So as usual, I’m terribly behind on this blog. I’m going to do my very best to catch up so that I can start journaling about things that are actually happening rather than things that I did weeks ago. I apologize if I gloss over some things: at this point, I just need to record an outline of my days so that I can remember it in the future. My benefit, not yours. =)
Rome: Mon. Oct. 19 – Tues. Oct. 20
We spent our last day in Rome at the Rome City Hostel on the opposite side of the city from our previous accommodations. It was actually pretty nice to see a different area. It was definitely a unique experience: unknown to us, we were actually staying in a mixed dorm, so our room was the four of us plus one guy from Canada. I think he was intimidated by us at first; we had a bad first impression of him when he walked into the room, grabbed a sweatshirt, and walked out without saying anything to us. He did redeem himself later – his name was Cody, and fortunately, he was not a creep. On the other hand, the four of us were kind of glad that we were only there for one night. Part of that was due to the fact that there were no towels provided for free, so none of us showered on Tuesday.
We left our luggage at the hostel in the morning and spent the day seeing a few more Roman landmarks. We stopped at the Pantheon (which was sweet) and ate one last lunch outside, where I had real Italian lasagna. Then we walked down to the Spanish steps and just sat and enjoyed the sunshine. Our final stop for the day was the Trevi fountain in the daylight, where we had our last cups/cones of gelato.
By that point, we had to get back to the hostel and pick up our luggage so that we could get to the airport shuttle on time. It’s a good thing that we did, because the shuttle was extremely crowded and smelt like BO from all the people. Then we got stuck in rush hour, so Kaari and I had a great time window shopping from the bus windows (yes, it was moving that slowly).
We made it to the airport in plenty of time – Ciampino airport, I think. Something like that, anyway. We checked our bags and had enough time to eat some airport food, and flew RyanAir for two hours back to London Stansted airport. Our plane landed by 11:30pm just like it was scheduled, but apparently London has the strictest customs of any place we’ve been so far. So we had to wait in an endless line, and it was sometime after 1:00am by the time we made it through.
At that point, none of us wanted to deal with trains and buses and trying to figure out how to get home. So we took a taxi all the way back to the Celtic Hotel, which cost us a grand total of £99. At least there were four of us? But we got back the quickest way possible, and at that point, the time was worth the money.
London: Wed. Oct 21 – Tues. Oct 27
Like I said in my last entry, coming back to London was a relief. I didn’t feel like I needed to go out and see everything, and it was okay to spend an afternoon in London at the laundromat. And after being in Italy and France, it was really nice to be back in a city where most people speak English. I’d forgotten how easy it can be to ask questions when the other person can actually understand what you’re saying.
I actually don’t remember a whole lot of what I did in London, just because my days all blur together. I really just kept the whole week or so pretty low key. And because I don’t know if I’m ever going to finish if I write this out in detail, I’m just going to record a line or two about what I did each day. Terrible for my writing, I know. But like I said, it’ll help me remember it in the future.
Wednesday: laundry day! Catching up online, talking to the rest of the group about free travel experiences.
Thursday: Class. Got a letter from Seth. Went with Erin to Ben’s Cookies and Primark. Evening trip to the Agape center.
Friday: TS Eliot walk with Dan Taylor. Went with Alea to the Imperial War Museum.
Saturday: Seth and I have been dating 5 years! Class. Went with Kaari to Camden markets. Erins’ night out.
Sunday: Coffee, devos, and blogging at Café Nero. Afternoon performance of Beowulf by Benjamin Bagby at the British Library (in original Old English with a six-string harp).
Monday: Class. Evening trip with Evie to Kilburn for dinner and the 8:45 showing of The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus at the Tricycle Theatre.
Tuesday morning we left London for Salomon’s in Tunbridge Wells, just an hour or so south of London. On the way there, we stopped at Penshurst, an old estate and gardens. It featured in several poems (“To Penshurst” by Ben Jonson; home of Lady Mary Wroth) and was actually the filming location of a few scenes of The Other Boleyn Girl – a movie that I feel like I need to see now that I’ve been to Penshurst. But while we were there, it was the perfect autumn day: sunshine, blue skies, brightly colored trees, warm air with a crisp fall breeze.
And actually, that’s been the weather for the majority of our time at Salomon’s. Sometimes it’s cloudy, but in general, the weather is just perfect for autumn. Salomon’s is a big retreat center, so there’s really not much to do here outside of reading, writing, sleeping, and eating. And let me tell you – we certainly get to eat! We get huge meals of amazing food, and somehow, I’m still hungry for the next one. Who knows how that works.
On Wednesday, we did a ropes course here. I had no idea what I was getting into, but it turned out to be a lot of fun (no lame spider webs or trust falls). We did Jacob’s Ladder (a huge ladder where the next rung up was at my neck), a big pole with a small platform at the top that we had to get three people on, another big pole that we had to get two people on, who then jumped for a trapeze, a zip line, and rappelling off a 100 foot clock tower. I think the rappelling was my favorite: I got some sweet jumping action going by the time I made it to the bottom.
Other than that, though, it’s been mainly classes and free time for homework and relaxation. I’ve actually gotten ahead (for once) on my reading and I’ve even had time for a nap. And, as you can see, I’m finally catching up on my blog.
Today is Melissa K’s birthday, so she requested that it be faux-hawk and pigtail day. So, since my hair is physically able, I’m sporting a faux-hawk and pigtails today. I think that it has officially convinced me to never get a really short pixie cut, because since you can’t see all my hair when it’s back in pigtails, the faux-hawk makes me look awfully man-ish. Especially since I experimented by putting on aviators and popping the collar to my leather coat for a few minutes – bad idea. I definitely looked like a man, and I’m pretty sure this look is never going to happen again. Ah well, it’s an experience.
So that gets me back up to the present, so I’m going to end this blog entry here. I think I’ll head off to the classroom building and go on a search for an Ethernet jack and get internet on my laptop so I can call Seth again. Farewell for now!
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
More from Italy
As of right now, I’m back in London. I actually have been for a few days, but it’s just taken me this long to sit down and take time to journal.
Before I go back to talking about Italy, I need to write down a few of my current thoughts. This morning, I was struck with the realization of where I am. I was sitting at breakfast by myself, enjoying a cup of coffee and listening to morning conversation floating around me. And suddenly, I realized where I was. I’ve been living out of a suitcase in England for over two months now, and life just seems normal. I wake up and spend a day hanging out in London, and since I’ve been here before, the pressure to see and do everything has just dissipated. I can look at a day here with absolutely no plans and just go off and do whatever I feel like.
And beyond the physical location, too. I suddenly realized where I am personally. I’m here in London: independent, attractive, and competent. And to such a degree that I haven’t really felt before in my life. I took off on a road trip to Italy with three other girls, and we all planned and paid for it by ourselves. I’ve never done anything remotely like that in the States – not even a weekend to Duluth with friends. I’ve had to watch my own money and deal with problems on my own, even though I did have to ask for help on the check card dilemma. I love and miss people at home, but I have the ability to live on my own without seeing them. Sure, sometimes I still feel inadequate and out of place, but I don’t think that I’ll be the same when I get back home. I don’t think I can specify how life will be different right now, but I can’t imagine coming back home without anything different.
I’ve also seen God in my life in ways that I haven’t before, which is what brings me back to Italy. I left you off last time with a tour of the Vatican, halfway through our first time in Rome. So I’ll finish up with Rome, and then move on to Amalfi – where God brought us safely with the help of several Italian angels.
So after the Vatican museum, we walked around in St. Peter’s Basilica, which is over the supposed location of Peter’s grave. Who knows if that’s actually true, but that’s the theory. That’s also where Michelangelo’s Pieta is, so it was pretty awesome to see it in real life.
We took the rest of the afternoon off, and spent the evening in. We cooked our own dinner and then had a girl’s night involving chocolate. So much fun, and a great bonding time for me, Kaari, Evie, and Anna.
Thursday was another good day. We went out to an outdoor market for the morning and did some shopping. Sometimes going to a market is a little stressful, with all the shopkeepers pouncing as soon as you stop to look at some of their products. (“For you? Great price, only 4 euro.”) I did land a hat, shirt, and some awesome leather boots. I was hoping to find boots for a great price in Italy, just because then I’d always remember boots = Italy. Because Italy is shaped like a boot. Sometimes, I just feel so clever. =)
Then in the evening, we dressed up for a nice dinner out in Rome. We decided to stop out at the Trevi fountain so we could see it at night, and from there found an Italian café. We sat outside and had our pasta and tiramisu, but the best part was our waiter. At one point during the dinner, he stops by and places both hands on our table, fingers spread. “See this?” he said. “This means I am not married.” Then throughout the rest of the night, he would make similar comments. “Afterwards, we could go out for champagne. If you say no, I am kidding. If you say yes, I am serious.” And I could never forget: “For you, I will change my religion and marry all of you, as long as you do not fight.” It was quite the entertainment.
