order of the Phoenix!!! I thought I was going to explode with excitement! The action and graphics were absolutely amazing, and Daniel Radcliffe and Michael Gambon's acting was superb. Tickets are really expensive here--the equivalent of about $26--so I plan to go a lot when I get home after August 6th. Anyone up for an adventure?
lunedì 9 luglio 2007
Cheerio!
July 2-July 9, 2007
London is beautiful, if not rather wet and rainy and entirely unpredictable. I've been here just over a week, now, and it feels like home. I'll stop suddenly on the street and realize that I've been walking down the streets of London, taking the Tube and sipping tea in cafes, and it's completely normal--more normal than walking through Meredith, at times.
I dyed my hair! It is now a lovely nutmeg brown, and it was very spur-of-the-moment. I saw Maureen's hair dyed and decided that I should do it too. It gave me a very European feeling, and I caused everyone to stop in surprise when they saw me. Excellent!
It's been quite a busy time here! I recited the opening prologue of the Canterbury Tales over Chaucer's grave in Westminster Abbey, which was absolutely beautiful. The graves are so elaborate, and everyone from Lord Byron to Handel to Elizabeth I are buried beneath its floors and crying angels. The tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the first of its kind, is surrounded by poppies--it's the only grave no one can step on, according to a tour guide, though that statement's a bit erroneous. Good job, tour guide.
The Tower of London was amazing, as always--a beef eater gave us a tour, and he described in detail the blood and guts of the Tower's history. Did you know that beef eaters and their families actually live IN the Tower? They have their own quarters and doctors and barbers and everything! Poor teenaged children, though--you have a permanent curfew of 9:30 pm. I also saw the Cabinet War Rooms and St. James' Park (with the largest pelicans EVER!) and Buckingham Palace today, which were all amazing. We got a tour of Parliament this morning, and I would like to be a member of the House of Lords just so I could sit on those sofas. Dang, they look comfy!
My sister and mother came to visit me, can you believe it? They're staying for ten days, and we spent the weekend touring the Cotswolds, picturesque villages clustered to the northwest of London. We stayed in a bed and breakfast in Cheltenham (pronounced "Chilt'n'm"), and our room was the Egyptian Room--maybe the guy knew it was ME coming to visit! We saw the Rococo Gardens at Painswick, a beautiful Georgian Gothic church in Tetbury, had our rental car side-swiped in Cirencester (no damage, thankfully), had tea in Bourton-on-the-Water, and fed the ducks in the Slaughters (the most beautiful villages of the lot). The next day we saw the stone circle at Avebury, and the gnats mistook Mom for a sheep because of her blonde hair and white shirt--they were all over her! We had to dodge sheep poop in an effort to get her away.
By the way, our manner of transportation that weekend--rental car. Driver--sister. The UK needs to give out driving lessons before letting anyone take to the roads! Everything is backwards, it often looks like dogs are driving the cars because they're sitting in the front left seats (passenger seats, here), and the round-abouts are about the most ridiculous things I've ever seen. Four different people told us four different methods of using them, so clearly we're not the only ones confused. Several near misses and the most expensive gas in the WORLD and we survived, but it felt like we barely made it sometimes.
Remember--if you need to get around the UK, hire a professional. You'll live longer.
London is beautiful, if not rather wet and rainy and entirely unpredictable. I've been here just over a week, now, and it feels like home. I'll stop suddenly on the street and realize that I've been walking down the streets of London, taking the Tube and sipping tea in cafes, and it's completely normal--more normal than walking through Meredith, at times.
I dyed my hair! It is now a lovely nutmeg brown, and it was very spur-of-the-moment. I saw Maureen's hair dyed and decided that I should do it too. It gave me a very European feeling, and I caused everyone to stop in surprise when they saw me. Excellent!
It's been quite a busy time here! I recited the opening prologue of the Canterbury Tales over Chaucer's grave in Westminster Abbey, which was absolutely beautiful. The graves are so elaborate, and everyone from Lord Byron to Handel to Elizabeth I are buried beneath its floors and crying angels. The tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the first of its kind, is surrounded by poppies--it's the only grave no one can step on, according to a tour guide, though that statement's a bit erroneous. Good job, tour guide.
The Tower of London was amazing, as always--a beef eater gave us a tour, and he described in detail the blood and guts of the Tower's history. Did you know that beef eaters and their families actually live IN the Tower? They have their own quarters and doctors and barbers and everything! Poor teenaged children, though--you have a permanent curfew of 9:30 pm. I also saw the Cabinet War Rooms and St. James' Park (with the largest pelicans EVER!) and Buckingham Palace today, which were all amazing. We got a tour of Parliament this morning, and I would like to be a member of the House of Lords just so I could sit on those sofas. Dang, they look comfy!
My sister and mother came to visit me, can you believe it? They're staying for ten days, and we spent the weekend touring the Cotswolds, picturesque villages clustered to the northwest of London. We stayed in a bed and breakfast in Cheltenham (pronounced "Chilt'n'm"), and our room was the Egyptian Room--maybe the guy knew it was ME coming to visit! We saw the Rococo Gardens at Painswick, a beautiful Georgian Gothic church in Tetbury, had our rental car side-swiped in Cirencester (no damage, thankfully), had tea in Bourton-on-the-Water, and fed the ducks in the Slaughters (the most beautiful villages of the lot). The next day we saw the stone circle at Avebury, and the gnats mistook Mom for a sheep because of her blonde hair and white shirt--they were all over her! We had to dodge sheep poop in an effort to get her away.
By the way, our manner of transportation that weekend--rental car. Driver--sister. The UK needs to give out driving lessons before letting anyone take to the roads! Everything is backwards, it often looks like dogs are driving the cars because they're sitting in the front left seats (passenger seats, here), and the round-abouts are about the most ridiculous things I've ever seen. Four different people told us four different methods of using them, so clearly we're not the only ones confused. Several near misses and the most expensive gas in the WORLD and we survived, but it felt like we barely made it sometimes.
Remember--if you need to get around the UK, hire a professional. You'll live longer.
domenica 1 luglio 2007
Five Countries, Countless Adventures
June 25, 2007-July 1, 2007
I cannot recount the full tales of my adventures from the past week, but I will give you the best run down I can. Let's just say that trains, cars, buses, boats, and very VERY tired feet took us through five countries and four major cities within seven days.
We left Lugano after a night of farewells at about 8 AM and headed for Salzburg. Crystal had planned out a wonderful itinerary for us: train to Milano, train to Verona, train to Innsbruck, train to Salzburg, bus to hotel. It cut off over an hour of our trip, and we missed Italy. We grabbed reservations for the trains and headed out, and our first train went like clockwork (Switzerland, hello! Cuckoo clocks!). We ran to our train in Milan with all fifty pounds on our backs, and I thought we were going to miss our train, so I jumped on a car early. Ah, Italy. The train was packed like sardines in a can, and we couldn't move ANYWHERE. People were beginning to put their stuff down and sit on it, and I was hot and sweaty and heavy and not a happy person. I growled loudly that we had reservations and we needed to switch cars, and two beautiful Australian men said they would help--they shoved people out of the way and led us to the next car! I'm pretty sure I hit somebody in the face with my bags, but I don't care at this point. The next car was even worse, and here's the icing on the cake--the trains had overbooked! People had already reserved our seats, and there was nowhere to go. We were all really good-natured about it, surprisingly, and I spent a pretty-pleasant two-hour ride atop my luggage in the aisle of an unairconditioned Italian train, squished between the walking definition of BO and a woman with about ten kids. We smiled and laughed with each other, though, and that transcended all languages. Switzerland may be on time, but you can't beat the comraderie of the Italians.
We missed our connection by one minute and hopped a train to Brennero, where we hoped to get across to Innsbruck. An Italian woman by the name of Jessica started speaking with us, and we ended up hanging out with her for the full train ride. She told us to come with her to the Bolzano stop, and she ended up helping us communicate with the train reservations desk. We bid her farewell and the train lady said "track three, NOW," so we ran for it and hopped the train. It was only AFTER the train was moving that we realized, hey, we're headed to VENICE! WRONG DIRECTION!!!!! We got out at a mystery station and studied the partenze board, and we were going to go back to Bolzano and try again when a woman came out of nowhere and asked if she could help us. We told her we needed to get to Innsbruck and then to Salzburg and she said that a train was headed here RIGHT NOW for that place! The train she was speaking of was over two hours late, and it pulled up right when she said it and right when we needed it the most. We got the rest of the way without a glitch and arrived at the Hotel Turnerwirt in Salzburg (recommend it!) at about 10 pm. We fell RIGHT to sleep.
The next day was taken up with the Sound of Music tour, which was AMAZING, a marketplace, the Hohensalzburg (best-preserved medieval fortress in the world), and several beautiful churches. Our bus driver on the SoM tour could yodel, and I cajoled him into serenading us--I was yodeled to by an Austrian busdriver! Yeah, how many people can claim that one?
We headed to Luzern the next morning, which found us retracing our steps to Switzerland. Several crises found us homeless, but the incredibly helpful TI found us a place toward the outside of town. We saw several beautiful sites the next day, from the old wooden bridge to the towering cathedral to the Weeping Lion. And to top it all off, I got my hair cut! In Switzerland! The lady couldn't speak any English, but I think it's my best haircut to date. Kind of odd, but it works...
The 29th saw us bidding farewell to Crystal, who headed back to the states, while we forged onward to Paris. I've heard so many things about the French being rude, but I would like to say here and now that every Frenchman I met personally and interacted with was absolutely sweet. They were all helpful and nice, and some of the most personable people I've come in contact with.
We arrived in Paris at the Gare de Lyon station and took the Metro to our hotel, which was the SKETCHIEST place ever! I won't go into details, but needless to say it was quite an experience. Don't stay at the Hotel Tamaris, whatever you do. However, they were nice enough to hold our bags the next day while we traipsed around.
Paris was busy and crowded, but we saw some amazing sites. We went to Notre Dame Cathedral (I wanted the gargoyles to come out and dance) and walked from there to the Louvre, and we went in on a spur-of-the-moment thing. I saw the Mona Lisa! I had been prepared for disappointment, but she was absolutely beautiful. I got within three feet of her, and I could study the beautiful hair, mysterious smile, and breathtaking background up close. I was enraptured! From there we got lost in the Spanish painting section on our way to the French artists. Did you know that the Louvre has only two Monets? And they're not even good ones! His winter scenes were so blah to me...However, such boring work was glossed over when we entered the Egyptian section!! I saw a Weighing of the Heart Ceremony depiction, a statue of Tutankhamen, and a bust of his psychotic father, Ankhenaten. Amazing! Our final stop in the Louvre was the Mesopotamia section, where I saw Hamurabi's Code--the first written code of law in history! It was AMAZING!
From there we saw the Arc de Triomphe, and I got my French Kiss phone call picture in front of it ("I will triumph!"). The Metro then took us to the bottom of the Eiffel Tower, which was absolutely breathtaking. You can see it from all over the city, but it's like a ghostly spectre through the clouds. To see it up close and personal, especially to stand beneath it, is beyond compare. The crowds were too long to go up it, but I was perfectly happy at the bottom--for now...
A train took us on to Calais, and we stayed in the lovely Hotel Pacific for a night. We woke up early this morning, had a scrumptuous breakfast there (the honey and jam were in individualized jars about the size of your thumb--talk about supporting home companies!), and took a taxi to the ferry station. The ferry was like nothing I had ever seen before--it was the size of a cruise ship! It had a shopping mall inside, and I saw it load over a dozen eighteen-wheelers after all the passengers were on. HUGE! We came to the white chalk cliffs of Dover, which were absolutely beautiful, and then we took a train to London Charing Cross Station. An underground ride later we were at the Centre, and I now have my OWN ROOM! Be excited!
Well, that's all for today, ladies and gents. Hopefully a hot pasty will be in my future.
I cannot recount the full tales of my adventures from the past week, but I will give you the best run down I can. Let's just say that trains, cars, buses, boats, and very VERY tired feet took us through five countries and four major cities within seven days.
We left Lugano after a night of farewells at about 8 AM and headed for Salzburg. Crystal had planned out a wonderful itinerary for us: train to Milano, train to Verona, train to Innsbruck, train to Salzburg, bus to hotel. It cut off over an hour of our trip, and we missed Italy. We grabbed reservations for the trains and headed out, and our first train went like clockwork (Switzerland, hello! Cuckoo clocks!). We ran to our train in Milan with all fifty pounds on our backs, and I thought we were going to miss our train, so I jumped on a car early. Ah, Italy. The train was packed like sardines in a can, and we couldn't move ANYWHERE. People were beginning to put their stuff down and sit on it, and I was hot and sweaty and heavy and not a happy person. I growled loudly that we had reservations and we needed to switch cars, and two beautiful Australian men said they would help--they shoved people out of the way and led us to the next car! I'm pretty sure I hit somebody in the face with my bags, but I don't care at this point. The next car was even worse, and here's the icing on the cake--the trains had overbooked! People had already reserved our seats, and there was nowhere to go. We were all really good-natured about it, surprisingly, and I spent a pretty-pleasant two-hour ride atop my luggage in the aisle of an unairconditioned Italian train, squished between the walking definition of BO and a woman with about ten kids. We smiled and laughed with each other, though, and that transcended all languages. Switzerland may be on time, but you can't beat the comraderie of the Italians.
We missed our connection by one minute and hopped a train to Brennero, where we hoped to get across to Innsbruck. An Italian woman by the name of Jessica started speaking with us, and we ended up hanging out with her for the full train ride. She told us to come with her to the Bolzano stop, and she ended up helping us communicate with the train reservations desk. We bid her farewell and the train lady said "track three, NOW," so we ran for it and hopped the train. It was only AFTER the train was moving that we realized, hey, we're headed to VENICE! WRONG DIRECTION!!!!! We got out at a mystery station and studied the partenze board, and we were going to go back to Bolzano and try again when a woman came out of nowhere and asked if she could help us. We told her we needed to get to Innsbruck and then to Salzburg and she said that a train was headed here RIGHT NOW for that place! The train she was speaking of was over two hours late, and it pulled up right when she said it and right when we needed it the most. We got the rest of the way without a glitch and arrived at the Hotel Turnerwirt in Salzburg (recommend it!) at about 10 pm. We fell RIGHT to sleep.
The next day was taken up with the Sound of Music tour, which was AMAZING, a marketplace, the Hohensalzburg (best-preserved medieval fortress in the world), and several beautiful churches. Our bus driver on the SoM tour could yodel, and I cajoled him into serenading us--I was yodeled to by an Austrian busdriver! Yeah, how many people can claim that one?
We headed to Luzern the next morning, which found us retracing our steps to Switzerland. Several crises found us homeless, but the incredibly helpful TI found us a place toward the outside of town. We saw several beautiful sites the next day, from the old wooden bridge to the towering cathedral to the Weeping Lion. And to top it all off, I got my hair cut! In Switzerland! The lady couldn't speak any English, but I think it's my best haircut to date. Kind of odd, but it works...
The 29th saw us bidding farewell to Crystal, who headed back to the states, while we forged onward to Paris. I've heard so many things about the French being rude, but I would like to say here and now that every Frenchman I met personally and interacted with was absolutely sweet. They were all helpful and nice, and some of the most personable people I've come in contact with.
We arrived in Paris at the Gare de Lyon station and took the Metro to our hotel, which was the SKETCHIEST place ever! I won't go into details, but needless to say it was quite an experience. Don't stay at the Hotel Tamaris, whatever you do. However, they were nice enough to hold our bags the next day while we traipsed around.
