Saturday night's adventure

I had an awesome week in Florence and I will post another blog about our trip, but this is my account of what happened on Saturday night after our day trip to Siena. A few people from the program and I went to Siena for the day before heading back to Rome, and we had a pretty crazy time trying to get home that night. For creative writing, we had to write a story in first person that had a dilemma, rising action points, and a resolution, and was at least semi-autobiographical. I chose this event, as did most of the other people who endured it with me. This is the piece I wrote for class, with some additions/changes:

“Buona sera, grazie mille,” I thanked the cab driver as I quickly exited the trusty taxi that had just dropped us at the Siena train station. It was a few minutes past nine (21:00, that is) and our six-person gruppo needed to catch the 21:18 if we were going to make it home that night. We had just come from a delicious dinner in Siena that had run a little longer than we had planned, so we were a little pressed for time. [An entertaining side note - the menu at the restaurant was translated into English, but it was done by someone who obviously didn't speak the language, so the menu options were things like "deformed potatoes" "cake to the chocolate to the yard" "potato dumplings of the potato to the jumped asparagus" and "wafer of nuisance"]. Thankfully we made it with a few minutes to spare, and soon we were taking our seats on Saturday’s last Florence-bound train. A sense of relief flooded over the six of us, thankful to be on our way back to Firenze where we could catch a connecting train home. After a week’s stay in Florence, we had spent the day in Siena exploring the beautiful Tuscan hill town, but we had no intention of spending that night anywhere but our apartments back in Rome. With a heavy load of schoolwork to be done by Monday and empty pockets from a week of Florentine leather market perusing (more new purchases! pictures to be put on my italian wardrobe blog!), we felt a sense of comfort knowing that in a few hours we’d finally be back in the Eternal City.

Our train rolled into Florence’s Santa Maria Novella Station just before eleven and we gathered at the end of the platform as Katie, a member of our gruppo, went to double-check departure times. Earlier that day I had jotted down a couple of the latest trains we could take that night, but we hadn’t bought tickets yet because we weren’t sure exactly when we would be back from Siena. A few minutes later, Katie returned with a clearly distressed look. She sighed as she told us, “Guys…the next train isn’t until 6:30 tomorrow morning.” We stared back at her with gaping mouths, shocked that neither of the trains we were counting on would be taking us back to Rome tonight. What in the name of Medici were we going to do?

After a few minutes of evaluating the situation, we decided to make absolutely certain that no train would be leaving for Rome before 6am. One of the few workers still at the station informed us that no, we were out of luck at Santa Maria Novella, but there were night trains running at Campo di Marte, the smaller station across town. The six of us quickly decided that this was our chance, and hastily hailed a cab to the other station. As our taxi sped across Firenze, we waved goodbye to the Duomo and the Florentine facades we had grown to love that week, but were ready to leave.

We pulled up to Campo di Marte, crossing our fingers for a night train to Roma, and sprinted into the station. Our hopes were crushed, however, as we scanned the departure times – the next train home wasn’t until after 7am. Forlornly, we dragged our feet along the platform with no real destination before hearing “Ciao! Ciao!” Having grown accustomed to Italian catcalls, we ignored the greeting until we realized it was coming from two formidably attired carabinieri (federal Italian police who carry machine gun and wear navy blue very formal suits - they're very intimidating) who sternly demanded our passports. We waited nervously as the carabinieri read our information into their radios. I’m sure the same thought was running through all of our heads: paying for a hotel room would have been better than spending the night in a Firenze jail cell!

Thankfully, our passports were returned to us with only a few questions about our travel plans, and when the polizia learned that we were trying to get back to Rome that night, they pointed to a train a few platforms over and told us that it was about to leave for Roma. Frantically the six of us raced over to the train, limbs flailing and luggage dragging in a desperate attempt to make it home. I even dropped my camera and one of my rechargeable batteries went flying and is now lost forever. We had just barely arrived when the station official at the other platform corrected us – this train was going to Naples, not Rome. Personally, I think they told us it was a train to Rome just to see us all run. They yelled "speed! speed!" at us while we were sprinting over there. Thoroughly discouraged and now out of breath, we had to accept our fate. We weren’t making it out of Florence that night.

We stepped out onto the freezing, empty street and gazed around at the quiet store fronts, all boarded up for the night. With no other option, we chose to do the American thing – settle into one of Italy’s many McDonald’s (it's hard to believe, but Italian McDonald's tastes even worse). Open until 4am, this fast food establishment served as our warm haven until we made our decision. Should we pay for a few measly hours in a hotel or tough it out in the cold until the 6:30 train? I really didn't want to pay for a hotel - with the cost of food so far and the really crappy exchange rate, my money has been disappearing at a disturbing rate. As the sole male member of group, Ryan volunteered to venture out and see what he could find out about a cheap place to stay. Soon he returned with an offer we found hard to turn down – a nearby hostel for 22.50 euro per person. Defeated and exhausted, we gave in. It was almost 2am and we weren’t getting home to Roma, no matter how badly we wanted to or how hard we tried.

