To be frank, I don't really know where to begin.
Let's start on Wednesday night, the eve before my departure for Torino. My friends and I had decided to go for the long Thanksgiving weekend. We picked this city on account of our recent obsession with Northern Italy. Sorry, Tuscany. But not really. Torino is just a little more north than our initial love, Milan, so we figured it was worth a try. So as I laid in my bed, recovering from a large Thanksgiving feast, I began to concoct a series of possible events that could unfold in Torino. I like playing that game. Some may argue that this will only result in disappointment at some point in my life, but really it just keeps me entertained. Right, so my mind began to wander and for whatever reason, it settled on James Franco. Now I must tell you: I am a fan. He is by no means my all time biggest celebrity crush, but I really like the guy and I appreciate his want to become an English Doctor and save the words. (Creative writing PhD candidate. Hell yes.) So I imagined him being on the train to Torino, the two of us striking up a conversation about writing and then, after realizing our incredible intellectual companionship, we essentially become best friends and I convince him to come speak at Wooster. (This also ties in with my fantasy of becoming a well respected member of the English department, but I think that is even less likely to happen than the James Franco companionship.) I tossed and turned that night, anticipating my day of travel. Also, I thought about the best way of getting James' attention.
The train ride to Torino was long but absolutely well worth it. I think I will venture to say that it is my favorite European city that I've visited. Seriously. And I've been to San Gimignano so that's really saying something. I arrived there on the night of Thanksgiving, and we celebrated the classic American holiday with pizza and beer. That sounds pretty American to me. Our hostel was a pleasant surprise; the doors locked and the rooms were warm! Not only this, but our stay came with complimentary breakfast. Torino surely knows how to win my heart. It should also be noted that upon sitting on my bed for the first time, it broke in half. I pieced it back together as best as I could. And, as an added bonus, when the mattress was off for repairs, we used the bed frame as a bottle opener!
The next day we ventured towards the center of the city, oohing and ahhing over palaces and buildings, letting ourselves into courtyards and actually having fairly intellectual conversations about art and architecture. In no time at all, we found the Mole Antonelliana, which is not only the tallest brick building in Europe but also the home of the National Cinema Museum. Let. me. tell. you. something. Going to this Cinema Museum was seriously one of the best decisions I've ever made. I like movies. I like movies quite a bit, actually. But this museum was incredible. It began with shadow boxes and the development of moving non-human entertainment from probably 5 or 600 years ago. From there, the history of the camera was introduced, and then the addition of sound to film and then it just became a mass of movie artifacts, ranging from the original draft of the Godfather pt II script and all of the original prototypes of Star Wars costumes. The current exhibit is horror movies, and framed posters and information lined probably 5 floors of the winding central area. As if it couldn't get any cooler, we then took an elevator up to the roof so we could enjoy the panoramic view. And what a view it was! You want to know why? Because we could see the Alps. They are substantially more impressive than the mountains we have in Akron.
The Torino Film Festival was this past weekend. Seriously. Of ALL the weekends I could have gone to Torino, I just so happened to go on the weekend of a very important, very legitimate film festival. When we left the Cinema Museum, people had began to line up at various kiosks to buy tickets for the week's showings. We got our hands on some programs and Becca said, "Hey, 127 Hours. That's the new James Franco movie."
Time out. The who in the what now? Are you serious? Of all delusional fantasies in the entire world that I could have ever fabricated, my mind managed to settle on one that suddenly became a quasi reality? Score. Done and done. Tickets bought on the spot. Saturday, 10 pm. James and Me. Torino Film Festival, you are the best.
We encountered some friendly old men at the information kiosk who made mention of our beautiful smiles and asked us to please never leave Torino. I can't say that I was completely against this idea. Hannah had the good mind to ask them about ways to get to the Alps and, sure enough, they knew exactly where to send us. They even looked it up for us on the internet, even though they were exclusively Film Fest information givers. So we were off to the train station! We bought some cheap tickets for an early train the next morning that would take us to Bardonecchia. None of us knew anything about it except it was in the mountains. I think there was a collective gasp from the four of us as the train made its way through the Alps. I am from the Midwest. We simply do not have things of this nature. Emily was elated because they reminded her so much of the Rockies. I was elated at the fact that my elevation was actually changing. As we got closer to Bardonecchia, though, we realized that the landscape was very run down...lots of abandoned factories and motor homes. That was more like Ohio. And then, when we finally reached the station, the scenery had not really changed. We got out, looked around at the nothingness, and then walked through the station.
