Wednesday, May 9, 2012

A Bitter Sweet Return to the US of A


Ciao Roma, I will miss you!

In the cabin of the boeing 767-400 I fought hard to block out thoughts of doing an immediate turn around back to Rome. It was extremely difficult for me to be leaving my home of the last 4 and a half months.

I dreaded the moment of touching down in Newark, New Jersey and walking through the airport of predominantly English speaking people. It has become a harsh language to my ears and I find myself increasingly annoyed to hear people speaking it around me.

This will no longer be a part of my everyday landscape...
weird.
I won't be seeing too many of these in N.Y.
            Of course I was glad to be reunited with family back in New York, but with every joy of being home there was a pang of longing to go back. I wasn’t ready to leave and I know I have a long road of adjustments ahead of me.

I can say with every fiber of my being that living in Rome was one of the most spectacular times of my life. The adventures I had, new friends I made, and cultural experiences I had are irreplaceable.

This time in my life helped me to grow and become a more independent person. I will forever remember my time in Italy and know that I will be returning in the not so distant future.

For now, as difficult as it is going to be for me, I will re-acclimate to American life and never forget how lucky I was to have such an experience.

A note to my readers:

Travel. Let yourself experience a different culture and a different way of life. It is the best education you can ever have.

Try not to be a tourist. Really immerse yourself. If possible stay in one place and make a home their, even if for a brief time.

 Get to know the place around you, don’t just breeze in and hit the tourist spots. Find local spots, hidden unknown places, and meet real people- the true locals.

Hopefully you will gain an experience similar to the one that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

Making a wish to return to the beautiful city of Rome!
That’s all for now and remember to always try and live “La Dolce Vita,” The Sweet Life…

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Côte d'Azur the Magnificent




I looked out at the Mediterranean, as blue and clear as turquoise glass.

The pictures I’d seen of the French Riviera were incomparable to experiencing it firsthand.

Smooth surfaced rocks littered the shore. The coastline, an endless stretch of pure heaven, instantly reminded me of my love for the sea.

The beach brings summer, relaxation, happiness, and has always held a calming element for me for as long as I can remember. 

After four amazing months in Rome, this was my last trip before heading back to America.

I leafed through my salt kissed pages and entered the mind of the author while I lay out in the early May sun.
 
As we lounged on the beach I could hear French speakers mixed in with the occasional English speaker. Once in a while my ear would pick up Italian, which I am now accustomed to listening to.

The beach we were on is not far from the airport. We could see its lights in the distance. Our close proximity to Nice’s airport was also evident by the roaring engines flying overhead every 20 minutes or so.

I’m glad my last trip got to be with close friends in an absolutely beautiful location. Four months ago I never would have imagined I’d be sitting on the beach on the French Riviera. I kept picturing Cary Grant and Grace Kelly in “To Catch a Thief” because this is where part of the movie was filmed (I love classic films and it was exciting to visit a site where one was filmed).

Nice is definitely a place for my readers to add to their bucket-lists. It’s beautiful, peaceful, has amazing foods, breathtaking scenery and offers a glimpse into the glamorous and well-known French Riviera. 

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Ahhh to Live in a Villa



When my mom came to visit me in Rome for ten days we decided to do and see as much as we possibly could. After our weekend trip to Barcelona for Easter she asked me to see more of Italy. The perfect idea came to mind. Tivoli (home to several beautiful, mostly intact villas). I had heard from friends who had visited how absolutely beautiful it is and that I should definitely try to visit if I had the time.
           
The two of us decided to go on Thursday because I had no class and the weather report said it was going to be a beautiful day. My host mom helped us with our plans and kept saying how perfect Tivoli was for a day trip. We were very excited to embark on our journey and when we arrived at our destination I can honestly say my friends words did not do the Villa d’Este justice. It was breathtaking.
          

The time, energy and money that went into the construction of this villa was obvious from the second we stepped into the courtyard. The details around the house were impeccable and the wall frescoes were rich in color and many told a story with there images. I could not believe that people had lived here. All of this for just one family? I found myself daydreaming about what it must have been like. Imagine waking up in such beauty and then deciding to head outside for some fresh air in the sprawling gardens laced with fountains and waterfalls. It was definitely a life I know I could easily get used to.
        
I enjoyed stumbling upon secluded areas, tucked away and out of sight. The grounds were designed in such a way to optimize serenity and peacefulness. My mom and I must have said, “Can you imagine….” A hundred times followed by some form of, “…living here; growing up here; being here in the summer; relaxing here; being a guest here, etc.” The two of us were completely smitten with the villa. We never wanted to leave because it was so peaceful and it felt like the gardens and fountains continued on endlessly.
           
