Congratulations, you are now all experiencing the most consistant updating I've done in a long long long time. Once a day, for 2 days, well done.
Anyway, Today (and I capitalize for emphasis) is the 29th of April. In exactly one month at approximately this same time, I will be on a plane headed back for the Philadelphia International Airport. I have less than 1 month to finish all the things that I want to do in Siena, we have a week of frolicking and merrymaking (I've really just wanted to use those two in one sentence for the longest time) after school lets out. On the 22nd we depart for Rome and Capri, Naples and Assisi, and a whole bunch of other lovely warm things in the South where I will hopefully be able to bust out the sundresses, skirts, and shorts that I brought with me. Either way, I have begun to feel the slow crushing grip of time, it feels like only yesterday that we got here. I know that these next few weeks will fly by, and I'm really going to genuinely miss it. Granted, I miss you all at home, but when will I ever have this opportunity to live like this again? I'm quite cozy in my little spot here, and I'm pretty attached to the country and the location (although my dream is to live in Venice. Oh, Venice!!) I have to come back out here, I hope I can work something out soon, very soon, borderline immediately.
On to the visitations. Two weekends ago I went to Rome to meet up with the one and only Brooke. I skipped my later class, and thankfully the professor didn't have any problem with me not being there. Either way, I was on a bus at 2 heading out to Rome. 3 1/2 hours later, I was in Rome, standing quite confused and lost-looking outside the train station (of which there are two). Now, I knew that my hostel was a straight shot out from the Termini Train Station, but I was fairly certain that that was not where I was. And I was doubly certain that I did not want to walk from Train Station 1 to Train Station 2 with no idea where I was going. So I purchased a map, like the logical little thing I am. Now, realizing exactly where I was, I was even more determined to not walk, the roads on the map are littered with hotel names and arrows and who knows what else, pretty much rendering the map useless. A good €5 waste. I thought to myself, "Well self, you can take the subway, but really you have no idea where you are going, or where you should get off, and perhaps it would be nicer to take a taxi." Oh, brilliance!! I walked, equally confused, equally lost, up to the taxi line. I have perfected at this point the "Oh dear, I am so very lost and innocent, won't someone please take care of me?" look in Italy. Normally this works fairly well, because honestly, I just don't want to deal with taxi drivers.
Anywho, I got into the cab, told the man where I would like to go, and off we went. Little did I know, that I had chosen the most confused taxi driver in all of Italy. He got lost. He had a GPS, and he got lost. Not just "I want your money, so I'll 'get lost'" lost, I mean, "got out of the car and asked for directions" lost. I was astounded. About €10 later, which is 10 times more than what I would have paid for a 75 minute subway ticket, I was outside the hostel, completely flustered. Up the stairs I went, into the main room, and saw that I was alone. I asked the man behind the desk if my friend had checked in yet, which she hadn't. So I checked in, paid my half of the bill, got the key, and unloaded my stuff. I ate a ham sandwhich, which my host mother had packed me. I looked out the window, which was chained shut. I chatted with an Australian in the room who was applying fake tanner. And then I headed back outside when I heard a very familiar wonderfully American tinged with Brit voice. Brooke had arrived!! We signed up for free pasta that evening, finished half settling in, chatted a little bit more with said Australian, and went to the kitchen when the large Italian woman bellowed "Pasta!" It was ok pasta, as far as pasta goes, not the best I've ever had, but I've been spoiled. After, we went for a walk to get some gelato, and to just see what was around our neck of the woods. At about 10ish we headed back to the hostel, and pretty much just passed out.
The next day we woke up early, took showers, ate a quick bowl of Cocoa Crispies, and then headed out on our super tourist day. We saw: The Colloseum, the Roman Forum, the 5th Avenue of Rome, Augustus' house, ate authentic pizza and ice cream, visited the Spanish Steps, where we met up with Mike, and the Trevi Fountain. After all that, we even went to a rugby game, which, unfortunately, I still don't understand. After, we were going to dye bits of my hair blue, but no where in italy sells blue hair dye. The buggers. We ate in a lovely little Chinese restaurant, which was really quite fantastically good. After that, we crashed at home and were out cold by about 10.
