Installment 09 of the Ross Chronicles -- VENICE!

How I hope to always remember Venice



The perfectly acceptable alternative


Photos in an easy-to-view format!
http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Mar%2010%202009%20Venice/?albumview=slideshow

Dear friends,

I write to you once again from the public library of Florence, the Biblioteca della Oblate, so if I happen to mis-write a quote mark or a dash here or there, please forgive it!

This weekend's voyage took me and my 14 fellow classmates to The Floating City, Venice. I don't know that I've ever been so taken with a city so quickly, or so entranced by a city after so much time in it. It seemed that no matter how many hours I spent wandering the winding streets and alleyways of Venice (and I ended up spending QUITE a few), I fell in love with the bizarre city further and further. The mere existence of Venice is amazing: it wasn't so long ago in the grand scheme of things that all there was where the city of Venice now rests was open sea with patches of sandbars dotting the surface. It seems that about 7-600 years ago, some bright individual thought it'd be a good time to try and build a city out there on the sand bars. His (or her) proposal ended up being a good one, and one that could be used: entire trees were driven into the sandbars to create foundations for the city that would come to be home to one of the longest-standing republics. What seems like bonafide crazy talk was actually extremely successful. I'm not familiar with the details of the city's past, but as I understand it, there have been very few problems with the original construction. The only 'supports' which require replacement are the ones on the outside, as those are exposed to air and can thus rot, all the others are OK.



The Floating City itself


So with that in mind: that the very existence of the city depends upon human intellect, determination and the will to create & survive at all costs & against all odds, let us take a trip to Venice. On Saturday morning, the 7th, we got on a train at about 8 in the morning and got to Venice around 11. Our first sight was dazzling: bright sunlight on light-colored buildings and reflecting off the beautiful azure waters of the large canal that runs like an 'S' through the city, Canal Grande. The air was completely clear of fog, the sky free of clouds and the sun was shining brightly. The train station looks out on a wide expanse of the Canal Grande and it seemed like something out of a movie: boats of many sizes either puttering along up the canal or slowly plodding along as only gondolas can. The colors which come to mind most crisply are BLUE and GREEN, I have a vivid memory of all sorts of shades of blue in the deeper parts of the canal and green toward the shores. The buildings are all different colors and many of the windows have a distinctly Asian influence: the Venutians had the most contact with Turkey & China in Italy.



More of the same beautiful city



The campanile in Piazza San Marco


Our very first extended view of Venice was on board a water bus. These fair-sized boats cruise up and down the Canal Grande stopping at various points according to their line number (three days and I never figured it out, though I only attempted the buses twice). Aboard the water bus we were able to fathom (mariner's joke courtesy my lovely, nautical friend Meagan) the impressive nature of Venice. The Canal Grande is Main Street, and there are scores upon scores of side streets, or canals. Looking down 'street' after 'street' of waterways filled with gondolas, smaller motor boats and bridges gave one the impression that one was in an entirely different world. And when you walk down the streets, you believe it.



Me aboard the water bus


The original streets of Venice were restricted in size and direction by the larger canals drifting in and among the sand bars. The entire city of Venice is in actuality several dozen mini-islands, connected by bridges where possible. Because the city is its own archipelago, its streets are incredibly serpentine. I don't know that I ever walked through a stretch of street which was completely straight for longer than a hundred feet. In the shopping districts and main areas there are open spaces and fairly straight streets, but in the more residential areas, the streets twist, turn and loop like crazy.



One of the many winding canals of Venice


The walls of Venice are in pretty bad condition. The richer areas of town do an acceptable job of keeping the high level of humidity from completely ruining their walls and foundations, but the poorer areas have entirely succumbed to the moisture and have started to fall apart. The city does a good job of keeping the high-traffic areas painted and spackled nicely, but as you may notice with my photos, there are areas that are entirely decrepit (I only got a very few photos of such areas).



A nitty-gritty, uglier side of Venice



A common enough sight: gondoliers hawking for tourists to take a ride


We toured several churches in Venice, but we were also given a lot of time to ourselves, opportunity to wander the city, get somewhat acquainted and learn a tiny portion of what life in Venice is like. Our first day there, we were free from about 4:30 to 8:30. I took the opportunity to wander alone through the streets. I worked away at a particularly delicious lemon & vanilla gelato and walked the streets, determined to find the area of Venice that I normally would not see. I was also determined not to use the small-sized map the hotel supplied me with unless I absolutely had to. Three hours later I decided I absolutely had to. While what I had seen of the sunset was quite pretty, losing the sun meant losing my sense of direction, and I hadn't quite caught on to the strange shape of the center of the city (the 'S' of the Canal Grande), and so when I finally looked at my map, I discovered I was about as far away from the hotel as it was possible to be. I was not dismayed, however: it was why I was interested in wandering alone through the more residential areas -- I wanted to see what Venice was all about beyond the remarkable number of designer outlets and over-priced glass stores. And that's how I became very comfortable and how I fell completely in love with the city of Venice: in absolutely no time at all, and completely effortlessly, the city got me more lost than I've ever been. THAT's a beautiful city.

If you're interested in spending a lot of money in a truly European city on truly European and worldwide goods, Venice is the place to go. It's amazing how many designer outlets and high-priced knickknack stores there are. I found it hard to believe at times that I had found yet ANOTHER Guess, Prada, Gap, Dolci & Gabbana, Ferrara, Gucci, etc. store that I HADN'T run into yet! I didn't even realize there were that many designers in the first place. And if that wasn't enough, there were stores selling all sorts of material, particularly glassware, which is a specialty of the local island-city of Murano, lace, a speciality of Burano and Carnavale masks, which apparently are in vogue at ALL times of the year. The prices were as remarkable as the goods it often seemed. Oddly, I saw NO supermarkets, so I wonder if there are terribly many residents of Venice. I imagine it's ridiculously expensive to live there, so there probably aren't many.



