Some days i need inspiration to start writing, either the task seems to daunting, or a vicious cold that's been going around the group finally catches up with you. Turns out I've got both!
Conveniently I just had a huge plate of inspiration on my way to get groceries for my last week in Rome. Across the street from my house is a little fruit shop I think Ive talked about before. But I may have failed to add a few details. Two guys work there that I think are around 25 yrs. Old. The tall dark and handsome one is from Egypt and sure looks the part of an Egyptian prince if you ask me. Every time I come to get fruit he helps me get a bag then smiles and waves me inside. When he rings me up he always always rounds my bill down. For instance today when I bought four peaches two lemons, three tomatoes, three bananas and two nectarines he kindly whittled down my price to three euros…basically free. With what little English he possesses he says “how are you?” and I say, “im great and you?” “good grazie” and gives a dashing ‘Im not positive if I said that right’ smile. Needless to say I have a slight crush on the fruit man. The other is a shorter more Italian looking guy who whistles every time we enter the store. He on the other hand is more forward and if I just want one nectarine for breakfast he goes in the back, washes it off for me, and gives it over for free and waves me out the door without any payment. Ahhh, its good to be a blonde hair, blue eyed American girl in that store! So today the Egyptian prince once again helped me through my purchase and tried to make small talk and I was all nervous because I can never understand him ahahhaha it was marvelous. One time when I was leaving the store a little old lady stopped us and said “that boy wants to ask you to a party!” and I said “…uhhhh our courses take up too much time im sorry!” ahahahah we all have gotten very good at making up excuses for why we can’t go to parties and on dates, Italians are just so welcoming and unusually attracted to girls they can barely understand…
Anyway, that was long, but you needed to know about my inspiration for this post! So once again another week has passed in a blur of bright colors and dreamlike places so here come the stories.
Lets start with Monday. We started the day with a trip to the train station, a place I swear I live most of the time here. We got our tickets to Naples for the next day then went on an excursion to the beloved fruit shop to get some fruit for the day. The main event of the day was our tour of the Vatican. Honestly not one of the most amazing things Ive seen, but I think a lot of that has to do with the untruthfulness of it. If I ignore how dark and weird it all was I would have to say it was beautiful. Everything was adorned with the best of the best. Some of my favorite things were the giant pinecone out in the courtyard, only because…who else has a giant bronze pinecone in their back yard? Of course the Rafael rooms were fantastic. His work was so gorgeous and colorful and the faces of his characters each represented a certain philosopher or contemporary of his. He even portrayed his rival Michelangelo (who he claimed was a genius after seeing his work in the Sistine chapel and he was embarrassed that he’d even tried to compete with him) as one of the young philosophers in the huge painting of the School of the Romans..or philosophers..whichever you prefer..or is right. I cant remember. Either way just being in those rooms made me feel like I could easily paint my own ceiling with portraits of my family and friends and pass them off for pagan gods and goddesses. Every little piece of wall and ceiling was covered in bold stories and scenes about life in a much different time than ours, I felt like I really should just go back in time to when studying painting and music and philosophy was welcomed and appreciated, ah the past, dreamy.
Next we moved through the tapestry room filled with huge rugs of biblical stories as well as papl comings into power. One of the most shocking was of Christ coming out of the tomb and all the roman guards falling to the ground in terror and Christs hands and feet torn up, but the look on his face one of triumph and promise. It was really wonderful to see the scene displayed on such a huge scale and to think that the designer sewed every stitch into that one work of art was mind boggling. Painting is one miraculous art, but to do it with a needle and thread and that many colors and level of intricacy? Wild. The Sistine chapel was next. I know this may be sad, but the place was anticlimactic. Don’t get me wrong, the paintings on the ceiling and walls were the most beautiful works Ive ever seen, but its hard when you’re crammed in such a small space with about 400 other people, no exaggeration, and everyone is staring at the ceiling taking pictures, though we all were warned against it, and battling to be heard by ones neighbor though signs clearly state silence is required. It was chaos. But the painting were so epic and beautiful you could just feel for Michelangelo and the time and effort he put into his work at such a young age of 26. Oddly enough he didn’t actually lie on his back and paint endlessly into the night. He actually just stood on scaffolding at a normal reach to paint his masterpiece. The scene of Adam and God in the middle of the ceiling is something Ive never thought to much about other than it looks so real, but here in the chapel itself it is obvious that the paint has been cleaned and brushed so that it almost blends in with the rest of the scenes and you have to strain your neck and eyes to get a good look at it. If you block out the world around you, you can start to see the work at its best. Each individual scene is painstakingly perfect, the muscles and lines of the body stressed over and popping out of the wall. The angelic hosts that surround the walls are almost lifelike and altogether lovely. Unfortunately we only stayed for ten minutes due to the lack of oxygen in the air…400 people tend to do that to you.