The next day we only had a bit of time to wander. We checked out and dropped off our bags at the train station. We walked around a bit, and ended up getting a smidgeon lost. But in our lostitude, we saw the Pantheon, as well as the giant Piazza Veneziano (or something along those lines). We got back in time for Brooke to catch a train to the Rome Fiumincino Airport, and for me to catch the subway to the bus station. I ran into Mike and family while on my way to the station, and we all went together to wait. We then hopped back on the bus, another 3 1/2 hours later we were back in Siena. Thus ended the magnificent weekend in Rome.
Join us next time for: Venice, my favorite place on earth.
A presto, tutti.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Irrational Fears
Irrational fears. They're a beautiful thing, because really and truly, no one can telly you it's stupid to have that fear, because it's in the title. An irrational fear is something that people look at you strangely for, or that you can't justify, it just scares the pants off of you. Like being afraid of peaches.
Anywho, I thought I would take this moment to recount a few of my irrational fears, mainly because during this weekend in Venice (of which there will be a post, and gosh darn it there'll be one on Rome, too) I got the pleasure of reliving one of my irrational fears.
This weekend, in Venice, we decided to visit the church of Saint Rocco, no, not the wallaby, the Saint of Plague Victims (crummy job, if you ask me. I'd rather be the Saint of Delicious Cakes or Saint of Really Shiny Objects). Anyway, so we went into this church, and there's a bunch of altars and such and Richard gives his spiel and we go on our merry way looking at what we want to and splitting up. So we wander around, I've done my lap, seen what I want to see, so I camp out in the main area to wait around for the others. I see Mike, and I had seen Jane a little before, but I haven't seen Richard or Viv. Then I realize I haven't seen Jane in a while, but wait, there's Mike over there, looking at a book. Then there's no Mike anymore. I'm on my own. I look around frantically in the nave, there's no one there. I head over towards the pews. No one. To the side altars. Nothing. I come back to the main room, I still see no one, and I'm having a complete internal meltdown. They've left without me, how could they leave without me, there's only 4 of us, they couldn't have just left, they would know that I'm gone, how could they leave without me?? I tried to calm myself down. Okay, go check outside, if they're not out there, then you've definitely been left. So I wander outside the front doors, trying to hold in my hysteria. And there, right outside the door, smiling and laughing in a little circle, is the group. Waiting. Now, here is the series of emotions that ran through my head "THANKGODTHEY"REHERE, they intentionally left me in there and knew I would freak out, ANGERANGER, but they didn't know I would freak out, OVERLOADOFEMOTIONS one step short of tears." So I went back to the hotel. Collapsed on my bed. Attempted to write a little bit, was too upset, and decided to walk around and shop. Hint: Shopping can in fact calm someone down, because it is so mundane and so normal, that it's impossible to be overly terrified of anything.
Anyway, irrational fear 2. The dark, specifically being alone in it. I attribute this mostly to the fact that I have an overactive imagination. I'm afraid of large dark rooms where I can't see anything, and I like having a little bit of the blinds cracked so there's some outside light coming in. I woke up in the middle of the night in my single room in the hotel in a panic not knowing where I was or what was around me. It was a freaky moment.
Well, we're up to 2 irrational fears, and honestly I've lost a little steam in this discussion. Maybe we'll explore later. But, on next week's show, expect some Venice and Rome.
Rock steady. A presto.
Anywho, I thought I would take this moment to recount a few of my irrational fears, mainly because during this weekend in Venice (of which there will be a post, and gosh darn it there'll be one on Rome, too) I got the pleasure of reliving one of my irrational fears.
