Ciao ancora tutti... we know we JUST wrote a blog before this one.. but we had two weekends to get through. Our apologies!
This past weekend.. we were separated. Gasp! Sob! How we made it through... God only knows. But we survived. And we are here now to tell our woeful tale.
Part 1: Katie wistfully wanders the markets and wiles away whilst working. Ari vomits viciously at this very vapid and aw screw it nauseating description. Katie resents this attack on her attempts to poetically and emo-etically describe her "pain." No, really though, it wasn't that bad.
Friday, Katie parked it in a cafe for hours to work on her first slideshow presentation (for History of Italy), then headed out for a night of conversation with the few remaining program members. Then... she watched a movie. Then.. she woke up Saturday and went to a cafe. And worked for hours on her second presentation (for History of Music). Then... she watched a movie. Then.. she woke up Sunday and...
...
... went to a cafe. And worked for several hours on her presentations. And, naturally, read a book and watched a movie. Except that... wait.. that night was Luca's (Katie's host dad) birthday party!! It consisted of many incredible courses, lots of wine-tasting, silly old hard-of-hearing nonni that grilled Katie about America and Obama, and funny conversations with the younger Italians in the family. Also.. the hands-down best dessert that Katie has ever experienced: butter cake. It is something like a cross between creme caramel and pound cake... unbelievable. She was delirious in her happiness and dessert coma.
Here Katie must mention that she is being slightly melodramatic. First off, the time at the cafe was also spent flirting with the barmen and exchanging words in Italian/English. She actually spent a TON of time walking through Padova, which has turned into one giant outdoor market in preparation for Christmas. So literally the entire city is covered in lights and all of the piazze are filled with rows and rows of stalls containing everything from clothing to toys to candy to purses to local food specialties. It is amazing.
Monday! Ari came back! And we hung out IMMEDIATELY. After hours of telling our respective tales over tea, we walked through the city back to Ari's house.
Part 2: Ari becomes a Wiener for a weekend
After regretfully parting with Katie for her first solo trip (kind of, she was with a group of seven other girls) Ari headed off to Vienna! (Or Wien, as the Wieners call it). She arrived in Vienna, and after a significant amount of bickering about the best kind of transportation (the other girls...not Ari, who refused to participate in their all-too-frequent catty and obnoxious overreactions), we ended up at our hostel. One of Ari's big goals for the trip was to see an opera at the famous State Opera House in Vienna, since they sell standing-room tickets for only 4 Euro (an amazing deal). So all of us headed into central Vienna, where we were immediately amazed at the quantity and size of the Christmas decorations and lights that are hung up all over the city. She had heard that Vienna went all out for Christmas, but she had no idea it was to this extent. There were giant lit chandeliers hanging down one of the main streets, Giant red ball-ornaments glowing in another street, and all the buildings were decorated. Enormous decorated Christmas trees graced every street corner, and the town hall's stained-glass windows were turned into an advent calendar. It looked like the North Pole moved south and relocated in Vienna, sans elves (the Austrian people are actually rather strapping and tall). Anyway, we made our way over to the opera house to find out how it all worked, and if we could get in line. We were informed that the wait was about an hour and a half for standing room tickets, so most of the other girls decided it wasn't worth the wait. Three of us, however, were stout of heart, and really wanted to see the opera that night (Barber of Seville). So we waited in line, eating our first of many traditional Austrian wieners (wurstel), that are not only ENORMOUS but beyond delicious. After waiting, we soon discovered that we had definitely made the right decision, because the standing room area was center orchestra, right behind the seats. It was unbelievable! We had a perfect view, and although standing for three hours got a little tiring on our feet, we were still so excited. The opera was fantastic...such a cool experience! Afterwards, we were a little hungry, so we discovered that in downtown Vienna at midnight there is a late-night sushi place, so we stopped there for our first European sushi experience. It was delicious...surprisingly. Afterwards we headed back to the hostel for a much-needed, but unfortunately brief sleep.
The next morning, a group of the girls wanted to leave early in the morning, and the three of us who had gone to the opera were less willing. So we slept a bit more, and then headed off to tour the lovely palace of the Habsburg empire. We walked through the Kaiser apartments, which are full of thousands of solid gold plates and such (apparently the Habsburgs were big on fancy dinnerware) and an interesting museum on the assassinated empress "Sisi". After that, we headed over to one of Vienna's many famous Christmas markets. This one was enormous, incredibly festive, and completely decorated. After yet another Viennese wiener and a mug of "beerenpunsch" which is kind of like hot cider with rum and chunks of strawberry floating in it, we did some shopping. The market was huge, and packed full of locals, which was really fun. They have everything Christmas-related at these markets, from ornaments to candles, to handmade wooden windmill thingies that turn when you light candles under them. It was so much fun. After a few hours of shopping and wandering, we met up with the other girls to go to the famous Viennese giant Ferris wheel. We got a pretty view of Vienna at night at the top, and when we came down, a few of us went immediately back to the hostel for a short nap. When we woke up we were hungry, so we looked up a close restaurant and headed over. There we had a very Austrian meal of beef soup and a giant dumpling (stuffed with sausage) surrounded by sour kraut. Not exactly something Ari expected to enjoy, but it was actually pretty good. And you have to try the local food...it's part of the experience! Then we headed down to the hostel bar (called the WomBar, because the hostel was called Wombat's). There we had a few free WomDrinks that we bought with our WomBucks. Then bedtime.
The next day we had reserved for the Schonnbrunn Palace, just outside of town. This is where the Habsburgs spend their summers, and there are acres and acres of beautiful gardens stretching out behind it. Sadly, since it is winter, the gardens were slightly....dead. But still pretty. In front of the palace was yet another Christmas market, where we did some more shopping and ate lunch (traditional potato zuppen in a bread bowl). Afterwards, we hopped back on the subway and went to the Museum of Fine Arts. There Ari discovered that she is an incredibly slow museum-goer. Apparently so is Katie, which is why we never noticed it before. But Ari realized that in the time it took the other two girls to go through the ENTIRE museum, she finished just the section with the painting galleries. But there was a beautiful painting by Caravaggio that is now on Ari's list of favorite art from the trip. After that we had tea in the circular cafe the runs around the dome of the museum, and looks down onto the mosaic floor. Truly the entrance fee was worth it just to see the inside...this place is a palace! All marble and statues everywhere, beautifully architected.
Afterwards we briefly stopped at the famous St. Stephens cathedral in the central square before meeting the other girls for dinner. Then Ari had her first Wiener Schnitzel!! It was...not what she expected. But tasty...and followed by Apfel Strudel! This was as she expected, and amazing. Those Wieners sure know their strudel. Then, bedtime.
The next morning was chock full of more annoying transportation-related drama. But it all worked out, and we made it back to Padova in one piece (although Ari had to restrain herself on more than one occasion from punching certain offending females directly in the face).
In conclusion, Vienna was fabulous, beautiful, and full of happy Christmas spirit. But Ari decided she does not like traveling without Katie. At all. It makes her feel...incomplete. Like she is missing a part of her body. Like an arm. Or perhaps more appropriate, a butt cheek. She always felt out of balance, without Katie attached to her...um...side. Katie wishes that she could resent being attributed to this body part... but honestly... how awful would it be to be missing half of your butt? Pretty awful. Truly though, we really do travel well together. It is rare to find somebody who shares the same priorities and interests while traveling, who will simultaneously crack the necessary jokes and provide the necessary snuggles. So needless to say as soon as she stepped off the bus in Padova, her phone came out, and she immediately met up with Katie.
Part 3: Il Culo Dimezzato
... and the world was turned right side up. Ari's butt (and, subsequently, Katie's) eventually became whole again. After many hours of shmooshing and chatting, we made our way to Ari's house for a wee bit of Alessandro time, and then to dinner before KARAOKE!! The student Christmas party was at a karaoke bar, so we spent many hours listening to painful renditions of American songs by the locals (as well as one particular character, Stefano, who was by himself, randomly singing sad Italian songs up on stage), and had a MASSIVE dance party. Songs included the Beatles... Four Non Blondes... Spice Girls... and many of the classic "karaoke hits." It was spectacular and we are ashamed to say that there is PLENTY of video evidence that we hope will not make it as far as youtube.
This week has been spent frantically (in Ari's case) trying to get our work done. Katie had a presentation Tuesday, we both had one Wednesday, we both had finals on Thursday AND Friday (plus an oral final), and now we are glad this week is over. But we have miles yet to go before we sleep...On Monday we have another final, and on Wednesday we have a paper due. But since Tyler is coming on Sunday (YAYYYY!!!) we need to get all that done this weekend, simultaneously getting all of our remaining shopping and Padova-time in before we come home. So we are very busy girls!
Just to let you all know, we are planning two more blog entries after this one: one to talk about this weekend and the visit of the silliest male relative in the land, then one more to talk about our reflections on the semester and some of our favorite (and/or least favorite) experiences, foods, churches, etc. It will probably be painfully long, but we will endeavor to make it interesting and entertaining.
We love you all very much!!! One week and counting...
~le ragazze
Friday, December 12, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
I Piedi Nudi!
Caro Friends, Family, Loved Ones...
We know that it has been a shamefully long span of time since we wrote last, and for this we are sorry. Forgive us. Disclaimer out of the way...
PARIS!!
So while all of you were cozy in your respective homes, getting fat on turkey and stuffing, we spent Thanksgiving in transit: morning of school, Katie had drama when she left her passport at the (closed and locked and empty) school (don't worry, we got it back), bus to Treviso, plane to Beauvais, bus to Paris, cab to Laura's. In sum... we traveled a lot. We stayed with a friend from Northwestern, Laura Heely, in her apartment in the Latin Quarter, near Notre Dame. Thanks to her wonderful hospitality, we had a nice clean sofa bed in which we snuggled all night long (it was cold, don't judge us). Ari discovered that Katie has a nasty habit of wiggling her freezing cold "piedi nudi" (naked feet) under Ari's nice, warm body. She doesn't feel the least bit remorseful about this. "Nope. Not really. It worked out pretty well for me, actually," Katie says with a cheeky grin. Anyway, enough of that.
The first morning, Ari's friend Patrick traveled up from Peau (we might be spelling that wrong) to meet us in Paris. We were very excited to see yet another familiar face! Then Laura had the genius idea to show us around the local markets, and procure a "brioche buffet" to properly welcome us to Paris. We brought breakfast back to her place, which consisted of a fresh-out-of-the-oven baguette with brie, and a melange of pastries to taste and share. We were absolutely floored at the sheer amazingness of the French pastries...we've never had anything like them. So flaky and chocolatey and fantastic. Our favorite: pain au raisin. (raisin bread, which we had for breakfast all three mornings...we're loyal). Then Laura became tour guide for the morning, showing us briefly around the Latin quarter, past Notre Dame, and into Marais (the very trendy gay district). We had lots of fun doing our first Parisian window shopping (they have some quirky shops in the area) and then stopped for the "best falafel in Paris." Apparently... falafel is a big deal in Paris, and we have to testify to its tastiness: well done, Marais. Afterward, Laura left to do some school stuff and we wandered back over to see the interior of the famous Notre Dame. It was lovely and large and filled with stained glass... we did not, however, see the hunchback, much to our dismay.
That afternoon we walked all the way down the Seine River (GORGEOUS walk, btw) until we arrived at the Musée d'Orsay, where we raced through at breakneck pace to see as much as we could in the last 2 hours that it was open. We succeeded in seeing some really cool masks, the amazing impressionist section, some Picasso, and some incredible neoclassical sculpture... before it closed. And we were sad and decided that a return was necessary. But as it was time to leave, we hopped the metro to the Bastille (a most phallic looking monument to a French ruler). After some refreshment, we met up with a large group of other Americans that we had assembled to celebrate Thanksgiving, French-style. We followed the very wise advice of "Frommer" (guide book) and found a cute restaurant nearby that was willing to accommodate our loud and boisterous group. There we enjoyed possibly the most delicious meal of all time. The two of us did our usual thing, and decided to split two different entrees. Ari had the "boeuf" with Roquefort sauce and Katie had the "saumon" with caviar on top. They were both UNBELIEVABLE and incredibly cheap, considering. After lots of wine, creme brulee, and merriment, we decided to drag our overfull bodies home to sleep. Which we did not do for a long time because Katie chose that inopportune moment to be...hilarious. She had Ari laughing (and not sleeping) into the wee hours of the morning.
