Sleep tight, Don’t let the bed bugs bite

SoIt (think SoCal but the Italy version) is the land of blue water, ruins, and bed bugs. I know you’re all dying to hear why, but real quick let me talk about the Jewish Ghetto.

If we reference back a few weeks to the naïve, American tourist days of my life, we will recall a story of my friends and I venturing to the Jewish Ghetto and getting tricked into paying 10 euro for three pieces of gnocchi; not a high point in my career. I vowed never to eat in the area again. Today though, Katie and I conquered our fears. We got up, marched right over to that Jewish Ghetto for lunch, and went into an amazing looking burger place we had scoped out previously. I got a veggie burger with barbecue sauce and guacamole and the Jewish Ghetto and I have officially made peace. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Okay, so SoIt…

On Tuesday we started the day early, leaving the hotel at 7 and making our way to Herculaneum. Herculaneum would have been cooler if it wasn’t raining the whole time. We saw enough houses and shops to be able to recreate the scene on Sims, and the coolest part was seeing a bunch of uncovered skeletons still just hanging out in the dirt. It was eerie, probably due mostly in part to the rain.

We got back on the bus just after noon to head over to the ruins of Pompeii, which was absolutely incredible. We saw a couple of theaters that were still in well enough shape that we could climb all over them, and a few different temples as well. For lunch they forced us to eat in the walls of the ruins (literally equivalent to seeing a ton of good food on the streets of Chicago but being forced to eat the candy in the Sears Tower gift shop) but we were so excited to walk around the area we didn’t mind the below par paninis. My favorite part was seeing the Villa of Mysteries. It was a bit of a hike away from the main forum and temples, but well worth it. The colors were vibrant and bright, and the art was some of the best preserved. Unfortunately the guards kicked us out at ten minutes after closing time (literally had to kick us out) and we got back on the bus to go to the hotel for the night.

Our hotel in Pompei was like the Albergo del Sole’s well-dressed, rich aunt. There was a slight resemblance to our familiar homey hotel, but the colors were all strait from the pastel pallet, the stairs spiraled around like you would imagine in a castle, and employees were constantly giving us free apples and hard candies. We ate our first dinner there, a five course meal of bruschetta, pasta with vegetables, salad, fish and potatoes, and tiramisu and passed out straight away from a combination of food coma and exhaustion.

The next day we made our way down the Amalfi drive, stopping for the day about half way at the coast near the Cathedral of Amalfi. Everything about the town was perfect. People were lying out on the beach, even in November, and the whole vibe made it feel like we were on a summer time trip. We toured through the Cathedral and made our way around the roads and beaches. Amalfi apparently is known for having amazing limoncello, so we stopped into a cute store in the town that specialized in limoncello products. So was the store limited solely to the limoncello drink? Absolutely not. We could buy limoncello soap, limoncello cups, limoncello candles, you name it. Anything limoncello you could dream of. The owner kept feeding us different limoncello based chocolates he sold, and honestly I probably ate more chocolate than I actually bought in the store. The best were the malted milk balls filled inside with liquid limoncello. Literally never going to be able to find those anywhere else.

Thursday we hit up Paestum (I’m trying to make it sound more fun than it was) and meandered once more through a museum of paintings and sculptures and pots. The better half of the day was when we went to walk around the ruins; fresh air is a lifesaver. Paestum was very different from the other places we had been because there were no gates and ropes and we could climb all over the place. We took a whole photo-shoots worth of pictures on top of random rocks. I’ve also been doing this thing where I throw up peace signs excessively because I associate them with America I guess. So there’s a lot of that.

On Friday we spent the day in Capri! We took the boat out to the island early in the morning and immediately fell in love with the clear blue water. Literally blue like a Crayola crayon color. We took a personal boat tour around the island, stopping to see different grottos along the way and then stopped at the blue grotto to go inside. The trip into the blue grotto wasn’t what I was expecting at all. They transferred us from our big boat into three person row boats and had us lie down on top of each other sardine style. Then as we approached the enterence, the rower grabbed on to a chain attached to the inside, layed on top of our already human sandwich, and pulled us through in the break of the waves. The inside was lit up electric blue and was so different from anything I’ve ever seen. Video to come though of us all screaming as we go into the grotto and the rower telling us to stop screaming and look at the water. It’s priceless. We hiked up from the sea to the town of Capri, which was filled with high end shops but had a great view. We then decided we had had enough hiking for the day and took the bus farther up the mountain to Anacapri, which is more of a touristy area. We wandered into the first sandal shop we saw, since Capri is known for their handmade sandals, to see what all the fuss was about. There were more shoes than in Beyoncé’s closet and the owner was so nice, talking to us about his business and making the shoes.

The day was done, and the day was perfect. But wait. There’s more. Tired, seasick, and exhausted, we poured into the hotel at 7 for dinner ready to just cut our losses on the food and go to bed. I remember thinking, “I would choose sleep over any dinner in the world right now, except gnocchi”. So we’re sitting down, sleeping on our bread plates, downing our caprese appetizers like quick next course before I pass out, and the waiter comes out with big hot steaming plates of GNOCCHI! Cheers erupted from the tables, kid you not. I think I cried a tear of happiness. It was the best ending to the best day, and also I might have a gnocchi addiction when I return to the States.

