Rome, last evening
Unbelievably, it's the last day. I had a wonderful trip, but, unlike past rips, I'm not remorseful, or sad, or wishing it wasn't over. I'm so ready for home. I guess because half my life and heart are waiting for me there.
This morning, we sang in the Pantheon, a temple/later church built by Constantine in 118 AD (meaning it was almost 2000 years old). The famous thing about it is that it's dome is in perfect proportions, with the radius exactly the height of the dome itself, and the diameter the height from the floor to the base of the dome. Consequently, it felt incredibly spacious, almost like the roof was open above you. We sang for about 5 minutes (all they would let us, even though we sounded really good), then hurried off back to the Vatican museums for our tour. It took us about 30 minutes walking very fast in the hot sun to get there, but thank God the building, once we got there, was air conditioned.
They had tons of security measures, bag scanners, guards, metal detectors, but it was like even though they had all the stuff, they really didn't care. The guards didn't really watch the bag scanner, people would beep in the metal detector, and they'd just get waved through. It was really stupid.
The way they did our tour was ingenious. The guide had a microphone that broadcasted to little radio things that we had, that then played through earbuds we had, so everyone in the group could hear. Very smart. The tour was about 1 ½ hours, our guide was good, and although I saw some beautiful stuff, I thought the Vatican Museums really weren't worth it, except that it was the only way to get into the Sistine Chapel.
The Chapel was beautiful, but not nearly as big as one would think. It really is just a chapel, which even though that's what the name says, I kept thinking it would be the size of the cathedrals we'd been at. It was breathtaking though. The entrance to the chapel is at the end of a long string of the modern religious art rooms at the museums. You go through it, wondering when all the weird stuff is going to end, you go through a little door, and all of a sudden you're in the chapel. It kind of takes you by surprise, like that entrance just isn't quite grand enough for something so wonderful. Seeing things with your own eyes that you've seen hundreds of times in pictures is really amazing, which is kind of how this whole Italy trip has been. The fresco of God and Adam touching pointer fingers always moves me, and I loved seeing it. My only complaint was the massive number of people, making impossible to even try to stay together as a group, and the whole experience a little less comprtable.
Our tour took a lot longer than we had expected, so we got out without having had lunch, and with an hour and a half to get to our tour of the Catacombs. Aimee was in the other half of the group with the Hakilas, so when our group finished the tour, we decided to make our way to the Catacombs ourselves. At 3:30, nearly 2 hours, 3 bus rides, and massive amounts of confusion later, half our group, which amounted to 14 people (the other half had lost hope, and gone back to the hotel) arrived at the Catacombs, where we found that the rest of the people we were meeting had thought it was just too difficult to get there, and we were on our own. We raided the scantily supplied vending machines since no one had eaten anything since the roll that was breakfast, and bought our own tickets, determined not to give up after the ridiculous amount of trouble we took to get there.
It was cold down there, and actually a little creepy and morbid. I'm glad I did it, and it was cool (literally and figuratively), but the tour was only about 15 minutes, and there really wasn't much to see, except hundreds of feet of stone and earth corridors stretching ahead of you, and empty graves rising above you. Historically, it was awesome, but I've never felt eerie before in any place I've gone, except there. It would make a great setting for a creepy movie.
Our return trip was nearly as epic as the ride to get there, but it was a little smoother since we sort of knew what to do. I forced myself to not worry about what to do, and let the people more capable than me tell me what to do, and therein, learned a great life lesson: save yourself a lot of stress by knowing when you need to take charge, and when to sit back and let others do it.
I enjoyed the whole crazy day a lot more because of that.
I was hoping to do some shopping afterwards, but since we didn't straggle back into home base until after 5, that didn't happen. We went to dinner at a little restaurant called Miscellane where at least one group of us has eaten lunch and dinner every day we've been here. I had the best caprese (fresh tomatoes and mozzarella in thick slices) there I've ever had, along with 2 shots of the “sexy wine” they have, and some dessert they brought out since it was Davis's birthday.
Altogether, it was an epic day, a fitting end to this epic/crazy/wonderful/irritating/fun/nearly perfect trip. I was planning to post this tomorrow morning before we leave, but I found out our bus to the airport is leaving at 7, and we have to load our bags at 6:45, so that idea went out the window. It's actually wonderful that we have a bus, and don't all have to take separate taxis (which would be a nightmare), so I'm not going to complain. I'm just so glad to be coming home, that no matter what happens tomorrow, I think I will be the eternal optimist. My heart and mind are full to overflowing with sights, and thoughts, and feelings, and experiences, that I've hardly processed them all, but the one overriding emotion is home-readiness. My heart yearns for Nick, for my bed, for my sister, for sweet tea...
I'm coming home.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
On the home countdown...
Rome, second day
This has been a whirlwind of a day, and my body is definitely telling me it's time to put away my walking shoes and go home. I've never had swollen ankles in my life, but today, all the veins in my lower legs are throbbing, and hurt with each step. That coupled with the hurting feet are enough to send me home.
Breakfast at this hotel has turned out to be rather a poor affair: packaged pastries (though slightly redeemed when they brought out hot rolls), yogurt, and tar-like coffee. Thankfully, I'd stolen 5 Earl Grey tea bags from the hotel in Florence, and so was able to have tea instead of icky coffee. Breakfast was early since we had to start walking to the coliseum by 8:30. The walk was fun. Rome is a fascinating place to be, again, my favorite for it's own reasons. The architecture and history everywhere is amazing. We just walked by the ruins of the old senate building, and then an enormous temple to Venus. Unreal.
The coliseum was amazing, much more interesting than I thought it would be. I hadn't realized that there was a basement underneath the stadium floor, where not only did they keep the fighting animals, they had irrigation and sewer systems and an incredibly complex theatrical system, complete with tilting and rising platforms, tons of trap doors where gladiators and animals entered the arena, but also pulley-and-ropes systems that hoisted set pieces into the arena to make fights more believable. There was also a team of specially trained sailors to worked the huge canvas awning that protected people from the sun and rain. It was fascinating.
After our tour, the group split up for lunch. Mom, dad, and I went with the Bairds and Reeds to a little restaurant around the corner from the hotel, and they did the coolest thing ever. After the meal, they brought out big chunks of watermelon to eat with a fork and knife (I haven't had fruit in so long), and then shots of their specialty wine, which was a red, sparkling wine that had strong notes of strawberry in it. It was so good. Just...amazing.
Mom and I went to go try to find some sunglasses, since this has been a bad 2 glasses days for the Turners. Dad's reading glasses snapped in half, then his regular sunglasses, then the little screw in the corner of mine came out and broke, then mom's lens popped out and won't go back in. We never found any good ones, so we're all still squinting. Which results in splitting headaches for me.
We rested in the room for a while before heading out again. Being in the heat so much here absolutely wipes you out. Our air conditioner works wonders, and even though I have a knack for accidentally picking the uncomfortable, cot-type, extra bed that they pull in that's not supposed to be there, it felt so good to lay down.
We all walked in a humongous clump over to Vatican City which took about 30 minutes. It was hot, but not nearly as hot as Venice, and one of the locals told mom that we were lucky to be here now, not last week when it was sweltering. A little side note about one of my favorite things about Italy: they have fountains of pure, cold water everywhere where you can fill water bottles or whatever for free and it's so awesome. I wish we had something like that in Charleston.
Mr. Cross and Tiffany left immediately for St Peter's after the coliseum, working to get us into the basilica (even though we were singing the freakin mass). We got there around 4, and they had just finally gotten them to not make us stand in the line just to get in. if we'd've stood in the line (which stretched all the way to the end of the colonnade), we would have missed the mass. Just getting in the doors was like trying to see the president. Finally, after we went through a bunch of security, they led us around the back of the building, essentially backstage of the Vatican, to bypass the lines. We felt very exclusive.
I was prepared not to really like St Peter's. I had assumed it was going to be really overdone, and just very...Catholic, I guess. But I was wrong. Other than Canterbury, it is my favorite place we have sung. It was unbelievably beautiful, and tasteful, and spacious, and clean. The size is staggering. You just can't take it in. The church is filled with beautiful sculptures, thousands of them, and huge paintings, and different colored marble in beautiful patterns. I mean, it was just amazing.
The original Pieta was there too, really the only sculpture that bring tears to my eyes, and always has. That was worth the whole trip to see it with my own eyes.
The mass went really well too, although I'm not sure all the kids realized how amazing it was that we were actually singing there. It was an incredible honor, and tons of people stopped, and pressed in around the full pews to hear us, and asked for pictures and autographs, and all kinds of crazy things. First time this choir was ever treated like rock stars. I think they thought we were the basilica choir.
By this time, I was really tired, and my head, feet, and legs were killing me, plus I really had to pee. Sad to say, I turned into a little girl again. Aimee went with the Hakalas, so mom dad and I meandered back toward the hotel, stopping in multiple antique bookstores and trying to find gelato. It has been so nice and fun to spend so much alone time with them. I don't remember ever really having much of that until now, since it was always all 3 of us girls together. I've loved it. Eventually, we got back to the Piazza del Novana (the place to be in the evening in Rome apparently) right near our hotel, looked for a place to sit and have dessert, decided against it, and headed back to the little gelato place called “Chiuri, Chiuri” that we'd found yesterday. It was amazing. Again.
And now, I think I may to go bed early if I can. My brain is shutting down and all it can do is regurgitate the day's events, not add the interesting little tidbits that make travel diaries interesting, so to whoever is reading this, sorry :)
Everything in me is telling me it's time to go home, and I relish the thought more every minute. Yay for home.
This has been a whirlwind of a day, and my body is definitely telling me it's time to put away my walking shoes and go home. I've never had swollen ankles in my life, but today, all the veins in my lower legs are throbbing, and hurt with each step. That coupled with the hurting feet are enough to send me home.
Breakfast at this hotel has turned out to be rather a poor affair: packaged pastries (though slightly redeemed when they brought out hot rolls), yogurt, and tar-like coffee. Thankfully, I'd stolen 5 Earl Grey tea bags from the hotel in Florence, and so was able to have tea instead of icky coffee. Breakfast was early since we had to start walking to the coliseum by 8:30. The walk was fun. Rome is a fascinating place to be, again, my favorite for it's own reasons. The architecture and history everywhere is amazing. We just walked by the ruins of the old senate building, and then an enormous temple to Venus. Unreal.
The coliseum was amazing, much more interesting than I thought it would be. I hadn't realized that there was a basement underneath the stadium floor, where not only did they keep the fighting animals, they had irrigation and sewer systems and an incredibly complex theatrical system, complete with tilting and rising platforms, tons of trap doors where gladiators and animals entered the arena, but also pulley-and-ropes systems that hoisted set pieces into the arena to make fights more believable. There was also a team of specially trained sailors to worked the huge canvas awning that protected people from the sun and rain. It was fascinating.
After our tour, the group split up for lunch. Mom, dad, and I went with the Bairds and Reeds to a little restaurant around the corner from the hotel, and they did the coolest thing ever. After the meal, they brought out big chunks of watermelon to eat with a fork and knife (I haven't had fruit in so long), and then shots of their specialty wine, which was a red, sparkling wine that had strong notes of strawberry in it. It was so good. Just...amazing.
Mom and I went to go try to find some sunglasses, since this has been a bad 2 glasses days for the Turners. Dad's reading glasses snapped in half, then his regular sunglasses, then the little screw in the corner of mine came out and broke, then mom's lens popped out and won't go back in. We never found any good ones, so we're all still squinting. Which results in splitting headaches for me.
We rested in the room for a while before heading out again. Being in the heat so much here absolutely wipes you out. Our air conditioner works wonders, and even though I have a knack for accidentally picking the uncomfortable, cot-type, extra bed that they pull in that's not supposed to be there, it felt so good to lay down.
We all walked in a humongous clump over to Vatican City which took about 30 minutes. It was hot, but not nearly as hot as Venice, and one of the locals told mom that we were lucky to be here now, not last week when it was sweltering. A little side note about one of my favorite things about Italy: they have fountains of pure, cold water everywhere where you can fill water bottles or whatever for free and it's so awesome. I wish we had something like that in Charleston.
Mr. Cross and Tiffany left immediately for St Peter's after the coliseum, working to get us into the basilica (even though we were singing the freakin mass). We got there around 4, and they had just finally gotten them to not make us stand in the line just to get in. if we'd've stood in the line (which stretched all the way to the end of the colonnade), we would have missed the mass. Just getting in the doors was like trying to see the president. Finally, after we went through a bunch of security, they led us around the back of the building, essentially backstage of the Vatican, to bypass the lines. We felt very exclusive.
I was prepared not to really like St Peter's. I had assumed it was going to be really overdone, and just very...Catholic, I guess. But I was wrong. Other than Canterbury, it is my favorite place we have sung. It was unbelievably beautiful, and tasteful, and spacious, and clean. The size is staggering. You just can't take it in. The church is filled with beautiful sculptures, thousands of them, and huge paintings, and different colored marble in beautiful patterns. I mean, it was just amazing.
The original Pieta was there too, really the only sculpture that bring tears to my eyes, and always has. That was worth the whole trip to see it with my own eyes.
The mass went really well too, although I'm not sure all the kids realized how amazing it was that we were actually singing there. It was an incredible honor, and tons of people stopped, and pressed in around the full pews to hear us, and asked for pictures and autographs, and all kinds of crazy things. First time this choir was ever treated like rock stars. I think they thought we were the basilica choir.
By this time, I was really tired, and my head, feet, and legs were killing me, plus I really had to pee. Sad to say, I turned into a little girl again. Aimee went with the Hakalas, so mom dad and I meandered back toward the hotel, stopping in multiple antique bookstores and trying to find gelato. It has been so nice and fun to spend so much alone time with them. I don't remember ever really having much of that until now, since it was always all 3 of us girls together. I've loved it. Eventually, we got back to the Piazza del Novana (the place to be in the evening in Rome apparently) right near our hotel, looked for a place to sit and have dessert, decided against it, and headed back to the little gelato place called “Chiuri, Chiuri” that we'd found yesterday. It was amazing. Again.
