Cinque Terre

So, last weekend, our second long weekend, Teresa, Mary-Joy, Adam, and I went to Cinque Terre. It is in North-Western Italy, and is composed of five small towns that are rather strung like beads on a necklace by walking paths along the coast.

We first arrived at around ten at night in the last city, Monterosso, on Thursday (we had taken a train almost directly after classes ended that day). We ran out of the train station to the side walk and leant over the guardrail, filling our lungs with delicious salty air and listening to the calm rush of the waves on the beach. As we were a little tired, we wanted to get to bed, and found a perfect camping spot - it was quite a hike up this steep, shale-y trail which led us over a small electric fence into an overgrown garden. From the drop-off, we could see the sparkling lights of Monterosso far below. There were some ominous looking clouds, so we set up the small two person tent (which the three of us girls crammed into - it was quite cozy!) and then wrapped our backpacks many times in garbage bags intelligently brought from campus. Adam slipped half under the rain fly of the tent, and we fell asleep. In the middle of the night, there was suddenly this crash and the tent began to shake under the sudden torrents of rain which burst from the sky. Really, in the long run, we three girls were quite comfortable, if a little squished, in the tent - it was very toasty warm and we didn't get wet at all. Poor Adam was another story. His only comment when he woke up was, "So, yeah, it's [the sleeping bag] not waterproof."

--The next morning, we packed up our things and went to find a hostel for the next night. Had it not been so wet, I would have much preferred saving 50 euro and staying outdoors, but with the rain? Mmmm...--

Friday: It was raining still. But we decided that we would hike from Monterosso to Vernazza (the next city) nonetheless. The hike was really quite easy, and though it got a little slick in areas, it was so great. (I miss climbing so much.) It was quite an Eden-like experience actually, with the steady mist of rain. It made the plants and flowers look tropical and perfect, and the view over the sea as we walked was utterly splendid. (I hiked as usual in bare-feet, and got many different comments in many different languages: Chinese, French, German, Italian, English (American, Cockney, Scotch, and Australian dialects.) We also saw a little place where people put food for abandoned cats. How cute. When we got to Vernazza, we opened up our lunch (consisting of bread, nutella, champagne, tomatoes, fresh buffalo mozzarella, and Greek yogurt), and made our way partially through it before it began to totally down-pour. We picked up our comestibles and dashed for cover. As it continued to pour, we just decided to take the 1 euro train back to Monterosso.

--Low of the day: I and Adam had planned on going cliff jumping (there are great cliffs that a bunch of other people had jumped just the previous week), but due to the storms, we weren't able to. Dangit!--

We changed clothes, I took a nap, and then we went to dinner at a little pizza place there. The pizza was excellent--I liked the pesto the best. Apparently Monterosso is famous for their pesto. I believe it.

--High of the day: Being able to communicate with the old Italian man who spoke no English at the hostel. I used my Italian to rent the rooms and did quite well if I do say so myself. I suppose I should just pat myself on the back right now...--

Saturday: We went to breakfast at this little sea-side cafe and studied for a while, which was really nice. After that, we hung out on the beach though it really wasn't that sunny. We bought some fruit for lunch, and ate it there too. Then I took another nap, we went to Mass, and then dinner. Dinner this time was a little pricey as we went to a little restaurant with sea-food. I think it's rather important to get the traditional food of where you are staying and this place was really great. It was a family restaurant, actually owned by the family of the same fellow that owned the pizza place we had gone to the night before. After that, we went to a bar and got Baby Guinness shots (Kahlua and Bailey's--delicious), though the guy didn't make them correctly. He mixed them. Ridiculous!

--High point of the day: BAILEY'S.--

Sunday: FINALLY it was sunny! We basically spent the day on the beach. I got a little pink....and then we came back to campus.

--Low Point of the day: Going topless on Italian beaches is rampant. CHARMING. I was just sitting there journaling, and then, WOAH! "Um, hi." Also, speedos are gross.--

Though the weekend was fabulous (despite the rain), I was so happy to get back to campus. It sounds so horrendously trite, but I feel like Rome is home. On the way back in the train, I was just thinking, "Gosh! I'm so happy to be going home." I'm just so comfortable and happy here. I can't even think about leaving right now...

--A not low, but a not high point of the day: When the Italian fellow sitting across from me on the train asked me if American boys were different that Italian boys.--

Apologies for the lack of details toward the end...