Saturday rolled around and we were off to Naples. Naples is exactly how I imagined it; smelly and full of trash. It’s not Naples, Florida by any means. But they have a good archaeological museum and the restaurant from Eat, Pray, Love is there somewhere so clearly a trip destination. The museum was full of familiar statues and art, but after a solid five hours we were ready for lunch. We didn’t have enough time for the restaurant (bummer) but Naples is apparently known for their pizza sauce so we stopped to get pizza elsewhere and it was great. I would have eaten 11 if I had had the capacity for it. We left Naples after that to go to the ever exciting cave of the Sybil in Cuma, which is from the story of Aeneid in mythology. It was literally one long passageway to nothing, a bird was stuck in the cave flying around wildly which was entertaining, and then the archaeology professor told us all that there’s no way it was ever used as a cave. So there was that. Dreams crushed. Sorry Aeneas.

And with that we’re back at the Albergo. It was super sad leaving the Hotel Amleto, that was, it was sad until I looked down at my legs and realized they were covered in bed bug bites. Actually covered. I kept looking; bed bug bites on my shoulders, bed bug bites on my back, bed bug bites on my neck and chin, bed bug bites on my hands and feet, bed bug bite in the middle of my stomach. It was a mess. Luckily, my inner camp counselor took control of the situation (the most useful job in this world, I swear). The ordeal is fine for now, but I’ll actually let you know if I still look diseased in a couple of weeks. On a side note, our room also suffocates people in the scent of rubbing alcohol now since that apparently kills eggs.

The cowcat is fine incase anyone was wondering. Last night Katie and the cowcat and I all watched a movie together, but actually the only reason the cowcat was invited was because he took my chair and is too large to be moved. We’re working on a compromise for the future. Peace and love, I need to go look up foods to eat in Paris next weekend. Ciao ❤

GRΣΣK LIFΣ

The international adventures just got more international. Thessaloniki, Greece has made my stomach reevaluate its capacity and I’m completely fine with it. Let me tell you about the last few days real quick.

Flying Ryan Air was definitely an experience this weekend all on its own. The first wave of confusion hit when they opened the gate and people started sprinting to the plane. I kid you not, actual Olympic sprinter material here (no pun intended with the Olympics reference, I swear). Confused and trampled on, we tried to figure out what was going on. Apparently, since there’s no assigned seating on Ryan Air, travelers find it necessary to claim seats like their lives depend on it (please note NO ONE sprints to planes while flying Southwest in America; also unassigned seating). More confusion followed when:

1. The seats were bright highlighter yellow
2. The stewardesses were featured in a “Ryan Air Beach Calendar 2014” which was advertised for sale on the plane
3. No one asked anyone to turn their electronics off because no one cared
4. A recording of a trumpet playing the same tune they play at horse racing tracks before a race was played upon landing
5. Everyone started clapping once we touched down.

Europe discount flights are weird.

Anyway, we made our way over to the center of Thessaloniki to our hotel, Hotel Alexandria. This hotel was a spitting image of the Albergo del Sole, and we felt at home immediately, until we saw the bathroom. Whoever designed the bathrooms in this hotel must have done so after having a few too many glasses of wine. The entire bathroom was a shower. The whole thing. You opened a door and stepped into one, big, tile-covered shower, with a drain in the middle of the floor. Then, casually in this large shower room, there was also a toilet and a sink. So when we showered everything in the bathroom got wet. Definitely a design flaw; come on Greece, pull yourself together.

We decided to walk down the street by the sea a couple miles from our hotel to find lunch and stopped dead in our tracks, mouths watering, in front of a gyro place from heaven, Rina’s. My gyro stuffed with freshly grilled peppers, tomato, lettuce, onion, tzatziki sauce, and french fries (they LOVE french fries in Greece) was super cheap (yay poor economy!) and looked good enough to be photographed for promotional ads. And it tasted better than it looked. To this moment it’s the best thing I ate while in Greece.

We continued our walk down the sea wall, ran into the White Tower (in the same manor we ran into il Duomo in Florence), and ended up in front of a docked, Jamaican- themed boat serving as a bar. “One Love” was inscribed on the top of it and the Greek flag fit flawlessly with the tropical vibe. We laughed for about five seconds about it, like “what if we actually got on”, then did actually get one because we’re in Thessaloniki so why not? The boat took off onto the sea, and we watched the sunset and got a spectacular view of the entire town of Thessaloniki while sipping our strawberry daquaris and laughing about how everyone who told us to not go to Greece because it’s scary and the economy sucks is WRONG.

For dinner we found our way into an area just off of the main square with many restaurants and enough outdoor seating for the entire population. We had our first run in with gypsy children; a little girl with an accordion chose to harass me by chasing me around, pulling at my skirt while I screamed for Katie until the restaurant owner shooed her off the property. We sat down at a restaurant FAR FAR away from the gypsy child where they were playing live Greek music, and when they put bread on the table it was free. Thank the heavens. We ordered five different appetizers (fried zucchini chips with tzatziki, baked feta with tomatoes, grape leaves, another type of breaded feta and vegetable thing, and pork for the meat-eaters) to split between Katie, Carole, Megan, Gina, and I, and also a huge Greek salad (typical) for the middle of the table as well. We cried of happiness. The waitress recommended us a dessert even after we were too full to move, but of course it was dessert so whatever we got it anyways. It was vanilla ice cream (not gelato. There’s definitely a difference, people) with a soft cookie-dough like batter under it that I would have eaten eight more times and we left super happy campers thanks again to the cheap-ness. Go Greece Go.

On Saturday we got up and made our way to the cooking lab for our Eat and Walk tour of Thessaloniki. Magda, the woman leading our tour, greeted us like we were her best friends from college and had a table set like it was her very own kitchen for us. We started off with a traditional Greek breakfast with a sweet cinnamon pastry, a feta cheese pastry, and koulóuria (circle sesame bread rings). We talked about places we would be walking over Greek coffee, then flipped our cups over to dry and let Magda read our fortunes from the coffee stains, which were scary accurate.