Saturday we woke up slightly later than planned because it proved difficult to emerge from our warm, snuggly cocoon that we had created for ourselves. I guess if the two of us ever share an apartment, we will need separate beds, or we'll never get anywhere on time. Who knew that it would be so dang hard to leave each other in the morning to venture out into the cruel, cold-floored world...of Laura's bathroom. Sigh. Then we were late meeting friends in Montmartre at the famous Sacre Coeur church, but when we got there we were presented with a beautiful view of all of Paris from the top of a hill. Sacre Coeur itself is up there on our list of favorite European churches for its simplicity and good energy. (It also didn't hurt that there was a group of nuns singing hymns while we were inside). After climbing back down from a quasi-religious experience, we headed toward the infamous red-light district nearby. There we took very touristy photos in front of the Moulin Rouge (Ari learned that this means "Red Windmill") and then went to the BUSIEST market ever in existence. It was borderline terrifying how many yelling, pushing, shopping people were crammed into such a relatively small space. At some points it was actually impossible to move. But we bought some clementines, olives, baguettes, cheese, and French alcoholic cider (a traditional local drink). We took it back to the hostel our friends were staying at and had an indoor picnic (since it was raining outside).
After lunch, we headed to the Arc du Triumph, then shopped our way down the Champs Elysees, until we reached a very famous pastry shop where Ari tasted her first macaroon (who knew they weren't all little coconut cookie things (Katie, that's who, you son of a silly person)). We tasted some interesting flavors.. examples: rose, violet and blackcurrant, bitter chocolate, lemon, coffee, vanilla, hazelnut, etc. AMAZING. After feeling a little shopped out, we took the metro to a random neighborhood, where we temporarily parted ways. Ari, Patrick, and other friends sat and had tea and crepes. Katie and Laura wandered the modern art area and eventually had drinks and crepes as well, along with a healthy dose of politically and philosophically charged conversation. An hour or so later, we all met up again for French onion soup and croque-monsieur, before making our way back to the Latin quarter. Turns out, there were a ton of outdoor shows going on.. so we stopped and watched some pretty men doing dance tricks (all the female members of the group were happy... as was Patrick). Then we returned to the apartment for several hours of chat and Northwestern gossip with Laura.
Sunday morning was filled with touristy last minute activities. We packed up our things and met with Patrick to see the nearby Pantheon and Luxembourg gardens (which were almost painfully picturesque, with little old men sailing boats in the fountain!). We ran over to see the Eiffel Tower, but decided not to go up in favor of time for other things. We said our sweet goodbyes to Patrick beneath the Eiffel Tower and it was all very romantic and sappy. After a final Parisian lunch, we literally ran in and out of the Louvre to see the glass pyramid (another reason that we absolutely must return), then up the Champs Elysees to the bus station. We flew back to Treviso, played cards in the airport for a while, then took the bus/train combo home to the sounds of a rowdy Disney-sing-a-long.
We sadly realized that this trip was our last that we would take together here on our Excellent Adventure...other than little visits to Venice and whatnot. We are becoming very melancholy and pensive of late. But enough of that for now... Today is Friday (two weeks since Paris) so we have a good amount of updating to do. Forgive us our lateness...perhaps we have adapted too well to the European lifestyle!
molti baci!
~le ragazze
We know that it has been a shamefully long span of time since we wrote last, and for this we are sorry. Forgive us. Disclaimer out of the way...
PARIS!!
So while all of you were cozy in your respective homes, getting fat on turkey and stuffing, we spent Thanksgiving in transit: morning of school, Katie had drama when she left her passport at the (closed and locked and empty) school (don't worry, we got it back), bus to Treviso, plane to Beauvais, bus to Paris, cab to Laura's. In sum... we traveled a lot. We stayed with a friend from Northwestern, Laura Heely, in her apartment in the Latin Quarter, near Notre Dame. Thanks to her wonderful hospitality, we had a nice clean sofa bed in which we snuggled all night long (it was cold, don't judge us). Ari discovered that Katie has a nasty habit of wiggling her freezing cold "piedi nudi" (naked feet) under Ari's nice, warm body. She doesn't feel the least bit remorseful about this. "Nope. Not really. It worked out pretty well for me, actually," Katie says with a cheeky grin. Anyway, enough of that.
The first morning, Ari's friend Patrick traveled up from Peau (we might be spelling that wrong) to meet us in Paris. We were very excited to see yet another familiar face! Then Laura had the genius idea to show us around the local markets, and procure a "brioche buffet" to properly welcome us to Paris. We brought breakfast back to her place, which consisted of a fresh-out-of-the-oven baguette with brie, and a melange of pastries to taste and share. We were absolutely floored at the sheer amazingness of the French pastries...we've never had anything like them. So flaky and chocolatey and fantastic. Our favorite: pain au raisin. (raisin bread, which we had for breakfast all three mornings...we're loyal). Then Laura became tour guide for the morning, showing us briefly around the Latin quarter, past Notre Dame, and into Marais (the very trendy gay district). We had lots of fun doing our first Parisian window shopping (they have some quirky shops in the area) and then stopped for the "best falafel in Paris." Apparently... falafel is a big deal in Paris, and we have to testify to its tastiness: well done, Marais. Afterward, Laura left to do some school stuff and we wandered back over to see the interior of the famous Notre Dame. It was lovely and large and filled with stained glass... we did not, however, see the hunchback, much to our dismay.
That afternoon we walked all the way down the Seine River (GORGEOUS walk, btw) until we arrived at the Musée d'Orsay, where we raced through at breakneck pace to see as much as we could in the last 2 hours that it was open. We succeeded in seeing some really cool masks, the amazing impressionist section, some Picasso, and some incredible neoclassical sculpture... before it closed. And we were sad and decided that a return was necessary. But as it was time to leave, we hopped the metro to the Bastille (a most phallic looking monument to a French ruler). After some refreshment, we met up with a large group of other Americans that we had assembled to celebrate Thanksgiving, French-style. We followed the very wise advice of "Frommer" (guide book) and found a cute restaurant nearby that was willing to accommodate our loud and boisterous group. There we enjoyed possibly the most delicious meal of all time. The two of us did our usual thing, and decided to split two different entrees. Ari had the "boeuf" with Roquefort sauce and Katie had the "saumon" with caviar on top. They were both UNBELIEVABLE and incredibly cheap, considering. After lots of wine, creme brulee, and merriment, we decided to drag our overfull bodies home to sleep. Which we did not do for a long time because Katie chose that inopportune moment to be...hilarious. She had Ari laughing (and not sleeping) into the wee hours of the morning.
Saturday we woke up slightly later than planned because it proved difficult to emerge from our warm, snuggly cocoon that we had created for ourselves. I guess if the two of us ever share an apartment, we will need separate beds, or we'll never get anywhere on time. Who knew that it would be so dang hard to leave each other in the morning to venture out into the cruel, cold-floored world...of Laura's bathroom. Sigh. Then we were late meeting friends in Montmartre at the famous Sacre Coeur church, but when we got there we were presented with a beautiful view of all of Paris from the top of a hill. Sacre Coeur itself is up there on our list of favorite European churches for its simplicity and good energy. (It also didn't hurt that there was a group of nuns singing hymns while we were inside). After climbing back down from a quasi-religious experience, we headed toward the infamous red-light district nearby. There we took very touristy photos in front of the Moulin Rouge (Ari learned that this means "Red Windmill") and then went to the BUSIEST market ever in existence. It was borderline terrifying how many yelling, pushing, shopping people were crammed into such a relatively small space. At some points it was actually impossible to move. But we bought some clementines, olives, baguettes, cheese, and French alcoholic cider (a traditional local drink). We took it back to the hostel our friends were staying at and had an indoor picnic (since it was raining outside).
After lunch, we headed to the Arc du Triumph, then shopped our way down the Champs Elysees, until we reached a very famous pastry shop where Ari tasted her first macaroon (who knew they weren't all little coconut cookie things (Katie, that's who, you son of a silly person)). We tasted some interesting flavors.. examples: rose, violet and blackcurrant, bitter chocolate, lemon, coffee, vanilla, hazelnut, etc. AMAZING. After feeling a little shopped out, we took the metro to a random neighborhood, where we temporarily parted ways. Ari, Patrick, and other friends sat and had tea and crepes. Katie and Laura wandered the modern art area and eventually had drinks and crepes as well, along with a healthy dose of politically and philosophically charged conversation. An hour or so later, we all met up again for French onion soup and croque-monsieur, before making our way back to the Latin quarter. Turns out, there were a ton of outdoor shows going on.. so we stopped and watched some pretty men doing dance tricks (all the female members of the group were happy... as was Patrick). Then we returned to the apartment for several hours of chat and Northwestern gossip with Laura.
Sunday morning was filled with touristy last minute activities. We packed up our things and met with Patrick to see the nearby Pantheon and Luxembourg gardens (which were almost painfully picturesque, with little old men sailing boats in the fountain!). We ran over to see the Eiffel Tower, but decided not to go up in favor of time for other things. We said our sweet goodbyes to Patrick beneath the Eiffel Tower and it was all very romantic and sappy. After a final Parisian lunch, we literally ran in and out of the Louvre to see the glass pyramid (another reason that we absolutely must return), then up the Champs Elysees to the bus station. We flew back to Treviso, played cards in the airport for a while, then took the bus/train combo home to the sounds of a rowdy Disney-sing-a-long.
We sadly realized that this trip was our last that we would take together here on our Excellent Adventure...other than little visits to Venice and whatnot. We are becoming very melancholy and pensive of late. But enough of that for now... Today is Friday (two weeks since Paris) so we have a good amount of updating to do. Forgive us our lateness...perhaps we have adapted too well to the European lifestyle!
molti baci!
~le ragazze
Monday, November 24, 2008
"I need a jizdenky to Nádraží Holešovice... ishk."
And now: Our journey to the land of excessive consonants and unidentifiable accent marks.
Thursday morning (the crack at the dawn, Ari says, and then quickly takes back when she realizes Katie might actually type it in the blog), we arose and finished packing and headed for the first time to the bus station. After some difficulty in the navigational sphere, we eventually made our way to Treviso airport, outside of Venice. Katie was especially concerned about our difficulty in getting through the extremely lengthy lines of security for all 10 of the completely deserted gates at the airport, and so we were early. Just early enough to enjoy our last Italian(ish) meal of the weekend (for the first time)! From there on out, it was all dumplings and goulash. We arrived, had some extreme issues trying to figure out how to get the bus we needed while standing in the significantly more freezing country of the Czech Republic. Some hilarity arose when we realized that we do not, in fact, speak Czech. Nor, much to our dismay, can we pronounce it. We got a lot of blank looks when we asked for directions to places like Vystevista (insert 2 to 3 bizarre accent marks over this), but we found that if we added "ishk" to the end of every word... we sounded more Czech. To us. We also discovered another thing that the Czech's are famous for: HUGE spiders. They are, luckily, afraid of humans and easy to kill, but we found several in our room and many in the train station. Seriously... they must feed them something different over here (we are thinking dumplings and goulash made from the bodies of tourists). After checking in at the hostel, we wandered back into the freezing rain to find a place to eat. That night we spent a grand total of 9ishk American dollars each for: genuine Czech beer (they are famous for the quality of their beer, and are known as the beer capital of the world), soup (either potato chunk or garlic chunk depending on the person), beef goulash, sirloin with sauce, and dumplings. Turns out, dumplings are like dense, shmooshy, moist bread balls. Also turns out, the Czech economy is still somewhat suffering communist backlash and we reap the benefits of their cheap, meaty food. As it turns out, this cheap meaty food has the amazing power of making the eater feel exactly like what they ate, afterwards. Cheap, meaty dumplingishks we were, yet happy. When we returned to the hostel, we played cards and made friends with some silly Australians, who told us all about their ridiculous adventures in Amsterdam's red light district. Scary stuff. Enough said. But they were cool guys.
