Italia

My voyage to Italy began last Wednesday, the 15th. The night class I normally have on Mondays had been moved to Wednesday because of Easter. After class, I went to Stacy's flat. We left from there to catch a 10:30OM shuttle to London Stansted airport. Our flight wasn't until 6:10AM, but it is not possible to get to the airport at 4:00AM. Instead, you have to go the night before and wait it out.

The night in the airport was not the best night's sleep I've ever had, to put it mildly. It was perhaps worse than that night I slept in my car in Nevada--at least Nevada had stars and lacked obnoxious European teenagers. We got there at around 11:45PM, and of course we could not go to the gate. There were no free chairs anywhere (all were covered in sleeping people), so we grabbed a patch of floor that was semi-protected by the overhang of the departure board sign. Using my jacket as a pillow, I looped one arm through my backpack strap and curled up beneath the overhang, determined to sleep. I'd only just managed to doze a bit when a large group of roughly 17 yr old Europeans of some kind (occasionally I thought I picked out French words, but sometimes they sounded almost Italian...I was tired and couldn't place their language) decided that it would be great fun to start racing each other within feet of where Stacy and I were sleeping. They proceeded to loudly horse around for about an hour. I should point out that Stacy and I were not the only ones sleeping in the airport; Stansted was littered with sleeping travellers. I was sorely tempted to trip the kids as they loudly scurried about in front of us. One good thing about this, however--it was the most judicious use of the insult "asshats" that I have yet encountered.

By the time they left, sleep had mostly escaped me. I was freezing, for one thing, and I eventually gave in and used my towel as a blanket. That helped a lot and I got an hour or so of vague rest. We checked in as soon as we could. Once at the gate (around 4:30AM) there were endless rows of cushioned chairs! We each grabbed a row and decided that these ugly airport bench-chairs were the most comfortable pieces of furniture in existence, and we slept soundly until boarding the plane. The flight was uneventful. I probably could have slept more on the plane except it was a bloody Ryanair flight so they screamed advertisements at you the whole time. I hate Ryanair.

And then we were in Rome! There was a shuttle right to central Rome, and after getting some gelato we hopped on the metro to our hostel. When I booked this hostel, my confirmation e-mail contained what seemed like very descriptive, easy-to-follow walking directions to the hostel from the metro stop. But when we got off the train, we couldn't work out what the directions were referencing. After wandering down a dodgy industrial alley, we realized we were lost and trekked back to the station, hoping for a map. Once back at the station, I figured out the problem. The exit we were supposed to take was closed for engineering works. After that breakthrough we found the hostel rather easily. It was definitely sketch, though--it was a doorway off of an alleyway that was accessed via a graffiti-encrusted, littered pedestrian tunnel. It was certainly not a paragon of cleanliness, either, but the owner was so earnestly friendly and helpful that I forgave the shabbiness. He gave us excellent suggestions for itineraries during our two days in Rome.

First we went to St. Paul's Outside-the-Walls, which was in walking distance of the hostel. It was literally jaw-dropping. The outside of it, while pretty, was nothing tremendous compared with some basilicas I've visited. But the interior...I wandered in and then just stopped for several minutes, mesmerized and not a little overwhelmed by the majesty of the basilica. According to Catholic tradition, St. Paul is buried there, and one could view the burial site in front of the altar. The gardens of the basilica were also gorgeous. Furthermore, Rome was sunny and warm. Stacy and I ditched our jackets for the first time all semester. My bare arms saw sunlight for the first time since October. Absolutely beautiful.

