tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56464520911794275942024-02-06T19:59:11.028-08:00follow your rutzjenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-83303948472161528882014-09-10T15:18:00.002-07:002014-09-10T20:01:13.989-07:00La Fine di un' Epoca - The End of an Era<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEtaN1nwHTeAeWVquii52B8HZWK7_kIs3yMgfBd62yxy8ZvYf4wscsE_tNoB3t5lx7aLRu0eKZPbhxiXK5RWbBiCv2EUOLN7MJl8Mc3CMZZqx7NYD9Vely3blH49sC7hDEmayURwWO4juB/s1600/DSC01705.JPG" height="240" width="320" /><br />
The view from my balcony<br />
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In January I plunged back into surfing
as much as I could and Neptune was delivering lots of waves. By
chance I had a few inquiries for english lessons and I made
arrangements to begin in February as I wanted January all to myself
for surfing and planning paintings. In comparison to the previous
year, finding students was effortless as I had a steady flow of
referrals and even found myself doing more lessons than I wanted some
weeks. I also restarted lessons with the doctor who was my student
last year, and I rode my bike 20 minutes to his office once a week.
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One
winter afternoon I had an amazing surf session during a storm. I was
one of only three people in the water and
had caught a few good waves when it started raining and then.........
hailing! It was quite magical and surreal but also difficult to see and a
bit hard on the head so I packed it in and ran back to the
cabin using my board as a shield.
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I went on a few weekend getaways first
to Catania with Zoe in January and then to Pisa/Florence on Valentines weekend with
Zoe and Vicky who had to deliver a puppy and do an audition there.
Unfortunately our Saturday night took a turn for the worse as we went
to a club out of town with a friend turned asshole that we had met in
Palermo on New Years Eve. It was nothing an expensive cab ride
couldn't fix and we'll probably be laughing about that night for awhile.
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The
end of February brought the
departure of a good friend, Gabriele, who was accepted to intern at
the European Commission in Brussels. We had a nice dinner to thank him
as knowing him had really changed our experience in Palermo. Soon after I
was off to London
to meet my mom and her friend, Connie.
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We
enjoyed touring around the
different neighborhoods of London and had a great Sunday roast with a
woman from
our town who lived there. We also spent a friday evening at the theatre
to see the broadways show, Wicked and on Saturday I met up
with my ex-roomate from Florence, Rosie, who had been living in
London and having success as a painter. We spent the evening in
a pub near Camden Market and despite having intentions to go dancing, we
got wrapped up in english banter which ended up
being quite amusing.
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It was near culture shock for my mom
and Connie landing in Palermo from London. My mom compared it to
Mexico. Unfortunately the weather had also taken a turn for the
worse and we often found ourselves caught in the rain. We took a day
trip to Cefalu` and were lucky to have the sun come out and allow us to
climb the path for the breathtaking view. We also planned an overnight
trip in Taormina which was another scenic place that I knew they'd like.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One evening we went for an aperitivo in
the chiavettieri street in the center of Palermo and I invited my friends to join. On the way
there, my British friend Eue was attacked and her bag was stolen.
Then Vicky showed up with her arm in a sling as she had slipped on
the street earlier that day. As bad luck usually goes in threes, the
next day someone robbed 70 euro from my bag in the cabin while I was
surfing.</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Determined
to show my mom and Connie the town Monreale before they left, we
stuck it out waiting for the bus, and then another bus, and then packed
onto a shuttle. Not worth repeating the frustration we decided to
take a taxi back to town after visiting the church and having
lunch.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
On the morning of their departure I accompanied them to the bus stop for
the airport and while we were
waiting a taxi driver offered to take a group of people to
the airport at a good rate, so
they accepted. It's a good thing they did because after saying
goodbye I was running a few errands in the area and 10 minutes
later there was a car in flames directly in front of the stop. I was
thankful that my mom didn't see it as she was already scared for me
living in Palermo as she felt it was dangerous.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
With the vacations over I plunged into
painting and finished my first 2 out of projected 10 paintings in the
following weeks of March. My friend, Claudia, had finished her degree
in medicine and I attended her ceremony and presentation as the university
graduation is a big deal in Italy. She hosted an amazing lunch at
her parents restaurant in Cefala` Diana, a town 20 minutes outside of
Palermo and we had a happy reunion with her sister, Eliana, who
returned from Australia to celebrate. </div>
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My
first swim in the sea (without my
wetsuit I mean) came on April 13th, after a saturday night out with Zoe
and her visiting British friends. We met at Mondello on sunday
morning with the sun shining and I had ridden my bike there so I dived
right in to cool off, and convinced her friend, Sam, to accompany me.
The others were too chicken. </div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
On Easter Sunday in April a group of our friends took a
little road trip to Gangi and Petralia in the
Madonie Mountains, a zone in Sicily that I hadn't visited before. We
had an amazing meal at an agriturismo (this is like a farm
house/ hotel, a very common holiday destination in Italy where people stay
in nature and eat food grown on the farm) outside of Gangi before
touring around the small town. </div>
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The beginning of May brought the
departure of another good friend. Zoe decided to move back to London
to be closer to her family and grow her career. We had a
goodbye dinner and a goodbye night out and it was a bit of deja-vous
as I accompanied her to the bus the following morning with her bags
as I'd done in September when she was intending to move back to London but
changed her mind and returned 2 weeks later. During this time we had
become best friends and I knew I was going to miss her, but I knew my time inPalermo was winding down too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklJ7VveB0YF__Tdh-_fNtNZNHsrsuZZY1mxk-eFLzcys_z7HutszHLvrb5OIm8q_FMZT0q4nHPROe8YtYT4Gaj1JUnB42mdc2Eo_LhMcntZb-Tg8diLXicJ9PaCcTUAXVOOLSPbxxp_hB/s1600/DSC01841.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklJ7VveB0YF__Tdh-_fNtNZNHsrsuZZY1mxk-eFLzcys_z7HutszHLvrb5OIm8q_FMZT0q4nHPROe8YtYT4Gaj1JUnB42mdc2Eo_LhMcntZb-Tg8diLXicJ9PaCcTUAXVOOLSPbxxp_hB/s1600/DSC01841.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7II0ak6AyP473Li6mxKCd3bXCDUNoZ2zN7hSILo6MDGtryodTFm9Hjyp0NGjuSgsOKwf4Co3YbOvEmraROSDJw7vAW9zJD7OQuYf__NdwYABwzT0aCNZ7MlfeKKfzCFXxLpy5SsyRJ8Mm/s1600/DSC01850.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7II0ak6AyP473Li6mxKCd3bXCDUNoZ2zN7hSILo6MDGtryodTFm9Hjyp0NGjuSgsOKwf4Co3YbOvEmraROSDJw7vAW9zJD7OQuYf__NdwYABwzT0aCNZ7MlfeKKfzCFXxLpy5SsyRJ8Mm/s1600/DSC01850.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">They day I gave my friends surfing lessons </span><br />
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The end of May brought me another
visitor, my Canadian friend, Hailey, who I had met in Florence. She
was going to Hamburg to house sit for the summer and decided an
italian stop was in order to see me. I was happy to have her and we
started things off immediately at, where else?, Mondello beach with some
friends who ended up taking us for dinner later that evening.
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We
decided to rent a car for a little
getaway to Castellammare, Scopello, The Zingaro Nature Reserve, and
San Vito Lo Capo. In the nature reserve we had to follow a path on foot
for 20 minutes to reach the beach but it was totally worth it.
Unfortunately due to a
sensitivity to cigarette smoke, and the difficulty to avoid it in
Italy, Hailey came down with bronchitis and my friend Claudia who was
interning at the hospital helped us to see a doctor and get a
perscription for antibiotics.
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It wasn't hard to say goodbye to
Hailey as I knew I'd be seeing her soon. She had helped me book a
little european tour at the end of July, which included Hamburg as a stop.
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Andrea and I waiting for waves</span></div>
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The rest of June was a bit chaotic as I
was scrambling to finish my paintings while simultaneously
trying to organize the exhibition. As it goes in Palermo, people
hesitate to give confirmation and change what they say from one
minute to the next, but I finally managed to secure a one night
outdoor showing for Friday, July 11<sup>th</sup> at Mida, a lounge
bar right on the beach in Mondello.
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An english student of mine, Simona,
helped me figure out how to hang the paintings and we did a trial
setup a few days before. By chance, a couple who were friends of the
manager came by for lunch and saw the two paintings that I had
brought for the hanging trial. The woman approached me to ask about
the price and after they left the manager negotiated with me a bit on
their behalf.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QWQw-jgZ62dpMeUfD1AcAJ_qzhml4sRdAvnjknlW9aRuTJz_zDTay0zbVjmQXG3Wdi6h-zEvetbqctuOLhCwLaOkVkFN2Zmd2X2HHcTMHvjTymlV-W77j2gJ2W-GBY6zF3cpQebGA1hX/s1600/100_1712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QWQw-jgZ62dpMeUfD1AcAJ_qzhml4sRdAvnjknlW9aRuTJz_zDTay0zbVjmQXG3Wdi6h-zEvetbqctuOLhCwLaOkVkFN2Zmd2X2HHcTMHvjTymlV-W77j2gJ2W-GBY6zF3cpQebGA1hX/s1600/100_1712.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As luck would have it, the waves were
on the way and the greenlight was on for a surf competition hosted in
Sicily. It ended up being an epic day. After a near sleepless night,
my friends helped me assemble the paintings before we headed to
Magaggiari Beach for the competition. The men were up first so we had
a free surf session and I kept my eye on the clock to see if I would
have time to participate in the women's competition and make it to
the exhibition.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEdhQmEKpH8MYdhJoUUpPXTRKbiI6ui10Fo3c2JeH6naCuxfV10UqR0DwE6CohZZI2HPRPp2HXVESpK5DdZYyHkiuI95OmTbMYtvpZajLHWAC2TTvcsXxouVRdk2mBXa8wHOACjzMHMPC/s1600/IMG-20140311-00369.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEdhQmEKpH8MYdhJoUUpPXTRKbiI6ui10Fo3c2JeH6naCuxfV10UqR0DwE6CohZZI2HPRPp2HXVESpK5DdZYyHkiuI95OmTbMYtvpZajLHWAC2TTvcsXxouVRdk2mBXa8wHOACjzMHMPC/s1600/IMG-20140311-00369.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqGgEijVDX_2IlSInNZcp8KVgi2I7xtIvzpCNOfOxEp0ie8iQYFoSEQ_eqZSYLKlkn_Csm00YBKLmx78qZuwzhA9yjj5M2fSMuqe3_7O-qp2-_cX2w7no0QiBkkrb2Lw7PEpQR2lE_5Sk/s1600/magaggiari+surf+open10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqGgEijVDX_2IlSInNZcp8KVgi2I7xtIvzpCNOfOxEp0ie8iQYFoSEQ_eqZSYLKlkn_Csm00YBKLmx78qZuwzhA9yjj5M2fSMuqe3_7O-qp2-_cX2w7no0QiBkkrb2Lw7PEpQR2lE_5Sk/s1600/magaggiari+surf+open10.jpg" height="320" width="318" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> The design for the Magaggiari Surf Open T-shirts that I did</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEdhQmEKpH8MYdhJoUUpPXTRKbiI6ui10Fo3c2JeH6naCuxfV10UqR0DwE6CohZZI2HPRPp2HXVESpK5DdZYyHkiuI95OmTbMYtvpZajLHWAC2TTvcsXxouVRdk2mBXa8wHOACjzMHMPC/s1600/IMG-20140311-00369.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The exhibition officially started at 7:30pm
and they ended up finishing up the mens around 6.30pm, so I decided to sign
myself up and got warmed up, knowing that it wasn't a big deal if I
showed up a bit late for the exhibition. With the heats only lasting 15 minutes I felt
really anxious to catch as many waves as I could. The waves
at Magaggiari primarily break left, but my best wave was the first one
I caught and I rode to the right. I caught a couple decent left ones
after that and was thrilled to get moved into round two.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2i9cIeWNByV6mhGaz3bZr8DNvgVGnNBwxbr2vpJBQ-TLqRnJ_nz_2FoCjIDGgv4Nr706rBfS6tlBjPlVmM6hSAA8Q-DaLqBMIqsrBhCKeoMkhP3kUFbO_0gFk9WVhvlOt5mIjXSsWs_-8/s1600/IMG_40951-640x331.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2i9cIeWNByV6mhGaz3bZr8DNvgVGnNBwxbr2vpJBQ-TLqRnJ_nz_2FoCjIDGgv4Nr706rBfS6tlBjPlVmM6hSAA8Q-DaLqBMIqsrBhCKeoMkhP3kUFbO_0gFk9WVhvlOt5mIjXSsWs_-8/s1600/IMG_40951-640x331.jpg" height="165" width="320" /> </a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJDBpHzCOA5h-rfA_VkGxpdmuPxZX6am9juk-t4q2pt0P_TNF4Xrdv4fDtT2euKKqE2q-3ns5k0-iQvMDEl0byo3hPD8HxiJOLvH6OpUVoMx1Oib2oD0wxayBu9R-Wo1Zab2FFdDKmFTA/s1600/10411745_10154459322460206_3545909995909773449_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJDBpHzCOA5h-rfA_VkGxpdmuPxZX6am9juk-t4q2pt0P_TNF4Xrdv4fDtT2euKKqE2q-3ns5k0-iQvMDEl0byo3hPD8HxiJOLvH6OpUVoMx1Oib2oD0wxayBu9R-Wo1Zab2FFdDKmFTA/s1600/10411745_10154459322460206_3545909995909773449_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintLz5tLM-TUkVSF_o3Nl-5VAZ1D-Hopn4wPtS02SGb4XWXJ7WdDQW0GBCahdqJA4ULslvqu68aMy0MJTsQ2H93uE46oH0rk4KawN_LW3sgvysHBXrDMWMrcl6R_MNKWD83wV5fbMd_F9Q/s1600/IMG_4598-640x395.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintLz5tLM-TUkVSF_o3Nl-5VAZ1D-Hopn4wPtS02SGb4XWXJ7WdDQW0GBCahdqJA4ULslvqu68aMy0MJTsQ2H93uE46oH0rk4KawN_LW3sgvysHBXrDMWMrcl6R_MNKWD83wV5fbMd_F9Q/s1600/IMG_4598-640x395.jpg" height="197" width="320" /></a> </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The waves had changed a bit by the time
I was back in the water for round 2 and despite paddling as hard as I
could I missed a few big ones. It wouldn't have mattered much as I
was against the italian female champion, Valentina Vitale, and another really good
surfer who had been living in Mexico, and besides I needed to get to my
exhibition!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I got changed and did my makeup in the
back of Andrea's car on the drive over to Mondello. Arriving with my
hair still wet, the manager immediately handed me a check from his
friends for the paintings. That evening I confirmed 2 other sales to
friends.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There were 5 pairs of paintings, 10 in
total as I had planned and I was very pleased with how it all came
together. I was exhausted of course but stuck it out until the end
of the night. My friends helped me dismantle everything and I carted the
paintings home.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As the venue was outdoor it wasn't the
right place for an extended exhibition. There wasn't even storage
space available. So I set my sights on the place where I had
initially imagined the paintings on display. The face of Mondello's shoreline,
and the building which makes an appearance in many of the paintings, The Charleston, or Le Terrazze as it had been renamed. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had been there numerous times already
to speak with the manager, but for one reason or another he remained
wishy washy. I was desperately looking for back up venues but nothing
else was quite coming through or making cut. I knew what I needed to
do.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One evening I passed by The Charleston
to speak with the manager in the company of my vivacious Sicilian
friend and new graduate from law school, Silvia. After an hour or so,
all the plans were cemented as the manager was taken with her and she
had him convinced.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This man continued to be a bit high
maintenance as on the day of the opening he had instructed his staff not to let
me start assembling the paintings until he arrived. He didn't arrive
until 6:30 pm and they opened for dinner at 8pm so I was under
a bit of pressure getting everything up and to his liking. I finally finished
around 8:30 pm and was so happy to see the paintings there as I had
imagined, even before I had even started actually painting the paintings I had imagined them there.
Despite being super late, I went for a celebratory swim to soak in
the moment of seeing my dreams come true.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintwDsh7o5q4y3GRwtPtmTNCPGvNLSlnoS9Qtjdob-H4N1b3F2Eq8vwy_co0o-pLnGJzAq8PGcnyB6RaPxICJNLYTYmurHDj9JLxAMSKclUDrWeXb3n_hB3sH8BHb9lup-le8UcYX5M7L6/s1600/DSC02073.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintwDsh7o5q4y3GRwtPtmTNCPGvNLSlnoS9Qtjdob-H4N1b3F2Eq8vwy_co0o-pLnGJzAq8PGcnyB6RaPxICJNLYTYmurHDj9JLxAMSKclUDrWeXb3n_hB3sH8BHb9lup-le8UcYX5M7L6/s1600/DSC02073.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">So happy and tired!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeBo69H9avqBJdH-mdw44ioU5y-CRvkq0iULsNqGG1BZnBwTcelRdaS-XbLV-dueBDFncNne0YvlntooSO2Jc02PyiD3XJWAYMP5wClaDlH4ksRto7Zl_Kc-DyEqx15blxoiXWzwHwCqD/s1600/DSC02051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKeBo69H9avqBJdH-mdw44ioU5y-CRvkq0iULsNqGG1BZnBwTcelRdaS-XbLV-dueBDFncNne0YvlntooSO2Jc02PyiD3XJWAYMP5wClaDlH4ksRto7Zl_Kc-DyEqx15blxoiXWzwHwCqD/s1600/DSC02051.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.jennierutz.com/ithappenedinmondello/">Images of the paintings can be seen on my site </a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
On my way to the bus I stopped at the
gelateria for 'dinner' and politely sabatoged an old lady's attempt
to bud in front of me in line. I made it back home and got ready in
lightening speed before Andrea and Claudia passed by to pick me up
and take me back to the Charleston where other friends had already
arrived and were waiting. It was another lovely night and I stuck it
out as long as I could before storing the paintings in the office and crashing.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The next night I left on my mini euro
trip, but first I needed to return to the Charleston to give assembly
instructions as they would be responsible for hanging the paintings
in the terrace every day and storing them in the office every night
while I was gone. That went smoothly and I felt that they were in
safe hands as I went back home to pack my bag and get to the airport
on time.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I had decided to spend the night at a
hostel in Pisa so I could do a round of dropping off postcard samples
at souvenir shops at the popular tourist town. As it had been
such a busy time I hadn't spent much time choosing a hostel, I just picked
a cheap one with decent reviews and left it at that.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It wasn't until I arrived at the
address around 11 at night and didn't find the hostel that I started
having doubts, but I was accustomed to Italy afterall so I can't say
I was that surprised. I called the number and a guy answered asking
where I was. I told him and he told me he'd be right there. A greasy
ponytailed italian pulled up in a car and told me to get in,
explaining that my room was in another building on the other side of
the station. Suspecting what sort of hostel this was, I asked if they
took credit card and he said no so I asked him to make a stop at the
bank (ie. one that doesn't pay taxes).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We
made it to the other building and I stifled his verbal advances while
we climbed the stairs into a dim
corridor. Still seeing no signs that we were in a hostel, he wrote up
my receipt and then showed me my room. I was happy to see 3 cute German
girls who I'd be sharing with. The room was super hot and
stuffy and they recounted their experiences to me from the night
before which nearly involved one of them without a bed to sleep in.
They told me that it appeared to be a room in a house of an old man,
who they periodically saw on his way to the bathroom.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I managed to get some sleep and hit the
ground in the morning for a quick round of the city before I got on
the train to Florence and called my friend, Sally, to tell her I was
on my way. I dropped lots of postcards on the way to her apartment
near Santo Spirito and, as in Pisa, was quite pleased with people's
reactions. In Palermo people were quick to reject me and say they
weren't interested, often not even accepting the samples, but here
the vendors were very positive and cheerful.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sally and I had a good catch up and a
nice dinner before heading out for our evening plans. A Hawaiian
themed party with Giuseppe, my ex-boyfriend, and his friends. We met in Santo Spirito
and drove outside of the city for the party which proved to be good fun.
</div>
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<br />
The next day I finished my postcard run
and met Giuseppe for a gelato before heading to an aperitivo to catch
up with some other friends.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the morning I was back to the Pisa
airport to catch my flight to Hamburg. It was my first time in
Germany and I managed to catch the bus and make it to Hailey's place. The
following day I rented a bike and we went for a nice bike ride around
the lake and then for dinner on a lively street. It was a Tuesday
so but we managed to have a good time, staying out late after running into a few people that
she knew.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivkcIxgGYwSUKU27YzRFDrYMJTkkPCOwbPZivRedg-BVoSfbnpy4X2PYVxmoxs7UihPOZbN6JnvlPphy9aaB0Gq3RKs2VJrJNPrKOHgL6Tgj49OUwKWmvcEqYMA1j7a1GJhzIsSi_UxSge/s1600/DSC02075.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivkcIxgGYwSUKU27YzRFDrYMJTkkPCOwbPZivRedg-BVoSfbnpy4X2PYVxmoxs7UihPOZbN6JnvlPphy9aaB0Gq3RKs2VJrJNPrKOHgL6Tgj49OUwKWmvcEqYMA1j7a1GJhzIsSi_UxSge/s1600/DSC02075.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bY8FIEtT1lUPvrBIq5uuSTkabrUgRY_pKQDKf8SGIFjfCQUkw_iJQNlhkSAEJWv9aKDKOWgTKND2wk74uB3jx6-yGgZyIouKKDNYNHyrgvz942JmZhzRwbf3Lvwu4nP1oExzscrpgjQU/s1600/DSC02079.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bY8FIEtT1lUPvrBIq5uuSTkabrUgRY_pKQDKf8SGIFjfCQUkw_iJQNlhkSAEJWv9aKDKOWgTKND2wk74uB3jx6-yGgZyIouKKDNYNHyrgvz942JmZhzRwbf3Lvwu4nP1oExzscrpgjQU/s1600/DSC02079.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
next day we were on a bus to
Amsterdam where we met Zoe and another friend of Hailey's and
mine from our time in Florence, a polish girl named Kamila. We had
rented an apartment in a great area and we were excited to start
scoping out the beautiful city. We all loved it as it was full of
fashion and art and canals and beautiful tall people on bikes. The
nightlife in the tourist places was a bit of a disappointment as we
found it quite seedy but as it was a weekday and the local places closed
early.
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
On our last night our group split up
and I convinced Zoe to pass through the red-light district with me
before we headed to our local destination for the evening, a bar at a
hotel outside of the tourist district. She almost got beaten up by a
hooker as we weren't aware that taking pictures is forbidden and the women spotted Zoe with her phone out.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After our time in Italy, we were
surprised by the friendliness of the Dutch girls. We made some
friends easily in the bar who were offering to buy us drinks and
complimenting our fashion. Many of the guys however seemed quite out of it and we
concluded they were on drugs, including a guy we met on our way home
who was skipping down the street high as a kite on ecstasy. We made
it home super late to find Hailey waiting for us in the stairwell as
Kamila had gone to bed early to catch and early flight and she had been locked out!
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The morning came early for us too as
Zoe and I had a bus to catch to Brussels to visit our friend,
Gabriele. He met us at the metro station and being the great italian host he is,
had a pasta lunch ready for us. After a nap we toured around the city and ate
dinner in a more historic neighborhood before we got ready for the
goodbye party for him and the interns at the European Commission. The
party was in a basement of a bar and was stifling hot so we ended up
mostly hanging out on the street for the evening. There we met a british bachelor
party who were on a type of treasure hunt. I was happy to help out
when they asked me if the groom-to-be could lick my armpit, one of the tasks on the list. Zoe had to write something on his
back. She chose a bad word.
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintwDsh7o5q4y3GRwtPtmTNCPGvNLSlnoS9Qtjdob-H4N1b3F2Eq8vwy_co0o-pLnGJzAq8PGcnyB6RaPxICJNLYTYmurHDj9JLxAMSKclUDrWeXb3n_hB3sH8BHb9lup-le8UcYX5M7L6/s1600/DSC02073.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
On our last night our group split up
and I convinced Zoe to pass through the red-light district with me
before we headed to our local destination for the evening, a bar at a
hotel outside of the tourist district. She almost got beaten up by a
hooker as we weren't aware that taking pictures is forbidden and the women spotted Zoe with her phone out.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After our time in Italy, we were
surprised by the friendliness of the Dutch girls. We made some
friends easily in the bar who were offering to buy us drinks and
complimenting our fashion. Many of the guys however seemed quite out of it and we
concluded they were on drugs, including a guy we met on our way home
who was skipping down the street high as a kite on ecstasy. We made
it home super late to find Hailey waiting for us in the stairwell as
Kamila had gone to bed early to catch and early flight and she had been locked out!
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The morning came early for us too as
Zoe and I had a bus to catch to Brussels to visit our friend,
Gabriele. He met us at the metro station and being the great italian host he is,
had a pasta lunch ready for us. After a nap we toured around the city and ate
dinner in a more historic neighborhood before we got ready for the
goodbye party for him and the interns at the European Commission. The
party was in a basement of a bar and was stifling hot so we ended up
mostly hanging out on the street for the evening. There we met a british bachelor
party who were on a type of treasure hunt. I was happy to help out
when they asked me if the groom-to-be could lick my armpit, one of the tasks on the list. Zoe had to write something on his
back. She chose a bad word.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The next day came fast and after
another pasta lunch I had to hit the road and say goodbye. As I was
leaving Italy within a few days, I let some tears roll, thankful for
having met these great friends and sharing my experience in Palermo
with them. My flight was to Trapani, a city on the west side of
Sicily, an hour and a half from Palermo. I knew the bus schedule and
hustled to the desk to buy a ticket but they told me there were no
seats left.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Other
people were arriving at the desk
and were in the same situation but being Sicily, a solution was
difficult to find.
The next bus wasn't for 4 more hours! As it was Sunday the last train
from the center of Trapani was also early and some people were
scrambling to get there in time. I tried to arrange with a group to
share a taxi
to Palermo but it was super expensive. At a certain point I realized I
actually had an
advantage that I was just one person and lined up at the bus that was
apparently full. Once everyone was on I asked the bus driver if there
was an empty seat, and he let me on. Thank GOD.
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsYNYR6rdpWqfBBDp4XNeFziraYg-qbGhTk1kJoNzlwTUyGN3uH-W26FQgo-kJNlg1XWf6v6wA_yVVwdr7z8KRqQofhIQxEHLLfyDwn5TbEu11NP20PFsNSpKusidaq2gUcQhJ1In9Hveg/s1600/10489170_10152282780153191_1856764151_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsYNYR6rdpWqfBBDp4XNeFziraYg-qbGhTk1kJoNzlwTUyGN3uH-W26FQgo-kJNlg1XWf6v6wA_yVVwdr7z8KRqQofhIQxEHLLfyDwn5TbEu11NP20PFsNSpKusidaq2gUcQhJ1In9Hveg/s1600/10489170_10152282780153191_1856764151_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Back
in Palermo I had 4 days to finish
packing and dealing with my stuff, get my paintings to their owners
and figure out what to do with the remaining ones (they are currently in
the window of my friend's clothing store, LAROS, on Via Liberta`), and
say my
goodbyes. It was a whirlwind but I managed to deal with it and as
luck would have it, some waves rolled in and the afternoon before my
departure, my old friend Salvo picked me up in his awesome volkswagon
van and we hit the water. The beach restaurant in Isola Delle Femmine
where the surf school is located and where I spent a lot of time over
the past 2 and a half years was the perfect location for dinner with my
good italian friends and Danilo, the surf coach. I had my tearful
goodbyes and was up late whittling down the weight of my luggage. Marco,
my faithful roomie, was kind to take me to the
airport at 6am and I shed some more tears as we said goodbye at the
check-in.
</div>
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<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My friend, Silvia (the girl who
convinced the manager at the Charleston to host the exhibition, as
well as one of the friends who bought a set of my paintings, as well
as one of my english students) was on the same flight from Palermo to
New York with me and although we weren't sitting together on the plane it
was nice to have her and her friend's company at the gate as well as
in us customs once we landed. She was spending 6 weeks in New York
taking a business english class (as well as dance classes, she's very
well balanced). Due to pushy airport staff we had a quick goodbye at
the connections desk and I continued my journey to Calgary which my 4
suitcases 5 hours later.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzkh0M8m2JZYAjYwPP_LAJYMZ165pLy2kQX8G6_HIiuxgd0YQ1jtldp05Ep7cwIUmDhtc9EYy6yQ4Mg-m_KW5fw5PMIdJN1RKgw9dhN2g1f2pCQ_ofwhGwvUZ0w5QFSXVCnVSgWAc3nua/s1600/DSC02148.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzkh0M8m2JZYAjYwPP_LAJYMZ165pLy2kQX8G6_HIiuxgd0YQ1jtldp05Ep7cwIUmDhtc9EYy6yQ4Mg-m_KW5fw5PMIdJN1RKgw9dhN2g1f2pCQ_ofwhGwvUZ0w5QFSXVCnVSgWAc3nua/s1600/DSC02148.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Home sweet home, it was the perfect
place for downtime to recover from my whirlwind. I had lots of family
time and nature time before I plunged into preparations for my next
whirlwind. After a family trip to vegas the weather has turned and I
can't believe it was snowing the other day!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> My prize from gambling</span></div>
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In
a few days I'll be heading across
the other ocean to Australia where I'll spend the next year. My time
in Italy has come to an end for now and the next chapter of my life
is leading me to Oz. Due to the age restriction on the working
holiday visa, the time is now! I'm nervous and excited and just have
to remind myself that that's basically the same thing:) Setting up in
an english speaking country should be much easier than when I
arrived in Florence in 2010 with only the most basic italian words in
my vocabulary. I'll be staying initially with Eliana, Claudia's sister,
in Bondi Beach. I feel so lucky for all the opportunities in my life,
it's like I get to live many lives in one. Italy will always have a
piece of my heart and I don't know where the future will take me, but
for now I'm ready for this next adventure!<br />
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jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-79959638899998934462014-01-02T10:25:00.001-08:002014-01-02T12:09:13.121-08:00Anno delle Meduse- Year of the Jellyfish<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I started writing this post over 6
months ago, but never finished. Now I have completed the daunting
task of bringing my stories up to date since my last post over a
year ago! I guess it's been a busy year. Sorry if this gigantic post
is intimidating....it's funny how much I remember while writing!</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Me and my sicilian roomies</span>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>
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Upon my re-arrival in Palermo in
October 2012, things were feeling a little different. Like vacation
was over, and it was real life now. After finishing the storyboarding
contract in August and spending September in Canada, I was
encountering some questions of what's next? And I decided to invest
the money I'd earned suffering it out storyboarding, into giving
myself time to paint with the intention of organizing a gallery show
in the new year. Thanks to jet lag, I got a head start, painting a
set of canvases into the early hours of the night.
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Playing with Paolo's kids</span></div>
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Within a few days of my arrival, what
luck! There were waves and Marco and I set out for Isola Delle
Femmine, the surfing beach. It was a beautiful day and still hot like
the summer; a wetsuit wasn't even necessary. That was the way to get
reacquainted with my life in Palermo. A few days later, I reunited
with some friends at skateboarding night, and handed out stickers
from 'The Source', the skateboarding store in calgary and chocolate
loonies.
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As winter is the season with the most
waves in Sicily, the opportunity to surf became more and more
available. I decided to sign up for a month of surf camp in December,
seeing as I wasn't dancing anymore, and sometimes I was able to go
3-4 times a week, even in the rain, wind, crazy waves, everything, I
was there. My progress started to show as I was catching more waves
and getting faster popping up. Once, when I came in from a surf
session (which often lasted many hours, involved many wipe-outs, and
only a few successful waves), Danilo, the surf coach was super pumped
and told me that he saw me surfing the face of the wave (when you get
the side of the board totally making contact with the steep part of
the wave) . I actually didn't realize it at the time but I knew
something felt good haha.
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In this season there were days when the
sea was full of jellyfish. They are beautiful to look at but nasty if
you touch them. I was full of jellyfish stings on my hands and feet,
which had me waking up in the night itching. I even got swatted with
a tentacle on my face once. I have scars on my feet that I don't
think will ever totally heal. My battle scars. Some days all the
jellyfish get washed onto shore, and the beach is totally covered in
gushy jelly. Then they get shriveled up with the sun. There was one
day without any waves that I went out on the sea with the SUP board
(stand up paddling) board for the first time. Looking into the water,
there were swarms of jellyfish and I marveled while watching them
through the super clear water and trying so hard to keep my balance
so I wouldn't fall in and get stung. But your first time out, a few
falls are inevitable. Despite my shrieks and the anticipation of a
sting, the blow of the fall actually made the jellyfish scatter, so
that day I remained sting free.
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Due to my limited budget, I was only
intending to do surf camp for a month, but one day Danilo proposed me
a deal to trade him english lessons in exchange for surfing. That was
probably the best proposition anyone has ever made me, ever. So from
January on, I started giving him lessons about once a week, sometimes
during the car ride back to Palermo while he was driving. And texting
his friends on his iphone. Yes Italians are super multitaskers, as
seen in my illustrations: Things Italians Do. Although he was a bit
shy in the beginning and sometimes he got bored with the exercises I
gave him, he made considerable improvement and is now quite
comfortable having conversations with me in English. I've been
teaching him lots of slang and surf lingo, but sometimes I'm caught
off-guard when he responds back to me 'gimme a break' or the day I
taught him 'I ate shitloads of pasta' hahaha. </div>
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</div>
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In the beginning of November I had a
visitor, Rosie, my old roomate from Florence, who had since returned
to live in England as she'd finished her studies at the portrait
school in Florence. We first celebrated the first of november with friends of Marco at a house in the country and then, with her ability to drive a stick, we decided to
rent a car and tour around a bit on the west side of Sicily. Day 1 we
started off to Agrigento and visted the amazing Scale dei Turchi at
sunset which was already the highlight of the trip for me.
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Le scale dei Turchi </div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The next day we visited an
archeological site of greek temples before passing through Sciacca
and Mazara del Vallo and finding our hotel in Marsala. As it was off
season we were able to stay in nice accomodations for a fraction of
the regular price. The next morning upon waking up however, we had a
little surprise. Rosie opened our balcony doors and gasped. Somebody
hit the car!</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> The view from our balcony in Marsala</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
This resulted in delaying our plans for
the day to go to the police station and file a report. We were a bit
nervous as although we had insurance on the rental car, we'd bought
it online from a 3<sup>rd</sup> party, so for sure it'd end up being
a little complicated. We went to the police station immediately but
they told us we could only file a report after 2pm, so we killed some
time in the quiet center of Marsala before coming back promptly at 2.
We waited over an hour before finally being called in.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The police officers were friendly and
even a little flirty as probably two foreign girls coming into their
office was the highlight of the day. They gave us some
recommendations of places to eat on our next destination, Trapani. We
had to nix our plans to visit the island of Mozia as there wasn't
enough time but we stopped along the road for a few photo ops. We got
settled in our B&B and got dressed up to hit the town, but
unfortunately it was a monday night and we were the only ones out. We
had a nice dinner in a vacant restaurant, and I ate a sicilian
speciality for the first time, pasta with ricci (sea-urchins), as the
restaurant offered gluten free pasta. I can't say I was crazy about
it but maybe it merits another try one day.</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Erice </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Day 4 we were off to Erice, a medieval
town on the top of a mountain. It takes a good half hour up winding
roads to arrive, but the view is amazing the whole way. We wandered
around and took in a bit of sunshine before heading back down the
mountain for our next destination, some other greek ruins in Segesta
(Rosie's request), followed by a hunt for the natural hot springs in
the area (my request). The marking on the map was a bit confusing and
the signs on the roads were too. We stopped at a few places that had
constructed spas out of the springs, but what I really wanted was the
all natural outdoor hotsprings which I had read about, which we
finally found after getting directions.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We followed a bumpy road in the middle
of nowhere, parked the car, and walked down a path including rocks
to hop across a river. It was so beautiful and magical, the water was
super clear and warm. If there hadn't been 3 slightly grizzly
middle-aged men there, I definitely would've gone in, but as it was
nearing sunset, it didn't seem like a good idea. We stayed a few
minutes and chatted with the least grizzly of the men before making
our way back to the car and completing the loop back to Palermo.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We pulled up at Hertz, the car rental
place, with the police report in hand, ready to deal with whatever
had to be done. The man looked at the police report, looked at the
car, looked at us and said, don't worry, don't tell anyone, just make
sure you take the insurance through us next time. I was like
really????! and we thanked him profusely. We were so relieved as we
walked back to my place. I'm not sure but probably it was another
case in which being foreign and female helped.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Upon Rosie's departure, I was back to
my routine of surfing and painting. My computer was broken,
skateboarding night was suspended, and life was feeling pretty quiet
some days as I was in my room alone for hours on end, hunched over
with a paint brush in my pajamas. But it was so satisfying to have
the images in my head finally taking shape for real. I was really
enjoying the whole process, without being overly focused on the end
result while working. It really takes the anguish out of it, working
in this way, feeling present the whole time, without rushing or
forcing anything, just planning the image out and then following the
steps to take it to completion, of course with unexpected issues
along the way, but keeping it on track.
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I think the biggest difference which
has allowed me to work in this way is the subject matter, painting
things to tell stories and feelings, with the aesthetic and the
technique take a back seat, and are allowed to be just the tool for
communication of the idea instead of the purpose itself. So thinking
in this way really helps me to take the pressure off, and resulted in
finishing paintings that I was really satisfied with. In the past
I've had the tendency to suffer from perfectionism which can be super
stifling and lead to lots of unfinished work and low self esteem. Now
that I'm aware of this hopefully there won't be any relapses.
</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
With December came Christmas, and the
weekend prior I decided to have a little getaway to Napoli (Naples).
A cheap ticket on a brutal 10 hour ferry ride was all it took! I'd
only passed through there once before, on a bus ride returning from
Pompeii when I was 17 with my high school trip. They wouldn't let us
off the bus because they said it as too dangerous! The city was
breathtaking however, with the historic center on the coast, some
islands in view, and Mount Vesuvius, the volcano, hovering on the
side. Amazing.
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A Napolitano friend I'd met in Palermo
while he was on a business trip picked me up one afternoon and showed
me around his suburb, which was simultaneously entertaining and
frustrating. His two cell phones were ringing non-stop and we were
waiting long periods at random places for people for reasons I didn't
understand. And often they didn't show up. However driving around
with him I was able to decode italian communication via horn honking.
One short honk = watch out! Two short honks= Hello friend! One long
honk= What the hell are you doing??!!! Finally he finished 'working'
as he called it (it was since suggested by italian friends upon
recounting this experience that this guy may have been doing some
shady business...) and he took me to eat were I got to taste some
napolitano specialties. Most famously pizza, fresh buffalo
mozzarella, babba`(an alcoholic dessert), and sfogliatelle (a pastry
with sweet ricotta inside).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'd decided before leaving on the trip
to experience the Christmas season like a normal person, that is
eating things with gluten, which definitely made traveling a lot
easier (and delicious). The rest of my time in Napoli involved a ton
of walking to see all the different neighborhoods and some monuments
scattered throughout. There were lots of people out and about doing
christmas shopping and socializing. I hung out for a few hours in
Piazza San Domenico the following afternoon, watching an amazing band
play.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I arrived back in Palermo, super bagged
at 6am on Christmas eve day. After crashing for a few hours I headed
over to Marco's parent's apartment building with the intention to
take place in the Lio Cup, an annual soccer game, involving wine on
the sidelines, with Marco's childhood friends who grew up in the same
building. Marco had described it to me as very casual and that even
girls play, but instead, I showed up late and was still the only girl
on site. The guys were all decked out in their soccer gear and
passionately arguing in good italian style. Yeah, I should've know
that the italian guys can't take soccer lightly, especially with wine
in their systems. So I refused the invitation to participate and
witnessed the fun from the sidelines. It was good that I did because
then I received an important call. My niece was born!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Marco's family was very kind to invite
me to both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners. If there was ever
an occasion to eat normally this was it, with amazing lasagnas,
ravioli, desserts, and cheeses available. I survived the festivities
without too much digestive discomfort. Festivities continued for New
Years at our friend, Giulia's house where there was more amazing food
and I got to eat for the first time another sicilian specialty of
Pasta al Forno (Baked Pasta). It wasn't long after all these feasts
that I wasn't feeling weel and needed to return to my gluten free
ways, but I was glad that I got to enjoy food, restriction free, over
the holidays.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I continued painting and surfing
throughout January 2013 but was feeling an itch for another of my
favorite activities and ended up signing up for a month of salsa,
this time cuban, with a new instructor who insisted that I come to
the choreography class despite my request to be in the normal class.
He was african from the island Cape verde and was pretty
entertaining. Despite obviously being a great dancer, he would
occasionally have a temper tantrum on one of the students or make
them do a step a thousand times over, each time yelling out the
details that they hadn't perfected. Eg. Arm! Arm! Arm! I was his
victim a few times and it just made me laugh because he was so vague
and I usually didn't understand what he wanted. Anyway, I would've
liked to continue the class as I was learning some advanced
combinations but entering February I was surprised to be getting zero
responses to my teaching english ads, and was starting to get a
little nervous about money.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Luckily my trips to the surfing beach
started to include a bit of earning, as the owners of the
bar/restaurant where the surf school is had asked me to tutor their
teenage son, Tonino (little Tony), as he was flunking his english
course. I knew Tonino already as he was a surfer, although not the
conventional type. It was a bit ironic that his name is little Tony
as he is anything but. Some of his friends call him the big kahuna
which is more fitting. My first conversation with Tonino went like
this, months before we started lessons, when I recognized him on the
train one day:
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Me: “Are you going surfing today?”
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tonino (without making eye contact): “
Boh” (a sound italians make which means I don't know)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The End.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Haha. Well as our lessons went on, he
started to open up, and I found out about his love for english music.
Every so often upon studying his textbook he'd burst into song when
he recognized a word or phrase from one of his favorite pop songs.
Eg. Studying the present perfect sparked Rihanna, 'Where have you
been all my liiiii iiii iiii iiife?'</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Plans for my first ever solo exhibition
lined up perfectly as the place I had my eye on accepted my request
to host it. I had met the event organizer of the
bar/restaurant/concert venue the first time I had been in the spring.
The friend's sister worked there, and I had mentioned to my friend
upon walking in that I liked the place and would like to do an
exhibition there one day. The organizer happened to be walking by in
that moment so she made the introduction immediately. When I returned
nearly 9 months later he said he didn't remember me but it didn't
matter as he liked the painting I'd brought and he showed me the
space and we discussed my intentions to open on March 1. He told me
to call 2 weeks before and he would confirm.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Knowing that things in Sicily don't
always tend to go to plan, I continued to work on my paintings while
keeping in mind that it wouldn't be 100 percent until I was actually
hanging the paintings on the walls, but I felt a lot more confident
when I made the scheduled phone call two weeks before and he told me
to design an ad which he put up on their website. So I continued with
preparations and figured things out as I went along, getting giant
sheets of plastic printed with my designs for the lightboxes above
of the bar, figuring out how to hang the paintings, and cutting out
tons of paper dolls for the installation. When the day came I was
super exhausted but super happy, as it felt like a huge personal
accomplishment for me and I shared it with many people who came to
support me. Two reviews were written for online sites and I felt very
satisfied.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Shortly after the opening I started to
panic a little as I realized I didn't have much planned in my life
after that important date, creative or otherwise. So I plunged into
an idea that I had for a super short animated film about surfing, as
well as going forward with a collaboration at a bar/hangout to offer
super affordable group english classes aimed at young people, using
music and film as learning materials. It seemed like a great idea and
so many people expressed their interest, however the maximum number
of students that actually ever showed up was 4, the usual amount
being 0, and after sticking it out for a good six weeks, I had to
give up.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One day I decided to hang out in front
of the cathedral where the tourists gathered and offer caricatures. I
drew an example in my sketchbook and held it out as people walked by,
asking 'Do you want a caricature?' in clear English. But I think the
majority of the tourists that day were non english speaking eastern
europeans as many didn't even acknowledge me. A few italian guys were
flirting a bit and asked me how much, but when I told them I
understood they weren't interested in paying so I asked if they'd let
me draw them to use as an example. They agreed but it was funny how
they went from confident to self-conscious as they had to stand still
for me to inspect them and draw.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then a group of enthusiastic italian
school kids came by and asked me how much. They said they didn't have
money and I said that I'd do one for them anyway. So it went from a
group of about 4 kids to the whole class (about 20) as they all
jumped in, including the teacher. So my pencil fired across the page
and the kids who I finished crowded behind and marveled and yelled at
each kid when I had finished their part so they could leave their
position. At the end the teacher was insisting that they had to go so
I blasted through the last couple of kids and handed them the drawing
before she whisked them away. They were very complimentary and
appreciative and despite not making any money that day as was my
intention, I felt really happy.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Another of my great ideas for income
was to convert my 'Things Italians Do' illustrations into postcards,
with the intention of selling them in the souvenir stores in Palermo
and other cities in Italy. As I tend to be overly positive, I jumped
the gun a bit and printed 1000 due to bulk printing deals.....and
then started making the rounds in the tourist district, only to hear
the same thing over and over.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They weren't interested, tourists only
buy postcards of monuments and things particular to Palermo, ect.
and I was a first hand observer of the closed minded Sicilian
mentality, but tried to stay positive and perfect my sales pitch,
telling an anecdote of how, when I traveled through italy previously
as a tourist, was always searching for an amusing postcard to send to
my friends back home. Well that didn't really help. I went to around
20 shops hearing no after no, until one place, agreed to take 5 of
each. Not a total bust at least, but without much promise, after that
I changed my focus to other things.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Danilo had suggested that I could
custom paint surfboards and it had the potential to go over well.
Overly optimistic once again I ordered a bunch of special markers on
ebay (well I wanted all the colors!) and did research on the process.
My first design was for a fellow surf student who had come to my
exhibition and had full faith in me to work on his brand new board. I
really enjoyed it and charged him a modest rate for being my first
customer. Since then I painted a board for Danilo, myself, and a
couple others friend for free, and just recently had my second paying
customer. </div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Gianluca and the first board I painted</div>
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Danilo and his balinese board<br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As I wasn't continuing with any dance
lessons during that time due to tight finances, I decided to invest
in my friend's second hand skateboard, that way whenever I wanted to
get some exercise, it was at my disposal. Plus it would help with my
surfing. So from then on I spent many evenings alone behind the
tribunale (courthouse), listening to music and practicing my moves.
It's like a new form of dancing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My finances were helped that I got a
few months break in paying rent, as Marco needed some graphic work
for the tour he was setting up, the now famous 'STEAT Palermo Tour'.
A tour which started as him showing friends around the city to taste
the sicilian food in the markets has now evolved into his full time
job and is generating a lot of publicity between TV, magazines,
radio, and the internet. This spring he should be in full swing!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
On Easter weekend I was invited to San
Vito Lo Capo, a place I'd heard about many times but had never been
to, with my friends Andrea, Claudia, and Eliana who were celebrating
Pasquetta (Easter Monday) with Andrea's relatives in the typical
sicialian way, that is barbequing tons and tons of food, mostly meat,
in a house in the countryside. We took an intermission to see the
town on the sea and go for a little skateboarding before returning
for dessert. </div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
At the end of April my first family
visitors in Sicily arrived, Uncle Barry and Auntie Pam, who had
booked a beautiful apartment across from the port. They were excited
to be guinea pigs on Marco's Street Food Tour, and we took them
through the markets and had them taste all the foods on the eating
passport (which I designed) to earn their stamps.
</div>
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Another day I brought them with me to
the surfing beach outside Palermo, and they had a nice lunch while I
hit some waves. Another evening I took them to my exhibition and they
were very generous to become my best clients. As they were wishing to
visit my great-granparents town in Calabria, we put together a little
toad trip tour through Sicily and Calabria, which would make the most
of the 3 day car rental.
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">on the ferry </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEillbbbCjzcCZVSm16NBLjdLK4DxRaY3JV7hKHS4jMY7zY5WQy1puSlzi1ndk-Wn3tkva3362G4G2DvhYLm4caTbJirTyQ5FIsGZakLWmGycawMcq2ci17CWETCBkfxanWRI6vZZ3htsvdM/s1600/DSC00046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>With Uncle Barry confident and calm
behind the wheel (despite the crazy drivers on every side of him) we
set out for Tropea, a very charming town on the west coast of
Calabria. This meant taking the ferry across the sea to Calabria from
Messina on the eastern tip of Sicily. Spring was in the air and it
was a nice day to stand on the deck and take in the views as we
sailed to the italian mainland. Our GPS was a bit confused in taking
us to the hotel we'd booked in Tropea, but once we found it and
enjoyed the complimentary desserts they brought us, we set out for
the beach. I soaked in some sun and even went for a dip, not bad for
the end of April! Later in the evening we went for a nice dinner at a
restaurant recommended by the hotel, which happened to be the same
restaurant I had eaten at before with Giuseppe and his cousins when I
had been there 2 years prior. Before going to bed we watched the
glowing lava in the distance, coming from one of the volcanoes on the
aeolian islands.
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The next day we were off to Amato, the
mountain top village where my great-grandparents grew up and got
married before deciding to immigrate to Canada. Our GPS brought us up
the back way, a bit-treacherous and time consuming, but breathtaking
amidst the olive trees and valleys and little farm houses. We stopped
periodically for pictures and upon crossing paths with a local, we
knew they must have been wondering who we were and what the heck we
were doing. We finally made it to the top and we found the road that
was listed on great-grandma's identity card before making a little
loop and finding our way into the main piazza.
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View in Tropea <br />
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The back roads to Amato<br />
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The empty streets in Amato<br />
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We entered the only bar in town to use
the bathroom but as it was sunday afternoon, the place was deserted
as were all the streets. I chatted with the men working for a few
minutes as they asked what we were doing there (it's generally not a
town where tourists drop by) and I told them our story. They informed
me, as I had found out last time, that the last Cardamone in the town
had passed a way many years ago, and only the widow was left (I had
knocked on her door last time). He sent there were many people with
the last name of Masi (my great-grandma's maiden name) but there were
actually so many of them and they weren't all related. They were
shutting down the bar for lunch time but they said if we hung around
until late afternoon there would likely be some men in the bar later
that could give us more information. We decided not to wait around as
there was no guarantee and we wanted to carry on to our next
destination. We hung out in the main piazza a little longer and I
climbed a tree before we hit the road, this time taking the main road
back down the mountain which took a tiny fraction of the time.
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Our next stop was Catanzaro Lido, on
the east coast, where we had something to eat and then I had a little
relax time on the stoney beach while Uncle Barry and Auntie Pam went
for a walk. Then we were back on the road, all the way down the east
coast of Calabria on a slower highway often with a view of the sea
which we got to observe during sunset. We powered through and made it
all the way to Reggio Calabria, a city with a view of Sicily across
the way, so we could easily cross back over on the ferry the next
morning. We managed to find a hotel near the sea and had dinner at a
modern restaurant right on the water before calling it a night.
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The next day we crossed back to the
island and I led us in the direction of Taormina, a pretty town I had
visited with my friend, Alex, and a place I figured they'd like to
see. With an amazing view over the coast and a lively atmosphere with
many tourists and shops, we enjoyed an afternoon there before heading
for our next destination, Mount Etna, the volcano which mesmerized
Uncle Barry. We took the road up that allowed us to drive as close to
it as possible and we stopped at the cabin at the end some pictures
and a drink. It was a lot colder up there. Somewhat satisfying his
curiosity of the smoking mounting, we started the long journey home,
through winding mountain roads and villages that would take us back
to the main highway....or so we thought.
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The view from Taormina </div>
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on the base of Mount Etna </div>
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Poor Auntie Pam was feeling a little
car sick from all the winding, but just as we were making our way
down a mountain which connected to the highway underneath, we passed
a strange road sign and then all of a sudden, we found ourselves
stopped in front of a barrier completely blocking the road. We were
really confused but with no other options, we turned around and
started back up the mountain while I scrutinized the map for an
alternative. It was about 9pm and fortunately upon returning to the
town at the top of the mountain, there happened to be a little mini
mart still open. I went inside with the map and told the people what
had happened, to which they nodded knowingly and said that the road
had been closed for a couple months due to a landslide.
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They said there were a few alternatives
and started explaining. However, first, these were rural folk and I
had a hard time understanding as they talked primarily in dialect,
and second, they don't know how to read maps, so they were giving me
directions based on landmarks (mostly restaurants) and lefts and
rights, nothing I could really program into the GPS, and seeing as it
was dark and we were tired and Auntie Pam was sick, I was getting a
little nervous. Then by chance a man walked in and said he was taking
an alternate road that connected to the highway and that we could
follow him, so after consulting my companions in the car, we decided
to go for it. The man was kind to wave us on after he'd reached his
destination and it wasn't long before we were on the homestretch of
our journey, exhausted but relieved.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22N87xIICNJvkzV9jaqaobMVnNgTi4arAvrvoYsmHg9_k43_QZ9Ej5hWflTRCEdmqDWNzAUvOKFoFSnaeg-TYVYr6bhVnhvoI5HC7CShdB6P38gfROzoWRAJSMGqxKRLKz5EmH-vgwZTd/s1600/IMG_0469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22N87xIICNJvkzV9jaqaobMVnNgTi4arAvrvoYsmHg9_k43_QZ9Ej5hWflTRCEdmqDWNzAUvOKFoFSnaeg-TYVYr6bhVnhvoI5HC7CShdB6P38gfROzoWRAJSMGqxKRLKz5EmH-vgwZTd/s320/IMG_0469.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
After seeing them off a few days later,
it wasn't long before I had another visitor. Rosie was back for a few
days but this time the farthest we traveled was to Mondello beach and
back. One day I had left Rosie suntanning to do a bit of
skateboarding with my friend, Andrea, and after saying goodbye to him
I was walking back to the beach when I got stopped by a girl on her
bike. She asked 'Are you American?'. I smiled and said 'I'm Canadian'
and her next question was ' Are you Sergio's friend?' and I said
'Yeah! Are you his frisbee friend?' and she said 'Yeah!'. My friend
Sergio from Tuesday night skateboarding had told me a number of times
about an english friend of his who he played was a frisbee expert
that he played with on sundays. Apparently he had told her about me
too, as his Canadian skateboarding friend, so that's how she had
recognized me. I invited her to hang out on the beach with Rosie and
I that afternoon and she also accompanied us later on to party with
some New Zealand guys that Rosie had met on her flight. Since then,
I've seen Eue regulary and we've become good friends.
