I Have Returned Home from My Journeys
I am successfully returned from the Olde Country! It was a shocking and wonderful experience and so here is my journal entry and photos which will not do it justice in the least. Sorry for the wall of text, skip over boring parts if you feel the need:
I spent the evening before we left on an Emu-Hunt. It is pretty much just as it sounds. For those who do not know, Emus are prehistoric-looking birds that ar much bigger and faster than human beings and sounds like Raptors. They are also very intelligent and glare at you with large, claculating eyes. My aunt has three Emus, and one escaped, so we hand to track it down several miles from her house. Luckily we were able to herd it back into her trailer without any significant casualties. (No photos are available, unfortunately.)
Day 1. Plane Ride. Uneventful. I had a sinus infection and was not feeling well. When we landed my congestion and the air pressure caused some serious damage to my ears, and I had a lot of trouble hearing for the first half of the trip.
Restaurants/Waiters: Flight Attendants: uninteresting.
Photos:
We are getting drunk in Charlotte. We are excited.
Day 2: We land in Paris and arrive at our hotel at 10:30 am Paris time, 4:30 am US time. I take a shower and sleep for an hour. Then we investigate The Paris. Our hotel is on a narrow twisting street that cups us in silence although we are right on the busy street of the Left Bank. We look at Notre Dame and then go to see St. Denis, a chapel of the French King which has beautiful stained glass windows. Sadly, it was full of tourists, which sort of ruined that awe and holiness part and just left the "Man those French kings to throw money around" aftertaste. Then we went to the Concierge. It was not someone who helps you at a hotel. It was a museum dedicated to victims of the guillotine in the French Revolution, including Marie Antoinette. It was well done and very eerie and respectful towards the dead.
Restaurant/Waiters: we ate lunch at a Swiss-French cross-over bistro. My dad made fun of me because I ordered 4-cheese pasta-essentially macaroni and cheese. But it was French Swiss authentic Macaroni and cheese with completely fresh ingredients. He felt foolish. The restaurant owner was homosexual Swiss man with a bleach blond faux-hawk and a very, very large bull dog who demanded food from us and burped repeatedly. We were instantly in love. For dinner we found a restaurant off the beaten path (this was a constant goal of mine) and I had French Onion soup, Escargot and roast duck. It was food like i had never tasted before. For desert my dad had chocolate mousse and my mom and I had creme brulee. I got to crack the caramel crust like Amelie. I will not describe the taste. Our waiter was my favorite for the whole trip. he was very French in that he was disgusted with absolutely everyone he served. I wanted to ask him for more stuff just to see him scoff some more. He was perfect.
Photos:
Notre Dame at night. Not featured: Rude Parisian waiters.
Look how happy my parents are that they're not in a French Prison!
Day 3: We went to two museums. First was a museum of medieval art built around an ancient Roman bath. It featured the famous Unicorn Tapestries which we naturally were not allowed to take pictures of because photons damage the colors and all. In the afternoon we went to a museum focusing on Impressionist art, and it had several Van Goghs and Renoirs. It's a really cool modern gallery built around an old and beautifully restored subway station, so it had a wide-open, calming feel with a Victorian, sort of steam-punk appearance. No photos.
It was Bestille Day (think that's how it's spelled?) It celebrates the beginning the of the French Revolution, and that night we watched fireworks after dinners. The French however, were French about it, which is to say existential and apathetic towards everything, so after a few half-hearted cheers they scattered to get drunk off absinthe and smoke cigarettes somewhere. On our way back we encountered our first would-be pickpocket. My dad was keeping money in his back pocket so when I realized we were being tracked, I walked right behind him so that if the guy bumped into him, he would be able to reach anything. But he saw that I had figured him out and scurried off to find a drunker tourist. No photos.
Restaurant/Waiter: Before the fireworks we ate a really really good meal and I had lamb and it was delicate and bursting with flavor and I was happy. My mom also had hot chocolate during the afternoon (it was cold and rainy) and it was not like American hot chocolate. It was like rich dark chocolate with just a little milk and something else to thin it and it was unbelievable good. The waiter said (with disgust), "If it's too strong, i'll get you some milk." It was not too strong. But our waiters at night were...not Parisian by birth and also not very competent at all. still the food was good.