Paris was busy and crowded, but we saw some amazing sites. We went to Notre Dame Cathedral (I wanted the gargoyles to come out and dance) and walked from there to the Louvre, and we went in on a spur-of-the-moment thing. I saw the Mona Lisa! I had been prepared for disappointment, but she was absolutely beautiful. I got within three feet of her, and I could study the beautiful hair, mysterious smile, and breathtaking background up close. I was enraptured! From there we got lost in the Spanish painting section on our way to the French artists. Did you know that the Louvre has only two Monets? And they're not even good ones! His winter scenes were so blah to me...However, such boring work was glossed over when we entered the Egyptian section!! I saw a Weighing of the Heart Ceremony depiction, a statue of Tutankhamen, and a bust of his psychotic father, Ankhenaten. Amazing! Our final stop in the Louvre was the Mesopotamia section, where I saw Hamurabi's Code--the first written code of law in history! It was AMAZING!
From there we saw the Arc de Triomphe, and I got my French Kiss phone call picture in front of it ("I will triumph!"). The Metro then took us to the bottom of the Eiffel Tower, which was absolutely breathtaking. You can see it from all over the city, but it's like a ghostly spectre through the clouds. To see it up close and personal, especially to stand beneath it, is beyond compare. The crowds were too long to go up it, but I was perfectly happy at the bottom--for now...
A train took us on to Calais, and we stayed in the lovely Hotel Pacific for a night. We woke up early this morning, had a scrumptuous breakfast there (the honey and jam were in individualized jars about the size of your thumb--talk about supporting home companies!), and took a taxi to the ferry station. The ferry was like nothing I had ever seen before--it was the size of a cruise ship! It had a shopping mall inside, and I saw it load over a dozen eighteen-wheelers after all the passengers were on. HUGE! We came to the white chalk cliffs of Dover, which were absolutely beautiful, and then we took a train to London Charing Cross Station. An underground ride later we were at the Centre, and I now have my OWN ROOM! Be excited!
Well, that's all for today, ladies and gents. Hopefully a hot pasty will be in my future.
domenica 24 giugno 2007
The Last of Lugano
June 23, 2007
I won't be able to update for at least a week, I think, because this is my last day in Lugano, Switzerland. Tomorrow we say our last goodbyes to the half-program members of Summer Abroad and head out into the Continent. Bekah, Crystal, and I will be spending two nights in Salzburg, Austria; two nights in Lucerne, Switzerland (where Crystal will then leave us and head to Zurich to fly back to the USA); one night in Paris, France; and one night in Calais, France, where we will then take the ferry across the English Channel to Dover and a train to London. One month in London and a week of travel in Scotland, and then I come home on August sixth. Pretty scarily quick!
Well, now that my travel plans have been laid out so cleanly, it's time to recount what happened today. Turns out that my journal was due at 8:30 AM, and I still had two requirements to fill! I visited the Parco di Florida, a second-story garden/park across the street from where I live. I was the only person there at 8 AM, and I spent some time wandering through the old marble archways and gardens, taking a few moments to play on the swingset. I felt more like a child, swinging back and forth with my backpack still on in a park in Switzerland at 8AM, than I have in quite a long time. It was wonderfully refreshing.
Nothing lasts forever, however, and I quickly realized that I was late to breakfast. I defeated the Hellish Hill and scarfed my croissant, cereal, and yogurt before heading to the cemetery on the hill. The Lorengo Cemetery is beautiful and simple, with detailed mausoleums and small in-ground graves the majority of the place. Next to it is the Santa Maria di Lorengo church, a beautiful but simple church that has mass mainly to bless the dead before they are interred. I spent the rest of the morning finishing my journal before turning it in for the final grade (I got an A! Be proud!) and relaxing with my friends. A basic shopping excursion was much-needed, even though I found only ONE shirt.
Lizzy made dinner for us, wonderfully delicious Penne alla Caprese, and then we played cards and listened to old-school Michael Jackson until the wee hours of the morning. Speed and War can get pretty intense, ya know!
I won't be able to update for at least a week, I think, because this is my last day in Lugano, Switzerland. Tomorrow we say our last goodbyes to the half-program members of Summer Abroad and head out into the Continent. Bekah, Crystal, and I will be spending two nights in Salzburg, Austria; two nights in Lucerne, Switzerland (where Crystal will then leave us and head to Zurich to fly back to the USA); one night in Paris, France; and one night in Calais, France, where we will then take the ferry across the English Channel to Dover and a train to London. One month in London and a week of travel in Scotland, and then I come home on August sixth. Pretty scarily quick!
Well, now that my travel plans have been laid out so cleanly, it's time to recount what happened today. Turns out that my journal was due at 8:30 AM, and I still had two requirements to fill! I visited the Parco di Florida, a second-story garden/park across the street from where I live. I was the only person there at 8 AM, and I spent some time wandering through the old marble archways and gardens, taking a few moments to play on the swingset. I felt more like a child, swinging back and forth with my backpack still on in a park in Switzerland at 8AM, than I have in quite a long time. It was wonderfully refreshing.
Nothing lasts forever, however, and I quickly realized that I was late to breakfast. I defeated the Hellish Hill and scarfed my croissant, cereal, and yogurt before heading to the cemetery on the hill. The Lorengo Cemetery is beautiful and simple, with detailed mausoleums and small in-ground graves the majority of the place. Next to it is the Santa Maria di Lorengo church, a beautiful but simple church that has mass mainly to bless the dead before they are interred. I spent the rest of the morning finishing my journal before turning it in for the final grade (I got an A! Be proud!) and relaxing with my friends. A basic shopping excursion was much-needed, even though I found only ONE shirt.
Lizzy made dinner for us, wonderfully delicious Penne alla Caprese, and then we played cards and listened to old-school Michael Jackson until the wee hours of the morning. Speed and War can get pretty intense, ya know!
sabato 23 giugno 2007
The STUDY of Study Abroad
June 22, 2007
Happy Birthday, Laura Combs! Yeah cuz, the big TWO OH!
I sure hope you had a happy day, because those of us in Lugano realized why the program is called STUDY abroad. I had an exam in my History of Renaissance/Reformation class, and after that was done I had to write a research paper on how Ulrich Zwingli influenced the Reformation. I'm not quite sure how any of it turned out--I think my head exploded somewhere around "Please compare and contrast the different manifestations of the Radical Reformation," and I haven't been able to find it since. Whoops!
Happy Birthday, Laura Combs! Yeah cuz, the big TWO OH!
I sure hope you had a happy day, because those of us in Lugano realized why the program is called STUDY abroad. I had an exam in my History of Renaissance/Reformation class, and after that was done I had to write a research paper on how Ulrich Zwingli influenced the Reformation. I'm not quite sure how any of it turned out--I think my head exploded somewhere around "Please compare and contrast the different manifestations of the Radical Reformation," and I haven't been able to find it since. Whoops!
Flying House, Anyone?
June 21, 2007
I visited the Santa Maria di Loreto today, a beautiful stone church dedicated to the House of Mary (the Casa di Loreto). The church was a simple affair, with beautiful marble floors and remnants of a recent wedding. The chapel at the back had a stained glass window with a dove descending out of a cerulean sky, and I fell in love (pthelo, Mer?).
I found the legend of the Casa particularly fascinating. It holds that Mary and Joseph raised Jesus in a small, humble house in Nazareth. Three centuries later, Emperor Constantine built a basilica over it to honor and protect the abode. Threats from the crusades saw angels miraculously picking up the house and moving it to Romania in 1291. Muslim invasions caused the angels to move it again, this time to Italy, in 1294. A final move placed it in Loreto, Italy, where a startled parish priest saw it appear in an abandoned field. A vision of the Virgin telling him that it was her house caused him to venerate the site, and subsequent popes built basilicas over it to protect it.
Sounds like a load of nothing, right? Well, scientists have studied the composition of the house, and they have found two interesting things. Its materials are not found anywhere in this area--the building materials are those only found in the Middle East. Also, the house has absolutely no foundations in a place where buildings are liable to collapse without them. It truly looks as if it has just been plopped down on that spot and preserved. Maria di Loreto became the patron saint of pilots in the early 1900s in honor of the house's miraculous flights.
I love stories like this.
I visited the Santa Maria di Loreto today, a beautiful stone church dedicated to the House of Mary (the Casa di Loreto). The church was a simple affair, with beautiful marble floors and remnants of a recent wedding. The chapel at the back had a stained glass window with a dove descending out of a cerulean sky, and I fell in love (pthelo, Mer?).
I found the legend of the Casa particularly fascinating. It holds that Mary and Joseph raised Jesus in a small, humble house in Nazareth. Three centuries later, Emperor Constantine built a basilica over it to honor and protect the abode. Threats from the crusades saw angels miraculously picking up the house and moving it to Romania in 1291. Muslim invasions caused the angels to move it again, this time to Italy, in 1294. A final move placed it in Loreto, Italy, where a startled parish priest saw it appear in an abandoned field. A vision of the Virgin telling him that it was her house caused him to venerate the site, and subsequent popes built basilicas over it to protect it.
Sounds like a load of nothing, right? Well, scientists have studied the composition of the house, and they have found two interesting things. Its materials are not found anywhere in this area--the building materials are those only found in the Middle East. Also, the house has absolutely no foundations in a place where buildings are liable to collapse without them. It truly looks as if it has just been plopped down on that spot and preserved. Maria di Loreto became the patron saint of pilots in the early 1900s in honor of the house's miraculous flights.
I love stories like this.
It's...Naked Time!
June 20, 2007
I went to the pool in Lugano today, about a twenty minute walk from the Girasole residence where we're staying. The pool is, quite simply, awesome: it has lake access, restaurant/bar, a four-tiered diving board, two kiddy pools, a medium-sized swimming pool, and an olympic pool. It wasn't desperately crowded in the cool waters, and you wanna know why?
Because everybody and their GRANDPA is sitting in the park area, 98% naked and WAY more than I need to see! Lizzy and I were the ONLY two people under forty wearing one-piece bathing suits, and let me tell you that string bikinis are the DEVIL unless you are a negative zero in sizing. The men apparently find it fashionable to wear itty bitty speedos, including the oldest, frailest grandfathers I have ever seen. We sat in the pool for an hour and just watched the people walk by in their utter ridiculousness, occasionally gasping or cringing at the diving escapades of ten-year-old boys. I love Europe, don't get me wrong; it's a great place. However, surely these ancient civilizations have more sense than to walk around in pieces of STRING!
I went to the pool in Lugano today, about a twenty minute walk from the Girasole residence where we're staying. The pool is, quite simply, awesome: it has lake access, restaurant/bar, a four-tiered diving board, two kiddy pools, a medium-sized swimming pool, and an olympic pool. It wasn't desperately crowded in the cool waters, and you wanna know why?
Because everybody and their GRANDPA is sitting in the park area, 98% naked and WAY more than I need to see! Lizzy and I were the ONLY two people under forty wearing one-piece bathing suits, and let me tell you that string bikinis are the DEVIL unless you are a negative zero in sizing. The men apparently find it fashionable to wear itty bitty speedos, including the oldest, frailest grandfathers I have ever seen. We sat in the pool for an hour and just watched the people walk by in their utter ridiculousness, occasionally gasping or cringing at the diving escapades of ten-year-old boys. I love Europe, don't get me wrong; it's a great place. However, surely these ancient civilizations have more sense than to walk around in pieces of STRING!
When I Die, Cremate Me
June 19, 2007
Lugano is located on Lake Lugano in the Ticino Canton of Switzerland, the only Italian-speaking Canton in the country. We took a ferry to the another of the towns on the lake, a beautiful one named Morcote. It had actually been the most important city on the lake during the Middle Ages, but the Black Death killed everyone but seven families in the early 1400s, and the town never recovered. It remains a small, intimate place, with Patrician homes and cobbled alleyways everywhere. We got off the boat and, instead of exploring the hidden niches of the town, headed straight up the Biggest Staircase in the World (my poor calves!) to the Chiesa di Santa Maria dei Sasso, a beautiful renaissance church built where a man purportedly saw a vision of the Virgin Mary. The church was beautiful inside, with frescoes of female saints and beautiful marble mosaics on the floor. The baptistry was simple next door, the only true decoration being the elegant renaissance painting on the ceiling.
We headed to the cemetery next, but Brenda, Lizzy, and I found a secret staircase through an archway that Dr. O assured us would head straight into the cemetery. What she neglected to tell us, however, was that the staircase would head straight to the TOP of the cemetery--all the way to the ninth level (Dante, anyone?). That's right, this is a nine-level cemetery on the top of a mountain overlooking a lake. It's entirely pedestrian, and anytime someone is buried in one of the mausoleums, pallbearers have to cart that sucker up every staircase in existence to get there. I wouldn't do that to you guys--just cremate me and toss me in the lake. Expect the same treatment.
Lugano is located on Lake Lugano in the Ticino Canton of Switzerland, the only Italian-speaking Canton in the country. We took a ferry to the another of the towns on the lake, a beautiful one named Morcote. It had actually been the most important city on the lake during the Middle Ages, but the Black Death killed everyone but seven families in the early 1400s, and the town never recovered. It remains a small, intimate place, with Patrician homes and cobbled alleyways everywhere. We got off the boat and, instead of exploring the hidden niches of the town, headed straight up the Biggest Staircase in the World (my poor calves!) to the Chiesa di Santa Maria dei Sasso, a beautiful renaissance church built where a man purportedly saw a vision of the Virgin Mary. The church was beautiful inside, with frescoes of female saints and beautiful marble mosaics on the floor. The baptistry was simple next door, the only true decoration being the elegant renaissance painting on the ceiling.
We headed to the cemetery next, but Brenda, Lizzy, and I found a secret staircase through an archway that Dr. O assured us would head straight into the cemetery. What she neglected to tell us, however, was that the staircase would head straight to the TOP of the cemetery--all the way to the ninth level (Dante, anyone?). That's right, this is a nine-level cemetery on the top of a mountain overlooking a lake. It's entirely pedestrian, and anytime someone is buried in one of the mausoleums, pallbearers have to cart that sucker up every staircase in existence to get there. I wouldn't do that to you guys--just cremate me and toss me in the lake. Expect the same treatment.
lunedì 18 giugno 2007
Hiking for My Breakfast
June 18, 2007
We live in a residence of Franklin College near the lake of Lugano. It's a beautiful building, and I'm very thankful to live there--we even have AC! But could somebody tell me, please, why is it that I have to participate in a fifteen-minute hike up the side of a mountain to get any food or learn anything from class?! I'm pretty sure that I will not make it up the next one, but if you see a mound of panting floral prints and gaucho pants on the side of the road, just plop it in your car and take it to the cafeteria, cause it's me.
Franklin College is beautiful, but what a hike at 7:40 in the morning! We got our breakfast after I shoved my heaving lungs back in my body, and then we had library orientation and class. Computer time (thank the Lord, computers!) was followed by lunch, and then Bekah, Lizzy, and I went to the coop in the downtown area and grabbed some food for dinner. We stopped in at the San Angioli church, which has a massive anticlassicism painting by Luini. It's gorgeous, but it sure is distracting! In the far right chapel of the church, right by the altar, is a tiny area completely darkened from lack of lamps or sunlight. Bring a flashlight with you, because that insignificant area houses the skeleton of Saint Leo, still in his chain mail with his saint ointment by his side. I ended up showing some old German tourists the skeleton, and they exclaimed over it and smiled widely at me--we couldn't understand anything else. I got in my bones for the day!
Lizzy and I made cookies as an afternoon snack, and the professors have been in and out trying to steal them all day. I told them they could only have them if they gave me an A, but I don't think they believed me. Um, I'd like an A, hello! Penne alla Caprese is next on the menu if I can ever leave this computer, so you'll hear from me in the next few days!