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
With all my visitors gone I was getting
a more worried about finances and discouraged that my endeavors
hadn't worked out. Then by some stroke of luck I received an email.
It was from a magazine art director in Vienna who had been on
vacation in Palermo and happened to buy my postcards. Well she liked
it so much that she wanted to publish it in the italian issue of the
magazine she worked for. I couldn't have been happier! The payment
for the illustration quintupled the printing costs of all the
postcards, so it made everything worth it. I was so fired up that I
made another round at the souvenir stores with my postcards,
convincing the place who had taken 5 of each to take a larger load,
and even making a second attempt at some of the others that had
turned me away. Unsuccessfully. But at least I told them they were
wrong that people DON'T only want to buy postcards of monuments.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In another stroke of luck I was asked
to record a voice over for a publicity video that an advertising
agency was working on. They needed a mother tongue english speaker
and it's hilarious that due to slim pickings, I was one of few
candidates for the job. It was kind of amusing doing it, and paid
well for the time spent, but in the end they didn't end up using it
as the client wanted a male voice instead.
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<br /></div>
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Taking whatever jobs I could come up
with, I also filled in a few times for a girl who needed me to do
check ins and check outs at her family's villa that they rented to
tourists. It seemed like an alright deal as they would pay 25 euro
for each check in and check out, and in theory it wouldn't have taken
longer than 20 minutes each. However, as I didn't have a car I needed
to make arrangements with the girl's father to pick me up and take me
to the villa, about 20 mins out of town. Well, as I learned after my
'orientation session' when the girl picked me up one day to show me
the villa and give me the run through; every day I was involved with
this family, it was a full day operation. And there would also be
voices at high volumes involved. They were quite friendly and I was
always fed lunch and invited to make myself at home when the Dad
needed to nap after lunch before driving me back to the city, but
what they didn't realize is that there were many other ways I would
have preferred to spend my time. Once spending an exhausting 8 hours
with them just for 25 Euro.
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Apart from these one off jobs, I had
gotten a call from a doctor who wanted english lessons at his office
twice a week, and so I had a more regular gig for a couple months. He
was a very nice and intelligent man and I didn't mind the 25 min bike
ride to his office each way, especially because we spent most of the
lesson in conversation and I didn't have to prepare much.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Despite my reluctance, I had also
contacted the animation studio in Rome who I had done some work for
previously, as they had informed me earlier in the year that they
were expecting an animation project that I could work on. I hadn't
been very thorough in following up previously because a) they had
said the same thing to me times before when nothing actually came
through and b) I was so desperately trying to find an alternative to
working in this field, and c) they didn't pay me for 8 months after
completing the last project......but as I was trying practically
everything and struggling, I had to trust that the thing that came
through was the right thing, and so, when this animation work came
through I accepted.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was the first time that I animated
professionally in Flash, but it didn't take long to get the hang of
it. However I quickly realized that I'd made a huge mistake to accept
the project. Each animator was responsible for a full 6min and 40 sec
episode and the management was so disorganized (or possibly there was
no management), the material always late, the communication horrible,
the pay peanuts, and the regular deadline super tight. Having some
doubts about being able to work on it full time I had negotiated a
longer time frame prior to starting, but I quickly saw that it didn't
really matter as I couldn't do my work without the material I needed
being ready.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A summer day with Andrea and Claudia before work started</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The Santa Rosalia celebration </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So as it always seems to happen when I
work in animation, the stress arrived in full force. It was summer
but I was on house arrest. The only good thing was that I wasn't
missing any waves because the summer is nearly completely flat. The
one day we did get some waves and I escaped to the sea, one of the
young surfers asked me really concerned “Jennie why are you so
pale?!” That day I learned that surfing works best with a clear
head, as I was distracted and stressed and couldn't get any waves.
That was the day that I also had a giant burn on my leg after a glass
pitcher full of boiling water broke while I was making tea. I had my
leg desperately bandaged up with waterproof bandages despite the
pharmacist's recommendation that I shouldn't risk going in the water
because it could be infected. I told her I just wanted to go the the
beach, but didn't say anything surfing hehe. Well the bandage managed
to stay sealed and even though I surfed like crap that day, I was so
happy to be out in the sun and water.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">An eve out with friends </span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Somehow I managed to meet my deadline
and finished the episode in time. My sister, Amy and her husband
Darryl arrived shortly after I had sent off the files at the end of
July, and I rushed over to meet them at their B & B. It was great
to see them and I heard some stories about their experiences in
Venice before we went for a little stroll and grabbed dinner. Over
the next few days together we spent time on the beaches in Mondello
and Cefalu` (with AC breaks and sunburn recuperation time for them
inbetween), and toured the markets of Palermo. It wasn't long before
our time was up and they were off to the airport to catch their
flight to Rome. I was to followed their path to the airport a few
hours later as I was off to Toronto.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I arrived in the center of Toronto
around midnight, but had to make alternate arrangements as I found
myself homeless due to a date mixup with the friend I was supposed to
stay with. Luckily Firas took me in for a few nights and I spent the
week catching up with friends, running errands, and having a few
adventures with Tess including skateboarding on lakeshore and a
random afterhours dance party in Trinity Bellwoods Park with a sound
system equipped tall bike.
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Soon I was off to Calgary, and reunited
with my sis Amy who had a arrived back in Canada a few days prior.
The month of August was spent in Alberta with my family and I got to
meet my precious niece for the first time. I was juggling work
revisions in the mix too, so it wasn't total relax, but I managed to
have lots of family time, catch up with friends, and even hit up the
Calgary skatepark. </div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">My sis and Jayde</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Kelly's goodbye party </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx45WEMs9SVa8Q37AbYppH2vPLb-lNipfx-11hP8Bs80FDapp9a-a-Dds1Qto_53UcL8FWN2wxYppMTDwDSu1b0k96_QrCAbLW5zYPpimnSqw_MoN5XtcAlBy6yK7vjT3U-4jLiml-JpGX/s1600/family_new.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx45WEMs9SVa8Q37AbYppH2vPLb-lNipfx-11hP8Bs80FDapp9a-a-Dds1Qto_53UcL8FWN2wxYppMTDwDSu1b0k96_QrCAbLW5zYPpimnSqw_MoN5XtcAlBy6yK7vjT3U-4jLiml-JpGX/s320/family_new.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlKdd47l5oSNUHSz3SvQXTnxI1TAd4M_JHRUZKWRpP8LDX5YC4UTJ-ZYoQ6zJK6cRtWspdGFSZYQgK4vHd93zXYyFkP3Ns5p7qR_puHCG0_dF7FHfh287p6Eg74ylTkF8G_FVvW6crZe5/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlKdd47l5oSNUHSz3SvQXTnxI1TAd4M_JHRUZKWRpP8LDX5YC4UTJ-ZYoQ6zJK6cRtWspdGFSZYQgK4vHd93zXYyFkP3Ns5p7qR_puHCG0_dF7FHfh287p6Eg74ylTkF8G_FVvW6crZe5/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the meantime, the animation studio
had offered me another episode to animate, and I turned it down based
on the scandalous workload to pay ratio. However they shocked me by
agreeing to my proposed payment which was over 4 times the original,
and so, I was locked in for another 7 weeks, interrupted for a week
as I had a vacation already planned. I was going to France on a surf
trip with the surf school in Palermo.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Back in Palermo for only a few days, I
went out for dinner with my friends and Linda, Firas's sister, who
was on vacation in Italy. Jet lagged and a little bit broken from a
skateboarding spill I had in Alberta, I managed to make it to the
airport early morning a few days later to meet the group of surfers
(mostly teenage boys) before taking off to Bordeaux.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0bFEnUGq6dSecGdQE46S6UklsZUyqdiO2GSO5DY5FSJYHQQaqKl5DZ-FVSkAo9e7LwaNrlJYS_ezD8FBPsljaQDGhWqCcRrj92BL0FoKoIU3VrKRIiVZw4TL6L9X_ixnQ2ODL1-iVgTOF/s1600/524468_649910978361563_1215700621_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0bFEnUGq6dSecGdQE46S6UklsZUyqdiO2GSO5DY5FSJYHQQaqKl5DZ-FVSkAo9e7LwaNrlJYS_ezD8FBPsljaQDGhWqCcRrj92BL0FoKoIU3VrKRIiVZw4TL6L9X_ixnQ2ODL1-iVgTOF/s320/524468_649910978361563_1215700621_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The italian waiting game began early on
in the trip as we had time to kill before the flight and I resisted
nodding off until I sat down on the plane. Upon arriving in the
Bordeaux airport we were all eager to hit the waves immediately but
our pick up from the surf house where we were staying was late and
hours passed before we finally began the 2-3 hour journey to
Hossegor. As one might guess from the tardiness, the surf house was
ran by italians. We didn't waste anytime unloading the vehicles once
we arrived, and as the rooms weren't ready yet, everyone changed into
their wetsuits on the patio and made a run for the nearest beach, La
Graviere, one of the beaches where the Quiksilver/Roxy pro would take
place a few weeks later. The waves were big and powerful, a bit
intimidating for the first day out after not surfing for months....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GZIq_uwNzAGxpGlblTzt3ZrnYy6CZ_0-6UuJ62WbIAsQ9nuGgMJ20vg4bBB-4PQlNpC8jz2Il-03jsWlE7xcLXg3-07x_hIGuXQjeBl6G4Vk7oadSUnVt0eyRrX8OyHC72FLaJAi3uLe/s1600/DSC00780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GZIq_uwNzAGxpGlblTzt3ZrnYy6CZ_0-6UuJ62WbIAsQ9nuGgMJ20vg4bBB-4PQlNpC8jz2Il-03jsWlE7xcLXg3-07x_hIGuXQjeBl6G4Vk7oadSUnVt0eyRrX8OyHC72FLaJAi3uLe/s320/DSC00780.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> My travel companions to Hossegor: Antonino, Vice`, Santo, Tonino (my ex student), and Giulio</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was difficult to just make it to the
lineup, and I tried to stay off to the side, away from the good
surfers as to not get in anyone's way. I made a few attempts to catch
waves and had a few nasty wipe-outs before my head was clear and I
was in rhythm to paddle for a wave coming my way. I popped up and
found myself super high up on the biggest wave of my life. I managed
to make the descent, pushing hard with my back leg to not get spit
over the falls and made it to the bottom before the wave closed out.
Feeling satisfied and lucky, I packed it in for the day shortly
after, and watched the other surfers from the beach.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuEF9SbN_jGD5m8LcFr2732Dw_VIX31bB0AN-Gj2i7GbYuXAee6RnQ5pNbWZ2Si_CAlqhDBWD5jncVBJSDMo4Cf3IPXAVqo-UxLgNDbl56rFm1CAaxC_NLU2ApjtdR00JkhZ302lhc16QI/s1600/577366_10153283338955206_1947008518_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuEF9SbN_jGD5m8LcFr2732Dw_VIX31bB0AN-Gj2i7GbYuXAee6RnQ5pNbWZ2Si_CAlqhDBWD5jncVBJSDMo4Cf3IPXAVqo-UxLgNDbl56rFm1CAaxC_NLU2ApjtdR00JkhZ302lhc16QI/s320/577366_10153283338955206_1947008518_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Ready for waves with my newly painted board and taped shoulder</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrf0CET9pZSrDKhEI4VclbcX01NHI9agqa7DO0nuFdoze_ZIeJoxdp3mP0wP52nXB2Bc3hh9s3T6mZCKaGKTxieArM9Shyphenhyphen73VQpZoq7iSfXPnMwWITPXpJLbJt4VNjCSiioR7-6rGCUm3z/s1600/1375068_10202057034418235_1133995986_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrf0CET9pZSrDKhEI4VclbcX01NHI9agqa7DO0nuFdoze_ZIeJoxdp3mP0wP52nXB2Bc3hh9s3T6mZCKaGKTxieArM9Shyphenhyphen73VQpZoq7iSfXPnMwWITPXpJLbJt4VNjCSiioR7-6rGCUm3z/s320/1375068_10202057034418235_1133995986_n.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">After my first day epic wave</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Tg9UlCLmsm6TGIRLOn4aUQdcUdoCHyHTjfb41TuliHo8-Dn3cDa5OrE_dKhNMIU97kNUnBvHAuprJ_rt3XQlQms5h-gOVTqgxqYcVWAA3nuxm4RzPXYU0EaNOAYL4dUkCM2vTZyVOrAx/s1600/558660_10202057016537788_583636437_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Tg9UlCLmsm6TGIRLOn4aUQdcUdoCHyHTjfb41TuliHo8-Dn3cDa5OrE_dKhNMIU97kNUnBvHAuprJ_rt3XQlQms5h-gOVTqgxqYcVWAA3nuxm4RzPXYU0EaNOAYL4dUkCM2vTZyVOrAx/s320/558660_10202057016537788_583636437_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I went to bed early in the bottom bunk
of a room I shared with 6 other boys and caught up on some well
needed zzzz's before we packed up the vans the next morning to hit a
nearby beach, La Penon, which would become one of our regular spots.
It was always a bit complicated to decide what beach, and what time,
would bring good waves. In the ocean it depends not only on weather
conditions but also the tides which change many times throughout the
day. One day I was the only sucker to set my alarm when Danilo had
called for a 6am wakeup call. After we didn't actually leave the surf
house until 10am, I never made that mistake again.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3oHq7Vck-1V-Jnk_sa3L1WBEag2zTdPvdbLf8yWHPGG5jF19FQfJM0uBvfQvk5ZP4L8hctoE6FNkhxA2EvBSDGuUXQ3pv_9lz5yqtHtcIA0iBRUXBq7tvkGTCb1Co6zSXbsc0J18rW0JK/s1600/DSC00787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3oHq7Vck-1V-Jnk_sa3L1WBEag2zTdPvdbLf8yWHPGG5jF19FQfJM0uBvfQvk5ZP4L8hctoE6FNkhxA2EvBSDGuUXQ3pv_9lz5yqtHtcIA0iBRUXBq7tvkGTCb1Co6zSXbsc0J18rW0JK/s320/DSC00787.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
My bunk<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEH9w1atvWO_2PuDjE84OPscHfhrA6MpoV3MVpiVASExK4qTgAw1IgNnDondcv8QUM1G7YbhtqgKa80XsjXXSjiHyMkG-xw-pvRPFMW7DgaRh18mUVdu6UXhcmxDaQcRzwbj8c0MBTqzS/s1600/DSC00824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEH9w1atvWO_2PuDjE84OPscHfhrA6MpoV3MVpiVASExK4qTgAw1IgNnDondcv8QUM1G7YbhtqgKa80XsjXXSjiHyMkG-xw-pvRPFMW7DgaRh18mUVdu6UXhcmxDaQcRzwbj8c0MBTqzS/s320/DSC00824.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some days when the current was so
strong, I was using all my energy paddling to just try and stay in
the right spot, (usually never actually getting there) and if a wave
actually came to me I didn't have enough juice left in my arms to
catch it. Another day we were blessed with some great waves at
another spot to the south of where we were staying, but it was no
secret as the water was packed with surfers. I was a bit intimidated
as I was not used to the volume of people in the water, including not
just surfers but bodyboarders (who have an advantage catching waves
as they wear flippers) and Stand Up Paddlers (who also have an
advantage catching waves as they have heavier boards and a paddle,
which allows them to start from farther out).
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When there are so many people, there
becomes an air of desperation in the water and this can be dangerous.
I saw a few people having arguments due to drop ins (when you catch a
wave that someone else is on) and near collisions, and tried my best
to keep an eye on everything going on around me when paddling for a
wave. Unfortunately I'm not experienced enough to watch all the
people AND the wave I'm trying to catch at the same time, and due to
my nervousness to the possibility of getting hurt and/or of hurting
someone else in the event of a mistake, I couldn't catch any good
waves that day. Just the crappy ones that nobody else wanted. It was
frustrating as I'd surely have been having the time of my life with
the waves if I were on my own, and it made me appreciate how many
sunsets I'd surfed in Sicily, completely alone.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the whole area of Hossegor, surfing
was everywhere. The shops, the schools, the people. I loved it. I
explored the area on my own a few times and we checked out the outlet
stores on the outskirts as a group too. Our trips to the supermarket
were also fun, often minutes before closing time, with everyone
running around desperately. On the Friday night, I made an escape
from the Italians to a nearby town,Vieux Boucau, to meet up with my
friend from Toronto, Olga, who was on a surf vacation too. Despite my
efforts to rent a bicycle (I didn't have my id on me) and take the
bus (I missed the last one), I ended up cabbing it to the town about
a 20 minute drive north. It was amazing to see her and we sat down to
a dinner she'd prepared at her hostel while we caught up. Partying
with her friends was on the agenda that night and I was surprised by
the campground completely full of Germans who had spent the summer
there.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We had a good time dancing at the only
club in town and crashed late. The next day morning, although small,
the waves were long and super smooth. Olga lent me her spare wetsuit
and a Belgian guy lent me his extra longboard and we all hit the
water. After some adjustment to the longer board, I caught some waves
that gave me the longest rides of my life. Famished after a couple
hours in the water, we all went to eat before Olga's friend gave me
a lift back to the Italian surf house.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Departure day was a bit sad as the
waves weren't suitable for a quick surf session before hitting the
road. Also because part of the group was staying another week. I
helped the teenage surfers get checked in and arrive at the gate, and
tried to keep them in order. Italians in general don't tend to be so
aware of other people, like when they cut in line or stand in the
middle of traffic flow, and not just when they're teenagers.
Sometimes it seems intentional and shows a total disregard for
manners, but other times (in the case with the teenagers), they're
completely oblivious.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I would find out a few days later when
I met up with the Grandes, a family from my town Drumheller, in
Palermo, that we were on that same flight from Bordeaux to Palermo.
Despite recognizing me from afar they had figured I was an italian
woman, likely the wife of Paolo, the Italian man in our group with
his 2 surfer kids. We met for dinner in Palermo one evening and upon
sharing our stories about the preceding days, they put the pieces
together, and realized that we had actually been sitting rows apart
on the plane. We shared a number of bottles of wine and many laughs
before saying goodnight. They continued on their trip the next day to
Syracuse.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A few days after that was my 30<sup>th</sup>
birthday, they eve of which was also the last night in Palermo for a
girl who had become a good friend, Zoe. We decided to make a joint
celebration out of it, and it would become an epic night that we'll
never forget. As it was a Thursday we had some difficulty deciding on
a place, but we came across an event on a hotel terrace and decided
it would be perfect. In true italian spirit we arrived late, but our
reserved table was waiting for us. Over the next few hours, a small
group of good friends assembled and we joked and danced and drank and
it was great. At midnight I not so conspicuously popped the bottle of
champagne I'd brought (as it the customary way to celebrate birthdays
in italy) and had a toast with my friends who I felt really lucky to
have.
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The night continued on in the Vucciria
for a few of us and then back at Zoe's apartment where no one got
much sleep. The next morning she was a bit frantic as she had a plane
to catch, but I helped her get packed up and walk her to the bus
stop. She was so sad to leave but I tried to console her and wished
her well before seeing her off and riding my bike home to crash. It
was 10am before I finally did. When I woke up in the afternoon I
realized I still had time to catch some waves and my friend, Al,
accompanied me to the surfing beach for my birthday surf session. We
went for gluten free pizza after that and I crashed early with a
smile on my face after having a great 2 day birthday.
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Birthday surf!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was only 2 weeks after that Zoe
decided to accept a job she'd been offered in Palermo and move back.
She was my house guest for a few days while she looked for an
apartment and I was deep back into animation work by that point and
it was nice to have her company and support to snap me out of zombie
mode. One day, late at night after finishing my quota for the day, I
glanced at my email to find a message from the New York Surf Film
Festival. I had submitted my short surfer girl cartoon to an online
surf film festival collective months ago, and they had seen it and
wanted to include it in the festival in October. I was over the moon!</div>
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Also in early October I had the
motivation to meet my deadline before the upcoming weekend as an old
friend wanted to visit. My ex Giuseppe, who I hadn't seen
in over a year and a half. I managed to send all the files off in
time and although wasn't exactly in top form afterwards, I was happy
to see him and took him on Marco's street food tour and to the beach
and for a few nights out during his quick trip.
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Early November I helped assemble an
Eco-Exhibition with Danilo and Paolo from the surf school. They had
done a project involving surf therapy for young offenders, taking
them surfing and on beach cleanups, which they collected material
from to use to make sculptures. I attended one of the creative work
shops in the spring to make a creative contribution, and now it was
time that they were going to display the works. I helped Paolo bring
together his vision and had the idea to add a background with bright
blue waves.</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Me , Paolo, and Danilo</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The colorful fish I constructed in the spring</span></div>
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My surfing escapes in late september
and early october were some of my best surf sessions yet as I was
nailing some maneuvers and was so satisfied. I had less and less
opportunities to surf over the next few months as work took over and
the few days I could have spared didn't bring waves. Through November
the weather was really rainy and that meant no skateboarding either
in the evenings after I finished my work. During an anticipated
lighter work week of revisions I convinced Al to attend a trial tango
lesson with me. Intrigued, we decided we had nothing to lose by
signing up for the promotion for a month. We had some laughs whenever
we were able to make it, but from about the second lesson on I was
bored with the repeated basic steps, and wanted to learn faster. I
was often just watching the clock and waiting for the lesson to end.
There was also a lack of men which meant the girls had to rotate off
and I was sitting on the sidelines for too much of the time. I
stopped going for the last two weeks as it wasn't living up to my
expectations as a stress relief activity. Al had come down with the
flu so he didn't go either. Tango itself is lovely and I really like
it, but as always, finding the right class can be challenging.
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dinner at Al's</span></div>
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As December neared, my life had
completely fused with work and I was fighting an internal battle
against my conversion from human to robot. I was struggling with the
old familiar high-stress and low energy pessimism that <b><span style="font-weight: normal;">unfulfilling
</span></b>animation work brings out in me. Having good friends
around helped, as did having a light at the end of tunnel. I was
finishing just before Christmas and ready to plan a change in scenery
immediately in order to help wipe the slate clean. I considered
escaping for a few days on my own to a sicilan island over Christmas
but upon skyping with my mom one day, we happened to find a cheap
flight home and we booked it right away. Afterall, there was no
better place for me to recuperate and I was so happy to get to share
Christmas with my family after missing out last year.
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In the days before setting off for
Canada, we threw a party for our friend, Eue, and another British
friend, Vicky aka. wonderwoman, hosted an amazing christmas dinner
for which she cooked a 13 kg turkey among many other things.
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Having a week and a half of work to go,
I started a long day of journey across the ocean, working in airports
and on the plane and was relieved to arrive in Calgary where my sis,
Amy was waiting. I had been warned about the weather and had all my
winter gear ready to go, but was still surprised upon exiting the
airport into -15 degree, snowy weather. It'd been awhile since I'd
been in real canadian winter. I spent a nice weekend with Amy in
Calgary before heading to Drumheller. Due to jet lag, I was often
starting my work day at 5am, which at least left the evenings free to
spend with family. I enjoyed celebrating my little neice's birthday
who had grown so much since I'd seen her 4 months before, and by
Christmas I had my work totally sent off.</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The indisputable</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The holidays were nice and relaxing and
just what the doctor ordered. We had lots of family time between a
Christmas morning card game, watching movies, a jam session,
snowmobiling, and sledding and although the two weeks passed quickly,
I was so thankful to be so comfortable in my mom's warm house and
have lots of hugs and love everyday I was there. I caught up with
Canadian friends on the phone and got to meet up with my best friend
from high school, Kelly, to hear about her adventures living in New
York. Before we knew it, it was time to head to the airport and I was
able to squeeze in one more visit with my 'cousin' Martinho who I had
known in Florence and was back in Calgary for the holidays. </div>
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24 hours later I rolled into my
apartment in Palermo, exhausted, and chatted with Marco before taking
a hot bath and crawling into bed at 9 pm. I knew there were waves the
next day and had it in the back of my mind to go, but sleep was the
priority and I woke up at 4pm (16 hours later). That evening was
Marco and Andrea's joint birthday celebration and then the following
day New Year's Eve. We put together a dinner at my place, including 2
Canadian friends of Andrea's on vacation. It turns out, Jenny (one of
these Canadian girls who was Andrea's colleague in Sydney) and I we
both worked at Core Digital Pictures in Toronto around the same
period and we knew a number of the same people. It was just a group
of 5 of us girls that continued the party after the cheers at
midnight. We'd reserved tickets across the street from my place at a
theater turned disco. We danced until the early hours and didn't have
any of the usual new years hassle of waiting for a cab as we just
walked right back across the street to bed afterwards. Strategically
planned of course.
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Zoe is staying with me for the week as
her apartment had been rented to tourists, and on new years day
(yesterday) we had a number of visitors with whom we shared leftovers
from dinner. Today is sunny and fresh and I'm feeling like I may have
beat jet lag already after the couple of late nights and sleep ins.
2014 is feeling super exciting as I have a number of things in the
works including another gallery show and and a big move, all left to
unfold in the upcoming months. I'm so glad to have finished working
for now and can dedicate my time to myself for awhile instead of to
making money. Let's just hope the animation studio will pay me within
a reasonable time frame. It looks like we'll have some waves arriving
on the weekend, fingers crossed!</div>
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Thanks for reading! </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Giving Al and Eue a surf lesson</span></div>
jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-52769371945909642382012-10-12T06:51:00.003-07:002012-10-12T06:51:45.463-07:00Making Waves (Facendo Le Onde)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLg-xUbe8g-NvCBiGcOzVDBS9psbuKG3A67ghOR8bfsV7ZMzxWtMAB_Ime4Qvq2FCjbNQKaioru24QQURO5FDnoGR6XMKYC5UF3_IvGg6QNPkNQXIuhzxW8lGkTUnZkKLfaQ6As2g_69-/s1600/IMG_7366.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTLg-xUbe8g-NvCBiGcOzVDBS9psbuKG3A67ghOR8bfsV7ZMzxWtMAB_Ime4Qvq2FCjbNQKaioru24QQURO5FDnoGR6XMKYC5UF3_IvGg6QNPkNQXIuhzxW8lGkTUnZkKLfaQ6As2g_69-/s320/IMG_7366.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_iLHTELo8KplmGUR_Zla5Bb8gVEcQpgM1DnSRX1vJZHkAHPReTWXKdjF8mGhhzhyMutVVYlDT7S0DDW8SqrAR2yBdu5lneEKBdxv3EaCAu7Hyl0QErvWHp_X0PRgnchX0Cd9ecIIaf5q/s1600/vlcsnap-2012-05-18-14h29m01s64.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_iLHTELo8KplmGUR_Zla5Bb8gVEcQpgM1DnSRX1vJZHkAHPReTWXKdjF8mGhhzhyMutVVYlDT7S0DDW8SqrAR2yBdu5lneEKBdxv3EaCAu7Hyl0QErvWHp_X0PRgnchX0Cd9ecIIaf5q/s320/vlcsnap-2012-05-18-14h29m01s64.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The past months have flown by and many things have
changed…the first being that I gave the English school word that I wouldn’t be
renewing my contract which expired at the end of June. I came to the
realization that although I was doing a decent job, teaching English really wasn’t
what I was meant to do and the amount of time I was putting in wasn’t feeling
worth the financial compensation. I knew someone else would be better off in that
position while I’d be better off doing what I am meant to do….that is, making
pretty pictures?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With that decision I
booked a trip to Rome and starting researching animation studios while calling
in all reinforcements- that is, information from anyone I was remotely
connected with, who had some knowledge of the animation studios in Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had a few email responses from studios who were eager to
meet me, and after staying up all night arranging my portfolio and packing, the
last weekend in May I was off to the airport again. I received word last minute
from my friend that I wouldn’t be able to stay at her place, so I landed in at
a hostel near termini station to drop my bags before heading to my first
appointment. The power was out at the studio’s building near the Vatican that
day, so they were a bit disorganized, but I was relieved that they offered to
speak to me in English as I was super tired from staying up all night. They
liked my work and were excited that I was Canadian, as they said they were currently
looking into setting up a sister studio in Canada. They said they would let me
know when they had work available, which I would be able to do freelance from
Palermo, as the majority of their artists worked out of house. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This freelance system was the same at the other 2 studios I
visited too. I had actually thought that if I found work, it would be necessary
to move to Rome and work in house, which I was prepared to do as I really liked
Rome and figured I’d be better off gaining a new experience there rather than
continuing to give English lessons in Palermo. However, this solution served me
even more. I could stay in Palermo and pay cheap rent, live by the sea, and
make good money from doing a job I’m experienced at. And this is what happened
as I got REALLY lucky to show up to a studio at the perfect time for a great
project.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SVeCb0qjqszAnIofQSg6sugeckDtcp77h4MwvHDBR_GUs5jGQCov24UI6OlEEbtua4_GLCuFXZI7JdhsePMyC2VN3qG1-LH3_OMMrL7_O-JchMCT6-9lner3J3SM1FoDGkciKqP063wB/s1600/DSC03334.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SVeCb0qjqszAnIofQSg6sugeckDtcp77h4MwvHDBR_GUs5jGQCov24UI6OlEEbtua4_GLCuFXZI7JdhsePMyC2VN3qG1-LH3_OMMrL7_O-JchMCT6-9lner3J3SM1FoDGkciKqP063wB/s320/DSC03334.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimRQxbqV5HbOUcrdgnrHxqciV93IINHQdFlvVfBC0Jfomp9aoKjLxLYE2QOS6bwrcUgVby4AfyCkfpWE3_Mb8L2wICxjTTyODfRyIPg2ljx8HnQEL-hOI2-pfeuYW5kkckp84snFSbooW9/s1600/DSC03321.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="83" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimRQxbqV5HbOUcrdgnrHxqciV93IINHQdFlvVfBC0Jfomp9aoKjLxLYE2QOS6bwrcUgVby4AfyCkfpWE3_Mb8L2wICxjTTyODfRyIPg2ljx8HnQEL-hOI2-pfeuYW5kkckp84snFSbooW9/s320/DSC03321.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I ended up with a week-long contract, to do a storyboard for
a short cartoon which would be on a DVD for the ‘Zecchino D’Oro’ which is very
famous in Italy as all the kids grow up watching these music video type
cartoons which accompany a child’s voice singing. This particular cartoon they
needed help with was about a little girl turtle, who wanted to dance the rumba,
but couldn’t because her shell was too heavy and she was too slow. It was the
perfect gig for me and I was stoked that the director was giving me complete
freedom on it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was also great to be
working on something in Italian and dealing with the director and other staff
completely in Italian, on top of it, the week contract would pay the amount of
money I earn in 2 months at the English school. After that, I knew for sure I’d
made the right choice to give up teaching English. </div>
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For the rest of the weekend in Rome, I hung out with my
friend, Sally (the same Sally from my last post in Florence), as well I met up
with Ombretta, my roommate Marco’s friend (also from my last post), and she introduced
me to her Sicilian friend, Michele. He taught me how to buy fish in Sicilian
dialect and gave me a ride back to my hostel on his motorcycle, but not without
an evening motorcycle tour of Rome first. It was absolutely incredible, such a
different and non touristy way to experience Rome! I also met up with,
Federico, the cute guy Kelly and I met in Milan, and Sally and I partied with
him and his friends in Trastevere, the night-life neighborhood. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGf82F0x4HvHG03LR_UnY1VAhp8xVdB8glPmj8NluNPv2uFuDmf7joM4-hb6Vg5EvWmENqyRgicJusoT4oG7zr0DKbsx9aPD9V57AHEF81ZLplE_HVcvvYfKCDr3bzY9qZ9-ioCsETUbuR/s1600/DSC03316.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGf82F0x4HvHG03LR_UnY1VAhp8xVdB8glPmj8NluNPv2uFuDmf7joM4-hb6Vg5EvWmENqyRgicJusoT4oG7zr0DKbsx9aPD9V57AHEF81ZLplE_HVcvvYfKCDr3bzY9qZ9-ioCsETUbuR/s320/DSC03316.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was an amazing trip and I was so amazed that things
worked out so well. Upon getting home, I dove right into my week’s worth of
storyboarding, which was a bit intense as I was still teaching English that
week, as well as attending a promotional event with the school one day. But I
managed it and the director told me I was an angel who fell from the sky, as they
were really in a pinch being that he was tied up with other things and they didn’t
have anyone else qualified to work on the project. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSC8MliNIZy4NDvVV5DWpMbW52LoBwv_ft01gGPfzUdVCsszawrDqeZ-bzGk_i59aOFZfszpQBryG0p0Z2L_2qlJ5-9Ve5GbXrpLu_iGvqD9Jf5pWaesyqZjsQn3Dub9mBKakj8W4oM0Om/s1600/DSC03355.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSC8MliNIZy4NDvVV5DWpMbW52LoBwv_ft01gGPfzUdVCsszawrDqeZ-bzGk_i59aOFZfszpQBryG0p0Z2L_2qlJ5-9Ve5GbXrpLu_iGvqD9Jf5pWaesyqZjsQn3Dub9mBKakj8W4oM0Om/s320/DSC03355.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">An image I made for the english school</span> </div>
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One evening after salsa class, a friend and fellow salsa dancer,
Giulio, who’s also an avid kite surfer, invited me to meet his surfer friends
who were skateboarding behind the courthouse. It was a really cool atmosphere
and there were a few girls playing volleyball while the guys were cruising
around on their skateboards. They encouraged me to give the skateboard a try, and
once I got the feel for it, it was so relaxing, I was hooked. </div>
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From there started the weekly ‘Tuesday skateboard night’ and
I was a regular from then on, even though I had a few nasty spills (is 28 too
old to learn how to skateboard?). I also started bringing my Frisbee and sometimes
people brought snacks for everyone. The guys were teasing me, asking when they
were going to get to taste some Canadian sweets, so the next week I made some
cookies with maple syrup. They were gluten free and I had experimented a bit
with tapioca pearls since I couldn’t find any tapioca flour, and as a result
there were some little chunks in them. So I called them ‘Moose Poo’. I think
everybody remembered me after that<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/RFC5wtkHoHc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"> Check out my stylish appearance in this skateboarding vid</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBS-k3YScd_Dv9CKEugNz2SV09E7XyFCJID7BygL5OeCHlj-QlXyrOw-E0JErGOfcCZqfZ894vPJJtaBgQf4minHjG9xfb5h-00RfyrE2QlmOWGASQVQYcjbE8klo9zTwhEpH0lCKiXxK/s1600/547116_3743795725080_610687310_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBS-k3YScd_Dv9CKEugNz2SV09E7XyFCJID7BygL5OeCHlj-QlXyrOw-E0JErGOfcCZqfZ894vPJJtaBgQf4minHjG9xfb5h-00RfyrE2QlmOWGASQVQYcjbE8klo9zTwhEpH0lCKiXxK/s320/547116_3743795725080_610687310_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Marco and I had signed up for the base course at the surf
school, which consisted of 6 lessons in total, and we’d get a call once a month
or so from Danilo, the instructor, when the waves were arriving. Marco and I
would jump on his vespa and ride about a half an hour to Isola Delle Femmine
(Island of the Females), the surfing beach. Carla, a girl my age, also joined
our group for the lessons. After the hour and a half lesson, Danilo would let
us continue on our own for as long as we wanted, so often we were out there for
3-4 hours. You’re always left with the urge for just one more ride!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbw2vaCDs_xK_v5nFDorqP_a50_yJyZR-VIJc9P_GhMyRP-wMo2a_hAf6XxFOmO1O9aHyDcZWoCoARKLcbXoQIz0gqEGlm9S8aMI4cvv6P6fBvZz9rz4q2zvVXC3jVXkUSOx9e05M4DfT7/s1600/DSC06006.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbw2vaCDs_xK_v5nFDorqP_a50_yJyZR-VIJc9P_GhMyRP-wMo2a_hAf6XxFOmO1O9aHyDcZWoCoARKLcbXoQIz0gqEGlm9S8aMI4cvv6P6fBvZz9rz4q2zvVXC3jVXkUSOx9e05M4DfT7/s320/DSC06006.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NvLfrK-O5DMT8geueZPtGNJk8I27nJ4p3KPU-zzdPPe7Kot3oJQqOq9BUjBzsVWGZsXyrRRqZIzAetB_w1TmMFwwpMQBHAGnmMw_TTmGd-eFFri0PLYJpfb0FJAXt0WhgnSoeAfkoo0u/s1600/456724_430783670274296_209646949054637_1644512_244885384_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7NvLfrK-O5DMT8geueZPtGNJk8I27nJ4p3KPU-zzdPPe7Kot3oJQqOq9BUjBzsVWGZsXyrRRqZIzAetB_w1TmMFwwpMQBHAGnmMw_TTmGd-eFFri0PLYJpfb0FJAXt0WhgnSoeAfkoo0u/s320/456724_430783670274296_209646949054637_1644512_244885384_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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One Friday evening in mid-June, I went with my new friend,
Claudia, who I met through the conversation exchange website before discovering
that Marco knew her, to an end of the year dance show of a prestigious contemporary
dance school in Palermo. We were both in awe and the videographer, a man we’d
met randomly the week before, introduced us to the director, who encouraged us
both to dance with her the following year. </div>
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After the show we decided to join Marco and his friends in
the Vucceria, a neighborhood in the historic center of Palermo, which transformed
from a fish market during the day, to a party area at night. The fish smell
lingered but maybe because of it, drinks were cheap and the crowd was alternative.
Claudia took me to get a glass of the local wine called ‘sangue’ (which means blood….this
results in lots of vampire jokes) for 1 Euro, and on the way out, I ran into a
student from the English school, Salvo.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0E6s-LIHFNiI5fyqcPsidPvUuPPTxBxuA9aXw35Izw3QbsFZ9xM5TXK2X31eYsQO_B5AZha8W67M6QDDGHpsTTcLc-08YeYPpCruIrS2SpqNzhYeDdkWMX7Pvnr_4tVHt4v6KVi45NXHm/s1600/IMG_7593.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0E6s-LIHFNiI5fyqcPsidPvUuPPTxBxuA9aXw35Izw3QbsFZ9xM5TXK2X31eYsQO_B5AZha8W67M6QDDGHpsTTcLc-08YeYPpCruIrS2SpqNzhYeDdkWMX7Pvnr_4tVHt4v6KVi45NXHm/s320/IMG_7593.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzCKg6g7m_6PVCTk8H5o736aGcAxYFcCI27S7JJ1bMuVobUwm0lOkuhLSffPYLvf3YHtSEbzblVe_v5rC1lvYHNDiEZi0KtItswETfM-v2KSK3nYHGD1nP9GQNg2Xtw5h9srZAazpFkkK/s1600/IMG_7592.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzCKg6g7m_6PVCTk8H5o736aGcAxYFcCI27S7JJ1bMuVobUwm0lOkuhLSffPYLvf3YHtSEbzblVe_v5rC1lvYHNDiEZi0KtItswETfM-v2KSK3nYHGD1nP9GQNg2Xtw5h9srZAazpFkkK/s320/IMG_7592.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The vucceria in daytime</span></div>
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I’d only officially taught him once, and passed him to the
next level despite giving him a hard time for not finishing the exercises in
his workbook, but we’d also chatted about our bikes a few times at the bike
rack in front of the school. So it was fun to see him away from the school
environment and we discovered we had a lot more to talk about as he was a
surfer and also liked painting. </div>
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Claudia had to take off and after that, talking turned into
dancing as a dj had started playing in the piazza. Maybe it was the sangue or
the busy crowd, or both, but neither Salvo nor I noticed that as we were
dancing, that someone unzipped my purse hanging from my shoulder. I turned
around to see a guy disappearing through the crowd. SHIT. </div>
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I looked down to see
my purse open and quickly noticed the absence of my cell phone. I looked
through the rest of it’s contents and fortunately my bank cards and cash were
still in the side pocket, so being that it was such a fast robbery the guy had
only grabbed my cell phone. </div>
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It’s too bad because it wasn’t even a great cell phone! But
it was great to me because it had a panoramic camera feature that I loved, as
well as the stored phone numbers, and photos and videos from dinner after the
last day of Salsa class. I was a little upset but convinced to make the best of
the night anyway. That we did, as I ended up getting home just after sunrise. I
think that might’ve been the first time in my life I’d ever done that…</div>
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The next day I woke up pretty early and headed to Wind, my
cell phone company, to figure out how to deal with the situation. After that I
tried to sleep a bit more with little success before heading out to catch a
ride to do a performance with my belly dancing group. Despite not paying the
extra funds necessary to take part in the theatre show that they did, the
teacher asked me last minute if I wanted to fill in for someone who couldn’t
make it to another performance they were doing in a festival in a nearby town
called Carini. I said sure! And I borrowed the costumes from the other student. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf47SxfP5QXbiUizTHSp7EuaUhvFWosDYE8l466HeAe8tdZDLOVPYM-ZH7nVbc-Bxih3Hc3KaBKnVVx3XlUezGYRrFubwIC00CGe2lphljmxZjPIBnyRA25bVhM_HWN7EFI8g3svZWkvHo/s1600/550595_3622096484160_508648022_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf47SxfP5QXbiUizTHSp7EuaUhvFWosDYE8l466HeAe8tdZDLOVPYM-ZH7nVbc-Bxih3Hc3KaBKnVVx3XlUezGYRrFubwIC00CGe2lphljmxZjPIBnyRA25bVhM_HWN7EFI8g3svZWkvHo/s320/550595_3622096484160_508648022_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Despite one pair of pants being way too short, I was happy
to be involved, and also got to model an elaborate Turkish style dress during
the fashion show segment. There were a ton of awesome performers so despite my
grogginess I enjoyed it all. Afterwards I caught a ride home with Desiree`, my
roommate, and her boyfriend, Gaspare, who came to watch, and I hit the pillow
hard. </div>
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After my last day at work at the English school, on June 27
I was off again! This time for a quick double trip, to Florence and Rome. My
cuz, Martinho, was back in Florence for a short time between finishing his
painting workshops in Canada and heading to his place in Portugal for the rest
of the summer, so I decided it’d be a good opportunity to visit him, and meet a
friend of his who helped me out with some information on animation studios in
Rome, and a friend of HIS, who also helped me out (as I said I really called in
reinforcements). Another reason for the trip was to see an exhibition at
Palazzo Strozzi, including many pieces by one of my favorite painters, John
Singer Sargent. </div>
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I arranged to stay at a friend of Marco’s, who had stayed at
our place in Palermo a few months prior and had offered to return the favor if
I ever needed a place to stay in Florence. Andrea, a Brazilian woman studying
fashion at Polimoda, was so super sweet and left me the keys to her place at
the coffee shop across the street as her and her husband were planning on
getting in late that day from a trip to Slovenia. We had some nice breakfasts
and great conversations altogether, and one day I even showed Andrea my samba moves.
She was quite impressed<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I showed them my
portfolio and children’s book and they were both really positive and
encouraging. Before I left to catch my train on the final day, I drew them a
little caricature thank-you card, which was really just a scribble, but they
loved so much, they scanned it and put it on facebook, and Andrea said her
husband even wanted to frame it, haha!</div>
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My first stop was in Empoli, a town near Florence where my friends Alison and Rob live. They made us an amazing lunch and we had lots to catch up on. I was able to meet up with my old pal, Daniele, to watch
Italy play in the European cup, but first we went for a fancy aperitivo on a
hotel terrace. We watched the game at 3 different locations in the city,
starting at Piazza Ognissanti, to the beach at San Nicolo`, and ended up at Piazzale
Michelangelo, buzzing from one place to the other on his motorino. It was
amazing watching the crowds explode when Italy scored the goals against Germany. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3FcdDhZqOz9aovfOZv0mqjoYaTkh6bkQudLKlk2KP3J45pKHDz4k0RXWBpFpW68mUSvjYeQ3Bll4_FqzYsjSC6dvlJTQXzn94HYnvHhH3VU-6JRv36L9906eYTFKPeLggb6pzn-5qegBj/s1600/DSC00017.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3FcdDhZqOz9aovfOZv0mqjoYaTkh6bkQudLKlk2KP3J45pKHDz4k0RXWBpFpW68mUSvjYeQ3Bll4_FqzYsjSC6dvlJTQXzn94HYnvHhH3VU-6JRv36L9906eYTFKPeLggb6pzn-5qegBj/s320/DSC00017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6n0kZg38QgUrmHQbbMHs_KvDkgzGpAma7mxawqlWAJNsQl5VEd2zKJA_U42kP_Ht8T2gafoEPRgRybrAxCO1rySX5dmd5B2FwNaHMBJqaOUupO-LmSvqz-63u78FD7NTHk93u6-tg7LR/s1600/DSC00024.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6n0kZg38QgUrmHQbbMHs_KvDkgzGpAma7mxawqlWAJNsQl5VEd2zKJA_U42kP_Ht8T2gafoEPRgRybrAxCO1rySX5dmd5B2FwNaHMBJqaOUupO-LmSvqz-63u78FD7NTHk93u6-tg7LR/s320/DSC00024.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLzwWSfuEKKMyt4eY7bLxQax-2qFmbp5UmdW_3W7sMWIEaEKFt7rRb-B7-4Sw_eC2WyErx_WBc1od9ZCJmPAbN19uqqqKkXg_jY1Wb4_HK3Y9MZwb3U54RTHn-sQB5Ehgl954Tpi2kJB0/s1600/DSC00015.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLzwWSfuEKKMyt4eY7bLxQax-2qFmbp5UmdW_3W7sMWIEaEKFt7rRb-B7-4Sw_eC2WyErx_WBc1od9ZCJmPAbN19uqqqKkXg_jY1Wb4_HK3Y9MZwb3U54RTHn-sQB5Ehgl954Tpi2kJB0/s320/DSC00015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I also met up with Valentina, my old Italian tutor turned
friend, and we caught up in the usual place, Piazza Santo Spirito, where we sat
down to enjoy some amazing and free performances, including live music,
puppets, and dancing. Friday I went to the Sargent exhibit and left super
inspired, then trekked up to the comic school to meet Silvano, an animation and
storyboarding teacher who’d provided me with a ton of information about the
studios in Rome. The school was in the final weeks of courses, so I patiently
waited for him to finish a lesson to get in a quick conversation with him and
thank him face to face for the help. </div>
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From there I headed to Martinho’s place. His friend, Mathias,
had invited us to his villa outside of Florence that evening for an aperitivo
on the terrace….whaaaaat!??? We took the bus out of the city and Mathias picked
us up from there. When we pulled up at the villa, I felt like I was watching an
old Italian movie, it was AMAZING; huge old, partly crumbly, with a big gate,
and tons of plants and trees surrounding. He walked us through the grounds
around to the back of the villa where his apartment entrance was and gave us a
tour through the house, leading to…..the terrace. It had an amazing view with
the duomo and the tower of palazzo vecchio in the distance. There were tears in
my eyes, it was so incredible. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQfTb6TCq5zjhgxKIW4yN3Q3mwY1CAc9myxhuZdsPBt1dsodZLcWKLSDECkpTR0A6giFzeoRj0CBWIX8w4eAbDreoXLzDnITUKIPEga3C62fAaa5-QSmm1UjpXdbl2Vc7vU6MklvJZ0A5/s1600/DSC00003.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQfTb6TCq5zjhgxKIW4yN3Q3mwY1CAc9myxhuZdsPBt1dsodZLcWKLSDECkpTR0A6giFzeoRj0CBWIX8w4eAbDreoXLzDnITUKIPEga3C62fAaa5-QSmm1UjpXdbl2Vc7vU6MklvJZ0A5/s320/DSC00003.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lQ8uagxX13FLTUR1QN-mfHKpr25F3YpbYKlznn7B9fb3jneJ2k1Dkc9NmZnHLoepxqWWafQA8Cl0ueq22DXWbGAW9I4cqVRcgtxmmuu6HplyqWdps838Wcag_pft0ifpzFoiwZTcld5X/s1600/DSC00007.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lQ8uagxX13FLTUR1QN-mfHKpr25F3YpbYKlznn7B9fb3jneJ2k1Dkc9NmZnHLoepxqWWafQA8Cl0ueq22DXWbGAW9I4cqVRcgtxmmuu6HplyqWdps838Wcag_pft0ifpzFoiwZTcld5X/s320/DSC00007.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_sga3Iq-qQt3Yg0rZ9PPWGBlIzrg-0gBXenk8jQ52BtuGfHV_-FsnmIUioeqR7IizODgAoPmPHTXfDSV63seRFDhw3Q3dV52T361yj8JI8xmCc3z_unAPSbA_0Q9thr1hn5Nri7zRu_1/s1600/563556_10150878512135684_353040662_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_sga3Iq-qQt3Yg0rZ9PPWGBlIzrg-0gBXenk8jQ52BtuGfHV_-FsnmIUioeqR7IizODgAoPmPHTXfDSV63seRFDhw3Q3dV52T361yj8JI8xmCc3z_unAPSbA_0Q9thr1hn5Nri7zRu_1/s320/563556_10150878512135684_353040662_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Other friends showed up, including Martinho’s friend, Lucio,
who’s a comic book artist and also a teacher at the comic school, who had
referred me to Silvano when I emailed him to ask if he knew any animation
studios in Rome. It was great to meet him as he’d been super helpful, not just
in this regard. Martinho had told me he was a surfer and spends part of the
year in Bali working and surfing, so when I’d first contacted him regarding
animation/art information back in March, I couldn’t help mentioning something
about surfing, especially because surfing in Italy isn’t something that many
people know about. He sent me a website with the surfing beaches in Sicily and
from there I found the one closest to Palermo, and after a fair bit of internet
digging, I found information about the surf school!</div>
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So I couldn’t quite express the extent of my appreciation.
At the same time I was slightly intimidated as I’d seen videos of him painting
on the internet….whoa!!!!! And as I’d also witnessed in the videos, he was
super handsome. We all drank and ate the evening away, and as things were
wrapping up, Lucio offered a ride back to Florence on his motorcycle. I
accepted. We met Martinho and his friend back in Piazza Santo Spirito and hung
out some more in front of a bar, so packed that getting a drink was impossible.
After things started shutting down there, Lucio dropped me off at Andrea’s
apartment, and I tried to thank him again for all his help, to which he replied
in the typical Italian way ‘di niente’ (it’s nothing), and told me to keep in
touch. </div>
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At the top floor of the palazzo, I put the key in the door,
ready to tip toe in so as not to wake them up….but the chain on the other side
restrained the door from opening all the way. Crap, somebody had forgotten that
I’d be sneaking in later. I sat on the stairs for a few minutes thinking of
what to do….it was after 3 in the morning. Should I call Martinho? I knew he
didn’t have space at his place and plus I had to catch the train to Rome fairly
early in the morning….so I came to the conclusion of the only thing I could do.
I felt so bad. Ding dong….ding dong….dingdongdingdongdingdong. Andrea finally
unlocked the door with half opened eyes while she apologized that she hadn’t
realized she’d put the chain on out of habit and I apologized for waking her up.
