I am in Venice. I had planned to stay only one night here on account of financial expenditures, but will stay with a friend for another night and then move onward to Verona tomorrow. This is the Plan.
I have walked around a lot here in Venice. Last night I went to an 'opera' (in a place that was far too small for the powerful tenor who nearly busted my eardrums). Despite the decidedly inadequate venue, I was pleasantly tittled by my first experience with the opera. Wow - there is nothing quite like a stringed octet supporting the voice box of an opera singer .
Today I sat on a bench for a couple of hours to rest and play music. It was nice to play without a monetary-receptacle in front of me. Although I was able to find joy when playing in the streets for money, it feels different when I'm not trying to do anything but make music. I should probably feel the same whether or not I play for money, but when money becomes a part of the equation, something changes in my perception. I am not quite sure that I shall overcome the way I feel when I intend to make money for playing; I am not sure that I want to.
I met some welch musicians this morning in hotel adriatico who were scheduled to play a show with elton john in Venice. The show was cancelled, but they came for a photo shoot anyway. I might try to find them tonight for a beer. I'd like to catch a glimpse of their big smiles under freckels and red hair.
Venice is treating me well and I'd like to think that I am reciprocating the love. For some reason, while I was sitting on the bench today, two separate parties asked me for directions. For reasons unknown, I think I was actually able to help them out. One set of directions was given in english, and the other in italian. Wow, I am really learning italian: what a treat.
I think that I still want to try to get to Bologna after Verona. Only time will tell.
Soon the Fam will make their way to this beautiful boot and I will have time with the people that I really, truly love. Although I feel love and compassion for the wonderful people I am meeting here, it will be wonderful to spend time with my true loves in Italy. So much goodness still lies ahead of me in the blip of time remaining for me here.
I will surely want to come back once I have gone. I hope that I make it happen.
So much Love from me to you.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Monday, June 4, 2007
Paris
I have been in Paris for 4 nights and 3 days. Andrew and I have walked around a lot, eaten many delicious pastries, and are now preparing to part ways. Tonight I will board a Milano-bound train and that gets in at about 6am tomorrow morning. I am not exactly sure where I will go.
I might go to Venice or Verona or Bologna or all three.
I have been staying in the swanky apartment of Andrew's friend, Joseph. He is a fashion designer in Paris and has had little time between his research duties in vintage clothing stores, shopping excursions, and aperitivo parties at 11pm to play tour-guide. I am not quite sure that his rigorous work schedule (literally, he works 7 days a week) has allowed him to fully explore the city himself.
I am happy with a place to stay, but have been experiencing a lot of culture shock from being in an expensive apartment in an expensive city. I miss Avalon, or at least the way I felt there.
I am glad that I came here. And I am glad that I am going back to Italy to work on my italian and possibly try to find some friends that I have made.
This might be my last entry for a while as I have no idea where I will be in the coming days and weeks. I nebulously plan to return to Avalon and then head towards Rome to experience the italian rainbow gathering. And then, directly following that, my family is coming and I will meet them in Umbria.
I have a few more beautiful and exciting weeks ahead of me in Italy. Life is still sweet.
Love.
I might go to Venice or Verona or Bologna or all three.
I have been staying in the swanky apartment of Andrew's friend, Joseph. He is a fashion designer in Paris and has had little time between his research duties in vintage clothing stores, shopping excursions, and aperitivo parties at 11pm to play tour-guide. I am not quite sure that his rigorous work schedule (literally, he works 7 days a week) has allowed him to fully explore the city himself.
I am happy with a place to stay, but have been experiencing a lot of culture shock from being in an expensive apartment in an expensive city. I miss Avalon, or at least the way I felt there.
I am glad that I came here. And I am glad that I am going back to Italy to work on my italian and possibly try to find some friends that I have made.
This might be my last entry for a while as I have no idea where I will be in the coming days and weeks. I nebulously plan to return to Avalon and then head towards Rome to experience the italian rainbow gathering. And then, directly following that, my family is coming and I will meet them in Umbria.
I have a few more beautiful and exciting weeks ahead of me in Italy. Life is still sweet.
Love.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
ciao tutti!
Well, well, well - look what we have here: a laptop with internet acces in one of the corner rooms of Avalon.
Avalon is one community within the Elfi. The other 12 communities are in the 'Elfi Valley' approximately 45 minutes from here in a beautiful section of nearly untouched, forested mountains. Here there is an amazing terraced garden on the mountain side with vegetables, olive trees, and grape vines that overlook the small city of Pistoia.
I have been in Avalon for just over two weeks and have become close with some other travelers here. There are a few more permanent residents here with children and designated rooms, but most of the folks around the dinner table are passing through in a couple of days, weeks, or months. Most of them are nomads.
What a life; what a challenging, exciting, lonely, enticing life of a nomad. I am beginning to think that a return on July 17th just might be too soon. One of my new friends asked me to travel by land to India in August with him. I laughed, but he just looked at me. I know it sounds crazy, and I haven't exactly had time to mull it over in my mind long enough, but oh gosh - what an adventure.
Wowwowweewow! So much is changing within this head of mine. I feel very powerful and in-control and ready for (mostly) anything. I left Avalon last Tuesday and I spent two nights alone in a run-down house of my friend, Juan (who had left for germany). I think for the first time in my life I was really, truly by. my. self. His house is in the Elfi Valley, but he plans on turning it into a meeting place for homeopathic-related retreats for foreigners (which is more than slightly controversial within the Elfi community). Anyhow, I left his house feeling empowered and ready to take a hike into the unknown Elfi Valley to find one of the 12 communities, Granburrone.
I left early in the morning and hiked up, up, up the mountain and then down a bit and then thought I had made a wrong turn (which i had) and continued on a path that I hoped would lead me to Granburrone. I walked on the path for a while and, just as the path split and I was ready to reassess my prior decision, I heard a child's voice and then more voices. I saw the barely visible roofs of Granburrone. I sat down with them as they smoked their morning chillum and then started 'pulling the bad grass.'
I stayed there for one night and then left in a caravan headed for the Festa di Socializzazione. The Elfi organize this event every year and set up camp in the small park in the middle of Pistoia for the weekend. They make delicious pizza (nearly round-the-clock), present numerous 'spectaculos' (dances, puppet shows, music), and every night is filled with music, drum circles, and fire shows (!!!). I even learned how to spin a fire stick. Wowwowweewow.
Okokok. I must go. I hope that this provides at least a little bit of insight into what I've been experiencing. I am living a beautiful, beautiful life; a life that is possible anywhere; a life that I am sincerely drawn to. These people are happy, they work because they want to, and they are raising wonderfully adept children. Wow. They're doing it, they're really doing it.
I suppose that I am doing it too. I am really, seriously doing it.
Love, love, love.
Baci è abbraci
Avalon is one community within the Elfi. The other 12 communities are in the 'Elfi Valley' approximately 45 minutes from here in a beautiful section of nearly untouched, forested mountains. Here there is an amazing terraced garden on the mountain side with vegetables, olive trees, and grape vines that overlook the small city of Pistoia.
I have been in Avalon for just over two weeks and have become close with some other travelers here. There are a few more permanent residents here with children and designated rooms, but most of the folks around the dinner table are passing through in a couple of days, weeks, or months. Most of them are nomads.
What a life; what a challenging, exciting, lonely, enticing life of a nomad. I am beginning to think that a return on July 17th just might be too soon. One of my new friends asked me to travel by land to India in August with him. I laughed, but he just looked at me. I know it sounds crazy, and I haven't exactly had time to mull it over in my mind long enough, but oh gosh - what an adventure.
Wowwowweewow! So much is changing within this head of mine. I feel very powerful and in-control and ready for (mostly) anything. I left Avalon last Tuesday and I spent two nights alone in a run-down house of my friend, Juan (who had left for germany). I think for the first time in my life I was really, truly by. my. self. His house is in the Elfi Valley, but he plans on turning it into a meeting place for homeopathic-related retreats for foreigners (which is more than slightly controversial within the Elfi community). Anyhow, I left his house feeling empowered and ready to take a hike into the unknown Elfi Valley to find one of the 12 communities, Granburrone.
I left early in the morning and hiked up, up, up the mountain and then down a bit and then thought I had made a wrong turn (which i had) and continued on a path that I hoped would lead me to Granburrone. I walked on the path for a while and, just as the path split and I was ready to reassess my prior decision, I heard a child's voice and then more voices. I saw the barely visible roofs of Granburrone. I sat down with them as they smoked their morning chillum and then started 'pulling the bad grass.'
I stayed there for one night and then left in a caravan headed for the Festa di Socializzazione. The Elfi organize this event every year and set up camp in the small park in the middle of Pistoia for the weekend. They make delicious pizza (nearly round-the-clock), present numerous 'spectaculos' (dances, puppet shows, music), and every night is filled with music, drum circles, and fire shows (!!!). I even learned how to spin a fire stick. Wowwowweewow.
Okokok. I must go. I hope that this provides at least a little bit of insight into what I've been experiencing. I am living a beautiful, beautiful life; a life that is possible anywhere; a life that I am sincerely drawn to. These people are happy, they work because they want to, and they are raising wonderfully adept children. Wow. They're doing it, they're really doing it.
I suppose that I am doing it too. I am really, seriously doing it.
Love, love, love.
Baci è abbraci
Friday, May 11, 2007
Levanto. Revisited.
I am back in Levanto (on the sea and down the mountain from Sandro's casa in Bardellone).
I hope to be brief as this internet point is very expensive.
I finally met some friends my own age in my last couple of days in Genova. We played music and drank beer. I am surprised by how much I miss the company of young people.
I find myself losing patience with Sandro. There are certain things that he does that irk me. I have yet to decide whether I am seeing what is to be seen or making things up in my head. It is probably both. As the novelty of living, working, eating, and learning together wears off, language barriers and general misunderstandings can create uncomfortable situations.
I can envision returning here for a short time after Paris, but I think I have had enough of this place for now. A part of me wants to stay to figure out what it is that is making me want to leave and then resolve it, but I think this to be quasi impossible. I know any problem I have is within me and without me and my responsibility. I am doing fine, but I find myself often irritable and unwelcoming. I don't like this in me. I want to leave.