The astonishingly painted Burano


After our second day there, we had most of the day to ourselves. Three friends and I took the opportunity to go to Burano and Murano, the lace and glass headquarters, respectively. While I love pretty things, the prospect of going to Venice and then one of its sub-islands and spending more than an hour shopping was extremely uninteresting to me. So one of the friends and I split from the other two (who felt the exact opposite of me) and made our way through the residential area of Murano. It was pretty cool to see the area of the isalnd that very few ever see, and I was especially surprised by the approaching poverty. Apparently the glass market is declining very, very rapidly and many of the stores are going bankrupt. While a shame, it was still interesting to walk through the residential area which was clearly suffering from the rapid decline of a once-booming economy. Globalization is good for some economies, but it has destroyed the niche market of glassware in Murano. We also made it to Burano, which was as different from Murano as Murano was from Venice and we got a chance to explore that area and do some shopping there too. Interestingly, the buildings of Burano are very colorfully painted, and each different from those around it - as shown in some photos - I asked around and found that it's basically a tradition and not demanded by the city or anything like that. It was very aesthetically pleasing. Amazingly, on our way to Burano we four met the world's best glass blower.



A rotted dock in the boonies of Murano



The sea reflected off a house in Venice


I met the world's best glass blower at the water bus station from Murano to Burano. We had no idea where to buy the tickets for the bus and I had asked a couple sitting on the bench if they knew where to buy them. The man said he'd take me there in one minute, but had to finish something for his friend first. I waited outside with the three girls - while waiting we decided not to buy the tickets at all, as we'd yet to see any official for a bus ever ask for tickets, validated or otherwise. The man came out and started talking - we made it seem like we had already bought tickets. After asking if we were from the States, he said he'd spent time there after leaving Venice. According to him, he was born in Curacao to a Venutian father and Austrian-Pole mother. He moved to Venice at 6 to start his training as a glass blower. Normally a 15 year program, he finished his by the time he was 12 1/2 - because he was brilliant, you see. He has some pieces of glass that fell from the statue he was just working on and showing to his aunt an uncle, would you like to see? Take some, take some, they're just cast-offs! See the design on the colored part of the glass? He designed that when he was 12. No one had ever seen anything like it and now they all do it like that. At 12 he was ostracized by his peers in Murano for being too good of a glass blower, so he moved to New York. While there, he discovered Carla Bruni and introduced her to the music scene, she would later marry the now-French president N. Sarkozy. He also discovered Cindy Crawford and introduced her to the agent who would eventually get her into modeling. He returned to Murano like Michaelangelo, he said, hated for his brilliance. He had been away a long time and was now working back up the rungs of the glass blowing world. The three girls and I guessed quickly that he was completely nuts. He certainly didn't THINK he was lying, but it seemed very, very unlikely that this strange man was truly the world's best glass blower. But then... who knows?



A friend of mine caught candid and me on the boat to Murano



Part of the island of Murano


The next day entailed more walking & more touring and later more free time. I spent it alone for a while in the enormous Piazza San Marco, people-watching and enjoying myself. Two of my classmates showed up and we went for a walk together, along the sea and the edge of the city. There is a garden/forest in the far edge of Venice, and we meandered through that for a while. The sea was beautiful, the canals were entrancing and the city was perfectly illuminated by the bright sun that had burnt through the thin clouds that had earlier been threatening to cover the day in light gloom. Happily for all, they didn't get the chance. The day was divine. We trained home that night (Monday).

Venice is unearthly beautiful. While living there would probably be a headache (killer finances aside), visiting there often would be perfectly OK with me: I absolutely love the city. If you've ever seen photos and thought, 'Gee, I think I'd like to spend time there.', you're right.


Traveler's Tips from Venice:

1) Don't forget to bird-watch. The relationship between sparrows and pigeons is one of the funniest I've ever seen. I love seeing sparrows dash in and out, grabbing food as fast as they possibly can in order to keep it from the bigger, stronger, slower pigeons. It's also helps slow things down.
2) When in Europe, keep an eye on the street vendors. These illegal sellers of wares are fun to observe: their eyes constantly dart for police and unsuspecting 'victims', children who'll be fascinated by the simple toys or foreigners who don't understand how value-less the product is.
3) Take the time to get lost. How much do we not see because we're too eager to look for something? Some of the best things about a city, area, people or person are what you see when 1) they think no one's looking and 2) you're not telling yourself what you're going to see.
4) Bring a map. While it's nice and fun to get lost, there are some cities in which it is all but impossible to find your way if you're not somewhat familiar with the area, or able to make yourself familiar.
5) Watch out! There were a number of times that I turned a corner only to be greeted by literally a straight drop into the canal. The Venutians use the canals as their streets (cars are not allowed/possible in the city) and so step right off the canal onto their sidewalks. No matter where you are, if you're not careful, you could end up with a mouthful of canal water -- and that's some nasty stuff.
6) If you've got a damn good idea, follow through with it: there are crazier ideas that have worked! Venice: case in point.

Cheers to one and all, a lot of love and a smile for each,
(and especially for Chelsea -- congratulations!!)

Installment 08 of the Ross Chronicles -- A Day in the Life

Dear all,

No photos accompany this installment. I thought I'd try and describe & share an average day in my life over here. I expect photos would be very helpful for this, but this is a rather spur-of-the-moment thought, so I maybe I'll go through town later and take some photos for visual stimulation.

In any case, here we go. Every morning, the instantly recognizable sound of the travel alarm clock my dear sister thankfully got me for Christmas wakes me up. The sound is that of all basic watches, alarm clocks and appliances: the high pitched, single-tone "beeep!" The room is invariably cold, and it's a rare night that I don't wake from the blanket having shifted and my shoulder or back being suddenly exposed to the chill air. Because it's so bloody cold, I purposely put my alarm clock out of reach - otherwise I'd turn it off without leaving bed and avoid the cold for as long as possible (read: oversleep).

Getting out of bed is the hardest step: after that it's easy. Evan in the bed next to me sleeps on, his cell phone will wake him later. The room we share is very long and narrow. I go to the bathroom and splash cold water in my face and wet my hair in the sink. The bathroom is - impossibly - colder than the bedroom, but it helps to pick up my energy. Because showering is a hell of a trial, I do that in the evenings. I comb and dry my hair (though never enough for these intensely superstitious Italians: wet hair and/or uncovered neck invariably means catching a cold) and get back to my room. As I dress, Evan usually wakes (the ease of people with short hair...). We get to the kitchen together and break our fast on a slice of bread or two with butter (sometimes) and honey (occasionally). We each usually grab a piece of fruit or two and head out.