The next morning, we ate a terrible hostel breakfast and headed out to explore the biggest castle compound in all of Europe: Prague Castle! We wandered the charmingly medieval courtyards before entering the old castle hall. This is when we first noticed how unbelievably different the architecture is in comparison to Italy. We like castles and it made us very happy. Then our bodies were exhausted from all the effort that they were expending in trying to keep us warm...so we took a brief pause in the castle café where we tried two delicious warm drinks (hot mulled wineishk in Katie's case, a local specialty, and hot chocolate with amaretto, which made Ari's taste buds do a little dance). Afterwards, the cold much less noticeable, we saw a little basilica and then the massive St. Vitus Cathedral. Its dark Gothic spires are a shocking contrast to the tame church facades that we have previously seen and instead of frescoes on the walls, there were rows of enormous stained glass windows that cast a beautiful, multi-colored glow on the interior of the church. Katie was mildly distracted from the holiness of the situation by the abundance of beautiful, multi-lingual men casting their "glow" on the interior of the church. Then we walked over to the Golden Lane, a row of adorable little colored houses where the castle alchemists used to live. Now, there are towers with exhibits of medieval armor and weapons, as well as cool little stores with typical Czech products, like wooden toys, black glass jewelry, goblets, and marionetteishks. Katie bought some pretty woolen mittens for her icy fingers (despite Ari's best attempts to generously supply the necessary body heat). After exiting the compound, we tried to visit St. Nicholas' (closed) church, and ended up crossing the river on the famous Charles Bridge, which is beautiful and gothic and covered in creepy dark statues. Prague was really interesting decoration-wise, because there is a real mix of simple colorful French buildings, and dark, heavily-ornamented, often-creepy architecture. We were reminded of the Beast's castle (of Disney's Beauty and the Beast) in the ending fight scene. Anyone? That is what it is like, down to the gargoyleishks.
Then we had a FEAST. Literally, it was called "Old Bohemian Feast for two" on the menu. It consisted of beer from the brewery in the basement of the restaurant, three different types of dumplings, potato pancakes, two types of stewed cabbage (who would have thought we would love it, it's delicious), roast duck, smoked pork shank, braised pork neck (also delicious), and chocolate/nut crepes (another local specialty, made differently from the crepes that we are used to). It was... obscenely inexpensive and unbelievably satisfying to our meat-starved Italian diets.
Then...a funny thing happened. We were saddened by our inability to visit Amsterdam, and in light of all the talk from the Australians at the hostel, felt that we were being fundamentally deprived of an important European experience: Absinth.
So when we passed a local grocery store with a large display of said spirit, we decided to supplement our previously made plan of relaxing at the hostel with a little bit of...spirit. Along with beer, Czech absinth is much-loved and very traditional to the area, and we firmly believe in trying out all of the local customs when we travel, as well as supporting local producers. Sticking it to the man, if you will. So we purchased two, tiny (we swear) bottles of this enticing green liquid with mysterious bits of herbs and twig bits floating around in it, and went back to our hostel. After purchasing what we hoped would be an adequate chaser to counteract the legendary horrific taste of the drink, we closed ourselves up in our room, fashioned two cups out of an empty waterbottle, and figured out how to set Ari's camera to "automatic timer" to document the experience. Fun fact: it tastes like gasoline, rubbing alcohol, herbs, and licorice. We set the camera, took the shot, and while trying our very best to swallow said shot... the camera went off. The picture... is perfect. Katie looks like she is about to burst into tears and Ari looks like she is going to lose every bit of dumpling she had consumed. Priceless. Then... we repeated the process and downed the entire bottle of orange juice (affectionately referred to as "Cappy") in a futile attempt to wash away the taste. We chilled on the bed and listened to music for a bit, until we started to feel the most undeniable urge to giggle uncontrollably. The effects are interesting: nonstop laughter, relaxed body, and a feeling of utter stupidity. As we put it in the unfortunate video that Katie had the presence of mind to take... "Katie's got a fuzzy wooly blanket on her." "No Ari, it's on my brain." Translation: it was hard to think? We were stupid? We could not form sentences well? All of the above. Suffice to say... we had our experience (thankfully, in a closed, controlled environment). Disclaimerishk: we would never have done this if it weren't for the fact that we were safely ensconced in our hostel room, had full stomachs, and no other substances. For any of you who may be interested in doing the Absinth thing, do not drink any alcohol first. It would be dumb and you would suffer.
Saturday, we gave in to our most shameful urges, and had our first Starbucks of the trip. For Katie, a grande gingerbread latté (because regular coffee sucks in Prague, especially after Italian coffee), for Ari, a grande no-water vanilla chai, and muffins for both of us. We retreated happily into the familiar atmosphere and gave ourselves over to the wave of nostalgia that promptly set in. It was surprisingly difficult to head back into the cold, but we walked a short block to St. Nicolas' church, where we spent several hours in awe at this intense example of the Baroque style. Every inch of the pink and cream stone inside is ornamented and every flat surface housed a life-size statue with tasteful gold filigree. We were surprised to discover that instead of coming off as gaudy, the church felt alive and filled with movement. This is probably because the colors were warm and all of the figures were captured in motion, so that nothing about the interior felt stationary. It was so completely different from any church we have seen, and it officially makes both of our top three favorite European churches thus far. We walked over the Charles Bridge for the second time (this time lined by artists and street vendors) and purchased some fun artsy earrings. Then, after some wandering, we found the center of Old Town, which is an interesting take on the true Prague image. Big buildings with colorful French facades, a creepy green-bronze statue in the middle, and at points, big dark gothic spires rising above the cheerful facades. There we stopped for what can only be called the best hot-dog experience of our lives. Sausages are a specialty in the Czech Republic, so we figured it was only right to sample them for lunch, while admiring our surroundings and the beginning snowstorm (after our second trip to Starbucks for a large hot tea to go...we know, we are shameless). We saw another church shortly after, which was so poorly lit and ominous that we left very quickly, convinced that it was haunted. Then... we shopped! We stopped in an amazing wooden toy store, with sweet marionettes and really fun wooden puzzles and gadgets. Ari bought herself a beautiful wooden spinning top that looks like a Czech peasant girl and Katie bought herself a flying wooden pig that flaps its wings in fits of glee when you tug on it. Naturally.
Then we saw the ugliest church of all time. It was kind of... unexpected and shocking because it is right off of the main square. Just a little taste: it looks like somebody built a pretty church frame, and then a giant costume jewelry store vomited al over it. There were badly done paintings of holy figures lit up by blue fluorescent lights, conveniently placed so that the actually quality artwork was blocked from view. Like other Baroque churches, there was a lot of gilding, only this looked like the "grill" of an unfortunately blinged-out hip-hop artist. It really is a shame, because the discerning eye can see that the architecture underneath all of this gaudy and unnecessary decoration is quite beautifully constructed, but it is totally overwhelmed. Sad for astronomer Tycho Brahe, who is interred in this shameful "holy place". After we exited, we were excited to find that the snow storm (our first snow of the year) was in full swing and we took many giddy photographs. Then, since we had time to kill (and it was FREEZING), when we passed a giant sign advertising the Sex Museum... we couldn't help ourselves. It was quite populated and really, really interesting. We laughed at some, we gasped in horror at a lot, and groaned in unhappy disgust at some. It is amazing how much people's tastes have changed throughout history. Consider us a little more educated. Turns out... if you charge your entrance ticket on your credit card... your Bacon parents will see said charge... and they will be curious as to why their daughter is spending money on such things. But it was educational! And popular! And famous! And... love us anyway! Moving on.
We ate more goulash and dumplings before going back to the hostel to prettify and store up some energy for our first real European nightclubbing experience. There is a famous club called.. something something Lazne ishk near the Charles Bridge, so after a game of pool, we rounded up our Australian buddies and headed over at around midnight. This place was AWESOME. Picture: five stories, each with a different music and decoration theme. There was a floor of techno/house, reggaeton, hiphop, oldies, and a chillax floor (a hang out, or chill out floor, for those of you not with the lingo of the times, or if you're over age 30. Tyler... you might not be cool enough to understand this one either). We quickly discovered that Europeans can not dance. Seriously. At all. So it was amusing to discover that when we busted out our sweet moves, we attracted some spectators, in the form of a ring of sketchy men...wherever we were. We spent most of our time on the fourth floor (hip hop), boogyin downishk. But the overeager male spectators quickly got on our nerves, so we enlisted the help of two of our Australian friends, who pretended to be our boyfriends for the evening and actually intervened when necessary. For example, when "Lucas" from Brazil and his unnamed but skeezy friend wouldn't leave us alone, attempting to put the moves on us, we used the hand signal (the mashed potato) to bring Jimmy #1 and Jimmy #2 (actually their names) to pull us away. Lucas spent the rest of the night standing nearby giving Jimmy #1 the death glare in the hopes that he would back off. Thankfully, Jimmy #1 was a brave soul of strong Australian stock and he did not give in. When we sat to take a break and looked at the time... it was 4:30 AM. Since our flight was not terribly far away... we decided to stay until closing. At 6 AM. Then we happily wandered along the snowy streets until we found a tram. By the time we were back in the hostel neighborhood, we were so hungry that we were reduced to a game of "Rock, Paper Scissors" to decide which of us to eat. Katie lost. Luckily for Katie, there was a hotel opening for breafast at 6, so we stood like puppies in the window until they let us in for sausages and toast. Then... we bid farewell to our friends, packed, brushed off the nightclub residue, and checked out. We were in an exhausted stupor for the entire, complicated and full of public transportation, journey home.
When we got back at 1 PM, Ari took a five hour nap, then got up for dinner and movies, before going back to sleep around 2 until 10 in the morning. Katie resisted the urge to sleep, watched a movie and loaded pictures, then went to bed at 7... and didn't change positions until her alarm went off at 10 AM... fifteen hours later. Her Italian family had been sending her concerned messages all night, not realizing that she was upstairs and simply too dead asleep to hear her phone. All in all, it was a FABULOUS weekend and we had a wonderful time. Prague is beautifulishk.
A couple of interesting observations: Although the city of Prague itself is beautiful, its people are, unfortunately, the opposite. We did not realize how uncannily attractive the great majority of Italians are, so we were shocked by the intense contrast drawn in this eastern european population. We are absolutely positive that we saw the dumpling-like, red-faced figure of Augustus Gloop all grown up and devouring a shank of wild boar in one of our restaurants. We almost broke into the "Oompa Loompa" song, but then stopped ourselves when we realized it might be considered rude. Also worth noting, we decided that every time that we had spotted the "ugliest couple in history," we were forced to rescind said decision shortly thereafter, when another would make their presence known. Ari maintains that the worst one was on the tram: the male tall, emaciatedly thin and sporting greasy mullet over his pimple-ridden visage, and his teeth that could only be described as "capable of eating an apple through a tennis racket". The girl on the other hand, had little to fault except that she was nearly unidentifiable as a female, and clearly found her boyfriend sexually irresistible. Katie maintains that the worst one was in a car passing by: the guy was very similar except for the addition of a nose that would shame Mt. Everest in size, and a girl that was very similar except four times the size and with a colorful mullet-ishk haircut. This might come across as mean... but... come on. Mullets are a personal choice. So is your mate. And your hygiene. We are merely relating more of the local "flavor." Possibly directly related to this attractiveness factor, but the Czechs were also rather surly, in comparison to the almost infallible jolliness of the Italian population. We were momentarily surprised to note that the most cheerful people we encountered were the Starbucks employees (both times we went).
In other news, school going unexpectedly well for us! As it turns out, we are officially brilliant, and getting good grades. We got our music history midterms back today, both of us with A-'s! So, even though our classes are pass-fail...at least we can brag now. We are going to Paris in several days, which should be wonderful, as we are staying with a friend and word on the street is that the city is just lovely. We hope that everybody is happy and well and preparing for their respective thanksgiving dinners. :( We will miss this American tradition, but hopefully make up for it in Paris.
We love you all very much and will see you all in a couple weeks! Molti baci!!