On Monday, Sandro and I are going to Tuscany to stay with a self sustaining community in the mountains. I think I will remain there until I depart for Paris. I am not positive about this, but presently I feel it is right. There are young people there who are living off the land. I think I will like it and I think it will be good for me.
The people in the mountains call themselves the Elfi. They have named the areas of their community after places in The Lord of the Rings. I am sure I will know more about it in the coming days.
Wish me luck. This time in my travels is kind of difficult: just over three weeks away from home and two weeks without english-speaking companionship. I think there will be both english speakers and, certainly, italian speakers within the Elfi. I will be able to communicate while continuing my studies. I think this is right for me.
Baci é abbraci.
I hope to be brief as this internet point is very expensive.
I finally met some friends my own age in my last couple of days in Genova. We played music and drank beer. I am surprised by how much I miss the company of young people.
I find myself losing patience with Sandro. There are certain things that he does that irk me. I have yet to decide whether I am seeing what is to be seen or making things up in my head. It is probably both. As the novelty of living, working, eating, and learning together wears off, language barriers and general misunderstandings can create uncomfortable situations.
I can envision returning here for a short time after Paris, but I think I have had enough of this place for now. A part of me wants to stay to figure out what it is that is making me want to leave and then resolve it, but I think this to be quasi impossible. I know any problem I have is within me and without me and my responsibility. I am doing fine, but I find myself often irritable and unwelcoming. I don't like this in me. I want to leave.
On Monday, Sandro and I are going to Tuscany to stay with a self sustaining community in the mountains. I think I will remain there until I depart for Paris. I am not positive about this, but presently I feel it is right. There are young people there who are living off the land. I think I will like it and I think it will be good for me.
The people in the mountains call themselves the Elfi. They have named the areas of their community after places in The Lord of the Rings. I am sure I will know more about it in the coming days.
Wish me luck. This time in my travels is kind of difficult: just over three weeks away from home and two weeks without english-speaking companionship. I think there will be both english speakers and, certainly, italian speakers within the Elfi. I will be able to communicate while continuing my studies. I think this is right for me.
Baci é abbraci.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
A Life in Genova
This is going to be my last day and night in Lucia's apartment. Sandro returns from Bardellone today and we will probably head back that way tomorrow or the next day. I am looking forward to returning to the countryside, but have not dismissed an offer I received to stay in Genova indefinitely. A woman named Aisha who owns a cafe here asked me to babysit her children. She said that I could live with her and act as nanny. I met her kids and I observed the two of them (an older brother and younger sister) dancing with each other (her on his feet), laughing a lot, and swordfighting with chopsticks. I also had the opportunity to meet and talk with the man in Aisha's life. He is english by birth, but owns a house in the south of France, a flat in London, and considers owning the cafe Aisha manages as a "hobby." When Aisha was making the offer, all I could think about was fresh-squeezed orange juice on a terrace in the south of France.
Is that so wrong?
I think the position would last longer than I intend to be in Italy. I will keep it in mind and consider contacting Aisha if I return next summer (a possibility...).
The past few days have been filled with walking the streets of Genova, grocery shopping at the biologic (organic) grocery store, buying espressos, playing guitar in the streets, and making yoga. I have also been reading the italian-english dictionary like it's a Dan Brown mystery novel. I am getting better at italian though it is still difficult and tiring to communicate; like yesterday when I was trying to politely tell a young genovese boy that I did not want to go have a drink with him. Silly, silly italian men.
I cut my hair. Not all of it, but at least 5 inches. I don't know if it's my new attitude or the new 'do, but I feel like there are fewer probing, mannish eyes looking my way. Maybe once I stopped looking at them, they dissappeared.
The day before yesterday, I played on a commericial, pedestrian street in the historic district of Genova called San Lorenzo. I played for almost an hour and a half and walked away with 11€. I bought the night's focaccia and espresso for Lucia with my earnings as she stuck around for the duration of my 'performance'. Yesterday, I decided to play at the port of Genova. I played for about 45 minutes in the blazing afternoon sun and didn't make squat (except for two loyal fans). I then moved to the shade where I could overhear the old genovese women talking about me like I couldn't understand any italian. The port was not my favorite place to play. Some people seemed to like the music (they turned around to watch me and stayed quiet while I played), but they didn't openly express it to me. People don't usually come up to me when I'm playing on the streets if they're not going to give me money. I don't give a shit if they give me money, but some sort of acknowledgment of my existence would be nice.
Alas, I know the problems I've found with playing in the streets rest within my own head and if I want to play then I have to do it for me and, come what may, enjoy it. So I left the Port and went to San Lorenzo again where people are walking around and more likely to give me a pleasing smile or some other sort of sign that I really am existing with them, there in that moment. I played for about a half an hour and ended the "work" day on a good note (so to speak). One man stood about 10 feet away from me rifling through his wallet for a minute or so then walked up to my case and tossed in all the change he could find; he looked into my eyes for a moment and said, "Grazie."
I packed up my things at about 17:45 and headed to the Cafe Dolce (where Aisha works) and had a beer and a slice of lasagna. I chatted with my two Algerian friends and Aisha for a while before returning to Lucia's. The two of us crazy cats had an early night and went to bed at around 10pm. Lucia and I talked about going to the opera tonight and I sure do hope that we do. I have never seen an opera and I think I am ready.
Ciao. Baci é abbraci
Is that so wrong?
I think the position would last longer than I intend to be in Italy. I will keep it in mind and consider contacting Aisha if I return next summer (a possibility...).
The past few days have been filled with walking the streets of Genova, grocery shopping at the biologic (organic) grocery store, buying espressos, playing guitar in the streets, and making yoga. I have also been reading the italian-english dictionary like it's a Dan Brown mystery novel. I am getting better at italian though it is still difficult and tiring to communicate; like yesterday when I was trying to politely tell a young genovese boy that I did not want to go have a drink with him. Silly, silly italian men.
I cut my hair. Not all of it, but at least 5 inches. I don't know if it's my new attitude or the new 'do, but I feel like there are fewer probing, mannish eyes looking my way. Maybe once I stopped looking at them, they dissappeared.
The day before yesterday, I played on a commericial, pedestrian street in the historic district of Genova called San Lorenzo. I played for almost an hour and a half and walked away with 11€. I bought the night's focaccia and espresso for Lucia with my earnings as she stuck around for the duration of my 'performance'. Yesterday, I decided to play at the port of Genova. I played for about 45 minutes in the blazing afternoon sun and didn't make squat (except for two loyal fans). I then moved to the shade where I could overhear the old genovese women talking about me like I couldn't understand any italian. The port was not my favorite place to play. Some people seemed to like the music (they turned around to watch me and stayed quiet while I played), but they didn't openly express it to me. People don't usually come up to me when I'm playing on the streets if they're not going to give me money. I don't give a shit if they give me money, but some sort of acknowledgment of my existence would be nice.
Alas, I know the problems I've found with playing in the streets rest within my own head and if I want to play then I have to do it for me and, come what may, enjoy it. So I left the Port and went to San Lorenzo again where people are walking around and more likely to give me a pleasing smile or some other sort of sign that I really am existing with them, there in that moment. I played for about a half an hour and ended the "work" day on a good note (so to speak). One man stood about 10 feet away from me rifling through his wallet for a minute or so then walked up to my case and tossed in all the change he could find; he looked into my eyes for a moment and said, "Grazie."
I packed up my things at about 17:45 and headed to the Cafe Dolce (where Aisha works) and had a beer and a slice of lasagna. I chatted with my two Algerian friends and Aisha for a while before returning to Lucia's. The two of us crazy cats had an early night and went to bed at around 10pm. Lucia and I talked about going to the opera tonight and I sure do hope that we do. I have never seen an opera and I think I am ready.
Ciao. Baci é abbraci
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Dudes at a Bar (and some chicas too)
I went to a caffe last night with Lucia and some of her friends. I brought my guitar and sang a few tunes (probably too loudly, but i think they liked it anyways).
In this bar there were two dudes from Algeria, one dude from England, and a couple of chicas from Spain. I'd be hard-pressed to find this combination in the States.
Actually, now that I think about it, my little college town in blacksburg is pretty diverse if you look in the right places. Because many grad students are from abroad, on any given night there can be at least a few countries represented in The Cellar. The difference here is that, when they ask me to visit them, it might be a possibility in the coming months. Europe: 27 countries with at LEAST 27 different cultures. Awesome.
I hung out with the two algerian dudes last night (amur, amar) and spoke in slow english. We talked about the deserts of Algeria, different dialects, and connections and disconnections between languages (as they speak algerian, french, and understandable english). It was a good time.
Well, another day is here. It is rainy again, and i am thankful for a reason to stay inside and study conjugations. I will conquer you, italian, if it's the last thing i do! bwahahahahaaaaa, bwahahahahaaaa (evil-sounding laughter).
Baci é abbraci
In this bar there were two dudes from Algeria, one dude from England, and a couple of chicas from Spain. I'd be hard-pressed to find this combination in the States.
Actually, now that I think about it, my little college town in blacksburg is pretty diverse if you look in the right places. Because many grad students are from abroad, on any given night there can be at least a few countries represented in The Cellar. The difference here is that, when they ask me to visit them, it might be a possibility in the coming months. Europe: 27 countries with at LEAST 27 different cultures. Awesome.
I hung out with the two algerian dudes last night (amur, amar) and spoke in slow english. We talked about the deserts of Algeria, different dialects, and connections and disconnections between languages (as they speak algerian, french, and understandable english). It was a good time.
Well, another day is here. It is rainy again, and i am thankful for a reason to stay inside and study conjugations. I will conquer you, italian, if it's the last thing i do! bwahahahahaaaaa, bwahahahahaaaa (evil-sounding laughter).
Baci é abbraci
Friday, May 4, 2007
Sure, I'll stay with you in your beautiful genovesi apartment, Lucia.
Sandro has gone back to Bardellone with his friend Concetta while I check out Genova more thoroughly. Lucia invited me to stay with her in her apartment until Sandro returns on Tuesday. This has made me happy for a number of reasons. Let me count the ways:
1) I think Sandro was planning on going back to Bardellone very early in the morning today. I was not interested in getting up at 4am to drive back.
