A Farewell to Siena: The Last Hurrah

Where I am right now, and what I'm doing must remain a mystery for a moment. I have to back up and cover last weekend, and my last, saddest week in Siena... 

Sunday the program took us to the beach, near Grosseto (do you remember Grosseto? Where I spent a sleepless night waiting for a train), and it was lovely! Sand, sun, more sand. More sun. Woo. Only it was deceptively cool, with the wind, and I definitely burned my legs. Sadface. 

Maya and I tried to build a sand replica of the Palazzo Pubblico in Siena, which almost worked except for Torre del Mangia, which ruined everything. Ah well. I made up for it by kicking butt at beach football. And by "kicking butt" I mean not sucking the worst. I "tackled" (two-hand touch) Trevin twice (he claims he doesn't remember, but that's a lie) and Rory once. I did fumble the ball once, and passed to someone who was not open, but tackling! It was a lot of fun, and our team almost won. And my knees took a serious beating from all the running and slipping and sticks on the ground, but it was for a good cause. 

The beach had these weird little bugs though, that if you sat down, farther up the beach, out of the wind, climbed everywhere. They were sort of half flying half not bugs, and it was pretty gross when you were trying to eat your sandwich without getting sand in it. 

After fun-beach-sand-times, we went to this tiny town called Castiglione della Pescaia for gelato, which was great after a day at the beach. We also saw "Via dell'Amore" where the story goes that these lovers fell in love at the well at one end of the road. They wanted to stay in love, so they walked up the road backwards, to keep the well in sight, and if you want to be lucky in love, you should do that too. So I did! The well disappears almost immediately though... But either way, I'm officially 'lucky in love'. So clearly my Italian soulmate is going to appear at my doorstep any day now, having been bewitched by me in the train that one time. 

The last week was pretty durn sad though. It felt like I had to devour every glance, every breath of wind, everything and feel it completely, so as not to waste a moment! And I didn't really want to do anything except wander around in Siena and feel melancholy, which was not really and an option since I did actually have exams and stuff. And a paper. Which I wrote out by hand because my computer died, and I left my charger at school. So value your technology, kids! And you grown ups should hush. Yes, you had to write papers by hand, backwards while licking the roads clean, right? I thought so. It's all about what you're used to. 

Thursday, the last night, was the saddest. I started to tear up just waiting for the bus! What is wrong with me!? Everyone was really tired, so a bunch of people turned in early, and I was mostly just very sad. It was so hard to say goodbye to Siena, which I have loved, and has been so good to me. I will come back, but I don't know when. And it was hard to say goodbye to the non-Lewis&Clarkers who I may never see again. People claim they'll visit, but it's hard to do, and they can't be blamed. And I was struggling to express to my Nonna how grateful I was for everything she'd done, and how special she is to me, because of the whole language thing. I think I did okay, though. I plan to send her a picture of us and some letters. I will miss her! And her cooking and her doing my laundry and folding it and her cleanliness. She is the cleanest. She even airs out her shoes every day. What. 

Friday was anticlimactic, in some senses. I waited around in the house for hours with nothing to do, because I had packed already (you'd be proud to see how well I stuffed everything in there). And then the bus to Rome was super late. Because Fiona, Marli, Kate, and I were the only ones flying out as soon as the program ended, we were bussed to Rome, then had to catch a train to the Rome airport, then a shuttle to the hotel. So it was a long day, especially with all our bags. The hotel was very nice though... 

Since Fiona, Marli, and I flew out at 6.15 am, I stayed up until about 1, woke up at 3.30 to be at the airport by 4. So that was gross. And then there was a surprise fee. Which was my own fault - someone told me I could check two bags on my Lufthansa flight to Seattle via Frankfurt, which wasn't actually true, so I had to pay €50 to check the second bag, which is too big to be carry-on. And the plan from the beginning was to have a second bag to fill with souvenirs and stuff from Italy. I don't think I would have minded so much, except that I didn't know beforehand. I just like having time to digest having to pay money. Oh, and did I mention that my flight from Seattle to Portland doesn't let you check any bags for free? Yeah. Don't fly Alaska. 