We laughed about it in the morning. </div>
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I was in Rome by mid-day and had arranged to visit the
studio for whom I’d done the storyboard the month prior. They showed me the
development of the project, which was looking good despite being vastly behind
schedule. As well, the director showed me a project they were anticipating in
the future, for which he would want my help on. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KwE6p9nKmHTF3uewBGBCaCugFl0PE-npkXlTnK4NrSlyTiRkqCnFwZcj_igYhC22xH0q4EChAKlWmsn_LMp0bYiFg1VegtNiAp760V4Fe-J3G79SyQ0DNmP4CdnSHq1eEO3SyJq0CeyC/s1600/DSC00013.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KwE6p9nKmHTF3uewBGBCaCugFl0PE-npkXlTnK4NrSlyTiRkqCnFwZcj_igYhC22xH0q4EChAKlWmsn_LMp0bYiFg1VegtNiAp760V4Fe-J3G79SyQ0DNmP4CdnSHq1eEO3SyJq0CeyC/s320/DSC00013.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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The following day I went to visit Cinecitta`, the famous
film studio where many Italian films were shot. I didn’t know exactly what to
expect but it was cool seeing costumes worn by some of my favorite old Italian
actors, as well as props from Fellini films, and other film sets. Regrettably,
my flight back to Palermo that evening was scheduled at the exact time when the
final match between Italy and Spain was happening for the European cup. I really
wanted to join my friend amongst the massive crowd in Circo Massimo for the
chaos but had to head for the airport instead. I guess I didn’t miss out too
much in the end as the victory was taken by spain and the Italians were very
distraught. </div>
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Back in Palermo, it was July, and I was super inspired from
my trip to get to work on my paintings, but my focus didn’t last too long as I
received an email about a job prospect for an animation studio in Ireland. Although
I often get emails about freelance projects in Canada, I don’t bother applying
as I know that without Ontario residency, I’m not able to work for the studios
in Toronto. However, as I’ve got Italian citizenship, I can work for any
country in the EU without a problem. </div>
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They had me do a storyboard test before
deciding to offer the contract, so I put in a few days of work and sent it off,
waiting to see how their decision would effect the rest of my summer. Sure
enough, the offer was on the table and although I was a bit disappointed as my
friend from Toronto, Alex, was coming to visit me during the period which the contract
would be going on, I knew I couldn’t refuse it as the money was too good. </div>
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So I awaited the start date….but it came and went, as did
many more days, while each day I was assured tomorrow, tomorrow by the
studio…..until the material finally arrived a week late. Well, the day after it
arrived I was off on a little pre-scheduled weekend getaway to a nearby island,
about 2 hours from Palermo on the ferry, called Ustica. So I at least put the
pdf file of the script on my phone so I could read it and start visualizing my
game plan while I enjoyed my trip. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBNgB-8adfyu8UC57LSZ96kKXlokJfsqxi2ztzh00nM-Usvuoi9W1E3HE_1WpgMZczRRMD6RHpj08qSAUAZdxjSs_8SZ89UFL389vHXrsed-DD13cThsIpOwHOqH68JGsY0DrNGLh7WpZ/s1600/394702_10151147335478417_933358970_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPBNgB-8adfyu8UC57LSZ96kKXlokJfsqxi2ztzh00nM-Usvuoi9W1E3HE_1WpgMZczRRMD6RHpj08qSAUAZdxjSs_8SZ89UFL389vHXrsed-DD13cThsIpOwHOqH68JGsY0DrNGLh7WpZ/s320/394702_10151147335478417_933358970_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Mnh2KYPkxuIw6zF6Vt6Te8_v99Q-zFDWvSe8z0M9eaCir-BX80ZmNE8H4B1SttYbaks10ie5sDzS-USudpsH3M_Ksh9_5EevaCrUk2TNm8hsRgMmQzy0t4rUHhFuB8_BjNEuUG4SK3XZ/s1600/268215_10151147353848417_79055183_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Mnh2KYPkxuIw6zF6Vt6Te8_v99Q-zFDWvSe8z0M9eaCir-BX80ZmNE8H4B1SttYbaks10ie5sDzS-USudpsH3M_Ksh9_5EevaCrUk2TNm8hsRgMmQzy0t4rUHhFuB8_BjNEuUG4SK3XZ/s320/268215_10151147353848417_79055183_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdBlQQjEnN-DujWfoX4tfU9X2XSpsswcx0w44AVkorvRr3hSJ2ZxbAd8DT3xRLDsnaToG3FGEO5oQgXMmKmSeoChdkjj4vhPRBh94G0jcgIGyO0tZZd-OHYFxDNyhM1c7ZJenML49-BKi/s1600/376854_10151147331678417_790051395_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdBlQQjEnN-DujWfoX4tfU9X2XSpsswcx0w44AVkorvRr3hSJ2ZxbAd8DT3xRLDsnaToG3FGEO5oQgXMmKmSeoChdkjj4vhPRBh94G0jcgIGyO0tZZd-OHYFxDNyhM1c7ZJenML49-BKi/s320/376854_10151147331678417_790051395_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The trip was organized by Tiziana, my ex- coworker and
friend from the English school, and the others were her friends, Marina and
Dario, and Al, a teacher at the English school from England, who had also
become my bestie in Palermo over the past couple months. We often went out for
drinks, and rode our bikes to the beach. He’d carry my air mattress on his back
and even blow it up when we got there, even though he wasn’t interested in
using it except for the odd game to see if I could knock him off of it. In
exchange I put spf 60 sunscreen on his white, white, back while he made jokes. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHU2X1WYp40Caq_9CZ-7ZUhEAgrKzVDOvmiaXjuoipCEmgs6LG_GDTAYMV7g06v7FYvodQXqykSmS2K-fqElsJbGUixExJM3AkoiFZASiAVAACGtDLo_8XmVRn7gpC4pUcaYm-OOgc0wrI/s1600/530244_10151147378168417_277105763_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHU2X1WYp40Caq_9CZ-7ZUhEAgrKzVDOvmiaXjuoipCEmgs6LG_GDTAYMV7g06v7FYvodQXqykSmS2K-fqElsJbGUixExJM3AkoiFZASiAVAACGtDLo_8XmVRn7gpC4pUcaYm-OOgc0wrI/s320/530244_10151147378168417_277105763_n.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A friend commented that this photo of Al and I looks like a movie poster </span></div>
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Once we even got robbed at the beach, 10 euros each….plus my phone. I was
prepared to go through the process of dealing with a stolen phone again, but by
some miracle, a man ended up returning it to me later that night. He’d found it
nearby the beach where it was stolen (the thief must have abandoned it, maybe
because it was in English and he couldn’t unlock it?) and when I called the
phone later on, this man answered and drove back down from Palermo to return it
to me. So lucky!!!! </div>
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Al and I also did some touristy things together, including
going to Monreale to see the gold mosaics in the church, and to the Modern art
gallery, where we ran into a student whose Dad worked there and ended up
reimbursing our tickets. Despite our mutual urge to integrate into Italian
society, it’s been amazing having someone to talk to in English, who relates to
the whole experience of it all, and someone to confide in and laugh with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Ustica was another adventure as we’d all brought our bikes
along. Mine was the only one without gears so my legs were shaking riding up
some of the steep hills on the rocky island, but we managed to ride around the
entire circumference, stopping at different beaches along the way. We stayed at
an ‘agriturismo’ (this might be translated as ‘farm tourism’ and are basically accommodations
in someone’s rural property) just outside of the little town, and we had fun
cooking (or mostly watching Tiziana cook in her bikini) a pasta dinner in the
outdoor kitchen. We also had a great seafood lunch the second day at a little
restaurant in the town. I got stung by a jellyfish on my hand while swimming in the sea the first day. It felt all stingy and tingley. Some people nearby told me to pee on it, so I found a sheltered spot between the rocks and got to it. It was all better after that. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMPTSb0RiSwrLpi8qIHn37yq8gMkMejg8qBLrKSBdC_PJP9hgL6PiTCbvpOBBAm9jISQ2FzW7Ts8OMYqeDd0IjSULB8ysalbxuOOlKg-OCln2tfoImGThMd-kqj3RFy_X6FKQgc11Eclx/s1600/487147_10151147356963417_1156513420_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMPTSb0RiSwrLpi8qIHn37yq8gMkMejg8qBLrKSBdC_PJP9hgL6PiTCbvpOBBAm9jISQ2FzW7Ts8OMYqeDd0IjSULB8ysalbxuOOlKg-OCln2tfoImGThMd-kqj3RFy_X6FKQgc11Eclx/s320/487147_10151147356963417_1156513420_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8wTZ3ykxYo_Qe8Mu_GhVqX8vMEI8xevQSAzuJLkKr5UwN8xGnCw0-6ngutURJSzo767FPV3kcZ6vs7oZA9LRHB_QPQBzh2KUALutrXhq4Hz1KO4nYmgX90_Wj3rMfX5w4yI9Zpm-D4M8y/s1600/DSC00067.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8wTZ3ykxYo_Qe8Mu_GhVqX8vMEI8xevQSAzuJLkKr5UwN8xGnCw0-6ngutURJSzo767FPV3kcZ6vs7oZA9LRHB_QPQBzh2KUALutrXhq4Hz1KO4nYmgX90_Wj3rMfX5w4yI9Zpm-D4M8y/s320/DSC00067.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK3xR3pk3H0GDioBDRGUjeNCKclHzytxieKgjtkfqqSMjIZrRd_CZNVLc4UPEie1cROKLfLDNSLCwISOEW2IP7TuOO65DbFdsxT4CTKv-Yj9aMQMocXftP24CeOZc-iHUVFASHc3B9_AbK/s1600/376955_10151147349158417_1326242533_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK3xR3pk3H0GDioBDRGUjeNCKclHzytxieKgjtkfqqSMjIZrRd_CZNVLc4UPEie1cROKLfLDNSLCwISOEW2IP7TuOO65DbFdsxT4CTKv-Yj9aMQMocXftP24CeOZc-iHUVFASHc3B9_AbK/s320/376955_10151147349158417_1326242533_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijTGvB6Ca1Aao4-y_UnGmTqrPp1PInqcbyIt_0lVQzz-dh82_gx1MwnUMwS_whHCFsrh_YmBol0EYRve60stbtGkA9AqgRODDSJ_OvC3G_l7gTBjND6vSxTId-85NqWWk2NaCYDb8ahMgU/s1600/531422_10151147369363417_872753725_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijTGvB6Ca1Aao4-y_UnGmTqrPp1PInqcbyIt_0lVQzz-dh82_gx1MwnUMwS_whHCFsrh_YmBol0EYRve60stbtGkA9AqgRODDSJ_OvC3G_l7gTBjND6vSxTId-85NqWWk2NaCYDb8ahMgU/s320/531422_10151147369363417_872753725_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2CDFtiGrnFKadf6L518w7kkfiNDSMeyLocIbJSOOvz8uMFy4t6cF0S6CJJOSutTKzkqeEESSRGtGvJRkfVD8Ryvvl1O2P5AtWsLWFT620_BR6AN5g8OLYb86ZgFPYdjf5Kz7Vfl0OfeZ/s1600/403831_10151147350653417_1949250653_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2CDFtiGrnFKadf6L518w7kkfiNDSMeyLocIbJSOOvz8uMFy4t6cF0S6CJJOSutTKzkqeEESSRGtGvJRkfVD8Ryvvl1O2P5AtWsLWFT620_BR6AN5g8OLYb86ZgFPYdjf5Kz7Vfl0OfeZ/s320/403831_10151147350653417_1949250653_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJl2f3p1ohdY4zVIQZXLh3SYXM4Em2rd1ZdwCjhUYM1qO_OkMwuRUnTvkP62zDOyL8YZBS6MRjyfuDNCxkkqTR3ihkdn6njzlu7eNA6cP_1tcvz5oGnyXQP8JIN0rnpcZ9Avv5jkOSaOlp/s1600/603523_10151147341803417_1628157488_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJl2f3p1ohdY4zVIQZXLh3SYXM4Em2rd1ZdwCjhUYM1qO_OkMwuRUnTvkP62zDOyL8YZBS6MRjyfuDNCxkkqTR3ihkdn6njzlu7eNA6cP_1tcvz5oGnyXQP8JIN0rnpcZ9Avv5jkOSaOlp/s320/603523_10151147341803417_1628157488_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Tizi and I playing with the sea urchins</span></div>
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Back in Palermo I got down to business, working as hard as I
could for the next 2 weeks to get the roughs done so I could take a few days
off when Alex showed up for her visit. I was so, so, so happy to see her when I
met her in Piazza Politeama. She was ready to collapse after weeks of Italian
adventures and a sleepless night in Venice before boarding her plane to
Palermo, but we went to eat and I talked her ear off until her eyes couldn’t
stay open any more. It worked out well that she needed a day of rest, and I
needed to finish off the roughs and send them to the director before starting
out on our little 4 day Sicilian getaway the following day. </div>
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First stop was Catania, a 2.5 bus ride east to Sicily’s
second largest city, known for being the place to party due to the large number
of university students who live there. After arriving at our hostel we went
straight to the beach, but as would become our pattern, we arrived late
afternoon, like 5pm. But it was beautiful and despite wishing we’d arrived
earlier, we enjoyed the evening sun. That evening we went to a restaurant
recommended by the hostel worker, and we were so glad we took his advice. It
was an amazing meal, a bit alternative, and super cheap. </div>
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From there we were off to find the nightlife. To make a long
story short, we ended up at a beachside nightclub, but we slowly came to
realize it wasn’t your average party going on. The place was at least 80% men,
and they seemed straight at first. But they weren’t…………totally. It was a
bisexual party but at least everybody liked dancing! This experience has led
Alex to theorize that all Italian men are bisexual as at one point she asked a
couple of guys dancing together if they were straight and they said yes. But an
hour later they were making out. I think we’ll be laughing about that night for
a long time. </div>
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The next day we peeled ourselves out of bed at check-out
time and went for a quick tour of Catania, snapping pictures from our seats on
the tourist train, well worth our 5 Euro to see the main sites while sitting
down. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf5k_g_ic3Zbo4t__SnXMvaNgHWrnGR-KtmnEjKy3pWKfI5TRUc8BKW1BCSnGVVBRC7Zkdi-QGaaMpUAx4AMSBcC3_QuTnc0Lvb4sitVnUbxjsoHR1OSZNBi0FiBsksOkz6OeE5uRxXUtt/s1600/IMG_7344.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf5k_g_ic3Zbo4t__SnXMvaNgHWrnGR-KtmnEjKy3pWKfI5TRUc8BKW1BCSnGVVBRC7Zkdi-QGaaMpUAx4AMSBcC3_QuTnc0Lvb4sitVnUbxjsoHR1OSZNBi0FiBsksOkz6OeE5uRxXUtt/s320/IMG_7344.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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From there we were off to Taormina, a very picturesque town
to the north. Thankfully we were able to find affordable beds in a hostel, as
the city is quite expensive due to it’s high volume of tourists. After getting
settled our first stop was once again the beach, arriving regrettably late in
the afternoon. It was a bit of a trek to the free beach area, as most of the
coastline was occupied by ‘lidi’ which are pay to enter beachside resorts. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaAZvObFRx-7OHxNsfFH3Tisitu4ghwcXt0nTLoowCkJT-sURmDoypAhEyJ7NTN80o942s9KDaPoRagEFICohcac6xfuHyHa_632XoOQPoGzgOKQ0wNTul_t3635hF6BlQ0krsMpmRaxo/s1600/IMG_7362.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGaAZvObFRx-7OHxNsfFH3Tisitu4ghwcXt0nTLoowCkJT-sURmDoypAhEyJ7NTN80o942s9KDaPoRagEFICohcac6xfuHyHa_632XoOQPoGzgOKQ0wNTul_t3635hF6BlQ0krsMpmRaxo/s320/IMG_7362.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjHqKGQ86RsENl6xD4KX9wGIQYMqt2x5LM5UB4Yepy0uT_Ryen14Pe29PxNqfsn6rHbW28TBUwa4oR16Nq-Wu3BIlDPRLFbUhfFAQ9CPLSZMbijpDmbrM9Nh06WE9OIPrRzdPilW-wSUR/s1600/IMG_7355.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjHqKGQ86RsENl6xD4KX9wGIQYMqt2x5LM5UB4Yepy0uT_Ryen14Pe29PxNqfsn6rHbW28TBUwa4oR16Nq-Wu3BIlDPRLFbUhfFAQ9CPLSZMbijpDmbrM9Nh06WE9OIPrRzdPilW-wSUR/s320/IMG_7355.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Asking for direction to the hostel</span></div>
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We were pretty exhausted and had a little nap in the sun. At
one point, half conscious, I heard a man’s voice comment in Italian to his
friend that he liked the view. The friend agreed and I heard a few camera snaps
and snickers. When we woke up later I asked Alex about it, and she said there
were a couple guys parked a little unnecessarily close to us. I think the view
they were commenting on and snapping pictures of was our behinds, haha. Well,
at least they didn’t try to rob us while we were sleeping. </div>
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We enjoyed a great dinner before walking through the pretty
streets, stopping for a drink at a stylish bar where we heard there was dancing
later on. We were so tired though that we couldn’t wait it out anymore and
decided to crash instead. Afterall, we still had the rest of our trip ahead of
us.</div>
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The next day we were off to Siracusa, Syracuse in english, known
as a historical city from the time of the ancient Greeks. We arrived on a
Sunday during siesta (the afternoon break) so maybe that’s partly why, but we
both felt immediately upon walking through the city, a slow, magical, eerie
kind of energy. We couldn’t really figure it out but it was explained later
that as the historical part of the city is located on a small island, it has
water flowing under it, and hence carries this type of ‘watery’ energy. Maybe
that sounds like fluff but there’s also a freshwater spring located on this
tiny island; apparently something that doesn’t usually happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However the city was really beautiful and of
course, we were on the way to the sea. In this case, the closest place wasn’t a
sandy beach, but instead a platform connected to the historic center, leading to
rocky entrances into the water. </div>
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That night, we sat down to a late dinner at a place
recommended by the hostel owner. As this recommendation was accompanied by
almost a half an hour of swooning about a specific seafood pasta dish, Alex was
convinced to try it. After a few bites, she reported, well I’m disappointed,
after all that poetry that’s not at all what I was expecting. It’s pasta with
olive oil and mussels, I don’t get Italian food! As she’s used to the strong
flavors and abundance of garlic used in Bulgarian cuisine, authentic Italian
food (which is often super simple) was a bit under-stimulating. I couldn’t help
but laugh later on when, upon his questioning, she tried to explain to the chef
what she thought of Italian food. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFA4gI4-k_i76bZfZaBiRNoZgrvcblakGcoNwylQUr9D9q40S6QvI5QCopwmPLarQ9F8boZJvag-4xSIG7w46nWsHid23kSt1ttLlhp1ETLHc-b3oxNlUa2-jV9VzSZlYGk_15aLj5PMx/s1600/IMG_0174.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFA4gI4-k_i76bZfZaBiRNoZgrvcblakGcoNwylQUr9D9q40S6QvI5QCopwmPLarQ9F8boZJvag-4xSIG7w46nWsHid23kSt1ttLlhp1ETLHc-b3oxNlUa2-jV9VzSZlYGk_15aLj5PMx/s320/IMG_0174.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We were the last people to finish eating that night and when
the chef’s friend showed up, they invited to take us to a club. Our most
important question being, was there dancing? The answer was yes so off we went.
The place was totally empty, but Alex busted out some of her samba moves and I
followed along (she’d been teaching me how to samba in Toronto before I left
for Italy in 2010). The chef was flashing cash around in an effort to impress
Alex, and after a bit of special treatment from the club owners and a trip to
the bathroom with his friend, we exchanged the idea that this guy wasn’t just
dealing in the food industry if you know what I mean. He confirmed this
personally later on. Don’t worry mom, we got ourselves home safe and sound
after that.</div>
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On day 4 we were thrilled to get some wheels of our own from
a bicycle rental shop, and carted them on the train with us to Noto, a small
town to the south of Siracusa. It was a super hot day and we sweated out
everything we had, riding up the roads of the hilly town to the B & B we’d
reserved. After a little freshening up, the owner, Davide, gave us directions
to the beach. He told us it’d take about 20 minutes on the bikes. </div>
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So we started out but it wasn’t long before we were in doubt
over which street to take, so we stopped to ask directions beneath the blazing
sun. </div>
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We repeated this two more times before finally arriving at the beach, at
least 45 minutes later, completely exhausted and overheated. We were so
relieved to finally plunge ourselves into the sea. We were at a quiet spot
where the water was immaculate and clear. We agreed to relax and enjoy
ourselves completely before even starting to think how we were going to make it
back to the B & B.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had covered a
fair amount of hills on the way there, most of them downhill. So that meant the
way back would mostly be…yes, uphill. </div>
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After a few hours we asked around about a bus back to the
town and were informed of the time and place. As for the bikes, our source said
that there was plenty of room underneath as it was a coach style bus. Perfect.
We enjoyed a bit more time at the sea and ate the freshest and sweetest melon
ever, instigating envious gazes from people walking by. Back at the bus stop, a
large crowd gathered, and finally a bus showed up, but was it the right bus? It
was like a mini school bus….. We watched the people pile in and I asked the bus
driver who confirmed it was the last bus back to Noto. I asked if there was
room for the bikes and he gestured to the crammed cabin…clearly not.</div>
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Alex and I weighed our options, but in the end, it was best
to suck it up and start the ride. At least the sun wasn’t blazing as hard as
before. The people on the bus stared at us sympathetically through the window
as it rolled by, and we pedaled our hearts out, feeling like champions when we
finally pulled up into the main piazza. Funny enough, the bus was unloading at
the same moment we pulled up. Thorough showers were needed before dinner and
despite an invitation to go out with Davide, we called it a night super early.</div>
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The next day we were back to Siracusa to return the bikes
and went for another quick dip from the city platform before getting on the bus
to head home to Palermo. The next few days were a more relaxed pace,
sight-seeing in Palermo and riding to Mondello (the beach) with Al and FINALLY
getting a whole day of sunshine. It’s funny how sometimes you go searching for
the thing you have right at home. </div>
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It was an awesome trip and I was happy to be saying to Alex,
see you in a few weeks! as I’d soon be passing through Toronto on my way to
Alberta. I was working hard core after that for the next couple weeks, and
despite my best efforts to stay balanced, the stress was getting to me and
starting to instigate some of my old health issues. On my breaks sometimes I
went for a walk with my skateboarding friend, Lucio, who had just had ankle
surgery and needed to get in his daily exercise. It was nice to have company
although neither of us were feeling particularly positive:S On Ferragosto, the
infamous Italian holiday on Aug 15, we jetted down to Mondello on his vespa to
watch the fireworks. </div>
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I finished the project less than a week prior to my
departure to Canada and was so relieved. After staying up most of the night to
rename over 1200 files by hand and sending it all off along with the invoice, I
went straight to the beach and soaked up some sea and sun to recharge before
catching up with Al in the Vucceria that evening, as he had just gotten back
from a trip home to the uk. </div>
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The next day I was set on going to the Conca D’Oro, the
newest mall located on the outskirts of Palermo to scope out some birthday
presents for my sisters. The website listed the hours for the shuttle bus to
and from the center, and I set out to catch the one at 4:35pm, although it
never showed up. I asked a city bus worker about it and he instructed me on how
to get there with city transit. Over an hour later I finally arrived, and
cruised through the stores, focusing on my mission, but didn’t come across
anything I was looking for. I continued to browse until it was getting close to
the departure of the final shuttle bus, and went to the info desk to find out
where to catch it. </div>
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However, the lady told me the last shuttle bus had already
left. I referred to the poster with the bus times posted all over the mall, and
she told me that on Saturday they ended early. She said she could call another
shuttle service for me if I needed, but I told her I’d see if I could get the
city bus first. I waited at the stop with a number of other people for a good
45 minutes before I gave up and went back to the info desk. But the lady had
finished work. Luckily I had internet access on my phone and found the number
for the shuttle service she was talking about. I called, but they said the
earliest they could come was 11pm. It was currently 9pm. </div>
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I reluctantly pulled up the number for a taxi company,
knowing it wouldn’t be cheap as we were a fair ways out of the center. Thinking
of what else I could do…I decided to send my friend, Salvo, a text message, as
I knew he lived nearby. It wasn’t long before he pulled up in his 1970’s purple
volkswagon van and the rest of the night was a spontaneous adventure. </div>
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First we went to Mondello for some gelato and crashed the
dance floor at a beach-side bar before going for a swim and hanging out by the
water. We went for a walk, dancing to the various music blaring from the
beach-side venues along the way and then jumped back in his van, heading to the
Vucceria for a cheap cocktail and cheap cocktail-induced dancing. It was funny
because while I was working on the storyboarding project and forced to stay
seated in my computer chair, I was wishing to release all the energy that was
building inside of me with some chaotic dancing when I was done, and at a certain
moment, I think when my cocktail was accidentally slapped out of my hand and I
didn’t care, I realized I got my wish<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span></span></div>
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The last week of August, the waves finally arrived and I was
lucky enough to go surfing two days in a row. Marco was in Columbia so it was
just Carla and I. The first day the waves were too big and the second day, too
small, but we had a great time and some decent rides nonetheless. Two days
later, I was off to Canada and the rash on my knees from the surf board stayed
with me for the first couple weeks of the trip, making me smile whenever I
caught sight of it. </div>
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There was no time in Toronto for jet lag despite a 24 hour
journey preceded by a sleepless night. It was September long weekend and I
basically hit the ground partying. Deanna, a friend from college who was
visiting from San Francisco, and I were both guests at Alex’s apartment. It
also happened to be Deanna’s 30<sup>th</sup> birthday. Her birthday night started as a normal night dancing in a club, but turned into a crazy night with a female midget and a party bus. We saw both the Saturday
and Sunday morning sunrise, but we caught up on sleep in between as well as biked
through the city and ate some good food. During the week I was able to get down
to a bit of business involving a meeting for a project and catching up with a
number of friends. </div>
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Back to the airport to go west to Alberta, I was greeted by
my mamma in the airport who drove me back home to Drumheller and caught me up
on everything while I marveled at the sunset over the prairies. I had a few
days of rest and visits with my sisters, dad, and grandparents before it was
time to party again, this time with the girls for my sister Amy’s stagette! We
had a blast between all the events planned, including cruising in the limo and
tearing up the dance floor. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">With my sisters </span></div>
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Back in Drumheller I kept busy going for hikes, shooting
hoops, going to my friend Kelly’s dance classes and to my mom’s zumba class. I
spent the weekend in Calgary at Amy’s, hanging out and going out dancing. I
celebrated my 29<sup>th</sup> birthday twice, first with the family the day
before and then with Kelly in Calgary. Two days later it was wedding weekend
and all of Amy’s planning over the past many months fell together. The big day
was accompanied by the sun, perfect for the outdoor ceremony and Amy and Darryl
looked beyond happy as it all became official. At the reception, my favorite
part was when Darryl charged Amy like a bull for the garter toss. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">On my birthday with Kelly </span></div>
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There were many familiar faces including my friend, Cass,
hired as the makeup artist, and my old school friend, Sara, the florist. I was
also able to see my friend, Jill, in from Vancouver for a wedding that same weekend
for a quick brunch and big hugs, the day after the wedding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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My last week in Alberta, I helped my sis Laura paint flowers in her
soon to be baby’s room, went with my sis Alison to a yoga class, and helped my mom
clean out some kitchen cupboards in anticipation of her renos. As it always
does, the time flew by and I had to say my goodbyes, for the first time not
knowing the next time I’d be home. There was snow on the sides of the road on
the way to the airport and my mom reported to me afterwards that shortly after
my plane had taken off there was a storm. I guess I left at the right time.</div>
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Back to Toronto on an early flight, I made it downtown in
time for my friend’s hip hop class and then hung out with my fellow surf-loving
friend, Olga. The next day I caught up with Firas over lunch and dropped in at
an animation studio where I used to work to say hi and remind them I’m still
alive should they need freelance work without the requirement of residency papers…. </div>
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Another project meeting, a few more familiar faces, a day on
Toronto island and the sale of my paintings in exchange for a wetsuit (that
maybe sounds weird, long story), and it was the weekend again. </div>
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Friday night salsa and saturday night I filled in for a
friend of Alex’s to dance with her at a club on the mini side stages, for which we each earned 150$. It
was perfect as I needed to pay 75$ in access baggage the next day at the
airport. Alex and her boyfriend dropped me off and I gave her a big hug and
thanked her for all the hospitality. Now that she’s seen my home in Italy, she
understands why I like it so much. </div>
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Despite having 2 chairs to spread out on on the plane, I
wasn’t able to sleep and showed up in Palermo rather disoriented. However upon
seeing the sea outside of the airport doors and breathing in the moist air, I
was snapped out of it and was smiling. The bus driver inquired what was in my
oversize luggage bag and I told him it was a snowboard. He asked where I was
planning to use it as there wasn’t any snow. I told him I know people who
snowboard on Mount Etna (a volcano near Catania) in the winter, and he smiled
and shook his head saying again that there wasn’t any snow. Apparently it isn’t
common knowledge. Anyway, I’m looking forward to seeing it for myself. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The view of the sea from the airport terrace </span></div>
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Al met me at the bus stop and helped me cart the now ripped
up snowboard bag to my house while I wheeled my big suitcase. I got a bit
freshened up and we went for a coffee to catch up before he had to go into
work. Back at the house, Marco showed up after work and we caught up for a bit,
but I reached a point where I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore and had to
crash. </div>
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My sleep pattern remains to be wacky but I made it for
Tuesday night skateboarding with my friend, Claudia, where I brought everyone
chocolate loonies and ‘the source’ stickers with the Canadian flag on them. One
of the guys informed me of waves the next day so Marco and I made it out for a
couple hours of surfing. The waves were the perfect size this time and we had
some nice rides.</div>
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It’s still hot enough out to surf without a wetsuit and
there are still many people suntanning on the shore, but I’m looking forward to
when a little extra insulation is necessary because my new wetsuit makes me
feel like a superhero<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMPTSb0RiSwrLpi8qIHn37yq8gMkMejg8qBLrKSBdC_PJP9hgL6PiTCbvpOBBAm9jISQ2FzW7Ts8OMYqeDd0IjSULB8ysalbxuOOlKg-OCln2tfoImGThMd-kqj3RFy_X6FKQgc11Eclx/s1600/487147_10151147356963417_1156513420_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijvgkIHOU6hofEI57923M_JFCqjSu6D50gTuxON1TKjpewEurb1gnD3jNbUPVVPiv2SSwjlS_JA7wzA2IQUtL5MunvHF0yD5Mk1_leevZUGUOVPmjf3JmhZlbnDPP_WmbtNBtHj2eITEpV/s1600/IMG_7444.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijvgkIHOU6hofEI57923M_JFCqjSu6D50gTuxON1TKjpewEurb1gnD3jNbUPVVPiv2SSwjlS_JA7wzA2IQUtL5MunvHF0yD5Mk1_leevZUGUOVPmjf3JmhZlbnDPP_WmbtNBtHj2eITEpV/s320/IMG_7444.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-80601707716893626232012-05-09T02:11:00.004-07:002012-05-09T02:52:47.370-07:00Allora.... (Well....)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF1CGIDIMxCErsuiyblclhU_zU8MKE_terd5j5mh68Jnl-6ZMIJGnJ7nSKp_st8_qUpUjYs6QI3f8IBDtj68YI1MEzVaUtRWfrIa2HzvTx3lCn5lbLPGPN1URh38xKL1vOulg6BXmX4Jxs/s1600/DSC03100.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="80" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF1CGIDIMxCErsuiyblclhU_zU8MKE_terd5j5mh68Jnl-6ZMIJGnJ7nSKp_st8_qUpUjYs6QI3f8IBDtj68YI1MEzVaUtRWfrIa2HzvTx3lCn5lbLPGPN1URh38xKL1vOulg6BXmX4Jxs/s320/DSC03100.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It seems I’ve got a lot of catching up to do! </div>
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After the last blog post I started working for the English
school, and got busy. I managed to get through my first lessons despite feeling
super overwhelmed and thank god I had a little break right away as I was off to
Florence to deal with my luggage. I had already started apartment hunting for March
before leaving and had looked at a handful of places that first week of February,
none of which I was interested in (one place had 6 girls and one bathroom…
disastrous!!!). Then I looked at 2 more apartments the morning before I caught
my flight to Pisa, both of which I liked! </div>
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One was in an older and rougher area of town, close to the
port, and with an amazing view of rooftops from the balcony of the room I
would’ve chosen. The apartment was older and a little grimy, but spacious, with
only one other bedroom that wasn’t yet rented. The biggest drawback was the
price, especially without a roommate right away I’d be covering all the bills
myself. </div>
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The second place was in a great area, the neighborhood I’d
originally set my sights on, and was being completely renovated. Out of the 4
rooms, one was already spoken for, by a girl living next door, so I expressed
my interest in the other room sharing the balcony. By the end of my plane ride,
I realized that I needed to lock it down so I called the woman that evening to
confirm. After seeing many apartments, I knew I was lucky to find this one and
it had everything I was looking for, as well as permission to apply for
residency. </div>
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Upon arriving in Pisa, I was invited to eat lunch at
Giuseppe’s sister’s Veronica’s place, very close to the airport. She made a delicious squash risotto and we
had a good visit before I was on the train to Florence. Between the stress of pulling
off my first lessons and carrying my bag around all day full of dirty laundry
that I was taking to wash at Giuseppe’s , as well as my computer which I brought in
order to finish off <a href="http://www.jennierutz.com/projects/more-than-a-pretty-face/">illustrations</a> (click the link to view them) for a e-book on natural beauty care (by
Caroline Cain, check it out for sale <a href="http://www.carolinecain.dk/ebook/more-than-a-pretty-face/">here</a>), I arrived in Florence with an old familiar
tension headache, stemming from my neck and back muscles which even my tennis
balls couldn’t quite relieve (haha to those of you who know this trick of
mine!). </div>
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Giuseppe helped me get all of my straggling luggage packed
up and labeled and the next day while he was at work I sent it off with the
courier. Before I knew it, it was Sunday morning and we were up early for me to
catch the train back to the Pisa airport. It was a dramatic and movie worthy
goodbye from the train window, as we had accepted that from that point on, we
wouldn’t be in contact, at least for awhile.</div>
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Back in Palermo I had started up salsa classes at the gym in
Arenella, the neighborhood where I was living with the nuns. Although no one
usually talked to me, including the guy who was usually my partner haha, I
enjoyed the twice a week lessons, even when I arrived late after finishing work
and waiting for the bus for an hour (even though the schedule says the buses
are every 20 minutes!). </div>
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After a lesson one day, the teacher, Giovanni, announced a
salsa event on the weekend and I asked him where it was. After confirming it
was a fair distance away, I let the idea go, but then at the beginning of the
next class, he announced ‘You go with him!’ pointing to another student. I don’t know why he wanted to tell me in
English but he said ‘He knows where you live’ pointing to the guy again. So I
asked the guy in Italian if he knew where I lived and he said no. I think he
meant for me to tell him where I lived haha! Anyway, in the end it all worked
out, I got to go with the group of salsa students from the gym to a salsa
convention at a hotel about a half an hour drive away, and after that, back at
class, they were all very friendly to me<span style="font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Wingdings;"> </span>
</div>
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I started to feel a little worried as February was passing
and despite giving verbal confirmation, I hadn’t given a deposit to the lady
for the apartment. Finally, one week before the end of the month, we were able
to meet at the apartment again and she showed me the newest updates to the
renovations. There was just one problem, she said…uh oh. </div>
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Her son, Marco, was returning to Palermo from Tuscany and so
he’d be taking the room with the balcony. What!!??? I was in shock. There were two other rooms
available but they didn’t interest me, even if the house was all new and
pretty, BALCONY was at the top of my list. I expressed my extreme
disappointment but in the end still gave her the 200 Euro deposit. With one
week before I had to move out of the nun’s place, I knew I couldn’t handle the
stress of my work schedule combined with strenuous apartment hunting. </div>
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So I tried to suck it up but I didn’t sleep that night. The
vision of my upcoming months in Sicily was crushed! Maybe I’m a brat but
really, if I’m paying rent somewhere then I want a balcony!!! I wannaeeee!!</div>
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The next day I wrote down all the reasons why it was
important to me to have that room and prepared an ultimatum before I called the
signora. But I only got through the first point and a half on my list when she
caved and said that I could have the room, that she’d talked to her son and he
felt bad that I was so disappointed and insisted that it wasn’t an issue for
him. I understood then that it was actually her decision to give her son the
room, as we all know the Italian mommas (but of course not exclusively Italian
mommas;) want the very best for their children<span style="font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span></div>
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So in the end, it all worked out, and I slowly transferred
my luggage from Arenella, one piece at a time, with the free shuttle service
from the student housing, asking to be dropped off in a square on route to the
university. From there it was a 10-15 minute haul. The morning of my departure,
I left the nuns a drawing that I did of all of them, I hope they liked it. After
work that day, my fellow mother tongue teacher from England, Al, invited me for
a drink, and after the strongest cosmopolitan of my life (note: cocktails are
at least 3 times stronger in Italy due to free pour) I stumbled to my new home
with a smile. </div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYk-ydPLWW6gnx0-4H_U7_nkgoQ5WQTpt1dGzmCFzDmNQ-Ieq6BF1EvwJxyPrAqy-6oenNkv6zXgg0Gkl40rK6hBdGkb-RF3E21MJN0OyRqTNoX76qBgDgWWQpnG92rqwoCckOoO8c-5Je/s1600/DSC03104.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYk-ydPLWW6gnx0-4H_U7_nkgoQ5WQTpt1dGzmCFzDmNQ-Ieq6BF1EvwJxyPrAqy-6oenNkv6zXgg0Gkl40rK6hBdGkb-RF3E21MJN0OyRqTNoX76qBgDgWWQpnG92rqwoCckOoO8c-5Je/s320/DSC03104.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">this was the best quality my phone could mange</span> </div>
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However it didn’t last too long because upon arriving I
realized there were NO heaters in our apartment and I nearly froze that night. They used to not be necessary in Sicily I
guess, so many houses are without them. After that I requested extra blankets from
the Signora but, as in Arenella, I continued to bundle up in many layers every
night, including a toque!</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><object class="BLOGGER-picasa-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4p2b-6pcRzUB8x9fVG-2AS8kbVa5ooIMLNRCdCYksrPH5_3eCCDwjk53VDB0_ZY09csRorh620VRzfOsIi2UDT4AQQr60a4H519t4l2bbwvgOWgKodVkUA6MBXTfCWrCr4yEglQIWJayf/s1600/apt+tour_rot.mov" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fv3.nonxt3.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3Db3cc17188f275710%26itag%3D18%26source%3Dpicasa%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1336574915%26sparams%3Did%2Citag%2Csource%2Cip%2Cipbits%2Cexpire%26signature%3DA49C23275D46522EF26F846DBD2A4F661C224F6.15122B02F6D1AA62B4FF9F46B34EEA24AB9628B1%26key%3Dlh1" />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">My apartment tour </span></div>
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In late March I arranged some days off (thank god! I really
needed another break) and was back to the airport to head north again. This
time for the purpose of attending the International Children’s Book Fair in
Bologna. As all the hotels in Bologna were booked up, I decided to stay in
Florence and make the journey back and forth for the day I’d chosen to attend
the fair, which worked out great as I was able to catch up with a ton of
friends, including my friend Sally, who now lives in Rome, but was visiting
Florence that same weekend, as well as my old Italian tutor, Valentina. Martinho,
my cuz, was very kind to offer me his spare bedroom, although I never ended up
sleeping there…</div>
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To make a long story short(ish)…Within a few hours of
arriving in Florence, I went out to meet Sally at a pub in the center. Upon realizing that she’d lost her cell phone,
we went on a quest retracing her steps which led us across town to another
Irish Pub. Along the way I tried to give her a positive pep talk that maybe
something good would come out of the situation; she’d have to get in touch with
friends to get their numbers again, and seeing as she was looking for work in
Rome, maybe someone could help her. Yeah maybe, she said but then, justly, told
me to shove it; that she’d lost her cell phone and it sucked! We laughed and I
agreed. </div>
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Being that it was St. Patrick’s Day, the pub as well as the
Piazza out front, were flooded with people. After speaking with the bartender
and calling her phone number again, we found ourselves out front as Sally came
to terms with the situation that her phone was gone for good. A random guy
started talking and joking with her and my eyes started wandering around the
piazza, eventually landing on someone they recognized, a few meters ahead and with
his back to us.</div>
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It was Giuseppe’s
good friend, who happens to be very tall, Ezio. I could only guess who his hidden companion might be. I peeked around the crowd and my suspicion was confirmed. I froze
up and grabbed Sally’s arm, interrupting her conversation. “Now I know why you
lost your cell phone.” I said, and
turned her around. Her mouth dropped. </div>
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After a moment of hesitation, we approached them, and
thankfully, he was happy to see me too. We hugged and I had some tears, and
then we proceeded to catch each other up on what had happened during the past
month. So, needless to say, Sally losing
her cell phone changed my whole weekend, and I’m sorry that her expense was my
benefit, but in the end I think it made her feel better about it haha!</div>
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As for the book fair, despite my intentions to be on the
ball, I didn’t contact publishers soon enough to set up any meetings. So, I ended up doing the same as what I’d
done last year, making rounds between the booths, gathering information and
hoping to get lucky to show some people my book, which existed in only rough
sketches last year, but this year, was finished. I was able to briefly meet up with Brunella, the italian illustrator women with whom I went to the fair the year before. She had an armful of new books she'd done since I'd seen her last and I flipped through them all while she read mine. </div>
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Early on, I got super lucky to show 2 representatives of a British
publisher the book, and they really liked it! They had nothing but positive
feedback and made a suggestion on the size format which they thought would work
well, and I agreed. They said they’d like to present the book to their company
within the next month or so, and they’d let me know the outcome. I left them a
copy of the book and my information, but in my excitement, I forgot to ask
theirs. I haven’t heard anything back yet but I’m still keeping my fingers
crossed. There were a few other prospects but nothing as promising. Otherwise,
I took a ton of submission information where I can email the book for
consideration from other publishers. </div>
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While making my rounds, I passed by Candlewick Press, which
I recognized as my friend from college had published a book with them and was
getting huge recognition for his work, including making the New York Time’s top
ten children’s books of 2011! I stopped at the desk to get their submission
information, and while I was waiting for the woman, I glanced at a headline on
their newsletter; a headline bearing the name of my famous friend, Jon Klassen
and another word, Bologna.</div>
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I asked the lady if
Jon was there in Bologna and she said yes, that he had been at the booth a few
minutes ago and had gone to the café! Super excited, I left my name and number
to pass on to him if I wasn’t able to track him down myself. I didn’t have any luck finding him at the
café but within an hour or so I returned to the booth and sure enough, there he
was. We hadn’t seen each other in 4 years or so, as he had moved to the US to
work for Dreamworks and other companies, so it was super awesome and unexpected
to see him across the world, by chance! </div>
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We hugged and chatted and he showed me the fresh-off-
the-press test copy of his new book, which was beautiful and had me laughing
with tears. I showed him my book too and he had a good laugh of his own. Being
Candlewick’s VIP he was being whisked off to some important event right away
but we made plans to meet up in the center of Bologna the following day, as he
had the morning off from obligatory duties and I was planning to do some
sightseeing before catching my flight back to Palermo from the Bologna airport.
</div>
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So it worked out great, we had a leisurely tea and recounted
our histories from when we’d seen each other last. He was now married and doing
freelance illustration and animation work from his home in LA while meanwhile I
had quit the animation industry, moved to Italy, and was currently teaching
english. </div>
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For the rest of the afternoon, I wandered around Bologna and
found myself disappointed after visiting the Modern Art Museum. However,
the feeling was redeemed after going to a free Andy Warhol exhibit in a super
hip hair salon! I found a nice park to eat lunch in and did a bit of shopping
before it was time to head to the airport. </div>
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Back in Palermo, I’d chosen a new gym to continue my salsa
lessons in, after doing a few free trials at various places. As well, at one of
the gyms, I’d done a trial lesson of bellydancing just for fun and seeing that
it was also free, but I really liked the teacher so I decided to continue. So,
that means that I’ve been doing dance lessons 4 times a week; 2 salsa and 2
bellydancing. This keeps me smiling<span style="font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span>
As well, the salsa group often goes out dancing Thursday or Friday night, so
that adds to my fix. </div>
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One weekend when his friend,Ombretta,was visiting from Rome, Marco
invited me to come along for a tour of Palermo’s markets in the historic
center. We shared some arancini, a Sicilian creation of rice, shaped into a
ball with a center of either meat or cheese and a deep fried crust, and a
Sicilian wine called Zibibbo, as we passed through the market neighborhoods of Capo, Vucciria and
Ballero`.Later on we went to eat lunch at a cheap but delicious restaurant, where
I ate squid and artichokes. Then we passed though the botanical gardens and marina
before hitting up a special destination for canolli, the Sicilian dessert with
a tube shaped crust, and stuffed with sweet ricotta. </div>
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Another weekend, we hosted a dinner at our house, the guests
being Marco’s brother, Francesco and his girlfriend, Catia, Marco’s sister,
Cristina and her boyfriend, Massimo, as
well as Marco’s friend, Cosimo and Desiree’s boyfriend, Gaspare. Despite preparing
my contribution, dessert, (a fig and pear square with almond crust) that
morning, I missed out on all the pre-dinner action as I was at work all
afternoon and then at my dance class, returning just in time for the primo
piatto, first course, of pasta. Marco and Desiree` did a fantastic job with all
the preparation, and as I was back to work in the morning, they also did a
fantastic job on cleanup duty!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXxGmlynVBQch369P1tPXDHknzEQ60Gy-6swvKuFvTn1XB0tDTWBsKkYiGD5idHV46g6M3hlx8SpawF1fMyJK7IADzBWckZpW-PmfdKSXzuTY6GUYX4WF9232uXEL_6EqSVNe2mGDHuIC/s1600/535688_3854106516575_1395664864_3582463_1602781734_a.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXxGmlynVBQch369P1tPXDHknzEQ60Gy-6swvKuFvTn1XB0tDTWBsKkYiGD5idHV46g6M3hlx8SpawF1fMyJK7IADzBWckZpW-PmfdKSXzuTY6GUYX4WF9232uXEL_6EqSVNe2mGDHuIC/s1600/535688_3854106516575_1395664864_3582463_1602781734_a.jpg" /></a></div>
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That sunday I was invited to a wine canteen an hour or so
out of Palermo, with Marco, Francesco, and Cosimo, for wine tasting and of
course, the accompaniment of food. After
lots of waiting, the Sicilian way, we were able to dive in. I paced myself on
the wine while trying (unsuccessfully) to discreetly incorporate my piece of
gluten free bread to my plate of olives, sausage, caponata (a delicious tomato
and eggplant combination), and cheese. We ate and drank and joked the afternoon away.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAY74hW4o5O9S0ZtqoC__lMTpNBzbs6dLxxXUJAjDckv4XmWQ4HEi-CydT7_LoSlLLXNYdKpalZXb-xEglxBeotalr5WHo9kgxXqV83qPtfrmWV8H0-9AzmL-Vs1t1jg4RUYQJU3dssaSS/s1600/DSC03212.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAY74hW4o5O9S0ZtqoC__lMTpNBzbs6dLxxXUJAjDckv4XmWQ4HEi-CydT7_LoSlLLXNYdKpalZXb-xEglxBeotalr5WHo9kgxXqV83qPtfrmWV8H0-9AzmL-Vs1t1jg4RUYQJU3dssaSS/s320/DSC03212.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div>
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Desiree` and I have become good friends and one evening she
invited me out with her friends to a bar in the center, but usually we hang out
together at home. She enjoys explaining many things to me about Italian;
vocabulary as well as cultural things, and it’s been a big help to me. It’s
been quite difficult adjusting, not just to the Sicilian accent, but also to
the different way of saying things and the different vocabulary used. Although
the people I’m around don’t speak in dialect, there are a number of Sicilian
and Palermitano dialect words that are often incorporated to everyday speaking.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrPEnlly6FOblO7UM5RGq75C_uKgvjwlmfzNaUgIhrA6G63Eb4iqPlPRviEWdSAcAF5YCnOYZrvuUKlJzf9XlBzBZI-U13d_UefIYjgw-kWfBQ2SpB021ZCYRjDwYHvz0hguHd5j49KBK/s1600/534438_3632933311358_1514919088_33185650_720420744_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrPEnlly6FOblO7UM5RGq75C_uKgvjwlmfzNaUgIhrA6G63Eb4iqPlPRviEWdSAcAF5YCnOYZrvuUKlJzf9XlBzBZI-U13d_UefIYjgw-kWfBQ2SpB021ZCYRjDwYHvz0hguHd5j49KBK/s320/534438_3632933311358_1514919088_33185650_720420744_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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As she had been
tested for food allergies some time ago, Desiree` has been trying to eliminate
the culprits of digestive discomfort, and as such we’ve been sharing many
gluten free creations<span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>
Hers are always beautiful and are perfected with every successive attempt while
mine tend to be random and one-offs, sometimes yummy and sometimes only
palatable for me. </div>
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On Easter weekend I was back to the airport! This time to
Milan, a place I’d never been. One of my best friends from high school who I’d
reconnected with during my recent time back in Canada, Kelly, was coming to
Berlin with her boyfriend and we had discussed a side trip for her to come and
visit me. Being Easter weekend and a bit last minute, the prices of tickets
from Berlin to Palermo were extremely expensive, so we came up with another
plan, to meet in Milan. Apparently no one was going there for Easter as the
prices were affordable. </div>
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Our flights arrived around the same time so we had big hugs
at the arrivals gate before finding the bus to the center and having the opportunity
to talk each other’s ears off. Upon
arriving at the station we set out to find the tourist information but instead
got distracted by stores along the way. Finally we scored some maps and advice
on what to see in the following days as well as instructions on how to arrive
at the hotel where I’d booked a room at. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">the view from the hotel window</span></div>
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Despite being a cheap, one-star hotel, we were pleasantly
surprised, also because the room I’d booked online said it had a shared bathroom but
instead, we had one of our own. We got settled and made a quick trip to the
grocery store (a necessity for me) before heading out for the evening. We
planned to go to an area where the guy at the tourist center had indicated we’d
find a good aperitivo (a cocktail and buffet for the price of a drink), but after
being dazzled by the beautiful displays in the windows of expensive designer
stores, total heaven for Kelly, we realized we’d gone to a different district that
the guy circled on the map, as we’d also inquired about shopping. </div>
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So we retraced out steps back to the main street, stopping
for a gelato to tide us over and we finally found a place, just in time before
the aperitivo ended. Although the place was almost empty, the food was good and
we were relieved to sit down after loads of walking. </div>
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The next day we set out for an outdoor market area which the
tourist attendant had also circled on our map. It was like a marathon, it kept
going and going, and Kelly was winning, snapping up some good deals. We found a
place open for a late lunch and then stopped at a grocery store to stalk up on
edible souvenirs for Kelly to bring back to Germany and Canada, which, being
the day before Easter Sunday, was super chaotic. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
We dropped off all the purchases at the hotel and relaxed a
bit before getting ready for aperitivo attempt #2, this time, in the
appropriate neighborhood. We found a cute place which was also a bit on the
empty side but we were hungry. We each loaded up a tiny plate with the intention to go back for more, but before we had the chance, the aperitivo had
ended and the plates were whisked away. We finished our drinks and hit the
pavement in search of our next potential destination. We deliberated heading to one of Milan’s
famous clubs, but after reading about the 20-25 Euro cover charges, we decided to
seek an alternative. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After some wandering I stopped someone for directions to the
‘neighborhood where young people go’ (translated from Italian) and they
re-routed us. We scouted out the different bars, most of which were still quite
empty, and made a big loop before returning to a place which caught our
interest the most. No cover charge before 11pm, one floor with live music and
the other with a dj, perfect. We listened to a few songs by the 80’s cover band
before heading upstairs to check things out. We grabbed a cocktail and a spot
to sit and a short time later, we were chatted up by a guy sitting with his
friends at a nearby table. He had heard us speaking in English and I guess
wanted the opportunity to practice his, which of course was very amusing. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day before, as I was re-adjusting to speaking to her
normally in English (as opposed to the exaggerated English I speak when
teaching), I was explaining to Kelly how Italians always make an expression
that’s like an upside-down smile when they’re unsure or indifferent about
something. Then was telling her how they say ‘for example’ far too much, even
when they don’t follow with a true ‘example’ of something. So, this guy,
Federico, was explaining something to us and demonstrated these 2 italian characteristics
consecutively one after the other, which totally caught Kelly by surprise. When
he and his friends went out to smoke, she exploded in laughter. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that we hit the dance floor. We left before 1am to
catch the subway back to the hotel, but upon arriving at the metro station, it
was already closed! (due to easter weekend) So, thankfully we weren’t wearing
heels and managed to make a long trek on foot back to the hotel, plotting our
course to intersect the amazing duomo (cathedral) which is often sited as
Milan’s main landmark. It was amazing seeing it in the night, with the piazza
out front completely empty, it was all ours. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
The following day was easter Sunday but that didn’t mean the
stores at the train station were closed (we got distracted again on the way to
the metro)! Once we finally arrived underground we took the subway to Castello
Sforzesco, a castle with a huge park behind it. It was a decent day but
exceptionally windy. Upon confirming the opening hours of a restaurant which made
gluten free pizza across town, we had our sites set on our dinner destination.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUwaaONMwdO_8yMDFSh0xQrHLuP89XsUUtuqnRBhs4FW_Jo57MnABW__6ph_t7TcxX2XttyZZ2IHlC1S20m4m1lCxudYIfabxwkdvqQ6AlSpWz1M-mNmUEaLevlbD0-Gc2em9KQRGKwWe/s1600/DSC03179.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUwaaONMwdO_8yMDFSh0xQrHLuP89XsUUtuqnRBhs4FW_Jo57MnABW__6ph_t7TcxX2XttyZZ2IHlC1S20m4m1lCxudYIfabxwkdvqQ6AlSpWz1M-mNmUEaLevlbD0-Gc2em9KQRGKwWe/s320/DSC03179.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
We headed in it’s direction, stopping first to see the duomo
again in daylight, then at a café, then for gelato, and then for some sun and
lots of laughing on a bench sheltered from the wind. We were the first
customers at the restaurant, as Italians eat dinner notoriously late, but later
on, despite being easter, the place filled up. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
My artichoke and ham pizza was great (although not quite at
good as pizzaman in Florence) and Kelly enjoyed hers as well, but was too
stuffed to finish the second half. We asked for the rest to go, but somehow
forgot about it and were well on our way back to the hotel when it struck me.
It’s funny that I was more sad about it than her! Also because it was a bit on
the expensive side, and she’d been so nice to treat me to dinner<span style="font-family: Wingdings;">:)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings;"></span><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8GQ4sjoMmlNenQru2vJxG3I3w8SNPQ-UCaAjVQIAf9p0XmpL_hTNncf5ASW2-sx4LbLA0tKTUAPY2AeI-Rhl7hxMGznsBvIrbt_XRDjeKP89SmIUXKGHBnH9sdZaRMlGUzU8s8eoANLzJ/s1600/DSC03187.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8GQ4sjoMmlNenQru2vJxG3I3w8SNPQ-UCaAjVQIAf9p0XmpL_hTNncf5ASW2-sx4LbLA0tKTUAPY2AeI-Rhl7hxMGznsBvIrbt_XRDjeKP89SmIUXKGHBnH9sdZaRMlGUzU8s8eoANLzJ/s320/DSC03187.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">ready to dig in</span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back at the hotel, we drank Sicilian wine while preparing
our luggage for departure. Somehow, Kelly managed to fit in all her new
purchases into her tiny little carry on. She had brought me some clothes I was
desperate for from Drumheller, so to her benefit, she had the extra space
available but it was still a miracle. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
At 4:30am we walked groggily to the bus at the train
station, where we gave big hugs and said goodbye. Perhaps we’d meet again in
Milan in the future, or maybe next time in New York, where she’ll hopefully be studying
fashion design in the fall. So Kelly was off to the airport to catch her early
flight and I headed back to the hotel to sleep for a few more hours before
heading to the airport to catch mine. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The following week in Palermo, a band from Milan called
Dente, was playing a concert. I was super excited as they happen to be my
favorite Italian band and I studied many of their song lyrics to help me learn
Italian. I think I told everyone I knew in Palermo about the concert. The day
before I bought 2 tickets for Marco and I, at a box office near my house, and
they said that there were still over a hundred tickets available so I thought
it’d all be fine. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But upon arriving at the venue that night, first of all,
shockingly, they had started on time (this never happens in Italy) which meant
I was LATE!!! And second of all, the tickets were sold out so the people who
I’d invited and actually came, couldn’t get in! I felt really bad:S But once I
made it inside and heard some of my favorite songs, I felt a little better, and
then shortly after, 2 of my coworkers, Al and Tiziana, who had their name on
the waiting list, were able to get in. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Dente means tooth in italian</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another great concert I saw 2 weeks ago, was by 2 girls from
Palermo called Iotatola. Despite being unimpressed by Dente, Tiziana still had
some faith in my music taste and invited me. They were super talented and
sassy, a good combination. After the concert, I said goodbye to Tiziana and her
friends and headed for the main street where I’d left my bike. However, as I
got closer and closer to the post where I distinctly recalled locking it up, it
hit me. Not there was my bike. Or in correct English: my bike wasn’t there!!!!!
