Walking, Watching, Writing

Installment 09 of the Ross Chronicles -- VENICE!

2009-03-12T16:51:00.002+01:00

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

2009-03-03T17:23:00.001+01:00

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

2009-02-28T16:15:00.000+01:00

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

2009-02-19T17:24:00.005+01:00

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

2009-02-16T18:29:00.001+01:00

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!

2009-02-09T17:02:00.000+01:00

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

2009-02-04T16:28:00.000+01:00

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-

An Adventure!

2009-02-02T16:27:00.000+01:00

So Saturday.

I woke up late - which was delightful - and decided to walk to and inspect the three frescoes I needed to analyze for a paper I have for one of my classes -- good times, right? Well it turned out to be really lovely. First I walked to the Mercato Centrale and got a nice big loaf of bread, along with some delicious flat bread flavored with herbs and spices that my marvelous history professor has gotten me addicted to. From Mercato Centrale I walked to Santa Maria Novella and entered their cloisters (an area reserved for monks of a monastery) (the cloisters are now a museum) in order to view Ecclesia, a beautiful wall-sized fresco in what is called the Spanish Chapel. After staring at that bit of work for 30-40 minutes and taking down some notes (everyone who came in thought I worked there and asked if they could take photos: no lavoro qui, dammit! [eventually I just started saying, certo, yes of course]) on it, I went just outside to the cloisters where there was the second piece I had to analyze, another wall fresco, much smaller, though, and also about 100 years 'newer'. It had been exposed to the elements and also watering troughs for military horses during the Napoleonic wars, so it is mostly ruined, but I sat and stared at that for a good 30-40 minutes and took notes. Then I hoofed it across town (snacking on one of the delicious pieces of Idontrememberthename) to Santa Maria del Carmine to see the Brancacci Chapel. I took my notes there too, looking at Tribute Money and thoroughly enjoying myself. Finished with that, I strolled back home, it was now about 4pm.

And now the adventure begins.

5:30; I had just blown the last hour and a half doing a whole lot of nothing, so I decided to read, but while I did that I realized I wanted a bottle of wine, maybe for immediate drinking, maybe for after supper, maybe for some other day. I took a jaunt to the local 'Bancomat' - or ATM - and pulled some cash, then went to the corner store and picked out their finest bottle of 2euro wine. Content with my purchase, I headed back home. While I was climbing the stairs, I recognized the forms of my host parents leaving in the lift as I went up. 'Oh', I thought, 'They must be going shopping.' And I thought correctly. I let myself into the apartment and went to my room. I hung my keys up and un-fastened my backpack. I have a single-sling backpack which has a discconecting strap and as I let the snap go, the strap fell from my fingers and my backpack fell to the ground - rapidly. It landed with a definite 'crunch' and I thought to myself, 'Self, you just broke that bottle of wine.' Sure as shingles, I picked up my backpack to find it fatally wounded: blood streamed from its rearend. I hurried to the bathroom to receive a towel or four. (Incidentally, the towels I used were the same towels that Evan and I must force into the space beneath the door when we shower, as our entire cell-sized bathroom doubles as a shower -- for a while Evan and I were worried that they might be getting mildewy; well now that they soaked up so much alcohol, I'm fairly certain their germ-free! Evan was glad to hear this part of the story.) (And by the way, Evan was gone this weekend with his girlfriend who came into town) I got the backpack to the sink and fished out the largest pieces. Then, deciding it was a lost cause to do more than rince the backpack out for the time being, I filled it - while it rested in the sink - with water and then cleaned the floor.

As I stood in my room (now scented with the refreshing odor of grape juice), I decided I wasn't going to allow the physical universe to thwart my intentions. I had wanted that bottle of wine, dammit, and I was now as sure as hell is hot that I wanted that bottle of wine! So I grabbed my coat, re-filled my backpack with water and headed out the front door, only to discover upon my return from the store that while I had left with my chin held high and my dignity intact, I had - in fact - not brought my keys.