Though it cost us a collective 135 euro, we made the right choice. The hostel was clean, safe, and more comfortable than I expected, plus it gave us something that resembled a full night’s sleep. The next morning, Katie and I caught a 9:00 train and finally stumbled into our apartments around noon, drained and weary, but exhilarated from a night spent unlike any other before.

Something that I didn't include in my story but I remembered as I was making additions to this blog - that night when we were sitting waiting for a cab, I thought to myself (and then repeated to all the people with me, of course) - we were stuck in Florence, after a day in Siena, waiting to get back to Rome. We could have been in a lot worse situations. Even though it was crazy and royally sucked, it was still an awesome experience and I'm really glad I'm here. Even though I'm rapidly going broke.

More on Florence later!

Saldi

For anyone who's interested, I added another link to my blog. It has pictures of the new stuff I got during the crazy Italian twice-a-year shopping extravaganza called Saldi. I decided to make a whole different blog for it so that those of you who could care less don't have to scroll through tons of pictures.

Groupo

I forgot to post this picture (also stolen from Veneta) - this is the groupo in front of the spectacular view on Aventino. I love our groupo! We have a really interesting, entertaining mix of personalities, and so far we're having a great time here in Roma.

[Another side note! The picture is really small because I posted it differently than the apartment ones so it wouldn't get cut off, but if you click on it, it enlarges the photo.]

Yesterday's long walk

Yesterday was (almost) definitely my favorite day here in Rome so far. The schedule said it would be a "loooooong walk day," but it definitely didn't feel like much of a trek at all. We started the day walking through the Jewish ghetto, a little section of Rome with its own distinctive feeling and smell. On the other side sits the Teatro Marcello, an old theater that has been converted into molto ritzy apartments. The stage area has also apparently been turned into a courtyard-type setup. Lisa told us that only ambassadors and those sorts of important people live there. Our next stop was a little church called San Nicola in carcere (which means "in prison" - if I remember correctly, it was called this because of the role of the church in converting nearby convicts, although someone joked that it meant "Santa Clause in chains"). As soon as I walked through the door, I was overcome with the scent of candles and aging paper. It reminded me very strongly of going to mass in California when I was younger, and I immediately thought of my Nana. I wish so much that she could come to this city and see some of the things I have seen here. As we milled through the small church, a woman approached Lisa and offered us a tour of the basement, where you can see the remains of the three ancient pagan temples that make up the foundation of S. Nicola in carcere. It was like an art history playground down there - the entire basement was a winding pathway lined with tombs, columns or relics cemented into the walls. After the church, our "groupo," as we like to call ourselves, went to Bocca della Verita, the statue most famously known for its role in the movie "Roman Holiday." According to legend, you're supposed to stick your hand in the mouth of the statue and answer a question; if you tell the truth, you emerge without a scratch, but if you lie, your hand is swiftly chopped off. I'll leave it to you guys to ponder whether or not I type one-handed now :). The best part of the whole day came next after a little hike up Aventino Hill to the Garden of Oranges, where I was again hit with the smell of Riverside (which, although it was wonderful, still wasn't the best part). At the edge of the garden is one of the most phenomenal sights I have ever seen - a sprawling view of the western half of the city, including Trastevere, the Tiber, St. Peter's, and Capitoline Hill. It honestly took my breath away. I really wish my family and friends could have been there to see it too and I can't wait until my Dad comes to visit in a couple weeks. Next, Lisa brought us to a spot on Aventino Hill where she had a little surprise in store for us. One by one, we peered through this keyhole that revealed a pathway along a line of ivy covered walls. The circular opening at the end of the pathway perfectly framed St. Peter's in the distance. I stole this picture from Veneta who did the Daily Diary for Long Walk Day (which you guys can read every day on the main blog page at http:// honorsinrome2007winter.blogspot.com!).



You can't see St. Peter's in the picture because of the glare, but you can imagine what a great surprise it was. We ended the day at the Testaccio market, a covered marketplace that reminded me a little of Granville Market in Vancouver, BC. At Testaccio, there are various vendors who sell fruits, vegetables, fish, meat, pastries, etc. This place had some of the best donut holes I've ever tasted, hands down.

It's hard for me to explain how I felt on Long Walk Day. Every phrase I try comes out sounding trite or cliche. All I can really say is that I love being here and I'm trying to find any way I can to share it with everyone I love back home.



[Side note: for anyone who hasn't seen it already, I have a link to my creative writing assignments on my blog. So far there's only two creative writing pieces I've done, and I feel kinda silly about them, but they might be kinda fun for anyone who wants to read.]

Ah!

Whoops again - the neighborhood is spelled Trastevere, not Trastavere. Spacey moment. It's a really neat neighborhood though. Kali and I have discovered a fresh fruit market just around the corner, an American cinema next door, a really good restaurant that is practically downstairs and tons of bakeries and other shops along our street. We even have a playground a block away. There's also a flea market in the neighborhood every Sunday, but we'll have to wait until next week to check that out since Kali and I crashed last night and spent 13 hours sleeping (8pm-9am, solid). I still feel drained though, I've been sick all week and it's progressed from an annoying cough to the knock-me-out sinus congestion stage. Mmmm.