2) I haven't yet had a chance to try my hand at street-music. It is rainy here now, but it is supposed to be nice tomorrow, sunday, monday, tuesday so I will have my chance.
3) I started drawing the duomo (cathedral) of Genova and I still need a couple of hours to finish it. Maybe I will and maybe I won't.
4) Genova is a remarkable city. It has all the history and magic of other big cities in Italy, and yet far fewer tourists. It is a little secret that should be kept.
5) I really like Lucia (loo-CHEE-ah). She is 63 years old and quite a little firecracker. When we were walking back up the mountain from Levanto the other day, we passed by many private farms with lemons, olives, and roses that were accessible from the road. Lucia would hunch over a little bit, raise her eyebrows, and put her finger to her lips in the 'shush' position then say, "piano, piano...voi un limone?" "quiet, quiet...do you want a lemon?" She picked a lemon and then quickly stuffed it in her bag. Lucia is awesome.
6)Tonight I will provide the entertainment for a small get together among friends here at Lucia's apartment. I think this will be fun.
7) Lucia's apartment is really beautiful. It is old, old, old (like nearly all the buildings in this city and country). The door to her apartment building has midieval spikes on it that look like they could stop a fire-breathing dragon. Maybe this was the intention. I hear that fire-breathing dragons really existed here when people believed in them.
Anyhow - I am in Genova and will be here for a week or so. Unlike Firenze, the center of this city is pedestrian-only. Both Sandro and Lucia live in this section of the city so it is not nearly as loud or polluted as Firenze. Genova is not trapped between mountains like Firenze either, so the air (and pollution) moves around and doesn't stagnate to become smog. I like Genova.
OK, I think I shall watch the rain or try to talk to Lucia or write a song in italian for the party tonight. So many choices, so little time. Oh..wait - no, no - I have plenty of time. Sweet.
Baci é abbraci
1) I think Sandro was planning on going back to Bardellone very early in the morning today. I was not interested in getting up at 4am to drive back.
2) I haven't yet had a chance to try my hand at street-music. It is rainy here now, but it is supposed to be nice tomorrow, sunday, monday, tuesday so I will have my chance.
3) I started drawing the duomo (cathedral) of Genova and I still need a couple of hours to finish it. Maybe I will and maybe I won't.
4) Genova is a remarkable city. It has all the history and magic of other big cities in Italy, and yet far fewer tourists. It is a little secret that should be kept.
5) I really like Lucia (loo-CHEE-ah). She is 63 years old and quite a little firecracker. When we were walking back up the mountain from Levanto the other day, we passed by many private farms with lemons, olives, and roses that were accessible from the road. Lucia would hunch over a little bit, raise her eyebrows, and put her finger to her lips in the 'shush' position then say, "piano, piano...voi un limone?" "quiet, quiet...do you want a lemon?" She picked a lemon and then quickly stuffed it in her bag. Lucia is awesome.
6)Tonight I will provide the entertainment for a small get together among friends here at Lucia's apartment. I think this will be fun.
7) Lucia's apartment is really beautiful. It is old, old, old (like nearly all the buildings in this city and country). The door to her apartment building has midieval spikes on it that look like they could stop a fire-breathing dragon. Maybe this was the intention. I hear that fire-breathing dragons really existed here when people believed in them.
Anyhow - I am in Genova and will be here for a week or so. Unlike Firenze, the center of this city is pedestrian-only. Both Sandro and Lucia live in this section of the city so it is not nearly as loud or polluted as Firenze. Genova is not trapped between mountains like Firenze either, so the air (and pollution) moves around and doesn't stagnate to become smog. I like Genova.
OK, I think I shall watch the rain or try to talk to Lucia or write a song in italian for the party tonight. So many choices, so little time. Oh..wait - no, no - I have plenty of time. Sweet.
Baci é abbraci
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Genova
Sandro spends his summers in the woods of Bardellone and his winters in the city of Genova. Lucia, Sandro, and I made the 3-hour journey by car from Levanto to Genova yesterday because both Lucia and Sandro have apartments here. I suspect that this trip might only take 1-2 hours if there isn't any traffic. We were in stop-and-go traffic for a little over an hour. During the second half our sporadic progress through the Ligurian mountains, I thought of another man in my life that I could be driving with. I was glad that he (and I) did not have to experience the traffic jam together. It probably would have been unpleasant: especially when we were stuck in the f*cking miles and miles of tunnels through the mountains behind a petroleum-spewing truck. Yum.
Genova is an ancient city by the sea. It is complete with ancient Roman acqueducts, a beautiful cathedral, and a great view of the city from it's major port. Last night, Sandro, Stefano (Sandro's old friend, my new friend), and I walked around Genova and, after a wild and wacky dance party, walked along the port. I had fun and continued to to try to make sense to my new friends in italian. Even though my grammar is usually wrong and my vocabulary is still small, I think it is easier for them to understand more complex thoughts of mine in italian. Sometimes I find myself trying to explain things in english (after mostly failing in italian) because I think it will make more sense to them. This is not logical.
The sky has been threatening rain all day and I spent the morning in Sandro's apartment. Because it hasn't started to rain yet, I am beginning to believe that it won't rain today. This could be good for Maggie. Maybe I will go back to Sandro's apartment, grab my guitar, and make some cash-money-bills on the streets of Genova. Both Sandro and Lucia think this is a good idea. Sandro had another american WWOOFer stay with him a couple of years ago who successfully made some money playing guitar in one of the many plazas here. Awww yeah.
I think we will return to Bardellone tomorrow to feed Sheila. She has been all alone in Bardellone since we left. Although she is independent, she is still young I am sure she has missed us. Poor Sheila.
Sheila is a cat.
Well, I must be off to learn and sing and speak italian. I know that I've said something with the correct accent when a stranger does not answer me in english. Maybe I'll go order a coffee and see what kind of response I get. "Vorrei un caffe, per favore? Grazie."
Abbraci é baci
Genova is an ancient city by the sea. It is complete with ancient Roman acqueducts, a beautiful cathedral, and a great view of the city from it's major port. Last night, Sandro, Stefano (Sandro's old friend, my new friend), and I walked around Genova and, after a wild and wacky dance party, walked along the port. I had fun and continued to to try to make sense to my new friends in italian. Even though my grammar is usually wrong and my vocabulary is still small, I think it is easier for them to understand more complex thoughts of mine in italian. Sometimes I find myself trying to explain things in english (after mostly failing in italian) because I think it will make more sense to them. This is not logical.
The sky has been threatening rain all day and I spent the morning in Sandro's apartment. Because it hasn't started to rain yet, I am beginning to believe that it won't rain today. This could be good for Maggie. Maybe I will go back to Sandro's apartment, grab my guitar, and make some cash-money-bills on the streets of Genova. Both Sandro and Lucia think this is a good idea. Sandro had another american WWOOFer stay with him a couple of years ago who successfully made some money playing guitar in one of the many plazas here. Awww yeah.
I think we will return to Bardellone tomorrow to feed Sheila. She has been all alone in Bardellone since we left. Although she is independent, she is still young I am sure she has missed us. Poor Sheila.
Sheila is a cat.
Well, I must be off to learn and sing and speak italian. I know that I've said something with the correct accent when a stranger does not answer me in english. Maybe I'll go order a coffee and see what kind of response I get. "Vorrei un caffe, per favore? Grazie."
Abbraci é baci
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Primo di Maggio
Sandro, Lucia, Louisa, Vincenzo, and I woke up this morning at 8am and were out of the house by 9. We walked for two and a half hours down the mountain from Bardellone where Sandro's house sits on the top of a mountain. Now I am in Levanto and will soon meet the others by the sea. It is primo di maggio and there is a festival to celebrate. No work and all play today. Exactly what we are celebrating is unclear to me. Apparently it is unclear to everyone else here too; no one can explain it to me. Sandro hypothesized that it marks the beginning of summer: certainly a time for celebration.
I have now spent 4 nights in the beautiful, isolated Bardellone. On the night I arrived, I was sitting in the kitchen and looking out of the window to the east when Sandro came in and told me I should go watch the sunset. He said slowly and in careful english, "The sun has good energy. And there is no sign of humans to the west." Of course, he was right. I watched the wonderous crimson sun sink behind the mountains and knew that I was where I should be.
Sandro speaks enough english to communicate with me adaquately, but not enough for me to truly express myself in english. I have been spending hours and hours and hours studying italian in the past days. Sandro is a good teacher and has been patiently teaching me how to conjugate verbs. In the past 4 days, I have gone from understanding 10-20% of what they say, to 25%-60% (depending on the topic of discussion. Lucia is reading about yoga and meditation and, because Sandro is a yoga master, she asks him a lot of questions about Buddhism).
I have been thinking in italian (piano, piano, piano = slowly, slowly, slowly). I have been constantly trying to form simple sentences in my head and, because this takes me so long, I had to explain the meaning of the phrase 'non sequitor' yesterday. The explanation took at least five minutes of their attention, but they finally understood. It takes patience from both me and my listener to communicate. Luckily I am with people that, for the most part, will give me the time I need.
Much of my time here has been spent studying italian (conjugating verbs, building vocabulary), but I have also been 'making yoga' (Sandro's english), working in the garden (planting potatoes, basil, tomatoes, eggplant, and zucchini), and playing a lot of music. Sandro also has a guitar and is eager for me to learn italian songs. We usually play for an hour or two after dinner. The nights have frequently ended with me turning down Sandro's offering of the guitar with "no, no, no. io sono molto stanca, sandro. vorrei dormire!" (no, no, no. i am very tired, sandro. I want to sleep!"
A Typical Day: I usually wake up around 8am, go downstairs and have an espresso with Lucia (Sandro is already working in the garden) and eat a piece of sweet bread, or a biscuit, or a piece of toast with marmalade. I will go to the garden and work for a couple of hours, or study italian, or meditate with Sandro and Lucia. We eat lunch at 1pm which consists usually of vegetable soup or pasta with salad, bread, and some zucchini in garlic or carfalla (i think that's what it's called...). We eat and then we rest. The early afternoon is spent napping or talking or playing music or, for me, studying italian. Then, usually around 4pm, we'll do whatever it is we are to do in the afternoon: maybe make yoga, or walk to Levanto, or meditate, or study, study, study. We eat dinner at around 8pm which is similar fare to lunch. We'll have soup or pasta with salad, bread, and other vegetables from the garden. Sometimes, when there are most guests (like Louisa and Vince), we will put some wine on the table. After dinner, we have fruit and tea and then sing the night away. I am usually ready for bed around 10pm or 11pm, but have successfully made it past midnight once or twice.
