I'm back in America!! It feels like I was never in Italy--like a short dream. And somehow it always comes up in conversation.
I miss walking everywhere, all the parks, coffee culture, fine wine (the horrible stuff here is crazy expensive. Especially when the great stuff was so cheap in Italy), being able to sip a cocktail outside. I'm losing the language so quickly!! As I got off the plane, I kept mumbling semi-coherent sentences about how America is "colorless" and "too big" and "the roofs are wierd". I was astounded by my bedroom door, which didn't scrape the ground like the one in Italy. Also carpet, which is magical.
I'm realizing, the more that I think about my experience, the more I got out of it. I really DO recognize the importance of diversity, European politics, and independence better. But it's quite nice to be in old habits: huge kitchens, my friends and family, INTERNET, endless books in English, the dollar, auto driers, squirrels, understanding everything other people say, driving, roominess, lawns...it's amazing.
Italy was a great experience, but I'm so happy to be back. I hope I can go back to Europe with my loved ones soon--only way it could be better!
Anyway, thanks for reading through all my posts everyone. I'm glad I kept the blog going (in huge chunks at a time..). I hope you got as much out of this as I did Italy :) Thanks for all the support!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Final Fun Facts
Random things about the Italians:
So many cobblestone streets! And nothing is in a grid pattern: its always a maze. One of the benefits to town-planning of the 19-20th century. Many old cities are from the Middle Ages, where circular streets prevailed--ugh!
Their blinds are on the outside of the window, and are controlled by pullies. It look like when a security system is alerted, and wooden planks sheath all the windows! Other privacy measures include balcony awnings that cover the whole front, so people can’t watch you from the street.
They walk a lot more. At least in the historic center. Driving is a nightmare, but you can walk everywhere in most cities. There are suburbs of Verona where you need to drive to get to the store, but I love how it feels like college here! it’s a ten minute walk tops to the grocery store, and the “corner stores” are all around--so convenient!
Preferred snacks: little circular crunchy things, or long stick crunchy things. Sort of like crackers, but thicker.
Graffiti is an Italian word, and fore good reason: its everywhere.
Drinking is part of the culture. People drink a beer in the park often, and most have wine with dinner. It’s not about getting drunk, it just tastes good with your meal. Teenagers still drink (drinking age is 16) in access, and in public. It’s not illegal as much as frowned upon. I watched some 15 year olds chug sambuca during Carnival: lovely. I saw another group with a shopping cart (didn’t realize they even had those here) filled with booze and mixers. Grappa is the national liquor, but wine is pretty hard to overindulge in: hangovers from hell. I will miss the option of drinking outside a bar or in an apartment: its nice to enjoy nature with a glass of wine!
Everything you know about Italy is actually about Sicily. Sicily is pretty different from the mainland. Its like thinking the US is all like Texas or Hawaii or California--its an extreme. “Capisce” (think: Godfather) is part of the Sicilian dialect. In standard Italian, that’s capisci. The nasally Godfather accent is also the Sicilian accent. Most people still speak their dialect, but always speak Standard Italian. Its considered improper to speak dialect outside your region (sort of like saying ain’t, or whatever; you don’t speak it in formal settings). Standard Italian is based on the Florentine dialect--the seat of high culture. Accents that are really easy to pick out: Sicilian (because you can’t understand them!) and Venetian (they don’t roll their r, or as my roommate says, they have a weak r. This makes me feel like an invalid since mine is weak also. She says it sounds Spanish when I do it)
They do talk with their hands a lot, but so do plenty of Americans. They do that hilarious all the fingers together thing when they’re angry though.
They always sound angry or annoyed though, its just part of how excited they get. Really, they’re passionate people. I think my roommates are fighting, when they’re just discussing tv. This translates over in their English, too!
For the love of pomodoro, its GRAZIE. As in Graat-si-ay. Not Graat-si. Yes I’m positive.
So many cobblestone streets! And nothing is in a grid pattern: its always a maze. One of the benefits to town-planning of the 19-20th century. Many old cities are from the Middle Ages, where circular streets prevailed--ugh!
Their blinds are on the outside of the window, and are controlled by pullies. It look like when a security system is alerted, and wooden planks sheath all the windows! Other privacy measures include balcony awnings that cover the whole front, so people can’t watch you from the street.
They walk a lot more. At least in the historic center. Driving is a nightmare, but you can walk everywhere in most cities. There are suburbs of Verona where you need to drive to get to the store, but I love how it feels like college here! it’s a ten minute walk tops to the grocery store, and the “corner stores” are all around--so convenient!
Preferred snacks: little circular crunchy things, or long stick crunchy things. Sort of like crackers, but thicker.
Graffiti is an Italian word, and fore good reason: its everywhere.
