nerd blog post #46
After so many days away from my miniature computer, the keys feel awfully small.. And so, I'm back. This is the longest I have gone without posting, so I hope you're not all in too much withdrawal. My apologies.
Italy was a whirlwind adventure of epic proportions. I'm not sure how I'll be able to recount it all, but here goes.. Ahem.
I took off from the land of the clowns at 330am on Thursday morning. Caught one of two night buses and arrived in central Paris around 430am. You can imagine that not all night bus riders are nice, sober young ladies on their way to Italy.. It was interesting. Feeling slightly nervous with my fellow night riders, I did the old trick of stuffing my passport, credit cards and cash down my pants.. Then I saw Cynthia, who was coming from a different direction, but catching the same second bus. We were happy to continue the night bus adventure together.. Arriving at the shuttle bus location at 5am, we waited in the cold until boarding at 530, and arriving at the airport just after 630. We were both exhausted, having barely slept the night before.. From this point on, we slept on every moving vehicle we boarded.
The flight was one and a half hours, and after that quick snooze, we found the bus that was to take us to downtown Milan. From there, we had to take the metro and then a tram to Dario's. We had no map, but I had mapquested it so had a vague idea of the direction we were to head. Stepping out of the metro and into the main square of Milan, we were surrounded by thousands of student protesters who were carrying banners and shouting and marching around. Behind them was the Duomo, a very famous cathedral, and other buildings with beautiful architecture. It was a shocking way to enter Milan. We did not know what the protest was about, but the feeling of youth and life in the midst of this new country was kind of cool. Because of the protest, trams were not running, which meant we were kind of stranded and very confused. We walked down to Dario's, stopping to ask for directions.
"Mi scusi. Dove Via Pavia?" (Excuse me. Where Pavia St?)
*blank stare
"ViA PaviA?"
*nope
"VIa PAviA?"
...
...
"OOOHHHH!!! VIIAAAA PAAAVIAAAA!!"
"Si."
I love how Italians sing their words. Once I got the hang of that, communication became much easier. Also, as a gesturer myself, I appreciated all of the gesturing these people do. Turning left, right, going over bridges or through tunnels is explained clear as day with grand hand gestures. Mille grazie.
side note:
I realize that my observations on Italians and Italian culture is based on a very short visit. These are, oh critical readers, merely observations that I make based on this limited experience.
Dario lives in a very nice two bedroom apartment in Milan's entertainment district. It's just shy of a half hour walk to the main square. It seemed like a lively, young, and safe neighbourhood, and I was grateful to be so close to everything. Dario himself was happy to host us, and very enthusiastic about couch surfing. He is quite a bit older, and works a lot (from home), so we didn't spend too much time with him, which was fine with us.
Cynthia and I were tired. Very tired. I had to convince her not to take a nap right away. Despite this, I came out of a two second visit to the washroom and she was snoozing on the couch. It took all of our energy to get up and get out. We walked back up to the main square, encountering some beautiful sights along the way.
Milan is Italy's largest city in population, though not very big geographically. The transit system is old and .. not that good. The architecture is beautiful, though graffiti is everywhere. The graffiti was very striking for me, partly because there was so much, and partly because it stands out amongst the old buildings and ruins. Though so populous, Milan is not a very touristy city, which was nice.
Downtown, we went into the Duomo, which is the most beautiful cathedral I have ever seen. Unlike the churches I had visited in Paris, the Duomo was less commercial and more respectful. Rules about silence and photography were strictly adhered to. It was enormous, but simple. Huge paintings hung from the ceilings and the colours were dark. It somehow felt older and wiser, and I liked it very much.
Then we went to the fashion district. Milan is considered the fashion capital of the world. As you all know, fashion is my number one passion. The prices at such stores as Luis Vuitton and Prada are a little higher than my favourite designer, Value Village, but when in Rome... I bought sixteen purses and two hundred pairs of shoes.
After walking around for a couple of hours, we headed back to Dario's, stopping by a grocery store to buy food for the next couple of days. Dario cooked us a delicious dinner of two different kinds of pasta. Just as they are stereotyped to do, Dario filled our plates again and again, despite how full we were. They like to feed. We learned a lot about Milan and about his home city in the South. We tried some Italian specialties, like spicy, soft salami, and a lemon liqueur. After the feast (which went until 11pm), and utterly exhausted, Cynthia and I slowly made our way to bed.
We awoke at the crack of dawn, not well rested, and made our way to the train station to go to Venice. We had decided that we would sleep the entire three hour train ride, but nothing we thought would happen, did. The adventure begins.
Two people sat across from us in the four seater of the train. They heard us speak English and were delighted. They are friends from a university in Arkansas. One is from Chile and is doing a Master's just outside Milan. The other is from Louisiana but spent his life in Latin America with his missionary family. We chatted until they got off at Vicenza, to visit Louisiana's cousin. We exchanged information as they were likely going to Venice later that day.
As soon as they left the train, Cynthia and I (who did not want to share our calculatedly rationed lunch) ate and then slept the rest of the way. In Venice, we bought a ticket for the metro. And by metro, I mean BOATRO! Yes, we were in Venice. We took the boatro down the grand canal, the long way, to the Piazza San Marco, the main square. The boat ride was amazing - I love boats. I stood at the front of the boat almost the whole time, and listened to an old Italian man tell me the history of the city. I understood him pretty well. Hand gestures help. And knowing French made it easier as well. He told me that Venice was flooded, and I could see that. The water was at a very high level, and it was raining..
