Oh my gosh I LOVE VENICE! What a shock—as people always tell me, “you love every place you go!” This is true, but Venice is different. I am in love with this city—with the scenery, with the culture, and with the people.
I left early last Thursday morning (17 Sept.) for the 2 hour train ride from Bologna to Venezia and arrived at around 10:00. The Venice train station is like none I’ve ever seen before. When entering the train station, you feel as if you’re going to ride off straight into the water. There is water on both sides of the train tracks. Usually you can’t tell that you’re in a specific city until you leave the train station, but it already looks like Venice from the train.
When you walk out of the train station, you see water, a bridge, water taxis, and some more water. The buildings in Venice are colorful and old—they have all been damaged by the water, which I think gives Venice some of its charm.
It was a gorgeous day with sun and all—thank you, God. I turned left out of the train stations and started my journey to the Piazza San Marco. I love how there are no cars in Venice, although there is still traffic—tourist traffic and tons of it. The streets (most of them) are tiny and filled with people and shops. I passed an open air fruit market with some of the prettiest fruit I’ve ever seen. There were typical fruits shining with color—the oranges were the color of the tangerine crayola crayon and the peaches were a mixture of pink, red, and orange. There were other fruits that I’d never seen before too.
Shortly after the fruit market I stopped at a stand selling smoothies, fruit salad, and sangria (keep in mind that it was 10:30am!). I ordered a strawberry, raspberry, banana, and orange smoothie for breakfast that quite possibly could be the best smoothie I’ve ever tasted. It’s also possible that I felt this way because I was in Venice on a beautiful sunny day.
I walked through the Jewish ghetto and continued my journey to the Piazza San Marco. In some places, the streets were packed full of tourists and in others, I was the only person walking down the street. Every bridge I crossed and every piazza I came upon was a photo op and a wonderful place to simply enjoy the moment.
I ended up going to the Rialto Bridge and the Mercato Rialto before going to the Piazza San Marco. The bridge is enormous and has hundreds of people on it at all times of the days. The mercato is just on the other side of the bridge. It’s not as big as the Mercato San Lorenzo, but it is a great place to shop. There are masks and objects made from Murano glass everywhere.
After the mercato I headed for the Piazza San Marco. As I walked down the street leaving into the Piazza, I saw people walking away in bare feet with their pants rolled up to their knees, and when I entered the piazza, I understood why—it was flooded! There was water everywhere and platforms were set up around the piazza for people to walk on. I have never seen anything like this—people everywhere were walking around one of the most famous squares in the world without shoes. So I decided to join the crowd and also take off my shoes. There wasn’t much else to do but take some pictures and laugh about the rare occurrence of a flood in the Piazza San Marco. It was fantastic.
I walked around the square until I reached the Basilica where hundreds of people were standing on the platform trying to get a closer look at the church no one could go into because of the water. There were so many people on the platform that a police officer was controlling the “traffic!”
I exited the Piazza on the far right side and walked along the water. As you walk along, the contrast between the colorful buildings on one side, the water on the other, and all of the stands selling souvenirs in the middle seems strange—almost shocking.
There are also many painters trying to capture the beauty of Venice with oil on canvas. Many of the painters are quite pushy—walking up to tourists and trying to convince them that they are the best painters and paint the best quality paintings—insisting that shelling out 100 euros for a medium size painting is the “best price” you’ll find.
I steered clear of those painters and found one names Giovanni. He was an older man, maybe in his 60’s, waiting patiently to show people his life’s purpose—his paintings. I walked up to his stand because I was initially drawn in by the brilliant colors he uses in his paintings. I asked him how much his paintings cost and instead of giving me a price (he said, “Parliamo di questo piu tarde” (We’ll talk about that later)), he started to telling me about his career as a painter. He showed me how he paints different scenes in Venice—which brushes he uses, why he uses certain colors, etc. He also showed me all of his favorite paintings and explained each choice thoroughly. The first painting I saw was the one that I wanted—it was a painting of a quiet canal in Venice at sunset where the locals live, he told me. The sky was orange and pink, reflecting on the water. I told him that I liked that one because of the colors, but that I didn’t want to spend that much. So he showed me some smaller paintings that were similar and gives me a discount “perche parla bene l’italiano” (because you speak Italian well).
We continue to talk (all in Italian, of course) for the next 20 minutes. He asks me where I learned Italian, how long I will be in Italy, where I am going next, and what I like most about Italy. Before leaving, I ask him my new favorite question to ask locals—“Dov’e il tuo ristorante preferito?” (Where is your favorite restaurant?) He told me that his favorite restaurant was on an island in Venice about 2 hours away and to get there, you have to take 3 different boats. He saw the look on my face and understood that I didn’t have that much time, so he suggested another restaurant nearby. He took one of this business cards and drew a map on the back. He told me the place was a local favorite—all Italians, and that the food was simple, but delicious. He said the place was always busy and it was chaotic inside—waiters running around everywhere, cooks yelling out orders. It sounded perfect.
The restaurant—Trattoria Rivetta—was exactly as Giovanni described. It was tiny, and each table sat 6 people. If you were by yourself, they sat you at the first available spot. All of the waiters and cooks were speaking Veneto, as well as many of the people inside. Venetto is the Venitian dialect and it is very difficult to understand. The food was very simple and very tasty. I will always be thankful to Giovanni for giving me the map to that restaurant because it was such a typical Italian experience.
After lunch, I didn’t have much time left in Venice. I went back to the Piazza San Marco (now dry), got some gelato, and people watched for a little while. I then asked a local where I could catch the Vaporetto to go to the Ferrovia (train station). He pointed me in the right direction, I bought my ticket, and got on the next boat (the Vaporetto is like a bus, but on water). On the ride back, I was able to see some of the houses where the locals live. The front doors open up onto a small ledge and then there is water. People take their boats instead of their cars out to go shopping on the other side of town. It’s an amazing life.
I wandered around the train station area for a little while and then got on the train to head back to Bologna. I stared out the window until I couldn’t see the water anymore. Arrivederci Venezia…ci vediamo!