I am learning so much here that I can't really imagine leaving. I want to stay with Sandro until I have a better grasp on the italian language. This might mean that I stay here until I go to Paris on the 31st, or it might mean that I am here only until the 20th. I am not sure how long it will take me to become comfortable with the language. Because I am just beginning, I can see rapid improvement in my comprehension. I suspect that however that, as I continue learning, the rate of my progress (or at least observable improvement) will slow.
Not only do I want to stay here because Sandro is a good teacher and the lifestyle is both relaxing and inspiring, but the climate is perfect and waking up in the mountains is inexplicably wonderful. I might stay here for a while. I suppose it is possible that I could stay here for the duration of my time in Italy. I will probably change locations after I return from Paris. Only time (and my mind) will tell.
As always, I hope that all is well in the united states of america and I wish that everyone I love could feel this beauty. Goodness, gracious it is miraculously beautiful here by the sea. I dont't think I will be able to upload my pictures until I get back to the states. Io sono aspettavo; I will wait (...I think. Any italian-speakers out there?)
Baci e abbraci (kisses and hugs)
I have now spent 4 nights in the beautiful, isolated Bardellone. On the night I arrived, I was sitting in the kitchen and looking out of the window to the east when Sandro came in and told me I should go watch the sunset. He said slowly and in careful english, "The sun has good energy. And there is no sign of humans to the west." Of course, he was right. I watched the wonderous crimson sun sink behind the mountains and knew that I was where I should be.
Sandro speaks enough english to communicate with me adaquately, but not enough for me to truly express myself in english. I have been spending hours and hours and hours studying italian in the past days. Sandro is a good teacher and has been patiently teaching me how to conjugate verbs. In the past 4 days, I have gone from understanding 10-20% of what they say, to 25%-60% (depending on the topic of discussion. Lucia is reading about yoga and meditation and, because Sandro is a yoga master, she asks him a lot of questions about Buddhism).
I have been thinking in italian (piano, piano, piano = slowly, slowly, slowly). I have been constantly trying to form simple sentences in my head and, because this takes me so long, I had to explain the meaning of the phrase 'non sequitor' yesterday. The explanation took at least five minutes of their attention, but they finally understood. It takes patience from both me and my listener to communicate. Luckily I am with people that, for the most part, will give me the time I need.
Much of my time here has been spent studying italian (conjugating verbs, building vocabulary), but I have also been 'making yoga' (Sandro's english), working in the garden (planting potatoes, basil, tomatoes, eggplant, and zucchini), and playing a lot of music. Sandro also has a guitar and is eager for me to learn italian songs. We usually play for an hour or two after dinner. The nights have frequently ended with me turning down Sandro's offering of the guitar with "no, no, no. io sono molto stanca, sandro. vorrei dormire!" (no, no, no. i am very tired, sandro. I want to sleep!"
A Typical Day: I usually wake up around 8am, go downstairs and have an espresso with Lucia (Sandro is already working in the garden) and eat a piece of sweet bread, or a biscuit, or a piece of toast with marmalade. I will go to the garden and work for a couple of hours, or study italian, or meditate with Sandro and Lucia. We eat lunch at 1pm which consists usually of vegetable soup or pasta with salad, bread, and some zucchini in garlic or carfalla (i think that's what it's called...). We eat and then we rest. The early afternoon is spent napping or talking or playing music or, for me, studying italian. Then, usually around 4pm, we'll do whatever it is we are to do in the afternoon: maybe make yoga, or walk to Levanto, or meditate, or study, study, study. We eat dinner at around 8pm which is similar fare to lunch. We'll have soup or pasta with salad, bread, and other vegetables from the garden. Sometimes, when there are most guests (like Louisa and Vince), we will put some wine on the table. After dinner, we have fruit and tea and then sing the night away. I am usually ready for bed around 10pm or 11pm, but have successfully made it past midnight once or twice.
I am learning so much here that I can't really imagine leaving. I want to stay with Sandro until I have a better grasp on the italian language. This might mean that I stay here until I go to Paris on the 31st, or it might mean that I am here only until the 20th. I am not sure how long it will take me to become comfortable with the language. Because I am just beginning, I can see rapid improvement in my comprehension. I suspect that however that, as I continue learning, the rate of my progress (or at least observable improvement) will slow.
Not only do I want to stay here because Sandro is a good teacher and the lifestyle is both relaxing and inspiring, but the climate is perfect and waking up in the mountains is inexplicably wonderful. I might stay here for a while. I suppose it is possible that I could stay here for the duration of my time in Italy. I will probably change locations after I return from Paris. Only time (and my mind) will tell.
As always, I hope that all is well in the united states of america and I wish that everyone I love could feel this beauty. Goodness, gracious it is miraculously beautiful here by the sea. I dont't think I will be able to upload my pictures until I get back to the states. Io sono aspettavo; I will wait (...I think. Any italian-speakers out there?)
Baci e abbraci (kisses and hugs)
Friday, April 27, 2007
Going to Levanto (like Dorothy and Toto)
I talked with Sandro this morning and in broken englitalian, we decided that he will pick me up at the Levanto train station at 18:22. Sandro understands my english well except when I talk too fast on the phone. I want to learn italian so I tried communicating with him in italian this morning. It will probably be easier to speak in italian when we are face to face. I am so glad that, in a pinch, we will be able to talk in english.
As excited as I am to go spend some time on the top of a mountain that overlooks the mediterranean sea with Sandro, I will miss my new friends here. Andree, Zeno and I have had a good time over the past couple of days. (Aldo has had to work so I have spent less time with him, but in just an hour or two of chatting, I know we are kindred spirits.) Last night Andree and I watched Marie Antoinette. We were up until about 1:30am and mommy was sure sleepy this morning; she gave her ritual thanks to the coffee gods at breakfast while I continued reading The Bell Jar.
This is my second reading of The Bell Jar and, yes, I still love Sylvia Plath. I haven't read any of her poetry yet, and I am missing the book of her letters home that I left behind in Blacksburg. Oh, Sylvia - I would like your insight while I'm on my European adventure. When might I return to your wisdom? Right, right, rriiight - when I go back to school in the fall. We shall meet again!
_________________________
Anywho - I have made nebulous plans with Christie Booth to meet her in La Rochelle, where she is studying. We talked about May 23rd or 24th to stay for a little less than a week. From there, I will eventually make it to Paris to meet Andrew Rose Gregory on the May 31st. My Franco-adventures promise to be just as exciting as my journey in Italy. I must start to look at plane tickets to France.
Sandro confirmed my suspicions that there will not be internet access on the farm. I do not know how long I will be there: maybe a week, maybe two, three. I do not know what this next step of my journey holds in store. I only know that it is probably going to be full of awe (awful just doesn't work for what I mean to say).
I hope to talk with ma and pa tonight on the phone around 10pm (hear me, folks?) and it will be lovely to hear their voices. I spoke with Andrew on the phone the other day and I had already forgotten how you can simultaneously feel much closer and farther away to someone when you talk with them on the phone. It is truly wonderful.
I must be off. Andree, Zeno and I are going to eat some lunch before I board the train at 14:22. Levanto, here I come!
Baci!
PS I expect that only one or two people reading my blog will understand the title of this entry. Am I right?
As excited as I am to go spend some time on the top of a mountain that overlooks the mediterranean sea with Sandro, I will miss my new friends here. Andree, Zeno and I have had a good time over the past couple of days. (Aldo has had to work so I have spent less time with him, but in just an hour or two of chatting, I know we are kindred spirits.) Last night Andree and I watched Marie Antoinette. We were up until about 1:30am and mommy was sure sleepy this morning; she gave her ritual thanks to the coffee gods at breakfast while I continued reading The Bell Jar.
This is my second reading of The Bell Jar and, yes, I still love Sylvia Plath. I haven't read any of her poetry yet, and I am missing the book of her letters home that I left behind in Blacksburg. Oh, Sylvia - I would like your insight while I'm on my European adventure. When might I return to your wisdom? Right, right, rriiight - when I go back to school in the fall. We shall meet again!
_________________________
Anywho - I have made nebulous plans with Christie Booth to meet her in La Rochelle, where she is studying. We talked about May 23rd or 24th to stay for a little less than a week. From there, I will eventually make it to Paris to meet Andrew Rose Gregory on the May 31st. My Franco-adventures promise to be just as exciting as my journey in Italy. I must start to look at plane tickets to France.
Sandro confirmed my suspicions that there will not be internet access on the farm. I do not know how long I will be there: maybe a week, maybe two, three. I do not know what this next step of my journey holds in store. I only know that it is probably going to be full of awe (awful just doesn't work for what I mean to say).
I hope to talk with ma and pa tonight on the phone around 10pm (hear me, folks?) and it will be lovely to hear their voices. I spoke with Andrew on the phone the other day and I had already forgotten how you can simultaneously feel much closer and farther away to someone when you talk with them on the phone. It is truly wonderful.
I must be off. Andree, Zeno and I are going to eat some lunch before I board the train at 14:22. Levanto, here I come!
Baci!
PS I expect that only one or two people reading my blog will understand the title of this entry. Am I right?
Thursday, April 26, 2007
You can't go hungry here
Okay, so the train station that I pulled into yesterday is in Pontassieve, however I am not in Pontassieve right now. I am in a smaller town called Donnini. Donnini is in the middle of olive groves in the mountains. Andree told me about the wild fig trees, olive trees, and chestnuts around here. When in season, locals can go around and pick whatever they want. In times of economic decline, chestnuts are used to make flower. This gives all the breads a sweeter taste and Andree says it is quite delicious. I wonder why they don't do it in times of economic prosperity as well. In the spring, summer, and fall you can find local women walking out of the forests with a basket of greens to make salads.
Over our morning toast with local fig jelly Andree said to me, "you can't go hungry here."