Crap. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Iotatola</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d bought this used bike early on in March for 50 euro. A
new bike was over 100 euro so I figured this was the way to go. Then I bought a
lock, the biggest one available as I’d been warned repeatedly about the
occurrence of bike theft in the city. However, then after further advice, I
ended up hauling the bike up to my apartment every night, because leaving it
outside, even if locked up securely would likely result in a stolen basket,
wheels, ect. This has been rather uncomfortable in the tiny elevator, turning
the bike vertically and then angling it ever so precisely in order to close the
doors, I had a number of bruises on my legs the first couple weeks, but it was worth
keeping my baby safe on the balcony overnight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, I bought the lock
for 15 euro, a basket 5 euro, 2 new tire
covers (as the existing ones were too large and scraping the wheel guards) 12
euro, and lastly, after it broke, I had one brake fixed for 3 euro. That comes
to a total of 85 Euro. A week later after fixing the brake, it was gone. I
don’t know how they busted that lock. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Upon realizing that my bike wasn't there, I called Tiziana
and reported “Mi hanno rubato la bici!!!” (They stole my bike!) Who THEY are
exactly I don’t know, but THEY are the ones I’d be warned about, no doubt.
Tiziana and her friend came to rescue me, and for a few a few days, I had to
live life without wheels again. NO GOOD! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked up some ads online for used bikes for sale and
called the ones that caught my eye. Tiziana had been urging me from the start
to buy a mountain bike with gears as it would be better for journeys to
Mondello (Palermo’s favorite beach) and other more distant destinations, but,
call me superficial, I was attached to the classic, girly looking bikes.
However, there was one mountain bike ad that seemed decent and was pink, so I
called it too. It was the first one that I was able to set up an appointment
for; the others weren’t available for a few days as it was a holiday long
weekend. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I made the appointment for before I had to go to work, but
unfortunately I arrived late as I didn’t really know the area, and as such was
in a bit of a panic. The bike was much uglier than the picture, as it wasn’t
just pink but also green, but it was in
good shape and the guy talked far too much about technical things that I
didn’t care about , but seemed to verify the good condition it was in. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Also aware of the fact that if I didn’t buy the bike I’d
more than likely arrive at work late, I handed over 70 Euro as that was the
lowest I could persuade him, and hit the road. By the time I arrived, I knew it
wasn’t the bike for me. Ugly and uncomfortable! A few days later I kept my
appointment with someone else selling a white, traditional style bike like the
one that got stolen, and I shelled out another 50 Euro. So, now I have two
bikes but will hopefully I can resell the first one:P</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To a north american, and even to a northern Italian, traffic
here is considered wild. People don’t like to follow the rules, including
sometimes one way streets and traffic signals, but the biggest difference is
that instead of being aware of signs and lights, people are more aware of each
other. It’s interesting the way the
traffic flows and people bud in or go out of turn without any cursing
following. If you show your intention, people respond and let you go, if you’re
unsure or take too long, that’s when the horns start blowing. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFS9mO8jjJuVU8KlJ5b5pYznSjV86Rbq0Nq1zBHrklQ8pQIx8KqxoTD1-I-9dsbtktKET1eOhyphenhyphenENZEbXV0qArL45r_-wRmd0BbzfPTHRwqh21sU7Z-wI5lBNruNcUMSKoCNLYPA94sBxI/s1600/DSC03124.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFS9mO8jjJuVU8KlJ5b5pYznSjV86Rbq0Nq1zBHrklQ8pQIx8KqxoTD1-I-9dsbtktKET1eOhyphenhyphenENZEbXV0qArL45r_-wRmd0BbzfPTHRwqh21sU7Z-wI5lBNruNcUMSKoCNLYPA94sBxI/s320/DSC03124.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">With Jola and Tiziana, my coworkers, and their friend, Claudio, the day of a community bicycle ride</span></div>
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The 25<sup>th</sup> of April is a holiday in Italy, known as
liberation day, the day when Italy was liberated from Nazi Germany in 1945.
This holiday is usually celebrated as other Italian holidays are celebrated,
with indulgent eating, but instead I had something else in mind and was able to
convince Marco to join me. SURFING!!! After a great deal of research I’d found
a surf school online, located at a beach nearby Palermo called Isola delle
Femmine. Although difficult to reach, I’d spoken back and forth a few times
with the guy, Danilo, and the day before he confirmed to me that the waves would be
arriving…</div>
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Although Marco had never been surfing before he was up for giving it a try, and was up on his feet on the first attempt! The only other time I’d be
surfing was in New York 3 years ago, where I too stood up on the board on my
first try (pat pat), but this time I didn’t make it. After getting a
feel for the teacher’s launch, the third time around I was up and had many good
rides after that. Now I’m pumped that Marco is also hooked, as it means that I
have a companion to do their base course with. I can’t wait to get out there
again, it’s complete paradise! After the hour lesson (I think it ended up being
longer) I was so exhausted though, once we got home I had to take a little nap. </div>
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As for work, it’s been an interesting challenge and I’ve
learned a lot. The initial work load due to lesson preparation outside of paid
hours was completely overwhelming and the continued demand to create original
activity type lessons has taken the wind out of my sails. Often, despite my
efforts, I either find myself under-prepared and have to improvise the second
half of a lesson for a group of 5-12 people or I’m over-prepared and my time
spent planning activities that we don’t have time for, goes to waste. No, time
management has never been my strength. </div>
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Sometimes I make an ass of myself but
have fun doing it, which also results in the students having fun, like my
Tae-bo lesson, so I’d say this is where I’m most successful. I’ve had the realization that I could do this job quite well
if I had the desire. But the truth is that I want to put my effort into the
place where I truly do have desire. That place being (surprise!) the ever
undependable, artland. So, I’ll be finishing with the school in June and from
there I'm planning to pay my rent by drawing caricatures for tourists on the
beach. Fingers crossed it'll work. </div>
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One evening I bore witness to an ugly general meeting which
had my head spinning. Was this normal in Italy? The owners were mad as they’d
made a fraction of the projected profit that month and were looking for someone
to blame. This included singling people out, including one of the new
receptionist/tutors, and interrogating them on how they can do their job
better. I think they only make 6 euro an hour…</div>
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After an hour and a half of arguing in Italian, I had completely
tuned out and was getting anxious looking at the clock, thinking how I was
going to be late for my salsa lesson. I
waited until I was ready to burst, and then discreetly asked my boss if I could
leave. Thankfully she said yes and I snuck out, leaving my poor colleagues to
endure the rest of it. After some further conversation with Italians, it was
confirmed that this type of meeting isn’t so out of the ordinary and I'm sorry to hear this. </div>
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Another day, due to absence of one of the other teachers, I
was asked last minute to go to the city of Marsala to teach a few lessons. I
accepted on the condition to be reimbursed for the bus fare, however one of the
lessons ended up being cancelled so I ended up taking the bus for 2 ½ hours
each way (that’s 5 hours total) to teach for only 2 hours! Despite lack of
tourism research or a map, I managed to find the school and tour around the
town, which was much more modern than I was expecting. I wandered the streets, found a beautiful
garden to eat lunch in and relaxed beside the sea. As well I ended up doing a
little shopping, quickly blowing my earnings for the day (26 Euro) and
more. </div>
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I’ve continued very few of the lessons private lessons I had
initially started, partly due to my unavailability with work and partly because
of my lack of desire to add more working hours to my schedule. With all this
English speaking and thinking, my Italian has been suffering. After giving
language lessons to others, I unfortunately feel like doing other things in my
spare time other than studying Italian. </div>
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Last weekend I rode by bike down to Arenella, my old
neighborhood, to sit on the beach and watch the
waves. I really miss being so close to the water and felt happy to visit the
neighborhood again as I hadn’t been back there since I moved. Next time I think
I’ll drop in on the nuns and say hi. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">the february trash mountain in Arenella </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">in front of the courthouse </span></div>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-37212771905778996552012-02-03T13:47:00.000-08:002012-02-04T11:56:28.395-08:00La Straniera di Palermo (The Foreign Girl in Palermo)<span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX2A3wRi_tYj5RFj6EosYrsYefopBkpLy7_iEGD6qQ5nGJrt-EskRpBQhTW5vcrhZCFJ8Q5Wz7Op8HnsjzX4_UsRfduAl6DWAWagaWl1HFErAscmOfdgnN69B2x-nMCqL3Qp1CxSj76C0f/s1600/DSC03070.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX2A3wRi_tYj5RFj6EosYrsYefopBkpLy7_iEGD6qQ5nGJrt-EskRpBQhTW5vcrhZCFJ8Q5Wz7Op8HnsjzX4_UsRfduAl6DWAWagaWl1HFErAscmOfdgnN69B2x-nMCqL3Qp1CxSj76C0f/s400/DSC03070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705058468911097378" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTu6Bypd0-p2jGsHDrtytCSA-5AMQLFjlXQQ0iDI8xxW7CCl4htXVw9T-sLbY6aWVKB9wY5Fhd-h0MGERuuqbuqE7f6NhngQ1maJfruhx1m2PCc90rkKzTlJIDC0GC-sofY8V93QX3XTxc/s1600/DSC03065.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTu6Bypd0-p2jGsHDrtytCSA-5AMQLFjlXQQ0iDI8xxW7CCl4htXVw9T-sLbY6aWVKB9wY5Fhd-h0MGERuuqbuqE7f6NhngQ1maJfruhx1m2PCc90rkKzTlJIDC0GC-sofY8V93QX3XTxc/s400/DSC03065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705058460107812834" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >It's been 3 weeks now since I arrived in Palermo, a city I'd never been to before deciding I would make it my home for the next 8 months. Many people ask me, confused, why??? And I explain that it was my intention after making the transition from Canada to Florence, to transition from North Italy to South Italy (2 different worlds in many people's minds) and satisfy my curiosity to experience the southern italian way of life. This curiosity was actually encouraged from many people's negative opinions about the south including the words ‘chaotic’, ‘lazy’, and ‘disorganized’. I couldn't help but be intrigued. Maybe this was where I belonged:)</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >In the months nearing my departure from Canada, I scrambled to line up a job in the south, as per my self-pledge that I couldn't afford to come back to italy without some guaranteed income. After sending out hundreds(?) of emails to english schools located in many different cities in the south (the only criteria being that they were located on the sea), one blown phone interview, and a nanny job that fell through, I decided I was going anyway(!) to my first choice city where, as luck would have it, rent is super cheap. While you need about 500 Euros a month to rent a room in the center of Florence, 150 Euro will do it in Palermo. Giuseppe guaranteed me that if I put up an ad offering private english lessons at 10 Euro/ hour, I wouldn't have any problem paying my rent. </span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >So with that, a few days after Christmas, I said goodbye to my family and friends and the life that I'm surprised to say that I settled into in Alberta (in the last 9 years, the longest period of time I spent in Alberta was 2 weeks, and I was usually pulling out my hair by the end). I’m pleased that I used the 5 months to make some progress in my artwork, as was my objective (although I didn’t quite complete as much as I’d set out to do...), including building my website <a href="http://www.jennierutz.com/">www.jennierutz.com</a> and finishing the <a href="http://www.jennierutz.com/projects">comic</a> that I started 3 years ago. As well, I had the opportunity to reconnect with some old friends and people from my past and spend lots of time with my sisters. Before I knew it, on Dec 28, I was on my return flight from Calgary to Florence (stopping in Montreal and Paris along the way).</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB2sbWgF67XTl4-cYqbEFhttmMkTb3DtYmR0AVnYWm_JkQFOs1oDD5DSsLkKdtm0gx2fO0QkR1_6eeDl_kww1UkCbC5j0qtAefOI5Kn0wd4XPJPnrgXUHTzpf1GjgEibjQAUfTiUzAJTzW/s1600/DSC02853.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB2sbWgF67XTl4-cYqbEFhttmMkTb3DtYmR0AVnYWm_JkQFOs1oDD5DSsLkKdtm0gx2fO0QkR1_6eeDl_kww1UkCbC5j0qtAefOI5Kn0wd4XPJPnrgXUHTzpf1GjgEibjQAUfTiUzAJTzW/s400/DSC02853.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705065415805418466" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNN-0tJvEXx9KXAfXw2OPnI6ihBtB2d-BGDvDikgZKWiLvGWd-KHZ88JT_tZQaEwsegj68-MilkI97BhPrB-nWwAq-kM8OXtPs72sZc6A8lZeOFcuuroi4U5ZtbHPeZIiYkkcOhpOBoCRq/s1600/DSC02797.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNN-0tJvEXx9KXAfXw2OPnI6ihBtB2d-BGDvDikgZKWiLvGWd-KHZ88JT_tZQaEwsegj68-MilkI97BhPrB-nWwAq-kM8OXtPs72sZc6A8lZeOFcuuroi4U5ZtbHPeZIiYkkcOhpOBoCRq/s400/DSC02797.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705065404770455170" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggXLyBE9v4-WD2vQgGngiGfSM1G3GNep_NcYSFDstpBR55eC0W5Uoj3MBEO9z0mwu74Rw-_BCaZr-Hfdi63KJguWvyATUxxUVPRp8ztTw1WCr7M3jAggtQcEdKsplqBFJfoFFJYD1IGE3j/s1600/DSC02795.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggXLyBE9v4-WD2vQgGngiGfSM1G3GNep_NcYSFDstpBR55eC0W5Uoj3MBEO9z0mwu74Rw-_BCaZr-Hfdi63KJguWvyATUxxUVPRp8ztTw1WCr7M3jAggtQcEdKsplqBFJfoFFJYD1IGE3j/s400/DSC02795.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705065389600518514" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27YsMSx9e8CFRtlm797oF0gF3bKO5tRTEes1kC9894nThk5H2nOy1bepdLJtxNvNB5CdNIoB-8H9EnM21hNFCjh1m3QH15SZfRTuTtXd6BlqedgF0CFjmpAUeZWEj9V0_hl2k3RO0mv4K/s1600/DSC02787.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27YsMSx9e8CFRtlm797oF0gF3bKO5tRTEes1kC9894nThk5H2nOy1bepdLJtxNvNB5CdNIoB-8H9EnM21hNFCjh1m3QH15SZfRTuTtXd6BlqedgF0CFjmpAUeZWEj9V0_hl2k3RO0mv4K/s400/DSC02787.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705065382945413298" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfcx9_3Lm3NAcO27NTOivylalWRrgtbr-jj3IFt0OLI2mRjWI8sJu0WvnXemQMWw5S6Ow4uYiqAdS36l7Z-mrvyuJ9m6wrjkMZN8-QzVsOSIcPFlRyFs6XYT0to0KcCjS5qQAr30oEPCT/s1600/photo.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfcx9_3Lm3NAcO27NTOivylalWRrgtbr-jj3IFt0OLI2mRjWI8sJu0WvnXemQMWw5S6Ow4uYiqAdS36l7Z-mrvyuJ9m6wrjkMZN8-QzVsOSIcPFlRyFs6XYT0to0KcCjS5qQAr30oEPCT/s400/photo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705066945871496722" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijC8ug0obhcJjuH0FlS3k9CFgY5ZeyzsgNrd44GJz8MKC74kSwUf-zk8DIRaXP4DSUQ4ft2zVECBmWcgzZ21bKkf4eiMutcCJUsf8vOARcH9qBsdArm0xhyXyC02Qssfmc_Xrcr3GZhBE/s1600/305108_10150953195430188_545390187_22020005_1775298242_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijC8ug0obhcJjuH0FlS3k9CFgY5ZeyzsgNrd44GJz8MKC74kSwUf-zk8DIRaXP4DSUQ4ft2zVECBmWcgzZ21bKkf4eiMutcCJUsf8vOARcH9qBsdArm0xhyXyC02Qssfmc_Xrcr3GZhBE/s400/305108_10150953195430188_545390187_22020005_1775298242_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705065408988704706" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >Giuseppe left me the key for his apartment tucked into the seat of his bicycle in the parking lot so I was able to let myself in, having the opportunity to eat, shower, and sleep before he came home from work. It was another happy reunion</span><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Arial; mso-hansi-font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial;mso-char-type:symbol; mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;font-size:100%;" ><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;" >:)</span></span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" > That evening we were back at our usual spot, Pizzaman, across the street, for gluten free pizza. In preparation for our New Year’s Eve dinner I was sent to the supermarket with a list of ingredients for some ‘traditional’ new years dishes. These included squid, lentils, and something called ‘cotecchino’ a prepared pork product, like some sort of sausage. I searched the whole meat department myself before asking for assistance, and once I did, the worker sent me to the poultry section. Confused, I asked the guy behind the meat counter and then I realized they thought I was saying ‘Tacchino’ which means turkey. Noooo, I clarified I wanted pork like ‘zampone’ a similar pork-sausagie-thing and he was kind enough to escort me to it’s proper home. Although we cooked too much food, our traditional dinner was a hit and from there we made it downtown in front of the train station just in time for the countdown. It was the same spot I was standing in the year before, with firecrackers going off in every direction amongst the crowds. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiu7B_bcuTqrpn43_ocgvPZqBQXeutwULBqNxFUeH9hsZyOadZPU7T8gB2WBjVMzNavdjzOevgYspw_VEscJJ-c2G4Z4wco3vyOH5soItW0ZIjE29CRSsRI-DCWMLSTrPVuoqxt24yKc-O/s1600/DSC02907.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiu7B_bcuTqrpn43_ocgvPZqBQXeutwULBqNxFUeH9hsZyOadZPU7T8gB2WBjVMzNavdjzOevgYspw_VEscJJ-c2G4Z4wco3vyOH5soItW0ZIjE29CRSsRI-DCWMLSTrPVuoqxt24yKc-O/s400/DSC02907.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705045818013675762" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTX3Fh1sekISgJMAvdm58XNIwYHfvGeAOi3paOBcsfnfNuG4vO__ZUHgv3_ecMgdT8VC-F5takYxoQpUEj61VLbkApJ3hwIMVKy6I0O1wK7suHmarNjX2ZySql7CqhukqFWTrmBqeBrzRK/s1600/DSC02914.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTX3Fh1sekISgJMAvdm58XNIwYHfvGeAOi3paOBcsfnfNuG4vO__ZUHgv3_ecMgdT8VC-F5takYxoQpUEj61VLbkApJ3hwIMVKy6I0O1wK7suHmarNjX2ZySql7CqhukqFWTrmBqeBrzRK/s400/DSC02914.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705045833823260322" border="0" /></a></span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >The following week we decided to take off for a few days and tour some Tuscan towns. We booked a hostel in Perugia as our home base and plotted our course. The towns we saw included Montereggioni, Assisi, Gubbio, and Spello. I had been to Assisi on my trip to Italy in high school and I remembered the big church.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipuNZT3uCtQJQ0etdNZDncd0POBOX5DoE_50mg2Y1gzn3O6ywiTOtpzjPxRZHUHk5v-V5r-A-yZx0f42YQJfJN5DV1VL9LKgJliuIT5eZL7MSQsDtL1IFv-mjXOJKJ9KQZWAABLpddO3PZ/s1600/DSC02939.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipuNZT3uCtQJQ0etdNZDncd0POBOX5DoE_50mg2Y1gzn3O6ywiTOtpzjPxRZHUHk5v-V5r-A-yZx0f42YQJfJN5DV1VL9LKgJliuIT5eZL7MSQsDtL1IFv-mjXOJKJ9KQZWAABLpddO3PZ/s400/DSC02939.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705045859449277282" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHVdzA2fCM4osTMSJQNgic4NVGTzHWTn6KL2J6LKKbGE5diB5CEE-ZYm9OvK8kuvbmuuAqetZ3PKl-_y3vmz_LWTz5Ri-nQ3MAM0VIaGe2w0O5WlzsNJH2KCNuIYGMxAGuHkZzuqFwqyE/s1600/DSC02966.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHVdzA2fCM4osTMSJQNgic4NVGTzHWTn6KL2J6LKKbGE5diB5CEE-ZYm9OvK8kuvbmuuAqetZ3PKl-_y3vmz_LWTz5Ri-nQ3MAM0VIaGe2w0O5WlzsNJH2KCNuIYGMxAGuHkZzuqFwqyE/s400/DSC02966.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705051003545367666" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZyHpvKZmIqp-tF2EEE1ns3vzIqOdQW5YhiLkI-3oP7GzBq4JwoRa5PYasme_9MXxVrfF_BOyrF4ef-j_HPzQEl9cMdMxnttK2LthqQgaCtkJZaJUcdTKK3xjWFpJK71plI2tN2Kh6rJK/s1600/DSC02971.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZyHpvKZmIqp-tF2EEE1ns3vzIqOdQW5YhiLkI-3oP7GzBq4JwoRa5PYasme_9MXxVrfF_BOyrF4ef-j_HPzQEl9cMdMxnttK2LthqQgaCtkJZaJUcdTKK3xjWFpJK71plI2tN2Kh6rJK/s400/DSC02971.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705051009647901970" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">A life size nativity scene in Gubbio<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlH2trwAohdBkwNfGPBpfDD43ZM03Q7fplsu6IwTcAMEC8FTUuvTCbOXBluxYskbYjktGpsZRFL_2godn_ulhRrb7C9-VRcH58VrrJmAcrNcQQNBObwXdSfQ9G7T_J51y6-yP7jYHipDs/s1600/DSC02958.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlH2trwAohdBkwNfGPBpfDD43ZM03Q7fplsu6IwTcAMEC8FTUuvTCbOXBluxYskbYjktGpsZRFL_2godn_ulhRrb7C9-VRcH58VrrJmAcrNcQQNBObwXdSfQ9G7T_J51y6-yP7jYHipDs/s400/DSC02958.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705050994028424850" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zIIXU9r0GaMpxMjDS_IU98JcKRIu7e3ED7DCRgRqLxq0cGyzomkOlJgWhVVOz-hSBKm6K_xNVy6urScjpphyphenhyphenmD0jQCf-zrSlMp2Q9fNIVMv8VIPPq-HelLZrd6cMEZIJjAlWNqrNjNvc/s1600/DSC02932.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zIIXU9r0GaMpxMjDS_IU98JcKRIu7e3ED7DCRgRqLxq0cGyzomkOlJgWhVVOz-hSBKm6K_xNVy6urScjpphyphenhyphenmD0jQCf-zrSlMp2Q9fNIVMv8VIPPq-HelLZrd6cMEZIJjAlWNqrNjNvc/s400/DSC02932.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705045851101508146" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pERuCXYfhOP9qVgHMry-A1a0xTyRxprrBryNS1jLh0AFzzvae3xWhTlQ5ENosdA70iL3j718GN4ZGDebIsj0_RXdp8gbJ93lD1Fg3QE6MmAfFHBETUrEfItK6q7cgwrQolIYp_5NSo_i/s1600/DSC02977.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pERuCXYfhOP9qVgHMry-A1a0xTyRxprrBryNS1jLh0AFzzvae3xWhTlQ5ENosdA70iL3j718GN4ZGDebIsj0_RXdp8gbJ93lD1Fg3QE6MmAfFHBETUrEfItK6q7cgwrQolIYp_5NSo_i/s400/DSC02977.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705051027060164434" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqn8zPs7ZUsYlbzfOILu7D7B9nxeicqOP87eO8kFgRouCtHY_e9pOlw_m63cYRueOXaGIQOwILKao0qHvcmEQsBqrbALFTD6o75g3VCgLas2RqPZ8dSJJcidw6Roq2t47TTlsUWNH5uKr6/s1600/DSC02947.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqn8zPs7ZUsYlbzfOILu7D7B9nxeicqOP87eO8kFgRouCtHY_e9pOlw_m63cYRueOXaGIQOwILKao0qHvcmEQsBqrbALFTD6o75g3VCgLas2RqPZ8dSJJcidw6Roq2t47TTlsUWNH5uKr6/s400/DSC02947.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705045876726070930" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >Back in Florence we had a night of salsa dancing with a group of Giuseppe’s friends were I put to use some of the moves I’d learned from my salsa teacher in Calgary. Then on the weekend we were off to Cimone, a nearby mountain, for snowboarding. The preparations necessary in order for this trip to<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>happen included finding affordable snowpants for me to buy as well as buying chains for Giuseppe’s car tires, as it was the new law that cars driving on certain highways had to have these in the vehicle at all times. The snowpants were the easy part. I think Giuseppe spent a whole day driving around Florence and the suburbs trying to find a store with the right measurement of chains available. They were sold out everywhere as the law was just instated and no one wanted to risk getting a ticket. However Giuseppe might have ended up with a different kind of ticket, for speeding, as within his frantic search he drove down a familiar street where he knew there was photoradar, yet was too focused on finding those damn chains and forgot to slow down. He’s still awaiting the damage in the mail. I’ve never seen him so mad as that day! </span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >However, in the end, he got the chains and we got to go snowboarding. It’s been so long since I’ve gone and it felt great. At Giuseppe’s request I made us some butt-protector padding out of a cheap exercise matt, which came in handy for his spills (he’s still learning) and for my sensitive tailbone. At one point during the day, the zipper on the fly of Giuseppe’s snowpants broke and as he wasn’t able to do up the top button due to slight weight gain from when he’d bought the pants 4 years ago, we decided to switch. When I brought the pants out to him from the ladies bathroom, I apparently got a funny look from a lady spying my butt-protector sticking out of my leggings, haha. We packed it in a bit early as the runs were getting slicker as the day cooled off, but we were both content. However the next day, Giuseppe decided it was necessary to stay home from work as he could barely move. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3OiwyJa3LiFYkNM1eyFkvuY-4oJ4cqrUpBCqrF0saeJ6LBrjOYpv3nhRgIrSEnt8YPCEglG62Qoe6gbDC3trDJizlM2zWvyJenVbMvqYZovMa6G34FlP7JIwiUM2gVQ0OM6cGFC5mPlvd/s1600/DSC02997.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3OiwyJa3LiFYkNM1eyFkvuY-4oJ4cqrUpBCqrF0saeJ6LBrjOYpv3nhRgIrSEnt8YPCEglG62Qoe6gbDC3trDJizlM2zWvyJenVbMvqYZovMa6G34FlP7JIwiUM2gVQ0OM6cGFC5mPlvd/s400/DSC02997.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705052297147829858" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbGsE5D1RziS94I76vAOBlFXvFE4Py3aTFyfj7v6ECojFqGcfpWNkfkPUNpCOYYFrk0btstkXWEzf9aUC6gxv7IOvLQtHBQUNNDRmUcKgRq-zGVU5elyER_w9jzDy0MhYAWBxbax2REy_M/s1600/DSC02982.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbGsE5D1RziS94I76vAOBlFXvFE4Py3aTFyfj7v6ECojFqGcfpWNkfkPUNpCOYYFrk0btstkXWEzf9aUC6gxv7IOvLQtHBQUNNDRmUcKgRq-zGVU5elyER_w9jzDy0MhYAWBxbax2REy_M/s400/DSC02982.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705052289137151586" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAi9Kdcj89Y8R7PjKFOctChPodcXAFtx4B88TTAP1hq3sTCxKpkivc3XWK1upIwIboB3WcyrsyTpAVbBb5fUzD0plSyYrQvkaU-CCCBxen9nE44k_uaTXM1CqFMGcx2wTYT0tYYksV4S2/s1600/DSC03001.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAi9Kdcj89Y8R7PjKFOctChPodcXAFtx4B88TTAP1hq3sTCxKpkivc3XWK1upIwIboB3WcyrsyTpAVbBb5fUzD0plSyYrQvkaU-CCCBxen9nE44k_uaTXM1CqFMGcx2wTYT0tYYksV4S2/s400/DSC03001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705052306072575154" border="0" /></a></span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;">Modelling Giuseppe's 'moon boots', all the rage for winter fashion in Italy </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >The next days in Florence I caught up with some friends and we hauled my bags off from Martinho’s place (they weren’t quite as heavy as I was remembering thankfully). As well, Giuseppe helped me put up an ad offering private English lessons in Palermo and scope out apartment listings. This situation changed as a different opportunity soon came to present itself. The first call in response to my ad was from the boss of the newspaper office at the university of Palermo. I explained I hadn’t yet arrived in Palermo but when I did I’d be happy to arrange lessons at his convenience. He inquired where I’d be staying and I explained I didn’t know yet as I was looking for an apartment. Within a few days this turned into a mutually beneficial situation- I would do an unpaid internship with the university newspaper office (doing some illustrations and translations) in exchange for free housing in a student dorm until the end of February. This was a small miracle and a huge a relief, as it would’ve been rather crazy trying to find the right apartment over the course of a weekend. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: left;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >So Giuseppe and I headed to Palermo Friday Jan 13 with a little more relaxed schedule ahead of us. Immediately upon stepping of the plane the air was much warmer than in Florence. Looking out the window during the bus ride from the airport I was surprised to see the streets and buildings more modern than I was expecting (the route from the airport is the newer area, we’d later see the old, old area of the city, with some parts literally crumbling). From the train station we scouted our our little bed and breakfast hotel and were graciously welcomed by the owner, Marisa. We ate dinner at the trattoria below before heading to the night-life zone where we scouted out all the cute bars before choosing one to have a drink at and then heading back to the hotel to crash.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" > </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1minEVDIaVYqemRJVGti8SlOUc_SojC1rw_LV7sXksEWtISCMPU6IPKHFAimIyDPKNuijfBZUjOMHs-V4Z9oxDyEEwt3n5we4ZQqB_Eu0M6Ji2jz4KmEMiJhKrOtlgBJ44oXDG_f42IB/s1600/DSC03010.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1minEVDIaVYqemRJVGti8SlOUc_SojC1rw_LV7sXksEWtISCMPU6IPKHFAimIyDPKNuijfBZUjOMHs-V4Z9oxDyEEwt3n5we4ZQqB_Eu0M6Ji2jz4KmEMiJhKrOtlgBJ44oXDG_f42IB/s400/DSC03010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705052311593932498" border="0" /> </a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Teatro Massimo</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBYIxQmm12Eocax5nDnD9ZWkgZ-qswPGPxdXjolC8lJch8KQ8HODCB_ZxeF8u3cpcGt6F13Px-MoRbdt6bdrfTLprUWyb4L4TTf-uW589laqoJ9KLq7BH09cStWBoRerwCmwwa5icYCbue/s1600/DSC03019.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBYIxQmm12Eocax5nDnD9ZWkgZ-qswPGPxdXjolC8lJch8KQ8HODCB_ZxeF8u3cpcGt6F13Px-MoRbdt6bdrfTLprUWyb4L4TTf-uW589laqoJ9KLq7BH09cStWBoRerwCmwwa5icYCbue/s400/DSC03019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705056159152921810" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">An awesome tree at a park in the center<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >The next day we were off to scope out the student housing where I’d be staying, in an area called Arenella, a little far from the centre but right by the beach</span><span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:Arial; mso-hansi-font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial;mso-char-type:symbol; mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;font-size:100%;" ><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;" >:)</span></span><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" > We were welcomed by the nuns who manage the building and Sister Carmellina gave us a tour of the building, included the 5<sup>th</sup> floor terrace with an amazing view, and the room where I’d be staying. I was pleasantly surprised as I was prepared for much less. The room had a big balcony and a tub! Shortly after, the boss from the university newspaper, Dario, came to meet us and gave us a little tour of the city, ending at the university grounds, where Giuseppe and I decided to use my new ‘cafeteria card’ and eat lunch for a budget friendly 3.50 Euro. This includes primo piatto (the carbs), secondo (the meat), contorno (the veg), plus a piece of fruit, a beverage, and bread (for those robust people who can tolerate it- I still can’t</span><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >). </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TQnUfw5E1ZiPUu2Fmm6-Obo1eI4hgCHH5rxjDZRvgvTL-C26Yvru0oYpoMxpNGnKLM66eS4MrSRXMUDRorl4wFxX3WuBuZ_4SivifE-Z8rcwEdXZnMuZv_v0Btnh9vsQ8AsP-ZeTGZ1E/s1600/DSC03027.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TQnUfw5E1ZiPUu2Fmm6-Obo1eI4hgCHH5rxjDZRvgvTL-C26Yvru0oYpoMxpNGnKLM66eS4MrSRXMUDRorl4wFxX3WuBuZ_4SivifE-Z8rcwEdXZnMuZv_v0Btnh9vsQ8AsP-ZeTGZ1E/s400/DSC03027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705056163350001474" border="0" /></a></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Some naturally gluten free sicilian sweets made with almond flour</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >From there we headed back to the center of the city and passed through the super old historic center with it’s tiny, ominous streets and crumbling walls. The city had been bombed during the war and many of the buildings still remain in ruins. It feels very mysterious, likely due to the mix of traces left behind from the many cultures that influenced it’s history (in different periods the city was ruled by Arabs, the French, the Spanish,..) and now the ethnic mix of foreigners that populate the area today.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >That evening we scoped out another restaurant to try some local dishes ( I had caponata, an appetizer made with eggplant and tomato, and risotto with pistachio pesto and shrimp) and then we took another walk through the night-life district, picking another bar to have a drink at nearby the gorgeously lit-up, Teatro Massimo (where the final scenes of the Godfather 3 were shot). The next day was Sunday, and after delivering my bags to my new room at the student dorm, it started raining. I had an umbrella but that didn’t help my feet which were soon soaked due to neglected maintenance on my boots. After walking far too long in search of shelter, we ended up back at the hotel even though we were technically checked out. Marisa was kind enough to have left us the key so we could return for Giuseppe’s bag before he had to go to the airport and catch his flight back to Florence. As such, we thankfully had a place to warm up and dry off and kill some time watching TV before it was time to go. Another goodbye, although this one was a little different than the others as this time it was him who was leaving. After seeing him off on the bus to the airport, I caught my bus back to Arenella, and despite my intention to take a shower, I went right to bed instead, waking up to my phone ringing as I’d asked Giuseppe to call me when he arrived. Then back to sleep before starting my new life in the morning. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >I slowly got the hang of how things work here. The rooms are cleaned twice a week, there’s a free shuttle bus that goes to and from the university 3 times a day on weekdays, you have to leave your key with the nun at the entrance when you leave, you pick up fresh sheets and toilet paper on Saturday mornings (it took me a few weeks to figure this one out) and there’s a dinner available every week night with your cafeteria card which you must register and pay for the day before if you want to eat it. This dorm houses mostly foreign students, from the Middle East, Vietnam, Africa, although there’s also some Italians from different cities in Sicily too.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx03ej65xWiQYAcQ3Lr4OnlGZ10MRmWh3lSFE6JyLZJO9O934RGKxv0eTLWAc-bXHKswnVmJxXsMWQBRrq7Yg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">My first big room</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx8tUMZklUHioI2_w57RHy3Vx-lFg6El17PIrf8Af0DC8sEaMbEaH3m3fN2oY-5_nvkf8YcB1acIppAuA2FbA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">My current small room</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw6WUKfUJ3g5XSjKHZLiyfKnGODuK5adP0dwGTbES_ATE-07POO1fpCIoPDi6-QWu6TcPT4BaXo_-hIRUazbA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The kitchen<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >As time goes on I’m getting to know the nuns and their names and personalities. At first they all looked the same in their matching outfits. My favorite is Sister Rosetta who despite possibly being the oldest of the nuns, is the feistiest and intrigues me with her mischievous grin and glint in her eye and random singing. I’ve also had practice using the formal tense in Italian, which is used when speaking to someone of a respectful position, and in this case should be used with the nuns. It’s a little awkward and strange for me but I’m getting better. This involves speaking to them in third person, so instead of asking a nun ‘do you have my key?’ you say ‘does SHE have my key?’. Strangely, you also say SHE when you’re talking to a man, which I find a bit inappropriate but alas, this is how the language works. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >I love being so close to the beach and going there to sit and listen and watch the waves, the feeling is unexplainable. And I’m overjoyed that it’s finally been confirmed to me by a local that yes, surfing (not just wind surfing which I knew is common but REAL surfing) exists in Italy, particularly at Mondello, a beautiful beach just outside of Palermo. I. CAN’T. WAIT. FOR. SUMMER!!!! When the sun is out, the weather is nice but somehow it's still always cold inside, and especially on rainy days. I wasn't prepared for this, I thought it was going to be warm here!! However I've been assured that spring always arrives early, so by next month the temperature will start to climb.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzmxFD3EIJ4A7mnxOmagpI7HdimS0cDsS7f2Wj4r5-uBDPP6-mLWzgXFip5KV8D1jh1fc7-c1O2sPRXb8hq9Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The amazing waves<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifzpJ6r_qANXWm9oFQA2nVMRt8LO9I0A6uX4MylB6aoWZMuGGbTyvLhVphsOIcvSqx2KB8XPUSMv4KTHBgB5t4gURNiRKHjH6acxhYFh62hjLNpq_f1JGiI-Lko5SGBja0lXfeGWSRkV2n/s1600/DSC03031.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifzpJ6r_qANXWm9oFQA2nVMRt8LO9I0A6uX4MylB6aoWZMuGGbTyvLhVphsOIcvSqx2KB8XPUSMv4KTHBgB5t4gURNiRKHjH6acxhYFh62hjLNpq_f1JGiI-Lko5SGBja0lXfeGWSRkV2n/s400/DSC03031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705056203646067074" border="0" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">In the courtyard of the student housing<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5owMTybUpKNlHMJrgv5P33tcSlOABn-tOTEK5DOvTJ47_iVHqjQXlQb-CLmZ5t0Ey7cq0Q1vmEQYuZeYTthyphenhyphenHe-8Rnqwly__OGOVBDVLjrckkid53ibXOlrK20kZTH_QSN_275q_P7qQ/s1600/DSC03050.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5owMTybUpKNlHMJrgv5P33tcSlOABn-tOTEK5DOvTJ47_iVHqjQXlQb-CLmZ5t0Ey7cq0Q1vmEQYuZeYTthyphenhyphenHe-8Rnqwly__OGOVBDVLjrckkid53ibXOlrK20kZTH_QSN_275q_P7qQ/s400/DSC03050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705058440847337602" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;">The homeboy outside the front gate<br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2gpIkQ0eBa0qPh7tBDcU2R7Kagpzmy81D_1lUAhQDFq7f6G3MkjW-2FtcWZG6rwyr_Jj049KXi0_0M4VQeN75uosFHN8pjwl0sMsDb9rDZbt_sUNR0D0yMk4cEH5-Oo7S6jfxuzOCsaN/s1600/DSC03032.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2gpIkQ0eBa0qPh7tBDcU2R7Kagpzmy81D_1lUAhQDFq7f6G3MkjW-2FtcWZG6rwyr_Jj049KXi0_0M4VQeN75uosFHN8pjwl0sMsDb9rDZbt_sUNR0D0yMk4cEH5-Oo7S6jfxuzOCsaN/s400/DSC03032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705056200618178834" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hOGSYCZLGmyH34xONcS4vHFmXb7AGBYmoxVRm8v0mH-MMUMcWDPApf51XFHzN0Bb3a5V52m0XeURHpLHtXA3ClRXdfgTitgIUSDsBUMcmEdZ1rNIiDb7nX353IZ6rVF1q-x6a96XIDAe/s1600/DSC03033.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hOGSYCZLGmyH34xONcS4vHFmXb7AGBYmoxVRm8v0mH-MMUMcWDPApf51XFHzN0Bb3a5V52m0XeURHpLHtXA3ClRXdfgTitgIUSDsBUMcmEdZ1rNIiDb7nX353IZ6rVF1q-x6a96XIDAe/s400/DSC03033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705056215051542706" border="0" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz-_F4jTGQYGTXwElf5RpyZD5vBfcdFdwj0i9YMhFZp6PAKEV96WIZGnE6lUKGBALjYLrjG_-wW8P9F6Ym5_w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Tour of the front entrance<br /></span></div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >My private English lessons have been going well and some days I’ve had trouble fitting people in at the times they request. It’s interesting tailoring the conversations to different levels and ages. Apart from Dario, I have Valeria, an Italian teacher with a degree in language who is gearing up for some tough oral exams in English which will allow her to teach and be an English tour guide. Then there’s Andrea, a 13 year old boy who’s skipped a grade and already started high school, and whose parents want him to be completely fluent in English. Last week I met Elena, who picked me up in front of Teatro Massimo on her motorino and gave me a ride to her house through the chaotic traffic in the historic center, to meet her 9 year old son, Marcos. I discovered he can’t sit still for more than 10 minutes so I needed to take a more active approach, teaching him the verbs ‘run’ ‘jump’ ‘kick’ while performing the actions. He actually retained the information immediately as opposed to when we were sitting at the table trying to get him to remember the question ‘do you have any 5’s’? while playing the card game ‘Go Fish’. I also met Giuseppe, a university graduate who now works for his family’s olive oil company and wants take part in a course abroad for entrepreneurs. Although of course, regardless of which city he actually goes to, the program will be in english, so he's got a lot of work to do before he can join. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >I did a few private trail lessons through an English school near the university and also met Giusi, who was preparing to do a practicum for her masters in Prague within a couple months, in English. She was extremely nervous. Then I met the Pelliterri family, who have two kids, Antonio who’s 12 and Giulia, who’s 9. They were both very attentive students and above all the lessons I've done, I enjoyed my time with Giulia the most, who smiled all the time and has the cutest Italian accent when she speaks English very breathily. “Hiiii, haaliiiikaaa, hatooooa, danzaa” she told me (I like to dance). Me too, I said</span><span style="font-family:Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family:Arial;mso-hansi-font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;font-size:100%;" ><span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings;" >:)</span></span><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" > She was so proud of the things she learned and beamed when I praised her. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=" Arial","sans-serif";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >I’ve since been offered an official contract to teach at different school in Palermo, guaranteeing me at least 10 hours a week to start, until the end of August. As it’s a school that operates a little outside of the box with their methods, encouraging creativity and originality from their teachers, it seemed like the ideal place for me. Although I have lots to learn in order to meet their high standards I think I have something to offer them as well as lots to gain. I start my first lessons for them on Monday and I have lots of preparation to do before then! The only thing I felt bad about is that I wouldn’t be able to return for the second lesson at the Pelliterri house as planned, as it’s not permitted to work for 2 schools simultaneously (however since I'm just part time I can continue to do my own lessons discreetly on the side).<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >The woman at the school was very angry with me when I told her I was accepting a contract with another school, and I tried my best to explain my position to her inbetween brief breaks of her yelling at me. I decided to pass by the Pelliterri house (as I didn’t have their phone number) to apologize and explain the situation myself. I was greeted by the kids who seemed a bit sad and disappointed. After chatting with the Mom she explained they were distraught when she went to the school to pay and were told that I wouldn’t be returning, and I’m not sure what reason the woman gave them, I didn't understand. However, the mom understood and appreciated that I came by. Perhaps I'll be back to do some private lessons for them in the future.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:100%;" >Now that I've seen Palermo for myself, I can see truth to the statement I heard many times in different contexts; Palermo is not like Florence. Sicily; the land where cars prefer to park on the sidewalk, the garbagemen don’t show up for weeks, and car horns like to randomly sing together. At least the bus system is easier to figure out than in Florence. While there are many foreigners in Palermo from Tunisia, Sri Lanka, Morocco, as far as I can tell there are virtually no Americans/Canadians in Palermo. I’m trying to train my ear to the Sicilian dialect which is another whole language on it’s own, and while being similar to the calabrese dialect it has a little different rhythm as far as I can tell. I was thinking that the Sicilian accent might be compared to English as what a cross between a southern drawl and a Scottish accent would sound like.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >Reasons I'm obviously a foreigner, apart from my appearance which is already a big clue: 1. My accent. People scrunch their faces while they listen to me speak (this means they’re straining to understand me) 2. The order that I eat my food at the university cafeteria as a professor sitting at the table beside me observed. I ate my spinach first (il contorno- or side plate), followed by meat (il secondo or second course) and rice (il primo or first course). 3. The map I discreetly pull out while tracing the route of the bus or exploring the city, which sometimes results in someone wanting to help me and giving me wrong directions. Note: I don't think the Palermitanis know any of the street names in their city.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjOKEllpujIEXPvmKii2SVEm_e-EhcUaORlUtnmORyPGp9FXrgGQJWDvhQ8oGi1bW6rc_VBVorZTcdPYIiZ4V37Wh8p3paL8SPbmqcYX-JuxRSkL1ZmGEt7Y-mIZCWX4PUAZS-WUrga3AP/s1600/DSC03068.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjOKEllpujIEXPvmKii2SVEm_e-EhcUaORlUtnmORyPGp9FXrgGQJWDvhQ8oGi1bW6rc_VBVorZTcdPYIiZ4V37Wh8p3paL8SPbmqcYX-JuxRSkL1ZmGEt7Y-mIZCWX4PUAZS-WUrga3AP/s400/DSC03068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705058465169438834" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:100%;" >In anticipation for my independence in March when I'll be kicked out of the free student housing, I looked at my first apartment the other day (I can't wait to have a real kitchen!). Despite being in the perfect zone and being a nice room, the rest of the situation can be summed up like this; 6 girls,1 shower. Bye bye. I’ve got the whole month to find the right place, so hopefully it’s out there waiting for me!</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ej8y2Iir1y5KPD3mYZNB7CpGlMbBQEmnAN6Z1EsrtBeMbZeI5WHGsMjrMhEEou1Y1m6_th6QODEaugklgsaZodEMyLtkqgLayo3HS7AeYgvn13Bcmo_LNRI8M6Xq0zLJkoKFT-FF4kZ-/s1600/DSC03051.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ej8y2Iir1y5KPD3mYZNB7CpGlMbBQEmnAN6Z1EsrtBeMbZeI5WHGsMjrMhEEou1Y1m6_th6QODEaugklgsaZodEMyLtkqgLayo3HS7AeYgvn13Bcmo_LNRI8M6Xq0zLJkoKFT-FF4kZ-/s400/DSC03051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705058442455977570" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="Arial","sans-serif"font-family:";font-size:10.0pt;" > </span></p>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-72842997533836996132011-10-11T16:50:00.000-07:002011-10-13T13:03:48.051-07:00The Sequel (Il Seguito)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_pJYmlf143v16b4XhgE-v4yFcM2jegW7qvCxAuDMwDxIwEtssWcv5eh8uXee1VL1ugkqszjXMFbTgvQBphBZwaomgSYLYWU2SLdR0iC1k1DDWMmDOqWQnigFaLoFssGCB5IXlCj3EmTQQ/s1600/P1020180.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_pJYmlf143v16b4XhgE-v4yFcM2jegW7qvCxAuDMwDxIwEtssWcv5eh8uXee1VL1ugkqszjXMFbTgvQBphBZwaomgSYLYWU2SLdR0iC1k1DDWMmDOqWQnigFaLoFssGCB5IXlCj3EmTQQ/s400/P1020180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662463483874998994" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XBO6UgABg0eqQqr4yZnWHH-AgKn8zXudn85cNCNv5s1MXXi4_s8tsVBpv5mkgH3zLGq-XwEIc1SIJPy-ZogY8WGsTm4ZUNRMCGnmLsOhdBybu_Lgx1HYYMTQjZ2D6_lyxfxpk4saj2X3/s1600/DSC02638.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKwgob-YlknjkjMAiT1nnylvWsZKgvA7HnPZSfenwq8F9Px4FgVFqxCGrH1iFH5vZyEmBDHbTpeeePJBNa1U2OZxpH21msnFd0wh7CL097HSYwg_W6Qyw2ZPjKsBg3B99LT7gdA_c07xhf/s1600/DSC02505.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKwgob-YlknjkjMAiT1nnylvWsZKgvA7HnPZSfenwq8F9Px4FgVFqxCGrH1iFH5vZyEmBDHbTpeeePJBNa1U2OZxpH21msnFd0wh7CL097HSYwg_W6Qyw2ZPjKsBg3B99LT7gdA_c07xhf/s400/DSC02505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662417444480960962" border="0" /></a>Today as I start writing this, is October 1, the anniversary of the day that I arrived in Florence last year. It seems so surreal when I remember what I went through in the days leading up to my departure, and then getting on the plane, and then finally arriving in Florence after many hours of delay, and then peeking out the window of the cab into the dark streets and wondering what my life was going to be like in the months to follow. Although I wish I was in Italy now celebrating this anniversary and propelling the next steps of my life there, I know that will follow soon. Part of me feels like the year passed so fast but when I think of all that's happened and all the ways that my life and myself has changed, it's surprising that all this fits into the time span of 12 months.