~le ragazze
Thursday morning (the crack at the dawn, Ari says, and then quickly takes back when she realizes Katie might actually type it in the blog), we arose and finished packing and headed for the first time to the bus station. After some difficulty in the navigational sphere, we eventually made our way to Treviso airport, outside of Venice. Katie was especially concerned about our difficulty in getting through the extremely lengthy lines of security for all 10 of the completely deserted gates at the airport, and so we were early. Just early enough to enjoy our last Italian(ish) meal of the weekend (for the first time)! From there on out, it was all dumplings and goulash. We arrived, had some extreme issues trying to figure out how to get the bus we needed while standing in the significantly more freezing country of the Czech Republic. Some hilarity arose when we realized that we do not, in fact, speak Czech. Nor, much to our dismay, can we pronounce it. We got a lot of blank looks when we asked for directions to places like Vystevista (insert 2 to 3 bizarre accent marks over this), but we found that if we added "ishk" to the end of every word... we sounded more Czech. To us. We also discovered another thing that the Czech's are famous for: HUGE spiders. They are, luckily, afraid of humans and easy to kill, but we found several in our room and many in the train station. Seriously... they must feed them something different over here (we are thinking dumplings and goulash made from the bodies of tourists). After checking in at the hostel, we wandered back into the freezing rain to find a place to eat. That night we spent a grand total of 9ishk American dollars each for: genuine Czech beer (they are famous for the quality of their beer, and are known as the beer capital of the world), soup (either potato chunk or garlic chunk depending on the person), beef goulash, sirloin with sauce, and dumplings. Turns out, dumplings are like dense, shmooshy, moist bread balls. Also turns out, the Czech economy is still somewhat suffering communist backlash and we reap the benefits of their cheap, meaty food. As it turns out, this cheap meaty food has the amazing power of making the eater feel exactly like what they ate, afterwards. Cheap, meaty dumplingishks we were, yet happy. When we returned to the hostel, we played cards and made friends with some silly Australians, who told us all about their ridiculous adventures in Amsterdam's red light district. Scary stuff. Enough said. But they were cool guys.
The next morning, we ate a terrible hostel breakfast and headed out to explore the biggest castle compound in all of Europe: Prague Castle! We wandered the charmingly medieval courtyards before entering the old castle hall. This is when we first noticed how unbelievably different the architecture is in comparison to Italy. We like castles and it made us very happy. Then our bodies were exhausted from all the effort that they were expending in trying to keep us warm...so we took a brief pause in the castle café where we tried two delicious warm drinks (hot mulled wineishk in Katie's case, a local specialty, and hot chocolate with amaretto, which made Ari's taste buds do a little dance). Afterwards, the cold much less noticeable, we saw a little basilica and then the massive St. Vitus Cathedral. Its dark Gothic spires are a shocking contrast to the tame church facades that we have previously seen and instead of frescoes on the walls, there were rows of enormous stained glass windows that cast a beautiful, multi-colored glow on the interior of the church. Katie was mildly distracted from the holiness of the situation by the abundance of beautiful, multi-lingual men casting their "glow" on the interior of the church. Then we walked over to the Golden Lane, a row of adorable little colored houses where the castle alchemists used to live. Now, there are towers with exhibits of medieval armor and weapons, as well as cool little stores with typical Czech products, like wooden toys, black glass jewelry, goblets, and marionetteishks. Katie bought some pretty woolen mittens for her icy fingers (despite Ari's best attempts to generously supply the necessary body heat). After exiting the compound, we tried to visit St. Nicholas' (closed) church, and ended up crossing the river on the famous Charles Bridge, which is beautiful and gothic and covered in creepy dark statues. Prague was really interesting decoration-wise, because there is a real mix of simple colorful French buildings, and dark, heavily-ornamented, often-creepy architecture. We were reminded of the Beast's castle (of Disney's Beauty and the Beast) in the ending fight scene. Anyone? That is what it is like, down to the gargoyleishks.
Then we had a FEAST. Literally, it was called "Old Bohemian Feast for two" on the menu. It consisted of beer from the brewery in the basement of the restaurant, three different types of dumplings, potato pancakes, two types of stewed cabbage (who would have thought we would love it, it's delicious), roast duck, smoked pork shank, braised pork neck (also delicious), and chocolate/nut crepes (another local specialty, made differently from the crepes that we are used to). It was... obscenely inexpensive and unbelievably satisfying to our meat-starved Italian diets.
Then...a funny thing happened. We were saddened by our inability to visit Amsterdam, and in light of all the talk from the Australians at the hostel, felt that we were being fundamentally deprived of an important European experience: Absinth.
So when we passed a local grocery store with a large display of said spirit, we decided to supplement our previously made plan of relaxing at the hostel with a little bit of...spirit. Along with beer, Czech absinth is much-loved and very traditional to the area, and we firmly believe in trying out all of the local customs when we travel, as well as supporting local producers. Sticking it to the man, if you will. So we purchased two, tiny (we swear) bottles of this enticing green liquid with mysterious bits of herbs and twig bits floating around in it, and went back to our hostel. After purchasing what we hoped would be an adequate chaser to counteract the legendary horrific taste of the drink, we closed ourselves up in our room, fashioned two cups out of an empty waterbottle, and figured out how to set Ari's camera to "automatic timer" to document the experience. Fun fact: it tastes like gasoline, rubbing alcohol, herbs, and licorice. We set the camera, took the shot, and while trying our very best to swallow said shot... the camera went off. The picture... is perfect. Katie looks like she is about to burst into tears and Ari looks like she is going to lose every bit of dumpling she had consumed. Priceless. Then... we repeated the process and downed the entire bottle of orange juice (affectionately referred to as "Cappy") in a futile attempt to wash away the taste. We chilled on the bed and listened to music for a bit, until we started to feel the most undeniable urge to giggle uncontrollably. The effects are interesting: nonstop laughter, relaxed body, and a feeling of utter stupidity. As we put it in the unfortunate video that Katie had the presence of mind to take... "Katie's got a fuzzy wooly blanket on her." "No Ari, it's on my brain." Translation: it was hard to think? We were stupid? We could not form sentences well? All of the above. Suffice to say... we had our experience (thankfully, in a closed, controlled environment). Disclaimerishk: we would never have done this if it weren't for the fact that we were safely ensconced in our hostel room, had full stomachs, and no other substances. For any of you who may be interested in doing the Absinth thing, do not drink any alcohol first. It would be dumb and you would suffer.
Saturday, we gave in to our most shameful urges, and had our first Starbucks of the trip. For Katie, a grande gingerbread latté (because regular coffee sucks in Prague, especially after Italian coffee), for Ari, a grande no-water vanilla chai, and muffins for both of us. We retreated happily into the familiar atmosphere and gave ourselves over to the wave of nostalgia that promptly set in. It was surprisingly difficult to head back into the cold, but we walked a short block to St. Nicolas' church, where we spent several hours in awe at this intense example of the Baroque style. Every inch of the pink and cream stone inside is ornamented and every flat surface housed a life-size statue with tasteful gold filigree. We were surprised to discover that instead of coming off as gaudy, the church felt alive and filled with movement. This is probably because the colors were warm and all of the figures were captured in motion, so that nothing about the interior felt stationary. It was so completely different from any church we have seen, and it officially makes both of our top three favorite European churches thus far. We walked over the Charles Bridge for the second time (this time lined by artists and street vendors) and purchased some fun artsy earrings. Then, after some wandering, we found the center of Old Town, which is an interesting take on the true Prague image. Big buildings with colorful French facades, a creepy green-bronze statue in the middle, and at points, big dark gothic spires rising above the cheerful facades. There we stopped for what can only be called the best hot-dog experience of our lives. Sausages are a specialty in the Czech Republic, so we figured it was only right to sample them for lunch, while admiring our surroundings and the beginning snowstorm (after our second trip to Starbucks for a large hot tea to go...we know, we are shameless). We saw another church shortly after, which was so poorly lit and ominous that we left very quickly, convinced that it was haunted. Then... we shopped! We stopped in an amazing wooden toy store, with sweet marionettes and really fun wooden puzzles and gadgets. Ari bought herself a beautiful wooden spinning top that looks like a Czech peasant girl and Katie bought herself a flying wooden pig that flaps its wings in fits of glee when you tug on it. Naturally.
Then we saw the ugliest church of all time. It was kind of... unexpected and shocking because it is right off of the main square. Just a little taste: it looks like somebody built a pretty church frame, and then a giant costume jewelry store vomited al over it. There were badly done paintings of holy figures lit up by blue fluorescent lights, conveniently placed so that the actually quality artwork was blocked from view. Like other Baroque churches, there was a lot of gilding, only this looked like the "grill" of an unfortunately blinged-out hip-hop artist. It really is a shame, because the discerning eye can see that the architecture underneath all of this gaudy and unnecessary decoration is quite beautifully constructed, but it is totally overwhelmed. Sad for astronomer Tycho Brahe, who is interred in this shameful "holy place". After we exited, we were excited to find that the snow storm (our first snow of the year) was in full swing and we took many giddy photographs. Then, since we had time to kill (and it was FREEZING), when we passed a giant sign advertising the Sex Museum... we couldn't help ourselves. It was quite populated and really, really interesting. We laughed at some, we gasped in horror at a lot, and groaned in unhappy disgust at some. It is amazing how much people's tastes have changed throughout history. Consider us a little more educated. Turns out... if you charge your entrance ticket on your credit card... your Bacon parents will see said charge... and they will be curious as to why their daughter is spending money on such things. But it was educational! And popular! And famous! And... love us anyway! Moving on.
We ate more goulash and dumplings before going back to the hostel to prettify and store up some energy for our first real European nightclubbing experience. There is a famous club called.. something something Lazne ishk near the Charles Bridge, so after a game of pool, we rounded up our Australian buddies and headed over at around midnight. This place was AWESOME. Picture: five stories, each with a different music and decoration theme. There was a floor of techno/house, reggaeton, hiphop, oldies, and a chillax floor (a hang out, or chill out floor, for those of you not with the lingo of the times, or if you're over age 30. Tyler... you might not be cool enough to understand this one either). We quickly discovered that Europeans can not dance. Seriously. At all. So it was amusing to discover that when we busted out our sweet moves, we attracted some spectators, in the form of a ring of sketchy men...wherever we were. We spent most of our time on the fourth floor (hip hop), boogyin downishk. But the overeager male spectators quickly got on our nerves, so we enlisted the help of two of our Australian friends, who pretended to be our boyfriends for the evening and actually intervened when necessary. For example, when "Lucas" from Brazil and his unnamed but skeezy friend wouldn't leave us alone, attempting to put the moves on us, we used the hand signal (the mashed potato) to bring Jimmy #1 and Jimmy #2 (actually their names) to pull us away. Lucas spent the rest of the night standing nearby giving Jimmy #1 the death glare in the hopes that he would back off. Thankfully, Jimmy #1 was a brave soul of strong Australian stock and he did not give in. When we sat to take a break and looked at the time... it was 4:30 AM. Since our flight was not terribly far away... we decided to stay until closing. At 6 AM. Then we happily wandered along the snowy streets until we found a tram. By the time we were back in the hostel neighborhood, we were so hungry that we were reduced to a game of "Rock, Paper Scissors" to decide which of us to eat. Katie lost. Luckily for Katie, there was a hotel opening for breafast at 6, so we stood like puppies in the window until they let us in for sausages and toast. Then... we bid farewell to our friends, packed, brushed off the nightclub residue, and checked out. We were in an exhausted stupor for the entire, complicated and full of public transportation, journey home.
When we got back at 1 PM, Ari took a five hour nap, then got up for dinner and movies, before going back to sleep around 2 until 10 in the morning. Katie resisted the urge to sleep, watched a movie and loaded pictures, then went to bed at 7... and didn't change positions until her alarm went off at 10 AM... fifteen hours later. Her Italian family had been sending her concerned messages all night, not realizing that she was upstairs and simply too dead asleep to hear her phone. All in all, it was a FABULOUS weekend and we had a wonderful time. Prague is beautifulishk.
