Gloryfades.org

This has been a long time in coming and I apologize if anyone was waiting to hear the last of my story. This is actually the end of my story! If you right-click ‘Show Picture’ in Firefox you can see the full-size image of my pictures!

When we arrived in Milan I wasn’t very impressed with the city. Actually, I hadn’t been impressed with the city even before we arrived. What I had read in my rough guide really didn’t stir much excitement in me and having spent most of my time in the most charming of cities in Italy I wasn’t really looking forward to heading towards blahs-ville. But, I wanted to spent as much time with Gord as I could possibly before he left for Toronto. Having been alone for most of my trip I was incredibly homesick and I wasn’t relishing the idea of having to spend four more days alone. I think I mentioned that already, though, so I won’t say it again!

We found our hotel not too far away from the train station. The front desk man was really friendly and eager to get us settled in. Once we dumped our bags into our room we headed out for some grub. Walking around Milan we didn’t feel like a couple of tourists. It just felt like we were in an older part of Toronto or something. Milan also didn’t seem like the fashion Mecca of the Western world for me at that point either. Of course, it wasn’t until later that we found that part of town!

We found a shwarma place near our hotel and a patch of grass where we sat down and ate. Gord was extremely excited about the shwarma. He’d been raving about it since we got together and he finally got to settle his craving in Milan. By then it was nearing early evening. We were exhausted from the travel but didn’t want to go back to the hotel just yet - after all, we only had two days and why stay in a hotel all night when you can go exploring?

We found the large public park in the middle of Milan. We had bought gelati and we strolled through the park while eating it. I got bitten quite fiercely by the mosquitoes by the pond; it wasn’t until well after I came home from Italy that they faded. We wanted to find the Duomo that night so we’d know where to go the next day so we headed down the main Via which is where we saw some of Milan’s more luxurious stores. Prada, Guess, Dolce & Gabanna, Pucci, Gucci and Louis Vuitton. We were even brushed past by a couple of classic Milano broads - fierce outfits, tiny waists and snobby expressions plastered across their faces. I felt a little out of place on that street, but I wasn’t too distressed. I mean, it’s Milan. I’ve been travelling in the same four basic outfits for the past ten days or so. High fashion is the least of my concern. I was just craving a pair of socks that I hadn’t laundered in the sink!

After walking past all of the snooty shops we were finally able to find the Duomo. If you have never head of Milan’s Duomo you should know that it’s one of the wildest church’s in the world. It’s facade incorporates about a billion different architectural styles. It’s actually still being built today! Well, more like it’s being constantly renovated. When Gord and I came across the piazza we approached it from the Duomo’s rear. We were amazed that there was no scaffolding blocking our view. There was only some minor work being done and the scaffolding was painted to blend into the Duomo’s architecture. When we walked up to the building’s front, though, we were met with an entirely different sight. The entire front of the building was covered in a huge silkscreen so you couldn’t even see the Duomo’s architecture from the front. We were flabbergasted. We came all this way to see the one “site” in Milan and it was covered by a cartoon dove.

We weren’t amused.

Still, we got some awesome pictures when we climbed up the stairs the next day.

Statue of Leonardo Da Vinci close to the Duomo

Artsy photo I took of Gord while we sat in the shade. It was a hot day!

Roof of the Galleria Emmanuelle Vittorio II (Lots of chi-chi shopping spots!)

Other side of the same galleria.

Inside the Duomo.

I love this photo of me! Gord’s a fantastic photographer, I think

Love this one too

Relief of a saint. I want to say St. Anne but I’m probably lying.

The carved scene right above the relief pictured above.

Large candelabra with stained glass in the background.

One of my favourite photos. You can see how huge and intense this duomo is from this photograph of the nave. The walls were all made of this dark emerald marble.

Poor Saint Bartholomew. Wearing his own flayed skin!

I loved taking pictures of Barty!

The very highest peak of the Duomo. Yep, we’re on the roof!

Gord looking “angelic” next to a statue of a saint

The boulevard from above!

The entrance to the galleria from the top of the Duomo.

Climbing up the stairs to the Duomo was very, very hard for me. Luckily, I had Gord there to cheer me on. I was quite proud of myself when I made it up the neverending stairs but I did have to take a five minute break to catch my breath. I’m not happy that I’m a lazy and out of shape bum but at least I can take a challenge like that. I could have just said, no, I’m not doing it and rode the elevator to the top but I took the opportunity to prove to myself that I did have the will to be able to do something like that. It was quite nice.

Gord took this picture as well (he always takes the nicest pictures :P) of some of the spires on the roof. You can tell how architecturally complex this building just by looking at these. I mean, they go all the way across the roof!

This is the sight that met us when we were walking towards the building at first. Notice how there is very little scaffolding (apart from the corner!)

The view of the piazza below us. In the top lefthand corner of the piazza, soon after we took this picture, a crowd began to gather. There was a protest! I’m not really sure what it was for cause I was thinking more about how parched I was up on that roof but I’m sure it was a noble cause!

Dizzy yet? Gord was!

We watched the Italy vs. USA soccer game in the piazza after our fancy dinner! We were there when Italy scored against the US. I’ve never seen such a loud and boisterous mob of people. On the way out of the crowd I turned around to find one single US flag waving in the entire crowd of people. That person had some biiig cajones to be waving that around in such a fanatic country!

Our second day in Milan (the day we took most of those pictures above) was spent walking around the city. We didn’t really know what to see in the city since the Duomo was about the only sight we wanted to see. That morning we went to the market right by our hotel room and picked up some fresh cherries. Then we hopped over to a backery store, bought some fresh rolls and pasteries and had a small picnic in the park by the train station. We had to make plans for the next day - Gord was leaving for Toronto and I needed to choose where I’d be going next! I decided on Verona because it was relatively close and I had never been there before.

After breakfast we wandered to the Duomo and spent the majority of our day in the piazza. We climbed the stairs to the rooftop (which was really hard but well worth it in the end) and browsed the high-end stores in the Galleria Emmanuelle Vittorio II. At some point we sat down at the outdoor cafe on the piazza. We were extremely thirsty because it was such a hot day. I was amused by the size of the beer glasses at the cafe so we chose to have something there. Gord had to - of course - have the huge mug of beer which turned out to be a full litre. I settled for the half-litre, haha. It was lovely to just sit in the shade and drink while people-watching.

After the drinks we headed to Zara’s. We were both inspired by all the lovely clothing we saw on the streets so we thought I should see if I could find something. Of course, I forgot that Italian sizes are about five times smaller than Canadian sizes. After spending fifteen minutes waiting for the change room I found that the handful of clothing I had chosen didn’t fit me at all. The one shirt that actually buttoned up strained against my boobs just waiting for me to move so the buttons could go flying off into someone’s eye. I was incredibly disheartened because I had just lost twenty pounds not too long ago and it’s always hard when you feel like a scrub in a roomful of beauty pageant contestants. Gord was amazing though. He let me have a cry right in the middle of the street and he told me how beautiful I was. That was, quite possibly, one of the best moments in Milan.