The walk to class takes about 20 minutes. It means crossing (usually sans crosswalks) several streets, and sometimes a very busy one. Depending on the class that day, we either go to a classroom on the north side of town nestled on the 5th floor of an apartment-style building or we go directly to the church/monastery/museum we'll be learning about that day. If we go to class, we find our way down the very recognizable streets which lead their ways along the northern border of il centro - the downtown. If we are going to a church, we more than likely take the fairly straight road Evan and I have fondly termed "5th Avenue", since it has about 4 names at different places and it goes straight through downtown.

If we have class, it runs from 10:00 to 12:00 and then we have about 2 hours till our class at 1:45. Lunch is a relaxed affair, and this time is usually spent at the grocery store or the Mercato Centrale, and online. If we're at a church/museum, we usually don't have an afternoon class and this means chilling out in Florence the rest of the day.

I make an effort to get to the public libarary, Biblioteca della Oblate two or three times a week. The redecorated, restructured nunnery is a beautiful place to relax, study and meet Italian students my age. It also has international newspapers, so I get a chance to find out what's going on back home.

I usually try to wait to eat lunch till about 1:30 or wait till class ends at 3:30, as the wait till 8:30 for supper can be tough if it's been a while since I ate. I like to pick up a kebab or a panino or a light pasta from a deli, but sometimes I get by with a bit of salami while walking through the Florence streets.

Things really slow down at 5:00. Classes are over, e-mails are written and there's not a whole lot to do. It's nice to walk through Florence, especially since I know the streets well enough at this point to not get turned around (too much) or lost (often). There are a few piazzas - or open, paved squares and many large areas in front of cathedrals that it can be fun chill out in front of and people-watch. It can also be really nice to pick up a coffee or a gelato (fantastic Italian ice cream) and sit in front of a wide window and look out at passersby.

Usually I'll return home around 7:00 and while the hour and a half with reading, homework or chatting with Evan or trying to chat with my Italian family. Since water is at a premium here, we're asked not to shower more than a few times a week. Well, when I decide to brave my luck by doing just that, I can't help but laugh: back home, my family joshs me for taking half-hour showers and now because I have to be careful to block up the door with a towel, keep the drain clear and dry the floor after I'm done, my showers are a half-hour long, but I'm under the water for 10!

Supper - as I've mentioned before - is rarely anything less than fabulous. Sometimes one of the three aspects isn't amazing, but I have yet to be disappointed by an entire meal.

Most of my time in Florence is spent walking through the streets. In a city where one can walk from one end to the other in a matter of a half-hour, there is a strange compulsion to take advantage of that at every opportunity, so I often find myself making 'voyages' to the other side of town just to get a gelato or ciocollata calda.

Some of the things about walking through the city I hope to remember most are the simple ones. Of course, all the bright green crosses signifying a farmacia or large Ts marking a tabaccchi are indelibly printed on my mind's eye. I'll probably never forget the sight of mis-matched, 4- or 5-story buildings looming over every street, defiantly not sharing color schemes with their neighbors. Walking past a 16th century palace which is still inhabited today, and noticing the rough-hewn stone inches from my face still amazes me every day. Seeing dog crap everywhere on the street is both annoying and microcosmic of Italian attitude: "I'll just be sure to walk my dog somewhere else for the next few days, then it's not like I'll run the risk of stepping in it, so what do I care?" they all seem to say. Watching people tote around their dogs like they're a fashion statement (what the statement is, noone knows) and willingly stop every few seconds so their dog can sniff every single block of pavement and wall never ceases to amuse me.

All told, my life here is very, very relaxing. I can wake up at 8 and read or write for 2 hours before class, or I can wake at 9:30 and rush to class. I have 2 hours inbetween the 2 classes I have, and sometimes I only have one. 3:30 to 8:30 is always wide open and usually entails walking through the modernly ancient streets of Florence. The day wraps up with supper at 8:30: it's a very social affair and it's not rare for me to get up from the table until 10:00 or 10:30 and hear the (real) family continue chattering till 11:30.

For those who've studied abroad, and particularly those who did in Florence, I hope this helped bring some memories back. I hope it was read-able for those who haven't yet had the good fortune, and I hope you're all doing great!

With a big smile,

-Ross-

Installment 07 of Ross Chronicles - Rome and Pompeii

Apparently Photobucket doesn't know how to change the formatting of the page so you can see the whole photo: just click it and it'll open in a new page. If you're using Firefox, right-click and press "Open in new tab".

I've got more photos!

A few from Florence before I left this weekend: http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Feb%2025%20Florence/
The first bin from Rome: http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Feb%2025%20Rome/
The second bin from Rome: http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Feb%2025%20Rome%202/
Pompeii: http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Feb%2025%20Pompeii/

Friends, Americans, countrymen, lend me your ears!



(Senatus PopulusQue Romanus - For the Senate and people of Rome, this was on the old shields and is still found on all the public works of Rome)

On Saturday morning I boarded a 7:45 a.m. train, along with my 14 compatriots and made my way to Rome. The last time I arrived in Rome was by plane, and I remember little of the airport. This time, however, we entered the Roma Termini train station which is bedecked with designer outlets, food stores, clothing shops and all sorts of stuff. Its size doesn't reveal its size: it has an underground area triple or quadruple the size of its upstairs filled with stores. The train station could easily double as a mall, and I wouldn't be surprised to learn that some Romans use it as such - it must resemble an anthill during on-season.

We dropped our bags off at our hotel and headed out right away to start our tour of the City of Love (that is Rome, right?). Our first destination was to be the Roman Forum and "Old Rome" - a must for any sight-seer in Italy -- or Europe for that matter.

