Thursday, 4/24/03
Yesterday I got up at 6:15 to catch the architecture bus at 7am. We went to Urbino. The only thing good about that field trip was the Casa Natale Raffaelo. I went there all by myself, when we had free time before our museum reservation. The museum in Urbino was an endless collection of Madonnas and Bambinos; it bored me out of my mind, since one definite thing I've learned on this trip is that I don't like pre-Renaissance painting!
Kate told me she thought she'd seen every piece of Byzantine art (painting and mosaic) in the world. When I told her that she's probably only seen 1% of them, she nearly went nuts. Palazzo Ducale, that's hat the museum is called. I did get to see the original of "La Cita Ideale", which I've never overly liked, but it's important to Renaissance art history.
We also went to see some 1970s university dormitories, which where actually quite interesting, architecturally. But the worst thing about the trip was The Trip! 2 1/2 hours there and 2 1/2 hours back of winding through mountains on a bus! I think all of us were in one degree or another of motion sickness. Luckily, no one actually puked.
Friday, 4/25/03
Well, I'm about back on the top again, just like good old George "Babyface" Nelson, who was jumping for excitement about the electric chair. [in O Brother, Where Art Thou?]
Yesterday, Paolo's presentations were so far behind schedule that ours were rescheduled for 7pm. Our presentation went very well. Everyone else said that he talked more than they did, but he actually listened to our entire presentation and didn't talk overly much. I wouldn't have minded if he did; unlike most people, I love to listen to Paolo talk.
After dinner all the non-architecture people went out for ice cream, with their nice separate budget. When Dr. R announced that at dinner, Taeg stood up and said that the architecture students would get something even better later.
Saturday, 4/26/03
How much I have to write about, and I actually have time to do it! It's 4 in the afternoon, and I have no engagements. I'm in my favorite spot in the courtyard, at the top of the left flight of stairs, with a grand view of the courtyard to my left, the valley to my right, and the mountains beyond. I'm itching to write about today, but about yesterday as well, so I'd better go chronologically.
Yesterday morning I was lonely for some odd reason, and itching to go somewhere, but I hadn't gotten up early enough. So before lunch I brought my spiral up to this very spot and started writing nonsense. There was hardly anyone at lunch, and everyone was full of what happened at 4am the night before. Apparently, a big group got drunk and were having some kind of party in the computer lab. Somehow @@@ got the idea that ###, who she has had a thing with on and off this semester, liked ****. Now, according to her roommate, ### really does like ****, and he's always hanging out in their room and **** doesn't lead him on, but can't give him a firm "NO". So anyway, to prove his love for @@@, he got a chair from the dining hall, took it upstairs, and threw it at ****'s door, all the while yelling #$%^ ****!" over and over in a string of profanity. The chair knocked the door open, but luckily **** slept through it. About everyone else in the center woke up, though. What a way to prove your love! I guess it makes logical sense when you're drunk.
This morning I got up at 8:45 to catch the 9:30 bus. Cortona is one of my favorite towns in Italy. It was about the most successful day trip I've made. It's not much bigger than Castiglion, but it's all on the side of a mountain. From a distance, from the Val di Chiana, it looks like it's going to slide off the mountain. We walked through the town trying to find the church with the dead saint. Finally, Carmen asked someone, "Dove Santa Morto?" She found out that it was Santa Margherita, so after much more searching we finally understood that it was at the very top of the hill, and we had a nice scenic climb up.
The walk down was more worth it than the shriveled Saint Margaret. Carmen and I found an ideal field for frolicking. Valerie probably wanted to disown us at that point. I took lots of pictures on the way down, then we passed through the market. That was the best part. I saw this funky but cute shirt for only €5. I tried one on over my shirt and it actually fit! It was an XXL. Then the three of us rummaged through some silky scarves and I got a red one for me, and a black and white one for my sister, €2 each. Finally, when I passed some absolutely beautiful Chinese dresses, my blood nearly froze. There was a rack full of shirts and dresses, only €15! There was a black shirt that had dragons on it, but it was actually too big. The one that fit me the best was a dress, black with red designs on it. I tried it on when we got back, and I've never had a dress fit me better! That style usually makes my hips look enormous. In addition to the scarf, I got my sister a toy bow and arrow to indulge her dreams of being Galadriel and showing her moves to Legolas.
I told Valerie this morning that I was going to change my name to Leonarda DaVinci, because I want to learn how to fly.
On the way back from Cortona, the bus driver made a mistake and told us we had to get off at the bottom of the hill. Then, when we started walking up the hill and he started driving us, ready to pass us, I pointed at him and said, "What's this?" Valerie put her hands out to her sides and shrugged, giving him a look. He did the same thing back, like "Oops," but he pulled over and let us back on. It was really funny.
We got pizza in town before going back to Santa Chiara, and just as we got back, Dr. R was leaving! He actually missed his earlier train to Rome, and now was taking a taxi to the train station. It was lucky that we caught him.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
More time with the Branch, church bells, and Muster
Sunday, 4/20/03
Our example and conduct may be the only standard works a person ever reads. ~Anziano Cascone
Fratello Zuppardo invited me to their house for lunch, so here I am. On the way here he told me, "I speak English like a Switzerland cow!" Then, they say p-ssichology. It was really funny.
I now know all the Zuppardo children's names. Gabriele and Michele are teenagers. I don't know if I spelled their names correctly, probably not. Then Ginevra and Arianna just turned 12, then there is Evans who is 8, Selene who is almost 5, and Alexia who is 2. This afternoon was so much fun. We had a huge lunch, the Zuppardos, Anziani Bond and Lee, Anna and her parents, and me. We had pasta, of course, but Fratello Zuppardo wouldn't eat it because he burned the sauce a little bit. Then we had rabbit and lamb meat. The rabbit was pretty good, though tough, but I didn't really like the lamb. Then we had salad, then finally the family brought out 10 enormous Easter eggs. They were each about 10 inches tall! They had toys inside, but they weren't Kinder Eggs. I guess toy eggs are the real Easter thing in Italy. The chocolate was good. Then Sorella Zuppardo brought out some big dessert breads. One was really good; it had dried arancio [orange--had to look that one up!] inside, and almonds on the top. Sorella Zuppardo made me take a bag of chocolate home with me.
After dinner I went with Anna, Ginevra, Arianna, as well as the Anziani, Michele and Evans to the pond. The three girls did a funny pose for me, we threw rocks in the water, we fenced with sticks, and I told them how to make recycled paper. Oh, Selene and Alexia went too, on the Anziani's shoulders. We had to constantly keep Alexia from falling in the water, until finally she fell face down in the mud.
When we got back, the three girls sang with the karaoke box the twins got for their birthday last week. Then I was about to fall asleep on the sofa, when Anziano Bond said it was time to go. I started writing on the train home, but a man was trying to talk to me. He was originally from Romania. He wrote near the back of this book, "I love you my family."
Monday, 4/21/03
Though the church bells wake me from my deep slumber, I still love them. At the beginning they reminded me of The Sound of Music. Now they don't so much anymore; rather, The Sound of Music bells may in the future remind me of Castiglion Fiorentino. I don't even know how often they ring. Sometimes, on special occasions, it's every fifteen minutes.
I'm glad I didn't go to Cortona today; it's rainy and chilly outside, though beautiful. Last night I accidentally swallowed some toothpaste. That reacted very badly with my overeating, so my limbs felt feverish and I felt nauseous. I dropped into bed as soon as possible, at 10:40 and slept until 9:30. Then I read the four accounts of Easter in the Bible for an hour, then tried to read about Mannerism in my textbook, but went back to sleep. The bells woke me up thirty minutes later. My dreams mingled with my thoughts on how to retell the story of "The Black Bull of Norroway".
Wednesday, 4/23/02
What has been up with me and journaling the past two day? I'm not really depressed, but I'm in the bottom half of the emotional scale and I have no idea why. Maybe I'm realizing that, though I'm itching like nothing else to get home, I'm going to miss Italy so much. When I got here nothing took me by surprise, the mountainous setting, etc. That was because I had no expectations. But I know that once I'm home and I realize little things that Italy has and the U.S. doesn't, I'm going to want to come back.
To continue with Monday, right after dinner we had a Muster in the dining hall The best part was the yell practice at the end. All the graduating seniors led the yells, and Marty and Kelly got up on the table. After that, Valerie and I watched Dead Poets Society and cried.
Our example and conduct may be the only standard works a person ever reads. ~Anziano Cascone
Fratello Zuppardo invited me to their house for lunch, so here I am. On the way here he told me, "I speak English like a Switzerland cow!" Then, they say p-ssichology. It was really funny.
I now know all the Zuppardo children's names. Gabriele and Michele are teenagers. I don't know if I spelled their names correctly, probably not. Then Ginevra and Arianna just turned 12, then there is Evans who is 8, Selene who is almost 5, and Alexia who is 2. This afternoon was so much fun. We had a huge lunch, the Zuppardos, Anziani Bond and Lee, Anna and her parents, and me. We had pasta, of course, but Fratello Zuppardo wouldn't eat it because he burned the sauce a little bit. Then we had rabbit and lamb meat. The rabbit was pretty good, though tough, but I didn't really like the lamb. Then we had salad, then finally the family brought out 10 enormous Easter eggs. They were each about 10 inches tall! They had toys inside, but they weren't Kinder Eggs. I guess toy eggs are the real Easter thing in Italy. The chocolate was good. Then Sorella Zuppardo brought out some big dessert breads. One was really good; it had dried arancio [orange--had to look that one up!] inside, and almonds on the top. Sorella Zuppardo made me take a bag of chocolate home with me.
After dinner I went with Anna, Ginevra, Arianna, as well as the Anziani, Michele and Evans to the pond. The three girls did a funny pose for me, we threw rocks in the water, we fenced with sticks, and I told them how to make recycled paper. Oh, Selene and Alexia went too, on the Anziani's shoulders. We had to constantly keep Alexia from falling in the water, until finally she fell face down in the mud.
When we got back, the three girls sang with the karaoke box the twins got for their birthday last week. Then I was about to fall asleep on the sofa, when Anziano Bond said it was time to go. I started writing on the train home, but a man was trying to talk to me. He was originally from Romania. He wrote near the back of this book, "I love you my family."
Monday, 4/21/03
Though the church bells wake me from my deep slumber, I still love them. At the beginning they reminded me of The Sound of Music. Now they don't so much anymore; rather, The Sound of Music bells may in the future remind me of Castiglion Fiorentino. I don't even know how often they ring. Sometimes, on special occasions, it's every fifteen minutes.
I'm glad I didn't go to Cortona today; it's rainy and chilly outside, though beautiful. Last night I accidentally swallowed some toothpaste. That reacted very badly with my overeating, so my limbs felt feverish and I felt nauseous. I dropped into bed as soon as possible, at 10:40 and slept until 9:30. Then I read the four accounts of Easter in the Bible for an hour, then tried to read about Mannerism in my textbook, but went back to sleep. The bells woke me up thirty minutes later. My dreams mingled with my thoughts on how to retell the story of "The Black Bull of Norroway".
Wednesday, 4/23/02
What has been up with me and journaling the past two day? I'm not really depressed, but I'm in the bottom half of the emotional scale and I have no idea why. Maybe I'm realizing that, though I'm itching like nothing else to get home, I'm going to miss Italy so much. When I got here nothing took me by surprise, the mountainous setting, etc. That was because I had no expectations. But I know that once I'm home and I realize little things that Italy has and the U.S. doesn't, I'm going to want to come back.
To continue with Monday, right after dinner we had a Muster in the dining hall The best part was the yell practice at the end. All the graduating seniors led the yells, and Marty and Kelly got up on the table. After that, Valerie and I watched Dead Poets Society and cried.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Vinci, harpsichords, and other craziness
Wednesday, 4/16/03
Nothing is created, only discovered ~Ray Mullican
We're on our way to Vinci now, where, of course Leonardo was from. I never knew until a week ago that da Vinci wasn't his last name.
We, as the architecture group, are lounging in a park, eating lunch. We don't have enough of our budget left to join the other with their €16 meal. Instead, Taeg allotted us €5 each and most of us went to get €1 sandwiches. I'm making money today. When we walked down here together, Chase suggested we just go to the COOP and get mass food for a picnic. Taeg told him he was in charge, and gave him the money. The COOP didn' have much selection, so we kind of split of and decided to get our reimbursement later. Taeg was waitinug in the park for us. When he realized things didn't go as originally planned, he called to Chase, "Chase! Did you get me lunch?" He hadn't, of course, so Taeg had to go get his own. A few minutes ago Taeg said we had a number of options: stay here, split off, or Chase go to the tourist office to see if there was anything for us to see. We voted to send Chase on the errand. Ross said, "Yeah Chase, that's what you get for forgetting our professor's lunch."
Before lunch we went to Il Museo Leonardino di Vinci. Most of it was his sketches and technical drawing with models people had built based on his drawings. They were really fascinating but it was hard to visualize exactly how they worked because we couldn't touch them. The neatest pieces were a bicycle, these ski things to walk on water with, and a giant wing. Then there was a video playing on his work. It was fascinating, though it had the cheesy crummy feel of a '60s or '70s video. Now we're on the bus on the way to Leonardo's house.
If I write a book about my experiences I'll either call it "500 ways to eat pasta," or my personal favorite that I just thought of, "Over the Tuscan Rainbow."
For the first time in my trip, I would want to live in Italy. How I'll miss the gentle rolling hills, cultivated, yet still natural, and the horizons of soft mountains. How can I continue to experience the richness of art without all the originals at my fingertips? What variations Italy has! America is diverse as well, but not as compact. On the shores of Amalfi and Capri we felt like we weren't even in the country anymore.
Rome, Venice, Capri, Assissi, and now my favorite Tuscan town, Vinci, or the surrounding countryside. The house of Leonardo isn't in Vinci, but about 3 km outside. It's surrounded by an extensive grove of olive trees. The house was interesting, but we couldn't read the Italian explanations.
I was wondering what goddess Carmen was this morning, and she said she took the test and is Artemis. I told that was very much evidenced in how she frolicked in the olive trees today. We all walked through the groves. There were red poppies scattered, the first time I've seen poppies. I wanted to cackle and say, "Poppies! Poppies will put them to sleep!" like the wicked witch of the west, then take a nap, but there wasn't time. About half of us girls came back with flowers of different kinds in our hair. I cringe when I think of what I would've missed if they hadn't moved the field trip from last Friday to today. I took a picture of Taeg trying to whistle with a piece of grass.
We even had an adventure on the Moretti bus today. I slept most of the way to Vinci, but woke up when a weird dip in the road made us scrape against the concrete. We'd turned the wrong way and had to back up.
Cady and Karin just offered me €20 to ask ---- with a straight face to lay down on the floor, bring his ankles to his forehead, let one rip, and light it on fire.
Jen just walked in, and I asked her if she's seen anyone light their fart on fire. She said, "Yeah, I've done it." Then she said that they caught their tent on fire. Karin said, "In the tent? Why didn't you do it outside?" "It was raining and we had burritos for lunch!" I've been guffawing for the last 20 minutes.
Friday, 4/18/03
It's 5pm and I'm on my bed. I just finished eating an apple while listening to "Bridge over Troubled Water", then "Unchained Melody".
We had the most fascinating discussion in ARTS yesterday. Most people hated it because we didn't get anywhere. But I loved it because it was more about figuring out the questions than the answers. Then Paolo told us there was no time to do our presentations, so they were extra credit. Hooray! Then we had no slide projector for a lecture, so he and Dr. R stood up and started discussing the purpose of art and creativity. Dr. R said art was healing. Somehow it got morphed into the similarities between art and psychology. I was absolutely fascinated. The second half however, turned into us all trying to convince Paolo to be more open minded about the discipline of psychology. He was mostly trying to provoke us to discussion.
Before dinner we went to Paolo's brother, Franco's, harpsichord shop. He's one of about 10 people in Italy who makes harpsichords. They were beautiful. The finished ones were painted with color designs, or scenes with people in nature.
After dinner Valerie came up to our room and Edit walked in with a radio to have a dancing party. After she got her energy out, suddenly I got up and started acting crazy. I was kicking off my slippers and trying to catch them. The I started acting like a crazy humpbacked witch speaking a cross between German and Klingon. Edit had never seen my crazy side and Karin brought up their first taste of it--back in the hotel park when I ran up and down the secret stairs one night.
After lunch me, Omar, Chase, Morgan, and Sarah hiked to the Castel Montecchio. It took us about an hour to get there. We not only cut across fields, but even climbed up the levels of olive grove on the hill, rather than take the road up to the top. It was a lot of fun.
Saturday, 4/19/03
This morning I got an email from Grandpa. He said that a trip to the Mediterranean was on his and Grandma's agenda, and to take advantage of the opportunity to travel while I am young. I thought that was really sweet. I decided last night to make one more day trip to Rome because there are still several things I want to see there. I'll do that next weekend.
Nothing is created, only discovered ~Ray Mullican
We're on our way to Vinci now, where, of course Leonardo was from. I never knew until a week ago that da Vinci wasn't his last name.
We, as the architecture group, are lounging in a park, eating lunch. We don't have enough of our budget left to join the other with their €16 meal. Instead, Taeg allotted us €5 each and most of us went to get €1 sandwiches. I'm making money today. When we walked down here together, Chase suggested we just go to the COOP and get mass food for a picnic. Taeg told him he was in charge, and gave him the money. The COOP didn' have much selection, so we kind of split of and decided to get our reimbursement later. Taeg was waitinug in the park for us. When he realized things didn't go as originally planned, he called to Chase, "Chase! Did you get me lunch?" He hadn't, of course, so Taeg had to go get his own. A few minutes ago Taeg said we had a number of options: stay here, split off, or Chase go to the tourist office to see if there was anything for us to see. We voted to send Chase on the errand. Ross said, "Yeah Chase, that's what you get for forgetting our professor's lunch."
Before lunch we went to Il Museo Leonardino di Vinci. Most of it was his sketches and technical drawing with models people had built based on his drawings. They were really fascinating but it was hard to visualize exactly how they worked because we couldn't touch them. The neatest pieces were a bicycle, these ski things to walk on water with, and a giant wing. Then there was a video playing on his work. It was fascinating, though it had the cheesy crummy feel of a '60s or '70s video. Now we're on the bus on the way to Leonardo's house.
If I write a book about my experiences I'll either call it "500 ways to eat pasta," or my personal favorite that I just thought of, "Over the Tuscan Rainbow."
For the first time in my trip, I would want to live in Italy. How I'll miss the gentle rolling hills, cultivated, yet still natural, and the horizons of soft mountains. How can I continue to experience the richness of art without all the originals at my fingertips? What variations Italy has! America is diverse as well, but not as compact. On the shores of Amalfi and Capri we felt like we weren't even in the country anymore.
Rome, Venice, Capri, Assissi, and now my favorite Tuscan town, Vinci, or the surrounding countryside. The house of Leonardo isn't in Vinci, but about 3 km outside. It's surrounded by an extensive grove of olive trees. The house was interesting, but we couldn't read the Italian explanations.
I was wondering what goddess Carmen was this morning, and she said she took the test and is Artemis. I told that was very much evidenced in how she frolicked in the olive trees today. We all walked through the groves. There were red poppies scattered, the first time I've seen poppies. I wanted to cackle and say, "Poppies! Poppies will put them to sleep!" like the wicked witch of the west, then take a nap, but there wasn't time. About half of us girls came back with flowers of different kinds in our hair. I cringe when I think of what I would've missed if they hadn't moved the field trip from last Friday to today. I took a picture of Taeg trying to whistle with a piece of grass.
We even had an adventure on the Moretti bus today. I slept most of the way to Vinci, but woke up when a weird dip in the road made us scrape against the concrete. We'd turned the wrong way and had to back up.