I think the most fun and intriguing part of the day for me was imagining what life must have been like for the owners or even the friends of the owners. Just imagine owning a magnificent villa like this one, a paradise within itself. It is the perfect place to go and relax, even today with all of the tourism. When it was privately owned it must have been infinitely more tranquil than it is today. I also found myself thinking about how different things are today. This type of villa is not often constructed, especially not with all of the amazing detail and that covers the Villa d’Este.
          
All I can say to my readers is that if they find themselves with a free day to spare in Rome or not far from it, they should add a trip to Tivoli to visit the Villas to their list. They are an example of how luxurious and almost fantastical life was for a select few during the 16th century. 

Monday, April 30, 2012

Piazza di Spagna-Benvenuti alla Primavera!





With spring come warm days, longer nights, and a beauty that I had the chance to witness firsthand.

Every year like clockwork the already famed Spanish Steps are coated with hundreds of azaleas.

I was excited to catch a glimpse of something in person that I had seen countless times on postcards.

I walked out of the steel grey of the metro and into the warm spring air. I made my way along the now familiar path towards the steps.

I made a left, passing the man who sells roasted chestnuts; his face is the deep brown of worn leather- the product of too many years in the sun. 

Immediately I was confronted with a sea of colors, people from all over the world are milling around the piazza.

And then I saw them. The steps were dripping with the sweetest colors of pink, brilliant whites and carefully mixed in pale violets.

These colors of spring stand out against the lackluster, creamy grey marble color of the steps and the dull colors of the surrounding buildings.

I soak in every minute, appreciating how lucky I am to be here.

When I posed for a picture in front of a large arrangement of the magnificent flowers, my overly washed navy blue shirt paled in comparison to the brilliance of the fresh flowers. In the picture I disappear, the real focus is on the eye-catching rosy and snow-white colors.

This was one of my favorite moments in Rome. It was amazing to see how much more alive a place can look with the addition of the colors or spring. 

Roman Transportation: Sardines, Magic Tricks and Accordions



I’d like to share with my readers the experiences I’ve had with the public transportation in Rome.




THE METRO: 

I make it to the platform and wait for the iron worm to blast through the tunnel, blowing the suspiciously cool air into my hair.

It glides to a stop and the machine lets out a deep sigh.

The doors screech open and I glide through, to my predetermined position.

It’s 8am and rush hour. The completely over used cliché comes to mind, “These people are packed like sardines in here…” With this thought came the realization that I was about to become one of those unpleasant members of the sardine can.

We pass through a few stops and than I hear that all too familiar sound, the screechy off key accordion.

The young mismatched boy in corduroys, a striped shirt and patterned jacket, takes uneasy steps while rhythmically playing the oversized, obnoxious sounding instrument.

He sways from side to side with the unsteady rocking of the metro cars, making uncomfortable eye contact with people not willing to give him any money.

When he has finished his rendition of some unknown song he slings the heavy instrument tied to a cord around his shoulder and holds out an old beat-up McDonald’s paper cup (I’d guess it to be a large size soft drink) and shakes it from side to side. We all hear the lonely coins clanking against one another.

Once he’s finished with this particular car, he shimmies down to the next one in hopes of a better bounty.

THE NEXT ACT:

Sometimes the metro is hollow, void of an over crowded mass of people breathing the same air. These are my favorite times and some of the most entertaining.

I’m 7 stops away from reaching the familiarity of my own stop, Ponte Lungo. The warning bell pings in my ears as the doors glide back and I watch as a man walks in.

He has an army green square bag on his shoulder and he’s dressed normally. Then his voice cuts above the volume of my headphones as he makes some type of announcement. I glance at his hands and see he is holding 2 small red plastic looking balls.

The man reaches up to his mouth pops one in than swallows…WHAT THE HECK?

Than, POOF! He pulls it out of his ear. Immediately it clicks. His act? MAGIC TRCIKS.

Of course the Magic Man has an ulterior motive. Money.  I watch candidly as he does a few more tricks. I avoid eye contact for fear I’ll be his next choice for audience participation.

I’ve seen and heard many peculiar things aboard Rome’s underground beast, but the Magic Man was a new one.

Hey, if his act can set him apart from the herd than why not?

…I wonder what I’ll see tomorrow.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Finding the Light in Puerta del Sol

Falling in love with a foreign place at first glance seems like a cliché. I don't care how corny it sounds, but for me Madrid was that place.

I could go on talking forever about my experience there, but instead I want to share my feelings about one of Madrid's most famous areas, Puerta del Sol. Literally translated, it means the door of the sun.

