Roam Rome

Marco told me a professor of his said this about language.

“Spanish (and underdeveloped language) you can use to speak to family and friends. German (harsh and commanding) you use to speak to a beast. English is for the rest of the world, while French is for your lover. But Italian, Italian you use to speak to God.”

I went to Rome for Pasqua. And it was a spiritual experience as well as a destination for every wanderlust heart.  My plan had been to see Rome for Easter all along. But then my friends decided to come from America on this special Sunday. I thought all was lost, until we together, decided to spend the holy week in the holy city.

Rome has become my favorite city by far. Layers of history can been seen. The newer layer being the capital building, the Spanish steps, The Trevi Fountain. Under this put the Vatican, a truly holy place. And deep below, put the Roman ruins of the Coliseum and Roman Foram.

The Vatican. I am not catholic. I never intend to be catholic. But I really appreciate the history this place has. The smallest country in the world single-handedly protected the worldest farthest spread religion. Christianity. My religion. I come here with an awe. I can actually see the history of the bible in this city. The Romans that crucified Christ lived in this city. They turned to Christianity in this city.

I saw the Pope. During the Via de Cruxifix I saw the Pope light up the faces of the masses. The people that may not  think of religion on an ordinary day of the week  recited the bible and the mass back to the man that may actually be the ‘president of the planet.’ I saw what belief people have, even when they don’t say it daily. This was refreshing.

Then I saw the beautiful ruins of a coliseum. Brown and pink brick lightend by white mortar. A beautiful sight if you are interested in things older than about 2,676 years. (Just a estimate.) The place where wretched things happened to slaves and prisioners for the entertainment of the wealthy. This same place, thousands of years later was dotted with the colors of all the tourist whose breath had been taken away.

I found this city to be more than I expected. Making me desire to stay in the country with the holy language. I found myself defending the country that I adopted to my Native American friends. I couldn’t help but be in love and be the world’s best traveler.

 

So, enjoy my adventure:

 

A Special Day in Cinque Terre

My American friends have arrived. My best friend, actually. I mean, I will be a bridesmaid at her wedding. Which...brings me to the point.

Months before the arrival, speaking to Kari's boyfriend, I found he was deciding to propose. In Italy. How romantic. So, I helped him plan the unexpected, yet completely memorable proposal in Cinque Terre.

And...she said yes. Here is a short video made especially for them. Congratulations, Kari and Dustin!

And to all my travel loving readers...tomorrow, I will go to Rome. To Rome, for the first time.

A Straniero in Alghero

Last weekend I had a great adventure. I was able to go to the island everyone has talked about...Sardegna.

After being escorted to the airport by my favorite man, I flew to Alghero. Here I caught a bus, found my hostel, and called the owner to let me in. He is on the bike, so I will take a lunch first. A lunch on the beach!

Yes the beach!!! The American 20-something tradition of a spring break has made it's way to Italy. I was able to see the best sea in Italy.

Although my plan was to see many sights, I ended up spending four days on the beach, reading/sleeping. What was I reading you ask? Well, Robinson Crusoe, of course. He was on an island, I was on an island.

The sea in Sardegna is green, blue, and clear. With the deep relaxation and peace comes wonderful thoughts. Like:

Hmm...I think I was made to live on a beach.

Oh, that cute kid playing in the sand. I remember when that was fun. It wasn't THAT long ago. I am not yet old.

Man, those waves are pretty constant. They change, but they are the same. I may have moved to Italy, but I am me, and will always be.

With such a perfect setting, I think everything will be ok. Marco will get a job on a beach, and we will live happily ever after. :) (Obviously...)

Then I decide to see the Grotto de Neptuno. I ask the man for a boat ride (in Italian, because I am improving..) nope, closed until next week.

So I will take a bike ride in the national park. I go to rent a bike. Nope, closed on Sundays.

Grotto seen from Alghero

What I spent the weekend doing

Different shades of blue in the water!

 

I learned how well I do on my own speaking in the native language. My Italian really has improved. I have learned how absolutely necessary spring break is. It really does ease the mind, and tan the skin.

I also learned how much I miss the man when he is far away. (More than I thought.)

 

Final opinion of Sardegna....GO PEOPLE! (But maybe not in the low season when nothing is open.)



An Apology

Yes, I know. Recently, I have been a very poor blogger. I have not exactly kept up with it. Haven't posted every week. But I do have an excuse. No internet in my apartment. But I do have some news. I may move into my old apartment in short time. There the internet worked well, I had the house to myself, and I had a fantastic reliable landlord. Fingers crossed everyone.

So, I have to be honest, I do not have much to update on currently. My life has been: teach English in the day, help my boyfriend apply for jobs in America in the night, and much sleep deprivation. Today, on a windy  Sunday, I have had the much needed relaxation complete with sleeping in, cuddly under a leopard print blanket, and watching Finding Nemo, (The closest thing I have to the beach at the moment.) And I must admit, this eventless day spent with my favorite man, has been my favorite in a long time. Life happens to quickly for me to keep up sometimes, which leads to long emails to my mother on work time, crying to my friends, crankiness with my wonderful boyfriend, and extreme laziness. But as Dorey says, "Keep Swimming."