Along the way I was struck by a few realizations about the city of Rome itself (the current, standing one, not the ancient, destroyed one). First of all, Rome is what Florence would have been if Florence hadn't been crammed into a tiny space that no self-respecting city would deem nearly sufficient to exist. (Imagine 700,000 people living in a city in which one can walk from end to end in thirty minutes.) No no, unlike Florence, Rome is spaced out (mostly). Rome has spacious streets (in places). Rome has palaces and buildings that don't (always) feel like they're competing for air, space and sunlight. The feeling of space that one gets from the avenues, tramlines and parks carries over to the alleys and sidestreets, and one begins to forget that you're pressed in-between huge, looming brick & marble buildings. Burnt orange is the color that comes to mind first when I think of Roman architecture - many buildings were a reddish-orange which catches the eye easily. But as always, wherever you walk you see monuments, ancient buildings and more art & architecture than you know what to do with.

As we walked along the wide streets which are cobblestoned in places and poorly paved with tracks for trams in others, I couldn't help but be that tourist: the buildings loom five or six stories above ground level and face the world with their bold facades displayed proudly, each painted entirely differently from those next to it, and I stared at them. Especially odd was to see an excavation site in the middle of a city street, circled by four-lane roads abutted by hotels, restaurants (with apartments above, always) and apartment buildings.

What I remember vividly about the last time I was in Rome was the pickpockets and gypsies. These people come out of the woodwork and seem to be on every bus and every subway and every street corner. This may seem idle paranoia, but truly, pickpockets are everywhere. This time was a bit different (fewer in the off-season), but our septuagenarian tour guide and professor, Janet, still had an opportunity to scream at one particular pickpocket, save a Japanese girl an unfortunate accident, and get spat at!

We reached the forum and it was exactly as I'd left it. I loved seeing the destroyed buildings and ancient pillars, broken pilasters and pockmarked marble. It was fascinating to observe the growth of grass, flowers and weeds where a short 1,500 years earlier men had done business which made or ultimately broke the largest empire on the planet or prayed to Gods we've now all but forgotten. The morning mist was still fairly heavy at the time we arrived at the Forum and there was a blue-grey tint cast over everything further than a hundred feet away, which rather lent itself to the ancient feeling of it all - the idea that one was glancing at a ghost town, at the embarrassed, unclothed remains of a once-proud empire that just wanted to go back to sleep.



Ruined walls in the Old Roman Forum







Modern Meets Ancient



A pretty good view of what the Forum is today




We walked and talked for hours, then made our way to the ruins of Palpatine Hill without Janet, our trusty guide, as it was past 1:00 and she was tired and hungry. I have no idea what this hill which overlooks Rome is, but it sure is cool. There are walls, holes, fountains, tunnels and an enormous field which looked like some sort of theater or sports arena.



A woman feeds an ostensibly feral cat which stares down a particularly bold pidgeon


The Colosseum was as colossus as ever (but in fact, it's not necessarily the largest of amphitheaters made by the Roman empire, it's merely named colosseum because of a huge statue which was placed outside its main entrance) and it was delightful to hike up those positively enormously tall stairs (which my photo doesn't do justice to) and see the view again.

After all this and lunch we made our way on a walk of the Pantheon and churches throughout the area. After several hours of walking (which we were all feeling), Janet treated us to gelato -- and it was delicious. The gelato was so unearthly good, I couldn't help but go back the next day. I went out to supper with friends and enjoyed the abrupt rudeness Roman servers have for Americans trying to make do with their language and then hung out in a bar for a long while.

Sunday was Vatican Day. Open (and also free) only one Sunday a month, we happened to be there for it, and it was PACKED. We waited 2 hours to get into the place and once there we spent just as many looking at altarpieces, artwork, Caravaggios and statues (which I loved - of course). The Vatican was startlingly familiar. I vividly remembered the foyer and main stairwell and many of the rooms of statues. I remembered quite well the Sistine Chapel, which is MUCH better the second time. The Sistine Chapel is quite small and one gets positively INUNDATED with things to look at. The ceiling is impressive, but not TOWERING and the Last Judgment is delightful but not strike-you-dumb amazing. I loved seeing it all again, though.

We were done with the Vatican but encouraged to see St. Peter's Basilica, which I did -- Michelangelo's Pieta, hello! I stepped back into the world's most famously mis-titled Cathedral with barely restrained glee. I love this place. The walls loom above you and every single square inch is gilded, painted, marbled, facaded or some other form of art-ed. The Pieta commands the attention of the entrance, but then one notices that the ceiling seems both impossibly high and unexpectedly close -- how can I feel crushed by the walls but also like I could touch the ceiling? It's intended of course, the architecture was designed to intimidate but not let you realize how huge it was: if you see my pictures, notice the writing along the top of the walls, those letters are 1 1/2 times the size of a man (or woman).

I got some killer light-effect shots in the Basilica and then left and enjoyed the day,


St. Peter's Basilica



One of my favorite light effects ever!


Castel Sant' Angelo, which is a fantastic fortress a stone's throw from the Vatican and then moved north and had the surprising delight of my trip to Rome: it was Carnavale weekend and I had stumbled across the first annual re-invention of a huge parade/spectacle! It started with kids in costume, then progressed to parading police and carabinieri and then the real events: trick riders, dances with horses, a 10 year old navigating expertly, flames and torches and all sorts of great spectacles -- all with horses! Piazza del Popolo was made up into a makeshift paradeground and it was filled with people, easily upwards of 10,000, but visibility was low, so my spot on the 10-foot wall behind the stage was coveted (don't worry, mom, I was safe up there). There were dozens of horses, loud noises, and funniest of all, a church bell which overlooked the piazza which was rung three times and twice was so loud it stopped all activity while it rung out the call to come to mass or other events (they ring their bells LONG and HARD here). This was a magical, amazing night which ended with fireworks, and I am so glad I wandered away from the Vatican and chose not to hop on the bus back to the hotel and settle down there and find something to do from there.


A 9- or 10-year old girl doing tricks and 'herding' a ton of horses!



A neat performing troupe, jumps, weaving and impressive horsemanship displays


The next day we sped through some churches and the old baths and happened across a huge cathedral where when we entered someone was PLAYING ORGAN. I positively love organ music. This huge, expansive church was rebounding with organ music which was so acoustic it seemed it was next to me. I enjoyed that for as long as I could (ignoring the tour of the place, sorry Janet) and then we got on a train headed for Naples to go to Pompeii the next day.