Cady and Karin just offered me €20 to ask ---- with a straight face to lay down on the floor, bring his ankles to his forehead, let one rip, and light it on fire.
Jen just walked in, and I asked her if she's seen anyone light their fart on fire. She said, "Yeah, I've done it." Then she said that they caught their tent on fire. Karin said, "In the tent? Why didn't you do it outside?" "It was raining and we had burritos for lunch!" I've been guffawing for the last 20 minutes.
Friday, 4/18/03
It's 5pm and I'm on my bed. I just finished eating an apple while listening to "Bridge over Troubled Water", then "Unchained Melody".
We had the most fascinating discussion in ARTS yesterday. Most people hated it because we didn't get anywhere. But I loved it because it was more about figuring out the questions than the answers. Then Paolo told us there was no time to do our presentations, so they were extra credit. Hooray! Then we had no slide projector for a lecture, so he and Dr. R stood up and started discussing the purpose of art and creativity. Dr. R said art was healing. Somehow it got morphed into the similarities between art and psychology. I was absolutely fascinated. The second half however, turned into us all trying to convince Paolo to be more open minded about the discipline of psychology. He was mostly trying to provoke us to discussion.
Before dinner we went to Paolo's brother, Franco's, harpsichord shop. He's one of about 10 people in Italy who makes harpsichords. They were beautiful. The finished ones were painted with color designs, or scenes with people in nature.
After dinner Valerie came up to our room and Edit walked in with a radio to have a dancing party. After she got her energy out, suddenly I got up and started acting crazy. I was kicking off my slippers and trying to catch them. The I started acting like a crazy humpbacked witch speaking a cross between German and Klingon. Edit had never seen my crazy side and Karin brought up their first taste of it--back in the hotel park when I ran up and down the secret stairs one night.
After lunch me, Omar, Chase, Morgan, and Sarah hiked to the Castel Montecchio. It took us about an hour to get there. We not only cut across fields, but even climbed up the levels of olive grove on the hill, rather than take the road up to the top. It was a lot of fun.
Saturday, 4/19/03
This morning I got an email from Grandpa. He said that a trip to the Mediterranean was on his and Grandma's agenda, and to take advantage of the opportunity to travel while I am young. I thought that was really sweet. I decided last night to make one more day trip to Rome because there are still several things I want to see there. I'll do that next weekend.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Amalfi#2, Capri, and Another Night in a Train Station
Monday, 4/14/03
Back to Saturday. While on the pier we talked about Amalfi. Dixie and Kate are both beach girls--they love the beach. I was thinking that maybe I'm just not a beach person because I just wasn't taking to Amalfi. The ocean made me extremely restless and I hadn't been to the beach since I was 3 or 4. But I think the reason I wasn't enjoying myself as much was because I was worrying about money and I wasn't comfortable with our hostel at that time. Later, "Willie's" became more of a joke, but I wasn't clean at the time, and was therefore uncomfortable. [clean, as in I hadn't showered, not that I was on drugs]
There's another thing about Amalfi. It's not even really a beach. The beach was tiny and not very sandy. The slope of the mountain went right on down to the water at most points, and the entire town felt very confining to me, confined by the mountains around it. Like it was being shoved into the ocean.
Later in the afternoon we went up the main road and into the shops. Kate and I split off so Dixie could check her email. We went up to the Duomo, a beautiful church with an interior of white and gold. I want a hall like that in my fantasy temple. On the way down the tall flight of steps, we saw a wedding celebration coming out into the square below. The bride and groom were dancing, people were blowing bubbles, etc. Later we found out that they were both American, but the families came over every year.
Tuesday, 4/15/03
So when we met Dixie we were standing in the square talking, when we saw a lady reading an English newspaper, sitting at the fountain. We had been keeping an eye out for newspapers for fresh news about the war. So I told Dixie to ask her where she got the paper. I don't know why I didn't ask her myself; we're just used to relying on Dixie because she speaks Italian.
Not only did she give us the front section of her Wall Street Journal, but she ended up showing us a few places where we could get some dinner. Her name was Suzanne and she lived in Italy, though she was originally from California and goes home to Atlanta every once in a while to visit her children, who live with their father.
So that's how we came to be in the wine restaurant Saturday night. Before we met Suzanne I had bought a sandwich to save for later, so by the time we got there I was too full to eat anything else or spend any more money. Suzanne told us we might see her there if we went, and we did! She was with an Italian man who we later found out was her fiance, the mayor of a neighboring town, and a marketer. His name was Giocanni (sp?). They invited us to sit at their table. Giocanni, when he found out Dixie was a marketing major, said he needed a business partner and that they should run a business together. As for architects, he said that Italy needed designers with more of a world perspective, because Italians take things so slow and discuss everything so much that nothing ever gets done.
Suzanne had an interesting background. I don't remember what her previous work had been in Italy, but now she was working on two books, one on something to do with MLK, and the other about some healing methods a doctor used. The two of them were looking at villas in Amalfi. They were nice enough to give us a ride back to Willie's after dinner.
When we got back to Willie's we found Marty and Maari in the kitchen, and they said that there was a train strike, so we couldn't get home on Sunday. That really upset me because I couldn't afford to stay another night. Marty was worried because she had 3 Italian quizzes on Monday morning. So until she could get a hold of her instructor, the plan was to go to Napoli Sunday evening and catch the first train running after 9pm to Rome, then the first train of the morning back to Castiglion.
Having the whole day of Sunday to hang out, we decided to go to Capri. I debated about the expense, but I didn't want to stay by myself. How glad I am that I did. Capri was by far the best part of the weekend, and what made it exceptional. We thought we would have to make a choice between Tiberius' palace and the Blue Grotto. I was for the palace because it was less expensive, and we would see more of the island that way. We decided to go for the palace and do other things if we had the time. Marco had said it was a 2 1/2 hour hike up there, but he's a leisurely man. Once we took the funiculare up to the real town of Capri, it was only a 45 minute walk up to the palace, Villa Jovis, it was called. It cost €2 to get in. It was a fascinating place, though in ruins. Tiberius was the Caesar during the time of Christ, and apparently he came to Capri for his health. His reign gave him a bad name, even though it was really his generals who were ruling from Rome and doing the cruel things. The funniest thing we saw was when we were walking down a path, suddenly two billy goats popped their heads over the wall above us. There were four or five of them climbing around in the ruins.
I knew I had left something out! Vick! Vick is a dog who picked us up about halfway to the palace and decided to be our tourguide. He was the friendliest dog I've ever known. Ken named him Victor Mancini after a character in some book (by the same author who wrote Fight Club). Apparently he was sort of a Silence of the Lambs-ish character.
Vick knew exactly how to get to the villa. He even showed us the restroom on the way up, where he proceeded to drink from the toilet. It was he who aroused the billy goats by barking. He even begged Marty for some water by nosing her bottle. He ate lunch with us at Tiberius' leap, a cliff edge where, according to legend, Tiberius threw his enemies over. We threw plenty of orange and lemon peels over.
Down at the bottom of the cliff we could see rocks just under the water that had an incredible green tint against the pure blue of the normal water.
Now that I felt I knew the island better, I felt a lot more comfortable going back to the shore and seeing the blue grotto. By that time Marty had found out they could take their quizzes on Tuesday, but by that time the hostel in Sorrento was full. Dixie and Kate had made reservations for that morning, but the rest of us were homeless for the night.
We paid €7 for the boat to the grotto, €4 for the rowboat in, and €4.10 to get in. We knew it would be really expensive, but we had heard tales of €20 or more, so we figured ourselves lucky. We were amazed at how small the entrance was. It was only about four feet above the water, and every minute or so a wave would all but fill the entrance, so the rowers had to be really careful and we had to get low down in the boat when we went inside.
In the larger boat on the way there, I was loving the sea spray, the taste on my lips, and running my hands through the water I could barely reach. The cliffs and small caves we passed were incredible. The water was so so blue, a deep dark blue. Not navy, but much darker than the sky. And I could see green in its ripples, reminding me of Monet's paintings of the sea. I love the Mediterranean!
Inside the Blue Grotto all we did was go around it, then back out. We were only in there for five minutes or less, but the beauty was worth every penny. The water glowed underneath like neon lights and the walls of the cave reflected the water.
Afterward, while we waited for Ken, Kelly and Kate, we walked out to a strip of big rocks on the shore and laid there. It was a little cold to try to get some sun, so I just found a flat rock and curled up with my hood over my head and relaxed, maybe slept for a few minutes. The sound of the waves filling the cavities of rock underneath me was exhilarating and calming at the same time. It was then that I wondered why I loved Capri so much more than Amalfi. To me, the sea at Capri was liberating, where at Amalfi it was suffocating. Maybe it's because there's something so much more dynamic about an island. The cliffs seemed to want to take off into the air, they were in an intense battle with the water. In Amalfi we were sandwiched between two large masses, the mainland and the sea, but Capri was fighting on my side, the cliffs cutting through the water, or the water cutting through the cliffs.
Finally, we took the hydrofoil back to Sorrento and I took one last photo of the silhouette of Capri with the white stream of water coming out of the back of the boat. The Sorrento shore was one straight cliff against the water. The town was actually pretty flat just beyond that. I really like Sorrento. There were tons of nice little ceramics and music box shops. It was a classy place.
When we split off from Kate and Dixie we went to the circumvia station to ask if there were any trains from Napoli to Rome, but the man at the ticket office said we would have to go to Napoli to find out. We didn't want to get stuck in Napoli if there wasn't. It's known as the armpit of Italy: hot, humid, and smelly, as well as dangerous and dirty. So Marty called Rachel and had her look up trains on the internet. There was a Eurostar after 9, which was supposed to be €10 more than a regular train. I told Marty that if we went to a club in Sorrento, we would end up spending more than the Eurostar anyway (I really didn't want to spend the night in a club, watching my friends get drunk) and that convinced them. We would take the chance. We rode the circumvia to Napoli, then caught our inner city train to Rome at 10, which only cost €12. Lucky us!
Inner city trains are the ones that are entirely compartmentalized. We got into our compartment (5 of us and 6 seats), pulled the seats to the middle to make a flat bed, and all slept for 2 1/2 hours. It was a tight fit, but generally very comfy. When we got to Rome, Ken was proud of himself for "not taking a shower for four days and then sleeping with four beautiful women." They had actually gone to Rome intending to spend the day there, but up and decided to join us down south. None of them had even changed their clothes for three days!
I forgot to mention that I decided Saturday night that I had to wash my hair or I would go nuts So I took my 2 (or maybe 4) minute shower. Just being clean made me sleep so much better Saturday night. That was a major contributing factor to how good my day at Capri was.
Sunday morning as we were leaving Willie's, there was a donkey tied to the front gate, in the middle of the enormous flight of steps. It belonged to an Italian neighbor. I've never even seen a donkey before, I don't think, much less had to walk within a foot of one. It was quite funny.
So, Rome. What a funny discovery when we got off the train. We knew it was Roma Tibertina and not Termini, but what a shock for me when it looked familiar, and I realized it was the very station we accidentally got off at on Thursday night! There was still that row of homeless people sleeping, and various others lurking around. There was a grocery store that was closed, but had a little window open on the gate where you could ask the person inside to get something for you and buy it. Then there was a 24 hour coffee bar.
I swore I would never go back to Milan after that train station experience because I never thought I would be in a position to spend the night in a station again. This time it was actually a lot of fun. Ken and Kelly played cards, while Marty, Maari, and I tried to catch up journaling. We met a girl who was studying in Rome and going home to Chicago for spring break. The reason was because she had studied in Milan the previous semester. Her father was Italian, her mother was German, and her sister was a flight attendant. So traveling came easy to her. We also met a Portuguese girl who was studying in Paris and in Italy for spring break.
Late into the morning Kelly bought Maari a Kinder Egg, one of the 8-in ones, for a joke. She broke it and put the toy together, one of those race cars with a pressurized takeoff. None of us wanted to eat all that chocolate, so while Marty and Kelly raced the cars down next to the escalator, Maari passed out the chocolate to the homeless men. Monica, the Portuguese girl, was amazed. She said they weren't used to that and that it was really nice of Maari.
Despite the pleasant enjoyments we had, we were all very near the end of our energy ropes by six o'clock. Our good old Diretto came at 6:19 and we slept the 2 hours back to Castiglion Fiorentino. We got back at 8:38, the time I usually leave to go up to Arezzo. When we got up to Santa Chiara I took a shower then crashed until lunch.
Back to Saturday. While on the pier we talked about Amalfi. Dixie and Kate are both beach girls--they love the beach. I was thinking that maybe I'm just not a beach person because I just wasn't taking to Amalfi. The ocean made me extremely restless and I hadn't been to the beach since I was 3 or 4. But I think the reason I wasn't enjoying myself as much was because I was worrying about money and I wasn't comfortable with our hostel at that time. Later, "Willie's" became more of a joke, but I wasn't clean at the time, and was therefore uncomfortable. [clean, as in I hadn't showered, not that I was on drugs]
There's another thing about Amalfi. It's not even really a beach. The beach was tiny and not very sandy. The slope of the mountain went right on down to the water at most points, and the entire town felt very confining to me, confined by the mountains around it. Like it was being shoved into the ocean.
Later in the afternoon we went up the main road and into the shops. Kate and I split off so Dixie could check her email. We went up to the Duomo, a beautiful church with an interior of white and gold. I want a hall like that in my fantasy temple. On the way down the tall flight of steps, we saw a wedding celebration coming out into the square below. The bride and groom were dancing, people were blowing bubbles, etc. Later we found out that they were both American, but the families came over every year.
Tuesday, 4/15/03
So when we met Dixie we were standing in the square talking, when we saw a lady reading an English newspaper, sitting at the fountain. We had been keeping an eye out for newspapers for fresh news about the war. So I told Dixie to ask her where she got the paper. I don't know why I didn't ask her myself; we're just used to relying on Dixie because she speaks Italian.
Not only did she give us the front section of her Wall Street Journal, but she ended up showing us a few places where we could get some dinner. Her name was Suzanne and she lived in Italy, though she was originally from California and goes home to Atlanta every once in a while to visit her children, who live with their father.
So that's how we came to be in the wine restaurant Saturday night. Before we met Suzanne I had bought a sandwich to save for later, so by the time we got there I was too full to eat anything else or spend any more money. Suzanne told us we might see her there if we went, and we did! She was with an Italian man who we later found out was her fiance, the mayor of a neighboring town, and a marketer. His name was Giocanni (sp?). They invited us to sit at their table. Giocanni, when he found out Dixie was a marketing major, said he needed a business partner and that they should run a business together. As for architects, he said that Italy needed designers with more of a world perspective, because Italians take things so slow and discuss everything so much that nothing ever gets done.
Suzanne had an interesting background. I don't remember what her previous work had been in Italy, but now she was working on two books, one on something to do with MLK, and the other about some healing methods a doctor used. The two of them were looking at villas in Amalfi. They were nice enough to give us a ride back to Willie's after dinner.
When we got back to Willie's we found Marty and Maari in the kitchen, and they said that there was a train strike, so we couldn't get home on Sunday. That really upset me because I couldn't afford to stay another night. Marty was worried because she had 3 Italian quizzes on Monday morning. So until she could get a hold of her instructor, the plan was to go to Napoli Sunday evening and catch the first train running after 9pm to Rome, then the first train of the morning back to Castiglion.
Having the whole day of Sunday to hang out, we decided to go to Capri. I debated about the expense, but I didn't want to stay by myself. How glad I am that I did. Capri was by far the best part of the weekend, and what made it exceptional. We thought we would have to make a choice between Tiberius' palace and the Blue Grotto. I was for the palace because it was less expensive, and we would see more of the island that way. We decided to go for the palace and do other things if we had the time. Marco had said it was a 2 1/2 hour hike up there, but he's a leisurely man. Once we took the funiculare up to the real town of Capri, it was only a 45 minute walk up to the palace, Villa Jovis, it was called. It cost €2 to get in. It was a fascinating place, though in ruins. Tiberius was the Caesar during the time of Christ, and apparently he came to Capri for his health. His reign gave him a bad name, even though it was really his generals who were ruling from Rome and doing the cruel things. The funniest thing we saw was when we were walking down a path, suddenly two billy goats popped their heads over the wall above us. There were four or five of them climbing around in the ruins.
I knew I had left something out! Vick! Vick is a dog who picked us up about halfway to the palace and decided to be our tourguide. He was the friendliest dog I've ever known. Ken named him Victor Mancini after a character in some book (by the same author who wrote Fight Club). Apparently he was sort of a Silence of the Lambs-ish character.
Vick knew exactly how to get to the villa. He even showed us the restroom on the way up, where he proceeded to drink from the toilet. It was he who aroused the billy goats by barking. He even begged Marty for some water by nosing her bottle. He ate lunch with us at Tiberius' leap, a cliff edge where, according to legend, Tiberius threw his enemies over. We threw plenty of orange and lemon peels over.
Down at the bottom of the cliff we could see rocks just under the water that had an incredible green tint against the pure blue of the normal water.
Now that I felt I knew the island better, I felt a lot more comfortable going back to the shore and seeing the blue grotto. By that time Marty had found out they could take their quizzes on Tuesday, but by that time the hostel in Sorrento was full. Dixie and Kate had made reservations for that morning, but the rest of us were homeless for the night.
We paid €7 for the boat to the grotto, €4 for the rowboat in, and €4.10 to get in. We knew it would be really expensive, but we had heard tales of €20 or more, so we figured ourselves lucky. We were amazed at how small the entrance was. It was only about four feet above the water, and every minute or so a wave would all but fill the entrance, so the rowers had to be really careful and we had to get low down in the boat when we went inside.
In the larger boat on the way there, I was loving the sea spray, the taste on my lips, and running my hands through the water I could barely reach. The cliffs and small caves we passed were incredible. The water was so so blue, a deep dark blue. Not navy, but much darker than the sky. And I could see green in its ripples, reminding me of Monet's paintings of the sea. I love the Mediterranean!
Inside the Blue Grotto all we did was go around it, then back out. We were only in there for five minutes or less, but the beauty was worth every penny. The water glowed underneath like neon lights and the walls of the cave reflected the water.
Afterward, while we waited for Ken, Kelly and Kate, we walked out to a strip of big rocks on the shore and laid there. It was a little cold to try to get some sun, so I just found a flat rock and curled up with my hood over my head and relaxed, maybe slept for a few minutes. The sound of the waves filling the cavities of rock underneath me was exhilarating and calming at the same time. It was then that I wondered why I loved Capri so much more than Amalfi. To me, the sea at Capri was liberating, where at Amalfi it was suffocating. Maybe it's because there's something so much more dynamic about an island. The cliffs seemed to want to take off into the air, they were in an intense battle with the water. In Amalfi we were sandwiched between two large masses, the mainland and the sea, but Capri was fighting on my side, the cliffs cutting through the water, or the water cutting through the cliffs.
Finally, we took the hydrofoil back to Sorrento and I took one last photo of the silhouette of Capri with the white stream of water coming out of the back of the boat. The Sorrento shore was one straight cliff against the water. The town was actually pretty flat just beyond that. I really like Sorrento. There were tons of nice little ceramics and music box shops. It was a classy place.
When we split off from Kate and Dixie we went to the circumvia station to ask if there were any trains from Napoli to Rome, but the man at the ticket office said we would have to go to Napoli to find out. We didn't want to get stuck in Napoli if there wasn't. It's known as the armpit of Italy: hot, humid, and smelly, as well as dangerous and dirty. So Marty called Rachel and had her look up trains on the internet. There was a Eurostar after 9, which was supposed to be €10 more than a regular train. I told Marty that if we went to a club in Sorrento, we would end up spending more than the Eurostar anyway (I really didn't want to spend the night in a club, watching my friends get drunk) and that convinced them. We would take the chance. We rode the circumvia to Napoli, then caught our inner city train to Rome at 10, which only cost €12. Lucky us!