So I sat down on the stoop of the apartment building. Cristina and Bruno had already been gone quite a while, surely they'd return shortly. A neighbor happened by and I followed him in and sat outside of our apartment on the 3rd floor. As I sat there contemplating what I'd do without any significant amount of money, iPod, map, book, or even initiative to go do anything, I remembered that the lights in the stairwell are on a timer: in order to conserve energy, the lights go off every two minutes or so - easily turned back on by a switch at every floor. As I sat there I thought, 'Hm. It's actually been just about two mi-' As I sat there in the dark, I considered turning the lights back on. 'Why bother?' I thought aloud 'It's not like there's anything more to see in the light.' And I was right, staring at a narrow staircase with lights on feels much the same with the lights off.

After twenty minutes of thinking the big thoughts, I realized I was tired. 'Ah hell,' I thought, 'Might as well lay back and close my eyes. The stairwell is silent, so I'd hear anyone coming out of their room and could sit up before they saw me snoozing, and the lights would wake me if someone was coming up the stairs.' So I napped lightly for thirty minutes. And then I got up. I took the elevator to the ground floor and trudged to a local cafe and got a cappucino - but not after secreting my long sought-after wine bottle into a small niche near our door that holds the power grid nonsense.

My cappuccino enjoyed, I palmed a packet of cane sugar (which I love oh-so-much) and made my way to a small park nearby. I sat on the parkbench, slowly eating wet pinkyfingertip of sugar at wet pinkyfingertip of sugar at a time. I found out the time was 8:10. 'Well' I thought, 'supper is always at 8:30, so Cristina and Bruno MUST be home by now!' I walked the 8 minutes back to the apartment (again getting lucky with a neighbor coming in) JUST in time to discover that Cristina and Bruno must NOT be home by then. So I explored the apartment building a little bit, found out there IS roof access but the grill & lock to get there is 'imposing' to say the absolute least and I also discovered that the lift in the building won't operate if the doors of the lift are opened while it's in movement, but there's a way to circumvent it if you jimmy the right lever in one of the doors. So that was fun.

FINALLY I think to myself, 'Self, it's time to go outside.' As I'm descending to the ground floor, IN walk Cristina and Bruno! Ciao! Che fortuna! Ho dimenticato miei chiavi! Oh no, they say, how long have you been waiting. A silence ... ah... cinque minuti! five minutes! - My Italian's not good enough to explain the story to them.

It was the work of a few moments to weasle my way back outside to the hiding niche and bring the bottle of wine in - not that Cristina and Bruno would have minded my bringing wine in the house, but that they probably would have wondered at my pulling it out of a wall alcove when we were coming up the stairs, and I didn't want to bother explaining.

So how's that for a STUPID adventure?

Hope you enjoyed it!

Ciao!

Food in Italy - Italian Food!

2009-02-01T16:20:00.000+01:00

(Pictures! http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Uploaded%20Jan%2026%202009/ As promised, I'm in some of these!) (no time to caption them, sorry! They're from Santa Maria Novella, Chianti, Chocolate fair & cloisters of San Lorenzo)
(Ooops, so I'm trying to bring this blog up to speed in a hurry, and it looks like I uploaded photos of THIS installment into last week's post. Sorry abou'cha.)

Ragazzi e ragazze,

Ciao from Florence! My subject today will be food here in Italy. I'll perhaps encompass a few other subjects, but for today, let's talk about everyone's favorite subject: food.

I'm going to leave the best for last and instead start off with the more difficult, less enjoyable aspects of eating here while abroad and move toward the better parts. It'll be an adventure for all of us, me through memory and you all through vicariousness (vicariosity?).

