Italia: Venice and Rome

Italy has been, by far, my favorite country to visit. Kathleen and I were the only two to go, and we gladly missed our last 2 days of school for it. In addition to how amazing our trip was, we only paid about 125 Euros for 5 one way flights! So I guess that’s where the adventure began…Cheap airfare with Ryanair. We left early in the morning (ie 5 am) on the airport bus to catch our morning flight and had a layover for about 6 hours in Barcelona. Then we caught our first flight intooooooo VENICE! Venice is absolutely stunning. There isn’t a whole lot to do but eat amazing food, drink wonderfully cheap wine, and admire breathtaking scenery every time you turn a corner, so I guess I can see why Venice is a city for lovers. However, as wonderful as it may be for all of the couples, I can not think of anyone better to visit Venice with than Kathleen. As usual, we tore Italy apart. We arrive night one, Thursday night, and checked into our hostel. The hostel experience in itself requires a full novel to do its hilarity justice, but I’ll give the abbreviated version. We check in, and there is a guy with shaggy hair, glasses and a purple puffy jacket on. He asks me to pay the remaining balance for the room, which I did, and for my change he whipped out his own personal wallet. Okay so not that funny, but people would never do that in the states while running a business! Then he tells me he doesn’t have change, and asks whether I’d like him to owe me or me to owe him. Obviously I chose the latter, but it was at this moment when I realized this guy wasn’t Italian and was probably the biggest stoner I’d ever meet in my life. His name? Gustavo, from Costa Rica. He ended up in Italy because he attended Italian culinary school for 2 years when he decided restaurants were too stressful. He’s just about the most laid back, hilarious character I’ve ever met. After checking into our room, which had purple walls, pink lace curtains and 2 playboy bunny posters, Kathleen and I headed out for dinner. We asked Gustavo for his recommendations, which we didn’t take, and thanked him for offering to cook for us. There is a sign in the hostel that says dinner upon request for 10 Euro. We figured we could do better than that. We crossed a few canals, said about a million “oh my god’s” and commented on the beauty of Venice by the time we arrived at our dinner destination. Chosen for its moderate prices and warm dinning area. Kathleen and I sat down and ordered brochette, which became tradition for every meal we ate our entire trip, lasagna and chicken to split. We chose not to order water when we found out you couldn’t have tap and opted for a bottle of wine when an English lady behind us offered us her bottle of water because she was eating alone and couldn’t finish it. We gladly accepted and finished out our meal with the waiter hating us for splitting even though 5 minutes earlier he couldn’t say princess enough. The pasta melted in your mouth. It literally didn’t require chewing, and the brochette was a variety of 3, one having mushrooms and artichoke! The meal was a bit pricy, but well worth it. After that we tucked ourselves in to our playmates room. (haha). The next morning we woke up and decided to roam the city with the 2 other girls who were staying in our room who were backpacking all through Europe for as long as their money lasted and they were only 18!!! Anyhow, we literally walked all over the city and saw more than most tourists probably catch in 2 visits. However, it was freezing, and raining with puddles everywhere because just 3 days before, Venice witnessed it’s worst flood in 20 years. Before heading in to the hostel, the other 2 girls in my room and I caught an over priced gondola ride (Kathleen didn’t join because it cost too much) that was completely worth it. We went past the house of Marco Polo, then the house of his family, under the main bridge in Venice, past an old fish market from the 1500’s and a political building that had a jail cel on the first floor. I found this to be hilarious because Venetians don’t use their first floors in case of flooding, it’s simply an entry way. We had a great photo shoot and our gondolier loved us. After that we decided to cook dinner at our hostel with our other 2 room mates. The four of us ate for less than 10 Euros with a 2 liter bottle of “vino fizzante,” or fizz wine. Somehow I ended up doing the cooking and surprised myself. I always crave veggies here in Europe, so I bought a yellow pepper, tomato and zucchini and grilled them and then added them to the tortellini. I think I now have a passion for cooking because I can’t wait to get home and experiment. First thing I’m going