We walked through the markets, tasting different sesame breads with honey paste, olives, and powdered sugar/gummy desserts. We stopped at one of Magda’s favorite bakeries where the owner makes all of her own cheeses and breads and ate plates of six different cheeses and pumpkin roll desserts. Heaven. Still heaven. We worked our way over to a restaurant where we ate even more food (I’m not even going to go into detail) and a lot of ouzo. After another walk past more historical buildings, we ended up at another restaurant for the big finale lunch: 12-15 different Greek dishes, enough food that I didn’t have to eat for the rest of the trip, and more time to tell stories about our awkwardness in Greece to Magda (let me know if you want the whole story of how we pretended we were Arabic speaking Canadians).

We went to the ruins, the churches, blah blah touristy things, and finished our afternoon with another round of watching the sunset and Greek coffee at a café right on the sea front. We flipped our cups to read our fortunes again and made a complete mess. Representing America. At night we went out to an area Magda pointed out as a very young area with Christmas lights lining the tops of the street and lots of music and people. We drank our weight in sangria and ranted for hours about how much we loved Thessaloniki to end the night perfectly.

Today we woke up to the sad reality of leaving. Megan was really concerned we hadn’t tried “boxed-lava” (who let this girl in Greece?) so we ran around the streets to find it. We got laughed at a lot because we’re cliché, but the taste was worth it once we found it. Don’t kill me dad, but yes, we went to Starbucks before the airport. There isn’t enough Greek coffee in the world to make up for the empty space in my heart for Starbucks. Katie and my cups were written out to “Helly and Keit” so we’ll be going by those names now, and while we were sitting outside the Starbucks worker wanted to come out and take our picture with our drinks; not sure if this was because we’re drop dead gorgeous models or because we’re weird Americans and they want pictures of diversity but look out for our faces representing Thessaloniki either way.

I’m missing Thessaloniki already, especially the Greek yogurt. I’m in the process of desperately trying to repack before we leave for five days in Southern Italy on Tuesday. Pictures of all the delicious food in Greece coming soon (I know. The food is obsessive). Miss you all, go Irish (that win was nerve-racking), and Yamas.

That time I almost gave up on being a vegetarian

I promise I have the intentions to blog a lot more than I do, but time has actually been flying and here we are again on Sunday with me trying to desperately catch up.

I’m going backwards and starting with today first. While this day has seemed super far away since we planned it, today we ventured to a town just outside of Cassino called Pignataro Interamna and to the casa di Zia Lillina. Gina’s aunt is a little old lady with a cute gray bun on her head, adorable little glasses, and the cutest home ever. And that’s where we went today.

Arriving in Cassino was residential, but not scary residential like Bologna was. Apparently Taxis don’t run on Sundays though, so we had to call a number given to us at the train station to get a ride to the house. After teamwork stuttering in Italian on the phone to the driver, he managed to figure out we needed him to pick us up at the station. Five minutes later an old, black Cadillac with a rusted taxi sign up top and two rows of passenger seats (weird) pulls up to take us to Zia Lillina’s house. Was it sketchy? Yes. Did we have an option? Probably. Did we just get in anyways in hopes of getting to the house? Definitely. The driver drove like a mad man. I thought we were going to die multiple times throughout the drive.

To put into perspective how small Pignataro Interamna is, when the cab arrived in the town and rolled down a window to ask for help finding the street we were looking for, the resident was able to identify where we were going not based on the address but based on the last name. Zia Lillina was thrilled to see us like we were her own children. So thrilled she actually hugged Katie first, thinking she was Gina. We were ushered in to her house and immediately asked, “So, you want to eat, right?”. How could we ever deny Zia Lillina? We sat down at the table to fresh bread and a bowl of olives from the garden in the back. I was already in love.

Zia Lillina speaks very little English. Definitely not full sentences. Given our lack of language proficiency, we were a little worried. Luckily, Gina’s Italian cousin who studied at Ole Miss came in to save the day.

The struggle came next when Megan and I tried to explain to Zia Lillina that we were vegetarians. Picture in your head the scene from “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” when Toula is explaining to her aunt that Ian doesn’t eat meat, to which she replies, “that’s okay, I’ll make lamb”. This was us. Zia Lillina brings out a type of cold meat sausage. We tell her we don’t eat meat. This sits okay with her for forty-five seconds, until Gina’s cousin explains that we don’t eat ALL types of meat. Not just the one. Zia Lillina wants to know if we eat chicken.

We reach a happy medium of pasta with olive oil and Parmesan cheese, which was absolutely amazing. As soon as we finished, she brought out a plate of different types of cheeses that I could have eaten multiple pounds of, and meatballs for the non-veg type that smelled so good I actually considered giving up on the vegetarian thing all together. Incase we weren’t full enough, Zia Lillina made us an amazing salad to follow. 

At this point we were all slouched in our chairs, full. But no no, this was not the end. The salad was cleared and fresh fruit was before us. The grapes were insanely sweet and we finished the entire bowl of apples and pears. One of Gina’s other aunts had come over to see us as well, and made us a cake made completely from scratch. Every part of it. Despite being full beyond words, we made room and went for the cake too. It was worth it. In the midst of entering food coma/sleep mode, Zia Lillina brought us strong, Italian coffee to keep us up and running. Such a gem.

We rolled our way out the front door to walk around the town a little before it got dark. It was so small and homey, and looked like such an ideal place to live. We wanted to stay with Zia Lillina forever. A couple of Gina’s relatives came over as well to say hi and talk a little (we only know so much Italian, folks) and after good conversation and necessary picture time with Zia Lillina, we made our way back to the train station to head home.