9.26.2009
When life gives you lemons, make Limoncello
(Firenze: Parte due)
Day two in Florence started at 7:30am. We left the hostel to get an early start on everything we needed to see today that we couldn’t see yesterday. I love how everything in Florence is open early—walking down the streets, there are cafés and bars open, people going to work, and shop owners opening their stores for the day. We had some breakfast in a small caffé and then walked to the Accademia, which opens at 8:15am. When we got there at 8:30, there was a line about 50 people deep and it took us about a half hour to get in.
When we got into the museum, it was packed! Melinda and I planned to meet back at the front in 2 hours. This museum (other than the Prado) might be my favorite museum of all time. I was fascinated by every object in every room.
The first room I went into was the musical instrument museum room where they displayed one of the first pianofortes. They explained how the piano worked and had a place where you could play the piano and watch its inner workings while playing.
Next, I saw the David—absolutely incredible. I dropped in on a few tour groups listening to their guide talk about how some of the David—a sculpture meant to be the perfect man—has been damaged over the years. There is a crack in his right hand, as well as a big piece of stone missing from his right toe due to some crazy man who came into the Accademia and started hitting the statue with a hammer a few years ago.
My favorite room in the museum, though, was the 19th century sculpture room. Every sculpture was perfectly beautiful in its own way. They are perfectly formed, almost looking like frozen bodies. Each sculpture represents a part of the Florentine culture of the past and gives you a an idea of how people lived.
We walked to the train station to get our tickets to our respective destinations and passed through the Chiesa Santa Maria Novella—my favorite church in Florence. It has an incredible altar—a huge stained glass window stretches from ceiling to floor surrounded by hundreds of paintings.
Next we went to the Mercato San Lorenzo—the biggest outdoor market in Florence full of traditional Florentine items and lots of leather! There were beautiful leather shoes, purses, and wallets that were irresistible. I bought so many great gifts here. We had lunch near the mercato at a place called Mama Toscana—a funky (in a good way) and lively traditional Tuscan restaurant.
We walked around after lunch and went to Dante’s house (thanks St. Mary’s for teaching me about Dante!) and reminisced about the joy and misery of reading “Dante’s Inferno.” We then went into a great bookstore that had a book entitled: "When life gives you lemons, make Limoncello." I love this title--it's so...Florence.
The last place we went in Florence was one of my favorite activities—the Palazzo Vecchio. Melinda and I had booked a tour called the “Activities Tour—Secret Passageways” earlier in the morning. There were only 12 people in our tour group (the maximum) and our guide took us to all of the places in the Palazzo not open to the general public. Not only did she take us there, but she also took us through secret passageways in the literal sense.
Throughout the Palazzo, the Medici family built secret passageways from one room to another. There were small staircases built into the walls of the Palazzo. The first room we went into was called the “studiolo” (study). It was in the shape of a giant treasure box. There were faded paintings on the ceiling and paintings all over the walls and the paintings on the walls were actually secret hiding places. All of the paintings required a key to open and one of the paintings was a door leading to another staircase which led to a smaller room. This room belonged to Cosimo Medici. It was also shaped like a treasure chest with places to hide treasures behind each painting.
We concluded the tour by going into a huge room that looked almost like it should be a church. However, our guide made it clear that this room was never meant to be used for religious purposes—it was used for general assemblies and political gatherings. The entire ceiling was covered in paintings which have only ever been taken down twice, once during WWII. We went upstairs and were able to see how the paintings were held up by a suspension system in the roof so strong that the paintings can never be damages. It was amazing.
After the tour, we walked back to the hostel and stopped in a fantastic shop to get
some olive oil (the man who owned the shop had been making olive oil for 30 years). I got my backpack and walked to the train station. I never wanted to leave Florence…
Day two in Florence started at 7:30am. We left the hostel to get an early start on everything we needed to see today that we couldn’t see yesterday. I love how everything in Florence is open early—walking down the streets, there are cafés and bars open, people going to work, and shop owners opening their stores for the day. We had some breakfast in a small caffé and then walked to the Accademia, which opens at 8:15am. When we got there at 8:30, there was a line about 50 people deep and it took us about a half hour to get in.
When we got into the museum, it was packed! Melinda and I planned to meet back at the front in 2 hours. This museum (other than the Prado) might be my favorite museum of all time. I was fascinated by every object in every room.
The first room I went into was the musical instrument museum room where they displayed one of the first pianofortes. They explained how the piano worked and had a place where you could play the piano and watch its inner workings while playing.
Next, I saw the David—absolutely incredible. I dropped in on a few tour groups listening to their guide talk about how some of the David—a sculpture meant to be the perfect man—has been damaged over the years. There is a crack in his right hand, as well as a big piece of stone missing from his right toe due to some crazy man who came into the Accademia and started hitting the statue with a hammer a few years ago.
My favorite room in the museum, though, was the 19th century sculpture room. Every sculpture was perfectly beautiful in its own way. They are perfectly formed, almost looking like frozen bodies. Each sculpture represents a part of the Florentine culture of the past and gives you a an idea of how people lived.
We walked to the train station to get our tickets to our respective destinations and passed through the Chiesa Santa Maria Novella—my favorite church in Florence. It has an incredible altar—a huge stained glass window stretches from ceiling to floor surrounded by hundreds of paintings.
Next we went to the Mercato San Lorenzo—the biggest outdoor market in Florence full of traditional Florentine items and lots of leather! There were beautiful leather shoes, purses, and wallets that were irresistible. I bought so many great gifts here. We had lunch near the mercato at a place called Mama Toscana—a funky (in a good way) and lively traditional Tuscan restaurant.
We walked around after lunch and went to Dante’s house (thanks St. Mary’s for teaching me about Dante!) and reminisced about the joy and misery of reading “Dante’s Inferno.” We then went into a great bookstore that had a book entitled: "When life gives you lemons, make Limoncello." I love this title--it's so...Florence.
