The buses were full, and unfortunately I had one seat for
the long 12 hour ride. This won’t be so bad, I thought. It was probably the
most uncomfortable I’ve ever been in my life. No matter what position I tried,
I just couldn’t stretch out enough to let sleep run its course. I even found
myself in the fetal position, back to the window, scarf tied around my head,
trying to fight off the cold air seeping through the glass. Because of course I
didn’t bring a blanket or pillow. I bet it was quite hilarious looking. And
then, the feeling of a full bladder kicked in. We had already passed our ONLY
rest stop and there was no way I was using the bus bathroom. For some unknown reason I just can’t bring myself to use a bus or plane bathroom. I
guess I figure I’d be the one in there when we hit a huge pot hole, lose
control, and go tumbling down a hill. But I think being splashed by disgusting
toilet contents would be the least of my worries then… Needless to say, I held
it for the whole trip. Whenever I felt I was about to burst, I just went to
sleep. It actually was a successful system, but I DO NOT recommend.
We arrived in Prague around 9am. Much to my delight it
had a nice German feel to the city! I was hoping it’d be like Munich, which I
loved, but I really didn’t know what to expect from a country that was fairly
new in comparison. The Czech Republic peacefully split from Slovakia in the
early ‘90s – before they were known together as Czechoslovakia. The city of
Prague had that same quirky, dollhouse feel as Munich, and much of the food and
atmosphere was quite similar. We czeched in (oh yeah, all sorts of puns were
made!) to our hostel and freshened up before eating a delicious breakfast and
going on a walking tour.
Another thing I didn’t know much about was the currency.
So I ended up spending THOUSANDS! …but in the Czech Crown that’s only like 80
bucks.
After that bus ride, I really had to kick the weariness
to the side and turn on my eager-to-learn switch. Luckily we had a very
entertaining, cute (she was prego!) guide that kept us intrigued while walking
around the beautiful city. I love hearing stories that you wouldn’t find out
about just wandering around on your own. Like one church we stopped at still
had on display a severed arm from a thief who tried to steal something off of
the Virgin Mary. We also passed a graveyard in the old Jewish quarter that had
layer upon layer upon layer of graves built up into a misleadingly small hill.
We explored Old Town, New Town, and the Jewish Quarter before our guide left us
to explore on our own.
My friends and I decided to take advantage of the cheap
exchange rates and better worth of our money with manicures, pedicures,
haircuts, and shopping. Well, Lizzie and I just went on a search for a good
haircut! While tracing our steps back towards the hostel, we popped into
several hair salons. All were either fully booked, didn’t speak English, or
were just too expensive. I felt bad about not being able to communicate
properly and thought maybe that’d pose a problem when describing the cut I
want. Finally we found a reasonably priced nail salon that cut hair as well. We
were super sketched out at first, but decided to go on with it. And the guy
surprisingly did a really good job! Straightest my bangs have ever been!
For dinner that night we tried a Thai food restaurant
where I also had my first of several encounters with delicious Prague
cheesecake. Also that night was my first ever Pub Crawl. I had been hesitant
about going on one because it seemed like the exact kind of thing I didn’t want
my European experience to be like. But I was in Prague, with wonderful friends
– so why not! It turned out to be a good deal as well – VIP entrance, no cover,
and drinks at several top bars and clubs – just for about 15 euro!
The first stop on the Clock Tower Pub Crawl we had free,
open bar for 2 hours! Yeah, you can rightly conclude that no one had to drink
much more for the rest of the night. By the end of our time there, the
bartender was dancing on the bar giving shots straight from the bottle to
anyone who opened their mouth. I tried Absinthe for the first time… it was
interesting. It was great mingling with people - we ended up making several
friends who we hung out with for the rest of the weekend! Walking from bar to
bar, the pub crawl group got progressively louder and more…American. At one
point we were at a pizza shop, putting our coins together trying to figure out
how much a slice cost. The workers were quite humored. We kept coming back. I
think someone’s running total was around nine slices. The last crazy place we
made it to on the crawl was a church-turned-foam party club. Never thought my
first foam party would be in the Lord’s house. Maybe it was meant to be like a
final, cleansing experience? Haha!