Drinking is part of the culture. People drink a beer in the park often, and most have wine with dinner. It’s not about getting drunk, it just tastes good with your meal. Teenagers still drink (drinking age is 16) in access, and in public. It’s not illegal as much as frowned upon. I watched some 15 year olds chug sambuca during Carnival: lovely. I saw another group with a shopping cart (didn’t realize they even had those here) filled with booze and mixers. Grappa is the national liquor, but wine is pretty hard to overindulge in: hangovers from hell. I will miss the option of drinking outside a bar or in an apartment: its nice to enjoy nature with a glass of wine!
Everything you know about Italy is actually about Sicily. Sicily is pretty different from the mainland. Its like thinking the US is all like Texas or Hawaii or California--its an extreme. “Capisce” (think: Godfather) is part of the Sicilian dialect. In standard Italian, that’s capisci. The nasally Godfather accent is also the Sicilian accent. Most people still speak their dialect, but always speak Standard Italian. Its considered improper to speak dialect outside your region (sort of like saying ain’t, or whatever; you don’t speak it in formal settings). Standard Italian is based on the Florentine dialect--the seat of high culture. Accents that are really easy to pick out: Sicilian (because you can’t understand them!) and Venetian (they don’t roll their r, or as my roommate says, they have a weak r. This makes me feel like an invalid since mine is weak also. She says it sounds Spanish when I do it)
They do talk with their hands a lot, but so do plenty of Americans. They do that hilarious all the fingers together thing when they’re angry though.
They always sound angry or annoyed though, its just part of how excited they get. Really, they’re passionate people. I think my roommates are fighting, when they’re just discussing tv. This translates over in their English, too!
For the love of pomodoro, its GRAZIE. As in Graat-si-ay. Not Graat-si. Yes I’m positive.
London Town
My last trip of spring break was to visit my friend Albert, who is studying abroad in London. I only found this out when he posted a status about traveling Europe! He later came to visit me in Verona, traveling Northern Italy.
I arrived in Stanstead, and was immediately overwhelmed by a. Signs in English, and English alone b. People understanding what I’m saying and c. The security of Britain. After months of having the top language be something I barely understand, and the bottom being English, having straight English on sign was quite disconcerting. When I started speaking to people, I didn’t trust them to know what I was saying. I didn’t trust my language skills, and I didn’t want to speak in a complicated manner. I just thought everyone would say what, or I’d muddle my words: It was great to gain some self-confidence back!!!
Throughout my travels of Europe, security has been fast, quick, and relatively painless. I do have to get my passport approved since I’m not a citizen, but that doesn’t really bother me. England, however, does not mess around. It is part of the EU (which makes traveling between EU states super easy and painless), but because it’s rich, it has its own rules. You MUST fill out a card, saying where you are staying, describing your purpose in the country, and pretty much be scrutinized. Even British citizens have to do it!! Its pretty much immigration, and it sums up Britain pretty well: suspicious, Big Brother, lots of lines, lots of red tape.
But did I care? No!! I was in London!!!!!!! I’ve done plays set there, I know all the streets, I love Dr Who and candy: I was ready to be a Londoner. I took the Tube (metro with COUCHES for seats) to meet Albert. It’d been about 2 years since we’d last seen each other! We went to Hyde Park to catch up, looked at statues of Achilles, listened to English accents, investigated the rose garden and geese, and made fun of the obligatory couples making out on the grass. He explained Oyster cards to me: like a metro card that gives you a discount, and is much less painful than constantly “queuing” for tickets. I love the word queue. Also Mind the gap, mind the step, all the minding. Albert took me to a grocery store, and I gawked at how much it reminded me of an American store. We eat all the same food. With the exception of Cadbury products and all the strange flavors of chips (Prawns, Roast Chicken, Steak). British people eat worse than we do. Same brands, so much overlap: what a taste of home! We went back to Albert’s place and caught up, and I got to sleep in an actual bed, so that was quite a luxury.
My second day I took a walking tour with Ted and Erica who were also in town. We had an adorable Irish guy. We walked past Buckingham palace, and saw guards process by. The changing of the guard is only in the summer, sadly L We walked past Canada gate, and a park where one of her majesties faced 3 different assassination attempts, but the gun jammed each time. We walked into Traflagar Square, which is a beautiful place with fountains, a free museum (they’re all free, actually, but the CHURCHES charge fees. So does the tower of London), and huge lions made from melted cannons. Our guide told us about Admiral Nelson, which is a story you should google! We walked past Big Ben (Which is a bell, not the tower!) and Westminster and its abbey, hearing the story of Guy Fawkes. The gothic architecture was so intimidating, yet sophisticated. London Town, indeed.