Day 4: The Louvre and Montmart. So the Louvre was originally the Palace of the King before they built Versaille and that alone makes it an amazing feature. Also apparently there's some art in it. Enought to make it the most famous art museum in the world. Which is cool, except for the fact that WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE TAKING A PICTURE YOU'RE NOT EVEN LOOKING AT THE SCULPTURE. Seriously that is what I remember the most of the Louvre. I watched so many people just cycle through the Greek sculpture section taking photo after photo without ever looking at what they were seeing. They even pushed people, myself included, out of the way to get a better shot. But the sculptures themselves were very beautiful. We also went through the Ancient Egyptian section which was really fascinating, but there was still lots of shoving and also some really asinine comments. My favorite, "Mmm, Ah cud sure use THA-YET necklace." This however was not as annoying as the hordes of Nikon-armed Japanese tourists taking photos of the Venus De Milo, the Winged Victory, and the Mona Lisa, the last of which we were not able to push past the crowd to see.
Then we went to Montmart and climbed the massive stairs (whoo-hoo!) and wandered just a little before we gave up and had a beer with a really friendly (WHAT!) waiter. It might be expensive to live there now, but it'sstill covered with Bohemians and artists show-casing their work, and we stopped at a very small Salvadore Dali Museum and it was like the exact opposite of the Louvre, and I loved it and I should have bought something there.
Restaurant/Waiter: Eventually we staggered back to the area near our hotel and ate a family-owned (literally, mom's in the kitchen cooking with a hired hand while son waits tables) restaurant that I think might have been a Bordello in the Middle Ages. I guess that's not something you advertise, so I couldn't be sure. This is where I had goat cheese salad which was a delicious salad with baked goat cheese bree on top and every bite had goat cheese and it was like cocaine and I loved it. Also I started bitching about how all the English-speakers in Paris were a pack of filthy morons and how I wished they would all just shut the fuck up and stop complaining and stop taking pictures of every damn thing, and then i found out the people next to me were Australian and heard every word of my rant. But they also heard me talking about how delicious the salad was and they got it too and they agreed (to themselves) that it was delicious.
Pictures:
The Louvre! (One wing anyway, it stretches around the plaza)
Days 5&6: We fly to Venice. Connection in Barcelona. I was, by the way, still sick, and the plane was really cramped and really hot and there was turbulance THE ENTIRE FLIGHT and I threw up when we landed in Barcelona. This was a particularly painful experience because Spanish men are the most ridiculously good-looking men in the world. like, they take that shit seriously.
I got on the second plane and we made it to Venice without further, uh, incident. We walked around and ate dinner and I couldn't eat much and it was HOT and I was like, "I am going to throw up right now." But I didn't.
I slept until like 1 the next day and then we ate Frutti di Mari at a very fancy restaurant with futti di Mari pizza to follow. Frutti di Mari is basically seafood, and in Venice they take presentation very seriously. We sadly did not take any pictures of the first course, which was included large 3-inch prawns and shrimp with the heads and claws still attached, but I did get some of the pizza that followed. I also fell in love with ventian masks, and so my mom bought me two, a cheap one to wear while LARPing and nice one to hang on my wall. The shops were amazing. Across Italy people sold cheap masks, but there are certain shops the deal in family-owned, hand-painted masks and they cover the walls of the stores. Got a photo of it with my mom.That night there was the Venetian holiday in which all the citizens of Venice tie their boats together and eat a huge meal together and then watch a fantastic fireworks display and then go to Ledo, the island with the beach, to swim naked until dawn. It's a religious holiday. The party atmosphere was certainly exuberant on shore as well and we got to see sights and listen music and watch the fireworks while we had more sea food for dinner.
Venice is a beautiful city, but sad. Beneath your feet, by fractions of an inch, you can feel it sinking. All the towers are leaning over, threatening to fall. But worse, the Venetians have been pushed into corners. They are artists, gondola operators, and servers. They are police officers and bartenders and hotel managers, but they all serve the tourists that fill the streets and plazas. No one simply lives there anymore.
Pictures:
I am very Sick. My mother is amused.
This is a pizza with octopus, muscles, and a large fully shelled prawn.
