Orvieto

For our last class trip (che triste!) we spent a day in Orvieto, a small town north of Rome, in Umbria. Kali and I took a bunch of pictures (more funny ones too of course) and I've got about half of them uploaded so far. This is my last weekend in Rome! In a week I'll be heading off to Spain with Michael and Mary, so this will probably one of my last posts for awhile. Enjoy the Orvieto pics!

A typical Laura Zanzig moment

Six of us went to Venice this past weekend, and I was in charge of the hotel reservations. I got into contact with a place that Kali and I found in her guide book, Hotel Rossi, which was along the Grand Canal, a short walk from the train station, and looked like a good place to stay. In making the reservations I exchanged several emails with the hotel administrator, confirming that we had two triples for Saturday, the 24th.

We arrived at Treviso Airport, where we took a bus into Venice. From where we were dropped off in Piazzale Roma, we found our way easily to the hotel, only about a five minute walk. Everything was going smoothly and we walked into the cozy albergo with confidence. As I told the concierge my name, his brow furrowed and he shook his head.

"There is no reservation by that name," he shrugged in apology.

"That can't be right," I replied. "I made the reservation, I got a confirmation the other day."

He looked back down at the book and I noticed he was looking at the 23rd, which his coworker then pointed out to him: "Ventiquattro, non ventitre." Relieved, I peered over the counter to look at the reservations on the 24th, but my name wasn't listed on that page either.

"I didn't print it out, but I have the confirmation in my email," I told him, positive that he was making a mistake. He beckoned to the computer and told me I was welcome to check my inbox. I pulled up the email and pointed to the screen.

"Yes," he began slowly, "but this is for March. March 24, not February."

I looked down and gasped in horror. He was right - the words were right there in front of my face. "Miss Zanzig, this is to confirm your two triples for the night of March 24th, Saturday." How could I be so completely scatterbrained?

The other girls forgave my stupidity, even though the concierge told us he had no vacancies. Luckily, we found several openings at other nearby hotels and after comparing prices, we decided on a good deal in a very nice albergo just a couple blocks away.

The rest of our stay was fantastic. The first day, we shopped for a few souvenirs and then wandered the city. I felt completely refreshed - for the entire afternoon, I had no idea what time it was or exactly where we were, either. Today we took a busboat ride down the Grand Canal and then spent some time around San Marco with the pigeons. This has been my best weekend yet, and I put pictures on Yahoo!

FOOD

I've had some excellent food in Italy, but I'm seriously missing stuff from back home. I want:
-tortillas and/or tortilla chips
-Mexican food in general
-Thai food too!
-real Diet Coke
-oatmeal (I think Kali and I ran out of our stash)
-Dick's hamburgers
-bagels
-my mom's smoothies
-chicken (I've had some here but definitely not as much as I did at home)
-Sour Patch Kids
-PANCAKES, waffles, other breakfast food
-Washington apples
-graham crackers
-Funfetti cake mix cookies
-American pizza. I know it's not authentic or whatever, but I like it better. Although, I did enjoy this pizza very much:
Brian took this picture of me at Pizza Re, a pizzeria that Lisa took us to after we went to Villa Borghese. It had excellent crust, but my issue with Italian pizza is the cheese situation - a lot of places do this "fior di latte" thing, which is like little pieces of mozzarella and then this weird liquidy stuff. Non mi piace.

Don't worry though - when my dad came and visited, he brought me another jar of peanut butter, so I'm still doing alright on that front.

Link to my pictures

Ok, so I finally got all my pictures loaded! They don't all have captions yet so a lot of stuff is unlabeled. Let me know if the link doesn't work for some reason.
(PS - to anyone with Facebook, the pictures are all pretty much the same, sorry to be boring!)

http://www.photos.yahoo.com/laurazanzig2005

Enjoy!

Che disaster.

Wow. What a few days. I just got back from Naples and Pompeii and even though I had a wonderful time, there were some pretty funny setbacks, starting with the very beginning of the trip.

I woke up on Thursday morning with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed as I scrambled for my alarm clock. I knew I was late - the sun was shining much too brightly and I felt way too refreshed for it to be only 7am. Just as I thought, the clock read 8:59, exactly 32 minutes after my train had left for Naples, taking my professor and all the rest of my classmates with it. How had this happened?!