And now, I think I may to go bed early if I can. My brain is shutting down and all it can do is regurgitate the day's events, not add the interesting little tidbits that make travel diaries interesting, so to whoever is reading this, sorry :)
Everything in me is telling me it's time to go home, and I relish the thought more every minute. Yay for home.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Spoleto to Rome, the home stretch
Spoleto
This place is beautiful. I was going to say it is my favorite, but I think each place has been so distinct, they've all been my favorites in a way. Venice for the water, and how it reminded me of home, Florence for the shopping and colorful hustle and bustle, and now Spoleto for it's quiet charm and peace.
The convent we're staying in is on the very edge of the city, which is built on a hill as it was the Roman fortress guarding the narrowing of the Spoleto valley which leads into the rest of Italy. The valley is incredibly verdant, nestled between two mountain ranges. There are 4 defensive cities leading up to Spoleto, and each one has own flavor and charm; one I saw looked like it still had the roman wall surrounding it. There is a 10-arched Roman aqueduct that spans the narrowed gap where the 2 mountain ranges come near each other, and there are ruins of old fortresses jutting out of hills. From the courtyard of the convent where I'm sitting now, you can see over the wall to the mountain beside it, and the space and everything that's growing that's green is so restful to your eyes. I haven't seen grass for trees or plants really in all the other cities, but here, it's overflowing around us. Vibrant flowers everywhere, vegetable gardens with lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, and herbs, grape arbors, lush hillsides...a feast for the eyes. Here the courtyard is surrounded by bright red geraniums in terracotta boxes, rows of roses, and random evergreen tree, which work together to be very peaceful and beautiful, and a jasmine vine, which instantly made me homesick.
Our mass at the Duomo in Florence yesterday went very well. That duomo was very different from the ones in Venice. There, the inside of the churches were spectacular, mosaics and paintings and colored light, while the outsides were more plain stone. In Florence, the outside of the duomo was a spectacular design of red and green and white marble, while inside, it was more austere, except for the dome itself, which was like looking into heaven. The acoustics were so alive, a few of the songs we sang didn't really work, as the notes were complex and fast, so they got muddled. But the rest of if was beautiful. Another difference between Italian and English cathedrals is that in Italy, the bell towers are tall, rectangular tower jutting either out the the roof near the domes, or completely separate structures standing beside the church. I find it symmetrically disturbing.
Surprisingly, the loading and embarking of all 86 people and our luggage yesterday went extremely smoothly, and the 3 hour bus trip was really not bad. The scenery was breathtaking, but completely unable to be captured in pictures, so I didn't try much. It's just something you have to see to absorb.
Once we arrived at the convent, we waited around for about 45 minutes for the nuns to finish praying, then it took over an hour and a half to do room and key assignments. Again, we were lucky in our room, somehow, our family got the suite, complete with a full bathroom, a kitchen (with a freezer that has an ice tray!), and hand-washing laundry sink, and a real dryer. Literally, unbelievable riches. It's pretty much how you would expect an hundreds of year old convent to be, but charming and rustic.
We went searching for dinner late last night after settling in, and as we were walking, found big posters advertising our choir, and the old roman amphitheater here perched on the side of the hill. Just being around the history is amazing.
For breakfast, we were served absolutely delicious croissants and hard rolls, one each, with butter and jam, along with wonderful Italian coffee and tea. I had a cup of coffee (so you will understand how that attests to it's yumminess, since I don't like coffee all that much) and 2 cups of tea. Which added up to me having a huge caffeine buzz, plus really having to pee. It was worth it though.
We have our tour of the Duomo this morning, then are free until we sing mass tonight. We leave tomorrow morning, and I'm sorry we're not staying here longer, although, leaving here means Rome, and Rome means home. The other bright side is that I totaled up all the money I've spent so far, and realized I have like $100 some dollars still.
Which is exciting...
Afternoon, Spoleto
It's suddenly storming; thunder is rolling through the mountains, and the rain is pouring down. We have our window open, and a deep, earthy smell is rising up from the rain-soaked ground in the garden outside. Thunder and rain in the mountains is wonderful.
After our small walk through the cathedral, we walked up to see the viaduct. There was an vista point that overlooked the whole city and the mountains, and then you walked a little way further around the mountain to reach the viaduct. It was impressive, unbelievably tall and thick, with the walkway on the north side of it.
We found out that someone had just jumped from the bridge, and they closed it to visitors behind us as we left.
Afterwards, we attempted to find lunch, but most places were still closed since it was only about noon, so finally, incredibly frustrated and tired, the MacMurphys, and Graudin boys, and mom, dad, and I (Aimee was with Oriane and her family) found a tiny little grocery market, and bought some bread, and gouda, and fresh lettuce and tomatoes, and tortellini with a teeny jar on sauce, and some kiwi, and little chocolate wafer things, and a yummy, sour, fizzy grapefruit drink in a humongous bottle. We came back to our room to fix it in our kitchen, and the entire meal for 8 people cost us all of 20 euros, about 2.50 per person. Which was sure a change from the norm.
All I want right now is a sweet tea. It's totally going to be the first thing I'm going to get once I get home...
Train from Spoleto to Rome
Well, this was epic. Turns out that Spoleto didn't have enough public buses and taxis to get us all to the train station, so it looked like we were all going to have to walk the hilly 30 minutes, with our luggage. So we all got up super extra early to get to breakfast in time, then found out that we really hadn't needed to, since they had managed to get the 2 big buses that brought us here to come back to tote us all to the station. So much better, although I'd have preferred to have known I could've slept in a little more. We stood in the misty rain for about an hour and a half (since we had allotted all the extra time for walking, which was brilliant), waiting for the train, then found out it would be 20 minutes late. Then, literally as the train was stopping in front of us, they yelled at us to cross to the other side of the platform. There was a slow stampede of all 86 of us wielding our luggage down a flight of stairs, across the underground hall, and up the other staircase to the platform. People were mad, and rushing, and bunched together, and hoisting, and lifting, and pushing. Ridiculous.
But we made it though. We're all on, with no meetings or rehearsals planned. Thank God.
Dad and I walked to a little cafe before we left to get some internet, which was nice, then came back just in time to find out that I'd missed the memo that there was going to be a little concert for the little mother superior. I walked in for the last page of Cantate Domino (which apparently had sounded awful at the beginning) and then Media Vita. We sounded half asleep, which we were. Ah well.
I thought the concert last night was not the best, but everyone else thought it was amazing. The little church was beautiful, even if it was hot. After mass, we sang a little concert for whoever wanted to stay, which most people (who weren't choir parents, who had to stay) did. Afterwards, on Mara's suggestion, we went to a semi-fancy restaurant for a “set meal,” something every single Italian restaurant has, which is basically just a set 3-4 course menu for a single price. It was really good, although not the best meal I've had here, but still very good. Especially because they gave us a discount.
Something I'm enjoying about this trip is being able to slip back a little bit into being a little girl. I don't have a watch with me, and none of the rooms ever have clocks, ever, so I get to have my mom wake me up again, and have my parents pay for my food, and generally not have to be totally responsible for myself. It feels nice. For a while.
Honestly, although this trip has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed the singing more than I ever have before, I am so glad it's so nearly time to come home. I miss everything, and everyone. I'm tired of being on the move, and wearing the same clothes, seeing the same people, living out of a duffel bag, and (unbelievably) eating out. I've never had carbs this many days in a row for every single meal in my life. Give me fruit, and vegetables, and a lean piece of meat for crying out loud. And please...give me home.
There's a certain group of parents who are semi-drunk again. Already.
Rome
So far, this has been our shabbiest hotel, by far. Not that it's actually bad, it has a bathroom, and air conditioning, and free wireless in the lobby. It's more like broken door frames, and leaf-shaped decorations made out of cardboard sprayed with shiny gold paint, and my sheets that smell like sweat kind of shabby.
The train here was not nearly as nice as the one from Venice. My seat was sticky, and there wasn't room to put anything except in your lap. I also had that group of parents across from me, so when I couldn't take their hysterical laughing anymore, I put in my Ipod, listened to love songs, and tried to find a comfortable way to sit. It was cold, and my ears were going crazy from the drastically changing pressure between tunnels and open country, and I really had to pee, but there were sketchy guys standing where the WC was, and I didn't feel like attempting it. Although it doesn't sound that bad, I think it was the most miserable time of the trip.
Thankfully, getting a taxi was very easy, with no long lines, and angry people. The ride to the hotel was only about 10 minutes, then up more flights of stairs to our little room. It's very little. And we're having a hard time getting our electronics to charge in this hotel. Which is not good.
After settling in, our family along with Tiffany and a boy from the choir and his mom went to find lunch. We ended up at a restaurant in the big piazza near the hotel, and had absolutely the best pizza I've had this entire trip. It was fabulous.
It's not as hot here as I thought it would be, at least when you're not in the sun. tomorrow when we're out touring, it may be different, but looking for lunch today was actually quite pleasant. As far as I know, the rest of the day is free. We came back and took a little nap and are now heading out to do some shopping. I'm really fixated on the idea to get a dress or two here. I mean, since I have the extra money...
I guess I'll go ahead and post this now, and maybe a few short ones as I write them, before we leave since the wireless is free. It's so weird and wonderful not to have to wonder if the next place is going to have wireless, or if we'll have a shower, or if the bed will be bearable because the next place I'll be is my own home! I'm so happy. Nearly 3 weeks is a very long time. Even though coming home does mean starting real life again; school and work and choir and all my other responsibilities, it also means being back with Nick, and seeing his family, and my girls at work, and being in my own bed, and starting a brand new thing in school, and working out, and just being back in my normal life. And I love my normal life. Adventure is great, but thank God, nothing can beat all the wonderfulness I already have.
My love to all. I'll be home soon.
This place is beautiful. I was going to say it is my favorite, but I think each place has been so distinct, they've all been my favorites in a way. Venice for the water, and how it reminded me of home, Florence for the shopping and colorful hustle and bustle, and now Spoleto for it's quiet charm and peace.
The convent we're staying in is on the very edge of the city, which is built on a hill as it was the Roman fortress guarding the narrowing of the Spoleto valley which leads into the rest of Italy. The valley is incredibly verdant, nestled between two mountain ranges. There are 4 defensive cities leading up to Spoleto, and each one has own flavor and charm; one I saw looked like it still had the roman wall surrounding it. There is a 10-arched Roman aqueduct that spans the narrowed gap where the 2 mountain ranges come near each other, and there are ruins of old fortresses jutting out of hills. From the courtyard of the convent where I'm sitting now, you can see over the wall to the mountain beside it, and the space and everything that's growing that's green is so restful to your eyes. I haven't seen grass for trees or plants really in all the other cities, but here, it's overflowing around us. Vibrant flowers everywhere, vegetable gardens with lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, and herbs, grape arbors, lush hillsides...a feast for the eyes. Here the courtyard is surrounded by bright red geraniums in terracotta boxes, rows of roses, and random evergreen tree, which work together to be very peaceful and beautiful, and a jasmine vine, which instantly made me homesick.
Our mass at the Duomo in Florence yesterday went very well. That duomo was very different from the ones in Venice. There, the inside of the churches were spectacular, mosaics and paintings and colored light, while the outsides were more plain stone. In Florence, the outside of the duomo was a spectacular design of red and green and white marble, while inside, it was more austere, except for the dome itself, which was like looking into heaven. The acoustics were so alive, a few of the songs we sang didn't really work, as the notes were complex and fast, so they got muddled. But the rest of if was beautiful. Another difference between Italian and English cathedrals is that in Italy, the bell towers are tall, rectangular tower jutting either out the the roof near the domes, or completely separate structures standing beside the church. I find it symmetrically disturbing.
Surprisingly, the loading and embarking of all 86 people and our luggage yesterday went extremely smoothly, and the 3 hour bus trip was really not bad. The scenery was breathtaking, but completely unable to be captured in pictures, so I didn't try much. It's just something you have to see to absorb.
Once we arrived at the convent, we waited around for about 45 minutes for the nuns to finish praying, then it took over an hour and a half to do room and key assignments. Again, we were lucky in our room, somehow, our family got the suite, complete with a full bathroom, a kitchen (with a freezer that has an ice tray!), and hand-washing laundry sink, and a real dryer. Literally, unbelievable riches. It's pretty much how you would expect an hundreds of year old convent to be, but charming and rustic.
We went searching for dinner late last night after settling in, and as we were walking, found big posters advertising our choir, and the old roman amphitheater here perched on the side of the hill. Just being around the history is amazing.
For breakfast, we were served absolutely delicious croissants and hard rolls, one each, with butter and jam, along with wonderful Italian coffee and tea. I had a cup of coffee (so you will understand how that attests to it's yumminess, since I don't like coffee all that much) and 2 cups of tea. Which added up to me having a huge caffeine buzz, plus really having to pee. It was worth it though.
We have our tour of the Duomo this morning, then are free until we sing mass tonight. We leave tomorrow morning, and I'm sorry we're not staying here longer, although, leaving here means Rome, and Rome means home. The other bright side is that I totaled up all the money I've spent so far, and realized I have like $100 some dollars still.
Which is exciting...
Afternoon, Spoleto
It's suddenly storming; thunder is rolling through the mountains, and the rain is pouring down. We have our window open, and a deep, earthy smell is rising up from the rain-soaked ground in the garden outside. Thunder and rain in the mountains is wonderful.
After our small walk through the cathedral, we walked up to see the viaduct. There was an vista point that overlooked the whole city and the mountains, and then you walked a little way further around the mountain to reach the viaduct. It was impressive, unbelievably tall and thick, with the walkway on the north side of it.
We found out that someone had just jumped from the bridge, and they closed it to visitors behind us as we left.