This weekend, in Venice, we decided to visit the church of Saint Rocco, no, not the wallaby, the Saint of Plague Victims (crummy job, if you ask me. I'd rather be the Saint of Delicious Cakes or Saint of Really Shiny Objects). Anyway, so we went into this church, and there's a bunch of altars and such and Richard gives his spiel and we go on our merry way looking at what we want to and splitting up. So we wander around, I've done my lap, seen what I want to see, so I camp out in the main area to wait around for the others. I see Mike, and I had seen Jane a little before, but I haven't seen Richard or Viv. Then I realize I haven't seen Jane in a while, but wait, there's Mike over there, looking at a book. Then there's no Mike anymore. I'm on my own. I look around frantically in the nave, there's no one there. I head over towards the pews. No one. To the side altars. Nothing. I come back to the main room, I still see no one, and I'm having a complete internal meltdown. They've left without me, how could they leave without me, there's only 4 of us, they couldn't have just left, they would know that I'm gone, how could they leave without me?? I tried to calm myself down. Okay, go check outside, if they're not out there, then you've definitely been left. So I wander outside the front doors, trying to hold in my hysteria. And there, right outside the door, smiling and laughing in a little circle, is the group. Waiting. Now, here is the series of emotions that ran through my head "THANKGODTHEY"REHERE, they intentionally left me in there and knew I would freak out, ANGERANGER, but they didn't know I would freak out, OVERLOADOFEMOTIONS one step short of tears." So I went back to the hotel. Collapsed on my bed. Attempted to write a little bit, was too upset, and decided to walk around and shop. Hint: Shopping can in fact calm someone down, because it is so mundane and so normal, that it's impossible to be overly terrified of anything.
Anyway, irrational fear 2. The dark, specifically being alone in it. I attribute this mostly to the fact that I have an overactive imagination. I'm afraid of large dark rooms where I can't see anything, and I like having a little bit of the blinds cracked so there's some outside light coming in. I woke up in the middle of the night in my single room in the hotel in a panic not knowing where I was or what was around me. It was a freaky moment.
Well, we're up to 2 irrational fears, and honestly I've lost a little steam in this discussion. Maybe we'll explore later. But, on next week's show, expect some Venice and Rome.
Rock steady. A presto.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Little Balls of Anger
... That's what's in my calves right now. This past weekend we went to the Cinque Terre, a strip of five tiny coastal towns built into the valleys of mountains. Needless to say, it was gorgeous, since everything in Italy has been thus far.
One of the major things to do in the Cinque Terre, besides lie on the beach (it was too cold anyway), is to hike from one town to the next, something that can be accomplished easily in one day. Being the active young students that we are, of course we decided to do it. Why bother going all the way out there and not at least attempt? Around 11am we headed out from the first town, Riomaggiore, which was where our seaside apartment was (also amazing, you could hear the ocean throughout the entire building and see the marina from our front window. Also, our house is on most of the postcards that you can find of Riomaggiore. Sweeeeet!!!). The first part is called Via Dell'Amore, Lover's Lane. In all honesty, this part of the trip was a joke. Practically perfectly flat, no issues whatsoever. What we did not know is that you have to pay to walk from one town to the next, a 5 euro cost that was completely pointless. These people must be making a fortune off of all the people who want to walk here. It's insane. Via Dell'Amore was literally jampacked with tourists, they had to have made millions just in that day. Anyway, enough with the rant. We got to the next town shortly thereafter, since the hike was both short and easy. However, the normaly trail from Manarola (town 2) to Corniglia (town 3) was closed for repair. There were two options, either take the free shuttle from M to C, or hike up a mountain and down again to get there. Guess which one we chose? You guessed it, the mountain.
I have never seen so many stairs in my life. We must have walked up hundreds upon hundreds of stairs. The sun was shining, the wind was blowing gently, and there was a neverending line of stairs leading into forever. Turn the corner, more stairs. Turn another, more stairs. Turn again, no stairs but an upward ramp. My legs hated me. Either way, we got up to the town whose name at the moment I can't recall, but starts with something like a V and probably means "holy crap you climbed a lot of stairs to get here." We sat for a few minutes, gulping down water and sweating up a storm, then decided to head on to Corniglia. The scenery was beautiful, I haven't seen anything like it. There are these sheer drops that go down in giant steps to the ocean (this country has an obsession with steps) covered in grapevines. It was gorgeous. Once at Corniglia we took a quick lunch break, then forged on our way.
Unfortunately, somewhere in the wilderness and stairs I lost my ticket, or Jane's ticket, we're not really sure who lost what. They also check the tickets at every town to make sure you aren't gipping them out of the money they stole from you. Jane thankfully talked us through that point, and the one following. The walk between Corniglia and Vernazza was less strenuous, just exceedingly long. I don't remember much of Vernazza, all I know is I got some delicious gelato there.