Oh, here it is! What an absolutely adorable little mountain village. Seriously. And, according to geography, I think we were more or less straddling the French border. We were surrounded by the Alps and snow on all sides, every shop window was completely adorned in Christmas decor and the city, though incredibly small, was somewhat bustling. Did it resemble Hogsmeade? Yeah, I think it did. We had lunch at a diner-esque restaurant and then we moved next door for pastries and coffee. The latter half of that was mostly because the city shut down for a 4 hour lunch break. I saw lots of snow and mountains and, even though my toes were approaching numbness, I was more than pleased.
SATURDAY NIGHT. Did you know that international film festivals are really serious? We got to the theatre about 20 minutes before the movie and the line was out the door. We essentially went through 3 or 4 stages of security. Our tickets were checked, torn and scanned. Then all cell phones and cameras were to be put in special sealed bags that were pretty hard to open again. The theatre was HUGE and packed-I'd guess it sat maybe 400ish people? 500? I am terrible at estimations of this nature so just trust me when I say a lot of people were there. We sat in the second row all the way to the left but I could still see the screen just fine. Are you familiar with 127 Hours? It's the story of Aron Ralston, the American canyoneer who cut off his own arm in order to live. The opening moments of the movie were filled with James Franco just doing crazy shit, furthering the point that he's this adventurous character who is up for anything. The worst part (or maybe it was better) is that I knew exactly what was going to happen so it was a matter of just waiting. In the meantime, I managed to say aloud "You know what? This is some stupid shit Terry would pull." And then I crossed my arms and hunkered down in my chair and got mad at Terry for not telling me he was going biking in the desert. Sorry, Terry. I didn't mean to get mad at you for not actually doing anything but imagining you as this character who, indeed, has to cut his own arm off. AND BOY DID HE EVER. Oh, they showed it. They totally showed it. I even knew it was coming and I knew it was fake but still...gah. Guh. Ouch. I don't even want to go into detail about it. Just know that if you go see it...you're going to see it. It also really helped knowing that he survives because I atleast had that to look forward to. It wasn't like Into the Wild where I had spent 2.5 hours rooting for someone and then just feeling a little empty. (But his liberation from society was so inspiring! Yes, I know that, but when super cuties don't survive, I get a little sad.) Also, it should be noted that when James finally sees the light of day again and we KNOW he is going to be rescued and live, Sigur Ros' "Festival" is played and it is literally the most triumphant movie moment I have ever witnessed and now I want "Festival" to be my personal theme music. I want it to be played when I get off the plane in Cleveland. I want it to be played when I have my first child. I want it to be played when I walk into school tomorrow. But just the last 5 of the 9 minutes, please.
Wait, did you expect me to get to meet James Franco? I know I did. I thought that there would be some kind of question and answer session afterwards. I had a few questions readily prepared, such as:
-When does Tristan and Isolde 2 come out?
-Did you really cut your arm off for this role?
-What are you doing later?
Needless to say, he was not there so I was unable to begin our life long best friendship. I'm not too worried-some things are simply meant to happen. On the bright side, though, I spent most of today googling images of James Franco and listening to NPR podcast interviews with him.
Did I mention that Torino is exactly how I've always pictured the North Pole? Every year the city commissions 20 artists to create massive light installations that are hung above all the streets. It's a pretty impressive sight. On the last day as we walked to the tram stop, it began to snow. Christmas, I await you with open arms.
Lesson: Always leave a note. Seriously. Aron Ralston didn't tell anyone where he was going and he lost his arm. Think about it. I mentioned this to Terry and he told me to please stop worrying about him. He also told me to please stop worrying about the possibility of dying in a stampede on an over populated bridge. "Just don't go on bridges if there's alot of people." And that's the thinking that got him into grad school.