The last place we went in Florence was one of my favorite activities—the Palazzo Vecchio. Melinda and I had booked a tour called the “Activities Tour—Secret Passageways” earlier in the morning. There were only 12 people in our tour group (the maximum) and our guide took us to all of the places in the Palazzo not open to the general public. Not only did she take us there, but she also took us through secret passageways in the literal sense.
Throughout the Palazzo, the Medici family built secret passageways from one room to another. There were small staircases built into the walls of the Palazzo. The first room we went into was called the “studiolo” (study). It was in the shape of a giant treasure box. There were faded paintings on the ceiling and paintings all over the walls and the paintings on the walls were actually secret hiding places. All of the paintings required a key to open and one of the paintings was a door leading to another staircase which led to a smaller room. This room belonged to Cosimo Medici. It was also shaped like a treasure chest with places to hide treasures behind each painting.
We concluded the tour by going into a huge room that looked almost like it should be a church. However, our guide made it clear that this room was never meant to be used for religious purposes—it was used for general assemblies and political gatherings. The entire ceiling was covered in paintings which have only ever been taken down twice, once during WWII. We went upstairs and were able to see how the paintings were held up by a suspension system in the roof so strong that the paintings can never be damages. It was amazing.
After the tour, we walked back to the hostel and stopped in a fantastic shop to get
some olive oil (the man who owned the shop had been making olive oil for 30 years). I got my backpack and walked to the train station. I never wanted to leave Florence…
9.24.2009
When life gives you lemons, make limoncello!
Firenze (Parte 1)
Florence is a city full of beautiful leather, wonderful food, fascinating museums, jaw-dropping monuments, and much, much more. I was only in Florence for 31 hours and I already can’t wait for my next trip.
I arrived in Florence last Monday afternoon (Sept. 14) at the Santa Maria Novella train station after a 2 hour delay in Prato due to an extremely frightening thunder and lightning storm. I stepped out of the train station into the pouring rain wearing capris, a t-shirt, and flip-flops—the complete opposite of what I should have been wearing (a raincoat, jeans, and tennis shoes!). Needless to say, I was not at all excited for the 30 minute walk to my hostel. So I started my seemingly endless trek to the Ostello Santa Monica with map in hand, but still asking directions every few streets just to be sure I was going the right way. Forty minutes later, I walked into the front door of the hostel sopping wet, starving, freezing cold, and smiling. I didn’t care that it was raining because I was in one of Italy’s most beautiful cities. I am in complete agreement with Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love author)—“Traveling is the great true love of my life…I feel about travel the way a happy new mother feels about her impossibly, colicky, restless newborn baby—I just don’t care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because it’s mine.”
As I was checking into the hostel trying to figure out what the heck I was going to do and see in the pouring rain, I met another girl (Melinda) from California also traveling by herself. We were both going to be in Florence for 2 days and I decided to see Florence together—and I am so glad we did.
It was 2:00pm and neither of us had eaten, so we decided to go try to find the most local restaurant possible for a real Tuscan meal. We ended up at a small Trattoria down a pedestrian-only street near the Duomo. It was full of locals (always a sign of a good restaurant) and when we sat down to eat the bread, we remembered that bread in Tuscany doesn’t have salt. I like that about Florence—it’s different and unique to the Tuscan region. Melinda doesn’t speak any Italian and the waiters didn’t speak English, so I ordered for us. I always gain a lot of confidence in my language abilities when traveling by myself. I spoke a lot of Italian in Florence and loved it. After a fantastic meal of tagliatelle (fettuccine) con funghi and getting to know each other, Melinda and I headed for the Duomo (Santa Maria dei Fiori).
Now, I didn’t prepare for my trip to Florence as much as I usually prepare for trips—I didn’t have a guidebook, I didn’t know a lot about the city’s appearance, and I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to see. Because of this, though, I think seeing the Duomo was even more amazing. Walking into the Duomo—one of the most famous cathedrals ever—I was expecting something detailed and ornate like many other churches in Europe, but even more beautiful. Instead, the walls inside are oddly blank—plain white, simple. Nothing about the interior of the Santa Maria dei Fiori seems particularly eye-catching until you reach the altar and look up at Brunelleschi’s Dome. I have seen many beautiful paintings in churches throughout Europe, but nothing like this. This was special—the kind of thing everyone deserves to see once in their lifetime. We climbed 500 steps to the top of the Duomo for a beautiful view of the city, and then rewarded ourselves with our first gelato in Florence.
We spent the next few hours wandering around the streets of Florence in the rain. There is always something amazing to see in Florence, no matter where you are. We would pick a random street to walk down, take a few left turns, and end up in a gorgeous piazza or in front of a famous monument. At one point we ended up at a synagogue in a more local part of the city.
We headed back toward the hostel around 10:00pm and stopped at a delicious pizzeria on the way for some margherita pizza. Day one in Florence was a success!
Florence is a city full of beautiful leather, wonderful food, fascinating museums, jaw-dropping monuments, and much, much more. I was only in Florence for 31 hours and I already can’t wait for my next trip.
I arrived in Florence last Monday afternoon (Sept. 14) at the Santa Maria Novella train station after a 2 hour delay in Prato due to an extremely frightening thunder and lightning storm. I stepped out of the train station into the pouring rain wearing capris, a t-shirt, and flip-flops—the complete opposite of what I should have been wearing (a raincoat, jeans, and tennis shoes!). Needless to say, I was not at all excited for the 30 minute walk to my hostel. So I started my seemingly endless trek to the Ostello Santa Monica with map in hand, but still asking directions every few streets just to be sure I was going the right way. Forty minutes later, I walked into the front door of the hostel sopping wet, starving, freezing cold, and smiling. I didn’t care that it was raining because I was in one of Italy’s most beautiful cities. I am in complete agreement with Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love author)—“Traveling is the great true love of my life…I feel about travel the way a happy new mother feels about her impossibly, colicky, restless newborn baby—I just don’t care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because it’s mine.”
As I was checking into the hostel trying to figure out what the heck I was going to do and see in the pouring rain, I met another girl (Melinda) from California also traveling by herself. We were both going to be in Florence for 2 days and I decided to see Florence together—and I am so glad we did.
