Debriefing

I’ve been home for close to two weeks now, and it hasn’t been as difficult an adjustment as I expected it would be. Sometimes it seems like I was never even gone. But sometimes it does. I have another three weeks or so of relative relaxation before I drive to the Upper Peninsula to start year two of my program.

I really enjoyed writing this blog. It was a lot of fun putting my experiences into words and gave a little more purpose to my incessant photography. It was always interesting thinking about how I was going to relay new events to you.

I have to give a bit of credit where it is due:

Thank you, Lara, for convincing me to write this in the first place. I was skeptical at first, but I’m glad you convinced me. Grazie, Elisabetta, for editing my posts (both the Italian and the English). You are always right. Ele, thanks for contributing some of the post titles. It didn’t take you very long to get the hang of my sense of humor. Thanks to my friends who went with me on any of my trips. I had more fun traveling with you than I would have alone. Thank you to everyone I met in Italy and France who shared my experiences with me.

And thank you to you for coming on this adventure with me by reading my blog. At best, I hope that sometimes you felt like you were there with me or you learned something about Italian culture or you became interested in going to one of the places I wrote about. At worst, I hope you at least enjoyed the pictures and laughed (or at least smiled) at some of my jokes.

It’s been fun. But it’s not going to be a one-way correspondence anymore. If you want to know what I’m up to from now on, you have to write to me the old-fashioned way (new-fashioned ways are also acceptable).

Ciao, ragazzi!

Tying Up Loose Ends

Masters of the Super-Atomic Wedgie

My final Friday in Milan was also the laurea, or graduation, of my friend Alessandro. This basically consists of presenting your thesis to a panel of professors who, much like with an American thesis defense, discuss it with each other and give you a grade at the end. Your thesis grade combines with your grade average from your classes to give you a final grade out of 110 (with or without lode, or honors). One major difference from the thesis defenses I’m used to is that everyone goes at once. In this case, it was only 4 people, but back in March it was more like 7 or 8. That means you’re not just presenting to professors and a couple friends. You’re presenting in front of the friends and family of everyone, 40 or 50 people or more. I guess it should be a little comforting to know that the vast majority of the people in the room don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.

But the real fun starts after the grades have been given. Everyone waits outside the building and when the graduate comes out they sing/chant at them some congratulatory and/or vulgar things. Everyone takes pictures with the graduate. Sometimes they pop spumante (an Italian sparkling white wine).

Graduation traditions in Italy apparently vary by region. They usually involve some form of public humiliation. Sort of like hazing, but at the end of the academic career instead of at the beginning. One common tradition (though it wasn’t done in this case) is for the friends of the graduate to prepare a poster of really embarrassing photos of their friends with descriptions/commentary written alongside. The graduate has to stand at a distance (sometimes in varying levels of undress) and try to read the whole story, stopping to drink anytime they read something incorrectly.

The next step in our celebration was the smutandata. In Milano, or at least at Bicocca, apparently it is tradition for guys to get a wedgie from their friends when they graduate. But not just an ordinary wedgie. Not even an atomic wedgie. Their friends literally lift them up by their underwear and tear it off them. While I wasn’t graduating, I was leaving, so (lucky me!) I got to participate in this wonderful tradition.

And we all learned a valuable lesson that day. American underwear is of a much higher quality than Italian underwear. A hilarious but painful lesson.

We then had a party at our usual lunch place, Casa Loca, and there was much rejoicing.

Pushing the graduate around in a shopping cart also seems to be a thing, and I got to do that too.

Saying Goodbye

My flight home was Monday morning, and since I had to leave from Centrale early in the morning to get to the airport in time, I met with many of my friends for dinner and drinks Sunday night to say goodbye. We went to the same bar in which I met many of my friends during the first week I was in Milan, so it brought back memories. It was really nice to see so many people that night and to have had the chance to say goodbye to nearly all of my Italian friends in person over the week or two before I left. I can’t say when, but I know too many amazing people there now not to go back and visit.

That Time Customs Made Not So Veiled Accusations That I Was a Druggie

My trip home to New Jersey was pretty painless and uneventful all the way up until the end. I was lucky enough to have a direct flight to the closest airport to my house, so it was easy for my parents to come pick me up. And I didn’t even get charged a fee on the Italian end even though my checked luggage was definitely too heavy.

But when I got to passport control after landing, I had one of the strangest conversations I have ever had. After the normal questions about where I was coming from and what I had been doing there, the customs agent asked questions about my luggage.

-Are you carrying any agricultural times? Fruits, vegetables, etc.?

-No.

-Animals?

-No.

-Firearms?

-No.

-…Drugs?

-No.

-Are you sure?

-Yes, I’m sure.

-Really?

-Yes, really.

-Alright, man. Last chance.

-Do I look particularly suspicious to you?

-*Laughs* Ok, I really don’t want to find any drugs on you, man.