Inner city trains are the ones that are entirely compartmentalized. We got into our compartment (5 of us and 6 seats), pulled the seats to the middle to make a flat bed, and all slept for 2 1/2 hours. It was a tight fit, but generally very comfy. When we got to Rome, Ken was proud of himself for "not taking a shower for four days and then sleeping with four beautiful women." They had actually gone to Rome intending to spend the day there, but up and decided to join us down south. None of them had even changed their clothes for three days!
I forgot to mention that I decided Saturday night that I had to wash my hair or I would go nuts So I took my 2 (or maybe 4) minute shower. Just being clean made me sleep so much better Saturday night. That was a major contributing factor to how good my day at Capri was.
Sunday morning as we were leaving Willie's, there was a donkey tied to the front gate, in the middle of the enormous flight of steps. It belonged to an Italian neighbor. I've never even seen a donkey before, I don't think, much less had to walk within a foot of one. It was quite funny.
So, Rome. What a funny discovery when we got off the train. We knew it was Roma Tibertina and not Termini, but what a shock for me when it looked familiar, and I realized it was the very station we accidentally got off at on Thursday night! There was still that row of homeless people sleeping, and various others lurking around. There was a grocery store that was closed, but had a little window open on the gate where you could ask the person inside to get something for you and buy it. Then there was a 24 hour coffee bar.
I swore I would never go back to Milan after that train station experience because I never thought I would be in a position to spend the night in a station again. This time it was actually a lot of fun. Ken and Kelly played cards, while Marty, Maari, and I tried to catch up journaling. We met a girl who was studying in Rome and going home to Chicago for spring break. The reason was because she had studied in Milan the previous semester. Her father was Italian, her mother was German, and her sister was a flight attendant. So traveling came easy to her. We also met a Portuguese girl who was studying in Paris and in Italy for spring break.
Late into the morning Kelly bought Maari a Kinder Egg, one of the 8-in ones, for a joke. She broke it and put the toy together, one of those race cars with a pressurized takeoff. None of us wanted to eat all that chocolate, so while Marty and Kelly raced the cars down next to the escalator, Maari passed out the chocolate to the homeless men. Monica, the Portuguese girl, was amazed. She said they weren't used to that and that it was really nice of Maari.
Despite the pleasant enjoyments we had, we were all very near the end of our energy ropes by six o'clock. Our good old Diretto came at 6:19 and we slept the 2 hours back to Castiglion Fiorentino. We got back at 8:38, the time I usually leave to go up to Arezzo. When we got up to Santa Chiara I took a shower then crashed until lunch.
*********************************
I just had a long talk with Valerie. From the window of their living room we watched the KKK procession. Just kidding! Apparently, there is an Easter parade that's part of Italian culture, where the participants wear either white or black pointy hat with holes cut out for the eyes. I feel sacrilegious, but for most things I can look past the culture block. This though, the connotations are too strong in American culture not to be weirded out by it. And they were carrying burning candles and large crosses, four of them, as well as a statue of Jesus.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Pompeii on 2 hours sleep, and Willie's "Hostel" in Amalfi
Friday, 4/11/03
It's 4:30pm, we have just gone through Pompeii, and I'm running on a scattered hour and a half of sleep. Nevertheless, today has been a wonderful day and an adventurous night.
Dixie, Kate and I left Castiglion Fiorentino on the 10:22 train to Rome. Not far into the train ride an Italian guy opened the door of our box and started talking to Dixie. She tried to pretend she didn't know Italian and told him to go away, but he'd heard Kate and Dixie practicing Italian in the train station so he knew she spoke some. He kept asking if we were going to Rome and telling her he'd take her to a five star hotel. Then Kate started trying to tell him to go away, but he got mad. He ended up slamming the door, flipping Kate off, then banging on the window again. Dixie was really shaken. When the conductor walked by, we told him that the guy was bothering us, so he made him move to another car.
The rest of the time I sang Les Miserables songs to Dixie and Kate because they'd seen the show in London, as well as Phantom of the Opera. Then, while Dixie read a magazine, Kate and I sang every song from The Sound of Music, adding emotion with our arms. We even tried to go the gazebo bench dance on the seats, but there wasn't enough room (there wasn't anyone else in our car). Then we sang what we knew from Mary Poppins and then The Little Mermaid.
When we got to Rome we made a huge mistake. We thought the first stop in Rome was the central station so we got off and the train left, leaving us stranded on the outskirts of the city. There were a ton of homeless people asleep on the floor, and it was dirty and scary, so we caught a taxi to Roma Termini and wasted €4 each. At 1am they kicked us out of the Roma Termini, so we were on our own. We picked a random road, found a beautiful fountain, then continued down a long road until we happened to come to the wedding cake! [Monument of Vittorio Emanuele II] We were excited because we wanted to say we had spent the night in Michelangelo's piazza on Capitoline Hill. We got really comfortable at the foot of the statue at the top of the steps, right under the horse's behind, but after an hour or so it got a tad too chilly so we walked toward the forum, then eventually back to the train station. We had felt really safe in Michelangelo's piazza because there were police cars patrolling all over and were pretty much parked in the square.
Saturday, 4/12/03
My hands are numb because it's chilly and moist outside. At this moment we are in a wine bar, S. Nicola. It's a nice restaurant, but I'm not eating anything. I'm very full.
So yesterday morning at 4:30am we got back into the train station. There was a lady that also went in when we did. She was wearing tennis shoes and jeans, a scarf on her head, and a long black coat over what I assumed was her backpack. I didn't know immediately if she was homeless.
Monday, 4/14/03
2am--Roma Tibertine Station. Who would've thought I'd be back in this homeless shelter spending the night? Long story, but it's been one of the greatest memory-making weekends ever.
So, back to 4:30am on Friday. I immediately suspected that woman was following us. She didn't say anything, but just kept putting her sunglasses up and down. It was confirmed she was following us when we went downstairs to try to find a restroom, and she was two feet behind us. Dixie's mom called at that moment so we were moving rather slow. Finally, when we couldn't find an open restroom, Kate said, "Dixie, get off the phone. That lady is following us." Then the woman called Kate "Judith" and burst out with, "I WILL follow you." We paused for Dixie to put her phone away and the woman was in front of us, staring intensely at Kate's bag. I expected at any moment that she would grab Kate's wrist and start pulling on her.
We walked quickly to where there was a station worker on one of those little cars, and put a little distance between us and her, but she came waddling up and said, "Nice man. I WILL MURDER YOU. And it's your birthday." That really scared me and I think the worker got the picture from my look, so he called her, "Signora, Signora." She spoke promptly to him in fluent Italian and we ran up the stairs and got out of there. For the next 15 minutes we were peeking around corners to make sure she wasn't there. It really freaked me out when she spoke in English, but Kate figured she said the only phrases she knew. Later in Pompeii, Dixie and I argued about whether that woman or the guy on the train was scarier. She thought the guy, I thought the woman.
So we went into a cafe in the train station and hung out until our train to Napoli got there. We must have slept because I don't remember the trip. Unfortunately, the train didn't take us to central station, so we had to catch the circumvia to that station, then another one to Pompeii. I was surprised it was so close to Naples; it took us an hour to get there, but there was no break in the city between.
When we got off the train there was a strip of street vendors, some with the biggest lemons I've ever seen in my life. There were some about 5 or 6 inches in diameter. I bought a delicious tomato, mozzarella, and ham panino because I hadn't eaten at the train station. Then I bought a guidebook to Pompeii, because Valerie had told me it was better than getting an audio guide. The whole time I was looking through the book, I was thinking, "Am I going to be cheated by this?" But because I didn't have the brainpower for the decision, I went ahead and bought it.
Pompeii on 2 hours of sleep! We loved it. My guidebook turned out to be really useful; it had a map and descriptions of most of the buildings. At first we just randomly cruised through the forum, down to the theaters, and to the arena. By then, Dixie and Kate were hungry because they hadn't been smart like me and gotten panini. So then my map came in extremely handy, as we wanted to see the Garden of the Fugitives.
Break--Ken just said that he heard that "scaffolding is breathtaking in the morning sun." He wants to go see the Church of 2000 by Richard Meier, but it would be a huge hassle to get there, and we all pretty much want to go home at six in the morning.
Back to Pompeii. We took a long time to find where the "dead" people were, partially because we took detours to villas with beautiful gardens. The plaster casts in the Garden of the Fugitives were extremely small. I don't know if the people were really that small, or if somehow the plaster wore down. We were amazed when we could actually see the pelvis of a child sticking out through the plaster. So Dixie said that apparently Pompeii and Ercolano (Herculaneum) were sort of a "Sodom and Gomorrah," as evidenced by the postcards from the brothel, which I'm grateful we didn't make it to. Also, the streets of the city ran with water and trash. the people actually walked on higher sidewalks along the roads, and occasionally there was a big hump, a dam-like structure across the road for the people to cross. The horses and carts, I suppose, just had to walk through the sewage. We spent 4 1/2 hours in Pompeii, pretty good for 3 girls who didn't get any sleep the night before.
It took us 2 hours on the bus to get from Pompeii to Amalfi, even though it was just on the other side of a mountain. It took forever to wind up the mountain, then down the other side. When we got off the bus the owner of our "hostel" met us. His name is Willie. We found out a little late that he runs a kind of shady place. It's not "Willie's hostel", but we are "friends of Willie's". Legally we're not supposed to pay money to stay there because he doesn't have a license. Therefore, they don't have to pay the taxes. We rode the bus up the hill to the bottom of an enormous set of steps that probably added up to the same number as the lantern of St. Peter's.
I forgot to mention that Willie randomly talks to strangers on the street. That's how we found out about him, Alli and her crew had been staying near Amalfi earlier in the semester, had met Willie, and Dixie got the info from them. Willie is quite the entrepreneur. He just opened his own pub and encourages his "friends" to go there. He's originally from Manchester, England, supposedly moved to Italy 8 years ago (he claims he's 26, but looks a little older). His grandmother left him this house and he and his brothers have been running the hostel there. It's basically a bachelor pad. There's a kitchen where anyone can cook, two inside rooms with beds, then downstairs with an outside entrance, is the room where we stayed. No heat.
Next to us was "the dungeon" where Chris, Willie's brother, and the other people who work there sleep. It's called "the dungeon" because it has no door, only a curtain. There's one bathroom next to the kitchen, then a toilet outside the dungeon with just a shack of a wooden roof over it. The thing about the bath was that there was only 6 liters of hot water per day, so we were limited to 2-3 minute showers. In our beds we had clean sheets, or one clean sheet. No oversheet, just a big comforter, directly against us, and who knows how many people before. They were warm, though. Friday we kept in touch with Marty, Ken, Kelly, and Maari, who were in Rome and decided to come down too. They ended up sleeping in tents outside the house in the lemon grove.
Saturday morning I went out without my contacts to use the restroom, and nearly stepped on a rooster.
Even though Kate and Dixie didn't get up until noon, I had lain awake since 8am, feeling nasty and uncomfortable with my lack of privacy. It was cloudy outside on Saturday, had rained that morning, but was in the process of clearing up. The tent crew had left early to go to Pompeii, so we were on our own. I forgot to describe Friday night. Dixie and Kate went to the bar to wait for Marty's crew, but I stayed behind to catch up in my journal and go to sleep at a decent hour. I met a guy from Amarillo, Dan, and ended up talking to him for a really long time. He is studying at Cambridge and had a month off to travel before his finals. We just talked about random things. He was probably just wanting to talk to a friendly face. He had been backpacking alone for a few weeks.
Saturday the three of us girls sat on the pier for a couple of hours while the weather cleared. We talked to a guy who was also staying at Willie's with some girls. He woke up that morning with his head sticking mysteriously outside his tent.
It's 4:30pm, we have just gone through Pompeii, and I'm running on a scattered hour and a half of sleep. Nevertheless, today has been a wonderful day and an adventurous night.
Dixie, Kate and I left Castiglion Fiorentino on the 10:22 train to Rome. Not far into the train ride an Italian guy opened the door of our box and started talking to Dixie. She tried to pretend she didn't know Italian and told him to go away, but he'd heard Kate and Dixie practicing Italian in the train station so he knew she spoke some. He kept asking if we were going to Rome and telling her he'd take her to a five star hotel. Then Kate started trying to tell him to go away, but he got mad. He ended up slamming the door, flipping Kate off, then banging on the window again. Dixie was really shaken. When the conductor walked by, we told him that the guy was bothering us, so he made him move to another car.
The rest of the time I sang Les Miserables songs to Dixie and Kate because they'd seen the show in London, as well as Phantom of the Opera. Then, while Dixie read a magazine, Kate and I sang every song from The Sound of Music, adding emotion with our arms. We even tried to go the gazebo bench dance on the seats, but there wasn't enough room (there wasn't anyone else in our car). Then we sang what we knew from Mary Poppins and then The Little Mermaid.
When we got to Rome we made a huge mistake. We thought the first stop in Rome was the central station so we got off and the train left, leaving us stranded on the outskirts of the city. There were a ton of homeless people asleep on the floor, and it was dirty and scary, so we caught a taxi to Roma Termini and wasted €4 each. At 1am they kicked us out of the Roma Termini, so we were on our own. We picked a random road, found a beautiful fountain, then continued down a long road until we happened to come to the wedding cake! [Monument of Vittorio Emanuele II] We were excited because we wanted to say we had spent the night in Michelangelo's piazza on Capitoline Hill. We got really comfortable at the foot of the statue at the top of the steps, right under the horse's behind, but after an hour or so it got a tad too chilly so we walked toward the forum, then eventually back to the train station. We had felt really safe in Michelangelo's piazza because there were police cars patrolling all over and were pretty much parked in the square.
Saturday, 4/12/03
My hands are numb because it's chilly and moist outside. At this moment we are in a wine bar, S. Nicola. It's a nice restaurant, but I'm not eating anything. I'm very full.
So yesterday morning at 4:30am we got back into the train station. There was a lady that also went in when we did. She was wearing tennis shoes and jeans, a scarf on her head, and a long black coat over what I assumed was her backpack. I didn't know immediately if she was homeless.
Monday, 4/14/03
2am--Roma Tibertine Station. Who would've thought I'd be back in this homeless shelter spending the night? Long story, but it's been one of the greatest memory-making weekends ever.
So, back to 4:30am on Friday. I immediately suspected that woman was following us. She didn't say anything, but just kept putting her sunglasses up and down. It was confirmed she was following us when we went downstairs to try to find a restroom, and she was two feet behind us. Dixie's mom called at that moment so we were moving rather slow. Finally, when we couldn't find an open restroom, Kate said, "Dixie, get off the phone. That lady is following us." Then the woman called Kate "Judith" and burst out with, "I WILL follow you." We paused for Dixie to put her phone away and the woman was in front of us, staring intensely at Kate's bag. I expected at any moment that she would grab Kate's wrist and start pulling on her.
We walked quickly to where there was a station worker on one of those little cars, and put a little distance between us and her, but she came waddling up and said, "Nice man. I WILL MURDER YOU. And it's your birthday." That really scared me and I think the worker got the picture from my look, so he called her, "Signora, Signora." She spoke promptly to him in fluent Italian and we ran up the stairs and got out of there. For the next 15 minutes we were peeking around corners to make sure she wasn't there. It really freaked me out when she spoke in English, but Kate figured she said the only phrases she knew. Later in Pompeii, Dixie and I argued about whether that woman or the guy on the train was scarier. She thought the guy, I thought the woman.
So we went into a cafe in the train station and hung out until our train to Napoli got there. We must have slept because I don't remember the trip. Unfortunately, the train didn't take us to central station, so we had to catch the circumvia to that station, then another one to Pompeii. I was surprised it was so close to Naples; it took us an hour to get there, but there was no break in the city between.
When we got off the train there was a strip of street vendors, some with the biggest lemons I've ever seen in my life. There were some about 5 or 6 inches in diameter. I bought a delicious tomato, mozzarella, and ham panino because I hadn't eaten at the train station. Then I bought a guidebook to Pompeii, because Valerie had told me it was better than getting an audio guide. The whole time I was looking through the book, I was thinking, "Am I going to be cheated by this?" But because I didn't have the brainpower for the decision, I went ahead and bought it.
Pompeii on 2 hours of sleep! We loved it. My guidebook turned out to be really useful; it had a map and descriptions of most of the buildings. At first we just randomly cruised through the forum, down to the theaters, and to the arena. By then, Dixie and Kate were hungry because they hadn't been smart like me and gotten panini. So then my map came in extremely handy, as we wanted to see the Garden of the Fugitives.
Break--Ken just said that he heard that "scaffolding is breathtaking in the morning sun." He wants to go see the Church of 2000 by Richard Meier, but it would be a huge hassle to get there, and we all pretty much want to go home at six in the morning.
Back to Pompeii. We took a long time to find where the "dead" people were, partially because we took detours to villas with beautiful gardens. The plaster casts in the Garden of the Fugitives were extremely small. I don't know if the people were really that small, or if somehow the plaster wore down. We were amazed when we could actually see the pelvis of a child sticking out through the plaster. So Dixie said that apparently Pompeii and Ercolano (Herculaneum) were sort of a "Sodom and Gomorrah," as evidenced by the postcards from the brothel, which I'm grateful we didn't make it to. Also, the streets of the city ran with water and trash. the people actually walked on higher sidewalks along the roads, and occasionally there was a big hump, a dam-like structure across the road for the people to cross. The horses and carts, I suppose, just had to walk through the sewage. We spent 4 1/2 hours in Pompeii, pretty good for 3 girls who didn't get any sleep the night before.
It took us 2 hours on the bus to get from Pompeii to Amalfi, even though it was just on the other side of a mountain. It took forever to wind up the mountain, then down the other side. When we got off the bus the owner of our "hostel" met us. His name is Willie. We found out a little late that he runs a kind of shady place. It's not "Willie's hostel", but we are "friends of Willie's". Legally we're not supposed to pay money to stay there because he doesn't have a license. Therefore, they don't have to pay the taxes. We rode the bus up the hill to the bottom of an enormous set of steps that probably added up to the same number as the lantern of St. Peter's.
I forgot to mention that Willie randomly talks to strangers on the street. That's how we found out about him, Alli and her crew had been staying near Amalfi earlier in the semester, had met Willie, and Dixie got the info from them. Willie is quite the entrepreneur. He just opened his own pub and encourages his "friends" to go there. He's originally from Manchester, England, supposedly moved to Italy 8 years ago (he claims he's 26, but looks a little older). His grandmother left him this house and he and his brothers have been running the hostel there. It's basically a bachelor pad. There's a kitchen where anyone can cook, two inside rooms with beds, then downstairs with an outside entrance, is the room where we stayed. No heat.
Next to us was "the dungeon" where Chris, Willie's brother, and the other people who work there sleep. It's called "the dungeon" because it has no door, only a curtain. There's one bathroom next to the kitchen, then a toilet outside the dungeon with just a shack of a wooden roof over it. The thing about the bath was that there was only 6 liters of hot water per day, so we were limited to 2-3 minute showers. In our beds we had clean sheets, or one clean sheet. No oversheet, just a big comforter, directly against us, and who knows how many people before. They were warm, though. Friday we kept in touch with Marty, Ken, Kelly, and Maari, who were in Rome and decided to come down too. They ended up sleeping in tents outside the house in the lemon grove.
Saturday morning I went out without my contacts to use the restroom, and nearly stepped on a rooster.