Octopus Tentacles. I am feeling better this morning.
Every Tower in Venice is Leaning.
By the way this is My Boat. I hope you like it.
The Mask Shop.
Days 7-10: We went to Florence by train. I was ill in the morning and sick of tourists at night, but we had a really good dinner. We stayed in a palace that has been passed down through generations by the same family, who still own it now. The rooms and service were immaculate and I had a beautiful view across the rooftops of Florence all the way to the green hills rising outside the city, speckled with sun-bleached farm houses.
My time in Florence was my favorite. Florentines were inviting and patient. Our waiters were happy to pause and chat, especially if they had a firm grasp of English but sometimes even if they did not. Museum curators were pleased to show their art, and the many chapels, monastaries, and cathedrals that house some of the famous and most beautiful art in the western world were glad to bring us in, though often for a price.
It's hard now for me to sort out my days in Florence. Every morning my parents woke up at 7:30 and ate breakfast and went to see a church or chapel. Then I got up at 10 and we to some museum or another holy place, and then we ate lunch and then wnet to another. We cam back to our hotel every day at around 4 or 5 and rested until dinner. Then we would struggle to get lost and escape the touristy areas in order to find a delicious restaurant. We were generally successful.
We went to the Academia, which was in some ways the highlight of the trip for me. It features Michelangelo's David and several of his unfinished works. They only let a certain number of tourists in at a time, so we had to wait in line longer, but I was able to completely circle the David and take it at every angle. We also went tto the Medici Chapel, which features some of his other work. In true Medici-style they charge you a lot to get in because unlike the other chapels which are to this day still chapels, No one would dare argue that Medici Chapel is now or evr was a holy place. looks cool as shit, though. We also went to the Uffizzi art gallery, which features some of the greatest Renaissance Frescoes ever painted. It was Michelangelo's Madonna and Child which I liked more than anything else (Sorry! He's just Awesome!) It also has Da Vinci's Annunciation and Botticelli's Birth of Venus (Venus in the Half-Shell). There was also a big Caravaggio exhibit and I got to learn a lot about him and I decided he's pretty goddamn cool.
All readers/viewers of "Hannibal" will also appreciate that we went to "The Prison" an museum focusing on Renaissance sculpture that sits in the former Prison. Pretty sure it's where the policeman gets hanged. Also the art there is wonderful; it includes Botticelli's David and some unfinished Michelangelo pieces including one he was in process of sculpting when a Medici got jealous, accused his commissioner of treason and murdered and then took the sculpture and asked Michelangelo to please finish it. To which Michelangelo replied, "...No." Medici put it in his bedroom.
We left Florence with heavy hearts and many sights unseen, but we promised all to return, and more than any other place we visited, I sincerely hope this to be true.
Pictures:
My Palace Bedroom
Days 11: Rome proves to be fast-paced and energetic change to the calm and artistic Florence. We part from the breezy skirts, lackadaisical cafes, and wandering feet to the tight buttocks and navel-exposing fashions, waiters shouting and begging for customers, and of course we return to the pushing and shoving of tourists with Important Business (I MUST HAVE A PHOTO RIGHT NOW OF THE SPANISH STEPS OR SOMEONE HERE WILL DIE). Right.
