Goiiiin to the chapel and we’re going to watch Kate and William get married: LONDON/End of Spring Break!

I have just returned from my first experience with socialized medicine.  After hacking up the majority of my lungs, I decided it was due time to conserve the remainder and go see a doctor.  My appointment lasted approximately four minutes and my two prescriptions cost 8 euros in total.  

But back to my spring break travels.  As a last stop on the Tara’s European Tour, I made my way to London to watch the royal wedding, drink tea, and enjoy the ND kids before they flew back across the pond to the good ol’ U. S. of A.  Even though it was a trip I originally did not have my heart set on, it ended up being one of my favorite trips of the semester and was the perfect way to end break.

After getting quizzed by the London customs patrol to make sure mine and Kathleen’s stories matched up (…yeah I don’t think we had any grand terrorist schemes for the three days we were there.  Here and I do look pretty shifty though don’t we?) we successfully made it from Luton into the city mostly thanks to the fact that people speak ENGLISH in this country.  We decided there was no better way to celebrate our successful trip than to have a traditional English breakfast at 3 pm.  What a delicious decision.  We then quickly dropped our stuff at the hostel before meeting up with the ND London kids so we could see one of the ND classes perform Shakespeare at the Globe.  I don’t know which was better, being in the Globe or being surrounded by ND students, but the whole experience was fabulous and the performers did an incredible job.  We followed our theatre rendez vous with an equally classy excursion to Perfect Chicken for dinner and then drinks at a pub.

Day two began with a grand event: the Royal Wedding! We chose not to camp outside the palace and instead joined thousands of Brits in Trafalgar Square where we watched the wedding on big screens. It was so fun to be in the middle of the excitement and to see everyone waiving flags and wearing ridiculous Kate and William things. Our view wasn’t fabulous so during the ceremony we took the tube to Harrod’s where we were able to peruse the store free of crowds. We then made our way to Hyde Park to see the first kiss on the big screens. 

 After the royal hub-bub died down, Jane led us through the tourist circuit as we hit Picadilly Circus, Buckingham Palace, Ben’s Cookies at Coventry Garden, red phone booth pictures, and finally a dinner of fish and chips.  So London.

Day three we tourist-ed once again with our fearless guide Meg, who I have missed dearly in the past semester!  It was so good to see her.  She brought us to the Millenium Bridge which is in Harry Potter, then to the Burough Market for a taste of London, Parliament, Big Ben, the London Eye, Westminster Abbey, and Buckingham Palace. 

We concluded the perfect London day with tea time at a beautiful tea house called Bea’s with a group of London and Angers girls.  With our steaming pots of tea we were served trays of sandwiches, scones and jam, cookies, brownies, macaroons, meringues, and gorgeous cupcakes.  We were all so full by the end but it was truly one of the perfect London experiences and one of my favorite memories from all of spring break.  Unfortunately, we were tight on time and had to run back to the hostel to get ready for the ND booze cruise.  This semester we actually were allowed to stay on the boat so it was a great success. 

On my final morning in London I enjoyed some quality time with Jane before agreeing to go on a Burberry search with John.  Sadly, my feet had all but given up during my 16 days of traveling and I struggled on our walk, only to find that Burberry was closed.  Boo, but it was nice to catch up.  I remet up with Jane for lunch where we said our au revoirs before I headed back to the land of baguettes.  London truly was the perfect way to end the perfect spring break.  I was surrounded by people I love who went above and beyond to make sure I had an amazing weekend.  I am so grateful for their friendship and am so excited to be reunited with them when fall comes. 

And thus I conclude (admittedly very en retard) my blogs about spring break.  I am currently a little bogged down with finals and such but will update you on trips to Ile de Ré, Barcelona, and Paris as soon as possible.  Until then, wait in suspense dear readers.  Good blogs come to those who wait. xoxo.

Spring Break continued..Malta (don't worry I'll post a map)

I’m sure you’ve all been wondering what I did for the second week of my spring break…and for the two weeks since then…but I’m a little backed up on schoolwork (I don’t know when I started having homework and exams) and a little behind on sleep so I took a short break from blogging.  My apologies, I promise to update you in full eventually.  But let’s get back to spring break. 

From April 25-28 I went to Malta.  Not originally on my list of places to see, but Stephanie’s uncle has an apartment there which we more or less got to stay in for free so with the promise of lodging gratuity, we all booked flights on janky airlines to the little country of Malta, which awesomely enough is not in the Schengen Zone so I got a stamp on my passport.  Woowoo.