On the plus side, not only did I have two whole seats to myself for the 10 hour flight (hooray for sleeping for 6ish hours, and in a horizontal-ish position!), but customs was relatively painless. So hooray for that! Now I'll let you know where I am - sitting in the Seattle airport, on their free wifi, waiting another hour and a half before I board my flight to Portland. I gave myself way more time than I needed here, but it means I get to write you a blog post! 

I've come full circle... from writing a blog in the Seattle airport on my way to Italy, terrified and excited! Now I've done it, and my prediction that it would go too fast has come true. It's hard to feel that when you're in it, but it's the most true - it feels like yesterday and also an eternity ago. I'm still processing coming back, so you don't get any conclusions yet. But it's weird hearing English spoken, being able to eavesdrop, and trying to get back into remembering that 99% of people can understand us when we talk. 

Anyway. That's about all I can manage for now. I'm still kinda shell shocked... it's 10pm Rome time, and I left the hotel at 3.30am. I did actually sleep a bunch, so it's not tired as much as just... empty. I'm in Travel-Rachel mode, which means 'get stuff done, and think later'.

So close to home! And yet so far... 3 more hours until touch-down in Portland. 

Love and misses (and anticipation to see you all)!

<3

Hey Mr. Gondolier Man, Pull a Boat For Me...

In which I go to Venice and have an awesome time! 

This was my last free weekend on the program (sadface) so I decided to go to Venice... and also Padova which is 30 minutes from Venice by train and has the really gorgeous Scrovegni Chapel. I went with Trevin from the program and we met up with a friend of a friend from the States, who is studying in Seville for a year, Chris. Chris and I have been chatting back and forth a bunch since we're in the same time zone. 

Trevin and I left Thursday after class, around 3, and took a forever bus to Padova. Some other kids from the program were on our bus going to Bologna for a concert and then on to Venice, which took 3 hours. And then our bus stopped in Bologna for ages while the driver had numerous cigarettes. He told us we'd be late to Padova, which was partly fair because there was huge traffic on the way to Bologna, but then we waited for ages and we weren't even that late, compared to what our itinerary told us we would be. So confusing. We met Chris at the train station, just around the corner from where the bus let us off. 

Friday, we went to the Scrovegni Chapel to make an appointment for the next day. Because the Chapel was seriously damaged during WWII and when the tore down the palace next to it and when the arch/porch thing on the front collapsed, you have to sit in a room with an air purifier for 15 minutes before you can go in and they only let 25 people in at a time. So we had to make an appointment. For 9 am Saturday, but oh well. 

Then...

We then proceeded on to Venice! Which was hot, but not as hot as the last time I was there, where I had to shower twice a day because of the overwhelming humidity. I'm convinced we were there at the best time. Of course, it was still crawling with tourists (and the guy at the bag check at San Marco tried to talk to us in German), but not nearly as badly as it was last time. It took us ages to find San Marco, because Venice is a maze but we had a nice lunch on the way. San Marco is as awesome as I remember, except even more so because I'm older and know more about art and what not now. The mosaics on the roof are just as impressive as before, and the floor even more so. It's a complete hodge-podge of awesome patterns. Plus, we just happened to be there when someone was playing around on the organ. I have the best luck. 

... and now!

Afterwards, we went to the Accademia to see some art! We'd heard that the Vetruvian Man was there, and sometimes on display, but the ticket dude told us that we would never get to see it, because it's never on display. So either he was a jerky liar, or the internet was. But it was still interesting! Less interesting for me than going to Florence, because we'd talked about a lot of the art that we saw in Florence, but Trevin and I had fun picking out things we'd each talked about in our separate art classes from the paintings. This one has ancient Roman style clothing, the Madonna in that one looks iconic rather than realistic. 

Since all that took us the better part of the day, we headed back to Padova to relax and zen out a bit before dinner, because we were all pretty tired from walking all day - I'm still working on breaking in my nice sandals, so my feet were seriously contemplating popping out some big blisters, but I managed talked them out of it. Mostly by wearing my shoes that are like foot hugs for the next two days... The boys were much more whiny about their poor feetsies than I was, let me tell you. 