After breakfast, Andree and I hopped in the car, strapped Zeno in his car seat, and headed into Pontassieve. We went to the co-op supermarket and loaded up. I bought some apples and sunblock. I almost completed the check-out process without any help from Andree; I had observed the questions from the cashier "would you like a bag?" (non grazie) and I even understood the price of my things (£12), but I had forgotten to go to the ATM and needed £2 from Andree. Close, but no cigar.
We then went to a hardware store to get an adaptor for european outlets. Now I can listen to the ipod again. That will be nice.
We drove back the winding, mountainous roads to Donnini and then, while Andree fed Zeno his lunch, I fixed a salad. We had an artichoke quiche, salad, bread, fava beans, a glass of white wine, and some local cheese. Ah yes, I have given up the veganism for the trip and am able to enjoy the cheeses here. I wasn't sure that I would want to eat it, but, after a small taste test, I realized that cheese here is a good thing. A very good thing.
Andree, Zeno and I are going to go to the top of the mountain and enjoy the view. We might also go to a wind farm. I will stay the night here and tomorrow I will head to my first farm. I am WWOOFing here (willing workers on organic farms) and will be traveling from town to town working on farms. My first farm is in Liguria in a town called Levanto. I hear it is beautiful. Tomorrow I will call Sandro, the owner of the farm, and tell him when I will be arriving. This is exciting. I have little idea of what to expect and I have no idea if I will have access to the internet. We shall soon see. If I don't have access to the internet, I suppose I'll have to record my thoughts the old fashioned way. With my pen in hand, I will continue to observe my surroundings and soak up the beauty of Italy. It will be lovely, I am sure.
My journey is still beginning. I am on my way.
Baci
Over our morning toast with local fig jelly Andree said to me, "you can't go hungry here."
After breakfast, Andree and I hopped in the car, strapped Zeno in his car seat, and headed into Pontassieve. We went to the co-op supermarket and loaded up. I bought some apples and sunblock. I almost completed the check-out process without any help from Andree; I had observed the questions from the cashier "would you like a bag?" (non grazie) and I even understood the price of my things (£12), but I had forgotten to go to the ATM and needed £2 from Andree. Close, but no cigar.
We then went to a hardware store to get an adaptor for european outlets. Now I can listen to the ipod again. That will be nice.
We drove back the winding, mountainous roads to Donnini and then, while Andree fed Zeno his lunch, I fixed a salad. We had an artichoke quiche, salad, bread, fava beans, a glass of white wine, and some local cheese. Ah yes, I have given up the veganism for the trip and am able to enjoy the cheeses here. I wasn't sure that I would want to eat it, but, after a small taste test, I realized that cheese here is a good thing. A very good thing.
Andree, Zeno and I are going to go to the top of the mountain and enjoy the view. We might also go to a wind farm. I will stay the night here and tomorrow I will head to my first farm. I am WWOOFing here (willing workers on organic farms) and will be traveling from town to town working on farms. My first farm is in Liguria in a town called Levanto. I hear it is beautiful. Tomorrow I will call Sandro, the owner of the farm, and tell him when I will be arriving. This is exciting. I have little idea of what to expect and I have no idea if I will have access to the internet. We shall soon see. If I don't have access to the internet, I suppose I'll have to record my thoughts the old fashioned way. With my pen in hand, I will continue to observe my surroundings and soak up the beauty of Italy. It will be lovely, I am sure.
My journey is still beginning. I am on my way.
Baci
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
I did it.
I called Andree today. She is my good friend Aldi's cousin who has lived here in Italy for almost 4 years. She studied in Firenze in college, fell in love, and is now married to Aldo with a beautiful son, Zeno. They live in Pontassieve. It is beautiful.
This morning I awoke and decided that I would really try to leave Florence. I called Andree's house and we discussed what trains to take to get to Pontassieve. This small town is about 30 minutes east of Firenze by train. What a differene a half hour makes. The air smells wonderful here, the mountains are beautiful, and it isn't stifling hot like in the city.
Most commercial stores were closed today because it is a national holiday. Today marks the anniversary of when fascism was overthrown in Italy after WWII. Way to go, Italy. After I arrived, we went to a small festival in a nearby town called Pelego. There were many jewelers, organic farmers, and activities for children. It was wonderful. I just walked around and tried to pick out words I could understand and smiled a lot.
I realized quickly here that I don't need to speak italian to smile. I have also (re)learned that getting other people to smile is awesome. It's so lovely to see other people smile when I smile at them. Even if we cannot hold a conversation, we can smile at each other and look into each other's eyes. Perfetto.
I must go now and spend time with the lovely Aldo and Andree. I am so happy to be here and I want them to know that.
Baci!
This morning I awoke and decided that I would really try to leave Florence. I called Andree's house and we discussed what trains to take to get to Pontassieve. This small town is about 30 minutes east of Firenze by train. What a differene a half hour makes. The air smells wonderful here, the mountains are beautiful, and it isn't stifling hot like in the city.
Most commercial stores were closed today because it is a national holiday. Today marks the anniversary of when fascism was overthrown in Italy after WWII. Way to go, Italy. After I arrived, we went to a small festival in a nearby town called Pelego. There were many jewelers, organic farmers, and activities for children. It was wonderful. I just walked around and tried to pick out words I could understand and smiled a lot.
I realized quickly here that I don't need to speak italian to smile. I have also (re)learned that getting other people to smile is awesome. It's so lovely to see other people smile when I smile at them. Even if we cannot hold a conversation, we can smile at each other and look into each other's eyes. Perfetto.
I must go now and spend time with the lovely Aldo and Andree. I am so happy to be here and I want them to know that.
Baci!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
So Over It.
Ok, ok, ok - Florence is a nice enough town, but I am ready to hit the road. The architecture is beautiful, the sculptures are captivating, and the night life is hoppin', but, after yesterday's trip to the countryside, I remember why I have trouble in cities. I don't like having to be constantly aware of where the cars are, how fast they're going, or just when the exhaust from their tailpipes is going to approach my nostrils. I feel like I have to hold my breath.
I like breathing.
Last night, Christie, John and I sat out on the rooftop terrace of their hotel and drank two bottles of wine that we bought at the vineyard yesterday. I played some guitar and we talked about God and life and traveling and culture. It was quite refreshing to converse with folks that like to talk about their opinions. I suppose it helps that we hold generally similar views about the controversial stuff...like global warming. (I have spoken with a handful of students here who are still unsure about whether or not to believe in global warming. It is hard for me not to raise my voice when I have to argue the side of global climate change: especially after a glass or two of wine). The three of us giggled our way to dinner at about 20:30 with big, big appetites. We ate a place called Dante's that may or may not have been reccommended to us by a young woman from the bike tour who lives in Firenze. We are still unsure if this was the place she meant for us to go to. Either way, the food was good and we left stuffed. We bought another bottle of wine, had some bruschetta with beans, cheesy mushrooms, pizza, and a greek salad. Yum.
I slept at the hotel and three of us comfortably shared their huge bed. In the morning we gathered out things, they checked out, and we headed for the Duomo. While Booth and John were going into the Duomo, I found the cell phone store and bought a sim card. I'm connected!! This is pretty exciting, but I shudder to think of the .5 euro/minute it costs to dial the states. Luckily, it is absolutely free for anyone in the states to call my phone. If you'd like the number, I'd be happy to share it via email.
After the Duomo and cell phone successes, we headed to the academia to wait in line to see Michaelangelo's David. We waited in the hot sun for almost an hour to get in. Wow, it was worth it; looking at the David gave me butterflies in my stomach. I cannot believe that a man carved David out of a hunk of marble. It is so huge and anatomically accurate and inspiring and wonderful. I love the David. I could probably sit in the academia for an hour a day meditating on the David. Goodness gracious.
Christie and John have left and are on their way to Rome. I considered going along with them, but the first farm I'm going to is north of here. Going to Rome would be molto out of the way. I want to leave Firenze tomorrow and go to Venice or Cinqueterra or anywhere but here. I will have to see if my clothes have dried and if I can find lodging. Staying for free in Firenze is pretty enticing. Pretty enticing indeed. Molly leaves for Greece on Thursday, so I will need to find a place to stay then. I think I could squeeze one or two more nights out of this place. I might have to - and by 'have to', I mean 'decide to, willingly.'
Who knows, maybe the next time I write, I will be in some place new and exciting. I doubt it considerably, but it is definitely a possibility. That would be nice. I am so over Firenze.
Baci!
I like breathing.
Last night, Christie, John and I sat out on the rooftop terrace of their hotel and drank two bottles of wine that we bought at the vineyard yesterday. I played some guitar and we talked about God and life and traveling and culture. It was quite refreshing to converse with folks that like to talk about their opinions. I suppose it helps that we hold generally similar views about the controversial stuff...like global warming. (I have spoken with a handful of students here who are still unsure about whether or not to believe in global warming. It is hard for me not to raise my voice when I have to argue the side of global climate change: especially after a glass or two of wine). The three of us giggled our way to dinner at about 20:30 with big, big appetites. We ate a place called Dante's that may or may not have been reccommended to us by a young woman from the bike tour who lives in Firenze. We are still unsure if this was the place she meant for us to go to. Either way, the food was good and we left stuffed. We bought another bottle of wine, had some bruschetta with beans, cheesy mushrooms, pizza, and a greek salad. Yum.
I slept at the hotel and three of us comfortably shared their huge bed. In the morning we gathered out things, they checked out, and we headed for the Duomo. While Booth and John were going into the Duomo, I found the cell phone store and bought a sim card. I'm connected!! This is pretty exciting, but I shudder to think of the .5 euro/minute it costs to dial the states. Luckily, it is absolutely free for anyone in the states to call my phone. If you'd like the number, I'd be happy to share it via email.
After the Duomo and cell phone successes, we headed to the academia to wait in line to see Michaelangelo's David. We waited in the hot sun for almost an hour to get in. Wow, it was worth it; looking at the David gave me butterflies in my stomach. I cannot believe that a man carved David out of a hunk of marble. It is so huge and anatomically accurate and inspiring and wonderful. I love the David. I could probably sit in the academia for an hour a day meditating on the David. Goodness gracious.
