To Torino, with love.

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.