Afterwards, we attempted to find lunch, but most places were still closed since it was only about noon, so finally, incredibly frustrated and tired, the MacMurphys, and Graudin boys, and mom, dad, and I (Aimee was with Oriane and her family) found a tiny little grocery market, and bought some bread, and gouda, and fresh lettuce and tomatoes, and tortellini with a teeny jar on sauce, and some kiwi, and little chocolate wafer things, and a yummy, sour, fizzy grapefruit drink in a humongous bottle. We came back to our room to fix it in our kitchen, and the entire meal for 8 people cost us all of 20 euros, about 2.50 per person. Which was sure a change from the norm.
All I want right now is a sweet tea. It's totally going to be the first thing I'm going to get once I get home...
Train from Spoleto to Rome
Well, this was epic. Turns out that Spoleto didn't have enough public buses and taxis to get us all to the train station, so it looked like we were all going to have to walk the hilly 30 minutes, with our luggage. So we all got up super extra early to get to breakfast in time, then found out that we really hadn't needed to, since they had managed to get the 2 big buses that brought us here to come back to tote us all to the station. So much better, although I'd have preferred to have known I could've slept in a little more. We stood in the misty rain for about an hour and a half (since we had allotted all the extra time for walking, which was brilliant), waiting for the train, then found out it would be 20 minutes late. Then, literally as the train was stopping in front of us, they yelled at us to cross to the other side of the platform. There was a slow stampede of all 86 of us wielding our luggage down a flight of stairs, across the underground hall, and up the other staircase to the platform. People were mad, and rushing, and bunched together, and hoisting, and lifting, and pushing. Ridiculous.
But we made it though. We're all on, with no meetings or rehearsals planned. Thank God.
Dad and I walked to a little cafe before we left to get some internet, which was nice, then came back just in time to find out that I'd missed the memo that there was going to be a little concert for the little mother superior. I walked in for the last page of Cantate Domino (which apparently had sounded awful at the beginning) and then Media Vita. We sounded half asleep, which we were. Ah well.
I thought the concert last night was not the best, but everyone else thought it was amazing. The little church was beautiful, even if it was hot. After mass, we sang a little concert for whoever wanted to stay, which most people (who weren't choir parents, who had to stay) did. Afterwards, on Mara's suggestion, we went to a semi-fancy restaurant for a “set meal,” something every single Italian restaurant has, which is basically just a set 3-4 course menu for a single price. It was really good, although not the best meal I've had here, but still very good. Especially because they gave us a discount.
Something I'm enjoying about this trip is being able to slip back a little bit into being a little girl. I don't have a watch with me, and none of the rooms ever have clocks, ever, so I get to have my mom wake me up again, and have my parents pay for my food, and generally not have to be totally responsible for myself. It feels nice. For a while.
Honestly, although this trip has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed the singing more than I ever have before, I am so glad it's so nearly time to come home. I miss everything, and everyone. I'm tired of being on the move, and wearing the same clothes, seeing the same people, living out of a duffel bag, and (unbelievably) eating out. I've never had carbs this many days in a row for every single meal in my life. Give me fruit, and vegetables, and a lean piece of meat for crying out loud. And please...give me home.
There's a certain group of parents who are semi-drunk again. Already.
Rome
So far, this has been our shabbiest hotel, by far. Not that it's actually bad, it has a bathroom, and air conditioning, and free wireless in the lobby. It's more like broken door frames, and leaf-shaped decorations made out of cardboard sprayed with shiny gold paint, and my sheets that smell like sweat kind of shabby.
The train here was not nearly as nice as the one from Venice. My seat was sticky, and there wasn't room to put anything except in your lap. I also had that group of parents across from me, so when I couldn't take their hysterical laughing anymore, I put in my Ipod, listened to love songs, and tried to find a comfortable way to sit. It was cold, and my ears were going crazy from the drastically changing pressure between tunnels and open country, and I really had to pee, but there were sketchy guys standing where the WC was, and I didn't feel like attempting it. Although it doesn't sound that bad, I think it was the most miserable time of the trip.
Thankfully, getting a taxi was very easy, with no long lines, and angry people. The ride to the hotel was only about 10 minutes, then up more flights of stairs to our little room. It's very little. And we're having a hard time getting our electronics to charge in this hotel. Which is not good.
After settling in, our family along with Tiffany and a boy from the choir and his mom went to find lunch. We ended up at a restaurant in the big piazza near the hotel, and had absolutely the best pizza I've had this entire trip. It was fabulous.
It's not as hot here as I thought it would be, at least when you're not in the sun. tomorrow when we're out touring, it may be different, but looking for lunch today was actually quite pleasant. As far as I know, the rest of the day is free. We came back and took a little nap and are now heading out to do some shopping. I'm really fixated on the idea to get a dress or two here. I mean, since I have the extra money...
I guess I'll go ahead and post this now, and maybe a few short ones as I write them, before we leave since the wireless is free. It's so weird and wonderful not to have to wonder if the next place is going to have wireless, or if we'll have a shower, or if the bed will be bearable because the next place I'll be is my own home! I'm so happy. Nearly 3 weeks is a very long time. Even though coming home does mean starting real life again; school and work and choir and all my other responsibilities, it also means being back with Nick, and seeing his family, and my girls at work, and being in my own bed, and starting a brand new thing in school, and working out, and just being back in my normal life. And I love my normal life. Adventure is great, but thank God, nothing can beat all the wonderfulness I already have.
My love to all. I'll be home soon.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Firenze to Spoleto, 5 days til home
2nd Day of Florence, or if you speak Italian, Firenze
At the moment, I am feeling incredibly accomplished and satisfied with myself because I have officially finished all of my shopping. I also finally got myself something nice, so I think I've spend all the money I brought, and I think I did it rather well. I found bartering fun.
I'm very thankful for my big sunglasses here, as they give me a certain amount of privacy. Like when guys try to get your attention, and you can pretend you didn't see them. Or while we were rehearsing out in the Piazza del Republica below our hotel, and people were stopping to gawk, which I found rather embarrassing, and therefore, appreciated my slight anonymity. Actually, it was probably pretty funny to watching all 40 of us shuffling around the square, trying to stay out of the sun. But it is worth it; the difference between the sun and the shade is incredible, at least 7 or 8 degrees, and definitely worth trying to stay there.
The two museums were ok. At the Uffizi, there were some original Rembrants, and at the Accademia, of course there was David, which was amazing. Now we're free from any choir business until 11:15 tomorrow when we all have to arrive at the Duomo to prepare for the mass.
I have somehow managed to completely decimate all the nail polish on my right foot, while my left foot is still relatively unharmed. Which is weird. I must be harder on my right foot.
Florence is really different from Venice. I think I like it better. The downside is cars and buses and mopeds, which is not really that great as I liked the water better, but it is much easier to get around in Florence. Venice was literally like a maze. I also completely don't understand traffic here. Very few of the streets actually look like one. Like when we were walking in the piazza last night, 2 cars just came right through the middle of it, and people just kind of got out of the way. Very weird. Almost nothing is marked.
Also, apparently, the Piazza del Republica is a great hangout, with great food, and lots of entertainment. I know this because I could hear it all from our 5h story room last night. It wasn't like drunken, rowdy, annoying noise, just enough Italian singing to keep you awake.
Late evening in Firenze
I'm waiting for mom to get out of the shower, and listening to about 3 different performers down in the piazza through our open window. It's really cool when you're not trying to sleep.
We trecked all around the city with bags of dirty laundry with the MacMurphys looking for the laundromat, which we found, and thank God, cleaned our clothes. Mom and I left Aimee to watch the clothes with some other people from the choir while we went back to the open-air market that I got the rest of my gifts at to shop a little more. We bargained more, and decided more, and found good stuff.
We got back to the hotel for a little breather, and I was able to facebook chat Nick for about 45 minutes, which was nice. The internet connection was taking a long time for some reason, so it was more like a 25 minute conversation, rather than a 45 minute one, but it was still good. After that, our family and Tiffany decided to try to find a particular bridge that is famous because it's the only one the Nazi's didn't blow up on their way through Italy, for whatever reason. We found it, looked at it, and then crossed it to find something to eat. We stopped at a little grocery store, and Dad picked out a very typical meal for our family: wheat bagel-bite things, and a tub of cream cheese. Our family can put away some cheese, I'm telling you. We ate it on a stone wall overlooking the big river in Florence, then ran into another group of our people on the way home, and got cheap but delicious gelato (Aimee's third of the day, by the way.)
We have to be checked out by 10:30 tomorrow, and I have no idea what kind of internet situation it will be in Spoleto, so I'll try to post this last little bit I've written tomorrow before we leave. It makes me happy to know that at least a few people are interested in my trip and me, and reading this. I love you few people :)
Ok, the shower's mine. More tomorrow. Home has nevr looked so good :)
At the moment, I am feeling incredibly accomplished and satisfied with myself because I have officially finished all of my shopping. I also finally got myself something nice, so I think I've spend all the money I brought, and I think I did it rather well. I found bartering fun.
I'm very thankful for my big sunglasses here, as they give me a certain amount of privacy. Like when guys try to get your attention, and you can pretend you didn't see them. Or while we were rehearsing out in the Piazza del Republica below our hotel, and people were stopping to gawk, which I found rather embarrassing, and therefore, appreciated my slight anonymity. Actually, it was probably pretty funny to watching all 40 of us shuffling around the square, trying to stay out of the sun. But it is worth it; the difference between the sun and the shade is incredible, at least 7 or 8 degrees, and definitely worth trying to stay there.
The two museums were ok. At the Uffizi, there were some original Rembrants, and at the Accademia, of course there was David, which was amazing. Now we're free from any choir business until 11:15 tomorrow when we all have to arrive at the Duomo to prepare for the mass.
I have somehow managed to completely decimate all the nail polish on my right foot, while my left foot is still relatively unharmed. Which is weird. I must be harder on my right foot.
Florence is really different from Venice. I think I like it better. The downside is cars and buses and mopeds, which is not really that great as I liked the water better, but it is much easier to get around in Florence. Venice was literally like a maze. I also completely don't understand traffic here. Very few of the streets actually look like one. Like when we were walking in the piazza last night, 2 cars just came right through the middle of it, and people just kind of got out of the way. Very weird. Almost nothing is marked.
Also, apparently, the Piazza del Republica is a great hangout, with great food, and lots of entertainment. I know this because I could hear it all from our 5h story room last night. It wasn't like drunken, rowdy, annoying noise, just enough Italian singing to keep you awake.
Late evening in Firenze
I'm waiting for mom to get out of the shower, and listening to about 3 different performers down in the piazza through our open window. It's really cool when you're not trying to sleep.
We trecked all around the city with bags of dirty laundry with the MacMurphys looking for the laundromat, which we found, and thank God, cleaned our clothes. Mom and I left Aimee to watch the clothes with some other people from the choir while we went back to the open-air market that I got the rest of my gifts at to shop a little more. We bargained more, and decided more, and found good stuff.
We got back to the hotel for a little breather, and I was able to facebook chat Nick for about 45 minutes, which was nice. The internet connection was taking a long time for some reason, so it was more like a 25 minute conversation, rather than a 45 minute one, but it was still good. After that, our family and Tiffany decided to try to find a particular bridge that is famous because it's the only one the Nazi's didn't blow up on their way through Italy, for whatever reason. We found it, looked at it, and then crossed it to find something to eat. We stopped at a little grocery store, and Dad picked out a very typical meal for our family: wheat bagel-bite things, and a tub of cream cheese. Our family can put away some cheese, I'm telling you. We ate it on a stone wall overlooking the big river in Florence, then ran into another group of our people on the way home, and got cheap but delicious gelato (Aimee's third of the day, by the way.)
We have to be checked out by 10:30 tomorrow, and I have no idea what kind of internet situation it will be in Spoleto, so I'll try to post this last little bit I've written tomorrow before we leave. It makes me happy to know that at least a few people are interested in my trip and me, and reading this. I love you few people :)
Ok, the shower's mine. More tomorrow. Home has nevr looked so good :)
Friday, July 31, 2009
Italia!
Flight to Venice
I've never felt apprehensive while flying before, but on our takeoff today, we were in such turbulence on the whole accent, that I literally felt like we were about to fall out of the sky. A little scary.
I had my mid-trip blues yesterday, being tired of the whole travel thing and ready to come home. Maybe I was just in England too long, because strangely, I was really ready to leave Canterbury today. I don't know the why or wherefore of that, but I was. I'm a little scared about Italy, but I'd still rather be there than still in england.
We got all kinds of instructions on the bus about how to keep safe in Venice. About the different groups who specialize in snatching shoulder bags, about in being one of the easiest cities in the world to get lost in because there are no street signs (and hardly and streets for that matter), about the men that you have to be careful to show no interest in or else “something bad will happen...” I guess we all know what that means. That, with the language barrier already making me uncomfortable, was enough to make me incredibly worried and a little frightened too, again, bring out the little girl in me. I guess we'll see.
And we're totally flying about the Alps at the moment, the first time I've ever seen them. Peaks and valleys, all jagged and precipitous, and unbelievably beautiful. They're spilling out into the horizon, and the snow looks incredibly soft on the peaks, laying on them like powdered sugar. The clouds are hovering around about the half-way point of the peaks. Below are huge bodies of water ranging muddy teal, to azure, to dark navy where the mountains are casting shadows, the fjords I think. And then there are the ones that are glowing radiant gold in the sun. Put simply, it's awe-inspiring.
We did have our first official airport adventure though. Aimee has a pretty hefty pocket knife that she keeps with her most of the time, and today she forgot to put it in with her checked bag. We waited through endless lines of security screening, watching people get stopped, and patted down, and checked...so often in our line that mom and dad were through way before Aimee and I had even gotten to put our bags on the rolly-things table. As it turns out, Aimee had left the knife in her bag she was wanting to carry on, and they pulled her and the bag, and said they needed to search it. I was right behind her so I stayed with her. The lady (who seemed pretty self-important and very aware of her authority) pulled out the knife they'd seen on the x-ray. She was asking Aimee about the knife, when she opened it, and it clicked into the locked position. All of a sudden, she got really upset and was like, “How do you close this knife?!” We figured it was going to be a problem, but that they would just confiscate it and we'd be on our way. The she pulled the shocker, “This is a locking knife and that it is illegal in Great Briton! You do realize that you've committed a criminal offense, and that we're going to have to call the police.”
