You've Got Sunshine

It's been crashing and pouring rain in Rome for the past few days (I think it was the tail-end of a raging cyclone that's hit Europe) but today was crisp, clear and sunnnnnny. What else is there to do but embrace the tourist within and rent bikes in the Villa Borghese Gardens?

Not quite on the grand scale of Central Park but the gardens are a welcome change from all the rough and tumble cobblestones of Rome. It's also probably the only place where you see people exercising outside, people stare at you all funny if you try and do a morning jog weaving between alleyways and vespas. *cough* At least I've heard they do, if you think I've been doing anything to fight this Italian carb fest, you'd be sadly mistaken. The IMA is a distant memory as far as I'm concerned.

Only one steering wheel really works so the extra is just a toy and dang, it was harder to control than the motorized go-karts in Barcelona! I'm whipping out dresses as soon as the sun stops playing hard to get again, haha.

The Florentine Ages

I hopped on an Eurostar train bound for chilly Florence for the weekend with my giant 32 person group. (I swear I will never travel in herds, packs, flocks or gaggles ever again - it's an absolute nightmare). Daylight hours were a blast but nightlife? There could not be more drama and we all know how much Faith loathes drama - I don't roll that way. I got chewed out by my professor for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. You don't want to see an angry South African man in all his fury at 3 a.m. Yikes

The sepia washed photo is from inside the Duomo or Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence (a.k.a. Firenze, the origin of the name of which I still need to wikipedia). I huffed and I puffed all 463 steps up to the top of the dome overlooking the soft fog that nestled all over Florence. Stairs were killer but absolutely worth it for the bomb diggity view.

The only export is leather, I swear. I could smell cow hide in every twist and turn down alleys and every shop window flaunted rows upon rows of leathaaaa purses, jackets and wallets. But where else would you want leather than Italy?? So yes, I now have a rockin' leather jacket but from Rome. I like to think it makes me look tougher than I really am - gotta make up for my being vertically challenged!

Mwah

Amen and Obamarama

"We ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around. When yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right. That all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen."

From Reverend Joseph Lowery's Inaugural Benediction January 2009

Starbucks No More

I thought I would miss Seattle coffee and I do to some extent but the comparison is difficult to make. It's a completely different culture - Italians do everything slow and leisurely, except when it comes to drinking espresso. They're in and out of the cafe (or bar as they call it) in 90 seconds, giving you whiplash. No studying and savoring your drink for over an hour but its so fun to watch how cafes operate. I usually despise hot drinks (what's the point? they get cold so quickly) but I've adapted here, yum yum.

Espressos are in wee little cups and customers drink it first and then down an entire cup of hot water afterwards. A touch odd and I haven't tried it yet but sign me up! Not to mention a cappuccino is usually under a Euro, making Starbucks sound extravagantly priced. I haven't seen a single store here and good riddance, despite having a McDonald's, I have a feeling the Italians would never go for setting up a Starbucks and threatening the local little cafes.

The photo is of this AMAZING hot chocolate but it'll have to do! And yes, Barcelona was one of the best weekends of my life. Nightclubs on the beach, flaming drinks, nights filled with salsa dancing and the fun all beginning only after midnight. Goodness and I thought NYC was the city that never sleeps.

P.S. Note to self: Start a journal. I completely forgot to bring mine here and I hate having fragmented diaries (I get bored and start new ones ... because they're pretty & hard to resist) but I'll just have one specifically for my stay here. Not everything can go into this blog. =)

This is ... BARCA!

Photos need to accompany this post so that´ll be a separate entry when I get back to Italy. One night in Barcelona has officially blown away 10 days in Roma. Maybe its because its more metropolitan but the people! the buildings! the things to do! There´s so much to keep my head spinning. And the hostel I´m currently staying in is the first I´ve ever been in but I have a feeling every one I will be at thus after has big shoes to fill. Free internet, neat beds, nutella for breakfast and ... the nightlife is fantastic beyond words.