Next we went to the Colosseum and the Roman forum. Like so many other celebrated sights, the Colosseum just suddenly appears in front of you. It is directly in front of the metro stop exit, just hanging out there. The Colosseum! Its surroundings were spectacular as well--I felt like I was in a Renaissance painting with the gentle green hills and distinctive trees dotting the ruins. As Stacy and I hesitantly queued up (there were a few different queues, and we were trying simultaneously to decipher which queue to go to and what kind of ticket we were buying), a guy approached us and offered us a tour for 10 euro of both the Colosseum and the Forum. I'd been warned about these people, and if I had been alone I definitely would have refused. But Stacy seemed really set on a Colosseum tour, and 10 euro was fairly cheap, so we did it. I suppose we lucked out, because our guide was quite good--we managed to find one of the few quality, legit tour companies. Still, I didn't get much out of the Colosseum tour but that was just because I was a Roman history nut (or used to be, at any rate) and not because the information we were given wasn't good. It was more than enough for me to be standing inside of the Colosseum, taking pictures and letting my imagination run wild across the ruins.

The Forum tour, though, was definitely worth it. I didn't really know anything about the Forum beforehand. The Roman Forum is the area of ruins where sort of "downtown" ancient Rome was. It's this gorgeous jumble of ruined buildings and ancient temples that's now covered in spectacular flowering shrubs and trees--in fact, part of the Forum is now a botanical garden. You stroll along the Via Sacra and the air is saturated with the scent of flowers, you're surrounded by fragments of ancient Rome, and life is amazing. I adored the Forum, and we spent a good amount of time there, but I could have gone there with a book and sat for days on end and been enormously content. But it was getting near 6:30PM at this point; we hadn't slept or eaten in longer than I cared to think about. So we went over to the Spanish steps, climbed them and took some pictures, then headed back towards our hostel, thinking food there would be cheaper than in central Rome. This was probably a sound idea, but there actually wasn't a whole lot right around our hostel and we walked for a while before finding a restaurant, where the menu was entirely in Italian. I truthfully thought I'd recognize more on the menu than I did, which was probably a really arrogant assumption. Luckily for us we had a very kind waiter (who turned out to be Greek) who spoke English and helped us order. He also brought us free drinks at the end of our (very tasty) meal. By the time we were done eating we were completely exhausted--keep in mind this was Thursday night, and we had not really slept since Tuesday night, and we'd been sight-seeing/travelling all day. Sleep was called for, and I slept like a rock.

Friday morning dawned sunny and warm. We partook of the included breakfast--decent tea and toast with the most amazing strawberry jam. And we set out for Vatican City. It was important to Stacy, as she's Catholic, and important to me since the Vatican has played such a central role in Western civilization. Also, I was looking forward to all of the pretty.

We decided to do the Vatican museums first and then go to St. Peter's. The queue for the museums was ridiculously long but somehow only took about 25 min. Honestly, I have mixed feelings about our three hours in the Vatican museums. We saw some spectacular things, certainly, but it's such an overwhelming experience. It is at least on par with the Louvre in size and scope and is probably bigger (I don't know off hand). It was sensory overload and not a little exhausting. The highlight of the galleries for me was certainly seeing Raphael's fresco "The School of Athens"; I keep a copy of that painting over my desk at school and it has long been one of my favourites. The other galleries were gorgeous as well but there was just so much to take in; it was definitely over saturation.

However, at the end of the galleries we were rewarded with the Sistine Chapel. It was a bit smaller than I expected, but astounding. I do think I would have appreciated it more if I had not just come from three hours of wandering crowded galleries; also, the chapel itself was absolutely packed with people. What I found most spectacular about the Sistine Chapel was not necessarily the artwork itself but rather how the artwork had been crafted to completely fill the space. Considering how the work was actually done is mind-blowing. Of course, the frescoes themselves were fantastic, but again you must bear in mind that I'd just spent several hours appreciating Renaissance painting. I never thought I'd say that there's a quota for that sort of stuff, but by the time we walked out of the Sistine Chapel I reached it.