The last stretch, now pushing well into hour 4 of just hiking, was ridiculous. Again with the stairs, first going up, then going down, the sun was starting to go behind the clouds so it became chilly, the ground was wet and slick from the rain the night before, and the trail was so narrow at some points that you had enough room for one person to shuffle past. One step to the left and you were off the mountain. It was fantastic.
By the time we were done, we had been gone for about 6 hours, and had hiked for a good 5. We were tired, sweaty, and probably smelled horrid, but it felt like such an accomplishment to actually make it all the way across, something that most people just don't do. We caught a train back to the first town, a ride that lasted all of 20 minutes. I think I ordered the biggest dinner of my life, and we all pretty much just collapsed at the end of the day.
A presto.
One of the major things to do in the Cinque Terre, besides lie on the beach (it was too cold anyway), is to hike from one town to the next, something that can be accomplished easily in one day. Being the active young students that we are, of course we decided to do it. Why bother going all the way out there and not at least attempt? Around 11am we headed out from the first town, Riomaggiore, which was where our seaside apartment was (also amazing, you could hear the ocean throughout the entire building and see the marina from our front window. Also, our house is on most of the postcards that you can find of Riomaggiore. Sweeeeet!!!). The first part is called Via Dell'Amore, Lover's Lane. In all honesty, this part of the trip was a joke. Practically perfectly flat, no issues whatsoever. What we did not know is that you have to pay to walk from one town to the next, a 5 euro cost that was completely pointless. These people must be making a fortune off of all the people who want to walk here. It's insane. Via Dell'Amore was literally jampacked with tourists, they had to have made millions just in that day. Anyway, enough with the rant. We got to the next town shortly thereafter, since the hike was both short and easy. However, the normaly trail from Manarola (town 2) to Corniglia (town 3) was closed for repair. There were two options, either take the free shuttle from M to C, or hike up a mountain and down again to get there. Guess which one we chose? You guessed it, the mountain.
I have never seen so many stairs in my life. We must have walked up hundreds upon hundreds of stairs. The sun was shining, the wind was blowing gently, and there was a neverending line of stairs leading into forever. Turn the corner, more stairs. Turn another, more stairs. Turn again, no stairs but an upward ramp. My legs hated me. Either way, we got up to the town whose name at the moment I can't recall, but starts with something like a V and probably means "holy crap you climbed a lot of stairs to get here." We sat for a few minutes, gulping down water and sweating up a storm, then decided to head on to Corniglia. The scenery was beautiful, I haven't seen anything like it. There are these sheer drops that go down in giant steps to the ocean (this country has an obsession with steps) covered in grapevines. It was gorgeous. Once at Corniglia we took a quick lunch break, then forged on our way.
Unfortunately, somewhere in the wilderness and stairs I lost my ticket, or Jane's ticket, we're not really sure who lost what. They also check the tickets at every town to make sure you aren't gipping them out of the money they stole from you. Jane thankfully talked us through that point, and the one following. The walk between Corniglia and Vernazza was less strenuous, just exceedingly long. I don't remember much of Vernazza, all I know is I got some delicious gelato there.
The last stretch, now pushing well into hour 4 of just hiking, was ridiculous. Again with the stairs, first going up, then going down, the sun was starting to go behind the clouds so it became chilly, the ground was wet and slick from the rain the night before, and the trail was so narrow at some points that you had enough room for one person to shuffle past. One step to the left and you were off the mountain. It was fantastic.
By the time we were done, we had been gone for about 6 hours, and had hiked for a good 5. We were tired, sweaty, and probably smelled horrid, but it felt like such an accomplishment to actually make it all the way across, something that most people just don't do. We caught a train back to the first town, a ride that lasted all of 20 minutes. I think I ordered the biggest dinner of my life, and we all pretty much just collapsed at the end of the day.
A presto.
Monday, April 7, 2008
In which I am Extremely Spontaneous
Soooo in the past... 56 hours, I have probably been the most spontaneous that I ever have been in my entire life.