Well then.
It was pretty scary. And that woman was making it even worse. I was scared they'd come out, arrest and cuff Aimee for something she didn't know she'd done, and out would go our trip to Italy. The airport police showed up, all carrying their G36E rifles, which was incredibly intimidating. Turns out they were really nice, and probably realized that she and I weren't terrorists trying to infiltrate the airport. I was able to stay with her while they questioned her, and be her “adult presence,” signing paperwork with her and stuff. Of all people for that to happen to, she was the perfect one, knowing what they were doing, and not being flustered by it. Although we were both a little scared it was going to be a much, much bigger problem than we thought. Overall, it turned out fine, but it was very unnerving.
The captain just announce 15 minutes until landing, so I'm going to stash the computer for now. I'm going to Italy.
Don Orione Hotel, Venice Italy
Today's going to be a pretty full day, but I have a few minutes before breakfast. Getting into the airport was all fine and dandy, the guy barely even looked at me or my passport before nodding me through. No one's luggage was lost, and even though we had to wait for half our group to get back from the bathroom, we finally got everything together and left the airport.
We had almost a 10 minute walk to get to the water taxis. The boat we went in was a beautiful, deep- wooded speed boat, which held 10 passengers, and all luggage. It took about 30 minutes to get to the stop our for our hotel, and it was a beautiful ride.
The smell here reminds me of home, the sea, and mud, and algae on stone, and it makes me miss it even more, but also feel like it's a little closer. Our hotel used to be a monastery, but was converted, and is now a very nice place to stay. The ceilings are about 13 feet high, the floors are all tile and echo-y, and we have four twin beds in a row to signify a quad room. If you open the big, wooden shutter on our window, it looks out over a courtyard, and then over the riverfront houses to the main canal. It's really beautiful here.
Once we got checked in, we walked down to the water and bought gelato and ate it sitting on the wall next to the river, looking out at all the reflecting light on the black water.
Today we're all getting down to breakfast at 7:30, in order to be finished in time for our 8 o'clock rehearsal. Mara Brockbank, a lady from our church who apparently is an expert in Venetian history, is giving a us a walking tour around the city, then we have a tour of St. Marco's Basilica before we sing evening mass there.
Which is pretty cool.
Post-breakfast, pre-rehearsal
It's weird to be back in the choir with the older girls who just joined us now. For some reason, I honestly don't now why, they all have decided to hate Aimee and I. Like today, we went down for breakfast and put our folders down on the table that one of the girl's folder was on, and then went and got in the breakfast line. I happened to glance across the room and saw that girl look to see who's names were on the folder, get really angry when she saw they were ours, and say something really “animatedly” for lack of a better word to the group at the next table. They all laughed and rearranged the table so could sit with them, and she moved all her breakfast stuff over there.
It's funny how little things like that, from people I'm not really even that good of friends with still sting.
It's back into high school.
Train station; Venice to Florence
It is so hot. Unbelievably, swelteringly hot. After breakfast yesterday, we had a rehearsal for the mass we were singing at San Marco's that evening. Mr. Cross made an announcement the evening before saying we would have a rehearsal from 8 to 8:50, then a meeting, then have a free hour before our walking tour at 10. Yeah right. I've been with this choir long enough to know that we never use rehearsal time productively, and consequently, we never finish on time. We sang, and sang, and sang for nearly 2 hours, then had 5 minutes to get back to the room, get ready for the day, and walk all the way to Mara's hotel (which we didn't really know the way to).
The tour was okay. By the time we got there, I was already drenched in sweat, and all we did was wander around and look at few churches, which we could have done on our own anyway. After a while, my family broke off from the group and found lunch and our way back to the hotel on our own. We joined up with the MacMurphys to go back to Sam Marcos for our tour, and took a little sit-on-the-edge-of-a-boat-and-hold-on-for-dear-life water taxi, which was so fun. It's amazing to watch everyone navigate in the canals. They always come close, but never hit each other, at least that I've seen. And it's exactly how it looks in the movies, beautiful and colorful and vibrant and noisy and men in striped shirts rowing gondolas, and little old women begging in the streets, and fountains you can drink from standing in the squares.
The basilica was amazing, with the entire 5-domed ceiling and most of the walls covered in bible accounts and pictures, all in mosaic. It was incredible.
By the end of the tour, we were all exhausted from the heat and all the walking, so we made our way back to the hotel and napped for an hour before heading back into the heat for the mass. I nearly fainted during it because of the added heat of the robe, but it was incredible to hear our voice echoing through the building.
We decided to go to dinner with the MacMurphys, and after walking around until about 8, we found this little restaurant in an alley somewhere. It was amazing, as all food I've have here yet is. I've readied myself to gain a pound or two while I'm here, and be completely glad to do it. It's a sad life to come to Italy and not enjoy the food. I've decided to eat pizza at least once in every place we go to because I'm interested in seeing the variation from region to region.
After dinner, which lasted forever since we made friends with the manager who chatted with us for a while, we made our way home. We walked through the dimly lit streets, and the narrow alleys between buildings, and heard snatches of music as we passed intersecting streets. It was like something straight out of a storybook. Minus the sweat, of course.
Train to Florence
This choir is noisy. Unbelievably so. Our train, however, is really nice and spacious, although stuffy which will hopefully change, assuming that it will be air conditioned. We spent the morning riding the water bus all over the Grande Canal, and relatively cheap way to see Venice the way it was meant to be seen. Since there was a pretty heavy cloud cover, and a breeze from the water, it was not nearly as oppressively hot today as yesterday.
The water bus is pretty much like any regular bus service on land, noisy, dirty, minimalistic, and yet the beautiful surroundings take your mind away from it all. We sat outside the main cabin in the back of the boat, right above the engines, which when we were docking, sounded like they we about to either explode, or die. Near the end of our route, the boat started filling up, so more people starting crowding into the little spot where we were. This rather large woman squished up next to me, put her hand on the back of my seat, and her knee on on the edge of it, and settled in for the ride. After about 15 minutes, she turned around to face the other direction, and leaned her bag (which was covered with big wooden beads) into my back. I don't know if she was just oblivious, or if she really didn't care, but it was incredibly uncomfortable anyway.
When we made it back through the Grande Canal loop, we got off at the Academia
stop right next to our hotel to grab our bags and get back on the bus for the train station stop. We ate bread and fresh mozzarella and grapes with seeds in them, and M&M's on the ground outside the train station for lunch. The cheese was a little too fresh for me, so I didn't eat much, but it was an adventure anyhow. There was a fountain directly in front of where we were sitting, with birds in it, and algae all over it, and bird poop on it. I seriously saw multiple people wash their hands and faces in it, wash their feet in it, let their dogs drink from it, fill up water bottles in it, and basically do everything but pee it in, all amounting to me being totally disgusted.
Crap, Mr Cross has decided we're going to rehearse while on the train. Why does he do this? We don't even sing again until Sunday. Why do we have to do this in the the freakin train?????
Later on...still...
Unbelievable. I'm really not happy. Mr Cross ordered a parent's meeting, and had all 39 kids move to the cars that we only have 28 seats on, while all the parents stayed in the car we have all the seats in. When Aimee and I were lingering in the back of the car because all the kids were crowed into the other car and the in the little hall thing between cars, Mr Cross sort of yelled at us to leave because “we weren't allowed to be at the meeting.” Then as soon as Aimee and I walked all the way through the car we were in to get to the next one that was nearly empty, we stopped in a station and all kinds of new passengers started to take our seats, so everyone crowded back into the car trying to keep our seats, and people were freaking out, and being rude, and everything was crazy, and I'm overall just really offended at the way Mr Cross treated us, and how he just doesn't think things through. Really, how are 39 children supposed to fit in half a train car, and how are those same 39 children supposed to rehearse freaking music in a train car?
I'm just pretty much tired of these people. Ok, rephrase. Not of the place where we are necessarily, or the people themselves, but of the amount of people. I would absolutely love to be here with Nick, and just my family, but this group of 80+ people makes it miserable sometimes. This country is so beautiful and amazing and I can't wait to come back...alone. Or at least without a huge group of people. It's like a paradise, and I love it. I realized that today is the countdown week to the day we leave, so really, I only have 6 more days until we fly home. I am so ready. Except, that wight be crazy too. 80 people trying to navigate a Roman airport. Oh no...
And I was just moved 4 more times, because no one really knows what seats we have in the train, and people keep coming and saying they have these seats, and we don't speak the same language, and they're pissed off, and we're pissed off, and everyone's stressed. It's ridiculous.
That's why I generally hate traveling with any group bigger than about 10.
So far, the things I miss the most from home are 1) Nick, his family, and Mandie 2) SWEET TEA!! (I'm craving it all the time) 3) drink glasses that are bigger than a tumbler 4) ice in glasses (and consequently, cold drinks) 5) free refills 6) People who wear shirts in normal, public places 7) Air conditioning that really is air conditioning, not air that's a few degrees cooler than the outside air, and 8) no smoking in public places (I think I've breathed more smoke on this trip than in my entire life). 9) free water at restaurants. That's it, so far. Considering everything, it's not much, I guess.
And we now have just figured out that a meeting and rehearsal just won't work in this space. I could've told you that a long time ago.
Florence
Oh praise God, this hotel is amazing. Other than it all being on the 5th floor , with the only elevator being big enough to hold only one person with luggage (honestly, about 3' by 4'), it is amazing. It's all marble and beautifully decorated. Our room is furnished with what looks like antique cedar or oak furniture, it's spacious, the bathroom is all marble and is about 4 feet wide, but around 15 feet long, with a strange type of dais-thing with the toilet on it. Our huge window looks right out into the piazza and above the rooftops, you can see the hills. And there's free wireless. I am in heaven. This is wonderful. Definitely worth the 3 ½ hour train trip. This is a place a person could have a honeymoon.
Post-dinner
The piazza below our room is splendid after dark. Theres' a merry-go-round that's all lit up and beautiful, and there's a girl with an amazing voice singing while her husband is playing accordion, and it's all just wonderful. There's also every amazing kind of shopping right near the hotel, most of which is rather out of my price range (D&G, Louis Vitton, Prada, Bulgari, etc). It's basically like a dream about Italy.
We had quite the adventure during dinner. The waiter barely spoke English, they didn't have half the things we ordered from the menu, which we didn't find out until they brought us different dishes and explained that they didn't have what we ordered. Amusing, but at least it was relatively cheap.
Tomorrow, the plans are as follows: breakfast, rehearsal from 9 to 10 (hah...), tour of the Uffizi art gallery which I'm not sure what there that's important yet, and the Galleria dell' Accademia which has Michaelangelo's David statue. After that, we're free, so it's down to the shopping for my last gift. I love shopping for gifts. It's incredibly rewarding and fun to search for the perfect thing, and then actually find it. Every gift has been unique and it's own special story, so it's fun. Nick's is last. And, as of tonight, I know exactly where I'm shopping for it...
Love to all, thank God for free Wireless :)
I've never felt apprehensive while flying before, but on our takeoff today, we were in such turbulence on the whole accent, that I literally felt like we were about to fall out of the sky. A little scary.
I had my mid-trip blues yesterday, being tired of the whole travel thing and ready to come home. Maybe I was just in England too long, because strangely, I was really ready to leave Canterbury today. I don't know the why or wherefore of that, but I was. I'm a little scared about Italy, but I'd still rather be there than still in england.
We got all kinds of instructions on the bus about how to keep safe in Venice. About the different groups who specialize in snatching shoulder bags, about in being one of the easiest cities in the world to get lost in because there are no street signs (and hardly and streets for that matter), about the men that you have to be careful to show no interest in or else “something bad will happen...” I guess we all know what that means. That, with the language barrier already making me uncomfortable, was enough to make me incredibly worried and a little frightened too, again, bring out the little girl in me. I guess we'll see.
And we're totally flying about the Alps at the moment, the first time I've ever seen them. Peaks and valleys, all jagged and precipitous, and unbelievably beautiful. They're spilling out into the horizon, and the snow looks incredibly soft on the peaks, laying on them like powdered sugar. The clouds are hovering around about the half-way point of the peaks. Below are huge bodies of water ranging muddy teal, to azure, to dark navy where the mountains are casting shadows, the fjords I think. And then there are the ones that are glowing radiant gold in the sun. Put simply, it's awe-inspiring.
We did have our first official airport adventure though. Aimee has a pretty hefty pocket knife that she keeps with her most of the time, and today she forgot to put it in with her checked bag. We waited through endless lines of security screening, watching people get stopped, and patted down, and checked...so often in our line that mom and dad were through way before Aimee and I had even gotten to put our bags on the rolly-things table. As it turns out, Aimee had left the knife in her bag she was wanting to carry on, and they pulled her and the bag, and said they needed to search it. I was right behind her so I stayed with her. The lady (who seemed pretty self-important and very aware of her authority) pulled out the knife they'd seen on the x-ray. She was asking Aimee about the knife, when she opened it, and it clicked into the locked position. All of a sudden, she got really upset and was like, “How do you close this knife?!” We figured it was going to be a problem, but that they would just confiscate it and we'd be on our way. The she pulled the shocker, “This is a locking knife and that it is illegal in Great Briton! You do realize that you've committed a criminal offense, and that we're going to have to call the police.”
Well then.
It was pretty scary. And that woman was making it even worse. I was scared they'd come out, arrest and cuff Aimee for something she didn't know she'd done, and out would go our trip to Italy. The airport police showed up, all carrying their G36E rifles, which was incredibly intimidating. Turns out they were really nice, and probably realized that she and I weren't terrorists trying to infiltrate the airport. I was able to stay with her while they questioned her, and be her “adult presence,” signing paperwork with her and stuff. Of all people for that to happen to, she was the perfect one, knowing what they were doing, and not being flustered by it. Although we were both a little scared it was going to be a much, much bigger problem than we thought. Overall, it turned out fine, but it was very unnerving.