Naples is HECTIC. I will always remember Naples as dirty, fast, smelly, ugly, towering, rule-less and insane -- I absolutely loved it. I wish I could describe it more, but we literally hopped off the train to find the world's most famous pizzeria (literally) Antiqua Pizzeria da Michele and had the best pizza I've ever eaten in my life, and then hopped on another to get to Pompeii.

Pompeii is nothing without the ruins -- the city is tourist-oriented and without the twenty or thirty hotels each a stone's throw from the other, it would slip into obscurity overnight. All those hotels (which were empty at the time) did mean a really big super market, though, and we stocked up there with drinks and snacks and had a really fun night with all of us hanging out in Evan's and my room till late and then hit Pompeii the next day.

I don't know if there's really anything I can say about Pompeii beyond what everyone must say: I walked through an ancient-dead, forgotten, abandoned, excavated city with the wind whistling and pounding on my ears. The walls were crumbling and yet inexplicably stout. Marble pillars were stood back up and seemed out of place next to collapsed walls resplendent with purple flowers and weeds. Thankfully the tourists were not out in full, and the streets were quite vacant, which only lent itself to the eerie feeling that I was in a place that would rather pull the sheets of earth and grass back over its head and slumber for a further millennium or two. There is a definite impression that we, tourists, do not belong in Pompeii, and some walls and doorways seem to resent being seen again, after having been shamed and defaced by mother nature so many hundred years ago.




Pompeii









After a day at Pompeii, we made our way back to Naples, waited for our train to Florence, then after 3 hours were back "home".


My traveler's tips for this trip: 1) Notice when large groups of people are coming from or going to a certain place and go there; look for costumes and listen for music. Don't be afraid to walk alone, don't be afraid to ask questions like, "Why are you dressed like a masquerade dancer from 1800?" Of my 14 friends, I was the only one who found Carnavale or knew it was going on. 1a) Know how you're willing to spend your time. Of my 14 friends, I was the only one who didn't have time to re-see the Spanish Steps because I was at Carnavale. 2) Wait for your photo; good photos are waiting to be taken, but you have to listen and be patient: I was lucky enough to see some illegal street vendors take off running when cops arrived and I managed to take a series of photos which shows one hiding from the cops - I had to be patient for that one. 3) If you're in a hotel, you'd better take full advantage of their shower: where else are you going to get a steady stream of hot water, regular, constant water pressure and plenty of space to dry off in? And if they've got free breakfast, eat as much as you possibly can, then take some with you in your pocket for later, then eat some more. 4) Realize what you're looking at when you're looking at it. It's so easy to watch your feet or look at the person you're talking to when you could be observing the people/cars/buildings/ruins/

spectacle going on around you. 5) You don't have to be in Europe to be amazed at something: much of the delight I'm finding on my travels is the PEOPLE and what they're doing, who they're speaking to and how.

Above all is this. The idea which pervaded my entire experience of Rome and Pompeii may be quite cliche, but that doesn't make it less true: our time on this Earth is terribly short, our lives even moreso. Imagine an empire which spanned the entire known world - there was nothing and no one beyond its reach. 1,500 years later, peoples from all over the world are crawling over their forgotten remains, hypothesizing over the simplest of artifacts and forgetting the most significant pieces of work and effort. There are loves, lives, dramas and terribly important significances in our world and there must have been just as many in ancient Rome, and now those are all forgotten. Keep a perspective on what's important and remember that our life is short and our opportunity to have a good time and to improve our condition and those around us may be the only things which matter.

With that somewhat strange, poorly articulated thought I leave you. You're all in my thoughts and I hope you're happy where you are and with what you're doing,

-Ross-

Evan and I present our group: L-R: Caroline, Amy, Marie, Laura, Erin, Betsy, Clarissa, Jess, Lexie, Lisa, Kim, Suz & Annie

Photos from Assisi - Thank God

Apparently Photobucket doesn't know how to change the formatting of the page so you can see the whole photo: just click it and it'll open in a new page. If you're using Firefox, right-click and press "Open in new tab".

The kindly repair man was able to fix my camera and retrieve the photos from my SD card, so thankfully I have photos of Assisi. Here are some of my favorites!

This is the entire album

http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Feb%2019%20Assisi/


A re-take of one of my favorite photos from the last time I was in Assisi. I couldn't remember if it was taken vertical or horizontal, so I just did both!






The Rocca Maggiore, the castle atop the hill at Assisi



This is the Basilica di San Francesco



Here are L - R, Annie, Lisa and me at Rocca Maggiore.


The following photos are a panoramic view of what can be seen from atop the "Octagonal Tower" of Rocca Maggiore.










A stairway in Assisi. It struck me. Not literally, just when I saw it, I felt like I should take a photo.



See those arches? They span a narrow alley between two buildings, the arches support either wall and prevent them from collapsing.



Me, with the cloisters & basilica di San Francesco in the background.

Visit Assisi,

-Ross-

Installment 06 of the Ross Chronicles -- Assisi and DEBACLE

Ragazzi e ragazze,

This past weekend was, if nothing else, a weekend. It really made me think about becoming an adage-writer (is there such a thing?) so that I could express my feelings succinctly. Does anyone know if there's a turn of phrase or expression which basically states that when lots of things happen and things start going well, other things go badly; like "when it rains it pours" but not quite -- more along the lines that with the high points in life will also come low points, etc.? Anyway, that's all beside the point. This weekend, I had the opportunity to go to my favorite place in Italy: Assisi.

This past weekend was one of the much-coveted "long" weekends. Classes were planned so that we would be able to have three days if we wanted to get to a destination a bit further away than usual. A friend, Annie, and I mentioned to each other the possibility of going to Assisi, where we both had designs on going. It was agreed and with us came a third friend, Lisa. Thursday night a group of 8 or so of us went to Salamanca, a Spanish-style bar that, with its name and atmosphere tries to present a Castillian face, but with its clientele exudes American. Despite the lack of locals or diversity or language other than English, we did get some amazingly delicious Sangria, essentially red wine with fruit and fruit juice. Very delicious. The group stayed there quite late, and then the three of us met quite early at the Florence train station in order to catch the 8:00 Assisi train. Two and a half hours later, I was pointing out to Lisa and Annie the familiar, white back of the Basilica San Francesco -- ah how I'd missed it.