After our tour, our guide took us for fish and chips and cider in a restaurant, and we learned that Central London is well explored by tourists, and thus, everything is horribly expensive. The pound is dropping: 1.68 dollars to a pound. For contrast, the Euro was 1.33, and is now1.48 dollars. Even so, 9 pounds for fish and chips is 15 dollars, and broke the bank for me. As a result, post tour, Erica and I didn’t get to do all the things we wanted. Westminster Abbey? 12 pounds. Tower of London? A disgusting 17. To see half the sights of London I’d be paying 200 dollars, easy. Dreadful. So instead Erica and I took pictures with the enormous lions, and London Bridge. The Tower of London is just as good from the outside, right? I ran into the tour group of Italians I’d met on the plane to London--what are the chances! They remembered me and laughed. Albert and I went out to dinner for curry--the national food of Britain!! It was delicious. I have no idea why Britains like it, besides the fact that it has actual flavor. British food has a bad rep for being fatty, sugary, or lacking flavor. Can’t win J
On my last full day in England, Alberts friends took me with on a picnic outside central London, to the end of “Zone 2” on the Tube. It was beautiful, and we had a lovely time eating hummus and drinking overpriced British wine (poor souls). I took off once more to the Globe, which looked very nice from the outside, haha. Play season hadn’t started yet (NOTHING FUN HAPPENS UNTIL TOURIST SEASON, AGH! Arena, why wont you let me see Aidaaaaa), so I went on my merry way. On the way to the Globe, I stumbled onto a market (can’t remember the name, sorry Ellen darling). It specialized in food, and I strolled the booths, buying a traditional English pie from a recommended place (Steak and Guinness), an Iced Tea (only tea I had in London, whoops), and some fudge J It was full of cheese and all sorts of goodies.
Post food and theatre time, I went to St Pauls Cathedral, which again, looked great from the outside. Nearby was Mark and Spencers, renowned for their great foods!! Picked up some Cadbury bars, and tried so hard to find clotted cream L No luck. I never did get a good tea fix. Near St Pauls was also Fleet St (lacking in Demon Barbers) and an old fashioned touristy candy shop that felt like part of Willy Wonka. I got some treacle toffee there, which turned out to be disgusting :P I barely missed the closing of the British Museum; ce la vie! I decided to search for Dr Who memorabilia instead; apparently the britains arent big fans, because I found NIENTE! As it was my final night in London, Albert and some friends took me to a pub, which had a fun Victorian feel. They had black currant syrup, so I had some in my cider (best girl drink EVER!).
I took off the next morning. Britain was pretty much America with a silly, silly, and sometimes difficult to understand accent. There are plenty of immigrants who speak English poorly, the same food, the same stores, the same language. All the stores take credit cards, even for purchases under 5 lbs (thank you starbuckssss)They don’t dress well(compared to the rest of Europe), they’re very organized, and pretty much have the same attitude towards life. Although I feel like British folk are a bit more downtrodden: they’re used to waiting in line, staying on the right for the escalator, not exercising enough. The government felt VERY oppressive: they described homeless people on signs as nuisances equivalent to pigeons. Security cameras everywhere. I don’t know, I feel like most Americans wouldn’t take it sitting down.
All in all, I had a great time. Cheerio, old bean!
I arrived in Stanstead, and was immediately overwhelmed by a. Signs in English, and English alone b. People understanding what I’m saying and c. The security of Britain. After months of having the top language be something I barely understand, and the bottom being English, having straight English on sign was quite disconcerting. When I started speaking to people, I didn’t trust them to know what I was saying. I didn’t trust my language skills, and I didn’t want to speak in a complicated manner. I just thought everyone would say what, or I’d muddle my words: It was great to gain some self-confidence back!!!
Throughout my travels of Europe, security has been fast, quick, and relatively painless. I do have to get my passport approved since I’m not a citizen, but that doesn’t really bother me. England, however, does not mess around. It is part of the EU (which makes traveling between EU states super easy and painless), but because it’s rich, it has its own rules. You MUST fill out a card, saying where you are staying, describing your purpose in the country, and pretty much be scrutinized. Even British citizens have to do it!! Its pretty much immigration, and it sums up Britain pretty well: suspicious, Big Brother, lots of lines, lots of red tape.
But did I care? No!! I was in London!!!!!!! I’ve done plays set there, I know all the streets, I love Dr Who and candy: I was ready to be a Londoner. I took the Tube (metro with COUCHES for seats) to meet Albert. It’d been about 2 years since we’d last seen each other! We went to Hyde Park to catch up, looked at statues of Achilles, listened to English accents, investigated the rose garden and geese, and made fun of the obligatory couples making out on the grass. He explained Oyster cards to me: like a metro card that gives you a discount, and is much less painful than constantly “queuing” for tickets. I love the word queue. Also Mind the gap, mind the step, all the minding. Albert took me to a grocery store, and I gawked at how much it reminded me of an American store. We eat all the same food. With the exception of Cadbury products and all the strange flavors of chips (Prawns, Roast Chicken, Steak). British people eat worse than we do. Same brands, so much overlap: what a taste of home! We went back to Albert’s place and caught up, and I got to sleep in an actual bed, so that was quite a luxury.
