Florence, Week #8: In Which I Take A Lot of Trains, Momentarily Own A House in Levanto, and Run Around in the Rain

Last weekend, my friends and I found ourselves in Cinque Terre, a quintet of towns along the southern coast of Italy. Even if you've never heard of the Cinque Terre, you've probably seen pictures of it. Imagine a cluster of colorful buildings precariously perched on a cliffside, looking as if they might suddenly slide downwards into the sea. One of the towns is also featured on the cover of Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter. (Great book, btw). Anyway, after taking a train to La Spezia, then to Corniglia, and finally to Levanto (a town adjacent to the Cinque Terre) we found ourselves at our air b&b, a beautiful pink house deep in the hills. We spent most of Friday afternoon marveling at how adult we felt: the six of us with a hilltop cottage all to ourselves. We drank tea and chatted, and we even managed to make a real, honest-to-goodness dinner complete with pasta (with olive oil and garlic!), caprese salad, and white wine. We lost some of our dignity when we all freaked out over a sudden downpour of rain, half of us thinking there was someone outside, rattling the door, and half of us mistaking the noise for the terrifying crackle of a fire in the kitchen. Momentary terror aside, it's nice to know we'll at least be able to survive in London, where we'll be living in flats and cooking our own meals.

Our original plan was to walk the five cities of Cinque Terre, a feat which might have been possible if the weather hadn't intervened. We were able to catch a train to Rio Maggiore before the rain started. This is probably my favorite memory of the whole trip. After getting out of the train station, you walk through a long tunnel that gets you to the marina, which is a small inlet that is surrounded on three sides by brightly colored buildings. They look a bit like colorful wooden blocks a child would play with, and they're arranged in much the same way. There are a set of stone steps that lead down to the water, and a curving arm of rocks that I assume protects boats during rougher weather, which my friend Lia insisted on crawling all over like the little adventurer she is. After being totally undignified tourists (we practically had the whole place to ourselves!), we wandered along the coastline to a deserted beach.

Actually, it was less of a beach and more of a pile of rocks that happened to occur along the shoreline. To one side was a railroad bridge that looked like it could have been a repurposed aqueduct or else some kind of mediaeval structure. We took more ridiculous pictures, and I sat on the boulders overlooking the sea, marveling at the fact that this place even exists. I seem to have these kind of moments a lot now.

The landscape of the Cinque Terre is completely different from Tuscany. Wildflowers grow along the rocky, steep hillside, and the landscape is punctuated by palm trees and prickly pear. In some places the landscape looks more like Hawaii than Italy. Unlike the sun-kissed tan of Florence, the Cinque Terre is a symphony of color. Almost nothing is painted tan or grey, and even Levanto, which isn't technically part of the five famous cities, had a pop of yellows and pinks and blues. The ocean, too, was a different beast entirely. Even on the overcast weekend we were there it was a beautiful, deep blue or a startling green.

By the time we finished exploring Rio Maggore, the rain had started. It was a downpour that would continue pretty much all weekend. We tried to not let it deter us, but the Cinque Terre was pretty much shut down in a lot of places. The walking paths were closed, so we took trains between four of the five cities. We ate lunch wherever we could find an open restaurant.

We were supposed to catch our train home in Corniglia, the highest city in the Cinque Terre. We arrived a couple hours before our train to Florence was supposed to leave so that we'd have time to explore. What we didn't realize was that the city center was reachable only by way of a 365 step staircase (and, apparently, a bus which was nowhere in sight). It was rainy and cold and we had all of our luggage with us, but one of my friends had been told that she had to try the lemon basil gelato in Corniglia. So, up we went. (If you haven't noticed this by now, most of our decisions are heavily influenced by gelato)

The hike up was pretty brutal. Each time I thought I could see the end, I'd reach the top of one flight only to discover another. Thankfully, the steps were shallow and wide, and it wasn't as bad as it could have been. (Although I think I would have preferred not climbing in the rain). Once we got to the top we followed a short, winding road and found ourselves in the center of Corniglia...which was completely deserted. Imagine for a moment, five girls with huge backpacks huddled in the middle of a deserted town square in the rain. We found the gelataria. It was closed. We saw a couple restaurants. All closed.