A couple of interesting observations: Although the city of Prague itself is beautiful, its people are, unfortunately, the opposite. We did not realize how uncannily attractive the great majority of Italians are, so we were shocked by the intense contrast drawn in this eastern european population. We are absolutely positive that we saw the dumpling-like, red-faced figure of Augustus Gloop all grown up and devouring a shank of wild boar in one of our restaurants. We almost broke into the "Oompa Loompa" song, but then stopped ourselves when we realized it might be considered rude. Also worth noting, we decided that every time that we had spotted the "ugliest couple in history," we were forced to rescind said decision shortly thereafter, when another would make their presence known. Ari maintains that the worst one was on the tram: the male tall, emaciatedly thin and sporting greasy mullet over his pimple-ridden visage, and his teeth that could only be described as "capable of eating an apple through a tennis racket". The girl on the other hand, had little to fault except that she was nearly unidentifiable as a female, and clearly found her boyfriend sexually irresistible. Katie maintains that the worst one was in a car passing by: the guy was very similar except for the addition of a nose that would shame Mt. Everest in size, and a girl that was very similar except four times the size and with a colorful mullet-ishk haircut. This might come across as mean... but... come on. Mullets are a personal choice. So is your mate. And your hygiene. We are merely relating more of the local "flavor." Possibly directly related to this attractiveness factor, but the Czechs were also rather surly, in comparison to the almost infallible jolliness of the Italian population. We were momentarily surprised to note that the most cheerful people we encountered were the Starbucks employees (both times we went).
In other news, school going unexpectedly well for us! As it turns out, we are officially brilliant, and getting good grades. We got our music history midterms back today, both of us with A-'s! So, even though our classes are pass-fail...at least we can brag now. We are going to Paris in several days, which should be wonderful, as we are staying with a friend and word on the street is that the city is just lovely. We hope that everybody is happy and well and preparing for their respective thanksgiving dinners. :( We will miss this American tradition, but hopefully make up for it in Paris.
We love you all very much and will see you all in a couple weeks! Molti baci!!
~le ragazze
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
"All work and no play makes Puccini a dull boy."
All work and no play makes Puccini a dull boy. AllworkandnoplaymakesPucciniadullboy.
All work
and no play makes
Pucciniadull
boy.
Creeped out yet, readers? Read on.
Late one moonless autumn night, two travel-weary college students stumbled blearily off the tortuous streets of Lucca, relieved to finally have located their hostel, after hours of fruitless searching. They welcomed the sight of the bright entryway and friendly, perhaps too friendly, concierge. Unaware of the labyrinth of deserted hallways anxiously awaiting the arrival of unsuspecting guests, they checked in and received the keys to room 23. Peering around the corner toward the common area, the travellers were taken aback by the sheer size and antiquated grandeur of the place. Yet, mounting the steadily darkening staircase, the two girls felt a growing unease at the palpable emptiness of this monstrous building. A slow shiver ran up each of their spines, but both shrugged away their feelings of dread, choosing to make light chatter to fill the ominous silences.
"Is this our floor?" ventured the little, dark-haired one, as they rounded a bend and attempted to peer into the dense darkness.
"I guess so..." replied the tall blonde one. "But... where are the lights?"
As soon as their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they both jerked back startled. Staring out at them from the recesses of the sprawling room was the pale, ghostly figure of... Giacomo Puccini. While merely a lifesize cardboard cutout, it was shocking to say the least.
"Oh. My. God. That is WICKED creepy," breathed the blonde.
The brunette nodded in silent agreement. "We could turn it so that it faces the wall..."
After quickly moving Puccini to face a more harmless direction, the girls walked slowly onward, glancing fearfully at the odd projection of their shadows looming over them. They made their way down the long, dark hallway, accompanied only by the soft sounds of their own breathing and the gentle billowing of the pale, green curtains. The eyes of the portraits seemed to follow them as they went, and when they finally reached the end of the passage, they froze in their tracks. There... eyes gleaming maliciously in the reflection of the warped, old mirror... was Puccini, mysteriously turned to watch the two girls once again. *INSERT BOOMING THUNDER AND LIGHTNING*
That, friends and family, is a TINY taste of the horrors of the haunted hostel in which we stayed this past weekend. Yes, the accomodations were clean and the showers were hot... but this place was TERRIFYING. Totally deserted, covered in warped mirrors strategically placed at corners, bad fake flower arrangements, long dark hallways, silence... it was so scary. And on top of these elements, the three or four other groups of guests were placed just perfectly so that we NEVER saw or heard each other. Rather than placing us all in a row in the same wing, they scattered us all over the wings of the massive building, so that it was rare to see another living being (the better to pick us off one by one, wethinks). We actually shudder just thinking about it.
But before reaching Lucca, we stopped in Bologna and tried some traditional pasta bolognese (think tomato/meat sauce), which was the best we have ever had. Bologna is reputed to be the culinary capital of the world, and we believe these reports. We are sure that the city is full of all sorts of lovely things to see, but unfortunately due to a sad lack of both sleep and caffeine, and the terribly drippy weather, we were too punchy to really appreciate its charms. We did, however, manage to locate the most obscene fountain of all time. Think: naked Neptune surrounded by four naked women, sprawled out (legs spread), cupping their squirting boobies. Sorry, Mama and Papa Bacon for including such graphic details, but we were appropriately shocked and horrified, we assure you both. Then, the train to Lucca and the hunt/discovery of the hostel that was previously described in great detail, and an incredible dinner involving risotto with mushrooms and white truffle oil. Yum.
The next morning, we met up with Ari's mammone relative, Alberto. For all of you who have never heard of the mammone phenomenon: a mammone is a single Italian man-boy who lives in his parents' house, eating their food and having his laundry done and bed made by his mama and partying all night long, until (in this case) age 40. Sadly... this is quite common and decidedly unattractive. Alberto, however, was very entertaining and took us to Pisa, where we had a photo shoot of touristic magnificence in front of "la Torre Pendente." From there, it was on to the relatives' house in Quiesa. We were welcomed by the matriarch and patriarch (Landa and Orlando) of this branch of the family. We were basically overwhelmed by a combination of rapid Italian, adorable old people, and delicious food. Then we met a few other members of the family, Antonella and Lorenzo, and their sons Federico (20) and Manuele (10), and the "canini" or month-old puppies. We all sat down for a traditional Tuscan lunch, and spent a good amount of it trying to impress upon them that we, in fact, did not need to eat more. Manuele proceeded to serenade us with his (truly incredible!) guitar skills.. and Katie fell a little bit in statutory love (although it is definitely mutual) and promised to return for a Guitar Hero battle and jam sesh. We also saw a nearby beach town, Viarreggio, which was beautiful, before going back to the house for... more food! We were eventually returned to our hostel (eek), and the next morning we woke to a casual day of sightseeing around Lucca. We walked along the massive medieval walls that surround the city, strolled in the sun through the antique markets, and checked out the not very aptly named Duomo (it is sans dome). Then home again, home again.
This week was spent trying to prepare for (rather unsuccessfully) our midterm for our history of music class. Although we did very little studying (chalk it up to our usual powers of distraction where the other one is concerned) we both feel fairly confident about the results. We are officially opera experts. Not really. But... it sounds pretty!
STUPID MOMENT OF THE WEEK: So in Italy there is this rule that when you ride public transportation of any kind, you must not only have a ticket, but you must validate said ticket once on the bus. Ari, who often rides the bus to avoid the 30-minute walk to school in rainy or otherwise unfortunate weather, has developed a regrettable habit of not validating her bus tickets. This is because NOBODY ever checks to make sure if your ticket is validated. EVER. Except...this morning. Ari was peacefully enjoying her ride to school, when, all of a sudden two very serious carabinieri (Italian police) boarded her bus, and demanded everybody's tickets. Ari panicked. So when the carabiniero approached her, she handed him her un-validated ticket, and promptly pretended that she did not speak Italian, and did not understand why he was angrily babbling at her. They pulled over the bus, and Ari was escorted outside, where she was asked for her "documenti" (passport). She was very very scared. But because she succeeded in looking appropriately stupid and confused, the man took pity and left her with a ripped up ticket and a very red face. She walked the rest of the way to school.
Needless to say, she will be validating her tickets from now on...lesson learned, universe. As they say in Italian "Affare fatto."
STUPID MOMENT OF LAST WEEK: Ari was over at Katie's house for a visit. They were studying upstairs for the quite unfortunate History of Italy exam which took place last week, when Katie's host sister came to say hi. After conversing with Irene for a bit about this and that (how to say thong, bra, bikini-cut underwear, etc. only the most important questions, naturally), Irene asked what we were studying. So Katie asked Irene if she knew who General Badoglio was. Irene was like.. ew I don't like history, remind me what he did. Katie replied... "Oh.. ha fatto qualcosa con capretto." Katie was TRYING to say that he did something with the city of Caporetto, an important military post in WWI. What she ACTUALLY said is.. "Oh.. he did something with a little goat." It took a while to get Irene to stop laughing and explain to Katie why she is an idiot and can't speak Italian properly. Katie still feels stupid and Ari is still laughing about it. Yes, ha ha, very funny.
STUPID MOMENT OF SOMEONE ELSE'S WEEK: Our friend, Kelly Lynch, has trouble distinguishing her "double n's." In Italian, there is a huge difference between words that have one "n" (like "pena", or pain) or two n's (like "penna", or pen). Much to our comic relief, Kelly has been telling people since she arrived that she "Ha 20 ani," instead of "Ha 20 anni." This is a very common phrase, which is normally supposed to mean "I am 20 years old." Kelly, on the other hand, has been telling everyone that she has 20 anuses. And she only recently found out her error.
"Hello, my name is Kelly. I am a student at BU. I have 20 anuses." Typical conversation starter. It's a good ice breaker.
Anyways, we are off to Prague tomorrow morning and we are SOOO excited! We hear that it is like stepping into a Gothic storybook. Clearly, something we will enjoy immensely. We heard that it is extremely difficult to leave comments on the blog (something about needing to register yourself every time you try) so we will accept emails and/or facebook messages in lieu of said comments. Just in case you need our email addresses, Ari: a-bennett@u.northwestern.edu and Katie: kathleenbacon2010@u.northwestern.edu. And now... you have no excuse. So there.
We love you all so much and hope that all is well back in your respective homes/dorms/apartments/frathouses!
Molti baci!
~le ragazze
All work
and no play makes
Pucciniadull
boy.
Creeped out yet, readers? Read on.
Late one moonless autumn night, two travel-weary college students stumbled blearily off the tortuous streets of Lucca, relieved to finally have located their hostel, after hours of fruitless searching. They welcomed the sight of the bright entryway and friendly, perhaps too friendly, concierge. Unaware of the labyrinth of deserted hallways anxiously awaiting the arrival of unsuspecting guests, they checked in and received the keys to room 23. Peering around the corner toward the common area, the travellers were taken aback by the sheer size and antiquated grandeur of the place. Yet, mounting the steadily darkening staircase, the two girls felt a growing unease at the palpable emptiness of this monstrous building. A slow shiver ran up each of their spines, but both shrugged away their feelings of dread, choosing to make light chatter to fill the ominous silences.
"Is this our floor?" ventured the little, dark-haired one, as they rounded a bend and attempted to peer into the dense darkness.
"I guess so..." replied the tall blonde one. "But... where are the lights?"
As soon as their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they both jerked back startled. Staring out at them from the recesses of the sprawling room was the pale, ghostly figure of... Giacomo Puccini. While merely a lifesize cardboard cutout, it was shocking to say the least.
"Oh. My. God. That is WICKED creepy," breathed the blonde.
The brunette nodded in silent agreement. "We could turn it so that it faces the wall..."
After quickly moving Puccini to face a more harmless direction, the girls walked slowly onward, glancing fearfully at the odd projection of their shadows looming over them. They made their way down the long, dark hallway, accompanied only by the soft sounds of their own breathing and the gentle billowing of the pale, green curtains. The eyes of the portraits seemed to follow them as they went, and when they finally reached the end of the passage, they froze in their tracks. There... eyes gleaming maliciously in the reflection of the warped, old mirror... was Puccini, mysteriously turned to watch the two girls once again. *INSERT BOOMING THUNDER AND LIGHTNING*
That, friends and family, is a TINY taste of the horrors of the haunted hostel in which we stayed this past weekend. Yes, the accomodations were clean and the showers were hot... but this place was TERRIFYING. Totally deserted, covered in warped mirrors strategically placed at corners, bad fake flower arrangements, long dark hallways, silence... it was so scary. And on top of these elements, the three or four other groups of guests were placed just perfectly so that we NEVER saw or heard each other. Rather than placing us all in a row in the same wing, they scattered us all over the wings of the massive building, so that it was rare to see another living being (the better to pick us off one by one, wethinks). We actually shudder just thinking about it.