After that wonderful display of affection we found an Internet cafe where I looked up hostels in the Verona region. It was frustrating cause there was only one place and it wasn’t even in the city. I decided I would find a hostel when I arrived so I wouldn’t have to worry about reservations at that moment.

Then came the most trying part of the evening - dinnertime. Gord and I wanted to have a nice romantic dinner at least once before going our seperate ways and since this was the final night in Milan we had no choice but to do it then. We found a place we wanted to try in my Rough Guide but after spending an hour looking for the place we realized that it either did not exist in the first place or it had disappeared in the three years after the guide was published. We were starving at this point. The last time we had eaten was when we got our beer. The waiter brought over complimentary canapes with our drinks but that was over two hours ago and it was nearly dinnertime. We kept straying further and further away from our hotel which was frustrating because we were both extremely tired from all of the walking that day.

Tempers began to flair but finally we found a restaurant. Of course, the restaurant wasn’t open for another twenty minutes, though. Silly Italians and their mid-day breaks. What’s that all about? So we sat in a McDonalds across the street with a Fanta for twenty minutes while waiting for the restaurant to open.

Finally it did and we had a marvelous meal. I ordered a veal with butter and sage that was just absolutely magnificent and a pasta dish that was too hot for even Gord! He was wonderful, though, and switched with me. I got to indulge in his Florentine Risotto. By the end of the meal we were so stuffed that we couldn’t even have the gelato we wanted to finish off with! We waddled home slowly which is when we came across the soccer game being played on the screen at the Duomo’s piazza!

All in all, a marvelous four days with Gord. The next morning we packed up our things and headed for the train station. Gord’s shuttle to the airport left from the train station and I had my ticket to Verona. I won’t lie - I was utterly devastated that I had to part ways. After four days of having a companion the idea of splitting up and continuing on by myself was really upsetting. I enjoyed having someone to talk to and share a bed with! Plus, having Gord with me just reminded me of how much I actually missed my home. I was ready to trade in my ticket for the next flight home!

But, I didn’t. After he got on the bus I headed straight to my train and got on. Aboard the train I met an American family heading to Venice for the day. Halfway through the trip they realized I could speak English when the father, who was sitting right in front of me, nudged my foot and I apologized and I responded with a clear, “that’s okay”.

We talked at length about how long I’ve been travelling, where I was going, what I saw, what I recommend and all sorts of things. It was nice to take my mind off of leaving Gord in Milan and they were a really friendly family. Mom sat next to me and napped the whole way but Dad and Son sat in front and we had a really lovely chat.

When I got off in Verona I decided to leave my large backpack in the baggage storage for the night. I took out all of the stuff I needed for my one night in Verona and left it with a grumpy old man who looked quite inconvenienced to have me bothering him. Afterwards I got a map from the cute boy in the Tourist booth and found a cheap hotel to spend the night in. Walking towards the centre of town I was struck by how empty the town was. I found my hotel just on the outskirts of the city centre and unloaded my stuff in my room. I had to go to the bathroom really badly so I waited until my room was ready and then headed upstairs to settle in quickly. Once there I decided to read up on Verona before heading out.

To my dissapointment, I found that most places in Verona were closed for a week prior to the opera season beginning. Verona is famous for it’s ancient amphitheatre in the city proper. Each year several operas are performed inside the large building and I happened to be visiting in the week prior to the season! Plus, doubly dissappointing - it was a Sunday. So even if things weren’t closed because of the opera season, most things in Italy are still closed on a Sunday. Luckily for me, though, it was a pretty nice day and there were some things to see still.

Courtyard in Verona with some really gorgeous colours on the walls of these buildings.

Love letters to Juliet Capulet!

The star-crossed lover herself. You can see that the bronze on her breast has been worn down. This is because thousands of people come to stand beside her and make a wish as they cup her boob. I’m not really sure what the significance of this action is but I decided not to do it. Besides, I didn’t want to ask anyone to take the picture for me. What isn’t pictured is the mass of about sixty + people crowded into this tiny courtyard, straining to take a picture with this poor statue.

Signorina Capulet in the foreground with her balcony right above her.

Window display of marzipan animals. This bakery had a full window display of different animals made of colourful (I’m assuming) marzipan. Damn glare! I wish I could have taken a better picture!

Gorgeous little home right by the river.

This would be the view from above house.

There’s the money shot! Wouldn’t you just die to live somewhere like this? I know I would! I wanted to know what that building on top of the hill was but for some reason I decided not to go exploring. I guess I assumed it was just a private villa. My loss!

Old, old murals still intact on the walls of this villa. The piazza’s now lined with overpriced trattoria’s.

Verona was not my favourite city on my entire trip but it wasn’t the worst either. In fact, I didn’t really have a “worst” visit on this entire trip. Sure, Milan wasn’t really impressive but heck, I still enjoy the fact that I’ve been there. Anyway, I was still feeling pretty crappy from earlier that morning so I didn’t go exploring as much as I should have through the city. I spent a lot of it reading and just general people watching. I found some food at a local grocery store and decided to eat dinner at home. I was discouraged when I had my first sucky gelato around midday which didn’t add to my mood either. I did, though, decide to go out again in the evening when it was just starting to get dark. I felt as though I hadn’t really given Verona a fair chance so I went out again and found more really interesting stuff. For some awful reason, though, I didn’t take pictures of things I wish I had now, like the amphitheatre for example. It was wild to be so close to it. I didn’t even go inside of it! I’ve learned that it’s important to explore even when you don’t feel like it because you’ll regret it once you’ve left!

The next morning I left Verona and headed to the next place on my list: Siena.

To get to Siena I had to travel through Florence. While waiting for my bus to Siena I felt like I had landed at home in Florence. I really love that city. If I could choose to live anywhere in the world, it would most likely be Florence. It’s just so beautiful and rich; I find it hard to think about it without a smile crossing my face. I’ve had a lot of good memories in that city!

I arrived in Siena around mid-day. I spent about an hour searching for the cheap-ass hotel I wanted but in the end couldn’t find it. I was so tired and sweaty and frustrated that I settled for a hotel that wasn’t even close to the centre of town. By that point, though, I didn’t care. I wanted to unload and go looking around. I had wasted most of the day in transit and I didn’t want to waste the rest. Once settled I headed out. Of course, it wasn’t until I was right smack in the middle of the town that I realized that I had forgotten my camera in the hotel room. So I hoofed it back to the room and grabbed my camera. I wanted to take some pictures before the day was through since I knew I wouldn’t have time the next day. I had to get my butt back to Pisa the next day so I could catch my flight in the morning the following day!

Once I had my camera, though, I was happy.

Part of Siena’s Duomo … that was never completed!

An apartment building. Notice the kitty? The kitty was cute!

The view from the top of a hill. I had to photoshop this picture because I took it on the nighttime setting by accident. I think it turned out fairly alright. The sky was, in fact, pretty overcast.

Courtyard right below me. I was on the edge of the town proper.

Flags!

The interior of Siena’s Duomo. This was by far my favourite of all the churches I saw in Italy. I loved the crazy patters on the marble! You can’t really see but the Duomo’s dome has golden stars as well that were just *so* pretty!