We found a secret passageway that ended up being a shortcut to st.peters basilica and that is a place that caught me way off guard. The second I entered the enormous structure whose walls are gilded in gold and white I inhaled sharply and took a step back. The place is a masterpiece to behold. I really can’’t even explain it other than it is beautiful in every way. It is spacious and open and the long corridor is lined with smaller chapels that hold beautiful sculptures of saints and the Virgin Mary. The small chapels used to be used as entertainment theaters that performers took over to entertain the worshipers waiting in the line to the front of the chapel, but none of that remains to be seen. Now there is just gold, lots and lots of gold. The walls and ceilings are crafted to pop out at you and curl around your senses so that your neck finally has to scream at you to look down before your head falls off of it from all the staring. The huge altar in the front of the chapel is held by four swirling pillars that look almost alien in the classical church, but they posses a gorgeous force all their own, being some kind of dark wood that stands out against all the gold and white décor. Oh goshers really its just beautiful and huge and that is that.
While waiting for my roommates I hung out with good ol’ heston and we talked about the state of my apartment and the interesting dynamic that ensues there. He laughed when I told him that the oldest of us was not myself, turns out I act a lot older than my 23 year old roommate…that just gives a glimpse into the obnoxiousness of these girls sometimes. Wow its hard to live in a house full of girls! But as consolation I got to spend the afternoon with the boys at their place. They, thankfully, all get along and share food and space in decency with one another. They took care of me and chatted for a while then took me to the metro station and rode home with me to make sure I was safe, ah I love being friends with boys, so much easier. Later that night when I led a supremely late group of girls from my apartment to our dinner reservation with the whole group I was thankful that at least I’d had that hour of solace with civilized returned missionaries to get me through the day.
Speaking of the dinner it was a great success. Our professors arranged for a restaurant to hold all 45 of us and feed the huge group too! The night was filled with hilarity and the loud laughter of American teenagers and young adults filling this little restaurant. We then went to one of the most famous gelato places in Rome called Giolitti. The gelato was good, but I unusually didn’t get what id asked for and ended up with an interesting combination. Oh well still delish! Those poor gelato men were scooping and plopping any type of gelato they could find and chucking cones into our greedy American hands while trying to understand our broken Italian flavor orders. Studs.
The next day we woke up early to get on the train to Naples and buy tickets for Brihndisi (the town with the ferry to Greece) we waited in line at the station for 20 min. and met the nicest English guy on a small trip abroad by himself. Though we could hardly understand his thick British accent, he was patient with us and asked about our program and told of his travels around Europe and how travelling alone really did have its advantages (though he thought out loud that he wouldn’t suggest it to girls) His cowboy hat and ruined fake brazillian flip flops really added to the “hungry handsome world traveler” look and it was really exciting to talk to someone who spoke English for a while and was attractive to boot.
Finally, after sitting on the floor of the station for a good 45 min (our group was a little over zealous after the last train fiasco to Florence) we boarded the creaky train to naples. Getting out at naples we realized that we definitely were not in the beautiful northern half of Italy any more. We walked out of the station and I felt like I was actually in downtown LA or perhaps Miami, either of them being terrifying and mostly blacks. We hopped on a bus and one of our professors loudly announced “This man just told me to watch out, there is a pick pocket on this bus!” thank you Holtzopfel, you are freaking hysterical. So we all covered our bags with our hands, but unfortunately, Dr. Hatch’s son did lose his watch before we even got to the hotel. Talk about a crazy place. I felt unsafe every minute we were there, not counting the night we spent in the Marriott. Can I just tell you that I love Marriott hotels? I do, I do so much that Id like to live in one some day. This place was great. Clean sheets, clean bathroom and warm shower with an overhead spout. Shampoo and conditioner and lotion and body wash and white fluffy towels and comfy beds and two pillows and last but not least…an Italian Book of mormon. Ha!
Interruption- two tragedies just occurred. 1. Just did my laundry and put in my scarf….i now have a lovely navy blue shirt and one less white shirt and my green pants have a slight blue tinge to them…sweet! Its like getting new clothes! 2. The grocery store did not have tresor…my favorite noccicola cereal sad day! No hazelnut chocolate filled pouches of joy for me.