Saturday we had to get up pretty early to get to the Chapel in time for our appointment, but it was totally worth it! The Chapel was built by Enrico Scrovegni to save his father from Hell for being a usurer (and also probably himself) and Giotto painted the whole thing in some ridiculously short period of time like a two or three years, and the Chapel is considered one of the masterpieces of Western art, according to Wikipedia. And it is really amazing. Giotto is one of the first to put serious emotion in his paintings - for example, he's got tears rolling down the cheeks of the mothers in Massacre of the Innocents. On the wall of the entrance, he painted a huge Last Judgement, where he puts Enrico and his dad among the saved. Apparently one of the dudes on the saved half is also Giotto, which seems a little arrogant to me, but I will forgive him because it is beautiful. And I've decided that when I grow up and have a house that I can paint, I'm totally painting my bedroom ceiling that deep deep blue with gold stars I see in a lot of churches here, and twice in ones Giotto has done. 

The whole trip was very well timed - in and out in 30 minutes, because you only get 15 to look at the chapel! We met a nice couple from California, UCBerkley where he does something with traffic flows and what not and had a good chat about travel and Europe and Italy specifically.

Murano! Island of Glass! (Okay I made that name up, but it is...)

We hopped a train to Venice and Trevin and I met a kind of irritating lady who was a professor of Cinema Studies in Istanbul. She was friendly enough, just not particularly charitable to all the kids on the train going to see Bologna play Venice. We got off in Venice about the time we got out of the hotel the day before, and then had to wait in line for ages (see my previous post about Italian inefficiency) to get a ticket for the vaporetto and then wait more ages for the actual boat to take us to Murano. 

A bit about Murano. A long time ago, there were glass artisans in Venice, but the Ventian Republic decided that burning down buildings accidentally was no good (because remember you have to get glass hot to make things out of it) so they banished everyone to this island called Murano. But then they realized they had something pretty freaking awesome, as the artisans got better, and forbid them to ever leave the Ventian Republic. Which they ignored, as people often do when you forbid them to do things that they want to do. But they were pretty rich, and Murano is still famous for it's glass. We did see this one guy make a horse out of glass (a kinda crappy horse, but still), where he pulled it like toffee, spinning it constantly so it didn't sag in one direction or the other, and just sort of creating legs and a tail out of thin air.

Trevin may or may not have been cheated out of some money though. He was buying a very specific souvenir for someone (a glass lion) and the guy spoke in English, so when Trevin clarified that the price was fifteen the guy said yes, but turned out he meant fifty. Which don't actually sound similar in Italian: quindici and cinquanta respectively. Despite the fact that I screw them up all the time in Italian, most people don't and I have no logical reason for why I do. But Trevin, the trooper, just sort of took it in stride. The dude cut down the price a bit since it turned out Trevin was confused, and Trevin pointed out that what he was looking for was pretty darn specific, and in truth, we didn't see very many glass lions anywhere else, and when we did they were much uglier. I may or may not have bought some souvenirs, you'll just have to wait and see.

We met up with a couple other girls from the program for a bit on Murano who were staying on a nearby island for the weekend, and that was a nice change. Don't get me wrong, I adore Trevin and Chris, but just 30 minutes with a bit more estrogen was really nice. Plus it meant an easing up on the Canadian jokes and the taking-advantage-of-Rachel's-trusting-nature jokes. They call me 'gullible', but I prefer 'trusting'. 
Chris had to leave fairly early that night, because his flight out of Milan on Sunday was at 10 am, and it would have taken too long to get from Padova to Milan in for him to leave Sunday morning, so we returned kinda early. We had a nice but not too pricey dinner at a restaurant where I'm sure they suspected us of trying to dine and dash. Chris had his duffel with him so he could go to the train station, and Trevin was dressed in his usual shorts and a Family Guy tshirt so that didn't help. But the waiter just hovered around the whole meal! That didn't stop me from having a delicious desert with strawberries and raspberries and custard cream and something like shortcake. And taking our sweet time in polishing off our bottle of wine.

There are too many pictures up there, so the Chapel goes here.

Sunday we had to check out fairly early, especially considering our train wasn't until almost 4 pm. So we sort of spent the day bumming around Padova. We saw the Duomo - really ugly on the outside, kinda nice on the inside but completely white, which is kinda strange - and got flipped off by an angry street vendor when we refused to buy his merchandise, and just kept saying "no" when he came up to us. We also spent a few hours lying in the sun near the Scrovegni Chapel. Italians don't really do parks that much, in my experience, so being able to lie in the grass of one of the only parks I've seen was super lovely. Excluding the strange eastern European couple grooming each other and making out behind us. I mention their origin only because they were not Italian - Italians would totally make out and clamor on top of each other in a public park, but not groom.

