Munich

Last weekend was mine and Sara’s last weekend trip together before we return home, so to end with a bang we ventured to Munich. This was my second trip to Munich, but we meet up with John, a friend of ours from the sailing team who had recently moved to Stuttgart and told him our two goals while there were to go to as many Christmas markets and beer halls as possible. Well let’s just say we probably hit over a dozen Christmas markets, they were everywhere! The whole town was one giant Christmas market. As for beer halls, we managed to go to three, and went to Dachau, so in the end it was quite a successful trip.

We arrived in Munich Friday night and stayed in the best hostel so far, all glass, a covered courtyard, an amazing breakfast buffet, and very clean. Our first stop was the Augistiner Brewery, one of the main four in Bavaria. It is off the path and unlike the Hofbrauhaus, very un-touristy. We sat at an open table with a nice looking couple and there two friends. As we looked at the menu, we realized that the couple was on our menu....a few questions later we find out we were sitting with the owners of the place! They were very nice, helped us decide on the best things to order and even shared some cookies with us.

Saturday morning we woke up to very cold weather, about 14 degrees Fahrenheit and due to a large snowstorm earlier in the week, the ground was covered in snow. They don't seem to shovel there, instead the snow simply covers the ground, sidewalks, and streets until it becomes packed down and everything is blanketed in white. We saw some churches, went to the Oktoberfest fair grounds (where a giant christmas market had sprung up), wandered all around, to the English garden (christmas market), Mareinplatz (giant christmas market), Odeinplatz (gluhwein stand), and even saw Sinterclaus! We ended the night at the Hofbrauhaus, where we didn't meet the owners, but we did manage to consume 8 masses (those giant steins).

Sunday was another frigid day, but we bundled up and went to the Dachau concentration camp. Seeing it covered in snow and freezing really added another element to the whole experience. We did the audio tour and saw the makeshift monuments set up for Christmas and Hanukah. In true Moffitt fashion we had a lunch of stolen sandwich material from the hostel and some hot chocolate just to warm up.
We hit up one last Christmas festival that afternoon and then headed to the airport, where low and behold there was another Christmas market! I love Germany at Christmas time!

Amsterdam!

            Mostly due to Sara’s convincing, I went to Amsterdam this weekend. I had no idea what to expect before going, it is hard to imagine Holland much past windmills and clogs, while Amsterdam had always just seemed like a town of partying backwash to me. But I went, and it turns out, I love Holland and even better, everyone there looks just like me!

            We arrived around seven on Thursday night after flying our first reputable airlines since arriving, reputable as in its theme colors weren’t neon and they actually had snacks and leg room. We meet up with a friend of ours from SACI and her friend from home for drinks in downtown and to orient ourselves. Walking from the bar to the bus stop we found our first red-lighted window, complete with a prostitute on display. At the time it was very exciting, but much like the bison in yellow stone phenomenon, by the end we would see so many it was almost obnoxious.

            Our hostel was a 30 minute bus ride to the suburbs, it was part hotel, part hostel, you could easily tell which patrons would be sleeping in the dorm rooms by the giant backpacks and/or bloodshot eyes. Our room slept six people, complete with a very very loud snorer, but it was clean and had a good free breakfast so no complaints there.

            Friday we wandered the red light district and were surprised to find that not only do prostitutes start work at 8:30 am in the morning, but also that they come in all shapes and ages, and I mean all. We saw some churches, including St. Nicholas’s, the patron saint of sailors, found the oldest pedestrian-draw bridge, admired the canals, charming row houses, and quaint feel of it all. Dutch Pancakes made up our lunch before we hit the Van Gogh museum and wandered around the 9’s district (there version of

Newberry street

or SoH0).  It was sunny but cold, probably -7 Celsius, so about every two hours we had to go inside somewhere and warm up or else suffer frostbite.

The most shocking thing about Amsterdam is the coziness of it. Everything is very well maintained and seems to be straight out of a Vermeer or Rembrandt painting. The canals with houseboats and stone bridges lead to numerous parks and every house is adorable. This charm is throughout the city, which makes the red light district so shocking, one moment you are admiring architecture, and the next moment you realize there are prostitutes in the windows and pot on the menu. Outside of the central canal though things are very calm, no prostitutes and not many coffee houses.

Saturday we woke up to a few inches of snow and trudged through it to the Anne Frank house. From there Sara went to the Rjiks museum while I found some more monuments and window shopped. Afterwards we stumbled across a Christmarket and indulged in some glue wine and morsels and are too good to describe and way to difficult to even attempt to spell.

Sunday, despite the freezing cold, we rented bikes and pretend to be local for a bit. Everyone rides bikes around, instead of burlies, they have carts in the front, like a cross between a wheelbarrow and a bike. We saw everything being transported in these carts from up to five children to a week’s worth of groceries. We rode around all the canals, Vondelpark, and managed to never be hit by a car or fellow biker. It was then time to head to the airport and hope back on a plane to Florence.

Assisi

Art History Field Trip to Assisi

Since I only have five weekends left here, I decided to mix up my fun and care-free travels with something a little more serious. So this past weekend I joined in on the art history class's field trip to Assisi, Arezzo, Urbino, and some other small random towns and seemed to hold significance to everyone but me. I went a long because I wanted to see Assisi, the trip was free including hotel, and all my friends were going. It sounds great, being able to go to all these museums, hear vital information about the architecture of churches and frescoes, but once you meet the teacher, Helen, you would understand the seriousness of the situation.

Helen has no last name, like Madonna, or Sting. She is either a well kept 70 or a hard lived 50. I tried to look at her hands as an indicator, but they never stayed still. She is a whirlwind, walking at a pace even my parents would have trouble keeping up with and constantly spouting a fountain of encyclopedic knowledge regarding every detail of a painting or church. She could talk for two hours about an alter that looks like every other renaissance alter, in fact she did talk for two hours about said alter, always in the same tone, no voice infliction is ever used.