The constant companion of every traveler is money - or lack thereof. Unfortunately, the far more regular, reliable companion of every traveler is food. This remarkable combination, budget & food is the panic that grips every traveler, some more than others, but at some point we must all (travelers aside) make the choice of what's more important, personal satisfaction and comfort, or financial stability? I have been erring on the side of financial stability since I arrived here.

This is because our Italian host families are obliged to treat us to breakfast & supper, and we're on our own for lunch. Working out how much money I have (read: becoming terrified when I discovered how little money I have) to spend while here in Europe brought home to me the importance of eating cheap meals and making the most of the ones I get.

"Breaking fast" in Italy is a bit of a misnomer - it's more like "prolonging fast" or "postponing ever-so-slightly fast". Italians believe that coffee is the best way to start the day, and only coffee. Asking for bread & butter or a bowl of cereal is like asking - in the States - for curry on your peanut butter - people will do it if asked, but you just don't ask. So I've managed to convince our family I typically eat something between 8am and noon, so they supplied me with bread and butter - which has worked out quite nicely. A few pieces of bread and an apple at 10 keeps me going to about 1 in the afternoon -- who knew, right?

Then there's the issue of lunch. What to do? There's a huge open-air market nearby where we all have enjoyed shopping for produce and other foodstuffs, but I quickly discovered that rather than spend 3 euro on a panini from some cafe, I was instead spending 12 euro on bread, cheese and meat that would last me 3 days. (You do the math.) I decided this wouldn't work out and so decided to change tactics and instead head for more bread. I tried buying a loaf of bread, but it was white bread, and it wasn't holding me out very well.

And then I found it. In another stall I had somehow overlooked every other time I came into Mercato Centrale, I found a delightful bakery stall with TONS of whole-grain breads. Breads with nuts and fruit, whole-grain, you name it, it has it. So for the last week and a half, I've been buying a loaf of bread about the size of half a football for 1.50 euro! And that's been my lunch, and it has TOTALLY been lasting me. The presence of the nuts, grains, and dark bread has acted as pure energy for my carb-hungry body. I've been supplementing my carbs with two or three pieces of fruit a day, found upstairs for usually less than 1euro/day. Brilliant! So the lunch scene is handled: beautiful, dark, whole-grain bread with PLENTY of nuts & grains to nibble away at for hours and some fruit.

Supper. Ah supper. I wait all day for supper, and it's usually well worth it. We eat at 8:30 every night, almost without variation. We have three courses every time 1) Soup or pasta 2) meat with vegetable 3) fruit. The soups and pastas have been, understandably, delicious. Our host mother is quite a good chef and she has done a great job of making simple pasta with almost no sauce at all. We have simple tomato sauce, olive oil and pesto. Stark and delicious! The meats are usually some simple beef or pork and some boiled vegetable, usually boiled beyond recognition - the one down side of the meal. The fruit is usually apples, bananas, oranges or kiwi. More often than not I'm very, very satisfied with the meals and very happy to have them.

Except.

Last Thursday I smelled fish cooking. I'm not the biggest fish fan. I got into supper and had the soup, which was good and fishless. Then supper was served and it was a (literally) heaping pile of crustaceans. I saw & recognized shrimp, I saw some thin, noodle-looking things, I saw something that looked suspiciously disgustingly like a squid head and then, horror of horrors, A TENTACLE WITH SUCKERS STILL ATTACHED. I fought the urge my stomach had to close up. I forced myself to have an open mind about it and try it. The taste was OK and the texture was horrifying, but at this point I had already made up my mind to grin and bear it and eat the food that was placed before me -- eat when you can, you don't know when the next one'll be! And when I ate the tentacle, the suckers fell off onto my tongue. Delightful.

Apart from that, it's been quite tasty and delicious.

Some of the photos in today's installment are from Florence's annual chocolate fair! A large festival in the Piazza Santa Croce of chocolate. Only chocolate. And it was delicious. Hot chocolate was basically pure warmed bricks of chocolate. It was divine. Words cannot express.