My second day I took a walking tour with Ted and Erica who were also in town. We had an adorable Irish guy. We walked past Buckingham palace, and saw guards process by. The changing of the guard is only in the summer, sadly L We walked past Canada gate, and a park where one of her majesties faced 3 different assassination attempts, but the gun jammed each time. We walked into Traflagar Square, which is a beautiful place with fountains, a free museum (they’re all free, actually, but the CHURCHES charge fees. So does the tower of London), and huge lions made from melted cannons. Our guide told us about Admiral Nelson, which is a story you should google! We walked past Big Ben (Which is a bell, not the tower!) and Westminster and its abbey, hearing the story of Guy Fawkes. The gothic architecture was so intimidating, yet sophisticated. London Town, indeed.
After our tour, our guide took us for fish and chips and cider in a restaurant, and we learned that Central London is well explored by tourists, and thus, everything is horribly expensive. The pound is dropping: 1.68 dollars to a pound. For contrast, the Euro was 1.33, and is now1.48 dollars. Even so, 9 pounds for fish and chips is 15 dollars, and broke the bank for me. As a result, post tour, Erica and I didn’t get to do all the things we wanted. Westminster Abbey? 12 pounds. Tower of London? A disgusting 17. To see half the sights of London I’d be paying 200 dollars, easy. Dreadful. So instead Erica and I took pictures with the enormous lions, and London Bridge. The Tower of London is just as good from the outside, right? I ran into the tour group of Italians I’d met on the plane to London--what are the chances! They remembered me and laughed. Albert and I went out to dinner for curry--the national food of Britain!! It was delicious. I have no idea why Britains like it, besides the fact that it has actual flavor. British food has a bad rep for being fatty, sugary, or lacking flavor. Can’t win J
On my last full day in England, Alberts friends took me with on a picnic outside central London, to the end of “Zone 2” on the Tube. It was beautiful, and we had a lovely time eating hummus and drinking overpriced British wine (poor souls). I took off once more to the Globe, which looked very nice from the outside, haha. Play season hadn’t started yet (NOTHING FUN HAPPENS UNTIL TOURIST SEASON, AGH! Arena, why wont you let me see Aidaaaaa), so I went on my merry way. On the way to the Globe, I stumbled onto a market (can’t remember the name, sorry Ellen darling). It specialized in food, and I strolled the booths, buying a traditional English pie from a recommended place (Steak and Guinness), an Iced Tea (only tea I had in London, whoops), and some fudge J It was full of cheese and all sorts of goodies.
Post food and theatre time, I went to St Pauls Cathedral, which again, looked great from the outside. Nearby was Mark and Spencers, renowned for their great foods!! Picked up some Cadbury bars, and tried so hard to find clotted cream L No luck. I never did get a good tea fix. Near St Pauls was also Fleet St (lacking in Demon Barbers) and an old fashioned touristy candy shop that felt like part of Willy Wonka. I got some treacle toffee there, which turned out to be disgusting :P I barely missed the closing of the British Museum; ce la vie! I decided to search for Dr Who memorabilia instead; apparently the britains arent big fans, because I found NIENTE! As it was my final night in London, Albert and some friends took me to a pub, which had a fun Victorian feel. They had black currant syrup, so I had some in my cider (best girl drink EVER!).
I took off the next morning. Britain was pretty much America with a silly, silly, and sometimes difficult to understand accent. There are plenty of immigrants who speak English poorly, the same food, the same stores, the same language. All the stores take credit cards, even for purchases under 5 lbs (thank you starbuckssss)They don’t dress well(compared to the rest of Europe), they’re very organized, and pretty much have the same attitude towards life. Although I feel like British folk are a bit more downtrodden: they’re used to waiting in line, staying on the right for the escalator, not exercising enough. The government felt VERY oppressive: they described homeless people on signs as nuisances equivalent to pigeons. Security cameras everywhere. I don’t know, I feel like most Americans wouldn’t take it sitting down.
All in all, I had a great time. Cheerio, old bean!
Il Vaticano, or Ciao al papa!
On my last day in Rome, I went to the Vatican! The Vatican is the world’s smallest country--it has stores and stuff in it, btw! The Vatican is a separate country because Italy wanted it to stop influencing politics.I went on Ash Wednesday, and reserved my ticket to the Museums online--the line stretches for blocks! As we entered the city (we took a bus, its kinda far out, there’s also a metro), we had to go through security--one does not simply walk into the Vatican! We didn’t have to show passports though, hah J
As we walked in, there was a huge congregation--I assumed because, ya know, its holy week at the Vatican. No, it’s because THE POPE WAS TALKING! He was seated in front of St. Peter’s, talking about Ash Wednesday, Easter, etc, in Italian. He didn’t have his hat on though. He was seated under an awning, and looked quite sleepy--it was rather hot. There was a lot of people seated, listening, watching the big screens he was blown up on. I’m not even Catholic, at it was cool.