Well, on Day 11 we awoke early, and I put on my blue dress because it was nice dressy thing but still very comfy in the hot, hot sun and brought along a black veil to wear over my shoulders. This was the day I was going to see the Vatican for the first time, the seat of the Pontifix, the house of Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel and his awe-inspiring Pieta, The Mecca of Catholicism. I was prepared for crowds, for the comericalism of rosary and papal-blessing salesmen, for the gaudy, tasteless gold chalices and incense holders etc., etc. the Vatican museum was at times claustrophobically crowded, such as when we saw the statue of Laocoone and His Sons, but also featured some beautiful art work, like, well, Laocoone and His Sons, actually. Hilariously, past popes have aggressively collected ancient Roman artwork, but also insisted on chopping of the penises and covering them with fig leaves. So we have them to thank for their preservation and also their disturbance... Thanks, popes? They used to limit the number of people allowed into the Sistine chapel at any time, so that after a long wait, you could walk in and appreciate the true immensity of the room and the overwhelming quality of the brilliant paintings bearing down upon you, their fervant movement, powerful color schemes, and contagious emotions. Now, however, the crush of people has apparently made the curators decide to allow everyone in at once. What results, of course, is a mash pit of tourists who apparently believe the guards constantly shouting "NO PHOTOS PLEASE" across the hall are not referring to them. I was almost knocked to the ground while I was trying to look at the ceiling. But I'm certainly glad i was able to see it in person. The impression was still there, and it was more beautiful than I had expected. Then we went on to St. Peter's Basillica, the church where the Pope says mass and where the Pieta is held. My parents and I agreed that this is a problem. As the Seat of the Pope and, again, the foremost Catholic Church in the world, certain decorum is expected of guest to St. Peters. No shorts, not tank tops. Shoulders must be covered (hence my decision on the veil). I thought it would extend to Be Respectful of tombs, altars, people having confession, and those attending mass. It did not. The vast majority of inhabitants came in with fake scarves tied to their waists an shoulders and took pictures of whatever the fuck they felt like and probably just wanted to see the Pieta WHICH BY THE WAY IS BEHIND 4 FT OF BULLET-PROOF GLASS and just decided, Hey I'll walk all over someone's religion while I'm at it. IT'S NOT HARD TO SHOW A LITTLE RESPECT THIS ISN'T A GODDAMN AMUSEMENT PARK. Well.
After that my mother made me climb the steps of the Dome with her, and given that's (one of?) the biggest dome in the world, that was actually a really cool experience and I really enjoyed it. WE got to see lots of the city, including the far-away Colosseum, walk along the roof of the Cathedral (which is so big there's a cafe and a souvenir shop there) and see the dome (designed by Michelangelo) up close and personal.
Pictures:
Ok so the little Collanade on TOP of the dome? That's where we stood. And those thin little columns are as wide as two or three people. That thing is HUGE.
This however, is a very small place PACKED with people.
Day 12: Ancient Rome! Saw the Colosseum and walked along the ruins of Palatine Hill. It was in some ways the HOTTEST day of the trip because it was completely out in the sun. I foolishly wore a T-shirt and deeply, deeply regretted not going for something sleeveless. The ruins themselves were awe-inspiring but painful to see. In many ways, the civilization of Rome wasn't lost as much as it evolved, but the structures which once supported and beatified it, which made it so impressive have been ruined by time and by the vandalism and ignorance of the Dark Ages. Look for the holes in the red brick structures. They were once used to attach marble, which was stripped in later times to make shit like churches. Guess why the Pantheon has survived. They made it into a church.Stupid Dark Ages, with your Religion and hatred for stuff that wasn't Religion. We took a rediculous amount of photos because this was all stuff you just had to see and look at, but I'm only going to put a few.
Pictures:
Palatine Hill. Once, this was an opulant, marble-bedecked palace.
Look at the people. This is a very large building.
Mom wants to know where we are. I want dinner.
Day 13: Our last day Europe and also one of my favorites. We were totally exhausted but we felt obligated to Go Out and Do Stuff, so we climbed the Spanish Steps (Cheers to my mother, this was her 3rd trying set of steps for the journey!) And went through a park and saw an adorable little horse pulling a cart. Then we went into a large square (well, circle really) and watched a guy load his two massive bull dogs into a fountain where people were dipping their feet. Daww! Then we ate lunch and Wandered and then we went to a Crypt where sadly, but understandably we were not allowed to take photos. The crypt was decorated with the bones of 4,000 monks. Bones decorated walls and were even arranged into images, they formed altars and chandeliers. Mummified remains stood upright in monks cowls. Empty skulls stared back at me unexpectedly. There was room after room of this. And finally in several different languages, including English, the last room held a message: "What you are now, I once was. What I am now, you will be." It was, uh, well um. Yeah.
Pictures:
Look at this cute little pony-horse!
And then we came home. There was much Waiting in Line involved in flying, including Waiting in Line, in the plane, on the Tarmac FOR TWO HOURS on a flight that's already going to take ELEVEN HOURS so that's OMYGOD WAY TOO MANY HOURS SITTING IN AN ENCLOSED SPACE. But I lived AND I did not puke at all. YES!
we arrive home at 8:00pm America time, 4 am Europe time, and we were very, very tired. Now, I guess it's time to get back into the groove. right now that's mostly finding a place to live.