Whoops

Looks like the pictures I posted got kinda cut off on the right. Use your imaginations?

Where Kali and I live!

Here are some pictures of the apartment that Kali and I share in Trastavere, a neighborhood on the west side of the Tiber.
That's the bed that we share. There's only one double bed in the apartment! We don't mind though. It leads to lots of funny stories too, especially since Kali and I are both sleep-talkers.

This is the other side of our main room, where our bed, messy desk, dresser and little couch fit together in a both cozy and spacious way. We're pretty happy with our little apartment.

Here's our hallway. Our apartment is set up so that you enter into a long hallway with doors on the left that lead to our bathroom, kitchen and closet, with the main room at the end of the hall.

Our closet! It's actually a perfect fit for all our stuff since we also have a dresser on the other side of the hall (which you can see in the previous picture).

Our kitchen. It's pretty small, we have very little cabinet space and a tiny little fridge. No microwave either, but we just make our instant oatmeal that Kali brought from home with water boiled on the stove.

This is our bathroom. Like the rest of the apartment, it's a skinny hallway, but for two people it works just fine. Our shower could use a bigger water heater though - it starts getting cold after only 10 minutes or so of shower time.

Here's our tiny little washer! It's in the corner of our bathroom. Almost no one has dryers here. Utilities are really expensive so most people use clothes lines (which we have outside our windows!)

There's me and Kali at the train station. I look a little cheesy but I think she'll like it better than the picture I took of her last night when we were getting ready for bed.

More pictures of outside in Trastavere later!

Our first day! (my daily diary post, also found on the main course blog)

Day One, January 4, 2007:

We kicked off our first day of classes with a tour of the Campo de Fiori, or “Field of Flowers,” the central location of our program and a bustling, incredible marketplace.

Vendors selling goods such as spices and fruits fill this cobblestoned piazza, while the perimeter is lined with restaurants, groceries, and Forno, a delicious bakery where Lisa treated us all to pizza bianca, a tasty piece of bread with a salt and olive oil topping.

Next came a stop on the Ponte Sisto, a pedestrian bridge across the Tiber River (Fiume Tevere) which displays a beautiful view of St. Peter’s Basilica to the north.

We then headed down Via del Giubbonari, a major shopping avenue which, like many other streets in Rome, is strung with festive holiday lights, emanating a cozy, intimate feeling. This street led to the most peculiar aspect of the day, and possibly the strangest thing I’ve seen in my whole life – the cat sanctuary, an enclosed square with grassy hills and rustic ruins where hundreds of stray Roman cats are kept and cared for by the city. In this feline playpen, the 250 or so cats roam freely and appear to be quite happy and well-fed.

A couple blocks further into our mini-tour, we rounded a corner and there stood the Pantheon in a strangely unassuming fashion. The casual manner in which this majestic monument is displayed and treated by many passersby astounded me. No prominent signs advertise its presence, and though its entrance was busy with visitors coming and going, the general attitude of the crowd in the area was one of indifference. However, I think I can safely say I was not the only one in our group moved by this impressive piece of Roman history. As our morning was winding down, we stopped into Tazza d’Oro (Cup of Gold), one of the city’s most prominent cafés. Again Lisa treated us to a delicious Italian refreshment, this time one of the best cups of coffee any of us had ever tasted. Our circular route led us back to our origin, where we wrapped up our walk with a presentation on the Palazzo Pio, the building in which the UW Rome Center is located, before breaking for lunch and siesta.

Sono a London! (but everything on this website is in German)

Terminal 1 of Heathrow Airport is just one big duty free shopping mall. I'm sitting here with Tony, each of us on a red Ikea-esque chair, surrounded by shops selling everything from chocolate to designer shoes. It's been quite a hectic couple days. Tony, Brian and I arrived at SeaTac at 4:30pm on New Year's Eve, jazzed and ready for the night of travel ahead of us, only to discover that our flight was cancelled and that we weren't going to be able to get to Rome until a full 24 hours after our scheduled arrival time. Disappointed, but lucky our passports were still in tact (unlike poor Brian's), Tony and I came back to SeaTac a short 12 hours later and have been traveling ever since. A 3.5 hour flight to Chicago, another 3 hours spent at O'Hare, then a lovely 7 hour jaunt across the Atlantic to London, where I find myself sitting now, paying 5GBP (or $9.86) for internet access to pass the time until our eagerly awaited final leg of this extremely long trip. I feel dirty, exhausted, and drained, but - surprisingly - nowhere near discouraged. I love everything I'm experiencing right now, whether it be the charming British Air flight attendant who called me "love" or the unfailingly hyper Italian toddler who plagued Tony all flight with her unnecessarily noisy mechanical rabbit. I even (sort of) love the delirious, not-quite-all-there mental state I'm in right now due to my mere 3 hours of sleep in the past two days. I'm almost in Rome, and I cannot wait.