So I'm Back...To the Velvet...Underground...Back to the Floor...That I Love

This is my first blog, so if you are an avid blog reader, you may find this one dry and boring.
But I doubt it because I started this blog to share my stories with those who could not join me in Italy in the summer of 2010. And therefore my stories should be fun. Because I am fun. And traveling is exhilarating and a true blessing.

Sunday, June 6, 2010

I have been SLACKING.
When was my last post? I don't even remember.
So let me recap...
Traveling alone is not for me. Numero uno. Second, I have created my own language. It's called Spanalian. Spanish and Italian together. I know some Spanish, I know some Italian...and WA-LAH! Dr. Murphy AND Dr. Francis would not approve.
Furthermore, I am slacking on my work. This will be remedied tonight! Maybe...

So the UNF group got to Rome a week, a week ago Monday and ever since I've been having a blast. Before then however I would have to say I was not. But I did go to the Forum and to St. Peter's where I was told I was not allowed to enter on account of my too short dress. Oh well. If I'd cared that much I would have changed clothes. Instead I walked around Rome with a Coke (which tastes different in Italy, by the way...not to mention the serving size is smaller, fyi). At least, I walked around the St. Peter's side of Rome.
I went to dinner by myself at this restaurant I'd walked by about two or three times waiting for them to open not remembering that Italians eat later than Americans. The server/owner was AWESOME and magnificently patient with me. I ordered linguine with mussels and it was muy delicioso. It was dinner and a show: she didn't speak but about two words of English: little English. was me and my phrase book and she was marvelously kind (uh oh--Practical Magic spell right there). My food was great; the service was great. I do believe the restaurant was called Mama's. I'll go check and verify. Evidence. A history student is all about the evidence.

This was before my St. Peter's time. Oh my heavens.
Sidebar: I have had a bottle of the house wine at a restaurant located near the Trevi Fountain. Damn it--I don't have the name. I'll go back. Sidebar #2: When I tell you the name of the restaurant, you have to go there. Not only was the food GREAT (by far, one of the greatest since I've been here), but the price was in line with my very thinning wallet, but the server/owner was ... he's on my bobble shelf. I have a collection of people that get inducted into my bobble head shelf of fame and this Italian man was so gracious to our party of thirteen I just wanted to hug him. But I didn't. I shook his hand and told him my meal was "delicioso." (Spelling could be wrong: I am without my book and spellcheck doesn't correlate to Italian, FYI #2).

So....where was I? Oh--St. Peter's.
This is my favorite structure in Rome. It is beautiful and brilliant. Brain boggling and beyond.
(Sidebar #3: listening to the Black Crowes in Rome. Feathers... Wooooooot!!)
Since I couldn't get into the Vatican due to my unacceptable dress, I sat in it's square. (I feel clean again. I...I, don't waste my sin....I...I....can't spare a grin...because it's bad blood time again...-Thanks Chris Robinson...but you are not raining on my parade...--Despite your brilliance and amazing ability to relate reality to that fantastical breed of the imaginary world)

Back to St. Peter's...
Americans, Spaniards, Asians, Italians----it's the most beautiful conglomeration of people I have ever seen. And everyone is in awe because it is, of course, St. Peter's.
Oh. I saw an English family. And the little girl was Hermione and the little boy was Charlie or Johnny. But he was precious. He was walking around to everyone in our area saying "hi" or "hello" in toddler talk. And every person responded to him with a smile. Divisions ignored, nationalities meaning was just a child. Being kind and responding to the world which confronted him. It was beautiful. And he was precious. Interesting looking, but precious.

The sun did not cast a shadow upon St. Peter's. The light was present but not imposing. (We will find our way...Chris Robinson...Feathers...but I must revert to Ryan Adams and "The Shadowlands." is just beautiful!
St. Peter's.
Have you ever just looked at a structure or any creation for that matter and just felt an awe that was beyond you? A shared experience. Beautimus!
I saw the Pope. "Il Papa?"
How freaking surreal?!?!?!?!?!
I saw the freaking Pope!!!!!!!
I will post pictures.
But it's interesting.
Why is that surreal for me? Would it be just as surreal as seeing Gandhi if I had the ability to see him? Food for ironic? I'm listening to the instrumental part of "The Shadowlands" which is more beautiful than any other instrumental part of Ryan Adams music (to me) hands down.
It makes me want to look into the eyes of the person I'm supposed to spend my life with. And yes, I believe in true love. And one love. And it's my belief. And this is what plays in my head when I look into the eyes of that person.