Back to Naples. The place was terrifying. But then we made our way to Pompeii in a tiny stuffy HOTT train, all of us a bit crabby from the disarry of naples and the far awayness of everything. Then we got to Pompeii and the day instantly changed. Holy wow. We got off the train and there it was, the most perfectly preserved ancient city of all time. The buildings still stood at almost the original heights and the small streets were navigable and quaint. It was as if the whole town had just gone on vacation and we, as tourists, had come to town only to find that the friend we were visiting had left as well. Ancient Billboards in red paint, advertising some ancient amenity, still clung to the sides of walls and open doors let us peek at rows of toilets still waiting for the next occupant. The houses still opened up to a wide front room where a large stone pool laid beneath an open window in the ceiling so that water could collect for decoration. The walls were painted the most vibrant shades of red, yellow and green with tiny murals in the corners and strewn across canvases. One door step had a mosaic of a vicious looking dog, one we could only g uess meant “beware of dog!” other houses held more intricate mosaics on the floor or around columns that held up the house. We sat in the houses or outside of other buildings only imagining what might have happened there. We supposed that we stumbled across some stables where exotic animals and possibly petting zoos were included. Maybe we saw a grand estate or two and the local gymnasium where good jewish boys knew not to go because of the level of nudity allowed. Sounds like my kind of place! There were big open areas as well. Places where parties and balls and great gatherings of the neighborhood might have taken place. And of course the huge ampitheater where people sat on stone benches cheering on their favorite gladiator and watching the trap door where any minute a lion might escape and decide the fate of his prey. Flowers covered every nook of every road and big pink petals were strewn across the dirt pathways here and there. In the streets the stone was risen like it was awaiting a flood. Unfortunately it was for a much more vile purpose than mere rain insurance, it served as a kind of outdoor plumbing where excess was poured but the stones provided a realatively clean way to get around still. Sick. At least they were handy. As we walked throught the local park of the time we found a little round tomb looking building and hopped inside. It was dark but cooler and a little on the creepy cave side. As we started to exit I swear I heard a moan from the other end of the cave where light couldn’t reach and we all sprinted out in a fit of shivers. Hastily we moved along. We spent a good 3 hours at least in that place, maybe 4 , I lost track of time as it seemed it didn’t even exist in that place. The story goes that Pompeii, being quite the hub of all evil, was warned about an explosion from mt. Vesuvius so most of the people fled the city with their families and valued possessions. Unfortunately time was short and the left most of their lives at a standstill to flee the disaster. Some people were not quick enough and as the lava flowed, the dock to get out of the city was filled with people rushing to the boats. When Pompeii was discovered by modern archeologists they found several bodies in action positions frozen in the black ash tomb on that same dock. Contrary to popular belief the city was not the forgotten city. It actually was widely known that the city had been covered and lay waiting under the black ash from the time of the flow, so looters and old families returned soon after and took most of the “good stuff” from the site. Still it is considered the best idea of what ancient roman life was like at the time of its glory, and I can see why. Its completely open and preserved and if it were not for the random college archeological groups still excavating parts of the city I would assume that people still lived there. It was just beautiful and a little eerie walking down those streets. I loved every second of it.
That night we went back to naples and decided to venture out into the craziness to find food. We ended up going down some sketchy road where men and women on motorcycles and children on four wheelers roamed free and wild and dangerous at all hours. We hid behind each corner, poking our heads out to check for clearance before sprinting to the next road in fear of our lives until we found the perfect place. A little pizza place where the owner definitely did not speak English, but we all got a huge pizza each for 2,50 E. so we were severely happy. We brought our spoils back to the heaven of a hotel and searched out a place to eat it. A kind man on the tenth floor gestured to us and said in broken English “you can eat your pizza out here!” and led us to a little door that opened out onto the roof of the hotel complete with tables and chairs and the most stunning view of the city of naples and surrounding cities. It was breathtaking in the darkness, all the city lights twinkling on the water and the big ships coming and going through the harbor. Behind the hotel it looked more like the slums of brazil, all the houses piled on top of eachother with random materials floating from balconies drying in the stifling heat. Even the night was a little warm, but the breeze from the coast made it comfortable. We sat in awe on that balcony and ate our huge pizzas with massive smiles on our faces for a day well worth it all. The night air filled with our joyful laughter at having a good cheap meal, a warm shower to look forward too, and a night where worrying about safety was the last thing on our mind. Oh how I love beautiful hotels!!
The next day was another story all together.
