Ciao Bella: Chris in Italia

This weekend, I traveled with a grotesquely-filled backpack and a still-unquenched desire to see Italy, the last major destination of my travels. I tried to get a couple of other people to go with me, but alas, they couldn’t come. But no matter: I went alone.


Wednesday, 4/9

I left on Wednesday morning, so I had to skip my three Wednesday classes. Whatever dude. I used the class cuts to use, and I wasn’t nursing a hangover, I was going to Italy. My decision was justified.

I was on the same flight as Kevin, Brian and Greg (who were also traveling to Italy that weekend), so we took the same cab to Weeze airport. The flight was to an airport outside of Milan, and we took a shuttle to Milano Centrale, Milan’s main train station, not the hub of Pepperidge Farm cookie production.

Milano Centrale was the most confusing place in the universe, and my difficulty in deciphering the signs and geography of the station was coupled by a complete lack of anyone who was willing to answer questions with any level of specificity. I asked the information desk where I could make a reservation for a seat, and they said “downstairs.” This building is the size of Rowley. Could you narrow it down any?

I missed my train on account of not being able to find it on the departure board and nearly being swallowed by a crowd of rush-houring Italians. I switched my reservation and got on my train. Our flight to Milan took less than two hours, but my train ride from Milan to Rome took four and a half. I didn’t get into Rome until 10 p.m. Not funny, Italy. Not funny.

Also not funny is that the Rome metro closes at 10 p.m. The directions to my hostel--a camping village on the outer reaches of the city--told me to take the metro. Well, I would, hostel directions, but the metro’s closed! At 10 p.m.!

I left Rome’s main train station and approached a bus to ask how to get to line 246, the bus that would take me to my hostel. Thankfully, my guardian angel--a 55-year-old Italian man with well-groomed facial hair, a tan blazer and an issue of Vanity Fair Italia--saved me from certain disorientation. The way to bus 246 was on his way home, which was very fortunate for me. He spoke English well enough to understand how infinitely thankful I was for his help. I got to my hostel around midnight and promptly passed out.


Thursday, 4/10

I fell asleep around midnight, so I was able to get up and at ‘em pretty early, which was nice. I decided I would take on the Vatican first. Saint Peter’s Cathedral is so large, so vast, it seemed one could fit Sacre-Coeur or any other church I’ve seen inside of it. I went to a mass in one of the chapels (although the level of my participation in the Italian-language service was limited) and strolled around inside the cathedral, looking at the art and architecture. Wow.

When I left San Pietro, I noticed there were a large amount of people heading for a building down on the side of the cathedral. It was the Papal crypt, where Popes are buried and memorialized. John Paul II’s mausoleum is white and plainly decorated, and bright. I was really glad I got to see that.

I decided I didn’t want to wait through the endless lines and pay the 8 Euro ($13) to get into the Vatican Museums, at the end of which is the Sistine Chapel. Maybe if there were other people with me, I would have been more excited about it, but I just didn’t have it in me.

Rome only has two metro lines, and its bus lines are winding and poorly marked. I would have just walked around Rome (and I tried), but the city is just too expansive. I wanted to go a specific neighborhood for lunch, but I couldn’t manage to figure out the buses (and I rode quite a few of them) before hunger overtook me. There are a lot of small shops that sell pizza by weight, which can get you some reasonable deals for a quick lunch. I had zucchini (which was a white pizza) and margarita. The fungi (mushroom) pizza I had on Friday was much better, though. I spent a lot of my afternoon walking around, not quite sure where I was, slightly frustrated but still enjoying the atmosphere. And eating gelato.

The Coliseum is as cool as you think it would be, and also surprisingly integrated into the city; there were roads and buildings all around it. There was also a political rally-concert going on on the lawn right next to the Coliseum, pumping up supporters for conservative Silvio Berlusconi, whose party was victorious in the April 13-14 parliamentary elections. It was really cool to see the election placards all over the city. There are 10 or so political parties (that I could observe), so all the political advertising and imagery was really interesting to look at.

I went and saw the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain. They were cool and there were a lot of people looking at them.

I had a great, mid-range dinner at a place recommended in my travel guide. I had insalate with lettuce, tomato, tuna, olives, and mozzarella. I got free bread and water, too. There was a huge pack of kids from Notre Dame (Michigan) University there. They were quite wine drunk. The owner was a really personable Italian guy, and he gave me a dessert of sugared strawberries and a glass of port to top it all off. All this for 7 Euro! It was a really great dinner. It would have been very depressing to have left Rome without a nice meal at a place like this. I got gelato again (don’t judge me) and headed back to my hostel, which was an adventure in itself.