Mosaic tiles on the floor of the Duomo. Siena must share the tale of Romulus and Remus with Rome! Romulus was the one who founded Rome whil Remus, I believe, was the one to found Siena.

Greek philosophers in Italian marble!

Those are the stars I mentioned. They were so pretty.

This was the altar. I thought it looked very grandiose.

He was coming right out of his portrait!

Like I said, I loved the architecture in this Duomo.

The amount of work that went into this pulpit is just unfathomable!

This was really cool, I thought.

I couldn’t help but marvel at how stunning the view was. I took this on my way back to the hotel. I felt so jealous of the people who lived here and could see this everyday.

I had some greasy pizza on my way back to my hotel and spent the night watching the MTV Movie Awards on MTV. I was grateful for a little American television but quickly fell asleep. The next day I was back in Pisa!

When I arrived I was careful to find somewhere cheap to stay. It had to be close to the train station, though, so I could hop over to that airport quickly. My plane was at an insane time in the morning and I didn’t want to miss it. After settling in I headed out to see what I had been waiting all trip to see: the Leaning Tower.

This was supposed to be the first thing I saw on my trip but I had decided to spend my first day in Florence. I wanted to settle in and really explore that city and I did, so I was not deeply disappointed that I had to wait awhile to see the Leaning Tower. I took a residential path to the site and was really glad I did. Not only did I avoid the crowds of tourists but I happened to spy the tower entirely by accident. As I was walking to the tower I happened to look up and there she was, in all of her slanty glory.

This was how I found her. I looked up from the drink that I was taking and there she was. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud because it was truly the funniest thing I had ever seen. You don’t really get how comical it looks unless you’re standing there and it’s right in front of you. I mean, it is absolutely hilarious!

When I reached the tower grounds I sat down in the shade of the Leaning Tower and just drank in the sight. I was still flabbergasted at how hilarious it actually looked.

I had no idea but the tower is actually surrounded by other buildings. I just sort of assumed it was in the middle of a neighborhood but there’s actually quite a bit of space between the buildings and they’re all sort of connected by this large, lush, green lawn.

The tower peering out from behind the Duomo.

Inside the cemetary grounds. The dead are buried in the enclosed parts. This garden was just too pretty not to take a picture.

View from inside the cemetary.

Pretty burial statues.

The interior of Pisa’s Duomo.

Sucky picture of the modern art on the altar. Seemed so out of place in such an old basilica.

Sucky picture of the nave (It’s hard to take pictures inside churches :/)

One more shot of the Leaning Tower from afar. Yes, people were taking pictures of themselves holding the tower up. It was quite amusing to watch them do this.

The baptistery.

I found some dinner at a restaurant nearby that wasn’t too expensive. The waiter was surprised that I was alone and I felt like a jackass but I still got my pizza. Afterwards I found a bookshop where I picked up a new English book. I had just finished the last one and I was dying for something to read. I wanted to head to the ancient port but it was across town and it was getting dark already so I called it a night. Again, I regret that I didn’t go. I know this was my first time on a trip alone but I do regret that I wasn’t more adventurous. I was scared to go out alone at night, which is probably a normal and expected fear, but I should have been a little more willing to do more, I think. I wouldn’t have as many regrets now! The next time I go on a trip I’ll know from this experience that I should push myself to do more or else I’ll feel badly when I get home.

The next day I bid adieu to Italy. I was still amazed that I was able to do this without a hitch, entirely on my own (apart from Venice and Milan, of course!). I’m incredibly proud of myself for having accomplished this - the decision to go, planning the trip and actually going through with it.

I had a stopover in London for the night and I was supposed to meet my friend Daniela that morning to go sight-seeing with her. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to meet up due to a few issues until the evening. I spent the majority of my day in London waiting for her at the hostel but I did manage to go out at some point to take some pictures. We were right in Piccadilly Circus which was exciting. I’ve never been to London before and I want to go back very badly. I loved what I saw and I want to see more!

The London Eye from St. Jame’s Park. Notice the seagull on the roof of that little cottage?

Wee! Buckingham Palace!

Why isn’t he wearing the red and the big furry hat?

The palace from the park!

Damn camera can’t focus in the dark … yes, that’s me in a red telephone booth, hah!

Yikes, I look haggard :S

Daniela and I finally met around six and we went out for dinner that night. Of course we went and got fish and chips. I mean, first time in London? Hello? Haha, it was fantastic. We got lost in Soho which I hadn’t realized catered to so many kinky shoppers! The next morning Daniela left for Italy and I left for Toronto!

So there we have it, the rest of my story. This took me quite awhile to write out and over quite some time too. I apologize again if you’ve been waiting with baited breath for the rest of my tale. Unexpected issues arose and I just didn’t really have the desire to finish writing this until they were settled. Now that they are here we are! I hope you enjoyed this. I loved taking this trip, it was fantastic and well worth all of the pain and effort. I’ve already forgotten how much the trip cost and really, it’s not about the money anyway - it’s about the experience and the pleasure of doing something for oneself.

I awoke on the Tuesday of my departure from Rome really early. I had a train ticket for the 8:05 train to Venice and I was worried that I wouldn’t make it so I got up around seven. My bags were packed so I only needed to get dressed, washed and breakfasted before heading off to the station which was about a ten minute walk from the hostel.

I said goodbye to the concierge, for lack of a better word. I’m sad to say that I never really caught the girl’s name but she was a lovely person the entire time I was there. Really friendly and we always chatted whenever I came home from my day of exploring so we spent a good ten minutes saying goodbye to each other.

I should mention now that I went to Italy without a watch. I have a watch but it’s not a watch that can be worn while travelling. It’s made of metal and kinda heavy and it’s just not conducive for travelling, so I decided not to take it. I figured that I would have my iPod and my cellphone so I would be fine. When I got to London, though, I found that my cellphone doesn’t work at all in Europe. I figured I wouldn’t have reception since it’s not a GSM phone but I didn’t realize that not even the clock on the bloody thing would work. So the entire time I was in Europe I was a bit time-disoriented. 90% of the time I had no clue what time of day it was.

So when I stepped out of the hostel and began making my way towards the train station I was shocked to find that it was 5 minutes to 8! I wasn’t strictly panicing because some of the clocks that line the streets of Rome don’t really work properly so I figured that particular clock was just fast. But then I saw two more clocks that read the same time. I really started to panic. I walked as fast I could possibly go with the fresh burn on my back which had - by that morning - begun to really hurt.

This is what I did to myself on the last day in Rome. Suffice it to say that it hurt. A lot.

Well, I managed to make my way to the train station in record time, even with the massive burn on my shoulders slowing me down but alas, I missed my train by about five minutes. I had to wait until the next train in two hours so I sat around reading for most of the time.

Eventually, I boarded a four hour long train to Venice. The ride was long and boring and I got really hungry by the end but I stuck it out. I didn’t really want to buy anything on the train and I had a couple of apples with me anyway. I figured I’d get something to eat with Gord once we met up. I was worried that he’d be freaking out over me being two hours late. There was nothing I could do about it, though. I hadn’t thought of bringing the phone numbers of the hostels and hotels with me so I was plum out of luck.