The next morning we took in some of the most famous sites
of Prague, starting with the Charles Bridge. The bridge was and still is one of
the most important connections between Prague Castle and Old Town. It has about
30 statues, now replicas, all along the sides, most of which supposedly bring
about luck or something if you touch them. After listening to the street music
and looking at the arts and crafts, we made our way to the John Lennon Wall.
The wall is covered in colorful graffiti – pictures, song lyrics, empowering
and positive messages. It started as just a normal wall where young Czechs expressed
their dissatisfaction with Communism by drawing pictures of John Lennon and
writing Beatles’ song lyrics. Our tour ended here and my friends and I decided
to spend the rest of the day exploring Prague Castle – the largest medieval
castle in the world. It’s not really what you’d normally imagine a castle to
be; it’s more of an enclosed community. Some of the places we visited within
the walls were Old Royal Palace, Basilica of St. George, Golden Lane, and St.
Vitus’ Cathedral.
For dinner we had traditional Czech food at a famous
local beer hall. It wasn’t really too much different than my experiences in the
German beer halls. We walked around town for a bit, before stopping at the
Clock Tower to watch the Astronomical Clock show at 11. We were approached by
the Grimm Reaper who was trying to persuade us to take a ghost tour. It sounded
like fun, but none of us could take any more walking.
We left for Florence Sunday afternoon, and the trip back
wasn’t as awful as the trip there…except for the part when I had to carry my
suitcase from the train station back to my apartment. I bet I looked
ridiculous, but one of my wheels basically wasn’t a wheel anymore so rolling it
back wasn’t happening!
The following week and weekend was my last full time in
Florence. I attended a wine tasting on Thursday after classes, where we tried
some delicious dessert wines. I had heard of Moscato before, but wasn’t too
familiar with the others – L’Ambrusco, Asti, and Vin Santo. As the session went
on, I became more and more intrigued with wine etiquette and ended up taking a
full page of notes. I think the alcohol consumption definitely had something to
do with my extreme focus – haha.
There was one small day trip planned for Saturday, to a
section of the Italian Riviera called Cinque Terre. We took a private bus from
Florence to the train station in La Spezia, and from there took a train to
Riomaggiore – the first of the five villages. It was nice and breezy, and
sunnier than was expected. I was stunned by the beauty of the northern Italian
coast as we walked along the Vial dell’amore. The path hugged the hilly cliffs
from which a beautiful, calm blue ocean extended into infinity. The cliffs
contained colorful, vintage Italian homes that I recognized from googling
pictures of Cinque Terre beforehand. “The Path of Love” was definitely a
suitable name for the walk. It was the sort of magical, romantic setting perfect
for couples. And judging by the amount of love locks everywhere, many couples
had taken that walk.
The path led us to Manarola, the second of the five
villages. For lunch we had a cheesy focaccia bread that was popular in the area
– we were told we had to try it. The path leading out of the village was
closed, so we had to take the train to get to the next town, Corniglia. The
villages were still dealing with damage and debris from a storm that struck
last October, so several of the paths between towns were closed and declared
unsafe.
There wasn’t much to Corniglia, but it was not any less
beautiful. Much of the seaside land seemed to be used by famers, with olive orchards
and vineyards jutting out from the slanting terrain. The road to town was lined
with beautiful cacti and flowers, sort of reminding me of Texas hill country…
until of course I saw an old Vespa tangled in the plants. From Corniglia we
took the train to Vernazza, which was probably the most devastated village
among them all. Most of the buildings were still crumbled and unusable. We did,
however, find a delicious gelato shop that didn’t seem to be hurting for
business. Lizzie and I couldn’t find the entrance to the 2 hour long walking
path that led to the last village, Monterosso, so we decided to take the train
again.
Monterosso had a beautiful beach and, although it was too
cold to get in the water, I did spot several cute families enjoying themselves,
running about the sand and from the approaching tide. With not much time left,
Lizzie and I headed back to Riomaggiore since we didn’t get to see much of it.