Very eager for a much-needed break from Rome, I had gotten completely packed the night before, even bagging up my breakfast so that I was all ready for the trip to Napoli. Kali had already fallen asleep - unlike me, she functions better in the morning and decided to finish her packing and homework early on Thursday before we left. As I climbed into bed around one, I set the alarm for 7am, checking it twice before turning out the light. I knew that Kali was leaving at 6:30 to post her assignment, so I was on my own to wake up and get to Termini Station to meet Lisa and the rest of the gruppo at 8 for our train. I vaguely remembered hearing Kali rise at the ungodly hour of 4:45, but I had fallen right back asleep to the sounds of her shoving clothes into her duffel. Now it was nine, and I was running around my apartment, shouting and swearing as I frantically got dressed and out the door.

I sprinted down the three flights of stairs to our entryway and as I stepped outside, I saw that it was absolutely pouring. At home in Seattle I never carry an umbrella, but this was ridiculous. There was no way I could make it more than a block without getting drenched, so I ran back up the stairs and grabbed one of the awkwardly huge umbrellas that Kali and I had found in our closet.

As I ran to the tram a couple blocks away, I considered my options. Kali had taken our apartment cell phone that morning, so I had no way to reach Lisa unless I went to the Rome Center first (a side note: even if I did have the phone, I couldn't have called Lisa anyway - Kali and I have been too lazy to add minutes to our cell, so we currently only have emergency call capability). Even though going to the Rome Center would add an extra fifteen-ish minutes onto my trip to the train station, I decided it was the best plan, especially seeing as how I had no idea where the hotel even was in Naples. I exited the tram and jogged to the UWRC where Kate the ever-helpful intern let me call Lisa and looked up the hotel address and train times for me. By this time it was about 9:30, and Lisa was relieved to hear that I wasn't dead, just a complete idiot who somehow turned off her alarm instead of getting up on time. I told her I would catch the 10:25 fast train (27 euro out of my pocket!) which got me to Napoli Centrale a few minutes before noon. I thanked Kate and headed back towards the bus stop, where the #40 bus was pulling away just as I ran up onto the platform. Luckily another bus arrived only a few minutes later and I climbed on and settled into the first empty seat.

After I sat down, I looked around for the ticket stamping machine. Both the 40 and 64 buses are prime targets for ticket checkers because they see such frequent use, and I wasn't about to be caught without a valid ticket, which gets you a 100 euro fine (unless you have enough cash to pay on the spot - then it's only 50). I didn't see the machine anywhere so, grumbling to myself, I made my way up the bus to the machine in the front. Once I stamped my ticket, I realized that I had forgotten my umbrella in my seat in the back, which of course had already been taken by another passenger. I reached across her, grabbed my dripping umbrella, and as I straightened back up, I saw the bright yellow validation machine which had been 6 inches from the back of my head the whole time. Perfect.

We pulled up to Termini at 10:05, giving me 20 minutes to buy my ticket and board the train at a somewhat leisurely pace. The first biglietti machine I tried was dysfunctional (of course), but I had my ticket in hand and was standing in front of platform 9 by 10:15. I looked down the platform and didn't see a train, which I thought was odd for a departure time that was only ten minutes away. I decided I'd just hang out there until it arrived, but after a few minutes of standing and waiting, I felt a little impatient. I looked up at the clock and back at the platform, ready to roll my eyes at the tardy train, until I realized that it was already sitting where it should be, at binario 9. The empty track was platform 8, one to the left. At this point, I began to wonder if I had lost my mind.

The train ride itself was pretty relaxing. I listened to my music and read a little of "Holidays On Ice," the David Sedaris book that Jane got me for Christmas, which, by the way, is hilarious. For some reason, we made a couple random stops in the middle of the countryside, the reason for which I never learned, but other than that it went smoothly. We arrived in Naples around 12:15 (20 minutes late! After I paid an extra 13 euro to get there in an hour and a half!) and now it was time for me to decide how to find Albergo Degas, where we were staying that night. When Kate and I had looked up the address, we found directions on how to take the Metro or the bus to the hotel, but since I had arrived 20 minutes later than I planned and I didn't have a map, I decided to just take a taxi, even though it was undoubtedly much more expensive. I was hoping to make it to the hotel by 12:30, when the gruppo was meeting for lunch at a pizzeria called Di Matteo.

I ended up at Albergo Degas at about 12:35 - the pouring rain worsened the already intense traffic in Naples. The hotel wasn't exactly easy to find, on the third level of an apartment building tucked back in a corner of Piazza del Gesu, but once I made it up the three flights, the woman at the front desk was there to greet me.