We took this as a chance to bolt for the Sistine chapel, while the line was shorter. It was still about an hour or two--I left my friend behind since I had a reservation. Tour guides charging 40 euro offered to get me to the front, but I declined--you can always listen to them for free on the inside, its so packed!
It’s hard to describe the Vatican museums. For one, there are like 7 separate wings, and they’re all packed with the world’s best art. There were rooms with animal sculptures, rooms with huge statues of Roman emperors and gods, rooms of tapestries, maps, Hebrew slabs--it was over the top.
To be honest, it was really upsetting. All of these were amassed to show the power of the Church, to increase its splendor, and kept in a private collection. Its deprivation to the rest of the world. The amount of artifacts was insane: almost more than the Lourve. I personally think most of that should be put in a public museum, not one that costs 12 euro to get into.
Frustration or not, it was amazing to see so much in so little time. It always devalues the last things you see though--as we waited to get into the sistine chapel, no one paid attention to the modern art wing we were in. Such is life. I entered the Sistine Chapel, and it was nothing like what I thought it would be. The ceiling (which is surprisingly small--it’s a chapel after all, not Notre Dame. I thought of like, the entire dome of St Peters or something) is covered in 9 panels down the middle: 3 show the creation of man, 3 show the fall of man, and 3 show the flood. Surrounding these are large depictions of various biblical figures. The largest wall in the chapel is Michelangelo’s fresco “The Last Judgment.” A fresco is a painting done on fresh plaster, which preserves the color very well, but is EXTREMELY difficult and takes a fast, yet skillful painter. No chance for mistakes, no ability to cover large areas with a base color, etc. It’s frustrating! It took Michelangelo 4 years to paint this Sistine Chapel, and he only did so (he was a sculptor, finding painting too easy--if you see the David, you’ll agree it was a waste of his time! He was so amazing!) because otherwise the Pope said he would wage war with his home, Florence--how awful!
All of the paintings were quite stunning. I brought a book with me to guide me through each panel, and I got so much more out of it. The Last Judgment is a terrifying painting--hell truly breaking loose. Not quite as awful as the Duomo, but still awful. However, I got a glimpse into the average tourist, and why Europeans hate Americans. Next to me, on the coveted bench on the wall to sit and enjoy the paintings, was a group of 3 American women. One girl was confused, and was like “The top is Heaven, right” “Yeah” “Why aren’t they happy” “It’s the Last Judgment” “What’s that” …why even bother coming. It truly shows our ignorance, when we, this supposedly extra conservative country, don’t even know the Bible. Gays getting married is against the Bible? How do you know, you obviously didn’t get to the end. Ugh.
After the Sistine Chapel, I went into the actual Vatican. The Pope was gone at that point, which is good, because otherwise it would be closed!! The Vatican itself is free: hurray! We went through security, which exists to check your bags and tell you to cover up. Some poor woman in a skirt was told to “cover her legs”. Embarassing! I went into the tomb of the popes first: quite eery. 3 rows of old popes and cardinals, along with the supposed burying place of St. Peter. I came upon John Paul II’s grave, and there were many people behind a rope praying to him. His tombstone is very odd: It’s a huge, long piece of marble, with just “Giovanni Paolo II” on it, at a slight angle above the ground. Most of the other popes are in sarcophagi of marble. However, this was before he was beatified (step before sainthood): he is actually being moved into St. Peters now!! This was the week before he was moved. Crazy timing. After the tomb of the popes, I skipped the dome (I’ve had enough of heights, thank you) and went into St Peters. Its beautiful, and awe inspiring. It has a few glass caskets with the bodies of old popes and saints. One had no mask, and was so pale and waxy--quite terrifying, really. But they dress them in super comfy clothes (slippers!), so lucky popes. They also had a seat, high up on the wall behind the altar thing (all these catholic churches have these square areas behind the altar covered with pillars and a roof, I don’t get it), which I think is supposed to be for Jesus. Overall, St Peters because amazing, awesome, beautiful, and above all, decadent.
Oh, the world’s oldest post office is in the Vatican! It still functions, and you can buy post cards to send from there. Sorry guys, I was broke. Hope you enjoyed the ones from Greece!