The captain just announce 15 minutes until landing, so I'm going to stash the computer for now. I'm going to Italy.
Don Orione Hotel, Venice Italy
Today's going to be a pretty full day, but I have a few minutes before breakfast. Getting into the airport was all fine and dandy, the guy barely even looked at me or my passport before nodding me through. No one's luggage was lost, and even though we had to wait for half our group to get back from the bathroom, we finally got everything together and left the airport.
We had almost a 10 minute walk to get to the water taxis. The boat we went in was a beautiful, deep- wooded speed boat, which held 10 passengers, and all luggage. It took about 30 minutes to get to the stop our for our hotel, and it was a beautiful ride.
The smell here reminds me of home, the sea, and mud, and algae on stone, and it makes me miss it even more, but also feel like it's a little closer. Our hotel used to be a monastery, but was converted, and is now a very nice place to stay. The ceilings are about 13 feet high, the floors are all tile and echo-y, and we have four twin beds in a row to signify a quad room. If you open the big, wooden shutter on our window, it looks out over a courtyard, and then over the riverfront houses to the main canal. It's really beautiful here.
Once we got checked in, we walked down to the water and bought gelato and ate it sitting on the wall next to the river, looking out at all the reflecting light on the black water.
Today we're all getting down to breakfast at 7:30, in order to be finished in time for our 8 o'clock rehearsal. Mara Brockbank, a lady from our church who apparently is an expert in Venetian history, is giving a us a walking tour around the city, then we have a tour of St. Marco's Basilica before we sing evening mass there.
Which is pretty cool.
Post-breakfast, pre-rehearsal
It's weird to be back in the choir with the older girls who just joined us now. For some reason, I honestly don't now why, they all have decided to hate Aimee and I. Like today, we went down for breakfast and put our folders down on the table that one of the girl's folder was on, and then went and got in the breakfast line. I happened to glance across the room and saw that girl look to see who's names were on the folder, get really angry when she saw they were ours, and say something really “animatedly” for lack of a better word to the group at the next table. They all laughed and rearranged the table so could sit with them, and she moved all her breakfast stuff over there.
It's funny how little things like that, from people I'm not really even that good of friends with still sting.
It's back into high school.
Train station; Venice to Florence
It is so hot. Unbelievably, swelteringly hot. After breakfast yesterday, we had a rehearsal for the mass we were singing at San Marco's that evening. Mr. Cross made an announcement the evening before saying we would have a rehearsal from 8 to 8:50, then a meeting, then have a free hour before our walking tour at 10. Yeah right. I've been with this choir long enough to know that we never use rehearsal time productively, and consequently, we never finish on time. We sang, and sang, and sang for nearly 2 hours, then had 5 minutes to get back to the room, get ready for the day, and walk all the way to Mara's hotel (which we didn't really know the way to).
The tour was okay. By the time we got there, I was already drenched in sweat, and all we did was wander around and look at few churches, which we could have done on our own anyway. After a while, my family broke off from the group and found lunch and our way back to the hotel on our own. We joined up with the MacMurphys to go back to Sam Marcos for our tour, and took a little sit-on-the-edge-of-a-boat-and-hold-on-for-dear-life water taxi, which was so fun. It's amazing to watch everyone navigate in the canals. They always come close, but never hit each other, at least that I've seen. And it's exactly how it looks in the movies, beautiful and colorful and vibrant and noisy and men in striped shirts rowing gondolas, and little old women begging in the streets, and fountains you can drink from standing in the squares.
The basilica was amazing, with the entire 5-domed ceiling and most of the walls covered in bible accounts and pictures, all in mosaic. It was incredible.
By the end of the tour, we were all exhausted from the heat and all the walking, so we made our way back to the hotel and napped for an hour before heading back into the heat for the mass. I nearly fainted during it because of the added heat of the robe, but it was incredible to hear our voice echoing through the building.
We decided to go to dinner with the MacMurphys, and after walking around until about 8, we found this little restaurant in an alley somewhere. It was amazing, as all food I've have here yet is. I've readied myself to gain a pound or two while I'm here, and be completely glad to do it. It's a sad life to come to Italy and not enjoy the food. I've decided to eat pizza at least once in every place we go to because I'm interested in seeing the variation from region to region.
After dinner, which lasted forever since we made friends with the manager who chatted with us for a while, we made our way home. We walked through the dimly lit streets, and the narrow alleys between buildings, and heard snatches of music as we passed intersecting streets. It was like something straight out of a storybook. Minus the sweat, of course.
Train to Florence
This choir is noisy. Unbelievably so. Our train, however, is really nice and spacious, although stuffy which will hopefully change, assuming that it will be air conditioned. We spent the morning riding the water bus all over the Grande Canal, and relatively cheap way to see Venice the way it was meant to be seen. Since there was a pretty heavy cloud cover, and a breeze from the water, it was not nearly as oppressively hot today as yesterday.
The water bus is pretty much like any regular bus service on land, noisy, dirty, minimalistic, and yet the beautiful surroundings take your mind away from it all. We sat outside the main cabin in the back of the boat, right above the engines, which when we were docking, sounded like they we about to either explode, or die. Near the end of our route, the boat started filling up, so more people starting crowding into the little spot where we were. This rather large woman squished up next to me, put her hand on the back of my seat, and her knee on on the edge of it, and settled in for the ride. After about 15 minutes, she turned around to face the other direction, and leaned her bag (which was covered with big wooden beads) into my back. I don't know if she was just oblivious, or if she really didn't care, but it was incredibly uncomfortable anyway.
When we made it back through the Grande Canal loop, we got off at the Academia
stop right next to our hotel to grab our bags and get back on the bus for the train station stop. We ate bread and fresh mozzarella and grapes with seeds in them, and M&M's on the ground outside the train station for lunch. The cheese was a little too fresh for me, so I didn't eat much, but it was an adventure anyhow. There was a fountain directly in front of where we were sitting, with birds in it, and algae all over it, and bird poop on it. I seriously saw multiple people wash their hands and faces in it, wash their feet in it, let their dogs drink from it, fill up water bottles in it, and basically do everything but pee it in, all amounting to me being totally disgusted.
Crap, Mr Cross has decided we're going to rehearse while on the train. Why does he do this? We don't even sing again until Sunday. Why do we have to do this in the the freakin train?????
Later on...still...
Unbelievable. I'm really not happy. Mr Cross ordered a parent's meeting, and had all 39 kids move to the cars that we only have 28 seats on, while all the parents stayed in the car we have all the seats in. When Aimee and I were lingering in the back of the car because all the kids were crowed into the other car and the in the little hall thing between cars, Mr Cross sort of yelled at us to leave because “we weren't allowed to be at the meeting.” Then as soon as Aimee and I walked all the way through the car we were in to get to the next one that was nearly empty, we stopped in a station and all kinds of new passengers started to take our seats, so everyone crowded back into the car trying to keep our seats, and people were freaking out, and being rude, and everything was crazy, and I'm overall just really offended at the way Mr Cross treated us, and how he just doesn't think things through. Really, how are 39 children supposed to fit in half a train car, and how are those same 39 children supposed to rehearse freaking music in a train car?
I'm just pretty much tired of these people. Ok, rephrase. Not of the place where we are necessarily, or the people themselves, but of the amount of people. I would absolutely love to be here with Nick, and just my family, but this group of 80+ people makes it miserable sometimes. This country is so beautiful and amazing and I can't wait to come back...alone. Or at least without a huge group of people. It's like a paradise, and I love it. I realized that today is the countdown week to the day we leave, so really, I only have 6 more days until we fly home. I am so ready. Except, that wight be crazy too. 80 people trying to navigate a Roman airport. Oh no...
And I was just moved 4 more times, because no one really knows what seats we have in the train, and people keep coming and saying they have these seats, and we don't speak the same language, and they're pissed off, and we're pissed off, and everyone's stressed. It's ridiculous.
That's why I generally hate traveling with any group bigger than about 10.
So far, the things I miss the most from home are 1) Nick, his family, and Mandie 2) SWEET TEA!! (I'm craving it all the time) 3) drink glasses that are bigger than a tumbler 4) ice in glasses (and consequently, cold drinks) 5) free refills 6) People who wear shirts in normal, public places 7) Air conditioning that really is air conditioning, not air that's a few degrees cooler than the outside air, and 8) no smoking in public places (I think I've breathed more smoke on this trip than in my entire life). 9) free water at restaurants. That's it, so far. Considering everything, it's not much, I guess.
And we now have just figured out that a meeting and rehearsal just won't work in this space. I could've told you that a long time ago.
Florence
Oh praise God, this hotel is amazing. Other than it all being on the 5th floor , with the only elevator being big enough to hold only one person with luggage (honestly, about 3' by 4'), it is amazing. It's all marble and beautifully decorated. Our room is furnished with what looks like antique cedar or oak furniture, it's spacious, the bathroom is all marble and is about 4 feet wide, but around 15 feet long, with a strange type of dais-thing with the toilet on it. Our huge window looks right out into the piazza and above the rooftops, you can see the hills. And there's free wireless. I am in heaven. This is wonderful. Definitely worth the 3 ½ hour train trip. This is a place a person could have a honeymoon.
Post-dinner
The piazza below our room is splendid after dark. Theres' a merry-go-round that's all lit up and beautiful, and there's a girl with an amazing voice singing while her husband is playing accordion, and it's all just wonderful. There's also every amazing kind of shopping right near the hotel, most of which is rather out of my price range (D&G, Louis Vitton, Prada, Bulgari, etc). It's basically like a dream about Italy.
We had quite the adventure during dinner. The waiter barely spoke English, they didn't have half the things we ordered from the menu, which we didn't find out until they brought us different dishes and explained that they didn't have what we ordered. Amusing, but at least it was relatively cheap.
Tomorrow, the plans are as follows: breakfast, rehearsal from 9 to 10 (hah...), tour of the Uffizi art gallery which I'm not sure what there that's important yet, and the Galleria dell' Accademia which has Michaelangelo's David statue. After that, we're free, so it's down to the shopping for my last gift. I love shopping for gifts. It's incredibly rewarding and fun to search for the perfect thing, and then actually find it. Every gift has been unique and it's own special story, so it's fun. Nick's is last. And, as of tonight, I know exactly where I'm shopping for it...
Love to all, thank God for free Wireless :)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Last da y of Canterbury
Canterbury, 10:00 pm
I just had my best day of the trip so far. After breakfast, mom and I spent the morning walking together and shopping, just doing whatever we wanted really. There are an inordinate amount of both hair salons and thrift stores here in Canterbury. I mean it. I found 3 salons on one street. I was very pleased with myself for finding 2 cute pairs of shoes, and one adorable dress at a thrift shop, all for 5 pounds. I am the ninja of shoppers. I found a few more gifts here as I had hoped, but there are still more to go.
After stopping back at our rooms to change out our laundry (the entire first floor smells like detergent because we've all been doing laundry like crazy people, since it's free), we walked back through the center of town to one of the pubs and had tea together, which was lovely. I happened to spot dad walking through the streets as we were eating, and we whistled at him to come just us, which he did. He had spent the morning in the cathedral archives; he was a happy man.
After tea, mom and I continued our shopping together, although we didn't get anything then. It was just so fun to walk around and be together since we both love this so much. After Aimee got out of rehearsal, we all walked over the the cathedral for Evensong. For those who don't know what Evensong is, it's an ancient Christian service that takes place in the evening. It's a short, quiet, beautiful service mainly geared, in my opinion, to reflection and quiet rest. There's always the same order of music sung by the choir, usually the Preces and Responses (a set sung phrases and responses, ie “Lord, show Thy mercy upon us. And grant us Thy salvation”), a Psalm setting, the Magnificat and Nunc Dimitis (Mary's and Simeon's songs of praise), an anthem, and a hymn. It's my favorite service of all, the one I can connect the most with.
I hadn't been in the cathedral yet since we had arrived, so the minute I walked through the massive doors and saw the beautiful vastness of space open up above me, my heart thrilled. We walked through the huge nave, up and stone stairs beneath the central tower, and through the intricate wooden and marble screen that houses the organ and separates the nave from the quire and chancel. The service was to take place on the quire, and as I sat down in the three rising rows of wooden pews, I marveled at the fact that I felt like I was coming back to a place a knew well.
Space is the biggest impression you get when you first enter the cathedral, but the longer you're there, the more you become sensitive to the unbelievable intricacy of it's craftsmanship. I sat completely still and just stared around me; millions of glass fragments, set in windows that were glowing in the sun; beautiful, intricate designs that look like the simply blossomed out of the solid stone they're made of; gold, painted stone, unbelievable beauty and grandeur everywhere. It's indescribable, and unbelievably wonderful.
As the choir sang the first notes of that familiar services, tears sprang to my eyes, and stayed there pretty much for the rest of the service. To take part in the service, and to know that these words have been said and sung here in this very place every night for over a thousand years was humbling and awe-inspiring, like having an amazing facet of knowledge, that's reward is simply knowing that you have it. I don't know if that will make sense to anyone else, maybe it's too personal to describe.
I worshiped more completely in that moment and time than I have had the privilege to in a long time. I felt refreshed, and loved, and beautiful, and rested, all at the same time. The presence of God does that to me.
After the service, we joined up with another family for dinner. They took us to an Indian restaurant call Kashmir, and I think it was some of the most amazing food I've ever had. I'd never had Indian before. I am now a convert.
So basically, that was my wonderful day, completely and perfectly unique to Rebecca Turner.
One week down today.
Day 8, last day in Canterbury
Today has been a pretty quiet day so far. At breakfast, the head of King's College School where we are staying came and spoke to us for a few minutes about the building we were eating in and the history of the place. I found that Augustine had this hall built as his residence while they built the enormous abbey just next to it. That was about 500 AD, which is pretty staggering. Then King Henry the VIII came along and burnt down the abbey, and used the hall where we ate as a small palace, and Charles the I and II stayed here, as well as Queen Elizabeth I.