It was 2:00pm and neither of us had eaten, so we decided to go try to find the most local restaurant possible for a real Tuscan meal. We ended up at a small Trattoria down a pedestrian-only street near the Duomo. It was full of locals (always a sign of a good restaurant) and when we sat down to eat the bread, we remembered that bread in Tuscany doesn’t have salt. I like that about Florence—it’s different and unique to the Tuscan region. Melinda doesn’t speak any Italian and the waiters didn’t speak English, so I ordered for us. I always gain a lot of confidence in my language abilities when traveling by myself. I spoke a lot of Italian in Florence and loved it. After a fantastic meal of tagliatelle (fettuccine) con funghi and getting to know each other, Melinda and I headed for the Duomo (Santa Maria dei Fiori).
Now, I didn’t prepare for my trip to Florence as much as I usually prepare for trips—I didn’t have a guidebook, I didn’t know a lot about the city’s appearance, and I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to see. Because of this, though, I think seeing the Duomo was even more amazing. Walking into the Duomo—one of the most famous cathedrals ever—I was expecting something detailed and ornate like many other churches in Europe, but even more beautiful. Instead, the walls inside are oddly blank—plain white, simple. Nothing about the interior of the Santa Maria dei Fiori seems particularly eye-catching until you reach the altar and look up at Brunelleschi’s Dome. I have seen many beautiful paintings in churches throughout Europe, but nothing like this. This was special—the kind of thing everyone deserves to see once in their lifetime. We climbed 500 steps to the top of the Duomo for a beautiful view of the city, and then rewarded ourselves with our first gelato in Florence.
We spent the next few hours wandering around the streets of Florence in the rain. There is always something amazing to see in Florence, no matter where you are. We would pick a random street to walk down, take a few left turns, and end up in a gorgeous piazza or in front of a famous monument. At one point we ended up at a synagogue in a more local part of the city.
We headed back toward the hostel around 10:00pm and stopped at a delicious pizzeria on the way for some margherita pizza. Day one in Florence was a success!
9.18.2009
La Dolce Vita in Italia (Bologna)
I arrived in Bologna, Italy via train last Wednesday evening (9 September) and since then have eaten the most incredible meal I’ve ever tasted, gone for gelato far too many times, climbed the Duomo in Florence, taken pictures on the Ponte Rialto in Venice, and spoken lots and lots of Italian.
The train ride from Paris to Bologna was long, but entertaining. For the first few hours of the trip, everyone was speaking French. The guards who came by every few stops to check passports and train tickets all spoke French, and I responded “Merci.” After about 4 hours, we went through a long 40 minute tunnel and made our first stop in Italy immediately. Suddenly, everyone on the train spoke Italian, and when the guards came by to check our passports, I now responded, “Grazie.”
While in Italy, I am staying with our good family friends, the Caruso’s, who live in Bologna. We spent my first few days in Bologna preparing for and celebrating Ale’s 11th birthday. We went shopping for food, stuffed the piñata, decorated the garden and the cake, and made mini pizzas (from scratch!). In between preparing for the party, Laura and I saw a movie in Italian at a one screen movie theater (it was an old-fashioned theater—one where they change the movie once a week and there was an intermission in the middle of the movie), ate the best gelato in Bologna at Il Gelato di Fini, walked dogs from the pound, and went swimming.
Ale’s party was last Thursday night and everyone had a great time. Ale’s friends and their parents are all very international—one of the mom’s is married to a German, another mom speaks Spanish, and another mom is from Madrid. I have to say that speaking Spanish in Italy was great fun. That night Ale’s friend Martina slept over and the three of us watched the Hannah Montana Movie in Italian.
The next day, Ale’s actual birthday, was unbelievably and unexpectedly fun. We woke up early to go to a theme park near Bologna called Mirabilandia—a mix between Great America and Disneyland. We met Martina’s parents and little sister Beatrice at the park and went inside. I hadn’t been to a theme park in maybe 10 years, and I’m not a huge fan of big roller coasters, so I was a little nervous, but also excited. We ended up going on pretty calm rides and had a blast. Coincidentally, we saw two sets of cousins at the theme park. The first group of cousins just stopped by to say hi, but the second group of cousins joined us and we spent the rest of the day with them! Letizia, the cousin closest to Ale’s age, kept speaking to me in Italy and I loved it!
We left Mirabilandia around 5:30 and drove to the beach for dinner—a night and a meal I will never ever forget. The beach was in a town called Punta Marina not far from the theme park. When we got there, we went in to say hello to the owners of the restaurant, who the Caruso’s know. Max, one of the owners, is a professional volleyball player when summer ends and his sister was the captain of the Olympic Italian volleyball team. Max’s mom is also one of the cooks for the restaurant. After saying hi to everyone and ordering our food, Ale, Martina and I went swimming in the “bay.” It was like the ocean, but much warmer. We played in the waves for about an hour and by the time we were done, dinner was ready.
The food was FANTASTIC—hands down the best meal I have ever tasted. When we ordered our food earlier, I didn’t know what to get because everything was fish, so Paul and Laura ordered for me. I wasn’t sure what to expect because I am somewhat new to eating fish. The result was more than I ever could have expected—spaghetti with 7 different types of fish: shrimp (gamberetti), prawns (gamberoni), crab (cranchio), clams (gongole), muscles (cozze), scampi, and conochie. At the table we were speaking a mix of Italian, Spanish and English (Martina and Bea’s parents speak Spanish) and enjoying an unforgettable meal. For dessert we had homemade crepes filled with jam and nutella. After dinner, Martina, Ale, Paul and I played beach volleyball for a while before going home. It was an incredible night and one that words could never justly describe.
The next day I went to Ale’s softball game and then we went into downtown Bologna. We climbed to the top of the tower for a view of the city and then climbed to the Church of San Luca—a beautiful, hilltop church that you can see from almost everywhere in Bologna.
Skipping ahead a few days, my last night in Bologna was yesterday. After getting home from Venice, we went out to dinner at a delicious, local restaurant in Bologna for some traditional Bolognese food. Then we went for my last gelato in Italy…for a while at least.