After which he wrote some notation on my customs form that caused me to get pulled aside for an extra check, in which they found and confiscated the many, many drugs that I was trying to sneak into the country. Ok, not really. They just put my bags through an extra x-ray and no one said anything.

After that, I was free to reenter American soil and try to remember to say “sorry” or “excuse me” to people instead of “scusi” or “permesso”.

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

Now that I’m home and almost wrapped up, I’ll take a time out and give you another one of those lists I promised. Here’s the things I’m going to miss the most about Italy now that I’ve left.

Churches

If you know me, you probably know my general opinions on religion. Still, even I can’t deny that religion is responsible for inspiring some of the best architecture there is. One of the coolest things about Italy is that virtually every town, no matter how small, has at least one interesting church. Some of the churches are cool because they’re old (heck, they’re basically all older than my country!), some because they’re ornate, and some because they’re massive. Regardless of the reason, I was always impressed by the variety. While there were some common styles, there was usually something unique about each edifice.

Duomo in Florence

Santo Bernardo alle Ossa in Milan

Duomo Vecchio in Brescia

Chiesa di Santo Stefano in Venice

Basilica di San Marco in Venice

Duomo in Milan

Church in Bettola

Food

This doesn’t require much commentary. Italian food is really good, and Italian people are really good at making it.

Spaghetti alle vongole in Rome

Gelato

A lot of Italians “translate” gelato to “ice cream” for my benefit. “No,” I wanted to yell. “Gelato and ice cream are not the same thing! You’re doing Italy a disservice! Gelato is better!” Gelato has a different texture than ice cream and also a different assortment of flavors. While there are fewer options with things mixed in, there are plenty of flavors that I’ve never seen in American ice cream. My personal favorites tend to be the fruit flavors, which often taste just like the real thing, but don’t have an icy/sorbet texture the way most American fruit flavored “ice creams” do.

Coffee

I’ve never been the biggest fan of coffee back home and will probably be even less so after living in Italy for a year. Initial studies show that I can now drink black coffee like it’s water. I really got into the espresso after each meal thing. I bought myself a moka pot before I left, so hopefully my housemates in Michigan won’t think I’m too weird for making espresso all the time.

Public Transportation

I know my Italian friends always complain about the trains, but to me the public transportation is amazing. Inside Milan, the ATM is great. Whether by metro, tram, or bus, it covers the city really well, and once you get the hang of it, it’s simple to get anywhere you want pretty quickly (if it’s not after midnight or a strike day), not to mention the fact that 17 euros a month (student rate) for unlimited usage is an absurd bargain.

Venturing out into Italy, it’s just as good (if you’re not a commuter). Going to any place within an hour and a half or so away is easy and surprisingly cheap. And even beyond that, it’s never more expensive than Amtrak would be in the US. Speaking of which, the Italo high-speed train is everything that Amtrak should be. It travels up to 360 kph (around 220 mph; Amtrak’s top speed is 150mph), making it a piece of cake to go to Florence, Rome, or Naples. Plus, comfy seats, wifi, electrical outlets, and free snacks and drinks after every stop!

The tram I took to university every day

The high speed Italo train

Diversity of Places to Visit So Close By

Do you want culture and architecture? Florence is less than two hours away. Scenery? Como’s just an hour by train. Beautiful hiking and beaches? Cinque Terre is “far” at 3.5 hours. The longest trip I took (not counting Sicily) was 4.5 hours to Naples. And there are all the day trips I took to places close by. I can’t think of nearly as many places within short train/driving distance of my house that I’d advise people to visit if they visited me in NJ (but visit me anyway!).

Willingness to Do Stuff on Weekdays

In the US, our social schedules tend to be arranged around the weekend. Try to schedule something on a Tuesday and you may have trouble getting any takers, not even necessarily because they have an exam to study for or they have a big meeting at work the next day, but just because it’s Tuesday. We don’t roll on Tuesday. In Italy people do fun things whenever. If it means getting to sleep a little late on a weeknight, then so be it. But having class the next morning isn’t an excuse to skip out on a drink with friends or dinner at someone’s house. It also means that you don’t have to feel like a weekend is wasted if you don’t go out every night because you’ll make up for it by doing something fun during the following week.

Haircuts

I don’t know if hair cutting school is more rigorous there or what, but haircuts (or, at least men’s haircuts) are better in Italy. On top of the awesome included hair washing/scalp massage thingy you get before and after, they use all sorts of fancy tools I’ve never seen in the US. Plus, using a straight razor to do the sideburns just adds to the cool factor!

Friends

Duh. I mean, seriously, duh times a million. Italy is an amazing place. Just being there was a lot of fun. But the real reason my year was so amazing was because of the people I met. I made new friends in Clermont-Ferrand at the beginning of my trip all the way through to Etna near the end and everywhere and everywhen in between. Friends in my classes. Friends in hostels. Friends made on my own or through other friends. Friends on a box, friends with a fox. Friends in a bar, friends in a maar. Friends helped me translate stuff (in French and in Italian). Friends invited me to go places with them even though they barely knew me at the time. No matter how much and how well I write about it in this paragraph, it can’t possibly be enough to describe how much affection I have for everyone I met and how much I’m going to miss them now that I’m back in the US.