I finally got off the train at Venice. I bought a map of the city at the train station because I was convinced I’d get lost looking for my hotel. The hotel’s website didn’t really have great instructions on how to get to it from anywhere so I was nervous. Once I had a map, though, I realized that the place was laughably close to the train station. It was literally five minutes away, on the same island.

I rushed in and the lady at the check-in desk gave me my room number. I was happy to hear that my “friend” as she put it was already in the room. I thanked her and went upstairs but - of course - I wasn’t able to find my room number. She gave us room 212 but it went from 210 to 213. One room only had the word “Private” written on it. I didn’t want to assume that was mine so I went back downstairs to ask and she told me that it was that room. I wasn’t happy about that; I was hot and sweaty and my shoulders hurt like a bitch. I knocked on the door though and was met with a lovely boyfriend.

Seeing Gord after several long days of being alone in a foreign country was like a Godsend. I was so happy for the company and the conversation. We exchanged stories while I showered and then had some Sprüngli chocolate before heading out to see the city before sunset.

So I’ve never been to Venice before. After Florence, Venice is one of my favourite cities in Italy. Perhaps I’m biased because I got to spend two really lovely days there with my boyfriend but I don’t really care The colours in Venice are just … something else. I mean, in everything. The buildings, the water, the sky, the art - it all looks like it was painted with a darker and more vibrant colour than anywhere else.

The thing about Venice is that it’s packed to the tits with tourists. My Rough Guide says that Venice’s population is shrinking each year and tourists outnumber the actual citizens 5 to 1. That’s insane, but I can very well believe it. I have never seen so many bloody tourists in one small city. Enough talk, though. More pictures!!

Did I mention how much I love the architecture in Venice? Everything is just packed right into everything else and right onto the canals. You can’t really go too far before hitting a canal.

This was in the display window of an art gallery specializing in reproductions of famous abstract art. The sculpture is by Salvador Dali, although I can’t remember what it’s called!

San Marco’s Square near sunset. We eventually found ourselves here after wandering around for quite a bit. We took a really shitty map with us - not the one I bought - so we didn’t really have much of a sense of direction. We eventually made our way home, though!

The second photo we took while the woman wasn’t looking. I posed in front of the camera so it wouldn’t look like Gord was taking a picture of some random chick, when in actuality that’s what we were doing! It’s a shame the third picture didn’t turn out better than it did cause it was an amazing photo. That cat was just sitting on the window sill, watching the world pass it by as it sat there. I made Gord take the picture and I tried to call it back when it started to leave, but alas .. it didn’t speak English!

We wrapped our first night in Venice with some cheap pizza at a place called “Pizza & Ice Cream” (we learned that the following day when we went again for pizza!). I can’t explain how nice it was to be with someone you know and speak in English. There were days when I’d go for hours without saying a word because I had no one to talk to. That isn’t to say that when I did meet people I was shy - on the contrary, I tended to talk their ears off!

The next morning we awoke late. We managed to get out of our hotel room once the cleaning ladies began knocking on the door. Breakfast consisted of yummy, yummy Fanta and a panini on a dock that was basically a set of steps leading into the canal. It was really cool to just sit there as the tourists passed by.

The second and third photos are mosaics on the front of San Marco’s. Directly below them stood about fifty people waiting in line to get inside. We crossed that bridge to get to the art musuem. We wanted to see the top three things in Venice - the art museum, San Marco’s and the Palazzo which is the home of the Doge. Since San Marco’s was packed by the time we reached it, we headed for the art museum, the Accademia. When we found it it was nearly empty (well, a lot less packed than San Marco’s) and blissfully air conditioned! The day was hot. Really hot. So being out of the sun was a welcome reprieve. Gord and I spent an hour or so gazing at Venetian paintings and making comments on some of the expressions on the faces of the portraits. It was highly amusing.

Before we found the Accademia gallery, though, we found a free exhibit of old instruments so we went inside. There were signs everywhere for a concert taking place that night and since Gord and I were feeling adventurous, we decided to buy tickets. The concert was held in an actual church. I’ll write more about that when I get there, though

After spending a chilly hour in the Accademia we sauntered back to San Marco’s square. Although it was slightly cooler than earlier in the day it wasn’t much cooler. We decided we would still go into San Marco’s but not until we had a coffee at Caffe Florian which is the oldest cafe in all of Venice. It dates back to 18th century and has served such distinguished customers as Henry James and Lord Byron! I really wanted to have a coffee on the terrace so we found a cozy spot right beneath one of the arches.

The little old lady in the first picture behind me sat there the whole time we were there, which must have been about a half hour. She was clearly by herself and we really felt bad for her cause she sat there with that exact expression on her face the entire time. She held a napkin in her hands and kept shredding the thing. It was really sad The coffee, though, was quite good! The waiter appeared quite briskly wearing an ivory white dress coat and tuxedo pants. The menus had lots of yummy things but it was all over ten euros. I ordered a simple cafe late which cost me seven euros and Gord ordered a chocolate coffee (I can’t remember the name anymore!) which cost ten euros! We marvelled at the complete tea service which cost about fifty euros and wondered who would order something so extravagant. Not too long after we received our coffees a wealthy family sat near us and proceeded to order the very same tea service we were gawking at. We were totally gobsmacked! Not only was it fifty euros but it barely had any sandwiches on it. I suppose if we were really looking for a Venician experience we would have done the tea service too, but I’m poor, so I can’t!

We also met a Japanese couple who sat directly across from us. They were this cute little couple who spoke very little English. Gord thought commented that it must have been doubly hard for a non-English speaking person to travel to a country where English is *not* the first language, though it’s wellknown. I don’t know if that sentence came out right but I hope you understand what it means

After Florian’s we headed off to stand in line at San Marco’s.

The lines were still long. We figured, though, since we were here we may as well brave the lines. Gord took off while I waited in line to put our daypack in storage since we weren’t allowed to take it into the basilica. While I waited there I stood beside an American man who was waiting for his family to reach him as well. I happened to strike up a conversation wtih him which proceeded nicely up until he literally walked oof while I was in mid-sentence. He didn’t even acknowledge that he was done listening. He was just gone. I was completely stunned at his rudeness and a little miffed by the time Gord got back. It didn’t help matters that I was standing with a gaggle of teenage Latinos right behind me. They didn’t have the sense to put their bags in storage and we had to wait while they left the line - when we got to the front - to go put them away.

Once inside, though, I felt a lot better. It was cool inside the basilica and we let the crowds walk past us so we could breathe a little better. It’s hard, sometimes, to be around so many other people. I’m by no means a claustrophobe and I don’t have social anxiety disorder but at times I wanted to yell at a few people to get the hell out of my way. I suppose that’s what it must feel like to live in Venice where the tourism seems to never stop. No wonder the population grows smaller every year!