To begin with, on Thursday, I wandered into the first hair cuttery I found and decided to chop my hair short (see Facebook picture, I was excited) by an Italian woman who spoke no English (I was so thrilled that I could actually express myself in Italian well enough to get the cut I liked, even if I did pretty much point at a picture). The same day the four of us pretty much decided that we wanted to go to Elba for the weekend, and had sort of figured out how to get out there, but were running into issues about when to head out.
Friday, during our coffee break, Richard, the teacher of the second class, calls and cancels class so we can get out to Elba earlier. Viv, Jane, and their friend David had already made reservations at a hotel in Florence and were just going to head out there earlier, meanwhile I was dying to get out to Elba early and actually have a full day there. Mike was less than keen on the idea, and said that he couldn't make the 130 train, which was pretty disappointing, but I figured it was alright. I was kind of pissed off because I've done the go out for a day and wish you had more time there kind of thing. I headed over to use the internet, and Mike caught up with me and told me he changed his mind. So we headed home, threw some stuff into bags, and booked it to the train station. We got tehre with plenty of time to catch the train, and ended up in Elba by 730. We had made no reservations at all, so we literally walked into the first place that we found in Portoferraio and got a room for the night. We walked around the marina and ended up stumbling upon a really cute little place where we were literally the only people in the restaurant. It was soooo gooooood. I ate octopus and crab and it was delicious. I ordered things without knowing what they are, and it was exciting and different and just awesome.
The next morning we woke up super early, grabbed a quick breakfast and hopped an early bus to Marina del Campo, and found another hotel/camper thing and spent the entire day on the beach. I got sunburnt but it was fantastic. Jane, Viv and David decided to stay in Portoferraio, which was a little disappointing, but that was ok, we ended up meeting up with them the next day. We spent most of Sunday trying to figure out how to get home, and ended up in Siena just in time for dinner.
Over all, this past weekend was simply fantastic. As for me, it is now time for me to go and buy some jeans. Wheeeee!
A presto!
To begin with, on Thursday, I wandered into the first hair cuttery I found and decided to chop my hair short (see Facebook picture, I was excited) by an Italian woman who spoke no English (I was so thrilled that I could actually express myself in Italian well enough to get the cut I liked, even if I did pretty much point at a picture). The same day the four of us pretty much decided that we wanted to go to Elba for the weekend, and had sort of figured out how to get out there, but were running into issues about when to head out.
Friday, during our coffee break, Richard, the teacher of the second class, calls and cancels class so we can get out to Elba earlier. Viv, Jane, and their friend David had already made reservations at a hotel in Florence and were just going to head out there earlier, meanwhile I was dying to get out to Elba early and actually have a full day there. Mike was less than keen on the idea, and said that he couldn't make the 130 train, which was pretty disappointing, but I figured it was alright. I was kind of pissed off because I've done the go out for a day and wish you had more time there kind of thing. I headed over to use the internet, and Mike caught up with me and told me he changed his mind. So we headed home, threw some stuff into bags, and booked it to the train station. We got tehre with plenty of time to catch the train, and ended up in Elba by 730. We had made no reservations at all, so we literally walked into the first place that we found in Portoferraio and got a room for the night. We walked around the marina and ended up stumbling upon a really cute little place where we were literally the only people in the restaurant. It was soooo gooooood. I ate octopus and crab and it was delicious. I ordered things without knowing what they are, and it was exciting and different and just awesome.
The next morning we woke up super early, grabbed a quick breakfast and hopped an early bus to Marina del Campo, and found another hotel/camper thing and spent the entire day on the beach. I got sunburnt but it was fantastic. Jane, Viv and David decided to stay in Portoferraio, which was a little disappointing, but that was ok, we ended up meeting up with them the next day. We spent most of Sunday trying to figure out how to get home, and ended up in Siena just in time for dinner.
Over all, this past weekend was simply fantastic. As for me, it is now time for me to go and buy some jeans. Wheeeee!
A presto!
Friday, April 4, 2008
HOLY MACAROON
I JUST SAW FREAKING DANIEL CRAIG ON TOP OF A BUS OUTSIDE MY SCHOOL.