Being the lovely hostess she is, Stephanie had a driver pick us up at the airport and upon our arrival she had breakfast waiting on the table, complete with PEANUT BUTTER (the French don’t do pb)!! We all went a little crazy and three jars of peanut butter may or may not have been consumed that weekend.  It wasn’t that warm, but we were all sick of sight-seeing so we donned our swimsuits and went to the ocean and laid on some rocks for a few hours while the natives wondered why we were out there while it was cold.  The rest of the night was relatively low key: grocery shopping, made dinner, and then hung out until bed. 

Day two was supposed to be beach day but it turned into beached day when opened the windows to discover rain.  After trying to wait it out, we ventured out with our umbrellas, hoping it would clear up before we reached the beach.  Wrong.  It rained harder.  We took cover in a small café so we could nibble on appetizers and use the free wifi.  Really late in the afternoon it finally cleared up and we got an hour on the rocks once again.  We returned home to make fajitas and then decided we could not sit in the house any longer so we went to a local pub where we knew the Man U game would be playing (so Euro right?).  Home and bed happened shortly thereafter.

Day three turned into an adventure.  We decided to visit the island of Gozo where we heard there was a beautiful red-sand beach.  So, we took a ridiculously old bus to the other side of the island.  Then we took a ferry.  Then we took a bus to Victoria.  Then we took a bus to a rando-town that looked like Iraq.  Then we started walking because our directions indicated the beach was only a half-hour walk.  False information.  After 45 minutes of walking through what looked like a deserted portion of the Middle-East, we saw the beach from a hill-top. 

The only problem was that we had at least another hour walk if we wanted to reach it.  Knowing the last bus stopped running at six, we were a little pressed for time and many of us chose to head back early.  We got back to the main town and walked around and found some cliffs before shipping back to Malta for the evening.

 

All and all, Malta wasn’t the beach experience we had all anticipated, but it was really nice to not sleep in a hostel, to cook our own meals, and to have time to hang out with everyone and relax.  It was a good break from being a tourist and to calm down before jetting off to London.

Ro ma ro ma ma : Rome for Easter Weekend

When I got to Rome I had the Lizzie McGuire soundtrack in my head so just to help you all get in the mood (don't worry it's not Hilary Duff): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4iISqiSeDk&feature=BFa&list=PLE9E8B7B642F856DF&index=11

Anyway, the trip to Rome was rather uneventful as I had already discovered Italians are really loud and scary.  But scary does not even begin to describe our first lodging experience in Rome:

I arrive at the address given to me by the B&B owner, Sandra.  Sandra is not present so Kathleen, Kaitlin, Micahlyn and I wait…for 40 minutes, in the China town ghetto of Rome—quick question: why does Rome have a China town ghetto?  Sandra, a large black Italian woman, finally arrives and sizes us up..literally there was an up and down head motion.  “There are a lot of you,” she says.  No Sandra, we have a reservation for four, and there are four of us.  You are already freaking me out.  Before entering, she tries to convince us to move to another building.  We ask her why we can’t have the room she had originally designed for us, and she explains “well it will just be easier and you can have free wifi over there…but you won’t have a private bathroom.”  We want a private bathroom but she insists we look at both rooms.  So she unlocks the door and it was like pandora’s box exploded and doom was all over the place.  It was dark, dirty, the closet door was literally falling off, and there was one bed for four of us.  Upon seeing this disaster, we decide to check out our other option, though we are skeptical.  In an attempt to persuade us, she starts rattling about how if we change, she will take off the city tax so we can save $20.  We cross the street and enter building #2, which is, believe it or not, creepier than the first.  It is even darker.  There are stale pastries in a box which she claims are “fresh” for us to eat every morning.  Then she opens the door and I’m pretty sure I caught a glimpse of hell.  The bed had been slept in the night before and it hadn’t been made.  There was trash on the floor.  And it smelled.  I was already ready to abort mission when she introduced us to the people we would be “sharing a bathroom with”…aka the people who were going to sell us into the slave trade.  They were four huge, middle-aged, men who looked like they might pounce on us.  Every siren and red flag in my head was going off.  The scene was literally out of the movie, Taken. 

