4/25/2010-- Portland, Oregon
Things I missed about America include but are not limited to:
*Maple Syrup, honey, real ketchup, and condiments in general that are not olive oil and vinegar
* Non-fat milk
* Big beds
* No shower shoes
* Filtered and free water
* Pedestrian right of way
That said, the things that I miss about Florence is an infinitely longer list and I am yet to be home for 24 hours. I cannot even begin to fashion a summation of my feelings about the experience as a whole. I am thrilled to be back and see my family and yet simultaneously yearning for one more walk up to Piazzale Michelangelo, one more euro cone of Gelato from La Carraia, one more gypsy harassing me for spare change. I am alarmed at this stage to be waking up in a room sans roommates, and not exiting my house to a busy street of speeding buses, bikes, and cigarette smoke. I will forever yearn to be back in Flo which just motivates me to prioritize a goal of returning some day soon. As the famous graffiti says, look after my heart, Florence, I have left it with you.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Corte d' Azur: Chicken Fights, Yachts, and finally some ocean.
4/12/2010-- Southern France
I am in complete and utter denial about our eminent departure from Florence. That said, if one were to theoretically leave, and request a closing tour, this past weekend's experience would be the epitome of what anyone could hope for. The South of France blew every expectation I had into it's crystal clear blue waters.
Day 1: Lounging, sunning, general merriment on the beach in Nice.
Day 2: Lounging, sunning, general merriment on the beach in Cannes. This concluded with a group-wide (keeping in mind we were rolling around 75 deep) chicken fight- session in the waves. One of the top-five happiest days of my life, hands down. Joy radiated from every person and scene. The sun was glorious, the water moderate, the entire ambiance was perfection.
Day 3: Monte Carlo/ Monaco, where luxury liners, race tracks, and casinos are a-plenty, and envy is solicited around every corner. I dream of retiring in a place 10% as amazing as here.
All in all, the weekend was relaxing, time for friends who have moved us in special and peculiar ways throughout the semester. I returned to Florence (despite a bus-breakdown circa Pisa aeroporto) feeling ready to face the coming onslaught of dead/finals week with only feelings of utter bliss.
I am in complete and utter denial about our eminent departure from Florence. That said, if one were to theoretically leave, and request a closing tour, this past weekend's experience would be the epitome of what anyone could hope for. The South of France blew every expectation I had into it's crystal clear blue waters.
Day 1: Lounging, sunning, general merriment on the beach in Nice.
Day 2: Lounging, sunning, general merriment on the beach in Cannes. This concluded with a group-wide (keeping in mind we were rolling around 75 deep) chicken fight- session in the waves. One of the top-five happiest days of my life, hands down. Joy radiated from every person and scene. The sun was glorious, the water moderate, the entire ambiance was perfection.
Day 3: Monte Carlo/ Monaco, where luxury liners, race tracks, and casinos are a-plenty, and envy is solicited around every corner. I dream of retiring in a place 10% as amazing as here.
All in all, the weekend was relaxing, time for friends who have moved us in special and peculiar ways throughout the semester. I returned to Florence (despite a bus-breakdown circa Pisa aeroporto) feeling ready to face the coming onslaught of dead/finals week with only feelings of utter bliss.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Munchen Munchkins-- Easter Break
4/1/2010-- Munich, Germany
The theory that all any man needs to attract a harem of women is a puppy or baby must have originated in Munich, a city so stock-piled with both it was near overwhelming. Babies (or as we fondly referred to them as "nuggets" or "nuggs") were often found in tow of the mothers, wearing a variety of entertaining and precious outfits. Some gems were entirely-denim ensemble nugg, afro nugg, dinosaur hat nugg, and beyond. Dogs were also abundant and accompanied their owners to just about anywhere (one also was alarmingly spotted exiting a Hofbrauhaus bathroom stall). The discovery of such adorable creatures around every corner led me to believe very early on that I was destined to love Munich. I did not expect to like Germany nearly as much as I did but it took me by surprise and ended up becoming one of my favorite cities thus far.
Day 1: Dachau concentration camp. An ethereal haze of heaviness hung over every building we visited, reconstructed or not. The feeling one gets upon entering the gas chamber was indescribable. While Dachau was said not to be an extermination camp it was apparent that there were still souls lost in that room at the hand of the SS. After attending Good Friday mass at the camp, we frolicked around the inner city, had lunch at the Pauliner factory, and dinner at the infamous Hofbrauhaus.