I went to Circo Massimo and the Spanish Steps after I finished the Vatican. Circo Massimo (Circus Massimus) is the old Roman race track, and now pretty much an indented patch of grass, nice for a picnic J I climbed the Spanish Steps, and did a little people watching before I got on my night train to Verona. That train goes all the way to Germany, and I was the only one who didn’t speak German(even the Italians!): but everyone also spoke English! Hurray, these multilingual people. After such an exhausting, full-out trip, I was ready to enjoy a weekend with Albert, and then take in Verona for two weeks before I left! (3 days!!)
As we walked in, there was a huge congregation--I assumed because, ya know, its holy week at the Vatican. No, it’s because THE POPE WAS TALKING! He was seated in front of St. Peter’s, talking about Ash Wednesday, Easter, etc, in Italian. He didn’t have his hat on though. He was seated under an awning, and looked quite sleepy--it was rather hot. There was a lot of people seated, listening, watching the big screens he was blown up on. I’m not even Catholic, at it was cool.
We took this as a chance to bolt for the Sistine chapel, while the line was shorter. It was still about an hour or two--I left my friend behind since I had a reservation. Tour guides charging 40 euro offered to get me to the front, but I declined--you can always listen to them for free on the inside, its so packed!
It’s hard to describe the Vatican museums. For one, there are like 7 separate wings, and they’re all packed with the world’s best art. There were rooms with animal sculptures, rooms with huge statues of Roman emperors and gods, rooms of tapestries, maps, Hebrew slabs--it was over the top.
To be honest, it was really upsetting. All of these were amassed to show the power of the Church, to increase its splendor, and kept in a private collection. Its deprivation to the rest of the world. The amount of artifacts was insane: almost more than the Lourve. I personally think most of that should be put in a public museum, not one that costs 12 euro to get into.
Frustration or not, it was amazing to see so much in so little time. It always devalues the last things you see though--as we waited to get into the sistine chapel, no one paid attention to the modern art wing we were in. Such is life. I entered the Sistine Chapel, and it was nothing like what I thought it would be. The ceiling (which is surprisingly small--it’s a chapel after all, not Notre Dame. I thought of like, the entire dome of St Peters or something) is covered in 9 panels down the middle: 3 show the creation of man, 3 show the fall of man, and 3 show the flood. Surrounding these are large depictions of various biblical figures. The largest wall in the chapel is Michelangelo’s fresco “The Last Judgment.” A fresco is a painting done on fresh plaster, which preserves the color very well, but is EXTREMELY difficult and takes a fast, yet skillful painter. No chance for mistakes, no ability to cover large areas with a base color, etc. It’s frustrating! It took Michelangelo 4 years to paint this Sistine Chapel, and he only did so (he was a sculptor, finding painting too easy--if you see the David, you’ll agree it was a waste of his time! He was so amazing!) because otherwise the Pope said he would wage war with his home, Florence--how awful!
All of the paintings were quite stunning. I brought a book with me to guide me through each panel, and I got so much more out of it. The Last Judgment is a terrifying painting--hell truly breaking loose. Not quite as awful as the Duomo, but still awful. However, I got a glimpse into the average tourist, and why Europeans hate Americans. Next to me, on the coveted bench on the wall to sit and enjoy the paintings, was a group of 3 American women. One girl was confused, and was like “The top is Heaven, right” “Yeah” “Why aren’t they happy” “It’s the Last Judgment” “What’s that” …why even bother coming. It truly shows our ignorance, when we, this supposedly extra conservative country, don’t even know the Bible. Gays getting married is against the Bible? How do you know, you obviously didn’t get to the end. Ugh.
After the Sistine Chapel, I went into the actual Vatican. The Pope was gone at that point, which is good, because otherwise it would be closed!! The Vatican itself is free: hurray! We went through security, which exists to check your bags and tell you to cover up. Some poor woman in a skirt was told to “cover her legs”. Embarassing! I went into the tomb of the popes first: quite eery. 3 rows of old popes and cardinals, along with the supposed burying place of St. Peter. I came upon John Paul II’s grave, and there were many people behind a rope praying to him. His tombstone is very odd: It’s a huge, long piece of marble, with just “Giovanni Paolo II” on it, at a slight angle above the ground. Most of the other popes are in sarcophagi of marble. However, this was before he was beatified (step before sainthood): he is actually being moved into St. Peters now!! This was the week before he was moved. Crazy timing. After the tomb of the popes, I skipped the dome (I’ve had enough of heights, thank you) and went into St Peters. Its beautiful, and awe inspiring. It has a few glass caskets with the bodies of old popes and saints. One had no mask, and was so pale and waxy--quite terrifying, really. But they dress them in super comfy clothes (slippers!), so lucky popes. They also had a seat, high up on the wall behind the altar thing (all these catholic churches have these square areas behind the altar covered with pillars and a roof, I don’t get it), which I think is supposed to be for Jesus. Overall, St Peters because amazing, awesome, beautiful, and above all, decadent.