I hope you're all well and enjoyed thinking about the pasta, pizza, soup, fruit, bread and dishes I'm enjoying here in Italy -- it is as wonderful as you'd hope!

With love and best wishes,

-Ross-

Installment 04 of the Ross Chronicles

2009-01-13T16:08:00.004+01:00

Check for my most recent photos! (some friends mentioned that I wasn't in the last ones. I was going to try to be in the next batch, but I failed. I promise I'll get people to take photos of me with MY camera next time - rather than with theirs)
Also, it seems Photobucket is being rather rude, and I can't store as many photos as I'd like to in one folder, so some of my newest photos are in "Florence 2009" and some of the newest ones are in "Florence 2 2009" and the "London 2009" are all new too.
http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/

Dear friends, family & everyone else!

Well here I am, another Monday. I was surprised yesterday to realize that since it was the 18th, I had spent exactly 14 days in Florence. The most stand-out part of that? While I've been taking 3 hours of language courses for the last 10 days, a sentence with as many tense shifts and questionable subjects as there are in the previous sentence would be COMPLETELY beyond me in Italian, but as my roommate Evan and I take delight in daily: we can now converse with and like 4 year-olds!!

We had a very exciting moment the other day in Italian class: we learned to speak in the most basic of past tenses! No longer were Evan and I to be stuck in the present! We could move out of simply DOING things and move into the bright world of HAVING done things. And today we have learned to speak in the most basic of future tenses! Now we can ANTICIPATE doing things in addition to DOING them and HAVING done them! Language is an amazing thing, folks, let me tell you. Of course we can not speak of a time in the past when we were doing something, a time in the past when something was already finished at that point, a time in the present when something is currently being done, a time in the future when something will have already been done or a few other tenses particular to Italian, but HEY - we're moving right along, aren't we? (And don't bother asking how to differentiate when something is IN, AT, NEAR, INTO, OUT OF or BY something, because Italian prepositions are just a bit strange.)

But in addition to the exciting world of language (which really is something I'm revelling in -- I've loved the study of language and communication itself for quite a while), we've started going to a few monasteries and churches, which are - expectably - beautiful. We've had a really great time at some of these places, I'm immensely pleased to be going with a woman, Janet Smith, who is positively brilliant when it comes to the history of these places. It's mind-boggling how well she manages to remember details and aspects of these museum pieces, pieces of art and other aspects of a building or work, and I'm loving the opportunity to study under her. Additionally, there is another class here, a study of Italian traditions and social norms as carried through folktales and other literary pieces. Taught by Nick Regiacorte (who's actually American), I'm LOVING that course as well, Nick is a great man and a wonderful professor. He's a great communicator and he takes absolute pleasure in the entire learning experience. We've already read Virgil's Georgics, and the analysis was really great. Things are looking up in the academic area.

My host family, the Campus family, is amazing. They are kind, helpful, attentive and very eager to help us with our Italian. Our host brother & sister, Francesco & Beatrice, are away from the house often, but when they're over for supper, it's an absolute delight to see a full Italian family (especially with the added numbers with the occasional appearance of Francesco's girlfriend, Ina) -- loud, boisterous, energetic & emotional. It has been a positive blast spending time with them. I feel like I'm repeating myself, sorry if I am, but Bruno and Cristina are very good at speaking slowly and simply to help Evan and me understand what is being said and - more importantly - HOW it's being said.