Christie and John have left and are on their way to Rome. I considered going along with them, but the first farm I'm going to is north of here. Going to Rome would be molto out of the way. I want to leave Firenze tomorrow and go to Venice or Cinqueterra or anywhere but here. I will have to see if my clothes have dried and if I can find lodging. Staying for free in Firenze is pretty enticing. Pretty enticing indeed. Molly leaves for Greece on Thursday, so I will need to find a place to stay then. I think I could squeeze one or two more nights out of this place. I might have to - and by 'have to', I mean 'decide to, willingly.'
Who knows, maybe the next time I write, I will be in some place new and exciting. I doubt it considerably, but it is definitely a possibility. That would be nice. I am so over Firenze.
Baci!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Excersize and a View
Oh. My. Gosh. The bike tour today was amazing. John, Boof (aka Booth, aka Boothie, aka Boofie, aka Christie) and I met at 8:45 this morning on the Ponte Santo Trinita. We walked along the river to the meeting spot for the bike tour and left Firenze at about 9:30. A few miles outside of the touristy part of Firenze, we geared up for a challenging bike ride; we put on our helmets, fitted the height of our seats, and loaded our water bottles in their holsters.
We rode only a few blocks and were away from most of the traffic in the city. We were in the tuscan countryside: wow - so, so, so, so beautiful. We biked up and up and up and up the 'hills' of the chianti region. This region of Tuscany is called the chianti region because of the kind of grapes grown from its soil. I can't recall the exact mix of grapes needed to be classified as chianti, but it is very specific.
Our tour guide, Bill (ryhmes with hill), was excellent. He told us about the ways olives are harvested (usually by hand, depending on size), the place where Michaelangelo spent his summers, and about how Dante and DaVinci gained inspiration from the very hills we were traversing. Bill told us some local folklore about DaVinci and his first attempts at flying in a small, mountain town called Fiesole. This village overlooks all of Firenze. After riding up and up and up, we walked up and up and up to a beautiful scenic overlook of the city. We sat there for a while, resting, and learned a few key italian gestures. I feel like I am part of a secret italian club now, although I am definitely not (not yet, anyways).
At this point it was about 12:00 and we had another half an hour bike ride to lunch. This portion of the bike ride was not exactly up, up, up, but it was certainly not down. After another sweat-inducing ride, we arrived at a family-run restaurant near a town called Olmo. At the restaurant (where we were certainly the only ones speaking english), we had red wine from a local vineyard, bruschetta, ravioli with a potato filling, and pasta in red sauce with zucchini. We finished the meal with an espresso, as is course after any big italian meal. It was all delicious: absolutely delicious.
After we sat for a few minutes after the huge meal, we got back on our bikes and took a short ride to a nearby vineyard. We walked through the cellars where the wine is kept in big barrels (holding 10,000 litres of wine - that's 13,333 bottles of wine), in and around where the wine ferments (for 8-10 days with the help of yeast), and out in the beautiful fields where the villa has almond trees, pomogranite bushes (?), and (of course) grape vines. From the beauty of the fields, we got back on our bikes and coasted down, doing the reverse of the earlier up, up, ups. This part was absolutely wonderful. I was breathing deeply, soaking in the view, and loving the break from being in the bustle of the city. The air smelled wonderful and my smile was big.
Now Christie is in the internet cafe with me and taking care of some business. We are about to go back to her hotel to drink the delicious wine we bought at the vineyard today and relax by her rooftop pool. Does it get any better than this?
Love, love, love. Baci
We rode only a few blocks and were away from most of the traffic in the city. We were in the tuscan countryside: wow - so, so, so, so beautiful. We biked up and up and up and up the 'hills' of the chianti region. This region of Tuscany is called the chianti region because of the kind of grapes grown from its soil. I can't recall the exact mix of grapes needed to be classified as chianti, but it is very specific.
Our tour guide, Bill (ryhmes with hill), was excellent. He told us about the ways olives are harvested (usually by hand, depending on size), the place where Michaelangelo spent his summers, and about how Dante and DaVinci gained inspiration from the very hills we were traversing. Bill told us some local folklore about DaVinci and his first attempts at flying in a small, mountain town called Fiesole. This village overlooks all of Firenze. After riding up and up and up, we walked up and up and up to a beautiful scenic overlook of the city. We sat there for a while, resting, and learned a few key italian gestures. I feel like I am part of a secret italian club now, although I am definitely not (not yet, anyways).
At this point it was about 12:00 and we had another half an hour bike ride to lunch. This portion of the bike ride was not exactly up, up, up, but it was certainly not down. After another sweat-inducing ride, we arrived at a family-run restaurant near a town called Olmo. At the restaurant (where we were certainly the only ones speaking english), we had red wine from a local vineyard, bruschetta, ravioli with a potato filling, and pasta in red sauce with zucchini. We finished the meal with an espresso, as is course after any big italian meal. It was all delicious: absolutely delicious.
After we sat for a few minutes after the huge meal, we got back on our bikes and took a short ride to a nearby vineyard. We walked through the cellars where the wine is kept in big barrels (holding 10,000 litres of wine - that's 13,333 bottles of wine), in and around where the wine ferments (for 8-10 days with the help of yeast), and out in the beautiful fields where the villa has almond trees, pomogranite bushes (?), and (of course) grape vines. From the beauty of the fields, we got back on our bikes and coasted down, doing the reverse of the earlier up, up, ups. This part was absolutely wonderful. I was breathing deeply, soaking in the view, and loving the break from being in the bustle of the city. The air smelled wonderful and my smile was big.
Now Christie is in the internet cafe with me and taking care of some business. We are about to go back to her hotel to drink the delicious wine we bought at the vineyard today and relax by her rooftop pool. Does it get any better than this?
Love, love, love. Baci
Sunday, April 22, 2007
A Touch of Home
Yay! Christie Booth is here!
I got a call on Molly's cell phone this morning at about 11 and, much to my delight, Christie Booth was on the other end. Christie is a great friend of mine from high school. She and her boyfriend, John, are going to be here in Florence until Wednesday or so. They have a hotel room about 10 minutes from where Molly lives and soon we will head over there with our bathing suits and a bottle of wine. Apparently the pool is on the rooftop and they have a wonderful view of the city.
Molly, Booth, John and I spent an hour or two in the Boboli Gardens today and boiled, boiled, boiled in the sun. The gardens are beautiful. There are dozens of little shaded paths, open courtyards with beautiful statues, and amazing views of the countryside. We sat on a wall at the top of the gardens for about a half an hour just watching the grass grow and talking about our plans. Tomorrow Booth, John, and I are going on a wine tour of the chianti region. We will ride bikes in the Tuscan countryside, try wine, and eat food. Sounds good to me.
Yesterday was, more than anything else, a day of rest. On friday night, both Molly and I were over-served. We needed yesterday to recuperate. We managed to leave the apartment for a few hours in the middle of the day to get some food and run an errand or two. I got a copy of the Lonely Planet's guide to Italy and a small Italian-English dictionary. My to-do list for Firenze still includes a trip to the cell phone store and the purchasing of some postcards.
Last night Molly and I went to dinner at a restaurant suggested by the Lonely Planet. Good work, Lonely Planet; The Attico Noe was absolutely delicious. We had the rigatoni alle noe and some pomodoro bruschetta. It was all delicious. We topped off the night by getting some gelato (italian ice cream) and listening to a musician on the street.
I wonder if you need a permit to play on the streets here. Maybe I will find out.
Anyhow -- things are still good in this part of the world and in this part of my heart. Firenze is beautiful and so are my friends. What a life to be living!
Baci!
I got a call on Molly's cell phone this morning at about 11 and, much to my delight, Christie Booth was on the other end. Christie is a great friend of mine from high school. She and her boyfriend, John, are going to be here in Florence until Wednesday or so. They have a hotel room about 10 minutes from where Molly lives and soon we will head over there with our bathing suits and a bottle of wine. Apparently the pool is on the rooftop and they have a wonderful view of the city.
Molly, Booth, John and I spent an hour or two in the Boboli Gardens today and boiled, boiled, boiled in the sun. The gardens are beautiful. There are dozens of little shaded paths, open courtyards with beautiful statues, and amazing views of the countryside. We sat on a wall at the top of the gardens for about a half an hour just watching the grass grow and talking about our plans. Tomorrow Booth, John, and I are going on a wine tour of the chianti region. We will ride bikes in the Tuscan countryside, try wine, and eat food. Sounds good to me.
Yesterday was, more than anything else, a day of rest. On friday night, both Molly and I were over-served. We needed yesterday to recuperate. We managed to leave the apartment for a few hours in the middle of the day to get some food and run an errand or two. I got a copy of the Lonely Planet's guide to Italy and a small Italian-English dictionary. My to-do list for Firenze still includes a trip to the cell phone store and the purchasing of some postcards.
Last night Molly and I went to dinner at a restaurant suggested by the Lonely Planet. Good work, Lonely Planet; The Attico Noe was absolutely delicious. We had the rigatoni alle noe and some pomodoro bruschetta. It was all delicious. We topped off the night by getting some gelato (italian ice cream) and listening to a musician on the street.
I wonder if you need a permit to play on the streets here. Maybe I will find out.
Anyhow -- things are still good in this part of the world and in this part of my heart. Firenze is beautiful and so are my friends. What a life to be living!
Baci!
Friday, April 20, 2007
Free, free, free - it's the way to be
I lucked out today. I had one all-expense paid trip to a beautiful little town called Lucca. Lucca's population is about 25,000 and is kept behind 35 ft walls. It is beautiful.
I boarded a bus with a group from Molly's school at 9am and accompanied them on a guided tour of the city. I touched stone that has been in place since the 1st century AD! Wow. After we walked through old churches, climbed to the top of a cathedral, and basked in the warmth of the tuscan sun, we boarded the bus and headed for a villa to eat lunch. This villa is on a beautiful estate in the countryside and dates back to at least the 1600s. We walked quickly through a small portion of the garden to get to the restaurant. This restaurant was once used solely to turn the local olives into olive oil and is now separate from the villa's estate. The meal was excellent. We had red wine, vegetable soup in a bread bowl, rice in fresh olive sauce, potatoes, (people who are not me had some meat), and delicious little chocolate tort, and a zucchini tort. Let me remind you: this was all free for Maggie. We then took a more in-depth tour of the estate. I hope pictures are to come.