Oh, the world’s oldest post office is in the Vatican! It still functions, and you can buy post cards to send from there. Sorry guys, I was broke. Hope you enjoyed the ones from Greece!
I went to Circo Massimo and the Spanish Steps after I finished the Vatican. Circo Massimo (Circus Massimus) is the old Roman race track, and now pretty much an indented patch of grass, nice for a picnic J I climbed the Spanish Steps, and did a little people watching before I got on my night train to Verona. That train goes all the way to Germany, and I was the only one who didn’t speak German(even the Italians!): but everyone also spoke English! Hurray, these multilingual people. After such an exhausting, full-out trip, I was ready to enjoy a weekend with Albert, and then take in Verona for two weeks before I left! (3 days!!)
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Barcelona
We got into Barcelona late at night, and took a taxi to our hostel, since it was so far away. Our taxi driver loved us, and since I speak (horrible, horrible, Italian-laced) Spanish, we had a small conversation, where I became “his English teacher”. He was adorable.We stayed at THE COOLEST hostel! It had a real hippy vibe, like the Allen dorm on campus. People hung out in the common room, rolling cigarettes, sitting on the patio, getting beer from the vending machine, playing crazy instruments, or, in general, bumming around. It was our first non-private hostel: we shared our room with an Irish ex-minister, who was 40...and a dude. I have to admit, it was disconcerting. He obviously wasn’t going to bother us, but it was just odd to be with someone we didn’t know.
Our first day, we decided to walk the city. We took the metro (so, so cheap, and takes you everywhere) to La rambla--the main tourist street in Barcelona. We ran into a statue of Christopher Columbus! We both didn’t feel like doing the sights hard, so we went and had some paella, and then went to the beach. It was so amazing to be on the beach during March! It was sandy (for once), and not too packed. The ocean looked beautiful, and we had a great time walking around barefoot.
We stopped at a few churches, and went to La Sagrada Familia--a church designed by Gaudi. Gaudi is a really influential Barcelonan architect: he sort of reminds me of Tim Burton mixed with Salvador Dali. He has plenty of houses and such littered around the city. La Sagrada Familia has been under construction for 100 years! That sounds like a long time, but most churches take 400 or so (granted, before modern technology) years to build. The main structure is up, and they are filling in the stained glass.
La Sagrada Familia, from the front, looks like it is melting, or like wet sand dripping. The back is smooth, and looks almost Arabic. The spires are topped with FRUIT! The inside is amazing, volumous, and so white. Words can’t describe it, but it feels incredibly peaceful. Definitely my favorite church of this trip (and I’ve seen dozens.)
That evening we went out to see a Flamenco show! It was quite fun--most of the people were drunk. There was lots of Spanish guitar, and two women danced two or three times. There’s lots of clicking your heels very quickly, and grand, slow hand gestures. We drank Sangria, and it was delicious! I’ll have to make it at home.
The next day, we only had a few hours. We went on a walking tour of the Gothic Quarter, where we learned about the history of Barcelona and Catalan. Spain used to be divided in multiple kingdoms, and Cataluna was one of them. Once again, it’s a region that wants to separate. Catalunians are quite proud of their language that no one else speaks (we have separate classes at U of I for Spanish and Catalan). The flag of Cataluna is red and yellow stripes, representing a Catalunian kings gold shield, after he took a wound, and wiped his fingers upon it. The Spanish don’t mess around.
There was surprisingly little talk about the Inquisition. We did visit a sanctuary of 13 white (mother goose!) geese, which is for a 13 year old Christian girl, who was persecuted with 13 trials--they were extremely gruesome. I really want to stop hearing about people being hung drung and quartered--Europe seems to have been a fan. Albert brought up that America is no better--tarring and feathering was a horrible process also.
I didn’t go to a bull fight because I’m morally opposed to them. Take that as you will.
Natalie and I ended our day by getting chocolate milk drink (amazing), Spanish Champagne (made from apples, not grapes!), and real tapas: bread topped with various things. There were dozens of choices! I washed it down with a café au lait (which is not what they call it in Cataluna..it’s a café con leche, which is not nearly as satisfying to say.
All in all, I loved Spain! I just wish my Spanish was better (7 years of studies…); its been ruined by Italian. It wouldn’t have helped anyway: Catalan has little overlap with Spanish! Barcelona had a fun, young, vibe to it--they have crazy night clubs (that we didn’t visit, we’re too cheap), and a really lively atmosphere.
Our first day, we decided to walk the city. We took the metro (so, so cheap, and takes you everywhere) to La rambla--the main tourist street in Barcelona. We ran into a statue of Christopher Columbus! We both didn’t feel like doing the sights hard, so we went and had some paella, and then went to the beach. It was so amazing to be on the beach during March! It was sandy (for once), and not too packed. The ocean looked beautiful, and we had a great time walking around barefoot.