20 DAYS LEFT IN ITALY. insane? yes. get the Sigur Ros ready.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Movies with Fabs (i film con Fabs)
I would like to begin with a brief list:
Movies that Fabio likes
Behind Enemy Lines
The 300
The Fugitive
The Jackal
I know there are others that could be added to this list, such as The Godfather which he has on special edition DVD. By the by, I am hoping to work up the nerve to casually bring it into conversation and then ask him if we can please please please watch it together. Because can a situation really get more Italian than that? (Well, there was the Michael Jackson impersonator dancing in front of the Colosseum, but that's neither here nor there.) Fabio reacts so wonderfully to the movies that are played on Rai 5 Grande Fiction. "Ooooh, bellissimo," he will sigh, watching the commercials longingly. And then, as though fate couldn't have planned it any better, the commercial informs him that YES this movie is on tonight! Instead of turning in early, Fabio always takes up his usual spot on the couch and watches a movie he has seen numerous times, reacting as though it is all a surprise.
Personal favorite reactions include, but are not limited to:
-A scene in the 300 in which a pile of dead bodies is displayed on the screen. Two soldiers exchange a few words. I can't remember the words. Fabio grins, literally ear to ear and exclaims, no, guffaws! "Bellissimo! Ohh, Katie, Katie, guarda, bellissimo." And then he laughs for a very long time. I just assume that because the 300 is about his people, he is more "in" on the jokes.
-The other night after watching a show about great white sharks, Fabio was flipping through the channels. Suddenly, Harrison Ford's grizzled face appeared on the screen. HELL YES THE FUGITIVE. Fabio and I looked at eachother and exclaimed, "HARRISON FORD!!" And then, "Oh, conosci questa film? Katie, you know? Conosci? Ohhh, bellissimo, bellissimo!" When Fabio is watching a movie he really likes, he sits, grinning and shaking his head, amazed that a movie like this could ever be made. The only con to this particular scenario: The infamous Tommy Lee Jones "I don't care!" was lost because, well, it's dubbed. I miss American voices.
-A preview for the Expendables came on a few months ago. He literally stopped whatever it was he was doing, probably tending to a child, and he stared at the screen with his mouth wide open. Once the preview was over he turned to me very slowly and said, in English, "This....this is my film." I have no idea if he ever got the chance to see it.
-One time we were watching War of the Worlds. After an especially heroic scene in which Tom Cruise is literally the only human being still alive, Fabio very calmly says, "This is what it will be like in 2012." And then he continued to laugh laugh laugh at Tom Cruise, because why would he be the only person still alive? Of all the people in the world, WHY Tom Cruise? That seemed to be Fabio's biggest concern. And, come to think of it, that might be mine as well.
Tonight, Rai 5 is showing The Jackal ("con Richard Gere e Bruce Willis!"). I know that it is still on because I can hear it through my bedroom wall. When the preview came on during dinner, Fabio began to smile and shake his head, alerting me that I should turn around and see which movie would be played later. And of course..."Katie, conosci? The Jackal! Richard Gere e buono ma...Bruce Willis...cativo. Oh, bellissimo." And that's true, because that Bruce Willis really is quite cativo in all of his swarmy disguises. I hadn't originally planned to watch the movie with Fabio because it was coloring and balloon time with Margherita-this happens alot. She tells me what to do so I do it. I was peacefully sketching my rendition of a classic Christmas scene, complete with a "Natale in 33 giorni!!!" caption when a stray balloon from Arianna landed on the table, knocking a lamp to the floor causing it to crash into millions of pieces. Margherita and Arianna looked at each other. Then they looked at me. I really was of no help because at that point I was drawing a sleeping Chester in front of a fire place. Fabio called to Barbara and as soon as the three of us realized she was coming, we went into bat-shit-I-swear-I-didn't-do-it-please-still-love-me-mode. Possibly me more than the others. Sure enough it was an absolute epic show down, with LOTS of tears and LOTS of screaming. Meanwhile, I had managed to silently slide out and slink onto the couch. And, sure enough, The Jackal was playing. The arguing and yelling and crying (sooooo much crying) went on for quite some time. I sat awkwardly on the couch, feeling guilty for nothing but wondering if I should have stepped in at some point and put a stop to the ballooning. (Easier said than done, I assure you.) Once the girls were in their rooms, screaming and kicking and crying and throwing and God knows what else, Fabio turns to me and says,
"The Joh-kal. Jah? Joh-kal? Come se dice?