To avoid being taken, I asked Sandra for a minute for us to discuss.  She went into the room with the scary men and started talking quickly in Italian, probably negotiating our prices.  Meanwhile, Kaitlin and I went downstairs and called every person we knew in Rome.  Unfortunately, ND was hosting an event at this time so they were all busy and could not answer their phones.   As a group, we decided we’d rather be homeless than stay in this place, so we told her we wanted to check out.  A battle-royale Italian-style ensued and Sandra started yelling and waving her arms at me that we could not do this.  We started leaving and she continued to yell, and finally she started summoning her male friends.  This is when we knew it was time to book.  So we got to a main piazza as quickly as possible and then freaked out because we were homeless on Easter weekend in Rome.   Luckily, Jeannie and God came to the rescue and the hostel the Dublin kids were staying at had one room left—a four person private room.  I have never been so relieved in my life.

We checked in and almost cried with glee when we saw a clean room with four beds and fresh towels awaiting us.  After a few deep breaths, we continued on and got pizza before heading to the Trevi Fountain! 

Starting at the Trevi was literally the best way we could have started Rome.  It was crowded, but it truly is a stunning fountain and well worth seeing.  We then wandered towards the Roman Forum, ruins, and some chapels before making our way towards the Coliseum where we were meeting up with the other ND kids for Good Friday Stations of the Cross.  

 Following the ND flag we all assembled next to the Coliseum where I finally found Jane and Jeannie!  I almost started crying because it was so good to see friends from school and I have missed them both so much this semester.  It was just beautiful to reconnect with all the ND kids who have been all over Europe all semester and join together under the Pope and do the stations of the cross.  Even though it was an incredible experience, it was really long, and in Italian and Latin, and we had some feisty nuns behind us who kept elbowing us to try to get ahead of us.  Rude.   So we headed back, used our 30 minutes of free internet/ipads, and then went to sleep.

 

Saturday, ND organized a tour of the Vatican for us.  It was MASSIVE and the tour lasted over three hours, but I did learn a lot about all the art in the Vatican.  

After the tour, I went to find Stephanie but on the way my phone ran out of minutes.  Luckily, I had bought extra in France.  Unluckily, it would not let me call the phone company because I was not in France and did not have minutes to call outside of France. Wah wah.  So, stranded in the streets of Rome, I was minorly freaking out.  Then I heard a man speaking French to his wife, and hey, I speak French and their phones work in Italy so I politely asked him if I could use his to make a very quick phone call.  He was not pleased and said it was his work phone.  But then I got teary eyed and he said okay and alas, I called Stephanie and found her.  Alleluia that I’m bilingual!  Then I was supposed to meet Mason, who I also could not contact.  So Stephanie and I made it to the Pantheon and somehow picked him out of the crowd.  So so so happy to see him after a year of him being abroad!!  He then brought us to the “best gelato in Rome” at Giolitti’s where we did have some ridiculously amazing gelato.  We ate the gelato while walking, and Mason showed us his apartment and architecture studio (and all his sketches—they are STUNNING!!  He is so talented.) before he gave us a grand/hyper speed tour of Rome. 

He then left us to go to mass and Stephanie and I returned to the hostel to grab Micahlyn and head to dinner.  There, we had Roman showdown number two with the rudest waiter/manager I have ever met.  After we sat down and were looking at the menus, he came over and said we were going to order.  We asked him if we could have a minute to which he yelled, “NO!  I COOK NOW SO YOU ORDER NOW!” ahhh!  Not happy but we somehow managed to spit out an order, though we probably should have left.  Then he brought us the bill and there were four different charges on it, plus he overcharged me so we politely asked him if he could explain what the Italian taxes were.  Instead, he threw a menu at us and told us “When you eat in my restaurant you read the WHOLE menu.”  The menu was still not clear about the charges but I was not in the mood to test my luck in Rome any further.  On our way home, we got summoned into an Italian bakery where Stephanie met the love of her life, a 5’5” man with a wig named  Leo who is a singer.  There was a rather large language barrier but we all got discounted pastries so all was well with the world. 

Sunday was Easter!  Alleluia Chris is risen!  What better way to celebrate Easter than with the Pope in the Vatican?  I really don’t think I can describe what a beautiful scene it was.  Yes, most of the mass was in Italian and Latin (except the second reading…that was in English for some reason), and yes we got there super early (but we got really good seats—the fact we got seats at all was rather ridiculous), but hearing the Pope speak and gathering with thousands of Catholics to celebrate the crux of our faith was truly the experience of a lifetime.  I am so unbelievably blessed and cannot believe how wonderful Easter was surrounded by people I love, all sharing the gift of life and redemption. 