Drunk on Rome

Last Wednesday a bunch of us (John, Juan, Ana, James, Liz, Will, and I) had to go into Termini to buy our tickets for our long weekend trips. After purchasing our tickets, John and Juan went back to campus to finish up some homework, but the rest of us had planned on going to Mass at a French church at the top of the Spanish Steps and then go to dinner together. So, we casually wandered the streets of Rome until we came to the Spanish Steps. To be completely honest, until that day, I was not that impressed with the Steps—perhaps due to some unsavoury encounters with street vendors on previous visits. We had about a half hour until Mass, so we sat together on the Steps talking, writing postcards, and taking photos. After a few minutes, I decided just to pop my head into the Church. I thought I had walked into Heaven. The French monks and nuns at the Church were singing Vespers in French, and it was possibly the most beautiful music I've ever heard in my life. I dashed back down the Steps, and cried, “Guys! You HAVE to come now!” They gathered up their things and so we were able to catch the last few minutes of the Vespers before Mass. Mass was so lovely, of course, said all in French. I was delighted that I was able to understand the readings and most of the homily with my broken French (thanks, Papa). Father talked about Mary's gift of her only Son to the Church, her Grace, Love for us and her overwhelming selflessness to her spiritual children. It was SO beautiful. Will and Liz (lucky ducks!) were asked to bring up the gifts for Mass—I was so delighted for them. I just cannot get over the amount of grace that just seems to be pouring out of Rome all the time. When I left Mass, I was practically flying I was so happy. We were drunk on grace.

When we stepped out of the Church, Trinita dei Monti, it was just getting towards dusk, and we could see the shadowy domes of churches glowing pinkish along the horizon with St. Peter's standing calmly, almost beckoning to us in the back—it was glorious. We headed towards St. Peter's (on the way, James bought a laser-light from a street vendor, much to my and Ana's incredulity), and found a little place to eat. I cannot remember the name, but it was relatively near the Vatican, fairly near the Bridge of Angels. It was so nice with just the five of us (though our waiter was pretty nasty, even though I spoke to him in Italian), all sitting outdoors around a little table with our pizza. We had some great conversations, mostly about the times when we first met each other. Such a great group of people.

After dinner, Will and I had to mail postcards and then we wanted gelato, so we went to St. Peter's and dropped the postcards off, but then sat for quite a while in front of St. Peter's. It was surprisingly quiet there at around ten at night. I feel like I'm being redundant in saying how beautiful it is, but truly, it's such an understatement. It's so beautiful and so comfortable to be there: Rome IS like being home. We finally tore ourselves away to get gelato at Old Bridge—the hands-down best gelateria in Rome and the cheapest! It seems like it's the same guys who work there all the time. One fellow I've seen there the past few times recognized me and said, “you're back!” So we chatted in Italian for a little, and then he asked me if I wanted whipped cream on my gelato. I was so full from dinner, so I said no, and then he laughed and said, “Yes, will make you fat!” Cheeky blighter.

A metro ride, a bus ride, and a short walk later, and we were back on campus, happy, full, and quite sticky with gelato (Italian napkins are a rip-off: they don't work). Of course, it was just a typical day in Rome...absolutely splendid.

I Will Never Forget

Yesterday, on the ninth anniversary of 9/11, I was walking through the ruins of Pompeii. Seeing the dead bodies of the people in this town that was until only quite recently really nine meters deep in ash was a shocking and emotional experience to have on that day.

Remember September 11. +For the souls of the faithful departed in the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.+

An Indictment

Written by my dearest sister, Therese Marie, to yours truly.

In years past you were always my very best friend
I never thought this time would come to an end
Yet I write you now saying one final adieu;
Le memoire de toi je va jette dans le feu.

Why is this, oh why? You may mournfully ask.
Even worse, then, you might try to take me to task:
"To banish a friend? What disloyalty!"
When I give you the cause you most surely will see

That a friendship like ours, certes, never could last
Too often our good times stay stuck in the past;
That time in the tree we climbed high to avoid
Joey's rage which caused him to throw stones like Pink Floyd

(No really? You ask, turning over with mirth,
Such a rhyme, such a frame, such a relative dearth
of the ever so clever ways generally found
to banish bad poetry's "talking around")

In fact though, the reason I haven't yet stated.
It seems, be it known, that our ways are quite fated;
With you going east as I travel west--
I imagine you'll revel at Octoberfest--

Which, remember, is one thing I never have seen,
Drunken Germans, that is, lumbering on the green
While sober (or semi) UDers complain
Of pedestrian, bad tasting beers back in Spain

Or superior wines that they relished in France
And of Europe's so eerie extinction of ants
And other small creatures that could be called pests;
Well, really, Americans, it's for the best--

The ravages of a strange thing called the plague
Are the sort of thing tourists will want to have vague
Assurances given them about the rarity,
Of this, even if promises are at var-ity

With the truth (like the word which I just
have invented). In any case Must
is a word that's intended to give
you a sense of how you should live.

At least while in Texas then, I will command
That you heed to my every whim and demand.
You MUST see the Pope five more times at the least
And ask him questions on the oft-rumored beast

And whether the world is in danger of drought
Or if there's a way to avoid old-age gout.
And after the Pope, there's Apollo to see;
He'll be waiting for you on the slopes at Delphi.

Climb the mountain, consult him, implore him for me,
Ask him whether Dallas might some day be the sea
And Irving, dear Irving, under the hot sun
May be on the shore of a new Caspian.

Now that would be awesome. Nay, do not ye think?
It might even be made of water fresh to drink
And lovely to swim in, besides being quite
Apocalyptic, because we're in the right

To critique all these warehouses' ugly facades
Because, after all, we are the new demi-gods
Of a civilization that's losing its head
While we, the UDers stay calm and well-fed

On Plato and Dante at least, if not food,
Our minds divinized as we grow much more shrewd
Than anyone else in this desolate place...
(What, are we pretentious? How to regain face?)