"Jah? Yeah like this. Jah? Kol. Like. The Jackal."
"Jackal?"
"Yeah, Jackal."
"Jah-kol? Theee Jackal! Bruce Willis, molto cativo..."
And that's how I avoided getting in trouble for not actually doing something but totally feeling like an accomplice in the Great Lamp Debacle of 2010.
Hey I went to Rome. It was ok. I'll write about that when Fabio stops being hilarious. (AKA never)
Lesson: Maybe I should stop riling up the girls before bed. On the other hand, that Rai 5 sure plays great movies.
Movies that Fabio likes
Behind Enemy Lines
The 300
The Fugitive
The Jackal
I know there are others that could be added to this list, such as The Godfather which he has on special edition DVD. By the by, I am hoping to work up the nerve to casually bring it into conversation and then ask him if we can please please please watch it together. Because can a situation really get more Italian than that? (Well, there was the Michael Jackson impersonator dancing in front of the Colosseum, but that's neither here nor there.) Fabio reacts so wonderfully to the movies that are played on Rai 5 Grande Fiction. "Ooooh, bellissimo," he will sigh, watching the commercials longingly. And then, as though fate couldn't have planned it any better, the commercial informs him that YES this movie is on tonight! Instead of turning in early, Fabio always takes up his usual spot on the couch and watches a movie he has seen numerous times, reacting as though it is all a surprise.
Personal favorite reactions include, but are not limited to:
-A scene in the 300 in which a pile of dead bodies is displayed on the screen. Two soldiers exchange a few words. I can't remember the words. Fabio grins, literally ear to ear and exclaims, no, guffaws! "Bellissimo! Ohh, Katie, Katie, guarda, bellissimo." And then he laughs for a very long time. I just assume that because the 300 is about his people, he is more "in" on the jokes.
-The other night after watching a show about great white sharks, Fabio was flipping through the channels. Suddenly, Harrison Ford's grizzled face appeared on the screen. HELL YES THE FUGITIVE. Fabio and I looked at eachother and exclaimed, "HARRISON FORD!!" And then, "Oh, conosci questa film? Katie, you know? Conosci? Ohhh, bellissimo, bellissimo!" When Fabio is watching a movie he really likes, he sits, grinning and shaking his head, amazed that a movie like this could ever be made. The only con to this particular scenario: The infamous Tommy Lee Jones "I don't care!" was lost because, well, it's dubbed. I miss American voices.
-A preview for the Expendables came on a few months ago. He literally stopped whatever it was he was doing, probably tending to a child, and he stared at the screen with his mouth wide open. Once the preview was over he turned to me very slowly and said, in English, "This....this is my film." I have no idea if he ever got the chance to see it.
-One time we were watching War of the Worlds. After an especially heroic scene in which Tom Cruise is literally the only human being still alive, Fabio very calmly says, "This is what it will be like in 2012." And then he continued to laugh laugh laugh at Tom Cruise, because why would he be the only person still alive? Of all the people in the world, WHY Tom Cruise? That seemed to be Fabio's biggest concern. And, come to think of it, that might be mine as well.
Tonight, Rai 5 is showing The Jackal ("con Richard Gere e Bruce Willis!"). I know that it is still on because I can hear it through my bedroom wall. When the preview came on during dinner, Fabio began to smile and shake his head, alerting me that I should turn around and see which movie would be played later. And of course..."Katie, conosci? The Jackal! Richard Gere e buono ma...Bruce Willis...cativo. Oh, bellissimo." And that's true, because that Bruce Willis really is quite cativo in all of his swarmy disguises. I hadn't originally planned to watch the movie with Fabio because it was coloring and balloon time with Margherita-this happens alot. She tells me what to do so I do it. I was peacefully sketching my rendition of a classic Christmas scene, complete with a "Natale in 33 giorni!!!" caption when a stray balloon from Arianna landed on the table, knocking a lamp to the floor causing it to crash into millions of pieces. Margherita and Arianna looked at each other. Then they looked at me. I really was of no help because at that point I was drawing a sleeping Chester in front of a fire place. Fabio called to Barbara and as soon as the three of us realized she was coming, we went into bat-shit-I-swear-I-didn't-do-it-please-still-love-me-mode. Possibly me more than the others. Sure enough it was an absolute epic show down, with LOTS of tears and LOTS of screaming. Meanwhile, I had managed to silently slide out and slink onto the couch. And, sure enough, The Jackal was playing. The arguing and yelling and crying (sooooo much crying) went on for quite some time. I sat awkwardly on the couch, feeling guilty for nothing but wondering if I should have stepped in at some point and put a stop to the ballooning. (Easier said than done, I assure you.) Once the girls were in their rooms, screaming and kicking and crying and throwing and God knows what else, Fabio turns to me and says,
"The Joh-kal. Jah? Joh-kal? Come se dice?