Italy is my second home, and to be able to have a lazy day like this and be completely satisfied, just confirms in. In eleven months time I have went from fresh from University with a new job, no friends, and no family in my new country, to being asked to stay at a job I am good at, great fun friends, and a fantastic new family.

But don't worry my traveling readers, I will be at in again next weekend, when I take my spring break to Sardinia. An island/beach that I am in desperate need of. First trip alone since November. A much needed holiday. So stay tuned!

Bologna vs Book

One thing happens when you are in a relationship with a person you adore. You just want to be with the other person. I took a trip alone. A quick trip to Bologna. I was taken to the train, switched twice, and ended up in yet another beautiful city.

But, I took a book. My weakness. So instead of adoring the wonderful scenery, I read an entire book. And that was my Saturday.

 

I came home to a smiling face, and plans for the beach the next day. My life is simple and pleasurable. That is all I can ask for.

Ummm A Weekend

Saturday: Festa della donna

International Women’s Day. A holiday observed in many countries, for equality, nondiscrimination, progress, and solidarity.  The U.N. recognizes this holiday, often tying it to peace.  This year, 2014, the official theme is: Equality for Women, Progress for All.

The holiday began during WWII when proganda announced the death of over a 100 women in a factory in the US, (though the holiday is not observed in the US.) The holiday has political beginnings, but is not always celebrated that way.

Some countries have activist, parades, others promote education, while others have women only dinners (complete with strippers.)

In Italy, however, they celebrate best. This is no longer political, no day of partying. It is a day, however, when men, show how much they appreciate the women in their lives. It is a day with great respect. Of adoration. Of what Italian women deserve.

I must say, Italian women are some of my favorite. They are hospitable, able to cry with you, willing to share knowledge, stylish, intelligent, can eat a whole pizza, cook with both grace and divine ability, buy your lunch, love their men, kind of women, that also giggle when you talk about sex. They deserve this day!

I have a fantastic Italian boyfriend, and I get this day every day.

Sunday: To Grandma’s (San Quirico)

I was invited to Marco’s grandmother’s house, along with all the family. We took an hour roadtrip to a small mideval village high in the hills. Here we arrived to his grandmother’s house, complete with rose bush, olive trees, fantastic views, and a family meal. When we went in the house, I walked into a kitchen out of ‘Under the Tuscan Sun.’ Exactly what you think of when you think the ‘real’ Italy. Exactly what I expected my entire experience in Italy to be. We ate, all talked (in Italian), I understood about 60%. Especially when I was told, ummm…vegan, in Italy…why? I quickly love being with his family, (and his wonderful grandmother, afraid she wouldn’t satisfy a vegan.)

We walked through the vespa sized streets of the village San Quirico, we followed a band in which Marco’s brother played the drums. I smelled the sagra, the food festival of Necci.

I realized as we were walking back to his grandma’s house, how discontentment can be at ease here. Yes, I am the type of person that wants to be known by all. My name will go into the history books, I want to be special. But when it comes to thinking of when I retire, where I would like to spend the last years…a quiet village, a place no one knows. Being annonymous could be quite blissful.

San Quirico

Tuscan hills

Walking in San Quirico

View from Marco's Nonna's terrace.

 

We felt the heat of the sun, and the chill of the wind as we made our way back to the car. On the way home, Marco asked me, “Is there any song you wish you would have written?” My list is long, but the first that comes to mind is U2’s ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.’ As we drove away from the quiet town, and back to reality, my discontentment again sank in. The weekend is coming to an end, and thus is life. Hmmm…

Pancake Day!

Ever wonder what I do for work? What must I do to live in such beautiful country. Well here is a peak of just and ordinary day.

 

Ok, let's get serious. I live in the land that has the pope. Guided by religion. It takes two years to get a divorce. So, I have decided to participate in a religious tradition. Lent. This is the forty days before Easter, in which you give up something. Better yourself.

 

Now usually, what is given up is food. But I am already vegan, and cannot cut out much more. I need the fruits and veggies. So I have decided to give up a combo of activities. One: Excuses. I shall not make excuses for myself, and my laziness. If I really want to learn Italian, if I want to communicate with my boyfriend, family, and friends in their native language, I must study.

 

Two: Sleeping in. My o my how Italy's Mediterranean  lifestyle has ruined me of this. I was speaking to my friend, Elenor, about this. Yes, It is Italy that does this. She is Welsh...from Wales. And in Wales, she does not sleep in. I am American...from America. In America I do not do this.  I remember well, when I first moved here, I would wake at 6:30 every morning for a run. Oh, how I felt the days were long, and filled with more than work. So again, I must wake up. Not at 6:30, let's not fool ourselves, but at 7....30. Better.

 

 

So with all this extra time, I should be able to study Italian like crazy. We will see. Happy Pancake Day. And good luck with you Lent! (...does that sound like a dryer problem?)