Friday, 4/11

When I rode the bus this morning, I was the most crowded I’ve ever been in my life. Some French idiots decided it was a good idea to jump onto the already too-full bus, which then made the bus so full its doors couldn’t open to let anyone in or out! Yes! I forced my way through the doors (it took all my weight and effort to get the door open) and went to an outdoor market. It was raining--and it was raining for about half the time I was in Italy--and the market had awnings overhead, so I was protected from the rain. I bought an apple, a pastry and 1 Euro Italian toothpaste (I needed some).

I sent a postcard at the post office in Rome Termini (the city’s central train station), and walked north of the station. I didn’t want to do any more sightseeing, even though there was a lot more to see. Whatever, dude. I just wanted to walk, so that’s what I did.

On Thursday, I had instant messaged my friend Britt, after seeing she was planning to go to Rome and Florence this weekend! Britt goes to Emerson and is currently doing a semester in Greece. This was such a cool coincidence, and a very welcome one, at that. Having been alone since Wednesday, I was starting to go slightly crazy. I was thankful to meet with Britt for my journey to Florence.

Well, that journey didn’t go so well. We got on a train and went past Florence (the train didn’t stop at Florence’s main station like we had expected), got on another train that we thought was taking us back towards Florence but was really taking us further away and then waited on a platform in some deserted station until a train finally came to take us back to Florence (but for real this time). We got to the city around 11. We felt pretty dumb. I went to find my hostel, which was about a 15-minute walk from the station (Florence is very small and very walkable). This walk was prolonged by pouring rain. Hooray! Upon arriving at my hostel, I slept.


Saturday, 4/12

It was difficult to get up this morning. But after mustering up the will, I did. I went and got a pastry (a butter cookie with nutella in the middle) for breakfast and explored the city. I saw the Ponte Vecchio (old bridge) and proceeded with my unscientific but tried and true method of seeing a city: walking around. I had pappa al pomodoro for lunch. It’s a tuscan Tomato stewy soup (or soupy stew) made with garlic, olive oil, basil, broth and bread (for thickening). It was a little sweet--I could’ve used some cheese--but really fresh and really good. I knew I was in for a treat when I saw a huge crowd of Italians waiting in front of this cafeteria thing. You could tell it wasn’t your run-of-the-mill pizza/pasta stand.

The indoor market (Mercato Centrale) was really neat. Outside were a bunch of booths trying to sell you poorly-made pashtima scarves and jewelry. They were too aggressive. If you want me to look at your stand, give me air. If you want me to not look at your stand, tell me you have the stuff in the market and you’ll give me the best price. Baaaaaaack off. I didn’t buy anything.

I walked over to the Duomo, which is a really unique-looking church. The emphasis was the patterned decoration and the really intricate detailing, not the architecture (not to sell the architecture short).

At this point, I hit the wall. I went back to the hostel to read a little and take a nap.

For dinner, I met up with Britt and her friend Alina. We went to Spera, a hole-in-the-wall pizza place on the outside of the city center. I got a Napoli pizza for less than 4 Euro! I don’t know how they make money off that (we got wine, so there’s the answer, I guess).

I had to get up very early Sunday morning, so I went back and went to sleep.


Sunday, 4/13

I got up at 6:30. My train was at 8:14 and I ended up having way too much time, but I wasn’t taking any chances with missing my train (out of not having enough time or out of confusion). If I missed that train, I was going to miss my flight. On the whole, it was a long and unfun day of traveling.

The Tuscan countryside kept me awake, even though I usually nap on trains. The hills and quant villas are really cool and really personable. I got to Milano Centrale at 11, and from there took a shuttle bus to the airport. I did have to take a lap around the station to find where the shuttle bus was (the ticket agent said “outside”), but I found it. The bus cost 8 Euro ($13). These ticky-tack hidden costs really added up over the course of the semester.

I arrived at the airport almost too soon to check-in (I was NOT missing this flight). I hit up the duty-free shop for a liquid gift to bring home. My iPod was dead, which sucked, and on the flight I was too tired to read and too uncomfortable to sleep. Whatever. I was almost home.

From Weeze I took a taxi service (for 15 Euroà$24), which dropped me off right where the buses that go through Well do. It was a long day and a long weekend and I’d had enough, for the time being, of being my own company. But the castle’s become my home, and home I was.


I went on a day trip to Cologne Thursday and to Nijmegen, a city here in the Netherlands, yesterday. I'll post about those later--maybe not until I have my feet back on the ground in the United States. I leave Friday! Pray for my travels...US Airways has already been playing some practical jokes on me!