Luckily for me though, I am not in the class and will not have to take a test on the information, so after about ten minutes I would simply shut of my headset with her voice being pounded into my skull, and walk around the church or museum in silence. I got to see some amazing things, including St. Francis church where his tomb is. It is the most elaborately decorated church, covered in frescoes that even I could love. His tomb is simply, fitting with his lifestyle, and surrounded by monks and other pilgrims, silently praying. We saw his old cell where there is a statue of him that two turtle doves live in. A long time ago a dove built a nest in the statue's hands and two of them have been there ever since. I am trying to stay idealistic and ignore the fact they are probably trained pets and simply a tourist attractions. Assisi, Arezzo, and Urbino are adorable walled cities, bustling with old women in aprons, men leaning out the window sills, fresh back bread and church bells. I tried to take in as much of the towns charm as possible as we speed walked across it, all of Helen's body titled forwards to propel herself as much as possible.

In Urbino we got a tour of the palace were Duke Fredrich lived (the man in that painting in the Uffizi with the huge nose). We saw the servant’s quarters, the master chambers, and heard all about the paintings that adorned the walls. I tried to listen, but at one point I started taking pictures with my friends trying to poise like the Duke instead.

There was lots of driving in the bus, but at the end of the day Saturday we were rewarded with an amazing farm fresh dinner at our "hotel". Eating family style with about half the kids of SACI was really fun and I got to know a lot of people I never would of meet otherwise. The unlimited wine helped this friendly atmosphere and by the time our four course dinner was done everyone immediately went to bed. That’s what a full day of art history does to you, makes you fall fast asleep despite the fact it was barely ten o'clock. Sunday was filled with more driving and art learning. I saw the only painting of a pregnant Virgin Mary, climbed a hill to an old tower, saw frescoes and paintings and "miracle crosses" until I had art knowledge coming out of my ears.
It was all worth it though, I don't think I would have made it to these small towns on my own, and hey, now if it ever comes up, I can talk about the different between Pietro's frescoes and Davied's in the Marches church. Oh I also saw Rapheals house, well his parent’s house, but he was born there. I only know he matters because a turtle ranger is named after him, but to everyone else in the class this was like the holy shrine of Renaissance painting. I looked interested, but really I was just eating gummy bears.

Lovely Prague in the Fall!

Communism Week Pt. 3-Prague

Our week ended in the beautiful Czech Republic with a three day stay in Prague. We met Sara's two roommates out there and had a hostel that was right near the central square and got to hear the trumpet from the clock tower every hour, it was wonderful. The city seemed like a mix of Florence and Paris, beautiful old buildings on twisty windy streets that were dotted with historical landmarks and high end stores. Surprisingly though Prague was my least favorite of everywhere we went simply because it was so overrun by tourist. Especially drunk British men.

We started out a trip with a visit to a bar called Propaganda which was filled with old posters and pins of the Communist. We got our first taste of Czech Pilsner here, which was good, but not nearly as great as they seem to think. The next day we walked up to the castle which was spectacle. It was huge and the church was filled with stained glass by one of my favorite artist Mucha. We hung out on the Charles Bridge, taking pictures, admiring the view and drinking warm wine. We had goulash for dinner which despite its name is surprisingly filling and sampled some of the local apple strudel.

The next day Bonnie and Colleen flew home and Sara and I did another free walking tour! We saw the Jewish district (every town must have one apparently) key churches, statues, the old town, new town, and Frank Gehry house. We went to the Mucha museum and saw a bunch of his orginal work and sketches. That night we searched for about four different restaurant's that our book suggested, all of which were full for some reason! After walking all over town in the cold we settled at a intimatee brew pub where we got to taste some home made beer and I had my fifth serving of Goulash, I really like it!

The next day we wondered about, saw a church that has a mummified human arm hanging from the ceiling (apparently the statue of Mary grabbed it when a thief tried to steal her necklace), saw the Jewish cemetery, and hung around some kind of festival in the main square. We then took the subway to the Prague airport with about 30 Czech crowns left between us...or a dollar and a half. At the airport we found our Easy Jet flight was delayed two hour due to weather, leaving us stuck at an airport at 6pm with no money to buy food. This was the only time in the trip Sara and my relationship became at all strained as we slowly ate the one granola bar we had and debated on which cracker to buy out of the vending machine. Finally our flight took off and we landed in Milan around 9pm. We then had to take a bus for an hour to the train station, where we searched for our hostel in the pouring rain and devoured a donner kebab that our lovely euros bought us. Our hostel room that night was the honeymoon suite. One bed for us to share surrounded by sensual paintings. The room did have a glass shower in it though , literally in the room, to be exact at the foot of the bed. We slept for about five hours before getting up and catching the 6am train back to Florence just in time for our 9am classes. A rude welcome back into Florence life but we were exhausted from the trip and ready to be back in our own beds.
The trip was amazing though and I could of kept going for a few more weeks; just exploring, trying new foods, discovering random streets, Florence life seems so mundane compared to our Eastern European adventures!

Buda looking towards Pest

The Turkish Bath

Eastern Europe Part 2. Budapest, Hungary

After our overnight train we arrived in Budapest at 8am, tired, but ready to see the city. Our first introduction to Hungary came when we tried to take money out of the ATM to find that our options were limited to amounts ranging from 10,000 to 100,000....200 Hungarian Fornitz is equal to 1 U.S Dollar. So carrying around a few thousand in your pocket is really nothing...The smallest bill is 500...100 and 200 are coins, going all the way down to 10 fornitz coin, which is equal to about half a penny. We easily found our hostel since the Pest side of the river (where almost everything is besides the castle) is set up like Paris, with two main avenues running pparallel and two that run perpendicular.
We set off and went to the Terror museum, a museum showing the history of the Nazi's and Communism in Hungary.It is in the building that the Nazi's and then the Communist actually used as their headquarters, complete with the actual dungeon in the basement. It was really interesting to see the history of all the countries we were visiting and understand what the people had endured in there past. As our Hungarian tour guide put it, "Hungary was once great and huge, then we chose the wrong side in WW1, then again in WW2, then the communist came to liberate us, then they stayed for 40 years just to make sure we really were liberated."

After the museum we walked even further down the road and saw Hero's square and found the Turkish bath house. Budapest has a ton of mineral and thermal springs so when the Turks came they built bath houses everywhere. This place was like a palace, huge and ornate. It was about 18 euro to get in, and having no swimsuits we went in our bra and underwear. There were about 18 indoor hot tubs of varying degrees from very warm to freezing, a lap pool filled with old Hungarians doing aerobics, and about 6 saunas. All that would of been enough to make us happy since it was in an amazing environment, but then we went outside and our minds were blown. It was the largest hot tub (with natural mineral water) I have ever seen. Probably 400 meters long and filled with statues and fountains shooting water jets. There were even bubbles people would stand on (it made water go in places water shouldn't)  and a whirl pool! It was like being a princess!