I spent the evening before we left on an Emu-Hunt. It is pretty much just as it sounds. For those who do not know, Emus are prehistoric-looking birds that ar much bigger and faster than human beings and sounds like Raptors. They are also very intelligent and glare at you with large, claculating eyes. My aunt has three Emus, and one escaped, so we hand to track it down several miles from her house. Luckily we were able to herd it back into her trailer without any significant casualties. (No photos are available, unfortunately.)
Day 1. Plane Ride. Uneventful. I had a sinus infection and was not feeling well. When we landed my congestion and the air pressure caused some serious damage to my ears, and I had a lot of trouble hearing for the first half of the trip.
Restaurants/Waiters: Flight Attendants: uninteresting.
Photos:
We are getting drunk in Charlotte. We are excited.
Day 2: We land in Paris and arrive at our hotel at 10:30 am Paris time, 4:30 am US time. I take a shower and sleep for an hour. Then we investigate The Paris. Our hotel is on a narrow twisting street that cups us in silence although we are right on the busy street of the Left Bank. We look at Notre Dame and then go to see St. Denis, a chapel of the French King which has beautiful stained glass windows. Sadly, it was full of tourists, which sort of ruined that awe and holiness part and just left the "Man those French kings to throw money around" aftertaste. Then we went to the Concierge. It was not someone who helps you at a hotel. It was a museum dedicated to victims of the guillotine in the French Revolution, including Marie Antoinette. It was well done and very eerie and respectful towards the dead.
Restaurant/Waiters: we ate lunch at a Swiss-French cross-over bistro. My dad made fun of me because I ordered 4-cheese pasta-essentially macaroni and cheese. But it was French Swiss authentic Macaroni and cheese with completely fresh ingredients. He felt foolish. The restaurant owner was homosexual Swiss man with a bleach blond faux-hawk and a very, very large bull dog who demanded food from us and burped repeatedly. We were instantly in love. For dinner we found a restaurant off the beaten path (this was a constant goal of mine) and I had French Onion soup, Escargot and roast duck. It was food like i had never tasted before. For desert my dad had chocolate mousse and my mom and I had creme brulee. I got to crack the caramel crust like Amelie. I will not describe the taste. Our waiter was my favorite for the whole trip. he was very French in that he was disgusted with absolutely everyone he served. I wanted to ask him for more stuff just to see him scoff some more. He was perfect.
Photos:
Notre Dame at night. Not featured: Rude Parisian waiters.
Look how happy my parents are that they're not in a French Prison!
Day 3: We went to two museums. First was a museum of medieval art built around an ancient Roman bath. It featured the famous Unicorn Tapestries which we naturally were not allowed to take pictures of because photons damage the colors and all. In the afternoon we went to a museum focusing on Impressionist art, and it had several Van Goghs and Renoirs. It's a really cool modern gallery built around an old and beautifully restored subway station, so it had a wide-open, calming feel with a Victorian, sort of steam-punk appearance. No photos.
It was Bestille Day (think that's how it's spelled?) It celebrates the beginning the of the French Revolution, and that night we watched fireworks after dinners. The French however, were French about it, which is to say existential and apathetic towards everything, so after a few half-hearted cheers they scattered to get drunk off absinthe and smoke cigarettes somewhere. On our way back we encountered our first would-be pickpocket. My dad was keeping money in his back pocket so when I realized we were being tracked, I walked right behind him so that if the guy bumped into him, he would be able to reach anything. But he saw that I had figured him out and scurried off to find a drunker tourist. No photos.
Restaurant/Waiter: Before the fireworks we ate a really really good meal and I had lamb and it was delicate and bursting with flavor and I was happy. My mom also had hot chocolate during the afternoon (it was cold and rainy) and it was not like American hot chocolate. It was like rich dark chocolate with just a little milk and something else to thin it and it was unbelievable good. The waiter said (with disgust), "If it's too strong, i'll get you some milk." It was not too strong. But our waiters at night were...not Parisian by birth and also not very competent at all. still the food was good.