Roman Around Rome

I got a fairly early start on the second day, wanting to get some sightseeing in before it got too hot outside. After waiting for what seemed like ages for the hostel owner to finish making coffee, I gave up and just stopped at a bar on the street instead.

This isn’t where I had my coffee.

Based on my parents’ recommendation, I headed for Chiesa di San Pietro in Vincoli (Saint Peter in Chains). Good thing I’d been told about it, too, because from the outside it doesn’t even look like a church!

The inside was one of the more interesting church interiors I saw in Rome. I really liked the columns.

The highlight of this church, however, is that it contains Michelangelo’s Moses sculpture, completed in 1545.

I had other things to do, but since it was on my way, I took another pass by the Colosseum.

After that, I walked alongside the Circus Maximus, the ancient Roman chariot racetrack. Why no pictures? Because there’s basically nothing left of it. This was my mistake of the day. It was quite a long walk along the track and then back into the center of the city and a bit of a waste of energy. At least I passed a nice church, the Basilica di San Nicola in Carcere, originally built in the 6^th century and most recently rebuilt in 1599.

Once back in the main part of Rome, I consulted my map and walked to the place I had missed the day before, the Trevi Fountain. Once I found it, I understood how I’d missed it. The piazza it’s located in is a bit secluded which makes it nicer once you arrive but harder to get there in the first place. The fountain site was built originally around the turn of the first millennium. The fountain was fed by the famed Roman aqueducts, functioning as a water source for the residents of the city for many years. Much later on, in the 1700s, the pope commissioned a much more dramatic façade for the fountain, leading to what can be seen today.

Since the Pantheon had been closed when I visited it the night before, I decided to go back and see if I could get inside. On the way, I passed Chiesa di Sant’Ignazio di Loyola, a 16^th century Jesuit church.

Back at the Pantheon, I was able to go inside and look around. Unfortunately, like everything cool that people got their hands on back in the day, it’s been turned into a church. Sure, it’s a nice church, but it would’ve been much more interesting to see what the interior looked like back when it was a Roman temple.

From the Pantheon, I just had to find my way to Via del Corso, and then it was a straight shot to my next stop, Piazza del Popolo. But (as should be pretty clear by this point) random churches distract me, so I stopped along the way at Basilica dei Santi Ambrogio e Carlo al Corso.

No more distractions! I made it to Piazza del Popolo (“The People’s Plaza” literally, but the name apparently actually comes from the poplar tree) to find a crowd of people with reporters and cameras all trained on the entrance to a church. Using my now flawless Italian, I eloquently asked a woman in the crowd what was so interesting. She responded that Sharon Stone was in the church. I guess Italians love them some Sharon Stone. But I won’t stop for anyone less than Roberto Benigni, so on I went.

The piazza is big and round with an obelisk and fountains in the middle. Apparently it was used for executions until the mid-1800s.

On the eastern side of the piazza there’s a serious staircase you can climb way up to the top to get a great view of the piazza—and of the entire city.

 

There was also a nice park to walk around in at the top of the stairs. I explored just a bit before heading back down.

Before continuing my day, I decided to stop for lunch in a small restaurant on Via del Corso just south of Piazza del Popolo. I had planned on having another Roman specialty like pasta alla carbonara, but when I saw my favorite Italian dish, spaghetti alle vongole (clams), on the menu, I couldn’t resist. This was a good decision, as it was the best spaghetti alle vongole I have ever had.

Really, there wasn’t a whole lot left of the absolute must-do things that I hadn’t done. I checked my list of recommendations and noticed that I had skipped over Piazza della Minerva, so I made a long walk to backtrack my way to it. The piazza has a Bernini statue of an elephant and an obelisk in the middle and a nice church. Unfortunately, the church was closed, either indefinitely, or at least for a couple more hours, so I had to content myself with just looking around a bit before moving on.

With the final box on my checklist checked, I decided to work my way back towards the archaeological area. Along the way, I passed another church or two and saw the Campidoglio area in different lighting from the previous evening.

I took a different pathway down from Campidoglio and was surprised with a fantastic view of the forum.

I also got to see the Arch of Titus, which I’d missed up until this point.

Even though was still only the afternoon, and I had plenty of time left to look around still catch a train home, I was really worn out, and it had gotten quite hot again. I decided I was satisfied with my visit, so I headed for the train station to head home.

When I got back from Rome, I had only four days left before going home, but I still had time to do a few more post-worthy things. So don’t worry, I’m not ready to close the book on my adventures just yet!

Fa Caldo! Sono Stanco! Sono Puzzolente!

After leaving the Vatican, I had two major short-term goals. First, find a nice place to have lunch. Second, have that nice place also be one of the places I planned to visit on my trip. After looking at a map, I decided that Piazza di Spagna, known for the Spanish Steps, fit the bill nicely. On my way there, I finally started walking past some actual things, in particular, a fairly nice church near the Mausoleum of Augustus.