to make is fresh brochette. As we were eating, Gustavo looked like he’d been slapped. He asked us why we didn’t have him cook, and we explained we didn’t want to spend that much, to which he responded, that sign (that says 10 euros for dinner) is just what I’m supposed to do. With that he offered Kathleen and I some of the best brochette I’ve ever had and some pasta carbonara. Slightly buzzed, but more exhausted from touring, we all went to bed. However, it was so cold, I had to ask Gustavo to turn on the heater to which he agreed with, “Iyy knowwwww. Itz like Dicember, itz like one degree” (sound it out to catch on to his accent). Haha. Then he brought us a floor heater and we all slept like babies. We woke pretty early the next and Kathleen and I hopped onto a waterbus out to the island of Murano, which is famous for it’s glass blowing. If you’ve ever bought a piece of Venetian-blown glass, it’s from Murano. We watched part of a glass blowing show from an outside window, so we wouldn’t have to pay, shopped and explored the island, then headed back to the main part of Venice to catch our bus to the airport for our next flight to Rome. We got back to the main island and had nothing to do so we bought a snack and headed back to the hostel, that we were already checked out of but were allowed to leave our luggage in, just to eat Nutella and crackers for free and hang out. Again, nowhere in the states would you be able to do this. We just opened the cupboards and snacked away and chatted with Gustavo! Time to leave: we caught our bus to the airport where we met a group of about 5 American boys studying in Sweden and chatted with them the entire bus ride. None of them were passing their classes, and collectively, they only knew one word of Swedish! I love America! They razzed me like the guys back home, they didn’t hit on me and act all greasy like the Europeans. One of them was super cute! We ended up hanging out with them later that night in Rome, but a LOT happens between then. So we get to Rome and have to go to a different hostel than the one I booked, because of “renovations,” but they emailed me ahead of time so it wasn’t a big deal. As we’re checking in, the guy, who happened to also be from south America, offered us a beer, which we politely declined, when he said, “No, you’re going to need it. Take a beer.” To that we obeyed, waited 10 minutes for him to tell us that they’d overbooked and we didn’t have a room. He told us he’d find us a place to stay and not to worry, but he looked like he was going to cry! Kathleen and I started busting up with laughter at our luck. All he could say after that was how happy he was we were in a good mood. She and I went to get some dinner while he sorted out our stay and returned to his beaming face that he’d found someplace. He and his partner walked us all the way to our other hostel and couldn’t have been any nicer. He even invited us to go out with them that night to, “the best place in Rome” but we already had plans with the Americans. We drop off our stuff and meet up with the guys at a huge church, but as we’re waiting the sweetest 2 Italian boys stopped and asked Kathleen and I to go to a club with them. The one who did most of the talking got frustrated when he couldn’t think of a word in English and was just a doll. We declined that also, and waited for the guys. They showed up and we did what ever good American does and went to a pub for a casual drink. Throughout all of Europe there are always guys walking around through bars and restaurants selling roses or trinkets, and in Rome, this guy was selling singing stuffed animals. Well 2 of the guys in the group were ripped and found it thoroughly amusing to bargain with these Moroccan/African guys. They ended up with the dumb little figurines, they got 5 for the price of one, then they tried to sell them back to the next guys who came around selling things! We he declined the offer to repurchase them, one of the guys told him he’d buy the singing stuffed animal for 6 Euro if the Moroccan man could get it’s sunglasses off. Yes I know this sounds cruel, but something about it was beyond hilarious! We closed the bar down and 2 of the American guys walked Kathleen and I back to our hostel, no moves, no awkward moments, nothing…Just good ole American boys. So refreshing. We woke up the next morning, changed hostels, and headed out to tour by foot, and on my way out I met a guy who plays baseball for the University of Redlands and knows Brenden! It couldn’t help but grin when he double checked with me that Brenden was my EX boyfriend! Then he asked me where I was from and introduced me to a guy he goes to school with who’s from Bakersfield! It