The trip back was fairly uneventful, except for us being in the wrong compartment of the nicest train we've seen. An Australian man was very rude to Trevin, who has a cold, regarding his sniffling, but a friendly Italian man told us we were in the wrong seats so I was saved from having to punch his face in. Mostly I just wanted to punch him because I was tired and travel is stressful, but also I've had such good experiences overall, it just really rubbed me the wrong way.

Can you guess what I'll say next? It was really awesome to come home to Siena! Surprise! But my Nonna told me she missed me, because when I'm gone she wanders around the house and la ragazza isn't there! It was so sweet! And she washed all my stuff. Like all of it. My mittens which I haven't worn in months, and my toque, and even my rain jacket which I've been terrified of even trying to wash so I won't tell you how long I've had it lest you be grossed out. I'm going to miss her terribly, she's so sweet.

At which point, I suppose I should say a few words about my impending departure, which is in twelve days technically, but more like eleven since I go to Rome on the 22nd before flying out at the crack of dawn (no seriously, 4 am at the airport for a 6.15 flight) on the 23rd. Today was our last meeting with our program leader, Karen, which was extraordinarily sad for me, and really sort of brought home the fact that I will not be here in two weeks. It's weird because I feel like it has been absolutely no time at all and an eternity. I remember standing in the airport saying, "It's only 3 months, it's approximately 100 days... It will fly by..." and not believing a word of it. I remember the drive from Rome to Siena, feeling completely empty because I had no idea what I was getting into and was too tired to feel anything at all. I remember Valle d'Aosta and Assisi and Florence and it feels like someone else did it and also like I just got back. Weird, I know. 

So here I am, waiting to come back. People have been asking me why I'm not staying, taking advantage of being in Europe. The answer is I'm burned out. I'm tired, and I want to go home and relax and be with people who I know really well. It's not that I don't love travel or that I haven't come to love the people on this trip/in this program, because I do and I have. It's just that I am a person who is very slow to trust, and the next time I travel (and I will do it again), I'm going well prepared and with close friends. Hopefully. And I've actually had people tell me that they are slightly envious I'm going home now... I mean, I'm equally envious they're staying longer! But I think we're all a little homesick. 

Blah blah growing as a person blah blah. I know it, you might know it too. Let's just hope it sticks around. 

Love and misses. 

<3 

All Roads Lead to Rome and All Wines to Alcoholism

Attention: This blog is completely unrelated to alcoholism! It just made for a good title. It's called 'poetic licence' or something. I'll apologize if you were looking forward to that, and remind you I'm more mature than that if you were worried. I am nothing if not magnanimous. 
--
What a weekend/week! Jet-setting all over Italy... and by 'jet-setting' I mean 'bus-setting'. I had an awful lot of sun and my shoulders were definitely feeling it, although I think I've lost most of the tomato-ey colour by now. 
Friday we had another cooking lesson, where I learned to make more pasta, tiramisu, and ragu. If you're really nice to me, maybe I'll make some for you sometime. I thought I'd burned on Friday sitting out in the Campo, but it turns out I just gave myself a strange tan line on my shins from where I'd rolled up my pants. It was Simon's birthday that day too, so a few of us went out for some vino that night, which was really nice.

Unfortunately, however, on Saturday I had to wake up at 5.30 am to catch the 6.15 bus downtown in order to go to Rome for Art History. Which in and of itself wasn't bad, just the getting up early. It wasn't even technically for my Art History class - it was for the other LC class, Roman and Etruscan Art - but all the LClarkies went. I was actually quite glad it wasn't my class, because it meant I didn't have to worry about taking notes and remembering everything really well, I could just enjoy the walk and the view and the information.

We saw the Ara Pacis, an alter for peace built by Augustus to make himself look awesome and celebrate a bunch of victories. It has portraits of famous people of the time around the top and some really gorgeous detailing like a tiny little scorpion on one of the leaves.

Afterwards we went to the Colosseum and then the forum and Palatine Hill where we saw Augustine's house and some fantastic frescoes with amazing detail. It's a pretty cool palace complex, and we got to poke our faces at the windows into his wife's palace, and man was it cool. Dude knew how to take care of a lady (hint hint).