Day 4: The Louvre and Montmart. So the Louvre was originally the Palace of the King before they built Versaille and that alone makes it an amazing feature. Also apparently there's some art in it. Enought to make it the most famous art museum in the world. Which is cool, except for the fact that WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE TAKING A PICTURE YOU'RE NOT EVEN LOOKING AT THE SCULPTURE. Seriously that is what I remember the most of the Louvre. I watched so many people just cycle through the Greek sculpture section taking photo after photo without ever looking at what they were seeing. They even pushed people, myself included, out of the way to get a better shot. But the sculptures themselves were very beautiful. We also went through the Ancient Egyptian section which was really fascinating, but there was still lots of shoving and also some really asinine comments. My favorite, "Mmm, Ah cud sure use THA-YET necklace." This however was not as annoying as the hordes of Nikon-armed Japanese tourists taking photos of the Venus De Milo, the Winged Victory, and the Mona Lisa, the last of which we were not able to push past the crowd to see.
Then we went to Montmart and climbed the massive stairs (whoo-hoo!) and wandered just a little before we gave up and had a beer with a really friendly (WHAT!) waiter. It might be expensive to live there now, but it'sstill covered with Bohemians and artists show-casing their work, and we stopped at a very small Salvadore Dali Museum and it was like the exact opposite of the Louvre, and I loved it and I should have bought something there.
Restaurant/Waiter: Eventually we staggered back to the area near our hotel and ate a family-owned (literally, mom's in the kitchen cooking with a hired hand while son waits tables) restaurant that I think might have been a Bordello in the Middle Ages. I guess that's not something you advertise, so I couldn't be sure. This is where I had goat cheese salad which was a delicious salad with baked goat cheese bree on top and every bite had goat cheese and it was like cocaine and I loved it. Also I started bitching about how all the English-speakers in Paris were a pack of filthy morons and how I wished they would all just shut the fuck up and stop complaining and stop taking pictures of every damn thing, and then i found out the people next to me were Australian and heard every word of my rant. But they also heard me talking about how delicious the salad was and they got it too and they agreed (to themselves) that it was delicious.
Pictures:
The Louvre! (One wing anyway, it stretches around the plaza)
Days 5&6: We fly to Venice. Connection in Barcelona. I was, by the way, still sick, and the plane was really cramped and really hot and there was turbulance THE ENTIRE FLIGHT and I threw up when we landed in Barcelona. This was a particularly painful experience because Spanish men are the most ridiculously good-looking men in the world. like, they take that shit seriously.
I got on the second plane and we made it to Venice without further, uh, incident. We walked around and ate dinner and I couldn't eat much and it was HOT and I was like, "I am going to throw up right now." But I didn't.
I slept until like 1 the next day and then we ate Frutti di Mari at a very fancy restaurant with futti di Mari pizza to follow. Frutti di Mari is basically seafood, and in Venice they take presentation very seriously. We sadly did not take any pictures of the first course, which was included large 3-inch prawns and shrimp with the heads and claws still attached, but I did get some of the pizza that followed. I also fell in love with ventian masks, and so my mom bought me two, a cheap one to wear while LARPing and nice one to hang on my wall. The shops were amazing. Across Italy people sold cheap masks, but there are certain shops the deal in family-owned, hand-painted masks and they cover the walls of the stores. Got a photo of it with my mom.That night there was the Venetian holiday in which all the citizens of Venice tie their boats together and eat a huge meal together and then watch a fantastic fireworks display and then go to Ledo, the island with the beach, to swim naked until dawn. It's a religious holiday. The party atmosphere was certainly exuberant on shore as well and we got to see sights and listen music and watch the fireworks while we had more sea food for dinner.
Venice is a beautiful city, but sad. Beneath your feet, by fractions of an inch, you can feel it sinking. All the towers are leaning over, threatening to fall. But worse, the Venetians have been pushed into corners. They are artists, gondola operators, and servers. They are police officers and bartenders and hotel managers, but they all serve the tourists that fill the streets and plazas. No one simply lives there anymore.
Pictures:
I am very Sick. My mother is amused.
This is a pizza with octopus, muscles, and a large fully shelled prawn.
Octopus Tentacles. I am feeling better this morning.
Every Tower in Venice is Leaning.
By the way this is My Boat. I hope you like it.