On Friday, we left for Amalfi. We had bought train tickets from Rome to Naples earlier in the week, though fortunately the price this time was only €19.50. We were on an Intercity train instead of Eurostar, which was probably the price difference. But the journey itself was slightly less pleasant, so I was glad it was only about two hours. We were stuffed into compartments of six, kind of like the Hogwarts express (I even saw a food trolley pass by in the hallway – go figure). But the guy sitting across from me was really awkward – he wore camouflage sweatpants and stretched out so much that my legroom was severely impeded. He also had a bad habit of scratching himself in unmentionable places consistently throughout the journey, so I tried my best not to pay attention. I was actually hoping to write about Rome during that train ride, but there was no way I was going to get my computer out. Oh well.
We made it to Naples, though, and our next task was to get tickets for the Circumvesuviana train and get off at the Castellammare del Stabia stop. Sounds easy, right? Not so much. We got our tickets, and dragged our luggage down to the platform to wait for a train heading to Sorrento. A train came up that said Sorrento on the front, so we got on. But once we were on the train, a bunch of people seemed to think that it wasn’t heading in that direction. Once the doors were shutting, a lady kindly told us that no, the train wasn’t going to Sorrento, so we should get off at the next stop and wait for the next train. So we did, and we sat out in the sun for a long time waiting. It got to the point where several trains had gone by and none were for Sorrento, so we decided to just get on the next one that came (don’t ask me how we came to that decision). After we had lugged our luggage aboard, a guy on the platform waved to us, saying, “No Sorrento! No Sorrento!” We looked at him helplessly as the doors shut, and I saw him walk away shaking his head. Oops.
So we got off again at the next stop. We waited a little bit longer, and finally, we got on the right train. But it was really crowded, so we had to stand in a clump with our luggage for the next 40 minutes or so (it was a long train ride). Not the best for our morale, but we made it.
Once we got off the train at Castellammare del Stabia, the directions told us to take the blue Sita bus, which would drop us off in front of the B&B. Our first problem is that we couldn’t find a bus stop. We wandered around for a bit (with our luggage, mind you) and eventually saw a green Sita bus going around the corner by the train station. It was a one way road, so we went back and sat outside and waited. It’s so fortunate that it was nice weather, because we were probably waiting for a good hour or so. Finally, we see a blue Sita bus coming around the corner. It was going slow since it had to turn, but it was obvious that it wasn’t going to stop for us because we weren’t at a stop. Evie took a half step forward and pulled out a pathetic, “Scuzi?” Fortunately, an Italian man nearby noticed our panic and quickly determined that we wanted that bus to Agerola and stopped it for us in the middle of the street. We boarded the bus with all our luggage, probably hitting just about every passenger as we walked through the aisle. But we made it on.
The next problem was that we didn’t know where to get off or how to pay. We started asking some of the other people on the bus, and one man who spoke rudimentary English told us that Campora was after the tunnel. Half an hour later, we drove through a tunnel near the top of a mountain. We perked back to attention and started trying to figure out where our stop was. The problem was that the bus didn’t stop unless someone had pressed the stop button or if someone was waiting, and the stops had no labels and were often hidden so you didn’t see them unless you were looking for the “Fermata Sita” signs that looked an awful lot like a laminated piece of paper.
Our next angel was an elderly woman who jabbered on and on to us in Italian, trying to give us directions to our stop. She was pointing things out with her hand, but none of us had any idea what she was saying. We picked up on a few things like “around.” But when it was our stop, she stood up and called out the bus driver so that he stopped in the right spot, so we left the Sita bus on the road right in front of our B&B.
The next problem was getting there. Evie walked over to a couple of people out on the street and asked where the B&B Il Sentiero was – they told her that it was just up a side street, but the owner Teresa, wasn’t in and we should walk 10 minutes up the road to a Tabacchi to use a phone to call.
So we started walking. We got maybe halfway when we paused by a church for a break. Suddenly, we looked up and there’s a car there. “Il Sentiero? Come, I will take you.” So we loaded the four of us plus our luggage into a tiny car, and the guy started driving. The irony of it all was that he drove back down the road and stopped right where we had gotten out of the Sita bus just a little bit earlier. So our walking was in vain. But he brought us up to the B&B and gave us our key. We had made it! (Though we never did pay for our ride on the Sita bus. Seems to be the Italian way.)
After we had our room, I’m pretty sure the guy that brought us there left. So there was no one working at the B&B that night, and there were no other guests. We were the only ones. The room was really nice, with a queen bed and a bunk bed. The problem was that it was pretty arctic in the room – there was a heater on the wall and we plugged it in, but we could not figure out how to work it. So we spent the nights under piles of blankets (thankfully the wardrobe was well stocked) and still woke up cold in the morning. It was really funny, though, because we woke up at 8:50 or so (breakfast was at 9:00) and just started laughing because we knew we should get up but it was just so cold.
Teresa was there in the morning though, and we had a nice breakfast of chocolate filled croissants and toast biscottis. Not very filling, but it was still breakfast. We paid for our stay and asked Teresa how to work the heater. Apparently there was a remote for the heater in the drawer in the bedstand. Go figure. After we figured out the heating, our room was much more pleasant. Though the hallway and the bathroom were still pretty arctic, so it was a little unpleasant to make trips to the bathroom or to take a shower. We did have hot water (most of the time), so that helped.
The unfortunate part of having heat in our room was the flies. There were flies hanging around, but while it was cold, they were sluggish and took to walking on the floor instead of flying (if that doesn’t tell you how arctic it was, I don’t know what will). But once it warmed up, they were flying around and obnoxious again. Oh, well. Flies are just obnoxious, and there were only about five of them in our room.
Our time in Amalfi/Campora/Agerola was pretty low key and relaxing. We were on the top of a mountain in a little Italian town, where we got stared at as we walked down the street because everybody knew everybody and we were very obviously not from there. We did find a pizzeria just seven minutes from our B&B, though, so we went there every night for dinner. It had great pizza and it was only €3.50 for a big prosciutto pizza – and it was open. Eating there was really strange – many places were closed, and it seemed that restaurants for dinner only opened at 7:00pm and were closed until then. So every night at 7:00, we showed up at our pizzeria. By the second time, they recognized us and expected us, and a couple of the employees would wave to us if we passed by on the street. They were great, though.
On Saturday we took the Sita bus down to Amalfi town, so we did get down to the coast. Our Sita bus driver was awesome, and since we were in the front, he started talking to us in Italian for a few minutes. We smiled and laughed like we knew exactly what was going on, until he asked us if we spoke Italian. We laughed and said no. Evie told him that she spoke a little Spanish, and I think he thought we were Spanish after that. Oh well. He started singing as he was driving, so it was a great time.
We spent the day wandering around the town, but it was very obviously a town where cruise ships stopped. There were a lot of expensive, brand name stores for the cruise ship tourists who had money to spend. Plus, there was a cruise ship anchored out in the sea while we were there.
Amalfi was absolutely beautiful, though. Chilly as well, and we spent the day with jackets, hats, and scarves. But it was endless blue sea that ran right up to the mountains, covered with cute Italian buildings. Just gorgeous.
On Sunday we slept in (Teresa had left our breakfast out in the hallway the day before – we didn’t see her again until Monday morning at breakfast). Then we had devotions in our PJ’s – basically we all took time to talk about how we’ve seen God working and how this trip has been changing us. I think that it was just what I needed. We took a walk to Agerola in the afternoon, and after our traditional pizza for dinner, we spent the evening in.
We left Amalfi on Monday morning, so that was Amalfi in a nutshell. There are just so many memories from that part of the trip – what an adventure! I was kind of relieved to get back to Rome on Monday morning, but I wouldn’t trade my adventure off the beaten trail for anything. I felt like we got to experience a part of Italy that not as many tourists experience.
I think I’ll finish up with Italy later, since we still had one more day in Rome before we left on Tuesday night. But I’m running a little short on time right now, so I think I’ll leave and post this online when I get back to the Celtic Hotel. (I’m at Café Nero right now.) But I don’t have huge plans for the day, so hopefully I’ll get this caught up later this evening. We’ll see.
Before I go back to talking about Italy, I need to write down a few of my current thoughts. This morning, I was struck with the realization of where I am. I was sitting at breakfast by myself, enjoying a cup of coffee and listening to morning conversation floating around me. And suddenly, I realized where I was. I’ve been living out of a suitcase in England for over two months now, and life just seems normal. I wake up and spend a day hanging out in London, and since I’ve been here before, the pressure to see and do everything has just dissipated. I can look at a day here with absolutely no plans and just go off and do whatever I feel like.