Day 2: Five hour bike tour which was unreal. We toured many high points of Munich and ended by my personal highlight of watching local surfers master the wakes of the Isar river. This moment alone made the entire trip worthwhile. The day was glorious, sunny and also 20x better than walking because we got to witness the struggles of 63 college students attempting to operate gracefully beach cruiser bikes, hilarity ensued.
Day 3: Happy Easter! An 11 hour bus ride home with a stop at the Neuschwastein castle and a beautiful drive along the Austrian alps we were back in Florence!
Day 4: I have the wonderful privilege to accompany a long-time family friend to her and her husband's vineyard in San Gimignano, where I was treated to an exceptional four-course Easter Monday traditional Italian feast. The wine, food, and company were all unparalleled and the experience as a whole was beyond relaxing. The perfect end to my Easter holiday. Buona Pasqua!
The theory that all any man needs to attract a harem of women is a puppy or baby must have originated in Munich, a city so stock-piled with both it was near overwhelming. Babies (or as we fondly referred to them as "nuggets" or "nuggs") were often found in tow of the mothers, wearing a variety of entertaining and precious outfits. Some gems were entirely-denim ensemble nugg, afro nugg, dinosaur hat nugg, and beyond. Dogs were also abundant and accompanied their owners to just about anywhere (one also was alarmingly spotted exiting a Hofbrauhaus bathroom stall). The discovery of such adorable creatures around every corner led me to believe very early on that I was destined to love Munich. I did not expect to like Germany nearly as much as I did but it took me by surprise and ended up becoming one of my favorite cities thus far.
Day 1: Dachau concentration camp. An ethereal haze of heaviness hung over every building we visited, reconstructed or not. The feeling one gets upon entering the gas chamber was indescribable. While Dachau was said not to be an extermination camp it was apparent that there were still souls lost in that room at the hand of the SS. After attending Good Friday mass at the camp, we frolicked around the inner city, had lunch at the Pauliner factory, and dinner at the infamous Hofbrauhaus.
Day 2: Five hour bike tour which was unreal. We toured many high points of Munich and ended by my personal highlight of watching local surfers master the wakes of the Isar river. This moment alone made the entire trip worthwhile. The day was glorious, sunny and also 20x better than walking because we got to witness the struggles of 63 college students attempting to operate gracefully beach cruiser bikes, hilarity ensued.
Day 3: Happy Easter! An 11 hour bus ride home with a stop at the Neuschwastein castle and a beautiful drive along the Austrian alps we were back in Florence!
Day 4: I have the wonderful privilege to accompany a long-time family friend to her and her husband's vineyard in San Gimignano, where I was treated to an exceptional four-course Easter Monday traditional Italian feast. The wine, food, and company were all unparalleled and the experience as a whole was beyond relaxing. The perfect end to my Easter holiday. Buona Pasqua!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Everyone is exponentially better-looking when paired with an accent / Spring Break Part II
3/16/2010--Dublin, Ireland
It is a sad but solid fact that Irish accents could make even the coldest spinster weak at the knees. I could not be more in love with the Irish as a collective unit. Their friendly natures, kind temperaments and culture all are universally appealing and a welcome change to Parisian attitudes towards Americans. I can say with conviction that Ireland was the first country we have visited that I could realistically see myself living. We experienced the St Pattys day parade/ festivities in full splendor as a partial celebration for one of our friend's 21st birthday and also got a chance to view some historical elements (Book of Kels, Trinity College, St Patrick's Church, Dublin Castle) and some beautiful elements (Coastal regions, Galway, Cliffs of Moher). Everything was lush, green, and breathtaking. The Book of Kels was an exceptionally interesting part of Irish history and we got a chance to learn the process that was used to create this amazing artifact while we got a tour of the campus (which puts our Ivy league to shame). My favorite place in Ireland was Galway. This cozy town rivals Cannon Beach, Oregon (my first and foremost love) in terms of quaint hospitality but also offers busses en route to many amazing countryside destinations (such as the Cliffs) and, again, the people were beyond hospitable. Ireland was an absolute dream. I am dead set and determined to return in the very near future to explore it some more. This time, I intend to come prepared this time with a phone book or monologue to have every Irishman dictate to me.