The Mask Shop.
Days 7-10: We went to Florence by train. I was ill in the morning and sick of tourists at night, but we had a really good dinner. We stayed in a palace that has been passed down through generations by the same family, who still own it now. The rooms and service were immaculate and I had a beautiful view across the rooftops of Florence all the way to the green hills rising outside the city, speckled with sun-bleached farm houses.
My time in Florence was my favorite. Florentines were inviting and patient. Our waiters were happy to pause and chat, especially if they had a firm grasp of English but sometimes even if they did not. Museum curators were pleased to show their art, and the many chapels, monastaries, and cathedrals that house some of the famous and most beautiful art in the western world were glad to bring us in, though often for a price.
It's hard now for me to sort out my days in Florence. Every morning my parents woke up at 7:30 and ate breakfast and went to see a church or chapel. Then I got up at 10 and we to some museum or another holy place, and then we ate lunch and then wnet to another. We cam back to our hotel every day at around 4 or 5 and rested until dinner. Then we would struggle to get lost and escape the touristy areas in order to find a delicious restaurant. We were generally successful.
We went to the Academia, which was in some ways the highlight of the trip for me. It features Michelangelo's David and several of his unfinished works. They only let a certain number of tourists in at a time, so we had to wait in line longer, but I was able to completely circle the David and take it at every angle. We also went tto the Medici Chapel, which features some of his other work. In true Medici-style they charge you a lot to get in because unlike the other chapels which are to this day still chapels, No one would dare argue that Medici Chapel is now or evr was a holy place. looks cool as shit, though. We also went to the Uffizzi art gallery, which features some of the greatest Renaissance Frescoes ever painted. It was Michelangelo's Madonna and Child which I liked more than anything else (Sorry! He's just Awesome!) It also has Da Vinci's Annunciation and Botticelli's Birth of Venus (Venus in the Half-Shell). There was also a big Caravaggio exhibit and I got to learn a lot about him and I decided he's pretty goddamn cool.
All readers/viewers of "Hannibal" will also appreciate that we went to "The Prison" an museum focusing on Renaissance sculpture that sits in the former Prison. Pretty sure it's where the policeman gets hanged. Also the art there is wonderful; it includes Botticelli's David and some unfinished Michelangelo pieces including one he was in process of sculpting when a Medici got jealous, accused his commissioner of treason and murdered and then took the sculpture and asked Michelangelo to please finish it. To which Michelangelo replied, "...No." Medici put it in his bedroom.
We left Florence with heavy hearts and many sights unseen, but we promised all to return, and more than any other place we visited, I sincerely hope this to be true.
Pictures:
My Palace Bedroom
Days 11: Rome proves to be fast-paced and energetic change to the calm and artistic Florence. We part from the breezy skirts, lackadaisical cafes, and wandering feet to the tight buttocks and navel-exposing fashions, waiters shouting and begging for customers, and of course we return to the pushing and shoving of tourists with Important Business (I MUST HAVE A PHOTO RIGHT NOW OF THE SPANISH STEPS OR SOMEONE HERE WILL DIE). Right.