Today was a beautiful day and Molly and I are now side-by-side in an internet cafe. We are going to go to dinner in a few minutes. I am still not sure if I will be hungry after that huge lunch. It is 20:00.
__________________________________________________________________
I am so happy that I am not in the states right now. I can't believe all that has happened. Here, I am not constantly reminded of the growing atrocity. I hope that all of you back home are allowing yourselves time to step away from the news. I can't imagine that looking at those images or reading more about it can possibly help matters. Although I have missed the comfort of being close to ones I truly love, I would not go back in time and stay there. I am glad I am here.
I realize that my last entry was a little graphic about my ups and downs so far, but I thought it ended hopefully enough to counteract the negativity. Maybe I was wrong. I want all of you blog-stalkers out there to know that I am doing well. I think you already knew that. I just hope you all are doing well too.
So much Love. Baci
I boarded a bus with a group from Molly's school at 9am and accompanied them on a guided tour of the city. I touched stone that has been in place since the 1st century AD! Wow. After we walked through old churches, climbed to the top of a cathedral, and basked in the warmth of the tuscan sun, we boarded the bus and headed for a villa to eat lunch. This villa is on a beautiful estate in the countryside and dates back to at least the 1600s. We walked quickly through a small portion of the garden to get to the restaurant. This restaurant was once used solely to turn the local olives into olive oil and is now separate from the villa's estate. The meal was excellent. We had red wine, vegetable soup in a bread bowl, rice in fresh olive sauce, potatoes, (people who are not me had some meat), and delicious little chocolate tort, and a zucchini tort. Let me remind you: this was all free for Maggie. We then took a more in-depth tour of the estate. I hope pictures are to come.
Today was a beautiful day and Molly and I are now side-by-side in an internet cafe. We are going to go to dinner in a few minutes. I am still not sure if I will be hungry after that huge lunch. It is 20:00.
__________________________________________________________________
I am so happy that I am not in the states right now. I can't believe all that has happened. Here, I am not constantly reminded of the growing atrocity. I hope that all of you back home are allowing yourselves time to step away from the news. I can't imagine that looking at those images or reading more about it can possibly help matters. Although I have missed the comfort of being close to ones I truly love, I would not go back in time and stay there. I am glad I am here.
I realize that my last entry was a little graphic about my ups and downs so far, but I thought it ended hopefully enough to counteract the negativity. Maybe I was wrong. I want all of you blog-stalkers out there to know that I am doing well. I think you already knew that. I just hope you all are doing well too.
So much Love. Baci
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Another day, another panini
I am sitting in the library of Molly's school here in Florence. Molly is a friend of mine from VT. She is studying art and italian here for the semester. We met in the dorms our first year. We are sharing our conflicted feelings about being so far from Blacksburg right now.
On the traveling saga: The Virgin Atlantic flight left the ground at about 8:15pm and I had one last chance to talk with some friends from Tech. Thomas is glad that I decided to go: all my friends in Blacksburg are. They're all leaving town too.
In my daydreams, this 6.5-hour flight was going to be a perfect opportunity to learn the entire italian language. I even brought a heavy folder filled with worksheets to help me attain my goal. When the time came for my flight, I was feeling little like studying, and more like turning off my brain. I watched two movies. Surprisingly enough, I had a great selection of films to choose from. I watched Little Children with Kate Winslet and Jennifer Connely (for the second time), and part of Emilio Estevez' Bobby. Bobby put me to sleep. Thanks, Emilio. I needed a nap.
The plane landed in London at around 8am (woah time warp!) and I disembarked.
I walked along the storefronts with my guitar on my back and I was feeling pretty stable. I saw a man reading the kind of newspaper with big pictures on the front, cartoonish font, and stories about 'Anna Nicole's secret beauty mark: the full story' that also had pictures of VT on it. I then become strangely obsessed with finding a newstand. I guess I just wanted to make sure it was true in London, or see what kind of world news this is. Then I started crying a little bit - nothing too crazy, just a few tears as images ran through my head. I sat down, collected myself, and got a boarding pass for a flight headed to Milan.
The flight to Milano was pretty uneventful except for the clogging of my left ear. For about 4 hours after the flight, it sounded as if I was still on a plane.
From the Malpensa airport, I took the Malpensa Express to the Cadorna train station in Milan. "Yes," I thought, "although I've been anxious about this part of my trip, I know that I am at the train station and all I have to do is purchase a ticket to Florence. Whew!" When I got to the ticket counter and asked (in perfect italian) for one ticket to Florence, I quickly interjected "in inglese, per favore!" so that I could understand what she was saying to me and why she wasn't printing me a ticket.
I was at the wrong station so I got on the green subway for five stops and got off at Centrale (thank goodness I've had all that subway practice in New York!!). I went up the beautiful stone staircase of the Stazione Centrale and, after only minor troubles, purchased a ticket for Firenze at 17:00. I bought a first class ticket. This was a good idea. At this time it was about 15:30. I had an hour and a half to try to get in touch with Molly to tell her when I was getting in. This part made me kind of nervous.
Either I couldn't get the public telephones to work, or Molly's cell phone was off. So I went up more beautiful stone stairs and sat down next to two young women on the floor. I asked them if they knew about the telephones. They shook their heads. I then spun around and asked the young man next to me if I could use his cell phone. He said it wasn't working. He asked me where I was from. I said Virginia. He said, "oh where all the shooting is." I told him I go to school there. He looked at me with that oh-shit-i-had-no-idea kind of look. I don't know if it was the act of admitting that I go to school at Tech, the fact that I hadn't talked to Molly yet, or the sounds of 3,000 ft above sea level ringing in my ear that did it, but I really started crying.
It wasn't long after the tears started falling and the snot started running that the young man gave me his phone and offered to do anything he could for me. I asked for tissues. After I could blow my nose and try to breath again, I asked Paoli to look after my stuff as I searched for a bathroom. When I was walking out of the bathroom I was feeling like I could really do it again. I realized that even if I didn't talk to Molly, I had her address and I could find a hostel of need be. I got back to Paoli and asked if I wanted to try Molly one more time. I said OK. And yay! I got a Molly! As sure as I was that I could do it without her, it was so nice to know that she was going to be at the train station waiting for me.
I slept for an hour or two on the train (which is kind of too bad because the parts that I could keep my eyes open for were really beautiful: rolling hills, green mountains, goats, and olive trees...). Molly met me at the station, as promised, at 19:45 and we walked to her apartment. I was so distracted by the beauty of Florence that I could not feel the weight of my pack. Maybe I brought too much stuff. It's heavy. (when i was on the subway, i considered sitting on the floor, but decided not to for fear of getting up...or not getting up in time for my stop).
So now I'm in Florence. I made it. I really made it. Last night we ate some pasta and had a glass or two of red wine. The wine helped to calm me down. Who would've known? I had been feeling similarly to how I felt the first time I went to camp. I was scared to be alone and I had no idea what to expect. I don't want what happened in the Milan Central Train station to happen again. That was nuts. Luckily, it worked out and Paoli was willing to let me try his cell phone many, many times. This was probably because I cried like a little baby.
Well I'm dry-eyed now and looking out on the beautiful Firenze sun. The weather is perfect here. I might go to a couple of Molly's classes with her and I think I will go on a field trip with her to Lucca tomorrow. That will be lovely.
I am feelin' good and I just finished a vegetarian panini. It is going to be a good day.
Love.
On the traveling saga: The Virgin Atlantic flight left the ground at about 8:15pm and I had one last chance to talk with some friends from Tech. Thomas is glad that I decided to go: all my friends in Blacksburg are. They're all leaving town too.
In my daydreams, this 6.5-hour flight was going to be a perfect opportunity to learn the entire italian language. I even brought a heavy folder filled with worksheets to help me attain my goal. When the time came for my flight, I was feeling little like studying, and more like turning off my brain. I watched two movies. Surprisingly enough, I had a great selection of films to choose from. I watched Little Children with Kate Winslet and Jennifer Connely (for the second time), and part of Emilio Estevez' Bobby. Bobby put me to sleep. Thanks, Emilio. I needed a nap.
The plane landed in London at around 8am (woah time warp!) and I disembarked.
I walked along the storefronts with my guitar on my back and I was feeling pretty stable. I saw a man reading the kind of newspaper with big pictures on the front, cartoonish font, and stories about 'Anna Nicole's secret beauty mark: the full story' that also had pictures of VT on it. I then become strangely obsessed with finding a newstand. I guess I just wanted to make sure it was true in London, or see what kind of world news this is. Then I started crying a little bit - nothing too crazy, just a few tears as images ran through my head. I sat down, collected myself, and got a boarding pass for a flight headed to Milan.
The flight to Milano was pretty uneventful except for the clogging of my left ear. For about 4 hours after the flight, it sounded as if I was still on a plane.
From the Malpensa airport, I took the Malpensa Express to the Cadorna train station in Milan. "Yes," I thought, "although I've been anxious about this part of my trip, I know that I am at the train station and all I have to do is purchase a ticket to Florence. Whew!" When I got to the ticket counter and asked (in perfect italian) for one ticket to Florence, I quickly interjected "in inglese, per favore!" so that I could understand what she was saying to me and why she wasn't printing me a ticket.
I was at the wrong station so I got on the green subway for five stops and got off at Centrale (thank goodness I've had all that subway practice in New York!!). I went up the beautiful stone staircase of the Stazione Centrale and, after only minor troubles, purchased a ticket for Firenze at 17:00. I bought a first class ticket. This was a good idea. At this time it was about 15:30. I had an hour and a half to try to get in touch with Molly to tell her when I was getting in. This part made me kind of nervous.
Either I couldn't get the public telephones to work, or Molly's cell phone was off. So I went up more beautiful stone stairs and sat down next to two young women on the floor. I asked them if they knew about the telephones. They shook their heads. I then spun around and asked the young man next to me if I could use his cell phone. He said it wasn't working. He asked me where I was from. I said Virginia. He said, "oh where all the shooting is." I told him I go to school there. He looked at me with that oh-shit-i-had-no-idea kind of look. I don't know if it was the act of admitting that I go to school at Tech, the fact that I hadn't talked to Molly yet, or the sounds of 3,000 ft above sea level ringing in my ear that did it, but I really started crying.