We took a bus from the station up to the main area and presently went to the basilica. But not before I found the small road that we'd had to walk up five years ago when I was in Italy with my high school. We'd parked at the bottom of the hill and then made our way up a winding road. Along the way there had been a small cottage which I'd taken a photo of at the time -- it turned out to be one of my favorite photos of Europe. I re-took it, framed (by my memory) exactly the same -- call it a stupid habit.

We visited the basilica, the cathedral and the rest of the town, the girls were entranced, as was I (again). The time I spent here five years ago was very, very brief (two hours at the most), but it had made a tremendous impact. I fell in love with Assisi, and being back with several hours worth of time was amazing. The streets are the classic Italian streets: small, winding, cobble-stoned and brightly painted. The town is on the edge of a mountain, and it clings to the streets and winds up and down extensively. Walking for fifteen minutes is more than idle exercise: I was panting after a few minutes.

The weather could not have been more idyllic. Clouds dappled the sky, but any time the sun got near one, the cloud inexplicably dissipated, allowing for uninterrupted sunshine all day long -- though the weather was never higher than 35 degrees F; there was snow in the areas of permanent shadow. From the edge of a mountain, looking down into the positively enormous valley the city overlooks, the sky was a perfect blue, rarefied (thanks Frank) by the altitude, and the valley was green everywhere, dotted by the towns and cities miles away.

We wound our way around the mountain and came out near the Rocco Magiore (Big Castle, I think?). Like most castles built on hills, it had a view that was literally breath-taking. Again taking the opportunity to stand in what I was certain was the EXACT same spot as the last time I saw this awesome panoramic vista, I was held in awe by the shadow/sunlight pattern which seemed to paint the valley before me; behind me the mountains rose quickly and steep, snow was only a couple hundred feet above our heads. There was a brisk, delicious-smelling wind blasting down from the snow-covered mountains we could see far in the distance, between an enormous cleft in two mountains.

We got into the castle (which I begrudgingly admitted later was worth the 4euro) and toured around a medieval castle and then were able to get atop their two towers -- one with a complete 360degree view! Another panorama shot and I was happy as a clam.

At this point, I imagine most are asking, so where are these photos, Ross? Why no link to the PhotoBucket account, why no embedded photos? Well, fellow adventurers, that's the next part of our story.

We went to a small cafe for a brief lunch around 2:00. While there I went through and parsed out the duplicate and triplicate photos I'd taken at different exposures, finding the perfect ones (OK, I'm in love with digital photography). I ended up with 50 photos that I was well pleased with. I reached around behind me and set the camera on the table behind me and had my lunch. It was turning into a perfect day. We got up to leave, just about the only visitors in the entire place -- it is nice sometimes to travel in off-season! -- and I tucked my chair in.

I don't know how and I'll never forgive myself for not noticing, but my camera's strap had somehow gotten wrapped around some part of my chair and as I pushed the chair in, the camera fell to the ground. I heard a definitive crack and when I picked it up, the photos were gone -- apparently a four foot drop on to a hard HARD tile floor jars a memory card enough that it becomes unrecognizable by a camera? I dunno, but that's what happened. In addition to that, the aperture, the mechanism which regulates light flow onto the film, was damaged. I could see the damaged unit when I removed the lens from the camera and looked through the lens. Bad, bad news.

Most unfortunately, the rest of the trip was somewhat sombre for me. I managed to keep a light heart about it: what was done was done and I could still enjoy the rest of Assisi. And I did, for the most part. In fact, I succeeded in doing something I'd hoped to do for five years since I'd been in Assisi last: I managed to find a path which leads from the castle to the basilica. By intentional wandering and trying to get lost the last time I was here, I found this beautiful little path/street/via and I have always been determined to find it again: as it was etched into my mind. Sure enough, just as unmarked as before, it turns out it's a footpath, which leads to a quiet alley, which forks to a sidewalk, which meets a courtyard which leads to a driveway, and I found it all with almost no hesitation. Unlike most fond memories, it had become more beautiful with time.

Saturday and Sunday passed fairly uneventfully and I woke early this morning and brought my camera to the only Nikon repair store. 90euro and the lens can be fixed, there's no damage to the camera. Grazie a dios. But 90euro is a hefty price, and it could even mean canceling a trip in the future.

Ah well. The camera & lens will be OK, the pictures might MIGHT be retrievable and I got to see Assisi and completely soak it up. Despite the near heartbreak, I did and will survive and had a marvelous time in Assisi.

The moral of the story? Leave your camera close to the ground or in a place where it won't be able to attempt suicide. Oh and visit Assisi -- it's unreal.

Hoping you're all well and happy and flourishing!

-Ross-

Installment 05 of the Ross Chronicles -- Vienna!

Tutti amici,

A few preliminaries. First, sorry this update finds you halfway through this week, with my limited internet time I haven't had much opportunity to respond to e-mails since Monday (and I couldn't at all over the weekend). I had many e-mails from people wishing me luck on my so-called "mystery trip", so thank you! And thanks for the subsequent e-mails asking where this update was! Here it is! Also, here are some photos from the week before my trip and the weekend in ... Vienna, Austria! Also, it turns out this is very long. Sorry!

http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Feb%2010%20Vienna/
http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Feb%2010%20Florence/

In accordance with the wishes of a girl I met in Vienna, I have to start by pointing out what I hope is obvious: Vienna is the capital city of the country of Austria. Austria is not Germany, nor has it ever been. They do speak the same German as Germany does, however. Do Americans know all this?

Wednesday night I trained over to Pisa to find out from the Pisa Int'l Airport what kind of flights I could find. Answer: none. So I decided to walk across town to find an internet cafe in order to find out what tickets I could buy for either Thursday or train destinations for Wed night. I ended up looking at a map of Europe and circling my finger with my eyes closed and landed on Austria. So I chose "Wien" and went to the Pisa train station. The helpful (thankfully) English-speaking girl there told me there was an overnight train there from... you guessed it! Florence. So I trained BACK to Florence, waited for an hour and a half and then got on an overnight train to Vienna, Austria.