It is a sad but solid fact that Irish accents could make even the coldest spinster weak at the knees. I could not be more in love with the Irish as a collective unit. Their friendly natures, kind temperaments and culture all are universally appealing and a welcome change to Parisian attitudes towards Americans. I can say with conviction that Ireland was the first country we have visited that I could realistically see myself living. We experienced the St Pattys day parade/ festivities in full splendor as a partial celebration for one of our friend's 21st birthday and also got a chance to view some historical elements (Book of Kels, Trinity College, St Patrick's Church, Dublin Castle) and some beautiful elements (Coastal regions, Galway, Cliffs of Moher). Everything was lush, green, and breathtaking. The Book of Kels was an exceptionally interesting part of Irish history and we got a chance to learn the process that was used to create this amazing artifact while we got a tour of the campus (which puts our Ivy league to shame). My favorite place in Ireland was Galway. This cozy town rivals Cannon Beach, Oregon (my first and foremost love) in terms of quaint hospitality but also offers busses en route to many amazing countryside destinations (such as the Cliffs) and, again, the people were beyond hospitable. Ireland was an absolute dream. I am dead set and determined to return in the very near future to explore it some more. This time, I intend to come prepared this time with a phone book or monologue to have every Irishman dictate to me.
Metro, thats French for Metro/ Spring Break Part I
3/12/2010-- Paris, France
There are teachable moments in life that I welcome, and some that are a little less than welcome. Upon our arrival to Paris, our group of seven consequently looked at one another as to say, "OK, now what?" and to our utter surprise, no one had any semblance of a game plan. We rapidly realized that the piece of paper that housed all of the information concerning our hostel and how to get there was attached to Michaela's boarding pass... which had been ripped in Pisa 3 hours prior. Upon this discovery, one could rise to a state of panic. While this was not the way we would have dreamed of starting our week long European excursion, it was a wee little snafu that we had to hurdle so we went into primal, survival mode because at that point, getting to a bed and some food was a matter of the utmost survival. Eventually (and thankfully sans a meltdown) we made our way to our DARLING hostel located in the 18th district of Paris. Our windows overlooked the famous Sacre Couer church. We slept, ate, slept again and awoke refreshed and rejuvenated for the week ahead.
Day 1: We bit off a large portion of Parisian tourism. Beginning with the Arc de Triumph, walking the Champs de Elysees (seeing the original Louis Vuitton store), Royal Palace, climbing the tower of Eiffel(Paris loves stairs and bread), attending mass at Notre Dame and ending the day with dinner in the trendy, young Latin Quarter.
Day 2: The Louvre. Absolutely phenomenal. I fell in love with the piece "Winged Victory," and obviously was blown away by the classics (Mona, Venus, etc). We then attempted to find the ancient catacombs of Paris. This also proved to be a task in and of itself. We asked various street vendors until we finally came upon one kind soul who semi-understood the combination of Hailey's one semester of beginners French and our blatant English. The kicker was when we told him we wanted to go on the train and he did not understand so we typed the word "m-e-t-r-o," into his handy-dandy iPhone and voila! "Oh, oh, oui, oui, Metro, in French that is pronounced METRO," our young friend said. This crucial distinction proved it's merit and allowed him to direct us to our destination. Upon arrival, the catacombs were closed and so we redirected our route to the Luxembourg Palace and Gardens which proved to be an unexpected treat. The sun was out and the afternoon was glorious.
Day 3: Also an unexpected twist was Versailles being closed only on Mondays which, naturally, was the day we had designated to be our Versailles day. But off we went to see Moulin Rouge, the cemetery that houses graves of greats such as Chopin, Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde, the original Bon Marche and ended by climbing the Arc de Triumph to watch the glorious tower sparkle. It was the perfect end to an unexpectedly amazing four days.
There are teachable moments in life that I welcome, and some that are a little less than welcome. Upon our arrival to Paris, our group of seven consequently looked at one another as to say, "OK, now what?" and to our utter surprise, no one had any semblance of a game plan. We rapidly realized that the piece of paper that housed all of the information concerning our hostel and how to get there was attached to Michaela's boarding pass... which had been ripped in Pisa 3 hours prior. Upon this discovery, one could rise to a state of panic. While this was not the way we would have dreamed of starting our week long European excursion, it was a wee little snafu that we had to hurdle so we went into primal, survival mode because at that point, getting to a bed and some food was a matter of the utmost survival. Eventually (and thankfully sans a meltdown) we made our way to our DARLING hostel located in the 18th district of Paris. Our windows overlooked the famous Sacre Couer church. We slept, ate, slept again and awoke refreshed and rejuvenated for the week ahead.