After becoming total prunes in the bath we hunted down a restaurant we had read about in our travel book. It was described as a small intimate place where the women just serves you whatever she is making in her kitchen. That was no exaggeration, the meal was wonderful, a sauerkraut sausage paprika thing, everything had paprika, apparently it is the spice of Hungary. We literally were sitting in someones basement though and the only other people in there were the old men friends of the family who were singing and dancing the whole time. We did met two Hungarian high school students there who took us to a bar after dinner. It was in the old Jewish ghetto and was an apartment building that had been abandoned and since turned into a bar. It was the coolest thing, a crumbling building filled with artwork and random Christmas lights, you could tell what used to be the bathroom and kitchen, all now filled with mismatched couches, graffiti and d.j's.

The next day we joined another free walking tour and saw the major sites of the city, including the castle on the Buda side of the river and the Parliament building; which is almost an exact replica of the one in London but one meter longer. Our guide told us all about life in Hungary and explained how in many ways it is still very  much stuck in a communist mind set. All the people seem slightly run down and tired, as do the buildings. Some amazing Victorian buildings were just completely deserted and slowly falling apart. About every fourth shop was vacant and some amazing mosaics and statues were just left in doorways, slowly being destroyed.

After the tour we walked around the castle a little more, climbed up a very high hill to see a statue and a view of Budapest, and then found the market where we bought some paprika. After that we decided to class it up a bit and went to the Opera house. It was only 2 euro for tickets to see the ballet and enjoy the pretty much all gold interior. The ballet was Gone with the Wind, very random but it was enjoyable despite the fact I had no idea what was going on. The weirdest part was that at the Opera house I ran into someone I knew from high school! She was studying abroad in Vienna and was on a school trip, talk about a small world.

Our last morning in Budapest we went to the Synagogue (which was restored after the war by Jamie Lee Curtis's father) and then walked back to the train station to set off for Prague.

Sara, Alexis (Our polish guide and translator), and I in Poland!

All Saints day in Poland

Communism Week part 1-Krakow, Poland

I got a week off of school Starting October 30th, so me and my friend Sara Abad packed our small backpacks with enough clean underwear and headed off for nine days for eastern Europe! It was an amazing week and I am so glad I went to the places I did. The first stop on our trip was Krakow, Poland where my friend from home Alexis is studying. I had no idea what to expect about Poland, in no way is it somewhere yo often hear of tourists going and I had no preconceived notions as to what Krakow held. According to Rick Steve's it is "The Boston of Europe," that was all the convincing I needed.

We left Florence on Saturday the 30th and took a Ryan air flight to Krakow. We arrived latish in the evening but Alexis quickly met us at our hostel and brought us to a Peruogi restaurant. A perougi is the polish version of a dumpling, with anything inside from cheese and potatoes (the classic type) or sweet cheese and fruit. This was my first introduction into A. how good perougi's are, and B. just how much the Polish love their potatoes and their carbs!
After dinner we went to this great bar in the Jewish quarter. It was dark, stone (one of the first bars ever in Krakow), and it was entirely lit by candlelight! Can you imagine a pub in the U.S. have candles on the wooden tables with college kids all around! Adding to the very old fashion appearance of the bar was the fact that people are still allowed to smoke indoors in eastern Europe, so a thick haze of cigarette smoke fills all the bars and pubs, making my limited amount of clothing reek. Krakow has this great drink, which is a mix of light beer and either ginger or raspberry syrup. They were both great! And the ginger beer went especially well with meals.
The next day we had a great little breakfast at our hostel and then met up with Alexis at an antique flea market. After being tempted by multiple communism relics we left and went to a free walking tour of the city. It was the best thing since they work off of tips they want to make sure you have a good time. We learned all about the important buildings, the legends behind various statues, saw the castle, the dragons lair, about a million statues of Pope John Paul the second, and the largest medieval square in Europe. We took a quick lunch break (sauerkraut and sausage) and then started the tour again to see the Jewish quarter. We saw the old synagogues, the memorials, the ghetto where Roman Polanski escaped from, and Oskar Schindler's factory. It was really amazing.

The next day was all Saints Day and everything was closed, but we walked around the church again, wandered the river, and then made our way over to one of the largest cemetery's of Europe. It was probably a mile by a mile and it appeared that it was not night out at all but day with the millions of burning candles. We wandered throughout the cemetery and every single tomb had candles and flowers on it, some were covered with dozens and dozens of candles. The nuns and monks go around and make sure no one is left unattended and place candles and flowers on the graves where relatives were not around to do it. It was like looking out at a sea of candles which gently illuminated the headstones. By far one of the most interesting and breathtaking things I have ever seen. To add to the slightly spooky demeanor of it they very small church at the edge of the cemetery was broadcasting mass over loudspeakers.

We got on a train that night around ten to take the overnight to Budapest. We were slightly nervous about who our other bunk mates may be on the ten hour journey through Slovakia and Hungary but we entered to find a very nice couple on the bottom bunk and two dopey British boys on the middle bunks. We climbed up to our top bunks and semi-slept through the train journey. At one point the train split apart, with half going to Prague and half going to Budapest...we hoped we were on the right car going to Budapest and fell back asleep.

Squirrelican and Pemikan go North!