We live in a residence of Franklin College near the lake of Lugano. It's a beautiful building, and I'm very thankful to live there--we even have AC! But could somebody tell me, please, why is it that I have to participate in a fifteen-minute hike up the side of a mountain to get any food or learn anything from class?! I'm pretty sure that I will not make it up the next one, but if you see a mound of panting floral prints and gaucho pants on the side of the road, just plop it in your car and take it to the cafeteria, cause it's me.
Franklin College is beautiful, but what a hike at 7:40 in the morning! We got our breakfast after I shoved my heaving lungs back in my body, and then we had library orientation and class. Computer time (thank the Lord, computers!) was followed by lunch, and then Bekah, Lizzy, and I went to the coop in the downtown area and grabbed some food for dinner. We stopped in at the San Angioli church, which has a massive anticlassicism painting by Luini. It's gorgeous, but it sure is distracting! In the far right chapel of the church, right by the altar, is a tiny area completely darkened from lack of lamps or sunlight. Bring a flashlight with you, because that insignificant area houses the skeleton of Saint Leo, still in his chain mail with his saint ointment by his side. I ended up showing some old German tourists the skeleton, and they exclaimed over it and smiled widely at me--we couldn't understand anything else. I got in my bones for the day!
Lizzy and I made cookies as an afternoon snack, and the professors have been in and out trying to steal them all day. I told them they could only have them if they gave me an A, but I don't think they believed me. Um, I'd like an A, hello! Penne alla Caprese is next on the menu if I can ever leave this computer, so you'll hear from me in the next few days!
Ho, Ho, Ho
June 17, 2007
Everyone else arrived today and chose their rooms, and Hillary became the fourth person in our area of the residence. We had promised Dr. Oatsvall that we would be the quiet corner, but we failed miserably in that respect. We made dinner and stole off each other's plates, we took crazy pictures for an hour or two, we told ridiculous stories and made up even more, and I taught Hillary how to play the Ho Ho Ho game.
If you've never played Ho, Ho, Ho, go grab a few friends and follow my instructions: everybody lie down on the floor with your head on another person's stomachs--one head per stomach. The first person says "Ho!" with as much gusto as possible, making her stomach bounce the friend's head up and down. The second person says "Ho! Ho!" and so on and so forth. The object is to make the other people laugh, and whoever laughs first fails. Let me just say that Bekah failed every single time.
Everyone else arrived today and chose their rooms, and Hillary became the fourth person in our area of the residence. We had promised Dr. Oatsvall that we would be the quiet corner, but we failed miserably in that respect. We made dinner and stole off each other's plates, we took crazy pictures for an hour or two, we told ridiculous stories and made up even more, and I taught Hillary how to play the Ho Ho Ho game.
If you've never played Ho, Ho, Ho, go grab a few friends and follow my instructions: everybody lie down on the floor with your head on another person's stomachs--one head per stomach. The first person says "Ho!" with as much gusto as possible, making her stomach bounce the friend's head up and down. The second person says "Ho! Ho!" and so on and so forth. The object is to make the other people laugh, and whoever laughs first fails. Let me just say that Bekah failed every single time.
Privacy Was Never So Sweet--Or So Lonely
June 16, 2007
We had reserved a place at the Hotel Primavera in Stressa, a beautiful Italian town on Lake Maggiore. However, my friend Lizzy had taken a tumble at Lake Como, and the hiking yesterday had her in tears because of her scoliosis. We ended up canceling our plans and heading straight to Lugano, and we've never been so happy with our flexibility before.
Dr. Oatsvall was able to let us into the rooms a day early so Lizzy could take her medicine and sleep off the pain, and I have the best room in the universe: a bed, a private bathroom, my own kitchen and desk, and my own veranda--holy cow! I made my own dinner last night (because everything in Lugano is ridiculously expensive, so I bought food from the BP and cooked), and I went to bed on my own time. However, it was really lonely--no Bekah to kick above me on the bunk bed, nobody to giggle with about nothing, just me and the bed and the ants. Ah, well. At least I've got the ants.
We had reserved a place at the Hotel Primavera in Stressa, a beautiful Italian town on Lake Maggiore. However, my friend Lizzy had taken a tumble at Lake Como, and the hiking yesterday had her in tears because of her scoliosis. We ended up canceling our plans and heading straight to Lugano, and we've never been so happy with our flexibility before.
Dr. Oatsvall was able to let us into the rooms a day early so Lizzy could take her medicine and sleep off the pain, and I have the best room in the universe: a bed, a private bathroom, my own kitchen and desk, and my own veranda--holy cow! I made my own dinner last night (because everything in Lugano is ridiculously expensive, so I bought food from the BP and cooked), and I went to bed on my own time. However, it was really lonely--no Bekah to kick above me on the bunk bed, nobody to giggle with about nothing, just me and the bed and the ants. Ah, well. At least I've got the ants.
Clouds Are Pretty--When You're Not INSIDE THEM!
June 15, 2007
Our agenda today was to hike up to Murren and then up a bit further to an even smaller town in the Alps, at about 6,000 feet. I had slathered myself in sunscreen and was prepared for a hot hike, but I opened up the window and--lo and behold--cloud comes in.
The clouds had drifted upward from Interlaken and had smothered us, and I didn't see the sun until about 9 pm. We hiked in the rain, looked at fat slugs in the rain, bought presents in the rain, and pretty much got soaked to the skin. My altitude sickness kicked in like nobody's business, however, and I could only hike up to Murren. I felt like my lungs were bursting and my heart was going to implode. I hopped on the furnicular with John Rose and the other gimps, and we took a lovely ride up to the top of the mountain before walking down a ways to the second hiking site. It was still raining and there wasn't a glacier in site, so Dr. Hartford bought us soup and hot chocolate, and we hid in there until time to hike down again. Cows and electric fences barred the way, but we manuevered and had a grand ol' time.
The sky cleared up around 9, after dinner was over and we had sung farewell to Walter. The sky turned robin's egg blue right behind the white peaks of the Alps, and we had 30 glorious seconds of photo opportunity before another cloud chased us back inside. And we thought NC weather was unpredictable!
Our agenda today was to hike up to Murren and then up a bit further to an even smaller town in the Alps, at about 6,000 feet. I had slathered myself in sunscreen and was prepared for a hot hike, but I opened up the window and--lo and behold--cloud comes in.
The clouds had drifted upward from Interlaken and had smothered us, and I didn't see the sun until about 9 pm. We hiked in the rain, looked at fat slugs in the rain, bought presents in the rain, and pretty much got soaked to the skin. My altitude sickness kicked in like nobody's business, however, and I could only hike up to Murren. I felt like my lungs were bursting and my heart was going to implode. I hopped on the furnicular with John Rose and the other gimps, and we took a lovely ride up to the top of the mountain before walking down a ways to the second hiking site. It was still raining and there wasn't a glacier in site, so Dr. Hartford bought us soup and hot chocolate, and we hid in there until time to hike down again. Cows and electric fences barred the way, but we manuevered and had a grand ol' time.
The sky cleared up around 9, after dinner was over and we had sung farewell to Walter. The sky turned robin's egg blue right behind the white peaks of the Alps, and we had 30 glorious seconds of photo opportunity before another cloud chased us back inside. And we thought NC weather was unpredictable!
Stricklands = Tardiness
June 14, 2007
So, nobody told us that Varenna doesn't exist as an actual train station anymore. The train stops there, sure, but only to go to Tirano or Milan--both the wrong way from where we needed to go. The station isn't actually open anymore, and you have to buy tickets from the conductors as soon as you get on the train. We ended up taking a train to Milan, then to Brig, then to somewhere else where somebody did something in history, and finally to Interlaken Ost. From Interlaken, where we stored our humongous bags, we took a small train to Lauterbrunnen, a bus to Stechelberg, and a gondola up a cliff face to the ridiculously tiny town of Gimmelwald.
Not Grindelwald, ladies and gentlemen. Gimmelwald.
It is an itty bitty town 4,600 feet in the Swiss Alps with about ten houses to its name. We stayed at Walter's Hotel, where the floors squeak and you have to pay to take a five-minute shower. It has wonderful charm, though, and I could look out from my balcony and see the most beautiful sites in the world. We were supposed to be there by five pm. My group, because it hadn't stayed in Interlaken the night before, got there around 7. Not bad! My sister, the previous Strickland, apparently didn't make it until the next day. Sorry, Mer, but I won! :D
So, nobody told us that Varenna doesn't exist as an actual train station anymore. The train stops there, sure, but only to go to Tirano or Milan--both the wrong way from where we needed to go. The station isn't actually open anymore, and you have to buy tickets from the conductors as soon as you get on the train. We ended up taking a train to Milan, then to Brig, then to somewhere else where somebody did something in history, and finally to Interlaken Ost. From Interlaken, where we stored our humongous bags, we took a small train to Lauterbrunnen, a bus to Stechelberg, and a gondola up a cliff face to the ridiculously tiny town of Gimmelwald.
Not Grindelwald, ladies and gentlemen. Gimmelwald.
It is an itty bitty town 4,600 feet in the Swiss Alps with about ten houses to its name. We stayed at Walter's Hotel, where the floors squeak and you have to pay to take a five-minute shower. It has wonderful charm, though, and I could look out from my balcony and see the most beautiful sites in the world. We were supposed to be there by five pm. My group, because it hadn't stayed in Interlaken the night before, got there around 7. Not bad! My sister, the previous Strickland, apparently didn't make it until the next day. Sorry, Mer, but I won! :D
George Clooney Lives Here!
June 13, 2007
I won't bore you with the details of our travels from Monterosso al Mare to Varenna, a small resort town on Lake Como, but I would like to point out that Italians ARE sometimes on time--the train pulled out of the Milano Centrale station as we were hobbling up to it, leaving us in the soot for another two hours.
The hotel was good, even if we did have to share a bathroom with the entire hall, including a couple on its honeymoon that thought they owned the bathroom. Lizzy and I went out for a look around, and it's no wonder that George Clooney lives in the area! The place is absolutely gorgeous, with mountains and glittering lakewater and carefully tended gardens and cobblestones everywhere you look. I also saw my first Italian ducks, and I kept hoping they would quack something in Italian. We've got the Aflak duck, so what have they got?
I won't bore you with the details of our travels from Monterosso al Mare to Varenna, a small resort town on Lake Como, but I would like to point out that Italians ARE sometimes on time--the train pulled out of the Milano Centrale station as we were hobbling up to it, leaving us in the soot for another two hours.
The hotel was good, even if we did have to share a bathroom with the entire hall, including a couple on its honeymoon that thought they owned the bathroom. Lizzy and I went out for a look around, and it's no wonder that George Clooney lives in the area! The place is absolutely gorgeous, with mountains and glittering lakewater and carefully tended gardens and cobblestones everywhere you look. I also saw my first Italian ducks, and I kept hoping they would quack something in Italian. We've got the Aflak duck, so what have they got?
TMI, Everyone!
June 12, 2007
Clouds made the morning an unreasonable time of day to jump in the sea, so we hiked up the mountain to the cemetery and poked around until lunch. After a lunch of Insalata di Mare (don't get that--it's a thin bed of lettuce covered in tentacles and squid. I'm good with it, but if you don't like things with suckers, then beware), we headed down to the beach and watched the sun come out. Time to swim!
Our art professor, Jamie Cuthrell, met us on the beach, and we joined up with some other Meredith girls for a fun swim. However, no one told us how pebbly that beach was going to be! It was ridiculously rocky, and they were just sharp enough to prick your feet without you needing a bandaid. Boy, did I feel that walk the next day! The water was cold, but it was immensely refreshing. The first few screeches got you into the freezing water, and the final screeches got you across the rocks to your towels.
My title comes from a rather ridiculous incident that occurred while I was in the water. Let me describe the scenic situation to you: we were at the free beach in front of the old town, and the beach is divided by a cliff into two coves. The cliff juts almost into the water, but you can access the second cove by walking in front of the rock. I was floating in the Ligurian, minding my own business, when three old men decided that the changing rooms were up too many flights of stairs (um, one) and that the cliff-face looked like a good place to hide. Before I could sew my eyes shut, they stood in front of the cliff, threw off their speedos, and took their sweet time drying every available part of them before laboriously getting dressed in regular clothes. AAAHHHHH!!!! Yes, I am officially scarred for life.
Shortly after my harrowing experience, we headed off the beach and back to our hotel room for steamy showers and the chance to dress up for a night on the town. Standing on our terrace, we were able to look over the entirety of the old town of Monterosso al Mare--and straight to the terrace of our professors! We realized it was them, all the way across town, and began waving until they noticed us. We then invited them to dinner with us, and we met them at a small restaurant off a side street.
I had the best pasta in the WORLD at this place, and everyone at the table was lusting after it the whole night. The description said "pasta with pear and cheese in chef's sauce." Okay, I thought. How often do you find pastas mixed with pear? I'll try it. It turned out to be handmade pasta filled with cooked pear and melted formaggio in a light butter sauce, and boy was it good! I would pay big bucks for somebody to come to my kitchen and cook that, let me tell you!
Clouds made the morning an unreasonable time of day to jump in the sea, so we hiked up the mountain to the cemetery and poked around until lunch. After a lunch of Insalata di Mare (don't get that--it's a thin bed of lettuce covered in tentacles and squid. I'm good with it, but if you don't like things with suckers, then beware), we headed down to the beach and watched the sun come out. Time to swim!
Our art professor, Jamie Cuthrell, met us on the beach, and we joined up with some other Meredith girls for a fun swim. However, no one told us how pebbly that beach was going to be! It was ridiculously rocky, and they were just sharp enough to prick your feet without you needing a bandaid. Boy, did I feel that walk the next day! The water was cold, but it was immensely refreshing. The first few screeches got you into the freezing water, and the final screeches got you across the rocks to your towels.
My title comes from a rather ridiculous incident that occurred while I was in the water. Let me describe the scenic situation to you: we were at the free beach in front of the old town, and the beach is divided by a cliff into two coves. The cliff juts almost into the water, but you can access the second cove by walking in front of the rock. I was floating in the Ligurian, minding my own business, when three old men decided that the changing rooms were up too many flights of stairs (um, one) and that the cliff-face looked like a good place to hide. Before I could sew my eyes shut, they stood in front of the cliff, threw off their speedos, and took their sweet time drying every available part of them before laboriously getting dressed in regular clothes. AAAHHHHH!!!! Yes, I am officially scarred for life.
Shortly after my harrowing experience, we headed off the beach and back to our hotel room for steamy showers and the chance to dress up for a night on the town. Standing on our terrace, we were able to look over the entirety of the old town of Monterosso al Mare--and straight to the terrace of our professors! We realized it was them, all the way across town, and began waving until they noticed us. We then invited them to dinner with us, and we met them at a small restaurant off a side street.
I had the best pasta in the WORLD at this place, and everyone at the table was lusting after it the whole night. The description said "pasta with pear and cheese in chef's sauce." Okay, I thought. How often do you find pastas mixed with pear? I'll try it. It turned out to be handmade pasta filled with cooked pear and melted formaggio in a light butter sauce, and boy was it good! I would pay big bucks for somebody to come to my kitchen and cook that, let me tell you!
Ciao, Sansepolcro!
June 11, 2007
Farewell, Sansepolcro!
Classes, packing, and lunch preceded heavy bus and train delays. We had about fifty pounds on our backs, and we left Sansepolcro for good and began making our way to Switzerland. Sansepolcro was definitely home for me, and it was hard to see it go.