This guy at my hostel took my entire group and met up with another hostel to hustle us into taxis like a herd of sheep and sent us to a nightclub on a BEACH. Entrance was free for us and these stairs on the boardwalk and first drink was on the house too. It was a swanky place with a 10,000 euro bottle Dom Perignon on the menu O_o and the audience was dressed to the nines. One guy barely got in since he was sporting a sweatshirt and a lot of sharper dressed Spaniards couldn´t get in past the bouncer later. The Mediterranean Sea was crashing waves right in the back porch of the club (Carpe Diem, which means ¨seize the day¨ in Latin). What a way to start a weekend in Barcelona out right.

And today? Drove around a mini motorcycle-go cart hybrid all around the city for 3 hours, getting lost, pulling in the sights and getting stares and waves from everyone who gawped at the bright yellow vehicle and the obvious tourists (moi) within. I must have circled the entire city and am still in shock I could even navigate the roads of a major European city. But it´s time for a ¨siesta¨now, a slang term to take a nap while everyone else takes breaks from work all around.

Baci Baci

The Quirks of the Italian

Ah Italia, I just started hitting a bit of a slump here. Don't worry, no bringing out the sympathy cards because I know it's just the little things and I have absolutely no real basis to be complaining. It's not quite homesickness but an odd unexplainable feeling of sadness and frustration that just hit me like a punch in the face. The only way I can call people is on Skype and that's only if I have my laptop plugged into one particular spot in my apt, a 25 minute walk from school. It's also been weary dreary rain here for a few days pretty much shutting down any motivation to go and explore. These cobblestones become all these individual seas of muddy rainwater - oi.

Rollercoaster Times

• The food is delicious but there's only so much pasta and bread you can consume. I'm craving pho, bubble tea, steak, fries - the list goes on and on. I've actually bought groceries but too lazy to really check if I'm actually saving money that way. I need a little variety to excite my tastebuds!
• I think I almost get hit by a couple of scooters, a bus or tiny little Fiat every single day. The alleys are so narrow and you almost don't see the vehicle coming until your hair whips around you and you're choking on exhaust while clutching the side of the alleyway for dear life.
  
• There's a little store for everything! One with the mindnumbing wafts of baking bread, a store with displays of every meat available etc. It's nice since you can get the best of the best at speciality shops but that also means no more one stop shopping a la Safeway.
  
• Siesta - The Italians aren't too keen on working overtime and completely scoff at one of the golden rules of U.S. retail: "the customer is always right." Almost all the places shut down for two hours in the middle of the day for lunch and who knows what else. Course I end up slinking away from the barred gates with a sad face half the time because I plumb forget they close.
  
• Oh, and even policemen check you out. Well if you're of the female variety that is. There must be three different precincts of cops around here from government sancitoned to local ones and something akin to the FBI/CIA. Not a lot of suits walking around, just uniformed officials - v. weird to get used to.
  
• And only in Rome (right next to the Vatican City) are there shops where you can buy the garb that nuns, popes and cardinals wear. Early Halloween costumes anyone?

xoxo,

FAITH

I forgot to label this one - Oops

Yesterday was certainly eventful ... wine isn't very fun to drink quickly and red wine is practically running through my veins at this point since its the only other thing to drink! I carry a water bottle with me everywhere (thank you SIGG!) and fill it up at public fountains (no, not the actual fountains with statues and the like) since they charge for water at every restaurant. Redonk.

I sat on the Spanish Steps that were flooded with sunlight and soaked in the views, chatter and read a bit. It was utterly relaxing not to mention there is certainly some nice eye candy around those parts. ^_~
And bumping into Will Smith there wasn't so bad either!! Some of these outfits I see are wacko. I saw a couple and the woman strutted her stuff in snakeskin pants and platform shoes thrown back to the Spice Girls era and the guy was decked out in a white tuxedo in the middle of the day. V. Italian.

The array of cones above are at an elaborate gelato place near the Spanish Steps where they put everything from umbrellas to cookie straws in your cone - adorable!

Funny Story of the Day: Faith tripped down part of the Spanish Steps in front of a 1000 tourists, typical.

Much Love!

Of a Cozy Little Abode

These are the two bedrooms that two other girls and I are sharing. There's kitschy little throw pillows and blankets everywhere with patterns that completely clash -- and I love it! Random artwork scatters the walls and the rustic tile floor is toasty warm at random times. And oh yes, somehow, they gave me the big double bed in the photo to the right. All the better to flay out my arms and legs at night. =)

Gelato of the Day: San Crispino's Vanilla Creme with Honey ~ The best thus far! Its been rated by the NY Times and is located right by the Fontaine de Trevi, which is 2 min. away from my apt. And although I feel lame for liking something that's already been voted the best gelato in all of Rome, who cares?! It's heavennnn.