We found a cute place for drinks and aperitivo, and thought we left just enough
time to catch the train back to La Spezia. We were wrong. We arrived at the
station, early even, and I ran to open the train door but it was already
locked. The train departed - the 5:51 train that Felicia said we HAD to take in
order to make it back on time. So we had to call her and wait for the next one,
dreading the walk back on to the bus as those
people who make everyone wait for them to depart. Oops!
It wasn’t really hitting me yet that I’d be leaving
Florence in just 2 weeks. There was no time to think about it – school was busy
and stressful with last minute projects, papers, and studying for finals. I was
anxious to be done, just like any other end-of-semester feeling I’ve had.
Except this time, I knew I wouldn’t be returning in the fall. For a while I
think I denied accepting the fact, just to spare me long-term grief. There were
reminders, though, like when Monica, our resident director, took a half hour of
our Italian class to explain the post trip depression and reverse culture shock
we’d most likely experience. This made me tear up; I still couldn’t fathom
going back to my life in America.
Italian class had been one of my favorites, probably
because my professor Manuela was such a great person. I loved her random,
insightful speeches about life she’d give our class. And she’d always end up
apologizing for them, feeling she was getting off topic and a little carried
away. I loved having a professor that was so interested in our hopes, dreams
and aspirations – she saw something in every one of us. On one of our last days
she brought us all homemade tiramisu and also wrote down and read aloud a poem
she had written for us:
Spero
che il
sapere
il conoscere
piú cose
possa imprimervi
nel vostro
cuore
e aiutarvi
a diventare
felici
e a
costruire un mondo
pieno di
umanitá e speranza.
It basically translates to say “I hope that knowledge and
knowing more things may impress in your heart and help you become happy and
build a world full of humanity and hope.” Tears formed in Manuela’s eyes as she
read it aloud. She then proceeded to write down her email address so that we may
all stay in contact. She was serious. After class she told me to come back and
visit her, and that she has an extra room in her house for me to stay when I
do. I fully intend to take her up on that – hopefully in the very near future!
My other professors showed interest in staying in touch
as well by saying if we’re ever in Florence, give them a call and we’ll meet up
to have a cappuccino. Italians really cherish those intimate settings, like
local cafes, where often times I felt like I was seeing the truest friendships
interacting. I think the idea of “just Facebook friends” would be ridiculous to
them.
On Monday (April 23rd) we had our bittersweet
farewell dinner at Teatro della Pergola. It was fabulous, with a cocktail
buffet in the foyer before a four course meal in the former ballroom of the
historic opera house. I received my certificate of recognition for my
contribution to the Florence Newspaper – it was signed by the President of the
Tuscany region! It was also the first and last time I wore heels abroad. Haha!
Tuesday had become a highly anticipated day of the week
for me, ever since I began going with my friends to Beatles’ night at the club
BeBop near the Duomo. For two hours an Italian cover band would play the best
Beatles songs. They’d have the place packed with people, and everyone would be
dancing when they played “Twist and Shout”! You had to reserve tables in
advance if you wanted a seat. They looked, sounded, and acted just like the
Beatles – they were probably the best cover band I’ve ever seen. It was nice
finding regular live music in Florence. I missed it, and that was definitely
more of my idea of fun as opposed to a club. We even became close friends with
the band. I just wish we would have found out about the place sooner in the
semester!
It still hadn’t gotten as hot as I’d like, but my trip to
the Amalfi Coast was on the horizon regardless. I welcomed it after a tough
Fashion Marketing & Merchandising final, and was sad but excited that it
was my final trip together with my wonderful friends. We planned it through
Florence For Fun and met Thursday, April 26th, to board a bus full
of girls. We arrived in Sorrento where we checked in to our hotel, slept a
while, then woke bright and early to spend the day on the island of Capri. We
walked, descended down numerous steps, and walked some more to the port where
our cruise-like-ship was waiting to take us to the island. From the island we
took a smaller boat tour around the island. The views were magnificent - everything
from the blue ocean spotted with jellyfish, to the colorful, rocky formations
extending from the mainland.