On a bit of an exciting note, last weekend (not yesterday, but 8 days ago) I had the exciting news that one of my best friends, Erin, was in England for a week. I decided I had to go see her, so I checked prices and lo and behold, the rumors are true - flights within Europe are quite cheap. So here was the exciting adventure: I trained to Pisa, I flew to Gatwick Airport in London, I then took a train from Gatwick to Victoria Train Station in downtown London. Erin and I spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning hanging out and seeing parts of London - which is why some of the photos you'll see if you follow the link somewhere in this e-mail are of London. Most interestingly was this: while we were looking for a Whole Foods market she'd seen earlier (first Whole Foods ever in Europe is in London!), we came across a positively ENORMOUS rally complaining against Israel's actions in Gaza. Here's the tale:

Erin and I got off a particular tube stop and started walking down the street in the direction she knew would take us in the general direction of Whole Foods. As we walked, we noticed a positively huge line of greenish-yellow adorned people down the street. As the line got closer, it was obvious it was a line of police officers, behind them were THOUSANDS of people, PACKED into a 4-lane boulevard. Erin and I got closer, and it was obvious EVERY square inch of space was taken up by the protesters. So we quickly got near a small embankment in the center of the road, which would be originally passed by the protesters, who had to walk around it, and were able to get a look at the thousands upon thousands of people walking past us (almost like a boulder in a river or the lee of an island). The numerous photos show that there was no end to the line! I was shocked at how many people there were. Apparently there were reports later ranging from 100,000 to 200,000 in attendance! Erin and I did not wait around for that long. After 20 minutes we followed the crowd (it happened to be going our way) to Whole Foods which was closed because of the rally! ARGH! The rally was aiming for the Israeli embassy building in London, and the photos which show people jumping up and down on a wall are of the Israeli consulate.

(please note that these photos do NOT dictate my political views, and I do not necessarily support or endorse anything perceived by the photos)

So that's the update for now! I hope you're all well, Florence certainly is. The weather has been hanging around 40 degrees and it's been a bit damp, especially recently, but that's MUCH better than what I hear you unfortunate midwesterners are going through. So sorry!

Peace,

-Ross-

Installment 03 of the Ross Chronicles

2009-01-13T15:58:00.000+01:00

Bion giorno!

Florence is wonderful, let me tell you. Life here is quite a trick. I think the most interesting thing is being surrounded by tourists, (of course, I am a traveler, quite a difference) but you tend to get over that pretty quickly, and when you recognize the true Italians, it's quite a bit of fun to know the culture -- though I suppose the tourists & travelers make up the culture too. Also, as I just found out, their keyboards are different from ours, so I'm going to avoid using an apostrophe, as it is in a weird place.

So much has happened in the last week, it is not even worth it to bother trying to fully explain everything. I will mention a few of the high points, and then we will see where that leaves us.

There are certain things about Florence that I think we can all agree are amazing. Without a doubt, the architecture is one of them, not only the ancient, huge-building architecture, but also the simple architecture of houses and apartments. One cannot help but get beaten over the head with the simple beauty and awesome aesthetic nature of many of these houses and places. I think that one of my favorite aspects of the city is the feeling that while some of the rows of houses and streets must have been palaces and entire units in a past life, many of the buildings also seem to have nothing to do with their neighbors. So looking down any given road, one seems to see entirely different styles, heights, heights of windows, width of buildings and colors. The streets are winding and curvy, and while there is room for a car, sometimes it seems like there is just BARELY enough room.

The street pavement is interesting too. I do not think that there is any city in America that would have such cobbled streets or non-uniform streets, gutters or sidewalks. Also, the randomity level is a LOT higher. Drivers are screeching around corners, other cars & drivers and pedestrians and everywhere you get the sense that while it is a bit crazy, it is also completely safe and OK.

I have traveled to a few of the bigger highlights of the city, the Duomo, the Baptistery, the Plaza of Michelangelo, the churches of Santa Croce and Santa Maria Novella, and other major buildings. I have been eating a rather impressive amount of good food and gelato, and overall my navigation of the city is getting better and better. The city streets of Florence are fascinating - while sometimes it is very easy to navigate and find one's way, at other times it is very, very difficult. For example, last week Thursday, I left the monument I was near, thinking I had a pretty good bearing on "home" because of where I was standing and what I could see. I traveled the distance which should have gotten me back to my Italian family's home only to discover that I was at a large intersection that SEEMED like the one I was looking for but was not quite it. I explored that area, trying to find the particular street that would take me home and eventually became frustrated enough to ask for directions. I knew I was not lost - after all, in Florence as long as you can see the Duomo, you have SOME idea of where you are - but I did not want to be late for supper because I had to go all the way back to the Duomo and start over. I found out that the street I had thought would take me home had actually slowly wound its way east rather than north, and I ended up about 2 miles away from the house. It was a short hike home after that.