When we arrived in the piazza I fell in love. After almost a week of little to no sun in Prague and Berlin I was beyond thrilled with the warmer weather.

Walking into the Puerta del Sol 
I removed my jacket and allowed my skin to breath in the fresh air and soak up the rays of the sun. 

This was a moment of pure bliss. I shut my eyes and angled my face towards the sun. There was something comforting about it there, amongst the swarm of natives and tourists. I enjoyed listening to the sounds of the crowd and watching the individuals dressed as Dora the Explorer and Spongebob wave and try to get people to takes pictures with them. 

I was hungry, so I found a pastry shop at the edge of the piazza and went in. The delicious smells filled my nose and I was immediately hungrier than I had been about 2 minutes before I walked in. 

DELICIOUS pastry for breakfast!
Using my beginner level Spanish I picked out a circular donut looking pastry. It was sticky, and had shavings on the top and had some type of filling on the inside. If you're someone who counts calories don't even bother walking into one of these shops or much less eating what I did. Honestly though, I could care less. One of the best ways to experience a culture is through it's food and this is something I fully intended to do.


I paid and walked back out into the sunshine. There was a fountain just off center in the piazza and I was lucky enough to find a space. I sat down with my "breakfast" and then spent the next 5 minutes devouring my delicious treat. It still makes me laugh how breakfasts in both Italy and Spain consist of pastries and cookies. I think this may be part of the reason I love it here so much :)

I'll never forget the pure happiness I felt wandering around Madrid. The atmosphere, the people and the city itself were spectacular. The amount of beauty throughout the city completely mesmerized me. 

There have been several moments throughout my travels and time spent in Rome that I have felt complete and utter happiness. The moment I entered the Puerta del Sol was one of those moments. 

Standing still in the middle of the open square, absorbing the rays of the sun I felt at peace. 

Fountain in Puerta del Sol
I was only in Madrid for 2 short days, but I'm most certainly not done with this city. I'll be heading back in the future, back to that moment in the Puerta del Sol, eating my favorite sticky pastry and immersing myself in the culture.

Welcome to Prague...Or Not

This post about my adventures in Prague is long overdue, but better late than never!

Up until this point I realize I have been doing a lot of informative writing, but not many personal stories. So from this point on I will be sharing specific events and encounters that will hopefully provide my readers with a better glimpse into my abroad experience.

Now back to Prague...

Prague was at the top of my list when I was planning my trips. I had this idea in my head of how wonderful it was going to be. Let me just say certain things did not meet my expectations. The beauty of the small city is remarkable, but some of its inhabitants were less than helpful. I don't know if it was the frigid weather in the middle of March or the fact that I was pretty sure I had strep throat that sullied my Praha experience.

Yes, I marveled at the architecture and the history of the city and I could go on for days describing how amazing the cultural aspect of my visit was, but instead I'd like to share the story of my first 20 minutes there.

My friend Meghan and I had just arrived, it was late, cold, and we had little to no clue as to the location of our hostel.



Frustrated and confused at the completely indecipherable Czech language I decided it was time to be a complete tourist and ask someone directions.

The only word I could make out here is "Banka" aka BANK.
Surrounded by souvenir shops I figured they would be our best chance. I sucked it up and chose to be the one to go in and ask. I walk in to an abnormally packed shop given the late hour and walked to a woman standing by the door, who I assumed was working there. I assumed correctly, but the response I received was not one I expected.

My strategy was to point to the street name we needed to find on our paper with the directions and hope that she understood. I walk over, held out the paper, pointed, and ask slowly, "do you know which way this street is."

The beautiful Charles Bridge
The response: "No, no that is not my job, I have customers, there is tourist place someplace else..." Accompanying this response was an agitated, borderline nasty facial expression and mean tone.

Needless to say I walked away still confused, shocked and really ticked off at her rudeness.

I don't know why, but that moment has stuck with me. Starting my break off with this woman, who was quite frankly doing nothing but standing there and not helping a single person.

Luckily the rest of our time in Prague went a lot smoother and my other encounters with natives were much less abrasive. But this is something I won't forget. It will be a story I will carry with me back to the states, never again taking for granted the helpful attitude of the people I have met in Rome and other cities.

What I can say from that experience is that I properly learned how to pronounce the street we needed to find, Vodičkova (pronounced: vo-ditch-ka-va) street. The one and only Czech word I learned correctly because it meant finding our place to sleep for the night or not. I guess I can owe some of that to the less than friendly shop lady. After our encounter I made sure I knew the name of the street so I wouldn't sound completely clueless incase I had to ask someone else.
Famous clock in Old Time Square