For my parents last weekend here we went on a little trip up north to Lake Como. It was almost like being back in Park City, surrounded by mountains and trees which were full of red and yellow leaves. But with a giant lake in the middle.
Our first night in Lake Como, which we spent in the town of Como, we stumbled across a road race! There were 92 cars all setting out one at a time to compete. It was quite the event and a really fun spontaneous thing to run into in quaint Como. In true Moffitt style we got up the next day and embarked on a Trek. Yes the guide book even called it a Trek. We decided not to do the 19 hour one, and instead took the funicular up the mountain into a hamlet which overlooked a section of the lake. It was so refreshing up there, and we mini-trekked to the Volta Light house for a picnic and Chestnut collecting.
The gate keeper of the light house showed up halfway through our picnic. He was about 85 and the perfect picture of a small rural Italian man. We paid to climb the light house just to give him a purpose, and he insisted on us first posing for some pictures and taking some brochures. When we came back down he had three cups of coffee waiting for us! Such a sweet man! I wanted to take him home, or at least be able to talk to him and hear his life story, but in my horrid Italian all I managed to ask was where he lived, to which he answered in Como City.
That day we packed up our stuff and took a ferry about an hour up the lake to Bellagio; the town is situated where all three fingers of the lake meet, or as Rick Steve's says, the crotch of Lake Como. The town was amazing, similar to cinque terre but with more of a Switzerland feel.
We stayed in Hotel Bellagio, which no, looked nothing like the Las Vegas version, but we did have a terrace that overlooked the lake. And the best part, we could see George Clooney's Villa from our terrace! Can't beat that!
We spent the next day walking around the town and into nearby hamlets. We found a self-service milk place, where they took local milk and made it into great yogurt and cheese and even had a milk vending machine outside. For dinner Friday night we went to this great restaurant for local pasta and meats, accompanied with a waiter who gave us all the scoop on the best appertivo in Milan....forewarning us that the place he recommend was actually a gay bar.
Saturday we said goodbye to Bellagio and got on the train Milan. Milan was big! Pretty architecture and lovely designer stores, but it did not seem to have any charm or character of it's own. We got to see the cathedral and the amazing shopping mall which seemed to be a work of art to itself. The main point of our visit was to see the Last Supper painting, which completely lived up to what I imagined. It was so big and still had such an auro of spirtualness about it. After seeing that we decided to continue on our art/da Vinci theme and went to an old fort which was now a museum. There was a whole room that da Vinci had painted and one of Michelangelo's unfinished statues of Mary holding Jesus, a pieta to be exact. That night we found an amazing appetivo place (not in a gay bar) with a spread that you can't imagine. Multiple kinds of pasta, chicken and potatoes, sauerkraut, mini-pizzas and bruschetta! So good! I then had to get on a train and say goodbye to my parents so that I could get back to school and they could go home. All that was waiting for me at home was Mid-terms and a dinner that needed to be cooked for myself.

Mom and Dad come to Florence!

As soon as I got back from Perugia last weekend I had my parents in Florence waiting for me! Luckily they had made it first class from Salt Lake over here and we had the whole week together!
Saturday night we went to a wonderful dinner at Aqua al Duo where they brought us sampler plates of about 6 different kinds of pasta, three different steaks in amazing sauces, and mom had chicken in the best port sauce ever!
Sunday we climbed up to San Minaota and over looked Florence on a beautiful day. We saw the Plaza Michelangelo, found a big grocery store(Conad) and saw my school and the Duomo. My parents moved from their hotel into an apartment across the river which is possible the cutest apartment I have ever seen. There was a little blue and yellow kitchen equipped with brand new pots and pans, a couch which turned into my bed for the week, a big bedroom with glass doors and windows which provided beautiful views of San Spirito and the Piti Palace. I semi-moved in with them for the week, allowing us to have breakfast and dinner together every day, go for family gelato walks to my favorite place, and in the morning I would leave them and walk across the Ponte Vecchio to school, just like if we all lived here!
Over the course of the week I got to show mom the Boboli gardens, we conquered the Uffizi and did manage to survive the three hours it took my dad to see everything, and thoroughly explored Florence. I was so happy to be able to show them the central market and my favorite cappachino place ( which we stopped at often).
To show them how much of an Italian I have become, one night Sara Abad and I made homemade spaghetti sauce one night with Tuscan sausage, all fresh from the market. Complete with backed apples and Nutella...how much more of an Italian experience can you hope to get?
Wednesday we attempted to go to Luca, and when we showed up at the train station, all the Luca trains were running about an hour and a half late. As we stood there and watched the board they kept on showing their arrival become later and later and finally showed that there departure from Florence was cancelled! We could  not figure out if they were just stopped on the track somewhere or what! So Luca got scrapped and we ended up having a Medici themed day, seeing their church and library.
Overall it was probably the best week I have had here! I got to see so much and it was so fun showing off my city to my parents...and they were somehow impressed with my Italian, probably only because I can speak five words of it and they can only speak one...but hey I will take what I can get!

So Much Chocolate!!!!

Perugia Chocolate Pilgrimage

Last weekend was an epic event here in Italy, no in Europe...the annual euro-chocolate fest! Sara and I made the train trip to Perugia to visit our friend Vanessa, but more importantly to stuff our faces with chocolate.
Friday night after we arrived we went to an amazing dinner at a restaurant appropriately named "Food lost in time". It was a four hour mail hand prepared by two women in a kitchen no larger than 5 feet by five feet. We had multiple litres of wine, appetizers that included baked eggplant, mozzarella balls, and stuffed mushrooms. This was followed by spinach gnocchi and walnut Alfredo. We completed our meal with some kind of pastry type thing containing nutella. The most surprising thing about it was that the total came to about 10 euro per person!
After dinner Sara and I were introduced to the Perugia night life, which apparently happens every night since it is such a small town and there is not much to wake up for. We dragged our friends out of the bar at about three am, only to have them tell us that was the earliest they had left all week!
The next day was chocolate time! The streets were filled with booths of every kind of chocolate, truffle, and melted concoction you can imagine. They even had shaved chocolate kebabs, hot chocolate-nutella, and never before revealed Lindt chocolate bar flavors (caramel sea-salt was my favorite). It was packed with people, all amped up on chocolate and sugar, but just to see so much chocolate in one place was well worth it! Especially with all the samples they had-I even got a Milka cell phone holder, unfortunately it is not edible.