But it wasn’t long before I arrived at the Spanish Steps, and the sight of them instantly improved my day. This was the kind of thing I came to Rome to see! The steps were built in the 1700s and climb the steep slope from Piazza di Spagna to Trinità dei Monti church at the top.

After refilling my water bottle in the “Fountain of the Ugly Boat”, designed by the father of the famous artist/architect Gian Lorenzo Bernini, I climbed part way up the steps and found a sliver of shade to sit in while I ate my lunch and took a much needed breather.

From Piazza di Spagna, I set off towards my next destination, which according to my careful planning was…what again? Due perhaps to the heat and all the walking I’d already done, I wasn’t really feeling my best and kind of abandoned any previous plans I’d had to traverse the city in my normal calculatingly efficient manner. Instead, I sort of just walked in the general direction of the nearest interesting thing I could see, resulting in passing some stuff along the way.

At this point, I was getting nearer to the center of the city, where I saw another cool column much like the Marcus Aurelius one from earlier, but this one was surrounded by other columns and a couple churches.

I also finally had a good view of the huge thing I had been walking towards for a while, the Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II, also known as the Altare della Patria (Altar of the Fatherhood). This massive, columned, white marble monument was built in the early 20th century in honor of Vittorio Emanuele II, the first king of unified Italy.

The monument also contains Italy’s tomb of the unknown soldier along with an eternal flame.

Apparently the monument is a bit controversial due to its size and location. It required the destruction of parts of a historical area of the city, and many consider it to be a bit of an eyesore and overly grandiose. It has a few pejorative nicknames based on its shape, like “the typewriter,” “the wedding cake,” and “la zuppa inglese” (a type of dessert). Nonetheless, I kind of liked it.

Sort of attached to the monument was Santa Maria in Aracoeli, a medieval church with an extremely pretty interior. It is part of the Campidoglio (Capitoline Hill) part of Rome that was partially destroyed to build the monument.

 

Back on the monument, there were some great views out towards the city in every direction, including my first good view of the Colosseum.

Meanwhile, the monument actually houses what was one of my favorite things on the trip, the Museum of the Risorgimento, the Italian fight for independence. The museum had lots of interesting artifacts from the 19th and 20th centuries, highlighting Italy’s wars with Austria and the unification of the country under one government.

I’ve always enjoyed learning about history, and it was fun to learn about the country I’d spent the last year living in. The museum was designed as a long hallway, chronologically describing the events that had taken place and the important people. The people were particularly interesting, as in many places in Italy, and particularly in Milan, places that take their names from the Risorgimento (like Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, Stazione Porta Garibaldi, Stazione Cadorna, Piazza Cinque Giornate) are everywhere.

From the monument, I walked down Via dei Fori Imperiali, which passes through the archaeological part of the city, next to the forum, and right up to the Colosseum.

This also helped raise my spirits, because this is the kind of stuff I was imagining when I was planning to come to Rome. Though there is something strange about having a major roadway right in the middle of everything. As a resident of the city, it must never get old driving right up to and then around the Colosseum.

It was also cool seeing the Arch of Constantine, having studied it in an art history class at Tufts. Bummer about the scaffolding, though.

At this point, I felt really drained and needed a longer break, so I decided to make my way to my hostel to rest for a while. On the way I passed some more churches, of course.

Once back at the hostel, I was able to get an easier-to-read map of the city, and I spent some time figuring out what I’d seen and what I still needed to see. As I mentioned earlier, I’d basically traversed the city in a completely inefficient manner, covering a huge distance without actually seeing everything thoroughly. At some points, I had been right next to important locations and somehow passed right by without seeing them (The Trevi Fountain was a glaring error in this vein.).

But now I was rested, and I had a game plan. And the first part of that plan was dinner.

Based on a recommendation, my goal was to eat in the Roman Ghetto, the Jewish part of the city. To get there, I walked past some of the things I had passed earlier in the day, but took a more direct route, cutting behind the Altare della Patria and through the Piazza del Campidoglio.

It was quite a walk, but anytime I receive advice from an Italian friend about something to do in Italy I consider it worth following, so I was determined to make it to my destination. Also, by this point I felt better and it had cooled down quite a bit.

Once I reached the Tiber, I kept a lookout for Isola Tiberina, a small island that sits in the middle of this bend in the river. While I didn’t take the time to check out what was actually on the island, I climbed down to the banks of the river to get a nice view looking up at the bridge to the island.

After that, I quickly found my way to the Jewish ghetto. The synagogue there wasn’t as impressive as the one in Florence, but it was as least more distinguishable than the one in Venice.

I found the restaurant recommended to me and ordered two typical Roman dishes, carciofi alla giudìa (Jewish artichokes) and pasta cacio e pepe (pasta with cheese and pepper). They were delicious, of course!