"Jah? Yeah like this. Jah? Kol. Like. The Jackal."
"Jackal?"
"Yeah, Jackal."
"Jah-kol? Theee Jackal! Bruce Willis, molto cativo..."
And that's how I avoided getting in trouble for not actually doing something but totally feeling like an accomplice in the Great Lamp Debacle of 2010.
Hey I went to Rome. It was ok. I'll write about that when Fabio stops being hilarious. (AKA never)
Lesson: Maybe I should stop riling up the girls before bed. On the other hand, that Rai 5 sure plays great movies.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Now that I'm a world traveller...
I just noticed that my total number of blog posts for this semester is an astounding 10. How many is enough, do you think? You also must consider that I wrote two of those entries while still in Ohio (the Heart of it All.) I apologize for being a fairly lazy blogger, but with my intense schedule of volleyball, playing school, conducting Princess photo shoots and writing my Dragon story, I am pretty much booked from now until December 18. I just won't know what to do with all of my down time once I am back at Wooster in the spring.
So I went on a trip! As it turns out, I really enjoy traveling, especially when it goes as smoothly as it did for us. Last Friday we began our day by catching the 7:50 am bus to Florence. There is nothing I like more than waking up early for a day of tromping around a city and looking at churches. Wait, I take that back. We went back to the Uffizi Gallery and spent more time in the Bodicelli room, though I very distinctly remember zoning out for a fair amount of that lecture. I like art, but as it turns out I am really bad at paying attention when it is being talked about. While listening to the presentation of Prima Vera by Bodicelli, I managed to simultaneously imagine my future, only the next 3-5 years, and it mostly involved working my way up at a major television network and becoming the head writer at some show. I hadn't really developed the show itself, but I did come up with a really stellar wardrobe for the professional years. Also, I am going to have a good haircut.
The end of our day in Florence was happily welcomed and, even better, I got to see Margaret! Seeing people from home while abroad is admittedly a little strange. I've grown so used to giving small introductions before talking about friends from home, where Margaret and I automatically jumped into stories about Biz without any explanation. On the other hand, I often jump into stories about Biz without any explanation; it's funnier that way. The next day, Saturday, the group did some walking around the city before boarding our train to Milan. Even though the train ride was nearly 4 hours, I found it to be really enjoyable. You know why? Because we had a compartment! This has been my dream for a good many years-blame Harry Potter. You better believe that I ran Dementor jokes into the ground. (Oh, just you wait until I get to London...) At around 7:30 that evening, we arrived in Milan. Milano Centrale, the station, is massive-quite impressive and beautiful, actually. With the help of our good friend, Rick Steeves, we found our way to the hostel.
In case you were wondering where the most beautiful men in the world live, the answer is Milan. In fact, many of them work the front counter at La Cortada, the hostel where we stayed. Write that name down. When you go to Milan, you can see for yourself. Our stay in Milan can mostly be summed up in a few words: Food, Rain, Art, Daniel. I ate the best gnocchi I've ever had at an Asian run Italian restaurant that showed Rocky V all night. It rained literally every second we were there. I went through many socks. One of the highlights of my entire European experience was going to the Brera Galleria and seeing Caravaggio's Supper at Emmaus. I drooled a little bit. I wish I could e-mail my old Baroque Art History professor and tell her THAT I SAW IT. I wrote a final paper on it last fall. I got an A on it. But that's neither here nor there. I also saw some Gentileschi (papa, not daughter) a real live Rembrandt, and a good number of Dutch artists who I'm fond of. See, I'm much better at looking at art all by myself. Because when I start to zone out I can move onto the next piece. What did I forget? Oh, right. Daniel. All time favorite counter worker at La Cordata. We day tripped to Lake Como on Monday. One of the most beautiful places in the world? George Clooney lives there so it's a good possibility. Overall, our review of Milan is pretty glowing. And to make the stay even better, none of us got pick pocketed. Take that, child beggars.