Parlo Italiano

Good news is about 80% of the tourist seem to have finally left town! Occasioanlly you can even walk on the sidewalk near the duomo!
The bad news is that is is cold and gray and all so great fruit is gone from the central market so I don't blame the tourist for leaving.
On another note today I was in my Italian classroom for fifteen minutes after class ended trying to finish my test. Finally the teacher just gave up on me and started telling me the answers. When I finally turned in my test and expressed my lack of language ability, she said it was okay, I was improving and she saw how much trouble I have had and said I was doing fine. So pretty much she thinks I am pathetic and potenitally retarded. Naturally I plan to play up this pity and hope she gives me a pity-passing grade.
To make myself feel better I went to my local veggie man who allows me to practice my Italian on him and managed to tell him exactly what veggies I wanted, what I was doing this weekend and to have a good night. So there Marta! Just because I can't pass a test doesn't mean I can't survive in Italy! Although the veggie-man doesn't really count since he has to tell me what just about every other word is and speaks perfect english but simply refrains so that I can think I am learning Italian.

Fondue! My roommate Amanda is next to me, across from me is my friend from boston Sara Abad, and next to her is Ellen, who also lives in my apartment.

Stowing away on the train! This photo actually needs to be flipped, but yes this is how I traveld for about four hours. Apparently Sara did not mind at all.

Geneva! They even have sail boats....everyone can come visit me there when I move there, which will be soon!

Squirellican gets neutralized!

This weekend I went to Geneva, Switzerland....and I know you guys claim I love every place I visit and want to move there (not true, I would never want to move permanently to Florence) I am moving to Geneva!

To try to summarize, the whole weekend started out as a little bit of a jumble. Despite our very strategic planning and buying of a 5 day eurorail pass, Sara and I showed up at the train station on Friday and were told we could not get on the train to Milan. This was bad. Because A. My two roommates were already in Geneva waiting for us. B. We had to get to Milan, because from Milan we had to catch the train to Geneva. C. If we missed one of both of these trains, we still had to pay for the hostel. The ticket man told us we needed a reservation and the soonest we could get to Milan would be at 3am in the morning. He did say he could get us out at 7pm (still to late to make it to Geneva) but we would have to pay 56 euro.
This simply was not okay, so we decided to check out the situation on the platform on the train, and in theory try to get up the courage to just sneak on. On the train platform we asked the conductor-man if it was possible for us to get on and showed our eurorail passes, pantomiming necessity for needing to get to Milan. The conductor said of course, only standing room though, 18 euro on board. We almost kissed him.
So we got on and sat, along with many other people, in the luggage compartments/hallways in between the cars. Partly by accident, but mostly on purpose since we still were not totally sure what we were doing was legit, when we saw the conductor coming, we simply got up and walked past him to the cafe car, saving ourselves eighteen euro or if we had misunderstood something, somewhere, being kicked off the train. Why the ticket man told us this was impossible I have no idea.

From Milan, which is the craziest most jam-packed train station I have ever seen, we ran to make our Geneva train. We assumed we should of had reservations for this one as well, but we had no time to worry about petty things like that now so we joined some fellow commuters sitting on the floor in the hallway. The thought of spending six hours like this was a little discouraging, but at least we were on the train. The conductor man for this train came out of nowhere and asked for our tickets, we sheepishly handed him our eurorail passes, lacking in a reservation ticket. He smiled and said oh I see, and then charged us 18 euro for a reservation, allowing us to finally breathe easy and go find seats.
When we made it to Geneva it was late at night but the city was gorgeous. Quaint but still had a bigger city feel, surrounding a beautiful lake and gardens everywhere! You can't walk more than ten feet without seeing green space or flowers. Friday night we went to Geneva's only Brew-pub. This brew pub was our first introduction into just how expensive Geneva is. One beer was about seven Swiss frank, which is directly comparable to the dollar. Lunch is at cheapest 10 franks, coffee is 3, to use the public restrooms is 2. We had the sampler beer platter, only 5 franks each, and got to try the seasonal beer they brew, something with cherry that was amazing.  Our hostel was an old convent right next to the cathedral and was very clean and well kept. It was an all girls dorm with about ten bunk beds and a locker for each person.
Saturday we woke up and walked for a few miles along the lake to the United Nations building, which much much much to my dismay was closed since it was the weekend and tourist season was over! I still spent about fifteen minutes looking through the gate and taking pictures of the sign. Next door was the red cross building and museum which was very interesting. Next we walked around Geneva, saw the flower clock, the giant water jet in the middle of the lake, and saw the old town. Geneva is a lovely mix of French and German influence, especially relevant in the architecture, but it also has its own attitude. The people are so nice and everyone seems very open and cultured since it is such an international city. The sidewalks are full of people from every culture and the restaurants and shops are such a assortment. We were so amazed by the large empty sidewalks and the fact that cars stop for pedestrians in the street. Something that never ever happens in Florence.
Saturday night we went to the best fondue in Geneva (as told to us by various locals). It was a charming unpretentious place that filled us up with enough melted cheese and bread to last a lifetime!
Sunday we checked out this department store called mall, who has half a floor just for the chocolate section! They had chocolate tastings everywhere and sold every kind of chocolate item and flavor you can imagine.
We then rented bikes (for free! hard to imagine in a city so expensive) and rode around the lake for two hours.  We then got a train to Dijon, France and used our five hour layover to do a walking tour of the city (they have something that resembles the freedom trail but is marked with an owl). The city had lots of churches and palaces as well as a lovely park we took a nap in. At nine we got on an overnight train back to Florence! That was quite the experience. The cars are tiny and equipped with tiny cots stacked three high. There were already two people sleeping in ours so we could not even read or anything, we just had to get in our little cots and "sleep" for the eleven hour ride back. Every time the train stopped or started I was pretty sure I was about to fall off my bed, but I did end up sleeping more than I expected.
Overall, love Switzerland! Love the chocolate, love the people, love the scenery. Italy seemed so pushy and dirty compared to it, and not having men make creepy comments at me was such a welcome change! Next up is Perugia for the chocolate festival this weekend and to visit a friend...there seems to be a theme in my travels, where there is food to be had, I will go.

Museums

Today my friends of the Uffizi card officially paid for itself! Besides the fact I get right in to all the museums, which would be worth the forty euro right there, I have now been to the Boboli gardens three times, the Academia, and the Uffizi. So considering I have seen the David, Botticelli Venus, and every building-ground-garden-lavatory-church the Medici's ever lived in, I have officially seen and done everything Rick Steve's has told me to do. I would call that an accomplishment.