Since I was feeling good, I decided to try to see a few things before heading back to the hostel. I had heard that some of the piazzas were particularly pretty at night, so I figured it was worth checking out.

First, I found the Pantheon. It was closed to entry at night, but I could still walk around and look at the columns.

Next, I went to Piazza Navona, which was built during the first century AD and housed the city market during the 15th century. There were lots of people doing hand readings, a very talented guitarist, and a fountain that was lit beautifully.

From there, I made the trek back to the hostel, passing again by Piazza Venezia and the Vittorio Emanuele II monument.

Back at the hostel, I once again checked my map and prepared for day two. While I hadn’t been efficient, I had succeeded in seeing a great deal of the places I intended. If ever there was a day to want cibo, doccia, and letto (but maybe not pelliccia), this was it!

I Vatican’t Believe it Wasn’t Better

With Venice checked off my list, I was less likely to get yelled at once I got home for not doing all the important things in Italy. But I still hadn’t been to Rome. And even I, Geoff, the illustrious master stuff-doer, can’t do Rome in just one day. It was looking like there just wouldn’t be enough time to fit in a trip there. However, I was able to meet with my 3D modeling professor to show him my project (which I did well on, if not quite as well as my other two exams) on Tuesday, leaving me free for two days (I had to be back in Milan on Friday for my friend’s graduation). I decided to give it a shot, so I borrowed a Rome guide and a couple issues of my new favorite comic, Rat-Man, from a friend, grabbed an early train from Stazione Centrale, and prepared for two days packed with doing stuff.

While I didn’t have the whole day planned out exactly, I did make a reservation to bypass the line at the Vatican Museum not too long after arriving, so the first order of business was to get there. Since I had enough time, I figured that, rather than taking the metro, I’d walk across the city to get a feel for it and hopefully pass some interesting stuff along the way. It’s Rome, after all, right? Wrong! I somehow picked a route that passed very close to not a single interesting thing on my hour plus walk across the city. Finally, a ways into it, I happened upon the Column of Marcus Aurelius, everyone’s favorite philosopher king. The doric column is about 30m (100ft) tall and a few meters in diameter with relief sculpture spiraling all the way up to the top. The piazza containing the column was sad and abandoned considering that the attraction was pretty cool! But it was only a taste of what was to come.

After some more walking, I reached the Fiume Tevere (Tiber River) at the western part of the city. Once I crossed over the bridge, I would be close to the Vatican. Crossing the bridge gave some views up and down the river, and across the bridge, I could see Castel Sant’Angelo (originally Hadrian’s Mausoleum), which was a monstrous tomb built by the Emperor Hadrian in the 100s AD and later converted to a castle in the 400s by emperor Honorius.

Once I crossed to the western side of the Tiber, it was a fairly short walk to the Vatican, where Basilica di San Pietro (St. Peter’s Basilica) towers over everything.

But first things first. I had an appointment to see the Vatican Museums and the Sistine Chapel, so I took a surprisingly long walk around the walls of the city to get to the entrance.

The museums were definitely not a highlight of the trip, for several reasons. One, the stuff inside was nice, but not particularly unique. I’ve seen most of it in other places in similar forms. Two, they are constantly teasing you about the Sistine Chapel, which is at the very end. “C’mon, guys! This way, just pass through the next room and you can see it! You’re almost there, guys! PSYCH! Seventeen more rooms to go first, suckers!” Third, tour groups.

Tour groups are the worst. Given that I was a little bored, I was trying to rush through so I could see the chapel and move on to other things. This was made difficult by the fact that tour groups are made up of inconsiderate jerks who fan out and block your path at every turn. There were times I thought that there was a line for something interesting only to realize it was just a mass of 50 people stopped in the middle of the hallway who didn’t consider that people might like to pass them. You can imagine me shuffling my feet and bobbing, weaving, and ducking in and out of the crowd to get through as quick as I could.

Not to say it was horrible. There were some nice rooms and cool ceilings, it was just that my time was precious and there were more important things I needed to get to.

Finally, I made it through into the Cappella Sistina. This building was pretty cool both for its importance (the Papal conclave is held here) and its decoration. The walls and ceiling were covered in religious paintings, which seem more amazing when you think about the fact that Michelangelo painted the majority of the church all by himself. Cowabunga, Dude!

Of note was the fact that, as you would expect for such a revered, sacred place, there was a low murmur throughout the room. In an effort to silence said murmur, the chapel workers would loudly shush everyone a few times a minute, which was far more irritating than the problem they were trying to solve. Also, this was one of those strictly anti-picture churches, which means I had to hide myself in the crowd so I could get my one picture.

A bonus of doing the museum first was that it let out right into St. Peter’s Basilica, allowing me to skip the lengthy line. Here, my disappointment in the Vatican continued. Don’t get me wrong. St. Peter’s is nice. Really nice. But what it really has going for it is that it’s big. Arguably the biggest church in the world, about twice the size of Milan’s Duomo, which is already pretty damn huge.

However, to me, “biggest” is the only superlative that St. Peter’s can claim. It’s not the prettiest (especially on the outside), most intricate, most colorful, or any of the other -ests that would make me really like a church. Honestly, if I had to rank the churches I’ve seen in Italy, it wouldn’t even be in my top 3 (just off the top of my head, I like the Milan Duomo, Florence Duomo, and San Marco better). But again, it was still very nice on the inside.

And that was it for the Vatican. Considering how much I’ve enjoyed all the churches in Italy, I was really surprised at how let down I was. Maybe it’s just hyped too much. The Vatican was good, but considering it’s supposed to be THE place to go for churches, it wasn’t good enough.

On the way back across the Tiber, I passed Castel Sant’Angelo from a different angle. I had originally planned to go inside and do a tour, but I was hot and tired and cranky after the Vatican and couldn’t deal with going inside another place, so I contented myself to look from the outside.

The weather in Rome both days was a brutal sunny 90F (about 32C). So after walking through the whole city and doing the Vatican (in pants, no less; don’t say I’m not respectful of Jesus’ dress code. I learned my lesson in Brescia), I really needed a break. It was around lunch time, so I headed off to sit by the Spanish Steps…

Sorry for my first Rome post being only about my least favorite part of the trip, but I promise the next one will be a lot better. I enjoyed the rest of the time a lot more (and I’ve got the pictures to prove it!).

Venice vs. Two Geologists and a Map, Part 2: Playing Doge-ball

After a few delays, I had a successful eight-hour flight from Milan to Newark today. I’m back in the USA! Not sure how I feel about that yet. All sorts of emotions to sort out, but they’ll have to wait! Before we can get to that, I have to finish my job of virtually bringing you to nice Italian places.

So, picking up where we left off…

After finishing in St. Mark’s Basilica, we moved to the Palazzo Ducale, or the Doge’s Palace, also in Piazza San Marco. The Doge was both the political and religious leader of Venice. Between around 700 and 1800, a man would be elected for life to serve as the Doge and would live in the Palazzo Ducale (and San Marco was his personal church).

It’s worth noting that being a student rocks. I’m not going to claim you can recoup all of your tuition costs in museum savings, but it sure feels like it in the moment. For almost everything we visited in Venice, all you had to do was flash your student ID and you received up to half off entry.

Inside the Doge’s Palace, there were many opulent rooms with detailed paintings on the ceilings and walls. There were also some museumy rooms like the one pictured below with lots of weapons. There were also some great views out of the southern-facing windows.

After passing through the nice parts of the palace, we got to walk around the prison, which was dingy and uninviting. But the coolest part of the palace was the Ponti dei Sospiri, or Bridge of Sighs, which connects the prison to the interrogation rooms. The bridge is all white limestone with small windows. The bridge takes its name from the story that prisoners walking past these windows supposedly sighed as they took their last look at the beautiful city before being placed in a cell to rot forever.

After leaving the palace, we crossed a small canal where we were able to take a look at the Bridge of Sighs from the outside (pictured above). We couldn’t resist taking a short break to dip our feet in the water. C’mon, the water on the edge of the island has to be cleaner than the stuff in the canals in the middle, right?

Once we got moving again and passed into the Castello zone (despite the name, there is no castle), we stopped at a church that is of special interest to geologists. As I approached… ”Ah, nice church. Wait, the tower…it isn’t…is it leaning? Yes, it is! Subsidence! Yay!” I realize it’s kind of difficult to see in the pictures, but the campanile of San Giorgio dei Greci is leaning slightly. Trust me, it’s quite obvious in person, both from a distance where you can see the difference in angle, and up close where you can see quite clearly the difference in ground level.

 

After getting over my fits of geological nerdyness, I was ready to continue.

We headed north until we encountered the Basilica dei Santi Giovanni e Paolo. It’s quite big, one of the largest in the city, and the piazza (often called campo in the Venetian dialect) in front of it was kind of small, so it was hard to actually get a real good look at the church from a distance. Unfortunately it was largely covered by scaffolding, and one of the parts was closed to entry.

From there we made our way back towards the Grand Canal, passing more churches and bridges along the way.

When we reached the canal, we got a good view of the Ponte di Rialto. This bridge is to Venice sort of what the Ponte Vecchio is to Florence. It’s big and detailed, with shops and such along the way.

At this point, we had explored most of the zones except for Cannaregio, the region nearest the station at the northwest side of the island. There’s not too much to see there, but we looked around to find the Jewish Ghetto, a place you’re supposed to visit for its historical importance. Venice struck back at us here, and it took us several tries to get where we were going.

Truthfully, there isn’t that much to see in the ghetto. The synagogue is only identifiable by the plaque on the outside. It isn’t set apart by its architecture like in some of the places I’ve been. The section of the city is important because it’s the original ghetto. The word ghetto actually comes from the Veneto dialect, where it was used to describe the region of the city where Jews were compelled to live.

With our last goal accomplished, we headed back toward the station, where we figured we could hang out for the last bit of our trip without getting lost.

Once we got near the station, we camped out for a bridge for a little while where we could just rest and watch the boats go by.

From there, we walked around a little bit without losing sight of the station, just to use all the time we had.

A smashing success! Victory naps all around!

Venice vs. Two Geologists and a Map

…or God Really Doesn’t Like It When You Take Pictures of His Stuff.

Somehow, I found myself with only a week left in Italy, and I still hadn’t managed to visit arguably the country’s two most important cities, Venice and Rome. On Monday, I fixed part of that. Eleonora, who went with me, is from the Veneto region of Italy and had been to Venice a number of times, so we had that working in our favor. Still, Venice is tricky, with lots of tiny roads and bridges.

We always knew more or less where we were, but it was very easy to make a wrong turn or go down a dead end road. Luckily, with Ele manning the paper map and me using my phone internet in case of extreme confusion we were able to move through the city very efficiently.

I’m serious about the churches thing. This is the first view right out of the train station.

I’ve looked pretty hard, and I can’t find any solid statistics on ranking cities by churches per square mile/kilometer, but it’s really hard to imagine a city where a higher percentage of the buildings are churches than Venice. It is very, very difficult to find yourself in a place in the city where you aren’t within view of a church. The result of this is that I took a lot of pictures of churches whose names and importance I don’t necessarily know. So I may just post streams of pictures only interjecting commentary when I actually know something about what is in the pictures.

Immediately upon exiting the train station, you cross the Canal Grande, which is pretty wide and has lots of ships crossing. Just walking along the Grand Canal, you can see nice churches and houses on the other side. After crossing the canal, we started our touring in the San Polo zone of the city.

Of course, there are also tons of small canals separating ordinary blocks of the city from each other.

We saw a nice church.

A lot of the charm of Venice was less about knowing what all the things you were seeing actually are than it was just taking in the atmosphere and beauty all around you.

The city is separated into a few main sectors. The easiest way to know you’re changing sectors is to cross the Grand Canal over a major bridge.

The first really major church we came to was the Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari. The church contains a bunch of interesting stuff, including the tomb of the painter Antonio Canova.

At this point, I do my rant about picture taking. I don’t know what the deal with forbidding photography in some churches is. It’s totally arbitrary, and often the smaller, less important places are way more strict about it. What, is Jesus worried he’ll be caught in a bad light? Seriously, the dude is omnipotent! He can’t take a bad picture unless he wants to, right?

Anyway, I separate churches into a few categories:

Pictures allowed: Take lots of pictures

Pictures not allowed (not enforced): Take some pictures

Pictures not allowed (strictly enforced): Take a few pictures

I may be going to hell if God really does get that upset over photography, but at least I get my photos!

Sometimes I had to go into full-on spy mode, resulting in pictures like this (in a different church):

More walking, more bridge crossing…

At this point we had reached the southern “coast” of the city, where you could see further out into the lagoon.

From here we headed north, crossing the Grand Canal again over the Ponte dell’Accademia.

Once we crossed from the Dorsoduro into the San Marco zone, we visited Chiesa di Santo Stefano, which had some features that were definitely unique. The ceiling had what is called a ship’s-keel design. It’s easier to explain just by showing the pictures. It’s the only one like that I’ve seen during my travels.

 

And then we arrived at the main attraction: Piazza San Marco. It’s huge. Like, really huge. And there are lots of pigeons. I was worried if I stood still for too long they might swarm and/or eat me. We walked across the piazza to find a super long line to get into Basilica di San Marco. Oh, no! So we took to the internet on my phone, where we bought a reservation for a couple euros, showed it to the guard, and walked right in!

Inside, San Marco is pretty amazing. Everything is gold and shiny with lots of domes, arches, and mosaics. This was another “no pictures” church, but you didn’t even have to act sneaky here. At one point a man walked by and said, to no one in particular, “No pictures please,” but in the most hopeless, defeated tone I have ever heard—he knew no one was going to listen.

While we were sitting and resting in one of the pews on the side, a choir of college-age girls congregated and started singing—cool! I could tell they weren’t Italian because their pronunciation of “Amazing Grace” was too good. Ele could tell they weren’t Italian because their pronunciation of “Ave Maria” was too horrible.

I guess some tales are too long to tell in one blog post. At this point it wasn’t even lunch time yet! I will be without internet starting tomorrow until I go home on Monday, so I guess I’ll have to finish Venice and tie up all the other loose ends from back in the USA. See you all on the other side!

Keep Your Shirt On!

I know you want a post on Venice. I know you want cool pictures from Rome. I’m working on it! My increased pace of stuff-doing in the last couple weeks means that not only do I have more to write about, I also have less time in which to write about it. Also, when you take around 200 photos per day, it takes a while just sorting through pictures. Good thing I keep these trips short! Anyway, in the mean time you will have to be satisfied with a post containing mostly words. You know, the things that you’re supposed to read before you look at the pictures.

While I was supposed to be in Milan to learn geology, I couldn’t help drawing some other conclusions and learning some stuff from my time here. Hopefully I’ll keep these things in mind in the future, wherever I’m living or traveling.

Sunset over Milan from my friend Michele’s house during Game of Thrones night.

Try harder at languages—you can speak better than you realize!

This goes both for me and for many of the people I met. There were classmates who (despite being really nice to me) hardly spoke to me for months, only for me to find out later on that they spoke totally understandable (if not quite perfect) English. I also sometimes avoided speaking Italian/French out of fear I’d get into a conversation I couldn’t complete, but most of the time when I found myself in a situation where I had no choice but to try, I acquitted myself pretty well. And trying is also a very important show of good faith. Once you show you’re willing to struggle in the other person’s language, they feel less worried about struggling in yours.

There are good people everywhere

From the family that took me in for my first week in Italy to the people of diverse nationalities in my French class in CF to the friends in Italy who made me a part of their group without a second thought, everywhere I went I met the nicest people and made great friends. Whenever I get down about humanity, I just need to think about how the vast, vast majority of people I have met on this journey have been wonderful, kind people.

Take advantage of travel opportunities

If there’s cool stuff near where you live, and you have the chance to see it tomorrow, you should do it! You don’t know if it’ll be as easy to do so in the future. In retrospect, if I had planned my traveling a little better and a little farther in advance, I probably could have visited more places than I did.

Additional travel lesson: Travel with friends

As noted previously, I walk really fast. I don’t take breaks. I do day trips to places that are supposed to take several and still see most of the sights. By myself, I can cover way more ground than I could ever cover traveling with other people. But you don’t win at sightseeing by seeing more things, and you don’t get a trophy for taking more pictures. The way you win at traveling is by having the most fun. And the trips I took that were the most fun were always the ones I did with other people, regardless of how much we actually saw.

Additional additional travel lesson: Traveling is fun and I want to do more of it

While during my first 23 years I’d traveled to many places in the US and Canada, I’d never been outside North America. And don’t get me wrong, that counts as traveling, and I love that, too! But it’s a different type of experience visiting another country with its own language, history, food, and culture that’s really different from yours. My passport doesn’t have too many stamps in it yet, but I hope to add more before too long!

How to cook

Living alone meant I either had to prepare my own meals or else spend a fortune at restaurants, and I’m glad I chose the first option. I’ve acquired a pretty useful life skill and found something I quite enjoy.

The internet is amazing

This trip would’ve been so much more difficult 10 years ago, before facebook and Skype. If I had to go a whole year with little to no contact with friends and family, I don’t think I would’ve been able to avoid getting homesick. Being able to see and talk to my family every week and write back and forth with my friends who were thousands of miles away really makes me appreciate the internet. Thanks, Al Gore!

The Naviglio Grande at night. It’s pretty when there’s actually water in it!

The Party is Here!

This past weekend, my friends Bea and Rino who live in the Piacenza region of Italy (who organized some of my previous excursions there) organized a day at the river and some other fun events to say goodbye to me before I leave.

After taking the train there on Saturday afternoon, we went to the Trebbia River to relax for a while. To get there, Rino gave me a ride on the back of his scooter, which was really amazing. Apparently Hemingway once called the Valle del Trebbia the most beautiful valley in the world. Now, normally I have two thumbs and don’t give a crap about what Hemingway thought (after all, he wrote the 100 page monstrosity that is The Old Man and the Sea), but in this case he may be onto something. Riding through the valley in the open air was really breathtaking. (Sorry for the lack of pictures, but I was a little preoccupied with not falling off the scooter!)

Once we got to the riverside, we went swimming, played volleyball, relaxed, etc.

On the way back, we passed near Bobbio, a medieval town with a cool bridge.

That night, we went to a festival with local food (Pisarei e Faso’), fun, and dancing. The festa certainly was qui!

After that, we stopped at another festival where the was a sort of hybrid traditional/rock concert from a band that sings in the Piacenza dialaect, Cani della Biscia.

After staying over for the night, the next day we drove (and some of us biked) to a different part of the valley.

I’ve said it before, but driving (in your vehicle of choice) through the Italian countryside is just awesome, with the hills rising and falling around you, and it’s something that I’m surprised isn’t as hyped as a thing worth doing on a visit to Italy.

 

Later, we stopped on the side of the road and some of us took a dip in the river.

[PICTURES REDACTED FOR NAKEDNESS]

We then stopped for lunch in the town of Brettola, which happens to be the hometown of Bersani, the former leader of the current majority center-left party in Italian government. There was a really nice church in the central piazza that was surprisingly different and beautiful for one in such a small town. Also, a statue of Cristoforo Colombo (don’t forget that he was Italian!).

And after that it was time to catch a train home! Thanks for a super weekend, everyone! If I don’t see you again before I leave it was a great last hoorah!