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.

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

Tuscany

If there is one place I could suggest for someone to visit in Italy, Tuscany would definitely be on the short list. It was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. It was winter time and a lot of the scenery was a crisp, clean white. The views we saw while there were absolutely breathtaking. I can only imagine the beauty in the summer, when the symbol of Tuscany blooms, il girasole- the sunflower.

We visited several places while we were there: Arezzo, Siena, and Pienza. We also visited Orvieto, which is in the region of Umbria. Each was resplendent in its own way.

Most of our time was spent visiting famous churches, museums, and walking around quaint, storybook towns. The buildings were appropriately aged, but not rundown and the hilly, winding streets could easily replace one's elliptical machine. I enjoyed rounding a corner and peering through one of the many keyhole type passageways that led down yet another one of the endless narrow streets.

Siena was strikingly medieval, and the Duomo of Siena was speechlessly beautiful. It commands visitors attention as they enter the piazza where it is located. Its architecture is crisp, clean, and intricate. The cathedral follows the style of medieval architecture. This is especially evident in the tower structure. I have to say, the architecture was one of my favorite parts of Tuscany. The only word I can use to try and appropriately describe the Duomo of Siena is magnificent. Any attempt I try to make at a description will not do it justice. It is something that must be personally experienced, enjoyed and marveled at.

While in Arezzo we saw the frescoes, or wall paintings, of Piero della Francesca in the church of St. Francis. I thoroughly enjoyed this part of the trip because I was excited to see first hand frescoes that I had previously studied in my art history classes back at Loyola. Seeing them in person meant much more than studying them from an image projector in a darkened classroom for the allotted hour and fifteen minute class. I find that my appreciation for even the smallest painting or sculpture has increased significantly since I have been in Italy.

I have to say one of my favorite activities of the Tuscany trip was our wine tasting at the Castel del Trebbio. Picture yourself in a 900 year old wine cellar. Modern day wine barrels surround you as you stand in the bowels of the castle. This is where the wine sleeps before it reaches the sunlight and its cork is popped for what ever occasion it has been rescued for. We walked through passageways and rooms filled with dust covered aging wine, following our guide to our final destination. If you have ever been on a wine tasting than you know there is a proper way to drink the wine to have the full experience. I enjoyed letting the full bodied flavors of the wine glide over my palate. Each wine was strategically paired with a food so as to bring out the best flavors. After the tasting we were presented with an exquisite meal, which wrapped up our evening. We re-entered the buses warm with wine and satisfied with good food and conversation.









I fell in love with Tuscany on this trip and I cannot wait until I return again, in the summer this time, to the land of the sunflowers...

http://www.paradoxplace.com/Perspectives/Italian%20Images/Montages/Tuscancountry/Sunflowers.htm