It started out great! We visited the Pompeii museum and saw all the artifacts they found in the ruins and the world of Pompeii really came to life for me. The museum itself was a wonder to behold, the grand staircases and huge open ballroom made me feel like a princess at a ball and of course, I couldn’t resist dancing through the hall because it was so magical. That brought on teasing from mark, but otherwise worth it. There were tons of thigns to see. Ancient glass that had the most beautiful colors and patterns and masks from the theater with mouths that opened in such a way that the sound from the actors was amplified. There were statues, of course, and heads of another thousand people, but mostly there was just MORE! More of everything and more complete pieces of everything so that it really felt real. My favorite part was the exhibit of mosaics taken from the city. Oh goodness if only I were that visionary. The colors and patterns were more exquisite than any painting ive ever seen. The time taken to place every tiny piece of colored stone in the exact spot where the tired eyes of a tiger or the scale of a fish or the intensity on Alexander the greats face would most be effective was astounding. And the frescos were beautiful too! Though not as shocking they still were so amazing because they were so well preserved, huge pieces of wall and floor were just taken from their places in the city and set up in the museum. It made me a little sad that I couldn’t see them in their natural habitat, but it was still neat to see them at all. The frescos were varied in subject matter, but I especially liked the pagan gods and goddesses and the love stories portrayed in them. One of my favorite things in the museum was a statue of two boys running that was life size. But the difference between this statue and all the others ive seen is that it looked alive. The white and blue paint in the eyes hadn’t worn away, or had been repainted by some artist, and the eyes looked intensely into the distant mark they were aiming for. The arms pumped the air trying to make way for the poised and tensed legs to fly through, each boy trying to out run the other. I got in close to the face of the winner and swore that one arm almost reached out to push me out of his way. I looked around me in surprise and found that I was the only one in the room. A little freaked I jumped into the next room with my little group and away from the boys game. The museum was amazing.
That afternoon a group of about 16 of us ventured out of our little haven at the hotel into the wild that is naples and back to the train station to catch the train to a place called Sorrento. We all got separated on the train, and our main navigator (matt, the only boy of course) ended up on a different par tof the train. Turns out that he and only the four girls with him got off at the right stop and the rest of us had to hop off and wait in the deathly heat for 30 min. to catch the train back to the right station. Grand. To make matters worse, I was with a few girls that I might have liked to have knocked over with one of the pieces of pottery in the museum. Lovely. Finally we got off at the right station and headed towards our hostel. And hour later, three walks up the same hill, two down the wrong trail, and one up some random secret garden like path later, we found the little youth hostel. I really do feel bad for the guys working at the shop down the road that we passed a good four times. They stared at us like we were idiots, or perhaps some group of blonde surveyors searching for a crack in the road..nope we were lost, superbly duperly lost. But we arrived eventually after we got directions from the other group (the second set, as the first were from lizzie who Im guessing looked at the road the whole way there…)Now ive never been an advocate for hostels, but this really was not that bad! The bright green and yellow paint on the wall was still bright and the owner was really quite nice and welcoming. Of course there was Ron, the old man who had been there for six weeks “and Ill be here for another six weeks!” He told us about each of the other guests at the hostel and all about the breakfast and owner and everything else we could possibly want to know about our night stay. Up in our room we realized that we shared a bathroom with two girls from some south American country, a couple from Europe and a friendly trail of ants. Our room slept 6 and we thankfully were given newly cleaned sheets to cover the nasty mattresses and pillows. Hallelujah. That evening we went on an excursion to the town of Sorrento to find that the actual city was super cute and quaint and charming in every sense of the word. The town, famous for their lemons, is right on the coast of the Mediterranean..or is it the agean…. Anyway, on the coast. We walked down lemon road and sampled lemon candies of all sorts and soaps and perfumes all made with the infamous lemons. We also saw the worlds hugest lemons in the world and I was tempted to buy one just to say that I did. We ate dinner at a little restaurant and by that time everyone was getting a little on the nerves of everyone else. Sooo we went back to the hostel, our spirits tired, but in marginally better moods than the first time we trudged up the five hills. A few of us found a little garden in the back of the hostel and sat out in the twilit lemon grove complete with grape vines for a ceiling. Random bits of playground equipment and blown over umbrells set the scene while a supremely loud cow mooed his way asleep. The night ensued into one big slumber party. We played cards down in the lobby while other couples wrote in journals and perused the free internet. The owner sat silently in awe I think that we all were there, not drinking or smoking, but still relatively happy and polite. Unfortunatley we were loud…no myself…but a few. Me and marie left the raucus to play speed in her room and we became so delusional that we giggled until our sides hurt and her roommates started wondering why they hadn’t seen such outrageous sides of us before. Marvy. I went to my bed and laid waiting for sleep in the sketchy night…for four hours…just laying there all my pent up anxiety making me useless at sleep. At three a.m my friend kelsy sat up straight in bed, only to find me in the same position and checked her watch. “what time is it?” I enquired. “ugh, 3” she sighed and we both chuckled and lay back down to endure another 4 hours before we could wake up. I finally did fall asleep thank heavens. That morning we got an awesome breakfast from the owner. He set out little baskets full of croissants and nutella, jam and toast and snack bars, orange juice, and even coffee if we’d have drunk it. Love that man!