But before reaching Lucca, we stopped in Bologna and tried some traditional pasta bolognese (think tomato/meat sauce), which was the best we have ever had. Bologna is reputed to be the culinary capital of the world, and we believe these reports. We are sure that the city is full of all sorts of lovely things to see, but unfortunately due to a sad lack of both sleep and caffeine, and the terribly drippy weather, we were too punchy to really appreciate its charms. We did, however, manage to locate the most obscene fountain of all time. Think: naked Neptune surrounded by four naked women, sprawled out (legs spread), cupping their squirting boobies. Sorry, Mama and Papa Bacon for including such graphic details, but we were appropriately shocked and horrified, we assure you both. Then, the train to Lucca and the hunt/discovery of the hostel that was previously described in great detail, and an incredible dinner involving risotto with mushrooms and white truffle oil. Yum.
The next morning, we met up with Ari's mammone relative, Alberto. For all of you who have never heard of the mammone phenomenon: a mammone is a single Italian man-boy who lives in his parents' house, eating their food and having his laundry done and bed made by his mama and partying all night long, until (in this case) age 40. Sadly... this is quite common and decidedly unattractive. Alberto, however, was very entertaining and took us to Pisa, where we had a photo shoot of touristic magnificence in front of "la Torre Pendente." From there, it was on to the relatives' house in Quiesa. We were welcomed by the matriarch and patriarch (Landa and Orlando) of this branch of the family. We were basically overwhelmed by a combination of rapid Italian, adorable old people, and delicious food. Then we met a few other members of the family, Antonella and Lorenzo, and their sons Federico (20) and Manuele (10), and the "canini" or month-old puppies. We all sat down for a traditional Tuscan lunch, and spent a good amount of it trying to impress upon them that we, in fact, did not need to eat more. Manuele proceeded to serenade us with his (truly incredible!) guitar skills.. and Katie fell a little bit in statutory love (although it is definitely mutual) and promised to return for a Guitar Hero battle and jam sesh. We also saw a nearby beach town, Viarreggio, which was beautiful, before going back to the house for... more food! We were eventually returned to our hostel (eek), and the next morning we woke to a casual day of sightseeing around Lucca. We walked along the massive medieval walls that surround the city, strolled in the sun through the antique markets, and checked out the not very aptly named Duomo (it is sans dome). Then home again, home again.
This week was spent trying to prepare for (rather unsuccessfully) our midterm for our history of music class. Although we did very little studying (chalk it up to our usual powers of distraction where the other one is concerned) we both feel fairly confident about the results. We are officially opera experts. Not really. But... it sounds pretty!
STUPID MOMENT OF THE WEEK: So in Italy there is this rule that when you ride public transportation of any kind, you must not only have a ticket, but you must validate said ticket once on the bus. Ari, who often rides the bus to avoid the 30-minute walk to school in rainy or otherwise unfortunate weather, has developed a regrettable habit of not validating her bus tickets. This is because NOBODY ever checks to make sure if your ticket is validated. EVER. Except...this morning. Ari was peacefully enjoying her ride to school, when, all of a sudden two very serious carabinieri (Italian police) boarded her bus, and demanded everybody's tickets. Ari panicked. So when the carabiniero approached her, she handed him her un-validated ticket, and promptly pretended that she did not speak Italian, and did not understand why he was angrily babbling at her. They pulled over the bus, and Ari was escorted outside, where she was asked for her "documenti" (passport). She was very very scared. But because she succeeded in looking appropriately stupid and confused, the man took pity and left her with a ripped up ticket and a very red face. She walked the rest of the way to school.
Needless to say, she will be validating her tickets from now on...lesson learned, universe. As they say in Italian "Affare fatto."
STUPID MOMENT OF LAST WEEK: Ari was over at Katie's house for a visit. They were studying upstairs for the quite unfortunate History of Italy exam which took place last week, when Katie's host sister came to say hi. After conversing with Irene for a bit about this and that (how to say thong, bra, bikini-cut underwear, etc. only the most important questions, naturally), Irene asked what we were studying. So Katie asked Irene if she knew who General Badoglio was. Irene was like.. ew I don't like history, remind me what he did. Katie replied... "Oh.. ha fatto qualcosa con capretto." Katie was TRYING to say that he did something with the city of Caporetto, an important military post in WWI. What she ACTUALLY said is.. "Oh.. he did something with a little goat." It took a while to get Irene to stop laughing and explain to Katie why she is an idiot and can't speak Italian properly. Katie still feels stupid and Ari is still laughing about it. Yes, ha ha, very funny.
STUPID MOMENT OF SOMEONE ELSE'S WEEK: Our friend, Kelly Lynch, has trouble distinguishing her "double n's." In Italian, there is a huge difference between words that have one "n" (like "pena", or pain) or two n's (like "penna", or pen). Much to our comic relief, Kelly has been telling people since she arrived that she "Ha 20 ani," instead of "Ha 20 anni." This is a very common phrase, which is normally supposed to mean "I am 20 years old." Kelly, on the other hand, has been telling everyone that she has 20 anuses. And she only recently found out her error.
"Hello, my name is Kelly. I am a student at BU. I have 20 anuses." Typical conversation starter. It's a good ice breaker.
Anyways, we are off to Prague tomorrow morning and we are SOOO excited! We hear that it is like stepping into a Gothic storybook. Clearly, something we will enjoy immensely. We heard that it is extremely difficult to leave comments on the blog (something about needing to register yourself every time you try) so we will accept emails and/or facebook messages in lieu of said comments. Just in case you need our email addresses, Ari: a-bennett@u.northwestern.edu and Katie: kathleenbacon2010@u.northwestern.edu. And now... you have no excuse. So there.
We love you all so much and hope that all is well back in your respective homes/dorms/apartments/frathouses!
Molti baci!
~le ragazze
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Locker 1408
Alrighty, we know it's been a little while, but it's just about time we updated this baby. Soooo.. two weekends ago, life was mostly uneventful- we did go to see a really amazing castle in Trento with the group, and then had a lovely lunch involving a purple, berry and mushroom risotto (interesting... delicious...). We also saw a fashion show in the giant Palazzo del Ragione, in the middle of Padova, where we picked out several million dollar dresses that we would very much like to own. Life otherwise has been great, per usual, though both of us have had some intense bouts of homesickness of late. Believe it or not, we do miss all of you lots and lots! We are still having a fabulous time though! Yesterday we had the first two (of three) midterms and they were not nearly as bad as anticipated. History of Contemporary Italy we studied a TON for and it turned out to be fairly straightforward (we both passed with decent grades- yay us!), while Italian we did not study at all for and it was also pretty easy. I suppose we'll find out soon enough how 'easy' it really was. Enough about boring things.
Last weekend, we left the country for the first time and hopped the border to Lugano, Switzerland. Switzerland is AWESOME. It is like its own bizarre little planet filled with amazing chocolate, beautiful mountains, secret banks, and perfectly clean and punctual public transportation (well almost...Lugano is still close enough to Italy to be affected by its perpetual tardiness). On the train there, we passed under a beauuuutiful rainbow, which we took as a good omen. We arrived just in time to get ourselves promptly lost in an attempt to find our hostel. Apparently in Lugano there are TWO streets of the same name, opposite sides of the town. Who knew? But we eventually unlosted ourselves, and found our adorable little hostel nicknamed the "Oasis" (justly so). It was very cute, and complete with boardgames and comforter-covers (which we failed miserably in putting on). Our roommate was slightly less cute... and prone to sleeping at every unlikely hour of the day (when we got there at 4, when we returned again at 10, and after we woke up at 8). After tea-ing at the local "Bar Cuba," we hopped the bus back into downtown Lugano. The first piazza we found had no less than 8 banks around its fringes (in comparison with the two restaurants). It was then that we realized we were, indeed, not in Italy any more-- the emphasis on food in Italy has been replaced with the emphasis on...banking. And chocolate. Thankfully. We IMMEDIATELY purchased some of said chocolate, then wandered through the ritzy watch/jewelry/clothing window displays, then played on a swingset, then found a spot for dinner. There Ari had her first taste of Raclette, a Swiss specialty (that Katie was only too ecstatic to sample again) involving potatoes, onions, and pickles coated in hot, gooey cheese from the area. Ari has been informed that the Bacon residence is in possession of the mystical machinery to make this delicious dish. She is officially putting in a request to said Bacons for more Raclette. Please. Katie seconds this. Then we had the most AMAZING chocolate cake of all time. After all of this eating, we were pooped. So we retired to the hostel for a rousing game of Chinese checkers! Followed by... checkers normale!! (in which Katie made some self-sacrifices in order to sleep, although Ari insists that it was really only a matter of time)
The following morning we put on our best hiking gear (it's not that great), and started off the day with a hearty breakfast of rosti-- basically fried potato strips with speck (bacon) and eggs on top. This is a Swiss specialty for any meal of the day, and it lasted us quite a while. We made our way over to the funicolare, which carried us up the steep and perilous path to Monte Bré. There we fought through a vicious crowd of very old German people, and chose a hike for the day. And we were off to be real Swiss explorers of the most adventurous kind! Just us against nature...on the well-hiked and labeled paths up the lovely lovely mountain. We passed through a cute little town, and about 30 minutes later, realized how sadly out of shape we were. But we powered on anyway, as true mountaineers would, and after a few hours of uphill battling to the tune of "Climb Every Mountain" and sampling of questionable, potentially ebola-ridden water, we made it to the end of the path! Where we promptly decided to off-path it, if you will, to find an appropriate lunch location. We hand and footed it over a very steep section of mountain terrain, and where rewarded with the prettiest spot in all the land, at the tippy top of the mountain. We enjoyed a hearty blend of Swiss bread, Italian salami, French cheese, Swiss chocolate, questionable Swiss water, and views of the perfectly ice-capped peaks of the Swiss alps. Here is the correct moment for all you readers to say to yourselves "I am so jealous and lame that I want to wash your mountain-climbing feet with my envious tears and prostrate myself in front of the adventurous goddesses that you are. I am not worthy!"
After making our way back down (past some darling old Swiss men, who called us "Miss Monde," or "Miss World(s)", we can only assume because we astounded them with our sweaty beauty and adventurous spirits), we found a seesaw in the village of Bré, which kept us occupied for... a while. Until we found the swings. Where Katie tried to take a hilaaarious video of the two of us playing like little Swiss kiddies. At this point, however, we realized that it would get dark soon, and we still had an hour-ish long hike to get to Gandria, the medieval town at the bottom of the mountain. We chose to ignore the rapidly setting sun and embarked on a steep, downhill (STUPID) climb. It got dark much sooner than anticipated, and we found ourselves using Katie's phone-flashlight to navigate the creepy, deserted, dark woods. Eventually, we found "civilization." The town in which we found ourselves wins every award for being the CREEPIEST place of all time. It was totally deserted, eerily silent, pitch-black, made up of crumbling, gaping, ancient buildings, and a labyrinth of steep stairs. It has been preserved since medieval times, so there aren't technological luxuries like.. light. We were even sweatier and more exhausted by the time we found our way back out of the town and to a street with transportation. After our unbelievably tiring day, we grabbed dinner near the hostel, in the form of yummy pizza (in Ari's case) and cheesy, comforting risotto (in Katie's case). Although we were dead tired, we summoned up the energy to play many rounds of cards on Ari's bed while thanking the hostel gods that our surly roommate was as yet not present. It turns out that she never did show up that night...we are not sure why, but we hypothesize that it had something to do with the excess of sparkly clothing strewn about the room. We are also thankful, because we could not stop laughing to save our lives--so much so that we caught the attention of our neighbors (a roomful of loud, probably inebriated, boys). We ignored them, and continued to collapse in giggle fits brought on partially by utter exhaustion, and partially by how awesomely funny we are (or at least how awesomely funny we find each other). Hence, the birth of this blog title, which we can't really explain, but trust us, it is hilarious.