Conclusions I’ve made:

• Zia Lillina NEEDS to live at the hotel with us and cook all the time
• Sometimes being in an actual home feels way better than being in a hotel
• My stomach has reached a new capacity level

I’m in love with today. My stomach is even more in love with today.

Yesterday we went to Hadrian’s Villa and Villa D’Este for our FINAL SATURDAY LECTURES AND TOURS CLASS (imagine party horns being blown and balloons falling from the sky). Thankfully, they seemed to have saved the best day for last. Hadrian’s Villa is a residence area for emperors in the 2-8 centuries AD about forty-five minutes outside of Rome. Walking though, you can definitely imagine what the place was like in its prime. I’m almost positive there were dinner parties there on summer nights that would have made even Gatsby question himself.

The Villa d’Este was definitely a surprise. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t an entire series of gardens and fountains on a hill. It was another site they filmed part of the Lizzie McGuire movie at (checking that one off the list) and we took prime jumping pictures with fountains and towns and mountains in the background; an overall success.

The past weekend can be summed up with this: good food, good pictures, and good friends.

Other things that have happened this week that you missed:

• If you thought we were obnoxious Americans before, you need to know that we sang Party in the USA at Scholar’s karaoke night on Tuesday. Nothing else needs to be said about this.
• I’ve yet to find anything at Tony’s better than the penne alla vodka, mostly because I refuse to try anything but the penne alla vodka even though we eat there every single Friday
• I went into a Subway (I know. I know. Let me be) and music played included: Drop it Like it’s Hot by Snoop Dogg (the original. Not the radio/clean version), Kid Cudi’s Erase Me, and rounded off with Lamborghini Mercy. What kind of country is this?
• I had pumpkin ravioli on Thursday. It doesn’t even look like fall here and the fall food is better than in the U.S.

That’s all I’ve got. Peace and love. You’ll hear from me again post Greece trip. I hope they have humus there. 

we’re NOT in America anymore…

We’ve started doing this thing, being here for a month now, where we compare everything to life in America—starting most sentences off with “In. Americuhhhh…”. For example, picture five girls out to dinner and we don’t get a free bread basket; “In. Americuhhh, bread would be free. There would be bread in our stomachs, water in our mouths, and it would all be FREE”. Now picture five girls trying to find breakfast food that isn’t fruit and pastries for breakfast; “In. Americuhhh, people understand the concept of a well. rounded. breakfast.” This is a look into our every day, constant conversation. I bet you wish you were here to partake in this with us, right?

Yesterday was another one of those bright and early tours that we love so much. We got onto a bus at 7 in the morning (aka the dead of night in Rome) and drove off to Tarquinia. We ended up a couple hours later at the Etruscan Necropolises of Cerveteri to look at Etruscan tombs underground. It was interesting to see how well preserved all these tombs were, and how some of the artwork is still so vivid after thousands of years. Our nice time outdoors was interrupted by another Etruscan museum. Dun dun dunnnnn. I actually would love to tour museums like this on my own time, but there are only so many hours you can look at a single sarcophagus. After many more hours of staring at sarcophagi and MORE ETRUSCAN POTS (refer to two weekends ago when we spent five hours in the Etruscan pot museum), we were finally free for lunch. We got awful sandwiches that we ate anyways in our state of hunger and got back on the bus to drive down to the beach.

The beach made up for the hours I thought I would have to eat my own arm in the museums. It was absolutely gorgeous on the coast of Italy. We took artsy pictures on the rocks and took trillions more landscape pictures before getting back on the bus for one last stop. Final stretch. We stopped at the Soprintendenza Archeologica Dell’etruria Meridionale to see a different type of burial area. At this place, we could go into any of the 3000 some tombs that had been opened up. Being in them was like being in little cement rooms underground, but with many things that look like beds lining the walls where people were buried. I felt like Indiana Jones the entire time. There’s probably a picture of me acting like that too. Also there were tons of wild (?) cats there. There are just as many pictures of the cats as there are of this tomb place on my camera.

By the time we got back to the hotel, it was 6 o’clock and despite being exhausted we decided to rally—our favorite way to do things. So we made a quick turn around, changed, and headed out to the Jewish Ghetto for dinner. We had heard people rave about the food there, and were looking to be adventurous after our day our tomb exploring. We picked a place called Nonna Betta that had trip advisor logos all over it (typical) and asked for a table. They put us in a weird basement by ourselves. It’s fine. We don’t order water because we’re smart Americans who have learned that you should bring your own water bottles to restaurants but they bring us bread; the ultimate trap. Starving, four of us order the gnocchi, because the waiter actually recommended to us, “If I was hungry, I would want a big plate of gnocchi”, and hungry summed up my life. However, we get our dishes, and there are three pieces of gnocchi in a little dish. Three pieces. It was the saddest thing ever. We ate dinner in seven minutes tops, complained to the waiter, were told the chef gave us “kids portions” (that isn’t a thing in Italy), and then were reminded that the bread would cost us 9 euro. We paid our bill and left in rage. We’re literally going to continue getting ripped off everywhere because we’re female college students from America and we need to cope with that I guess. Gelato solves everything though.

Despite it all, we went out to Scholar’s to watch the first half of the Notre Dame game. This game for me is probably more exciting than Christmas. I was desperately homesick to be there, but the win definitely lessened the pain.

Instead of traveling today we decided to stay in Rome and spend the day around the area. We’re headed back to the Trevi Fountain tonight to take cute pictures (but mostly to look for Italian pop stars). I’ll let you all know how that works out for me.