Even though Kate and Dixie didn't get up until noon, I had lain awake since 8am, feeling nasty and uncomfortable with my lack of privacy. It was cloudy outside on Saturday, had rained that morning, but was in the process of clearing up. The tent crew had left early to go to Pompeii, so we were on our own. I forgot to describe Friday night. Dixie and Kate went to the bar to wait for Marty's crew, but I stayed behind to catch up in my journal and go to sleep at a decent hour. I met a guy from Amarillo, Dan, and ended up talking to him for a really long time. He is studying at Cambridge and had a month off to travel before his finals. We just talked about random things. He was probably just wanting to talk to a friendly face. He had been backpacking alone for a few weeks.
Saturday the three of us girls sat on the pier for a couple of hours while the weather cleared. We talked to a guy who was also staying at Willie's with some girls. He woke up that morning with his head sticking mysteriously outside his tent.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
A seven course meal in Pienza, and a really wacky dream
Wednesday, 4/9/03
Today has been a good, full day! We went to Montepulciano and Pienza. We first went to a renaissance church outside Montepulciano, then walked up a long hill to the city center. Valerie, Carmen and I walked into the cathedral, which was completely covered on the front with scaffolding. Carmen was doing her thing at one of the side altars and Valerie and I stood in the center. ---- was lighting a candle and from behind her the light was shining through her frizzy hair so it looked like she had a halo.
Next we went to a winery, looked at all the barrels, then half of us waited for what seemed like forever while everyone else was buying wine.
In Pienza we didn't have time to go into the palace as a group, but went to eat lunch first at this nice restaurant. We had a SEVEN course meal! First was the typical bread. I ate several pieces because it was soft and some of it was actually warm! Next they served toasted bread with weird pasty stuff on it. One tasted meaty and one tasted fishy. I think it might have even been sardines, but it was pretty nasty. Then we had this absolutely delicious pasta, homemade pasta because it was soft and thick, with meat sauce. Next we had gnocchi, a hybrid of pasta and potatoes in ball form, with cheese sauce on top. It was good at first, but it was so mushy I felt like it would expand in my stomach like cookie dough. And it tasted so blah, like, make up your mind to be pasta or potato. [gnocchi is now something I never pass up at an Italian restaurant] Next we had french fries (chips) and salad, then by the time the meat got there we were all stuffed. Finally, there was cake. I ate the top of mine, but the bottom was soaked in liquor.
During dinner the peace demonstrations came up, and one guy got really heated, saying that we didn't understand anarchy. What is there to understand about anarchy?
Another funny thing that happened was that Dixie was talking when the waiter handed out the dessert forks, and he just held hers out for several seconds until I finally took it and put it down in front of her. Then, half a minute later, I was trying to talk to Dixie until I realized that she had grabbed my fork and put it on the table!
After lunch I made several people laugh by telling them Cady's sock story. Sunday night Cady's socks came off her feet while she was sleeping and one got lodged in her pants. The next morning she didn't realize her sock had fallen in the toilet until she had already peed on it!
After lunch we all kind of strolled around town for an hour. Some bought spices, pasta, etc. I saw some really beautiful tiles. Just before dinner Kate, Dixie and I went to the travel agent in town and got a great deal to get to Napoli--€19.47 when it's supposed to be €30! We are excited. The only problem is that we couldn't get a sleeper train, so we have to hang out in Rome for 4 hours in the middle of the night and only get about 4 hours sleep on the trains.
Thursday, 4/10/03
I'm sitting at the table. It's five minutes until lunch. I had the most bizarre dream last night, possibly the most bizarre I have ever had in my life. At least my terrorist dream in middle school made logical sense. And my flying dreams are always like black comedies. They're wonderful and fun, yet scary at the same time because someone is always chasing me.
My dream began when Karin, Cady and I were renting a huge old mansion for only $200 a month. It was an old stone villa with a central hall lined with round columns. The narrower side halls had dark oak doors to the private rooms. We were showing the house to people so we could sublease some of the rooms. I suggested to Cady that we give each family two rooms, or even an entire wind and charge them $200. Then we could have some extra money and we had to keep the number of people in the house to a minimum as there was only one kitchen. In the wing to the left of the central hall, on the ground floor, an elderly couple was moving in. They had two connecting rooms but the one at the end of the hall I knew contained the belongings of Karin's late aunt.
Karin was lounging in the main living room, so I went into that bedroom at the end of the hall to have a look. It looked very cheery; it was clean and in pastel colors. There were several sweaters and other clothing folded and in stacks on a table by the window. I went over to them and just put my hands down on a light blue cardigan. Immediately it was as if a wind had blown under the sweater, for it rose up in a sort of wave, then started unbuttoning and spinning in the air. The other clothing began to rise, as well. I ran to the living room in alarm and told Karin what was happening. She jumped up off the crimson sofa in the lamp lit room, and ran back down the hall, yelling, "You weren't supposed to touch the clothes! If you touch them they come alive!"
I followed her and somehow she got the sweaters to calm down, but I, still scared, prayed that anything evil would leave the room. I opened my eyes and the white table was completely bare. The sweaters were gone. Then I kneeled down to get an album from the shelves under the table. There were pictures of many buildings, but every photo that had contained people had vanished.
Karin and I next went to the elderly couple's room to help the wife move her things. She was concerned because she sensed that something was wrong. I assured her that everything was alright, but while we were in the room I asked Karin how her aunt had died. I don't remember exactly what she said, but I got the image of her uncle and a severed head.
Later, we were in the main hall. The grand staircase was on the back wall and in the middle of the room was a single pillar serving no purpose but as a monument. The stone of all was of a green tint. I still felt uneasy, though Karin said there was nothing to worry about. We were talking to an Asian man about the possibility of his family moving in, when suddenly the central pillar toppled over, scooped Karin up from between her legs like she was riding a horse, and started flying around the room with her holding on for dear life, and in sheer terror. Somehow, I knew the pillar was possessed with the spirit of her aunt. The pillar came near the floor and I tried to grab Karin, but to no avail. Finally, I again prayed to please send the evil away.
The pillar vanished, but so also did the entire house! Karin was returned to the ground, but we were all sitting on a deserted square in the middle of a city. Tufts of grass were growing around us; we were in the remains of an old foundation. In front of us was the square base that the column had been mounted on.
Today has been a good, full day! We went to Montepulciano and Pienza. We first went to a renaissance church outside Montepulciano, then walked up a long hill to the city center. Valerie, Carmen and I walked into the cathedral, which was completely covered on the front with scaffolding. Carmen was doing her thing at one of the side altars and Valerie and I stood in the center. ---- was lighting a candle and from behind her the light was shining through her frizzy hair so it looked like she had a halo.
Next we went to a winery, looked at all the barrels, then half of us waited for what seemed like forever while everyone else was buying wine.
In Pienza we didn't have time to go into the palace as a group, but went to eat lunch first at this nice restaurant. We had a SEVEN course meal! First was the typical bread. I ate several pieces because it was soft and some of it was actually warm! Next they served toasted bread with weird pasty stuff on it. One tasted meaty and one tasted fishy. I think it might have even been sardines, but it was pretty nasty. Then we had this absolutely delicious pasta, homemade pasta because it was soft and thick, with meat sauce. Next we had gnocchi, a hybrid of pasta and potatoes in ball form, with cheese sauce on top. It was good at first, but it was so mushy I felt like it would expand in my stomach like cookie dough. And it tasted so blah, like, make up your mind to be pasta or potato. [gnocchi is now something I never pass up at an Italian restaurant] Next we had french fries (chips) and salad, then by the time the meat got there we were all stuffed. Finally, there was cake. I ate the top of mine, but the bottom was soaked in liquor.
During dinner the peace demonstrations came up, and one guy got really heated, saying that we didn't understand anarchy. What is there to understand about anarchy?
Another funny thing that happened was that Dixie was talking when the waiter handed out the dessert forks, and he just held hers out for several seconds until I finally took it and put it down in front of her. Then, half a minute later, I was trying to talk to Dixie until I realized that she had grabbed my fork and put it on the table!
After lunch I made several people laugh by telling them Cady's sock story. Sunday night Cady's socks came off her feet while she was sleeping and one got lodged in her pants. The next morning she didn't realize her sock had fallen in the toilet until she had already peed on it!
After lunch we all kind of strolled around town for an hour. Some bought spices, pasta, etc. I saw some really beautiful tiles. Just before dinner Kate, Dixie and I went to the travel agent in town and got a great deal to get to Napoli--€19.47 when it's supposed to be €30! We are excited. The only problem is that we couldn't get a sleeper train, so we have to hang out in Rome for 4 hours in the middle of the night and only get about 4 hours sleep on the trains.
Thursday, 4/10/03
I'm sitting at the table. It's five minutes until lunch. I had the most bizarre dream last night, possibly the most bizarre I have ever had in my life. At least my terrorist dream in middle school made logical sense. And my flying dreams are always like black comedies. They're wonderful and fun, yet scary at the same time because someone is always chasing me.
My dream began when Karin, Cady and I were renting a huge old mansion for only $200 a month. It was an old stone villa with a central hall lined with round columns. The narrower side halls had dark oak doors to the private rooms. We were showing the house to people so we could sublease some of the rooms. I suggested to Cady that we give each family two rooms, or even an entire wind and charge them $200. Then we could have some extra money and we had to keep the number of people in the house to a minimum as there was only one kitchen. In the wing to the left of the central hall, on the ground floor, an elderly couple was moving in. They had two connecting rooms but the one at the end of the hall I knew contained the belongings of Karin's late aunt.
Karin was lounging in the main living room, so I went into that bedroom at the end of the hall to have a look. It looked very cheery; it was clean and in pastel colors. There were several sweaters and other clothing folded and in stacks on a table by the window. I went over to them and just put my hands down on a light blue cardigan. Immediately it was as if a wind had blown under the sweater, for it rose up in a sort of wave, then started unbuttoning and spinning in the air. The other clothing began to rise, as well. I ran to the living room in alarm and told Karin what was happening. She jumped up off the crimson sofa in the lamp lit room, and ran back down the hall, yelling, "You weren't supposed to touch the clothes! If you touch them they come alive!"
I followed her and somehow she got the sweaters to calm down, but I, still scared, prayed that anything evil would leave the room. I opened my eyes and the white table was completely bare. The sweaters were gone. Then I kneeled down to get an album from the shelves under the table. There were pictures of many buildings, but every photo that had contained people had vanished.
Karin and I next went to the elderly couple's room to help the wife move her things. She was concerned because she sensed that something was wrong. I assured her that everything was alright, but while we were in the room I asked Karin how her aunt had died. I don't remember exactly what she said, but I got the image of her uncle and a severed head.
Later, we were in the main hall. The grand staircase was on the back wall and in the middle of the room was a single pillar serving no purpose but as a monument. The stone of all was of a green tint. I still felt uneasy, though Karin said there was nothing to worry about. We were talking to an Asian man about the possibility of his family moving in, when suddenly the central pillar toppled over, scooped Karin up from between her legs like she was riding a horse, and started flying around the room with her holding on for dear life, and in sheer terror. Somehow, I knew the pillar was possessed with the spirit of her aunt. The pillar came near the floor and I tried to grab Karin, but to no avail. Finally, I again prayed to please send the evil away.
The pillar vanished, but so also did the entire house! Karin was returned to the ground, but we were all sitting on a deserted square in the middle of a city. Tufts of grass were growing around us; we were in the remains of an old foundation. In front of us was the square base that the column had been mounted on.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A snow storm, and random fun with friends
Tuesday, 4/8/03
One thing I didn't write about that happened Sunday night was that our inner city train was mysteriously taking a long time in Firenze and so I missed my connecting train in Arezzo by five minutes. It was the last train of the evening. The Elders were going to have to call a member with a car to take me home, or I would have to get a taxi, which would have been horrendously expensive. But, joy of joys, there happened to be a Firenze-Roma direct that was 50 minutes late, when Italian trains are rarely late. So I caught that train.
We just had a wonderful lecture by Marco about Leonardo. It makes me want to study everything he did. My patriarchal blessing says to learn all I can about the creation on which I reside, but to couple that knowledge with the principles of eternity. I'm so fascinated by, and really want to learn more about how proportions relate to each other in all areas of nature.
I forgot to mention that Anziano Cascone, in Sicily, grew up less than 100km from the most active Volcano of the world [Mount Etna].
Yesterday was a pretty good day. I woke up, didn't want to do anything, so I read "Cousin Mattie" in my fairy tales book. Somehow I misunderstood the Scottish dialect at the end and just didn't understand how she had died. I was very upset. I told Karin about it then read the ending again after she left. I got it, but it disturbed me even more then. What a tragic story in every way! It was beautiful but extremely sad.
So I didn't want to go to studio, but I went anyway. During those four hours I got so frustrated with a model I was supposed to build that I wanted to explode. But that wasn't until the end. But good things that happened in studio! I forgot to mention that it was frozen when I got back from Prato on Sunday. The only reason I wanted to believe it was that cold was because I felt droplets out of the sky that were not rain. It was either sleet or snow, but they were so tiny and far in between that I didn't take the frozen mental power to figure out which.
It was just as cold the next afternoon and continued to drop while our hands were going numb in the studio. About halfway through, someone looked out the window and we discovered a snow storm heading our way. It was so neat looking. To the north a deep valley between two mountains we just saw a thick white blur. Our studio has a great view. Finally it did start snowing in big, fluffy flakes around us, but not for long. The funniest thing was that Ken came up behind me and Kate at the window and said, "It's snowing? Now I have to go buy postcards!" We laughed our heads off at how he didn't communicate the connection very clearly. He was going to write postcards that night, but wanted to buy them before the storm got bad.
After studio Karin and Jenna Dee were sitting in the room reviewing for the test we were supposed to have this morning so I joined them. Then Cady and Edit came in too. We had fun helping Karin and Edit differentiate between the eras. Cady is by far the most knowledgeable about art history. It's beyond me how she can retain so much information.
At dinner I sat with Carmen, Karin, Morgan, Rebekah, Valerie, Kate, and Edit. Karin, Kate, and Edit are a great combination for laughter. Last week one time they were all sitting on one side of the table wearing red shirts. We didn't even realize that until later. But we were served ice cream sandwiches with our fortunes on them. I asked Dixie to tell me what mine said because it was in Italian, but she could only make out that it said something about the Beatles song "Yesterday", one of my favorites. So the three in the red shirts promptly sang the song. I joined, but no one noticed because I wasn't as loud. It was hilarious when the cafeteria got quiet.
Last night they randomly started singing again. Rebekah didn't stick around too long, and Valerie was embarrassed. I was only embarrassed when they sang the Titanic song. That is just not an A cappella song. But I joined in for "I Will Survive". In the middle of it Dr. R got up to make an announcement. The second he sat down, Edit said "One, Two, Three," and we broke out again. I never laugh so much as when I'm with that group.
After dinner we finished our study group (I distracted a lot of people by passing around my Lord of the Rings magazine) and Kate took the goddess test. Sometime during the first week back from Spring Break Cady found a test in the back of Karin's book to see which goddess you are. Valerie was in our room at the time (Karin was in the dining hall trying to write six papers) so the three of us took it. It was a lot longer than we anticipated, taking 30 minutes or more. Cady and Valerie were both definite Aphrodites, but I was Artemis, with Hera one point behind. If I wanted to choose one I would be Athena, but I'm okay. Artemis is my wild side that isn't immediately manifest in all company, and Hera, besides being the goddess of power, is for upholding family values. Karin took it later and she is Athena and Demeter, which fits her exactly. Brains and caregiver. Kate was upset when she ended up being Aphrodite, as well.
After that I went to Kate and Morgan's room. Morgan was on the phone, so Kate told me all about her fantasies of being a famous actress who dated, chronologically, Elijah Wood, Heath Ledger, Orlando Bloom, then Prince William. She even wrote in her journal like it really happened. I laughed so much. I felt special because she trusted me enough to know I wouldn't think she was crazy.
There's a dog up the street that Cady wants to kill because it always barks when she's trying to sleep. Just now the three of us were reading funny journal entries out loud. Cady told someone over the phone that she bought stamps at the tobbacci, and he said, "You bought stamps from an Iraqi?" We laughed good and long about that.
Today at dinner I asked Karin if she was an animagus, what animal would she want to be. She said lion. That started Edit telling everyone what she saw them as. I would want to be an eagle, but Edit told me I was a gopher. She is wrong. Marie was either a horse or a dog, a golden retriever. Edit was definitely a cat. Last night she sang several versions of "I Will Survive," first as a cat, then a chicken, cow, and dog. Crystal was a deer first, then a goat. Carmen wanted to be a dolphin but Edit thought she was a rabbit. Valerie was a panda. It was a lot of fun!
One thing I didn't write about that happened Sunday night was that our inner city train was mysteriously taking a long time in Firenze and so I missed my connecting train in Arezzo by five minutes. It was the last train of the evening. The Elders were going to have to call a member with a car to take me home, or I would have to get a taxi, which would have been horrendously expensive. But, joy of joys, there happened to be a Firenze-Roma direct that was 50 minutes late, when Italian trains are rarely late. So I caught that train.
We just had a wonderful lecture by Marco about Leonardo. It makes me want to study everything he did. My patriarchal blessing says to learn all I can about the creation on which I reside, but to couple that knowledge with the principles of eternity. I'm so fascinated by, and really want to learn more about how proportions relate to each other in all areas of nature.
I forgot to mention that Anziano Cascone, in Sicily, grew up less than 100km from the most active Volcano of the world [Mount Etna].
Yesterday was a pretty good day. I woke up, didn't want to do anything, so I read "Cousin Mattie" in my fairy tales book. Somehow I misunderstood the Scottish dialect at the end and just didn't understand how she had died. I was very upset. I told Karin about it then read the ending again after she left. I got it, but it disturbed me even more then. What a tragic story in every way! It was beautiful but extremely sad.
So I didn't want to go to studio, but I went anyway. During those four hours I got so frustrated with a model I was supposed to build that I wanted to explode. But that wasn't until the end. But good things that happened in studio! I forgot to mention that it was frozen when I got back from Prato on Sunday. The only reason I wanted to believe it was that cold was because I felt droplets out of the sky that were not rain. It was either sleet or snow, but they were so tiny and far in between that I didn't take the frozen mental power to figure out which.
It was just as cold the next afternoon and continued to drop while our hands were going numb in the studio. About halfway through, someone looked out the window and we discovered a snow storm heading our way. It was so neat looking. To the north a deep valley between two mountains we just saw a thick white blur. Our studio has a great view. Finally it did start snowing in big, fluffy flakes around us, but not for long. The funniest thing was that Ken came up behind me and Kate at the window and said, "It's snowing? Now I have to go buy postcards!" We laughed our heads off at how he didn't communicate the connection very clearly. He was going to write postcards that night, but wanted to buy them before the storm got bad.
After studio Karin and Jenna Dee were sitting in the room reviewing for the test we were supposed to have this morning so I joined them. Then Cady and Edit came in too. We had fun helping Karin and Edit differentiate between the eras. Cady is by far the most knowledgeable about art history. It's beyond me how she can retain so much information.
At dinner I sat with Carmen, Karin, Morgan, Rebekah, Valerie, Kate, and Edit. Karin, Kate, and Edit are a great combination for laughter. Last week one time they were all sitting on one side of the table wearing red shirts. We didn't even realize that until later. But we were served ice cream sandwiches with our fortunes on them. I asked Dixie to tell me what mine said because it was in Italian, but she could only make out that it said something about the Beatles song "Yesterday", one of my favorites. So the three in the red shirts promptly sang the song. I joined, but no one noticed because I wasn't as loud. It was hilarious when the cafeteria got quiet.
Last night they randomly started singing again. Rebekah didn't stick around too long, and Valerie was embarrassed. I was only embarrassed when they sang the Titanic song. That is just not an A cappella song. But I joined in for "I Will Survive". In the middle of it Dr. R got up to make an announcement. The second he sat down, Edit said "One, Two, Three," and we broke out again. I never laugh so much as when I'm with that group.
After dinner we finished our study group (I distracted a lot of people by passing around my Lord of the Rings magazine) and Kate took the goddess test. Sometime during the first week back from Spring Break Cady found a test in the back of Karin's book to see which goddess you are. Valerie was in our room at the time (Karin was in the dining hall trying to write six papers) so the three of us took it. It was a lot longer than we anticipated, taking 30 minutes or more. Cady and Valerie were both definite Aphrodites, but I was Artemis, with Hera one point behind. If I wanted to choose one I would be Athena, but I'm okay. Artemis is my wild side that isn't immediately manifest in all company, and Hera, besides being the goddess of power, is for upholding family values. Karin took it later and she is Athena and Demeter, which fits her exactly. Brains and caregiver. Kate was upset when she ended up being Aphrodite, as well.
After that I went to Kate and Morgan's room. Morgan was on the phone, so Kate told me all about her fantasies of being a famous actress who dated, chronologically, Elijah Wood, Heath Ledger, Orlando Bloom, then Prince William. She even wrote in her journal like it really happened. I laughed so much. I felt special because she trusted me enough to know I wouldn't think she was crazy.
There's a dog up the street that Cady wants to kill because it always barks when she's trying to sleep. Just now the three of us were reading funny journal entries out loud. Cady told someone over the phone that she bought stamps at the tobbacci, and he said, "You bought stamps from an Iraqi?" We laughed good and long about that.
Today at dinner I asked Karin if she was an animagus, what animal would she want to be. She said lion. That started Edit telling everyone what she saw them as. I would want to be an eagle, but Edit told me I was a gopher. She is wrong. Marie was either a horse or a dog, a golden retriever. Edit was definitely a cat. Last night she sang several versions of "I Will Survive," first as a cat, then a chicken, cow, and dog. Crystal was a deer first, then a goat. Carmen wanted to be a dolphin but Edit thought she was a rabbit. Valerie was a panda. It was a lot of fun!
Monday, February 21, 2011
Randomness and General Conference
Friday, 4/4/03
Today I'm going on a diet for the rest of the semester. I'll continue to buy no more chocolate, which is good because I have no money. I'll eat only one piece of bread at each meal, and no seconds. I'll be happy if my stomach growls because I'm sure I've stretched it so much with these huge meals that it needs a little shrinking. I will not get snacks at the Co-op, also good because of my limited budget.
I can't believe this. I'm sitting in the TV lounge with Carmen and Valerie, watching Ever After. This movie is so cheesy but I love it anyway.
It's a windy day and very cool. I love weather like this, but I can't be outside too long. One of these afternoons I'm going to spend entirely in the courtyard of Santa Chiara. After Ever After I spent an hour in the studio, finishing my step model.
Saturday, 4/5/03
This morning I woke up at 11 and freaked out because I'd forgotten to call the Elders about General Conference yesterday, and I realized that they were going to Prato today for the Saturday sessions. Thank goodness it doesn't start until 7pm in Italy. I got a hold of Anziano Cascone and they'll meet me at the Prato train station tomorrow.
I hung out with Valerie for a while, at lunch at L'ignorante, and I'm back in my room now. Today is windy but sunny. It's nice outside but the wind is a tad too cool for me to want to lounge outside. I'm a real wimp when it comes to cold.
We're playing Spades and so far have come negative at every bid!
I just went nil and we're back in the positive!
One of Cady's favorite phrases, besides "Diva" (when she burps) is "HOLY CRAPPAGE!!"
Sunday, 5/6/03
I miss English hymns so much, and I'm upset that the choir is singing "If You Could Hie to Kolob" now, but the tune is different, and not half as beautiful. That hymn is so seldom sung that it could at least be performed with its original tune.
I am heartily angry at myself. I got so tired during that session that I spent almost the whole time trying to stay awake by daydreaming. And there's nowhere here where I could sleep comfortably for an hour. But I'm so determined to listen to the entire next session. I'll have to keep my jacket off and be cold so I can pay attention. I hate being tired so much because It's hard for me to be sociable with people I don't know, especially when I have to put forth a lot of effort to communicate with people. My brain doesn't work right.
One neat thing did happen, though. One of the missionaries here is the brother of someone I knew briefly in College Station.
[a bunch of angsty questioning]
I loved conference! I'm on the train home with Anziano Cascone, his companion whose name I can't remember (Waite), and a sister whose name I can't remember (Guilianna).
Today I'm going on a diet for the rest of the semester. I'll continue to buy no more chocolate, which is good because I have no money. I'll eat only one piece of bread at each meal, and no seconds. I'll be happy if my stomach growls because I'm sure I've stretched it so much with these huge meals that it needs a little shrinking. I will not get snacks at the Co-op, also good because of my limited budget.
I can't believe this. I'm sitting in the TV lounge with Carmen and Valerie, watching Ever After. This movie is so cheesy but I love it anyway.
It's a windy day and very cool. I love weather like this, but I can't be outside too long. One of these afternoons I'm going to spend entirely in the courtyard of Santa Chiara. After Ever After I spent an hour in the studio, finishing my step model.
Saturday, 4/5/03
This morning I woke up at 11 and freaked out because I'd forgotten to call the Elders about General Conference yesterday, and I realized that they were going to Prato today for the Saturday sessions. Thank goodness it doesn't start until 7pm in Italy. I got a hold of Anziano Cascone and they'll meet me at the Prato train station tomorrow.
I hung out with Valerie for a while, at lunch at L'ignorante, and I'm back in my room now. Today is windy but sunny. It's nice outside but the wind is a tad too cool for me to want to lounge outside. I'm a real wimp when it comes to cold.
We're playing Spades and so far have come negative at every bid!
I just went nil and we're back in the positive!
One of Cady's favorite phrases, besides "Diva" (when she burps) is "HOLY CRAPPAGE!!"
Sunday, 5/6/03
I miss English hymns so much, and I'm upset that the choir is singing "If You Could Hie to Kolob" now, but the tune is different, and not half as beautiful. That hymn is so seldom sung that it could at least be performed with its original tune.
I am heartily angry at myself. I got so tired during that session that I spent almost the whole time trying to stay awake by daydreaming. And there's nowhere here where I could sleep comfortably for an hour. But I'm so determined to listen to the entire next session. I'll have to keep my jacket off and be cold so I can pay attention. I hate being tired so much because It's hard for me to be sociable with people I don't know, especially when I have to put forth a lot of effort to communicate with people. My brain doesn't work right.
One neat thing did happen, though. One of the missionaries here is the brother of someone I knew briefly in College Station.
[a bunch of angsty questioning]
I loved conference! I'm on the train home with Anziano Cascone, his companion whose name I can't remember (Waite), and a sister whose name I can't remember (Guilianna).
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Florence: Accademia and Uffizi
4/2/08
Today has been a very full day. But first I must write about what happened last night. The town put on a flag show at 9:30 in the square between Santa Chiara and the church. Three groups of drummers and flag throwers and people in medieval costumes marched into the square one by one. First was the group dressed like Romans with the Roman flag, then the Florentines, then for Castiglion Fiorentino. They took turns putting on flag shows with drum cadences. They threw the flags really high, higher than the columns of the church, and one man juggled five flags at once.
Today we came to Florence for the last time. We visited the Accademia and Uffizi museums.
Thursday, 4/3/03
The Accademia had a plain, nondescript exterior. The museum itself wasn't very large, either. There was the grand room with many religious paintings, which I'm at a loss to discover how they can be of interest to me. In the center was the sculpture of the Rape of the Sabine. I actually like the copy outside the Uffizi better. The real thing seems really crudely finished compared to the polished copy.
The most important room in the Accademia was Michelangelo's room which, of course had the David, as well as his four marble-bound slaves. The David looks a ton better up close and looking up, than from down a hall. Michelangelo designed his proportions so they would look perfect when he was standing on a forty foot pedestal, so from looking straight on his legs look so scrawny and his hips like a child's. I finally realized yesterday why the David looked so familiar to me even though I never knew what it was before I came to Italy. I'm positive that Disney modeled Hercules after him. The hair, the face, everything matches.
I actually liked Michelangelo's slaves better, though. At first glance they looked like unfinished sculptures. But Marco talked about how the purpose was that they are figures trying to break out of the marble, and Michelangelo knew exactly when to stop, exactly when enough of the human form was exposed. This was a revolutionary idea of his, and that's why those sculptures are more important than the David, even though he's so revered. Another interesting room was full of plaster models for marble sculptures. I saw the plaster model of L'inconsolible, a statue I saw and loved at the cemetery in Pisa.
After the Accademia we broke for lunch and I went with Morgan to McDonalds (I don't know why she likes to eat there so much). On the way we passed through a market and I got Dad a tie with a pattern of the flower symbol for Florence. Finally we went to the Uffizi. Ouside in the narrow square that it wrapped around, among the columns were several painted men. Two were white and one was gold. They were almost completely still, holding expressions on their faces (happy or sad, depending on whether they were getting money in their hats) and sometimes people took pictures with them.
Inside the Uffizi, Marco took us on a Gothic religious art tour. We saw some Giotto as well as others like Martini, whose Mary I found interesting.
I write, erase, rewrite
Erase again, and then,
A poppy blooms.
A swirling snowflake
Going round and round
Falls from the sky
~~12 year old girl
These are a couple of Haiku's from Dr. R's presentation which I'm at this moment.
The room we were all excited to see in the Uffizi was the Botticelli room with the Primavera and the Birth of Venus. Those were beautiful. I really like his style. I suppose the art I like is Renaissance through modern. But my favorite Botticelli, though I don't know why, was Pallas and the Centaur.
Another highlight of the Uffizi was two paintings by Caravaggio. I really love his because of their radiant highlights while the rest is dark. From what I gather, he was one of the first to experiment with light in the extreme.
We got caught in our first Italian rain shower! Apparently it's stormy all over Italy right now. When Kate an I were in the train station waiting for the train home I found a mouse pad with the David's head on it. I'm going to give it to my brother! 3 down, 3 to go. I have to buy little cheesy gifts for my family because I have no money.
This morning I was in a somber but not depressed mood. Maybe it was the rainy day, maybe it was the time of the month, maybe it was because I didn't get to the studio (I read Scottish fairy tales instead). I hardly said a word at lunch. I didn't feel bad, I just felt nothing. I was in a rare nothing mood. It was the same in studio. But Kate really cheered me up by the end. She talked about funny things and even gave me a hug. And Omar and Chase keep teasing me about having a mean streak. Of course I like the attention.
Today has been a very full day. But first I must write about what happened last night. The town put on a flag show at 9:30 in the square between Santa Chiara and the church. Three groups of drummers and flag throwers and people in medieval costumes marched into the square one by one. First was the group dressed like Romans with the Roman flag, then the Florentines, then for Castiglion Fiorentino. They took turns putting on flag shows with drum cadences. They threw the flags really high, higher than the columns of the church, and one man juggled five flags at once.
Today we came to Florence for the last time. We visited the Accademia and Uffizi museums.
Thursday, 4/3/03
The Accademia had a plain, nondescript exterior. The museum itself wasn't very large, either. There was the grand room with many religious paintings, which I'm at a loss to discover how they can be of interest to me. In the center was the sculpture of the Rape of the Sabine. I actually like the copy outside the Uffizi better. The real thing seems really crudely finished compared to the polished copy.
The most important room in the Accademia was Michelangelo's room which, of course had the David, as well as his four marble-bound slaves. The David looks a ton better up close and looking up, than from down a hall. Michelangelo designed his proportions so they would look perfect when he was standing on a forty foot pedestal, so from looking straight on his legs look so scrawny and his hips like a child's. I finally realized yesterday why the David looked so familiar to me even though I never knew what it was before I came to Italy. I'm positive that Disney modeled Hercules after him. The hair, the face, everything matches.
I actually liked Michelangelo's slaves better, though. At first glance they looked like unfinished sculptures. But Marco talked about how the purpose was that they are figures trying to break out of the marble, and Michelangelo knew exactly when to stop, exactly when enough of the human form was exposed. This was a revolutionary idea of his, and that's why those sculptures are more important than the David, even though he's so revered. Another interesting room was full of plaster models for marble sculptures. I saw the plaster model of L'inconsolible, a statue I saw and loved at the cemetery in Pisa.
After the Accademia we broke for lunch and I went with Morgan to McDonalds (I don't know why she likes to eat there so much). On the way we passed through a market and I got Dad a tie with a pattern of the flower symbol for Florence. Finally we went to the Uffizi. Ouside in the narrow square that it wrapped around, among the columns were several painted men. Two were white and one was gold. They were almost completely still, holding expressions on their faces (happy or sad, depending on whether they were getting money in their hats) and sometimes people took pictures with them.
Inside the Uffizi, Marco took us on a Gothic religious art tour. We saw some Giotto as well as others like Martini, whose Mary I found interesting.
I write, erase, rewrite
Erase again, and then,
A poppy blooms.
A swirling snowflake
Going round and round
Falls from the sky
~~12 year old girl
These are a couple of Haiku's from Dr. R's presentation which I'm at this moment.
The room we were all excited to see in the Uffizi was the Botticelli room with the Primavera and the Birth of Venus. Those were beautiful. I really like his style. I suppose the art I like is Renaissance through modern. But my favorite Botticelli, though I don't know why, was Pallas and the Centaur.
Another highlight of the Uffizi was two paintings by Caravaggio. I really love his because of their radiant highlights while the rest is dark. From what I gather, he was one of the first to experiment with light in the extreme.
We got caught in our first Italian rain shower! Apparently it's stormy all over Italy right now. When Kate an I were in the train station waiting for the train home I found a mouse pad with the David's head on it. I'm going to give it to my brother! 3 down, 3 to go. I have to buy little cheesy gifts for my family because I have no money.
This morning I was in a somber but not depressed mood. Maybe it was the rainy day, maybe it was the time of the month, maybe it was because I didn't get to the studio (I read Scottish fairy tales instead). I hardly said a word at lunch. I didn't feel bad, I just felt nothing. I was in a rare nothing mood. It was the same in studio. But Kate really cheered me up by the end. She talked about funny things and even gave me a hug. And Omar and Chase keep teasing me about having a mean streak. Of course I like the attention.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Random, poetry and songs
Saturday, 3/29/03
A Celtic blessing:
May he road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
May the rain fall soft upon your field.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.
I got two new pens! What I wrote to do today, I actually did before dinner yesterday. It is 4:15pm and I haven't yet left my room. Have I been being productive? Not really, but for the first period in my life I'm okay with that. I've been putting my pictures in the little photo albums they gave me at the photo shop. I can't wait to do my scrapbook!
Sunday, 3/30/03
I am, as usual on Sundays, waiting for the train after church. It was a nice meeting, though I was tired. Last night we switched to daylight savings and I found out too late to get enough sleep. I was determined to get enough sleep last night, but I was writing a scene and it took longer than I anticipated. First I was interrupted by dinner, then Omar came in and started talking to Cady and me. We had good laughs about various profs in the College of Architecture.
Next week is General Conference and I'm so excited! The thing, though, is that it's at weird hours, and in Prato, over an hour away. But the trains will work out fine. The question is how to get there once I'm in Prato. I'll call the elders on Friday to see if there's another sister riding the train, and if not they'll meet me at the train station.
To finish about the rest of the weekend, on Friday I went up to the studio to grab my project, supposedly to work on, but really I went because I couldn't stand it any longer without my pen. I can't stand blue pens. Mine have to be black. On the way down I stopped at Valerie and Carmen's place. They happened to have just started watching Notting Hill. So I watched it with them on Carmen's laptop. Our hostel in London was near Notting Hill, and we went to Portobello market the last day there, so I felt I had to see the movie that was set there. I found it quite dull. I ran my errands right before dinner and looked at my pictures during dinner. Directly afterward, we watched O Brother Where Art Thou. Now that is a great film.
Tuesday, 4/1/03
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind
That I put down in words
How wonderful life is
Now you're in the world!
That song is beautiful and I love it. Is that by Elton John?
Now I'm sitting, not listening to Marco's lecture. I can't when so much is on my mind. One good thing has happened. Last night when I was wasting time playing on the computer while waiting to see if the internet would begin to work, Dixie said she wanted to go to Pompeii and so we made a plan to go this weekend. Exciting! I was so afraid I wouldn't find anyone to go with me.
I just have to add that I've been reading some of Robert Burns' poetry, and some of his poems I really like. The only trouble is choosing poems I can identify with, whose subjects I know something about, since a lot of them are about people. It's nice because there's a glossary in the back to translate the Scottish dialect words. My favorite is "Scots What Hae", Robert the Bruce's address to the Scots before Bannockburn, which I'm sure they used for inspirtation in Braveheart.
I just went to another Marco lecture outside in the courtyard. He told a story about how his grandfather, a rather frightening man, gave him an apple. He opened the apple and exclaimed, "It has a worm inside!" His grandfather boxed his ears and said, "If the worm is in the apple, that means it is good!"
A Celtic blessing:
May he road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
May the rain fall soft upon your field.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.
I got two new pens! What I wrote to do today, I actually did before dinner yesterday. It is 4:15pm and I haven't yet left my room. Have I been being productive? Not really, but for the first period in my life I'm okay with that. I've been putting my pictures in the little photo albums they gave me at the photo shop. I can't wait to do my scrapbook!
Sunday, 3/30/03
I am, as usual on Sundays, waiting for the train after church. It was a nice meeting, though I was tired. Last night we switched to daylight savings and I found out too late to get enough sleep. I was determined to get enough sleep last night, but I was writing a scene and it took longer than I anticipated. First I was interrupted by dinner, then Omar came in and started talking to Cady and me. We had good laughs about various profs in the College of Architecture.
Next week is General Conference and I'm so excited! The thing, though, is that it's at weird hours, and in Prato, over an hour away. But the trains will work out fine. The question is how to get there once I'm in Prato. I'll call the elders on Friday to see if there's another sister riding the train, and if not they'll meet me at the train station.
To finish about the rest of the weekend, on Friday I went up to the studio to grab my project, supposedly to work on, but really I went because I couldn't stand it any longer without my pen. I can't stand blue pens. Mine have to be black. On the way down I stopped at Valerie and Carmen's place. They happened to have just started watching Notting Hill. So I watched it with them on Carmen's laptop. Our hostel in London was near Notting Hill, and we went to Portobello market the last day there, so I felt I had to see the movie that was set there. I found it quite dull. I ran my errands right before dinner and looked at my pictures during dinner. Directly afterward, we watched O Brother Where Art Thou. Now that is a great film.
Tuesday, 4/1/03
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind
That I put down in words
How wonderful life is
Now you're in the world!
That song is beautiful and I love it. Is that by Elton John?
Now I'm sitting, not listening to Marco's lecture. I can't when so much is on my mind. One good thing has happened. Last night when I was wasting time playing on the computer while waiting to see if the internet would begin to work, Dixie said she wanted to go to Pompeii and so we made a plan to go this weekend. Exciting! I was so afraid I wouldn't find anyone to go with me.
I just have to add that I've been reading some of Robert Burns' poetry, and some of his poems I really like. The only trouble is choosing poems I can identify with, whose subjects I know something about, since a lot of them are about people. It's nice because there's a glossary in the back to translate the Scottish dialect words. My favorite is "Scots What Hae", Robert the Bruce's address to the Scots before Bannockburn, which I'm sure they used for inspirtation in Braveheart.
I just went to another Marco lecture outside in the courtyard. He told a story about how his grandfather, a rather frightening man, gave him an apple. He opened the apple and exclaimed, "It has a worm inside!" His grandfather boxed his ears and said, "If the worm is in the apple, that means it is good!"
Friday, February 18, 2011
Sunny Villa Lante, Parco dei Mostri, and disorientation
Wednesday, 3/26/03
I'm sitting next to a demolished tree stump. The tree is not only gone, the entire stump, about 3 ft in diameter, is caved in the middle and the black jagged pieces are in a pile in the center. In between and around those pieces is growing a patch of seven leaf clover. The outside layer of the stump is covered with a carpet of the brightest green moss. There are various weeds growing around, but a lone fern peeps up at the foot of one of the stump's roots.
I'm at the Villa Lante, or in its garden, which is what it's known for. There's a very cultivated part, sculpted shrubberies, a succession of fountains, etc. Then there is this more free grown part, much like the woods of the botanic garden in Ft. Worth, but with fountains of water positioned in various spots. The garden used to be a lot bigger than this, and I believe this section was more structured. It's wonderful for exploring; I've been by myself the entire time and took the roads less traveled.
The weather is divine. The sun shines strongly and warmly, but there's a nice cool breeze. I'm laying on my jacket in a field of grass at the moment, right at the foot of a very tall tree. It's only the architecture students that are here. Everyone else went on a different field trip today. I love this place, but I hope we're not missing anything neat.
I laid out in the sun for about an hour, then joined a group who had come back from lunch. I laid out for another hour and listened to some Kansas guys discussing books on architectural theory, and then one of them reading The Fountainhead out loud and making fun of it. It was a wonderful afternoon.
Now we're just leaving the Parco dei Mostri, another place near Bomarzo. I'm so glad we went there. It was amazing, almost Disneyland-like. I don't know when it was constructed, but apparently some crazy guy had it done to satisfy his ego. It's a woodsy park with a collection of the most bizarre stone sculptures. There are titans, merpeople, a dragon, a life-sized elephant, an enormous turtle with the head of a sea monster looking like it's trying to swallow it. Then there are faces with mouths large enough to walk into.
Thursday, 3/27/03
I've decided: I want to got to graduate school in history of the arts, which encompasses art, architecture, music, literature and philosophy. That's what I want to know about. Now I just have to figure out what school can offer me that, and then make sure that's what I should do.
I forgot to write one really funny thing that happened. Monday night I went to bed. At length I woke up, it was dark, and for the first time in my life I had no earthly clue where I was. I saw this dark shadow across the room to my left.
I raised up on my elbow and said, "Where am I?"
The shadow didn't move, so I thought for about 30 seconds then finally said "You're Cady," still not really sure if she was.
She said, "Yeah, last time I checked." Then I was like, yeah, that's Cady.
I said, "What time is it?"
"It's a little after 11."
"What? I've only been asleep for 20 minutes!"
Then I went back to sleep. It must have been that two weeks in hotels, plus the only 3 hours of sleep the night before.
I'm sitting next to a demolished tree stump. The tree is not only gone, the entire stump, about 3 ft in diameter, is caved in the middle and the black jagged pieces are in a pile in the center. In between and around those pieces is growing a patch of seven leaf clover. The outside layer of the stump is covered with a carpet of the brightest green moss. There are various weeds growing around, but a lone fern peeps up at the foot of one of the stump's roots.
I'm at the Villa Lante, or in its garden, which is what it's known for. There's a very cultivated part, sculpted shrubberies, a succession of fountains, etc. Then there is this more free grown part, much like the woods of the botanic garden in Ft. Worth, but with fountains of water positioned in various spots. The garden used to be a lot bigger than this, and I believe this section was more structured. It's wonderful for exploring; I've been by myself the entire time and took the roads less traveled.
The weather is divine. The sun shines strongly and warmly, but there's a nice cool breeze. I'm laying on my jacket in a field of grass at the moment, right at the foot of a very tall tree. It's only the architecture students that are here. Everyone else went on a different field trip today. I love this place, but I hope we're not missing anything neat.
I laid out in the sun for about an hour, then joined a group who had come back from lunch. I laid out for another hour and listened to some Kansas guys discussing books on architectural theory, and then one of them reading The Fountainhead out loud and making fun of it. It was a wonderful afternoon.
Now we're just leaving the Parco dei Mostri, another place near Bomarzo. I'm so glad we went there. It was amazing, almost Disneyland-like. I don't know when it was constructed, but apparently some crazy guy had it done to satisfy his ego. It's a woodsy park with a collection of the most bizarre stone sculptures. There are titans, merpeople, a dragon, a life-sized elephant, an enormous turtle with the head of a sea monster looking like it's trying to swallow it. Then there are faces with mouths large enough to walk into.
Thursday, 3/27/03
I've decided: I want to got to graduate school in history of the arts, which encompasses art, architecture, music, literature and philosophy. That's what I want to know about. Now I just have to figure out what school can offer me that, and then make sure that's what I should do.
I forgot to write one really funny thing that happened. Monday night I went to bed. At length I woke up, it was dark, and for the first time in my life I had no earthly clue where I was. I saw this dark shadow across the room to my left.
I raised up on my elbow and said, "Where am I?"
The shadow didn't move, so I thought for about 30 seconds then finally said "You're Cady," still not really sure if she was.
She said, "Yeah, last time I checked." Then I was like, yeah, that's Cady.
I said, "What time is it?"
"It's a little after 11."
"What? I've only been asleep for 20 minutes!"
Then I went back to sleep. It must have been that two weeks in hotels, plus the only 3 hours of sleep the night before.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Leaving Paris, and random blues
Tuesday, 3/25/03
Imbecile (im-betch-eelay) is my name
Idiocy in authenticity is my game.
At length our bus finally came. We checked in at the airport with no further ado, but right afterward I realized I didn't have my jacket. "Where's my jacket?" I cried. I realized I'd left it on the bus. I dashed outside and thankfully retrieved my jacket, for the bus hadn't left in the full hour we'd been there. Next, since we were all ravenous and as the airport food prices were ridiculous, we made an amazing escapade to...McDonalds. It was a 20 minute walk around the entire runway area and it was so dark we could only see our feet when cars passed, shining their headlights at us. We were all in goofy mood, especially Val and I on the way back. I think I have a great talent for dramatizing life into cliches. I think of ways to describe "adventures" that all sound very familiar. And I quote movies too much.
So when we got to Milan we decided it would be easier to catch a train in the city of Milan, instead of Bergamo, where the airport really was. So we rode the bus to Milan and got to the train station at 12:45. The last train was at 12:30.
We had a nice see-what-it's-like-to-be-homeless adventure. The train station was probably in the low 50s Farenheit and we had to spend the night there. I slept maybe 30 minutes. The rest of the time I walked around or read standing. The restroom opened at 4am and we payed the 60 cents to get in (or Carmen did, and we followed her through the automatic doors) and we just hung out in there for an hour, because it had a heater. We took the first train of the morning at 5:30, even though it was a more expensive Eurostar. I don't like Eurostars. They're faster, but you have assigned seats.
We got back to Castiglion at 1:20 but before climbing the hill, I spent an hour at Anti Graphicke, finishing my project. I got to Santa Chiara at 11:45, just when Paolo was having a meeting about the war. I was like, "Forget that! I'm taking a shower." Lunch was divine, the tomato and cheese meal.
Dear Father,
Why am I so sad?
Is it because of what happened to Elizabeth Smart?
Do I fear what I don't understand?
Am I sick for home?
Is it because I'm frustrated with the art that is expected of me?
Am I reading too many fairy tales?
Do I know the real world?
I will know the real world, and I will go to class with a new determination to squander my frustration and do what Paolo wants me to do. I'll be cheerful and nice to people around me. Maybe. I can't stop hurting about what that demented man did to Elizabeth Smart. And it's things like that that make me read fairy tales at the wrong time. I must take art in moderation. If not, my life is spent hiding in art from reality. Emotionally, art can make me cry. Reality can turn my heart into a sick cavern. Thank goodness it's not often.
"Glory is light, light brings happiness, and happiness is the pleasure of the spirit" --Gaudi
"Beauty is the gleam of truth, and the gleam captures everyone; because of this, art has universality." --Gaudi
I just had a thought. What is the difference between idealism and realism? Beauty is organization and presentation, so what realism is, is communicating sadness or despair, etc. in an idealistic way. All art, therefore, is idealistic.
I just had a breakthrough. I want to go to graduate school. Not in architecture, though. Something along the lines of art history. The reason is because art history includes the trends and ideas of civilization, how they are manifested in art, and how art has influenced the courses of these civilizations. The only drawback is if I'm only studying and not using, I might lose sight of what it means to me practically. But I want to study what encompasses the nature of beauty, and psychology, sociology, and philosophy. Art encompasses all of those things because those things are manifested through art. I can study ideas through a creative window and not get so immersed in them that I become frustrated with them.
New ideas always make you understand the set ones more because they make you think and question. What I love about here is that no one is afraid to talk about religion, in an artistic or psychological sense. How can we be? Two of the classes center around religious art, and the psychology of religion. But it's still hard because I'm not getting the same spiritual instruction as usual. I know I shouldn't need the instruction for my own personal study, but I really miss discussions in church without the language barrier, and institute.
Imbecile (im-betch-eelay) is my name
Idiocy in authenticity is my game.
At length our bus finally came. We checked in at the airport with no further ado, but right afterward I realized I didn't have my jacket. "Where's my jacket?" I cried. I realized I'd left it on the bus. I dashed outside and thankfully retrieved my jacket, for the bus hadn't left in the full hour we'd been there. Next, since we were all ravenous and as the airport food prices were ridiculous, we made an amazing escapade to...McDonalds. It was a 20 minute walk around the entire runway area and it was so dark we could only see our feet when cars passed, shining their headlights at us. We were all in goofy mood, especially Val and I on the way back. I think I have a great talent for dramatizing life into cliches. I think of ways to describe "adventures" that all sound very familiar. And I quote movies too much.
So when we got to Milan we decided it would be easier to catch a train in the city of Milan, instead of Bergamo, where the airport really was. So we rode the bus to Milan and got to the train station at 12:45. The last train was at 12:30.
We had a nice see-what-it's-like-to-be-homeless adventure. The train station was probably in the low 50s Farenheit and we had to spend the night there. I slept maybe 30 minutes. The rest of the time I walked around or read standing. The restroom opened at 4am and we payed the 60 cents to get in (or Carmen did, and we followed her through the automatic doors) and we just hung out in there for an hour, because it had a heater. We took the first train of the morning at 5:30, even though it was a more expensive Eurostar. I don't like Eurostars. They're faster, but you have assigned seats.
We got back to Castiglion at 1:20 but before climbing the hill, I spent an hour at Anti Graphicke, finishing my project. I got to Santa Chiara at 11:45, just when Paolo was having a meeting about the war. I was like, "Forget that! I'm taking a shower." Lunch was divine, the tomato and cheese meal.
Dear Father,
Why am I so sad?
Is it because of what happened to Elizabeth Smart?
Do I fear what I don't understand?
Am I sick for home?
Is it because I'm frustrated with the art that is expected of me?
Am I reading too many fairy tales?
Do I know the real world?
I will know the real world, and I will go to class with a new determination to squander my frustration and do what Paolo wants me to do. I'll be cheerful and nice to people around me. Maybe. I can't stop hurting about what that demented man did to Elizabeth Smart. And it's things like that that make me read fairy tales at the wrong time. I must take art in moderation. If not, my life is spent hiding in art from reality. Emotionally, art can make me cry. Reality can turn my heart into a sick cavern. Thank goodness it's not often.
"Glory is light, light brings happiness, and happiness is the pleasure of the spirit" --Gaudi
"Beauty is the gleam of truth, and the gleam captures everyone; because of this, art has universality." --Gaudi
I just had a thought. What is the difference between idealism and realism? Beauty is organization and presentation, so what realism is, is communicating sadness or despair, etc. in an idealistic way. All art, therefore, is idealistic.
I just had a breakthrough. I want to go to graduate school. Not in architecture, though. Something along the lines of art history. The reason is because art history includes the trends and ideas of civilization, how they are manifested in art, and how art has influenced the courses of these civilizations. The only drawback is if I'm only studying and not using, I might lose sight of what it means to me practically. But I want to study what encompasses the nature of beauty, and psychology, sociology, and philosophy. Art encompasses all of those things because those things are manifested through art. I can study ideas through a creative window and not get so immersed in them that I become frustrated with them.
New ideas always make you understand the set ones more because they make you think and question. What I love about here is that no one is afraid to talk about religion, in an artistic or psychological sense. How can we be? Two of the classes center around religious art, and the psychology of religion. But it's still hard because I'm not getting the same spiritual instruction as usual. I know I shouldn't need the instruction for my own personal study, but I really miss discussions in church without the language barrier, and institute.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Paris #2: Picasso, Rodin, Eiffell, stupidity, Hugo, Sacre Coeur
Saturday, 3/22/03
Today we saw a grand total of six things: the Musee Picasso, Musee Rodin, Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel Tower, Moulin Rouge, and Sacre Coeur. This morning I was extremely proud of myself for getting up at 8 and working on my project. Valerie and Carmen didn't get up until nearly 10. So, without much ado, we set out for Musee Picasso, stopping at many stops on the way and out of the way to get a decent breakfast. The milk I got this morning tasted a lot better than yesterday's, but the bottle was bigger, so I ended up having to throw some away because I couldn't drink any more before it spoiled. We all had delicious raisin pastries. I had no idea they would be so light and delicate.
The Picasso museum was very interesting. It showed the evolution of his work very well, and I really enjoyed seeing how good his realistic portraits were. As far as cubism goes, all of them are fascinating, but I prefer the much more abstract and jumbled pieces to those where you can blatantly see how he has distorted the body. My favorite is still "The Poet" at the Guggenheim Venezia. And I discovered today that what I wrote about Cezanne's work has further significance. The way in he sectioned off the colors in his landscapes made him a forerunner to cubism. I find that fascinating. I'm getting where I can recognize a particular painter's work (if I know them) on sight. It's really exciting.
Next we went to Rodin, sculptor of "The Kiss" and "The Thinker". After being so passionately in love with Bernini's perfection it was hard to switch modes so I could admire Rodin. Apparently he didn't care so much about the perfect physical form as the freedom of artistic expression. A lot of his sculptures still seem to melt in with the block of marble and not fully take form. My favorite was "The Thinker". Rodin is very good at conveying emotions and that was one of the few strong emotional ones that wasn't also very sensual. There were a few really shocking sculptures. Roden must have been obsessed with Balzac; he had a room full of sculptures of him. Maybe it was the round belly. But he also did one of Victor Hugo, and one of Mozart. We ate lunch in the sculpture garden.
We wanted to see the Eiffel Tower at sunset so we went to the Champs-Elysses to see the Arc de Triomphe. That was probably the biggest disappointment because we didn't want to pay to go inside, but you couldn't walk under the arch without paying either the busy road was a grand barrier for the underground entrance. There was nothing but shops, or should I say stores stores stores, for shops are small and cozy and more market like. Anyway, there was nothing else to do, so we went ahead to the Tower.
Sunday, 3/23/03
Carmen has had a lifelong dream to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. She said that when she was little, her uncle said he was going to tickle her to death and she screamed, "No! I haven't been to Paris yet!" Valerie thought it was a ripoff and decided not to go up. The Eiffel Tower may only be an enormously tall flagpole, but, like the Mona Lisa, it is an ICON. It was the center piece for the 18-something world's fair and, unlike a lot of those types of buildings, it wasn't torn down. So I didn't think the €10 was a ripoff, so much as I just didn't want to pay the money. So I decided not to go up, also. Valerie and I laid in the grass at the foot of the tower, enjoying the sun and discussing musicals and movies, while Carmen had a single romantic adventure of her own.
After an hour or so, we drifted back to where we were supposed to meet Carmen. I was hungry by that time, and so I went off to find a sandwich, while Valerie waited for Carmen. On the way I proved myself a true, genuine, authentic IDIOT! As I was walking by (really fast, mind you) a group of caricature artists, one started calling me and when I said "No" he grabbed my arm and asked some more. I said, "I don't have any money." He said, "I will draw you just for an example. You don't have to buy it if you don't want to." I should've known he was lying through his teeth when he started complementing me on my beauty. Sometimes I can be pretty, but definitely not when I haven't had clean clothes for a week, my hair is pulled back and frizzy, and the Paris pollution gave me a huge breakout. I told him I didn't have any time. He said it would only take two minutes. Why was I so vulnerable? I can just walk straight past other street vendors with only a shake of the head. I should have wrenched my arm out of his grasp and given him a death look. But what do I do? I sit for him.
First of all, the caricature was not that good. It didn't even look like me. But when he started personalizing it with my name and the places I'd been, I knew it was going to be hard getting out of this situation. He first said he would sell it to me for €40. I didn't understand, I wondered if he meant cents, even knowing that was way too cheap. I kept saying no, and finally he lowered it to €5, telling me it was his job and he had to make money. I kept saying that he told me it would be for an example. Heck no, I wasn't going to buy it. I just felt extremely stupid for letting myself get into that situation in the first place. That's my worst memory of the entire week.
I walked on the other side of the street, next to the river on my way back to the Tower. Next we decided to go see the Moulin Rouge. It had a very classy exterior, but was over a hundred to get in. Not that I even wanted to.
Next we set out to see another building near there, what we thought was a mosque by the look on the postcards I'd seen. I had the map, as usual, and was having a bit of trouble reading the winding roads. Valerie and Carmen weren't too keen on seeing it. I don't know why. Finally, we found the Sacre Coeur and it turned out to be a Catholic church after all. It was absolutely beautiful, though we can't figure out why it was such an un-Christianesque architecture. After that we got on the Metro, had to switch like 3 lines, and got back to the hotel. I woke up before C & V this morning and finished my entire project except for text and copying. I'll have to wait for Castiglion to do that.
I had a scare last night. I lost my tape, in Scotland, I guess. I was so mad I wanted to explode. It takes more effort not to swear, these days. Luckily the nice man at the hotel desk had some scotch handy.
Why did the pigeon cross the road?
It was too fat to fly, for fear it would explode.
We're sitting in the grass at the bus parking lot, waiting for a bus to take us back to the airport. Trouble is, we don't know when the bus will be here. So, we just wait. We checked out of the hotel at noon, but the nice Asian man let us leave our luggage in the office for the day. I don't remember if I mentioned this earlier, but I won the "packing lightest" award, probably for girls and guys. I only have my one backpack. Now I'm carrying around a heavy grocery bag too, awkward especially now that it's hot outside and my jacked it stuffed in it.
We walked to the Place de Bastille, stopping on the way to get food. Valerie and I got these delicious raisin strudels. It was crispy and flaky on the outside, but nice in the middle. Well, there really isn't much at the past site of the Bastille except the Opera Bastille, which we wouldn't enter. But near there is the Maison de Victor Hugo, which I wanted to see. We spent a while searching for it, and stumbled upon the Place des Vosges. It took me forever to figure out that the Hugo house is actually on the corner of the square, and V & C were tired and apathetic so I went in alone. It was just a nce house that Hugo had lived in for a number of years, but it had some of his sketches, paintings other artists had done on his novels, and even a couple of Rodin's sculptures of Hugo. My favorite piece was a plaster sculpture of Cosette carrying the water bucket; it brought tears to my eyes. The museum would have been a whole lot more enlightening had I been able to read the French descriptions.
Next we took the Metro to the Pompidou center, or tried to. The line ended up being closed so we wasted a ticket and had to walk. It was interesting. I didn't want to go inside and just wanted to see the outside to say I'd seen it. I took a picture of one side and was on my way around to the other when I came upon the Fontaine Stravinsky, which I didn't know existed. But I immediately recognized it from Sabrina (the 1995 one). It was the moving sculptures that blow water, like the giant lips and treble clef, to name a few. Then in the shop next door they were playing "The Old Ways", by Loreena McKennitt. I had to go in and mutter along.