At one point we stopped at the Blue Grotto, a famous cave
in which the water seems to illuminate the entirety in a bright blue hue. There
were four of us in the row boat, practically lying down because the entrance to
the cave was only about 3ft. tall from the water’s surface. It was a glorious 5
minutes, just a little expensive – 8.50 euro for the entrance, 4 euro for the
boat, and a tip if your rower sang a song. Ours let out a few melodramatic
verses of “Volare” right at the end of our tour.
The rest of the day we spent at the beach and exploring
Capri. It was the most beautiful beach I had ever been to. The water was calm
and sparkling, but still pretty cold - we swam around a bit then made a run for
two rocks sitting out several feet from the shore. Since my dreams of cliff
jumping were shattered when our tour guide informed us we weren’t going, I
thought jumping off these rocks would have to suffice. Unfortunately I forgot
my sunglasses were on my head and I lost them forever in the beautiful waters
of Capri.
That evening at the hotel, while everyone else was going
out, Lizzie and I were camped out in the lobby working on a news article due
for the issue of The Florence Newspaper coming out the following week. I guess
it was an unusual site – we kept getting weird stares. One Italian guy came
closer to us, dropped his orange on the ground in front of our feet, picked it
up, and then proceeded to introduce himself. I’m not sure it was on purpose,
but it was a hilarious way to meet someone.
Our second day at the Amalfi Coast was spent in the town
of Positano at a black sand beach. The drive there was along a road so high up
and so near the edge that the entire time I was shifting between admiring the
views and fearing for my life. But we reached our destination, no problem. The “black
sand” was more like scorching hot black pebbles, painful to walk or lay on. I
might as well have been a rotisserie chicken, switching sides with the constant
sun beating down on my burnt skin and heat seeping up through the towel. The
water was refreshingly cold, but I could only swim around for about 15 minutes
before I’d start to shiver.
On the drive back, I began talking to our trip leader. I
noticed she had a Scottish accent so I thought I’d ask her about Scotland since
I would be going there the following week. She had wonderful advice about food,
places to go, things to do, and it made me even more anxious to begin my solo
travels. “What about Glasgow?” I said. “I’m thinking of going there.” “Well, I
know it’s like one of the murder capitals of Western Europe,” she said. “But it’s
a cool place.” It was then that I decided, you know, maybe I don’t need to see
EVERY city in Scotland… haha.
Our last day had to be the most epic, of course! We first
visited Pompeii, the town that was completely covered in ash from Mount
Vesuvius’ eruption in AD 79, killing more than 16,000 people. I never thought I’d
make it there, but I felt extremely lucky to see something so historic. Seeing the
actual bodies of the people, still covered in ash and shaped in the exact
position of their death was astounding. After the walk through the town we went
to hike the volcano responsible for the destruction – Mount Vesuvius. It was a
long, steep hike up and down, but from the top you could see a gorgeous view of
the bay of Naples. The heat and wind stung my blistered skin, but that was a
small price to pay for the experience of hiking a still-active volcano.
The Monday of my final week in Florence was an experience
I’ll never forget, mostly because it put the icing on the cake – showing me
just how amazing Florence is and how much harder it would be to leave it all
behind. It was Notte Bianca (White Night), which basically was an all night
party, starting at 6pm and ending at 6am. There was music, events, games, at
every piazza and ponte in the city, with white lights, clothing, and
decorations. I missed the release of white lanterns along the Arno, but started
my partying with the city shortly thereafter. We basically roamed from piazza
to piazza, letting our ears and eyes guide us to anything interesting. There
was a fun classic rock concert at Piazza della Repubblica, tango dancing at
Piazza Santa Croce, and eventually we found ourselves in a mosh pit with the young
Italian crowd at Piazza Mentana. One of my favorite spots was in Piazza San
Firenze, where a dj some four or five stories high played electroswing music
from a historic building-turned-backdrop for a funky spotlight show. I made it
until about 4am, when a stop for gelato and a little rain storm marked the end
of my partying with the entire city of Florence!
Here are more pictures from my time in Prague, Cinque Terre, Florence, and the Amalfi Coast!