Mom, dad and I also walked over to see St. Martin's church, which is the oldest place of continuing Christian worship in Great Britain. Kind Ethelbert built it for his wife who was a Christian, and then invited Augustine to come and build the abbey. It's incredible to see thousand year old history just standing in front of you like that.
Today we have our tour of the cathedral then the choir us giving a private (as in, no one else in the cathedral) concert for the parents, which is pretty unheard of, something that can only be arranged when you're working with the Choirmaster of the cathedral himself.
Mom, dad and I are going to do some shopping then stop for a glass of wine and maybe some lunch together since Aimee is going shopping with a few of her friends in the choir. I'm taking full advantage of being of drinking age here. It's fun to be able to order a glass of wine when I want it.
I think today at the pub may be the last time I'll have internet access before I find it somewhere in Venice once we get there. I'm a little home sick but ready for a new adventure. I've never been somewhere I haven't known the language and it intimidates me a little. But we'll see.
My dearest love to all.
I just had my best day of the trip so far. After breakfast, mom and I spent the morning walking together and shopping, just doing whatever we wanted really. There are an inordinate amount of both hair salons and thrift stores here in Canterbury. I mean it. I found 3 salons on one street. I was very pleased with myself for finding 2 cute pairs of shoes, and one adorable dress at a thrift shop, all for 5 pounds. I am the ninja of shoppers. I found a few more gifts here as I had hoped, but there are still more to go.
After stopping back at our rooms to change out our laundry (the entire first floor smells like detergent because we've all been doing laundry like crazy people, since it's free), we walked back through the center of town to one of the pubs and had tea together, which was lovely. I happened to spot dad walking through the streets as we were eating, and we whistled at him to come just us, which he did. He had spent the morning in the cathedral archives; he was a happy man.
After tea, mom and I continued our shopping together, although we didn't get anything then. It was just so fun to walk around and be together since we both love this so much. After Aimee got out of rehearsal, we all walked over the the cathedral for Evensong. For those who don't know what Evensong is, it's an ancient Christian service that takes place in the evening. It's a short, quiet, beautiful service mainly geared, in my opinion, to reflection and quiet rest. There's always the same order of music sung by the choir, usually the Preces and Responses (a set sung phrases and responses, ie “Lord, show Thy mercy upon us. And grant us Thy salvation”), a Psalm setting, the Magnificat and Nunc Dimitis (Mary's and Simeon's songs of praise), an anthem, and a hymn. It's my favorite service of all, the one I can connect the most with.
I hadn't been in the cathedral yet since we had arrived, so the minute I walked through the massive doors and saw the beautiful vastness of space open up above me, my heart thrilled. We walked through the huge nave, up and stone stairs beneath the central tower, and through the intricate wooden and marble screen that houses the organ and separates the nave from the quire and chancel. The service was to take place on the quire, and as I sat down in the three rising rows of wooden pews, I marveled at the fact that I felt like I was coming back to a place a knew well.
Space is the biggest impression you get when you first enter the cathedral, but the longer you're there, the more you become sensitive to the unbelievable intricacy of it's craftsmanship. I sat completely still and just stared around me; millions of glass fragments, set in windows that were glowing in the sun; beautiful, intricate designs that look like the simply blossomed out of the solid stone they're made of; gold, painted stone, unbelievable beauty and grandeur everywhere. It's indescribable, and unbelievably wonderful.
As the choir sang the first notes of that familiar services, tears sprang to my eyes, and stayed there pretty much for the rest of the service. To take part in the service, and to know that these words have been said and sung here in this very place every night for over a thousand years was humbling and awe-inspiring, like having an amazing facet of knowledge, that's reward is simply knowing that you have it. I don't know if that will make sense to anyone else, maybe it's too personal to describe.
I worshiped more completely in that moment and time than I have had the privilege to in a long time. I felt refreshed, and loved, and beautiful, and rested, all at the same time. The presence of God does that to me.
After the service, we joined up with another family for dinner. They took us to an Indian restaurant call Kashmir, and I think it was some of the most amazing food I've ever had. I'd never had Indian before. I am now a convert.
So basically, that was my wonderful day, completely and perfectly unique to Rebecca Turner.
One week down today.
Day 8, last day in Canterbury
Today has been a pretty quiet day so far. At breakfast, the head of King's College School where we are staying came and spoke to us for a few minutes about the building we were eating in and the history of the place. I found that Augustine had this hall built as his residence while they built the enormous abbey just next to it. That was about 500 AD, which is pretty staggering. Then King Henry the VIII came along and burnt down the abbey, and used the hall where we ate as a small palace, and Charles the I and II stayed here, as well as Queen Elizabeth I.
Mom, dad and I also walked over to see St. Martin's church, which is the oldest place of continuing Christian worship in Great Britain. Kind Ethelbert built it for his wife who was a Christian, and then invited Augustine to come and build the abbey. It's incredible to see thousand year old history just standing in front of you like that.
Today we have our tour of the cathedral then the choir us giving a private (as in, no one else in the cathedral) concert for the parents, which is pretty unheard of, something that can only be arranged when you're working with the Choirmaster of the cathedral himself.
Mom, dad and I are going to do some shopping then stop for a glass of wine and maybe some lunch together since Aimee is going shopping with a few of her friends in the choir. I'm taking full advantage of being of drinking age here. It's fun to be able to order a glass of wine when I want it.
I think today at the pub may be the last time I'll have internet access before I find it somewhere in Venice once we get there. I'm a little home sick but ready for a new adventure. I've never been somewhere I haven't known the language and it intimidates me a little. But we'll see.
My dearest love to all.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Post 2 from England
Second Day in London
After I posted that last entry, everything basically went downhill. When I'm tired, I have a very fine line between still being able to function and hold myself together, and breaking down completely, and instantly transforming onto a 3 year old who missed her nap. We all fell into bed, and not even the screaming police sirens bothered me for the next 10 hours.
Britain doesn't have have rooms designed for 4 people to be in, so our room is a queen bed, a couch thing made into a bed, and something that feels like a set of box springs covered with a sheet on the floor. To my sadness, I found out last night that particular bed is much more comfortable after I'd been awake for 38 hours. Since Aimee happened to pick the more comfortable bed, we decided that I get dibs in Canterbury when we move there on Sunday.
We started out early yesterday morning to make our way through the tube station to get to Westminster pier where we were meeting our boat to Greenwich. The subway is wonderful, and crazy. I've never really had much experience with it so I was really unsure of myself at first, but now that I've acclimated my self, I love using it.
Once we finally got the whole group to the pier (which took awhile as most people were late coming down to meet in the hotel lobby, which drives me bonkers), we boarded the boat (after waiting for the next one, since we missed the first one, sans the late people) and headed down the Thames.
My first amusing experience took place in that boat.
I can now officially say I was hit on in London.
It actually was a pretty funny story, but the kind that, once it's written down, loses all element of humor. All I can say is that he was our tour guide/captain, and quite bold and persistent. Quite amusing.
We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon at Greenwich; we wandered around the Royal Navy College. The only parts that were open to the public were the chapel and the “Painted Hall” which was a dining hall where every surface was frescoed. After that, we climbed (literally) up a very tall hill to the Royal Observatory, and the place where the prime meridian is marked. It was cool, but not necessarily worth the amount of people there. Around 3 we headed back to the pier to wait for the boat. Turns out that we ended up back on the same boat with the dude who hit on me, which I thought to be a weirdly ironic. He didn't say anything else to me, which was smart of him.
Once we got back to the dock, we decided to go see a show. I really wanted to see Wicked, but as it's still the world's #1 selling show, I was pretty stupid to think we night be able to get day-of tickets. We ended up seeing Oliver!, the sets and lighting were spectacular, although the voices were a little weak. Except the kid playing the Artful Dodger. He was awesome.
Day 4 of London
I ventured out on my own today, proving to myself that I'm a very big girl. I've never been in a big city, and they frighten me a little. But I was fine, no one picked my pocket or tried to catch me, so everything was lovely, and I felt very proud of myself.
This morning, Aimee, Bekah Baird and I had our token traditional English breakfast, while mom and dad left early to scope out the British Library. Mom came hurrying back to the room saying that the library was really, really cool, and we should all come.
It was amazing.
I saw original, handwritten manuscripts by Mozart, Beethoven, Hayden, Elgar, Purcell, and Jane Austin's Persuasion. And the Magna Carta. And the Codis Sinacticus.I wanted to cry. It was unbelievable.
Dad was in absolute heaven; he actually got a library card, and he spent the rest of the day there, looking at and studying original copies of the Tyndale and Erasmus bibles that he never thought he'd ever be able to even see, let alone handle and study. It made my heart ridiculously happy.
While we were there, I decided that I wanted to go to the Tower of London after all, so we (minus dad, obviously) jumped back on the tube, with really no idea where we were going. We were told to get off the tube at London Bridge stop, but that ended up being quite a ways from the Tower, so we finally found the Thames, and just started walking down in until we ended up where we wanted to be. Turns out the lines were so ridiculously long, we didn't go. So much for that. It was an adventure anyway.
We're leaving London tomorrow for Canterbury, and I'm really looking forward to having some quiet time on the bus to really write about these last few days. Now in our room there's either the TV on (we're watching Flipper at the moment; British TV sucks), or Aimee and Bekah playing rowdy games of cards, or other noisy things, and I can't concentrate. Ah well, tomorrow...
Day 5, leaving London for Canterbury
Right now, I am extremely annoyed. The only place I can get free wireless is here at the British Library, and for some reason, it's “having difficulties” today. Crap, and double crap.
I'm so glad we're leaving London today. I don't like huge cities, and deafening crowds, and dirty, cramped places. Being in Canterbury will be like a breath of fresh air before the crowd and confusion of Italy.
Being on the tube is a completely surreal experience, especially like last night, when it's 11 o'clock on a Saturday night. Everything glows kind of strangely in the lights, and the sound is both muffled and amplified at the same time in the tile-domed tunnels. There are musicians in random intersections down there, and the sounds carry for unbelievable distances through the maze of tunnels. One thing I will say for the tube though, is that it's incredibly well-marked. Basically, as long as you know the name of the place you're going, and the place you want to get back to, it's no problem finding your way around. The streets are a different story, however, with hardly any marking whatsoever. Ridiculous.
We tried to go to a concert at St. Martin In The Fields last night, but by the time we actually got the people that decided to come with us together, and finally found the place, there were no more tickets left. It took about an hour for all that, then took another hour or more for 7 people to decide where to eat, then another hour to get our food and eat. And then about 45 minutes to get home. It was epic.
I'm getting incredibly good at offensive walking. Basically, you keep one hand on your bag, the other free to ward off any objects in your way, your head down, and your eyes open, and forge ahead. Come what may, you keeping walking, bobbing and weaving between people, passing the ones too slow for you, and dodging the ones that want to run you over.
Crossing streets is an adventure too. Traffic barely ever stops; cars and taxis, and bikes, and bike-taxis, and double-decker buses, and extra-long buses, and mopeds all go as fast as they can from light to light. I had a guy in a bike-taxi almost run me over just for the fun of it. He looked back and laughed at me as he raced up the street. Jerk.
I had a very fun time while walking here to the library, standing pretty close to the edge of a crosswalk and feeling the force of the displaced air push me back as a double-decker bus sped by. I'm not as dumb as the guy doing that with the subway though...
There's no such thing as personal space here. I find it very disconcerting. I was sitting on one of the rare benches in the Euston subway station (which has become our hub-station) and a lady and her son came and stood next to me, trying to dig change out of their pockets for the restrooms (another thing I find disconcerting, having to pay for a place to pee), and her back, coat, and bag were literally 3 inches from my face. It was weird.
It made me think about the strange, understood barriers we have at home. There is a very distinct personal space/distanc when you're with a group or person, or when you're not with a group or person, just happening to be standing next to them. That does not exist here. It's a pushy, noisy, free-for-all, not-even-occurring-to-me-that-I'm-all-up-in-your-business kind of place.
But even with all that, it's interesting. I'm not used to hearing a different language for every person I pass. And other thing, I've started thinking in a British accent, and it's driving me insane. My brain has started filtering through all the sounds around me, trying to find the people with American accents, just so I can hear something familiar.
I'm not crying-myself-to-sleep homesick yet, but I am definitely missing home...
Bus to Canterbury
I must say, I”m already tired of all these people that we're traveling with. This is very sad, as I've hardly spent any time with them, and half of them aren't here yet. It's probably just because I don't really know any of them well, and they all know each other well. That's fine with me. I'm not a huge social butterfly. I like having the small group of people that I really care about, and being able to give all my social time and attention to them, and not worry about splitting it over a vast group of people. I guess that's one way I've changed. It used to bug me, not having tons of friends, but now I enjoy it, and deeply value and love the ones I have.
I'm feeling tired and uninspired. I think I'll go back to reading for awhile.
Post “awhile” reading
I wish we had the beautiful, wooded hills here. They're so verdant and lush, with fields tucked around little farms, and pastures for horses, and little gardens right by the highway; it's so English. It gives my soul the same stillness and rest that the rivers do at home. But...I miss the expanses of waving marsh grass, and seeing the sun set over the water. I miss home.
Canterbury, England
I feel almost like I'm home. As impossible as is seems, when were getting off the bus, and I looked over my shoulder to see the vastness of the cathedral rising over the rooftops of the town, I shivered with excitement for the first time. This is so much better than London. London was big and bewildering, Canterbury is familiar and beautiful. I love this town, with it's random pieces of ancient walls sticking up up out of the ground in random places. It makes me feel restful to know these stones have been here for over a thousand years, that storms, people, not even wars have managed to obliterate it entirely.
I could not be more pleased with my room here. We are staying in the King's College School dorms, although from the outside they look more like quaint little lodges...very English. I have my own room, which I'm praising God for. Overall, my family is incredibly easy to live with, but after 4 days in one hotel room, I was ready for my own space. I have a tiny little dorm room, just big enough for my bed, a desk, a standing closet, 2 little sets of drawers, and (best of all) my own sink and mirror. In my room! Unbelievable riches. I even have the “toilet” around the corner and the “shower” across the hall.