MY LIFE IS NOW COMPLETE
MY LIFE IS NOW COMPLETE
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Jolly Old London Town and Christmas Gypsies
Gooooood Morning, London!
Alright, that's a lie, it is neither morning, nor am I physically in the city of London, but whatever, it's all good. I at least was there.
This past weekend I had the extreme pleasure of heading out to see Brooke, one of my best friends from back home (I was in dire need of a sister, and thank goodness there was one out here! The past week or so had been really rough, I needed someone who really got me to talk to, and Brooke was a life-saver). Plus, it was my first time to London ever! So really, I was just about jumping out of my skin I was so excited.
I cut class on Friday afternoon to take oodles of trains out to the Pisa Airport. Now, normally, at home one arrives at the air port with a good 2 + hours to spare, so, naturally, that is what I did. Planes don't wait, after all. So I arrived at 230, with my flight taking off at 5, and the flight hadn't even been assigned a check-in point yet. It was so strange. An hour later, the show the place I'm supposed to put my bags and get my ticket. Even stranger was I had to pay to check my bag, and the seating was just "random." Easyjet, you crazy, crazy people. Anyway, I went to go and find my gate, but the door that lead to it was closed and no one could get in. So I waited another half hour, scarfed down some pizza, which I was severely overcharged for but the man serving it was very nice, and finally went to go double check on the gate. The doors had magically opened on their own, so I headed upstairs where they barely looked at my passport, stamped it, and shuffled me through to a room full of Italians and Brits. I settled myself in on a bench and anxiously awaited for boarding. A line had started forming, and I felt compelled to go stand in it (a little bit of sheep syndrome, I know). About 5 minutes before we were supposed to take off, they started boarding, and it was a mad dash to who could get where fastest. I ended up with a window seat, which was lovely becuase I love looking out. Otherwise I get really bored extremely fast. We touched down in London around 6 pm, which wasn't too bad at all. I hopped on the Gatwick Express into Victoria Station and had a really cool conversation with a Dane about all kinds of things. I finally found Brooke after searching desperately for about 4 minutes on the phone. We hopped on a subway and dropped my things off at my hostel (I was sharing a room with 2 Japanese girls, 2 Brazilians, and a German. It was crazy). We then went to this cute little place and ate chicken pitas, crashed at the hostel for a bit then went to bed.
The next morning we headed out to do the touristy bit, and I actually had sunshine!! It was glorious! We first headed to Westminster Abbey and saw the outside of Parliament and Big Ben, and we also walked by the London Eye (Eye of London, I don't actually know what it is called, it's the big Ferris-wheely bit in the middle of town) and ate Vanilla Flakes (vanilla soft-serve with a "flake" of Cadbury chocolate). I also got to eat a pasty, aka a meat pie, which was tasty but gross looking and a little disturbing because I had seen Sweeney Todd. Mmm... lawyer. We also went to Kennsington Gardens, and finally found the statue of Peter Pan. I'm obsessed, she's obsessed, and I have no problem saying that I am, in fact, 7 years old at heart. Deal. Anywho, we popped on the internet for a little bit and made some plans to head off to Rome in a few weeks, and by the time we headed out to go get tea (yaaaay tea time) it was pouring. So I got to experience true London weather, too! We went first to the Museum of Natural History, which, in my opinion, even as an art con major, are significantly more interesting than regular art museums, where they had the most disturbing display about how we recycle energy. It started with a bunny, and the voice, in a cute little British accent, popped up saying "Allo, rabbit! Lookit you eatin' your grass!" then it progressed to the next one, where it said "Ewwww whatzit doin'?" where the bunny (taxadermy at it's best) was pooing. And then it went to "Awww, rabbit's dyyyying." To "I can't look I can't look!" where the bunny was decomposing. To "Where's rabbit?" the bunny had completely gone away into the soil. And at the end of it, they said "OOOOOH, Let's recycle another rabbit." DISTURBING. SO DISTURBING.
After that we went to tea, and then to see a movie. We signed up for Lars and the Real Girl, but ended up seeing Love in the Time of Cholera, which, while good, was not what we bought. Ohhhh well. After, we went and got some Indian food for dinner, which was delicious.