We eventually arrived in Monterosso al Mare, the fifth town of Cinque Terre. We stayed at the Hotel Souvenir, and they gave us a five-person room with a bathroom and a terrace the size of a house for 75 euros a night! SWEET! Cinque Terre is beautiful, five small towns where the mountains meet the Ligurian Sea. Monterosso is the beachiest town, and we made full use of it--as you'll read on the next segment of..."What Trouble Can Joy Get Into Today!"
Farewell, Sansepolcro!
Classes, packing, and lunch preceded heavy bus and train delays. We had about fifty pounds on our backs, and we left Sansepolcro for good and began making our way to Switzerland. Sansepolcro was definitely home for me, and it was hard to see it go.
We eventually arrived in Monterosso al Mare, the fifth town of Cinque Terre. We stayed at the Hotel Souvenir, and they gave us a five-person room with a bathroom and a terrace the size of a house for 75 euros a night! SWEET! Cinque Terre is beautiful, five small towns where the mountains meet the Ligurian Sea. Monterosso is the beachiest town, and we made full use of it--as you'll read on the next segment of..."What Trouble Can Joy Get Into Today!"
Medieval Tuscan Feasts (a.k.a., I Will Not Cry)
June 10, 2007
Dr. Webb drove four of us to Monte Cassali at 7:30 in the morning, and you had better believe that I was in the back of that car as soon as she pulled out of the driveway. Monte Cassali is a small monastery/church high in the Tuscan hillside, where St. Francis slept on a stone slab during his more ascetic years. The chapel is miniscule but beautiful, with a mosaic tympanum on the inside of the door. A monk turned on the light for us in the side room, and we saw the three stone stairs leading to the slab of rock that was Francis' bed. Um, ouch?
Classes, mass, lunch, and more class followed, and then President Hartford took several of us to the Palazzo Alberti, an old palace right on the Via XX Septembre street (mainstreet). This is where future Meredith students will stay when participating in the new semester-long Sansepolcro study abroad session. It won't be ready until after I graduate, but I offered to act as a test case for the building. You know, sacrifice for the good of all, that's me. ;) The building doesn't have much, yet, but it's large and spacious, and you can already envision Meredith girls cooking, learning, laughing, and having the time of their lives in the rooms. The best part is that the construction workers are uncovering original frescoes throughout the building, and the main room has a huge ceiling fresco by the Albertis. Lovely!
Our final family dinner occurred tonight, and Marguerita went above and beyond anything I have ever seen before. She decorated the fifteenth-century Servi in medieval banners, flowers, and candlelight, which highlighted the original fresco tympanums along the walls and made the entire place glow with warmth. Women in renaissance costumes greeted the guests, and we were dressed in our finery to do the same--I wore my last piece of clean clothing, a beautiful dress my mother bought me (thanks, Mom!). Luigina and Roberto met us inside, and they gave us the most wonderful present--Piero della Francesca's Madonna della Miseraccordia on burlap, which I had been eyeing heavily at the Museo Civico. It's absolutely beautiful!
The dinner was amazing, a multi-course medieval feast typical of wealthy Tuscan aristocrats. We had several courses, which I shall be happy to list for you and make you salivate with jealousy (*smirk*): fresh vegetables, meats, and breads; hearty soup; pasta with meat that reminded us heavily of fresh chicken and dumplings; grilled, spiced onions with pork in a rich sauce; and a fruity cake, dipped in Vinsanto, the Tuscan wine of the saints. Jealous? Don't deny!
Renaissance dancing followed, accompanied by gift-giving and the traditional singing of the Meredith girls. We sang "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee," "Lean on Me," and "Carolina Girls." The last song definitely got a few ladies teary. I didn't want to leave my host family, and neither did Jen. We held up our facades long enough to bid Roberto and Luigina farewell, and then we both got teary and had to hide in a corner for a few minutes for it to pass. I miss them already, and it hasn't even been long!
Dr. Webb drove four of us to Monte Cassali at 7:30 in the morning, and you had better believe that I was in the back of that car as soon as she pulled out of the driveway. Monte Cassali is a small monastery/church high in the Tuscan hillside, where St. Francis slept on a stone slab during his more ascetic years. The chapel is miniscule but beautiful, with a mosaic tympanum on the inside of the door. A monk turned on the light for us in the side room, and we saw the three stone stairs leading to the slab of rock that was Francis' bed. Um, ouch?
Classes, mass, lunch, and more class followed, and then President Hartford took several of us to the Palazzo Alberti, an old palace right on the Via XX Septembre street (mainstreet). This is where future Meredith students will stay when participating in the new semester-long Sansepolcro study abroad session. It won't be ready until after I graduate, but I offered to act as a test case for the building. You know, sacrifice for the good of all, that's me. ;) The building doesn't have much, yet, but it's large and spacious, and you can already envision Meredith girls cooking, learning, laughing, and having the time of their lives in the rooms. The best part is that the construction workers are uncovering original frescoes throughout the building, and the main room has a huge ceiling fresco by the Albertis. Lovely!
Our final family dinner occurred tonight, and Marguerita went above and beyond anything I have ever seen before. She decorated the fifteenth-century Servi in medieval banners, flowers, and candlelight, which highlighted the original fresco tympanums along the walls and made the entire place glow with warmth. Women in renaissance costumes greeted the guests, and we were dressed in our finery to do the same--I wore my last piece of clean clothing, a beautiful dress my mother bought me (thanks, Mom!). Luigina and Roberto met us inside, and they gave us the most wonderful present--Piero della Francesca's Madonna della Miseraccordia on burlap, which I had been eyeing heavily at the Museo Civico. It's absolutely beautiful!
The dinner was amazing, a multi-course medieval feast typical of wealthy Tuscan aristocrats. We had several courses, which I shall be happy to list for you and make you salivate with jealousy (*smirk*): fresh vegetables, meats, and breads; hearty soup; pasta with meat that reminded us heavily of fresh chicken and dumplings; grilled, spiced onions with pork in a rich sauce; and a fruity cake, dipped in Vinsanto, the Tuscan wine of the saints. Jealous? Don't deny!
Renaissance dancing followed, accompanied by gift-giving and the traditional singing of the Meredith girls. We sang "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee," "Lean on Me," and "Carolina Girls." The last song definitely got a few ladies teary. I didn't want to leave my host family, and neither did Jen. We held up our facades long enough to bid Roberto and Luigina farewell, and then we both got teary and had to hide in a corner for a few minutes for it to pass. I miss them already, and it hasn't even been long!
Decapitated Heads
June 9, 2007
Rick Steves says that "Siena seems to be every Italy connoisseur's favorite pet town."
For those of you who don't know (me included until I read Rick Steves), Siena was Florence's archrival during the Middle Ages. Its population of 60,000 people put it larger than Paris during the fourteenth century. However, the Black Death of 1348 ravaged the town and killed more than a third of the population. Florence conquered the city in the 1550s, and "its political and economic irrelevance pickled the city in a purely medieval brine." In other words, the city is perfect--as beautiful as Florence, it has only 60,000 people compared to Florence's 420,000. It IS Florence, just without the crowds.
We hopped on a bus at eight and headed the two hours to Siena, where we took in the Piazza Il Campo, the Duomo, the Museo dell'Opera, the crypt, the Baptistry, and the Chiesa di San Domenico. The Piazza is where the crayon gets the name "Burnt Siena"--the bricks are the same color of the city's soil. Within the piazza (the most beautiful square in Europe, according to Rick) is the Fonte Gaia, the Fountain of Joy (you know it!). It supposedly inspired Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling, especially where God reaches out to Adam.
The Duomo is the most beautiful church I have ever seen in my life. Made of marbles in whites and deep greens, the walls reach high above your head and the beautiful floor has reliefs depicting New Testament scenes, allegories, and other stories. Along the nave's upper part are the heads of 172 popes peering down at the crowds (however, the same four faces are repeated over and over again--somebody got lazy!). Florence may be the home of Renaissance art, but Siena also houses works by Michelangelo, Bernini, Donatello, and Duccio. Pretty awesome!
The Museo wasn't anything spectacular, except for the understated doorway at the end of the Byzantine statues room--it leads up a teeny tiny staircase onto a spectacular walkway with a view of the entire city. Don't ignore the staircase, because it is definitely one of the most rewarding things in Siena. The crypt was worthless and the Baptistry had incense in it that would give a man with a cold a migraine, so we left those pretty quick.
Becca Lewis, an English major at Meredith, met us in Siena for the afternoon. She had spent a semester in Ferrara, and her host family hooked her up with a family about 2 hours from Siena. She now lives in a castle and teaches the family English. Um, can I have that job? Please? She had coffee and gelato with us, and she took us to the Chiesa di San Domenico, which houses the head of St. Catherine. St. Catherine is the patron saint of Europe because she brought Pope Gregory XI back from Avignon to Rome and healed the Great Schism. Born to a Sienese cloth dyer, she was the youngest of twenty-five children (ouch!), and she became a nun at the age of sixteen after having spiritual visions. She received stigmata during Lent in 1375. The Chiesa now houses her thumb, the chain she used to flagellate herself, and her head. The head sits in the back of a small side chapel, a light underneath illuminating how small and odd the thing looks. It just sits there, harmlessly and rather creepily, and tour groups huddle around it in fascination as little boys try to jump over the railing and get smacked on the head. I amused myself for a good few minutes watching them and the head.
If you ever go to Italy, you have to visit Siena. Wear good shoes, though--the place is as hilly as Anghiari and not nearly so small.
Rick Steves says that "Siena seems to be every Italy connoisseur's favorite pet town."
For those of you who don't know (me included until I read Rick Steves), Siena was Florence's archrival during the Middle Ages. Its population of 60,000 people put it larger than Paris during the fourteenth century. However, the Black Death of 1348 ravaged the town and killed more than a third of the population. Florence conquered the city in the 1550s, and "its political and economic irrelevance pickled the city in a purely medieval brine." In other words, the city is perfect--as beautiful as Florence, it has only 60,000 people compared to Florence's 420,000. It IS Florence, just without the crowds.
We hopped on a bus at eight and headed the two hours to Siena, where we took in the Piazza Il Campo, the Duomo, the Museo dell'Opera, the crypt, the Baptistry, and the Chiesa di San Domenico. The Piazza is where the crayon gets the name "Burnt Siena"--the bricks are the same color of the city's soil. Within the piazza (the most beautiful square in Europe, according to Rick) is the Fonte Gaia, the Fountain of Joy (you know it!). It supposedly inspired Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling, especially where God reaches out to Adam.
The Duomo is the most beautiful church I have ever seen in my life. Made of marbles in whites and deep greens, the walls reach high above your head and the beautiful floor has reliefs depicting New Testament scenes, allegories, and other stories. Along the nave's upper part are the heads of 172 popes peering down at the crowds (however, the same four faces are repeated over and over again--somebody got lazy!). Florence may be the home of Renaissance art, but Siena also houses works by Michelangelo, Bernini, Donatello, and Duccio. Pretty awesome!
The Museo wasn't anything spectacular, except for the understated doorway at the end of the Byzantine statues room--it leads up a teeny tiny staircase onto a spectacular walkway with a view of the entire city. Don't ignore the staircase, because it is definitely one of the most rewarding things in Siena. The crypt was worthless and the Baptistry had incense in it that would give a man with a cold a migraine, so we left those pretty quick.
Becca Lewis, an English major at Meredith, met us in Siena for the afternoon. She had spent a semester in Ferrara, and her host family hooked her up with a family about 2 hours from Siena. She now lives in a castle and teaches the family English. Um, can I have that job? Please? She had coffee and gelato with us, and she took us to the Chiesa di San Domenico, which houses the head of St. Catherine. St. Catherine is the patron saint of Europe because she brought Pope Gregory XI back from Avignon to Rome and healed the Great Schism. Born to a Sienese cloth dyer, she was the youngest of twenty-five children (ouch!), and she became a nun at the age of sixteen after having spiritual visions. She received stigmata during Lent in 1375. The Chiesa now houses her thumb, the chain she used to flagellate herself, and her head. The head sits in the back of a small side chapel, a light underneath illuminating how small and odd the thing looks. It just sits there, harmlessly and rather creepily, and tour groups huddle around it in fascination as little boys try to jump over the railing and get smacked on the head. I amused myself for a good few minutes watching them and the head.
If you ever go to Italy, you have to visit Siena. Wear good shoes, though--the place is as hilly as Anghiari and not nearly so small.
I Love My Host Family!
June 8, 2007
Um, have I mentioned that Italian is not my forte? This was brought home to me by the most amazing host grandmother in the world. Luigina picked us up and drove us back to her home for our third family dinner, and she graciously reminded me how to spell her name correctly. Hey, even English majors need spelling help.
Jen and I joined together and bought Luigina flowers, and we presented them to her before she went inside; we offered to watch Andrea while Matteo and Loredana were at work, and Roberto got into every mischief available. Andrea, Luigina's seventeen-month-old grandson, is just about the cutest boy I have ever seen in my life. He ran after a soccer ball for close to forty-five mintues, and when he got tired of that he drew all over a table with his crayons set.
Luigina had fixed a feast! Our first course was delicious marinara ravioli, and we ate with gusto. This was followed by crostinis and several different types of kabobs: pomodoro e mozzarella; pear e formaggio; bread with meat; and cantaloupe e prosciutto. Delicious! Luigina had taken a class at Casa Buitoni, and she had learned how to make the bread with meat kabob there--it was thin bread and beef wrapped together around the stick and crisped to perfection, and I licked my fingers clean at the end. All this wonderful goodness was crowned with a pie made by Loredana's mother, and I savored the sweetness.
We had spent an evening filled with laughter, and Jen and I were getting ready to go when Luigina pulled out two videos. She showed us two of Clara's band recitals before she passed, and she played beautifully--she had a couple of flute solos that I would have loved to have on CD, she was so good. Clara was absolutely beautiful, with chestnut hair and pale skin that shone in the stage lights. She was very unassuming in the videos, but her talents as a flutist put her in centerstage.
Accompanying these performances was a video of Luigina and Roberto's wedding!!! It was gorgeous, and the video was really elegant--it showed pictures and clips of the wedding and reception, joined by upbeat music that emphasized the happiness of the day. This was followed by several short clips of Luigina and Roberto with young Clara and Matteo, and Matteo looked EXACTLY like Andrea was now--ADORABLE!!!!!!
Um, can I keep them? I miss them already!
Um, have I mentioned that Italian is not my forte? This was brought home to me by the most amazing host grandmother in the world. Luigina picked us up and drove us back to her home for our third family dinner, and she graciously reminded me how to spell her name correctly. Hey, even English majors need spelling help.
Jen and I joined together and bought Luigina flowers, and we presented them to her before she went inside; we offered to watch Andrea while Matteo and Loredana were at work, and Roberto got into every mischief available. Andrea, Luigina's seventeen-month-old grandson, is just about the cutest boy I have ever seen in my life. He ran after a soccer ball for close to forty-five mintues, and when he got tired of that he drew all over a table with his crayons set.
Luigina had fixed a feast! Our first course was delicious marinara ravioli, and we ate with gusto. This was followed by crostinis and several different types of kabobs: pomodoro e mozzarella; pear e formaggio; bread with meat; and cantaloupe e prosciutto. Delicious! Luigina had taken a class at Casa Buitoni, and she had learned how to make the bread with meat kabob there--it was thin bread and beef wrapped together around the stick and crisped to perfection, and I licked my fingers clean at the end. All this wonderful goodness was crowned with a pie made by Loredana's mother, and I savored the sweetness.