The basilica was pretty but by no means the best that I have seen. Perhaps I’m a bit of a snob after St. Peter’s. I should be nicer, though, since it’s a great place to see a lot of Byzantine art. Many things located at San Marco’s were pillaged from Constantinople after the fall of the Byzantine empire. Unfortunately we weren’t allowed to take any pictures inside the basilica but we did manage to sneak one:

Yep. I was buying postcards to send home and Gord took out the camera and we snapped this quickly. It was pure genius, really. I love the way it turned out too. This is one of the few pictures where my nose doesn’t look like it’s been burnt to an absolute crisp :X

After San Marco’s we headed over to the “Pizza and Ice Cream” parlour and had ourselves some cheapie slices again. They were soooo damn good, though! I’m never gonna have pizza without feta cheese again. I swear to God, it was the best thing on the face of the earth! After dinner we rushed back to our hotel to get changed for the concert (symphony?). We wanted to go for a gondola ride that night but each place we asked wanted waaaay too much money. We were quoted 100 euros for thirty minutes by one gondolier. We didn’t have that much time, anyway, so we decided to sit down at a cafe with some Prosecco, the sparkling wine Venice is known for. Since I only had a slice of pizza for dinner the wine went straight to my head and I was nice and buzzed as we walked into the church.

The concert was absolutely magnificent. Perhaps it was the Prosecco but I literally began to weep as the first notes began. I have never heard Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” played live before and the experience will never fade from my memory. From the lovely young man who offered us his seats when we sat down at the side of the church, to the prodigy cellist who played the entire concert without a single music sheet in front of him, to the contrabassist (is that what he was, Gord?) who indicated my sunglasses had fallen when I stood to give him and his fellow musicians an ovation. It was absolutely beautiful.

After the concert I was elated and full of energy. I certainly didn’t want to go to bed just yet so as we walked back in the direction of our hotel we looked for a place to have a glass of wine. The streets were nearly completely empty and I welcomed the reprieve from the tourists. I wished that somehow we could have experienced the same thing during the day, but sadly, only at night do the rubes go home :/ Still, walking along the streets and not getting jostled by other people was really nice. We made it to the piazza where our hotel was located but didn’t find a restaurant where we could have a glass of wine. The bar directly below our hotel, though, was open so we snagged the last table at the patio and ordered two pints. I didn’t know if you could order wine at the bar (since everyone was drinking beer around us) but we later found out that you could. A group of American teenagers came through around the time we were ready to go to bed and they bought bottles (yes, bottles) of wine and drank outside in front of the barfront. It was highly amusing.

But yes, we proceeded to get totally smashed. It was great cause up until that point I had barely had a glass of wine and I was dying for a little alcohol. Eventually, we got adventurous and Gord set out for a pack of cigarettes. We smoked Camels and drank Kilkenny until around one in the morning. Or maybe later, I can’t remember! The details are a little fuzzy!

We left the next morning for Milan but not before finding ourselves a gondola! We bought our train tickets and with the last 75 euros we bought ourselves a 30 minute gondola ride.

It was a really interesting experience. We were nice and cozy sitting on this plush chair near the rear of the boat while the gondolier stood behind us. He took us along the smaller canals where there were less boats and we saw some really nice parts of Venice. The streets were nearly empty too. Since it was near midday at that point I knew that he must have taken us away from the normal tourist traps and I wished that I had gotten a chance to see that part of Venice before we left. It was interesting because we soon found ourselves a bit of a spectacle. Some tourists took photos of us as we passed them beneath a bridge. We got a picture of them taking a picture of us

After the gondola ride we went and waited for our train to Milan. I was still exhausted from our late night so when we boarded the train I soon fell asleep. Not until we stopped in a train station where we were horrified to see directly across from us a team of paramedics working on something beneath the wheels of a train. I was reading my book at the time and tried to keep from looking but I couldn’t stop myself. I was literally staring at a train wreck. I assume it was a suicide, but of course I can’t be sure. It’s not like I could ask anyone! After that startling scene I fell asleep. I didn’t wake up until we reached Milan.

My God, this is taking me forever, isn’t it? I apologize. I tried to write up the whole thing today but I’m running short on time and I’ve still got six more days to go through. Maybe I’m just being too longwinded? I can’t really be sorry, though, because this is as much for my sake as it is for your’s. Probably more mine than yours since I want to keep this so I remember it while you’re just reading up on my journey

Anyway! I’ll continue soon. Thanks for reading if you’ve reached this far.

Slowly but surely, my update of my trip continues. This is mainly spurred by Mary who kept poking me last night to finish up my story So I dedicate this to her!

I left of on my second day in Rome. The following day was Monday and my plan was to go visit St. Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican Museums, which I knew would take me all friggin’ day since the line-ups are monsterous in proportion.

I walked along the Tiber River to get to the correct ponte I needed to get to the other side of the city. It was a lot longer than I expected but because I was in the shade I wasn’t too upset by it. I left close to around 10 that morning, having slept in by accident, so it was already boiling by the time I left that morning. I regret not taking any pictures on my way there because the view was something else. Plus, I passed the Jewish ghetto on my way where the largest synagogue in Rome stands. I wanted to go inside but my Rough Guide said that only guided tours are offered and there wasn’t anyone there to offer me a guided tour!

My first glimpse of St. Peter’s Basilica was on the Via della Conciliazione which is this wide boulevard lined with large, sorta blah looking buildings. It was built during Mussolini’s reign and is very characteristic of the rest of his fascist architecture which, in a word, is just blah. Not really that interesting. I’m certain there was a reason for the style, but I can’t remember it at the moment.

In any event, I could see the throngs of people already by the time I was halfway up the via but I wasn’t perturbed by it. After all, I wasn’t going to not explore just because there was 500,000 other people there. Trying to fit all of St. Peter’s into a photo is harrrrrd, though.

My attempt at the front of St. Peter’s.

This one’s my favourite.

Pope … er, I can’t remember. His body was about ten feet away, though, behind a glass partition. He was mummified!

A mourning angel!

One of the angels attached to a basin filled with holy water. It’s Gigantic. Don’t believe me?

That’s what they look like compared to human beings. (I was standing across the nave.)

The dome of St. Peter’s from the courtyard of the Vatican Museums.

After paying my respects in St. Peter’s (and getting jostled by the other half million people who were inside the church) I braved the lines for the Vatican Museum. Stupidly I decided to wait until after going to the museum to have lunch. I got into line around 1pm and I didn’t leave the museum until well after 4. I was famished by the time I left. But that didn’t stop me from enjoying all of the fabulous artwork and rooms!

Laocoon from the side. There was like 30 people standing there looking at the statue.

Cleopatra and her weapon of choice.

Someone crazy decided to stick artificial eyes into this statue. The result is incredibly creepy.

My favourite paint - the School of Athens in the Stanza della Signatura. There’s obviously more to the mural but the thing is huge.

This is just one half of one of the corridors. This is actually the Room of Maps. You can’t really see the maps painted onto the walls but that’s what it the ceilings look like in a good portion of these rooms.

That trip rounded up my third day in Rome. I wasn’t pleased that I didn’t get to see more of Rome that day because of the Vatican but I was so pooped that I couldn’t do much else other than go home and rest.