"You are room 304," she said with a smile. "You call this number." She handed me a piece of paper with Lisa's cell number before turning down the hall and leading me to my room. I set down my luggage and thanked her, then picked up the phone to call Lisa. The laminated sheet next to the phone told me to make an outgoing call, I was supposed to dial "41" and then the number, but I was answered only with a strange beeping. After a few unsuccessful tries, I went up to the front desk where she told me that I was unable to use their line.

"You have no phone?" came her incredulous question as I shrugged and shook my head. I told her that I wanted to just try to find the pizza place instead and asked her if she knew where it was. She made a call to a coworker who told her it was on Via Tribunali, a street that she told me was close by.

Here's how the conversation went in her attempt to explain its location to me:
Clerk: Go out of here and to...to... [gestures to her left]
Me: The left?
Clerk: Yes, yes! Left. And then the street, it goes [gestures both up and to her right]
Me: ...Right?
Clerk: Uhmm no, it is..you go down and then you go [gestures up]
Me: Up?
Clerk: Yes! Up. That street, to the Duomo. Not far.

I didn't feel like these directions were quite sufficient, so I asked her for a map. For a few minutes, she dug around in her drawers before finally pulling out a Naples guidebook, which she flipped through for another several minutes looking for the correct page. Finally she pointed out Via Tribunali to me, so I thanked her and headed back out into the downpour.

For an hour I walked up and down Via Tribunali without success. It's not too long of a street, maybe only 10 blocks length, but once I had made it from the hotel to Tribunali, then down to where the street ends at Castel Capuano, around the castle, and finally back up again, it was almost a quarter to 2. I knew the class was reconvening at the hotel at 2:30 for afternoon class, so I grabbed a slice of pizza from a street vendor and went back to Albergo Degas. [Later I found out I had passed Di Matteo twice, but the restaurant looks just like a little vendor from the outside so I had overlooked it.] No more than ten minutes had passed when Lisa and the class arrived back at the hotel and I ran out to greet them. Everyone felt much better; I wasn't dead or mugged! Kali felt horrible for leaving me, even though it really wasn't her fault at all, but she summed up the morning with one phrase - "che disaster." Luckily, I had made it there in time to see the Museo di Capodimonte, which I have decided is going to be my summer home. It's a beautiful palace in northern Naples that used to be the Farnese family's hunting lodge but has been turned into a great art museum. I'll post pictures of it when I upload them - Lauren and I were enchanted.

The rest of my stay in Naples was great - good food and good sights, including an awesome view of Mt. Vesuvius across the water down by Castel Nuovo (also more pictures I will post later). Like Rome, the city could be overwhelming. There's tons of honking and it's much dirtier than the other Italian cities I've been to, but overall I really enjoyed Napoli.

Pompeii was incredible. I knew it was huge but I didn't realize I could spend 5 hours walking around it and still miss tons of stuff. I took lots of pictures there as well. I'm hoping to get all my pictures uploaded onto Yahoo or something, but our internet here is so ridiculous that I've had trouble. I'll post the link when I do.

It feels nice to be back but I really liked being in a different place for a few days. I wouldn't say I've gotten sick of Rome, but I've been wanting to see new things and this trip was an excellent way to do that. Hopefully I'll be in Venice next weekend with Kali and whoever else wants to join. Pictures soon!

A little on Florence

I just realized I said earlier that I would post another blog about our trip to Florence, so I'll give you all a brief synopsis of how we spent our time.
We stayed at the Albergo Firenze, a cute little hotel that was perfectly comfortable and clean, a surprise to us since Lisa had warned us more than once that the place really earned its two star rating. Florence feels very different than Rome - its streets are wider, as are the cobblestones, which makes for easier transportation. Instead of the constant barrage of motorini, the preferred mode of transportation is by bicycle, complete with carrier basket in the front. Florence is much smaller than Rome as well. On most days we walked from one end of town to the other more than once. We spent our mornings in class, focusing on Renaissance art and the Medici family, and had afternoons generally free, giving us time to do our readings and daily assignments (as well as spend a hefty amount of time in the leather market, as you can see on my Italian wardrobe blog). Over the week, we visited several important Florentine sights, including the Uffizi, which holds one of the most impressive collections of art in the world, the Museo dell'Academia, where Michelangelo's "David" is located, the famous Duomo, Santa Croce, a church which holds the tombs of Michelangelo, Galileo, Dante and Machiavelli,and the Palazzo Vecchio, which housed the Medici family during their years of power in Florence.