I must say, the walk back down the 365 steps was much more enjoyable. I has able to appreciate the view this time, and my goodness was it an amazing view. The rain had turned everything an impossible shade of green. Flowers clustered along the edge of the steps. The coastline melted into the sea, and the sea into the sky. In the distance you could just barely make out a splash of color on a hillside: another town in the Cinque Terre.

The whole time I was there I couldn't help imagining these tiny little towns inundated with tourists. I imagined that the people who lived here, the shop and restaurant owners, were cherishing the silence that both the cold and the rain brought. Even though I would have appreciated a couple more hours sans-rain, the weekend was in many ways just what I wanted: a relaxing holiday on the coast.

Florence, Week #7: Roman Holiday

When I first heard that our program would be taking a weekend trip to Rome, the first images that flashed through my head were of wearing beautiful 1950's dresses, spontaneously cutting my hair, and escaping prying journalists on a moped. Yes, I'm referring to Audrey Hepburn's character in Roman Holiday.  The film is such a big part of my consciousness that before actually being there I could hardly imagine Rome in anything other than crisp, beautiful black and white.

My own roman holiday was not quite as romantic and bittersweet as Audrey's, but we did so much that weekend that I don't know how I'm going to be able to encapsulate all in a single blog post. Here goes!

The Forum
A few hours after arriving in Rome we made our way to the roman forum, where we met our tour guide. She was very lively and knowledgable and navigated the sea of tourists like a pro. The forum is fascinating because you can really see the stratification of the buildings. In Rome everything is built on top of everything else, so any important building might have an Ancient Roman foundation, Medieval turrets, and a Renaissance facade. It was so surreal to be walking on the same ground as ancient roman citizens, and at the same time being surrounded by the modern city. One of the things I am constantly having to do on this trip is allow both past and present to exist in my mind at the same time. Though it may not seem like it, they are influencing each other all the time, and the way a modern city chooses to display its past is no less important than the way the past shapes the modern city. (I may have to write a whole other blog post on this topic, because I think it's fascinating to see how past and present interact!)

The Coliseum
After the forum, we made our way to the coliseum. The most interesting thing about it, for me, was seeing the bare bones of the structure beneath the floor of the stadium, where the gladiators would have waited, and live (and often dangerous) animals would have been kept. I still can't imagine how hot and dark it would have been underneath the floor, with only torches to see by. Another thing I learned about the coliseum is that it was occasionally filled with water in order to recreate naval battles. Crazy! As a structure it is truly impressive, and it's fascinating to see how its influence manifests itself in later architecture and painting all over italy.

The Pantheon
I thought I was ready for the Pantheon. I had seen pictures of it in art history classes. Maybe the reason I was so awestruck was that we came upon it so casually. Suddenly you round a corner and their it is. It's kind of like the Duomo in that a picture will never fully capture what it is like to stand underneath the coffered dome. You think about all of that weight, suspended over your head, with the occulous like a single eye at its center. It's humbling and incredible, and even though we spent less than fifteen minutes inside, it remains one of my favorite places in Rome.

Trevi Fountain
That night my friends and I made a trip to the Trevi Fountain. It's one of those landmarks that begs to be seen at night, what with its crystalline water reflecting on the white marble horses above.  I don't think I ever saw it with less that twenty rows of tourists around it, but it was beautiful all the same. We did the stereotypical things: tossed a coin in, made a wish. Afterwards we wandered around until we found a reasonably cheap restaurant. Even though it was cold we sat on the patio underneath a terrace of fairy lights. I distinctly remember talking about books, especially Harry Potter and To Kill A Mockingbird. Harper Lee passed away the next day. Funny how life can be strange like that.