Oh crap I forgot something- breakfast at the mariott…the first real breakfast id had in weeks and the most variety id seen in weeks. Ugh marvelousss. It was up on the roof again so as we sat for a straight hour enjoying pastries, scrambled eggs, fruits and any other breakfast treat we could lay our hands on, we watched cruise ships port and leave the harbor. Pretty much the happiest hour of my life. I was clean, well fed and well rested, lovely.
Back to hostel land. So we left the hostel (after I precariously showered but refused to wash my hair for fear of being in the sketch shower for more than two minutes.) and made our way back to the train station to seek out a beach to hang out on for the day. With no hope we decided to take good ol’ Rick steves advice and go to meta where apparently we would find a good beach on the amalfi coast. We took the bus all crossing our fingers that he’d suggested a good spot. The normal sized bus squeezed its way through the winding streets of Sorrento and san angelo almost squashing people, cars, road signs, and buildings on several occasions. Finally we stopped right on a cliff that looked down over the ocean. Success, the most wonderful sight to behold. A beach! A big black sandy beach! We raced down the steep steps towards the building where we paid a mere 2.50 to spend the day under four big red umbrellas lounging in the hot sun and spending most of the day in the warm blue water inhaling salt water when we smiled to big under water. It was heaven on earth no lie. I put down my bag stripped off my sweat soaked sundress and sprinted into the water diving headfirst as soon as it got deep enough. The water cooled down every hot part of me and I was as happy as the little half naked kids running along the beach while their friends tossed soccer balls at their heads and their moms yelled Italian warnings to them in sing song voices. The beach you see was not a nudist beach happily, but apparently that rule does not apply to children under 12 years old because I saw plenty of boys and girls in only swim bottoms and speedos and they were perfectly happy in all the naked glory. I envied them. Italians are so not worried about body image is relieving! The most wrinkly fat old mad was wearing a speedo and the hugest lady had on a skimpy bikini and they laid there in all their glory happy as clams. No one judged them and no one was judged. If only the U.s was like that we wouldn’t all have eating disorders and constantly be on diets to assure a svelt figure and no jeering comments. Sucks to be us.
We spent the whole day in the water, exiting only when we got a chill or needed food or water, but no longer than ten minutes out of the water because the air was so thick and the sun so hot on our pale faces and backs. We met a few Italian guys that were super nice and tried to chat with us in the water, matt approved of them so we decided it was safe to chat for a bit. They asked our names and when I said “Sydney!” Paulo replied “oh bellissima!” ha they like my name here! Anyway some of the other girls talked to them for a while and me and matt beat eachother up in the water and I floated in the thick salt for a good 20 min. just soaking up the water and sun. Basically a perfect day. Of course I am now sufficiently burned and red all over, but it was SO worth it. The water we swam in was surrounded by high cliffs on top of which laid the city. Big caves lined another part of the beach away from us and across the water another city jutted out in the mist. It was unreal and tropical in every sense. I could have stayed another day if I didn’t have to return to the hostel again, but unfortunately, as with most good things, the day came to an end and we boarded the bus then caught a train on the spur of the moment back to rome (conveniently we got to the train station early so we ended up taking a train eight minutes after we arrived that we didn’t know was even there! Plus we got to get on it for free with our eurail passes and that made us all marginally more happy) Then we were back in Rome sweet home and I came home, took a sleeping pill and crashed for a good soild eight hours. Today I woke up, ate breaky, and went back to sleep for four more hours and since then have simply ate, read and written all day long. I have a nasty head and chest cold, but with all the rest im hoping it will leave by tomorrow when we’ve planned a trip to the roman fortress so cross your fingers! All in all the week was yet another amazing experience that I will remember for the rest of my life. I never thought that Id have such extraordinary experiences but they just seems to come to me and I welcome them with open arms, especially if they involve noccicola or pizza! Hahaha. Ciao loves!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment