Barcelona, City of Mosaics

Red, white, and blue on the Mediterranean

Casa Mila

Parc Guell

Steps at sunset

Overlooking the city at Parc Guell

Standing under an arch on top of Casa Mila

Yes, I went to Spain last weekend. I know what you're thinking and my last 'out-of-the-country' trip will be in two weeks to Prague, then I'm done! Traveling is really exhausting, especially traveling with RyanAir. Our flight to Barcelona was delayed an hour because the previous flight was hit by lightning mid-flight. Lovely. So they checked the plane out while all of the boarding passengers watched, terrified, from the gate. And I was one of them.

I must put a disclaimer out there. Spain is beautiful, but when one has spent a large amount of time in Italy, truly no other Mediterranean country compares (except France ;). Barcelona is situated right on the water. It has a huge population of Moroccans (which I love). And it is bright with so many mosaics, all credited to Gaudi, the architect.

Marci and I spent an entire day out in the city, from 8am-1:30am. We walked through the old Gothic Quarter, went to the cathedral that was built in the 1100s, walked north of the city to Casa Mila and the Sagrada Familia-both Gaudi masterpieces-where I was approached by a man asking, "Aren't you that girl from the bus last night?" I was totally unaware of any event happening on a bus the night before, so I answered, "No, I'm not that girl." Afterwards we went up to Parc Guell, a park situated above the city overlooking the sea. The city of Barcelona isn't a pretty one when you look at it from above. It is dusty and dirty and hazy. But, down on the streets, that's where the city's beauty lies.

We continued our day of endless walking. Above us workers strung Christmas decorations and in shop windows little Christmas trains moved around on the ground.

Later in the day we met up with our two other roommates who came on a different RyanAir flight. The four of us went on a 'Tapas Tour' with our hostel. We visited four locations-first we ate Tapas and had a glass of Sangria, second we watched a Flamenco show, third we enjoyed the ambiance of another Spanish-style tavern, and fourth we danced the night away at a Discoteca (well, until 1am). Then we crashed for the night only to wake up again at 7:30am to see more sights!

The Flamenco show is one of my highlights of the entire weekend. The passion and intensity they put into it is absolutely mind blowing. The band consists of a guitarist, a drummer on a tiny drum, two clappers, a singer, and the dancer. The claps are so precise that it takes years of training on how to get the claps just right. The singer bounces his voice as if he is doing the 'call to prayer' for Muslims. It was beautiful. And the dancer, well, I have no idea how to describe how fast she moved or with what precision she kept with the drummer. We all watched with our mouths open. When I come home I am going to search for a restaurant with Flamenco dancing-there has to be one somewhere in St. Augustine. :)

Before we left we visited the Picasso Museum, the beach, the location of the former Olympics stadium, many more shops (I bought a pair of shoes handmade in Morocco). I know, I am a bit obsessed with all things Moroccan. I think that is why I liked Spain; it has a vast amount of Moorish influence.

A lot has happened in Florence since my last 'Florentine' post, so I will catch you all up next time. I am falling more and more in love with this city. My roommate, Katie, is always telling me that I have such a passionate love/hate relationship with Florence. haha. It's only because when something happens to me here it is either really good or really bad.....

CIAO!

'FREEDOM' is SCOTTISH Honor

Edinburgh, Scotland

We arrived just as the sun was setting for the day. The grey clouds parted to let the light filter upon the city, but the sun was setting fast. It was breathtaking. It was hard to distinguish what everything was and how the city was laid out. Darkness has that affect. But it made Edinburgh even more mysterious. We walked along the streets, dragging our suitcases behind. I don't ever remember seeing any photographs of the city beforehand, so I was in awe at the many layers of the city (it's built on hills, like Rome) and the many spires that stabbed the night sky. The cityscape was dramatic.

We only had two days to fit everything in. We started with the Edinburgh Castle, the birthplace of Mary, Queen of Scotts. It sits on a hill, overlooking the entire city. Inside, there are numerous museums dedicated to Scottish Military History. In one exhibit there was a letter that was sent from a sister to her brother who was fighting in the first World War. The label read that the letter was written the day after he had already died. Tara and I just stood there trying to fathom what that must have felt like (both of us being older sisters). I started tearing up. At another display from the 1400s the label read that one man was known for his fighting techniques. In one instance he bit out the jugular of his opponent. Ugh! That is brutal! Ironically, he died at 90 in bed. Everything about that castle and the rolling hills behind reminded me of Braveheart. None of my roommates have ever seen Braveheart; I told them that they didn't deserve to be in Scotland. heehee.

We ate breakfast at the Elephant Cafe, the birthplace of Harry Potter. They hadn't seen Braveheart, but they were die hard fans of J.K. Rowling. We walked the Royal Mile, went into St. Giles Cathedral, browsed a few shops, climbed up King Arthur's Seat to catch another magnificent view of the city. King Arthur's Seat is an extinct volcano at the other end of the royal mile-opposite of Edinburgh Castle. It was a steep climb and our fingers were frozen, even inside our gloves. But I had so much energy; I wanted to get to the top before it got dark. I've realized that it takes balance to travel properly. In all of the places we've gone to we make sure we go to a museum, eat in a local restaurant, shop at boutiques found only in that particular city, see historic landmarks, and do something physical. In most cases the physical part is hiking. But I don't mind; Florida doesn't really offer too rugged terrain to climb. And to me, Scotland is the quintessential country for all things nature related. If we were there longer I would have insisted on riding horseback over the hills around Scotland. (There I go daydreaming again)

We did have a fun encounter with a Scott. He was our tour guide for the ghost tour we took late one night. We were there on the eve of Halloween and it is known as one of the most haunted places on earth, so we couldn't help ourselves. Our imaginations ran wild. His name was Jeffery (that could have been his stage name because he was supposed to be a lad from the 17th century who came back to tell us how Edinburgh really was). The four of us were scared out of our wits. Tara more than any of us. And she was singled out as a witch because she was wearing the 'witches color', red! I was accused of being her cohort because I was clutching a red item, my purse. Throughout the tour, which was under the streets of the city in ancient passageways and unused streets, mind you, we erupted into screams before we giggled, embarrassed. I think our guide was having fun with us. Kristen and I had a minor crush going and we waited after the tour for nearly an hour to talk with him. She has a thing for actors; I have a think for Scottish accents. But, to our despair he never came out. We went back to our hostel and to bed after a very long day of walking.

Me, Kristen, our guide, Maddie, and Tara (the witch!)

A lookout from the Edinburgh Castle

William Wallace and I

Carlton Hill, overlooking King Arthur's Seat. Isn't it beautiful!?

Skydiving? I wish. Just jumping at dusk over the city of Edinburgh.

IRISH Eyes Are Smilin'

Castle Ruins at Wicklow, along the Irish Sea.

A local church in the town of Wicklow, 'the garden of Ireland'
John Locke in Trinity College Library

Christ Church Cathedral
The Dublin Marathon with 12,000 runners

Dublin, Ireland

My flight from London to Dublin was earlier than my three traveling roommates, so I left our quaint hotel near Notting Hill at 3:30am. I had called a taxi service the night before to pick me up at that hour in order to catch the airport shuttle at 4:10 and my flight at 6:30. As I stood in the early morning cold a taxi dropped a man off across the street and began to drive away. It was already 3:35am and my taxi had still not shown up, so I chased that taxi yelling as loud as I could with tired eyes and a groggy voice. Fortunately, I made all of my connections on time. But I still don't know if my 'real' taxi ever showed or not.

My friends were not due to arrive in Dublin until 6pm that night. So I had all day to wander the city on my own. It was a nice change after the hectic schedule we had made for ourselves in London. First, I dropped my luggage off at our hostel. Then I found a coffee shop and had a mocha and a muffin. The shop owners were originally from somewhere in the Middle East. I have found that the UK is full of people from all over the world, as opposed to Italy who tends to keep its nationality closed to foreigners.

After my breakfast I wandered the streets and looked at the Dublin Castle from afar (it wasn't that impressive) and the many pubs that lined the street. At Christ Church Cathedral I was allowed to go inside only because a service was about to start. It would be a half an hour before it began, so I sat down and listened to the Irish chior practice. It was beautiful. I thought about staying longer, but the bells ringing outside reminded me of the other parts of the city I had still not seen.

Dublin is a very windy city; all day the wind swirled around my head tangling my curls and drying out my contacts. A few times it rained--it was a mist, really. But the wind blew my umbrella inside out while I stood waiting in line to see the Book of Kells at Trinity College Library. The entire exhibit was layed out well. The first two rooms had panels describing the history of the book, the materials used, the monk scribes who made it, and other displays of similar books of that time. The Book of Kells consists of the four gospels written in Latin. It was written in a particular font and decorated with intricate drawings by the scribes who lived on the island of Iona (off the coast of Scotland) in memory of Saint Columba. Every day a page in the book is turned, therefore, visitors will experience different stories and pictures in the gospels. The day I was there John 7:44-8:7 and Luke 23:51-24:1 were displayed. After the Book of Kells, visitors could tour the old library. Inside the long corridor lined with books were busts of many great men over the centuries. John Locke was among them. I snuck a photo :) The library was amazing; it smelled of musky dust and leathery bindings.

Later in the day I browsed some shops and bought a few souvenirs. I ate lunch at Bewley's Oriental Cafe. It doesn't serve oriental food, rather, it has some good Irish food. I had a bowl of soup with bread and a Bulmer's Irish Cider. It warmed me right up. At lunch I began a conversation with three older Americans who were sitting near me. To my surprise, they were in Dublin for the marathon that would take place the following day. I thought of my dad in that moment and the summer we spent running and rowing (he ran, while I rowed). I suppose 'running a marathon' is making everyone's 'To Do Before I Die' list these days. This was their first International Marathon. I enjoyed talking with them, but it also made me miss home even more so.

After my late lunch I strolled through St. Stephen's Park. On my way out I asked an older gentleman to take my photo on the bridge. After a few tries, he finally got the hang of it. Then he told me that when he was a boy living in Dublin in the early 40s someone blew up the statue of King William of Orange on a horse in the middle of the park. As he walked away at his normal, but hurried pace, I saw Dublin through his eyes. What must it be like to have lived in one city his entire life? What changes in Dublin has he seen over the decades?

At dinner my friends and I met up. We ate Tapas at a Spanish restaurant, then went to an Irish pub for drinks and music, then to an Italian sweets shop for dessert. We ate around the world that night! The Irish pub was quite an experience. People crowded into the small room with music, clinging to their beers and singing along to the very Irish lyrics. It was so much fun. An Irish lad named Barry came over and talked to us for awhile. We thought he was pretty brave to come up to talk to four American girls who kind of made a semi-circle around themselves. But I suppose we had 'tourist' written all over us with our cameras out and our hesitant sips of the dense beers given to us. It was great fun. But I'm still not a fan of beer; it tastes nasty!

The next day we ventured out of the city and into the country. We had to see the Irish rolling hills. We took a bus from Dublin to a little town called Wicklow. It is also the place where the Wicklow Mountains National Park is and the filming location of the movie, P.S. I Love You. Yes, we are a tadbit obsessed with that love story :) The village is near the Irish Sea, so it was even more so windy than in Dublin. Actually, while we were climbing the edge of the cliffs along the ruins of an ancient castle, we had to be careful not to lose our balance. Otherwise the wind would lift us up and over and into the sea below. The contrast of the pale blue sky and the deep blue water with the wet green grass had all of us lost in thought. Ireland is truly breathtakingly beautiful. And its turbulent history makes it even more so interesting. We walked back into town along the river running from the sea. Fishing boats lined the canal and the stench of fish resided under the wind. It reminded me of the summer my family spent in New England. Wicklow had that 'New Englander feel' or perhaps it is New England that has an Irish feel? :)

Next stop, Edinburgh, Scotland (my personal favorite)

A Foggy Day in LONDON Town

An Underground Station
Me on the Millenium Bridge (Tower Bridge is behind me)
Highgate Cemetery
Part of the Courtald Institute of Art (and filming location of The Duchess)

Trafalger Square

London, England.

I went there once, during the summer of 2004 when I was sixteen. My mom and I traveled around London and England, staying at my friend Wally's house. It was a wonderful experience. Now, four years later, I am 21 and much has happened since my first Grand Tour. This time in London I ventured out on my own a lot to see sights that I missed on my first trip.

First on the list was The National Gallery. Three paintings we're studying in my 'Hidden Meanings in Renaissance Art' class are there, so I had to see them up close. The Gallery is free and has an extraordinary amount of art from all periods. After studying Italian law for artworks and state museums I am torn because I think that Italian art should be in Italy, its source nation. Not in England or France, market nations.

Second on the list was the Courtald Institute of Art, a graduate school I am very interested in. Unfortunately, when we stopped by the school, which is near the National Gallery, it was after hours. I talked briefly with the woman at the front desk, but nothing too interesting. I found out that only 75 applicants apply every year, only 12 get in. It is a small, prestigious school that focuses on creating good curators in the art world. London is so big. I'm still not sure if it's the ideal place to be for me.

Especially after losing my three roommates for a few hours. We went two separate ways-I went to Highgate Cemetery and they went on the London Eye. The Underground, I found out, is not always a reliable source of transportation. We missed our meeting time, so I wandered Trafalger Square calling my mom in the States for help. Conveniently, my phone would not call my friend's phone while in the UK and it was about to die. So I had to call my mom and give her their numbers to call them in order for them to meet me at a new location at a new time. Complicated, I know. And very stressful.

But, in the midst of that confusion and a bit of panic too, an angel sat down and talked to me. The first words out of his mouth were, "I'm looking for a bus with the words There may not be a God. written on it." He was an older gentleman who had no idea who I was or what I believed in, but he proceeded to tell me the story of how he saw a bus the other day while sitting in the square with those words written on its side. He was on the lookout for any other buses because he was planning on writing a letter to the Queen about it. It made him upset that such a declaration (not even a question, mind you) would be put up as advertisement. He told me that it goes against everything England stands for and will offend many people, even those that are nonbelievers. He offered one of his gummy bears to me. I accepted. Then we chatted about the weather in Florida and England (at first he thought I was from Spain-I took it as a compliment). He may not have been an angel in the literal sense of the word, but to me in that instance, when I was on the verge of histeria, he saved me. He sat down next to me in the exact moment I was about to burst out crying in the middle of a city with no friends around. God sent me a friend and I will always think of him when I think of London.

Among other London experiences I went to a Victorian Cemetery, Highgate, which is the setting of a novel I once read: Tracy Chevalier's Falling Angels. I went on an hour tour of the cemetery that was created during the Victorian period when people were dying left and right and no room was left in the city for their bodies. It was overgrown and eerie. The Victorians really liked being near to their dead. On my way back from the cemetery I got lost (yes, that happens alot) but a girl from Slovakia walked with me to the Underground Station. On our walk she asked me about the elections (as everyone does these days). It's always interesting to me to hear what the rest of the world thinks, especially people my age. They are very opinionated for not being a citizen and overwhelmingly all are for Obama. This one girl actually refered to McCain as a sinister character from a horror film. I'm not sure where the comparison came from? haha

London was a nice change from the passionate world of Italy. No language barriers. Starbucks at every corner. Movies in English without subtitles (I saw The Duchess in England; I thought it only appropriate). Hardy food. And the list goes on.

Next stop, Dublin, Ireland.

What I've been up to...in pictures.

On top of the bell tower in the Umbrian village, Orvieto
Flowers for sale in Nice in the French Riviera
A sunrise in Florence (yes, I woke up before dawn!)
A sunrise in France, by the Meditteranean
Contemplating in Cortona (about buying a villa like Frances Mayes!)

A Rainy Day in Capri

This past weekend three of my roommates and I went on the school's trip to Pompei, Sorrento, and Capri. It was a very rainy weekend. The sun would peep out only for a couple of hours here and there. On Capri, we arrived with the morning waves. A ferry brought us from Sorrento to Capri. It was a forty minute ride on a boat that shifted from right to left, front to back. It took concentration and balance to stand in one spot. Once we arrived we then took another boat around the island to see it for its breath-taking views. This time the boat was private, so we were able to sit and actually enjoy the scenery instead of fearing death from falling overboard. Our group of about fifty students went under the Lover's Arch and saw where Roman Emporers vacationed with their lovers. We also saw the place where they threw them into the sea when they tired of them. We saw villas on steep cliffs and rocks that resembled elephants (for a moment I thought I was in Thailand again) and monasteries that overlooked the Mediterranean.
After our two boat rides, we were given the rest of the day free. So the four of us trekked to the top of Capri and saw the views from above, this time looking down on the sparkling clear blue water, which was now still. Go figure. We probably took too many pictures, but hey, better to have more than less. (In this case, at least)
At lunch we went to Villa Verde, a restaurant our professor/guide-for-the-weekend reccommended. Apparently, Mariah Carey had dined there before too. It was a funny situation because when we asked for directions to Villa Verde, Lucca, our professor (who reminds me of a Roman soldier), was on his way there with his brother (who was another chaperone). So we ended up eating together. Two Italian men and four American girls. It must have been a sight to see. Really. Because the waiters kept glancing over and making eyes with all of us girls. When we went to leave one of them actually came up to Katie, my roommate, and gave her a slip of paper with two mens' names and phone numbers on it....it was one of those nonchalant, long handshakes in which a "secret" note is passed. It was hysterical! They gave the note to the girl who already has a boyfriend!
After lunch we decided that we actually wanted to feel the water instead of just looking at it. So we hiked down the cliffs on this zig-zag path to the shoreline, which was very small. It was a long hike down because Capri is extremely high up. In the middle of our hike it started raining...again. We made it down safely and Katie and I jumped into the water and swam a bit. The other two girls didn't want to get completely wet (little did they know that soon it would be pouring and none of us had umbrellas). The water was beautiful, clear, smooth, warm, everything you would think the Meditarranean would feel like. The bottom was rocky, no sand. Even the shore had pebbles and sea glass instead of sand. It was a magical moment. I thought of all of the legends of Venus coming out of the sea and the stories of Ulysses coming home to Ithica (an island in the Meditarranean). And in that moment I could believe all of the stories and legends and myths that have been told about the Greeks and Romans and their beloved sea. But the hike back up sobered me up and as I looked out over the sea I couldn't get over the fact that this island, something so beautiful, is only a part of earth. Not heaven. My mind can't even imagine such beauty, something more beautiful than where we already live. But it's out there..

And that was my lovely, rainy day in Capri.
(I did leave out a few details, but I'm running out of internet time)

CIAO!

Busy in Slow Motion

Well, I've been here for a little over a week and already it seems like I've been here forever. As most of you already know, I arrived here on my 21st birthday and without any luggage. Thankfully, it was only about 24 hours that I had to live without any other clothes or shampoo!

Last weekend my new roommates and I ventured up the hill and into Fiesole. The view from above was wonderful! I keep thinking back to the book I read this summer, A Room With A View by E.M. Forster. The subject of having a view seems to come up quite often in Florence. Everywhere I look visual pleasures distract my eyes. If I wasn't scared of being run over by a speeding Vespa I would have my head cocked at an angle looking up continuously. But, the streets are packed with people and the sidewalks are only about two feet wide. The other day I actually got splashed by a dumped bucket! The Indian-Italian man apologized, but I couldn't help thinking about how Florence probably hasn't much changed since Medieval times.

I have now gone to all of my classes at least once. It is going to be a very comical semester because all of my Professors have limited English--some more than others. They are very enthusiastic about the subject they teach, waving their hands in a frenzy. But I still don't feel like I'm at school though. I suppose it's because I'm in a different country and I'll be traveling every weekend and all but one of my classes will be visiting museums on a regular basis! For instance, my World of Museums class meets once a week and all but three of the lessons will be in a museum in Florence!

I have done so much in the past eight or nine days that I have trouble remembering all that I've done. Last night we went out to dinner ON OUR SCHOOL! It was a little restaurant down by the Arno River. They had tables set outside along the bank. Under a terrace a long table was set with meats and cheeses and wines and figs and bread and other unique foods (that I have no idea what it was). It was wonderful! The other evening we all went to the Piazza Santa Croce to celebrate the birth of the Virgin Mary with the Italians. They had a great brass band and lots of paper lanterns. We danced our way through the streets, past the Duomo, and into another piazza across town. It was so much fun! Some of the band were really cute too! My roommate, Kristen, and I picked out our favorites...and of course mine had long hair! haha

Tomorrow we go to Siena, then Saturday and Sunday we go to Pompeii, Capri, and Sorrento!
And next weekend we're going to the Florence vs. Bologna soccer game!

Fiesole

Fiesole gives a gorgeous view of Florence! (look for the Duomo behind me)
A view of the Florentine valley from the church in Fiesole.






Thoughts on Florence:

The city is still hot and sticky from the summer heat. Tourists still crowd the Duomo and the surrounding area. Their heads always turned upward while keeping their bags close in front. Little flags are seen bouncing down streets as far as the eye can see. The Florence I visited four years ago hasn't much changed. Yet September brings the hope of a city I have not yet explored. A breeze picks up every now and again, proving that fall is coming. After dusk, when the tourists have all left for the day and the shops on the Ponte Vecchio are closing their doors, the city begins showing its softer side. The pale pinks and greens that adorn the Duomo give off a glow that only comes with the night's lights and its shadows. The city slows down. There are empty gaps in the piazzas that only hours before were filled with lines and groups of people. This is another glimpse of Firenze in autunno.