We had spent an evening filled with laughter, and Jen and I were getting ready to go when Luigina pulled out two videos. She showed us two of Clara's band recitals before she passed, and she played beautifully--she had a couple of flute solos that I would have loved to have on CD, she was so good. Clara was absolutely beautiful, with chestnut hair and pale skin that shone in the stage lights. She was very unassuming in the videos, but her talents as a flutist put her in centerstage.
Accompanying these performances was a video of Luigina and Roberto's wedding!!! It was gorgeous, and the video was really elegant--it showed pictures and clips of the wedding and reception, joined by upbeat music that emphasized the happiness of the day. This was followed by several short clips of Luigina and Roberto with young Clara and Matteo, and Matteo looked EXACTLY like Andrea was now--ADORABLE!!!!!!
Um, can I keep them? I miss them already!
Umbrellas and One-Legged Pigeons
June 7, 2007
The trains from Verona back to Sansepolcro were hectic and full of adventures, which I won't get into now--needless to say, they involved gypsies, stinky breaks, and the longest arm hair I have ever seen on a woman (*full body shudder*). However, there is one character I met on the journey about whom I would like to tell.
We named him Pinocchio, but for no specific reason; it just seemed like a funny name after four hours on a stuffy train. He was balding and fat, rather squat, and his head bobbed as he jumped around. He was a grey pigeon, covered in the dirt of the train station and the squalor of his kind--and he had only one leg. We figure it got ripped off by a passing train or a cleaning machine, or maybe he was a daredevil who took it too far one day. Needless to say, he hopped around on that one leg like he owned the place.
Hillary was fascinated by him and wanted to reward his amazing survival skills, so she dug half a tuna sandwich from the trashcan that she had just thrown away and threw it at him. He jumped over to it and began digging in, but he wasn't the only one impressed by her generosity. Every pigeon in the Bologna Centrale station hopped onto our end of the platform and began shoving Pinocchio out of the way in an effort to grab hold of that sandwich and feast. There's a reason that bird has survived so long with only one leg, though--he's got more brains than your average featherhead. He would rip off large chunks of the sandwich and, anytime a bird got too close, he would fling it in the opposite direction and every pigeon in the vicinity would follow it, leaving him to his large piece of bread, fish, and mayonaisse. Yeah, Pinocchio!
Our train eventually arrived in Arezzo, and an ocean had begun to pour itself on our heads, our bags, our everything. It was ridiculous! We hauled buggy to the bus and hopped on, and Hillary, Bekah, and I snagged the back five seats. It was only once the bus had begun to move, however, that we realized our problem: the ceiling emergency exit door leaked right on us. Other Meredith girls in the front of the bus had the same problem, and they squealed and hid underneath their rainjackets. Hillary is a certified genius, however, and she opened up her umbrella (does a bus count as inside?) and wedged it between the overhead compartments, and we had a mini-ceiling that kept us dry for the hour-ride home. The whole situation could have turned out terribly--the girls could have complained about the state of Italian buses, which would have made the Italians on the bus angry, and we could have offended a whole nation over a bus and some water. Our humorous look at the situation created comraderie with the Italians, however, and the whole bus had a wonderful ride home as we laughed at ourselves and each other.
When it Italy, remember to smile--it's the most effective language out there.
The trains from Verona back to Sansepolcro were hectic and full of adventures, which I won't get into now--needless to say, they involved gypsies, stinky breaks, and the longest arm hair I have ever seen on a woman (*full body shudder*). However, there is one character I met on the journey about whom I would like to tell.
We named him Pinocchio, but for no specific reason; it just seemed like a funny name after four hours on a stuffy train. He was balding and fat, rather squat, and his head bobbed as he jumped around. He was a grey pigeon, covered in the dirt of the train station and the squalor of his kind--and he had only one leg. We figure it got ripped off by a passing train or a cleaning machine, or maybe he was a daredevil who took it too far one day. Needless to say, he hopped around on that one leg like he owned the place.
Hillary was fascinated by him and wanted to reward his amazing survival skills, so she dug half a tuna sandwich from the trashcan that she had just thrown away and threw it at him. He jumped over to it and began digging in, but he wasn't the only one impressed by her generosity. Every pigeon in the Bologna Centrale station hopped onto our end of the platform and began shoving Pinocchio out of the way in an effort to grab hold of that sandwich and feast. There's a reason that bird has survived so long with only one leg, though--he's got more brains than your average featherhead. He would rip off large chunks of the sandwich and, anytime a bird got too close, he would fling it in the opposite direction and every pigeon in the vicinity would follow it, leaving him to his large piece of bread, fish, and mayonaisse. Yeah, Pinocchio!
Our train eventually arrived in Arezzo, and an ocean had begun to pour itself on our heads, our bags, our everything. It was ridiculous! We hauled buggy to the bus and hopped on, and Hillary, Bekah, and I snagged the back five seats. It was only once the bus had begun to move, however, that we realized our problem: the ceiling emergency exit door leaked right on us. Other Meredith girls in the front of the bus had the same problem, and they squealed and hid underneath their rainjackets. Hillary is a certified genius, however, and she opened up her umbrella (does a bus count as inside?) and wedged it between the overhead compartments, and we had a mini-ceiling that kept us dry for the hour-ride home. The whole situation could have turned out terribly--the girls could have complained about the state of Italian buses, which would have made the Italians on the bus angry, and we could have offended a whole nation over a bus and some water. Our humorous look at the situation created comraderie with the Italians, however, and the whole bus had a wonderful ride home as we laughed at ourselves and each other.
When it Italy, remember to smile--it's the most effective language out there.
Mecca for English Majors
June 6, 2007
Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene...
We certainly laid our scene today in the beautiful and not-so-touristy town of Verona today, which I recommend highly if you want a lovely side trip from Venice. Hillary and Bekah weren't feeling well, so Crystal and I headed out after a sumptuous buffet breakfast for some sightseeing. Bus 13 took us to Piazza Bra, where we visited the Arena.
Built in 1 AD, the Verona Arena was the third largest in the Roman world, its 466X400ft body made up of pink marble. It held 25,000 spectators, and it's still used today for concerts and performances. We hiked to the top and walked along its rim, capturing some stunning views of the town on our cameras. After an interesting method of getting down (Joy doesn't do heights, so sitting and scooting seemed to be the best bet), we headed down the Via Mazzini, the shopping district, got lost, and headed back through the Piazza to the Via Roma.
Via Roma is a street just beyond the river-front, and we headed into the Chiesa di San Lorenzo. It had heavy Romanesque architecture and beautiful golden candelabras, but the best part of the excursion was meeting two Canadian women who wanted to go home with us when they found out we had the movie Casanova. We smiled politely and refused, practically fleeing when they wouldn't leave us alone. Just a little ways down the street is the Castelvecchio, a castle built from 1343-1356 by the della Scala family as a residence and a fortress. The bottom floor housed early Christian statues and sculptures, and the second floor presented late medieval and early renaissance paintings. I wasn't particularly impressed with the artwork, but Crystal and I had fun trying to sneak pictures when we weren't supposed to--we're so easily amused :)
We met up with Hillary and Bekah in the Piazza Bra after sharing a bench with two old German women and a ton of pigeons attempting their mating dances, and we ate at a self-serve restaurant that reminded me highly of an Italian K&S (fond memories, Granddaddy). We shopped in a tiny open-air market at the Piazza Erbe, which has a high arch famous for the whale bone dangling from it. It has been hanging there for 1,000 years, apparently, and it will only fall when someone who has never lied walks beneath it. It sure stayed up when we went under it!
Juliet's house was next on our list, and it was kind of a disappointment except for the Juliet statue where you rub her right breast for romantic luck (the men sure enjoyed that one) and the Greek man inside who wouldn't stop taking our pictures. He was hilarious! He took our picture with a bust of Shakespeare, at first, and he kissed me on the cheek when I offered to take one of him with his wife. The second floor of the house has Juliet's balcony, and he kicked everyone off so he could take a picture of us on there. The rest of the house had dinky little paintings and a couple of costumes, so not too much to see. If you're reading this, Catherine, then we got a couple of pictures of gnomes for you there! (though I don't know why there were gnomes in Juliet's house...)
Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene...
We certainly laid our scene today in the beautiful and not-so-touristy town of Verona today, which I recommend highly if you want a lovely side trip from Venice. Hillary and Bekah weren't feeling well, so Crystal and I headed out after a sumptuous buffet breakfast for some sightseeing. Bus 13 took us to Piazza Bra, where we visited the Arena.
Built in 1 AD, the Verona Arena was the third largest in the Roman world, its 466X400ft body made up of pink marble. It held 25,000 spectators, and it's still used today for concerts and performances. We hiked to the top and walked along its rim, capturing some stunning views of the town on our cameras. After an interesting method of getting down (Joy doesn't do heights, so sitting and scooting seemed to be the best bet), we headed down the Via Mazzini, the shopping district, got lost, and headed back through the Piazza to the Via Roma.
Via Roma is a street just beyond the river-front, and we headed into the Chiesa di San Lorenzo. It had heavy Romanesque architecture and beautiful golden candelabras, but the best part of the excursion was meeting two Canadian women who wanted to go home with us when they found out we had the movie Casanova. We smiled politely and refused, practically fleeing when they wouldn't leave us alone. Just a little ways down the street is the Castelvecchio, a castle built from 1343-1356 by the della Scala family as a residence and a fortress. The bottom floor housed early Christian statues and sculptures, and the second floor presented late medieval and early renaissance paintings. I wasn't particularly impressed with the artwork, but Crystal and I had fun trying to sneak pictures when we weren't supposed to--we're so easily amused :)
We met up with Hillary and Bekah in the Piazza Bra after sharing a bench with two old German women and a ton of pigeons attempting their mating dances, and we ate at a self-serve restaurant that reminded me highly of an Italian K&S (fond memories, Granddaddy). We shopped in a tiny open-air market at the Piazza Erbe, which has a high arch famous for the whale bone dangling from it. It has been hanging there for 1,000 years, apparently, and it will only fall when someone who has never lied walks beneath it. It sure stayed up when we went under it!
Juliet's house was next on our list, and it was kind of a disappointment except for the Juliet statue where you rub her right breast for romantic luck (the men sure enjoyed that one) and the Greek man inside who wouldn't stop taking our pictures. He was hilarious! He took our picture with a bust of Shakespeare, at first, and he kissed me on the cheek when I offered to take one of him with his wife. The second floor of the house has Juliet's balcony, and he kicked everyone off so he could take a picture of us on there. The rest of the house had dinky little paintings and a couple of costumes, so not too much to see. If you're reading this, Catherine, then we got a couple of pictures of gnomes for you there! (though I don't know why there were gnomes in Juliet's house...)
sabato 9 giugno 2007
Four Women of Verona
June 5, 2007
"Joy, you're snoring. Turn over. No, don't go back to sleep--turn over. By the way, my lymph nodes are swollen and there are white spots on the back of my throat. I think I've got strep."
Hillary woke me up at three AM with that statement, at which I thought, "Oh no, I'm going to be up all night worryi--zzzzzzzz." The next morning, it was more than apparent that she was sick. However, how do you get antibiotics in a foreign country where nobody speaks your language?
We tried to find Mr. Grumpy-Pants for help, but instead we ran into the hotel housekeeper, a lovely older woman whose enthusiasm for spoiling people was quite welcome after the night before. She brought us breakfast and, upon hearing that Hillary was sick, declared herself Hillary's "nonna" (grandmother) and checked her for fever, sweating, etc. She couldn't speak English, but these are the times that kind actions speak far, far louder than words.
We couldn't get a doctor through the health insurance, so Crystal went downstairs to ask Mr. Grumpy-Pants for help. He promptly informed her that pharmacists are actually doctors in Italy, and he took her to a nearby farmacia for help. She just told them Hillary's symptoms, and they gave her amoxicyllin for only 5 €! That would never have happened in the US, but we sure were glad for it!
Room checkout was at 10:30, and we were out of there by 10. We then hopped on a vaporetto, a water-bus, and cruised down the Grand Canal to Piazza San Marco. The square hadn't changed much--pigeons jumped on people, tourists flocked everywhere, and pickpockets flocked after the tourists. We visited San Marco's Basilica, filled with gold mosaics made from stolen goods, and shopped for a bit behind the square. Hillary was feeling worse, so we headed back to the station and hopped on the train to Verona.
Verona was LOVELY!!!! I recommend it as a must-see place for anyone interested in Italy. It was just a larger Sansepolcro, to be honest, and I loved it. We stayed at the Hotel Brandoli, which I'm naming because I recommend it to everyone. A quick jaunt on Bus 13 gets you there, and it's in one of the outlying neighborhoods of Verona. It was like an American hotel, and after Mr. Grumpy-Pants I couldn't be more excited. Air conditioning! Extra blankets! TOWELS!!!!! We ate a delicious meal in the hotel restaurant and, after some wonderful showers, hunkered down for some much-deserved rest.
Hillary the Ill was out cold by 8 pm.
"Joy, you're snoring. Turn over. No, don't go back to sleep--turn over. By the way, my lymph nodes are swollen and there are white spots on the back of my throat. I think I've got strep."
Hillary woke me up at three AM with that statement, at which I thought, "Oh no, I'm going to be up all night worryi--zzzzzzzz." The next morning, it was more than apparent that she was sick. However, how do you get antibiotics in a foreign country where nobody speaks your language?
We tried to find Mr. Grumpy-Pants for help, but instead we ran into the hotel housekeeper, a lovely older woman whose enthusiasm for spoiling people was quite welcome after the night before. She brought us breakfast and, upon hearing that Hillary was sick, declared herself Hillary's "nonna" (grandmother) and checked her for fever, sweating, etc. She couldn't speak English, but these are the times that kind actions speak far, far louder than words.
We couldn't get a doctor through the health insurance, so Crystal went downstairs to ask Mr. Grumpy-Pants for help. He promptly informed her that pharmacists are actually doctors in Italy, and he took her to a nearby farmacia for help. She just told them Hillary's symptoms, and they gave her amoxicyllin for only 5 €! That would never have happened in the US, but we sure were glad for it!
Room checkout was at 10:30, and we were out of there by 10. We then hopped on a vaporetto, a water-bus, and cruised down the Grand Canal to Piazza San Marco. The square hadn't changed much--pigeons jumped on people, tourists flocked everywhere, and pickpockets flocked after the tourists. We visited San Marco's Basilica, filled with gold mosaics made from stolen goods, and shopped for a bit behind the square. Hillary was feeling worse, so we headed back to the station and hopped on the train to Verona.
Verona was LOVELY!!!! I recommend it as a must-see place for anyone interested in Italy. It was just a larger Sansepolcro, to be honest, and I loved it. We stayed at the Hotel Brandoli, which I'm naming because I recommend it to everyone. A quick jaunt on Bus 13 gets you there, and it's in one of the outlying neighborhoods of Verona. It was like an American hotel, and after Mr. Grumpy-Pants I couldn't be more excited. Air conditioning! Extra blankets! TOWELS!!!!! We ate a delicious meal in the hotel restaurant and, after some wonderful showers, hunkered down for some much-deserved rest.
Hillary the Ill was out cold by 8 pm.
Mr. Grumpy-Pants
June 4, 2007
I had visited Venice in the summer of 2005 with a group of fellow Millbrook High graduates. We were there for an afternoon, hitting St. Mark's Square and cruising on the vaporetti. I remembered the city fondly, and couldn't wait to return.
I could have waited.
After a long day on delayed buses and trains from Sansepolcro to Arezzo to Bologna to Venice, we stepped off the train at the Santa Lucia station at almost 9 pm. The lady at the information desk helped us buy a map and showed us where our hotel was on there, and we headed out into Venice proper. A canal sits right in front of the station, with a large white bridge arching over its green waters and gondolas and vaporetti lining its sides. The ancient buildings were beautiful, their facades slightly dirty but still splendid in their elegance.