The next morning I woke up at the crack of dawn (6 am, which was really 5 am because they did daylight savings that weekend. Bastards), checked out, and proceeded to wait for my cab at 615. 615 came and went, as did 620, and 625. I was a little nervous at this point. I went up to the desk and asked if they could call and make sure everything is alright. They said they had no reservation for me (although I had made it the night before). They finally sent one over, and I arrived at 645 to catch the Gatwick Express back to the airport. Unfortunately, the trains run every half hour in the wee hours of the morning, not every 10 minutes like they do during peak hours. So if my cab had been there, I could have caught the 630 GE, gotten to the airport at 7 and had enough time to get to my gate. Unfortunately for me, I got there at 730, and the people told me "sorry, tough cookies." Now that I knew my flight was doomed, I asked if I could get on the next one coming out. Easyjet, being so kind and helpful, said, "There are no other flights out of Gatwick to Pisa today. That was the only one." Slackjawed and amazed, I thanked them and wandered away. I asked another desk, "Do you have any flights to Pisa today?" and it turns out that the only people who fly there are Easyjet, in all their glory, and British Airways. Swallowing my pride (fully knowing that the next question was going to have a very painful response) I went up to the desk and asked for a ticket on the next flight to Pisa. "Surely, for 150 GBP." I smiled, fished out my credit card, and paid the pleasant man. At the very least, I would be home that day. I ended up waiting around for another 2 hours at the airport before the flight started boarding. By noon, I was off, sitting in a window seat next to two less than friendly Brits, I think they just had no desire to talk to me. Oh well. But how can you be mad when you land in Pisa to 78 degrees and sunny?
A few trains later, I was home. It was 7 pm, the sun was still out, it was still wonderfully warm, and I was in a fantastic mood. My host mom was cooking dinner, and the world was a fantabulous place. And thus ended my weekend holiday.
As for the Christmas Gypsy bit, if any of you either read the title or remember it by now, while walking toward the Campo after class one day, Mike and I saw a gypsy dressed in lime green and fire-engine red. She was, in fact, a Christmas Gypsy.
A presto, tutti!
Alright, that's a lie, it is neither morning, nor am I physically in the city of London, but whatever, it's all good. I at least was there.
This past weekend I had the extreme pleasure of heading out to see Brooke, one of my best friends from back home (I was in dire need of a sister, and thank goodness there was one out here! The past week or so had been really rough, I needed someone who really got me to talk to, and Brooke was a life-saver). Plus, it was my first time to London ever! So really, I was just about jumping out of my skin I was so excited.
I cut class on Friday afternoon to take oodles of trains out to the Pisa Airport. Now, normally, at home one arrives at the air port with a good 2 + hours to spare, so, naturally, that is what I did. Planes don't wait, after all. So I arrived at 230, with my flight taking off at 5, and the flight hadn't even been assigned a check-in point yet. It was so strange. An hour later, the show the place I'm supposed to put my bags and get my ticket. Even stranger was I had to pay to check my bag, and the seating was just "random." Easyjet, you crazy, crazy people. Anyway, I went to go and find my gate, but the door that lead to it was closed and no one could get in. So I waited another half hour, scarfed down some pizza, which I was severely overcharged for but the man serving it was very nice, and finally went to go double check on the gate. The doors had magically opened on their own, so I headed upstairs where they barely looked at my passport, stamped it, and shuffled me through to a room full of Italians and Brits. I settled myself in on a bench and anxiously awaited for boarding. A line had started forming, and I felt compelled to go stand in it (a little bit of sheep syndrome, I know). About 5 minutes before we were supposed to take off, they started boarding, and it was a mad dash to who could get where fastest. I ended up with a window seat, which was lovely becuase I love looking out. Otherwise I get really bored extremely fast. We touched down in London around 6 pm, which wasn't too bad at all. I hopped on the Gatwick Express into Victoria Station and had a really cool conversation with a Dane about all kinds of things. I finally found Brooke after searching desperately for about 4 minutes on the phone. We hopped on a subway and dropped my things off at my hostel (I was sharing a room with 2 Japanese girls, 2 Brazilians, and a German. It was crazy). We then went to this cute little place and ate chicken pitas, crashed at the hostel for a bit then went to bed.