 

After mass, several of the girls gathered for Easter brunch and Easter gelato (to answer the obvious question, yes, all we did in Italy was eat).  The gelato place was back by the Vatican so we saw it one last time before leaving for the day.  After a few more sights--the Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain again, the inside of the Pantheon—it was time to conclude our Roman excursion and prepare for Malta.  I said goodbye to everyone, including Jeannie who I will miss in Chicago this summer L, but was so grateful I had had time to see them all.  And thus I concluded the Italian portion of my journey, much larger than I had started, but much more cultured and happy I had experienced it all.

 

Next up, Malta.  

Days 4-6: Florence, Italy

This blog is very en retard, and I’ve realized that if I don’t start blogging about spring break very soon, Marilyn might fly to France and murder me.  But then I would have a visitor…so it might be worth it.

While I may not have blogged for the entirety of my trip, I did keep an extensive journal so I would have accurate and detailed anecdotes for all my readers!  Alas, we will today recount my three glorious days in Florence, Italy, truly one of my favorite stops along my spring break adventure.

Our trip to Italy started very interestingly as we were picked up by taxi from our lovely hotel at 4:25 a.m. because we were going to a train station that was far away and we were unfamiliar with.  Alors, it was not that far.  And we were very early.  And the train station was closed.  So there we were, three American girls, at a single track station in the middle of the night, waiting for a 5:30 train.  Something strange was bound to occur.  We sat alone for the first 40 minutes and all was creepy, but well.  Then we were joined by a middle-aged man from Senegal who was wearing a robe of sorts, had gray feet (I am not lying—they were GRAY) and who wanted a smoke.  We did not have one, but he told us about his life anyway.  He was waiting for the same train as us because he needed to go to Monaco to have his finger amputated.  Now my French isn’t fabulous, but I am 100% sure that I have this scenario correct.  I was sitting at a train station with a little African man who got his hand caught in a factory machine and now needed to remove his finger.  I will repeat for the thousand-th time this semester: my life is a joke.

Our train did come and we had our first Italian train experience.  What I most remember from the trip is that Italian trains and French trains are polar opposites.  On French trains, you sit quietly, don’t make eye contact unless you find the person attractive, and keep to yourself.  The train only has an occasional murmur which makes long train rides very peaceful.  Italian trains, on the other hand, involve lots of yelling and eve more hand movements.  Plus, the Italians are not as kind as the French and they do not translate their announcements into English…or French…or any other language for that matter.  It’s Italian or bust.  Contrary to my initial thoughts, French did not help me understand Italian, but I was able to pick out the correct train stop so we got off in Florence and went straight to our B&B.  The Leonard DaVinci B&B was absolutely adorable (if you go to Florence, you cannot pass up this place!)  

 

It’s a little out of the central town which makes it quiet at night and far less sketchy.  It’s run by an elderly Italian woman named Carla who speaks very little English but nods and smiles a lot and uses lots of hand motions so you can understand.  We were under the impression we got one free breakfast, but every morning fresh pastries, bread, homemade jam, fresh squeezed grapefruit juice, yogurt, fruit, and pots of steaming coffee filled a large dining room table.  We also had our own bathroom complete with a claw-foot tub (but no shower curtain and the shower head only came up to my knees which made for a very interesting shower…), and a bidet.  I have been searching France to find a bidet—who knew it would be this hard?  But the B&B was one of the best parts of Florence and I would go back just to stay with Carla again.

But in true tourist fashion, we checked in and headed out.  Per Carla’s suggestion, we went to find an authentic Italian meal on a small piazza.  One hour later, we could have not been more full after we devoured bruschetta, ravioli, grilled vegetables, red wine, and cappuccino.  Our first Italian meal/the beginning of our weight gain was a success. 

Then we found one of the many churches Kirsten had her heart set on and went to walk in when we came to the astonishing conclusion that you HAVE TO PAY TO GET INTO CHURCHES.  I find this morally repulsive.  I don’t care who is buried in the church, if I want to go in and pray, I should be able to go wherever I want in the church to pray.   So I paid for one church, and then I refused.  There are usually prayer entrances that are free where you can briefly kneel and pray, but I got yelled at in one of those for praying where one of the tourists may want a photo.  Really Italy?  I am truly sorry that my prayer is interrupting your tourist scene. 

While I fumed over Italy’s morals, Kirsten paid to get into another church.  Nora and I wandered a nearby market where I made an impulse buy of an Italian leather jacket.  I did successfully manage to negotiate a 70 euro discount with a pony-tailed Italian man who was really angry by the end that I had gotten the price down that low.  Sorry I’m not sorry.