Blinking in the bright Italian sunlight, we made our way to St. Peter's Sq, stopping for gelato on the way. When we got to the square we immediately joined the queue for the basilica, as it was intimidatingly large. St. Peter's Sq is I think the most spectacular public square I have ever been in. It is surrounded by two semi-circular columnades , and there are two lovely fountains. The basilica sits at the back of the square, solemn and beautiful. I was blissfully content while eating my tiramasu gelato in the warm sunlight in St. Peter's Sq. Luckily this queue also moved quickly, and before I knew it I was standing inside of St. Peter's Basilica.

I cannot describe it. I don't know that it is even worth trying. You should probably just google pictures. I know that is a ridiculous cop-out, but the inside of St. Peter's completely robbed me of speech. It is so spectacular that Michaelangelo's brilliant sculpture, La Pieta, can be fairly placed in an alcove off to one side. The work is beautiful enough to adorn the basilica, but cannot draw attention away from the basilica's own magnificence. We spent quite a while, probably a full hour, inside. Remarkable. We then made the 500+ step ascent to the cupola of the basilica. My fear of heights kicked in a bit when we got to the top, I must admit. The views were spectacular but I had a difficult time getting near the railing; I had thought I was more or less over the heights thing. Apparently not.

We rested from our climb in the sunlight in St. Peter's Sq. I actually dozed for a bit. We then had great fun wandering through the touristy markets and shops that surround the Vatican (I think the basket of baby Jesuses I found was the highlight, personally). After leaving the Vatican we went to the Trevi fountain, which was beautiful and packed with people. We got dinner around there (with a slightly less friendly waiter than we'd had the night before, but a menu partly in English). Night had fallen by the time we finished dinner and we weren't tired, so we walked around the Pantheon and through some pretty happening (and gorgeous!) piazzas. Gelato was had again. Life was beautiful, and I was content and sleepy when we finally went back to our hostel.

Except once in bed I discovered that our hostel shared a wall with a nightclub. It actually sounded like the nightclub was in our room. I did not sleep at all because all I could hear was pounding music and loud conversations all night. Funnily enough, the next morning Stacy said she had not heard anything. I always knew I was a light sleeper, but I can't believe she did not hear that nonsense. Considering we had to get up at 5:30AM to get to the train station to leave for Venice, I was essentially a zombie.

We made it to the station in time to figure out how to buy tickets and to locate the platform (and we even remembered to validate our tickets) so I was quite proud as we boarded the train. The train was the best one I've ever been on, way more comfortable and nicer than the Eurostar between London and Paris. Good thing, too, because we were on it for five hours. Stacy slept most of the way, but I could only doze a bit in the beginning and then I was mostly awake, watching the Italian countryside roll by and updating my journal. When we reached Venice I was very excited because the directions to our hostel included taking the waterbus--in Venice, the public transportation system is made up of boats! My enthusiasm was dampened a bit by how expensive they were (and unfortunately our hostel was on a different island than the main one so we had to spend the extra money on a pass). It was still novel and fun, though.

Venice was gorgeous and I immediately fell in love with it. It is so unique among cities. We actually didn't do a whole lot while we were there--we toured the Doge's Palace, went to mass at St. Mark's, and wandered the Rialto market but other than that we just explored and sat in sunny piazzas and enjoyed the absence of traffic. It was so beautiful. I think by the time we left late Sunday afternoon Stacy was ready to go; I don't think there had been enough action for her there. But I had supremely enjoyed our peaceful time in Venice. I found it to be a really calming city. There were a lot of tourists, and it is probably unbearable in the summer because of the crowds, but while we were there it was lovely. I could have spent days on end meandering its adorable alleys and crisscrossing the tranquil canals, eating pizza and gelato and resting in beautiful piazzas surrounded by awesome architecture. I completely adored Venice and would love to go back.

We made it back to London with no difficulty, except that by the time we got back into central London it was 2:00AM and the Tube had stopped running so we ended up having to walk for a half hour to get to Stacy's flat, where we promptly crashed since we both had work quite early that morning.

And now it is Thursday the 23rd. My brother turns 23 today (old man!) and I have just two days left in London. More on my last week here later.

The closer it gets, the harder it is to think about leaving.