I met an Australian (Australia, not Austria) backpacker in my same cabin and we chatted most of the night away. She was getting off earlier than me, and once she left I snoozed in my chair. At about 8am, I arrived at Sudbahnoff, the train station in Vienna for most Italian and southern trains.

First things first, I set off in search of a hostel. Fortunately, there was an info booth which had lots of info on local sights and hostels. I read through the packet and ended up choosing the one that had the cheapest price projections. I compared the mini-map in the hostel info packet to the larger map I had of the city and decided on a direction to walk. I also decided on the best train I could leave on -- another overnight train leaving Saturday night. So I bought that ticket.

I managed to find the hostel. The streets in Vienna are quite difficult to work out - I couldn't quite always make out what street I was looking at and sometimes the street names were abbreviated on maps, so I was looking for "Fahngras" from the map and the street sign would read "Fakhengrasse Strazza" -- OH! For 30euro I got a bed amidst three others. I went up to the room (which was - like the rest of the hostel, inside and out - painted extraordinarily green) and found that I had two roommates, who were out of the room at the time. I unpacked, decompressed and got out before 10:30, when the rooms were closed for cleaning (from 10:30 - 2:30, all the rooms were off-limits!)

So I went into Vienna. Wow, what a city. It's a lot like Florence, in that the buildings are ancient (far older than anything we in the States can understand) and close together. But Vienna has a sense of space that Florence simply doesn't. Whether it's Vienna's history of being a positively enormous empire and having a capital city to match, or something about Austrians, the city was a bit wider, as were the streets, and felt a bit more calmed than Florence. There were also many larger buildings, one didn't get the sense that the most expensive palaces still had to compete with the other buildings around them. No, in Vienna, the palaces were... well, palatial. They took up plenty of space and owned the space around them.

Another thing that struck me was the art. Just like in Florence, the Viennese are surrounded by jaw-dropping art & statues that we would (and do) pay to see, and they're all but ignored by the people walking past them. It's often said deragatorily that you can spot a tourist because he's the one looking around. I say that it's stupid of the natives not to take in all this art every chance they get!

My first day there, I visited the Schmetterling Haus (leave it to German to have a crazy word for it), or the Butterfly House. It seemed like an appropriate thing to do, as I was right next to the royal palace, and I'd heard of the Emperial Butterfly House before. Well it was worth it. Despite my camera fogging up for over half an hour, the place was great! A greenhouse filled with tropical decorations and made up to look like a slice of rainforest, there were literally butterflies wherever you looked. I feared to walk quickly that I might step on a gravel-camoflaged butterfly! After waiting for what felt like ages for it to un-fog, I ended up getting some pretty OK shots of the Schmetterling Haus.

The subway system in Vienna is great. It might even rival that of London - which by most accounts is one of the finest in the EU. Hopping on and off the sub was easy, and it was fairly possible to navigate without any understanding of German. And it was well-organized enough to take you wherever you might want in their beautiful, huge city.

That night, I took the sub to what I was directed to as the "nightlife" area (but warned that there really wasn't much of one). I stopped at Starbucks, as it was still early, and had my first of two surprising encounters. I met a girl and a boy who I first thought were a young man and woman. They were sitting near me and I struck up a conversation. We talked politics, international politics, art, media, travel, education, careers and the future of the planet. It had been a while since I'd had such a down-to-earth conversation with fellow semi-adults. And then it turned out that I was conversing with 16 year-olds. I did a sort of double take. These juniors in high school were better informed about their country's internal & international comings and goings than most college-aged Americans are. Additionally, they were more communicative, cheerful, bright and eager than most Americans of any age. To say I was impressed by these two (by all appearances) plain Austrian teenagers would be an understatement.

When I found a nightclub with pool tables and a nice-sized bar, I also found a delightfully large & cheap weizen beer that was great. After watching some billiards, I noticed a huge table in the back area -- and then learned what Snooker is and how to play. Imagine pool with too many balls and far more rules on a table twice the width & length. But it was also there that I found some guys and girls whom I again mistakenly assumed to be my age. Sitting and talking amiably over beers while smoking and playing pool, I struck up a conversation with an assortment of kids who were going to a local int'l, English-speaking school. After some time, I learned it was an int'l high school -- they were all younger than seventeen. The same reaction as before: they're calmer, cooler, more responsible drinkers, more interested and more communicative than most any American 17 year-old I've ever met.

Saturday I meandered again, but got directed to a particular palace, the Schonbrunn Palace. http://www.wien.info/article.asp?IDArticle=3098 OK wow. I could spend days at the Schonbrunn and probably not get bored. To call it enormous would do it injustice. The palace itself was one of the biggest palaces I've ever seen. It's "driveway", if you will, was big enough for two or three football fields. It's "backyard" could have fit dozens of football fields, baseball diamonds and soccer pitches. I was flabbergasted. If you imagine rich, sumptous, enormous balls - like you think of from Cinderella - held at huge palaces, this is what comes to mind. I could just imagine this place made up with lights, lanterns, tables and the works, which it was in the 18th century. On top of that, there was a building at the top of a hill behind it which overlooked the palace and the entire city. My photos show some of what I'm talking about, but they really don't do it justice -- it was an amazing experience. The area was so vast, and there was so much to see and take photos of, I simply couldn't keep up. Unfortunately, it was overcast and the weather kept changing, so many of the photos are a bit under- & over-exposed -- sorry!

I wandered for a bit more that day and found an island in the middle of their river (I forget the name) and then decided to head back to the hostel and get ready to go out for the night. I wanted to go back to the poolhall area, but I also wanted to stop by a sausage stand I'd eaten lunch at and grab a beer. The beers at the stand were 950mL -- which is quite a lot -- for 1euro, and I thought it'd be fun to have a beer with some locals and then hit the bars and meet some more. Well...