The following day I decided to go into the Colosseum and explore. I was accosted by some lady looking to get people to join a tour group and I was mightily tempted by the prospect of no lineups. I knew that if I went to Palatine Hill first that I could get into the Colosseum without waiting in line also since I had a ticket already but I didn’t actually know where the entrance to Palatine Hill was so I opted to go with the tour group for a few extra euros.

On my way to the Colosseum I snapped a few pics at the Wedding Cake - the war monument that is entirely covered in marble. It’s humongous.

Woo!

View from the top of the colosseum.

Afterwards I went to Palatine Hill with this rather amusing tour guide. He was quite cute as well so I was a happy little camper. For some strange reason I only took one photo at Palatine Hill (mostly cause it was lots of hills with ruins and not a whole lot else) and didn’t upload it. Sorry! I did get a few photos from Palatine Hill looking down into the Roman forum though!

The Colosseum from the outside!

The Colosseum from the inside!

Me two days before in front of the Triumphal arch (can’t remember the name). The cobblestones in front of it were a bitch to cross, though!

The Roman forum! That white church held a wedding two days before!

Me in the Colosseum. I wore that shirt all day and caught an awful sunburn because of it. Never. Again.

After Palatine Hill I got some lunch (wished I brought a lunch to eat at Palatine Hill!) and then caught a tour of the catacombs (via the Appian Way!) and the Jewish Ghetto.

Michelangelo’s Moses. He gave Moses horns!

The front of Moses. You can’t really tell but Michelangelo struck at Moses’ knee with a carving tool while working on the statue demanding to know why the marble did not speak to him. He was in awe at how life-life he had made the statue.

A memento mori in the Church of St. Peter in Chains where Moses resides.

After the tour, I wandered around Rome until it began to get dark. I was sad that it was my last day in Roma but I was also beyond thrilled about seeing Gord the next day in Venice. I was utterly devestated to find myself with a total burn from walking around all day in the hot sun with no sunscreen but I could only blame myself. I bought aloe vera and hoped for the best. I also bought a train ticket to Venice that night for the eight am train the next morning. It’d be a long ride but I would get there early enough to enjoy most of the day with my boyfriend

On that note, I’m going to stop, again. I’m sorry but I don’t have pictures on my computer of Venice or Milano. Gord took most of the pictures on those days so I need to get them off him.

I hope you’re enjoying this!

I’m going to attempt the impossible and write about all four days in Rome at once. I’ve uploaded the pictures to photobucket already so it may not be as hard as I think it will. Regardless, I may end up splitting this post in half

I arrived in Rome around midday and found my hostel with no real issue. I nearly passed by it, though, because it’s located inside of an apartment building. The only indication that it exists was a small plaque on the side of the building and an intercom. The hotel owner, after checking me in, gave me a map of Rome and highlighted all the main roads and attractions. That map was amazing. I found everything I needed on it and more. I wish more places did that.

Truthfully, this was my favourite hostel. Although I shared a room with this yappy American couple (they woke up me up one night because they were fighting) I really loved the place. The people were really friendly, especially the afternoon girl who I got to know quite well, and the place was quite cozy. Plus, they had a pair of dogs that stayed at the hotel the whole time. They were adorable.

My first order of business, after checking in, was to go do some site-seeing. I made my way down to the Via Corso where I saw this shirt in the window. I wanted to go back and get it for Gord (so he can be my very own Jake Gyllenhaal but of course I didn’t end up doing that *Sigh* Ah well.

Before I hit the Via, though, I managed to stumble upon my first site: the Trevi Fountain!

It was surrounded by tourists and just brimming with noise, exactly like I remembered it the last time. The square is barely big enough to fit both the fountain, the storefronts and the droves of people that were milling around. Directly across from the fountain was also a very baroque church which I forgot to snap a picture of, unfortunately. I bought a gelato and sat down on a bench by the Trevi. It was hot that day and I was wearing my jeans. That was a huge mistake.

After I finished my gelato I took the Via Corso all the way down to the Piazza del Popolo where I found a water fountain to fill up my water supply and admire the two matching churches of Santa Maria:

Unfortunately, I got really lost after that point. I wasn’t really looking at my map and I was content with walking around. Eventually I found my way back again and decided to stop for dinner near my hostel before calling it an early night.

The next day was Sunday. I had hoped to visit the Vatican and St. Peter’s that day but since it was closed on Sundays I had to think of soemthing else. It didn’t even occur to me that I could have gone to mass at St. Peter’s that day but I went to mass elsewhere anyway - the Pantheon!

I decided to find the Pantheon first since it was on my list of things to revisit. When I found it I could hear singing coming from inside. As I pushed past the throng of tourists I saw that most of the church was roped off for Sunday mass. There was an opening in the ropes, though, and I slipped past to sit down. I wasn’t going to take pictures during mass so I figured I might as well have a seat and enjoy it. Of course, I couldn’t understand a word the priest was saying but I enjoyed it nonetheless. It’s not everyday that you get to go to mass in the Roman Catholic capital of the world!

When mass ended I snuck over to a roped off part of the Pantheon to take a look at the tomb of Raphael (yes, the Raphael) and quickly continued on my way. The day was slightly overcast which made it a bit depressing walking around the city. Not to mention the fact that almost all of the streets were empty (people were either in church or sleeping in!). Still, I managed to snap some pictures as I was walking around, searching for something else that was open.

The view of the piazza from the doors of the Pantheon, after mass.

A doorknocker on a huge palazzo I passed by. It’s Madusa!

They’ll put churches anywhere in this city.

St. Peter’s from across the city. That was how dark it was outside that morning.

After the mass I settled on hauling my cookies across town to Castel Sant’Angelo, which is the Pope’s “secret” hiding spot when danger come’s a’knocking to St. Peter’s. Originally it was a huge burial tomb for the Emperor Hadrian but his ashes were dumped elsewhere and the building became a papal residence.

Me trying to take a picture of myself inside the Castel’s many windows.

An eerie bust inside an alcove in the Castel.

The castel from the ponte. The weather (obviously) cleared up by the time I was outside again.

The Ponte Sant’Angelo from which I took the previous picture from. The statues were designed by Bernini.

I was really happy I went to the Castel that day because when I went to St. Peter’s the next day, I found that the Castel (from the same ponte) was obstructed by a huge canary yellow crane. I was able to get pretty pictures of it the day before

I headed back towards the centre of town to walk around the old Roman ruins. I somehow managed to get lost on the way there (me and my not looking at a map again, I tell ya!) so I decided to climb these insanely long steps to the top of a hill - Capitoline Hill, apparently! I wanted to visit the museums but I needed to go back to my hostel first. I had spilt grease all over my shorts because I’m a clumsy oaf. When I returned the museums were closing in an hour. An hour for two museums isn’t enough; especially the way I visit museums. So I resigned myself to simply walking around the area.

The main street leading up to the Colosseum was closed to cars and public transit that day (being a Sunday) so it was more of a path. I thought it was really neat that it gets closed every Sunday. I took lots of pictures of the area, but I didn’t seem to upload any to photobucket. I might add some later

I think I’m gonna stop here. I’ve got two more days to talk about but this entry is getting crazy long.