So that was my trip to Bologna in a nutshell. THANK YOU Caruso family for letting me stay with you—I had a wonderful time with you all. Still to come—blogs about my trips to Florence and Venice. Ciao!
The train ride from Paris to Bologna was long, but entertaining. For the first few hours of the trip, everyone was speaking French. The guards who came by every few stops to check passports and train tickets all spoke French, and I responded “Merci.” After about 4 hours, we went through a long 40 minute tunnel and made our first stop in Italy immediately. Suddenly, everyone on the train spoke Italian, and when the guards came by to check our passports, I now responded, “Grazie.”
While in Italy, I am staying with our good family friends, the Caruso’s, who live in Bologna. We spent my first few days in Bologna preparing for and celebrating Ale’s 11th birthday. We went shopping for food, stuffed the piñata, decorated the garden and the cake, and made mini pizzas (from scratch!). In between preparing for the party, Laura and I saw a movie in Italian at a one screen movie theater (it was an old-fashioned theater—one where they change the movie once a week and there was an intermission in the middle of the movie), ate the best gelato in Bologna at Il Gelato di Fini, walked dogs from the pound, and went swimming.
Ale’s party was last Thursday night and everyone had a great time. Ale’s friends and their parents are all very international—one of the mom’s is married to a German, another mom speaks Spanish, and another mom is from Madrid. I have to say that speaking Spanish in Italy was great fun. That night Ale’s friend Martina slept over and the three of us watched the Hannah Montana Movie in Italian.
The next day, Ale’s actual birthday, was unbelievably and unexpectedly fun. We woke up early to go to a theme park near Bologna called Mirabilandia—a mix between Great America and Disneyland. We met Martina’s parents and little sister Beatrice at the park and went inside. I hadn’t been to a theme park in maybe 10 years, and I’m not a huge fan of big roller coasters, so I was a little nervous, but also excited. We ended up going on pretty calm rides and had a blast. Coincidentally, we saw two sets of cousins at the theme park. The first group of cousins just stopped by to say hi, but the second group of cousins joined us and we spent the rest of the day with them! Letizia, the cousin closest to Ale’s age, kept speaking to me in Italy and I loved it!
We left Mirabilandia around 5:30 and drove to the beach for dinner—a night and a meal I will never ever forget. The beach was in a town called Punta Marina not far from the theme park. When we got there, we went in to say hello to the owners of the restaurant, who the Caruso’s know. Max, one of the owners, is a professional volleyball player when summer ends and his sister was the captain of the Olympic Italian volleyball team. Max’s mom is also one of the cooks for the restaurant. After saying hi to everyone and ordering our food, Ale, Martina and I went swimming in the “bay.” It was like the ocean, but much warmer. We played in the waves for about an hour and by the time we were done, dinner was ready.
The food was FANTASTIC—hands down the best meal I have ever tasted. When we ordered our food earlier, I didn’t know what to get because everything was fish, so Paul and Laura ordered for me. I wasn’t sure what to expect because I am somewhat new to eating fish. The result was more than I ever could have expected—spaghetti with 7 different types of fish: shrimp (gamberetti), prawns (gamberoni), crab (cranchio), clams (gongole), muscles (cozze), scampi, and conochie. At the table we were speaking a mix of Italian, Spanish and English (Martina and Bea’s parents speak Spanish) and enjoying an unforgettable meal. For dessert we had homemade crepes filled with jam and nutella. After dinner, Martina, Ale, Paul and I played beach volleyball for a while before going home. It was an incredible night and one that words could never justly describe.
The next day I went to Ale’s softball game and then we went into downtown Bologna. We climbed to the top of the tower for a view of the city and then climbed to the Church of San Luca—a beautiful, hilltop church that you can see from almost everywhere in Bologna.
Skipping ahead a few days, my last night in Bologna was yesterday. After getting home from Venice, we went out to dinner at a delicious, local restaurant in Bologna for some traditional Bolognese food. Then we went for my last gelato in Italy…for a while at least.
So that was my trip to Bologna in a nutshell. THANK YOU Caruso family for letting me stay with you—I had a wonderful time with you all. Still to come—blogs about my trips to Florence and Venice. Ciao!
9.08.2009
All Things French
All Things French
It is my last night in Paris and I am not prepared to leave a life that involves seeing the Tour Eiffel, going to the Musée du Louvre, shopping on the Champs Élysées, picnicking on the Pont des Arts, and all things French.
Now, I encountered many “French” experiences while in Paris. I have become accustomed to the French way of greeting (two kisses rather than a handshake), the French way of dining (good French food continued by hours of conversation), the French way of transportation (taking the metro/walking everywhere), and the French way of speaking (in French of course!).
The other day while buying a gift, the (middle-aged) woman at the counter saw what I was buying and said, “C’est chouette!” (That’s cool/neat!) I was so excited when I heard her say this because it is a phrase that I learned in one of my French classes with Madame. I couldn’t believe people actually said that! (Younger people say the more common “C’est cool!”) I am so fascinated by and immersed in the French language and Parisian culture that leaving seems like an enormous effort and adjustment at this moment.
The last few days in Paris have been beautiful, “California weather” days. Clo, Daniel and I spent Saturday in the Montparnasse quarter of Paris—an area full of great restaurants and beautiful architecture. We went to sushi for lunch and then visited the church where the “Da Vinci Code” was filmed. We stopped by an English book store near a street full of English pubs—it reminded me of Oxford. After exploring the streets of Montparnasse, we took pictures in the dazzling Luxembourg gardens. The flowers were blooming with color and there was a bride and groom getting their picture taken. We stopped by the Tour Eiffel (along with thousands of other tourists) on the way home.
Sunday might just be my favorite day in Paris. I woke up to the sun shining brightly through the window. We had a big English brunch—bacon, crumpets, and tomatoes soaked in balsamic vinegar. After brunch, I spent the day in Montmarte—hands down my favorite place in Paris. Montmarte almost seems to have its own culture. There is a “living life for each moment and each day as it comes” sort of vibe here that is unlike anywhere else I’ve encountered in Paris.