Day 1: We bit off a large portion of Parisian tourism. Beginning with the Arc de Triumph, walking the Champs de Elysees (seeing the original Louis Vuitton store), Royal Palace, climbing the tower of Eiffel(Paris loves stairs and bread), attending mass at Notre Dame and ending the day with dinner in the trendy, young Latin Quarter.
Day 2: The Louvre. Absolutely phenomenal. I fell in love with the piece "Winged Victory," and obviously was blown away by the classics (Mona, Venus, etc). We then attempted to find the ancient catacombs of Paris. This also proved to be a task in and of itself. We asked various street vendors until we finally came upon one kind soul who semi-understood the combination of Hailey's one semester of beginners French and our blatant English. The kicker was when we told him we wanted to go on the train and he did not understand so we typed the word "m-e-t-r-o," into his handy-dandy iPhone and voila! "Oh, oh, oui, oui, Metro, in French that is pronounced METRO," our young friend said. This crucial distinction proved it's merit and allowed him to direct us to our destination. Upon arrival, the catacombs were closed and so we redirected our route to the Luxembourg Palace and Gardens which proved to be an unexpected treat. The sun was out and the afternoon was glorious.
Day 3: Also an unexpected twist was Versailles being closed only on Mondays which, naturally, was the day we had designated to be our Versailles day. But off we went to see Moulin Rouge, the cemetery that houses graves of greats such as Chopin, Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde, the original Bon Marche and ended by climbing the Arc de Triumph to watch the glorious tower sparkle. It was the perfect end to an unexpectedly amazing four days.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Secret handshakes, clubs, and bakeries
2/26/2010-- Florence, Italy
My homework today consisted of the luxurious combination of a cappuccino and Italian Vogue. I love my Italian life. This weekend was spent solely in this unbelievable city that I am fortunate enough to call home. Friday: Michaela and I discovered the lone Thai restaurant in all of Florence (inadvertently) and I about cried tears of joy. After a delicious lunch, we ventured to Piazza Michelangelo (my favorite place in the whole of the city) and ended the night with a mind-blowing dinner of pear fiochetti at Quattro Leoni, a quaint Trattoria across the Arno. Saturday: We went to the triangle bridge where we bumped into a friend of mine from highschool (smallest world) who is also studying abroad in Firenze and who proceeded to steer us towards some of the better vintage shopping I have ever experienced. We then attempted to attend appertivo at a local bar called Rex but got re-routed due to time to a cozy bistro and then picked up drinks at one of our favorite bars Cafe Bigalo and proceeded to end the evening dancing to Johnny Cash at a hidden music club called The Blob Club. The only thing that could have even potentially surpassed Blob in terms of cool factor is our nightcap of euro pastries from one of Florence's many secret bakeries. Pastries for many bakeries around Florence are made at these locations late in the night and can be purchased for cheap by those who are nocturnal enough to see the flour billowing out of the doors or savvy enough to know the exact doors to knock at. My Florentine weekend could not have been more relaxing nor more perfect. I am so so blessed to be able to be living in this city and I look forward to discovering it even more as the semester progresses.