And then we ended up in Bologna…

I just want to make a quick note before I tell you all about my weekend at Friday night. Tony’s is the greatest restaurant I’ve ever eaten at, and on Friday my life changed forever. I had penne alla vodka. I can’t compare it to anything else I’ve ever had in my entire life. It was life-changing, and I won’t be eating anything besides it the rest of the time I’m in Rome.

Also a quick gelato flavor update: watermelon, dark chocolate, Duplo, coffee, hazelnut, chocolate chip, mango and strawberry. They’re all still perfect.

Yesterday was actually a whirlwind. An 18 hour whirlwind. There’s even a moral at the end of this one.

6:00 AM in Italy is the equivalent to 4:00 AM in any place in America. The time when people have left the bars, gone home, no cars are on the road, and everything is closed. This is the time we were running down the streets looking for a taxi to take five people to the train station to catch our 6:30 AM train to Venice. It’s harder than you think, and no matter how sneaky you are and how much Italian you pretend to not understand, the cab drivers with four seats WILL NOT let you squeeze five people in. We finally found one, and after a little confusion in convincing the cab driver we were headed to the train station and not the airport, we were on our way.

Four hours later we were walking out of a station in Venice and looking out to the gorgeous canal. It was like being in a place created by Walt Disney himself. We realized we were a little time crunched (only giving ourselves about 5 and a half hours to do all of Venice), so we bought a map called “How to do Venice in a day” and cut it in thirds. Of the six recommended sites, four were different churches and the other two were the gondolas and the Piazza di San Marco. Easy decision. We headed towards the piazza.

Four different things seemed to dominate Venice for the most part: elaborate masks, hand-blown glass, graffiti, and canals. To get from the train station to the other end of the city where the Basilica di San Marco was, we crossed over roughly 15 different bridges over canals. It took us nearly forty-five minutes to cross the city, but it was well worth it. The piazza was enormous and filled with an overwhelming amount of things to take pictures of. We took all of our touristy pictures, saw the Basilica, and referred back to our map. A shining light was calling from the gondolas, a mere hundred feet away. We opted for the 45-minute ride and waited on the dock, where our gondola rower/tour guide showed up.

I had been joking all week that I would be tipping gondolas in Venice, but after getting in one it actually felt like we could overturn at any minute. I have no idea how the man rowing was able to stand up on the back the whole time. The ride was incredible, and the best way to see Venice with the short amount of time we had given ourselves. He didn’t sing to us (bummer), but he did point out a ton of different buildings and churches on the way.

We decided to spend our remaining couple hours taking our time through Venice rather than rushing around to see the other things on the tourist map. We made our way into a couple of glass shops, Meg actually bought a mask, and continued the tradition by getting cappuccinos.

While our original plan for the day was to leave Venice in the afternoon and head to Milan, our BFF Aldo at the front desk had convinced us otherwise, making it sound like Milan was an awful idea and that we would have SO MUCH MORE FUN in Bologna. Not knowing anything, we decided to trust the guy who actually lives in Italy and head to Bologna around 3 in the afternoon. A short hour and a half later, we were dropped off at the Bologna Centrale station, which looked identical to one you would find somewhere in the city weirdly enough. We actually walked out of the station and into a weird, modernish, city-type area. The streets made no sense, our map was confusing, and within 15 minutes we were lost in a residential area where NO ONE spoke any English. After about an hour of wandering around like lost puppies, we accepted defeat and headed back to the train station to go back to Rome.

The woman at the front desk though informed us that our tickets were for the 9 o’clock PM train, and that because we booked through an agency we couldn’t get on an earlier one. This was the light from heaven offering us a second chance at Bologna. We regrouped in a huddle (actually) and reentered the town of Bologna like we weren’t just near tears on the streets thirty minutes before. A cab driver pointed us in the direction of Piazza Maggiore (we literally were two streets right of where we wanted to go the entire time) and we made it safely to the central area of bologna, filled with shopping and food.

For dinner we ate at a completely authentic restaurant and had homemade pastas and sauces, which really helped to make up for our general memory of Bologna because it was amazing. We left Bologna feeling like new women; if we could make it through an afternoon in the scariest part of Italy (that may be an exaggeration), we could do anything.

The moral of the story today is, never trust the man at the front desk. He’ll act like he’s your friend, and then send you to Bologna. It was like someone wanting to tour all the great places in the United States and booking a train ticket to Cincinnati.  We’ll be reevaluating next time he tries to give us advice, but no regrets.

Overall we’ve had another successful weekend in Italy. We’ve conquered 4 different cities in 17 days and it’s only the beginning.

Give me bread, or give me death

Thus far my blog has been full of touristy observations and adventures, bragging about gelato, and general perks of Italy. I’m obsessed with the pasta, cheap European flights, restaurant service, and how much everyone loves American study abroad students (so much free wine). There are tons of things I miss from home though, too. I’ve composed a top six list:

• College football. I just went from an undefeated season where I followed every single team and watched multiple games a day, to barely knowing what time the Irish are playing on Saturday.
• My dog. As cute and fun as this hotel cat is (it’s not cute or fun AT ALL), I want my dog back. Also, in Italy, you can take your dogs into the stores and shop with your dog, which is my only dream in life. Fergs and I would be a dynamic shopping duo.
• Starbucks/Waddicks. Sad but true. Starbucks is what I refer to constantly as “social sipping”, which is when you get the larger size coffee because you like to hold it in your hands and walk around with it and it’s a good way to break a conversation by taking another drink to avoid a question or topic. Here, people choose to down their espresso/cappuccino/etc. while standing at a counter like were all constantly in a hurry even though we’re not.
• Reasonably priced french fries. You don’t understand how it feels to look at a menu with your mouth watering for fries and seeing them listed for like 8 euro, not even dollars, for the smallest plate ever. I want dollar menu fries.
• The value of the US dollar. Conversion rates should NOT apply to broke college students. It’s cruel. The only thing worse than over priced appetizers is when you realize you need to multiply the price of your overpriced appetizer by 1.4.
• Free. Bread. Italian restaurants in America have got it all wrong. They rarely give you bread here when you eat out, and when they do it’s all a TRAP because it ends up on your bill as a charge. Also, free water. They make you pay ridiculous amounts for these classy, glass bottles of water that are honestly probably just reusable and filled up by tap, but if you actually ask for straight tap water to not get charged they all just act like they don’t know what you’re saying. It’s a rough life.