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">Shortly after my sister's july wedding in Canada and followed by my mom's birthday, on August 6 I was back for another week in Toronto to deal with abandoned belongings and catch up with friends before jetting back to Italy. I was so fortunate to see my first italian tutor, Mirella, on the only day that our schedules found us both in Toronto (she now lives in Montreal) and I also got to meet her brother, Leo, who was on vacation in Canada from Rome where he works as a graphic designer. With some girlfriends I had a night of salsa, toronto style, and the night before I left for Italy, another night of dancing until the early hours with the boyz in the gay district. Although I lived in that neighborhood of Toronto for over 4 years I'd never quite experienced it like that before!<br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUed8seqb4jAhqEeB28XtWiqnQk_0VZ75MJAHLAsSxKkw9XZkVsTXAALxeZJ6XAe2MFXjMFBPzWSxLIbUjpSt3UpWQOM8VlkIVtg95_Jji8LUXg0ZigutIiKhFyr83_7ksTNPt2eU1cG-l/s1600/DSC02463.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUed8seqb4jAhqEeB28XtWiqnQk_0VZ75MJAHLAsSxKkw9XZkVsTXAALxeZJ6XAe2MFXjMFBPzWSxLIbUjpSt3UpWQOM8VlkIVtg95_Jji8LUXg0ZigutIiKhFyr83_7ksTNPt2eU1cG-l/s400/DSC02463.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662398964464461938" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">The toronto girls in boyz town: Tess, Kiran, Me, Sadaf, Deanna, Olga and Alex </span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifllE7GpR8myfe-B_A8jyWarYDeu_o9C1eQ00C-LJWriePH7pKOl1svZ_Fm_LMcsqAn1oQj7dmns4SPDi4lAobLcUkp9ddaDIxNwCo3yZrRuhjgoFzWGvQB4hv1L27T543QaQ3fvfKo0qT/s1600/SJ_72dpi.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifllE7GpR8myfe-B_A8jyWarYDeu_o9C1eQ00C-LJWriePH7pKOl1svZ_Fm_LMcsqAn1oQj7dmns4SPDi4lAobLcUkp9ddaDIxNwCo3yZrRuhjgoFzWGvQB4hv1L27T543QaQ3fvfKo0qT/s400/SJ_72dpi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662398967041341714" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Photo of Sadaf and I courtesy of Mr. Alan Li</span><br /></div><br />Before heading back to Mississauga to pack my bags, I met Firas for a chat and a hug and then my friend, Saud, who upon calling him for a ride to the airport again, discovered that his new apartment building is exactly beside my friend Sadaf's building where I was staying for the week. I definitely should've called him sooner! At the airport, Sadaf and Saud walked me to security where I gave them big hugs and thank yous and after a bit of waiting, I was on the plane for my original August 13, 10pm flight to ROME!!!! The one I'd initially thought I'd be forfeiting. Che culo che ce l'ho!!!! (lit. What an ass I have!!! In complex explanation, having a big ass in Italy means you're lucky, hence here I am referring to my big ass and hence, my good fortune;)<br /><br />Also as luck would have it, on the plane I sat next to a sweet, young italian student named Federico who had just finished a summer course in english while staying with a host family in Toronto. He told me all about his experience and was sad to go home so soon, but was happy for all the friends he made. We talked a lot both in english and italian over the 7 hour trip and I also told him my story of why I was going to italy and where I'd be going and what my plans were afterward (to see my boyfriend, first to calabria and then to florence, and I'd be returning to Canada in a month unless i found a job). Being a romantic and innocent young lad, he gave me his heartfelt wishes that everything would work out and confided in me his wish to have a girlfriend one day, but not just any girl, Francesca, who went to his high school. I encouraged him and gave him good advice to take her dancing and play her songs on the guitar;)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nHanl0elA9prJLZEDHdLqqbn-A75nZ94j0JR5NiJ2pOrldaP4_uekKRr6pnkGHX3yNUJpB2qHuuHjp5ksQYdZ4GaB8MlGD-ckplZjn_a3TFEUeorl1gbKip79ZE3OnATYRjlZ_gx88BJ/s1600/DSC02468.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nHanl0elA9prJLZEDHdLqqbn-A75nZ94j0JR5NiJ2pOrldaP4_uekKRr6pnkGHX3yNUJpB2qHuuHjp5ksQYdZ4GaB8MlGD-ckplZjn_a3TFEUeorl1gbKip79ZE3OnATYRjlZ_gx88BJ/s400/DSC02468.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662398972937961602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I tried to sleep but didn't have much success, maybe a a couple hours total, but once we approached Italy I was glad I was awake. Federico and I peered out his window at the amazing view of the west coast of italy, which I recognized from the abundance of time I've spent looking at Italy on google maps. The mountains, the cinque terre, the islands off the coast. Magnificent.<br /><br />After getting my bags and giving Federico kisses (the regular italian greeting) and a promise to email him to tell him how things go (reminder to self: fulfill promise to Federico), I was off to the train terminal. As I was already somewhat acquainted with the Rome airport after my departure in June I was able to find my way quickly. After helping a stressed out tourist buy his train ticket I looked up the next trains to Paola, the city in Calabria (the "toe" region of the boot in italy) where Giuseppe would be picking me up. The next train leaving was already fully booked so I bought a ticket for the following one, which fortunately happened to be the faster train, but as 2nd class was already sold out, I ended up with a 105 Euro ticket in first class (ouch).<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhWc2Q0eIs0PRDs1b-Kv8F10bj5sZcOHMylrXGRUn8CK7zAQ-LhdD7nfe8bBvJKuIBavIA2fAlf7uv65WYVzK1CZh3j5nlqWUExhGxCy7dKaLZtqb-_avdRcB5FbGo31I681fHDShx2TYg/s1600/DSC02473.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhWc2Q0eIs0PRDs1b-Kv8F10bj5sZcOHMylrXGRUn8CK7zAQ-LhdD7nfe8bBvJKuIBavIA2fAlf7uv65WYVzK1CZh3j5nlqWUExhGxCy7dKaLZtqb-_avdRcB5FbGo31I681fHDShx2TYg/s400/DSC02473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662398994037127106" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvfmMBoO6Yg3dIfHMB2u-OEJjLLD92a9kSuCxu0gOrg1S-Yd5e7vbKxw5J-jo4sPITiHNE4Dd7jvzuQm3ycpBR9kJbMzOSxDGbP2PNeUGll6S8Ylg4Ke-LlQb3WM_Pvi1ojhH6fItR_AYA/s1600/DSC02472.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvfmMBoO6Yg3dIfHMB2u-OEJjLLD92a9kSuCxu0gOrg1S-Yd5e7vbKxw5J-jo4sPITiHNE4Dd7jvzuQm3ycpBR9kJbMzOSxDGbP2PNeUGll6S8Ylg4Ke-LlQb3WM_Pvi1ojhH6fItR_AYA/s400/DSC02472.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662398986977809762" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Super groggy at the Rome train station, wearing the scarf that Sadaf gave me:)<br /></span></div><br />I called Giuseppe (on my italian cellphone that I'd had the foresight to add credit to before leaving Canada;) while I was on the train to Rome Termini station (the main station in Rome) and told him while trying to keep my voice from exploding what train I'd be arriving on. I could tell he was excited too:) After a little tour hauling my luggage around the station, and stepping outside for a few minutes (it was so hot), I found a place to camp inside for a few hours until my next train arrived. I was SOOO tired, everything looked hazy. I had to keep reminding myself....I'm in ROME!!!! for a little reality check. I chilled and ate some food that I'd brought and took some pictures and videos to pass the time before doing a little shopping in the concourse. I bought a bottle of 14 Euro (!!) aloe vera gel which I knew I'd be needing for the hot italian sun as well as the 60 euro cents entrance to the bathroom for a long session of freshening up. Worth every euro penny on that one.<br /><br />Before I knew it I was on my expensive first class seat peering out the train window to the beautiful view down the coast of italy, heading south, south, south! I snuck in a few more short naps and called Giuseppe to check in when the train arrived in Naples. Upon hearing this, he replied "Oh no! you will be robbed and will arrive with nothing!" He was joking of course as Napoli (Naples) is known for their charismatic and skilled thieves. He was at his cousin's house and she wanted to talk in english with me, so he handed her the phone for a few minutes. She spoke really well and was very polite:)<br /><br />Another couple hours on the train and my excitement was growing. When the train arrived in Paola I was the first one out the door. I looked around but didn't see my little man waiting for me so I kept with the flow of people towards the stairs, scanning the platform for him. I arrived at the stairs and paused. With still no sign of him i thought maybe here you couldn't enter the platform without a ticket or something so I kept with traffic flowing down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs I didn't know which way to turn so I stopped and then my phone started ringing. "Where are you?" He asked. "Where are you??" I asked. He was on the platform, he said. I told him I was at the bottom of the stairs. He was coming, he said. Suddenly his smiling face emerged and my eyes clouded up and I laughed with joy as I watched him descend the stairs with his arms open. We hugged, we laughed, we kissed, we laughed, i laughed more, i couldn't stop, and the pattern continued for many minutes, I don't know for how many because it felt like time stood still.<br /><br />Eventually he grabbed my suitcase and we headed for the exit where he parked the car. It was evening but the air was so moist and warm. We drove a few hours of winding roads to San Giacomo di Acri, his family's town, talking and cuddling (although this may sound dangerous, italians have a particular skill for driving sharp turns at high speeds and cuddling, don't worry mom;). Upon our arrival we were greeted by Giuseppe's sister Veronica, and his brother, Antonio, who had arrived as a surprise for a few days. I gave them big hugs and by then Giuseppe's parents had heard us drive in and had come outside. I greeted them with appreciation and they quickly led us the kitchen where, what else?, food was waiting:) Although I thought I was more tired than hungry the delicious veggie dishes gave me the boost I needed, and we talked and joked in italian, with me keeping up as best as I could. We continued afterward to the sitting area outside for another hour or so before heading to bed. Although my head hit the pillow hard that night, it rose again heavily early the next morning. There was no time to waste as it was Ferragosto!!!<br /><br />Ferragosto is the august holiday in Italy. It is usually celebrated with, what else?, food! Oh yeah also friends, family, and nature:) After some deliberation, Giuseppe had decided to take me to celebrate with a group of his friends, rather than his family, which totaled the grand sum of 68 people; talk about overwhelming for my first day in Calabria! So instead, we were a group of 9. We packed up the food and equipment and headed for La Sila, the mountainous region nearby to scope out a piece of ground among the mobs of people with the same idea.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqpqq4kcJpAfvzfY7CwJswkii9RPj6-FZV2cD4hssofYVsM0bkYKycW-7O_PqEvmZYUdx141ANlCsmhBkguLb2jLUaFuQnkWMD7hlEdURvvRIY1qX9-soHRc4_Npc73Qj6MppNkuhWF3X/s1600/DSC02476.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqpqq4kcJpAfvzfY7CwJswkii9RPj6-FZV2cD4hssofYVsM0bkYKycW-7O_PqEvmZYUdx141ANlCsmhBkguLb2jLUaFuQnkWMD7hlEdURvvRIY1qX9-soHRc4_Npc73Qj6MppNkuhWF3X/s400/DSC02476.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662414093115910722" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrS-vAVQl-gZeudFhYmTEqeopocqgkkjEcW8VRVEprxt8P8k2Iv46UsdxM72j2Qb47PuQpYIVkbShFGRm_N3l1OrMmZ9sYZ9qXe0rEskTKV34vWzNTl3paLgk0g4lJCRgk404eCC4Gc-VA/s1600/DSC02477.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrS-vAVQl-gZeudFhYmTEqeopocqgkkjEcW8VRVEprxt8P8k2Iv46UsdxM72j2Qb47PuQpYIVkbShFGRm_N3l1OrMmZ9sYZ9qXe0rEskTKV34vWzNTl3paLgk0g4lJCRgk404eCC4Gc-VA/s400/DSC02477.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662414096187196674" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">The italian girls in La Sila: me, Gabriella, Debra, Nunzia and Rossella<br /><br /></span></div>I met Giuseppe's best friend, Angelo, who I'd heard plenty of stories about, and joked with another friend about words he knew in english: computer, cocktail, bar, okay, weekend...all these words actually exist in the italian vocabulary;) It was hard to keep up with group conversations as I'd been suddenly plunged back into the italian world after a 6 week break, and although my brain wasn't operating at top condition due to tiredness, this italian world was also all in calabrian dialect. Despite understanding a very low percentage of this dialect, I remained concentrated on listening which allowed some of the sounds to decode themselves.<br /><br />We setup our spot nearby the lake and beneath the trees, and it wasn't long before we plunged into the food, round 1. There was really SO much food. Plenty of their renowned calabrian sausage, frittatta, rice croquettes, rice salad, pastries, marinated vegetables, bread, potato chips, like 6 big melons, fresh figs, I don't know what else I'm forgetting but there was a LOT of food. I watched the Italians and followed their lead on how they paced themselves. It was all delicious. It wasn't long before somebody broke into the games. First up, bocce ball!<br /><br />After a few rounds of that we were ready for round 2 of eating. Giuseppe cut up some of his family's tomatoes into slices and carefully added olive oil, basil, and salt, but just as he started to pass them around, water started falling from the sky. At first we just tried to move everything under the shelter of the trees, but then the thunder started. Not looking good, we scrambled to pack everything up and get it back into the car before damage was done. I regretfully watched Giuseppe toss his tomatoes into the trash before I could intercept them with my mouth:_(<br /><br />Not ready to give up on Ferragosto, we packed up in the cars as the rain fell and made our way to a property nearby owned by the parents of Angelo. Once the guys figured out how to enter the property (one entrance had a huge ditch in the road which Giuseppe strategically attempted to drive over. Plan B was going into the hotel beside the property and asking for the owner of the car blocking the other entrance. The guy finally came out.) we unloaded the ton of food again accompanied by tarantella music (traditional southern italian music) blasting from one of the cars, and this time into the protection of a little old house.<br /><br />We started round 3 of eating while the sky cleared up and afterward played some frisbee, volleyball and other various games. Round 4 eating commenced and Giuseppe cut up the biggest watermelon I've ever seen, followed by another bocce ball showdown between the boys, and round 5 of eating followed by some lounging and napping on the grass, later followed by round 6....maybe 7 too of eating. As the evening approached it was time to pack up. Among all the back and forth, the rice salad with a bowl of fresh figs balancing on top slipped out of Giuseppe's hands as he exited the house and turned the corner. Dead was Giuseppe's mom's glass dish and the rice salad all over the dirt. The figs on top could've been salvaged in my opinion but before I could save them they were in the trash too:_(<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmCAVnKJlDaR0zjDWve9K4ppTDGiuBuT1ytM3PBYGzr__FwAjHuwF4n9Evh2X4n2A1emgkgHLbliMGij8oJPYrZK_Z9b6EJsciinVbx-v094B5wDnN9z9y_eP5Ib1iySWQmgmhrWT56Wt/s1600/DSC02487.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmCAVnKJlDaR0zjDWve9K4ppTDGiuBuT1ytM3PBYGzr__FwAjHuwF4n9Evh2X4n2A1emgkgHLbliMGij8oJPYrZK_Z9b6EJsciinVbx-v094B5wDnN9z9y_eP5Ib1iySWQmgmhrWT56Wt/s400/DSC02487.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662414135436346802" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzxMw2bdTAiIwPUIcj2WT69yOmFsXBnwHaYu22qzwKMD7KIkjeJ11IfJMJKLRavtkGsaI2Tg5QguYQszhP8qbFRbBnxEREx8axOYMNG1ElxEyxpwPyOtw5Eq_Q2isgcYHNIIVjpbDQufk/s1600/DSC02486.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzxMw2bdTAiIwPUIcj2WT69yOmFsXBnwHaYu22qzwKMD7KIkjeJ11IfJMJKLRavtkGsaI2Tg5QguYQszhP8qbFRbBnxEREx8axOYMNG1ElxEyxpwPyOtw5Eq_Q2isgcYHNIIVjpbDQufk/s400/DSC02486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662414117155436274" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0Xn9EcPT0J4J2JNxwn-ptH2yTIwZzjL2zFvEEX2Un5BNzuySiKzrsto72rF1LCUBVfjqsXSevk79ZVKHDYIKKiMXB9JV0kKnL7oxJ_gzpLVycugICkymeWb42An5NCKy5GTalGzS1rME/s1600/DSC02484.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy0Xn9EcPT0J4J2JNxwn-ptH2yTIwZzjL2zFvEEX2Un5BNzuySiKzrsto72rF1LCUBVfjqsXSevk79ZVKHDYIKKiMXB9JV0kKnL7oxJ_gzpLVycugICkymeWb42An5NCKy5GTalGzS1rME/s400/DSC02484.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662417412846068594" border="0" /></a><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxydxrvuQMIaQ7Ci844AfLi2VyiwXVhj9D25XpiUaoegvdZ5TPpmhmh0ZdKau2IqlRtQV0Uvo1Y3AxRoEa6rQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">The boys settle a discrepancy on who's ball was the closest.</span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6du4MJLNP_HkRirrlM_PraPU4qB0UtIC8TNeD6DEeu7xpY7p9_SrUaKqMawjyqlpNW2H16N99a6R9kuHbKI3bD2RjpUstI8Nm6h-UQZ5G2cj5joyMRCjDahqRCjurY5oyoXZNX5zY2o34/s1600/DSC02489.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6du4MJLNP_HkRirrlM_PraPU4qB0UtIC8TNeD6DEeu7xpY7p9_SrUaKqMawjyqlpNW2H16N99a6R9kuHbKI3bD2RjpUstI8Nm6h-UQZ5G2cj5joyMRCjDahqRCjurY5oyoXZNX5zY2o34/s400/DSC02489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662417417268053090" border="0" /></a><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzccPS-dts5tFrDvix4YiqEpiqOH2cEtzAn6p55men54bOLjnstjsyAzfRqg6HX7kurxg9m-OK6jaTsEsod' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">More games and music</span><br /></div><br />The next day we slept in and then we were off to the beach in a nearby city called Corigliano. We headed out after a late breakfast, which always included fresh fruit from Giuseppe's family's fruit trees and for me, herbal tea and gluten free bread or rice cakes with jam. A lunch of leftover rice salad (luckily not all of it was sent with us yesterday) and a panino for Giuseppe was packed ready to go by his mamma. I promised her that I wouldn't let Giuseppe break the dish this time but she said this time she knew better and was sending plastic. On the way to Corigliano Giuseppe stopped the car to show me the land with olive trees that his family owned; the origin of the fantastic olive oil I'd been consuming over the previous months at Giuseppe's apartment in Florence.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_nLZrixaGhZyfcKHwPazk_8TXeWtgiUiZzeIZjpS3KBYNgBhs64BvPAHyX8tvJepB48ZN-6ANb5OlbUCyI2mjOxOAIkf_S1DIj3Cdzldl0RCefbNc3T3UPAL1syfPLe4Aee6fJdmIMAz/s1600/DSC02496.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_nLZrixaGhZyfcKHwPazk_8TXeWtgiUiZzeIZjpS3KBYNgBhs64BvPAHyX8tvJepB48ZN-6ANb5OlbUCyI2mjOxOAIkf_S1DIj3Cdzldl0RCefbNc3T3UPAL1syfPLe4Aee6fJdmIMAz/s400/DSC02496.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662417437226247810" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKwgob-YlknjkjMAiT1nnylvWsZKgvA7HnPZSfenwq8F9Px4FgVFqxCGrH1iFH5vZyEmBDHbTpeeePJBNa1U2OZxpH21msnFd0wh7CL097HSYwg_W6Qyw2ZPjKsBg3B99LT7gdA_c07xhf/s1600/DSC02505.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0i3PlkjxJbhfny4xMdhT_4O4I4l2Z3VqpJgxOJFPMQ3fhB1er7fQRzt6iGboQ-QDWQw0yph58K4qc3uu5HqoMTtNmakuNlLxcY3tBNrGsh2ZIDHES8HVaq9o-rPxcEUudLxUh3WmkRaky/s1600/DSC02502.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0i3PlkjxJbhfny4xMdhT_4O4I4l2Z3VqpJgxOJFPMQ3fhB1er7fQRzt6iGboQ-QDWQw0yph58K4qc3uu5HqoMTtNmakuNlLxcY3tBNrGsh2ZIDHES8HVaq9o-rPxcEUudLxUh3WmkRaky/s400/DSC02502.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662419329827848274" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxXwjO2vo7xbn0zZl-Dj0fGGdXrHt_q63jNW1TFAI8Cr_T8yMLMXOrVq8knwEp7k3MottG0j7APpFAGBKDbmw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTRVut4uaclv69fJQtLQMonhrlE3TNvxM_FUGVbyaZVV2zrn3MFsSTn4YWPlqDDgL2iXcNsnSjdnCmJtEpIX8oRbBvwFwrdFPnrpklYaJVVm8167hFvopWqzazpkJnWXJRCrLSKtCERaBq/s1600/DSC02508.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTRVut4uaclv69fJQtLQMonhrlE3TNvxM_FUGVbyaZVV2zrn3MFsSTn4YWPlqDDgL2iXcNsnSjdnCmJtEpIX8oRbBvwFwrdFPnrpklYaJVVm8167hFvopWqzazpkJnWXJRCrLSKtCERaBq/s400/DSC02508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662419334764502050" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After roasting on the beach and swimming for the afternoon, we made it back home to get cleaned up in time for dinner, but first Giuseppe took me on a tour through their "garden"...um more like farm really. I met all the animals, the pigs, rabbits, guinea pigs, and goats; the vegetables, corn, eggplant, cucumbers, zucchini, tomatoes, lettuce, beans; and the fruit; pears, plums, cherries (also they have a separate piece of land with just cherries which I was fortunate to eat plenty of in June) hazelnuts, chestnuts, figs, melons, and I don't even know what else. How fantastic! Giuseppe would periodically find something ripe and pick it for me and I would eat it...a pear, a tomato, a plum, a green bean.....Giuseppe looked back surprised to see me munching on that one! His intention wasn't for me to eat it but just to show me. I was too happy to question.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0M1JlqaIRWul3dinXcpb1uDFOqLrXlx5jqOO0XfbrxiN2DYyxmOD1oTOaY8p-IY6_xG5ZQAnoENpD3tfyGVPiMi74wzpF_QryWsqbhauU6xSsguAUFn2JOfysKMIHHOWJFLDlD3ZOSA4/s1600/DSC02517.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0M1JlqaIRWul3dinXcpb1uDFOqLrXlx5jqOO0XfbrxiN2DYyxmOD1oTOaY8p-IY6_xG5ZQAnoENpD3tfyGVPiMi74wzpF_QryWsqbhauU6xSsguAUFn2JOfysKMIHHOWJFLDlD3ZOSA4/s400/DSC02517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662419344669135346" border="0" /></a><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCa31gdAbTexkLiPdVjnPrQY0nKOAzutJfLDQwpNzkJTz7izjMbEyTZTd-l4zRhD4wK4Ua5zxWDPrx1oviKOfQdRsTGtlR85YdZm9tTmp0tKtC3qp74yiulGGzMiQ9yS7AKzQE7P9867M/s1600/DSC02518.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCa31gdAbTexkLiPdVjnPrQY0nKOAzutJfLDQwpNzkJTz7izjMbEyTZTd-l4zRhD4wK4Ua5zxWDPrx1oviKOfQdRsTGtlR85YdZm9tTmp0tKtC3qp74yiulGGzMiQ9yS7AKzQE7P9867M/s400/DSC02518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662419355664339282" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs2YM3Xt-_gibPgidz7CuKdHd8R1OscdUy3bqQCidYo5BhdBDvsmFrMl6LGEuIgv3DeRs0fO3_3WDuxQiM6RgnsA-9lizs-jWtNkCKHc68sOTHZWHpxccwJjJsSUUQA_LctD2_W7TIM8tN/s1600/21082011088.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs2YM3Xt-_gibPgidz7CuKdHd8R1OscdUy3bqQCidYo5BhdBDvsmFrMl6LGEuIgv3DeRs0fO3_3WDuxQiM6RgnsA-9lizs-jWtNkCKHc68sOTHZWHpxccwJjJsSUUQA_LctD2_W7TIM8tN/s400/21082011088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662414138191801186" border="0" /></a>Picking lettuce for dinner one night<br /></div><br />After a lovely dinner with almost all the ingredients directly from their garden farm, I brought the Canadian gifts down to his parents and explained as best as I could what everything was. Maple syrup and candies, a little bottle of icewine, beef jerky, rhubarb jelly made by my grandma, and a mickey of whiskey along with some postcards of the Drumheller badlands and the dinosaur bones. Although I could see all these things were pretty foreign to them, they seemed quite impressed and happy. Veronica and Antonio were also happy with their maple leaf socks and chocolate loonies, as well as Giuseppe who also got a stylin' Toronto shirt.<br /><br />The next evening there was a concert in another nearby town called Rossano, by a southern italian girl group called Le Rivoltelle. We headed there together with Veronica and Giuseppe's cousin, also named Giuseppe and his girlfriend Vivianna, who I'd had the pleasure of meeting in June when we went to visit them at their home near Venice. Once we got there we met up with Angelo and Debora, another friend from ferragosto. Despite having tickets that said the concert started at 11 o'clock we waited patiently (at first) maybe an hour? to be let in. Finally we entered and the show started. Giuseppe and I snuck to the front to dance for the whole show, at least 2 hours! They were really spectacular, I'm sure it won't be too long until they're famous in Italy.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZNlkNinKfMbpYEqFxT-V3SyfpQsFLoQASw_noPOjZtojr5csLY3df33OkJIQbl1VmGJkL4OOBbXhpK2ANl8G2R5iMZRGZuTEvamVp07zxSQAxk4pivh2cD5qJmO-eyf9XvGe4LK9wm9g/s1600/DSCN0326.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZNlkNinKfMbpYEqFxT-V3SyfpQsFLoQASw_noPOjZtojr5csLY3df33OkJIQbl1VmGJkL4OOBbXhpK2ANl8G2R5iMZRGZuTEvamVp07zxSQAxk4pivh2cD5qJmO-eyf9XvGe4LK9wm9g/s400/DSCN0326.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662431970049462386" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVgMja0_nyk1EdkF-bwBugdKhVoQwYvDA44bppDnC_n-fsmAUyTkh5cUTZ7qQDw6qtOocBlU2PRKtyTVELUe5HfFH7eB37ELgpIxfYBUSmV9Geu9fTuU0D2rLMx3bCIUUngMHIbAtpoi-/s1600/DSCN0327.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVgMja0_nyk1EdkF-bwBugdKhVoQwYvDA44bppDnC_n-fsmAUyTkh5cUTZ7qQDw6qtOocBlU2PRKtyTVELUe5HfFH7eB37ELgpIxfYBUSmV9Geu9fTuU0D2rLMx3bCIUUngMHIbAtpoi-/s400/DSCN0327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662435437173648002" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQn9tWf-ARdwLWL1Yne84gT93Lqu_oNZxLl20EFxBxr-TFzFCHkc7YwkpNNNlmda_62vV_T4C8J13VSTDLGfWKvezjxJPeOim5Tnc1jJhYrFhLlruHV1xs4aGgf2FfNG6TDtDu98JuVTSF/s1600/DSCN0329.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQn9tWf-ARdwLWL1Yne84gT93Lqu_oNZxLl20EFxBxr-TFzFCHkc7YwkpNNNlmda_62vV_T4C8J13VSTDLGfWKvezjxJPeOim5Tnc1jJhYrFhLlruHV1xs4aGgf2FfNG6TDtDu98JuVTSF/s400/DSCN0329.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662435445329303362" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGhLlwHsUeZ8wBCG-cdqXWe-q1ESeMjjZLhEURerIcKCdQBs7k3MjOFrroBXgHueWwdd3h3DYX7si8i8Ft5z9Z6yF9p5QlZTiBbpfDWr1lQKl88Zb9XDYq5m8M-8mh6IcH03Xt0jxwCjRc/s1600/DSCN0333.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGhLlwHsUeZ8wBCG-cdqXWe-q1ESeMjjZLhEURerIcKCdQBs7k3MjOFrroBXgHueWwdd3h3DYX7si8i8Ft5z9Z6yF9p5QlZTiBbpfDWr1lQKl88Zb9XDYq5m8M-8mh6IcH03Xt0jxwCjRc/s400/DSCN0333.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662435466594465090" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwUkRQeCt7TmqHhRTWPeW1-csLxSKod1tXtoUM2vYjy3tZNRPq_6iB1tCeoglnT1q_2CiPwGDSHLf3Bn4qYzHRHhwKleabkjAxTIJap-lgi7QDpHLqv2ZfmyXn54Q48TLQl6y0VB5eMQM/s1600/DSC02528.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwUkRQeCt7TmqHhRTWPeW1-csLxSKod1tXtoUM2vYjy3tZNRPq_6iB1tCeoglnT1q_2CiPwGDSHLf3Bn4qYzHRHhwKleabkjAxTIJap-lgi7QDpHLqv2ZfmyXn54Q48TLQl6y0VB5eMQM/s400/DSC02528.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662421022405916066" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next morning we were up early again and off on a 3 day beach trip, with Angelo riding with Giuseppe and I, and cousin Giuseppe and Vivianna trailing in their car behind us. The first stop was Praia al Mare where Giuseppe and Angelo's other good friend from University, Mauro lives. I also had the pleasure of meeting Mauro and his girlfriend, Anna, when they came to visit Florence at the end of April for Notte Bianca. It was so cool to see them again! The beach was beautiful with crystal clear blue water and an amazing view. After some swimming, eating, and suntanning we rented boats to go visit the grottos (water caves). Upon returning we were all bagged and took a beach nap. Waiting for us upon awakening was a big bag of pears that Giuseppe's mom had sent with us. I handed them out with pleasure and watched as they were quickly devoured.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwUkRQeCt7TmqHhRTWPeW1-csLxSKod1tXtoUM2vYjy3tZNRPq_6iB1tCeoglnT1q_2CiPwGDSHLf3Bn4qYzHRHhwKleabkjAxTIJap-lgi7QDpHLqv2ZfmyXn54Q48TLQl6y0VB5eMQM/s1600/DSC02528.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhihdpqjOFQPj0G_khjViGr1b6wXQD4v9PSx36ilv2iqiC0Hq1XQGqKIHJmoYLo0lAhJIDG1-JPtWkohDrdFvooF53gey2nOJCwhMkcY5vcvKIKXYbFzMMijz3DG1lL2IhmsLqkxH2h8L_Q/s1600/DSC02542.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhihdpqjOFQPj0G_khjViGr1b6wXQD4v9PSx36ilv2iqiC0Hq1XQGqKIHJmoYLo0lAhJIDG1-JPtWkohDrdFvooF53gey2nOJCwhMkcY5vcvKIKXYbFzMMijz3DG1lL2IhmsLqkxH2h8L_Q/s400/DSC02542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662421029690422594" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh449rbDQa1eekBCR1UMTn-pcg9x3-ltnMPmSLCtkEWroIyVHfgdsq8hyphenhyphen5eujiOweMr_B3xk2yv801s8niHejUxE1Wd4mJQhm-0H-9UwoVDQhOEZMu7nKDEuFAP_4H5YjBOuEateD7wn2wu/s1600/P1020127.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwtm4iJUnbKtrAhawm8vRPj_V1XGu-U0J45W9po5d0B7XEeYK9YxxyGh-vWVbk9P1qqxFAxj7W0fguAhDjuo9cI2Hw-VlN3ma8Y8J3IaDvRTln_yANwmLRrOqL9UPWWN1SO61XdmX_yRmb/s1600/P1020079.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwtm4iJUnbKtrAhawm8vRPj_V1XGu-U0J45W9po5d0B7XEeYK9YxxyGh-vWVbk9P1qqxFAxj7W0fguAhDjuo9cI2Hw-VlN3ma8Y8J3IaDvRTln_yANwmLRrOqL9UPWWN1SO61XdmX_yRmb/s400/P1020079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662437565334933362" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh449rbDQa1eekBCR1UMTn-pcg9x3-ltnMPmSLCtkEWroIyVHfgdsq8hyphenhyphen5eujiOweMr_B3xk2yv801s8niHejUxE1Wd4mJQhm-0H-9UwoVDQhOEZMu7nKDEuFAP_4H5YjBOuEateD7wn2wu/s1600/P1020127.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh449rbDQa1eekBCR1UMTn-pcg9x3-ltnMPmSLCtkEWroIyVHfgdsq8hyphenhyphen5eujiOweMr_B3xk2yv801s8niHejUxE1Wd4mJQhm-0H-9UwoVDQhOEZMu7nKDEuFAP_4H5YjBOuEateD7wn2wu/s400/P1020127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662438519926261858" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitM9pbU3qaLWIXOf0S6_o34gAZqjkIlVPMUcQ668jYPGJ21VC5GTdfEeQKQTVjB8i0OdcQJTcCNqe0eWomDkeOF8PUjd-1lsuGqGF1dPHrUTNGBfXgjZX9BDPUX2EspKygqMBjyyUVpkAK/s1600/DSCN0334.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitM9pbU3qaLWIXOf0S6_o34gAZqjkIlVPMUcQ668jYPGJ21VC5GTdfEeQKQTVjB8i0OdcQJTcCNqe0eWomDkeOF8PUjd-1lsuGqGF1dPHrUTNGBfXgjZX9BDPUX2EspKygqMBjyyUVpkAK/s400/DSCN0334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662435472365728402" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdutIBLjS-6F7mIJsf6VPqugji-qzO7MaXD7bu358BtEj49mA-5dWA00Zqdf6NTEg-IB1wyFH6cf4S_Mw8SjgbNWWoTZnCBmwZpKOtZROeDKTp9jqo8hT0-xlfHFhgMUJfDCCNGQWsOhr/s1600/DSC02557.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdutIBLjS-6F7mIJsf6VPqugji-qzO7MaXD7bu358BtEj49mA-5dWA00Zqdf6NTEg-IB1wyFH6cf4S_Mw8SjgbNWWoTZnCBmwZpKOtZROeDKTp9jqo8hT0-xlfHFhgMUJfDCCNGQWsOhr/s400/DSC02557.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662421037970907426" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Anna kindly put us up for the night in some open rooms of her house that they usually rent, but first we were off for gluten-free pizza, I was ecstatic! Anna is also allergic to gluten so she knew where to take us, a place called escopocolasera or in english, idon'tgetoutmuch. Anna and I both had the prosciutto cotto, also known as ham, and afterward was dessert at a nearby gelateria, I had the hazelnut gelato made with rice milk. We polished off the night with sangria back at Anna's, I had 3 glasses:D<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjwQ3bb1hvUViMFVTQGCTBomsVCxJmL4gsnn28m2cv1tlbj5VT25IiEcVnNCQ1D1dXIUjYSIUUkp5hAw4l_etghtlJp31fRTxU0dNhslu-_rgP9G7umC79_o6V6XgIBklYVYE8CEFBFwS/s1600/DSCN0335.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjwQ3bb1hvUViMFVTQGCTBomsVCxJmL4gsnn28m2cv1tlbj5VT25IiEcVnNCQ1D1dXIUjYSIUUkp5hAw4l_etghtlJp31fRTxU0dNhslu-_rgP9G7umC79_o6V6XgIBklYVYE8CEFBFwS/s400/DSCN0335.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662435495571226754" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1NTgoWPo_1znOna58SReK7OQJRZv3RsCN3s7GYK243pJWBbYkCO4Fm2aotwuUHEhHAFm6w2SFKkXKv-s0KZVNoh7J3gaF48__dHsFH0iIeJODBc5VXW5MsBez8XzeTBePF1O-vZaN8Uv/s1600/DSC02559.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1NTgoWPo_1znOna58SReK7OQJRZv3RsCN3s7GYK243pJWBbYkCO4Fm2aotwuUHEhHAFm6w2SFKkXKv-s0KZVNoh7J3gaF48__dHsFH0iIeJODBc5VXW5MsBez8XzeTBePF1O-vZaN8Uv/s400/DSC02559.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662421052531490610" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwtm4iJUnbKtrAhawm8vRPj_V1XGu-U0J45W9po5d0B7XEeYK9YxxyGh-vWVbk9P1qqxFAxj7W0fguAhDjuo9cI2Hw-VlN3ma8Y8J3IaDvRTln_yANwmLRrOqL9UPWWN1SO61XdmX_yRmb/s1600/P1020079.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwtm4iJUnbKtrAhawm8vRPj_V1XGu-U0J45W9po5d0B7XEeYK9YxxyGh-vWVbk9P1qqxFAxj7W0fguAhDjuo9cI2Hw-VlN3ma8Y8J3IaDvRTln_yANwmLRrOqL9UPWWN1SO61XdmX_yRmb/s400/P1020079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662437565334933362" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpt8vxAzB5yvsyB_pDvP__ittlo4_pz2xx5TpWE4Xovl9tyZ1APzJQDC1KKmoWtpFPOWY8cuSxa4sM2EwgQB1krKwugmC_nCcZv61Lp_nbhZDY4nDvoP2pXyyE8fl9ndXspwBaLOVMafb_/s1600/P1020100.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpt8vxAzB5yvsyB_pDvP__ittlo4_pz2xx5TpWE4Xovl9tyZ1APzJQDC1KKmoWtpFPOWY8cuSxa4sM2EwgQB1krKwugmC_nCcZv61Lp_nbhZDY4nDvoP2pXyyE8fl9ndXspwBaLOVMafb_/s400/P1020100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662449735776694322" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">On top of the rocks in the grotto<br /></span></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3GGj6qmGCy580p-y_-byHf27-Qnhwto0upbZ3NoKSuo4bQJMRvkXdmDHxa_wJgFtwY2wA1cyI-vUK0QBfx1AeBBCb6Wdu2X7zNl3nDiyxlIgAjb5IpKH0jgQDJQPZziGz4_0ZfAcCqEV/s1600/DSCN0339.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3GGj6qmGCy580p-y_-byHf27-Qnhwto0upbZ3NoKSuo4bQJMRvkXdmDHxa_wJgFtwY2wA1cyI-vUK0QBfx1AeBBCb6Wdu2X7zNl3nDiyxlIgAjb5IpKH0jgQDJQPZziGz4_0ZfAcCqEV/s400/DSCN0339.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662437535718468658" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0RG3favGCgAIWufSujWsmAwYgM-XDfcR52P7ENZ898jqfzsHVx4L0u81EaqNRXHUfLL41l3-jMhkE50oGjkcHxzll5izTIND0JpO5HxDFWkLKFfug-M2Is5jBsyUry0HCUD0YgkI7nxt/s1600/DSCN0338.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0RG3favGCgAIWufSujWsmAwYgM-XDfcR52P7ENZ898jqfzsHVx4L0u81EaqNRXHUfLL41l3-jMhkE50oGjkcHxzll5izTIND0JpO5HxDFWkLKFfug-M2Is5jBsyUry0HCUD0YgkI7nxt/s400/DSCN0338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662437531203663378" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">The next morning again came too soon and we doused our stingy skin in aloe vera (I knew it would be worth those 14 euros) before saying our thank-yous and goodbyes and other nice words to Mauro and Anna and were off to the next stop, Tropea, driving along the west coast with a short detour to drop off Angelo in Cosenza. He was leaving for a trip to Sicily shortly and needed to get back to prepare. Along the drive Giuseppe received a call from his family that his cousin Tony's adopted baby, Alessio, was taken to the hospital and the doctors were monitoring him to figure out what was wrong. I also had the pleasure of meeting them along with Tony;s wife, Jolanda, in June when we went to visit their new baby at their house near Florence. Giuseppe had just visited them before my arrival in Calabria and told me how much Alessio had grown and how good he seemed to be doing. Despite our concern, we knew there wasn't anything that could be done so we stood by for updates and carried on our trip.<br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjghFylU1HSZdbYo1hUZ4D8pNJ1FPfKJjc4AhMJh13LMFcnAjTdJuCm3grNFIkxUPcoJRswtLlER_f2Bo3tHdBg-_C7Scl_Z_-wfkmekAIKQkRlnG3cMFbQHYjrlko8MtjDU-WZlGniBmsT/s1600/DSC02563.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjghFylU1HSZdbYo1hUZ4D8pNJ1FPfKJjc4AhMJh13LMFcnAjTdJuCm3grNFIkxUPcoJRswtLlER_f2Bo3tHdBg-_C7Scl_Z_-wfkmekAIKQkRlnG3cMFbQHYjrlko8MtjDU-WZlGniBmsT/s400/DSC02563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662421057627864018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">The best buds</span><br /></div><br />Every road in Calabria was so scenic, I took many videos out the windows and exclaimed 'wow' so many times it started to loose meaning. Shortly before our arrival we passed through this cute, crumbly town.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwci15Osfc2dWTbmqP5hkqb5aVNTCsjXLdT4zGlRVJCII8Gu_NfeP4EiROcgKmyVlWaoKg5-j55Ad_dT7Y2mg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1NTgoWPo_1znOna58SReK7OQJRZv3RsCN3s7GYK243pJWBbYkCO4Fm2aotwuUHEhHAFm6w2SFKkXKv-s0KZVNoh7J3gaF48__dHsFH0iIeJODBc5VXW5MsBez8XzeTBePF1O-vZaN8Uv/s1600/DSC02559.JPG"><br /></a><br />After arriving in Tropea and some effort tracking down the two rooms we reserved (which were in different neighborhoods) we got settled and tried to squeeze our butts onto a patch of sand on the beach. It was so packed! It was obvious why however, it was so beautiful with the town overlooking the beach from the cliffs above and the water beyond pristine. As the land space was limited we spent time in the water and then relaxed in the shade before heading back to our rooms to get cleaned up for dinner. We found a cute restaurant with tables in a courtyard that served 500+ kinds of pizza! Unfortunately none of those kinds were gluten free so instead I had the tropean fish, with the specialty ingredients of the area; capers, onions, and olives. We walked around the town the rest of the evening and watched some performances in the piazza.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hvSKSDPehRB0EsiV8Drz2MN8EY8mWNcNkHDUIAFSg3-HDsgXPAf9AAuKRQIJmG89OeH9sTNEN2zmzVya8oONI_BMZVcYoPMXS5qxQb42GqWqnSvL6IDaMKLibOZx2KdR_HKLKk1o5Jqe/s1600/DSCN0345.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hvSKSDPehRB0EsiV8Drz2MN8EY8mWNcNkHDUIAFSg3-HDsgXPAf9AAuKRQIJmG89OeH9sTNEN2zmzVya8oONI_BMZVcYoPMXS5qxQb42GqWqnSvL6IDaMKLibOZx2KdR_HKLKk1o5Jqe/s400/DSCN0345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662439948436785954" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQ4KNBDJEp38PAXDXjuBB3eHszB0MpZHj_ooM0bpXyJZEfHNkXhnJVJVzhK7bHHzCdtuwDfc7YKgOsra1Tauqy4orAxJ2W_czNxiJGJz-lkWEMvBns8Oc4yXSlII4qzC4TxbPpnfsxcnq/s1600/DSC02568.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDK2O2AXka2wu5CcNS4JfYAPSzgeQQZGWLWG6qxlwBDZHj1zqSLZr45ZB6oUpQiEnUKQb1XBDx5ETI-7zFP5wSq9-kcGp_pkmngrTqmklsDeeofQFsEXJmyKg8AcNmko2panFPu54bKI29/s1600/DSCN0354.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDK2O2AXka2wu5CcNS4JfYAPSzgeQQZGWLWG6qxlwBDZHj1zqSLZr45ZB6oUpQiEnUKQb1XBDx5ETI-7zFP5wSq9-kcGp_pkmngrTqmklsDeeofQFsEXJmyKg8AcNmko2panFPu54bKI29/s400/DSCN0354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662439962448504274" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8TmBifFB6_hw3KFHbBDks3L9p1D06fjVA4L7Mw1jv-DNvtmhlbh2qpJOjeg3Fa27IJvDZMR1LlFJFtkJDHbTolPqXRMH9p_qxqi61TEKMn4Hskt66cdui0wV8ca0s_INm90oITjVFzul/s1600/P1020158.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8TmBifFB6_hw3KFHbBDks3L9p1D06fjVA4L7Mw1jv-DNvtmhlbh2qpJOjeg3Fa27IJvDZMR1LlFJFtkJDHbTolPqXRMH9p_qxqi61TEKMn4Hskt66cdui0wV8ca0s_INm90oITjVFzul/s400/P1020158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662439969939519794" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hvSKSDPehRB0EsiV8Drz2MN8EY8mWNcNkHDUIAFSg3-HDsgXPAf9AAuKRQIJmG89OeH9sTNEN2zmzVya8oONI_BMZVcYoPMXS5qxQb42GqWqnSvL6IDaMKLibOZx2KdR_HKLKk1o5Jqe/s1600/DSCN0345.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQ4KNBDJEp38PAXDXjuBB3eHszB0MpZHj_ooM0bpXyJZEfHNkXhnJVJVzhK7bHHzCdtuwDfc7YKgOsra1Tauqy4orAxJ2W_czNxiJGJz-lkWEMvBns8Oc4yXSlII4qzC4TxbPpnfsxcnq/s1600/DSC02568.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQ4KNBDJEp38PAXDXjuBB3eHszB0MpZHj_ooM0bpXyJZEfHNkXhnJVJVzhK7bHHzCdtuwDfc7YKgOsra1Tauqy4orAxJ2W_czNxiJGJz-lkWEMvBns8Oc4yXSlII4qzC4TxbPpnfsxcnq/s400/DSC02568.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662422354463152850" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNAbUtK5_MLcOxizV5dMOwsTqsEwoOb4S4Ndm6-sxBmHSbzcxDI3q_OOA4t_uvdJcljexZmprKHpzCtBs1-8Fc_eRs4LUbHFiPRqkPVPjzkRhinPQDi95uA5mO93Q4vCsl9kk0sBIqfXNC/s1600/DSCN0343.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNAbUtK5_MLcOxizV5dMOwsTqsEwoOb4S4Ndm6-sxBmHSbzcxDI3q_OOA4t_uvdJcljexZmprKHpzCtBs1-8Fc_eRs4LUbHFiPRqkPVPjzkRhinPQDi95uA5mO93Q4vCsl9kk0sBIqfXNC/s400/DSCN0343.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662439936997344706" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9EKpLZCfMYylBPIz716CQ9eg4d2MwVMahRN2CO2KxI2pp9S1SXKo6r-0BIbuQJrWPGvEZiQ4NSNF-PvNokBKnRDTlNkgId0WzniiIvSir2_WU8sEez9kaRb4-K6hKYSbtHUtlcpQrhg2y/s1600/DSCN0342.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9EKpLZCfMYylBPIz716CQ9eg4d2MwVMahRN2CO2KxI2pp9S1SXKo6r-0BIbuQJrWPGvEZiQ4NSNF-PvNokBKnRDTlNkgId0WzniiIvSir2_WU8sEez9kaRb4-K6hKYSbtHUtlcpQrhg2y/s400/DSCN0342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662439934494403330" border="0" /></a><br />The next morning we decided to scope out the beach in the town next door, Capo Vaticano, and we had a little more luck staking out a prime spot of ground for our towels. We swam and swam and suntanned and it was bliss. After lunch we were homeward bound, but for Giuseppe and I not without an important detour.....to Amato, the town where my italian great grandparents were from.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSDZnUjYJ-GEu-CpQVyWMzaXS1lXATqHkewc0KU0txij0xTSsFmzigLYUZrdgJ9HjJYjBkA5_zcLSLQ8PKOhmGlkPWONv4wyH6Nufu74h4KPWHzEGtWgxT3jbuX7Gf3RcJEhcNHrnTuy3/s1600/P1020157.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSDZnUjYJ-GEu-CpQVyWMzaXS1lXATqHkewc0KU0txij0xTSsFmzigLYUZrdgJ9HjJYjBkA5_zcLSLQ8PKOhmGlkPWONv4wyH6Nufu74h4KPWHzEGtWgxT3jbuX7Gf3RcJEhcNHrnTuy3/s400/P1020157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662448422244117714" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLNEBBTlc0EquzYDkUh-KtAer1bmWlzZ9JWrwYocgoRzXKDJSqyteOC4N_6XoruklMxUuvn7GBuh7EH9EnHVogCzWso3u1ijnxtUh5ogbF9iRU0FmKyiFgzclNSaL99N_ydGCuZ8dZeSAl/s1600/P1020196.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLNEBBTlc0EquzYDkUh-KtAer1bmWlzZ9JWrwYocgoRzXKDJSqyteOC4N_6XoruklMxUuvn7GBuh7EH9EnHVogCzWso3u1ijnxtUh5ogbF9iRU0FmKyiFgzclNSaL99N_ydGCuZ8dZeSAl/s400/P1020196.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662448411856436802" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8qzSaX6rSPInna-WQP5ksjpL8QMIyQn5WI2X_YdzJyca-qsNoZIgDJK4G8n8w-hqQTzTMF254hHu_SqKYK5PA9yOBteIAVgb8gFDAYbtB8FCkC1rfySLpmSjiiXl_c64GdbsFqKd4sxv/s1600/P1020200.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8qzSaX6rSPInna-WQP5ksjpL8QMIyQn5WI2X_YdzJyca-qsNoZIgDJK4G8n8w-hqQTzTMF254hHu_SqKYK5PA9yOBteIAVgb8gFDAYbtB8FCkC1rfySLpmSjiiXl_c64GdbsFqKd4sxv/s400/P1020200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662448403383366834" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfr13rfA1XhC4hsjSRJOv3HIvEeRpUaqskIptI1ZNg3c_RPAei1i-Gf1ltBFnNylrej8vD0HV5uF7SKYGq40gDYol0nZyVzwa9SMrY25emtvkIv0Ol2KcCzK3Wu63vUoiNe7ZWpudi2lLG/s1600/P1020212.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfr13rfA1XhC4hsjSRJOv3HIvEeRpUaqskIptI1ZNg3c_RPAei1i-Gf1ltBFnNylrej8vD0HV5uF7SKYGq40gDYol0nZyVzwa9SMrY25emtvkIv0Ol2KcCzK3Wu63vUoiNe7ZWpudi2lLG/s400/P1020212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662448398602570386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Our trademark tandem float<br /><br /></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJmALPgs5eOhcGIc_BjnZzHRI1toMl9zDcPcIuK7F2xV0imfnsHx80BSCyQsEq_OLaph8GH5-g0dg8H4fh8w8Q3HMTQLjyuy9qwL1xHzntsuUtSTlEt4Uu0cLpv8MqhB1v4Ck885m1NsjM/s1600/DSC02578.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJmALPgs5eOhcGIc_BjnZzHRI1toMl9zDcPcIuK7F2xV0imfnsHx80BSCyQsEq_OLaph8GH5-g0dg8H4fh8w8Q3HMTQLjyuy9qwL1xHzntsuUtSTlEt4Uu0cLpv8MqhB1v4Ck885m1NsjM/s400/DSC02578.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662422360060980562" border="0" /></a><br />We set the destination on the GPS and I continued to marvel at the roadside views along the way. Then I noticed how high up in the mountains we were! Upon our arrival we first stopped at the gas station and I checked out the 'tourist board?' with some information about the town. We proceeded to drive slowly down tiny streets as I soaked it all up and exclaimed my already overused word, 'wow!' many times more. Although so old and crumbling, it was so beautiful with the bright sun casting shadows in the streets and the tiny houses side by side along the angled roads. It didn't take long to do a loop of the whole town, complete with 1 church, 1 piazza, and 2 bars.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dw-Qci_VOIE7YR3ECyfRmdnk2elwqmbHqJe5k6qesE5TB5Utp4LIYKvCc4u5tc3q8g4ztvvfDuDNo0eADr0gA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div>We parked the car and entered into the first bar, buying popsicles as we were eyed up by the 3 customers and bartender. Giuseppe casually explained our situation as we paid and asked if they knew anyone with the last names 'Cardamone' (my great grandfather) or 'Masi' (my great grandmother). The men hummed and hawed a bit and said that the mayor's last name was Masi (confirming the information I had read on the internet) and he lived down the street over there, gesturing, and then there was a man named Cardamone but he died some time ago. We thanked them and took a seat out front, watching the life of the 800 person town unfold with it's funny characters, it seemed like right out of a Fellini movie!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9tSvvzwh5T5AxTgF8eOFgW8IQq5urXIsz_CBI2YpubJoGLHOJyG2Af_afM33rV3EMbiRp_8qSlax3GsPqagVs4ni5HpgXXsHpuCLpDhEukJawKWjXkXdVhAbTTAMDUNe4kb-343_7zmb/s1600/DSC02595.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9tSvvzwh5T5AxTgF8eOFgW8IQq5urXIsz_CBI2YpubJoGLHOJyG2Af_afM33rV3EMbiRp_8qSlax3GsPqagVs4ni5HpgXXsHpuCLpDhEukJawKWjXkXdVhAbTTAMDUNe4kb-343_7zmb/s400/DSC02595.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662425091222621442" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSi5tNbhWLwzBXjTSqNfZ4VPbWq1MeRkhG4-HTlZ8CPuESiG_XmZ_HbffXGpwTpajsyCHPhBf9XxPb4ePkp6y-67Gj52FV565eMqdffXpWCPF9fJIhrSn_z6KjSbYZJyjZK8eMI0nPikgT/s1600/DSC02594.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSi5tNbhWLwzBXjTSqNfZ4VPbWq1MeRkhG4-HTlZ8CPuESiG_XmZ_HbffXGpwTpajsyCHPhBf9XxPb4ePkp6y-67Gj52FV565eMqdffXpWCPF9fJIhrSn_z6KjSbYZJyjZK8eMI0nPikgT/s400/DSC02594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662422372900803362" border="0" /></a><br />Giuseppe and I chuckled discreetly and finished our popsicles before making a tour on foot through the piazza and a loop around to visit the church, no doubt where my great grandparents were married. After exiting the church we peeked around the corner where the other bar was; the tables out front completely packed out with old men playing cards. Giuseppe asked jokingly if I wanted another gelato but after thinking about it for a minute I said yes, let's go! Nearly all the town's inhabitants were there, despite the intimidation factor, I figured somebody must know some relatives of my great grandparents.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu9tSvvzwh5T5AxTgF8eOFgW8IQq5urXIsz_CBI2YpubJoGLHOJyG2Af_afM33rV3EMbiRp_8qSlax3GsPqagVs4ni5HpgXXsHpuCLpDhEukJawKWjXkXdVhAbTTAMDUNe4kb-343_7zmb/s1600/DSC02595.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSi5tNbhWLwzBXjTSqNfZ4VPbWq1MeRkhG4-HTlZ8CPuESiG_XmZ_HbffXGpwTpajsyCHPhBf9XxPb4ePkp6y-67Gj52FV565eMqdffXpWCPF9fJIhrSn_z6KjSbYZJyjZK8eMI0nPikgT/s1600/DSC02594.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7N6q8w3EaqLtwH5CgLPdshJ34mEzaqyp3sXt6c5kbHquicwWCEYjqXZjZCRFS2uqaiAef2-rsa09DwhItxyZ8KaH82tBKG0Ckqghq68_kkgDbfo124D1kFQbghZlqt3hULr6CNyVMBmH/s1600/DSC02597.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf7N6q8w3EaqLtwH5CgLPdshJ34mEzaqyp3sXt6c5kbHquicwWCEYjqXZjZCRFS2uqaiAef2-rsa09DwhItxyZ8KaH82tBKG0Ckqghq68_kkgDbfo124D1kFQbghZlqt3hULr6CNyVMBmH/s400/DSC02597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662422387074722866" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUHHqVrEJ51ZNgcXSxsNDlA9wgvgR9rtRmfuPRfFcz70qRwoZBOhzruYyawUgqvVSEw3FTleSmHcC5tfOEIzC5SojKjq-Q89aF4Yi1Ud6ZNj39-zCIN7mRSEFFOwgzHnBJ5Kqx8mya31c/s1600/DSC02611.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUHHqVrEJ51ZNgcXSxsNDlA9wgvgR9rtRmfuPRfFcz70qRwoZBOhzruYyawUgqvVSEw3FTleSmHcC5tfOEIzC5SojKjq-Q89aF4Yi1Ud6ZNj39-zCIN7mRSEFFOwgzHnBJ5Kqx8mya31c/s400/DSC02611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662425124893245922" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrz_ebzjRvSK6GMDjxn0vV2B2apWLR_BxAWZscqWGcKVz_wY8UY60K8dTDQJwufwjedsa6d9rWhdvDgwO-wG_Qp2kDwtAKMmJBcv8ncX0b_xwJ7QRi5LeAMCSE2wEOeSZfW5NvxEDLWViq/s1600/DSC02609.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrz_ebzjRvSK6GMDjxn0vV2B2apWLR_BxAWZscqWGcKVz_wY8UY60K8dTDQJwufwjedsa6d9rWhdvDgwO-wG_Qp2kDwtAKMmJBcv8ncX0b_xwJ7QRi5LeAMCSE2wEOeSZfW5NvxEDLWViq/s400/DSC02609.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662425106138675458" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESsOMhrMTVex7cf1CkwDT2HxLwxjoKCD0TrC6eXu4cnt0BmeiEbIKRoUysk39j4WHamthclwnIVG5pA93kOqhg8sYmZf6iJieSU4BYa-ciWNrieNr7MnlCY2m_jB4MdMC-F2X6meyWpSv/s1600/DSC02592.