I'll stop all that there, that generic UD-talk
And return to the reason we might have to balk
At maintaining a friendship of such long histoire
And inform you that soon enough tu iras voir

Pourquoi nous avons la raison de nous rompre.
It's simply the case that this place is too somber.
No partying here from the dusk to the dawn
Which is what used to happen when you remained on

The campus, at our place, oft cooking us food,
Which without you, I'll say, is hardly as good.
The disloyal preference of Rome over us
Is not an issue over which I'll much fuss

A simple indictment of your grievous wrong
Is the message behind this most genial song,
Your time will be neat in the old continent
But when you return you will have to consent

To being less privileged than you one time were;
Say sharing a room with two others--infer
That you won't have the couch to yourself as your lot.
Other people have taken that coveted spot.

Tell stories, write letters, send emails in vain;
You will never assuage the e'er deepening pain
That your heartless abandonment caused in our hearts.
So just be aware when returned to these parts

That Chelsea, Meg, Mary, and Kaitlyn and I,
Whenever we think of you, weep and then sigh
For our so sorry lots on this weary old earth
Where your absence in Rome means an absence of mirth.

I hope the Italians know how to laugh
At last, for your jokes so invariably daft,
Should amuse them should you put on common parlance
And perhaps the Fall Romers will learn how to dance...

My speculations could unfold at great length
But now is the moment to summon my strength
And tear myself from this long letter to you;
And here, Mary Brigid, I bid you adieu.

The Long Weekend: Siena and San Gimignano

Lets see, where to begin...I will warn you that it will be cursory and poorly written.

Well, this past weekend was our first long weekend. (We don't have classes on Fridays, so technically, excepting certain class weekend trips, all our weekends are long weekends - YES!) Some friends of mine--Jacob, Taylor, Gillian, Joe, and Mary--and I decided that we would spend these first consecutive days of freedom in Siena. Friday morning, after riding a bus, a metro, and then two trains, we finally arrived at our destination.

Siena is lovely. It is much more medieval than Rome is, so it was a very neat change of scene (though of course, Rome is lovely and fabulous and I love it dearly). Friday was filled with lots of walking as we explored the city. We looked at the Duomo, but didn't go inside as it cost 10 euro: an utterly absurd amount. There is an awkward/odd/scary/funny story that goes along with the Duomo and the Piazza. Ask me in person sometime. After that we walked to the Church of St. Dominic where St. Catherine of Siena's incorruptible head is kept. That was AMAZING. Perhaps a little grotesque, but really such an incredible thing. After that we went into the Fortrezza di Medici; the walls of that thing are ridiculous! We went to a lovely little church for Mass and then went to a restaurant that Msgnr. Fucinaro had told us about. It was quite lovely as the sun was setting and we were sitting on this lovely little Sienese street drinking wine and eating pasta. Perfetto!

Note: One thing I have noticed about the Italian crucifixes is that they are very life-like. I feel as though the crucifixes in America really "clean Jesus up" in a way. He is always presented very gracefully, but in Italy, He just looks so tortured and in pain. It's quite eye-opening and really makes you think a lot more when you look at it. There's something there that really hits you and makes you say, "Yeah, He did THAT for ME."

After gelato (yay!) we spent sleeping outside the walls of Siena. I found a lovely little place with lots of tree cover and flat, softish ground right up against the wall.

The next morning we went to the Basilica of Saint Francis and saw a Eucharistic Miracle! It was amazing! Here is the story: http://www.therealpresence.org/eucharst/mir/siena.html
The Holy Eucharist was not exposed, as they just don't want tons of tourists coming to "see the show". So we went and we asked this dear old priest that was there. He gave us this little homily and then exposed the miracle and let us get really close and pray. It was just the most overwhelming experience! So much grace! I still cannot believe it.

We got some bread and tomatoes and fruit at a little supermarket and had lunch in Siena and then took a bus to San Gimignano, a little town an hour away. It was SO lovely! We met up with one of our R.A's, Jon (he's super cool!) and we went to apparently the best gelato shop in the world, or at least in Italy. It was delicious. They had a million and ten different flavours, such as wine, white chocolate, raspberry-rosemary, and tiramisu. SO delicious! Jon had heard that there was a wine tasting festival in the town and after we walked around a bit we went there. To get in cost 8 euro for the wine tasting...so we thought. After we got in we discovered that in this package, we also basically got a free meal from all these food vendors that had the most delicious food. The wild boar was our favourite! So, we had an evening of TONS of delicious wine, fabulous food, and lovely company all on top of a lovely hill as the sun was setting. It was so perfect.

That night was not so much fun. We couldn't find a place to stay, so we finally ended up staying in an olive orchard...It was cold and uncomfortable, and I think I only got an hour of sleep. It didn't help that it may or may not have been private, so we were a little scared that the police might have shown up...but they didn't so it was all okay.

Then, we went back to campus, all very dirty, very tired, but very satisfied with our weekend.

As predicted, you have a cursory and poorly written entry, but le voila!--my weekend.