That's another funny thing. Running along every floor of the building are doors marked “shower” with a shower and a sink, “toilet” with a sink and toilet, and “bathroom” with a sink, shower, and toilet. I think that's incredibly smart in a dorm. Maybe all dorms are like that. I don't know.
I have a little window that folds out about 4 inches that looks out on a big grass field with a little garden on the ground beneath me. There are huge lavender plants there and I already went and picked some, whether I was supposed to or not. It smells heavenly.
We all went out to find dinner for ourselves before the kids first rehearsal with David Flood, who is totally non-gay, but had a man purse with him, which I thought was totally awesome. My family wandered around for a while and finally came on this quiet, really open-feeling pub, that was relatively cheap (especially compared to London) and delicious (meaning, it actually had flavor, unlike most British food). The two best things about it however, were that they have free Wi-fi (amazing and wonderful), and that since the drinking age here is 18, I ordered wine for myself for the first time. The guy didn't even card me. It was awesome. And yummy.
It seems funny that by age 19, I should feel at home in an ancient British cathedral town, 4000 miles from my home, but I do. The second I stepped off the bus, it was like my soul breathed a sigh of relief. Mom, dad and I walked through the town to go meet the choir post-rehearsal. It was perfect. I can't even describe how much I love it here. I don't know if you have to be here to experience it, or if it's just unique to me, but I love it. My walk gave me a nice preview of the shops and places to go.
So much to do tomorrow!
Day 6, Canterbury
It's pretty sad that my bed here in the dorms of the King's College School is more comfortable than my cot thing in London. Dad woke me up around 7:20 to get ready for breakfast which is served at 8 (in the oldest refectory [dining halls] in the England), which turned out to be awesome. There's also an amazing organist practicing in the chapel across the hall from us. It's all so surreal. And amazing. And wonderful.
It's wonderful to have my own room to sit in, and get ready this morning. Being over here is making me appreciate simple pleasures.
Dad has shoved about 8 pieces of fruit into my bag to to take back to our rooms for snacks, and I feel kind of like a bag lady, making me concluded that sometimes carrying a big bag all the time is good. Other times, you're the one that gets stuck carrying pilfered fruit from the dining hall.
It's misting rain here, kind of like the water fans they blow at you on hot days at amusement parks, which makes me glad I didn't do anything to my hair this morning except shove it all back in a clip. It's chilly, and I don't have many chilly clothes, but we're making do. Mom and I are planning to do some shopping this morning while the choir has it's second rehearsal, which I'm very excited about. I've only purchased one gift so far, and I'm hoping to find more things here where everything is more along the lines of me. I'm planning to stop at the pub we found that has Wi-fi and email a few people and post this while we're out. I'm so happy to be here.
Oh, and a correction to one of my first posts that my dad pointed out to me. On the plane, I was not 3112 miles above the ground, that would be feet. We ended up being somewhere around 16,000 feet up, but we were never close to 3000 miles up. Just thought I'd revise my statement as to not look like a total idiot.
Love to all!
After I posted that last entry, everything basically went downhill. When I'm tired, I have a very fine line between still being able to function and hold myself together, and breaking down completely, and instantly transforming onto a 3 year old who missed her nap. We all fell into bed, and not even the screaming police sirens bothered me for the next 10 hours.
Britain doesn't have have rooms designed for 4 people to be in, so our room is a queen bed, a couch thing made into a bed, and something that feels like a set of box springs covered with a sheet on the floor. To my sadness, I found out last night that particular bed is much more comfortable after I'd been awake for 38 hours. Since Aimee happened to pick the more comfortable bed, we decided that I get dibs in Canterbury when we move there on Sunday.
We started out early yesterday morning to make our way through the tube station to get to Westminster pier where we were meeting our boat to Greenwich. The subway is wonderful, and crazy. I've never really had much experience with it so I was really unsure of myself at first, but now that I've acclimated my self, I love using it.
Once we finally got the whole group to the pier (which took awhile as most people were late coming down to meet in the hotel lobby, which drives me bonkers), we boarded the boat (after waiting for the next one, since we missed the first one, sans the late people) and headed down the Thames.
My first amusing experience took place in that boat.
I can now officially say I was hit on in London.
It actually was a pretty funny story, but the kind that, once it's written down, loses all element of humor. All I can say is that he was our tour guide/captain, and quite bold and persistent. Quite amusing.
We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon at Greenwich; we wandered around the Royal Navy College. The only parts that were open to the public were the chapel and the “Painted Hall” which was a dining hall where every surface was frescoed. After that, we climbed (literally) up a very tall hill to the Royal Observatory, and the place where the prime meridian is marked. It was cool, but not necessarily worth the amount of people there. Around 3 we headed back to the pier to wait for the boat. Turns out that we ended up back on the same boat with the dude who hit on me, which I thought to be a weirdly ironic. He didn't say anything else to me, which was smart of him.
Once we got back to the dock, we decided to go see a show. I really wanted to see Wicked, but as it's still the world's #1 selling show, I was pretty stupid to think we night be able to get day-of tickets. We ended up seeing Oliver!, the sets and lighting were spectacular, although the voices were a little weak. Except the kid playing the Artful Dodger. He was awesome.
Day 4 of London
I ventured out on my own today, proving to myself that I'm a very big girl. I've never been in a big city, and they frighten me a little. But I was fine, no one picked my pocket or tried to catch me, so everything was lovely, and I felt very proud of myself.
This morning, Aimee, Bekah Baird and I had our token traditional English breakfast, while mom and dad left early to scope out the British Library. Mom came hurrying back to the room saying that the library was really, really cool, and we should all come.
It was amazing.
I saw original, handwritten manuscripts by Mozart, Beethoven, Hayden, Elgar, Purcell, and Jane Austin's Persuasion. And the Magna Carta. And the Codis Sinacticus.I wanted to cry. It was unbelievable.
Dad was in absolute heaven; he actually got a library card, and he spent the rest of the day there, looking at and studying original copies of the Tyndale and Erasmus bibles that he never thought he'd ever be able to even see, let alone handle and study. It made my heart ridiculously happy.
While we were there, I decided that I wanted to go to the Tower of London after all, so we (minus dad, obviously) jumped back on the tube, with really no idea where we were going. We were told to get off the tube at London Bridge stop, but that ended up being quite a ways from the Tower, so we finally found the Thames, and just started walking down in until we ended up where we wanted to be. Turns out the lines were so ridiculously long, we didn't go. So much for that. It was an adventure anyway.
We're leaving London tomorrow for Canterbury, and I'm really looking forward to having some quiet time on the bus to really write about these last few days. Now in our room there's either the TV on (we're watching Flipper at the moment; British TV sucks), or Aimee and Bekah playing rowdy games of cards, or other noisy things, and I can't concentrate. Ah well, tomorrow...
Day 5, leaving London for Canterbury
Right now, I am extremely annoyed. The only place I can get free wireless is here at the British Library, and for some reason, it's “having difficulties” today. Crap, and double crap.
I'm so glad we're leaving London today. I don't like huge cities, and deafening crowds, and dirty, cramped places. Being in Canterbury will be like a breath of fresh air before the crowd and confusion of Italy.
Being on the tube is a completely surreal experience, especially like last night, when it's 11 o'clock on a Saturday night. Everything glows kind of strangely in the lights, and the sound is both muffled and amplified at the same time in the tile-domed tunnels. There are musicians in random intersections down there, and the sounds carry for unbelievable distances through the maze of tunnels. One thing I will say for the tube though, is that it's incredibly well-marked. Basically, as long as you know the name of the place you're going, and the place you want to get back to, it's no problem finding your way around. The streets are a different story, however, with hardly any marking whatsoever. Ridiculous.
We tried to go to a concert at St. Martin In The Fields last night, but by the time we actually got the people that decided to come with us together, and finally found the place, there were no more tickets left. It took about an hour for all that, then took another hour or more for 7 people to decide where to eat, then another hour to get our food and eat. And then about 45 minutes to get home. It was epic.
I'm getting incredibly good at offensive walking. Basically, you keep one hand on your bag, the other free to ward off any objects in your way, your head down, and your eyes open, and forge ahead. Come what may, you keeping walking, bobbing and weaving between people, passing the ones too slow for you, and dodging the ones that want to run you over.
Crossing streets is an adventure too. Traffic barely ever stops; cars and taxis, and bikes, and bike-taxis, and double-decker buses, and extra-long buses, and mopeds all go as fast as they can from light to light. I had a guy in a bike-taxi almost run me over just for the fun of it. He looked back and laughed at me as he raced up the street. Jerk.
I had a very fun time while walking here to the library, standing pretty close to the edge of a crosswalk and feeling the force of the displaced air push me back as a double-decker bus sped by. I'm not as dumb as the guy doing that with the subway though...
There's no such thing as personal space here. I find it very disconcerting. I was sitting on one of the rare benches in the Euston subway station (which has become our hub-station) and a lady and her son came and stood next to me, trying to dig change out of their pockets for the restrooms (another thing I find disconcerting, having to pay for a place to pee), and her back, coat, and bag were literally 3 inches from my face. It was weird.
It made me think about the strange, understood barriers we have at home. There is a very distinct personal space/distanc when you're with a group or person, or when you're not with a group or person, just happening to be standing next to them. That does not exist here. It's a pushy, noisy, free-for-all, not-even-occurring-to-me-that-I'm-all-up-in-your-business kind of place.
But even with all that, it's interesting. I'm not used to hearing a different language for every person I pass. And other thing, I've started thinking in a British accent, and it's driving me insane. My brain has started filtering through all the sounds around me, trying to find the people with American accents, just so I can hear something familiar.
I'm not crying-myself-to-sleep homesick yet, but I am definitely missing home...
Bus to Canterbury
I must say, I”m already tired of all these people that we're traveling with. This is very sad, as I've hardly spent any time with them, and half of them aren't here yet. It's probably just because I don't really know any of them well, and they all know each other well. That's fine with me. I'm not a huge social butterfly. I like having the small group of people that I really care about, and being able to give all my social time and attention to them, and not worry about splitting it over a vast group of people. I guess that's one way I've changed. It used to bug me, not having tons of friends, but now I enjoy it, and deeply value and love the ones I have.
I'm feeling tired and uninspired. I think I'll go back to reading for awhile.
Post “awhile” reading
I wish we had the beautiful, wooded hills here. They're so verdant and lush, with fields tucked around little farms, and pastures for horses, and little gardens right by the highway; it's so English. It gives my soul the same stillness and rest that the rivers do at home. But...I miss the expanses of waving marsh grass, and seeing the sun set over the water. I miss home.
Canterbury, England
I feel almost like I'm home. As impossible as is seems, when were getting off the bus, and I looked over my shoulder to see the vastness of the cathedral rising over the rooftops of the town, I shivered with excitement for the first time. This is so much better than London. London was big and bewildering, Canterbury is familiar and beautiful. I love this town, with it's random pieces of ancient walls sticking up up out of the ground in random places. It makes me feel restful to know these stones have been here for over a thousand years, that storms, people, not even wars have managed to obliterate it entirely.
I could not be more pleased with my room here. We are staying in the King's College School dorms, although from the outside they look more like quaint little lodges...very English. I have my own room, which I'm praising God for. Overall, my family is incredibly easy to live with, but after 4 days in one hotel room, I was ready for my own space. I have a tiny little dorm room, just big enough for my bed, a desk, a standing closet, 2 little sets of drawers, and (best of all) my own sink and mirror. In my room! Unbelievable riches. I even have the “toilet” around the corner and the “shower” across the hall.
That's another funny thing. Running along every floor of the building are doors marked “shower” with a shower and a sink, “toilet” with a sink and toilet, and “bathroom” with a sink, shower, and toilet. I think that's incredibly smart in a dorm. Maybe all dorms are like that. I don't know.
I have a little window that folds out about 4 inches that looks out on a big grass field with a little garden on the ground beneath me. There are huge lavender plants there and I already went and picked some, whether I was supposed to or not. It smells heavenly.
We all went out to find dinner for ourselves before the kids first rehearsal with David Flood, who is totally non-gay, but had a man purse with him, which I thought was totally awesome. My family wandered around for a while and finally came on this quiet, really open-feeling pub, that was relatively cheap (especially compared to London) and delicious (meaning, it actually had flavor, unlike most British food). The two best things about it however, were that they have free Wi-fi (amazing and wonderful), and that since the drinking age here is 18, I ordered wine for myself for the first time. The guy didn't even card me. It was awesome. And yummy.
It seems funny that by age 19, I should feel at home in an ancient British cathedral town, 4000 miles from my home, but I do. The second I stepped off the bus, it was like my soul breathed a sigh of relief. Mom, dad and I walked through the town to go meet the choir post-rehearsal. It was perfect. I can't even describe how much I love it here. I don't know if you have to be here to experience it, or if it's just unique to me, but I love it. My walk gave me a nice preview of the shops and places to go.
So much to do tomorrow!
Day 6, Canterbury
It's pretty sad that my bed here in the dorms of the King's College School is more comfortable than my cot thing in London. Dad woke me up around 7:20 to get ready for breakfast which is served at 8 (in the oldest refectory [dining halls] in the England), which turned out to be awesome. There's also an amazing organist practicing in the chapel across the hall from us. It's all so surreal. And amazing. And wonderful.
It's wonderful to have my own room to sit in, and get ready this morning. Being over here is making me appreciate simple pleasures.
Dad has shoved about 8 pieces of fruit into my bag to to take back to our rooms for snacks, and I feel kind of like a bag lady, making me concluded that sometimes carrying a big bag all the time is good. Other times, you're the one that gets stuck carrying pilfered fruit from the dining hall.