The Academia is fairly under-whelming. It is in a very non-descript building and is quite small, consisting of mostly gold alter paintings. My theory is they put all this boring stuff in with the David since they knew every one would go there anyways. The David really is spectacular and so large and life like!
The Uffizi is the opposite of the Academia. Located in a giant Medici palace that is literally 500 steps from my front door, it would take a full day to see it all! The Botticelli room is my favorite and I hate the Caravaggio art, but it took us an hour to simply see one floor (out of three). We were going to try to see more, but we stopped caring and figured we can go back any time for free so why push it. The art is great, but what I found even better was the murals on the ceiling and the amazing gold interlaced room which had to be a ball-room. Those Medici's sure knew how to live! To leave the Uffizi one must exit not one but seven gift shops!!!!! Seven!

I keep finding amazing little nooks and gardens and solitude in the Boboli Gardens. If they were located anywhere else it would be nothing special, but I have come to treasure the silence and escape they offer here, something which would be impossible to find otherwise.

My favorite statue is free for anyone to see and set in such a prominent place it is often overlooked. The Rape of the Sabine Women is outside the Uffizi in the Piazza Vecchio. The height and longitude of the bodies makes it an amazing piece of work, plus I have to walk past it about four times a day so it feels familiar.

Being An American Girl

Yesterday I discovered two very interesting tidbits, the kind of knowledge that can only be gained from travel. The first one is that in Italy, a girl can get anything she wants. I am not sure if equality has not yet set in here or if they are just a very forward people, but being a women here not only warrants you dozens of stares and ciao bella's a day, but also special privilege. I had noticed this, but for the first time yesterday used it to my advantage at the Central Market. Sara and I were waiting in a long line for the world famous sandwich stand ( Tripe, cow stomach lining, is the deli meat of choice here) to get roast beef, not tripe for lunch. Since we were in a rush I made eye contact and smiled at the sandwich guy who was helping one of the fifteen people in front of us. Sure enough next thing we know there are our sandwiches....making all the stupid cat calls worth it. This system works everywhere, if a women goes to the same produce stand a few times and flirts with the guy, she will have free tomatoes for life.

Another discovery yesterday was that English girls are obsessed with Americans. We went to a small bar near our house at night and I started talking to a few English kids who were in Florence for a school field trip. All the girls wanted to know was what it was like being American, how were the malls? What was Macy's? Had I ever been to New York or Las Vegas? Why did we call gay people fags? They thought being an American girl was the best thing ever! Which is so weird because doesn't every American girl try to talk with a British accent and try to be a spice girl? I mean these girls used the word 'posh'in a sentence and it sounded natural! I tried to explain to them how fancy being British seemed and how great the accent was, but they wouldn't hear of it. They said moving to America is every high school British girls dream and wanted to know all the brands we wear...all I could think of was Gap and Old Navy...which I am sure is exactly what they wanted to hear. it's funny how other people view my own culture, when all I think of is greasy fat people.

cinque terre

Squirreliken gets Salty!

This weekend squirelican got his fur a little wet at the beach! And not just any beach, but lovely, beautiful, quaint, picturesque Cinque Terre! Sara and Vanessa, two Northeastern friends whom I sail with, came with me to the coast for the weekend. We have all known each other for three years and know we can withstand any sort of traveling together since we have had sailing  trips from hell in the middle of Maine in the during a hail storm, so this was a breeze. Vanessa came up from Perugia and we took the train to Riomaggiore (the first village) Friday evening. We had an amazing hostel with our own private bedroom and a terrace that overlooked the water and the town. Riomaggiore is probably one of the quietest of the five towns which we had no problem with since it appeared that almost everyone we saw on the street was a local and I got to practice some of my Italian.

            The first night we had an amazing sea food dinner with salted bread! Who knew that a simple thing like salted bread would become such a luxury? That night there was a thunderstorm like I have never seen, convincing us that we may or may not be washed away into the sea.  The next morning we were woken up at seven am by the church bells that rang 27 times. Apparently no one in Riomaggiore can sleep past seven a.m. We started our day with chocolate croissants and cappuccino and then hit the trail! We hiked to all five villages (nine kilometers) and took time in each town to explore, get a bite to eat or drink and really take in the windy streets and precariously perched pastel houses.

            It took us all day, with some parts of the hike surprisingly treacherous and steep. We climbed 382 stairs to reach Cornellia and from Vernazza to Montarosa (the fourth and fifth town) the trail became a rock scramble on the side of a cliff, with a 500 foot drop to the sea on one side. We reached the last town tired, dirty and in love with the land. All three of us decided we will retire there and be cranky old women with canes complaining about the espresso and making rude comments at tourist.

            Saturday night we had dinner in Vernazza and sat next to a lovely Indian couple. Talking to them made me A. want to travel to India and B. hate the American educational system. They said that every Indian (middle class or above I assume) speaks about five languages: Hindi, the regional language, English, Spanish, French, and then they also spoke Arabic since he was Muslim. They were so nice and loved asking us questions and answering ours. They told us about being Muslim in India (although I am assuming they were not very strict since they went through a bottle of wine), and loved hearing us talk about being three young girls and traveling, something they had never heard of. We parted ways with them around ten and took the train back to our flat right in time for another massive thunderstorm.

            The next morning we were not woken by the church bells, but instead by a Rooster. The country-timey feel of this did strike me as cute, however the fact that is was only five a.m. greatly detracted from any love I may have felt for the Rooster. We spent Sunday morning being lazy at a rocky beach in Manorala. The water was to rough for us to swim which was a bummer but it felt great to just soak up the sun and enjoy the view. We headed to lunch around two, just in time for more rain. Instead of sticking it out we decided it was time to hop back on the train and head home to Florence.

            Overall the first trip I planned was a total success! I learned how to read the train schedule (no easy feat), get away from the hustle and bustle of Florence, and be with two old friends! Can’t wait until the next trip (Switzerland)!