The next morning we bought (surprise, surprise) more chocolate to bring home with us and took a train home to Padova. It was, all in all, an "excellent adventure," and a nice change of pace to be surrounded by nature instead of tourists, and the chance to exercise our sadly diminished muscles.
Katie's computer battery is totally dying... dead. So we must leave you there for now. But this weekend we are off to see Ari's relatives in Lucca (with stops at Bologna and Pisa), a trip we are most excited to embark upon. We love you all to little pieces and to the moon and back and such. Leave us some love in the form of sassy and entertaining comments.
Baci a tutti!
~le ragazze
Last weekend, we left the country for the first time and hopped the border to Lugano, Switzerland. Switzerland is AWESOME. It is like its own bizarre little planet filled with amazing chocolate, beautiful mountains, secret banks, and perfectly clean and punctual public transportation (well almost...Lugano is still close enough to Italy to be affected by its perpetual tardiness). On the train there, we passed under a beauuuutiful rainbow, which we took as a good omen. We arrived just in time to get ourselves promptly lost in an attempt to find our hostel. Apparently in Lugano there are TWO streets of the same name, opposite sides of the town. Who knew? But we eventually unlosted ourselves, and found our adorable little hostel nicknamed the "Oasis" (justly so). It was very cute, and complete with boardgames and comforter-covers (which we failed miserably in putting on). Our roommate was slightly less cute... and prone to sleeping at every unlikely hour of the day (when we got there at 4, when we returned again at 10, and after we woke up at 8). After tea-ing at the local "Bar Cuba," we hopped the bus back into downtown Lugano. The first piazza we found had no less than 8 banks around its fringes (in comparison with the two restaurants). It was then that we realized we were, indeed, not in Italy any more-- the emphasis on food in Italy has been replaced with the emphasis on...banking. And chocolate. Thankfully. We IMMEDIATELY purchased some of said chocolate, then wandered through the ritzy watch/jewelry/clothing window displays, then played on a swingset, then found a spot for dinner. There Ari had her first taste of Raclette, a Swiss specialty (that Katie was only too ecstatic to sample again) involving potatoes, onions, and pickles coated in hot, gooey cheese from the area. Ari has been informed that the Bacon residence is in possession of the mystical machinery to make this delicious dish. She is officially putting in a request to said Bacons for more Raclette. Please. Katie seconds this. Then we had the most AMAZING chocolate cake of all time. After all of this eating, we were pooped. So we retired to the hostel for a rousing game of Chinese checkers! Followed by... checkers normale!! (in which Katie made some self-sacrifices in order to sleep, although Ari insists that it was really only a matter of time)
The following morning we put on our best hiking gear (it's not that great), and started off the day with a hearty breakfast of rosti-- basically fried potato strips with speck (bacon) and eggs on top. This is a Swiss specialty for any meal of the day, and it lasted us quite a while. We made our way over to the funicolare, which carried us up the steep and perilous path to Monte Bré. There we fought through a vicious crowd of very old German people, and chose a hike for the day. And we were off to be real Swiss explorers of the most adventurous kind! Just us against nature...on the well-hiked and labeled paths up the lovely lovely mountain. We passed through a cute little town, and about 30 minutes later, realized how sadly out of shape we were. But we powered on anyway, as true mountaineers would, and after a few hours of uphill battling to the tune of "Climb Every Mountain" and sampling of questionable, potentially ebola-ridden water, we made it to the end of the path! Where we promptly decided to off-path it, if you will, to find an appropriate lunch location. We hand and footed it over a very steep section of mountain terrain, and where rewarded with the prettiest spot in all the land, at the tippy top of the mountain. We enjoyed a hearty blend of Swiss bread, Italian salami, French cheese, Swiss chocolate, questionable Swiss water, and views of the perfectly ice-capped peaks of the Swiss alps. Here is the correct moment for all you readers to say to yourselves "I am so jealous and lame that I want to wash your mountain-climbing feet with my envious tears and prostrate myself in front of the adventurous goddesses that you are. I am not worthy!"
After making our way back down (past some darling old Swiss men, who called us "Miss Monde," or "Miss World(s)", we can only assume because we astounded them with our sweaty beauty and adventurous spirits), we found a seesaw in the village of Bré, which kept us occupied for... a while. Until we found the swings. Where Katie tried to take a hilaaarious video of the two of us playing like little Swiss kiddies. At this point, however, we realized that it would get dark soon, and we still had an hour-ish long hike to get to Gandria, the medieval town at the bottom of the mountain. We chose to ignore the rapidly setting sun and embarked on a steep, downhill (STUPID) climb. It got dark much sooner than anticipated, and we found ourselves using Katie's phone-flashlight to navigate the creepy, deserted, dark woods. Eventually, we found "civilization." The town in which we found ourselves wins every award for being the CREEPIEST place of all time. It was totally deserted, eerily silent, pitch-black, made up of crumbling, gaping, ancient buildings, and a labyrinth of steep stairs. It has been preserved since medieval times, so there aren't technological luxuries like.. light. We were even sweatier and more exhausted by the time we found our way back out of the town and to a street with transportation. After our unbelievably tiring day, we grabbed dinner near the hostel, in the form of yummy pizza (in Ari's case) and cheesy, comforting risotto (in Katie's case). Although we were dead tired, we summoned up the energy to play many rounds of cards on Ari's bed while thanking the hostel gods that our surly roommate was as yet not present. It turns out that she never did show up that night...we are not sure why, but we hypothesize that it had something to do with the excess of sparkly clothing strewn about the room. We are also thankful, because we could not stop laughing to save our lives--so much so that we caught the attention of our neighbors (a roomful of loud, probably inebriated, boys). We ignored them, and continued to collapse in giggle fits brought on partially by utter exhaustion, and partially by how awesomely funny we are (or at least how awesomely funny we find each other). Hence, the birth of this blog title, which we can't really explain, but trust us, it is hilarious.
The next morning we bought (surprise, surprise) more chocolate to bring home with us and took a train home to Padova. It was, all in all, an "excellent adventure," and a nice change of pace to be surrounded by nature instead of tourists, and the chance to exercise our sadly diminished muscles.
Katie's computer battery is totally dying... dead. So we must leave you there for now. But this weekend we are off to see Ari's relatives in Lucca (with stops at Bologna and Pisa), a trip we are most excited to embark upon. We love you all to little pieces and to the moon and back and such. Leave us some love in the form of sassy and entertaining comments.
Baci a tutti!
~le ragazze
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Substance Abuse: Cioccolato, Chianti, e Chiese...
This blog officially picks up where the last one left off... Thursday, after classes, when we made our glorious return (naturally, via train) to Florence. This includes a glorious return to the most glorious of hostels... Plus Florence. Oh yes. Which means that our first night was spent enjoying their downstairs bar and playing card games with new hostel friends!
The next morning, Ari found a lovely black and floral scarf at the incredible Florence markets, and then saw the Capella dei Principi, the official chapel of the Medici family. The inside is decorated with beautiful green and russet marble, and all the family members are buried below. Then we boarded a train to Perugia for the international chocolate festival: 'Eurochocolate.' We had no idea the bounty of magnificence that lay in wait for our sweet-starved bodies. But first... we had to prove our worth by climbing for an hour to reach the town summit (which is actually on the top of a mountain.. not exaggerating- at points you have to take outdoor escalators). But we got there eventually, and were immediately awed by the sheer quantity of chocolate, and the beauty of the location (inside of a mountain-top castle overlooking the whole city). There was chocolate from literally all over the world, and in nearly every form (liquid, bars, sculptures, cutlery, giant chess pieces, etc.). It is also all served by extremely attractive men.. and the combination of molten chocolate happiness and sexy man specimen is pretty overwhelming. Needless to say, we ended up with massive sacks of booty (chocolate booty, that is) and happy tummies.
Saturday, we decided to do a wine tour through the hostel company. It was an amazing deal: for only 25 Euro, we got a full day tour of Chianti, with two wineries, lunch, and a visit to the Medieval town of San Gimignano. While on the bus, our tour guide taught us some funny Italian hand gestures and phrases, as well as some amusing cultural differences. We were told that the proper response to the "Ciao, bella!" (Hi, beautiful!) much used by the overeager opposite sex, is "Ciao, brutto!" (Hi, ugly!). Our first stop was a little farm that used to be owned by the famous Florentine Pitti family. There we tasted about four different types of their wine, and their homemade olive oil, sausages, cheese, and bruschetta (with homegrown tomatoes). It was amazing. Then we hopped back on the bus and drove through the gorgeous countryside of Chianti to San Gimignano, which is possibly the most beautiful place we have been to so far in Europe. We were sad that we only had an hour or so there, but we did get to taste "Italy's best gelato" (it actually did win first place in the contest), and we climbed to the top of a tower for a stunning view of the entire region. There was a beautiful garden on top, with groves of olive trees, and a harp player strumming a melody to accompany our wanderings and wistful sighs... bellissima. After walking back down the mountain, we boarded the bus bound for the second winery of the day, which makes wines that have won gold medals in NYC. We tasted this medal-winning wine, but sadly were not quite at the level of wine connoisseurs in appreciating it. We're getting much better, though! We tried 10-ish types of wine here, and then some incredible home-made olive oil with truffles, and honey with truffles. It was incredible, and apparently a potent aphrodisiac (although there were no problems on the bus ride home). At this point, we were quite tired, so we rested for a bit back in Florence before heading out for dinner and our night-time stroll (where we were amazed anew at the audacity of some of the men in the more Southern sections of Italy).
Sunday morning, we remained in Florence in order to see some of the sights that we had missed the previous visit. After some thrifty gift-purchases in the market, we went to the Palazzo Vecchio, a Medici palace in the middle of the city, and spent several hours wandering the rooms. In accordance with all of the other grand Palazzi, it was sumptous, massive and filled with artwork. Then we grabbed a quick panino before heading over to the church of Santa Croce, which is famous not only for its beauty, but also for the ridiculous number of famous Italians that are buried there. We saw the tombs of: Galileo Galilei, Niccolo Machiavelli, Michelangelo Buonarrotti, and tributes to Dante Alighieri (who is actually buried in Ravenna), and Leonardo Da Vinci. Napoleon's family is also buried there, for some reason. Then we spent a wonderfully relaxing afternoon wandering around Florence, until we happened upon a massive crowd of people outside Florence's famous 'Duomo' and baptistry. We waited around to see what it was all about, and it turns out that a new Bishop was being inducted for Florence. There was actually a parade of berobed holy men. Also lots of camera crews, and catholic secret service. Sadly, no pope and no funny looking Swiss Guards.
We then made our way to the train station, and after a few train-related mishaps, returned home to Padova. Where we found ourselves in the midst of a nation-wide protest over a huge education reform that the Italian Prime Minister (Berlusconi) is pushing through both houses, and just got approved. This reform is hugely cutting down on the staffs, courses offered, and hours of the public schools, and has angered almost every Italian citizen, but unfortunately Berlusconi seems unbothered. There have been demonstrations all over the country, and especially in Padova, where the university tradition is particularly strong. Every day as we walk to and from the university, we see professors holding classes outside in the piazze as a form of protest- and this happens with or without good weather. Last night we saw a candlelit march of practically the entire student body of the University of Padova (thousands of students) who were staging a funeral for the death of the education system in Italy. Interestingly enough, Berlusconi has been publicly announcing that all nationwide demonstrations are just propaganda coming from the political left. It is kind of unbelievable to witness a government that is so clearly disinterested in what the people have to say, and yet still remains in power. Berlusconi actually owns three tv news stations, and controls a few national newspapers. Both of our host families are up in arms about it...Katie's because her host mom is a teacher, and Ari's because her host parents can't handle a cut in school hours, since they both work. It's pretty upsetting to see in action for us, since we can't really comprehend the passing of a bill that is so obviously against the people's wishes and the general welfare of the nation.