And beyond the physical location, too. I suddenly realized where I am personally. I’m here in London: independent, attractive, and competent. And to such a degree that I haven’t really felt before in my life. I took off on a road trip to Italy with three other girls, and we all planned and paid for it by ourselves. I’ve never done anything remotely like that in the States – not even a weekend to Duluth with friends. I’ve had to watch my own money and deal with problems on my own, even though I did have to ask for help on the check card dilemma. I love and miss people at home, but I have the ability to live on my own without seeing them. Sure, sometimes I still feel inadequate and out of place, but I don’t think that I’ll be the same when I get back home. I don’t think I can specify how life will be different right now, but I can’t imagine coming back home without anything different.
I’ve also seen God in my life in ways that I haven’t before, which is what brings me back to Italy. I left you off last time with a tour of the Vatican, halfway through our first time in Rome. So I’ll finish up with Rome, and then move on to Amalfi – where God brought us safely with the help of several Italian angels.
So after the Vatican museum, we walked around in St. Peter’s Basilica, which is over the supposed location of Peter’s grave. Who knows if that’s actually true, but that’s the theory. That’s also where Michelangelo’s Pieta is, so it was pretty awesome to see it in real life.
We took the rest of the afternoon off, and spent the evening in. We cooked our own dinner and then had a girl’s night involving chocolate. So much fun, and a great bonding time for me, Kaari, Evie, and Anna.
Thursday was another good day. We went out to an outdoor market for the morning and did some shopping. Sometimes going to a market is a little stressful, with all the shopkeepers pouncing as soon as you stop to look at some of their products. (“For you? Great price, only 4 euro.”) I did land a hat, shirt, and some awesome leather boots. I was hoping to find boots for a great price in Italy, just because then I’d always remember boots = Italy. Because Italy is shaped like a boot. Sometimes, I just feel so clever. =)
Then in the evening, we dressed up for a nice dinner out in Rome. We decided to stop out at the Trevi fountain so we could see it at night, and from there found an Italian café. We sat outside and had our pasta and tiramisu, but the best part was our waiter. At one point during the dinner, he stops by and places both hands on our table, fingers spread. “See this?” he said. “This means I am not married.” Then throughout the rest of the night, he would make similar comments. “Afterwards, we could go out for champagne. If you say no, I am kidding. If you say yes, I am serious.” And I could never forget: “For you, I will change my religion and marry all of you, as long as you do not fight.” It was quite the entertainment.
On Friday, we left for Amalfi. We had bought train tickets from Rome to Naples earlier in the week, though fortunately the price this time was only €19.50. We were on an Intercity train instead of Eurostar, which was probably the price difference. But the journey itself was slightly less pleasant, so I was glad it was only about two hours. We were stuffed into compartments of six, kind of like the Hogwarts express (I even saw a food trolley pass by in the hallway – go figure). But the guy sitting across from me was really awkward – he wore camouflage sweatpants and stretched out so much that my legroom was severely impeded. He also had a bad habit of scratching himself in unmentionable places consistently throughout the journey, so I tried my best not to pay attention. I was actually hoping to write about Rome during that train ride, but there was no way I was going to get my computer out. Oh well.
We made it to Naples, though, and our next task was to get tickets for the Circumvesuviana train and get off at the Castellammare del Stabia stop. Sounds easy, right? Not so much. We got our tickets, and dragged our luggage down to the platform to wait for a train heading to Sorrento. A train came up that said Sorrento on the front, so we got on. But once we were on the train, a bunch of people seemed to think that it wasn’t heading in that direction. Once the doors were shutting, a lady kindly told us that no, the train wasn’t going to Sorrento, so we should get off at the next stop and wait for the next train. So we did, and we sat out in the sun for a long time waiting. It got to the point where several trains had gone by and none were for Sorrento, so we decided to just get on the next one that came (don’t ask me how we came to that decision). After we had lugged our luggage aboard, a guy on the platform waved to us, saying, “No Sorrento! No Sorrento!” We looked at him helplessly as the doors shut, and I saw him walk away shaking his head. Oops.
So we got off again at the next stop. We waited a little bit longer, and finally, we got on the right train. But it was really crowded, so we had to stand in a clump with our luggage for the next 40 minutes or so (it was a long train ride). Not the best for our morale, but we made it.
Once we got off the train at Castellammare del Stabia, the directions told us to take the blue Sita bus, which would drop us off in front of the B&B. Our first problem is that we couldn’t find a bus stop. We wandered around for a bit (with our luggage, mind you) and eventually saw a green Sita bus going around the corner by the train station. It was a one way road, so we went back and sat outside and waited. It’s so fortunate that it was nice weather, because we were probably waiting for a good hour or so. Finally, we see a blue Sita bus coming around the corner. It was going slow since it had to turn, but it was obvious that it wasn’t going to stop for us because we weren’t at a stop. Evie took a half step forward and pulled out a pathetic, “Scuzi?” Fortunately, an Italian man nearby noticed our panic and quickly determined that we wanted that bus to Agerola and stopped it for us in the middle of the street. We boarded the bus with all our luggage, probably hitting just about every passenger as we walked through the aisle. But we made it on.
The next problem was that we didn’t know where to get off or how to pay. We started asking some of the other people on the bus, and one man who spoke rudimentary English told us that Campora was after the tunnel. Half an hour later, we drove through a tunnel near the top of a mountain. We perked back to attention and started trying to figure out where our stop was. The problem was that the bus didn’t stop unless someone had pressed the stop button or if someone was waiting, and the stops had no labels and were often hidden so you didn’t see them unless you were looking for the “Fermata Sita” signs that looked an awful lot like a laminated piece of paper.
Our next angel was an elderly woman who jabbered on and on to us in Italian, trying to give us directions to our stop. She was pointing things out with her hand, but none of us had any idea what she was saying. We picked up on a few things like “around.” But when it was our stop, she stood up and called out the bus driver so that he stopped in the right spot, so we left the Sita bus on the road right in front of our B&B.
The next problem was getting there. Evie walked over to a couple of people out on the street and asked where the B&B Il Sentiero was – they told her that it was just up a side street, but the owner Teresa, wasn’t in and we should walk 10 minutes up the road to a Tabacchi to use a phone to call.
So we started walking. We got maybe halfway when we paused by a church for a break. Suddenly, we looked up and there’s a car there. “Il Sentiero? Come, I will take you.” So we loaded the four of us plus our luggage into a tiny car, and the guy started driving. The irony of it all was that he drove back down the road and stopped right where we had gotten out of the Sita bus just a little bit earlier. So our walking was in vain. But he brought us up to the B&B and gave us our key. We had made it! (Though we never did pay for our ride on the Sita bus. Seems to be the Italian way.)
After we had our room, I’m pretty sure the guy that brought us there left. So there was no one working at the B&B that night, and there were no other guests. We were the only ones. The room was really nice, with a queen bed and a bunk bed. The problem was that it was pretty arctic in the room – there was a heater on the wall and we plugged it in, but we could not figure out how to work it. So we spent the nights under piles of blankets (thankfully the wardrobe was well stocked) and still woke up cold in the morning. It was really funny, though, because we woke up at 8:50 or so (breakfast was at 9:00) and just started laughing because we knew we should get up but it was just so cold.
Teresa was there in the morning though, and we had a nice breakfast of chocolate filled croissants and toast biscottis. Not very filling, but it was still breakfast. We paid for our stay and asked Teresa how to work the heater. Apparently there was a remote for the heater in the drawer in the bedstand. Go figure. After we figured out the heating, our room was much more pleasant. Though the hallway and the bathroom were still pretty arctic, so it was a little unpleasant to make trips to the bathroom or to take a shower. We did have hot water (most of the time), so that helped.
The unfortunate part of having heat in our room was the flies. There were flies hanging around, but while it was cold, they were sluggish and took to walking on the floor instead of flying (if that doesn’t tell you how arctic it was, I don’t know what will). But once it warmed up, they were flying around and obnoxious again. Oh, well. Flies are just obnoxious, and there were only about five of them in our room.
Our time in Amalfi/Campora/Agerola was pretty low key and relaxing. We were on the top of a mountain in a little Italian town, where we got stared at as we walked down the street because everybody knew everybody and we were very obviously not from there. We did find a pizzeria just seven minutes from our B&B, though, so we went there every night for dinner. It had great pizza and it was only €3.50 for a big prosciutto pizza – and it was open. Eating there was really strange – many places were closed, and it seemed that restaurants for dinner only opened at 7:00pm and were closed until then. So every night at 7:00, we showed up at our pizzeria. By the second time, they recognized us and expected us, and a couple of the employees would wave to us if we passed by on the street. They were great, though.
On Saturday we took the Sita bus down to Amalfi town, so we did get down to the coast. Our Sita bus driver was awesome, and since we were in the front, he started talking to us in Italian for a few minutes. We smiled and laughed like we knew exactly what was going on, until he asked us if we spoke Italian. We laughed and said no. Evie told him that she spoke a little Spanish, and I think he thought we were Spanish after that. Oh well. He started singing as he was driving, so it was a great time.
We spent the day wandering around the town, but it was very obviously a town where cruise ships stopped. There were a lot of expensive, brand name stores for the cruise ship tourists who had money to spend. Plus, there was a cruise ship anchored out in the sea while we were there.
Amalfi was absolutely beautiful, though. Chilly as well, and we spent the day with jackets, hats, and scarves. But it was endless blue sea that ran right up to the mountains, covered with cute Italian buildings. Just gorgeous.
On Sunday we slept in (Teresa had left our breakfast out in the hallway the day before – we didn’t see her again until Monday morning at breakfast). Then we had devotions in our PJ’s – basically we all took time to talk about how we’ve seen God working and how this trip has been changing us. I think that it was just what I needed. We took a walk to Agerola in the afternoon, and after our traditional pizza for dinner, we spent the evening in.
We left Amalfi on Monday morning, so that was Amalfi in a nutshell. There are just so many memories from that part of the trip – what an adventure! I was kind of relieved to get back to Rome on Monday morning, but I wouldn’t trade my adventure off the beaten trail for anything. I felt like we got to experience a part of Italy that not as many tourists experience.
I think I’ll finish up with Italy later, since we still had one more day in Rome before we left on Tuesday night. But I’m running a little short on time right now, so I think I’ll leave and post this online when I get back to the Celtic Hotel. (I’m at Café Nero right now.) But I don’t have huge plans for the day, so hopefully I’ll get this caught up later this evening. We’ll see.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Italy part 1
Saturday October 17, 2009 – Sunday October 18, 2009
When in Rome… buy a sweatshirt!
Right now I’m in Campora, an area in the mountains right by the Amalfi coast. And I wish I had bought a sweatshirt when I was in Rome!
But Rome was a great experience, for the most part. The only damper was my check card. I couldn’t figure out how to use a pay phone, even after I switched the language to English. And by not figuring it out, that means that I couldn’t figure out how to make my phone card work, because I didn’t want to pay international fees to call the bank only to have them put me on hold. But Mom was great – I emailed and Facebook chatted about the problem, and she made the necessary calls to change my PIN and make it so that I could access my cash. But that wasn’t until after our first full day in Rome, and everyone else had to pay my entrances into things and for our accommodation. But I’m completely paid off now, so I feel better.
So, Rome. We arrived via train on Monday to a windy and rainy city. We left the Metro at the Ottaviano stop, right near Vatican City. A few blocks up the street, we found our apartment at Michelangelo’s House. Since my check card was still frozen, I was wet, tired, and crabby. But the apartment was amazing, and only about 25 euro per night. We had a kitchen, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms. Plus, even though there wasn’t technically wifi there, we did find several networks throughout the apartment that had high enough signals that the internet worked. Free wifi for the first time since Bayeaux!
Monday night was a low key night. We spent most of our time in, settling in to the apartment, catching up on email, and other such things. We did go out to find some dinner, since the supermarket was closed once we were hungry.
Tuesday was our first full day in Rome. We did our grocery shopping in the morning so that we could save money on food, and then we went out for the day. Our plan was to tour the Colosseum and Palatine Hill nearby. Generally, that wouldn’t be a problem, except my check card was still frozen and I only had €10 of cash on me. I thought that somewhere big like the Colosseum would accept credit cards, but they didn’t. So I had to borrow even more money from Evie.
Even though I hate being in debt, I was still able to enjoy the afternoon of sight seeing. It felt almost unreal – how often do you wake up in the morning with no plans, and just decide to go see the Colosseum? I mean, even now it seems weird to say that I was there, where ancient Rome held huge gladiatorial events. And today, the Colosseum is just a shadow of its former grandeur.
Our tour guide for the Colosseum was named Aldo, and he was an older Italian man – maybe in his 40’s or 50’s. To be honest, I’m pretty sure I would have enjoyed the Colosseum more if we had a different tour guide. Aldo was interesting for a while, but he had the tendency to elaborate on one detail for so long that I grew bored from hearing the same thing over and over. He also enjoyed standing in one spot and talking for a good 45 minutes there, instead of moving around from place to place and pointing out different things in each location. Maybe it’s just my personal learning style, but oh well.
But our guide for Palatine Hill was much, much better. His name was Steve, and he was from Boston. And he definitely made the tour much more interesting. He was enthusiastic about his job and the subjects he was talking about, and he had the skill to combine historical facts with interesting anecdotes. A winning combination.
But Palatine Hill was really cool. It was all ruins of the former glory and power of Rome, and it was weird to thing that Rome used to be the world power, and this is all that’s left. Plus, it was also weird to thing that this was the center of all of Rome’s power, and this was where huge parts of the New Testament took place. I mean, this is where Peter preached and later where he was crucified upside down. We also saw the spot where Julius Caesar was cremated, and Romans today still leave flowers on the spot. Crazy.
That night was when I was figuring out my check card fiasco. But after Mom got things figured out with the bank at home, I haven’t had any problems.
Wednesday was another good day. We had reserved a spot with Steve for a tour of the Vatican Museum, since he advertised it after our tour of Palatine Hill and we all enjoyed Steve’s tours. It was €35 total, but it was money well spent.
We started off bright and early at 9:30 am to gather the group together. Then we walked in to Vatican City in order to see the Pope. I’m not Catholic and generally don’t care what the Pope is up to, but it was really fun to say, “I’m going to see the Pope!” So it was really exciting to see him driving around in his popemobile.
“Ten minutes after cheeks touch the chair, we’re meeting back outside.” That was Steve. So we watched carefully for the Pope’s cheeks to touch his chair (Kaari: “Is it sacrilegious to talk about the Pope’s cheeks?”) before going back outside Vatican City to walk around to the museum. That’s when we got our headsets so we could listen to Steve’s voice “speaking softly in our ears.” (Steve’s words from Tuesday.) So yes, we were one of those awesome tour groups with the headsets.
But I was thankful for the headsets once we got going on the tour, since there were so many people there. It would have been awfully hard to hear everything Steve was saying if we didn’t have headsets on. But it was great to have a tour guide: I never would have found everything that was interesting if there wasn’t someone there showing me where it all is. So we did get around to see Raphael’s rooms (School of Athens) and the huge galleries of the Hall of Tapestries and the Hall of Maps. And, last but definitely not least, the Sistine Chapel. It was utterly amazing to actually stand underneath Michelangelo’s paintings and see the original artwork. Scenes from the Sistine Chapel are so often reproduced that it seems like old news – but it’s so astounding in reality. We weren’t allowed to take pictures (though I did sneak a few covert-ops photos) and there were professional shushers, but it was so cool. Definitely worth the money.
This is an awkward ending, but it's all I've got so far. More to come!
When in Rome… buy a sweatshirt!
Right now I’m in Campora, an area in the mountains right by the Amalfi coast. And I wish I had bought a sweatshirt when I was in Rome!
But Rome was a great experience, for the most part. The only damper was my check card. I couldn’t figure out how to use a pay phone, even after I switched the language to English. And by not figuring it out, that means that I couldn’t figure out how to make my phone card work, because I didn’t want to pay international fees to call the bank only to have them put me on hold. But Mom was great – I emailed and Facebook chatted about the problem, and she made the necessary calls to change my PIN and make it so that I could access my cash. But that wasn’t until after our first full day in Rome, and everyone else had to pay my entrances into things and for our accommodation. But I’m completely paid off now, so I feel better.
So, Rome. We arrived via train on Monday to a windy and rainy city. We left the Metro at the Ottaviano stop, right near Vatican City. A few blocks up the street, we found our apartment at Michelangelo’s House. Since my check card was still frozen, I was wet, tired, and crabby. But the apartment was amazing, and only about 25 euro per night. We had a kitchen, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms. Plus, even though there wasn’t technically wifi there, we did find several networks throughout the apartment that had high enough signals that the internet worked. Free wifi for the first time since Bayeaux!
Monday night was a low key night. We spent most of our time in, settling in to the apartment, catching up on email, and other such things. We did go out to find some dinner, since the supermarket was closed once we were hungry.
Tuesday was our first full day in Rome. We did our grocery shopping in the morning so that we could save money on food, and then we went out for the day. Our plan was to tour the Colosseum and Palatine Hill nearby. Generally, that wouldn’t be a problem, except my check card was still frozen and I only had €10 of cash on me. I thought that somewhere big like the Colosseum would accept credit cards, but they didn’t. So I had to borrow even more money from Evie.
Even though I hate being in debt, I was still able to enjoy the afternoon of sight seeing. It felt almost unreal – how often do you wake up in the morning with no plans, and just decide to go see the Colosseum? I mean, even now it seems weird to say that I was there, where ancient Rome held huge gladiatorial events. And today, the Colosseum is just a shadow of its former grandeur.
Our tour guide for the Colosseum was named Aldo, and he was an older Italian man – maybe in his 40’s or 50’s. To be honest, I’m pretty sure I would have enjoyed the Colosseum more if we had a different tour guide. Aldo was interesting for a while, but he had the tendency to elaborate on one detail for so long that I grew bored from hearing the same thing over and over. He also enjoyed standing in one spot and talking for a good 45 minutes there, instead of moving around from place to place and pointing out different things in each location. Maybe it’s just my personal learning style, but oh well.
But our guide for Palatine Hill was much, much better. His name was Steve, and he was from Boston. And he definitely made the tour much more interesting. He was enthusiastic about his job and the subjects he was talking about, and he had the skill to combine historical facts with interesting anecdotes. A winning combination.
But Palatine Hill was really cool. It was all ruins of the former glory and power of Rome, and it was weird to thing that Rome used to be the world power, and this is all that’s left. Plus, it was also weird to thing that this was the center of all of Rome’s power, and this was where huge parts of the New Testament took place. I mean, this is where Peter preached and later where he was crucified upside down. We also saw the spot where Julius Caesar was cremated, and Romans today still leave flowers on the spot. Crazy.
That night was when I was figuring out my check card fiasco. But after Mom got things figured out with the bank at home, I haven’t had any problems.
Wednesday was another good day. We had reserved a spot with Steve for a tour of the Vatican Museum, since he advertised it after our tour of Palatine Hill and we all enjoyed Steve’s tours. It was €35 total, but it was money well spent.
We started off bright and early at 9:30 am to gather the group together. Then we walked in to Vatican City in order to see the Pope. I’m not Catholic and generally don’t care what the Pope is up to, but it was really fun to say, “I’m going to see the Pope!” So it was really exciting to see him driving around in his popemobile.
“Ten minutes after cheeks touch the chair, we’re meeting back outside.” That was Steve. So we watched carefully for the Pope’s cheeks to touch his chair (Kaari: “Is it sacrilegious to talk about the Pope’s cheeks?”) before going back outside Vatican City to walk around to the museum. That’s when we got our headsets so we could listen to Steve’s voice “speaking softly in our ears.” (Steve’s words from Tuesday.) So yes, we were one of those awesome tour groups with the headsets.
But I was thankful for the headsets once we got going on the tour, since there were so many people there. It would have been awfully hard to hear everything Steve was saying if we didn’t have headsets on. But it was great to have a tour guide: I never would have found everything that was interesting if there wasn’t someone there showing me where it all is. So we did get around to see Raphael’s rooms (School of Athens) and the huge galleries of the Hall of Tapestries and the Hall of Maps. And, last but definitely not least, the Sistine Chapel. It was utterly amazing to actually stand underneath Michelangelo’s paintings and see the original artwork. Scenes from the Sistine Chapel are so often reproduced that it seems like old news – but it’s so astounding in reality. We weren’t allowed to take pictures (though I did sneak a few covert-ops photos) and there were professional shushers, but it was so cool. Definitely worth the money.
This is an awkward ending, but it's all I've got so far. More to come!
Monday, October 12, 2009
A much-needed update
Sunday October 11, 2009 – Monday October 12, 2009
Where do I start? I have so much to cover – the last time I wrote was in Sligo. Somehow, I’m going to attempt to cover Derry, Belfast, Bayeaux, Paris, and Venice. I’m feeling a little intimidated… so be warned, this entry is going to be really, really long.
There wasn’t much left of Sligo after the last blog post – we made a trip to the Lissadell house, a house that Yeats used in a poem. We took a boat trip out in the lake and saw (through a rain-covered window) the Lake Isle of Innisfree. I also spent an entire day writing another paper.
After Sligo, we left for Belfast. On the way we stopped in Derry (or Londonderry). That’s the city where Bloody Sunday happened – the British Army opened fire on a crowd of unarmed marchers (13 dead, many more injured). I wrote a paper on it in Paris, so if you’re interested you can ask to read it. We went in to see the Free Derry museum about it, which only opened in 2005 even though Bloody Sunday happened in 1972. It was really moving – I had no idea that Bloody Sunday was still so fresh in their minds. The guy that was working there was named John Kelly, and his younger brother Michael was killed on Bloody Sunday at the age of 17. He pointed out the baby clothes in the museum that had been used to pressurize the gunshot wound and where Michael had been killed out on the street. He also told us how three people had been killed right outside of the building where the museum now resides.
After Derry, we drove to the Giant’s Causeway. It’s a huge beach of hexagonal towers and it looks an awful lot like – surprise, surprise – a giant’s causeway. We were only there for about half an hour before we had to leave to get to Belfast.
Belfast was amazing. After the misty/drizzly days in Sligo, Belfast was sunny and beautiful with a crisp fall chill. We were dropped off at Fisherwick Presbyterian Church to meet our homestay families. I stayed with Kaari, and our family was the Wilson family. It was Jonathan (37), Shona (34), Nathan (14), Megan (9), and Benjamin (6). They lived in Lisborn, a suburb just outside of Belfast.
In short, it was amazing. After dinner every night, Kaari and I talked to Shona for a couple hours. Shona had endless interesting stories about religion and her past. She grew up as a Catholic during the Troubles, and Jonathan grew up Protestant. Again, I added some tidbits about her experience in the paper I just wrote in Paris.
I feel like a huge fail right now because my homestay experience was so amazing, but the details of it are already fading. I remember we went to Ulster Folk park (a park where they had set up old buildings from Belfast, pre-Troubles) and drove through the main Troubles areas (Shankill for the Protestants, and The Falls for the Catholics). Then that night we volunteered at the SOS bus until 2:30am, a bus that Fisherwick parks out by the pubs and gives out free coffee, tea, and biscuits to the drunks. There’s also a minibus to help people get home that otherwise can’t. Then on Sunday, we went to church in the morning, took a nap for a little bit, went back to Fisherwick for a lecture, and then went to the evening church service. Then in the morning we went to the airport.
That information doesn’t encompass my homestay experience. It was so much more than just seeing or doing things, but my motivation to elaborate is practically zero. So you’ll have to settle for the shortened version, and I’ll have to keep Belfast in my memories.
We left Belfast Monday morning and flew in to Paris, France. We didn’t stay there yet, though, and drove out through Rouen to get to Bayeaux. We didn’t get in on Monday until late, so we went to bed pretty soon after.
On Tuesday, we went on a tour of the Normandy beaches. We got to see Omaha and Utah beaches. I know several of people got really bored, but I loved it. We visited the American cemetery at Normandy, and the rows of white crosses (and stars of David) went on forever. Best part of all? Driving through Carentan (Band of Brothers) and seeing Drop Zone C (where the 101st Airborne was supposed to land on D-Day). We also went to Ste. Mere de Eglise, which is where the 82nd Airborne landed. And we walked around on Ponte de Noc (sp?), which was the location of six German guns that the Allies bombed to hell. So the remains of the guns and bunkers were still there, and the land was covered in countless craters.
After our tour of the Normandy beaches, we went out to a restaurant for a banquet. It was a lot of fun – we all dressed up got to spend one last night together. It was Allison York’s birthday so we celebrated that, and since it was the last time we were all together as a group, we said goodbye to DR and Judy.
The next day we saw the Bayeaux tapestry in the morning, a huge tapestry with stories about William the Conqueror. Then around noon we left and drove back in to Paris. But on the way we stopped at the Palace of Versailles. The inside was so gaudy and ornate it was almost sickening. Pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to live there ever. The gardens out back were gorgeous, though.
Paris was nice, but I’ve decided that I don’t like living somewhere where I have no idea what people are saying. Ordering food sucks; I felt like an idiot pretty much all the time. I’d much rather live in an English-speaking country or a Spanish-speaking country. French just doesn’t work for me. I mean, I can’t even do basics like “This one”, “How much?”, or even count past three. And forget pronouncing things off a menu.
Paris was pretty decent, other than that. I spent Thursday doing all my touristy things: we saw the Louvre, the Arc du Triumphe, and the Eiffel Tower. It was a gorgeous day most of the day, but it got cloudy when Anna, Kaari, and I went to the top of the Eiffel tower. We were a little concerned that it was going to rain, but it didn’t. We did get to see a cloud pass by while we were up there, so we were in the clouds for a while.
The Louvre was pretty excellent. It was so much fun to see original works of art instead of reproductions. So we saw the Cupid and Psyche, Mona Lisa, Hammurabi Code… it was awesome. The Arc… to be serious, we just stopped by there to say that we were there. It kind of felt like a “checklist” day:
Things to do in life:
-See the Mona Lisa at the Louvre (check)
-Go to the Arc du Triumphe (check)
-Go to the top of the Eiffel Tower (check)
I mean… those are things that a lot of people want to do sometime in life. And I did it all in one day.
Thursday evening was pretty stressful. I meant to get a good start on the paper due Friday, but I checked email only to find that our Venice accommodations had had a “server error” and they really didn’t have room for us. And we were leaving for Venice in three days. So since Kaari and Evie were out of the room somewhere, I was frantically searching online for somewhere to stay while trying to Skype with Seth and communicate with Anna about accommodation possibilities. I started getting really stressed and snapped at both Seth and Anna. Really, I was not pleasant to be around that night. Surprising that either of them liked me the rest of the night. I did find us a place to stay, but I didn’t get very far on my paper.
On Friday morning, we met for the last time as a group for a Hemingway walk through Paris. It was nice, but I wasn’t entirely pleased with it when I had a paper to write and turn in before bed, and we had to walk for four and a half miles around Paris for a few hours.
After the Hemingway walk, Kaari, Evie, Anna, and I went to an internet café to print important free travel information: boarding passes for our RyanAir flights, hotel information, and directions to our accommodations. I think we all felt a little more confident after that was done.
Instead of working on our papers, we did a little bit of shopping in Paris. Possibly bad academic planning, but it was totally worth it. We got back to our hotel at about 5:00pm and got right to work on our papers. I had about 1500 out of 2000 words to go, but I finished writing before 11:00pm. I took a break to Skype with Seth, but then I had to handwrite my paper in my notebook in order to turn it in. So I didn’t get to bed until about 1:30 am, which wasn’t exactly ideal. But I finished my paper and turned it in.
We got up on Saturday on our first day of free travel. We checked out of the hotel in Paris, but left our luggage there for the morning. We took the Metro out to Mont-something (don’t ask me how to spell or pronounce anything in French), which was the location of a cathedral called Sacre Coeur (again, something like that). It’s also where the Moulin Rouge was. We finally had a nice lunch out at an outdoor café, something that I had wanted to do while in Paris. Plus, I ate a crepe in France. It was excellent.
After lunch, we took the Metro back to Odéon (our stop for our hotel) to go recollect our luggage. Then it was time for a day of dragging luggage around, making all of our connections and hopefully making it to our hotel in Venice that I had just booked a day and a half ago.
Our first task was to get our luggage from our hotel back to the Metro. We took the fuchsia line to the Severus Babylon stop (that’s my interpretation of the French…way easier to remember) in order to switch to the yellow line. Then we got off at Ponte Maillot. We wandered around out there for a little bit, looking to find where the RyanAir shuttle to the Beauveax (sp?) airport for our flight. Eventually we found the blue signs directing us to the correct location.
So we bought €13.00 tickets for the bus, which left at 3:50pm. It was about an hour bus ride, so we arrived at the airport at 4:50pm for our 6:50pm flight to Venice. After that we just had to check our bags and grab some food so that we would get dinner at some point.
We made it on our plane just fine, and I finally got to watch last Monday’s Heroes episode that I had bought off of iTunes and had slowly downloaded during my expensive internet hours in Paris. It had a most excellent ending, by the way. I was missing Sylar throughout the whole episode, but he didn’t let me down. Now since it’s Monday again, I’m going to have to find internet to get the next episode.
Anyway… we landed safely in the Treviso airport in Venice. We got our checked bags and went on a hunt for tickets for the shuttle from the airport to Venice. Thankfully, these tickets were only €6.50. So we got on the bus and hopped out at the Venice-Mestre train station.
This was when our first adventure started. The directions from the hotel’s website that I had written down said to take the no. 9 bus from the Venice-Mestre train station, and it would drop us off in front of the hotel. What they didn’t tell us was that the no. 9 bus only ran until 9:05pm. It was 9:20pm.
We looked at the bus line, and it looked like our stop was only three stops later. (Side note: from the buses we took later on, I think the route sign that we looked at only shows the major stops.) We didn’t want to pay for a taxi, and it wasn’t that late. We had a map we had printed off the hotel website, and even though it didn’t have a scale, it didn’t look like the hotel was too far. We took a gamble, and decided to walk.
Bad idea. Before you freak out and tell me how unsafe that was, I’ll point out that we’ve learned a lesson. “It’s only three stops; let’s walk” is a bad idea when you’re carrying luggage. Two days later, muscles in my arms, legs, and back are still protesting. Plus, it was a long walk and it was dark out. That was a really dumb idea, but at least we’re okay.
We eventually found the hotel after a few mishaps. We walked too far in one direction and had to turn around. We took a gamble and made a right turn onto a main road, and after walking a while we stopped at another hotel and asked directions. We were told that we were walking in the correct direction and that it wouldn’t be too much farther. I think that was also very relative, because we were still walking for a good half an hour after that. About 15 minutes away from the hotel, the shoulder strap on my duffel bag (that I bought in Ireland) snapped. So I’m really hoping I can carry it alright for the rest of free travel.
When we got to our hotel (Elite Residence Hotel), we had probably been walking through Mestre for about an hour and a half. We were sweaty and exhausted, but we made it safely. It was probably about 11:00pm when we finally got there.
Yesterday (Sunday), we had an entire day in Venice. It was a gorgeous, blue sky and sunny kind of day. Maybe around 70 degrees as well – not too hot, not to cold. Just perfect. We walked from the Piazzale Roma through the streets, looking in various stores, until we reached Piazza San Marco. Oh! And I had the world’s most winning gelato combination: raspberry and mango. Absolutely amazing.
It was a really low-key day, just meandering around Venice and stopping to admire the countless canals and the gorgeous masks adorning just about every store. It was almost unreal: all of us said (repeatedly), “Guys, we’re in Venice right now. We don’t have any homework to do. We’re on vacation!”
The only disappointment was the Bridge of Sighs (Ponte de Sospiri). That’s the one thing I remember Seth telling me to see in Venice, so I really wanted to go. We found it, but it was under renovation. So only a fraction of the bridge was showing: HUGE FAIL. I was so excited to see it, too.
We took the water bus (vaporetto) back up to the Venice train station and did a bit more shopping in the area we had first walked through. Anna wanted a mask and Kaari wanted a postcard. But at that point, I was getting a little crabby (not too bad) because I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything (except gelato) since breakfast, and it was about 7:30 by the time we finally sat down for dinner. (In my defense, we all ate a big breakfast since it was free at the hotel. It’s one way to save a little money, at least.) But we had our first Italian pizza for dinner, and it was absolutely amazing. Much better than American pizza.
We got back to our hotel a little bit later, and Kaari, Anna, and I chipped in to buy an hour of internet. It was €8.00 an hour for wifi, which was a little ridiculous. So we had enough time to send out necessary emails, and in my case transfer money from savings into checking. We’re all hoping for some free wifi in Rome – if we don’t find it, you won’t be hearing very much from me this week.
Today is our travel day. We checked out of our hotel this morning, after another big breakfast (and sneaking a few sandwiches we made out of the breakfast room so we would have some lunch). We took the bus back to Venice and went to the train station, where our train for Rome left at 11:43am. (It was a €65.00 ticket, which sucks, but it’s getting us where we need to go, when we need to go.)
But here starts my saga. Our accommodations in Rome say that we need to pay cash upon arrival, which shouldn’t be a huge problem. I have money in savings. But the huge problem comes when I try to access it: my pin number is 8 numbers long, and I use letters to remember what it is. I tried to get some money out at the ATM near our hotel, but when it came time to enter my pin, it cut me off after 6 numbers. Plus, the buttons didn’t have letters on them, so that was hard enough. It took me to the screen where I could select the amount of money, so I thought it had been okay. But then it told me my pin was invalid.
I couldn’t get it to work, so I hunted down an ATM in the train station. That one had letters on the keys, and I noticed that the letters associated with numbers are different here than they are at home. It cut me off after 6 numbers again, and then a screen showed up that said “A message from your bank” and then a paragraph of Italian. I had no idea what it said, so I hit okay. I selected the amount of cash that I needed, and this time it spit my card back out with a message that said “Invalid card.”
Right now I’m on a train to Rome with only €20.00 in cash. I’m pretty sure TCF has blocked my card by now from all the “invalid password” attempts to get cash, and I have no idea how to get at it before we get to our Rome accommodations in a few hours.
Everyone keeps telling me, “Oh, we’ll get it. We’ll stop at a bank. It’ll be fine.” But it doesn’t help at all. Even if I do go to a bank, there’s still the problem of my pin being too long even though I’ve used it at home all the time. I’m not an idiot; I know my pin number. I have no phone to call TCF and ask to unblock my card or ask to change my pin, and I have no idea how to get internet once we are in Rome and try to do it online.
What is a bank going to do? “Oh, looks like your bank has blocked your card. You’ll have to contact them before we can do anything.” And no one has the money to cover four nights in Rome for me while I try to get at my money. I’ve been freaking out internally all morning, and I remember saying, “I’m going to get booted out of the apartment because I can’t pay.” Everyone laughed like I was joking, and said, “No you won’t.” But I’m serious; I’m kind of worried about this. And it’s really frustrating because I have the money, but I just can’t get it in cash. And I’m in a foreign country with a foreign language with no phone and no internet. I’m going to a city where I have no idea where anything is.
So now I’m listening to Avenged Sevenfold as I type out my last few days because I’m stressed, anxious, and just pissy in general. Really, Avenged Sevenfold (Self-titled) is a great CD for people who are traveling, missing someone at home, and in a bad mood (unlike how I was yesterday). The entire album caters to those feelings.
It’s now about 1:20pm, and our train is supposed to get to Rome at 4:10pm. I should eat, but I feel anxious enough that it doesn’t sound appetizing. Sometimes it sucks being independent; I don’t have anyone that can tell me, “It’s okay. I’ll cover that payment for you. I know you can pay me back, so don’t worry about it right now.”
But I’m down to about half battery on my laptop, so I’m going to finish this up so I can conserve it, just in case I can get internet in some café but there are no outlets. I really, really hope that I can figure something out.
Where do I start? I have so much to cover – the last time I wrote was in Sligo. Somehow, I’m going to attempt to cover Derry, Belfast, Bayeaux, Paris, and Venice. I’m feeling a little intimidated… so be warned, this entry is going to be really, really long.
There wasn’t much left of Sligo after the last blog post – we made a trip to the Lissadell house, a house that Yeats used in a poem. We took a boat trip out in the lake and saw (through a rain-covered window) the Lake Isle of Innisfree. I also spent an entire day writing another paper.
After Sligo, we left for Belfast. On the way we stopped in Derry (or Londonderry). That’s the city where Bloody Sunday happened – the British Army opened fire on a crowd of unarmed marchers (13 dead, many more injured). I wrote a paper on it in Paris, so if you’re interested you can ask to read it. We went in to see the Free Derry museum about it, which only opened in 2005 even though Bloody Sunday happened in 1972. It was really moving – I had no idea that Bloody Sunday was still so fresh in their minds. The guy that was working there was named John Kelly, and his younger brother Michael was killed on Bloody Sunday at the age of 17. He pointed out the baby clothes in the museum that had been used to pressurize the gunshot wound and where Michael had been killed out on the street. He also told us how three people had been killed right outside of the building where the museum now resides.
After Derry, we drove to the Giant’s Causeway. It’s a huge beach of hexagonal towers and it looks an awful lot like – surprise, surprise – a giant’s causeway. We were only there for about half an hour before we had to leave to get to Belfast.
Belfast was amazing. After the misty/drizzly days in Sligo, Belfast was sunny and beautiful with a crisp fall chill. We were dropped off at Fisherwick Presbyterian Church to meet our homestay families. I stayed with Kaari, and our family was the Wilson family. It was Jonathan (37), Shona (34), Nathan (14), Megan (9), and Benjamin (6). They lived in Lisborn, a suburb just outside of Belfast.
In short, it was amazing. After dinner every night, Kaari and I talked to Shona for a couple hours. Shona had endless interesting stories about religion and her past. She grew up as a Catholic during the Troubles, and Jonathan grew up Protestant. Again, I added some tidbits about her experience in the paper I just wrote in Paris.
I feel like a huge fail right now because my homestay experience was so amazing, but the details of it are already fading. I remember we went to Ulster Folk park (a park where they had set up old buildings from Belfast, pre-Troubles) and drove through the main Troubles areas (Shankill for the Protestants, and The Falls for the Catholics). Then that night we volunteered at the SOS bus until 2:30am, a bus that Fisherwick parks out by the pubs and gives out free coffee, tea, and biscuits to the drunks. There’s also a minibus to help people get home that otherwise can’t. Then on Sunday, we went to church in the morning, took a nap for a little bit, went back to Fisherwick for a lecture, and then went to the evening church service. Then in the morning we went to the airport.
That information doesn’t encompass my homestay experience. It was so much more than just seeing or doing things, but my motivation to elaborate is practically zero. So you’ll have to settle for the shortened version, and I’ll have to keep Belfast in my memories.
We left Belfast Monday morning and flew in to Paris, France. We didn’t stay there yet, though, and drove out through Rouen to get to Bayeaux. We didn’t get in on Monday until late, so we went to bed pretty soon after.
On Tuesday, we went on a tour of the Normandy beaches. We got to see Omaha and Utah beaches. I know several of people got really bored, but I loved it. We visited the American cemetery at Normandy, and the rows of white crosses (and stars of David) went on forever. Best part of all? Driving through Carentan (Band of Brothers) and seeing Drop Zone C (where the 101st Airborne was supposed to land on D-Day). We also went to Ste. Mere de Eglise, which is where the 82nd Airborne landed. And we walked around on Ponte de Noc (sp?), which was the location of six German guns that the Allies bombed to hell. So the remains of the guns and bunkers were still there, and the land was covered in countless craters.
After our tour of the Normandy beaches, we went out to a restaurant for a banquet. It was a lot of fun – we all dressed up got to spend one last night together. It was Allison York’s birthday so we celebrated that, and since it was the last time we were all together as a group, we said goodbye to DR and Judy.
The next day we saw the Bayeaux tapestry in the morning, a huge tapestry with stories about William the Conqueror. Then around noon we left and drove back in to Paris. But on the way we stopped at the Palace of Versailles. The inside was so gaudy and ornate it was almost sickening. Pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to live there ever. The gardens out back were gorgeous, though.
Paris was nice, but I’ve decided that I don’t like living somewhere where I have no idea what people are saying. Ordering food sucks; I felt like an idiot pretty much all the time. I’d much rather live in an English-speaking country or a Spanish-speaking country. French just doesn’t work for me. I mean, I can’t even do basics like “This one”, “How much?”, or even count past three. And forget pronouncing things off a menu.
Paris was pretty decent, other than that. I spent Thursday doing all my touristy things: we saw the Louvre, the Arc du Triumphe, and the Eiffel Tower. It was a gorgeous day most of the day, but it got cloudy when Anna, Kaari, and I went to the top of the Eiffel tower. We were a little concerned that it was going to rain, but it didn’t. We did get to see a cloud pass by while we were up there, so we were in the clouds for a while.
The Louvre was pretty excellent. It was so much fun to see original works of art instead of reproductions. So we saw the Cupid and Psyche, Mona Lisa, Hammurabi Code… it was awesome. The Arc… to be serious, we just stopped by there to say that we were there. It kind of felt like a “checklist” day:
Things to do in life:
-See the Mona Lisa at the Louvre (check)
-Go to the Arc du Triumphe (check)
-Go to the top of the Eiffel Tower (check)
I mean… those are things that a lot of people want to do sometime in life. And I did it all in one day.
Thursday evening was pretty stressful. I meant to get a good start on the paper due Friday, but I checked email only to find that our Venice accommodations had had a “server error” and they really didn’t have room for us. And we were leaving for Venice in three days. So since Kaari and Evie were out of the room somewhere, I was frantically searching online for somewhere to stay while trying to Skype with Seth and communicate with Anna about accommodation possibilities. I started getting really stressed and snapped at both Seth and Anna. Really, I was not pleasant to be around that night. Surprising that either of them liked me the rest of the night. I did find us a place to stay, but I didn’t get very far on my paper.
On Friday morning, we met for the last time as a group for a Hemingway walk through Paris. It was nice, but I wasn’t entirely pleased with it when I had a paper to write and turn in before bed, and we had to walk for four and a half miles around Paris for a few hours.
After the Hemingway walk, Kaari, Evie, Anna, and I went to an internet café to print important free travel information: boarding passes for our RyanAir flights, hotel information, and directions to our accommodations. I think we all felt a little more confident after that was done.
Instead of working on our papers, we did a little bit of shopping in Paris. Possibly bad academic planning, but it was totally worth it. We got back to our hotel at about 5:00pm and got right to work on our papers. I had about 1500 out of 2000 words to go, but I finished writing before 11:00pm. I took a break to Skype with Seth, but then I had to handwrite my paper in my notebook in order to turn it in. So I didn’t get to bed until about 1:30 am, which wasn’t exactly ideal. But I finished my paper and turned it in.
We got up on Saturday on our first day of free travel. We checked out of the hotel in Paris, but left our luggage there for the morning. We took the Metro out to Mont-something (don’t ask me how to spell or pronounce anything in French), which was the location of a cathedral called Sacre Coeur (again, something like that). It’s also where the Moulin Rouge was. We finally had a nice lunch out at an outdoor café, something that I had wanted to do while in Paris. Plus, I ate a crepe in France. It was excellent.
After lunch, we took the Metro back to Odéon (our stop for our hotel) to go recollect our luggage. Then it was time for a day of dragging luggage around, making all of our connections and hopefully making it to our hotel in Venice that I had just booked a day and a half ago.
Our first task was to get our luggage from our hotel back to the Metro. We took the fuchsia line to the Severus Babylon stop (that’s my interpretation of the French…way easier to remember) in order to switch to the yellow line. Then we got off at Ponte Maillot. We wandered around out there for a little bit, looking to find where the RyanAir shuttle to the Beauveax (sp?) airport for our flight. Eventually we found the blue signs directing us to the correct location.
So we bought €13.00 tickets for the bus, which left at 3:50pm. It was about an hour bus ride, so we arrived at the airport at 4:50pm for our 6:50pm flight to Venice. After that we just had to check our bags and grab some food so that we would get dinner at some point.
We made it on our plane just fine, and I finally got to watch last Monday’s Heroes episode that I had bought off of iTunes and had slowly downloaded during my expensive internet hours in Paris. It had a most excellent ending, by the way. I was missing Sylar throughout the whole episode, but he didn’t let me down. Now since it’s Monday again, I’m going to have to find internet to get the next episode.
Anyway… we landed safely in the Treviso airport in Venice. We got our checked bags and went on a hunt for tickets for the shuttle from the airport to Venice. Thankfully, these tickets were only €6.50. So we got on the bus and hopped out at the Venice-Mestre train station.
This was when our first adventure started. The directions from the hotel’s website that I had written down said to take the no. 9 bus from the Venice-Mestre train station, and it would drop us off in front of the hotel. What they didn’t tell us was that the no. 9 bus only ran until 9:05pm. It was 9:20pm.
We looked at the bus line, and it looked like our stop was only three stops later. (Side note: from the buses we took later on, I think the route sign that we looked at only shows the major stops.) We didn’t want to pay for a taxi, and it wasn’t that late. We had a map we had printed off the hotel website, and even though it didn’t have a scale, it didn’t look like the hotel was too far. We took a gamble, and decided to walk.
Bad idea. Before you freak out and tell me how unsafe that was, I’ll point out that we’ve learned a lesson. “It’s only three stops; let’s walk” is a bad idea when you’re carrying luggage. Two days later, muscles in my arms, legs, and back are still protesting. Plus, it was a long walk and it was dark out. That was a really dumb idea, but at least we’re okay.
We eventually found the hotel after a few mishaps. We walked too far in one direction and had to turn around. We took a gamble and made a right turn onto a main road, and after walking a while we stopped at another hotel and asked directions. We were told that we were walking in the correct direction and that it wouldn’t be too much farther. I think that was also very relative, because we were still walking for a good half an hour after that. About 15 minutes away from the hotel, the shoulder strap on my duffel bag (that I bought in Ireland) snapped. So I’m really hoping I can carry it alright for the rest of free travel.
When we got to our hotel (Elite Residence Hotel), we had probably been walking through Mestre for about an hour and a half. We were sweaty and exhausted, but we made it safely. It was probably about 11:00pm when we finally got there.
Yesterday (Sunday), we had an entire day in Venice. It was a gorgeous, blue sky and sunny kind of day. Maybe around 70 degrees as well – not too hot, not to cold. Just perfect. We walked from the Piazzale Roma through the streets, looking in various stores, until we reached Piazza San Marco. Oh! And I had the world’s most winning gelato combination: raspberry and mango. Absolutely amazing.
It was a really low-key day, just meandering around Venice and stopping to admire the countless canals and the gorgeous masks adorning just about every store. It was almost unreal: all of us said (repeatedly), “Guys, we’re in Venice right now. We don’t have any homework to do. We’re on vacation!”
The only disappointment was the Bridge of Sighs (Ponte de Sospiri). That’s the one thing I remember Seth telling me to see in Venice, so I really wanted to go. We found it, but it was under renovation. So only a fraction of the bridge was showing: HUGE FAIL. I was so excited to see it, too.
We took the water bus (vaporetto) back up to the Venice train station and did a bit more shopping in the area we had first walked through. Anna wanted a mask and Kaari wanted a postcard. But at that point, I was getting a little crabby (not too bad) because I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything (except gelato) since breakfast, and it was about 7:30 by the time we finally sat down for dinner. (In my defense, we all ate a big breakfast since it was free at the hotel. It’s one way to save a little money, at least.) But we had our first Italian pizza for dinner, and it was absolutely amazing. Much better than American pizza.
We got back to our hotel a little bit later, and Kaari, Anna, and I chipped in to buy an hour of internet. It was €8.00 an hour for wifi, which was a little ridiculous. So we had enough time to send out necessary emails, and in my case transfer money from savings into checking. We’re all hoping for some free wifi in Rome – if we don’t find it, you won’t be hearing very much from me this week.
Today is our travel day. We checked out of our hotel this morning, after another big breakfast (and sneaking a few sandwiches we made out of the breakfast room so we would have some lunch). We took the bus back to Venice and went to the train station, where our train for Rome left at 11:43am. (It was a €65.00 ticket, which sucks, but it’s getting us where we need to go, when we need to go.)
But here starts my saga. Our accommodations in Rome say that we need to pay cash upon arrival, which shouldn’t be a huge problem. I have money in savings. But the huge problem comes when I try to access it: my pin number is 8 numbers long, and I use letters to remember what it is. I tried to get some money out at the ATM near our hotel, but when it came time to enter my pin, it cut me off after 6 numbers. Plus, the buttons didn’t have letters on them, so that was hard enough. It took me to the screen where I could select the amount of money, so I thought it had been okay. But then it told me my pin was invalid.
I couldn’t get it to work, so I hunted down an ATM in the train station. That one had letters on the keys, and I noticed that the letters associated with numbers are different here than they are at home. It cut me off after 6 numbers again, and then a screen showed up that said “A message from your bank” and then a paragraph of Italian. I had no idea what it said, so I hit okay. I selected the amount of cash that I needed, and this time it spit my card back out with a message that said “Invalid card.”
Right now I’m on a train to Rome with only €20.00 in cash. I’m pretty sure TCF has blocked my card by now from all the “invalid password” attempts to get cash, and I have no idea how to get at it before we get to our Rome accommodations in a few hours.
Everyone keeps telling me, “Oh, we’ll get it. We’ll stop at a bank. It’ll be fine.” But it doesn’t help at all. Even if I do go to a bank, there’s still the problem of my pin being too long even though I’ve used it at home all the time. I’m not an idiot; I know my pin number. I have no phone to call TCF and ask to unblock my card or ask to change my pin, and I have no idea how to get internet once we are in Rome and try to do it online.
What is a bank going to do? “Oh, looks like your bank has blocked your card. You’ll have to contact them before we can do anything.” And no one has the money to cover four nights in Rome for me while I try to get at my money. I’ve been freaking out internally all morning, and I remember saying, “I’m going to get booted out of the apartment because I can’t pay.” Everyone laughed like I was joking, and said, “No you won’t.” But I’m serious; I’m kind of worried about this. And it’s really frustrating because I have the money, but I just can’t get it in cash. And I’m in a foreign country with a foreign language with no phone and no internet. I’m going to a city where I have no idea where anything is.
So now I’m listening to Avenged Sevenfold as I type out my last few days because I’m stressed, anxious, and just pissy in general. Really, Avenged Sevenfold (Self-titled) is a great CD for people who are traveling, missing someone at home, and in a bad mood (unlike how I was yesterday). The entire album caters to those feelings.
It’s now about 1:20pm, and our train is supposed to get to Rome at 4:10pm. I should eat, but I feel anxious enough that it doesn’t sound appetizing. Sometimes it sucks being independent; I don’t have anyone that can tell me, “It’s okay. I’ll cover that payment for you. I know you can pay me back, so don’t worry about it right now.”
But I’m down to about half battery on my laptop, so I’m going to finish this up so I can conserve it, just in case I can get internet in some café but there are no outlets. I really, really hope that I can figure something out.
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