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESsOMhrMTVex7cf1CkwDT2HxLwxjoKCD0TrC6eXu4cnt0BmeiEbIKRoUysk39j4WHamthclwnIVG5pA93kOqhg8sYmZf6iJieSU4BYa-ciWNrieNr7MnlCY2m_jB4MdMC-F2X6meyWpSv/s400/DSC02592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662425103078415138" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRpXOK1wFdMJ3zIiCcvQcdfUF-1lr04ShsUvspPeCuhzcYFL4vO7D21t5iGlp3RxfemXFKZ1N3sHHkhvF8yOnhQH-Uj4h6ka4iEFzAnFgq0DpKNffjf8ZP0rLjCDGdN-VNS5MrrcYWGXi/s1600/DSC02596.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRpXOK1wFdMJ3zIiCcvQcdfUF-1lr04ShsUvspPeCuhzcYFL4vO7D21t5iGlp3RxfemXFKZ1N3sHHkhvF8yOnhQH-Uj4h6ka4iEFzAnFgq0DpKNffjf8ZP0rLjCDGdN-VNS5MrrcYWGXi/s400/DSC02596.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662425094103000306" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">A posting with the first name of my great grandpa and the last name of my great grandma, which Giuseppe told me after was a posting for a funeral memorial. Oops, kinda rude.</span><br /></div><br />So we bravely entered as all the men paused their games to watch us. We picked out another set of popsicles and again upon paying Giuseppe inquired casually as to the last names of my great grandparents. Again some humming and hawing pursued among the eavesdroppers and then one man piped up and said that he knew a man with the last name of Cardamone who died 7 years ago, although the wife still lived here. He offered to take us to her house and we graciously accepted after he assured us it was nearby.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfgpIVQ-XIL5w2Uhov8fLKO76KFddFVXIXWsdmhQoPs4s9DXXdkSgO9sMomYPHS7WvFeBLwPcQhbm-tzJQqIpbjIjhxqv6t6YIw3vvlsN7cm4okhLVBzraru6EPKG9PDBeLe1sUoUyKIm/s1600/DSC02613.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfgpIVQ-XIL5w2Uhov8fLKO76KFddFVXIXWsdmhQoPs4s9DXXdkSgO9sMomYPHS7WvFeBLwPcQhbm-tzJQqIpbjIjhxqv6t6YIw3vvlsN7cm4okhLVBzraru6EPKG9PDBeLe1sUoUyKIm/s400/DSC02613.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662428868777798418" border="0" /></a><br />We chatted with the man as he led us to the old lady's door and upon greeting her and explaining the situation, she remained rather confused as she didn't seem to know anything about her husband's side of the family. That didn't keep her from inviting us inside to eat something though. We politely declined and thanked her and then followed the man to another person's house who had known this Cardamone. Unfortunately there was nobody home but as we continued back to the main piazza I felt content knowing that we had at least tried and I'd have a little story to tell my family back home.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim32NlvbZu15TNmv2FfkKWYj4Edhec8z1-jfimwndrz2Wzi6UbxDOo110fmAcVMFgRipreBuih8Q-eqddL9Z8b01q6gATz2KElhs68fO_d4hQXRFKbfpVd_AyFz0_9OMRIuVrxKl0aIJR9/s1600/DSC02614.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim32NlvbZu15TNmv2FfkKWYj4Edhec8z1-jfimwndrz2Wzi6UbxDOo110fmAcVMFgRipreBuih8Q-eqddL9Z8b01q6gATz2KElhs68fO_d4hQXRFKbfpVd_AyFz0_9OMRIuVrxKl0aIJR9/s400/DSC02614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662428874335313714" border="0" /></a><br />We thanked the man for helping and in true small town spirit, he thought nothing of it and even wanted to buy us a drink at the bar, but we insisted that instead we'd like to buy HIM a drink, which he refused. However he explained that he presently had a nephew visiting from Canada who was going crazy because he doesn't speak much italian and there was nothing for him to do there. If we wanted, he said, we could come to his father's house where his nephew was, and talk to him a little bit in english, it would make him so happy, he said. We agreed and followed him on his moped (I wish I could remember his name, I think Andrea..?).<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHplo2z77wjXjc52mRrgcmmHPx9mZphot_6aWeBCnjpglGfIA08UET2wAgDzLlnOxp-zgymhHt1hoF_mUVnKbx6RA3HTcdjywIfgi7W0C26GlqEqakaZl4rWWJP0oHxWBqcBhT8WoDCbIC/s1600/DSC02621.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjnF5QeCWdv6KCaZevRQCMf1Kr5EV2DyB0-zkVGvXWrRNTC3epeNEv0I3Q1bM1mLJkbRCbAPWbMXNObaKbdXYn5-2g0y39yPGfDzi1Qfxl33gJwlCmhx831aM5ZRUMI5IMFxj7jqLJELT0/s1600/DSC02615.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjnF5QeCWdv6KCaZevRQCMf1Kr5EV2DyB0-zkVGvXWrRNTC3epeNEv0I3Q1bM1mLJkbRCbAPWbMXNObaKbdXYn5-2g0y39yPGfDzi1Qfxl33gJwlCmhx831aM5ZRUMI5IMFxj7jqLJELT0/s400/DSC02615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662428881614486002" border="0" /></a>When we arrived and the nephew came out, a young guy from Vancouver, the man explained the situation and immediately the guy turned to me and said "You speak english? Give me a hug!" and he hugged me joyously. I chatted with him in english while the man's parents and daughter came out and chatted with Giuseppe in italian. Then the man's father interrupted suddenly to tell me that many years ago he had bought a peice of land with olive trees, which used to belong to my great grandfather, Agostino Cardamone! In Italy a contract for property contains the names of many previous owners, not just the most recent one, so he had recognized this name upon hearing it from Giuseppe. Quite a coincidence and some news that I knew my family would be happy to hear.<br /><br />Before completing our trip back to Acri, we thanked them all and on the remaining drive we proceeded to laugh about the little adventure we had experienced in the town. I would soon have the pleasure of hearing Giuseppe repeat the story many times in dialect and in his very entertaining way, to his family and friends whenever the subject came up. In this way I started to be able to understand the dialect more, since I knew the subject and the events, I was able to follow along and make sense of the phrases.<br /><br />This made me so happy because although Giuseppe has lived in Florence for over 5 years, he's truly 100% calabrese (as the t-shirts we saw for sale in Tropea stated. I joked that I needed one that said 25% Calabrese) at heart. The different regions of Italy are surprisingly quite distinct and it doesn't take any italian long to recognize Giuseppe as Calabrian, not just because of his name, the quintessential calabrian name, or the manner in which he speaks regular italian with his calabrian accent, but most importantly, his warm, funny, generous character. Seeing him in his world and being able to understand more when he spoke in dialect made me feel like I got to know him on another level.<br /><br />That evening we passed through the main piazza of his town, San Giacomo di Acri, a population of around 6000, where he introduced me to and caught up with some old friends and relatives while I watched the young girls doing dance routines in the center. I also met an old friend of Giuseppe's who's from Boston, but lived in the town every summer with relatives while he was a teenager and hence learned the dialect of the region perfectly (although he doesn't speak normal italian at all). I was surprised to hear this because he spoke english with a really heavy boston accent, I thought he might have that boston accent on top of his dialect too! Anyway, he ended up marrying a girl from the town and now they live together in Boston and have a baby daughter. I talked to his wife about her experience and adjustment to life in America, not easy, but she said they were happy there for now although she was SO glad to be home for a visit! No kidding.<br /><br />The next day was a sad one, as Alessio's case had worsened, and all the family gathered for support at the hospital in Cosenza. We spent all day there amongst massive heat, and felt so bad for Tony and Jolanda as different information was passed down. The baby had died, due to a problem in the brain, but they were keeping the tissues alive for the possibility of donation. As the adoption process takes a number of months to be finalized, it wasn't totally in their power to grant permission for organ donation and they had to await some sector of the government to confirm. How excruciating for them. The loss of their beloved baby followed by this waiting period and trying to make sense of all that had happened. It was told later that the baby had likely been born with some degree of brain damage and it had developed into this fatal problem. Once we were back in Florence the following week, Giuseppe and I attended the funeral for Alessio, another sad day, and afterward accompanied Tony and Jolanda, with her mother visiting from Spain and another cousin of theirs, Giorgio, back to their apartment to keep them company.<br /><br />After returning from the hospital and getting cleaned up and fed, we felt renewed enough to make the most out of our last night in Calabria, and Giuseppe took me to the beachfront area in Corigliano. He showed me the pizza place where he'd worked in the summers as a teenager, and we stopped at one of the bars for a drink before seating ourselves in the sand beside the sea and watching the moonlit waves wash in. On the way back to the car, Giuseppe couldn't resist the place selling croissants stuffed with gelato and I enviously watched him devour it. Ciccione! (Fatty!) Okay I admit, this cicciona had a bite too despite her intolerances :P<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Rf8IylQs1qNQnk50lFjC6uzP2aD6BpEyynIg7HnCQhA4uz-WsaffNPl7yWe_y3a8nQ7ZDfRGWsipeTSLkWn2eoRTaFxEZZDTWeiC1sFYlUt8ncRJCUl9ds9aGOFf57W1LZRul2XOC3sd/s1600/DSC02624.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Rf8IylQs1qNQnk50lFjC6uzP2aD6BpEyynIg7HnCQhA4uz-WsaffNPl7yWe_y3a8nQ7ZDfRGWsipeTSLkWn2eoRTaFxEZZDTWeiC1sFYlUt8ncRJCUl9ds9aGOFf57W1LZRul2XOC3sd/s400/DSC02624.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662428901089361890" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHplo2z77wjXjc52mRrgcmmHPx9mZphot_6aWeBCnjpglGfIA08UET2wAgDzLlnOxp-zgymhHt1hoF_mUVnKbx6RA3HTcdjywIfgi7W0C26GlqEqakaZl4rWWJP0oHxWBqcBhT8WoDCbIC/s1600/DSC02621.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHplo2z77wjXjc52mRrgcmmHPx9mZphot_6aWeBCnjpglGfIA08UET2wAgDzLlnOxp-zgymhHt1hoF_mUVnKbx6RA3HTcdjywIfgi7W0C26GlqEqakaZl4rWWJP0oHxWBqcBhT8WoDCbIC/s400/DSC02621.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662428887378914210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next day we slept in really late before starting to pack. I was catching up on some emails when I was gifted a lovely bracelet from Veronica and a notebook and pen engraved with the letter 'J' from Giuseppe's mom, along with a bottle of liquirizia (liquor made of the highest grade of calabrian liqorice) and a bowl and apron with maps of calabria to take to my mom. How sweet of them! After dinner and some pictures and a quick goodbye and thank you to mamma Cecilia, we were waiting at the bus stop for the bus that would drive all night and take us all the way to Florence. It showed up almost an hour late but we got our bags packed in and I said my goodbye and thank you to papa` Raffaele and a see you soon to Veronica, who would be staying a few more days before making her journey back to Pisa.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqSyArGoyBXeKtv5SjVUTVPsiZz7qLI9EdSZ81B7TZAgL7_gkfyCpWOx14NRehfS7_syVKf29BQFMBjlj0PWNvtlsjnIqeinnXlv_8rbW-6ePg0POUdnClJ5XhiSASvX4Epre_hyphenhyphenZ4dKC/s1600/DSC02625.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqSyArGoyBXeKtv5SjVUTVPsiZz7qLI9EdSZ81B7TZAgL7_gkfyCpWOx14NRehfS7_syVKf29BQFMBjlj0PWNvtlsjnIqeinnXlv_8rbW-6ePg0POUdnClJ5XhiSASvX4Epre_hyphenhyphenZ4dKC/s400/DSC02625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662431914192348882" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I was a little nervous about the long trip but it proved to be not as difficult as I was preparing myself for. Giuseppe and I watched a movie on my laptop after my first attempt to show him an episode of my favorite show as a kid, pee wee's playhouse, resulted in embarrassment as to what the other passengers might think if they caught a glimpse. He made me turn it off haha! I also ended up turning off the movie prematurely because mr.embarrassed dozed off.<br /><br />We took turns with my travel pillow, waking up when the bus stopped for bathroom breaks at the gas station convenience store/caffe chain called Autogrill. These spots brought back memories from my trip to Italy in high school when we covered all the ground, from Verona to Sorrento, in a tour bus and made frequent pitstops at these infamous Autogrills. I remembered our fun guide, Mario, who called me white mountain, or pink mountain (the names of the italian mountains in the north) depending which color of bandana I wore on my head that day. Yes had a keen sense of style even in high school;)<br /><br />Finally we pulled into Florence at 7:30 am and groggily descending the bus I was excited and amazed that we'd made it. I felt like we were home! Back to familiar territory. We got our bus tickets and didn't have to wait long for the city bus to arrive. We loaded up our luggage, including one extra suitcase packed by Giuseppe's mom, exclusively of food. In 10 minutes we were at Giuseppe's house and after a meal and a nap, we got cleaned up and headed to the center for a walk through the beautiful and streets and sights of Florence, places that held many memories for us over our past months together, including the door of the duomo, where we'd met for the first time:) That evening we also jetted over to scusamario for some salsa, the same place he'd taken me the night before I left, where I cried on the grass. I felt so overjoyed and grateful to be back.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNA0G8wgSz6d-IzXpO10p8tduqhp0mVelPg4wRV41mqLfI0-CTu5xOo044Tp8j26AtZG0zt_PGaTa2JGKMmPBIHPp4rSTNHR3ZxmeKulRCg_rzVnVLPSNaSs02NS-bkAv9gw3DeJU0zL4/s1600/DSC02630.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNNA0G8wgSz6d-IzXpO10p8tduqhp0mVelPg4wRV41mqLfI0-CTu5xOo044Tp8j26AtZG0zt_PGaTa2JGKMmPBIHPp4rSTNHR3ZxmeKulRCg_rzVnVLPSNaSs02NS-bkAv9gw3DeJU0zL4/s400/DSC02630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662431947302151810" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2leGROLyMe_cFgD2jyRZgmYwUigXafy5tv-oyMip2TIKsV0UHM0x-J5lUYhhE4ra6mUPCBqJad8xHzsLHtPOPp_Ag_1EVw-_WjUsRaRX7S4LHwpdJp-ykePEL0I0b4vV60dUYMbT0-J0X/s1600/DSC02629.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2leGROLyMe_cFgD2jyRZgmYwUigXafy5tv-oyMip2TIKsV0UHM0x-J5lUYhhE4ra6mUPCBqJad8xHzsLHtPOPp_Ag_1EVw-_WjUsRaRX7S4LHwpdJp-ykePEL0I0b4vV60dUYMbT0-J0X/s400/DSC02629.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662431929233612210" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinN9aKF8bd8BAu2GGgwrqvQqLBob8q1QL2gyL9uuaZCTfS35BYXahxjRaOK47dQxoGvlFlhLbQSimCvajFkJoBz2K3UEUZNTtgXOkCRDJ2XBbafI9ID1r-rgfVTPf4nqzjQbxlq0u9AeTy/s1600/DSC02634.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinN9aKF8bd8BAu2GGgwrqvQqLBob8q1QL2gyL9uuaZCTfS35BYXahxjRaOK47dQxoGvlFlhLbQSimCvajFkJoBz2K3UEUZNTtgXOkCRDJ2XBbafI9ID1r-rgfVTPf4nqzjQbxlq0u9AeTy/s400/DSC02634.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662449738916423346" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Giuseppe's apartment building</span><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpt8vxAzB5yvsyB_pDvP__ittlo4_pz2xx5TpWE4Xovl9tyZ1APzJQDC1KKmoWtpFPOWY8cuSxa4sM2EwgQB1krKwugmC_nCcZv61Lp_nbhZDY4nDvoP2pXyyE8fl9ndXspwBaLOVMafb_/s1600/P1020100.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeeVdPA3q_SWoUyAALWC3gbefSuQ3YzXA4aL1SAVVfFqQV0K4LyJE9u7oJhfT0TKGo314QDIkAbKSuCE6j7Jj2v6ITD_s5pMXxXR8s8FdVpIUyFb9DmnngtVfsIELkc4_7CWgzljhJMUoz/s1600/DSC02632.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeeVdPA3q_SWoUyAALWC3gbefSuQ3YzXA4aL1SAVVfFqQV0K4LyJE9u7oJhfT0TKGo314QDIkAbKSuCE6j7Jj2v6ITD_s5pMXxXR8s8FdVpIUyFb9DmnngtVfsIELkc4_7CWgzljhJMUoz/s400/DSC02632.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662431953285604642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />In the following days Giuseppe was back at work and I had some work of my own to do on my dance card illustration project which became a little difficult when his apartment turned into a sauna in the afternoons. It was regularly 40 degrees in Florence (that's without humidity factored in) and air conditioning is highly uncommon. I didn't mind so much as I always prefer hot to cold but as I was banned from suntanning on the balcony in my bathing suit (after Giuseppe woke up late one saturday surprised to find me in such a state and had to explain to me that it's not considered appropriate in Italy, despite my objections), sometimes I needed an escape in the afternoons so I'd go to the grocery stores or the park nearby, La Cascine, where there's a huge market on tuesdays, or to the center to meet some friends or walk around. Once I got the tire filled up on his old bike and the rusty lock cut off (all it cost was a smile and some patience for the old men in the bicycle shop), I was so pleased to be liberated from the buses and also enjoyed regular rides in the cascine park.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUV7fHNWAOfd5bbjlZbR6LBna_IKSugwysMk0qQ0q0SMI88M-ctBgq9bbYc8oOoB1h26XXNfj7RWn9azdEKNsoxMwuw3_haGY1eNIPt0dEDDleTq4Sirp0FtpjoOnRlVrHmSXyDd-lzVs/s1600/DSC02711.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUV7fHNWAOfd5bbjlZbR6LBna_IKSugwysMk0qQ0q0SMI88M-ctBgq9bbYc8oOoB1h26XXNfj7RWn9azdEKNsoxMwuw3_haGY1eNIPt0dEDDleTq4Sirp0FtpjoOnRlVrHmSXyDd-lzVs/s400/DSC02711.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662453975766070146" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2leGROLyMe_cFgD2jyRZgmYwUigXafy5tv-oyMip2TIKsV0UHM0x-J5lUYhhE4ra6mUPCBqJad8xHzsLHtPOPp_Ag_1EVw-_WjUsRaRX7S4LHwpdJp-ykePEL0I0b4vV60dUYMbT0-J0X/s1600/DSC02629.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggqR2LCMTGmuxl6yGcTEEjn0ioO7GcpJCSdTDddTcXPyDjJZmjDo5960318xG0EBxaMVlzyP-mOUTQLhkPJ5VvXKfXyR4xjk1hCFfauiP4ME4VsnyvmGRwtVl_m6WkgOPHXNdZcLN5ps5z/s1600/DSC02648.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggqR2LCMTGmuxl6yGcTEEjn0ioO7GcpJCSdTDddTcXPyDjJZmjDo5960318xG0EBxaMVlzyP-mOUTQLhkPJ5VvXKfXyR4xjk1hCFfauiP4ME4VsnyvmGRwtVl_m6WkgOPHXNdZcLN5ps5z/s400/DSC02648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662449761307678386" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRenJtAUtFEYiViTJWOUX-2Tlt8lfiiyQYw6UtCdtdNCU-ZYAlaKy5zcUO99eP23Gx1CCl0536gDWyiu5ccKPCSSMSADyFkVslvxZ3NJ3aqzNUHf9SxQoA2WBVUIAgcoTMj6c3_cqKiFSS/s1600/DSC02710.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRenJtAUtFEYiViTJWOUX-2Tlt8lfiiyQYw6UtCdtdNCU-ZYAlaKy5zcUO99eP23Gx1CCl0536gDWyiu5ccKPCSSMSADyFkVslvxZ3NJ3aqzNUHf9SxQoA2WBVUIAgcoTMj6c3_cqKiFSS/s400/DSC02710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662453964428309922" border="0" /></a><br />Within a few days of being back in Florence I was super happy to meet up with my american friend, Sally, who had also just arrived back from a trip to the united states followed by a trip to Puglia (the "heel" region of the boot in italy) with her boyfriend, Piero, to visit his family. I met her and some friends at a restaurant and we caught each other up on our lives over the past 6 weeks, including trading stories of our experiences in the south of italy, and we ended up in the usual spot, Piazza Santo Spirito near my old apartment. I also met my old language exchange partner, Daniele, a few times in the center where we chatted only in italian this time as he insisted he was on vacation from english. Unfortunately I missed seeing my cousin Martinho, who had left for Portugal the day I came back from Calabria (although I had just seen him in Calgary a few weeks prior!), and Valentina, my italian tutor, who'd be arriving in Florence the day before I left for Canada, but she was so surprised and happy when she received my phone call and I told her that I was back in Italy.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2G6Jqx9DKdZPbxKb7rMgeH5-VWwY1d3fBUI5x7IAmOk-57NC0rNR2poKd2G6aF9H-1RTTcPu1r4TxusxJtGHI5SFkiHUTz0GlzThzSLvVowPrc5IRcZLoSs3yGDTqH0vgCI_-lbN3uwgb/s1600/DSC02641.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2G6Jqx9DKdZPbxKb7rMgeH5-VWwY1d3fBUI5x7IAmOk-57NC0rNR2poKd2G6aF9H-1RTTcPu1r4TxusxJtGHI5SFkiHUTz0GlzThzSLvVowPrc5IRcZLoSs3yGDTqH0vgCI_-lbN3uwgb/s400/DSC02641.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662449744361700242" border="0" /></a>With his long hours at work, we were both always happy to see each other at the end of the day when he got home and we tried to make the most of our evenings together. One evening while walking around the center deciding where to go, we came across a young dance crew in Piazza del Mercato Nuovo, who were tearing up the pavement in ways I don't think florence has ever seen before. My eyes were glued and we watched their whole performance which combined different styles of hiphop, breakdance, poppin and lockin, tap, and freestyle. They had some really original choreography and I loved how the girl members of the group would faceoff with the guy members. The girls were all sass and the guys all strength, it was so fun!<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxgjBbtazuIi75065cW6SXYvObH4gWUx2SFvUY9pappZxbkJ6sJ3wUTIvy_6GKW66ESSy5AAF7gqB3ZwWyf5Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The lighting isn't so great but you get the idea!<br /></span><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzvwqGiP3yCt2HkyVsOX3fmeyDcvtZq6wR2-1_o3nbE-k-81ilgFJsXrsN79GYo5ubtPYRmwZ0YCybDA72z_w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Jennie/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Jennie/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /></div>Other evenings were filled with concerts at the fortezza, another night of salsa at scusamario where we did a lesson of chacha before the regular dancing started, dancing at a bar with a group of polish travelers, mexican dinner on a beach beside the river with Giuseppe's friends Tomasso and Madelina and another night with the lovely couple at the stylish club Manduca for an apertivo and dancing. Another night on the weekend I met up with a group of entertaining american ladies and a swedish woman, who were going out for cocktails and had heard from Sally that I was back. Giuseppe met up with us a little later that evening and we had a nice time on a terrace in the San Niccolo` neighborhood.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwlWIrvw0MKC5SBCSKCdOAIztuEJ8r00aLs3f4pNbl3Su_XzoJLu3ISjmrIo74tWLJs-xX4H9HUV6QubRZxHyXXckc3Iw9y3yWe7Nuc3UlVX-lvNeTwfjU3Nrt0HJiF8zA-PFuMsW9BgH/s1600/DSC02647.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwlWIrvw0MKC5SBCSKCdOAIztuEJ8r00aLs3f4pNbl3Su_XzoJLu3ISjmrIo74tWLJs-xX4H9HUV6QubRZxHyXXckc3Iw9y3yWe7Nuc3UlVX-lvNeTwfjU3Nrt0HJiF8zA-PFuMsW9BgH/s400/DSC02647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662449758211471746" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3FFPfUWHMCfbUclImoZPbiJYVD-NUeR7nlPG9Ka2BoKrYuM8svUTCg-z-0Gu6matE1E7FHmYq6mr9CEFR_Hka3YvHl2BQjgV9MeUTGrWIbrbIQLQGqStaCIHK-ReT37jcJIarG44nXB3/s1600/DSCN0367.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3FFPfUWHMCfbUclImoZPbiJYVD-NUeR7nlPG9Ka2BoKrYuM8svUTCg-z-0Gu6matE1E7FHmYq6mr9CEFR_Hka3YvHl2BQjgV9MeUTGrWIbrbIQLQGqStaCIHK-ReT37jcJIarG44nXB3/s400/DSCN0367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662457202721439538" border="0" /></a><br />One evening we made a point to hit up Pizzaman across the street from Giuseppe's apartment for their awesome gluten free pizza, of which my usual was the pasquale, with tomatoes and basil. On our way out, upon seeing a friend of Giuseppe's from work (also named Giuseppe, he's from Calabria;) we stopped to chat with him and then made it all the way back to his apartment where I was about to thank him for dinner before realizing that neither he nor I had paid the bill! We hurried back and set things straight, having to explain the situation to friend Giuseppe as we made our second exit.<br /><br />Another set of evenings we spent with friends of Giuseppe's family from their town in Calabria, who were in Florence to find an apartment for their daughter, Alessia, before university started. We chatted and went for walks and stopped for obligatory summer evening gelatos. Also, as luck would have it, and as we were rapidly consuming the ingredients in the first load, they brought us another suitcase full of garden fresh food from Giuseppe's mom:) We cooked many amazing meals together and thought of creative ways to eat the huge quantity of tomatoes at our disposal.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWBvAcaSrI2sPLQ8nLnPiYRATSSFwzvSbsM9am2tdJI5GBEVPjwANURxTPIS78wnoNqTGgF3pZZBO3iOJSacXdWH27VHH0kdmryXDfrku3fh2ECfdZgnvB_BgjGZhzGVUdgLUJUc9pcY6/s1600/DSC02664.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWBvAcaSrI2sPLQ8nLnPiYRATSSFwzvSbsM9am2tdJI5GBEVPjwANURxTPIS78wnoNqTGgF3pZZBO3iOJSacXdWH27VHH0kdmryXDfrku3fh2ECfdZgnvB_BgjGZhzGVUdgLUJUc9pcY6/s400/DSC02664.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662452047999970322" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyCumpzR3x96pz1vSMJOCZGvPHiwJJ0Di8oGbv_VytiYnou6l94yvC7Kf-GE-vwcdnLmKHashp0BYwlPzkvlmFlgZnpKSul-QTVV67zeH_nUazn94NpYxwixecNTw06ams4Q6OAoumCA97/s1600/DSC02666.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyCumpzR3x96pz1vSMJOCZGvPHiwJJ0Di8oGbv_VytiYnou6l94yvC7Kf-GE-vwcdnLmKHashp0BYwlPzkvlmFlgZnpKSul-QTVV67zeH_nUazn94NpYxwixecNTw06ams4Q6OAoumCA97/s400/DSC02666.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662452058319617506" border="0" /></a>Weekends also included a picnic at La Cascine park (where Giuseppe slept the afternoon away despite his intentions to go into work), hiking the trails in Fiesole, and on the final weekend, a pool party at his friend Silvia's parent's villa near Pistoia followed by the medieval festival in the town down the road. We all ate dinner medieval style, the plates included cinghiale (wild boar) and sausage with beans, and were entertained by the theatrics and performances in the streets. I couldn't resist buying a crown of flowers for sale in the streets which has since cemented my other nickname from Giuseppe (other than pazza (crazy)), which is principessa (princess) :)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3IYUq51ci2iE4NxwPEvd3F6SQiF93xg2xGjSYjj-CVSl6c4yANp3iq4AaOVga55OSJWvwDbVM0EmDGoa3uncO4mw6ElMqxTx51tAL81GuYgUIEBJ2LBptxwuRhBwCRmVrn7u_6V_mn40/s1600/DSC02652.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3IYUq51ci2iE4NxwPEvd3F6SQiF93xg2xGjSYjj-CVSl6c4yANp3iq4AaOVga55OSJWvwDbVM0EmDGoa3uncO4mw6ElMqxTx51tAL81GuYgUIEBJ2LBptxwuRhBwCRmVrn7u_6V_mn40/s400/DSC02652.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662452031087736898" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3IYUq51ci2iE4NxwPEvd3F6SQiF93xg2xGjSYjj-CVSl6c4yANp3iq4AaOVga55OSJWvwDbVM0EmDGoa3uncO4mw6ElMqxTx51tAL81GuYgUIEBJ2LBptxwuRhBwCRmVrn7u_6V_mn40/s1600/DSC02652.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRic1DeywY8egDkJrWBFZZCWqDxoqZ8C8yAs8ermopYZHIN3riL73xax0lDHrLmtemM_L-uaQolGcj3KZZxY5BqIkVxtuQqImiCgEPfKQ4SPxgHhSFUUDSHwKbJ8AX8OeW7k0KXYQ1-kRd/s1600/DSC02649.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRic1DeywY8egDkJrWBFZZCWqDxoqZ8C8yAs8ermopYZHIN3riL73xax0lDHrLmtemM_L-uaQolGcj3KZZxY5BqIkVxtuQqImiCgEPfKQ4SPxgHhSFUUDSHwKbJ8AX8OeW7k0KXYQ1-kRd/s400/DSC02649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662452027389623362" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTXpA2FwNnuyy9wq7-w4A6y6fEGrFMkjzbvpaMX09jcE3fAp-KKOPhWuKuongtRTzrs4I10PY85QFVgr7o6EHpnc6Q6dS111lyKTgPv8gngQCg4tZGAWZe4GyWuvMGI60QeR3vQVFmVVr/s1600/DSC02651.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTXpA2FwNnuyy9wq7-w4A6y6fEGrFMkjzbvpaMX09jcE3fAp-KKOPhWuKuongtRTzrs4I10PY85QFVgr7o6EHpnc6Q6dS111lyKTgPv8gngQCg4tZGAWZe4GyWuvMGI60QeR3vQVFmVVr/s400/DSC02651.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662458058347299106" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-zBiXjXzGiVzMaGFD9FZH7MduSmUnHz4mVWb-mM4cndgM7kaZZlvzaNoRCoQY31s0LmHUornIPYe8oaflOQ1M94dsQTU0SAtW8FrXx8Tno6SdEEurk-CyutnA2CKan6PeUNM7K7EQbSxs/s1600/DSCN0374.JPG"><img style="display: block; 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margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIEgAGIh22BGsRBwFB9eVO1slANm5yBVSP0hped_Sp-118R8Jy_w-nw9VZ0QOkKVxp-QpRm-AXcxtQPqdw6gztE29dscqOW6tnMehsArFi77OJStZCpP_CqllO0E2oWfi1CNCzNdJpyIG/s400/DSC02726.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662453979768057858" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-dyd6SHmcciL7kpGkT-X6Ewys5ZCzWSg9ivJOi8ssp79YzE8Vzw8BWHVF1nvg7JvSJbtCCUI_f7CMPxQjMtxQPYFJIOZXtJDwamQ9mrkLGNTIrxW6hKqJMVm2tFyJIhbQej17x5V7g5e/s1600/DSC02733.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-dyd6SHmcciL7kpGkT-X6Ewys5ZCzWSg9ivJOi8ssp79YzE8Vzw8BWHVF1nvg7JvSJbtCCUI_f7CMPxQjMtxQPYFJIOZXtJDwamQ9mrkLGNTIrxW6hKqJMVm2tFyJIhbQej17x5V7g5e/s400/DSC02733.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662454710171332018" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJkaPTZ-m7QnLjI-SDepwdONb9YdRs5_1qpII8IyETiKh52MrLgdOx9yf8nUgVC0-YlZzuSUpIcXCpwx2uPjgfmHN5ndN7tA6M0xcpDgQslvlPieptL3mG2i1AosJ0sGc11jx2kB53EQ2/s1600/DSC02735.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJkaPTZ-m7QnLjI-SDepwdONb9YdRs5_1qpII8IyETiKh52MrLgdOx9yf8nUgVC0-YlZzuSUpIcXCpwx2uPjgfmHN5ndN7tA6M0xcpDgQslvlPieptL3mG2i1AosJ0sGc11jx2kB53EQ2/s400/DSC02735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662454709391518818" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC-HneybJ-2hQHSKqz4P6PNH35u9KMe-X1wxiIcE5Qiwl3Sxai6tF_aAo6bXoyQ1K5031Jhxcnep4ehAT4E9mbrWK2_WvsHKmni61cXMvRBR52M960VieF_P2RegE13HV_f3mDqnlaZIP/s1600/DSC02744.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC-HneybJ-2hQHSKqz4P6PNH35u9KMe-X1wxiIcE5Qiwl3Sxai6tF_aAo6bXoyQ1K5031Jhxcnep4ehAT4E9mbrWK2_WvsHKmni61cXMvRBR52M960VieF_P2RegE13HV_f3mDqnlaZIP/s400/DSC02744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662454720370954786" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb93kbMrjc_UrzhYjEtSFJimcjehnApDglfYFZfBH_EoiF-An4FBNJjZOTA9uVagdizqTBxrtpKTlJjV4LV2FoXplPKvOdR3eMQruTijs6MndHcU-h7FTWvxr9raXTu89yZro4wMGky_Wj/s1600/DSC02745.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb93kbMrjc_UrzhYjEtSFJimcjehnApDglfYFZfBH_EoiF-An4FBNJjZOTA9uVagdizqTBxrtpKTlJjV4LV2FoXplPKvOdR3eMQruTijs6MndHcU-h7FTWvxr9raXTu89yZro4wMGky_Wj/s400/DSC02745.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662454724777908002" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC-HneybJ-2hQHSKqz4P6PNH35u9KMe-X1wxiIcE5Qiwl3Sxai6tF_aAo6bXoyQ1K5031Jhxcnep4ehAT4E9mbrWK2_WvsHKmni61cXMvRBR52M960VieF_P2RegE13HV_f3mDqnlaZIP/s1600/DSC02744.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRw4bkVFdl_yqv2Ulu70isjJ_qRy0NJsTA5yjXXkyO55H9tDP1T2hgYFn_la0W0uWLmJpi3PgvasEImLciRokg0rqFo8UaQdTuhWPheNcP5FZmmYCnJZXNOz8IKRq2VAOWoq8htkNr2CYN/s1600/DSCN0386.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRw4bkVFdl_yqv2Ulu70isjJ_qRy0NJsTA5yjXXkyO55H9tDP1T2hgYFn_la0W0uWLmJpi3PgvasEImLciRokg0rqFo8UaQdTuhWPheNcP5FZmmYCnJZXNOz8IKRq2VAOWoq8htkNr2CYN/s400/DSCN0386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662458091849697986" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwFzzoRRrjj4mwMVXQLBFa9adheF1k-3GzkDN6cyRDfFSPoFaC6HLXnFiN0ORQ6wXiu9Kf256SlAo5xM-_INQHziqAE6qnZKSz0T3sRCC3N2nQEXfMSgIB6b0vdRrYo9LIdGr0Fu1ZQ57i/s1600/DSCN0390.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwFzzoRRrjj4mwMVXQLBFa9adheF1k-3GzkDN6cyRDfFSPoFaC6HLXnFiN0ORQ6wXiu9Kf256SlAo5xM-_INQHziqAE6qnZKSz0T3sRCC3N2nQEXfMSgIB6b0vdRrYo9LIdGr0Fu1ZQ57i/s400/DSCN0390.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662458090594241266" border="0" /></a><br />While I was in Toronto in August before departing for Italy, Sadaf was telling me about an italian animation studio that she'd found out about, and out of curiosity we looked it up on the internet one day. The studio is near the east coast of Italy by a city named Ancona, around 3 hours on the train from Florence. Surprisingly there were two job ads posted on the site, one for a character designer and one for a storyboard artist, coincidentally the two jobs that I have plenty of experience in. After reading through the criteria it seemed that I was the perfect candidate, and despite my preference to not work in the animation industry, Sadaf encouraged me that maybe it would actually be the best thing to get me going in Italy.<br /><br />I called up my mom and had her fed-ex me my portfolio and hard drive which I'd left at home as I hadn't anticipated needing them, and they arrived a few days before my departure to Italy. Upon arriving in Florence I put together my application, cover letter, reference letter, sample portfolios and sent it all to the email address listed on the website. Then I waited. After 2 weeks my confidence that destiny wanted me to stay in Italy started to wane and I called up the studio to verify that they had received my application. The woman verified the email address I had sent it to but said she couldn't verify that they'd received it but I'd know when I received an email back. I asked if it was possible to visit the studio and she said that no, that only if I was contacted I would be invited to visit. As a last attempt I wrote another email to one of the other email addresses listed explaining that I'd only be in the country for another week and would like to visit, but I've still yet to hear back:/<br /><br />Once the idea of working at an animation studio got in my head, I figured maybe it was worth another shot contacting a studio I knew about in Florence. I had sent them an email in June but, in italian style, never heard back. This time I called in to ask if I could visit and the secretary said, perhaps it was possible, but I needed to write them an email and proceeded to give me the same email address I'd already contacted. Knowing there was little chance I would receive a response, I sent another email anyway, but with my days numbered, I had to take alternate measures.<br /><br />I had found out about this animation studio only because I had stumbled upon the blog of a director who worked there, so I sent an email to his personal email address, and received a response within a number of hours. We arranged a time and before I knew it I was reassembling my portfolio and off to their studio, which was only a block away from the train station. I arrived a little early so I decided to take a walk around the block, and by total chance I stumbled into my friend Sally who was standing out front of the place she happened to be working at that day. After a little chat and good luck wishes from her, I walked back to the animation studio feeling a little more confident and at ease. There were only 4 people working there, the secretary and 3 men, who I proceed to talk to all in italian for the next 40 minutes. I showed them my portfolio, film, and storyboards, to which they were really impressed and said that I was bravissima (brilliant).<br /><br />They asked me many questions and answered mine, explaining how things usually work at their studio. Although I wasn't understanding 100% I did well clarifying and figuring out what they were saying. In the end, they said they'd love to work with me, that is if they had any work to offer me. Things were slow at the moment, and in regular animation studio fashion, when they had work it was last minute notice with intense deadlines. That said, they assured me they'd be in touch if they needed anyone.<br /><br />That same day I'd made an appointment in the afternoon with the man who owned the jazz restaurant, who I'd met when I applied for a job as a waitress and although that never ended up panning out, during the interview he discovered I was an artist and upon seeing my work expressed interest in doing an exhibiton at the restaurant. I'd assembled some of my original paintings that were in Canada as well as some digital prints that I'd had done in an effort to seize this opportunity. He was happy to see me and like the other times, we talked a lot as he looked through my pieces; about art and life and what it takes to succeed.<br /><br />He told me that he'd be willing to start an exhibition right away which could then be moved over to the biennale in december but there were things I needed to do first, most importantly, get the artwork framed. With limited time and budget, I decided it would probably better to go with the possibility of option 2, get the pieces ready in the spring and have the exhibition run all summer, then, as he was offering, he would arrange with his contacts throughout Italy to have the exhibition travel to different cities. I liked this idea and if the collection was to make a tour throughout Italy, I'd definitely like the extra time to put together more of a solid and unified collection of work. So, it was worth the effort and we'll see what might pan out in the spring.<br /><br />Later that day, Veronica arrived from Pisa and we had a short walk in the center before receiving word from Giuseppe that he'd left work. We met him back at home and cooked dinner before heading out again for gelato which was treated to us by Veronica in celebration of her completed exam. I asked if it wouldn't be more appropriate that WE paid to congratulate her but they explained to me that no, in Italy the person celebrating did the buying. For example if you go out on your birthday, you buy for all of your guests! I was surprised at this but then I remembered something that Giuseppe said on his birthday, about wanting to pay for everyone. After gelato we passed by the club at Piazzale Michelangelo, Flo, for a little dancing before bedtime.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggACf1c-6k2NSSYn3fXvA0AaTPpVs9HnFN2rsC7b8PWORckMUwCgv3cPTRowTUP61DTOEKwUv8-507v5YF8I5UJsREiQQ888X7qX2cBgPxao59t8Ojoi0Y2rrkd0VbtzIWXFMvR-ysIhPW/s1600/DSC02695.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggACf1c-6k2NSSYn3fXvA0AaTPpVs9HnFN2rsC7b8PWORckMUwCgv3cPTRowTUP61DTOEKwUv8-507v5YF8I5UJsREiQQ888X7qX2cBgPxao59t8Ojoi0Y2rrkd0VbtzIWXFMvR-ysIhPW/s400/DSC02695.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662460461074291954" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-4XTnOD68D1n35QoMMAlHRdiNkiok1RMhQpTtOLpM8RIrVJTVVJWzHVz7fQBZjjEvoT7qrspbNSxC-2oybAIKJrajjqeBqZJW8nih6YTqrtXjNWIipCxoEr-IxOy8dfvLDPAZs2eywRD/s1600/DSC02696.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-4XTnOD68D1n35QoMMAlHRdiNkiok1RMhQpTtOLpM8RIrVJTVVJWzHVz7fQBZjjEvoT7qrspbNSxC-2oybAIKJrajjqeBqZJW8nih6YTqrtXjNWIipCxoEr-IxOy8dfvLDPAZs2eywRD/s400/DSC02696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662452062802180834" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5dP1GN6cwGyoKAEUiMAKexhzmpkb_z-RCGDHL2mLUHqRh6rxHXuq5nmber40BC9Yw-29BZcJL6sIqdVgatDowOT7jNh4t5yJh2YE84OFgVTFSTbY-AhwOvNVYvGEbP3PEcdX8EPB8jvT/s1600/DSC02697.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5dP1GN6cwGyoKAEUiMAKexhzmpkb_z-RCGDHL2mLUHqRh6rxHXuq5nmber40BC9Yw-29BZcJL6sIqdVgatDowOT7jNh4t5yJh2YE84OFgVTFSTbY-AhwOvNVYvGEbP3PEcdX8EPB8jvT/s400/DSC02697.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662453088032790738" border="0" /></a><br />The next morning, Giuseppe headed off for work and Veronica and I slept in before enjoying the day together. I helped her dye her hair and then we had lunch before heading into the center, stopping by her favorite shoe store which was having an amazing sale, every pair of shoes was 10 euro! Afterward we relaxed in the piazzas and by chance caught the entertaining show of Grey the Mime in Piazza della Signorina, who essentially just scares or makes fun of the tourists walking by. At one point he picked up a chinese man and set him down in our laps! As the afternoon came to an end, I walked Veronica to the station and when it was time to say goodbye she shed a few tears. Although she wished I could stay, she told me that after seeing my artwork she understood that I needed to be pursuing work as an artist. I told her I couldn't feel sad as it was practically a miracle that I got to return to Italy for that month and it was so absolutely amazing visiting their home in Calabria. We hugged and agreed to stay in touch.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKkQPVPQkya2afM068L7L5c1TfnOZmvzzEMjvFRTWgrhIcFkIizKOi-Zfl6tbMB1cvL_-gHpchtP44eW80efcORCGDcCD2R5J_H6zcKKa93H3IlrSjGjk6G6fzqO-_wQiHjkyzoiapZ9Rh/s1600/DSC02699.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKkQPVPQkya2afM068L7L5c1TfnOZmvzzEMjvFRTWgrhIcFkIizKOi-Zfl6tbMB1cvL_-gHpchtP44eW80efcORCGDcCD2R5J_H6zcKKa93H3IlrSjGjk6G6fzqO-_wQiHjkyzoiapZ9Rh/s400/DSC02699.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662453102087353026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnNmDx097t-n9b8WxgzEO6nHooy-v-ju_nOnK3ZXcKsQOY3Rm5N3zFOnrjLmZ3FUeEOCww4oBFpkn7KKS1QCnGGBd3pS37J7Cobi4P4ju1Jsv3VAAqW3PunU40iw8ObUonRLCuD0Qii0c/s1600/DSC02706.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCaOLoy9-VHpDq-WkM8m6GT4FZrOepKlIbp86dFmt-UvQeJ738rnIXJ0gCp7S29lHTBwkWhUgWUP2xB2Xt3cOdwnmc0nZirF9w_EtifBZGwP9_EKyCwTeEJkl4rjAs5kkjeGn2WzetXFD/s1600/DSC02705.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCaOLoy9-VHpDq-WkM8m6GT4FZrOepKlIbp86dFmt-UvQeJ738rnIXJ0gCp7S29lHTBwkWhUgWUP2xB2Xt3cOdwnmc0nZirF9w_EtifBZGwP9_EKyCwTeEJkl4rjAs5kkjeGn2WzetXFD/s400/DSC02705.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662453112420790306" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnNmDx097t-n9b8WxgzEO6nHooy-v-ju_nOnK3ZXcKsQOY3Rm5N3zFOnrjLmZ3FUeEOCww4oBFpkn7KKS1QCnGGBd3pS37J7Cobi4P4ju1Jsv3VAAqW3PunU40iw8ObUonRLCuD0Qii0c/s1600/DSC02706.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnNmDx097t-n9b8WxgzEO6nHooy-v-ju_nOnK3ZXcKsQOY3Rm5N3zFOnrjLmZ3FUeEOCww4oBFpkn7KKS1QCnGGBd3pS37J7Cobi4P4ju1Jsv3VAAqW3PunU40iw8ObUonRLCuD0Qii0c/s400/DSC02706.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662453122988835986" border="0" /></a>On my last day, Giuseppe cooked while I packed and after many hours I was instructed to enter the kitchen, greeted by glorious smells and a smiling chef. Awaiting on the table were mushrooms cooked with rabbit (from farm Zampelli) cooked to perfection, with a fabulous salad, leftover peas, and bread sprinked with oil and basil (gluten free for me;). We ate until we couldn't eat anymore, in the style of our usual weekend all-inclusive breakfast/lunch/dinner meal.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjlX8mU1XWqxn96HnpGc9sBmfOzc1LzYYgb7Bal9n-JUlgpfiyEXNfE90q-5MZz4Bp4mL5MCjZfBFfL0ppDut3-OQlY72aUcGUDMONWvsKTfpjBzCrWEGBx9VDSJmnpKTUlaxKVrxcIpM/s1600/DSC02752b.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjlX8mU1XWqxn96HnpGc9sBmfOzc1LzYYgb7Bal9n-JUlgpfiyEXNfE90q-5MZz4Bp4mL5MCjZfBFfL0ppDut3-OQlY72aUcGUDMONWvsKTfpjBzCrWEGBx9VDSJmnpKTUlaxKVrxcIpM/s400/DSC02752b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662454724674056530" border="0" /></a><br />All fueled up, Giuseppe was then ready to record a video to greet my family, in response to the short hello videos I had done of all my family members (including our new kitty, Charlie, my mom's birthday present) before leaving Canada. He did an amazing job using his english vocabulary to acknowledge each person separately, making tons of jokes and being so sweet. Upon finishing this 8 minute epic, I couldn't hold back my tears <3<br /><br />That evening despite still being stuffed we grabbed a gelato at our usual spot, de medici, with me sampling my favorite almond-fig flavor from Giuseppe's cone as I knew I wouldn't be able to digest a whole serving to myself (I can only do the sorbetti (sorbet)), followed by a walk and a sit in front of the fountain at the fortezza. Then, to help us feel like it was just another regular night, we went for a drink in the center with a colleague of Giuseppe's, Ezio, and his girlfriend.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAX1y3hyY03F_lHWQ9HvQDsDehJ2bqf6SurPZktVfBh7hVTNQ5VOFUsefdTRleizf-RFAeNfBdfQRzu809c-A3UjUXY95oDMT3qA2TLxRNJtbIgGsoDzMpdu6cM2cS8OO_wyVItnraR8ra/s1600/DSC02756.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAX1y3hyY03F_lHWQ9HvQDsDehJ2bqf6SurPZktVfBh7hVTNQ5VOFUsefdTRleizf-RFAeNfBdfQRzu809c-A3UjUXY95oDMT3qA2TLxRNJtbIgGsoDzMpdu6cM2cS8OO_wyVItnraR8ra/s400/DSC02756.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662457169800460354" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzm6GS06vfHnH0NWOp1p3UE_hwhoHEEYZthnzEA8NkivxVpJnbaQ6p6yRmTS3d3s48wjw7oVOYq9TxgnbeeVW_epDmkEjiYS_iWgT1XYYWiHI6pus_Kq_qj9YoiXF8ZuRnXR0PE17KZXn/s1600/DSC02758.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzm6GS06vfHnH0NWOp1p3UE_hwhoHEEYZthnzEA8NkivxVpJnbaQ6p6yRmTS3d3s48wjw7oVOYq9TxgnbeeVW_epDmkEjiYS_iWgT1XYYWiHI6pus_Kq_qj9YoiXF8ZuRnXR0PE17KZXn/s400/DSC02758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662457173658550162" border="0" /></a><br />My short notice, month long trip back to Italy felt like the sequel to a movie, I told Giuseppe one day towards the end. I saw many of the same places and people, many of which I wasn't sure if or when I'd see again, along with many new places and people. Half was so familiar and the other half, brand new. The month was absolutely wonderful, more that I could've ever asked for. And of course, as things go when you're enjoying yourself, it flew by. The second goodbye, this time at the airport as opposed to the train station, although sucking just as bad, was a little bit easier knowing that it was such a bonus that I was there in the first place, and knowing that after a month of staying together everyday in happiness, we would definitely see each other again upon my return to Italy, regardless of how circumstances might change.<br /><br />Shortly after my return home, I was notified that the CILS exam (certification of italian for foreigners that I did at the beginning of June) results were in. I nervously punched in my code and was elated to find 82%! During that last month in Italy I knew I had improved both talking and understanding Italian in leaps and bounds, which I was surprised to experience after a 6 week cold turkey break. However I was torn out of english pretty quickly being in complete immersion in Calabria the first week (which also allowed me to pull out some calabrese dialect frases every so often to surprise Giuseppe, including "vieni ka!!" (come here!) and "nineam a mangear!" (let's go eat!)). However at the time of writing the test in June I still wasn't so confident so I'm so happy that all my studying paid off at the time. My tutor, Valentina, was even prouder of me upon hearing the news.<br /><br />About a week after my Canadian re-arrival, I celebrated my 28th birthday which was the first in 10 years that I had celebrated with my family. We cooked a nice italian dinner complete with gluten free cake and I broke out the italian licorice liqor, a gift from Giuseppe's parents, with dessert. A low key birthday, but of course I had to shake it up a little bit with a request to all the guests to adorn a funny hat. This was mostly because I wanted to wear my princess crown from Italy:) By chance Giuseppe caught me on skype the night before, where it was already past midnight in Italy and therefore my birthday, and he had me read the sweetest email ever before serenading me with 'happy birthday' on his guitar :_ ) Thank you skype.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxZQZwSsRdTmCr4Zk8mr3ZC4R7Ku1TMA1kUQae7f0yFwbgAzrsEWszGIMrAzU0IUhX36NUz9P2pWYrJOBXn_Lg5aC_2MB8nl6pNSQBOzHIsyY_mGMrOfUQRH7IgjwHtLCrQIWqZc-PB-P/s1600/DSC02762.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAxZQZwSsRdTmCr4Zk8mr3ZC4R7Ku1TMA1kUQae7f0yFwbgAzrsEWszGIMrAzU0IUhX36NUz9P2pWYrJOBXn_Lg5aC_2MB8nl6pNSQBOzHIsyY_mGMrOfUQRH7IgjwHtLCrQIWqZc-PB-P/s400/DSC02762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662457198961560786" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP3q91lkbqN6UtMZ2fjp6mzvGgx8Vg8wNxv_c7ZUYq-bweRTRg3-WL2WgWjU0es93HoWgWdfna6sGEDi5nao-uQUTf7GAGIPonS9-anF39cIEWDL6cItp0wGh-JOCAKqmLnT-iR5ff7HB/s1600/DSC02759.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP3q91lkbqN6UtMZ2fjp6mzvGgx8Vg8wNxv_c7ZUYq-bweRTRg3-WL2WgWjU0es93HoWgWdfna6sGEDi5nao-uQUTf7GAGIPonS9-anF39cIEWDL6cItp0wGh-JOCAKqmLnT-iR5ff7HB/s400/DSC02759.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662457177112106770" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfcDDR1abmSLHFerT2QnGz-Oo34xpGYiVOGHptsLeUJIY2FzAa2xbsIlveodWENA9UfzA-7BMq2uXjGhwatugJ2v5SJRuDfYM16FM0tfhsOIsrduvlFV8DkSfRb6YqBMEmUkAiZZfYB8cx/s1600/321019_10150837138460188_545390187_21306075_266671541_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfcDDR1abmSLHFerT2QnGz-Oo34xpGYiVOGHptsLeUJIY2FzAa2xbsIlveodWENA9UfzA-7BMq2uXjGhwatugJ2v5SJRuDfYM16FM0tfhsOIsrduvlFV8DkSfRb6YqBMEmUkAiZZfYB8cx/s400/321019_10150837138460188_545390187_21306075_266671541_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662459131665195154" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XBO6UgABg0eqQqr4yZnWHH-AgKn8zXudn85cNCNv5s1MXXi4_s8tsVBpv5mkgH3zLGq-XwEIc1SIJPy-ZogY8WGsTm4ZUNRMCGnmLsOhdBybu_Lgx1HYYMTQjZ2D6_lyxfxpk4saj2X3/s1600/DSC02638.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XBO6UgABg0eqQqr4yZnWHH-AgKn8zXudn85cNCNv5s1MXXi4_s8tsVBpv5mkgH3zLGq-XwEIc1SIJPy-ZogY8WGsTm4ZUNRMCGnmLsOhdBybu_Lgx1HYYMTQjZ2D6_lyxfxpk4saj2X3/s400/DSC02638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662459511152639522" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRw4bkVFdl_yqv2Ulu70isjJ_qRy0NJsTA5yjXXkyO55H9tDP1T2hgYFn_la0W0uWLmJpi3PgvasEImLciRokg0rqFo8UaQdTuhWPheNcP5FZmmYCnJZXNOz8IKRq2VAOWoq8htkNr2CYN/s1600/DSCN0386.JPG"><br /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-26062717286683285852011-07-28T11:30:00.000-07:002011-07-28T17:02:29.289-07:00Arrividerci (goodbye or literally 'to re-see each other')<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpit-IxpJ_EkZMfAeRFyFt4O8XI1RIVnSFglG3tuvNegeDHybPZxnevjJEClTCOQhZKQvzTf49uWJjJQxcfEUDCFBXIKMRpHDEj7DmjuNa8Xxr01imiFHFAMlIffv5YOGUC6M36X1AbpC/s1600/DSC01981.