I got there, got my beer and quickly struck up a conversation with a local who spoke about as much English as I speak Italian. He delighted in discovering what I was trying to say and loved to pry information out of me with the very little common language we had - and then to pass it on to his comrades (a Hungarian, Pole and Armenian) who spoke no English. After an hour of this, a beer was bought for me. After a short time, an old man came up who spoke excellent English. Turns out, he was born in Austria & and at 18 moved to S.Africa where he joined a private army and for about six years traveled Africa -- eventually being shot three times. He then moved to Berlin for a dozen years where he watched the wall come down. What a guy, he was utterly disillusioned with life in Austria, hated most Austrians for their closedmindedness and longed for the wild times of Africa. "But I've got cancer now, and well, once I fight it off -- because, you see, I know I'm not going to die -- I'm going back to Africa. I was shot three times, you know? You want to see the scars-- no? OK, but ah, Africa..." We spoke for nearly an hour, he bought me two more beers. By 11:00, the stand had closed, our beers were gone and we said our goodbyes. I was worried the next morning would be a tough one.

I was right. That much beer and I rarely get along -- though this time was better than usual. I got breakfast down, coffee helped, and then I decided to do what every traveler to Vienna must do: see the music museums! So I went to Haus der Musik. http://www.hdm.at/en/2.htm Wonderful, informative, well-built, aesthetic throughout, fascinating, bright, it was a positively wonderful time! I had forgotten that Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Strauss (Jr. & Sr.), Brahms and Schonberg were all from Austria, but the Austrians hadn't! In addition to a lot of information on their pride(s) & joy(s), the museum had a lot of technology of music information. There was a section which had fantastic interactive data about what sound is, how we detect pitch, distance of sound, etc. I had a great time. I ended up spending most of the day there.

I finished up at the Technology Museum of Austria - http://www.tmw.ac.at/default.asp?id=1&cid=0&al=Englisch&am= - a former palace that was completely re-worked to fit all sorts of things, like several train locomotives, a steam turbine and an ore smelter (one of the enormous ones). I have no idea how they got so much enormous, heavy machinery and whatnot into this place, but they did -- and had room to spare. It was very interesting, not very hands-on, but still fascinating, and I had a great time. They had a number of different themes and exhibits, and I particularly enjoyed seeing the old cars. Then I got on the train and got back to Florence Sunday morning.

I've already gone on far too long, and I feel like I haven't touched on the heart of my trip: the TRAVELING. Going to Pisa and discovering that there were no cheap flights was tough: NOW what do I do? I had to go through the city -- hoping I wouldn't get turned around: I had no map till I could find a store! -- looking for an Internet Point! Then on the train, I helped the Australian who was apparently dyslexic find out where she was going -- not only did she find reading terribly difficult, it was all in German! In Vienna I had to quickly learn how the subways worked, what the passes meant, how to validate the 72-hour ticket (which I never once had to present!), where the street signs were, what some of the words of the language meant, how to say "Do you speak German?" in Austrian (which I wasn't immediately sure was German -- how would I know?). It was emotionally difficult not to get a bit nervous at times that I might have just lost myself or stranded myself somewhere, but it was also a great learning experience to find that, 'No, no I'm OK'.

An old man who spoke virtually NO English helped me from one part of town all the way to the other in order to make sure I found the train station and my particular train. He was from Poland and spoke little German and either didn't realize or didn't believe that I could find my train on my own and went 30 minutes out of his way to help me; he also gave me his address & phone number in Poland -- presumably if I ever needed a place in Krakow to stay! I couldn't believe how kind he was, and he was merely microcosmic of the people in Vienna: difficult to know (they speak German) but willing to help if you appealed in the right way. Most people on the subs seemed distant, aloof and even hostile, but the moment I smiled, or asked them if they spoke English and if they could help me, they warmed up and became almost cheerful. Is America like this? I am afraid to say no.

This was a huge learning experience for me. I expect that I will no longer be intimidated by subways or trains in any country after this. While I don't feel like I could go anywhere in any city, I do feel like I know what subway systems are supposed to do, and how they normally do it - and so can work them out wherever I might be. It was also interesting to experience all of this alone. None of my companions from here in Florence came with me, so I got to (and had to) feel everything out for myself.

This was a wonderful weekend, and I am so, so glad not only that I did it but also that I chose Vienna. It was absolutely beautiful, and just about the only thing I'm absolutely positive of after three days there is that I'd need three weeks to be even close to satisfied.

Some tips!
1) If you're in a city where you wear your scarf every day and you're traveling north, don't forget the scarf!
2) If your aunt gave you a travel book with info and Must-See sights for Europe, and you're going to a European city you don't know the FIRST THING ABOUT, don't forget the book!
3) If you're in Vienna, you must eat a bratwurst. Served sliced up alongside a piece of bread, they're to die for! Add a big, cheap beer, and I SERIOUSLY considered never returning to Florence or America right then and there.
4) Never, ever care what people think about you. Of the tens of thousands of people you will see in a day, maybe two of them will remember you thirty seconds after they notice you, NONE will remember you after that. Don't be afraid to look like a tourist, don't be afraid to have your camera in-hand, don't be afraid to ask for help or directions, if they won't help you, someone else WILL.
5) If you're in Vienna, watch out for dog crap. If you think you've seen terrible amounts of terribly-sized dog crap on sidewalks, you have seen nothing until you walk through Vienna for six hours a day for three days. Judging by the sizes of some of these land-mines, I honestly think that I must have just BARELY been missing the common spectacle of people taking their pet rhinoceroses for walks.

Thanks for your attention, I look forward to your responses, they're always happily welcomed!

Happily,

-Ross-

An Adventure in the Making

Dear all,

With the group I'm with, we normally have classes every day of the week, about two a day. The directors purposely tried to organize classes in such a way that we'd have a few long weekends. This weekend is one of those weekends. We have no classes Thursday or Friday, so many people are taking the opportunity of a four-day weekend to go to such exotic locales as Greece, Germany, Istanbul, etc. What I decided to do was a bit different: After Italian class today, around 4:00, I'm going to board a train to Pisa, a hub for cheap airlines like Ryan Air & EasyJet.

I'm going to go to the ticket counter and find out where the next, cheapest flight goes. If it's cheap, I'll get on it and spend the weekend where I end up. I sure hope this works out well. But what I'm looking forward to most is that there's very little that could happen to ruin it! If I find a cheap, dismal, awful, cold hostel, that's part of the adventure - just like finding a cheap, warm, not-smelly hostel would be! Wish me luck!

Cheers,

-Ross-