Funny Story of the Day a.k.a. Faith's Miscommunication Tales: I wanted to find Bulmer's Irish Hard Cider which I've craved since London last year and I swear I spotted it in a store. So I asked the shopkeeper if they carried it and he goes "B?" like "Bee"? and proceeds to flap his arms like a buzzing bee. So I go "Yes! That's it, it starts with a "B". He gets very very excited and I follow him to an aisle where he proudly presents me with ... a jar of honey. Oops. So my next mission is to track down that cider!

Baci ~ (It means "kisses")

Cobblestones and Gelato

Praise the Lord!

Roma is absolutely, breathtaking, jaw-dropping amazing. I've barely taken out my camera in fear that I'll never put it away. The plane ordeal was a drop in a bucket once I landed, my apartment is ridiculously cutesy and quaint. It oozes Italian in every nook and cranny. These folks don't believe in dryers so we have to hang up all our clothes in the apt. I'm sure its adorable in the summer when everyone hangs it outside in the wind, just like in des films. Everything is furnished down to pale shell pink plates to rockin' gramma-style crocheted blankets. I shall post some photos of it when I can to spice up this blog.

Other than that, I tried Nutella gelato and yes, I will tell you what flavor gelato I tried in every blog post, much like the word of the day. This can be educational too dear ones! The word of the day is: "Dove" (the e has an accent on it), pronounced "dohv-ay" which means "where is." That was a life saving phrase if I ever heard one, I went all around Rome at 8 pm navigating narrow alleyways with half my luggage trying to find my school twittering "dove Campo d'Fiori?". People here are extremely sweet though. =) And I'm off to do some errands like get me a spiffy Italian cell to use in case I get myself into all sorts of ruts!

Till next time, buongiorno

Heathrow

I lied.

I'm in Heathrow Airport in London and my freaking gate number hasnt been announced 45 minutes before departure!! I'm going to tear my hair out, plus I spent 6 dollars to go on the internet for 50 minutes and I'm damn well going to use it even if it means running to my plane.

This is a no good, very bad, horrible start. But I am calm. Cool. Collected. Breathe in, breathe out. British keyboards are all kinds of messed up, it took me a minute to find the @ button. I still have time left on here and do you know what I'm gonna do? Be the nicest person ever and let someone use the rest of my minutes since now I must dash to my plane. Gosh, pat myself on the back. haha.

Cheers folks, I'm gonna need all the good wishes I can get!

(Insert Swear Word Here)

Don't get too excited now, I'm still in Seattle - at the Hilton Hotel - wearing the same clothes I donned 24 hours ago. How did I end up in this predicament you say? Why, let me tell you the tale of how Faith found herself in this ball o' fun.

I sat on the runway last night (in the plane, not on the ground, just to clarify, haha) for about 5 hours as they de-iced the wings over and over again as all the passengers' hopes got lifted and shot down faster than you can say "boo bop panda gumdrop." So they shipped us off like cattle (British Airways is accomodating though, I must say) to the nearby Hilton for the night as our flight was re-scheduled. So it looks like I have free miniature toiletries and will be arriving in Rome 24 hours late. Now how's that for an entrance eh?

So I'm gonna go cash in my free lunch voucher here and then play 6 hours of Gameboy at the terminal yet again, gosh, its like deja vu!

If my next blog isn't from Italy ... there will be hell to pay!

T-Minus 2 Days

Argh!

I. am. completely. unprepared.
Do you think its possible to cram enough Italian phrases worthy of a beginner with one looooong plane ride and 8 hour layover? Ha, I scoff at my silliness.
And my baggage is way over 50 pounds but it's not like I can dump out essentials that I need! Plus I still don't have internet, hence, I type away furiously during my 30 minute online session courtesy of the local library.

I hear Italian opera playing in the behind me in the book stacks, it must be a sign. A sign that ... I must visit Pavarotti's grave? Ok, I'm nixing signs.

Almost blogging from Rome but not quite, till next week my dears! Ciao ciao.