Writing out my journey is gonna get tough, I can already tell. I seem to write way more than I need to but I can’t help it at all, it seems.

My second day in Florence I went down to the Duomo as the doors were opening. I was second in line waiting to go inside so the cathedral was entirely empty as I went inside. I took a few photos before the crowds began to amass and then sat down with my journal. Writing in the Duomo was something else entirely. Like I said before, I don’t think I’ll ever want to travel in a tour group ever again because the experience is just so stunted. You’re pushed from point A to point B by some man or woman who rattles off facts in your ear that you can easily just get from a guide book and then pushed onwards. You don’t get to experience a place on your own terms. I sat on a bench in the Duomo for a good thirty minutes or so, just writing down my activities of the day before, while people watching. I especially enjoyed watching people light tea candles in the center of the nave. There was barely a candle left to be lit by the time I was ready to leave.

I went down beneath the Duomo and took a look at what was left of the previous church that existed in the Duomo’s place. There were quite a few reliquaries left behind and I snapped a few pictures of them, although the lighting wasn’t that great.

Dante Alighieri outside the entrance to Hell

The Duomo’s interior dome

Me beneath the Duomo in an alcove

I went to the Baptistery in the afternoon following lunch. I had never been inside of it before and the outside did not prepare me for what was on the inside. Comprised of one room, the Baptistery’s ceiling is entirely made of gold mosaic.

That picture is only a portion of the ceiling. As you can imagine, it’s hard to get the whole thing into the picture. The whole place shone beneath the golden roof. It was quite beautiful.

I passed by another church later that afternoon as I was walking around the streets. It was San Lorenzo, a church dedicated to Lorenzo de Medici, the ‘padre patri’ of Florence - the patron father. It was immense and quite ornate although I wasn’t allowed to take pictures inside of it. Inside I found the tomb of Donatello. It was quite eerie to be so near to a great artist, though long dead.

By the time I was done at San Lorenzo I was totally knackered. I went back to the hostel and spent the rest of the evening reading.

The next morning I set off for the Bargello Museum where I saw way too many bronze statues. The work of Giambologna was being showcased, specifically. The man was a master of the bronze table statue. In the more quieter parts of the museum I took a few photos.

A child’s suit of armour.

From there I went to the Piazza della Signoria where I took some of my favourite pictures:

Don’t get your panties in a knot, it’s only a replica

David slaying the Goliath

After I hung around the piazza for sometime I headed over to Santa Croce to pay my respects to some of the most famous Italians in the world: Dante Alighieri (only a cenotaph; he was exiled and buried in Ravenna), Michelangelo Buonarroti, Nicholas Machiavelli and Galileo Galilei. Some of the tombs were extremely intricate and magnificent in honour of the reputation of the body:

Michelangelo’s tomb

The basilica was gorgeous itself but heavily scaffolded (what else is new :/).

As I walked out of the basilica I decided that today being my last day in Florence I would finally go over to the “other side” - across the Ponte Vecchio. I wasn’t sure what I would do on the other side, but I wasn’t too worried. I knew something would inspire me.

“Something” came in the form of a garden - the gardens of the Palazzo Pitti. The gardens were absolutely gorgeous and I felt like a little princess running through the beautiful paths. Alright, I didn’t run but I did walk around quite a bit.

Isn’t it beautiful?

The main path

My sexy ass!

Bright green pond. I wanted to dunk right into it.

Bacchus!!

I only regret not bringing water with me when I went to the gardens. I was dying of thirst by the time I climbed up to the summit but I stuck it through. I stayed for about an hour, lounging in the mid-afternoon sun. It was absolute heaven, I tell you. Reprieve came, though, when I found a water fountain on the way down to the exit. I must have drank about two litres of water from it and it was gooooood water. I tell you, Italy had some good water fountains. They weren’t great but Florence and Rome had particularly good fountains.

That night I decided - since this was my last night in Florence - to go out and have a fancy-schmancy dinnner at a ristorante. I found one close to my hotel and ordered the standard two courses. Both I took as suggestions from the waiter. The first was an artichoke pasta which was absolutely delicious but the second was … well, spinach and calimari. I tried my hardest to choke it down but I couldn’t. I ended up leaving quite embarassed over my faux pas and took the long way around to find some gelato to drown my wounded pride in. Along the way I happened to run into Mr. Sleazeball that took a fancy to me the first day I arrived in Florence and nearly ran the other way as we made eye contact. It wasn’t a good night but I was slightly happier when I got my gelato.

Thus ended my time in Florence. I passed through the city twice more on my way to other places but I wasn’t able to stick around and see any of the sights again. The next morning after my ill-fated dinner I hopped onto a train bound for Roma.

I awoke the next morning bright and early. That night I had decided to leave Pisa early - without seeing the sights - and head straight for Florence. That way I could get a full three days of Florence and I’d see Pisa on the way back. Besides, I had to check out in the morning and lugging my backpacks across town to see the leaning tower didn’t really appeal to me all that much. Better to save it for last.

My first train ride in Italy was memorable if only because I nearly missed the bloody train. I must have not looked at the platform number right because the train pulled up to the next platform over. I took a chance and asked someone whether the train was going to Florence with a shy “Firenze?” and they nodded so I clambered aboard. When I finally arrived in Florence I was quite happy. I ended up convincing myself that someone was playing a mean joke on me and I had in fact hopped onto a train heading in the exact opposite direction.

The train station was supposedly only a hop, skip and a jump away from the hostel but it took me the better part of an hour trying to find the place. I first went in the opposite direction of the actual street I was looking for and I had to fish out my Giant Guide Book to find my way. When I finally found the street I, of course, went in the opposite direction again of where I was supposed to go. I ended up walking over two blocks before the street name changed and I had to find my way back again. Eventually, though, I found the bloody thing. It was literally two seconds away from the train station. I was not impressed having spent fory-five minutes with a ten kilo backpack trudging through the thirty degree heat.

I dumped my backpack after checking in and set off to look for stuff. Not ten minutes after I began walking was I accosted by a strange Italian man who wanted to take me somewhere. It was quite unnerving how bold he was and I walked a hell of a lot faster after shaking him off. It wouldn’t be the last time I’d see him, though. I had my guidebook with me but I wasn’t carrying it around. I was quite content with just walking the streets until I hit something familiar and it wasn’t long before I did that. As I tried to shake off the amorous Italian I stumbled upon the piazza where my hotel was the first time I was in Florence! It was still there - the Hotel Universo - and everything was literally the same as it was three years ago. The church that dominated the piazza, though, was covered in scaffolding, which isn’t a surprise. You’re lucky to find anything over a century old without scaffolding.

I sat down in the piazza to familiarize myself with the area and enjoy the sun for a bit. It was lovely to be back in the spot where my first love of Florence began.