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpit-IxpJ_EkZMfAeRFyFt4O8XI1RIVnSFglG3tuvNegeDHybPZxnevjJEClTCOQhZKQvzTf49uWJjJQxcfEUDCFBXIKMRpHDEj7DmjuNa8Xxr01imiFHFAMlIffv5YOGUC6M36X1AbpC/s400/DSC01981.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634517670867471090" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUAXGK4NxwC5qJbcOUREwYULGEjZLDqi0HvEqnSSJHEa5rESaaauqL82c9dnCGlvmqSDz99VwfkX7WuV6WS6PoqyFCXVvFlvhCpzYAJhq9c3Z505BuES6CJWbx3w9FtLyfig02hy5iN70/s1600/DSC01994.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUAXGK4NxwC5qJbcOUREwYULGEjZLDqi0HvEqnSSJHEa5rESaaauqL82c9dnCGlvmqSDz99VwfkX7WuV6WS6PoqyFCXVvFlvhCpzYAJhq9c3Z505BuES6CJWbx3w9FtLyfig02hy5iN70/s400/DSC01994.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634517675778843266" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bFO4HNFF8P61T7DbAaypEKdmi7uOOmBezlHrfQ0A5efrpEyrZBZUOb1D0s5zIFjbUTcbUw66uLZSWGEpylA-TzYsKzRlAIDn61s5LapAwt8k6ala-hneN4eRUrNdntIHpDb6cC6cv6a8/s1600/DSC02034.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bFO4HNFF8P61T7DbAaypEKdmi7uOOmBezlHrfQ0A5efrpEyrZBZUOb1D0s5zIFjbUTcbUw66uLZSWGEpylA-TzYsKzRlAIDn61s5LapAwt8k6ala-hneN4eRUrNdntIHpDb6cC6cv6a8/s400/DSC02034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634517683957516098" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR1U-vpG1_QaIpZxgwNcqzmqB8W-CiwaJouL_QBdEYIHeUSYJVzz_dKqh3OIoPSOoHqMZj98GWhARY3DoquhvtGuZKLq9lv-SyQ46v9PjI2HbWjUtFbt0SEzQNWiXOxiWzGbkruTmEH2Hz/s1600/DSC01943.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR1U-vpG1_QaIpZxgwNcqzmqB8W-CiwaJouL_QBdEYIHeUSYJVzz_dKqh3OIoPSOoHqMZj98GWhARY3DoquhvtGuZKLq9lv-SyQ46v9PjI2HbWjUtFbt0SEzQNWiXOxiWzGbkruTmEH2Hz/s400/DSC01943.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634487142347123330" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQcV-glyrpCQlq1_giTcA6q7vW9BOFhTC3sqzM_aFuP3H-aNGO2zO34pU2Y1M3mqPrY6_IamQYJ3nVBmy8LCP9T-5WZTUmop8oRVKTW_agCJkIkW6pWGb3xuKdVp0iQ3zTt8ILEVzNZpN/s1600/DSCN0212.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQcV-glyrpCQlq1_giTcA6q7vW9BOFhTC3sqzM_aFuP3H-aNGO2zO34pU2Y1M3mqPrY6_IamQYJ3nVBmy8LCP9T-5WZTUmop8oRVKTW_agCJkIkW6pWGb3xuKdVp0iQ3zTt8ILEVzNZpN/s400/DSCN0212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634482182694285874" border="0" /></a><br />June started off amazingly with Giuseppe's return from Germany and Spain and a shipment of ripe cherries from Giuseppe's parents farm in Calabria:) As Giuseppe knows how much I love the fruit and vegetable kingdom, he gifted me the whole basketful, which I had to be on top of as they would only last a few days before spoiling. Giuseppe wbas ruthless in picking through them and throwing out any that were the slightest bit bruised but I picked many of them back out of the garbage to salvage. I did pretty good with them, even walking them home rather than risking the bumpy ride on my bicycle, and ate them to capacity before deciding to make a gluten free torta (cake) and invite our friends, Hailey and Pavel over to indulge with us on my balcony. It went over quite well and Giuseppe and I finished the rest for breakfast. The italians usually have a sweet breakfast so this is quite acceptable, in fact the average italian breakfast of sweet pastries would've been much sweeter than this cake as I used very little sugar in my recipe;)<br /><br />I had the pleasure of meeting a new addition to Giuseppe's large extended family (his mom has 8 siblings!), his cousin's new adopted baby, Alessio. After a few years of trying for their own and then a few more waiting on adoption lists, Tony and his wife got a phone call that a baby had been abandoned at a nearby hospital (they live in a suburb of Florence, Sesto Fiorentino), and they were overjoyed to become the parents of this precious 2 1/2 months premature chinese baby.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7L9RVgPcuFqquy0iWpM9f4caPhZYRX8kB2mmSqUSQv8_lpFQ7ASg0AYWGhw7mSiTOJ-ysSC2BCJour088yIze-PSPeSlO6spSG89On8GFozilAGg5edAPtZXNZj4jNlvYFhwdu48CAKK/s1600/DSC01961.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh7L9RVgPcuFqquy0iWpM9f4caPhZYRX8kB2mmSqUSQv8_lpFQ7ASg0AYWGhw7mSiTOJ-ysSC2BCJour088yIze-PSPeSlO6spSG89On8GFozilAGg5edAPtZXNZj4jNlvYFhwdu48CAKK/s400/DSC01961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634487156178640386" border="0" /></a><br />I was so proud and happy to complete the CILS (italian certification for foreigners) exam on the 9th of June. Despite lots of nervousness that I wouldn't be able to understand the listening part, I really feel like I nailed it, and I even felt quite relaxed during the speaking part. I wrote the test at a high school in Scandicci (another suburb of Florence) and had my first experience taking the recently built tramvia, which was super convenient. The only thing I wasn't prepared for in writing the test, was the length of it. It took ALLLLLLL day, from like 8:30am to 5pm, I thought it was going to be 3 hours!<br /><br />However very little of this time was actually spent writing the exam, most of it was waiting for your turn for the speaking portion and long breaks inbetween the other segments. Although I had brought some homemade gluten free "pizza" (I put this in quotes because most italians who are hardcore about food wouldn't consider it so) with me, this quickly disappeared towards mid-day and I was stuck raiding the vending machine, luckily finding organic dark chocolate and gluten free sesame snaps. With all the waiting time I also had the chance to get to know some of my other classmates better. Although we had spent tuesday evenings for the last couple months together in class, after the 3 1/2 hour lesson we all bolted out of there. I hung out with a bulgarian girl and a spanish girl, both art students at the accademia di belle arte in Florence.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvsxh4K4U-280MYh3gmiCk1g91JURJa9qcxJ8gBWDFXTNlZIUok1mbQjJeT2VxhCB2dMpVD_eE5dtVGOtSJqEb3w1HHBmIXjOgdERWJcDZopZ4pedcSaASkDtp45Y5bpBLJeemrT-Xg6L/s1600/DSC01971.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvsxh4K4U-280MYh3gmiCk1g91JURJa9qcxJ8gBWDFXTNlZIUok1mbQjJeT2VxhCB2dMpVD_eE5dtVGOtSJqEb3w1HHBmIXjOgdERWJcDZopZ4pedcSaASkDtp45Y5bpBLJeemrT-Xg6L/s400/DSC01971.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634487165957517954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I was so overjoyed after finishing the test and Giuseppe and I went out to celebrate with Hailey and Pavel for an aperitivo and dancing at Flo, a club perched on top of Piazzale Michelangelo (also known as the best view in Florence). We also sat on the steps of the piazzale for awhile to listen to Florence New Grass, the band that I had seen play in a caffe many months earlier and had <a href="http://followyourrutz.blogspot.com/2010/10/new-week.html">danced the last song with an italian guy in front of the crowd</a>. It was totally by chance that we came across them that night playing in the open air, and I was happy as despite following their schedule online, I hadn't managed to see them play again and I wanted Giuseppe to hear them too.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWtf8ummlVUky5fBoCmmMTs0hyctmV2q73Kjs6xAOLuSAzxtJFD0o49X-lgJhuGafQjUhyLo_P-s0eExJ7Q_7OQ57pHo1Kjz3q7ZXb9aDdcCiIkl2Pb_pYPnUqgPC42s4y1_ffCNhwznBk/s1600/DSCN0213.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWtf8ummlVUky5fBoCmmMTs0hyctmV2q73Kjs6xAOLuSAzxtJFD0o49X-lgJhuGafQjUhyLo_P-s0eExJ7Q_7OQ57pHo1Kjz3q7ZXb9aDdcCiIkl2Pb_pYPnUqgPC42s4y1_ffCNhwznBk/s400/DSCN0213.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634482192084871314" border="0" /></a><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxXH7QuzWZu1GJDjUuyTkatQ2aYvmg-Yu6JmpJhuGHMIpPlHphcLzgqGLjmGlEHDAuiKrN1hMntTaJ1ASKdkA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><br />That weekend we were scheduled to visit Giuseppe's other cousin, also named Giuseppe, who lives in a town called Bibione, on the coast near Venice, but we decided to bump those plans to the next weekend as the weather had suddenly turned stormy and unpredictable. We didn't want it interfering with our beach time. So instead we headed to a lake closer to Florence, near Barberino which is known for it's outdoor outlet mall (which we also stopped by and was very cute). As I'm the kind of girl who just needs some beach and sun to put a smile on my face, I was super happy suntanning and going for a swim.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpaMJ0PJv4lxGpJ1x847sWfb0zXyMR9rPaTmQOaFRbGQH-l_DAvPveMDMDBwbZNX8V_CMf_9uHeIuA3AzzQ3qMxLVf_D3Iq1cn3FJXRqbccch5vMaX9B4aFJ3tcMaLINyGKMSbyZn8ZKa/s1600/DSCN0231.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpaMJ0PJv4lxGpJ1x847sWfb0zXyMR9rPaTmQOaFRbGQH-l_DAvPveMDMDBwbZNX8V_CMf_9uHeIuA3AzzQ3qMxLVf_D3Iq1cn3FJXRqbccch5vMaX9B4aFJ3tcMaLINyGKMSbyZn8ZKa/s400/DSCN0231.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634482198005601586" border="0" /></a><br />The next day we took a little road trip to Sienna, another beautiful, ancient tuscan city, famous for it's annual horse race around the main city square, <span class="st">Piazza del Campo</span>. Giuseppe had attended this race a few years ago and explained to me all of the details and history, of which I made a long, secret video to remind me (i'm not posting it, it's reaaallly long;) We also witnessed a parade of one of the neighborhood squads through the street. Apparently every member of the city belongs to one of the squads and once you move in, or are born in, to that neighborhood, you're in for life. They take it very seriously. We relaxed in the beautiful square and later had a drink at a bar overlooking it.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpaMJ0PJv4lxGpJ1x847sWfb0zXyMR9rPaTmQOaFRbGQH-l_DAvPveMDMDBwbZNX8V_CMf_9uHeIuA3AzzQ3qMxLVf_D3Iq1cn3FJXRqbccch5vMaX9B4aFJ3tcMaLINyGKMSbyZn8ZKa/s1600/DSCN0231.JPG"><br /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzYNclU350k7dxzMIzPRFWrB012fSfsbphjKYkcxANlx__nlqUrHpuCnofOJQbAhApeEr1uferyp8q6tdkpSA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Giuseppe talking in Calabrian dialect while I chill in piazza del campo.<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_sux9vC4qV3sOPcQgQXSap_MhP9JHAhl9gvHosAvkYncBGEglV6wKKWuyaI0tMPMmv0_ks9UQzorHE5S0SsszKK_CzjpM5YR5HRlaASqKUVnrLX0w57yhjghHJvZNYb8HpYuhhg1VjTh8/s1600/DSCN0243.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHyOyrNWWLz9V8FZB5Wl8GMDigRMkqnN3LAzfMSsLNmNRyO4tpbRTiN5yfElRNbumyVZdiexcRerAKvGvC5tRbeaehmJM0-VvlccCZ97edSDJr4CY1NoM5OAkXxnjUYoA2Z-Ii2mBQ2sBR/s1600/DSC01992.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHyOyrNWWLz9V8FZB5Wl8GMDigRMkqnN3LAzfMSsLNmNRyO4tpbRTiN5yfElRNbumyVZdiexcRerAKvGvC5tRbeaehmJM0-VvlccCZ97edSDJr4CY1NoM5OAkXxnjUYoA2Z-Ii2mBQ2sBR/s400/DSC01992.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634487175162996194" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_sux9vC4qV3sOPcQgQXSap_MhP9JHAhl9gvHosAvkYncBGEglV6wKKWuyaI0tMPMmv0_ks9UQzorHE5S0SsszKK_CzjpM5YR5HRlaASqKUVnrLX0w57yhjghHJvZNYb8HpYuhhg1VjTh8/s1600/DSCN0243.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_sux9vC4qV3sOPcQgQXSap_MhP9JHAhl9gvHosAvkYncBGEglV6wKKWuyaI0tMPMmv0_ks9UQzorHE5S0SsszKK_CzjpM5YR5HRlaASqKUVnrLX0w57yhjghHJvZNYb8HpYuhhg1VjTh8/s400/DSCN0243.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634482206255175538" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEmLzJ81pnYRngXHppLrG-4IaUI5JdPZYnsjpXmifXSJHw5VB72XNoJP7M2NNRQr9m_DpdePJbUQjlpxS8u9MBE1cAcNnLON4PPpUmJ6tSvZFzfElLQ11OdZXohQaQaoRwxR7lhhwI1Czj/s1600/DSC01983.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEmLzJ81pnYRngXHppLrG-4IaUI5JdPZYnsjpXmifXSJHw5VB72XNoJP7M2NNRQr9m_DpdePJbUQjlpxS8u9MBE1cAcNnLON4PPpUmJ6tSvZFzfElLQ11OdZXohQaQaoRwxR7lhhwI1Czj/s400/DSC01983.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634517674442691986" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The biannual pitti fashion event was upon Florence again for the upcoming fall/winter season and as such the city was extra full of beautiful people and events. Piazza della Repubblica hosted the most unique and amazing free performance I've ever seen. A dancer was attached to balloons and she floated back and forth across the piazza, I think for a combination of many hours throughout the day, to a soundtrack including radiohead and coldplay. Then periodically she would approach the ground and dance with a man on stilts before being whisked back into the sky. It was so ethereal and captivating, I could've watched for hours.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwUiOHAukY9v-8VvEjchXs4moVgy9ZXxg6tewUZHdXbPeJrCm29VqtjfVVSgl821d87spLv2y3vqGAdqhuyhw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div>Due to my good fortune of being friends with Daniele, who works as a gardener at the beautiful Giardino Torrigiani, I scored an invite to a fabulous fashion party in the garden. Giuseppe and I got dressed up and walked through the candlelit pathways and past the fancy sports cars (decorations) and lit up bar counters until we found Daniele and his girlfriend, Giulia, and some of their other friends. We ate little bundles of perfectly ripe cherries and mini strawberries and mini bars of gelato being served by waiters and enjoyed a few free drinks while watching the band and lounging on blankets and cushions laid out on the grass. How glamorous! Who knew that having connections with gardeners is the way to go?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjbiI4x7n1dEcegCZ5Wjx9INYy6d2b2lCUvMrNnw6jOrFp_9hOPCEKIotb5Qjeo4K7JsCjWpz63PsQk_V7YsxvmywXXY13jzewALM0afMQM9598NWj_iKoT4aDOKqlPA9j9a7rzmxkWZmP/s1600/DSC02056.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjbiI4x7n1dEcegCZ5Wjx9INYy6d2b2lCUvMrNnw6jOrFp_9hOPCEKIotb5Qjeo4K7JsCjWpz63PsQk_V7YsxvmywXXY13jzewALM0afMQM9598NWj_iKoT4aDOKqlPA9j9a7rzmxkWZmP/s400/DSC02056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634487188582802194" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkEbBHQ69jD9LoOPPWnBDGa6JtAXRpSe1yBgs774E3ttQkZZaEzGXC4xLxJJjZ_wpGXumaQULuqd6iH2MNW95IyAENbwOB7UF73tFA_8-KLCwODn6DPvO8b9AY0CT1NQlbY-QSJU0L4fC/s1600/DSC02051.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkEbBHQ69jD9LoOPPWnBDGa6JtAXRpSe1yBgs774E3ttQkZZaEzGXC4xLxJJjZ_wpGXumaQULuqd6iH2MNW95IyAENbwOB7UF73tFA_8-KLCwODn6DPvO8b9AY0CT1NQlbY-QSJU0L4fC/s400/DSC02051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634517689729807698" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next weekend we completed our schedule to go visit Giuseppe's cousin and girlfriend near Bibione, a tourist city on the seaside just north of Venice. The city and the beach was crammed with Germans! Like all seasonal cities, during the tourist season (summer) the place is bursting with people and during the off-season it's basically deserted. We were lucky to have the local advantage and we were directed towards a beach that they don't tell the tourists about. We had a wonderful stay in their new beautiful house and were treated to many wonderful meals, including one at Viviana's (the girlfriend of cousin Giuseppe) mother's house where we ate well beyond capacity and where she went out of her way to accommodate my dietary restrictions.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pBevoIX14v3nuRvQZWEBqJ9ZrfxKAPWXnGUESNb_B4FBaRQvbVRqIYnXtS447DEVuu_RimF43aPhcEjd6c9sxIYfLXRKya5zl8TqyKXdF1ggsReyOnnVksMF1g-vn9GHNyGLu9vUJQhR/s1600/DSCN0255.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2pBevoIX14v3nuRvQZWEBqJ9ZrfxKAPWXnGUESNb_B4FBaRQvbVRqIYnXtS447DEVuu_RimF43aPhcEjd6c9sxIYfLXRKya5zl8TqyKXdF1ggsReyOnnVksMF1g-vn9GHNyGLu9vUJQhR/s400/DSCN0255.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634482211130859410" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuPH-ItnfWfTDUxUqWWRX3Lye6SCIOcedE8_vvqmrT2V6crMKODLHCGn2RGTRLDIYOul7lWOtHXdsIh8tjACTBp6RfvOF1QpFRrPZuibAycqPLIlnA_MFUMRaUgWPf8bClBbUImNzZfmIR/s1600/DSC02087.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuPH-ItnfWfTDUxUqWWRX3Lye6SCIOcedE8_vvqmrT2V6crMKODLHCGn2RGTRLDIYOul7lWOtHXdsIh8tjACTBp6RfvOF1QpFRrPZuibAycqPLIlnA_MFUMRaUgWPf8bClBbUImNzZfmIR/s400/DSC02087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634519444540839938" border="0" /></a><br />Saturday was the day of my sister Laura's wedding shower and stagette and despite going on thousands of miles away, she was never far from my mind, especially when we came across la festivale della lavanda (the festival of lavender) stretched through the main street of Bibione. Everything was covered in purple, Laura's favorite color and I found a pretty candle incorporating all her wedding colors (purple, black and white) to bring back to her. Also I came across a hotel named in her honor:)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzOOLXe9-hpFE5spWU-f5jHC9ZB10nlatnhfWDQKuD6jHbLgaRqC4WJSmBH3glJ2va7Mu7uCn48o2NwG3jTb96Hs-5GAVkwfeZDJGSj8SCQdZxS64W771Fg_GYM8FTnsDraKHJDqtoTnV/s1600/DSC02097.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoavypadLwErr755Aub6x5llcto1a5xUZ6qbNRl5_P73425BE0GhL36sY_X7Y5tx3G_TJvIOzOI_9-VLSzWHubD18IxFiFr9aLAYcFEJmw0L_egqY93CC8RbUjz6QpPnHjYo40fEUAD-Lt/s1600/DSC02082.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoavypadLwErr755Aub6x5llcto1a5xUZ6qbNRl5_P73425BE0GhL36sY_X7Y5tx3G_TJvIOzOI_9-VLSzWHubD18IxFiFr9aLAYcFEJmw0L_egqY93CC8RbUjz6QpPnHjYo40fEUAD-Lt/s400/DSC02082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634514852342248850" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhGVDPxXeJikpX_zV-DrbdayrgWDP_tY3OjwBexGfu9HSjfFZdxxK_sAnNIvnDt2YkIpSu8Zs-EXM-OFZWWsWzqZ6Bmui3d61P66HSkWDhK1wOCgEqvIJjyZ5hnAggasy_uD3ltJQIN7s/s1600/DSC02077.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzOOLXe9-hpFE5spWU-f5jHC9ZB10nlatnhfWDQKuD6jHbLgaRqC4WJSmBH3glJ2va7Mu7uCn48o2NwG3jTb96Hs-5GAVkwfeZDJGSj8SCQdZxS64W771Fg_GYM8FTnsDraKHJDqtoTnV/s1600/DSC02097.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzOOLXe9-hpFE5spWU-f5jHC9ZB10nlatnhfWDQKuD6jHbLgaRqC4WJSmBH3glJ2va7Mu7uCn48o2NwG3jTb96Hs-5GAVkwfeZDJGSj8SCQdZxS64W771Fg_GYM8FTnsDraKHJDqtoTnV/s400/DSC02097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634489415885253234" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Back in Florence I was in shock one day when I exited my apartment building, ready to rip over to my friend's house, when I discovered, not only my own bike, but a whole rack containing at least 30 other bikes, completely missing! Suddenly it made sense, a sign that I'd seen there the day before, saying it was forbidden to park there on the date listed. This message was accompanied by an icon of a car getting towed. I thought it was weird that the sign was there in front of a bike rack, as no cars could park there anyway, and seeing that there were still tons of other bikes attached, I didn't think much of it. Damn, another lesson learned.<br /><br />I went inside the enoteca (wine bar) in front of the former bicycle parking and asked if they knew what happened. They said the vigili (i think they're like bylaw officers) had taken the bikes and they sent me down the street to the office. Instead I found the police office and they gave me the phone number for the compound. Super irritated that my plans for the day had been sabotaged, and so missing the freedom of my bike to bypass the tourist traffic, I retreated into the park and relaxed until I was ready to call the compound and get the details. I took down the address which of course was really far out of the city, and tried to protest the proposed ticket of a total of 50 Euro, to the excuse that I was out of town and just got back that day to discover my bike gone. It didn't work:P<br /><br />Still too devastated to take care of the situation, and anticipating a situation not as simple as it seems (<a href="http://followyourrutz.blogspot.com/2010/11/poste-italiane.html">like picking up my package from Canada</a>). I decided to wait until the morning and ask Giuseppe to drop me off there as it was close to his work. However it ended up not being as bad as I'd anticipated. They took my info and led me down the loooooong line of confiscated motorinos (italian mini motorbikes) and bikes, until we arrived at the section confiscated from piazza san felice (my hood).<br /><br />I was joyed to find my bike (which was actually my friend's bike on lend to me, but I felt responsible as if it was my own:) amongst the masses, however it was missing an important screw which without it, rendered the basket and some other bits rather wobbly. Upon pointing this out to the worker, he went scouting for a bicycle of the same model from a batch of longer term bicycle inmates whose owner's it seemed weren't likely coming to bail them out. After the bike was stable again, Giuseppe gave me some directions on how to get home and I set out for a long ride, complete with a few wrong turns and near-death experiences, home and he headed for work. Luckily I only had to pay 11 Euro of the ticket upfront and was told I'd be receiving a bill for the remaining 39 Euro in a month. Fortunately I wouldn't be able to receive this piece of mail as I'd be moving out before then, heh heh.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKWZODeO049KG04j7vnPLrqmZW0p5ekT7IYQl-AyCm8z16DLTeAkn-A5XAwwjjehQHiRSOLyEoPsA6lIwv8F3Hlg_V56XOEqmN5fFyJqY5AIaTmjGNbOH_M-RqGFlFzYhzDDYVm2-QGuo/s1600/DSC02105.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKWZODeO049KG04j7vnPLrqmZW0p5ekT7IYQl-AyCm8z16DLTeAkn-A5XAwwjjehQHiRSOLyEoPsA6lIwv8F3Hlg_V56XOEqmN5fFyJqY5AIaTmjGNbOH_M-RqGFlFzYhzDDYVm2-QGuo/s400/DSC02105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634489430093634946" border="0" /></a><br />Another strange experience I had one day in front of my apartment building, was when I returned home one afternoon and stuck my key in the door as usual, turned it, and pushed, then pushed harder....and harder. The door was not budging. I pushed all the doorbells until someone buzzed me in, but despite hearing the latch release, the door would not open. Again and again I tried, until concluding something was wrong with the door. Dumbfounded and not sure what else to do I called Giuseppe who confirmed how strange it was. He suggested I call my neighbor. A good idea, which I tried but she didn't pick up. Stuck again, I looked around the piazza and spied the door open of the church of san felice, the church I had been living beside for many months, but despite my intentions to do so, I'd never actually gone in.<br /><br />Seeing this as my opportunity, I entered the church and walked around before sitting on a pew for a few minutes to dissipate my stress. After I came back outside I tried my neighbor again but again she didn't pick up. With a sigh I walked back to the door and stuck my key in and turned it, expecting to feel the same resistance against my shoulder as I pushed it, but instead, open it went! I was in the church all of 4 minutes but in this time, had someone exited the building, therefore fixing the glitch? Or had this door glitch just fixed itself in these 4 minutes? I'll never know but Giuseppe told me this was a clear sign that I needed some religion in my life:)<br /><br />A special day was upon us, wednesday the 22nd of June, also know as Giuseppe's birthday:) We organized a small gathering of friends for an aperitivo and swimming at the pavoniere, an outdoor restuarant/bar/swimming pool located inside Florence's giant park, La Cascine. We ate, drank, and swam the evening away, or so I thought. Upon leaving, Giuseppe, in his slightly drunken birthday boy state, insisted to ride my bike back to his house, so instead I jumped in his car with his sister, Veronica, behind the wheel.<br /><br />We arrived about the same time in front of Giuseppe's apartment building and without saying much, he kicked me into the backseat and took shotgun, directing Veronica where to drive. I kept asking where we were going but he was mostly changing the subject, so I actually thought he was just giving Veronica some driving practice. Then we turned a corner and I realized. It was wednesday and as such I knew it was salsa night at Scusa Mario, an outdoor place for concerts and dancing. We hadn't actually been there for salsa night as of yet, but I should've known that Giuseppe's birthday wasn't complete without dancing the night away too. We took care of that.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmXsAtewk2KoWvN5S6Tf2EuhgGXjQvKsOKEx3b_oi_a8CNd7GWqxE_srHoq3UFGoKdXJQOJ6-83HpV9LsLWtaWCQgNV56EDDjwTG6hrBNWZuy38vylhI7FBxDLvKQm6PP8v4d3ddm0ezP/s1600/DSCN0259.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmXsAtewk2KoWvN5S6Tf2EuhgGXjQvKsOKEx3b_oi_a8CNd7GWqxE_srHoq3UFGoKdXJQOJ6-83HpV9LsLWtaWCQgNV56EDDjwTG6hrBNWZuy38vylhI7FBxDLvKQm6PP8v4d3ddm0ezP/s400/DSCN0259.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634484044885498882" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCZ8HCnJoboL-dRY_h2Na1Ebc3CVsfC9GGz-LLWIX6fsaBmbX6iycGgE8qQkmHtnGEh8y2mZt0_IVT_NvN2418dN8PJUKXLJNbDHUxqv0HH946kTVZ0x2TLUcdlFtjXsIuoumDy27jKMl/s1600/giuseppe_sing.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCZ8HCnJoboL-dRY_h2Na1Ebc3CVsfC9GGz-LLWIX6fsaBmbX6iycGgE8qQkmHtnGEh8y2mZt0_IVT_NvN2418dN8PJUKXLJNbDHUxqv0HH946kTVZ0x2TLUcdlFtjXsIuoumDy27jKMl/s400/giuseppe_sing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634494675986536530" border="0" /></a>The cover of the birthday card I made for Giuseppe, which inspired him to strike the pose in real life.<br /></div><br />My last weekend before departing to Canada we headed to Ravenna, another city near the east coast of Italy, to visit Giuseppe's friend from university, Dario, and his girlfriend, Ilaria. As friday was a holiday in Florence in honor of the city's patron saint, San Giovanni, we left early friday and spent the afternoon at the beach despite being a bit overcast. When the sun peeked out we decided to go for a swim. I apparently had lots of energy to burn as I proposed (somewhat joking) that we swim out to the buoy in the near distance. Giuseppe immediately opposed on account of concern about leaving our things on the beach vulnerable to the sticky fingers of passers by, but at my insistence, he quickly caved. I was a little surprised by his quicker than anticipated agreement but pleased as we started the looooooong swim.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5UCkN39jz0MOyDaucJS0Kb_rs1j8btp5BUud6F1Wze_Cc6N0-asSzE_Fb8fk5M67mul2a-YXtMaDecywTr5rDKRB23IEHB8gU02ipzBhQfIOkMGc83T8rrs8-oT25CN_9csroIN2GlvSx/s1600/DSC02182.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5UCkN39jz0MOyDaucJS0Kb_rs1j8btp5BUud6F1Wze_Cc6N0-asSzE_Fb8fk5M67mul2a-YXtMaDecywTr5rDKRB23IEHB8gU02ipzBhQfIOkMGc83T8rrs8-oT25CN_9csroIN2GlvSx/s400/DSC02182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634519452675370866" border="0" /></a><br />Naturally the buoy was farther than it appeared. Periodically Giuseppe would express his concern about our belongings getting stolen and how it would ruin our weekend, but I continued to reassure him not to worry that our stuff would be fine. We swam and swam and swam, and the more tired he became, the more he was convinced that I was crazy. But in my opinion we were too far to turn back, so I egged him on. Finally we made it and I touched the buoy proudly. After my urging, Giuseppe did the same except rolling his eyes while he did it. Then we commenced the loooooonnnnngggg swim back, and I proposed a race, which at least earned me a little smile from him along with some sarcastic remarks. But that little smile faded once it started to rain.<br /><br />Uh oh, now I was a little worried and felt bad that I'd insisted that we swim so far out. Finally we made it back to shore, scooped up all our stuff, and ducked under the restaurant patio just before it started POURING. Now that we were safe (although a bit exhausted) and our stuff was neither stolen or soaked, we just looked at each other and laughed, rehashing the humor of the situation:P However this experience cemented my nickname from Giuseppe, Pazza (crazy).<br /><br />Once we met up with Dario and Ilaria, we went for a fantastic dinner at a nearby restaurant and I had the delicious risotto alla marinara, rice cooked in a tomato based sauce with seafood. Then we had a drink at a nearby bar before retiring early in anticipation of our program for the following day, Mirabilandia, a huge amusement park just outside of the city. It was a beautiful day and we got there nice and early to beat the crowds. Upon arriving at the front of the line to buy tickets, we were shocked by the ticket prices, 33 Euro each (that's like 50 bucks)! As it was his idea to go, Giuseppe graciously picked up the tab and we entered the park grounds. For the rest of the morning and afternoon we made the rounds between different rides and shows (including a stunt show with cars and motorbikes), splitting up into couples for awhile as Giuseppe and my tastes were a little more adventurous than Dario and Ilaria's.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDrH4gb-sfxMR6KiLhQChUYLndVI1KRUp5hkeYNVVoafm9EWAhZhp-vO-lp4jBs4_ERREBNL79LFMWSUoiEfUtp3dK7HLbBpOy67gMfUcfinokJLwnuzrdyA0UPsIV6vNNAhRmWDbgL5YT/s1600/DSCN0290.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDrH4gb-sfxMR6KiLhQChUYLndVI1KRUp5hkeYNVVoafm9EWAhZhp-vO-lp4jBs4_ERREBNL79LFMWSUoiEfUtp3dK7HLbBpOy67gMfUcfinokJLwnuzrdyA0UPsIV6vNNAhRmWDbgL5YT/s400/DSCN0290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634484071345690722" border="0" /></a>After riding the number 1 rollercoaster in Europe.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxD3j09XJr3fz4Evu6pjmHfgZl4ognaJe4Jye8AoaAFcWburua81Hz0ppCrRvSbhFXoLrkh8bRb4CAFNoMmMS53y4kLfpKiuuL3Nxt63EjeWvcGCKjxXoWcddQVOIpKk4nivdykHgvCEYI/s1600/DSCN0284.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxD3j09XJr3fz4Evu6pjmHfgZl4ognaJe4Jye8AoaAFcWburua81Hz0ppCrRvSbhFXoLrkh8bRb4CAFNoMmMS53y4kLfpKiuuL3Nxt63EjeWvcGCKjxXoWcddQVOIpKk4nivdykHgvCEYI/s400/DSCN0284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634484062048683682" border="0" /></a>Look how big the cactus' are!!!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8iOmFJDM16HSPUFVW0frO2K1zCWYBr-TQ19k43ZPIqRKor7h-PMKmO3CKxMGX31vtcOjVqaq5rzM_4Rzmh8KXNKUxNt5BLVlCt6avacPwz_LjPqTcTJxHYyHyEQp-PRrvLyfOzUPO7-9U/s1600/DSC02198.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8iOmFJDM16HSPUFVW0frO2K1zCWYBr-TQ19k43ZPIqRKor7h-PMKmO3CKxMGX31vtcOjVqaq5rzM_4Rzmh8KXNKUxNt5BLVlCt6avacPwz_LjPqTcTJxHYyHyEQp-PRrvLyfOzUPO7-9U/s400/DSC02198.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634492016633288514" border="0" /></a>mr. sweetooth<br /></div><br />After returning home we got cleaned up and headed to a very chic club with a pool in a nearby area, although we were not chic enough to be allowed in the pool section, we fought for space on the dance floor amongst the glamorous italians. The next day Giuseppe and I were planning to spend the day on our own as Dario and Ilaria had some things to catch up on, so we headed out in the direction of another beach, but along the way noticed the signs advertising 'second day free at Mirabilandia' and we both raised an eyebrow. After paying 33 euro for a ticket maybe it was worth spending another day at Mirabilandia beach, an area we never made it to the day previously? Giuseppe left it up to me and I decided yes:)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFTfc0-sWTsnNmfhT_bKT-h76dLSmQCLOiR7SfvgjLAYekbAhvZAowoXrDEYhHX5nXZJLiZ6JqE8tQtx4prraoM9l0IskkN-6WTVbGKZFrRNu8YkgBgrpIRQl0Cupn9bwVCkOWAko4-X2/s1600/DSC02221.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQFTfc0-sWTsnNmfhT_bKT-h76dLSmQCLOiR7SfvgjLAYekbAhvZAowoXrDEYhHX5nXZJLiZ6JqE8tQtx4prraoM9l0IskkN-6WTVbGKZFrRNu8YkgBgrpIRQl0Cupn9bwVCkOWAko4-X2/s400/DSC02221.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634522799012276018" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZxMixYP0w2j55VjzxTjrP7ioSSPItzEajisRZRFcBjBKdSbx33NKSqEQ3wh7QGWobAYv1uNXed8c0SVQ2T4P5OIOXr8yAQM2ax6r4i6EGZxvgpaW7LseAvsAeKYv9uzzqGS5byz1mp5c/s1600/DSCN0278.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZxMixYP0w2j55VjzxTjrP7ioSSPItzEajisRZRFcBjBKdSbx33NKSqEQ3wh7QGWobAYv1uNXed8c0SVQ2T4P5OIOXr8yAQM2ax6r4i6EGZxvgpaW7LseAvsAeKYv9uzzqGS5byz1mp5c/s400/DSCN0278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634484053226049794" border="0" /></a><br /><br />However once we smuggled our way in (you were actually supposed to get the second day ticket BEFORE leaving the first day, but Giuseppe sweet talked us back in with our ticket stubs) we discovered that there was an additional charge for the beach part. So we forked over another 10 euro each and rode the waterslides and played in the water park for a couple hours before sundrying off and heading back to home base to pack up and start the 2 hour drive back to Florence. The last of our wonderful trips in the company of lovely people, reality started sinking on the drive home. I would be leaving for Canada in 3 days:_(<br /><br />Of course this was no surprise as I'd had the flight booked for quite sometime, but it's one of those things were you won't know how you'll feel until it's actually happening. Luckily we'd been taking every spare opportunity to cross off things on our to-do list in the weeks prior, including eating granita (kinda like a slurpee, sicilian style), visiting all the clubs and salsa places in the area, touring around the center of Florence and stopping at the famous porcellino so I could rub it's nose and put a coin in it's mouth to let it fall in the water, therefore guaranteeing my return to Florence (however I had to do this at least 4 times before the coin landed in the right spot!).<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOR-VqmEKx76bfFuCq_4k_nyJtmjV1I1PZLJWQ2RGQ1oBFapudbww3ehNg01mb0AskilRLvTV7kkJRJyIaxFB5aKcWxkASKwF6MsGRYTANc8V6CI64n7G83Q6WVmfXvz2wyyTMXZt6T7-/s1600/DSC02164.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOR-VqmEKx76bfFuCq_4k_nyJtmjV1I1PZLJWQ2RGQ1oBFapudbww3ehNg01mb0AskilRLvTV7kkJRJyIaxFB5aKcWxkASKwF6MsGRYTANc8V6CI64n7G83Q6WVmfXvz2wyyTMXZt6T7-/s400/DSC02164.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634491994810569570" border="0" /></a><br />We tried to stay positive and enjoy our remaining time together rather than thinking of the time we'd be spending apart. As it was that time of year (end of school year), other friends were already leaving. We had a few nights in Piazza Santo Spirito to say goodbye to my italian tutor, Valentina, who was so proud of me, being her first and longest student, and my Canadian friend, Alicia, who I was actually planning to meet up with in a matter of days in Toronto.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYbYJyuI3OgzeG26rG9VVzbbnTHH4FS_jl465aQNxzb7YvAvXvRcenJn_HfTYpAv9ZXI0gZGNNx0FLRkymB1-m_OrqLTc5lxzC8LA4GjAiD81HByZOA4Culs7yNjNeLNhRzXuazBoYAzh/s1600/DSC02062.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYbYJyuI3OgzeG26rG9VVzbbnTHH4FS_jl465aQNxzb7YvAvXvRcenJn_HfTYpAv9ZXI0gZGNNx0FLRkymB1-m_OrqLTc5lxzC8LA4GjAiD81HByZOA4Culs7yNjNeLNhRzXuazBoYAzh/s400/DSC02062.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634489403959755522" border="0" /></a>The best way to travel in downtown Florence.<br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuasG65bmgCLcGnRxWBCiEqPqQCKYbfUvzn3diUcxd1n9mvovRoaBGPTIOG5L91l3DQGu0j17thNOtVOeuSa714oK3e2LDTc_JJLdN-PTKdCRFHfj6-ZmP20WJ0OnQ90tdjHeVApPfhauB/s1600/DSC02102.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuasG65bmgCLcGnRxWBCiEqPqQCKYbfUvzn3diUcxd1n9mvovRoaBGPTIOG5L91l3DQGu0j17thNOtVOeuSa714oK3e2LDTc_JJLdN-PTKdCRFHfj6-ZmP20WJ0OnQ90tdjHeVApPfhauB/s400/DSC02102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634491984418955394" border="0" /></a><br />I also joined my other Canadian friend Hailey for an afternoon of gluten and dairy indulgences as she insisted that before leaving I HAD to try the out-of-this-world canolli (the sicilian dessert of fried dough encompassing a sweet ricotta cheese filling) at the sicilian gelateria near her apartment, as I'd never had it before. We loaded up on a variety of gelato to share with the canolli, which started melting immediately as it was a super hot day, but I insisted the only way I could survive these allergenic indulgences was to eat them sitting in the park.<br /><br />So we hustled across the viale (highway) and scoped out a spot under a tree and beside the pond in the area outside of the fortezza (fort) while the gelato continued melting down our legs. It was totally worth it though. WOW, canolli. I kept my bites small and mostly let Hailey feed me as she saw fit, enjoying the tastes of these deliciously foriegn and risky substances. However I think I learned the key to food allergy control, eat with someone you love, small bits, with your butt on the grass, and you will be fine:)<br /><br />I had the ultimate test of italian a few days before my departure. I asked my landlady, Antonella, when she'd be giving me my damage deposit back, and she starting on a long explanation of excuses regarding heating bills, blah, blah, blah. At first I listened patiently but when I realized she wasn't letting me talk and being a little bit aggressive, I jumped in. A full blown argument, italian style, with my landlady. CILS exam aside, I earned my real badge in italian. The funny thing is I don't think I would ever argue with someone like this in english, shouting over top of each other, incorporating hand gestures 'cosa vuoi???' (what do you want?? shaking your hand at the wrist with thumb and first two fingers together), interrupting; it's just not within my english speaking personality to conversate in this manner, but apparently it IS within my italian one.<br /><br />In the end, she left in a huff, saying that she would talk to the girl who used to live there, who had told me the terms on Antonella's behalf when I'd moved in. However a short time later when I went out to run some errands, Antonella was at the building entrance and greeted me, calm and smiling, and proceeded to tell me that the next day she would bring me my full damage deposit of 250 euro. Well played;)<br /><br />My cousin, Martinho, saved me the next day in letting me leave 3 big, heavy bags behind at his apartment until I return. It might have helped that a few days prior I finally had him over for dinner. After many wonderful dinners at his house, it was well overdue. At Giuseppe's recommendation for antipasto (appetizer) I made prosciutto (organic) with melon, seafood risotto as primo piatto (first course), salad as contorno (side dish), and gluten-free blueberry cake as dolce (dessert). Martinho brought the wine. We were all stuffed.<br /><br />My last evening in Florence was sad but we encouraged each other to keep smiling as Giuseppe and I went through the motions, gluten-free pizza at pizzaman, gelato at de medici, salsa dancing at Scusa Mario, a walk through the center, and an early morning to drag me and my bags through the streets of Florence to the train station. After a difficult and tearful goodbye I was off to Rome Termini Station where I caught another train to the airport and after a nine hour flight, arrived in Toronto. I made friends with the other solo travelers in my row. An italian guy who has been living in a suburb of Toronto for the last 3 years, and was just on his way back after visiting his family for the first time since. And a girl from London, Ontario who was returning home after 1 year in Italy, as she had italian heritage and had decided to go and learn the language and experience the culture.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZw5DVE9GKh7cGsjZLoFl_PYsjlve89LEJ0GP6Xwoh44I2JBopFOD-ctNWXKuiz2Z3JcGfugPKHc4FLxL1SGsC-4WTfij3yObJQuWAlIzUExB8DLTvvJ68u-1XewPKQ85VRIkSh934xA-/s1600/DSC02224.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZw5DVE9GKh7cGsjZLoFl_PYsjlve89LEJ0GP6Xwoh44I2JBopFOD-ctNWXKuiz2Z3JcGfugPKHc4FLxL1SGsC-4WTfij3yObJQuWAlIzUExB8DLTvvJ68u-1XewPKQ85VRIkSh934xA-/s400/DSC02224.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634492023469108994" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CQgW_Dqbf7e1HLsmZ8TUmEqH-ivY6glKldyRz5-5F-gYliMXccRj6lIxaU0z87NeaFCBA6CoZVgRq1v14AlUyxICWxsbhsh64SmJUo8Q4B1lnyH9MrAcJHSJirIkMsa2Adgw1CofTIms/s1600/DSC02226.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CQgW_Dqbf7e1HLsmZ8TUmEqH-ivY6glKldyRz5-5F-gYliMXccRj6lIxaU0z87NeaFCBA6CoZVgRq1v14AlUyxICWxsbhsh64SmJUo8Q4B1lnyH9MrAcJHSJirIkMsa2Adgw1CofTIms/s400/DSC02226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634519462115139842" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Arriving in Toronto was strange; although familiar it felt so foreign. After getting my bags I exited the terminal to catch the bus but couldn't find the right bus stop, so I re-entered the terminal to ask someone at the information booth. They instructed me to the OTHER terminal to catch the bus. I guess they'd changed it since I took it last. So I took the train to the OTHER terminal and then caught the bus to Square One in Mississauga. I didn't even really want to look out the window on the ride....blahhhh. From there I wheeled my suitcases over to my friend Sadaf's apartment building where I greeted her confused, emotional, dirty, and exhausted, but after a big hug and a shower I started feeling better:) So much time had passed since we'd seen each other, but as it goes with good friends, after a few minutes, it felt like we hadn't missed a beat.<br /><br />In the days to follow I was back and forth between Mississauga and Toronto, catching up with friends and running errands, slowly readjusting to the lifestyle in Canada as my life in Italy started feeling like a dream. I heard many of the same initial phrases from friends like "you look great!" (i gained 20 pounds:) " you're glowing!" (i have a killer tan) and "you look so happy!" (i am, i just lived my dream for 9 months!). I spent Canada Day in Missisauga's new celebration square in good multicultural company with Sadaf and Alan, among all the other indian and chinese inhabitants of Mississauga:) We watched some amazing fusion dance and musical performances, including these classical indian and flamenco dancers who totally stole the show!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyy_eAZyytTN5ZRDKtxybMgQmDuzPaEHmIqrd3hpqo14LEaaoNVgsKehWRuMfYzoh2Es_P42sMT-_g1RP5Bcg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTcdXU83IvvJVIbcd74g9qacjPUVVE_5a0m4wNYwkarw29JyqJKrk841cVcvNBaaLtv11sUj-Z4k1F21c_cbAI-Y8ygQ4r7Be213YGpbIl3ENv55APDpEFRyqjCWIesq3ViVli8jycuzY/s1600/DSC02243.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTcdXU83IvvJVIbcd74g9qacjPUVVE_5a0m4wNYwkarw29JyqJKrk841cVcvNBaaLtv11sUj-Z4k1F21c_cbAI-Y8ygQ4r7Be213YGpbIl3ENv55APDpEFRyqjCWIesq3ViVli8jycuzY/s400/DSC02243.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634494699462233970" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08PfkNtI8BXpJP_7obWoMoxLmZhMzZnGoodw86xUNx383cha8dXXQDOc132DcYw57Zf5sFqOCuDaGO2P6rea2nLoId4Ux7-hs8nhVcZT00bh9cvMjn-oWiTKjmzblfHifA1h1RgbLsR2y/s1600/DSC02228.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08PfkNtI8BXpJP_7obWoMoxLmZhMzZnGoodw86xUNx383cha8dXXQDOc132DcYw57Zf5sFqOCuDaGO2P6rea2nLoId4Ux7-hs8nhVcZT00bh9cvMjn-oWiTKjmzblfHifA1h1RgbLsR2y/s400/DSC02228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634494714831688642" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UW83uW2s5xldncXzIcc1Vf_MvshgSGUhtazj_s0PAmeHss_-JEfyBemGhEVLmkFSo5B_oaz3zdu8m8tW2gUh_TrZFQriHSTQm0CxeACPjgcWrDY1C3Unq_gfPiwbQwZZWWRiRIUkMmAo/s1600/DSC02260.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8UW83uW2s5xldncXzIcc1Vf_MvshgSGUhtazj_s0PAmeHss_-JEfyBemGhEVLmkFSo5B_oaz3zdu8m8tW2gUh_TrZFQriHSTQm0CxeACPjgcWrDY1C3Unq_gfPiwbQwZZWWRiRIUkMmAo/s400/DSC02260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634494707053410930" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicykBtYdzgM-TyUALbVa-HPxMLdFNXmg86njXRIc8kXJXLVvaJUWa7K9UOhc5WgN6SOtfWyKN61Zbt30X0SApYOZqoeOzIFIBm-YrbvdCaLN9RVUJLEoH5evoVjQh-ivcgqKtmh4M_Xofb/s1600/DSC02263.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWRt6rESag1J_oOUkSaHuDZPT8PUQHikEYTqx19Q4gnUwAgqJOvzyHGHQ-sVsJJrLa9XFEtNC1q4TF7Raa0S4_uQh01erThBMLIm5Ua27szUksmgDUkuz1v7cBJjHXUhUIL21APKQauPN/s1600/DSC02261.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWRt6rESag1J_oOUkSaHuDZPT8PUQHikEYTqx19Q4gnUwAgqJOvzyHGHQ-sVsJJrLa9XFEtNC1q4TF7Raa0S4_uQh01erThBMLIm5Ua27szUksmgDUkuz1v7cBJjHXUhUIL21APKQauPN/s400/DSC02261.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634496095878509890" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicykBtYdzgM-TyUALbVa-HPxMLdFNXmg86njXRIc8kXJXLVvaJUWa7K9UOhc5WgN6SOtfWyKN61Zbt30X0SApYOZqoeOzIFIBm-YrbvdCaLN9RVUJLEoH5evoVjQh-ivcgqKtmh4M_Xofb/s1600/DSC02263.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicykBtYdzgM-TyUALbVa-HPxMLdFNXmg86njXRIc8kXJXLVvaJUWa7K9UOhc5WgN6SOtfWyKN61Zbt30X0SApYOZqoeOzIFIBm-YrbvdCaLN9RVUJLEoH5evoVjQh-ivcgqKtmh4M_Xofb/s400/DSC02263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634496105672764690" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih8J0FZc2yY8q5EJX9iFpZ2zVHBHESus9ezBwYMsGhzjxFCqdn3kdfZI7-uzBv2oJu6qLK3ndFP_yc6v8WATfrT7nkXxsAhc9vG5nxTNU6ylzYsGEgkevtF9ScY-WOP75OF3tGaQKBER4B/s1600/DSC02265.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih8J0FZc2yY8q5EJX9iFpZ2zVHBHESus9ezBwYMsGhzjxFCqdn3kdfZI7-uzBv2oJu6qLK3ndFP_yc6v8WATfrT7nkXxsAhc9vG5nxTNU6ylzYsGEgkevtF9ScY-WOP75OF3tGaQKBER4B/s400/DSC02265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634496113177312754" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The week flew by and I was soon back to the airport to continue 4 more hours west to Calgary, where my sister Amy was awaiting my arrival. She even had some tears for me when we hugged (on mom's behalf of course;) and after a little catching up she was happy to let me crash super early. The next day my sister Laura, the bride to be, came in and together we excitedly ran some important wedding errands, picking up her veil and wedding cake before she had to head back to Drumheller to work that night. The following day was Amy's birthday and we were signed up for an afternoon pub crawl to celebrate. As the stampede was currently on I wished I had my cowboy boots and plaid shirt in my suitcase, but we had a blast anyway. I think it was the first of her birthdays that we had celebrated together in 10 years!<br /><br /></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARm8UOWI9RokNx-9T6YPzmF7E8d1a-kMXAfynd4Cn-nUt5Ry78rlwnHQ558r5ifzXSiyJeJ4JTbVph3lExGLGloLyQSvl5BDyKDTdlMNB5Jk-pKarh55V06lFwe8dB1yLMR2XY2bYDtCM/s1600/DSC02267.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARm8UOWI9RokNx-9T6YPzmF7E8d1a-kMXAfynd4Cn-nUt5Ry78rlwnHQ558r5ifzXSiyJeJ4JTbVph3lExGLGloLyQSvl5BDyKDTdlMNB5Jk-pKarh55V06lFwe8dB1yLMR2XY2bYDtCM/s400/DSC02267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634496121329697458" border="0" /></a><br />The next day my mom happily came to fetch me and bring me back to Drumheller, where I was about to enter in the wedding flurry as it remained less than a week until the big day. First order of business, after greeting my other sister Alison, was to try on my bridesmaid dress and have alterations made by the groom Darryl's mother in Hanna, another 45 minute drive out of town. With that in place I was off to my Dad's for a quick visit before calling it a day. To follow in the proceeding days, after visiting my grandparents of course, were lots of wedding preparations including icing wedding cookies at Laura's friend's house, finishing to write the toast to the bride speech which would be read by myself as well as the other maids of honor (my other sisters), highlighting my hair, setting up the reception hall, doing a ceremony rehearsal in the park, painting our toes purple, and hosting the rehearsal dinner at our house, which was also the same day as Alison's birthday, so we snuck in a birthday lunch out with her too:)<br /><br />The big day carried out perfectly, with beautiful weather and all of Laura's well thought out preparations made over the last year and a half, coming together just as planned. She looked amazing in the dress that she had picked out when visiting me in Toronto the year prior and I can't wait to see her vogue-worthy pictures. It all passed by so quickly and after dancing the night away, before we knew it we were on clean up duty the next day:( Despite emphasizing that I'd come all the way from Italy to be there, obviously I wouldn't have missed her wedding for anything and was so proud to be standing beside her during the process.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZxCnI-MCKRzwbLTlv5jdUVRpN9K75WthSDx7R51YkgH3_E6knyTCFv297yO9t1qFplzeH6xqHQYLHj7RVA7m4TrRkeks0G8rsgNorThD0CMyz2A7Ij-lb9YCygbrt-sEmI_sTdLuVdLH/s1600/266.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZxCnI-MCKRzwbLTlv5jdUVRpN9K75WthSDx7R51YkgH3_E6knyTCFv297yO9t1qFplzeH6xqHQYLHj7RVA7m4TrRkeks0G8rsgNorThD0CMyz2A7Ij-lb9YCygbrt-sEmI_sTdLuVdLH/s400/266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634529519474139058" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUeGTC2C_xG5YXNDQAbnIvPsvFpj0c9G_wMLPP5j03L_rTITl1vR9EM5WYiITbf7KRjqqA3SspHXVZyt-rNAzsjmTVdfqTQeSTVRDYncbGDFQ1XPRHkYk1arrGEbpL6quLcnl_31zBhyphenhyphenIB/s1600/293.