Speaking of which, my Italian family is amazing - absolutely wonderful & fantastic. Bruno and Caterina Campus, with a son Francesco and a daughter Beatrice. Francesco has a girlfriend (ragazza) who is often at the house, and the five of them have helped me and my roommate, Evan, enormously with our learning the language. I am really enjoying trying to learn the language, I am reminded that while even five-year olds in Italy speak better Italian than I, every language still requires quite a bit of work. The meals are quite pleasant. It is interesting to try and force my body to adapt to the idea of eating a small breakfast, a light lunch and a large supper. I am embarrassed to admit that my American style is to instead want large meals of everything! But my body listens to me well, and everything has been working out.

I feel like I have said nothing and yet taken up too much time. I will part with last night's story.

We finished class at around 4:00. I thought of finding the library (where I am now) to get some time on the i-net, but thought against it while I walked. I decided to seek out the gelateria that my good friend Amelia had suggested to me, but when I crossed the Ponte Carraia, I found that the gelateria was closed for repairs for a few weeks. Disappointed, I thought my night wasted, as now I just wanted to go home. Instead I wandered back to the center of town, found a gelateria there, got some 'frutta di bosca', or berry-flavored, gelato and wandered back the bridge - about 10 minutes both ways. I then sat up on the edge of the bridge (it had about a three-foot 'railing'), with my back against a lamppost and watched the sunset. Since Florence is in a bit of a valley, I could only see it set over the hill and through a few buildings, but it was still quite brilliant and very nice. It helped to rather calm me and quiet my thoughts, which had been running on high for a while. It is amazing what we can miss if we do not take the time to quietly sit and watch. I was amazed at how many people walked past me and noticed me looking at the sunset but walked by anyway. Some smiled and glanced at it, but no one really looked - a shame, but I guess it left more for me.

I will try to come up with a more interesting and less meandering report for you all next time. Thank you for your love and well wishes, everything is WONDERFUL!

With love,

-Ross-

Installment 02 of Ross Chronicles

2009-01-08T15:57:00.000+01:00

Dear all,

I don't have the time right now to write off a whole e-mail about the very exciting developments here in Florence, but I wanted to dump some of the photos I've taken thus far and catch you all up briefly.

My Italian family is delightful - they're pleasant and kind and I have learned an insane amount of Italian in the 4 hours I've spent talking with them.

Here is the link to some photos I've taken here - I hope you enjoy them!

http://s387.photobucket.com/albums/oo314/Ross_Hein/Florence%202009/

Much love, more later,

Installment 01 of Ross Chronicles

2009-01-05T15:49:00.000+01:00

Dear friends and family,

Well here it is, Monday, January 5, 2009, and I've been in Florence for a full 3 days now. It seems that Florence is exactly as I left it, and more. Traveling here was no sweat, the first flight was long but comfortable (thanks SwissAir), apart from needing to squeeze myself & legs into a space that they really shouldn't have to be squeezed into and not standing up for 9 hours, and the second flight was a short hop over the Alps from Zurich into Florence.

We quickly found our way to and got situated in il Pensione Ottaviani, a quaint, slightly cramped, tall hotel near the Santa Maria Novella. As soon as we were in at 3pm, we realized taking a nap might NOT be the best idea, as that could throw our Circadian rhythm off (and no one wants that!), so I brought the two Ripon girls I traveled with, Jessica and Erin, to my favorite spot in Florence, Piazzale Michelangelo, a plaza at the top of a hill in the southeast of Florence that has a terrific view of the entire city. I may have gotten us a bit lost on the way there (perhaps intentionally) and we ended up climbing a hill we didn't NEED to climb, but that's part of the adventure, right?