Tuesday we left for London. You know what they have in London? The English language, cheeseburgers and Starbucks. I cannot even begin to adequately describe my happiness. Italian food is really good. I don't think I have to present that as a late breaking observation. But as soon as something else was an option, it occurred to me how very very very much I miss my old eating habits. For example, I walked into a London convenience store and bought a bag of Doritos and a Coke and in one fell swoop, it was all gone. I drank Starbucks like it was my job. (They have their Christmas cups out, by the way-is it like that in America?) I ate bagels and ice cream and PEANUT BUTTER and Japanese food and there was a Burger King on every corner. It was good to be fake home.
What did I do in London? I saw stuff. We stayed with Becca's aunt and uncle who live maybe 2 blocks from Abbey Road studios. My first encounter with the famous crosswalk was a very here it is moment. What you might not know about Abbey Road is that it is actually a very busy area; watching people attempt to re-create the Beatles album cover is really entertaining because they are constantly dodging cars. I watched a group of 4 French boys take the shot over and over again because it was never perfect enough. It was a cold day. In spite of this, they committed fully and the 3rd boy in line went shoeless. And why not? The more we walked around the area, especially en route to the tube station, going across the Abbey Road crosswalk became very routine. I can only assume that the people in St. John's Wood (the neighborhood) hate tourists. Then again, I hate tourists so I just project this assumption on to all people the world over. You're welcome.
Millennium Bridge and St. Paul
If you walk down the Thames, you can see everything that's ever been printed on a London postcard. We got off the tube at St. Paul, walked across the Millennium Bridge (Remember when the Death Eaters blew it up? In Harry Potter, not in life?) saw the Globe Theatre (Remember when Shakespeare worked there? That was real life) and then continued our walk until it ran us directly into Big Ben and Parliament. (Remember when V blew up Parliament? Also not in real life.) Parliament was flooded with war protestors-once again, it was good to be fake home. One complaint: I was not that impressed by Buckingham Palace. It was big, yeah. But you are essentially allowed to look through a cast iron gate and that's kind of it. It's a really nice gate, though, so I'll give them that.
We returned to Siena on Sunday evening, just in time for dinner. I was greeted by a screaming Margherita and a Spiderman face painted Arianna. I actually haven't laughed that hard in a long time.
And now I return to normal Siena life. Rome next weekend. Hopefully Switzerland or a similar trip the following. Then, in no time at all, I will be sitting in your basement once again drinking all of your Cokes and passively suggesting we go get food. That last statement really only applies to Jake, but I don't think he reads my blog. So if any of you reading this know Jake, let him know he got a shout out.
Oh, and Margherita yelled at me because of an argument concerning the answer to 8 x 9. The answer is 72. Before I told that story to any of my friends, I did the problem on a calculator just to make sure. Being an English major has really paid off.
Lesson: Travel. You'll like it.
So I went on a trip! As it turns out, I really enjoy traveling, especially when it goes as smoothly as it did for us. Last Friday we began our day by catching the 7:50 am bus to Florence. There is nothing I like more than waking up early for a day of tromping around a city and looking at churches. Wait, I take that back. We went back to the Uffizi Gallery and spent more time in the Bodicelli room, though I very distinctly remember zoning out for a fair amount of that lecture. I like art, but as it turns out I am really bad at paying attention when it is being talked about. While listening to the presentation of Prima Vera by Bodicelli, I managed to simultaneously imagine my future, only the next 3-5 years, and it mostly involved working my way up at a major television network and becoming the head writer at some show. I hadn't really developed the show itself, but I did come up with a really stellar wardrobe for the professional years. Also, I am going to have a good haircut.
The Journey Begins!