The streets are long and narrow, at first full of tourists going to see the Sacré Coeur and then locals buying baguettes at the boulangerie. The Sacré Coeur is possibly my favorite basilica in the world. Walking up to this impressive cathedral, there are people everywhere—tourists and Parisians alike—sitting on the steps, lying on the grass, deep in conversation while enjoying the sun. There are street performers singing, dancing, and playing instruments hoping for tips and entertaining the crowds of people. Inside the Sacré Coeur, you can’t help but want to say a prayer of thanks to God for letting you experience such beauty. Even among thousands of people inside the basilica, I felt like I was sharing a moment between me and God. I lit a candle and said a prayer of remembrance for Uncle Dan, Aunt Grace, Jamie, Br. Richard, and Matt before leaving. I spent the next few hours wondering around Montmarte. I had my fourth nutella crépe of the trip, spent some time people watching, and speaking French (as best I could) with some of the locals.
Tonight, sadly, was my last night in Paris and it could not have been more perfect (or more “French”). My friend Danielle told me about the “Pont des Arts experience” when she found out I was going to Paris, and I am so grateful to her because tonight was one of the most amazing nights I’ve had in all of my travels. Clo, Daniel and I went to the Pont des Arts for sunset tonight—a bridge on the Seine River behind the Louvre. We picked up a bottle of good French wine and some baguette, ham, cheese, and tomatoes on the way. When we got there, hundreds of people (both locals and tourists) were enjoying good food, good wine, and good company just as we did while watching the sun set over the Seine. Believe it or not, this is a nightly occurrence for many in Paris.
I am leaving in six hours for Italy—a place I know is full of adventures just waiting for my arrival. I will miss Paris as if it were my home, but I am excited to speak Italian, eat Italian food, and experience “la dolce vita.” Buona notte e ci vediamo in Italia!
xoxo
Kel
It is my last night in Paris and I am not prepared to leave a life that involves seeing the Tour Eiffel, going to the Musée du Louvre, shopping on the Champs Élysées, picnicking on the Pont des Arts, and all things French.
Now, I encountered many “French” experiences while in Paris. I have become accustomed to the French way of greeting (two kisses rather than a handshake), the French way of dining (good French food continued by hours of conversation), the French way of transportation (taking the metro/walking everywhere), and the French way of speaking (in French of course!).
The other day while buying a gift, the (middle-aged) woman at the counter saw what I was buying and said, “C’est chouette!” (That’s cool/neat!) I was so excited when I heard her say this because it is a phrase that I learned in one of my French classes with Madame. I couldn’t believe people actually said that! (Younger people say the more common “C’est cool!”) I am so fascinated by and immersed in the French language and Parisian culture that leaving seems like an enormous effort and adjustment at this moment.
The last few days in Paris have been beautiful, “California weather” days. Clo, Daniel and I spent Saturday in the Montparnasse quarter of Paris—an area full of great restaurants and beautiful architecture. We went to sushi for lunch and then visited the church where the “Da Vinci Code” was filmed. We stopped by an English book store near a street full of English pubs—it reminded me of Oxford. After exploring the streets of Montparnasse, we took pictures in the dazzling Luxembourg gardens. The flowers were blooming with color and there was a bride and groom getting their picture taken. We stopped by the Tour Eiffel (along with thousands of other tourists) on the way home.
Sunday might just be my favorite day in Paris. I woke up to the sun shining brightly through the window. We had a big English brunch—bacon, crumpets, and tomatoes soaked in balsamic vinegar. After brunch, I spent the day in Montmarte—hands down my favorite place in Paris. Montmarte almost seems to have its own culture. There is a “living life for each moment and each day as it comes” sort of vibe here that is unlike anywhere else I’ve encountered in Paris.
The streets are long and narrow, at first full of tourists going to see the Sacré Coeur and then locals buying baguettes at the boulangerie. The Sacré Coeur is possibly my favorite basilica in the world. Walking up to this impressive cathedral, there are people everywhere—tourists and Parisians alike—sitting on the steps, lying on the grass, deep in conversation while enjoying the sun. There are street performers singing, dancing, and playing instruments hoping for tips and entertaining the crowds of people. Inside the Sacré Coeur, you can’t help but want to say a prayer of thanks to God for letting you experience such beauty. Even among thousands of people inside the basilica, I felt like I was sharing a moment between me and God. I lit a candle and said a prayer of remembrance for Uncle Dan, Aunt Grace, Jamie, Br. Richard, and Matt before leaving. I spent the next few hours wondering around Montmarte. I had my fourth nutella crépe of the trip, spent some time people watching, and speaking French (as best I could) with some of the locals.
Tonight, sadly, was my last night in Paris and it could not have been more perfect (or more “French”). My friend Danielle told me about the “Pont des Arts experience” when she found out I was going to Paris, and I am so grateful to her because tonight was one of the most amazing nights I’ve had in all of my travels. Clo, Daniel and I went to the Pont des Arts for sunset tonight—a bridge on the Seine River behind the Louvre. We picked up a bottle of good French wine and some baguette, ham, cheese, and tomatoes on the way. When we got there, hundreds of people (both locals and tourists) were enjoying good food, good wine, and good company just as we did while watching the sun set over the Seine. Believe it or not, this is a nightly occurrence for many in Paris.
I am leaving in six hours for Italy—a place I know is full of adventures just waiting for my arrival. I will miss Paris as if it were my home, but I am excited to speak Italian, eat Italian food, and experience “la dolce vita.” Buona notte e ci vediamo in Italia!
xoxo
Kel
9.04.2009
Paris, je t'aime
DAY 2 EN PARIS
The next morning, we took the bus back to Clo’s apartment. Taking the bus in a foreign country is always an adventure. It is a great place to people watch as well as see the sights of Paris, including the many very wealthy neighborhoods here. I had a great French experience when we got back. Clo and I were making something for lunch and we realized we needed butter. Naturally, I volunteered to go buy some. I walked into the market and asked, “Ou est le beurre?” After finding the type I was looking for, I checked out and spoke a little more French. On the way home, I was mistaken for a local by another local asking for directions. Of course I had no idea what she was saying, so sadly I had to say, “Je suis desolée. Je ne parle pas le fracais” (I’m sorry, I don’t speak French).