After that, we meandered to a small pizzeria, got some panini and pizza, walked back to the pensione and collapsed. The next morning, I found I was awake at about 6:30, so I decided it was the right time to go see the Piazzale again, this time with my camera. So I walked through the pre-dawn city of Florence up to the Piazza (I took the direct route this time and got there in about 20 minutes) and took a few pre-dawn photos of the city that will be my home for the next few months. I was very, very happy that the first pictures I took on my Europe trip were also the last photos I took in Florence the last time I was here. Taking the photos reminded me of when I had wandered away (with permission!) from the group in high school and found the Piazza. I then returned to the group and got Dominic and Geoffrey to follow me (I think Nikki and Kellyn tagged along) and they loved the Piazza. So much of Florence has brought back memories, and much more of it has been becoming ingrained in my memory with new memories.

The weather is quite nice, it's high 30s & 40s and only gets quite chilly in the early morning, when the wind is blowing. I've been walking upwards of 6 hours a day, trying to get a bit lost in the city and find my way around - which I suppose is really the only way to know the streets, right? I've seen most of the big landmarks from the outside and can't wait to go inside them with the group I'm with and learn about the history of all the art -- it's going to be amazing, I can already tell.

I thought I'd be much more tired than I have been -- I didn't experience any tiredness from the jetlag, and simply managed to stay awake till 8pm my first night here, but then I woke up before 6am! Since then, I haven't been tired during the day, and have been waking up well before 7am. Every time I realize that I'm up and won't be sleeping more, I figure -- alright! let's go for a walk! This morning I made it to the Mercato Centrale which is a REALLY cool market with all sorts of produce, meat & foodstuffs for sale -- very cool. I'm hoping my body keeps going strong on 6-8 hours of sleep, because, frankly, the city is best at 7am-9am when most of the people on the streets are Florentines.

I started the language course today -- it will go quite nicely. Our group is fairly academic and everyone's keen on learning the language (it sure is a nice incentive to be wandering around a city in which NO ONE speaks your language naturally), so the class should move along nicely. While I've taken some Italian in the past (with prof. Carone at Ripon, briefly and in L.A. for a while), I'm starting over at the beginning: the simplest of conjugations have slipped my mind, and it's just better to start with a clean slate. The school delivering the language classes is different from the "school" I'll be taking classes later in January. I'm taking language with Linguaviva, a language institute in Florence until Jan 26ish, and the formal semester of art history & architecture will be delivered once that's finished by a woman, Janet Smith, who has been here with ACM for a long while.

There are 14 other students here with me now, and only one other guy -- not bad numbers, really. But he makes a good point when he says it's the worst numbers: competition. Since he's the only other guy, we'll be eachother's roommates for the next 5 months, which is good, because we already have gotten along quite well and I can tell it'll continue like that. But everyone else is really great, there is no bad egg in the group, we're all very friendly toward one another and the group dynamic will be quite strong.

The trip could not be going better, and thank you so much to the people who have already contacted me and wished me luck in just my first few days here. I'm absolutely loving it, I'm having a wonderful time, and I'm focusing on seeing much in a lot of time!

The food is great, the weather could NOT be better, the hotel is clean and nice, the city is beautiful and the people are nice. I only hope that I'll be able to encounter some adventures soon -- though I suppose a 20-minute walk to photograph a Florence sunrise is kind of an adventure, huh? We'll see as they come up! And I'll keep you all posted as well as I can!

Feel free to respond with any questions, I'm trying to think of what would be interesting without being boring with specifics, so please ask away! In the many ways it's so different from America, I do miss America, but there are so many things that make it wonderful, too!

Much love and good luck to you all,

Ross