It wasn't long after the tears started falling and the snot started running that the young man gave me his phone and offered to do anything he could for me. I asked for tissues. After I could blow my nose and try to breath again, I asked Paoli to look after my stuff as I searched for a bathroom. When I was walking out of the bathroom I was feeling like I could really do it again. I realized that even if I didn't talk to Molly, I had her address and I could find a hostel of need be. I got back to Paoli and asked if I wanted to try Molly one more time. I said OK. And yay! I got a Molly! As sure as I was that I could do it without her, it was so nice to know that she was going to be at the train station waiting for me.
I slept for an hour or two on the train (which is kind of too bad because the parts that I could keep my eyes open for were really beautiful: rolling hills, green mountains, goats, and olive trees...). Molly met me at the station, as promised, at 19:45 and we walked to her apartment. I was so distracted by the beauty of Florence that I could not feel the weight of my pack. Maybe I brought too much stuff. It's heavy. (when i was on the subway, i considered sitting on the floor, but decided not to for fear of getting up...or not getting up in time for my stop).
So now I'm in Florence. I made it. I really made it. Last night we ate some pasta and had a glass or two of red wine. The wine helped to calm me down. Who would've known? I had been feeling similarly to how I felt the first time I went to camp. I was scared to be alone and I had no idea what to expect. I don't want what happened in the Milan Central Train station to happen again. That was nuts. Luckily, it worked out and Paoli was willing to let me try his cell phone many, many times. This was probably because I cried like a little baby.
Well I'm dry-eyed now and looking out on the beautiful Firenze sun. The weather is perfect here. I might go to a couple of Molly's classes with her and I think I will go on a field trip with her to Lucca tomorrow. That will be lovely.
I am feelin' good and I just finished a vegetarian panini. It is going to be a good day.
Love.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
In Florence with Friends
Despite all the reasons I had for not going, I decided to go. I boarded the plane headed for London and I have arrived in Florence. I am currently in a beautiful apartment with brick floors and high ceilings. The four girls who live here were strangers to me just hours ago, and now I have spent beautiful moments with them on their veranda that overlooks the Duomo. The Duomo is a beautiful, gigantic church.
As far as emotional stress goes - I am feeling good right now. I am feeling like I can do this. I made it to Florence.
I should have expected that the Virginia Tech news was going to be all over the world, but when I got to London and saw the headlines I was still shocked; I still had to cry unexpected tears.
Tomorrow I will have access to the internet for a longer amount of time, so I will give a more detailed explanation of what is going on.
So much Love.
As far as emotional stress goes - I am feeling good right now. I am feeling like I can do this. I made it to Florence.
I should have expected that the Virginia Tech news was going to be all over the world, but when I got to London and saw the headlines I was still shocked; I still had to cry unexpected tears.
Tomorrow I will have access to the internet for a longer amount of time, so I will give a more detailed explanation of what is going on.
So much Love.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Rainy, rainy New York City
I'm in Brooklyn and, except for a brief excursion for bagels this morning, I have been inside all day. The rain is pouring, pouring, pouring down. I cannot believe that it has been raining this hard for this long. At least I have a sweet rain jacket (thanks, dad).
Wow, what a tumultuous couple of days in this cold, wet city. I have been sick - and when I say 'sick', I mean really pretty ill. I have been blowing a lot of snot out of my face, trying to cough out the mucus lodged in my chest, and I spent thursday and friday weathering a pretty hot fever. I have had the chest congestion for approximately 4 months and I think I've tried a fair number of potential remedies (that have failed!). I tried: letting it run its course to see if it would go away on its own, abstaining from alcohol or caffeine for almost a month, regular doses of echanacea and vitamin C, rest (maybe I haven't tried this one enough), and, finally, last week I went to a real, live western doctor who prescribed mucinex and an antibiotic. I am arguably sicker than I have been in the past few years.
Have no fear - tomorrow I will go to an acupuncturist and I will get healthy.
I considered changing my flight to later in the week, but this is pretty expensive (at least $300). For some reason, I have a lot of faith that I will be feeling better by the time I board my flight at 7:50pm on Tuesday the 17th.
I will rest. I will drink a lot of fluids. I will try hot and cold compresses. I will, I will, I will get better.
Maybe the cure really is a healthy dose of Mediterranean air.
It's too bad that all I can really think about right now is the sickness brewing inside of me because I really did have a lovely time here in the city with my parents. We went to the Metropolitan, walked the streets of Brooklyn, ate at Counter (a delicious vegetarian restaurant), and had some good coffee talk at the Lodge before they left.
Now I am in Andrew and Gabriel's apartment while the two aforementioned nerds study or read (for fun!). I hope to get a lot of sleep tonight and wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morn. Even if I don't, I have an appointment with an acupuncturist tomorrow at 5:30pm. I will, I will, I will get better.
Despite all my ailments and complaints, I am still sure that going to Italy on Tuesday is a Good Idea. I am, however, open to the possibility that I may not be well enough to make the journey. I will decide then. Either way, I will make it to Italy soon; this country has done little for the restoration of my health and so I must look elsewhere. Italy sounds good.
Wow, what a tumultuous couple of days in this cold, wet city. I have been sick - and when I say 'sick', I mean really pretty ill. I have been blowing a lot of snot out of my face, trying to cough out the mucus lodged in my chest, and I spent thursday and friday weathering a pretty hot fever. I have had the chest congestion for approximately 4 months and I think I've tried a fair number of potential remedies (that have failed!). I tried: letting it run its course to see if it would go away on its own, abstaining from alcohol or caffeine for almost a month, regular doses of echanacea and vitamin C, rest (maybe I haven't tried this one enough), and, finally, last week I went to a real, live western doctor who prescribed mucinex and an antibiotic. I am arguably sicker than I have been in the past few years.
Have no fear - tomorrow I will go to an acupuncturist and I will get healthy.
I considered changing my flight to later in the week, but this is pretty expensive (at least $300). For some reason, I have a lot of faith that I will be feeling better by the time I board my flight at 7:50pm on Tuesday the 17th.
I will rest. I will drink a lot of fluids. I will try hot and cold compresses. I will, I will, I will get better.
Maybe the cure really is a healthy dose of Mediterranean air.
It's too bad that all I can really think about right now is the sickness brewing inside of me because I really did have a lovely time here in the city with my parents. We went to the Metropolitan, walked the streets of Brooklyn, ate at Counter (a delicious vegetarian restaurant), and had some good coffee talk at the Lodge before they left.
Now I am in Andrew and Gabriel's apartment while the two aforementioned nerds study or read (for fun!). I hope to get a lot of sleep tonight and wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morn. Even if I don't, I have an appointment with an acupuncturist tomorrow at 5:30pm. I will, I will, I will get better.
Despite all my ailments and complaints, I am still sure that going to Italy on Tuesday is a Good Idea. I am, however, open to the possibility that I may not be well enough to make the journey. I will decide then. Either way, I will make it to Italy soon; this country has done little for the restoration of my health and so I must look elsewhere. Italy sounds good.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Still in the states
All my bags are packed. I'm ready to go.
...for the most part.
I'm looking out of the big window behind my parent's computer in Rochester, NY and I see winter. There are no leaves on the trees and there is a light dusting of snow on the ground. I am cold. I checked the weather for Florence yesterday: 70 degrees farenheit and sunny. I'm really going there in one week from today. I'm really going to Europe.
I need to lighten my pack. I think that I will take a pair of worn-out (beautiful) flip-flops, my chacos, and a pair of sneakers or boots. I still have to make that big decision between sneakers and boots - sneakers or boots, sneakers or boots, sneakers or boots? I think I'm going to go to the store with Dad in a minute and, if I can find a stupendous pair of sneakers, I just might choose sneakers. Although I realize that I'll be working on farms, I can't imagine a pair of hiking boots being as comfortable as sneakers for as long as I'll need them. Oh gosh - decisions, decisions.
I only need two pairs of pants, right? One pair of jeans and one pair of lighter, cargo pants should do me just find. A part of me wants to bring one more pair of jeans but, c'mon, I know I'm only going to be wearing one of them anyways. The other pair would just take up space in the bottom of my pack.
My pack is heavy enough with my guitar strapped to it. Oh wow, I really decided to bring my guitar - this is big! Maybe if I run out of money, I'll sit on the streets and rake in the dough...I wonder if italians will like my music even if they don't understand the words. I wonder also, if I'll have the balls to sit out on the streets in a foreign country and play music.
Just who am I going to be on this trip? Who will I be when I return? I know, I know, I know that I'll be me. I know that I'll be me, but what new and exciting things are going to be in my head and on my skin and coursing through my breath?
Yes, this is pretty exciting.
...for the most part.
I'm looking out of the big window behind my parent's computer in Rochester, NY and I see winter. There are no leaves on the trees and there is a light dusting of snow on the ground. I am cold. I checked the weather for Florence yesterday: 70 degrees farenheit and sunny. I'm really going there in one week from today. I'm really going to Europe.
I need to lighten my pack. I think that I will take a pair of worn-out (beautiful) flip-flops, my chacos, and a pair of sneakers or boots. I still have to make that big decision between sneakers and boots - sneakers or boots, sneakers or boots, sneakers or boots? I think I'm going to go to the store with Dad in a minute and, if I can find a stupendous pair of sneakers, I just might choose sneakers. Although I realize that I'll be working on farms, I can't imagine a pair of hiking boots being as comfortable as sneakers for as long as I'll need them. Oh gosh - decisions, decisions.
I only need two pairs of pants, right? One pair of jeans and one pair of lighter, cargo pants should do me just find. A part of me wants to bring one more pair of jeans but, c'mon, I know I'm only going to be wearing one of them anyways. The other pair would just take up space in the bottom of my pack.
My pack is heavy enough with my guitar strapped to it. Oh wow, I really decided to bring my guitar - this is big! Maybe if I run out of money, I'll sit on the streets and rake in the dough...I wonder if italians will like my music even if they don't understand the words. I wonder also, if I'll have the balls to sit out on the streets in a foreign country and play music.
Just who am I going to be on this trip? Who will I be when I return? I know, I know, I know that I'll be me. I know that I'll be me, but what new and exciting things are going to be in my head and on my skin and coursing through my breath?
Yes, this is pretty exciting.
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