I forgot to mention that at the Place des Vosges there was a gypsy-like group, 8 to 10 people who were playing "If I were a rich man". That brought tears to my eyes and I couldn't stop smiling. I wanted to dance. The, on the other side, was a cellist playing a Bach cello concerto that I've heard YoYo Ma perform.
So we walked back from the Pompidou center (after getting ice cream) and when we got to the hotel the man was arguing with someone in French over the telephone. It was so funny because when we got our bags he turned around from yelling and said something like, "Is everything okay? Do you know how to use the subway?" etc, with a nice smile. He kind of scared us the first evening with his earnestness to make us comfortable, but we love him now.
Where, oh where, can our bus be?
Today we saw a grand total of six things: the Musee Picasso, Musee Rodin, Arc de Triomphe, Eiffel Tower, Moulin Rouge, and Sacre Coeur. This morning I was extremely proud of myself for getting up at 8 and working on my project. Valerie and Carmen didn't get up until nearly 10. So, without much ado, we set out for Musee Picasso, stopping at many stops on the way and out of the way to get a decent breakfast. The milk I got this morning tasted a lot better than yesterday's, but the bottle was bigger, so I ended up having to throw some away because I couldn't drink any more before it spoiled. We all had delicious raisin pastries. I had no idea they would be so light and delicate.
The Picasso museum was very interesting. It showed the evolution of his work very well, and I really enjoyed seeing how good his realistic portraits were. As far as cubism goes, all of them are fascinating, but I prefer the much more abstract and jumbled pieces to those where you can blatantly see how he has distorted the body. My favorite is still "The Poet" at the Guggenheim Venezia. And I discovered today that what I wrote about Cezanne's work has further significance. The way in he sectioned off the colors in his landscapes made him a forerunner to cubism. I find that fascinating. I'm getting where I can recognize a particular painter's work (if I know them) on sight. It's really exciting.
Next we went to Rodin, sculptor of "The Kiss" and "The Thinker". After being so passionately in love with Bernini's perfection it was hard to switch modes so I could admire Rodin. Apparently he didn't care so much about the perfect physical form as the freedom of artistic expression. A lot of his sculptures still seem to melt in with the block of marble and not fully take form. My favorite was "The Thinker". Rodin is very good at conveying emotions and that was one of the few strong emotional ones that wasn't also very sensual. There were a few really shocking sculptures. Roden must have been obsessed with Balzac; he had a room full of sculptures of him. Maybe it was the round belly. But he also did one of Victor Hugo, and one of Mozart. We ate lunch in the sculpture garden.
We wanted to see the Eiffel Tower at sunset so we went to the Champs-Elysses to see the Arc de Triomphe. That was probably the biggest disappointment because we didn't want to pay to go inside, but you couldn't walk under the arch without paying either the busy road was a grand barrier for the underground entrance. There was nothing but shops, or should I say stores stores stores, for shops are small and cozy and more market like. Anyway, there was nothing else to do, so we went ahead to the Tower.
Sunday, 3/23/03
Carmen has had a lifelong dream to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. She said that when she was little, her uncle said he was going to tickle her to death and she screamed, "No! I haven't been to Paris yet!" Valerie thought it was a ripoff and decided not to go up. The Eiffel Tower may only be an enormously tall flagpole, but, like the Mona Lisa, it is an ICON. It was the center piece for the 18-something world's fair and, unlike a lot of those types of buildings, it wasn't torn down. So I didn't think the €10 was a ripoff, so much as I just didn't want to pay the money. So I decided not to go up, also. Valerie and I laid in the grass at the foot of the tower, enjoying the sun and discussing musicals and movies, while Carmen had a single romantic adventure of her own.
After an hour or so, we drifted back to where we were supposed to meet Carmen. I was hungry by that time, and so I went off to find a sandwich, while Valerie waited for Carmen. On the way I proved myself a true, genuine, authentic IDIOT! As I was walking by (really fast, mind you) a group of caricature artists, one started calling me and when I said "No" he grabbed my arm and asked some more. I said, "I don't have any money." He said, "I will draw you just for an example. You don't have to buy it if you don't want to." I should've known he was lying through his teeth when he started complementing me on my beauty. Sometimes I can be pretty, but definitely not when I haven't had clean clothes for a week, my hair is pulled back and frizzy, and the Paris pollution gave me a huge breakout. I told him I didn't have any time. He said it would only take two minutes. Why was I so vulnerable? I can just walk straight past other street vendors with only a shake of the head. I should have wrenched my arm out of his grasp and given him a death look. But what do I do? I sit for him.
First of all, the caricature was not that good. It didn't even look like me. But when he started personalizing it with my name and the places I'd been, I knew it was going to be hard getting out of this situation. He first said he would sell it to me for €40. I didn't understand, I wondered if he meant cents, even knowing that was way too cheap. I kept saying no, and finally he lowered it to €5, telling me it was his job and he had to make money. I kept saying that he told me it would be for an example. Heck no, I wasn't going to buy it. I just felt extremely stupid for letting myself get into that situation in the first place. That's my worst memory of the entire week.
I walked on the other side of the street, next to the river on my way back to the Tower. Next we decided to go see the Moulin Rouge. It had a very classy exterior, but was over a hundred to get in. Not that I even wanted to.
Next we set out to see another building near there, what we thought was a mosque by the look on the postcards I'd seen. I had the map, as usual, and was having a bit of trouble reading the winding roads. Valerie and Carmen weren't too keen on seeing it. I don't know why. Finally, we found the Sacre Coeur and it turned out to be a Catholic church after all. It was absolutely beautiful, though we can't figure out why it was such an un-Christianesque architecture. After that we got on the Metro, had to switch like 3 lines, and got back to the hotel. I woke up before C & V this morning and finished my entire project except for text and copying. I'll have to wait for Castiglion to do that.
I had a scare last night. I lost my tape, in Scotland, I guess. I was so mad I wanted to explode. It takes more effort not to swear, these days. Luckily the nice man at the hotel desk had some scotch handy.
Why did the pigeon cross the road?
It was too fat to fly, for fear it would explode.
We're sitting in the grass at the bus parking lot, waiting for a bus to take us back to the airport. Trouble is, we don't know when the bus will be here. So, we just wait. We checked out of the hotel at noon, but the nice Asian man let us leave our luggage in the office for the day. I don't remember if I mentioned this earlier, but I won the "packing lightest" award, probably for girls and guys. I only have my one backpack. Now I'm carrying around a heavy grocery bag too, awkward especially now that it's hot outside and my jacked it stuffed in it.
We walked to the Place de Bastille, stopping on the way to get food. Valerie and I got these delicious raisin strudels. It was crispy and flaky on the outside, but nice in the middle. Well, there really isn't much at the past site of the Bastille except the Opera Bastille, which we wouldn't enter. But near there is the Maison de Victor Hugo, which I wanted to see. We spent a while searching for it, and stumbled upon the Place des Vosges. It took me forever to figure out that the Hugo house is actually on the corner of the square, and V & C were tired and apathetic so I went in alone. It was just a nce house that Hugo had lived in for a number of years, but it had some of his sketches, paintings other artists had done on his novels, and even a couple of Rodin's sculptures of Hugo. My favorite piece was a plaster sculpture of Cosette carrying the water bucket; it brought tears to my eyes. The museum would have been a whole lot more enlightening had I been able to read the French descriptions.
Next we took the Metro to the Pompidou center, or tried to. The line ended up being closed so we wasted a ticket and had to walk. It was interesting. I didn't want to go inside and just wanted to see the outside to say I'd seen it. I took a picture of one side and was on my way around to the other when I came upon the Fontaine Stravinsky, which I didn't know existed. But I immediately recognized it from Sabrina (the 1995 one). It was the moving sculptures that blow water, like the giant lips and treble clef, to name a few. Then in the shop next door they were playing "The Old Ways", by Loreena McKennitt. I had to go in and mutter along.
I forgot to mention that at the Place des Vosges there was a gypsy-like group, 8 to 10 people who were playing "If I were a rich man". That brought tears to my eyes and I couldn't stop smiling. I wanted to dance. The, on the other side, was a cellist playing a Bach cello concerto that I've heard YoYo Ma perform.
So we walked back from the Pompidou center (after getting ice cream) and when we got to the hotel the man was arguing with someone in French over the telephone. It was so funny because when we got our bags he turned around from yelling and said something like, "Is everything okay? Do you know how to use the subway?" etc, with a nice smile. He kind of scared us the first evening with his earnestness to make us comfortable, but we love him now.
Where, oh where, can our bus be?
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Paris: Notre Dame, Sainte Chappelle, Musee D'Orsay, Louvre
Friday, 3/21/03
Most of what I wrote yesterday is rubbish. But there are, I think, a few lines semi-worthy to be called poetic. Most of all I was trying to scribble down a way to remember the images.
Well, our fears about Paris seemed to be ill founded. They obviously didn't deny our passports; they didn't even ask any questions. We easily caught a bus to central Paris and once we got there, some nice French men (they spoke English) showed us where the Metro Station was and how to get to our stop, and one man walked us to our hotel. When we were on the subway a group of street musicians, two accordionists and a tambourinist got in our car and started playing and singing. I felt it was a perfect welcome to the city. They played one song I even recognized. I think it was an Operatic song Pavarotti sings.
We were afraid our hotel would be scary because it was cheap, but all turned out very well. The front hall looked dark and narrow from the street. It's old, but the room is nice (our own room!), it has wallpaper, a wardrobe, and our own (clean!) shower and sink. The toilet is in the hall. On one wall we can tell there used to be a fireplace. This must have been an old house or something. There's only a curtain in front of the shower room and the sink is literally lodged behind the shower. Only problem: the cars in the street are a little loud, and Carmen and I, on our double bed, have a long, jelly roll-like pillow that is thin and hard. But what are the cons--we have our own room! It is clean! Now I want to see Paris!
What a packed day! I went to four buildings today: Notre-Dame, Ste. Chappelle, Musee D'Orsay, and the Louvre. The funny thing is that my least favorite was the Louvre, just because it was so massive I couldn't visualize its organization in my head. It was confusing, with steps that went up, down, around again, halls one after another until you had no idea where you were. But there were a few things I really enjoyed seeing, which I'll describe later.
This morning we walked to Notre Dame, supposedly a 20 min walk but it took us longer because we went the wrong direction at first (there are at least 3 rues with "Temple" in them in Paris) then we had to get breakfast. Notre Dame, I think, is the only thing in Paris that is free. The cathedral didn't disappoint or exceed my expectations. What I liked best about it was that the stone walls, arches, vaults, etc. were left bare and not caked with frescoes or other paints. The decoration was minimal when compared with Italian cathedrals. The ribs could be admired for their own marvelous merit.
I went through the cathedral a total of four times: first to get to know the space, second to take pictures, third to look closer at the sculptures, and fourth to look frantically for Valerie and Carmen. I really wished we could go up into the gallery, but in no cathedral I've seen have they allowed that. I actually think the Duomo at Pisa was the only Italian cathedral I've seen with a gallery.
Next, I went to Sainte Chappelle. I went alone because V & C didn't want to pay the money (€3.50). That chapel, which wasn't going to miss for the world, didn't exceed or disappoint my expectations either. It was absolutely gorgeous. The painting is very bright and rich, but to me it's more acceptable because it's a small chapel. And, of course, the stained glass on the second level is marvelous.
When I met my two companions outside in the square again, we didn't have any definite place to go except the Louvre, and couldn't go there until 3 because it was cheaper. So I suggested the Musee D'Orsay, another no-miss because it has a ton of impressionist art. Carmen wanted to go too because of Degas' Dancers, but Valerie didn't want to.
The Musee D'Orsay was amazing. Some of Monet's best known paintings and my favorites, were there, as well as Renoir, Van Gogh, and many many others. I now appreciate the other impressionists aside from Monet a lot more. I still prefer his style the most though. It's the most representative of impressionists in general, dabs of color here and there to create a beautifully coded composition.
Carmen told me something funny in the museum. In Clueless, Tye asks Cher if she thinks Amber is pretty and Cher says, "No, she's a full Monet! From a distance she looks fin, but up close she's a complete mess." That reminded me of "Lucy as a work of art" in A Room With a View.
I noticed that Renoir's style is more polished, his colors more smoothly mixed, and his painting features more distinct. And it's fitting because he paints more portraits. Another painter, was it Cezanne? His paintings almost seem like patchwork quilts in their coloring. His landscapes are breathtaking.
Then there is Van Gogh. His trademark is the swirls of color, the curves, the almost cartoony scenes. But his paintings have a character and charm that none of the others do. I think his colors are the least blended of all the artists I know, but they complement each other so fascinatingly.
Carmen and I almost ran through the rest of the museum. I remember little of it. I would rather have spent that time staring at the paintings I loved, but we didn't want to miss anything. The architecture of the museum was great too. I loved the glass vault of the main room.
After the Musee D'Orsay we hurried over to the Louvre (we made it through D'Orsay in 1 1/2 hours) to meet Valerie, not having a clue where we should meet her. Luckily she was in the courtyard of the main entrance, Pei's Pyramid. She came running up to us in quite a fright. A French Arab man had been making the moves on her. He followed her around, then told her she was so beautiful and would she like to go into the museum with him. She told him no, that she was waiting for some friends. When we got there she was still afraid he was hanging around. But we didn't see him again. Carmen and I were there to protect her!
So we went into the museum. First, of course, we went through the long painting gallery to get to Ms. Mona Lisa. Valerie didn't see what the big deal was. Honestly, I hadn't really thought about why she was so revered until I attempted to explain it to Valerie. See, we were brought up knowing about the Mona Lisa's fame and so we can't look at her with an impartial eye. Seeing her in person, however, it really struck me how much she does appear to be looking at you (or something over your shoulder_ and is trying to smother a smirk. Other portraits in those days just weren't like that. Her eyes are looking to the side, which makes it seem as if they would follow you as you walked past her. I wouldn't really see the smirk if it weren't for the laugh lines under her eyes, in addition to the one mouth corner turned up. And then there is the question of "Who was the model?" No one knows, though some suspect it was Da Vinci himself. I think the main thing is that it was revolutionary for an artist to show such a subtle yet superior sense of humor. Valerie still didn't get it.
After that we kind of drifted around, so overwhelmed we didn't know where to go. Valerie and I wanted to see an Islamic and Asian ancient art exhibit but it was closed for the day. Then Carmen wanted to see the sculpture of Cupid & Psyche. It was beautiful, the position beautiful, though it didn't have near the detail as Bernini's sculptures, and not quite the theatrical vitality. It was by Cavor.
Next we went to see the crown jewels of Louis the XIV. The main crown I didn't like; it seemed rather clumsily put together with multi-colored jewels that didn't match. Probably just because it's so old. But there was a tiny blue gem-set crown and jewelry that I liked. My favorite was a divine emerald-set-in-silver crown for a female. It was so beautiful that I want to use it in my Fantasy tale. I was bitterly disappointed when at the end they had postcards of the other crowns, but not of that one.
The last thing we set out to see was a Vermeer painting shown on the brochure map. I was disappointed that they only had two Vermeers in their collection. Valerie said most of them were probably in Amsterdam.
I forgot to mention that on the other side of the crown case, there was the biggest diamond any of us had ever seen. It was 140 carats. On either side of it were two smaller diamonds, but each still large enough to make your fingers fall off. One was pin and apparently pink diamonds are extremely rare and expensive. Valerie and Carmen said that J.Lo has a pink diamond ring from Ben Affleck. No wonder she sang that son, "Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got, I'm still Jenny from the block".
We took the long walk home, stopping at a grocery for water and fruit, then a patisserie for dinner. We each got a looong chicken sandwich (mostly bread, but the chicken bologna was good) with a drink and a pastrie for €5. Good deal. So with my sandwich for dinner I had, without intending it, apple juice, apple pastry, then an apple afterward. Yum.
Most of what I wrote yesterday is rubbish. But there are, I think, a few lines semi-worthy to be called poetic. Most of all I was trying to scribble down a way to remember the images.
Well, our fears about Paris seemed to be ill founded. They obviously didn't deny our passports; they didn't even ask any questions. We easily caught a bus to central Paris and once we got there, some nice French men (they spoke English) showed us where the Metro Station was and how to get to our stop, and one man walked us to our hotel. When we were on the subway a group of street musicians, two accordionists and a tambourinist got in our car and started playing and singing. I felt it was a perfect welcome to the city. They played one song I even recognized. I think it was an Operatic song Pavarotti sings.
We were afraid our hotel would be scary because it was cheap, but all turned out very well. The front hall looked dark and narrow from the street. It's old, but the room is nice (our own room!), it has wallpaper, a wardrobe, and our own (clean!) shower and sink. The toilet is in the hall. On one wall we can tell there used to be a fireplace. This must have been an old house or something. There's only a curtain in front of the shower room and the sink is literally lodged behind the shower. Only problem: the cars in the street are a little loud, and Carmen and I, on our double bed, have a long, jelly roll-like pillow that is thin and hard. But what are the cons--we have our own room! It is clean! Now I want to see Paris!
*********************************
What a packed day! I went to four buildings today: Notre-Dame, Ste. Chappelle, Musee D'Orsay, and the Louvre. The funny thing is that my least favorite was the Louvre, just because it was so massive I couldn't visualize its organization in my head. It was confusing, with steps that went up, down, around again, halls one after another until you had no idea where you were. But there were a few things I really enjoyed seeing, which I'll describe later.
This morning we walked to Notre Dame, supposedly a 20 min walk but it took us longer because we went the wrong direction at first (there are at least 3 rues with "Temple" in them in Paris) then we had to get breakfast. Notre Dame, I think, is the only thing in Paris that is free. The cathedral didn't disappoint or exceed my expectations. What I liked best about it was that the stone walls, arches, vaults, etc. were left bare and not caked with frescoes or other paints. The decoration was minimal when compared with Italian cathedrals. The ribs could be admired for their own marvelous merit.
I went through the cathedral a total of four times: first to get to know the space, second to take pictures, third to look closer at the sculptures, and fourth to look frantically for Valerie and Carmen. I really wished we could go up into the gallery, but in no cathedral I've seen have they allowed that. I actually think the Duomo at Pisa was the only Italian cathedral I've seen with a gallery.
Next, I went to Sainte Chappelle. I went alone because V & C didn't want to pay the money (€3.50). That chapel, which wasn't going to miss for the world, didn't exceed or disappoint my expectations either. It was absolutely gorgeous. The painting is very bright and rich, but to me it's more acceptable because it's a small chapel. And, of course, the stained glass on the second level is marvelous.
When I met my two companions outside in the square again, we didn't have any definite place to go except the Louvre, and couldn't go there until 3 because it was cheaper. So I suggested the Musee D'Orsay, another no-miss because it has a ton of impressionist art. Carmen wanted to go too because of Degas' Dancers, but Valerie didn't want to.
The Musee D'Orsay was amazing. Some of Monet's best known paintings and my favorites, were there, as well as Renoir, Van Gogh, and many many others. I now appreciate the other impressionists aside from Monet a lot more. I still prefer his style the most though. It's the most representative of impressionists in general, dabs of color here and there to create a beautifully coded composition.
Carmen told me something funny in the museum. In Clueless, Tye asks Cher if she thinks Amber is pretty and Cher says, "No, she's a full Monet! From a distance she looks fin, but up close she's a complete mess." That reminded me of "Lucy as a work of art" in A Room With a View.
I noticed that Renoir's style is more polished, his colors more smoothly mixed, and his painting features more distinct. And it's fitting because he paints more portraits. Another painter, was it Cezanne? His paintings almost seem like patchwork quilts in their coloring. His landscapes are breathtaking.
Then there is Van Gogh. His trademark is the swirls of color, the curves, the almost cartoony scenes. But his paintings have a character and charm that none of the others do. I think his colors are the least blended of all the artists I know, but they complement each other so fascinatingly.