St. Peter's Basilica
One of the things I will always remember from this trip is coming up out of the necropolis and into the very center of St. Peter's Basilica. The first word that comes to mind when I think of it is overwhelming. It's not just the crowds. Everywhere you look there is a statue or a painting or some bright gold ornamentation. The sheer grandeur is almost too much to take in at once. The best you can do is wander around with your mouth open, wondering how on earth a place this massive and ornate could even exist. I've seen a lot of cathedrals, and while I've been awestruck several times, St. Peter's feels like another beast entirely. Maybe it's because it's the seat of the entire Catholic faith. Maybe it's that in addition to having incredibly high ceilings, its floor plan is sprawling. While Notre Dame was impressive for its towering, gothic height, St. Peter's feels more overbearing and stately. (Which I suppose makes sense seeing as the Vatican is its own state). Maybe it was the tourists, or my own lack of faith, or the dramatic baroque architecture, but there was almost something unsettling about being in that space, a little like standing at the foot of a mountain: both incredibly beautiful and mildly frightening.

The Vatican Museums
The Vatican Museums are equally overwhelming. Around every corner is some new wonder: statues from antiquity, huge history paintings, grecian urns, egyptian mummies, mesopotamian earthenware. We took the long way to the sistine chapel (it felt as though we walked for miles - we probably did). There was so much to see that I felt guilty for choosing to spend time in one room and passing over others. As you get closer to the chapel the architecture gets progressively more ornate, until you're standing in, say, the Gallery of the Maps. You also pass through Raphael's rooms, where I got to see the famous "School of Athens." And then, after going through a convoluted set of passageways and staircases (I swear we went up and then down and then up again), you're in the Sistine Chapel. It's difficult to summarize monuments that everyone knows, because we are inundated with images of them constantly. The ceiling is amazing, of course. I marveled at the sheer amount of faces Michelangelo had to paint, which seems like a dumb thing to marvel at, but when you think about it, it truly is incredible. Afterwards we stumbled blindingly into the afternoon sun: dazed, confused, and completely in awe.

The Opera
The vatican was not the only item on our agenda that day. That evening we piled into taxis in our finest clothes and went to the opera. We saw a production of Cenerentola (Cinderella). I'm not a huge fan of opera, but I must say this was pretty enjoyable in parts (and pretty weird in others). The weird included things like this:
-Cinderella had a bunch of "clones" (that's the best way to describe them) that accompanied her in a lot of her scenes. Their jerky, mechanical dancing was supposed to be representative of their status as essentially wind-up versions of Cinderella, but their frantic movement around the stage got old pretty quickly.
-There was also a scene in which the other women at the ball do a jealousy infused dance number with guns pointed at each other (yes guns) and at the end of the number (after Cinderella captures the prince's attention) they all commit mass suicide. It was meant to be comic, but it was all so out-of-the-blue that I don't think any of us knew how to react.
The music was largely enjoyable and as far as spectacle goes, this opera had it in spades. The costumes were incredible. Overall, it was a fascinating experience, and hey, you can't go to Italy without seeing an opera! (This is actually my second!)

The Borgese Museum
On our final day in Rome, we visited the Villa Borgese with the same tour guide we had on the first day. I had been looking forward to this all trip because the Borgese houses many of Bernini's most famous sculptures. My favorite is Apollo and Daphne, which captures Daphne at the exact moment she is being transformed into a tree. Her fingers extend into leaves, and even her toes are actively transforming into roots right before your eyes. Truly incredible.

In all honestly, I liked Rome much more than I thought I would. I never really had a burning desire to visit it until this trip, and now I hope to come back someday and explore it even more. There are times when Florence feels trapped in time- as though the city is perpetually in the renaissance and hasn't quite caught up to the modern era. Rome, on the other hand, somehow balances its ancient past with its modernity in ways that are truly fascinating and occasionally confusing. Also, the traffic (or maybe the pedestrians) are crazy. People just walk out in front of cars an hope that they stop!

I hope you enjoyed my thoughts on Rome! For more on Audrey and Italy, check out this photo set, and this wonderful article written by her son.

Ciao!

Florence, Week #1: In Which I Watch a Medieval Parade, Meet my Host Family, and Have a Food Epiphany

My first glimpse of Firenze

Despite all of my fears leading up to this trip, the morning of my flight to Florence dawned along with my acceptance that yes, I was actually going to spend an entire semester away from home, and yes, everything would be ok. The flights and arrival were pretty uneventful. I took a cab to the hotel where we stayed for the first few days and lucked into meeting the director of the London part of the program. She was just as excited to be visiting Florence for a few days as I was to be visiting for two months, and we hit it off immediately. I also happen to be in her London theatre class for the second half of the semester, which I am super excited about.

Right now, my first week feels like a blur of introductions, orientation meetings, and lots and lots of walking. Breathtaking is the only word I can think of to describe seeing the Duomo for the first time, and even that doesn't seem to do it justice. If you've seen photos of the Eiffel tower, you can kind of get a sense of what it's like in real life, but the Duomo is a different beast entirely. It is altogether more colorful, intricate, and imposing than any photo of it I've ever seen. In photos the facade looks flat and smooth, but in reality each section is carved with stone lattice work or statues of important figures. As you walk away from it down one of the narrow cobblestone streets, be sure to turn and look over your shoulder. It looks as though you've entered some alternate dimension, and all that's left where you were standing is a towering wall of marble.

My first glimpse of the Duomo

On Tuesday (my birthday!) we moved in with our host families. My host parents are named Christina and Bruno, and they couldn't be sweeter. We sit at their kitchen table every night with Italian television murmuring in the background, and try to make conversation in Italian. Everyone says that Italian is similar to Spanish, but my five years of Spanish hasn't helped me with vocabulary one bit. I suppose grammatically the two languages are comparable, but that doesn't make remembering that "very" is not "muy" but "multo" any easier. Despite this, I think I'm picking up Italian so much faster than I thought I would. Even the first night with my host family, while trying to form dinner conversation on exactly two days of Italian class, went smoother than I imagined. It helps that our Italian professor, Luigi, is one of the best language teachers I've ever had. He's sharp and funny, and entirely un-intimidating. His enthusiasm makes you want to speak up in class, and in another language no less!

View from the Piazza Michelangelo

Me in front of the view from the Piazza Michelangelo

Wednesday was Epiphany, a christian holiday celebrated in many parts of the world. The main event in Florence was the Parade of the Magi (which dates back to the 13th century), in which Florentines dressed in medieval attire wound their way towards the Duomo. They carried flags and banners representing the many important families and guilds of Florence, lead by the three wise men on horseback. There were flag throwers and falconers complete with live falcons and owls. The surrounding streets were crowded with people, Italians and tourists alike. It was truly a grand spectacle. We joined the masses in front of the Duomo to watch the final ceremony (a nearly impossible task because it was so crowded), and eventually we made it to the front. The ceremony wasn't entirely enjoyable because it took place completely in Italian, but at the end they released a flurry of balloons into the air while a choir belted out the hallelujah chorus of Handel's Messiah. The blur of color against the creamy marble of the Duomo was simply spectacular.

One last experience deserves mentioning: my first gelato. You guys. It was so good. I got a scoop of Panna Cotta (which I'd never heard of), Coffee, and of course, Pistachio at a place a couple of streets down from the Ponte Vecchio. While all three were amazing, the Pistachio was unlike any other pistachio ice cream I've ever had. It was the perfect balance of sweet and salty, with a hint of nuttiness. It wasn't even green. And with that first bite, just as - inexplicably - Bob Marley started playing over the speakers in the gelataria, I became enlightened. I actually teared up. Seriously. Food has never made me cry before. I reigned my emotions in before my friends saw, but the experience still remains one of my favorite so far. I think it was a combination of being happy to be with new friends in a beautiful city, and eating incredible, perception-altering food. I've had gelato since then, but it hasn't been the same. (Always delicious, though!)

Lights along the Arno river

Not everything has been as great as my first experience with gelato, unfortunately. I am writing this from my bed after spending an entire day (a day, in fact, in which everyone else went on a day trip to Pisa) recovering from an awful cold. I spent most of my nights this week coughing, and most of my days running around the city and eating a delicious (but not very balanced) diet. As much as I hate missing out on an excursion, I feel so much better after giving my body time to recharge. It's been an incredibly wonderful, messy week, and I can't wait for more. Ciao!

View from my bedroom window