Well, on Day 11 we awoke early, and I put on my blue dress because it was nice dressy thing but still very comfy in the hot, hot sun and brought along a black veil to wear over my shoulders. This was the day I was going to see the Vatican for the first time, the seat of the Pontifix, the house of Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel and his awe-inspiring Pieta, The Mecca of Catholicism. I was prepared for crowds, for the comericalism of rosary and papal-blessing salesmen, for the gaudy, tasteless gold chalices and incense holders etc., etc. the Vatican museum was at times claustrophobically crowded, such as when we saw the statue of Laocoone and His Sons, but also featured some beautiful art work, like, well, Laocoone and His Sons, actually. Hilariously, past popes have aggressively collected ancient Roman artwork, but also insisted on chopping of the penises and covering them with fig leaves. So we have them to thank for their preservation and also their disturbance... Thanks, popes? They used to limit the number of people allowed into the Sistine chapel at any time, so that after a long wait, you could walk in and appreciate the true immensity of the room and the overwhelming quality of the brilliant paintings bearing down upon you, their fervant movement, powerful color schemes, and contagious emotions. Now, however, the crush of people has apparently made the curators decide to allow everyone in at once. What results, of course, is a mash pit of tourists who apparently believe the guards constantly shouting "NO PHOTOS PLEASE" across the hall are not referring to them. I was almost knocked to the ground while I was trying to look at the ceiling. But I'm certainly glad i was able to see it in person. The impression was still there, and it was more beautiful than I had expected. Then we went on to St. Peter's Basillica, the church where the Pope says mass and where the Pieta is held. My parents and I agreed that this is a problem. As the Seat of the Pope and, again, the foremost Catholic Church in the world, certain decorum is expected of guest to St. Peters. No shorts, not tank tops. Shoulders must be covered (hence my decision on the veil). I thought it would extend to Be Respectful of tombs, altars, people having confession, and those attending mass. It did not. The vast majority of inhabitants came in with fake scarves tied to their waists an shoulders and took pictures of whatever the fuck they felt like and probably just wanted to see the Pieta WHICH BY THE WAY IS BEHIND 4 FT OF BULLET-PROOF GLASS and just decided, Hey I'll walk all over someone's religion while I'm at it. IT'S NOT HARD TO SHOW A LITTLE RESPECT THIS ISN'T A GODDAMN AMUSEMENT PARK. Well.
After that my mother made me climb the steps of the Dome with her, and given that's (one of?) the biggest dome in the world, that was actually a really cool experience and I really enjoyed it. WE got to see lots of the city, including the far-away Colosseum, walk along the roof of the Cathedral (which is so big there's a cafe and a souvenir shop there) and see the dome (designed by Michelangelo) up close and personal.
Pictures:
Ok so the little Collanade on TOP of the dome? That's where we stood. And those thin little columns are as wide as two or three people. That thing is HUGE.
This however, is a very small place PACKED with people.
Day 12: Ancient Rome! Saw the Colosseum and walked along the ruins of Palatine Hill. It was in some ways the HOTTEST day of the trip because it was completely out in the sun. I foolishly wore a T-shirt and deeply, deeply regretted not going for something sleeveless. The ruins themselves were awe-inspiring but painful to see. In many ways, the civilization of Rome wasn't lost as much as it evolved, but the structures which once supported and beatified it, which made it so impressive have been ruined by time and by the vandalism and ignorance of the Dark Ages. Look for the holes in the red brick structures. They were once used to attach marble, which was stripped in later times to make shit like churches. Guess why the Pantheon has survived. They made it into a church.Stupid Dark Ages, with your Religion and hatred for stuff that wasn't Religion. We took a rediculous amount of photos because this was all stuff you just had to see and look at, but I'm only going to put a few.
Pictures:
Palatine Hill. Once, this was an opulant, marble-bedecked palace.
Look at the people. This is a very large building.
Mom wants to know where we are. I want dinner.
Day 13: Our last day Europe and also one of my favorites. We were totally exhausted but we felt obligated to Go Out and Do Stuff, so we climbed the Spanish Steps (Cheers to my mother, this was her 3rd trying set of steps for the journey!) And went through a park and saw an adorable little horse pulling a cart. Then we went into a large square (well, circle really) and watched a guy load his two massive bull dogs into a fountain where people were dipping their feet. Daww! Then we ate lunch and Wandered and then we went to a Crypt where sadly, but understandably we were not allowed to take photos. The crypt was decorated with the bones of 4,000 monks. Bones decorated walls and were even arranged into images, they formed altars and chandeliers. Mummified remains stood upright in monks cowls. Empty skulls stared back at me unexpectedly. There was room after room of this. And finally in several different languages, including English, the last room held a message: "What you are now, I once was. What I am now, you will be." It was, uh, well um. Yeah.
Pictures:
Look at this cute little pony-horse!
And then we came home. There was much Waiting in Line involved in flying, including Waiting in Line, in the plane, on the Tarmac FOR TWO HOURS on a flight that's already going to take ELEVEN HOURS so that's OMYGOD WAY TOO MANY HOURS SITTING IN AN ENCLOSED SPACE. But I lived AND I did not puke at all. YES!
we arrive home at 8:00pm America time, 4 am Europe time, and we were very, very tired. Now, I guess it's time to get back into the groove. right now that's mostly finding a place to live.