Clo and I hopped back on the bus after lunch and headed to the Arc de Triomph. Standing underneath the Arc, it is enormous…and swarming with tourists. We took some pictures and then walked down the Champs Élysées—an experience that falls under one of the many reasons why I love Paris so much. The Champs Élysées makes you feel somehow sophisticated and joyful in an inexplicable way.
On the way home, we stopped at a gourmet market just outside the metro. This was a French market that had many international foods and some of the loveliest fruits and vegetables I’ve ever seen. The peaches were perfectly round and red-orange and the cherry tomatoes are shine. We bought some baguette and cheese from Holland and had a quiet night inside after a tiring day. We watched “The Devil Wears Prada” and said “bonne nuit.”
DAY 3 EN PARIS
I haven’t talked much about the weather, which isn’t a particularly interesting subject except for the fact that it’s raining, windy, and very very cold here in Paris this morning. I decided that it was a good museum day. The plan was to go to both the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay, however I ended up spending all of my time in the Louvre. I stopped by a café on the way to the Louvre for some delicious pain au chocolat. Walking into the Louvre courtyard to see the giant pyramids right in front of you is always an exciting moment. You feel like you’re walking into Dan Brown’s book The Da Vinci Code. Because I was by myself, I kept asking people (in French, English, and Spanish) to take pictures of me after offering to take pictures of them. Although I don’t love being around other tourists when I travel, I do love meeting tourists who are as nice as the one’s I met today. I spent almost 4 hours in the Louvre looking at Egyptian artifacts, Greek sculptures, and Spanish, Italian, and French paintings. I don’t know why I love art museums as much as I do.
After the Louvre, I spent a few hours walking around the tourist and non-tourist parts of the area surrounding the museum. There is always something new to discover around every corner in Paris—a gorgeous church, a historic building, an outdoor market.
After spending some time getting lost in the streets of Paris, I went to Longchamp to buy my purse. I am getting a little more confident with my French as the days pass. Longchamp was busy, so I decided to be bold and ask one of the sales people to help me. I said, “Excusez-moi, parlez-vous l’anglais?” to which she responded a hesitant, “Une petite peau.” I decided it would be easier to speak French, so I showed her the bag I wanted, but asked for a smaller size and a different color—all in French. She then spoke to me as if I was fluent in French. I didn’t understand most of what she said, but I had fun trying! Paris, je t'aime.
Bonne nuit et a bientot!
The next morning, we took the bus back to Clo’s apartment. Taking the bus in a foreign country is always an adventure. It is a great place to people watch as well as see the sights of Paris, including the many very wealthy neighborhoods here. I had a great French experience when we got back. Clo and I were making something for lunch and we realized we needed butter. Naturally, I volunteered to go buy some. I walked into the market and asked, “Ou est le beurre?” After finding the type I was looking for, I checked out and spoke a little more French. On the way home, I was mistaken for a local by another local asking for directions. Of course I had no idea what she was saying, so sadly I had to say, “Je suis desolée. Je ne parle pas le fracais” (I’m sorry, I don’t speak French).
Clo and I hopped back on the bus after lunch and headed to the Arc de Triomph. Standing underneath the Arc, it is enormous…and swarming with tourists. We took some pictures and then walked down the Champs Élysées—an experience that falls under one of the many reasons why I love Paris so much. The Champs Élysées makes you feel somehow sophisticated and joyful in an inexplicable way.
On the way home, we stopped at a gourmet market just outside the metro. This was a French market that had many international foods and some of the loveliest fruits and vegetables I’ve ever seen. The peaches were perfectly round and red-orange and the cherry tomatoes are shine. We bought some baguette and cheese from Holland and had a quiet night inside after a tiring day. We watched “The Devil Wears Prada” and said “bonne nuit.”
DAY 3 EN PARIS
I haven’t talked much about the weather, which isn’t a particularly interesting subject except for the fact that it’s raining, windy, and very very cold here in Paris this morning. I decided that it was a good museum day. The plan was to go to both the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay, however I ended up spending all of my time in the Louvre. I stopped by a café on the way to the Louvre for some delicious pain au chocolat. Walking into the Louvre courtyard to see the giant pyramids right in front of you is always an exciting moment. You feel like you’re walking into Dan Brown’s book The Da Vinci Code. Because I was by myself, I kept asking people (in French, English, and Spanish) to take pictures of me after offering to take pictures of them. Although I don’t love being around other tourists when I travel, I do love meeting tourists who are as nice as the one’s I met today. I spent almost 4 hours in the Louvre looking at Egyptian artifacts, Greek sculptures, and Spanish, Italian, and French paintings. I don’t know why I love art museums as much as I do.
After the Louvre, I spent a few hours walking around the tourist and non-tourist parts of the area surrounding the museum. There is always something new to discover around every corner in Paris—a gorgeous church, a historic building, an outdoor market.
After spending some time getting lost in the streets of Paris, I went to Longchamp to buy my purse. I am getting a little more confident with my French as the days pass. Longchamp was busy, so I decided to be bold and ask one of the sales people to help me. I said, “Excusez-moi, parlez-vous l’anglais?” to which she responded a hesitant, “Une petite peau.” I decided it would be easier to speak French, so I showed her the bag I wanted, but asked for a smaller size and a different color—all in French. She then spoke to me as if I was fluent in French. I didn’t understand most of what she said, but I had fun trying! Paris, je t'aime.
Bonne nuit et a bientot!
Au revoir California, Bonjour Paris!