We stepped over the bridge, darting past pushy men who tried to sell stolen Louis Vitton purses, and headed for our hotel--problem was, we couldn't find it. After perhaps half an hour of wandering Venezia's confusing streets, we called the hotel manager and let him know we were lost. He promptly began yelling at us and telling us to stay put, that he would find us a bring us back. Excuse me?! Four girls, tired and alone in a confusing city, with a strange man looking for us--we'd never seen him, he'd never seen us. This didn't sound like a smart plan.
He had told us the hotel was not five minutes from where we were, but he didn't show even fifteen minutes after the phonecall. Feeling mightily abandoned, we ended up asking some waiters for directions, and we found it tucked away in a back alley. The hotel itself was absolutely beautiful, but there was no hotel manager! Turns out he HAD gone out looking for us, but our paths never crossed.
We went back to the mouth of the alley to wait for the mysterious concierge, and a tall, lanky, older man in a powder-blue jacket came upon us. His long face was made longer by his scowl, and he spoke to us sarcastically, presuming that we had tricked him into coming to look for us. He then proceeded to curse us in Italian and, after letting us into the hotel, BERATED US! EXCUSE ME, I don't remember signing up for this!
He growled at us about "obligations" we had failed to perform about (1) calling to let him know we'd arrive after 8 pm--which we did; (2) printing off the map from Venere.com to find the hotel--which never showed up and our printer didn't work if it had; and (3) staying put until he found us--which is just creepy in a city after dark, and he didn't find us!
He FINALLY let us into our room and promptly told us that he didn't stay at the hotel at night--we had it to ourselves. Sketch or WHAT! We found dinner and came back for bed, and I was out by 10:30 pm. Even though Mr. Grumpy-Pants was awful, the hotel itself was wonderful.
I didn't enjoy the experience at the time, but how many people can say that they have been yelled at by their hotel concierge? Yeah, hindsight stories are pretty awesome.
I had visited Venice in the summer of 2005 with a group of fellow Millbrook High graduates. We were there for an afternoon, hitting St. Mark's Square and cruising on the vaporetti. I remembered the city fondly, and couldn't wait to return.
I could have waited.
After a long day on delayed buses and trains from Sansepolcro to Arezzo to Bologna to Venice, we stepped off the train at the Santa Lucia station at almost 9 pm. The lady at the information desk helped us buy a map and showed us where our hotel was on there, and we headed out into Venice proper. A canal sits right in front of the station, with a large white bridge arching over its green waters and gondolas and vaporetti lining its sides. The ancient buildings were beautiful, their facades slightly dirty but still splendid in their elegance.
We stepped over the bridge, darting past pushy men who tried to sell stolen Louis Vitton purses, and headed for our hotel--problem was, we couldn't find it. After perhaps half an hour of wandering Venezia's confusing streets, we called the hotel manager and let him know we were lost. He promptly began yelling at us and telling us to stay put, that he would find us a bring us back. Excuse me?! Four girls, tired and alone in a confusing city, with a strange man looking for us--we'd never seen him, he'd never seen us. This didn't sound like a smart plan.
He had told us the hotel was not five minutes from where we were, but he didn't show even fifteen minutes after the phonecall. Feeling mightily abandoned, we ended up asking some waiters for directions, and we found it tucked away in a back alley. The hotel itself was absolutely beautiful, but there was no hotel manager! Turns out he HAD gone out looking for us, but our paths never crossed.
We went back to the mouth of the alley to wait for the mysterious concierge, and a tall, lanky, older man in a powder-blue jacket came upon us. His long face was made longer by his scowl, and he spoke to us sarcastically, presuming that we had tricked him into coming to look for us. He then proceeded to curse us in Italian and, after letting us into the hotel, BERATED US! EXCUSE ME, I don't remember signing up for this!
He growled at us about "obligations" we had failed to perform about (1) calling to let him know we'd arrive after 8 pm--which we did; (2) printing off the map from Venere.com to find the hotel--which never showed up and our printer didn't work if it had; and (3) staying put until he found us--which is just creepy in a city after dark, and he didn't find us!
He FINALLY let us into our room and promptly told us that he didn't stay at the hotel at night--we had it to ourselves. Sketch or WHAT! We found dinner and came back for bed, and I was out by 10:30 pm. Even though Mr. Grumpy-Pants was awful, the hotel itself was wonderful.
I didn't enjoy the experience at the time, but how many people can say that they have been yelled at by their hotel concierge? Yeah, hindsight stories are pretty awesome.
giovedì 7 giugno 2007
Who Steals Mummified Hands?
June 3, 2007
Our Italian teacher's father, Luigi, has become an expert on the churches of Sansepolcro, and he has even written a book about them. We were privileged enough to receive a private tour of two of the town's most beautiful churches, and he showed us things that most people never even know exist.
We met him in front of the Santa Maria delle Grazie, founded in 1518 by the Friends of Death. The group was dedicated to burying those too poor to receive Christian burials, and many of the symbols in the church involve death in some manner. The company's main symbol is a crowned skull and crossbones with "M" on one side and "G" on the other for Maria delle Grazie, or Maria of Grace. The church is small, with tiny pews and just a couple of paintings on the walls. The altar-piece and ceiling make it exceptional, however. The altarpiece is a tri-fold diptych painting, with a rare depiction of a pregnant St. Mary on the inside and saints on the outside. It used to be opened only in May, the time of St. Mary. The ceiling is covered in hand-done carvings of pomegrenates, Death, Christ, and Mary, and it is made of poplar. GORGEOUS!
The second church we entered was right across the street from the delle Grazie, and it is called the Chiesa di San Francesco. Built in the thirteenth century, only the outside remains original; the inside was redone during the eighteenth century. It was one of the most important churches in Sansepolcro because of its altar, which was created in Gothic style in honor of Beato Ranieri, a saint of the church--sixty miracles are credited to him, I think. His mummified body still rests in a crypt beneath the altar, and Luigi took us under and opened the coffin!!!! I am a huge fan of Ancient Egypt and all things mummified, and it was amazing to see him so close up. However, the pull of relics is still strong today, and someone stole Beato's hand one time during a period of prayer. Um, who steals mummified hands? I mean, honestly!
Our Italian teacher's father, Luigi, has become an expert on the churches of Sansepolcro, and he has even written a book about them. We were privileged enough to receive a private tour of two of the town's most beautiful churches, and he showed us things that most people never even know exist.
We met him in front of the Santa Maria delle Grazie, founded in 1518 by the Friends of Death. The group was dedicated to burying those too poor to receive Christian burials, and many of the symbols in the church involve death in some manner. The company's main symbol is a crowned skull and crossbones with "M" on one side and "G" on the other for Maria delle Grazie, or Maria of Grace. The church is small, with tiny pews and just a couple of paintings on the walls. The altar-piece and ceiling make it exceptional, however. The altarpiece is a tri-fold diptych painting, with a rare depiction of a pregnant St. Mary on the inside and saints on the outside. It used to be opened only in May, the time of St. Mary. The ceiling is covered in hand-done carvings of pomegrenates, Death, Christ, and Mary, and it is made of poplar. GORGEOUS!
The second church we entered was right across the street from the delle Grazie, and it is called the Chiesa di San Francesco. Built in the thirteenth century, only the outside remains original; the inside was redone during the eighteenth century. It was one of the most important churches in Sansepolcro because of its altar, which was created in Gothic style in honor of Beato Ranieri, a saint of the church--sixty miracles are credited to him, I think. His mummified body still rests in a crypt beneath the altar, and Luigi took us under and opened the coffin!!!! I am a huge fan of Ancient Egypt and all things mummified, and it was amazing to see him so close up. However, the pull of relics is still strong today, and someone stole Beato's hand one time during a period of prayer. Um, who steals mummified hands? I mean, honestly!
"Gir-af-e!"
June 1, 2007
Our second family dinner was AMAZING! We met our hosts in the square and they drove us back to their house again for a spectacular fish dinner. I was wrong about their names before, though, so I will now correct it: Roberto is married to Luiggiana; Roberto's sister lives with them (still don't know her name); their son, Matteo, is married to Lorredagna; and Matteo's son is Andrea.
My title comes from Andrea, tonight, the seventeen-month-old grandson of Roberto and Luiggiana. Andrea has been reading the interactive Lion King book, and his favorite animals are the giraffe and the toucan. Every few minutes he put his hand to his neck, stretched his head up, and gurgled at me. The whole family would then chorus, "Giraffe!" (with the Italian inflections on the vowels), and he would grin widely behind his pacifier. They would yell the word for "toucan" whenever he put his hand over his nose and mouth. It was adorable!
Luiggiana has been studying English for ten years, and she invited a friend from her English class for dinner. His name was Michele (ME-KE-LAY), and he came late enough that he stayed one course behind us all throughout the meal. He was a bit nervous with his English at first, but we butchered Italian so much trying to speak to him that he was happy to oblige us. He would talk very loudly and very rapidly in Italian, and then he would tell the same story in English for our benefit. Michele is an artist, and he presented Jen and me with hand-made/hand-drawn pen and ink postcards of Tuscany, which are absolutely beautiful! Mer, I think you could make a killing in the postcard business.
Our second family dinner was AMAZING! We met our hosts in the square and they drove us back to their house again for a spectacular fish dinner. I was wrong about their names before, though, so I will now correct it: Roberto is married to Luiggiana; Roberto's sister lives with them (still don't know her name); their son, Matteo, is married to Lorredagna; and Matteo's son is Andrea.
My title comes from Andrea, tonight, the seventeen-month-old grandson of Roberto and Luiggiana. Andrea has been reading the interactive Lion King book, and his favorite animals are the giraffe and the toucan. Every few minutes he put his hand to his neck, stretched his head up, and gurgled at me. The whole family would then chorus, "Giraffe!" (with the Italian inflections on the vowels), and he would grin widely behind his pacifier. They would yell the word for "toucan" whenever he put his hand over his nose and mouth. It was adorable!
Luiggiana has been studying English for ten years, and she invited a friend from her English class for dinner. His name was Michele (ME-KE-LAY), and he came late enough that he stayed one course behind us all throughout the meal. He was a bit nervous with his English at first, but we butchered Italian so much trying to speak to him that he was happy to oblige us. He would talk very loudly and very rapidly in Italian, and then he would tell the same story in English for our benefit. Michele is an artist, and he presented Jen and me with hand-made/hand-drawn pen and ink postcards of Tuscany, which are absolutely beautiful! Mer, I think you could make a killing in the postcard business.
giovedì 31 maggio 2007
When In Rome...the Sequel
May 30, 2007
I love cappuccinos! The breakfast served at the Hotel Joli included excellent cups of it, accompanied by wonderful breads and jams. We took our sweet time getting ready and didn't actually leave until about 10:30 or so. I bought a pashmina scarf in light blue off the streets, which made me feel really European as I wore it all day :). We were going to just walk by the Castel Sant'Angelo, but it started to rain and we ran inside to avoid the oncoming wetness.
Everyone should take unexpected detours--those always turn out to be the most fun. We wandered up and down its halls for hours in search of fun, and we found it! Ancient paintings, echoing tunnels, and views of Rome that will make your jaws drop--amazing! We walked all the way up to the terrace on top and saw St. Peter's, the Pantheon, and the Seven Hills of Rome from the top. The history of the place is fascinating. It was built by Emperor Hadrian in 139 AD because tombs weren't allowed inside Roman city walls, so he went right across the river and built a huge one in plain sight. Emperors were buried here for at least 100 years, and popes used it as a hideaway when the city was under attack.
We grabbed Italian fast food along the way (two huge slices of pizza, even when I only asked for one), and we got lost trying to find the Pantheon. We ended up by a cat sanctuary (don't ask) in the middle of the street, where we asked an old British couple in bright yellow raincoats how to get there. The lady kept making comments about how it was "good to see Americans traveling again" and such, but she was cute enough that we didn't mind. The Pantheon, when we found it, was well worth the confusion. It has an open hole in the top that spans 70 feet in diameter, and it is absolutely breathtaking! It turns out that it wasn't until Brunelleschi's dome in Florence that people closed up their huge domes--too unstable. It's apparently a very popular hangout when it rains.
We saw glimpes of the Roman Forum, but it had begun to rain again, so we bypassed it in favor of the Colosseum. You should have seen my group's faces when they saw it for the first time! It was beautiful all over again, and we climbed up to the second story in it this time--and the old British couple was there AGAIN! This time they said, in a roundabout way that wasn't so roundabout, that young people take things for granted and don't appreciate history: "thirty minutes to see twenty-five generations--you're improving." Hey, thirty minutes is pretty dang good by tired teenagers in the rain, thank you very much! My group was nice enough to follow me to the Circus Maximus for our last stop, which was where chariot races occurred (Ben Hur, anyone?). Five Colosseums fit into its massive length, and today people jog its grassy paths like they don't realize they're on top of a chariot circle.
Dinner was exceptionally fun--our waiter was a shameless flirt who took particular liking to Bekah and Hillary, and he kept saying that he cooked our food for us himself--he even cooked my salad, apparently :). We ate outside, and it was a great way to relax after a long day of walking and sightseeing. We fell into bed early again, ready to head home to Sansepolcro the next day.
I love cappuccinos! The breakfast served at the Hotel Joli included excellent cups of it, accompanied by wonderful breads and jams. We took our sweet time getting ready and didn't actually leave until about 10:30 or so. I bought a pashmina scarf in light blue off the streets, which made me feel really European as I wore it all day :). We were going to just walk by the Castel Sant'Angelo, but it started to rain and we ran inside to avoid the oncoming wetness.
Everyone should take unexpected detours--those always turn out to be the most fun. We wandered up and down its halls for hours in search of fun, and we found it! Ancient paintings, echoing tunnels, and views of Rome that will make your jaws drop--amazing! We walked all the way up to the terrace on top and saw St. Peter's, the Pantheon, and the Seven Hills of Rome from the top. The history of the place is fascinating. It was built by Emperor Hadrian in 139 AD because tombs weren't allowed inside Roman city walls, so he went right across the river and built a huge one in plain sight. Emperors were buried here for at least 100 years, and popes used it as a hideaway when the city was under attack.
We grabbed Italian fast food along the way (two huge slices of pizza, even when I only asked for one), and we got lost trying to find the Pantheon. We ended up by a cat sanctuary (don't ask) in the middle of the street, where we asked an old British couple in bright yellow raincoats how to get there. The lady kept making comments about how it was "good to see Americans traveling again" and such, but she was cute enough that we didn't mind. The Pantheon, when we found it, was well worth the confusion. It has an open hole in the top that spans 70 feet in diameter, and it is absolutely breathtaking! It turns out that it wasn't until Brunelleschi's dome in Florence that people closed up their huge domes--too unstable. It's apparently a very popular hangout when it rains.
We saw glimpes of the Roman Forum, but it had begun to rain again, so we bypassed it in favor of the Colosseum. You should have seen my group's faces when they saw it for the first time! It was beautiful all over again, and we climbed up to the second story in it this time--and the old British couple was there AGAIN! This time they said, in a roundabout way that wasn't so roundabout, that young people take things for granted and don't appreciate history: "thirty minutes to see twenty-five generations--you're improving." Hey, thirty minutes is pretty dang good by tired teenagers in the rain, thank you very much! My group was nice enough to follow me to the Circus Maximus for our last stop, which was where chariot races occurred (Ben Hur, anyone?). Five Colosseums fit into its massive length, and today people jog its grassy paths like they don't realize they're on top of a chariot circle.