We continued on and found the Duomo—didn’t really need to be found it’s one of the largest buildings in Florence.  After a quick photo shoot, we decided to return in the morning to climb the 400+ stairs to the top.  Instead, we swung by a piazza, visited the Palazza di Medici (where we oddly found a visiting Anne Frank exhibit in addition to the traditional Medici house), and then made it to Pont del Vecchio (**This is a little late, but please excuse all my Italian typos**) which is a BEAUTIFUL bridge in Florence where all the expensive Italian jewelers vend their goods.  To my future husband: I expect gifts from this bridge.  Thank you in advance. 

 

After a beautiful breakfast compliments of Carla, we began our hike to and then up the Duomo.  400 stairs later we had the most gorgeous view of Florence you could ask for.  On the way down, you are close enough to touch the inside of the dome and the paintings there are STUNNING.  They are just absolutely extraordinary and need to be witnessed in person.

Right after the Duomo we found a church (it was free) that used to be a grain market and had a miraculous painting in it, but then it got burned.  What I found most strange was that there was no crucifix anywhere in this church.  I need a historian/theologian to help me figure that one out.

Then I moved onto what I thought would be the simple task of mailing postcards.  Wrong.  Italy, you kill me once again.  Number one there is no rhyme or reason to how the lines work.  Number two, I thought France was bad but whoa there Italy, you just won the award for most inefficient country.  Three, stamps cost 1.8 euro each!! (everyone at ND who got an Italy postcard bc I had no choice bc they had to get their before finals, you’re welcome).   So 45 minutes later Nora and I emerged, rather stunned at the process of things and went to yet another church.  But Santa Croce was rather large and kind of a big deal but I still refused to pay so I just went in and prayed and then left.  We did discover that the MTV TRL awards would be hosted outside it though so it was a good find.  Tensions were running a little high so we ate pizza and caprese salad and then went in search of gelato…because in Italy you eat whatever feelings you have (sad, happy, bored, calm).  After a ridiculously good cone of dark chocolate and Florentine cream gelato, Kirsten and I decided to hike up to the Piazza de Michelangelo for another stunning view of Florence. 

After wandering around and taking in the beautiful city that lay in front of us, we headed back to town to see the Uffizi Gallery.  Kirsten was the best possible person to go there with as she is a double major in art history and theology and explained all the really cool and really famous paintings to me, as well as some lesser known artists who I now really like!  Even aside from the paintings, the gallery itself is stunning and well worth the visit. 

We then had a lovely Italian dinner with an American soldier who Katie met on the train (we really do make friends everywhere we go).  Then we meandered back to the TRL awards because we thought Lady Gaga would be there—fail--but we saw a bunch of Italian and British bands.  As we turned to leave, we saw the ND kids from Toledo!!  Such a strange run in but so nice to see some familiar faces J before heading to bed.

Day three in Florence may well have been one of my favorite days of all of break.  Nora and I had registered to go on a Tuscan bike ride/castle tour/wine tasting/oil tasting.  It was as spectacular as I had imagined.   They took us 40 min outside of Florence where we began with a tour of Castello di Poppiano where they currently produce wine and olive oil.  After we finished the tour we got to taste some of the products before we got our bikes and began our trek through the countryside.  The grassy mountains and endless vineyards could not have made a more beautiful landscape and I literally had a smile on my face for hours as we biked around.  Halfway through we had a massive Italian lunch…then they told us to bike up a mountain.  Three people out of 40 successfully completed this task.  I got a decent way up but my ego took a hit when I could physically not push my bike any higher.  Out of pride, I refused to ride in the van and walked the beastly incline instead.  It still sucked but I felt very accomplished at the end. 

 

After the beast we had a little ways more and a small hill to go which we finished with ease.  Unfortunately, one of our obese American counterparts did not and she passed out into a bush on the final stretch.  Sad? Yes.  Comical? Also yes.

Then the trip was over and we were very sad to leave our new Irish, American, and Scottish friends.  Though it was our last night in Florence, Nora and I could not stomach any more carbs and ate yogurt and fruit instead.  Then we did laundry Tuscan-style and watched Glee to finish off our Florentine excursion. 

 

What a stunning city with so many amazing memories.  Ill try to supply you with as many photos as possible, but nothing can do it real justice.  I am so happy I got to visit this part of Italy and cannot wait to share the rest of my Italian adventure with you in the next post as I narrate my adventures in Roma (ro ma ma-thanks Lady Gaga).  Ciao!!