Other contenders for the top 6 list included 3G data, sushi, game day on campus, luna bars, decent wifi, and my moccasin shoes I left at home. Mom and Dad, I promise you’re like top twenty.

Tomorrow we’re off to Venice. I found a place online called Alaska Gelateria that introduces new flavors like asparagus and ginger and artichoke. Pictures of the actual gelato and people’s initial reactions to the taste to come. Miss you all, ciao for now.

Rain Rain Go Away…

It’s been a long and eventful weekend full of highs, lows, but mostly rain.

On Saturday we got up bright and early but actually it was just dark and early because there was a massive thunderstorm outside of our window. Despite the rain, we grabbed our umbrellas (hazard to our safety with the storms probably in retrospect) and headed to Villa Giulia and Villa Borghese for tours. We hiked a million miles all up hill in the pouring rain (probably three or four miles on the flat streets; not exaggerating on the rain though) to the Museo Nazionale Etrustico. I actually fulfilled my dream of becoming a famous Italian celebrity because the local news crew was there filming us as we walked through a thrilling new exhibit (not even sure if eight pieces of paper count as an exhibit) of basically paper snowflakes. Like, actually a man used what looked like the long pieces of paper you lay on at the doctors office and an x-acto knife and made designs similar to paper snowflakes with a little more structure (for example, there was a tree and angel wings in the corner I was deeply pondering). Basically, look for me on the 10 o’clock news and I’ll be signing autographs once I’m home in the States.

The collection of Etruscan art was impressive, but also long. You can only look at so many pots, let alone five hours worth of pots. All in all though I enjoyed seeing the progression of resources they used and how well different materials have held up over time.

Emphasis on the five hours we looked at pots, by the time it was two o’clock we were falling over with hunger and reaching a point of desperation as the tour ended and we left to go find lunch. I kid you not everyone, we walked into a Hard Rock Café. Go ahead and read that again if you want. The images of french-fries had us mesmerized, and we somehow found ourselves clawing to get it. Don’t worry, it was a 45-minute wait and we were too hungry to give it a second thought, but I’ve been in Rome not even two weeks and that almost happened.

Instead we settled for pizza another ten minutes down the road and more gelato from Giolitti (aka heaven on earth) once we got closer back to the hotel.

While most called it an early night once we decided we would be catching the 9:30 train to Florence the next morning, I just couldn’t let myself sleep when I knew my team was playing off in Texas. From 1:30 to 3:45 in the morning I was glued to my ESPN gamecast live feed for the first half of the game (and not being able to get the game playing on my computer was heartbreaking). I fell asleep for about an hour, but I must have a sixth sense for Notre Dame football because somehow I managed to wake up with a few minutes left in the game just in time to see the Irish secure the win so I could rest peacefully for the next two hours. No regrets.

Florence was absolutely amazing. Amazing. Also let me say this; being able to navigate the L system in Chicago makes me feel like a rock star. Being able to figure out how to barely get on a train to Florence and not really know exactly what’s going on because my platform says “heading towards Milan” but still ending up in the right place…that was like being on top of the entire world. There’s really nothing I can’t handle now I don’t think.  This is the over-confident American in Europe taking over again.

Things I learned today:

• The red line in Chicago and Trenitalia have borderline NOTHING in common.
• Florence looks bigger on a map.
• I need to reconsider my actions each and every time I opt to leave my umbrella at the hotel.

Despite what we all thought would happen, we actually made it to Roma Termini early this morning to get on the train to Florence for the day. Buying the seats was a little confusing (we all ended up in different train cars) and the fact that the station doesn’t tell you what platform your train will be at until 10 minutes before it leaves was a little stressful, but we successfully made our first trip away from Rome.

We decided that the number one thing we wanted to see in Florence was the David sculpture by Michelangelo. After a lot of debate as to weather the real one was going to be in the square or in the Galleria dell’Accademia, we decided to just check out both. We actually stumbled into a tour option at the museum (not kidding, walked into them), which ended up being the best thing to happen because we learned a ton about the way Michelangelo sculpted his masterpieces. The museum was filled with five or six of his actually unfinished statues because he just didn’t get around to finishing them.

Seeing David literally made all of our jaws drop. They didn’t allow pictures in the museum, but even if I could have taken a photo I know it just wouldn’t have done it justice. David looked like he would be able to come to life at any minute and walk away.

Next we decided we were going to trek to the Florence Cathedral (Il Duomo), which took approximately 6 minutes, and that was the moment we realized how small Florence was. The replica of the David sculpture was located closer to that, which was really just nothing after seeing the real thing though. There will be a picture of us looking unimpressed with the replica to come.

We took tons of tourisy pictures with the Ponte Vecchio bridge in the background, but walking on the actual bridge was really too much gold to handle. Also, I’m obsessed with the smell of leather that seems to just waft around Florence.