really is a small world! That day Kathleen and I hit the Coliseum, ruins of Augustus Cesar, saw the Pantheon, Trevi fountain and lord knows what else! We then had a great dinner with a bottle of wine and a 10% discount coupon from our hostel that we forgot to use. We called it a semi-early night and woke up early the next morning for…..The POPE! Monday December 8 is a Catholic holiday for the “Immaculate Conception of Mary” and the Pope comes out in his Pope mobile. Because of this, the Vatican was closed but we got to see the Pope. He was literally within 5 feet of me! This all took part at the Spanish steps so we killed 2 birds with one stone, and crossed off another monument. After that we saw the Basilica and the outside wall of Vatican City. That night we went to a restaurant, recommended by Kathleen’s friend who studied in Rome this summer and had a wonderful last meal and took a picture with a sign that said, “we love you Chris,” which he loved! On our way there we stumbled upon some ancient ruins, which is no big deal in Rome, and had to practically run home after dinner because we missed the metro. We crawled into bed only to wake up at 3 am to catch our bus to the airport and wind down to wrap up our time in Spain. All in all, Italy was my favorite country to visit, and during my trip I realized just how amazing the people are you encounter across the world. I could never have written the story of Gustavo the surfer, toker, Costa Rican, Italian chef, or the other hostel guy who almost cried because Kathleen and I didn’t have a room. You learn so much more when traveling than just the history of a city, the culture of a country, or a few phrases in a foreign language. You learn about the diversity and sheer amazing personalities of human beings. My experiences have been priceless, so with that thought in mind, I wrap up my last few days in Granada.

El dia de la acion de gracias (Thanksgiving)

To be completely honest…Thanksgiving Day was welcomed from the pub on Wednesday night by me and other Americans fearing the emotions that may come with the holiday away from home. Therefore, as may be assumed, Thanksgiving morning started off hung over. I got my act together though and made it to class, as I always do – exactly opposite of my room mate who NEVER goes. I’d decided I was going to do EVERYTHING I enjoyed to assure a good holiday, so I bought a coffee before class, ditched my second immediately when I heard the professor wouldn’t be there (normally I stick around to find out for myself, but being that it was “MY” holiday, I jammed!). Yes, this is very typical of me, but I skipped class to go for a long, long run and then hit the tanning bed. If you’re curious, I started tanning because I have NEVER been this pasty white in my life, nor this gross fatty feeling. And since my staple food is bread “pan” (in Spanish) and lentils, with some alcohol thrown in here and there, I can’t seem to get the fat problem under control. I figure if I’m gonna be fat and can help my color, I’d might as well not be fat AND pasty. So I proceed to burn myself an itch for 3 days after. Anyway, I was feeling pretty good after my run and tan sesh, so I headed home to get ready, more like brace myself, for the Thanksgiving dinner to come. I was extremely surprised with the time and effort put into our dinner…until, I tasted my turkey. It was such a tease, we had little miniature wedge salads and tomatoes in some sort of sauce, bread with oil and vinegar (which was in a bottle filled with bugs that looked like gnats) and wine. Sounds good right? I thought so too. Then they served the turkey and mashed potatoes!!! The potatoes were orange, but I didn’t let the color discourage me. I dove right in to find that they were yams, and the turkey was prepared like meat loaf. I don’t even know how else to explain it…It was meat loaf turkey! I didn’t mind – I just remember myself looking around the room and thinking how amazingly lucky I was to be celebrating Thanksgiving with a huge group of Americans – all of whom I admire for studying abroad because I know all of the ups and downs the experience beholds. While I was doing okay from the get go, I was nervously sipping on my wine for the moment I feared I would break down, and I constantly watched my cel phone waiting for a call from home. Finally it came…both of them…The phone call and the inevitable break down! Haha. I saw that phone light up and sprinted for the bathroom because I knew all too well that Franklins pass the phone around and I was going to feel slight devastation. The call started out strong with mom, then Grandma, then Jules. Jules is normally the weeper, and since she left for college for