Carmen and I almost ran through the rest of the museum. I remember little of it. I would rather have spent that time staring at the paintings I loved, but we didn't want to miss anything. The architecture of the museum was great too. I loved the glass vault of the main room.
After the Musee D'Orsay we hurried over to the Louvre (we made it through D'Orsay in 1 1/2 hours) to meet Valerie, not having a clue where we should meet her. Luckily she was in the courtyard of the main entrance, Pei's Pyramid. She came running up to us in quite a fright. A French Arab man had been making the moves on her. He followed her around, then told her she was so beautiful and would she like to go into the museum with him. She told him no, that she was waiting for some friends. When we got there she was still afraid he was hanging around. But we didn't see him again. Carmen and I were there to protect her!
So we went into the museum. First, of course, we went through the long painting gallery to get to Ms. Mona Lisa. Valerie didn't see what the big deal was. Honestly, I hadn't really thought about why she was so revered until I attempted to explain it to Valerie. See, we were brought up knowing about the Mona Lisa's fame and so we can't look at her with an impartial eye. Seeing her in person, however, it really struck me how much she does appear to be looking at you (or something over your shoulder_ and is trying to smother a smirk. Other portraits in those days just weren't like that. Her eyes are looking to the side, which makes it seem as if they would follow you as you walked past her. I wouldn't really see the smirk if it weren't for the laugh lines under her eyes, in addition to the one mouth corner turned up. And then there is the question of "Who was the model?" No one knows, though some suspect it was Da Vinci himself. I think the main thing is that it was revolutionary for an artist to show such a subtle yet superior sense of humor. Valerie still didn't get it.
After that we kind of drifted around, so overwhelmed we didn't know where to go. Valerie and I wanted to see an Islamic and Asian ancient art exhibit but it was closed for the day. Then Carmen wanted to see the sculpture of Cupid & Psyche. It was beautiful, the position beautiful, though it didn't have near the detail as Bernini's sculptures, and not quite the theatrical vitality. It was by Cavor.
Next we went to see the crown jewels of Louis the XIV. The main crown I didn't like; it seemed rather clumsily put together with multi-colored jewels that didn't match. Probably just because it's so old. But there was a tiny blue gem-set crown and jewelry that I liked. My favorite was a divine emerald-set-in-silver crown for a female. It was so beautiful that I want to use it in my Fantasy tale. I was bitterly disappointed when at the end they had postcards of the other crowns, but not of that one.
The last thing we set out to see was a Vermeer painting shown on the brochure map. I was disappointed that they only had two Vermeers in their collection. Valerie said most of them were probably in Amsterdam.
I forgot to mention that on the other side of the crown case, there was the biggest diamond any of us had ever seen. It was 140 carats. On either side of it were two smaller diamonds, but each still large enough to make your fingers fall off. One was pin and apparently pink diamonds are extremely rare and expensive. Valerie and Carmen said that J.Lo has a pink diamond ring from Ben Affleck. No wonder she sang that son, "Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got, I'm still Jenny from the block".
We took the long walk home, stopping at a grocery for water and fruit, then a patisserie for dinner. We each got a looong chicken sandwich (mostly bread, but the chicken bologna was good) with a drink and a pastrie for €5. Good deal. So with my sandwich for dinner I had, without intending it, apple juice, apple pastry, then an apple afterward. Yum.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Stirling, Glasgow, and silly gushing over Scotland
Thursday, 3/20/03
Well it seems to be a beautiful morning, but I'm sad because we're leaving Scotland today. Paris should be fun, though. I'm also a little worried because I haven't finished my studio project yet. I have simply been too tired to work on it. Hopefully the hotel in Paris will be inviting enough that I won't mind working there. I tried the first night in Scotland, but I got really hyper and started singing and dancing about the room with Carmen, so all my energy left me.
It's about 9 in the morning. Val & Carm are still asleep but I've been awake for a while, thinking about a silly medieval story I might write about a stone spiral staircase. I went to sleep before 10pm last night, so I got a good 10 hours.
I'm a little concerned. I didn't mention it before, but Tuesday evening American time (the middle of the night here) President Bush gave Saddam Hussein 48 hours to disarm and leave Iraq or they would go to war. It's been 48 hour and Saddam, of course, has no intention of backing down. The problem is that the French are totally against the war and anti-American right now. In America they've even renamed French fries "Liberty" fries. So if they even let us into the country (which they better, because we have plane reservations), we'll have to keep a low profile. Maybe Carmen can speak Spanish to the French people rather than us trying to speak English. [In retrospect, these worries were paranoid and stupid]
Yesterday we got up, and got our raisin scones and milk at the Elephant's Sufficiency. Then we hopped on a train to Stirling. It took us about 15 minutes to walk up the hill to the castle and we caught the beginning of a walking tour. I believe I liked Stirling Castle even more than Edinburgh Castle. There was a statue of Robert the Bruce out at the front (I need to figure out how exactly I'm related to him). There isn't as much as far as museums, less information, but a ton more to explore. When I went through the Palace I kept having trouble deciding which hall to turn down, but everywhere I went, I always ended up coming back the way I hadn't seen, so it was all right. I love the wood ceiling of the Great Hall. The kitchens were neat, with models of food and people working, and when there were other tourists in there it was impossible to tell how many people were in the room, it was so crowded.
Then there was the Nether Bailey, a huge terrace on a lower level than the rest of the castle complex. The grass was so green and the rocks so appealing that I had to climb them from one level to the next. Then I walked around the sidewalk at the edge of the cliff until I came to a dead end at the wall up to the rest of the castle. I just walked along that wall, on a steep grassy slope, until I came back around to the main entrance of the Nether Bailey (I had to jump down a small stone wall).
The guide at the beginning told us that Douglas Gardens were haunted by the eighth Earl of Douglas, who was killed by James II. "But what goes around comes around," he said, "for James II was killed a few years later when he stood too close to one of his own cannons."
When I was at the castle I left Carmen and Valerie to explore on my own, but we met back up and ate lunch on a ledge that sloped down to overlook a beautiful graveyard below. Next we hurried out because we thought we would have to walk the 2 miles to the Wallace Monument. We passed by the Argyll's Lodging on the way down and since we got in with our castle tickets, we walked through the house quickly. It was a neat house and would have been quite interesting had we not been in such a hurry. The nice lady in the shop there gave us directions to the Monument, but recommended we take a cab so we would have time to enjoy ourselves. The cab ended up being only £3, less than what a bus would've cost for the three of us.
The Wallace Monument is a tower (278 steps) on top of Abbey Craig, a steep hill near Stirling. Between the monument and the city is Stirling bridge, where the Scots under William Wallace beat the crap out of the English. 1297. Then in 1314, of course, was Bannockburn, where the Scots finally won independence under Robert the Bruce.
So we climbed the road and panted a lot, up to the Wallace Monument. Once inside the tower, there is a shop on the ground floor (I've really grown to love tourist shops) and a tiny spiral staircase up. I figured that 3 revolutions of the staircase take you up one floor. The first room up was a display of William Wallace's life (what they know of it), and his 5'5" sword was in a glass case there. The next room up had the busts of many Scottish heroes (including Scott, Robert the Bruce, and many people I hadn't heard of). There were stained glass windows of William Wallace, Robert the Bruce, and two anonymous Scottish Soldiers. The third room was a timeline on all four walls about the history of Stirling. Finally, above that, was the roof, with great views in all directions, and a beautiful stone rib up above with four base points.
It was up there that the three of us got into our crazy moods and decided to have nicknames. Valerie is "retard" stemming from her exclamations the night before of "seriously, why am I retarded?" Carmen is "dork" because Valerie always calls her that in fun, anyway. I am "idiot" which fits with my "idiot's day in Verona. Together, we are the three nincompoops, all for one and one for all! This morning we had our first episode of "The three nincompoops." We were at Food inc., enjoying our second delicious meal there (vegetable soup, chicken tikka sandwich, and carrot cake) and were trying to figure out if we could pay all together without anyone needing change. Valerie was the banker, telling Carmen, "If you give me this, I'll give her this and she'll give you this." Carmen was confused, holding onto her money and calling it "my precious." I said if we could figure out an efficient way to pay for this meal while sitting at a cafe table, the three nincompoops could really create their own bank.
Anyway, our plane from Glasgow was earlier than we thought, six o'clock, so we had to get our breakfast scones to save for later and had an 11 o'clock brunch at the Food inc. before leaving Edinburgh. Now we're out of Glasgow, on our way to Prestwick airport. It is 2pm and I'm finally caught up in this book for the first time in 2 weeks!
The train honks every once in a while and sounds like it's saying HaHa! with the seesaw intonations. As we left Glasgow we saw some storm clouds approaching. It's ironic that the first British storm since we've been here is right when we're leaving. Even the Scottish clouds are more interesting than American ones. They have a fierce look to them, the white and the dark look as if they're about to attack each other.
We just hit the ocean. We didn't realize this, but Prestwick airport is just as far West of Glasgow as Glasgow is from Edinburgh. I'm so excited--we're seeing the Scottish coast! It's flat here, but there are mountainous islands just off in the distance.
Glasgow, a more industrialized city than Edinburgh, and the largest city in Scotland, still has its own charm from what I've seen of it. The buildings are tall but colored. Of course I only saw the city for about 5 minutes as we walked from the Queen St. Station to the Central Station. Edinburgh, on the other hand, has an almost 18th century feel to it, with cobblestone streets, and shops lining the way. I wanted to explore every building I saw. I could live in any part of Scotland I've seen, from city to country, to town, to industrialized city. I think Stirling was my favorite, and next would be Edinburgh.
Goodbye Scotland? But hopefully not forever.The sea is a streak on my right that disappears into mist in the distance, and the land I'm above looks like the pieces made by cracks in dried mud, only greens and browns, and now blacks, are the colors. We're now over a snaky lake, a beautiful dusty blue. The cotton clouds seem to be setting on the ridges of the hills. There are small lakes all over, and now they are connecting to another bay on my left as I look sideways out the window.
Now we're on the edge of the bay and the fingers of land reaching into the ocean seem to be floating in midair, so close is the color of the water to the dusk. I can't see the horizon between water and sky; a thin veil of mist coats my view. The land even is dimming.
I forgot to mention earlier that at the Wallace Monument shop at the bottom of the hill, I bought a book of Scottish fairy tales for only £2.50. I'm reading it now. They are, so far, nice stories but they lack purpose. I may have to retell some of the, or create visualizations for my children.
I love it how the lights below
make the land glow with the fire
of volcanic rocks.
There's a sea of clouds below me, bundled into rolls, but every so often they thin a little and I can catch a glimpse of golden lights of mortal life. They seem to say, here sits a happy home, where with open arms we welcome our own, wherever they chance to be.
What makes the tire tracks in the clouds? The finest jewelry of the earth is civilization from the sky.
I seem to be looking at a layered earth. The surface is the last blue light of the sunset, then the thick gray clouds to dig through, then boring deep down I see the gold veins intertwining in the deep black dirt. The city below seems a world apart from my sunset, a light blue above, dark gray cloud, and line of red underneath. The world below is already black. One is night and one is day. Though now in the distance the thin red line seems to draw the gold to it. Is a volcano erupting? Are those just pools of lava on charred ground? Is this the land of Mordor? I want a painting of this sight.
The volcano settles, but the pools still glow. The pools end abruptly with the coast and there is nothingness. The tip of the plane wing breaks the fading red streak.
We're approaching France and all the light is gone. Just the charred earth with small swipes of gold here and there. Gone is the familiar; here is the unknown, but it can be more exciting, if not as settling.
Well it seems to be a beautiful morning, but I'm sad because we're leaving Scotland today. Paris should be fun, though. I'm also a little worried because I haven't finished my studio project yet. I have simply been too tired to work on it. Hopefully the hotel in Paris will be inviting enough that I won't mind working there. I tried the first night in Scotland, but I got really hyper and started singing and dancing about the room with Carmen, so all my energy left me.
It's about 9 in the morning. Val & Carm are still asleep but I've been awake for a while, thinking about a silly medieval story I might write about a stone spiral staircase. I went to sleep before 10pm last night, so I got a good 10 hours.
I'm a little concerned. I didn't mention it before, but Tuesday evening American time (the middle of the night here) President Bush gave Saddam Hussein 48 hours to disarm and leave Iraq or they would go to war. It's been 48 hour and Saddam, of course, has no intention of backing down. The problem is that the French are totally against the war and anti-American right now. In America they've even renamed French fries "Liberty" fries. So if they even let us into the country (which they better, because we have plane reservations), we'll have to keep a low profile. Maybe Carmen can speak Spanish to the French people rather than us trying to speak English. [In retrospect, these worries were paranoid and stupid]
Yesterday we got up, and got our raisin scones and milk at the Elephant's Sufficiency. Then we hopped on a train to Stirling. It took us about 15 minutes to walk up the hill to the castle and we caught the beginning of a walking tour. I believe I liked Stirling Castle even more than Edinburgh Castle. There was a statue of Robert the Bruce out at the front (I need to figure out how exactly I'm related to him). There isn't as much as far as museums, less information, but a ton more to explore. When I went through the Palace I kept having trouble deciding which hall to turn down, but everywhere I went, I always ended up coming back the way I hadn't seen, so it was all right. I love the wood ceiling of the Great Hall. The kitchens were neat, with models of food and people working, and when there were other tourists in there it was impossible to tell how many people were in the room, it was so crowded.
Then there was the Nether Bailey, a huge terrace on a lower level than the rest of the castle complex. The grass was so green and the rocks so appealing that I had to climb them from one level to the next. Then I walked around the sidewalk at the edge of the cliff until I came to a dead end at the wall up to the rest of the castle. I just walked along that wall, on a steep grassy slope, until I came back around to the main entrance of the Nether Bailey (I had to jump down a small stone wall).
The guide at the beginning told us that Douglas Gardens were haunted by the eighth Earl of Douglas, who was killed by James II. "But what goes around comes around," he said, "for James II was killed a few years later when he stood too close to one of his own cannons."
When I was at the castle I left Carmen and Valerie to explore on my own, but we met back up and ate lunch on a ledge that sloped down to overlook a beautiful graveyard below. Next we hurried out because we thought we would have to walk the 2 miles to the Wallace Monument. We passed by the Argyll's Lodging on the way down and since we got in with our castle tickets, we walked through the house quickly. It was a neat house and would have been quite interesting had we not been in such a hurry. The nice lady in the shop there gave us directions to the Monument, but recommended we take a cab so we would have time to enjoy ourselves. The cab ended up being only £3, less than what a bus would've cost for the three of us.
The Wallace Monument is a tower (278 steps) on top of Abbey Craig, a steep hill near Stirling. Between the monument and the city is Stirling bridge, where the Scots under William Wallace beat the crap out of the English. 1297. Then in 1314, of course, was Bannockburn, where the Scots finally won independence under Robert the Bruce.
So we climbed the road and panted a lot, up to the Wallace Monument. Once inside the tower, there is a shop on the ground floor (I've really grown to love tourist shops) and a tiny spiral staircase up. I figured that 3 revolutions of the staircase take you up one floor. The first room up was a display of William Wallace's life (what they know of it), and his 5'5" sword was in a glass case there. The next room up had the busts of many Scottish heroes (including Scott, Robert the Bruce, and many people I hadn't heard of). There were stained glass windows of William Wallace, Robert the Bruce, and two anonymous Scottish Soldiers. The third room was a timeline on all four walls about the history of Stirling. Finally, above that, was the roof, with great views in all directions, and a beautiful stone rib up above with four base points.
It was up there that the three of us got into our crazy moods and decided to have nicknames. Valerie is "retard" stemming from her exclamations the night before of "seriously, why am I retarded?" Carmen is "dork" because Valerie always calls her that in fun, anyway. I am "idiot" which fits with my "idiot's day in Verona. Together, we are the three nincompoops, all for one and one for all! This morning we had our first episode of "The three nincompoops." We were at Food inc., enjoying our second delicious meal there (vegetable soup, chicken tikka sandwich, and carrot cake) and were trying to figure out if we could pay all together without anyone needing change. Valerie was the banker, telling Carmen, "If you give me this, I'll give her this and she'll give you this." Carmen was confused, holding onto her money and calling it "my precious." I said if we could figure out an efficient way to pay for this meal while sitting at a cafe table, the three nincompoops could really create their own bank.
Anyway, our plane from Glasgow was earlier than we thought, six o'clock, so we had to get our breakfast scones to save for later and had an 11 o'clock brunch at the Food inc. before leaving Edinburgh. Now we're out of Glasgow, on our way to Prestwick airport. It is 2pm and I'm finally caught up in this book for the first time in 2 weeks!
The train honks every once in a while and sounds like it's saying HaHa! with the seesaw intonations. As we left Glasgow we saw some storm clouds approaching. It's ironic that the first British storm since we've been here is right when we're leaving. Even the Scottish clouds are more interesting than American ones. They have a fierce look to them, the white and the dark look as if they're about to attack each other.
We just hit the ocean. We didn't realize this, but Prestwick airport is just as far West of Glasgow as Glasgow is from Edinburgh. I'm so excited--we're seeing the Scottish coast! It's flat here, but there are mountainous islands just off in the distance.
Glasgow, a more industrialized city than Edinburgh, and the largest city in Scotland, still has its own charm from what I've seen of it. The buildings are tall but colored. Of course I only saw the city for about 5 minutes as we walked from the Queen St. Station to the Central Station. Edinburgh, on the other hand, has an almost 18th century feel to it, with cobblestone streets, and shops lining the way. I wanted to explore every building I saw. I could live in any part of Scotland I've seen, from city to country, to town, to industrialized city. I think Stirling was my favorite, and next would be Edinburgh.
Goodbye Scotland? But hopefully not forever.The sea is a streak on my right that disappears into mist in the distance, and the land I'm above looks like the pieces made by cracks in dried mud, only greens and browns, and now blacks, are the colors. We're now over a snaky lake, a beautiful dusty blue. The cotton clouds seem to be setting on the ridges of the hills. There are small lakes all over, and now they are connecting to another bay on my left as I look sideways out the window.
Now we're on the edge of the bay and the fingers of land reaching into the ocean seem to be floating in midair, so close is the color of the water to the dusk. I can't see the horizon between water and sky; a thin veil of mist coats my view. The land even is dimming.
I forgot to mention earlier that at the Wallace Monument shop at the bottom of the hill, I bought a book of Scottish fairy tales for only £2.50. I'm reading it now. They are, so far, nice stories but they lack purpose. I may have to retell some of the, or create visualizations for my children.
I love it how the lights below
make the land glow with the fire
of volcanic rocks.
There's a sea of clouds below me, bundled into rolls, but every so often they thin a little and I can catch a glimpse of golden lights of mortal life. They seem to say, here sits a happy home, where with open arms we welcome our own, wherever they chance to be.
What makes the tire tracks in the clouds? The finest jewelry of the earth is civilization from the sky.
I seem to be looking at a layered earth. The surface is the last blue light of the sunset, then the thick gray clouds to dig through, then boring deep down I see the gold veins intertwining in the deep black dirt. The city below seems a world apart from my sunset, a light blue above, dark gray cloud, and line of red underneath. The world below is already black. One is night and one is day. Though now in the distance the thin red line seems to draw the gold to it. Is a volcano erupting? Are those just pools of lava on charred ground? Is this the land of Mordor? I want a painting of this sight.
The volcano settles, but the pools still glow. The pools end abruptly with the coast and there is nothingness. The tip of the plane wing breaks the fading red streak.
We're approaching France and all the light is gone. Just the charred earth with small swipes of gold here and there. Gone is the familiar; here is the unknown, but it can be more exciting, if not as settling.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)