Other than that, life is wonderful and back to usual at the moment. We've just finished classes for the week, so we're off on one more group trip early tomorrow morning. This one is going to Trento and involves... a castle and some yummy food. We are excited. Saturday we're thinking about once more wandering Venice for the day. Sunday will most likely be.. markets and homework. Seems like this will be our last weekend around home though (we have all kinds of plans involving Prague, Lugano, Paris, Vienna, and Lucca). So if this was totally boring to read... sorry. We're not feeling particularly creative, and we swear that the next one will be better.
In the meantime, we love you all and send baci! Hope all is well back in the homeland!
~le ragazze
The next morning, Ari found a lovely black and floral scarf at the incredible Florence markets, and then saw the Capella dei Principi, the official chapel of the Medici family. The inside is decorated with beautiful green and russet marble, and all the family members are buried below. Then we boarded a train to Perugia for the international chocolate festival: 'Eurochocolate.' We had no idea the bounty of magnificence that lay in wait for our sweet-starved bodies. But first... we had to prove our worth by climbing for an hour to reach the town summit (which is actually on the top of a mountain.. not exaggerating- at points you have to take outdoor escalators). But we got there eventually, and were immediately awed by the sheer quantity of chocolate, and the beauty of the location (inside of a mountain-top castle overlooking the whole city). There was chocolate from literally all over the world, and in nearly every form (liquid, bars, sculptures, cutlery, giant chess pieces, etc.). It is also all served by extremely attractive men.. and the combination of molten chocolate happiness and sexy man specimen is pretty overwhelming. Needless to say, we ended up with massive sacks of booty (chocolate booty, that is) and happy tummies.
Saturday, we decided to do a wine tour through the hostel company. It was an amazing deal: for only 25 Euro, we got a full day tour of Chianti, with two wineries, lunch, and a visit to the Medieval town of San Gimignano. While on the bus, our tour guide taught us some funny Italian hand gestures and phrases, as well as some amusing cultural differences. We were told that the proper response to the "Ciao, bella!" (Hi, beautiful!) much used by the overeager opposite sex, is "Ciao, brutto!" (Hi, ugly!). Our first stop was a little farm that used to be owned by the famous Florentine Pitti family. There we tasted about four different types of their wine, and their homemade olive oil, sausages, cheese, and bruschetta (with homegrown tomatoes). It was amazing. Then we hopped back on the bus and drove through the gorgeous countryside of Chianti to San Gimignano, which is possibly the most beautiful place we have been to so far in Europe. We were sad that we only had an hour or so there, but we did get to taste "Italy's best gelato" (it actually did win first place in the contest), and we climbed to the top of a tower for a stunning view of the entire region. There was a beautiful garden on top, with groves of olive trees, and a harp player strumming a melody to accompany our wanderings and wistful sighs... bellissima. After walking back down the mountain, we boarded the bus bound for the second winery of the day, which makes wines that have won gold medals in NYC. We tasted this medal-winning wine, but sadly were not quite at the level of wine connoisseurs in appreciating it. We're getting much better, though! We tried 10-ish types of wine here, and then some incredible home-made olive oil with truffles, and honey with truffles. It was incredible, and apparently a potent aphrodisiac (although there were no problems on the bus ride home). At this point, we were quite tired, so we rested for a bit back in Florence before heading out for dinner and our night-time stroll (where we were amazed anew at the audacity of some of the men in the more Southern sections of Italy).
Sunday morning, we remained in Florence in order to see some of the sights that we had missed the previous visit. After some thrifty gift-purchases in the market, we went to the Palazzo Vecchio, a Medici palace in the middle of the city, and spent several hours wandering the rooms. In accordance with all of the other grand Palazzi, it was sumptous, massive and filled with artwork. Then we grabbed a quick panino before heading over to the church of Santa Croce, which is famous not only for its beauty, but also for the ridiculous number of famous Italians that are buried there. We saw the tombs of: Galileo Galilei, Niccolo Machiavelli, Michelangelo Buonarrotti, and tributes to Dante Alighieri (who is actually buried in Ravenna), and Leonardo Da Vinci. Napoleon's family is also buried there, for some reason. Then we spent a wonderfully relaxing afternoon wandering around Florence, until we happened upon a massive crowd of people outside Florence's famous 'Duomo' and baptistry. We waited around to see what it was all about, and it turns out that a new Bishop was being inducted for Florence. There was actually a parade of berobed holy men. Also lots of camera crews, and catholic secret service. Sadly, no pope and no funny looking Swiss Guards.
We then made our way to the train station, and after a few train-related mishaps, returned home to Padova. Where we found ourselves in the midst of a nation-wide protest over a huge education reform that the Italian Prime Minister (Berlusconi) is pushing through both houses, and just got approved. This reform is hugely cutting down on the staffs, courses offered, and hours of the public schools, and has angered almost every Italian citizen, but unfortunately Berlusconi seems unbothered. There have been demonstrations all over the country, and especially in Padova, where the university tradition is particularly strong. Every day as we walk to and from the university, we see professors holding classes outside in the piazze as a form of protest- and this happens with or without good weather. Last night we saw a candlelit march of practically the entire student body of the University of Padova (thousands of students) who were staging a funeral for the death of the education system in Italy. Interestingly enough, Berlusconi has been publicly announcing that all nationwide demonstrations are just propaganda coming from the political left. It is kind of unbelievable to witness a government that is so clearly disinterested in what the people have to say, and yet still remains in power. Berlusconi actually owns three tv news stations, and controls a few national newspapers. Both of our host families are up in arms about it...Katie's because her host mom is a teacher, and Ari's because her host parents can't handle a cut in school hours, since they both work. It's pretty upsetting to see in action for us, since we can't really comprehend the passing of a bill that is so obviously against the people's wishes and the general welfare of the nation.
Other than that, life is wonderful and back to usual at the moment. We've just finished classes for the week, so we're off on one more group trip early tomorrow morning. This one is going to Trento and involves... a castle and some yummy food. We are excited. Saturday we're thinking about once more wandering Venice for the day. Sunday will most likely be.. markets and homework. Seems like this will be our last weekend around home though (we have all kinds of plans involving Prague, Lugano, Paris, Vienna, and Lucca). So if this was totally boring to read... sorry. We're not feeling particularly creative, and we swear that the next one will be better.
In the meantime, we love you all and send baci! Hope all is well back in the homeland!
~le ragazze
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
What happens when we tap into the flow...
... the flow of free wine at our group lunch, and the flow of our creative juices in composing a collaborative novel following said lunch.
We know what you are thinking, but trust us: we have serious literary success in our futures.
So. An explanation. Last last Friday (aka two weeks ago), there was another group trip! This time we all boarded a coach bus and headed out to Vicenza at the crack of dawn. After we arrived (and listened to intensely lengthy history lectures in Italian), we went to see a beautiful, ancient Roman indoor theatre. This theatre was actually stunning and so well designed for acoustics that the actors don't need to use microphones. But other than the theatre, there is not much to report about the objects and sights we were supposed to be appreciating in Vicenza. The real highlights of the trip were three things: the FANTASTIC shopping in the area (including the best H&M we have ever seen), a delicious free lunch (with...free high-quality wine), and then, the birth of the greatest collaborative novel the world has ever seen. After several hours of unnecessarily long history lecture, Ari decided that it was time for a little literary pick-me-up. So, she started a collaborative novel...between herself, Katie, and one of the boys from the group (Andrew). It started out innocently enough, and then devolved into an epic tale of a fairy godmother, an orphan, a naked man-beast, a British anteater, a diabolical villain, and a quest. The composition of this novel started about midday, and is still enjoying new installations daily. Which, by the way, Ari needs to harness her creative genius tonight to finish her section. True to our usual form, we spent the entire day marveling at our creation, and laughing so hard that we were sore the next day. It was lovely.
As it turns out, we needed a bit of recovery the next day, which coincided nicely with the onset of two thorough colds, cramps, and the absence of Ari's entire host family for the weekend. The day was spent in pajamas on the couch, watching Disney movies in Italian, drinking tea, and enjoying a fabulous indoor picnic. This enabled us to recover our strength for the market on Sunday, as well as the coming week of intense traveling.
We love Italian professors. Wednesday... class was randomly canceled (again)... so we popped over to Verona for the day! After (finally) navigating the bus system, we explored the downtown area for a while- which included yummy lunch, an old Roman amphitheater, and some snazzy, old buildings. Then, we found the castle. Both of our childhood dreams were realized as we strolled along the turrets and waved dramatically at the peasants milling about in the courtyard below. We were highly amused. The view from these turrets was spectacular and resembled something straight out of a storybook. After crossing our fantastic drawbridge and bidding our admiring knights adieu, we set off on our own quest to find another cool church. This one was built in the 10th century, and is perfectly preserved, with a cute little courtyard and a cloister. It was particularly interesting because underneath some of the frescoes on the walls of the church, you can see the remains of the frescoes that were painted over. (At this point, after seeing enormous quantities of old churches, we tend to look for the distinguishing factors in each.. the better to remember them, if you will.)
After that solid day of adventuring we returned to Padova for the weekly Spritz night, classes on Thursday, and then immediately left for FLORENCE PART DEUX! (Which we will write about in the blog to follow, as we didn't want to burden you all with the biggest novel of a blog ever written...so read on!)
Love you all, loyal readers.
~le ragazze
We know what you are thinking, but trust us: we have serious literary success in our futures.
So. An explanation. Last last Friday (aka two weeks ago), there was another group trip! This time we all boarded a coach bus and headed out to Vicenza at the crack of dawn. After we arrived (and listened to intensely lengthy history lectures in Italian), we went to see a beautiful, ancient Roman indoor theatre. This theatre was actually stunning and so well designed for acoustics that the actors don't need to use microphones. But other than the theatre, there is not much to report about the objects and sights we were supposed to be appreciating in Vicenza. The real highlights of the trip were three things: the FANTASTIC shopping in the area (including the best H&M we have ever seen), a delicious free lunch (with...free high-quality wine), and then, the birth of the greatest collaborative novel the world has ever seen. After several hours of unnecessarily long history lecture, Ari decided that it was time for a little literary pick-me-up. So, she started a collaborative novel...between herself, Katie, and one of the boys from the group (Andrew). It started out innocently enough, and then devolved into an epic tale of a fairy godmother, an orphan, a naked man-beast, a British anteater, a diabolical villain, and a quest. The composition of this novel started about midday, and is still enjoying new installations daily. Which, by the way, Ari needs to harness her creative genius tonight to finish her section. True to our usual form, we spent the entire day marveling at our creation, and laughing so hard that we were sore the next day. It was lovely.
As it turns out, we needed a bit of recovery the next day, which coincided nicely with the onset of two thorough colds, cramps, and the absence of Ari's entire host family for the weekend. The day was spent in pajamas on the couch, watching Disney movies in Italian, drinking tea, and enjoying a fabulous indoor picnic. This enabled us to recover our strength for the market on Sunday, as well as the coming week of intense traveling.
We love Italian professors. Wednesday... class was randomly canceled (again)... so we popped over to Verona for the day! After (finally) navigating the bus system, we explored the downtown area for a while- which included yummy lunch, an old Roman amphitheater, and some snazzy, old buildings. Then, we found the castle. Both of our childhood dreams were realized as we strolled along the turrets and waved dramatically at the peasants milling about in the courtyard below. We were highly amused. The view from these turrets was spectacular and resembled something straight out of a storybook. After crossing our fantastic drawbridge and bidding our admiring knights adieu, we set off on our own quest to find another cool church. This one was built in the 10th century, and is perfectly preserved, with a cute little courtyard and a cloister. It was particularly interesting because underneath some of the frescoes on the walls of the church, you can see the remains of the frescoes that were painted over. (At this point, after seeing enormous quantities of old churches, we tend to look for the distinguishing factors in each.. the better to remember them, if you will.)
After that solid day of adventuring we returned to Padova for the weekly Spritz night, classes on Thursday, and then immediately left for FLORENCE PART DEUX! (Which we will write about in the blog to follow, as we didn't want to burden you all with the biggest novel of a blog ever written...so read on!)
Love you all, loyal readers.
~le ragazze
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