So we’re back in one piece, and actually have come to a general consensus that this has been the best day in Italy yet. I’m still not understanding the whole you-have-to-go-to-classes-because-you’re-not-on-vacation concept, but I’m sure it’ll hit eventually. Or not. Stay tuned as we hit Venice next week. Gelato will be consumed, gondolas will be flipped. Kidding about the second part. Ciao everyone!

XOXO, Gossip Girl

I’m going to start off by saying this: there is no way to look cute while eating a Panini. Absolutely no way at all. Especially when they heat them up so the mozzarella is melting all over the place. I’m actually a mess while eating out in America, so considering I eat out on a daily basis it’s worse here. I promise I’ll work on this before coming home.

So today we explored the famers market type thing in Campo di Fiori that sets up every morning until two in the afternoon. There was amazing pastas and sauces, fruit, vegetables, fruit, scarves, fruit, jewelry, and fruit. I’m obsessed. We’re finally starting to not look like confused Americans when we wander around places, and instead a little more like overly confident Americans with little knowledge of a couple piazzas. But don’t ask us for any directions, street names, or restaurant recommendations.

We sat down and figured out our travel plans, which is actually making me feel a lot like Blair Waldorf. October has been declared “Italy Month”, starting this Sunday when we make our way to Florence! We’re headed to Venice and Milan the weekend after that, and you’ll all know this because I’ll be in taking 800 pictures of me in a gondola. I’m not exaggerating. Since Milan is the fashion capital, I’ll probably be able to afford absolutely nothing but hit me up if you want a post card! On the 20^th of October we’re going to be spending the day wine tasting in Tuscany, which I’m actually the most excited for.

Now here comes the part where I’m actually just a character in Gossip Girl, and it’s called the month of November. Mid November we’ll be bearing the six AM pre-sunrise hour for our flight to PARIS! I don’t think anyone understands how badly I want to eat macaroons in front of the Eifel Tower. It’ll be just like gelato in front of the Colosseum but with a French twist. The weekend after we’re going to be in Barcelona, taking Spain by storm, and the weekend after I’ll be traveling somewhere TBD with my favorite humans Kristen and Megan for Thanksgiving. It’ll actually be the best Thanksgiving because it’s the break from classes but minus all the food I hate. Which is all Thanksgiving food.

Tonight we finally managed to find a super market. Ten days later. We made salads and got bread, pesto, and two euro wine and ate dinner in the hotel together, which was both adorable and the best thing ever for my body considering the amount of pasta I’ve consumed in the past week and a half. Katie and I actually also just got gelato at 1:30 in the morning casually fifty feet from the hotel, and I think that was the final assurance that I’m probably never leaving this place.

I’m missing a few things from home, but mostly Notre Dame Football. I’m currently (one day ahead of time) working on a way to get the game on my computer tomorrow so I can watch it at 2:30 in the morning. I’m totally alone in this action, but there’s time to sleep later. Go Irish!

Doin’ as the Romans do…but with a class schedule

It’s day three of classes and I’m slowly starting to come to terms with the reality that I’m actually not here to just eat a ton and go on tours (I’m also extremely aware that I start off most thoughts with a comment about food, but it’s practically unavoidable here). I actually barely remember how to be in school considering I haven’t taken a class in four and a half months.

Observations and Thoughts:

• An hour and a half is a really long time. It’s twice as long when Rome is outside the window next to you.
• I need to learn how to both learn how to open the doors here from the inside and differentiate between the library building and the offices building (the wooden doors I swear look the exact same).
• Why do Friday classes exist in the month of October?

Apart from the classroom being equivalent to a sauna, I actually really think I’m going to like my classes this semester. It’s very different than taking everything in the business school at Notre Dame, but it’s also a nice change.

My professor for Mythology is extremely entertaining, which I’m so appreciative of considering the class is at 8 AM on Monday mornings. The subject isn’t necessarily something I would have chosen to take if I had all the options in the world, but in class on Monday he somehow managed to relate it all to superman comics and then we actually watched a superman episode from way back when and I can handle that.

Art History was a great slap in the face that I’m in Rome and have professors who are actually from Italy. Her English is tough to understand, which makes it tough to hold on to what’s going on at times. The powerpoints that she uses as an aid are extremely to the point though, which helps a lot. It’s actually an interesting class, and relates heavily to mythology so it’s convenient that they build off of each other.

Western Civilization is another one of those classes where I’m constantly trying to figure out what the professor is trying to say. When he can tell we don’t understand a name or a term he writes in on the board, but his handwriting is actually worse than his English is its just not working out. Reading about the subject though is great. It goes by fast and is easy to take notes on, so hopefully that helps me this afternoon.

Christian Morality is really the greatest class of all. I actually only took the class because it would count as my second Theology credit at Notre Dame, but the subject matter is unbelievably drawing and the professor is even better than the material. He speaks English well, has a genuine sense of humor, and is a captivating speaker.

Another thing I’ve noticed is all of my class exams and midterms are written essay style. The classes are based on a paper, a presentation, and the two written exams, which is so different from Notre Dame when your life constantly depends on a multiple-choice exam where every answer choice seems right and you’re constantly in the internal debate of, “A…no actually B….but C would make sense in finance class so is it the same in accounting? Actually D really doesn’t look like a bad choice either if you look at it upside down…”. I’m way better at writing papers than I am at multiple-choice test taking so hopefully this is a blessing.

The best part of classes is when it’s 7, because that’s when my classes end on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday and that’s when we get picked up at the building to go out to dinner. On Monday we ate at this super trendy place just around the corner from the classroom building. It actually looks like someone picked it up out of Chicago and placed it in Rome. We started off with a bruschetta appetizer, followed by pasta alla pomodoro, salad, and chiambella for dessert, which is a type of thick, two-flavored cake that they slice from a donut like shape. That was a bad description but I promise it was amazing.

