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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