The Gardens

This morning before leaving for Cinque Terre I decided to put my new Uffizi card to use (for 40 Euro I get unlimited access into all state run museums!). I grabbed my film camera and journeyed across the river to the Boboli Gardens, and all I can say is I will be there every day from now on! The garden is huge! Main paths go from one end to the other but there are also these tiny twisting turning trails that go through hedges and made me feel complelty isolated. Every where I went there was a secret enclave or a hidden trail that seemed to just meander. And about every 15 feet, there is a statue. Not marked and sometimes partially obscured by vines, but it made it seem like someone had erected these just for me, for that one moment I was walking by, and then they would be gone again. This is by far my new favorite place in Florence, it is so peaceful and it would be lovely to bring some bread and cheese and just go read for the afternoon. There are all these birds singing and an amazing fountain with goldfish in it! The fish reminded me of Gilbert and made me homesick for him. I wandered for an hour and probably only saw 15 percent of the place. I came out a random exit and found a really cute local produce stand with all the old Italian ladies buying their veggies for the day. It was such a great way to start my weekend, now off to the beach! Pictures to come soon I promise. My camera won't upload to my computer so it is a real hassle to have to borrow a roomies computer, use a thumb drive and transport them, but on Monday I will share!

Gelato

I can officially leave Florence a happy person. You may be asking did she find a hot Italian? Is she fluent in the language? Did she see the David and realize the passion and need for expression that drove the Renaissance into the history books? The answer to all of the above is no. I can leave Florence now because I have found the best gelato the land has to offer. I have tried many, judged on consistency, variety of flavors, taste of flavors (with after eight mint as my constant), and cost. Gellateria De Carraia is the golden gem of gelato shops. It has a ton of flavors, including the classics and such wonderful surprises as chocolate orange (Ellen's favorite), Mojito, Nutella and Yogurt swirl, and my two favorites after eight mint and creme de caramel. A small is only a euro and it is not small!
While we have a gelato stand directly below us, it manufactures cheap, tourist aimed gelato which they do not even pretend is homemade. De Carraia on the other hand is about a fifteen minute walk across the river and to the right, making it an adventure to new lands (and making me feel like I am burning off some of the calories). Located right next to a giant church and a convent, this is lucky for the nuns since I bet they do not have much free time and need convenience when going on ice cream runs. The church next door is as plain as can be on the outside, lacking a facade and any ornatment except a dome and a cross. But inside it is alive with pastel frescoes which manage to be light and airy yet never tacky or ostentatious. The statues are integrated in the paintings and the dome makes the church seem much larger than it is.
Of course why would one care about an ancient church when there are gelato flavors to be sampled.

Me, Kayla, Sara(from northeastern) and her two roommates Bonnie and Colleen wine tasting!

Me and my neighbor Kayla in Chianti

Weekend Update!

So much has already happened this weekend I can't belive it is only Sunday morning. Friday me and some friends walked across the river and pretty much straight up, there on a giant hill overlooking all of Florence is a church called San Mianato. The church itself is gorgeous, but what was more lovely was the fact that you could see all of Florence and look down on the Duomo and try to find where I live. I am so excited to take my parents up there! It was quite the walk though, and in my Moffitt spirit I was booking it, and turned around to find my friends about three blocks back.....apparently I was the only one wanting to burn off some Gelato. So once we got to the church we walked around it for a little bit and then went inside to hear the Gregorian  monks chant! It was so haunting and even though there were only five of them their voices could fill the entire church. Friday night we drank some wine and our neighbors came over to watch a movie, then we all went to bed early since Saturday was a very early get-up for everyone.
Saturday was an adventure day! Me and four friends went to Chianti through a student travel agency. After the bus ride there through amazing rolling hillsides covered in chateu's (which I am determined to own one day), we arrived in Greve. From there, us and about 20 other american students, each on ditzier and skimpier dressed than the next went for a two hour hike through the vineyards and up to a gorgeous old church. Don't be fooled by the length of time it took us to do the walk...it was barely two miles, but it just took a long time due to constant picture taking and the exterme slowness of the average twenty year old girl.
We ended our walk at this giant old house from around 1500 where the family has been wine makers for 400 years. They told us all about chianti wine and had us try a few different kinds that they make right there in the vineyard. We were served a huge lunch of pasta, lunch meat, brusschetta, and of course multiple glasses of wine. It turns out that in Italian culture lunch is the largest meal of the day, and Gelatto is meant to be eaten inbetween lunch and dinner, not after dinner. Saturday night it was pouring rain, but a group of us decided to go out anyways and stopped at the first bar we saw. This turned out to be a bad choice since it was dead and the bartender hated us! Due to the rain though no one felt like wandering around to find something better so we settled in and had a good time.
Overall the day was really fun and it was great to get outside the city, I can't be in the city-crowdness for to long so I will have to be on the lookout for lots of chances to get outside Florence.

Safety!

So everyday I have about four near-death expierences, and they all come due to walking on the sidewalk, or really anywhere. The sidewalks are about wide enough for a person and a half to walk next to each other, so naturally most people spill over into the streets. This causes problems for multiple reasons-1. The streets are barely large enough for a compact car and I have no idea how they accommodate the delivery trucks that drive them.
2. The vespas go as fast as they can and around whatever they can, including people, cars, stands.
3.Due to the fact the streets are not big enough for delivery trucks or public buses, they use up about half the sidewalk, at least twice a day I have to press my body up against a building in order to avoid being run over. I have been hit by a sideview mirror three times.
4. When taking sharp corners, apparently there is no rule saying you need to stay on the street and not cut the corner.
5. NO ONE STOPS, ever! Not bikes or vespas or cars or trucks. You will be walking along and suddenly a car will come barreling out of a side road and just go right on through. I have seen a few stops signs, but weirdly enough they are in English, which may be why I have never ever seen someone actually stop at them.
6. Apparently it is not gay here to have two men ride on a Vespa.
7. Vespas seem to be the only way people get to work here, around eight in the morning all the businessmen in their suits and helmets are riding their vespas to work.
8. Even though bike riders ride in the road with the cars, I have not seen a single bicyclist wearing a helmet.
Dad would freak if he saw how often I almost get run over. But it is not my fault! And I am now covered by about 4 different types of insurance so I have faith that my vespa wound will be treated well.

What animal is that and how much is a kilogram?