On Tuesday night we ate out at the same place we had our first meal in Rome seven days ago located right next to our hotel. This time around when had another great pasta (the name is escaping me), more salad (which weirdly you eat after the main meal), and a fluffy, yogurt/moose like dessert with raspberry sauce. It was one of those things I would never order off of a menu at home, but because we’re in Rome it looked great.

Tuesday after dinner we decided to go out for drinks to celebrate making it through two days of classes (that’s what life has come to) at this really quirky place that was exactly what Italian’s probably think America is like if they’ve never been there. Abba music was playing in the background, there was a strange collection of pop art on some of the walls, and on others there were signs you would find at your grandparent’s garage sale. Our favorite was one that said “American Motorcycles; Ride or Die”, but other standouts included “Pool open 24/7” (note there was no pool table there) and another picture with a motorcycle near a sign I’m almost positive said “Indiana” on it (taste of home?).  We’re also convinced the strange spiral staircase in the corner leads somewhere sketchy, but haven’t had the guts to check it out yet. Stay tuned. Also happy hour here goes until 10 o’clock at night. Side note.

Also a quick update on the cat that looks like a cow: he’s still around.

 

We’re off now to go to a club on a glass boat. Yep, you read that right. Ciao ❤

This is what dreamsssssss are made of

First things first, I’ve actually eaten gelato every single day I’ve been here. It’s become as natural to me as drinking coffee in the mornings; I need gelato to get through the day. I actually had a thought for a minute that I would make another blog dedicated just to my gelato addiction, but instead I’ll just talk about all the flavors I’ve had because I’ll be trying more than 150 before I come home. Chocolate, peanut butter, melon, lemon, mars, caramel cream, more lemon. And every single one was heaven.

On Friday I went to see two of the better known Roman landmarks, the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps. The Trevi fountain was way larger than the Lizzie McGuire movie let on. It wasn’t unreasonably crowded, but no Italian pop stars came up to me so I guess I’ll be making a couple more trips back there to fulfill my destiny of meeting Paolo and Isabella.

For dinner we went to a restaurant near the hotel called Miscellanea, and upon telling the waiters we were here studying abroad, they immediately took away our menus to be replaced with eight liters of wine. They first brought out a bruschetta dish with tomatoes, mozzarella, olives and mushroom, which was borderline life changing. I have such high bruschetta expectations now. They then brought out pasta in a creamy pesto sauce, and for dessert a type of tart with more wine (kid you not, it was called Sexy Wine. That was the name of the wine). We’ll be eating there often. I’ve also noticed, on the topic of wine, that it’s actually cheaper to drink wine here than water. Like if you’re out at dinner, you save money by getting the house wine and just saying no to the bottle of still water. I’m not complaining.

Yesterday we spent our day at the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill, and the Colosseum. The Roman Forum was one of the most amazing places I’ve ever seen. All of the columns and structures are just so old, and the fact that a ton of them are still standing after nearly 3000 years is just so telling of how well the Romans built everything. Also, it’s really not fair that even the street vender food in Rome is incredible. For lunch, we literally just stopped at the first street vender we saw and ended up with A ++++ paninis with fresh mozzarella and tomato; not your average Chicago style hotdog vender. We got gelato as well because nothing looks more touristy than eating gelato in front of the Colosseum.

The Colosseum was probably my favorite stop thus far on our adventures through Rome. The Colosseum is said to be able to hold between 50 – 80 thousand people, which is roughly the same size as the Notre Dame football stadium. Imagine the same number of people who go to watch the Irish play in South Bend attending a gladiatorial battle. My one regret was not taking a great Lizzie McGuire picture there, but I’m sure there will be other visits. Another thing we couldn’t help but wonder while we were at the Colosseum was in regards to the lions that gladiators would fight there. Whose job was it to bring the lion to the Colosseum? Like who was the one who went out to find a lion, bring it over to the Colosseum, and then entertain and feed it until it was time for the show? That would be a great idea for a novel—diary of the lion keeper.

We’re really good at getting lost on our way to a specific restaurant for dinner and ending up somewhere spontaneous, which is exactly what happened again last night. We ended up at a great place in Piazza Navona and even though we just ordered cliché pasta alla pomodoro, it really just hit the spot. We watched the Notre Dame game at an Irish pub called Scholars, which would have been much more fun if our team actually won. At least I was able to drink away the heartbreak with my best friend Andrea, who was in visiting from France. Being in Rome with all of my best friends is literally something I never would have dreamed of happening. I’m so lucky.

Today was so exciting, because we got up to go to the Vatican and attend Papal Mass! Walking down the street towards it was actually like being in a dream. It was beautiful beyond words. Thousands of people were already gathered when we got there, about forty-five minutes early, and by the time we were leaving there were thousands more behind us. None of it was in English, but we found that we were able to follow along to the tune of things and my very loose Italian language skills aided in figuring out certain parts of the mass. Seeing the Pope made me tear up a little, not gonna lie, so today has already been one for the books and it’s only lunch time.

We’re planning on shopping around for the rest of the day and enjoying our time off before starting classes tomorrow! I can’t even get over how much I’ve learned in only five days, and I’m so excited to spend more time exploring Rome. A couple of things I’m still not an expert on:

• How to get over jetlag. Like, it’s been five days and I still need to take naps.
• How to convert euros to dollars. Everything just looks so cheap until you convert it.
• How to eat gelato without it dripping all over my hands. I’m a mess.
• How to walk on the cobblestone without falling all over people.

I’m working on it.