This is going to be a long post I see....
"Autorock" on the soundtrack for Miami Vice is also an amazing composition. It makes me want to save a person from a destruction that is impending. I wonder if I succeed.

I love Rome. I hate Naples. The End. ;)

No, I won't end it there. But I do have a lot to catch up on and it will not be completed in one post.

So to people....
Nope. Not yet. Too early and too much to write. But it is truly AWEsome how modern ancient Romans were. I chose the wrong major.
Haley Bonar is freaking amazing. Big Star is a great album and "Queen of Everything" is a song that makes me want to take over the world. ;-)

The Rest of Italy later...I have a Skype date. ;)

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Day 1 in Adventureland

So. Here is the rundown of the last 24 hours: I boarded my plane at 2:30ish in Jacksonville. The weather was crappy, so they delayed it--GREAT--not by much; in fact, the delay was probably 15 minutes max, but nevertheless, it was delayed. Then, I land in Washington and have to book it to my other flight because the gate I had to go to was at the other side of Dulles. I have no problem with this; in fact, I do try to walk at a fast pace most of the time. However, that is pleasure walking and not when I have 20 pounds on my back and shoulders. So, yes. I board the plane where I will be spending the next 8 hours of my life. And lo and behold...there is a 4 year old screamer 2 seats and to the right of me. LOVERLY LOVERLY: at this point I'm jumping up in down inside because of the joy I feel to have a screamer on this flight. Insert saracasm . But noooo...this wasn't the best of it. In fact, little screamer boy hushed after his poor mother walked him around the plane for a good 20 minutes. Kudos to good mom who never yelled or lost her patience with her screaming child. Nope. The little boy in front of me...directly in front of me...I could touch the hair on his head if I wanted to...puked all over his seat probably right after dinner. I knew I smelled something; I just didn't know what was happening.
The last flight, from Munich to Rome, occurred rather uneventfully so I'll skip ahead to landing in Rome. First item on my list: retrieve baggage. Eh, no excitement there. Of course, had they lost my bag, that would have created much excitement. aka stress. No...the hysteria set in as soon as I walked through the exit doors and all I saw was chaos. Yes, hysteria set in within my little brain and heart, but I didn't let it show through. I just told the taxi drivers no when they asked if I wanted/needed a taxi though in reality all I wanted was a ride to my quarters. I pressed on. But the panic manifested itself about 10 minutes later when a couple of tears stained my exhausted face. What the heck was I thinking when I thought to myself, "Hm, I think I'll go to Italy by myself." Well, nevertheless, the thought occurred and it has happened and I find myself alone in Rome. So I better make the best of it.
After siting a group of people waiting for a shuttle bus, I joined them. It cost 8 euros, eh not too bad, and we were headed to the Termini. Oh how I wish I was staying at the hotel across the street like 2 years ago. But I'm not. I'm staying in a convent with the Suore Teatine and I must say, I'm very grateful to one Ms. Roberts for making the suggestion. One that never occurred to me. Mainly because I've never done this before.
I arrive at the Termini station and think, ok, now taxi. How to get one? It was no problem. He asked me and while I knew better (my guide books say not to accept a taxi offer from a solicitor) I was desperate, going on 24 hours with no sleep and all I wanted was to take a shower and get some sleep. (I don't care where you are sleep is necessary at some point and for me, it is even more necessary). So I got in the cab. He said about 20 euros, I said how about 17, he said how about we see how traffic is. Once I realized how far we had to drive and how long it would take, I figured 20 euros isn't too shabby and esp. if I wanted a ride directly to where I am staying versus a bus ride which would take me how far away PLUS...yea, I'm staying at the top of a hill. Not ideal for a 50 lb. suitcase and 2 bags which weigh roughly, I'd say 20 together. I'll take the taxi.
After too many instances where I was certain a Fiat or motor scooter was going to crash directly into my door, I arrive at my destination. Meanwhile, I feel nauseated (a. motion sickness, b. hunger, c. anxiety) and all I want is to lie down. And I am about 10 minutes away from doing just that. I get checked in, my nuns are super nice and I am super ignorant speaking about 3 words of Italian (ciao, grazie, and buon giorno)--okay maybe four words--and here I am. I'm close to the Vatican though I haven't quite figured out how to get there yet. I'm figuring out the neighborhood on this side of the Vatican for now. The Vatican will be tomorrow.....

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Preliminary Post

Today is May 23rd.
Tomorrow, Monday, I leave for Italy. My flight leaves at 2:43 and I will land in Rome around 11 on May 25th. I start my journey as a solo traveler. There is much to be learned, seen and experienced and I intend on accomplishing all of this ... and more.

Much love to those who are close to my heart.