We also wandered around the forum and talked more about that. The temple of the Vestal Virgins was there, and some fighting monks who lived across the street from them. Plus, you know that saying, "All roads lead to Rome"? Well, while that might not be strictly true, I saw the point where they measured all roads from! So that was really exciting! And then we did the Pantheon again, which I loved, as per usual. But I did get a bit too much sun, and my shoulders were definitely that night, so I decided to cover up a bit more the next day. Which was Sunday, and when we went wine tasting in Montepulciano, which is one of the wine villages near(ish) Siena.

The winery we went into is really frickin' old - something like 1000 years! The Contucci family runs it and has forever, as far as I know. And the winery is a hipster's dream. They have all their barrels built out of a combination of French, Italian, and Slovenian (?) wood, each custom shaped for the exact place they go in the storage area. Each barrel has to be replaced every 30 years, and each has a very specific spot. The wine type is called Vino Nobile and has to be made out of two or three kinds of grape and in the right proportions and also left to sit for at least two years. The Contucci can tell you exactly where their grapes come from (because they own the hills and have been growing grapes there forever) and even what side of the hill. Apparently, even if it's the same kind of grape, the side of the hill it comes from can make a huge difference in flavour because of things like sun and soil acidity and so forth. Like the other places we've been, these people claim their product is the best because they can guarantee where everything comes from, and therefore that it's the most natural.

Anyway, the tasting was very nice. We tried a white (not Nobile), a non-Nobile red, and a Nobile red. I like to imagine I could taste the difference, but I might just be talking out my butt. I have this feeling that good red wine leaves this gritty sort of feeling on my tongue, kind of tangy. But again, I might be making that up. I did buy some, because it was extraordinarily inexpensive. Oh and they totally have a bottle of wine from the 1800s. What.

We sort of meandered around in the sun for a while and had a snack (and I put some good karma out into the world) before heading on to Pienza, where Pope Pius II was born (before he became Pope). He was a famous humanist, and one day he decided to flatten his birth place and build the ideal Renaissance city. Which, according to Mike, was kind of a failure. The church is of particular note, because there are no religious markings on it, really, just the crest of the Piccolomini family, which was the Pope's family. 

I had a second (gasp!) gelato, and we took a walk along the wall and took in the amazing view. The weather was so good, and Mike and some of the other program dudes bought some cheese, so we wandered out to a bit of grass and sat and munched and lay in the sun. A few of us almost got left behind because we had the return-time to the bus wrong, but we made it okay. And, best of all, I didn't peel from my burn! Woo!

The rest of the week was much more relaxing than the weekend-which-almost-killed-me (because of the lack of sleep) but also much busier than any other week so far. It's Wednesday now, and I'm flying home in 17 days, which simultaneously feels like the longest time ever and no time at all. I cannot wrap my head around how long I've been here and that I'll be going home really soon. 17 days ago, I was just getting back from Spring Break, and the time between then and now has flown by. I know that I'll be home soon and missing Italy so much, but not only does it feel like forever, but I can't decide if I should be happy or sad, so I settle for some awkward, inarticulable combination of the two.

Tomorrow I'm going to Padova/Venice for the weekend with Trevin and my friend Chris who's coming all the way from Seville, which will be amazing! We're going to try to see the Vesuvian Man in Venice as well as St. Mark's, the Peggy Guggenheim, and Padova's Scrovegni Chapel (look it up, or forever fail at the interactive blogging). I'll let you know how it goes!

In other news, I have gained some weight! Operation Get-Fat is working! Although, it is mostly just the weight I lost last semester when I gave up eating wheat (and by 'gave up' I mean 'cut back heavily on'), but I am optimistic! My Nonna claims I'm un po' più grassa - or 'a little bit fatter' - around the face and the pants. So that's good, probably! I know a couple of you will probably be pleased. My butt will be, if any of it goes there. Fun (and little known) fact: if you are a twig, sitting on your butt in a hard plastic classroom chair for more than an hour becomes almost unbearable. No, seriously. Just one more reason it's better to have some shape.

Unfortunately, you're probably up for some navel-gazing in the near future so be warned! But I'll throw in a fun list of weird things about Italy or something... things I'll miss and things I won't or something like that (I might have stolen that idea from a friend).

Love and misses!

<3