The next morning we headed out to do the touristy bit, and I actually had sunshine!! It was glorious! We first headed to Westminster Abbey and saw the outside of Parliament and Big Ben, and we also walked by the London Eye (Eye of London, I don't actually know what it is called, it's the big Ferris-wheely bit in the middle of town) and ate Vanilla Flakes (vanilla soft-serve with a "flake" of Cadbury chocolate). I also got to eat a pasty, aka a meat pie, which was tasty but gross looking and a little disturbing because I had seen Sweeney Todd. Mmm... lawyer. We also went to Kennsington Gardens, and finally found the statue of Peter Pan. I'm obsessed, she's obsessed, and I have no problem saying that I am, in fact, 7 years old at heart. Deal. Anywho, we popped on the internet for a little bit and made some plans to head off to Rome in a few weeks, and by the time we headed out to go get tea (yaaaay tea time) it was pouring. So I got to experience true London weather, too! We went first to the Museum of Natural History, which, in my opinion, even as an art con major, are significantly more interesting than regular art museums, where they had the most disturbing display about how we recycle energy. It started with a bunny, and the voice, in a cute little British accent, popped up saying "Allo, rabbit! Lookit you eatin' your grass!" then it progressed to the next one, where it said "Ewwww whatzit doin'?" where the bunny (taxadermy at it's best) was pooing. And then it went to "Awww, rabbit's dyyyying." To "I can't look I can't look!" where the bunny was decomposing. To "Where's rabbit?" the bunny had completely gone away into the soil. And at the end of it, they said "OOOOOH, Let's recycle another rabbit." DISTURBING. SO DISTURBING.
After that we went to tea, and then to see a movie. We signed up for Lars and the Real Girl, but ended up seeing Love in the Time of Cholera, which, while good, was not what we bought. Ohhhh well. After, we went and got some Indian food for dinner, which was delicious.
The next morning I woke up at the crack of dawn (6 am, which was really 5 am because they did daylight savings that weekend. Bastards), checked out, and proceeded to wait for my cab at 615. 615 came and went, as did 620, and 625. I was a little nervous at this point. I went up to the desk and asked if they could call and make sure everything is alright. They said they had no reservation for me (although I had made it the night before). They finally sent one over, and I arrived at 645 to catch the Gatwick Express back to the airport. Unfortunately, the trains run every half hour in the wee hours of the morning, not every 10 minutes like they do during peak hours. So if my cab had been there, I could have caught the 630 GE, gotten to the airport at 7 and had enough time to get to my gate. Unfortunately for me, I got there at 730, and the people told me "sorry, tough cookies." Now that I knew my flight was doomed, I asked if I could get on the next one coming out. Easyjet, being so kind and helpful, said, "There are no other flights out of Gatwick to Pisa today. That was the only one." Slackjawed and amazed, I thanked them and wandered away. I asked another desk, "Do you have any flights to Pisa today?" and it turns out that the only people who fly there are Easyjet, in all their glory, and British Airways. Swallowing my pride (fully knowing that the next question was going to have a very painful response) I went up to the desk and asked for a ticket on the next flight to Pisa. "Surely, for 150 GBP." I smiled, fished out my credit card, and paid the pleasant man. At the very least, I would be home that day. I ended up waiting around for another 2 hours at the airport before the flight started boarding. By noon, I was off, sitting in a window seat next to two less than friendly Brits, I think they just had no desire to talk to me. Oh well. But how can you be mad when you land in Pisa to 78 degrees and sunny?
A few trains later, I was home. It was 7 pm, the sun was still out, it was still wonderfully warm, and I was in a fantastic mood. My host mom was cooking dinner, and the world was a fantabulous place. And thus ended my weekend holiday.
As for the Christmas Gypsy bit, if any of you either read the title or remember it by now, while walking toward the Campo after class one day, Mike and I saw a gypsy dressed in lime green and fire-engine red. She was, in fact, a Christmas Gypsy.
A presto, tutti!
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