Dinner was exceptionally fun--our waiter was a shameless flirt who took particular liking to Bekah and Hillary, and he kept saying that he cooked our food for us himself--he even cooked my salad, apparently :). We ate outside, and it was a great way to relax after a long day of walking and sightseeing. We fell into bed early again, ready to head home to Sansepolcro the next day.
When in Rome...
May 29, 2007
Rome is a HUGE metropolis--home to 2.6 million people, it is made up by miles and miles of cobblestone streets that wind their way through the seven hills, past the colosseum, and straight past my hotel. We were up by 6:20 AM, a ridiculously early time for us who needed about 3 days worth of pure sleep, and we checked out and headed to the Vatican. I participated in my first bargaining bit quite unintentionally when I thought the hotel was trying to charge us an exhorbitant price for our rooms--50€ for THAT place? Our toilet wouldn't even stop running! Out of pure shock I said, "what?!" and walked away to figure it out, only to realize that we had agreed to that price in the first place in a fit of sheer desperation for a place. I was heading out to apologize and pay the man when Hillary walked in a told me he had just dropped the price by 10 € per person! YAY! Never settle when you can bargain!
We took the Metro to the Vatican, and I looked like a deformed turtle with my green backpack settled firmly on my front as caution against pickpockets. We arrived at the Vatican by 7:30, and the doors opened at 8:45--while most tourists arrive later and stand in line for 2-3 hours, we got in within fifteen minutes of the doors opening. Go us! It started raining halfway through our wait, however, and we huddled together for warmth. Mer, I'm so glad you told me to bring that rainjacket--it was needed today!
The Vatican was wonderful, and I saw the Egyptian exhibit! The Sistine Chapel was disappointing again, people crowded together like a herd of cattle and yelled at by the guards: "NO FLASH!" We escaped out a side passage and ended up in the stunning St. Peter's Basilica, the largest church in the world. The immortal Rick Steves said that St. Peter's can accomodate 95,000 worshippers--the church is six acres large! My house fits into a mosaic chip, probably! It was absolutely beautiful, and I loved it--I saw a nun wearing an audioguide, and my adoration was hooked.
We found our next hotel, the Hotel Joli, after lunch, and I recommend that place to anyone staying in Rome. A five-person room with a private bath, breakfast included, and a view of St. Peter's from the window was only 35€ a night--excellent! We took a nap and headed back out, finding the Piazza del Popolo, which has Egyptian monuments, the Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain, and the Capuchin Crypt. The Capuchin Crypt houses altars made from the bones of the Capuchin monks, beautiful works of art that are incredibly creepy at the same time. I will leave you with the words in the final room of the crypt:
We were what you are
You will become what we are now.
Rome is a HUGE metropolis--home to 2.6 million people, it is made up by miles and miles of cobblestone streets that wind their way through the seven hills, past the colosseum, and straight past my hotel. We were up by 6:20 AM, a ridiculously early time for us who needed about 3 days worth of pure sleep, and we checked out and headed to the Vatican. I participated in my first bargaining bit quite unintentionally when I thought the hotel was trying to charge us an exhorbitant price for our rooms--50€ for THAT place? Our toilet wouldn't even stop running! Out of pure shock I said, "what?!" and walked away to figure it out, only to realize that we had agreed to that price in the first place in a fit of sheer desperation for a place. I was heading out to apologize and pay the man when Hillary walked in a told me he had just dropped the price by 10 € per person! YAY! Never settle when you can bargain!
We took the Metro to the Vatican, and I looked like a deformed turtle with my green backpack settled firmly on my front as caution against pickpockets. We arrived at the Vatican by 7:30, and the doors opened at 8:45--while most tourists arrive later and stand in line for 2-3 hours, we got in within fifteen minutes of the doors opening. Go us! It started raining halfway through our wait, however, and we huddled together for warmth. Mer, I'm so glad you told me to bring that rainjacket--it was needed today!
The Vatican was wonderful, and I saw the Egyptian exhibit! The Sistine Chapel was disappointing again, people crowded together like a herd of cattle and yelled at by the guards: "NO FLASH!" We escaped out a side passage and ended up in the stunning St. Peter's Basilica, the largest church in the world. The immortal Rick Steves said that St. Peter's can accomodate 95,000 worshippers--the church is six acres large! My house fits into a mosaic chip, probably! It was absolutely beautiful, and I loved it--I saw a nun wearing an audioguide, and my adoration was hooked.
We found our next hotel, the Hotel Joli, after lunch, and I recommend that place to anyone staying in Rome. A five-person room with a private bath, breakfast included, and a view of St. Peter's from the window was only 35€ a night--excellent! We took a nap and headed back out, finding the Piazza del Popolo, which has Egyptian monuments, the Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain, and the Capuchin Crypt. The Capuchin Crypt houses altars made from the bones of the Capuchin monks, beautiful works of art that are incredibly creepy at the same time. I will leave you with the words in the final room of the crypt:
We were what you are
You will become what we are now.
I Packed That, Right?
May 28, 2007
Laboratory scientists would have had a field day this morning if we were their lab rats. We scurried frantically to and fo as we packed our bags for Rome, cleaned our rooms, took off our sheets, and prepared for departure. Classes crawled as we waited for lunch and the bus, and then we were on our way! An hour on the bus, 2.5 hours on the train, and several delays put us in Rome by late afternoon, and we took our bags to our hotel for the night. We bought a Roma Pass, which I recommend for all going to Rome for 2-3 days, and then we tried to find a small, non-touristy eating spot for the evening. However, every other tourist in Rome had the same idea, and we ended up in a nice restaurant surrounded by Americans. A couple from Boston on their honeymoon sat behind us, and the lady opened our bottle of water when we couldn't get it ("I have strong hands," she said, and tore the bottle from poor Hillary's grasp). We were too tired to find any landmarks that night, and we were asleep by 9:30 pm.
Laboratory scientists would have had a field day this morning if we were their lab rats. We scurried frantically to and fo as we packed our bags for Rome, cleaned our rooms, took off our sheets, and prepared for departure. Classes crawled as we waited for lunch and the bus, and then we were on our way! An hour on the bus, 2.5 hours on the train, and several delays put us in Rome by late afternoon, and we took our bags to our hotel for the night. We bought a Roma Pass, which I recommend for all going to Rome for 2-3 days, and then we tried to find a small, non-touristy eating spot for the evening. However, every other tourist in Rome had the same idea, and we ended up in a nice restaurant surrounded by Americans. A couple from Boston on their honeymoon sat behind us, and the lady opened our bottle of water when we couldn't get it ("I have strong hands," she said, and tore the bottle from poor Hillary's grasp). We were too tired to find any landmarks that night, and we were asleep by 9:30 pm.
Yes, Homework Exists in Italy. :(
May 27, 2007
I wrote a paper today discussing the medieval Christian view of what constitutes the Good Life vs. the renaissance humanist view. Certainly not the most exciting thing, but it's not called STUDY Abroad for nothing.
I also visited the cemetery in Sansepolcro, which is beautiful and serene. Multiple people are buried in the same grave many times, and their pictures are placed on the tombstones in a very personal manner. I noticed one grave had the statue of a dancing girl on it, so I went to look more closely at it, only to find out that it was the grave of my host family's daughter! Absolutely weird, but easily the most beautiful and touching grave in the cemetery.
I also bought stuff at an antique fair and had the world's best hot chocolate at a place called the Happy Bar, where I sat outside and drank it while doing homework. Molto Bene!
I wrote a paper today discussing the medieval Christian view of what constitutes the Good Life vs. the renaissance humanist view. Certainly not the most exciting thing, but it's not called STUDY Abroad for nothing.
I also visited the cemetery in Sansepolcro, which is beautiful and serene. Multiple people are buried in the same grave many times, and their pictures are placed on the tombstones in a very personal manner. I noticed one grave had the statue of a dancing girl on it, so I went to look more closely at it, only to find out that it was the grave of my host family's daughter! Absolutely weird, but easily the most beautiful and touching grave in the cemetery.
I also bought stuff at an antique fair and had the world's best hot chocolate at a place called the Happy Bar, where I sat outside and drank it while doing homework. Molto Bene!
Ancient Hilltops and City Streets
May 26, 2007
Our second day trip, this time on the way to Anghiari and Arezzo, two Tuscan towns/small cities that are the quintessential Italian beauties. Anghiari, a medieval town perched precariously on the hills surrounding the valley of Sansepolcro, is picture perfect with its towers and turrets standing proudly behind ancient stone walls. The streets feel almost vertical at times, and if I don't have great legs by the end of this trip, somebody's going to be hearing from me.
We visited two churches and a museum while at Anghiari, the Chiesa di Santa Maria delle Grazie and another church, and the Casa Palazzo Taglieschi Museo Statale museum. The first church housed the body of St. Hippolitus in a glass coffin, and he was decked out in simple regalia. However, the coffin was awfully short, and I'm guessing that they split him in half to get him in there--his hands were HUGE!!! The museum mixed modern and ancient works throughout the first several rooms, and it wound its way through an ancient nobleman's house that took up several floors. It housed several beautiful statues of the Madonna, and paintings and della Robias filled every room. I highly recommend it!
Bekah, Hillary, and I ended up wandering through the winding streets in search of adventure, and we certainly found it. As usual, I had to find a little lady's room, and the town map pointed at one not thirty feet away. However, that map and I disagreed over what exactly constituted a "bathroom." While the map had "WC" emblazoned across it, accompanied by a miniature picture of the traditional Toilet Man and Toilet Woman, the actual bathroom was hidden behind dumpsters in a dirty parking lot with only three fly-ridden urinals to its measly title. I screeched and ran, eventually finding solace in a gelatteria that kindly let me use its toilet. Adventure? I think so!
The bus took us next to Arezzo, a major cultural and artistic center during the Renaissance. Francesco Petrarch was born here in 1304, and the city was controlled by the Medici until the eighteenth century. We had lunch in a beautiful little pizzeria, and halfway through a gypsy walked in and asked the customers for mony, shaking her little plastic cup for coins. She was ill-kempt and ragged in her dirty clothes and unwashed hair, and many customers turned away from her in disgust. Travelers are taught to be on guard for these gypsies because of their overwhelming reputation as thieves, which can be a true statement. However, what most people don't realize is that the treatment of gypsies is one of the biggest civil rights violations in the world. This entire race is segregated and discriminated against, many of the children being barred from their school cafeterias and gymnasiums just because they are different. Most don't have any education past the age of fifteen, and even then they are only given janitorial jobs--if they're lucky. Their society is fiercely patriarchal, and many of the women cannot even keep the money they earn. Don't let your guard down and keep your purse close, but remember that compassion can go a long way.
We saw the piazza where part of Life is Beautiful is filmed, and Bekah and I hiked to the Cathedral and park on top of the hill. We then saw Piero's The Legend of the True Cross, which I highly recommend you look up--the legend behind the painting is as interesting as the work itself. We also saw the museum, and within it was Piero's famous Duke and Duchess of Urbino, which you'll recognize on sight if you took World Civ in tenth grade.
It was a ridiculously tiring day, but it was absolutely worth it. Visit those two towns if you ever get the chance, because you'll NEVER regret it.
Our second day trip, this time on the way to Anghiari and Arezzo, two Tuscan towns/small cities that are the quintessential Italian beauties. Anghiari, a medieval town perched precariously on the hills surrounding the valley of Sansepolcro, is picture perfect with its towers and turrets standing proudly behind ancient stone walls. The streets feel almost vertical at times, and if I don't have great legs by the end of this trip, somebody's going to be hearing from me.
We visited two churches and a museum while at Anghiari, the Chiesa di Santa Maria delle Grazie and another church, and the Casa Palazzo Taglieschi Museo Statale museum. The first church housed the body of St. Hippolitus in a glass coffin, and he was decked out in simple regalia. However, the coffin was awfully short, and I'm guessing that they split him in half to get him in there--his hands were HUGE!!! The museum mixed modern and ancient works throughout the first several rooms, and it wound its way through an ancient nobleman's house that took up several floors. It housed several beautiful statues of the Madonna, and paintings and della Robias filled every room. I highly recommend it!
Bekah, Hillary, and I ended up wandering through the winding streets in search of adventure, and we certainly found it. As usual, I had to find a little lady's room, and the town map pointed at one not thirty feet away. However, that map and I disagreed over what exactly constituted a "bathroom." While the map had "WC" emblazoned across it, accompanied by a miniature picture of the traditional Toilet Man and Toilet Woman, the actual bathroom was hidden behind dumpsters in a dirty parking lot with only three fly-ridden urinals to its measly title. I screeched and ran, eventually finding solace in a gelatteria that kindly let me use its toilet. Adventure? I think so!
The bus took us next to Arezzo, a major cultural and artistic center during the Renaissance. Francesco Petrarch was born here in 1304, and the city was controlled by the Medici until the eighteenth century. We had lunch in a beautiful little pizzeria, and halfway through a gypsy walked in and asked the customers for mony, shaking her little plastic cup for coins. She was ill-kempt and ragged in her dirty clothes and unwashed hair, and many customers turned away from her in disgust. Travelers are taught to be on guard for these gypsies because of their overwhelming reputation as thieves, which can be a true statement. However, what most people don't realize is that the treatment of gypsies is one of the biggest civil rights violations in the world. This entire race is segregated and discriminated against, many of the children being barred from their school cafeterias and gymnasiums just because they are different. Most don't have any education past the age of fifteen, and even then they are only given janitorial jobs--if they're lucky. Their society is fiercely patriarchal, and many of the women cannot even keep the money they earn. Don't let your guard down and keep your purse close, but remember that compassion can go a long way.
We saw the piazza where part of Life is Beautiful is filmed, and Bekah and I hiked to the Cathedral and park on top of the hill. We then saw Piero's The Legend of the True Cross, which I highly recommend you look up--the legend behind the painting is as interesting as the work itself. We also saw the museum, and within it was Piero's famous Duke and Duchess of Urbino, which you'll recognize on sight if you took World Civ in tenth grade.
It was a ridiculously tiring day, but it was absolutely worth it. Visit those two towns if you ever get the chance, because you'll NEVER regret it.
"Rabbit" is "Cognilio" in Italian--I Think
It rained today, large, fat raindrops that splashed against the ground and scattered underneath your umbrella, soaking anything that was once dry and clean. Sansepolcro is just as beautiful when it rains, it seems.
We visited the Museo Civico in Sansepolcro today, the local museum that houses a wealth of wonderful nooks and crannies that are filled with interesting paintings and artifacts. Piero della Francesca, an early Renaissance artist who used mathematical precision to perfect his work, was a man of Sansepolcro and is greatly praised in this city. We saw several of his works, and the serene tranquility of the characters' expressions are astounding. His works religious in nature, and his is able to incorporate so many mathematical elements into his paintings that they are almost frighteningly symmetrical--I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler. He also painted Legend of the True Cross in Arezzo, and I highly encourage you to look him up online. I wasn't a big fan of his work at first, but I greatly appreciate it now.
I enjoyed the exhibit under the museum even more than the paintings within it--beneath the museum are ancient tunnels that house old keys, locks, clerical robes, and, my favorite, relics. The locks were so intricate during the Middle Ages and Renaissance! They were heavy and thick, and geometric or flowering designs of varying widths and lengths were used to individualize the locks. The keys were heavy and even more intricate than their matches.