My homework today consisted of the luxurious combination of a cappuccino and Italian Vogue. I love my Italian life. This weekend was spent solely in this unbelievable city that I am fortunate enough to call home. Friday: Michaela and I discovered the lone Thai restaurant in all of Florence (inadvertently) and I about cried tears of joy. After a delicious lunch, we ventured to Piazza Michelangelo (my favorite place in the whole of the city) and ended the night with a mind-blowing dinner of pear fiochetti at Quattro Leoni, a quaint Trattoria across the Arno. Saturday: We went to the triangle bridge where we bumped into a friend of mine from highschool (smallest world) who is also studying abroad in Firenze and who proceeded to steer us towards some of the better vintage shopping I have ever experienced. We then attempted to attend appertivo at a local bar called Rex but got re-routed due to time to a cozy bistro and then picked up drinks at one of our favorite bars Cafe Bigalo and proceeded to end the evening dancing to Johnny Cash at a hidden music club called The Blob Club. The only thing that could have even potentially surpassed Blob in terms of cool factor is our nightcap of euro pastries from one of Florence's many secret bakeries. Pastries for many bakeries around Florence are made at these locations late in the night and can be purchased for cheap by those who are nocturnal enough to see the flour billowing out of the doors or savvy enough to know the exact doors to knock at. My Florentine weekend could not have been more relaxing nor more perfect. I am so so blessed to be able to be living in this city and I look forward to discovering it even more as the semester progresses.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Making friends with castle guards, transit police, and John Lenon
2/19/2010-- Prague, Czech Republic
Within my first 30 minutes in Prague, I felt like a boss tycoon. Exchanging euro for crown may or may not have been one of the more empowering fiscal transactions I have ever participated in. Walking away with thousands in your wallet puts a definite spring into one's step. My trip to Prague I quickly learned was a trip of what I had foolishly assumed to be exaggerations turned truths. For example: I did not actually believe (halfway for self-preservation) that our bus ride would ACTUALLY be 12 hours long, or that it would ACTUALLY be a high of 15 degrees our first day. Or, that a city could actually be this phenomenal. We participated in a walking tour the first day that hit all the highlights: the Charles bridge, Prague Castle (where we took great pleasure in posing with the castle guards as we caressed their muscles and pretended to kiss their cheeks in order to illicit the slightest smile to escape there usual stony gaze)Lenon wall (my personal favorite), the Jewish Quarter and ended in an Americanized bakery that boasted a plethora of bagels and other delicacies that we have been fiending for. My poison of choice was chili and carrot cake with iced tea, which could not have tasted better. The only tiny (and also unexpected, presumably exaggerated) speed bump we encountered was the Czech Transit Police. After our entry into the subway terminal, we were stopped by a very official (and angry) looking guard who proceeded to explain to us (naive americans)that there was no terminal with which to purchase tickets to the subway and by entering the building some odd 50 feet before, we had violated some super scary Czech law that now facilitated us coughing up 700 crown to ride the subway ONE STOP. This ticket would have regularly cost us under 1 euro. Had we not been compliant with his demands he was quick to point out his slick i-phone was at the ready to phone for backup and send us to the big house. Spending a night in Czech jail is about on par for me with listening to the Beegees everyday for the rest of my life, so we took all necessary measures to avoid this wee little snafu. All in all, lessons learned, advice headed, we returned to Florence up a great many stories and more seasoned travelers than before we departed on our Eastern European adventure. Proust!
Within my first 30 minutes in Prague, I felt like a boss tycoon. Exchanging euro for crown may or may not have been one of the more empowering fiscal transactions I have ever participated in. Walking away with thousands in your wallet puts a definite spring into one's step. My trip to Prague I quickly learned was a trip of what I had foolishly assumed to be exaggerations turned truths. For example: I did not actually believe (halfway for self-preservation) that our bus ride would ACTUALLY be 12 hours long, or that it would ACTUALLY be a high of 15 degrees our first day. Or, that a city could actually be this phenomenal. We participated in a walking tour the first day that hit all the highlights: the Charles bridge, Prague Castle (where we took great pleasure in posing with the castle guards as we caressed their muscles and pretended to kiss their cheeks in order to illicit the slightest smile to escape there usual stony gaze)Lenon wall (my personal favorite), the Jewish Quarter and ended in an Americanized bakery that boasted a plethora of bagels and other delicacies that we have been fiending for. My poison of choice was chili and carrot cake with iced tea, which could not have tasted better. The only tiny (and also unexpected, presumably exaggerated) speed bump we encountered was the Czech Transit Police. After our entry into the subway terminal, we were stopped by a very official (and angry) looking guard who proceeded to explain to us (naive americans)that there was no terminal with which to purchase tickets to the subway and by entering the building some odd 50 feet before, we had violated some super scary Czech law that now facilitated us coughing up 700 crown to ride the subway ONE STOP. This ticket would have regularly cost us under 1 euro. Had we not been compliant with his demands he was quick to point out his slick i-phone was at the ready to phone for backup and send us to the big house. Spending a night in Czech jail is about on par for me with listening to the Beegees everyday for the rest of my life, so we took all necessary measures to avoid this wee little snafu. All in all, lessons learned, advice headed, we returned to Florence up a great many stories and more seasoned travelers than before we departed on our Eastern European adventure. Proust!
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