I was freezing the entire time in Florence. On our first day, it poured on us as we walked back from Santa Croce, and when we got back to the hotel, Katie and I soaked our feet in the tub to regain feeling. This is a picture Lauren took of our feet-warming endeavor. The water wasn't even that hot, our feet were just such icicles that it was pretty intense trying to warm them up. It didn't rain much more that week, but the temperature up north was significantly lower than back home in Rome.

We had some amazing food in Florence, and in Tuscany in general. One night at dinner, Lisa ordered this steak that was coated in balsamic vinegar and it was one of the most fantastic things I've ever tasted. We even got a picture to remember it by. YUM. Every meal was delicious though, way more flavorful than the overpriced, touristy restaurants that dominate the area around the Campo de'Fiori.

My favorite part of Florence was the Arno River. Its color is a little strange, this unnatural, murky shade that I guess I would call turquoise? But it's still beautiful, especially because of the gorgeous building facades and the rows of bridges visible when you glance up and down the river. Underneath is a really cool picture that Katie took of the Arno. I love this shot! Well done, Furia.


It was a really fun week and I loved Florence, despite the fact that I was plagued by a prickly cold feeling the whole time. I solved that problem with my new gloves and scarves anyway. Oh, one more notable thing to mention about Florence - the gypsies. On our very first day, within an hour of arriving, we were seriously harassed by a teenage gypsy in Piazza della Republica while Lisa attempted to give us a intro lecture on the Medici. Let me tell you, this girl was persistent. She wove in and out of our gruppo, shaking her cup of coins and asking each of us for money at least twice, probably more. I'm pretty sure Lisa was contemplating physically removing her from the area, with good reason.

So that was my trip. It was a lot of fun, and I was really glad I got to take my dad back to visit these places last weekend. Naples next week! I'll try to post something about that in a more timely fashion.

Halfway

Today is February 9th, which means that my program is already halfway over. In a month, I’ll say goodbye to Rome - my one bed apartment in Trastevere, fragola gelato, weaving through cobblestoned alleys between catcalling Italian men and ceaseless motorini. There are some things that I’ll be glad to bid arrivederci, and others I know I’ll pine for once I get home (mmm, fresh squeezed blood-orange juice).

I don’t think I could ever live in Rome. It’s an amazing place to study, with ancient ruins or ornate basilicas at every corner, but it’s not somewhere I would exactly call inviting. Walking through the city is a constant game of strategy – if your path isn’t blocked by another pedestrian, it’s surely obstructed by a tiny Euro-car that created its own parking spot, an impatient motorist, or, worse, a pile of dog droppings. Romans aren’t overly friendly either, especially the pushy, hostile old ladies who insist that they should be allowed to cut me in the supermercato line just because they only have one item.

Despite the drawbacks, I really have loved my time in Rome so far. I’ve had some experiences here that I couldn’t have anywhere else. A couple weeks into our program, Makyia and I got lost on our way home one night. After wandering ten minutes in the opposite direction of the Campo de’Fiori, we finally got our bearings and headed back the correct way. Soon, we rounded a corner and stumbled upon, strangely enough, the Pantheon. This monument is somewhat hidden - a couple blocks length off the closest main drag, without any major indication of its presence until you’re actually in it - so it’s pretty surreal the first few times you just happen to come across it. Even weirder is the fact that once we found it, we knew exactly how to get home. Another thing I’ll miss once I’m back in Seattle is using two thousand year old ancient monuments as reference points.

At this halfway point, how I’m feeling is perfect. I’ve started to find comfort in things here, like my apartment, the Campo, or the friends I’ve made through this program. Two weekends ago, at the end of our hectic return from Florence, Katie and I stepped out of Termini station and felt relieved to be back in this city that has become our pseudo-home. I’ve started to form little routines too – how I get ready in the morning, where I keep my keys, what time of day Kali and I stop by the smiling vendor who has become “our guy” at the fruit and veggie market a block from our apartment. And that’s not saying I’ve gotten bored at all. There’s always something else to discover here, and the more that I go running, the more I get to know the city outside of the main arterials that we frequent. Yesterday’s jog took me up a hill in Trastevere to an impressive lookout point where the lucky Spanish Embassy has some prime real estate.

I have started to feel a little homesick at times. I miss my friends and family, free water at restaurants, real Diet Coke. [For the record, Coca Cola Light is a joke.] I also miss grocery stores that are open past 8pm! But for the most part, I’m quite content where I am. Next week we go to Naples, probably Pompeii that weekend and Venice a few weekends later. Then it will be March and our program will be over, although I’ll be traipsing around in southern Spain with M&M for a couple more weeks before finally heading home. I’m not sure if I’ll be ready, but I will be very happy to see everyone again :)

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.