We stopped at a few churches, and went to La Sagrada Familia--a church designed by Gaudi. Gaudi is a really influential Barcelonan architect: he sort of reminds me of Tim Burton mixed with Salvador Dali. He has plenty of houses and such littered around the city. La Sagrada Familia has been under construction for 100 years! That sounds like a long time, but most churches take 400 or so (granted, before modern technology) years to build. The main structure is up, and they are filling in the stained glass.
La Sagrada Familia, from the front, looks like it is melting, or like wet sand dripping. The back is smooth, and looks almost Arabic. The spires are topped with FRUIT! The inside is amazing, volumous, and so white. Words can’t describe it, but it feels incredibly peaceful. Definitely my favorite church of this trip (and I’ve seen dozens.)
That evening we went out to see a Flamenco show! It was quite fun--most of the people were drunk. There was lots of Spanish guitar, and two women danced two or three times. There’s lots of clicking your heels very quickly, and grand, slow hand gestures. We drank Sangria, and it was delicious! I’ll have to make it at home.
The next day, we only had a few hours. We went on a walking tour of the Gothic Quarter, where we learned about the history of Barcelona and Catalan. Spain used to be divided in multiple kingdoms, and Cataluna was one of them. Once again, it’s a region that wants to separate. Catalunians are quite proud of their language that no one else speaks (we have separate classes at U of I for Spanish and Catalan). The flag of Cataluna is red and yellow stripes, representing a Catalunian kings gold shield, after he took a wound, and wiped his fingers upon it. The Spanish don’t mess around.
There was surprisingly little talk about the Inquisition. We did visit a sanctuary of 13 white (mother goose!) geese, which is for a 13 year old Christian girl, who was persecuted with 13 trials--they were extremely gruesome. I really want to stop hearing about people being hung drung and quartered--Europe seems to have been a fan. Albert brought up that America is no better--tarring and feathering was a horrible process also.
I didn’t go to a bull fight because I’m morally opposed to them. Take that as you will.
Natalie and I ended our day by getting chocolate milk drink (amazing), Spanish Champagne (made from apples, not grapes!), and real tapas: bread topped with various things. There were dozens of choices! I washed it down with a café au lait (which is not what they call it in Cataluna..it’s a café con leche, which is not nearly as satisfying to say.
All in all, I loved Spain! I just wish my Spanish was better (7 years of studies…); its been ruined by Italian. It wouldn’t have helped anyway: Catalan has little overlap with Spanish! Barcelona had a fun, young, vibe to it--they have crazy night clubs (that we didn’t visit, we’re too cheap), and a really lively atmosphere.
Pizza
It should be noted that pizza here is not American pizza. The crust is much thinner, and chewy--or has a thick, fluffy crust (foccacia) and no sauce.. They are baked in stone ovens. The layer of sauce (if there is any) is miniscule. Cheese is not always a given, but common. More importantly, they think our pizza is a travesty. The flavors are so fun and crazy here (American pizza=French fries!)
Sorry for any food repeats
Bruschetta! Yumm
Spanish meatballs and paella
Tapas, of some many kinds
Parmesan--from parma!
Proscuitto di parma
Traditional Reggio filled pasta
Caviar!
Ricotta cheese--so much creamier and richer than in the states, and not grainy AT ALL! This is why the cannoli and lasagna are so good!
Apple champagne
Sangria
Prosecco and chewing gum flavored gelato
White pizza: no tomato sauce!
Pizza with raddichio (red lettuce) and feta
Pizza with ham and artichoke
Steak and guiness pie (London)
London iced tea
Cadbury milk bars--SO GOOD!
Malteasers (malted milk bars)
Marzipan
Colombo and pandoro--traditional Verona cakes
A traditional southern pie and cake, via Rosamaria
Blood chocolate spread (takes like cinnamon!)
Marscarpone
A huge variety of cheese and wine
Treacle toffee (Not so good)
Spanish meatballs and paella
Tapas, of some many kinds
Parmesan--from parma!
Proscuitto di parma
Traditional Reggio filled pasta
Caviar!
Ricotta cheese--so much creamier and richer than in the states, and not grainy AT ALL! This is why the cannoli and lasagna are so good!
Apple champagne
Sangria
Prosecco and chewing gum flavored gelato
White pizza: no tomato sauce!
Pizza with raddichio (red lettuce) and feta
Pizza with ham and artichoke
Steak and guiness pie (London)
London iced tea
Cadbury milk bars--SO GOOD!
Malteasers (malted milk bars)
Marzipan
Colombo and pandoro--traditional Verona cakes
A traditional southern pie and cake, via Rosamaria
Blood chocolate spread (takes like cinnamon!)
Marscarpone
A huge variety of cheese and wine
Treacle toffee (Not so good)
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