The first thing we visited was the Basilica San Marco. We had to walk on platforms to get in because the whole front entrance was flooded. Inside the church, the feeling was similar to that of the Duomo, and I decided that I preferred these two churches to the two I'd seen in Paris.
We then walked down the back streets of Venice, over small bridges, on cobblestone streets.. It was unlike anything I have ever seen. Rich people took gondola rides where the drivers steer with long sticks. I watched that and took photos.
I wasn't at all disappointed that it was dreary. It fact, it added a beauty to the city. Colourful umbrellas contrasted with the grey of the day, and sometimes rain is romantic. Venice is said to be the most romantic city in the world. I think Paris is more romantic, but I know it better and speak the language. But Venice is a city I would most definitely return to. It was probably the prettiest city I have visited. I was very snap happy, and will post pictures tomorrow.
Around 3pm, we heard from our train friends and met up with them. We spent a few hours wandering around with them, and then settled at a cafe for some red wine. They invited us to go to Vicenza with them, and so we did. There, they went to do some family stuff with the cousin, and Cynthia and I went for dinner. We ordered pizza for five euros, which we thought would be a slice. Instead, out came two XXL pizzas of unbloggable deliciousness! We were in heaven.
Later, we met our friends and their friends, and went to a club. I had almost forgotten it was Halloween! There were some costumes there, and we danced and had a nice time. Vicenza has a large US military base (where Louisiana's cousin works) and so the place was a mixture of Italians and US soldiers.. It was a strange thing for me, as that's not a world I've been exposed to. I found it very sad. These young men were in a country where they don't speak the language, and most had just returned from war. I wanted to buy them all plane tickets to go and visit their moms. They just looked so tired and old, and they were all so young.
The next morning, we discovered Vicenza, which is a lovely Italian city, and the capital of its province. We saw a market and some old buildings. At noon, we headed back to Milan. We said goodbye to our new friends and Cynthia and I continued to discover Milan. We saw the theatre and wandered around a lot. To save money, we waited to eat until we got back to Dario's. It was 5pm, and we were starving. Really starving. We made delicious sammys on focaccia bread with Italian cheese.
Now, 630pm, we were more tired than ever. We had to catch a night bus (our fave) at 3am in order to get the shuttle bus at 4am, and our flight at 630am. Dario wanted to take us to see the entertainment district, so we napped until 1030pm, and then got up and packed and showered. With Dario, we headed out, saw some sights and a river, and ended up at a club right next to where we were to take the night bus. This place was very cool. Live music was being played (well) on the first floor, and there was dancing upstairs. We tried an Italian cocktail and mostly listened to the live music. At 230, we left to go and wait for our bus.
The bus was kind of like a taxi, but free. You tell the driver where you want to go, and he takes you. The issue is that everyone does that, so what should have been a fifteen minute drive, ended up being close to an hour. Still, it was a great option. We got the shuttle bus at 4, arrived to the airport at 5, and got on our plane at 630.
France vs. Italy:
1. Italians are incredibly warm and friendly. In all of the three cities, we met only nice people. We spoke Italian a lot, but their English is very good. They seem more fluent than the French.
2. The food is delicious, but I prefer French food.
3. There was something about the mood that felt tired. I don't know how to explain it any other way. The pace is slow, but seemed not of a relaxed nature, as I experience in Rennes, but of a worn out one. This gave the cities a particular beauty.
4. Unlike the French, the "look" of the Italians is more distinct. While people often think I'm French (until I open my mouth..), I stood out as different amongst the Italians. Which was interesting.
5. Things are cheaper in Italy. Except in the fashion district. Wowsers.
6. I think Italian would be easy to learn. Easier than French. No maps? No problem! I got around fine with my limited Italian and unlimited shamelessness.
Stepping off of the plane in Paris, I had a feeling I didn't think I ever would. I felt as if I was home. I was relieved to be back in a land where I'm always understood and where I know how to get around. It was nice. I also realized that the homesickness I had felt the week before had lifted. I think missing Canada will come in waves.
We took the shuttle bus to a metro stop on the Western part of town, where RtC met us with a smile and snacks. We all went to his place and ate breakie. Then we headed to the Musee d'Orsay, which is free the first Sunday of every month. The line was too big, and we did not feel like waiting. So we walked around, and then Cynthia met up with her Parisian bf, Romain. RtC and I went for a cafe, and strolled around the Latin quarter.
Though Italy was a lot of fun, I was happy to back in Paris. I had been there so long that Rennes seemed a hundred years ago, and Paris was just as much home. But this morning, I got on a train at 630am, returned to Rennes, and went straight from the station to my classroom, where I taught two hours this morning. This afternoon I'd like to nap and then I teach again at 5pm. I am tired, but happy. It was a wonderful vacay.
I hope you are all well.
All my love,
Hincks.
That's right, young bachelors. My heart is warm.
The Canada stand!! Where the maple syrup is only $15 for the smallest one! And where you can buy the ever-popular caribou spread! This stand was exciting for me, as there are only twenty-five stalls or so.. And there was no US or England stand. So I was very proud. I stood by it for a long time, in case anyone wanted to ask a Canadienne any questions. ...No one did.