The end of our day in Florence was happily welcomed and, even better, I got to see Margaret! Seeing people from home while abroad is admittedly a little strange. I've grown so used to giving small introductions before talking about friends from home, where Margaret and I automatically jumped into stories about Biz without any explanation. On the other hand, I often jump into stories about Biz without any explanation; it's funnier that way. The next day, Saturday, the group did some walking around the city before boarding our train to Milan. Even though the train ride was nearly 4 hours, I found it to be really enjoyable. You know why? Because we had a compartment! This has been my dream for a good many years-blame Harry Potter. You better believe that I ran Dementor jokes into the ground. (Oh, just you wait until I get to London...) At around 7:30 that evening, we arrived in Milan. Milano Centrale, the station, is massive-quite impressive and beautiful, actually. With the help of our good friend, Rick Steeves, we found our way to the hostel.
In case you were wondering where the most beautiful men in the world live, the answer is Milan. In fact, many of them work the front counter at La Cortada, the hostel where we stayed. Write that name down. When you go to Milan, you can see for yourself. Our stay in Milan can mostly be summed up in a few words: Food, Rain, Art, Daniel. I ate the best gnocchi I've ever had at an Asian run Italian restaurant that showed Rocky V all night. It rained literally every second we were there. I went through many socks. One of the highlights of my entire European experience was going to the Brera Galleria and seeing Caravaggio's Supper at Emmaus. I drooled a little bit. I wish I could e-mail my old Baroque Art History professor and tell her THAT I SAW IT. I wrote a final paper on it last fall. I got an A on it. But that's neither here nor there. I also saw some Gentileschi (papa, not daughter) a real live Rembrandt, and a good number of Dutch artists who I'm fond of. See, I'm much better at looking at art all by myself. Because when I start to zone out I can move onto the next piece. What did I forget? Oh, right. Daniel. All time favorite counter worker at La Cordata. We day tripped to Lake Como on Monday. One of the most beautiful places in the world? George Clooney lives there so it's a good possibility. Overall, our review of Milan is pretty glowing. And to make the stay even better, none of us got pick pocketed. Take that, child beggars.
Il Duomo, Milano
Tuesday we left for London. You know what they have in London? The English language, cheeseburgers and Starbucks. I cannot even begin to adequately describe my happiness. Italian food is really good. I don't think I have to present that as a late breaking observation. But as soon as something else was an option, it occurred to me how very very very much I miss my old eating habits. For example, I walked into a London convenience store and bought a bag of Doritos and a Coke and in one fell swoop, it was all gone. I drank Starbucks like it was my job. (They have their Christmas cups out, by the way-is it like that in America?) I ate bagels and ice cream and PEANUT BUTTER and Japanese food and there was a Burger King on every corner. It was good to be fake home.
What did I do in London? I saw stuff. We stayed with Becca's aunt and uncle who live maybe 2 blocks from Abbey Road studios. My first encounter with the famous crosswalk was a very here it is moment. What you might not know about Abbey Road is that it is actually a very busy area; watching people attempt to re-create the Beatles album cover is really entertaining because they are constantly dodging cars. I watched a group of 4 French boys take the shot over and over again because it was never perfect enough. It was a cold day. In spite of this, they committed fully and the 3rd boy in line went shoeless. And why not? The more we walked around the area, especially en route to the tube station, going across the Abbey Road crosswalk became very routine. I can only assume that the people in St. John's Wood (the neighborhood) hate tourists. Then again, I hate tourists so I just project this assumption on to all people the world over. You're welcome.
If you walk down the Thames, you can see everything that's ever been printed on a London postcard. We got off the tube at St. Paul, walked across the Millennium Bridge (Remember when the Death Eaters blew it up? In Harry Potter, not in life?) saw the Globe Theatre (Remember when Shakespeare worked there? That was real life) and then continued our walk until it ran us directly into Big Ben and Parliament. (Remember when V blew up Parliament? Also not in real life.) Parliament was flooded with war protestors-once again, it was good to be fake home. One complaint: I was not that impressed by Buckingham Palace. It was big, yeah. But you are essentially allowed to look through a cast iron gate and that's kind of it. It's a really nice gate, though, so I'll give them that.
We returned to Siena on Sunday evening, just in time for dinner. I was greeted by a screaming Margherita and a Spiderman face painted Arianna. I actually haven't laughed that hard in a long time.
Oh, and Margherita yelled at me because of an argument concerning the answer to 8 x 9. The answer is 72. Before I told that story to any of my friends, I did the problem on a calculator just to make sure. Being an English major has really paid off.
Lesson: Travel. You'll like it.
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