We had dinner with our host families for the first time tonight. We were put in groups of two and a family from Sansepolcro would take us into their house for a traditional Italian dinner to help us get a greater feel for the culture. Jen and I were picked up by Loredagnia and Roberto, an elderly couple in which only Loredagnia spoke any English, and they packed us away in their miniscule car and drove us to their house, situated near the Buitoni Factory. Loredagnia has been studying English for ten years and hosting students from Meredith for that length of period, and she was incredibly welcoming and sweet. Her husband, Roberto, was the wisecrack of the family and made us feel instantly at home by teasing everyone within sight. He didn't speak any English, but he more than made up for it with a nice, two-hour game of charades. Living with them was Roberto's sister; Loredagnia and Roberto's son, Matteo; Matteo's wife; and Matteo's seventeen-month-old son, Andrea, who was the cutest thing I have EVER seen--big brown eyes that light up when he smiles and a swift little gait that has him running into the dog more than anything else.
They made us a wonderful dinner of crostinis with meat; risos with vegetables; rabbit and chicken with roasted vegetables; and fresh cherries for dessert. Jen had coffee, but I declined because of the sheer strength of Italian coffee in general. Instead, Roberto ended up tricking me into trying his brandy--blech! I got some great pictures, though :) They gave us a tour of their home and showed us a beautiful picture of their daughter, who was killed in an automobile accident in 2000. The driving is quite dangerous in Italy and street lights are optional, so it's a tragic truth of Italian life. Roberto and Loredagnia drove us back to our home and kissed our cheeks in farewell, and we promised to walk the passaggiate with them next week. I love them already!
We visited the Museo Civico in Sansepolcro today, the local museum that houses a wealth of wonderful nooks and crannies that are filled with interesting paintings and artifacts. Piero della Francesca, an early Renaissance artist who used mathematical precision to perfect his work, was a man of Sansepolcro and is greatly praised in this city. We saw several of his works, and the serene tranquility of the characters' expressions are astounding. His works religious in nature, and his is able to incorporate so many mathematical elements into his paintings that they are almost frighteningly symmetrical--I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler. He also painted Legend of the True Cross in Arezzo, and I highly encourage you to look him up online. I wasn't a big fan of his work at first, but I greatly appreciate it now.
I enjoyed the exhibit under the museum even more than the paintings within it--beneath the museum are ancient tunnels that house old keys, locks, clerical robes, and, my favorite, relics. The locks were so intricate during the Middle Ages and Renaissance! They were heavy and thick, and geometric or flowering designs of varying widths and lengths were used to individualize the locks. The keys were heavy and even more intricate than their matches.
We had dinner with our host families for the first time tonight. We were put in groups of two and a family from Sansepolcro would take us into their house for a traditional Italian dinner to help us get a greater feel for the culture. Jen and I were picked up by Loredagnia and Roberto, an elderly couple in which only Loredagnia spoke any English, and they packed us away in their miniscule car and drove us to their house, situated near the Buitoni Factory. Loredagnia has been studying English for ten years and hosting students from Meredith for that length of period, and she was incredibly welcoming and sweet. Her husband, Roberto, was the wisecrack of the family and made us feel instantly at home by teasing everyone within sight. He didn't speak any English, but he more than made up for it with a nice, two-hour game of charades. Living with them was Roberto's sister; Loredagnia and Roberto's son, Matteo; Matteo's wife; and Matteo's seventeen-month-old son, Andrea, who was the cutest thing I have EVER seen--big brown eyes that light up when he smiles and a swift little gait that has him running into the dog more than anything else.
They made us a wonderful dinner of crostinis with meat; risos with vegetables; rabbit and chicken with roasted vegetables; and fresh cherries for dessert. Jen had coffee, but I declined because of the sheer strength of Italian coffee in general. Instead, Roberto ended up tricking me into trying his brandy--blech! I got some great pictures, though :) They gave us a tour of their home and showed us a beautiful picture of their daughter, who was killed in an automobile accident in 2000. The driving is quite dangerous in Italy and street lights are optional, so it's a tragic truth of Italian life. Roberto and Loredagnia drove us back to our home and kissed our cheeks in farewell, and we promised to walk the passaggiate with them next week. I love them already!
venerdì 25 maggio 2007
Firenze: the Duomo, the David, and the--Tourists?
May 24, 2007
We got up at the crack of dawn and headed down to the local bus station to ride the twenty minutes to Arezzo. In that six-minute walk I forgot my bus tickets, panicked, almost got hit by a vespa--talk about a morning of accomplishment! Dr. Oatsvall was nice enough to give me one of her tickets, and I bought more in Arezzo. The ride is an hour long and takes you up a winding, mountainous road to the small, urbanized town/city, and even dramamine couldn't keep my stomach settled. But the views! Imagine driving coming upon Anghiari before passing through it, its ancient stone walls jutting out over the edge of a cliff; small villas peek at you through lush trees, and poppies burst into crimson bloom in the fallow fields left dormant for the season.
I saw nothing of Arezzo--we high-tailed it into the station and onto the train to Florence, or Firenze, which took us another hour. We arrived in the crowded Santa Maria Novella train station, and we walked into absolute madness. I have been to Florence before, having taken a trip with twenty others just out of high school through six countries (including Italy) in just ten days. I loved the afternoon I was in Florence, because the towering Duomo and Baptistry, the Santa Croce, and Michaelangelo's David were stunning.
This time, however, all I could think about, as I stepped into the sweltering sun on the crowded Florentine street, was how I missed the quiet vibrancy of Sansepolcro. Florence takes a mallet and smacks you in the face with it, its urban feeling and abundance of tourists taking over the roadways and blocking traffic with tour buses. The sights were gorgeous, but the crowds took some getting used to. The Meredith group split into smaller numbers after arriving at the Duomo, of which I was very thankful--the tour groups are large and pickpockets frequently "brush" by them. I traveled with four, and later two, other girls as we walked toward the Ponte Vecchio, the beautiful bridge lined with shops that crosses the river. However, halfway through walking there I realized that I remembered the route to the piazza otuside the Palazzo Vechio, and I took us on a nice detour that ended up in the correct spot--problem was, we couldn't get to it! The square was blocked off by barriers and police cars, and after asking around we realized that the Italian president, Giorgio Napolitano, was inside! We waited around to see if he would come out, but the wait was cutting into our other time, so we left.
We headed to the Science Academy, and our group split up into those wanting to see the academy and those wanting to grab lunch. I joined the Academy group, and we saw huge astrolabes, sundials, compasses, everything! The globe room was amazing, with a globe twice as tall and round as us in there, its many interlocking links made of gold and bronze. There was a whole room dedicated to immensely huge telescopes, and another one houses medical instruments, including early microscopes. My favorite part was seeing Galileo's middle finger encased as a relic with his instruments--it's only a bone now, but it sticks straight up like it wants to "politely" make you leave. We eventually followed his advice and left, eating at a small cafe across the street with some of the first cold water I've had in Europe--it was glorious, especially for an ice hog like myself!
We had a 12:45 appointment with the Uffizi, and on the way back to it we realized that the crowd around the Palazzo Vecchio had not dispersed--if anything, it had only gotten larger! We squished our way through the crowds (clutching our purses and on the lookout for gypsies) to a nearby stair, and we actually got pictures of the president coming out! I SAW THE ITALIAN PRESIDENT IN FLORENCE! We finally made our appointment and entered the Uffizi, a former Medici office building that now houses the greatest collection of Italian art in the world. It was huge, and we had an arduous worksheet to fill out, but I saw Rembrandt, Da Vinci, Piero della Francesca, Botticelli, everyone there! I even saw The Birth of Venus!!!!
Bekah, Hillary, and I eventually left the Uffizi and wandered through the streets, eating some gelato on the way. Florence is the birthplace of gelato, and Rick Steves (my hero) said we HAVE to eat some there. I got Tartufo and Bancio, and the tartufo definitely had alcohol in it :). We eventually wandered back to the train station, our feet aching and our bodies sweaty, and we took the train and bus back to Sansepolcro--I slept for half the trip. After we arrived, the three of us ate at the Trattoria Pizzeria off the piazza, and we each had a glass of white wine. It went wonderfully with the meal (spinach ravioli), and it was a great first-time experience. Homework and exhausted sleep followed in quick succession (sleep was my favorite part).
When in Florence, watch out for the pickpockets and tourist groups. Stay to the back alleyways and get lost, because it's so much fun to navigate your way to saner ground!
We got up at the crack of dawn and headed down to the local bus station to ride the twenty minutes to Arezzo. In that six-minute walk I forgot my bus tickets, panicked, almost got hit by a vespa--talk about a morning of accomplishment! Dr. Oatsvall was nice enough to give me one of her tickets, and I bought more in Arezzo. The ride is an hour long and takes you up a winding, mountainous road to the small, urbanized town/city, and even dramamine couldn't keep my stomach settled. But the views! Imagine driving coming upon Anghiari before passing through it, its ancient stone walls jutting out over the edge of a cliff; small villas peek at you through lush trees, and poppies burst into crimson bloom in the fallow fields left dormant for the season.
I saw nothing of Arezzo--we high-tailed it into the station and onto the train to Florence, or Firenze, which took us another hour. We arrived in the crowded Santa Maria Novella train station, and we walked into absolute madness. I have been to Florence before, having taken a trip with twenty others just out of high school through six countries (including Italy) in just ten days. I loved the afternoon I was in Florence, because the towering Duomo and Baptistry, the Santa Croce, and Michaelangelo's David were stunning.
This time, however, all I could think about, as I stepped into the sweltering sun on the crowded Florentine street, was how I missed the quiet vibrancy of Sansepolcro. Florence takes a mallet and smacks you in the face with it, its urban feeling and abundance of tourists taking over the roadways and blocking traffic with tour buses. The sights were gorgeous, but the crowds took some getting used to. The Meredith group split into smaller numbers after arriving at the Duomo, of which I was very thankful--the tour groups are large and pickpockets frequently "brush" by them. I traveled with four, and later two, other girls as we walked toward the Ponte Vecchio, the beautiful bridge lined with shops that crosses the river. However, halfway through walking there I realized that I remembered the route to the piazza otuside the Palazzo Vechio, and I took us on a nice detour that ended up in the correct spot--problem was, we couldn't get to it! The square was blocked off by barriers and police cars, and after asking around we realized that the Italian president, Giorgio Napolitano, was inside! We waited around to see if he would come out, but the wait was cutting into our other time, so we left.
We headed to the Science Academy, and our group split up into those wanting to see the academy and those wanting to grab lunch. I joined the Academy group, and we saw huge astrolabes, sundials, compasses, everything! The globe room was amazing, with a globe twice as tall and round as us in there, its many interlocking links made of gold and bronze. There was a whole room dedicated to immensely huge telescopes, and another one houses medical instruments, including early microscopes. My favorite part was seeing Galileo's middle finger encased as a relic with his instruments--it's only a bone now, but it sticks straight up like it wants to "politely" make you leave. We eventually followed his advice and left, eating at a small cafe across the street with some of the first cold water I've had in Europe--it was glorious, especially for an ice hog like myself!
We had a 12:45 appointment with the Uffizi, and on the way back to it we realized that the crowd around the Palazzo Vecchio had not dispersed--if anything, it had only gotten larger! We squished our way through the crowds (clutching our purses and on the lookout for gypsies) to a nearby stair, and we actually got pictures of the president coming out! I SAW THE ITALIAN PRESIDENT IN FLORENCE! We finally made our appointment and entered the Uffizi, a former Medici office building that now houses the greatest collection of Italian art in the world. It was huge, and we had an arduous worksheet to fill out, but I saw Rembrandt, Da Vinci, Piero della Francesca, Botticelli, everyone there! I even saw The Birth of Venus!!!!
Bekah, Hillary, and I eventually left the Uffizi and wandered through the streets, eating some gelato on the way. Florence is the birthplace of gelato, and Rick Steves (my hero) said we HAVE to eat some there. I got Tartufo and Bancio, and the tartufo definitely had alcohol in it :). We eventually wandered back to the train station, our feet aching and our bodies sweaty, and we took the train and bus back to Sansepolcro--I slept for half the trip. After we arrived, the three of us ate at the Trattoria Pizzeria off the piazza, and we each had a glass of white wine. It went wonderfully with the meal (spinach ravioli), and it was a great first-time experience. Homework and exhausted sleep followed in quick succession (sleep was my favorite part).
When in Florence, watch out for the pickpockets and tourist groups. Stay to the back alleyways and get lost, because it's so much fun to navigate your way to saner ground!
Camilla the Attack Turtle
May 23, 2007
It started out as a normal day in Sansepolcro. We had a delicious breakfast (I had English Breakfast tea accompanying it, in preparation for the next half of my journey), followed by several hours of classes. The homework level continues to increase, but I'm learning so much! I've got survival Italian, taught by the wonderful Sarah, a resident of Sansepolcro who has been teaching the Meredith Abroad students some Italian for the fifteen years our program has been stationed in this town (our arrival was announced to the town by the local newspaper, by the way--we're celebrities!). IDS is my Core 200 class, wherein I'm learning all about Italian culture and history. Did you know that many traditional Italians consider it bad manners to fold your hands in your lap when at the table? They rest their forearms on the table as they relax and wait for dinner or refreshments. In History of the Renaissance and Reformation, we're currently focusing on the development of humanism as it grew out of traditional medieval ideals, and I'm about to write a paper comparing the medieval and humanistic views of the "Good Life" (feel free to leave ideas or comments to help me with this).
That afternoon, the professors took us to the home of Barbara Chimenti, a talented local jewelrymaker in Sansepolcro who may soon go international--and if she does, I've got her work! :) She makes stunning silver jewelry and sells it from her front living room, and her family welcomed us into their home with smiles and refreshments. However, we had a bit of trouble making it to her front door--her father keeps a pet turtle, named Camilla, who runs at you as you open the gate and tries to bite your toes! Wear close-toed shoes if you go. It was funny at first, watching her climb over people's covered feet, but then she cornered us as we tried to leave the place! We couldn't get the gate to open, and she is surprisingly fast for a turtle. I'm pretty sure we awoke anyone napping in the 100-mile vicinity.
I'm in a beautiful Italian town, with wonderful people and gorgeous weather, and what do I write about? Getting attacked by a turtle.
It started out as a normal day in Sansepolcro. We had a delicious breakfast (I had English Breakfast tea accompanying it, in preparation for the next half of my journey), followed by several hours of classes. The homework level continues to increase, but I'm learning so much! I've got survival Italian, taught by the wonderful Sarah, a resident of Sansepolcro who has been teaching the Meredith Abroad students some Italian for the fifteen years our program has been stationed in this town (our arrival was announced to the town by the local newspaper, by the way--we're celebrities!). IDS is my Core 200 class, wherein I'm learning all about Italian culture and history. Did you know that many traditional Italians consider it bad manners to fold your hands in your lap when at the table? They rest their forearms on the table as they relax and wait for dinner or refreshments. In History of the Renaissance and Reformation, we're currently focusing on the development of humanism as it grew out of traditional medieval ideals, and I'm about to write a paper comparing the medieval and humanistic views of the "Good Life" (feel free to leave ideas or comments to help me with this).
That afternoon, the professors took us to the home of Barbara Chimenti, a talented local jewelrymaker in Sansepolcro who may soon go international--and if she does, I've got her work! :) She makes stunning silver jewelry and sells it from her front living room, and her family welcomed us into their home with smiles and refreshments. However, we had a bit of trouble making it to her front door--her father keeps a pet turtle, named Camilla, who runs at you as you open the gate and tries to bite your toes! Wear close-toed shoes if you go. It was funny at first, watching her climb over people's covered feet, but then she cornered us as we tried to leave the place! We couldn't get the gate to open, and she is surprisingly fast for a turtle. I'm pretty sure we awoke anyone napping in the 100-mile vicinity.
I'm in a beautiful Italian town, with wonderful people and gorgeous weather, and what do I write about? Getting attacked by a turtle.
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