the first time, every time she cries, I cry, and sure enough she did, and so did I! Then the phone went to Ian, to whom I was only able to say, “Hey Tiny, (which is what I call him) guess what I have now? Boobs! I’m so fat, I finally have boobs!” He laughed, we said our I love you’s and then passed the phone off again. It finally made it to my dad. I guess to fully understand the moment, you’d have to understand my relationship with my dad. My dad is literally my Knight in shinning armor, he is the apple of my eye, he’s hung the moon, and can literally fix anything. My dad is very much my hero and I have so much appreciation for the things he does for me, like paying for college tuition and getting me to Spain, so there’s something especially heartbreaking about being away from him on the holidays. He was super chipper, as always, so I tried to parallel his tone even though I was crying, so I chose a light subject, like my dinner. I tried to describe how much effort my program had put into our Thanksgiving dinner and wanted to joke about the mashed potatoes being orange, but I couldn’t quite keep it together, so when I told him about the meal, it came out as more of a wail of pain than a joke. Of course he thought this was pretty funny. He knows nobody’s cooking will ever compare to his and I couldn’t have wished for it more at that moment. I concluded my phone call, wiped my eyes, gathered my friends and we all went to the “Chupiteria” which translates to shot bar – as in shots of alcohol. I know…clearly I wasn’t the only down and out American kid that night. We all had a few shots and herded to the pub where I ran into my friend Jordan who was with her family who was visiting. Well…Miss Jordan was ripped and at one point put her leg up on the bar, almost fell backward, then did it again so we could get a picture! This girl is in no way trashy though. I absolutely adore her – we say we live parallel lives because we have so many things in common. We drive the same exact car, but on opposite coasts of the US and we have plans to move to New York together for law school. That explains the photo with a complete random stranger in an “I love NY” shirt. After we closed the pub down at 3am, we headed next door for a shwarma, which is a type of Middle Eastern food that I will explain in a later blog. Basically, they’re delicious and the only thing available to eat at 3 am. So Jordan leaves the shwarma place literally 5 or 6 times with her brother and his wife but keeps coming back with her tanked sister in law to tell us how much she loved us. I got in really good with the sister in law when I stole a poster for a party the next night from the bar – it was all she could talk to me about! After the schwarm, as we call it for short, I caught a taxi home, completely ignored my computer as I didn’t really want to be taunted by everyone with their families and went to bed. I woke up the next day and felt 1 million times better just knowing it wasn’t an American holiday that I was missing! I pranced my little self into town and bought a chocolate croissant and bought the absolute COOLEST pair of shoes I’ve ever seen as my Thanksgiving treat and wrapped up the one and only holiday I’ll ever be away from home. Although I’ve wrapped up that holiday, I haven’t forgotten how thankful I am to have my family at home. I always try to thank God at the beginning of my prayers at night, but I took a lot of extra time on Thanksgiving to get down to the nitty-gritty, and want to end this blog by listing the majority that I can remember. Here it goes: OBVIOUSLY my family; I’m thankful I’m my mom’s Minnie me, and that we are such good friends, I’m thankful to have a father that is going to be impossible to match when I get married, a little brother who is more like a big brother and has to threaten boys 5 years older than him for me, my sister who has played such an important role in forming the person that I am with an amazing husband who also is also a tough example for my future husband to live up to. I thank God for the Franklin family and the unity and closeness we have for such a huge and diverse group, Grandma Martha’s help and all of the work, actually it’s more like magic, she has performed in order to give all of us the lives we have, America (sounds funny, but you leave the country for 3 months and you’ll agree), American food, health, warm sheets, heaters in the house, UCLA, my friends, my support systems (ie family again), Julie and Ian’s marriage, my doggies and sooooo much more. As much as I missed home, I’m not sure I would have realized just how THANKFUL I am for all things, big and small, had I been home, participating in the usual festivities.