It's misting rain here, kind of like the water fans they blow at you on hot days at amusement parks, which makes me glad I didn't do anything to my hair this morning except shove it all back in a clip. It's chilly, and I don't have many chilly clothes, but we're making do. Mom and I are planning to do some shopping this morning while the choir has it's second rehearsal, which I'm very excited about. I've only purchased one gift so far, and I'm hoping to find more things here where everything is more along the lines of me. I'm planning to stop at the pub we found that has Wi-fi and email a few people and post this while we're out. I'm so happy to be here.
Oh, and a correction to one of my first posts that my dad pointed out to me. On the plane, I was not 3112 miles above the ground, that would be feet. We ended up being somewhere around 16,000 feet up, but we were never close to 3000 miles up. Just thought I'd revise my statement as to not look like a total idiot.
Love to all!
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Trip Blog 1
Charleston to Atlanta, Atlanta to Adventure
Without even meaning to, I discovered a new song for my trip. It really explains everything I feel about it.
Electricity, Sir Elton John:
I can't really explain it,
I haven't got the words,
It's a feeling that you can't control.
I suppose it's like forgetting,
Losing who you are,
And at the same time, something makes you whole.
It's like that there's a music playing in your ear,
And I'm listening, and I'm listening,
And then I disappear.
And then I feel a change,
Like a fire deep inside
Something bursting me wide open, impossible to hide,
And suddenly I'm flying, flying like a bird,
Like electricity,
Sparks inside of me,
And I'm free, I'm free!
It's a bit like being angry, it's a bit like being scared,
Confused, all mixed up, and mad as hell,
It's like when you've been crying, and you're empty, and you're full,
I don't know what it is; it's hard to tell,
It's like that there's some music playing in your ear,
But the music is impossible, impossible to hear,
But then I feel it move me,
Like a fire deep inside,
Something bursting me wide open, impossible to hide,
And suddenly I'm flying, flying like a bird,
Like electricity,
Sparks inside of me,
And I'm free, I'm free!
I'm free.
6:52 pm
It's really happening now. I'm some 3112 miles above the earth, cruising at 548 mph, and approximately 7 hours from London. It still hasn't penetrated my mind yet. But that doesn't matter. It will eventually.
I was going to try to be really grow-up and calm and collected today when Nick dropped us off at the airport. After all, it's only for 19 days, I still can email and even call him on my dad's iPhone, I shouldn't need to cry.
That didn't happen. My lofty dreams at being cool and collected were definitely not realized. Of course, I wasn't sobbing my heart out, but I couldn't stop the few tears that came. But it's the first we've ever really been apart, and I don't care if it's childish.
So far, everything has been going smoothly as far as arrival and departure are concerned. The only little glitch was almost losing Mr. Cross before boarding for London. Having dodged that slight problem, everything else has been fine
.
Thank God I was able to get into the middle section of the plane. I'm not claustrophobic, I just really appreciate not having a ceiling one foot above my head for 7 hours. I like space. And even better, I have an open seat next to me, which I look on as God's little extra gift to me. I think the woman in the next seat thinks I stole her headphones though...
As far as food goes, airline travel has definitely been going down. On this flight we get one meal, and “a light snack” which consists of the smallest package of peanuts I've ever seen in my life. Ah, well.
8:21
Airline dinners are officially disgusting. I think maybe I'm glad we won't be getting breakfast.
This flight seems to be going by fast too. I've blogged a little, listened to my ipod a little (and watched some Step Up on it in honor of Channing Tatum and Jenna Dewan's wedding), watched about half of He's Just Not That Into You, and picked at a soggy meal. I haven't even pulled out the big guns: the novel of Wicked.
Maybe that's part of getting older, something I've noticed in the past year or two. Time passes really fast.
I happened to glance out the left-hand window next to me and saw an incredible sunset in the clouds somewhere off the Boston coast. A sunset is completely different viewed from the air, and very difficult to describe, so I won't try.
I popped some Benadryl few minutes ago, and I think it might be starting to work. I really hope it does. Last time I took it, I don't think anything happened...even decongesting. Plus, I'm interested to see how this movie finishes up. I'll be on land again in 5 hours and 16 minutes.
1:10 am, or 6:05 am depending on which time zone you want
Watching a chick-flick was not the smartest thing for me to do. Now I miss Nick more. I kinda dumb like that.
Turns out we do get breakfast. An egg--and-cheese-product on a biscuit that tasted pretty good, orange juice, a cold banana (which was unripe enough for me to like it, since I'm picky about bananas), and hot tea. Altogether, much better than dinner.
I'm trying to trick my body into the next time zone. I dozed for about and hour and a half and the sunrise outside, which is incredibly beautiful, is definitely helping the whole “pretending it's not 1 o'clock in the morning” thing. I've come to find out that there really is no comfortable way to sleep on a plane once you're adult-sized, except on business class flights to Sydney, India, and some other far away place where the seats fold down into beds, which is pretty sweet. Adds for that keep coming up on my little TV monitor, cleverly getting you to despise your own crampy seat and realize how much, much better off you'd be if you had only booked your flight in the business class and not in the last-class, as I used to call it.
Being on this flight is bring back all my old dreams of wanting to be a flight attendant when I grew up. I really think all I wanted were the cool outfits and the little wing pins they used to give out. It doesn't seem so glamorous now. It's funny to look at your dreams as a little girl with older eyes. I liked the way I thought then.
As we're beginning our descent into London, my ears are starting to go haywire, which continues to be my only problem with flying. I think our family's constant ear infection battle when I was little might be responsible for it. So far it's not too bad, but we'll see how I go as we get back closer to the earth.
This flight has not been bad at all. Except for the little kid screaming in front of me. I want to kick him.
London Gatwick A irport
The sleepiness is hitting. I just bought an orange juice and a coffee. Actually, I'm not really sure what it is as I never really drink the stuff, whether it's a cappuccino, espresso, or whatever, it is hopefully going to keep me awake through our tour of Windsor Castle on the way to our hotel in London. And it tastes really good. If a coffee thing has steamed milk in it I generally like it. I guess I'm a coffee softy; I'll drink the flavored stuff, just not the straight-up coffee.
Since we flew in over an hour and a half before our buses come, we're just hanging out in the airport waiting for other people in our group who came on different flights to join us, then get on our buses. Or coaches, if I want to be Britishly technical...
En Route to Windsor Castle Wednesday 9:00-ish am
Man this bus brings back memories. I vividly remember the first time I was ever on a bus in England on the first choir trip. At 10 years old, my hobby at that moment was making little animals by weaving beads on plastic cord stuff, and I was desperately crushing on Justin Buckley. I had shyly crept up to his seat and mustered the courage to sit and talk with him, probably the first ( and pretty much only) time I've hit on someone. Everything was going wonderfully until the driver hit the break, and my entire box of beads which I'd left for Angela Bedel to look at came crashing down from the back seat of the bus. I still vividly remember the conversation: Justin “What was that?” Me: (incredibly disconsolately) “My bead box...” So ended my happy Justin-conversation.
There were still beads rolling around on the floor at the end of the trip.
(Note for Nick, right now we're passing a whole field of Moo-cows)
I love this. Everything is fresh and different, and we just passed a really awesome Porsche convertible/rally car looking thing. I have no clue what it was, but at least I can identify the make of a car now. Nick has really rubbed off on me.
Post Windsor Castle
I am officially exhausted. We all are. The castle was amazing; when I looked down in the chapel and realized I was standing on the graves of King Henry VIII and Jane Seymour, my head spun for a moment. It was hard to comprehend.
After that, the tiredness really hit me (as well as the blisters from my shoes) and I got pretty grouchy. And a little whiny. That happens when I overtired, and I hate it, but sometimes I don't even have the will to help it. I guess in that way I'm still a very little girl.
We stopped at a little pub for lunch, and I found out another thing: I pretty much hate being a “tourist.” Being with all the flocking throngs of people, doing the big “touristy” things, seeing how annoyed some of the locals seem to be with us. I don't know. Maybe it's the tiredness talking. My head still hurts.
At the moment, all I want is to take a shower and wash my face. Then maybe lay on a comfy bed for a while. I need to find some internet too, so I can post this, and check my email. And maybe upload a few pics to facebook.
3:00 Traffic-logged streets of London
Driving through London is absolutely fascinating. The streets are jammed, the cafes and stores and people all range from stylish and brand spanking new, to old and dumpy. There's one overall style here that everybody is wearing to varying degrees of intensity. It's kind of the USA version of Emo dressing, and it's really weird to see everyone here wearing it. At home, it's just the random few mixed in with all the other styles, but here, everyone looks the same. And the people on the little motor scooter things are seriously freaking me out. They bob and weave in and out between cars and buses, and run lights, and appear to have both a serious desire to get wherever they want to go quickly, and a very serious death-wish.
I don't think I'd want to live here. It' s too big, too noisy, to rushed and unknown to feel right. It might be fun for awhile, but I know I'm not going to regret coming home.
That's all so far. More installments to come when I have written more and get internet access again. Love, love, love to all! And hugs and double European cheek kiss things to everybody. Except Nick. He gets a real kiss. I love you and miss you.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Up and Away
Even with all my bags packed, I'm still not processing that we're leaving today. For some reason, this trip seems to be a bigger, more momentous happening than any of the other ones I've taken. Maybe because I'm older and more able to comprehend and appreciate the scope of planning this has taken, and also understand how amazing this experience I'm about to take part in is. Maybe.
But I also think I've never left this much behind before. My heart feels like it is bound to so many more things this time. To Mandie, the sister I'm leaving, to Nick, the man I love, to Nick's parents, my second family, to my job and my friends there...so many things. Before, with my family by my side, my whole world went with me. This time, I'm leaving half of it behind.
Although that does make me sad, I know that being apart only makes being reunited all the more sweet and potent. My head knows that. My heart just hasn't really caught up yet. And it probably won't, at least for awhile. My heart-strings are irrevocably tied to everything here. The farther I get away, the more they stretch, and stretching heart-strings hurt. Alot sometimes. But that pain will make everything I'm going to experience all the more vivid. Emotion begets emotion, the more a heart holds, the more it can hold.
I'm so ready for this trip. I need a fresh perspective. I'm ready to feel to new depths, and be alive in adventure...even if it is only trying to not get killed while crossing the street in London.
But I also think I've never left this much behind before. My heart feels like it is bound to so many more things this time. To Mandie, the sister I'm leaving, to Nick, the man I love, to Nick's parents, my second family, to my job and my friends there...so many things. Before, with my family by my side, my whole world went with me. This time, I'm leaving half of it behind.
Although that does make me sad, I know that being apart only makes being reunited all the more sweet and potent. My head knows that. My heart just hasn't really caught up yet. And it probably won't, at least for awhile. My heart-strings are irrevocably tied to everything here. The farther I get away, the more they stretch, and stretching heart-strings hurt. Alot sometimes. But that pain will make everything I'm going to experience all the more vivid. Emotion begets emotion, the more a heart holds, the more it can hold.
I'm so ready for this trip. I need a fresh perspective. I'm ready to feel to new depths, and be alive in adventure...even if it is only trying to not get killed while crossing the street in London.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
July 19, 2009
This whole blogging thing is still a little new to me. I am learning to ride the fine line between the way I write my journals, and the vagueness of a facebook-type posting. This is proving to be difficult for me, as I seem to communicate my thoughts more clearly, openly, and bluntly on paper. Or a keyboard in this case. I sometimes hedge my statements when talking directly to people. It's easier not to do that here. We'll see how that goes.
As far as the Europe trip goes, things are a little crazy at the moment. I'm yo-yo-ing back and forth between apathy and excitement, probably because this trip has been in the making for over a year. The duffel I'm borrowing from Nick has been sitting, open, with the random clothes I've thrown in it spilling out for the last 2 weeks. Travel books about Italy have been popping up around the house. This trip is suffusing our lives...
On consideration, my multiple emotions seem to actually be just one: I think the apathy is stemming from the need to get out and do something. Aside from little weekend trips every once in a while (which are wonderful to tide one over), I haven't been anywhere, or done anything noteworthy since the last England trip.
That must be it.
I have a severe case of wanderlust.
Well, that's about to be remedied :)
As far as the Europe trip goes, things are a little crazy at the moment. I'm yo-yo-ing back and forth between apathy and excitement, probably because this trip has been in the making for over a year. The duffel I'm borrowing from Nick has been sitting, open, with the random clothes I've thrown in it spilling out for the last 2 weeks. Travel books about Italy have been popping up around the house. This trip is suffusing our lives...
On consideration, my multiple emotions seem to actually be just one: I think the apathy is stemming from the need to get out and do something. Aside from little weekend trips every once in a while (which are wonderful to tide one over), I haven't been anywhere, or done anything noteworthy since the last England trip.
That must be it.
I have a severe case of wanderlust.
Well, that's about to be remedied :)
Friday, July 17, 2009
My First Blog...ever.
I must say, I pretty much thought blogging was stupid.
I have changed my mind.
Whether or not anyone ever reads this, it is essential to me to write in some way. Journal, letters, facebook, or now blogging, it satisfies my soul in a way that is hard to discribe. My mind is cleared and my is life recorded.
I decided to start blogging in order to record my trip to Europe that I'm leaving for on Tuesday. I've been twice before, and this time, I don't want to forget anything that happens. It should be pretty wonderful. And crazy.
It's getting down to the wire now, and honestly, I'm really tired of all the preparation and planning. Let's just get on with it already. Really.
But I'm pretty ecstatic. Given the opportunity, I'm almost always up for an adventure.
I have changed my mind.
Whether or not anyone ever reads this, it is essential to me to write in some way. Journal, letters, facebook, or now blogging, it satisfies my soul in a way that is hard to discribe. My mind is cleared and my is life recorded.
I decided to start blogging in order to record my trip to Europe that I'm leaving for on Tuesday. I've been twice before, and this time, I don't want to forget anything that happens. It should be pretty wonderful. And crazy.
It's getting down to the wire now, and honestly, I'm really tired of all the preparation and planning. Let's just get on with it already. Really.
But I'm pretty ecstatic. Given the opportunity, I'm almost always up for an adventure.
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