Last Monday, I started my journey from San Francisco to Spain (with a few stops along the way). I spent last weekend saying goodbye to the people I will miss and think about every day. Saturday night I said goodbye to the Lauck’s at our bbq, Sunday I said goodbye to my grandparents at their annual block party, and Sunday night I said goodbye to Remi, Sarah, Grace, Janet, and Anna. Finally, Monday, I said goodbye to my family at the airport. Luckily, Mom, Dad, and Jeff always know how to make me smile. At the airport, they must have said goodbye (waving, smiling, and making funny faces) at least 50 times moving from one side of the security line to the other to make sure I saw them. Saying goodbye was as it always is—ultimately sad, but the excitement always seems to overshadow the gloom. I said goodbye, but it was more of a “be seeing you” kind of goodbye. I am also lucky to be greeted in Europe by good friends that feel like family—Clo in Paris, the Caruso’s in Italy, and Jesús in Madrid.
I arrived in Paris via London on Monday evening and was so happy that I actually made it to Clo’s apartment. I had to ask the taxi driver (in French) to take me to her apartment. Now, my French is barely comprehensible, so saying "Bonjour, pouvais-vous m’amener a cette adresse s’il vous plait?" correctly was no small task. I must have asked the question somewhat correctly because I arrived in Paris about an hour later at Clo’s place. The apartment is just outside of the Paris city line (Paris is one street over) in a non-touristy part of town. There is a school next door, a pharmacy on the corner, a market on the other corner, and a boulangerie not far. That night we were both exhausted from flying, so after a mozzarella and tomato/croque monsieur dinner, we went to sleep…and woke a few hours later at 5:00am. I hate being jetlagged.
DAY 1 EN PARIS
My first day in Paris was the perfect “lazy day.” I spent the morning reading, listening to the fire truck test sirens that are sound every first Wednesday of the month, and eating a typical French breakfast—croissant and pain au chocolat. That afternoon, Clo and I walked around the Galeries de Lafayette—a ridiculously luxurious shopping mall filled with make-up, jewelry, and purses that make you wish that, just for your week in Paris, you were a millionaire. I fell in love with a Longchamp purse—one that is simple, fashionable, and practical all at once. This bag is beautiful and almost every girl in Paris has one. I am excited to say that I finally bought one today with the money my Grandma Gloria and Grandpa Pat gave me to spend in Europe.
After walking around the Galeries, we went to Ladurée (http://www.laduree.fr/) to buy macarons. These are no normal macaroons—they taste like heaven and I’m quite sure they were made by God himself. These specific macaroons are typically Parisian—all the locals know that macaroons from Ladurée are the best you will ever find and they are only in Paris. They are expensive and there are many different flavors. I bought 6 different flavors, including Framboise (raspberry), Citron (lemon), Vanille (vanilla), Caramel á la fleure de sel (caramel with salted butter), Cassis violette (blackcurrant violet), and Fleur d’orange (Orange blossom). We brought our macaroons to the Café du Capucine in the quartier de l’Opera near the famous Opera house in Paris where we sat down for a cup of coffee that came with a strawberry meringue and a piece of chocolate.
We then met Clo’s boyfriend Daniel at his school and went back to his apartment for an evening of good food (appetizers—bread and paté & dinner—salmon pasta) and good (mostly French) conversation with Daniel’s roommates in which I tried to understand but struggled to participate in.
It was a great first day en Paris and I can't wait for more adventures to come.
I arrived in Paris via London on Monday evening and was so happy that I actually made it to Clo’s apartment. I had to ask the taxi driver (in French) to take me to her apartment. Now, my French is barely comprehensible, so saying "Bonjour, pouvais-vous m’amener a cette adresse s’il vous plait?" correctly was no small task. I must have asked the question somewhat correctly because I arrived in Paris about an hour later at Clo’s place. The apartment is just outside of the Paris city line (Paris is one street over) in a non-touristy part of town. There is a school next door, a pharmacy on the corner, a market on the other corner, and a boulangerie not far. That night we were both exhausted from flying, so after a mozzarella and tomato/croque monsieur dinner, we went to sleep…and woke a few hours later at 5:00am. I hate being jetlagged.
DAY 1 EN PARIS
My first day in Paris was the perfect “lazy day.” I spent the morning reading, listening to the fire truck test sirens that are sound every first Wednesday of the month, and eating a typical French breakfast—croissant and pain au chocolat. That afternoon, Clo and I walked around the Galeries de Lafayette—a ridiculously luxurious shopping mall filled with make-up, jewelry, and purses that make you wish that, just for your week in Paris, you were a millionaire. I fell in love with a Longchamp purse—one that is simple, fashionable, and practical all at once. This bag is beautiful and almost every girl in Paris has one. I am excited to say that I finally bought one today with the money my Grandma Gloria and Grandpa Pat gave me to spend in Europe.
After walking around the Galeries, we went to Ladurée (http://www.laduree.fr/) to buy macarons. These are no normal macaroons—they taste like heaven and I’m quite sure they were made by God himself. These specific macaroons are typically Parisian—all the locals know that macaroons from Ladurée are the best you will ever find and they are only in Paris. They are expensive and there are many different flavors. I bought 6 different flavors, including Framboise (raspberry), Citron (lemon), Vanille (vanilla), Caramel á la fleure de sel (caramel with salted butter), Cassis violette (blackcurrant violet), and Fleur d’orange (Orange blossom). We brought our macaroons to the Café du Capucine in the quartier de l’Opera near the famous Opera house in Paris where we sat down for a cup of coffee that came with a strawberry meringue and a piece of chocolate.
We then met Clo’s boyfriend Daniel at his school and went back to his apartment for an evening of good food (appetizers—bread and paté & dinner—salmon pasta) and good (mostly French) conversation with Daniel’s roommates in which I tried to understand but struggled to participate in.
It was a great first day en Paris and I can't wait for more adventures to come.
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About Me
- Kel
- I am 28 years old and learning to live my life with the daily struggles of mental illness. My illnesses are a significant part of my life, but they are not all that I am. I am a teacher, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend, too. I'm starting this blog to chronicle my passions, goals, challenges and victories. I want to remind myself that I have come through many seemingly impossible situations, and I will continue to fights for the experiences like the ones I write about in this blog.