So I am supposed to be channeling my creative artistic spirit into a prose for writing class.....but this blog seems a much better use of my chi.
Yesterday I discovered the Centralie Markete/central market. This was like the best farmers market/fresh cheese/meat/homemade pasta/bakery all combined under one roof. Best of all the food is all fresh and so cheap! I got some lettuce, a cucumber (I thought it was a zucchini), four potatoes, and two onions for one euro and twenty cents! Of course since I still can only speak six words of Italian I just handed the guy a five and was shocked at how much change he gave me back! The only downside of this market is that since every thing is fresh and fridges here are pretty shotty, you can't buy too much at once. Also no one speaks any English! So I either point to what I want and smile or just hand them money and show numbers on my fingers.
A few food observations-
1. Bread here is not salted! So it pretty much just tastes like carbs, you have to put olive oil on it or something salty (hence the popularity of prosciutto).
2.They don't sell anything that is not in season, so no fruit or veggies unless they are readily available.
3.Berries aren't big here, maybe due to the season thing, but they only come in really small packages and are really expensive.
4.Zucchini is tiny! About the size of my thumb, and so far I have only seen yellow peppers
5. Packaged meat at the super market is so expensive! It is cheaper at the butcher shops/central market but I am not yet confident enough that I am ordering the right cut of meat, how much of it, and even what kind of meat it is!
Right around the corner from my apartment is a wine store and small grocery store. Yesterday I frequented these places and made new friends! The wine store man is a very distinguished Italian man who asks me how much I want to pay, then gives me a nice bottle for that much. I think if I go here frequently enough we can really become buddies.
The grocery store, which doesn't have much, nothing refrigerated but some good veggie basics, I went to twice yesterday. The men remembered me and we had a half in Italian, half in English conversation about mi casa, where it was, and that I was cooking, he seemed very impressed an American girl was cooking. He tried to teach me so Italian, I taught him some English, and he gave me a free garlic clove. Now that is good international relations.

First day of school! Or should I say nomera uno lezione.

     Living in historic downtown Florence and having to walk past the Duomo everyday to get pretty much anywhere, I realize I am in tourist central. However I have decided that so far I have heard more English and seen more seemingly Americans than I have Italians. I had never thought about this when I decided to study in a tourist city, but having the local industry be appealing to Americans seems to hamper the opportunity to be fully immersed in the culture. I have stumbled upon some of the cutest restaurants in random alleys, yet upon closer inspection I see the menu is printed in both Italian and English. In my mind this takes away from the experience, how can I claim I found a wonderful “authentic” Italian place when they obviously are appealing to a tourist clientele? Today at the supermarket, hoping to practice out my new speaking skills, I asked how much in Italian. The cashier looked at me, and in perfect English told me how much I owed and asked if I would like a bag. I nodded and said Grazie, since I had already exhausted all the Italian I knew.

     As for school, since that was the reason I started this post, it is so different than any class I have ever been to or heard about. Since this is an art school, something I did not fully realize until arriving, everything is structured in order to not hinder the “creative process”. What the hell is that? Just give me a damn syllabus and let me know what is due, how it should be done and when. My creative writing teacher today went on and on about how we have assignments, but he understand if we don’t due them if we feel we have a task going that is a better use of our creative time. Ummm, so do I not have to do the homework or do I? When it comes to school, just straight up tell me. I don’t want to have to guess on what my photography teacher means when he says we have an introspective landscape project. Is that a photo of hills? Am I supposed to express myself through the hills?

     The professors are also a lot more casual and open than my professor back home. This also may have to do with the art aspect of it, but when a teacher says that they are “jonesing for a cigarette so everyone have a ten minute break” it kind of takes you aback. But all three so far have seemed extremely passionate about what they teach and the students in their class. My largest class is eight people so it is a very intimate experience. I have met one other journalism major, which makes me happy since I was getting a little tired of hearing everyone discuss the pro’s and cons of oil pants verse watercolors and what not.

     Oh and one last thing, artist are very good and original dressers. My two pairs of jeans, smart walking shoes and black tees are not fitting in at all!

    So even though I have only been here for four days I already feel that there is to much write. Things have been a mix of overwhelming, amazing, stressful, and gorgeous. To start with the amazing-Well I am in Florence for three months, kind of enough said, but I will be residing in a lovely apartment about a block from the Arno that backs up against the Uffizi museum. The apartment is big enough, but there seems to be a lot of wasted space (for badits (SP) and a glassed in spiral staircase) and the furniture is old and creaky. Our terrace overlooks the river and provides a perfect space for alfresco dining and be outdoorsy in a 'drinking wine outside' sort of way.
     The overwhelming includes the fact that I don't understand the language, the school seemed to throw a lot at us that needed to get done and not a lot of direction on how to do it and probably most of all, the whole new group of people aspect. It seems almost comical because I swear I have been through this exact thing freshman year. The whole group mentality, no one really seems to say what they think or really be themselves, everyone just travels with the pack despite the fact that a pack is the worst way to get to know someone. And naturally with my sense of humor, people just tend to look at me and are either thinking I am totally psycho or an ass clown. My roommate, Amanda, doesn't seem to be used to someone just saying the first thing that comes to their mind....silly east coasters. Luckily I have my cool roommates and our neighbors are also Saci kids so we have all been hanging out. Having Sara Abad here from my school provides a nice security blanket, though we haven't seen much of each other while we both try to get to know our roommates and make friends.
     I have walked around Florence a bunch already but mostly in the old town/city center and have not had the chance to actually go into much yet. I have had time to start sampling the Gelato, and we even made a trip to the supposedly "Florence's best Gelato", total disappointment. Orientation is finished and classes start tomorrow. Today we crossed the Arno and in true Moffitt spirit rejected the ten euro fee for the Boboli Gardens and went to a slight downtrodden but decent park nearby to read for a bit and try to get away from the city. Being right downtown and with these windy narrow streets I am already starting to feel a little suffocated and overwhelmed by people and the city and constant tourist and vespas.
Pictures to come soon of the place and some sites near me!
 

First Blog!

So this is officially my first blog posting and I am hoping it is not nearly as narcissistic as blogging appears.  I plan on doing this for the rest of my life while living in my parents basement so I figured why not get a portfolio/resume started. The reason for this blog, I have landed in Italy.  For the next three months I will be living in Florence, attending an art school (yet managing to take no actual art classes) and figuring out such international questions like is any restaurant that has a menu translated into English a total tourist trap? And does fruit flavored gelato actually count as my daily food pyramid requirement? And when sharing an apartment with three strangers and you forget a towel, is it considered rude to drip dry on the terrace while they eat breakfast?