I wanted to find the Duomo so I could start taking pictures but it was a little bit hard at first. Although I kept seeing glimpses of it over the roofs it seemed to evade me constantly. Finally I came upon a street that looked quite familiar. It was large and I could see a piazza ahead of me so I headed towards it. This is what I saw:

I had found it! I joined the throngs of picture takers and snapped some of my own

The sky was this gorgeous fierce blue - I believe it’s a Tuscan blue - the entire time I was there. It was hot but boy was it gorgeous!

After enjoying myself at the Duomo for quite some time I headed off in the direction of the Ponte Vecchio (really old bridge) to find the shop where I wanted to buy a journal. I’ve been dreaming of buying myself a journal ever since I left Italy. It was my one regret and I’ve totally rectified it. I found a shop called Signum that sold stationary, notebooks and all sorts of tourist-y things. I went in and looked around and finally found one I was happy with but I faltered! Can you believe that? I debated over whether I wanted to buy the journal I’d been wanting for three fricking years! I left the shop totally unsure and walked further. I found the Ponte and the Uffizi which I was going to visit later that afternoon. Having plenty of time to spare before my visit to the art gallery I kept walking around, enjoying not being in one of those awful tour groups. I was very conscious over how frustrating they were to get through. No wonder everyone hates a tourist. Tourists often come in groups of thirty or more!

As I was walking around I found the shop again - Signum. This time I went in and I picked up the journal. I headed straight for the cashier and bought it. I left no time to think about making this purchase because I knew if I left Florence without it I would hate myself. It’s a gorgeous brown leather journal with the trillium crest of Florence embossed on the cover. It’s quite pretty and I can’t wait to fill it’s pages with my thoughts. I did my best trying to record my entire trip in it but sadly, I couldn’t finish it. I will eventually but it’s still going to take some time. I stopped writing when I reached Milan, I think.

Once I bought my journal I itched to write something down so I found a gellateria and ordered some gelato. It was hot as sin outside so a gelato was just perfect. I sat right at the entrance of the Ponte Vecchio watching people cross the bridge, avoid the speeding motorbikes and the pestering street vendors.

The Ponte Vecchio

I went to the Uffizi Gallery that afternoon. I was really glad I reserved myself a ticket to the gallery because the line to the entrance was gigantic. All I had to do was pick up my reserved ticket and head inside. Inside, though, it was packed. It’s a shame that these places are so popular because the experience is almost ruined when you need to fight through a throng of tourists in order to get a glimpse of some of the art. I know that’s an awful thing to say - why can’t they shut the museums down for me?! - but I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who felt a little crowded. Either way, I still got to see the Birth of Venus by Botticelli, Piero della Francesca’s portraits of the Duke of Urbino and his wife, which I loved, loved, loved. Also there was an exhibit of Leonardo da Vinci’s drawings and writings including this self-portrait which I was stunned to see. It’s quite remarkable to see in person. I’ve never seen the Mona Lisa but his artwork on paper alone is exquisite.

I walked home after the Uffizi gallery having spent about four hours in there, scouring the rooms. When I came back to the hostel I simply crashed around 9 and slept until morning. I was exhausted from the entire day.

In case you’re wondering, I’m home. I didn’t die on my trip nor did I get mugged nor did I lose anything (apart from my way a few billion times). It was a wonderful experience and I’m better for it now that I’ve taken it. Not only have I now travelled as far as Europe alone, I’ve seen some really awesome things, met quite a few interesting people and brought back about an assload (yes, an entire assload) of pictures back. Until I can set up a seperate page on this website for it, I’m going to type up my account of my trip through a series of entries. I say a series because it was sixteen bloody days! It’ll be a huge entry if I attempt to fit it all into one. So I’ll give you small doses coupled with the photographs. I make no promises of my photogenic genius, but I have to admit it’s hard sometimes to take a bad photo in Italy. Things are just so damn pretty!

So let’s begin with Day One: The Day I Left
I left on June 5 in the afternoon. My father took me to the airport where he was an absolute sweetheart and bought me a hundred extra euros to take with me. I hadn’t thought of taking actual euros because a) I’m an idiot and b) I don’t think farther than five minutes ahead. I had the British pound sterling I would need to haul my cookies around London for the eight hours I’d be in England before catching my connecting flight but I had no cash to pay for a cab once I landed in Pisa. My father graciously took care of that.

We said our goodbyes after having a final slice of airport pizza (the very irony of that dinner was totally lost on me at the time. I was just hungry and needed food!). The flight to England was average - cramped seats, dismal supper and horrendous inflight movies. I arrived in Gatwick airport and found myself a bus that would take me to Stansted airport which is on the other side of London. I was goggle-eyed over being in England since I had never set foot Her Majesty’s Kingdom (Queendom?). Everywhere I looked there were people speaking Proper English, speed bumps were called humps and they really were driving on the opposite sides of the road!

Despite the fact that I wanted to absorb everything London (or rather, London’s outer boroughs cause I only fleetingly passed through the city proper) had to offer but alas, I was exhausted from the flight. Despite the fact that I slept for a few hours I nodded off on the bus, although, not until after taking this sexy photo of myself:

Oh, I can hear you cringeing! Yeah well, you try taking a nice photo of yourself after being in transit for over seven hours! I arrived at Stansted airport, which looked more like a bus depot than an airport, midafternoon and had some lunch. My flight wasn’t until 8pm so I had a lot of waiting to do. The airport had a grassy knoll right by the bus stops so I sat out there and read my book for a couple of hours before becoming unbearably bored. Exploring the airport was the best option and I soon discovered why there are so many shops in airports. There’s absolutely nothing to do in an airport except eat, drink and shop. I bought another book since the one I had brought with me was nearly done and sat out the rest of the hours until I could actually check in.

I took Ryanair from London to Pisa and for cheapass seats the flight was … not the worst. There were no assigned seat numbers, you just sat anywhere and the seats didn’t recline. At that point, though, I could have been sitting on Satan’s lap, I really didn’t care all that much. I was exhausted and I spent the entire hour and a half flight asleep. I barely remember taking off or landing but somehow I ended up in Pisa by the end of the flight.

It was late when we arrived, close to midnight. The airport in Pisa was even smaller than Stansted but I suppose it got the job done. Being the scared little girl that I am, I opted to take a taxi the two or so kilometers into the city to my hotel. Pisa doesn’t have any hostels that aren’t either outside the city or camping grounds so I was left with the option to sleep in the airport (haha, yeah right) or find my ass a hotel. I chose to find a hotel room.

When I arrived at the hotel I found that I had booked a room for the night before. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am a royal idiot. Luckily he had a room available still, though. Not fifteen minutes after my arrival in my hotel room did I get a phone call. I was bewildered as to who would be calling me, in Pisa, after midnight.

It was my mother.

That woman can find me in the middle of Africa, I think. Granted, I gave her the number to the hotel, but I didn’t actually expect her to phone at my arrival! That’s just craziness! It was really comforting to hear her voice though. Arriving in Italy was incredibly stressful for me cause everything seemed to be a hurdle to leap over: going through customs with my shiny Canadian passport, finding a taxi, checking into my first hotel, using a European bathroom for the first time in three years (:P). Knowing my mom was looking out for me, a continent away, made things a little easier. After all, I had no time to be homesick, I was in Italy!