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUeGTC2C_xG5YXNDQAbnIvPsvFpj0c9G_wMLPP5j03L_rTITl1vR9EM5WYiITbf7KRjqqA3SspHXVZyt-rNAzsjmTVdfqTQeSTVRDYncbGDFQ1XPRHkYk1arrGEbpL6quLcnl_31zBhyphenhyphenIB/s400/293.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634529511320293874" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEkXGo14fRtdM5NReFzOO7JYcwUumVd01VCZASydmwEs0qOVvHnrDYiY5IrdLR7XYoqAwgt6SJN6RPL8ApLgGPUG6Nq7joHauz1mnlxfX_32-RD4rpt7GRvQ8lUqs8IfKR5_bskxapFaDr/s1600/DSC02276.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEkXGo14fRtdM5NReFzOO7JYcwUumVd01VCZASydmwEs0qOVvHnrDYiY5IrdLR7XYoqAwgt6SJN6RPL8ApLgGPUG6Nq7joHauz1mnlxfX_32-RD4rpt7GRvQ8lUqs8IfKR5_bskxapFaDr/s400/DSC02276.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634496131499325778" border="0" /></a>The maids of honor with Darryl's cute nephew, Darian<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh29bmhjQ7GaM05zo-BDam6QvqmMpl2_DnGmtdHiKx65_NWxNLY1VNyQ_KvSoR086pT5wc2KLc0WTO_DEWTnuHc1EMCkF7DHaKWGfkENdgvBKN53244kf8JkG04RHPcoPK2xCKIxn4iDzNB/s1600/DSC02280.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh29bmhjQ7GaM05zo-BDam6QvqmMpl2_DnGmtdHiKx65_NWxNLY1VNyQ_KvSoR086pT5wc2KLc0WTO_DEWTnuHc1EMCkF7DHaKWGfkENdgvBKN53244kf8JkG04RHPcoPK2xCKIxn4iDzNB/s400/DSC02280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634496862461651202" border="0" /></a>Me and Naomi, my new friend with whom I enjoyed running through the sprinkler and digging for worms<br /></div><br />The week after the wedding was my mom and grandpa's birthdays, so I also had the pleasure of celebrating with them after a 10 year gap. All my family members (having birthdays or not) enjoyed the cute t-shirts, spices, and other italian souvenirs that I brought back. Despite taking up a fair amount of space in my suitcase, it was totally worth it as despite being small tokens of appreciation, everyone has been constantly supportive of me and my sometimes crazy plans.<br /><br />Throughout the whirlwind of my arrival in Canada and readjustment of the way things work here, one thing remained very obvious; I love italy. Canada is great of course, I know I'm so lucky for this to be my home and I'm SO happy to see my family. But ITALY!!!!! has something very special to me. At the forefront of this currently may be a small italian man with a big heart who I've been missing since the day I left, but I think this might be a separate thing all together, as I'd feel the same about him regardless of what country he lived in. Italy just happens to be where it's AT for me, and he just happens to live there:)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTf4DCq8cJWuyFu8lZ2o62chyfv1Giu5ZLBi76ShuVKUgJq3kpo8VjBoKL-d1TJP4e2R1yQ59w31sJw464xA5zl_qi-0whlJKtkSnM_PhocR_NYrDX7mPKTAdnYePjZh-TrQU8_npqfsG/s1600/DSC02230.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTf4DCq8cJWuyFu8lZ2o62chyfv1Giu5ZLBi76ShuVKUgJq3kpo8VjBoKL-d1TJP4e2R1yQ59w31sJw464xA5zl_qi-0whlJKtkSnM_PhocR_NYrDX7mPKTAdnYePjZh-TrQU8_npqfsG/s400/DSC02230.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634510706418482290" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After some clarity a few months ago about what I want for my future, I decided it would be best for me to have a time out for a few months and focus on lining up my art career, as it was always a dream of mine to live in Italy, but I want more than just that. I want to be an artist, which is the profession I knew I wanted to do since grade one. In order to do this I need to get serious and finish some projects, including a website, and in order to do this, I need time and focus. I realized there's no better place for this than at home with the support of my family and free rent:) so I'm planning on staying in Canada awhile until I get these things taken care of, and then I can return to survival mode in italy while hopefully making the transition to supporting myself with income as an artist. That's the plan anyway.<br /><br />It's been killing me the idea of missing my flight back to Rome on Aug 13, as it's not changeable nor transferable, but just a few days ago a better solution has been presented.....that I return to Italy to stay with Giuseppe, but just for a few weeks before I come back to Canada and buckle down on my work throughout the fall. I like this solution:) So I'll be traveling back in reverse, first to Toronto for a few days to deal with the remainder of my abandoned belongings, then off to Rome where I'll then catch the train to meet Giuseppe in Calabria where we'll stay for a week before driving back to Florence:) I'm really so lucky I don't know how I'm getting away with this. THANK YOU WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJ-jVXCXWQBt8bTm12j4A8nNEuMydz2h2PFa2OmbmGNZ95p58iP893J8k7WCdkSQEge46AKIWm_MFGO2cNO3kk94742h8rI9hgwxAmaIOHTsdGxFZhrXzldWTvpzdi38fCxfIzVwWpA1N/s1600/DSC02195.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJ-jVXCXWQBt8bTm12j4A8nNEuMydz2h2PFa2OmbmGNZ95p58iP893J8k7WCdkSQEge46AKIWm_MFGO2cNO3kk94742h8rI9hgwxAmaIOHTsdGxFZhrXzldWTvpzdi38fCxfIzVwWpA1N/s400/DSC02195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634492001455520002" border="0" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-68516676372102729622011-05-30T11:49:00.000-07:002011-05-30T15:27:22.863-07:00Le Cinque Terre e Piu`<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWt-ijkZDC272i79DGa-vDfu48gbYCH_5u9V04JkBbCqs6uPR0dSc9bl-m8F_bFpNPbxVrCrxNCkRwahKjizXyHrjbs81QXBjUXP2DVr6OixAAEg5g9fUEgwiPOCO7ssjXvh9LtdPlV8W/s1600/DSC01745.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWt-ijkZDC272i79DGa-vDfu48gbYCH_5u9V04JkBbCqs6uPR0dSc9bl-m8F_bFpNPbxVrCrxNCkRwahKjizXyHrjbs81QXBjUXP2DVr6OixAAEg5g9fUEgwiPOCO7ssjXvh9LtdPlV8W/s400/DSC01745.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612611183956510498" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9HVM8Z9sPGP-iDOVwPXOT8UFqTEuDBwuwjrXzg6JQeHvb3r4vwmQQwo8wHs9VStWUvSGRyzM_1bOWN-19czVP6qjDc8OCFQDB9b0rM84PpHcrGBUdL5LDW5mcaChSO_p0e-vacCgx_qIR/s1600/DSC01735.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGqcgaoUBuzOT_M62tpxnVWzjeVBEY0-VvJNG9jwGS4O-ubl-9XfphoABnuO1DPWKW58lDm5vz2yvbpVRVdZ9zbvZ8O0MtbVRVJNXPgMkV_thcht53ITEAwveRVc7WfiRtY_1HYIJJpVk/s1600/DSC01714.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGqcgaoUBuzOT_M62tpxnVWzjeVBEY0-VvJNG9jwGS4O-ubl-9XfphoABnuO1DPWKW58lDm5vz2yvbpVRVdZ9zbvZ8O0MtbVRVJNXPgMkV_thcht53ITEAwveRVc7WfiRtY_1HYIJJpVk/s400/DSC01714.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612609567453792626" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkcsqjipb5uSInHuC0ojBGnVEHHUKEtYmh9EeWTaL1_iTFrbFGwF43gQGCLPVtKxiO5IGd0kY4zksVuNicDb45RHvazziFV9q4b7PzoSJOCg6bSi2iO4Q9QvC0R_rgJvCoYWrhyphenhyphen0Z_eEz1/s1600/DSC01588.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkcsqjipb5uSInHuC0ojBGnVEHHUKEtYmh9EeWTaL1_iTFrbFGwF43gQGCLPVtKxiO5IGd0kY4zksVuNicDb45RHvazziFV9q4b7PzoSJOCg6bSi2iO4Q9QvC0R_rgJvCoYWrhyphenhyphen0Z_eEz1/s400/DSC01588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612599549342565794" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="" lang="EN-US">Time for an overdue update, let’s see, where do I start… I’ve been doing so many things!</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqr1GeMSNr7xfppv1HuEvI9trIBI8wAriQNaH12NHdoSAEVS37pYf6EZP-C367ud-lGbyNeDEIqjJjUFdfUukRIQvxpJkVFdtkPLi3BEwaRm1z0AgA6FzkDGJT2u5Rt4pj0SYWDtJNCF8t/s1600/DSC01254.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqr1GeMSNr7xfppv1HuEvI9trIBI8wAriQNaH12NHdoSAEVS37pYf6EZP-C367ud-lGbyNeDEIqjJjUFdfUukRIQvxpJkVFdtkPLi3BEwaRm1z0AgA6FzkDGJT2u5Rt4pj0SYWDtJNCF8t/s400/DSC01254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612588248713379650" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1OoGTqbVy6cMmNUpn6CaaeQbJGbRYuwDI-bSG80cmlvQWHLb-mU7hVc7Mefqi7tWxwwVYxd9oPolqi7BXEG8E96RV3HJJXWP5vP06vuD8CCvs6gzF1z5yr6CBOkQhEBWkUVI285s340y/s1600/DSC01268.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1OoGTqbVy6cMmNUpn6CaaeQbJGbRYuwDI-bSG80cmlvQWHLb-mU7hVc7Mefqi7tWxwwVYxd9oPolqi7BXEG8E96RV3HJJXWP5vP06vuD8CCvs6gzF1z5yr6CBOkQhEBWkUVI285s340y/s400/DSC01268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612588242555742450" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpelGlQKVWn3b9RMN5EKkOHMHGMByY4lCHC-oeIDQImcxYprTNPl8vTg0Jx5d4AhP6rkhVYWlgspyCmKfy7qQ_ZcmFh4Lpu07AHfXHrKqFwZQqUbZLsfv_ssn4bJs-zn73IhLGfh8vUSnM/s1600/DSC01265.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpelGlQKVWn3b9RMN5EKkOHMHGMByY4lCHC-oeIDQImcxYprTNPl8vTg0Jx5d4AhP6rkhVYWlgspyCmKfy7qQ_ZcmFh4Lpu07AHfXHrKqFwZQqUbZLsfv_ssn4bJs-zn73IhLGfh8vUSnM/s400/DSC01265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612588244052338226" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">I’ve accompanied Giuseppe a few times to visit his sister, Veronica, in Pisa where she goes to university.<span style=""> </span>We rented a 3 person bike one day and toured around the bumpy streets. </span></p> <p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwg93g2FbmlRRSEDap-7szim908lqTJeDn7VAFEe-a8j9UOYhAvQcx0M0jovtGPQYfFuAY2cuiSgjhmbQ3bNg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2IPHfOe-4Yirxs7G_WxSj-Zg3mWLSHoEqfNgJxz2OuCvFWcKpNFs3eGRS-Msr_XF8PiLhPdQdqn1zN_sE14ooTEE2liJxn6a4o8hZKmd2E-PkhsXcE2S2olZ6eNHgszEfayOZUKBNeio/s1600/DSC01291.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2IPHfOe-4Yirxs7G_WxSj-Zg3mWLSHoEqfNgJxz2OuCvFWcKpNFs3eGRS-Msr_XF8PiLhPdQdqn1zN_sE14ooTEE2liJxn6a4o8hZKmd2E-PkhsXcE2S2olZ6eNHgszEfayOZUKBNeio/s400/DSC01291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612588255540671874" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMHiH8DWqw6hO7YukcjPEjjxbHeczvmPS2wKPKQK3TA6Vpproo3oJaq4sjaYhkeZfc6XVBniG0McMUtuBIEYQU1dLLIPNCEA3tqNFQ9ZtmklbYI6tgen_h5e0G9qxL_dHq7ZOACzCvLlk/s1600/DSC01293.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMHiH8DWqw6hO7YukcjPEjjxbHeczvmPS2wKPKQK3TA6Vpproo3oJaq4sjaYhkeZfc6XVBniG0McMUtuBIEYQU1dLLIPNCEA3tqNFQ9ZtmklbYI6tgen_h5e0G9qxL_dHq7ZOACzCvLlk/s400/DSC01293.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612588258995702770" border="0" /></a><span style="" lang="EN-US">There was a full week at the end of April when many of the museums were free and I took advantage, revisiting many of the famous works of art that I’d seen and sketched 6 years ago; many of which I made new sketches of. <span style=""> </span>Free entrance was also offered at the beautiful Boboli Garden which is attached to Palazzo Pitti, the gigantic palace that I live beside. <span style=""> </span>Shortly after this was Notte Bianca, a night when the streets and piazzas are full of art, music, and shows until the early hours of the morning, and we toured around the center with Giuseppe’s good friend from university and his girlfriend who came to visit. </span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmlQHekE-tfePEqJmfAXS8X7aw-61o82g91vLdJ7erMUFne_FiykBW69HZ-QFq80xQ1JnyGe9w15Um21FOz0YxeoAQ11yB-_wzkL0kMJ2nH4Z_iz5wmYOcHJB_Yy-cpHckCz55K4wFlTAw/s1600/DSC01369.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmlQHekE-tfePEqJmfAXS8X7aw-61o82g91vLdJ7erMUFne_FiykBW69HZ-QFq80xQ1JnyGe9w15Um21FOz0YxeoAQ11yB-_wzkL0kMJ2nH4Z_iz5wmYOcHJB_Yy-cpHckCz55K4wFlTAw/s400/DSC01369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612595781427968498" border="0" /></a></p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabx2haZG_aEuqOrEnm-IC4O-LNDxoijgVl4vqMdGILxEzGaYaQ3UFN-XP2gQgLXEUq875lAZMlp6wVYM1g3HF1ZOIlTuy2IKPID1tdlQaKxr-WYEprPjTEJihmLsrzJM9L8EDDuo74Go4/s1600/DSC01368.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabx2haZG_aEuqOrEnm-IC4O-LNDxoijgVl4vqMdGILxEzGaYaQ3UFN-XP2gQgLXEUq875lAZMlp6wVYM1g3HF1ZOIlTuy2IKPID1tdlQaKxr-WYEprPjTEJihmLsrzJM9L8EDDuo74Go4/s400/DSC01368.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612592843546971906" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56tg9bdKD2GUBoLp2GtCXDEqcLQVuKBjRnoo8kP1dcHF8abAlYCZ68LCU28b-3NhyphenhyphendjddO-WM03uTvhZhTefSveQu6FP12Y1xscdUHnejbf2ZSrdTrIo9-M8fidFNhCPlxDgmDknK0o-v/s1600/DSC01339.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56tg9bdKD2GUBoLp2GtCXDEqcLQVuKBjRnoo8kP1dcHF8abAlYCZ68LCU28b-3NhyphenhyphendjddO-WM03uTvhZhTefSveQu6FP12Y1xscdUHnejbf2ZSrdTrIo9-M8fidFNhCPlxDgmDknK0o-v/s400/DSC01339.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612595776045910962" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_XiMeibffju38dQ021JCInMX1f0i7sdd_zu5b0eK16vZyBFvIkgs4F9XvbSyluM0eUewbYvTdHzG1CVlBdcwuME-d6TPIQCWmldZB_iCt5yzJkwdFsdn7tNlHdx4DgPZKciEN4g4L8MJO/s1600/DSC01342.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_XiMeibffju38dQ021JCInMX1f0i7sdd_zu5b0eK16vZyBFvIkgs4F9XvbSyluM0eUewbYvTdHzG1CVlBdcwuME-d6TPIQCWmldZB_iCt5yzJkwdFsdn7tNlHdx4DgPZKciEN4g4L8MJO/s400/DSC01342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612592842074263586" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikdrJhaCodARuoR4QiM1dylFbpp4J2PKG27prkBrFMnnnwuxVLDfyae6gHb79E5juSFKPHNnbe8XTKGuOYt-jEr7uUbnOhFclht3O7haHAt99YwctghyvCn-Xt7OwazY-l68b4z7Tb2A5I/s1600/DSC01340.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 106px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikdrJhaCodARuoR4QiM1dylFbpp4J2PKG27prkBrFMnnnwuxVLDfyae6gHb79E5juSFKPHNnbe8XTKGuOYt-jEr7uUbnOhFclht3O7haHAt99YwctghyvCn-Xt7OwazY-l68b4z7Tb2A5I/s400/DSC01340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612592837175659794" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="" lang="EN-US">Over Easter (Pasqua) weekend I joined forces with a Canadian and an Austrian friend, Hailey and Hemma, to provide some entertainment in the piazzas of Florence with the hopes of making a little money.<span style=""> </span>The girls sang and played the guitar and I drew caricatures. We tried a few strategic locations in the center to avoid the zones of the polizia (police) and over the course of 3 hours <span style=""> </span>we made 15 Euro….so 5 Euro each. Then we went and bought gelato which left 2 Euro each. Not exactly an efficient way to make money but definitely amusing. As the girls sang and played Hemma’s beautiful songs, I secretly sketched the bystanders and tried to finish quickly so I could give them the drawings before they carried on. This made people really happy. I discovered the best method was to draw the kids which usually prompted the giving of some change into our hat from the parents ;) Even better than this though was when a dad brought his little boy over to give me un bacio (a kiss) and then his sister came running up shouting<span style=""> </span>Anch’io! Anch’io! (Me too! Me too!). So by the end of the session I ended up with 2 Euros and 2 kisses, niente male (not bad) :)<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">This is the sign I made:</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghtSFnl3WL9d5WDYNsXAACw-UT12uD4oAI_NMHOX1OPAdi3dRnd2T5hbXlfRDpl5JqJr8QcMJ2JcCOAg5v3N0KVZ7u_bwST1dirdRxnyz1bG_d3tTYEmxcWat5OciPYckon_nN35gk_sur/s1600/DSC01391.JPG"><br /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMLhQ4ymOX0jqoKigLnH8yqCbgI51KtDbOyw_8TMIlrkEsmynhUifxhFxe8yAg6HIq3KvNlBbScAxz5Uyzr-_gjTjgrPD9GVGiC_mbizXN5zpHfsK59ukn1KRDSbyOyl-mttoqhHi2xih/s1600/DSC01378.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMLhQ4ymOX0jqoKigLnH8yqCbgI51KtDbOyw_8TMIlrkEsmynhUifxhFxe8yAg6HIq3KvNlBbScAxz5Uyzr-_gjTjgrPD9GVGiC_mbizXN5zpHfsK59ukn1KRDSbyOyl-mttoqhHi2xih/s400/DSC01378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612595787611980434" border="0" /></a><span style="" lang="EN-US">Too bad I wasn't thinking and took this video vertically, but it shows the kids that kissed me:)<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwlxzWM5DaZvZ0DfFzKplGLAJm8yPqjr5uXCiDMF2m7Tgcsn_amDPhjbeZ3p5_nEkQbSUNuQBEyLZ7W_58Oxg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">On Easter Sunday I also watched th</span><span style="" lang="EN-US">e traditional events in front of the Duomo, including the Florentine flag throwers (Martinho!!) and a fancy cart loaded with fireworks. I was reminded of my first visit to Florence when I was in high school; we arrived on Easter Sunday amongst the crowds and chaos and watched this same show.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghtSFnl3WL9d5WDYNsXAACw-UT12uD4oAI_NMHOX1OPAdi3dRnd2T5hbXlfRDpl5JqJr8QcMJ2JcCOAg5v3N0KVZ7u_bwST1dirdRxnyz1bG_d3tTYEmxcWat5OciPYckon_nN35gk_sur/s1600/DSC01391.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghtSFnl3WL9d5WDYNsXAACw-UT12uD4oAI_NMHOX1OPAdi3dRnd2T5hbXlfRDpl5JqJr8QcMJ2JcCOAg5v3N0KVZ7u_bwST1dirdRxnyz1bG_d3tTYEmxcWat5OciPYckon_nN35gk_sur/s400/DSC01391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612595792165710466" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Another recent event in Florence was the Mostra di Artiginale, a collection of products of all types on display and for sale, made by craftsmen from all over the world. We ate at the Moroccan stand and were given a miniature vase with our names written on it in Arabic, so cute.</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_ZdhCy5tkZkU47qVx58F6G9IfJ4t31WTC_uKu98U1fvxj8qdpIr9Rmz_8FG25sgxxbFs6kLEadkkGBEOE_aePN21Y2OihkK8OY_axL4jPZ7kZruGczK8syAR-OAhRLKbGOEy6HrD8sFt/s1600/DSC01521.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQI4cWeuzQ495oCU_qll-n21Lb77HoGsVi2tJF55Fio47f3BnTYlFVRS5O9tH0_v2mJiY4Mt1BgNpgZb1fUVXPSpLPeWhrdKqXyD7J0CbAL-xUZ1EsrjGk1KvU5mbnJMvb2d5fjNfyILX/s1600/DSC01510.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQI4cWeuzQ495oCU_qll-n21Lb77HoGsVi2tJF55Fio47f3BnTYlFVRS5O9tH0_v2mJiY4Mt1BgNpgZb1fUVXPSpLPeWhrdKqXyD7J0CbAL-xUZ1EsrjGk1KvU5mbnJMvb2d5fjNfyILX/s400/DSC01510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612597361691590242" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqcHd4wgErkHZHe-lYvWPvUH5TgexRk8qx5Bz-vF2wJZbBPvftapyBithS9jWCojEl-5pbg__7IAAhNOEqhtWZAn4p1LgwdwRhWtyrSCzjxf_MhqGY-7kYzN_cWLHuTr7eke0Vm3A3c0vG/s1600/DSC01511.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqcHd4wgErkHZHe-lYvWPvUH5TgexRk8qx5Bz-vF2wJZbBPvftapyBithS9jWCojEl-5pbg__7IAAhNOEqhtWZAn4p1LgwdwRhWtyrSCzjxf_MhqGY-7kYzN_cWLHuTr7eke0Vm3A3c0vG/s400/DSC01511.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612597359492885474" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">The italian poster boy:<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_ZdhCy5tkZkU47qVx58F6G9IfJ4t31WTC_uKu98U1fvxj8qdpIr9Rmz_8FG25sgxxbFs6kLEadkkGBEOE_aePN21Y2OihkK8OY_axL4jPZ7kZruGczK8syAR-OAhRLKbGOEy6HrD8sFt/s1600/DSC01521.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl_ZdhCy5tkZkU47qVx58F6G9IfJ4t31WTC_uKu98U1fvxj8qdpIr9Rmz_8FG25sgxxbFs6kLEadkkGBEOE_aePN21Y2OihkK8OY_axL4jPZ7kZruGczK8syAR-OAhRLKbGOEy6HrD8sFt/s400/DSC01521.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612597366512940370" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">That following weekend we arranged a trip to Cinque Terre which a series of 5 towns on the west coast of Italy in the Liguria region, connected by walking trails. Friday night we drove to Pisa and stayed with Veronica before catching the train at 6am the next morning to continue the journey. We got there nice and early, before most of the tourists arrived, which was great to catch the first breathtaking views and<span style=""> </span>scope out the peaceful streets of the first town, Riomaggiore.<span style=""> </span>We took the walking path to the next town, Manarola, and from there hopped on the train to Corniglia. By that time the weather had really warmed up and I was dying for a break at the beach that I’d read about in my mom’s Italy guide book which she’d left behind for me. </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0KGBXa8IGLmW3HLdqVHiHJuSidZwf7YAShUuBWc1knaYL9MDcZKs4BJdE3iumkrMHaz3YIbv7qFqw48LtiauV4m1-l45nwA-OHfNBPxGY7ZjCVObT5x1MuzPxYCLu1GRx4EyAJl6VIO59/s1600/DSC01531.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0KGBXa8IGLmW3HLdqVHiHJuSidZwf7YAShUuBWc1knaYL9MDcZKs4BJdE3iumkrMHaz3YIbv7qFqw48LtiauV4m1-l45nwA-OHfNBPxGY7ZjCVObT5x1MuzPxYCLu1GRx4EyAJl6VIO59/s400/DSC01531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612597370520970258" border="0" /></a></div> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPbDvudg_rEnjiDD26D4KUC1DPqTh8KiJ_nd4BCWeXhSha-zICIOfQLh9CP9cdFUtEcgHOLJ9tF2WZNypTegpacL_W4T8oguz9_s5_dtT6UtPV0vox4RMdh1SmQoqQI_YXr92527RiJGf/s1600/DSC01542.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPbDvudg_rEnjiDD26D4KUC1DPqTh8KiJ_nd4BCWeXhSha-zICIOfQLh9CP9cdFUtEcgHOLJ9tF2WZNypTegpacL_W4T8oguz9_s5_dtT6UtPV0vox4RMdh1SmQoqQI_YXr92527RiJGf/s400/DSC01542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612599541970016834" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNEZtuOxUig9ihTtbniIXVoOaRMzQ2wnniD2r1cWatxvGeyleuavC-EKOIDguvQihS79cJnaCHe2GZ_BqCAyhn3koyIFYqwS6jGDEH8kA31s1MP_zgrR6Xqb9aNb-zWE9TkZUT0JJJyLt/s1600/DSC01534.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNEZtuOxUig9ihTtbniIXVoOaRMzQ2wnniD2r1cWatxvGeyleuavC-EKOIDguvQihS79cJnaCHe2GZ_BqCAyhn3koyIFYqwS6jGDEH8kA31s1MP_zgrR6Xqb9aNb-zWE9TkZUT0JJJyLt/s400/DSC01534.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612597376293273458" border="0" /></a></p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLB2djCYleOXDsRNGVY_J6XicmcetL5I4tJ7FpsSjPdpS01hMoUMSAgNgs4iceYcngTtMkVGrZ0cY4N2Yf7fpEXo9euywxIbINrCN7Dt_6PZ5Ph-6keKMVTs7EZE3lPu3fpIZQltMMKpL0/s1600/DSC01708.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLB2djCYleOXDsRNGVY_J6XicmcetL5I4tJ7FpsSjPdpS01hMoUMSAgNgs4iceYcngTtMkVGrZ0cY4N2Yf7fpEXo9euywxIbINrCN7Dt_6PZ5Ph-6keKMVTs7EZE3lPu3fpIZQltMMKpL0/s400/DSC01708.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612609565497686594" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOJyH8Pa_Fqw5ckZ5CDo_WdpeJPyX_W4L0R2O2SQ8GNSxw3oJOW-c3KPk2mlkEeaUMyeyYCYLBNorx8KpQauWWOK8pJgDUL8Q1pGd671J6pumAtBB4rzc0pdwyVty8RxEMjlH9sIYOPtKb/s1600/DSC01696.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOJyH8Pa_Fqw5ckZ5CDo_WdpeJPyX_W4L0R2O2SQ8GNSxw3oJOW-c3KPk2mlkEeaUMyeyYCYLBNorx8KpQauWWOK8pJgDUL8Q1pGd671J6pumAtBB4rzc0pdwyVty8RxEMjlH9sIYOPtKb/s400/DSC01696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612609561182334930" border="0" /></a>There are so many types of cactus' (yeah i know it should be cacti but it feels pretentious) in this region, some of them are humongous!!!!<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbq3k_a9MttdaIC1rUdeULUamXSKAQ3S3E-V-ntOGln9PcX4do7rE5JBF_ghh98tq1VIVPEkgtM2k9fNo3SrFqEmyQq7d1IZi-tm-seqxPOqG1d5NoF_B_Mc_N-UcNsCuY3H2resxvFZfI/s1600/DSC01665.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbq3k_a9MttdaIC1rUdeULUamXSKAQ3S3E-V-ntOGln9PcX4do7rE5JBF_ghh98tq1VIVPEkgtM2k9fNo3SrFqEmyQq7d1IZi-tm-seqxPOqG1d5NoF_B_Mc_N-UcNsCuY3H2resxvFZfI/s400/DSC01665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612608404376800594" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfWQ54raOObH1TvgUnZ19gssyJB30bAPb3BaWUtKiRFp87NJOVPkEP6YldbcZDzYN4ZvJfhWac7X8TovP1VDMPsS62mdndWRvQyEhdlCpOub3PYPDEwE9ONS7quTCn_Jmt2HbFD_KGAtq/s1600/DSC01599.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfWQ54raOObH1TvgUnZ19gssyJB30bAPb3BaWUtKiRFp87NJOVPkEP6YldbcZDzYN4ZvJfhWac7X8TovP1VDMPsS62mdndWRvQyEhdlCpOub3PYPDEwE9ONS7quTCn_Jmt2HbFD_KGAtq/s400/DSC01599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612605762735075138" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">The directions given were a bit strange and Giuseppe was doubtful but I insisted that we forge ahead to find it. I questioned a local person and he confirmed the existence of the beach, pointing us in the right direction. The book described that the entrance to the beach was an abandoned trail tunnel and that at the entrance to the tunnel you ring the doorbell and then someone buzzes you in. Then you have to walk 10 minutes to arrive through the other side of the tunnel where you pay the entrance fee of 5 Euro. <span style=""> </span>However the book must have been a bit outdated….</span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoKsl-wC2ZgSdvzF8K17jGjxckITSdkynUD5mn9MGOMv7WAjuOK0-gYlsjLKjyZ3lI5xHZUZa0WS_IENbtQaiv44mhWebeKPbdUrE4Gut_08Q1CosfKukxqDOxpkDekhHsNR0IJOpHndN/s1600/DSC01640.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoKsl-wC2ZgSdvzF8K17jGjxckITSdkynUD5mn9MGOMv7WAjuOK0-gYlsjLKjyZ3lI5xHZUZa0WS_IENbtQaiv44mhWebeKPbdUrE4Gut_08Q1CosfKukxqDOxpkDekhHsNR0IJOpHndN/s400/DSC01640.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612608400314559538" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">I was ecstatic when we found the train tunnel entrance. And then the doorbell! <span style=""> </span>We pushed the button and waited, pushed it again, and waited….it appeared to be out of order. Giuseppe and I looked at each other wondering what to do next and I turned on the flashlight tool on my cell phone to peer into the train tunnel. There was no end in sight but at my urging we hesitantly walked ahead, stumbling and getting spooked by the sounds coming from the dark around us. As the light from the entrance was disappearing we slowed down and eventually came to a stop. Then we decided to turn around. For all we knew we might encounter wild animals, or violent hobos, or maybe the other end would be sealed if we even made it. I felt robbed as we retreated in defeat and was straining to think of another solution, after all, the local man said the beach existed.<span style=""> </span>Then just as we begrudgingly returned to the main path, we watched another guy turning into the path from which we’d come…… YES!!!!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">We caught up with him and Giuseppe asked him if he knew of the beach; he said that we was heading there right now if we wanted to join him! I was ecstatic! He had a flashlight with him but after a minute or so, it started burning out. He said it wasn’t a problem for him as he knew the way and could do it in the dark. There was actually a little sidewalk in the side of the tunnel which was level as opposed to the center area that we’d walked down previously, full of holes and garbage. I turned on my cellphone light and took the lead, walking quickly in hopes of reaching the end faster. It seemed to take forever! At one point a train passed through the new tunnel which was built exactly beside, but the rumbling felt like a train was about to come pummel us over! </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNToakJOQQ6BEzmCdXl7v4NYFwiJxRL04rYnXcvRqQ60G8s8bhEt0tKT70L0pWOCsSIJ5Diq8DghyTtKHdJ6IfQY2bp27ap6J4K1FmDGCTXUuSQoRURvLaPcSWMhCC0YFP08miKRuBbcRt/s1600/DSC01622.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghw1j05529seA_V-nH6KPzOhgBzxzvEnnxhicobUe7gFRTdfcFENQqemMx6SbAVRoifOgMBUDwIY2HQqkqzqa-77Sv9uWjUKlUqvXZjRAISvKarMz5HTj_nblptWq9aZEOPLX1JdaxeIL0/s1600/DSC01619.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghw1j05529seA_V-nH6KPzOhgBzxzvEnnxhicobUe7gFRTdfcFENQqemMx6SbAVRoifOgMBUDwIY2HQqkqzqa-77Sv9uWjUKlUqvXZjRAISvKarMz5HTj_nblptWq9aZEOPLX1JdaxeIL0/s400/DSC01619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612605764916477762" border="0" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">A giant fig tree:<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNToakJOQQ6BEzmCdXl7v4NYFwiJxRL04rYnXcvRqQ60G8s8bhEt0tKT70L0pWOCsSIJ5Diq8DghyTtKHdJ6IfQY2bp27ap6J4K1FmDGCTXUuSQoRURvLaPcSWMhCC0YFP08miKRuBbcRt/s1600/DSC01622.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNToakJOQQ6BEzmCdXl7v4NYFwiJxRL04rYnXcvRqQ60G8s8bhEt0tKT70L0pWOCsSIJ5Diq8DghyTtKHdJ6IfQY2bp27ap6J4K1FmDGCTXUuSQoRURvLaPcSWMhCC0YFP08miKRuBbcRt/s400/DSC01622.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612605773106572562" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Finally we saw the light and emerged into a wild area of vegetation. We thanked Simone, the guy who accompanied us through, as he went to join a group of his friends barbequing next to the entrance. Giuseppe and I continued down the path until we could the rocky beach below. The next challenge was figuring out how to reach it. We kept going until a steep path down the hill came into view. We carefully descended (my badlands hill climbing skills coming into good use) and we had arrived! There weren’t so many people there but considering the challenging arrival, more than you’d think. And the other particular thing about this beach other than the mode of arrival, which makes sense given these circumstances, is that it was a nudist beach!<br /></span></p><span style="" lang="EN-US">I somewhat knew this as I’d read in my mom’s guidebook that it was ‘clothing optional’ but of course, given the option, almost everyone there had opted in one direction. We scoped out a spot on the rocky shore, spread out the one tiny hand t<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span></span><span style="" lang="EN-US">owel that we had, and well, when in Rome….! </span><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvU8eCRPpd0_nMrG-hjtiG5FD5ELX2Vspmk63b-BLiMdJz_paDJufeHxuDnvWaLZnvmt9Em5QTs3zXUK0Sn6Xb62sWs6B21Ap_OyTuT-LyuQVIKrMS7BmYrFpUMElraqaX7GN0h7wFNLFp/s1600/DSC01630.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvU8eCRPpd0_nMrG-hjtiG5FD5ELX2Vspmk63b-BLiMdJz_paDJufeHxuDnvWaLZnvmt9Em5QTs3zXUK0Sn6Xb62sWs6B21Ap_OyTuT-LyuQVIKrMS7BmYrFpUMElraqaX7GN0h7wFNLFp/s400/DSC01630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612605778597585730" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtDueamu2CC2vG34nZQYiPceTCF6GEgdByku0etGA6pTnY5J9VJ0vacGtFuTbQR7LlCzdMe6laJnVtdu9aDl1vczegUn6KGJNvzV_BmUADcA-VHa0401TA9xJkOqLE8DmDdSNJZPBvzWE/s1600/DSC01625.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtDueamu2CC2vG34nZQYiPceTCF6GEgdByku0etGA6pTnY5J9VJ0vacGtFuTbQR7LlCzdMe6laJnVtdu9aDl1vczegUn6KGJNvzV_BmUADcA-VHa0401TA9xJkOqLE8DmDdSNJZPBvzWE/s400/DSC01625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612605775575457634" border="0" /></a><span style="" lang="EN-US"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">It wasn’t long before I was ready to plunge into the Mediterranean and I bravely surpassed the other people wading knee-deep in mild discomfort from the temperature of the water (most Italians don’t consider the sea to be a swimmable temperature until mid June!). I was in complete bliss after the initial cold shock passed, and flitted around like a mermaid while Giuseppe watched in disbelief, inching his way into the water, retreating a bit, and then inching in a bit deeper. Finally, against his own better judgement, my little Calabrese made it all the way out, shivering beside me. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Over the next couple hours we ate the lunch we’d packed, soaked up the sun, and went for another more swim before packing up. We definitely had an experience off the regular tourist path, how amazing! Thank you to my mom’s outdated guide book!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">From there we took the train to the last town, Monterosso, skipping Vernazza as we knew we’d be heading back there in the evening to spend the night in the room we’d reserved. Monterosso was the largest of the towns with a long beachfront and tons of restaurants. We took our time wandering through the streets and ate some gelato before backtracking to Vernazza in exhaustion. The room we had rented was like a little apartment as the door opened up directly onto a charming little street. We were lucky to find it as I had called at least a dozen places to find something available and affordable. (Yes I’m able to conduct telephone conversations in Italian now!) Despite our fatigue we cleaned ourselves up and headed to the only bar in the little town, catching the end of a live music performance out front before calling it a night. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMk8GOhdjFCTZcQPRrbTFlhEJaXEs4CU5-iZ4RILhCxVNqGuKOcR0U8_uLU4hlBjKpgiatTYRCAInDvwcJ9MSnxCOJbErou34rJK1j0VguDCj6x4dtasOBni2IobTkzciSO9HLf24PhRgM/s1600/DSC01689.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMk8GOhdjFCTZcQPRrbTFlhEJaXEs4CU5-iZ4RILhCxVNqGuKOcR0U8_uLU4hlBjKpgiatTYRCAInDvwcJ9MSnxCOJbErou34rJK1j0VguDCj6x4dtasOBni2IobTkzciSO9HLf24PhRgM/s400/DSC01689.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612609559570883074" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiXgwDi1L43nKIitjGKTT6WXtdaVWQNCEukCoQXRhQhyphenhyphenRweFQMFzhwZa1CsANGzvI_11mNsWx9C5PbzWCBo8WH0HLMvgO4DtO-1Bz5Wm9ZJRRGlN26IOJ5cA1jfv4oPhGHwYUVtwNvsd33/s1600/DSC01687.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiXgwDi1L43nKIitjGKTT6WXtdaVWQNCEukCoQXRhQhyphenhyphenRweFQMFzhwZa1CsANGzvI_11mNsWx9C5PbzWCBo8WH0HLMvgO4DtO-1Bz5Wm9ZJRRGlN26IOJ5cA1jfv4oPhGHwYUVtwNvsd33/s400/DSC01687.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612608416261076594" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ISmvSGsipNmMxeGdhP5HfhgMkfk43sInQgtFwWlYf2K4W7NXLW7nYyk151SW7IiKF7ZVk7XPD1Pg4umAYcK8ypr4MtgqbSBLK5HuQys33OEt6G7JPco8RLolvytnguAMcgsHb5EDRNIK/s1600/DSC01681.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ISmvSGsipNmMxeGdhP5HfhgMkfk43sInQgtFwWlYf2K4W7NXLW7nYyk151SW7IiKF7ZVk7XPD1Pg4umAYcK8ypr4MtgqbSBLK5HuQys33OEt6G7JPco8RLolvytnguAMcgsHb5EDRNIK/s400/DSC01681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612608413674939058" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUPat2rmT6XdNoWwwPFxl8r36p02dLMwwEGB1I1Kkc95LWQw2B52qwtRCGgusTQFComUXATy5vkzvVFrV3oZJQoYRyMIUTBAc_Mas12w8jiKPVcedpFP7EF1iynsJ1gb9U7N67P0bVWF7/s1600/DSC01666.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUPat2rmT6XdNoWwwPFxl8r36p02dLMwwEGB1I1Kkc95LWQw2B52qwtRCGgusTQFComUXATy5vkzvVFrV3oZJQoYRyMIUTBAc_Mas12w8jiKPVcedpFP7EF1iynsJ1gb9U7N67P0bVWF7/s400/DSC01666.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612608410332614418" border="0" /></a></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9HVM8Z9sPGP-iDOVwPXOT8UFqTEuDBwuwjrXzg6JQeHvb3r4vwmQQwo8wHs9VStWUvSGRyzM_1bOWN-19czVP6qjDc8OCFQDB9b0rM84PpHcrGBUdL5LDW5mcaChSO_p0e-vacCgx_qIR/s1600/DSC01735.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9HVM8Z9sPGP-iDOVwPXOT8UFqTEuDBwuwjrXzg6JQeHvb3r4vwmQQwo8wHs9VStWUvSGRyzM_1bOWN-19czVP6qjDc8OCFQDB9b0rM84PpHcrGBUdL5LDW5mcaChSO_p0e-vacCgx_qIR/s400/DSC01735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612609568309292274" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">The next day we headed back to the beach in Monterosso for a few hours before catching </span><span style="" lang="EN-US">the boat to Portovenere, another town not technically part of the cinque terre but located nearby and is equally beautiful, with a castle perched on a cliff next to the sea. As we slowly weaved through the town (I was still soooo tired from the day before) we made a point to scope out a nice restaurant for dinner. As we had smartly brought a lot of food with us, Giuseppe was sick of his paninis and I was sick of my rice cakes so we decided we earned a nice seafood dinner on the coast, yum</span> :)<span style="" lang="EN-US"> After eating we caught the bus back to the train station and made it back to Pisa that night to crash again with Veronica, before driving back to Florence early the next morning so Giuseppe could arrive at work on time. What an amazing trip!!</span></p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLH7Ar2_D4kJ-mTAdlFvyx35lo-j_MkC3ua4WtMNRWB7WoIUcUPK_Lr0urxaALjGKEvUP6O9QFSeAsDx-mGqDzQIMHPgVH4dW_xZgxYbffR3ulEE0NCmR2hZBDQ6crbAVzAf2vAfj9Hf3V/s1600/DSC01537.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLH7Ar2_D4kJ-mTAdlFvyx35lo-j_MkC3ua4WtMNRWB7WoIUcUPK_Lr0urxaALjGKEvUP6O9QFSeAsDx-mGqDzQIMHPgVH4dW_xZgxYbffR3ulEE0NCmR2hZBDQ6crbAVzAf2vAfj9Hf3V/s400/DSC01537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612599543991273666" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CBjSalxxLuqFsC_2a5vN32OUvkqaxnzesW85MSntp0y1vV0cXYwgZ-K7UYGy-zvkebSTEfhFz_utKRYBdEOzHHS5ZfAUGt0ID1VTldOFaV-8krhuwJCKoYd4bO8wilABeRMi7Jb0MsiU/s1600/DSC01573.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2CBjSalxxLuqFsC_2a5vN32OUvkqaxnzesW85MSntp0y1vV0cXYwgZ-K7UYGy-zvkebSTEfhFz_utKRYBdEOzHHS5ZfAUGt0ID1VTldOFaV-8krhuwJCKoYd4bO8wilABeRMi7Jb0MsiU/s400/DSC01573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612599554746187874" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkcsqjipb5uSInHuC0ojBGnVEHHUKEtYmh9EeWTaL1_iTFrbFGwF43gQGCLPVtKxiO5IGd0kY4zksVuNicDb45RHvazziFV9q4b7PzoSJOCg6bSi2iO4Q9QvC0R_rgJvCoYWrhyphenhyphen0Z_eEz1/s1600/DSC01588.JPG"><br /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">For the last game of the calcio (soccer) season Giuseppe and I bought tickets to watch Florence versus Bologna. When we were in the train station we heard a chorus of voices as the Bologna fans arrived, singing, chanting, swearing… I got to witness the Italian soccer fever first hand, very amusing! Unfortunately it was one of very few rainy days here and we were in the section without a roof, but thankfully Giuseppe insisted on bringing raincoats despite my positivity (non piovera`! = it won’t rain!)<span style=""> </span>because we wouldn’t have lasted long otherwise. By the end we were soaked and frozen so we snuck out early from the tie game and beat the crowd back to the train. When we made it back to the main train station, the timing worked out perfectly as Veronica was just arriving from Pisa and she had brought with her a surprise, their brother, Antonio, who now lives in Milan and works as a firefighter. It was my first time meeting him and we all had fun playing darts and eating together that evening.</span></p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60mdf7pFHuzA4oVywqWqYPHfGiaZat4wXN8VTJUqjXRyfvdLVI1kkCb-dh9NEP7iD9jfWC_Tm0MomWY1ufT5jnM2Oko8lZ5rX2933a6ppRy_0DF8PZbpOC9FFB7HGg1PYRUCYM_nsEmaJ/s1600/DSC01814.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi60mdf7pFHuzA4oVywqWqYPHfGiaZat4wXN8VTJUqjXRyfvdLVI1kkCb-dh9NEP7iD9jfWC_Tm0MomWY1ufT5jnM2Oko8lZ5rX2933a6ppRy_0DF8PZbpOC9FFB7HGg1PYRUCYM_nsEmaJ/s400/DSC01814.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612611199034529154" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWfmgI6qujNrhNAcSpwDUupwHjfQOAOrCdHSNs-DGrU97jjCPSNXbVy10GD90WbbWhG1BGfQjU9iqmA9plZWzlDcFefHDuyiGn_XnVoI3-QvLG9mf-3IsDsCOyR6TfWFJknOGvigkbHKn/s1600/DSC01810.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWfmgI6qujNrhNAcSpwDUupwHjfQOAOrCdHSNs-DGrU97jjCPSNXbVy10GD90WbbWhG1BGfQjU9iqmA9plZWzlDcFefHDuyiGn_XnVoI3-QvLG9mf-3IsDsCOyR6TfWFJknOGvigkbHKn/s400/DSC01810.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612611197341003794" border="0" /></a>A kid wearing a sweater for the Florentine team that says 'Nato perfetto' (Born perfect) which is funny because it's common knowledge in italy that the Florentines are rather snobby and egotistical:<br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMAw7jD6oQWOjYwPW5xcOpA-94yBvMydyMXOkIPME0ugdrvqFsq17wVqSqgdhp1zFHTfK2SE7BCuTllc541LO_eYz6lxMwbQBwsTSXHkWhVyRhogcK8IneEJdHsSi-jehopGxApvqeA3m/s1600/DSC01821.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMAw7jD6oQWOjYwPW5xcOpA-94yBvMydyMXOkIPME0ugdrvqFsq17wVqSqgdhp1zFHTfK2SE7BCuTllc541LO_eYz6lxMwbQBwsTSXHkWhVyRhogcK8IneEJdHsSi-jehopGxApvqeA3m/s400/DSC01821.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612621154546037906" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Another interesting experience was visiting I Gigli, the centro commerciale (shopping center) that I’d been hearing about. However, despite my curiosity, it was quite horrific. It’s really like the shopping malls in north America, huge stores, everyone buying, buying, buying. I didn’t think these existed in Italy! I wish they didn’t.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSaSDzYxvCfM_JH7A3YiEeyPxvODSIl8UEGlhAKALOALJvqs3dgcJ-v6jBXO2lMXsRnHlxjNm133KwoFf9LubVd2tIAbHUvposSFWngxHnH4WP1bUh6E_uKqPAt5CsCv2kksjycS9ld42V/s1600/DSC01799.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSaSDzYxvCfM_JH7A3YiEeyPxvODSIl8UEGlhAKALOALJvqs3dgcJ-v6jBXO2lMXsRnHlxjNm133KwoFf9LubVd2tIAbHUvposSFWngxHnH4WP1bUh6E_uKqPAt5CsCv2kksjycS9ld42V/s400/DSC01799.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612611186634402018" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">In other american influenced news, as some hard core fans like Alison already know, Jersey Shore is currently filming their new season in Florence and I was lucky (?) enough to encounter them the other weekend at the popular outdoor club, Central Park. I tried to get a picture for Al but the best I could do was this blur….</span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhercB8DXIOsIYDs2nGztpPk3keAEp2zfhqyGKFj9ieXEn8Si9tbKRjD1hKPdLbcHbjBLaMKNv1QUPXCBWmFLn7Zo1FNsjQsHY-8gosEpgPd7PzXwkf4tdSXRdxhlI5YznbqFkHPoqS5q1n/s1600/DSC01843.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhercB8DXIOsIYDs2nGztpPk3keAEp2zfhqyGKFj9ieXEn8Si9tbKRjD1hKPdLbcHbjBLaMKNv1QUPXCBWmFLn7Zo1FNsjQsHY-8gosEpgPd7PzXwkf4tdSXRdxhlI5YznbqFkHPoqS5q1n/s400/DSC01843.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612621164423890866" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">I’ve managed to find some work but not as a waitress as I was planning. I’m working on the travel blogs for Caribbean-on-line and Florence-on-line for an American man that I met here. It’s added a little structure to my week and also a little income which I am very happy to have</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="">J</span></span><span style="" lang="EN-US"><span style=""> </span>Also I’m currently tutoring a university student, Stefano, in English conversation as preparation for the summer when he’ll be working on his thesis in Germany. It’s also good practice for me as I’m currently seeking a teaching English job in the south of Italy for the fall…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">I will be writing the CILS exam (Italian language certification for foreigners) next week and am hoping that all my studying will serve me well. Between having my own tutor, Valentina, a conversation buddy, Daniele, a boyfriend, Giuseppe, and 3 hours of intensive grammar lessons every Tuesday you’d think I would be feeling pretty confident but I’ll likely still be cramming in the days before. It’s all the little things, the articles, prepositions, irregular masculine/feminine nouns, that are hard to remember. Then there’s the listening part of the exam that is the hardest, in part because it’s usually played from a horrible quality cassette, mamma mia!</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Daniele multitasking in the typical italian fashion:<br /></span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOeNA1ZNE4lT_4Y3OGv32DxDc7uszsGSXjUoR1MLO80hfSg9QbyKqJovfOK1pcxmnu09hbe8o67mTgjkIuJXhgkYJihMQy3ee7xg4ok4LLCRh1NjpEqgqLyCRm4QXEXAnSUXM47AxogXFy/s1600/DSC01828.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOeNA1ZNE4lT_4Y3OGv32DxDc7uszsGSXjUoR1MLO80hfSg9QbyKqJovfOK1pcxmnu09hbe8o67mTgjkIuJXhgkYJihMQy3ee7xg4ok4LLCRh1NjpEqgqLyCRm4QXEXAnSUXM47AxogXFy/s400/DSC01828.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612621157313546546" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Today has been the day I’ve been dreaming of for so long…..I finally found a gluten free bakery! Star Bene, which I’d read about many months earlier after conducting intensive research on the internet, and had in fact visited, but left empty handed after learning that they only sell the gluten free items by order. At the time I was too overwhelmed by the list of breads that I didn’t bother place an order, but was reminded of this opportunity when I rode past another location closer to my neighborhood last week. I went in and inquired about making an order but they told me they didn’t take orders at this location.... Instead the lady told me to go to the other location that her son ran, where everything was gluten free. I told her that I had been to the other location but that they said they ONLY took orders and she explained that that was in fact an OTHER other location, very close to the location with ALL gluten free baking. She pinpointed it on the map and today I ventured there, indulging in an amazingly flakey spinach pastry and chocolate torte, among other things…. I had to catch up for lost time, heehee. Buono.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal">Rosie and I hugging the bear at the toy store:<br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHgBCuBLoA1HUW2Vo-l05xcRGioOiZCbivixPE1ousEaPLwnMIwpb-QuFv_OXtyOYyFsjj40B9odz3CSOsWwWohHru5nX9xN2mDFoRk6cbkgDhX6xJkOqaGs1j7o8bluaeTrq77lFKC9t/s1600/DSC01836.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHgBCuBLoA1HUW2Vo-l05xcRGioOiZCbivixPE1ousEaPLwnMIwpb-QuFv_OXtyOYyFsjj40B9odz3CSOsWwWohHru5nX9xN2mDFoRk6cbkgDhX6xJkOqaGs1j7o8bluaeTrq77lFKC9t/s400/DSC01836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612621166133248274" border="0" /></a><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US">Giuseppe, Paolo, and Hailey one night at the Jazz Club:<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-US"> </span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8gGu2d-fnJ-jrL5zwJ9NDZrJxxYw8jPB79dh1sL0nRQgms1FDHY3WRzyET8a1KXTMwvoxoNfnqww6EchKkHbt_RfHyXBlvQpBhGYStk-E6bD0AGtZSr5H_i2KkMniHb04qzaqJbfwO_G/s1600/DSC01772.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8gGu2d-fnJ-jrL5zwJ9NDZrJxxYw8jPB79dh1sL0nRQgms1FDHY3WRzyET8a1KXTMwvoxoNfnqww6EchKkHbt_RfHyXBlvQpBhGYStk-E6bD0AGtZSr5H_i2KkMniHb04qzaqJbfwO_G/s400/DSC01772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612611185457509410" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Me singing a kids song about animals (in italian) that Giuseppe taught me:<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dymS3nGJCa7PaYfooTeiAtlBSRIh066-6OHrAB9pckKX_jm69KB2mwV7grKbFIUyO_7Ki9SIEHsnsJixqdlcg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-4120732950017262362011-04-08T06:40:00.000-07:002011-04-08T07:49:44.660-07:00La Primavera<span style="font-size:78%;">These pics are in Lucca, a cute city nearby:</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyv7iUjunx_i8JnDLnAdM6QiEZjJFCbR77mCKuJg0cn61TR1LdpVZgr-U2-4k-7B3cteIYeD3zco9ftDk5DSVYZjXqJtInGzfH6CTHhyphenhyphenQSIydW88tDIQGb_Siw0LHu1-YeujhOSu-RPAa/s1600/DSC01175.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmyv7iUjunx_i8JnDLnAdM6QiEZjJFCbR77mCKuJg0cn61TR1LdpVZgr-U2-4k-7B3cteIYeD3zco9ftDk5DSVYZjXqJtInGzfH6CTHhyphenhyphenQSIydW88tDIQGb_Siw0LHu1-YeujhOSu-RPAa/s400/DSC01175.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593224343053247266" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiglRKtL_PF-n6a8wf9h8PH0dJVoViGELQqlc44_imRpiMgaY_fhF1ctvrFl-Be-Qbbf2Cc2jo7IwQMtzYHFVXoMNs2Adj6NudPHwBn5ZieQQzmt5vXqoajSeQQyXMnj40Bg-7u4SSCnjEj/s1600/DSC01171.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiglRKtL_PF-n6a8wf9h8PH0dJVoViGELQqlc44_imRpiMgaY_fhF1ctvrFl-Be-Qbbf2Cc2jo7IwQMtzYHFVXoMNs2Adj6NudPHwBn5ZieQQzmt5vXqoajSeQQyXMnj40Bg-7u4SSCnjEj/s400/DSC01171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593217310845952546" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIT_q5_oDaFLJ4uYGFkx8UYGcdNjfXCcuYQVtfFDScDDaTrQAl-Qt_BzvWml027kUFq_EH7M6krEOc66WnoSm-8M_9lIlao8i0GPplx930l1NG0iwwCaA7MKDTPkH4HabRCrHR7y6VPLu5/s1600/DSC01178.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIT_q5_oDaFLJ4uYGFkx8UYGcdNjfXCcuYQVtfFDScDDaTrQAl-Qt_BzvWml027kUFq_EH7M6krEOc66WnoSm-8M_9lIlao8i0GPplx930l1NG0iwwCaA7MKDTPkH4HabRCrHR7y6VPLu5/s400/DSC01178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593217305614987170" border="0" /></a><br />It's official, the spring (la primavera) has arrived in Florence, and not just on the calender. Ever since March 21 the sun has been shining and the temperature has risen, some days up to the mid 20's! Although it cools off at night and my apartment remains like an igloo, it's a wonderful change. In fact right now I'm sitting on my balcony soaking up the sliver of sun that reaches through the rooftops:)<br /><br />Time continues to fly by and my job hunt continues. I did a waitressing trial one afternoon for a restaurant/wine bar and it went quite well, considering I had to ask the other waitress who was giving me instructions (in italian) to repeat herself over and over, and also that I asked a customer what 'orzo' meant after he gave me his after meal drink order. (Orzo means barley, which I knew, but forgot that the italians have a form of coffee with roasted barely!).<br /><br />I worked 3 and a half hours and earned 25 Euro. Even though it wasn't particularly busy that day, I worked up a good sweat weaving through the skinny aisles and up and down the stairs. In the height of summer I imagine it would be a sauna. Waitressing seems to be at the height of multitasking as every table is in a different stage and keeping track of who needs what and when is a challenge that I think can be enjoyable. It definitely requires your full attention, resulting in time passing quickly. However after lunch was the more boring tasks of restalking, sweeping the floors, ect. They said they would call me if they're short staffed one day. In the meantime, I'm waiting to hear back from an Irish Pub, where I had an interview so easy in comparison to the others, because it was in english!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MQPYZ6AzoxKd1oq_LWpXW_jPyDE4qG8Ucj4v-HKWIaePlLQbI4ukT9xoNGRVki-4ffIetz0iIJ2eHT8s-Lsodxovwhnmw90MU2rV81gf1faSSGqUvwZxfuTko9SXon930MELxwzie4l3/s1600/DSC01098.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHW7Ft-AA_UctTmR6xuui2yJgTD6AhDAd8K3bq8YBaRAifpGHLqfg8a7L7F2h3RBSvVjYZTCAgHQg_CC2Wlz14192fd6R36s24LxBVy1aJ7-wp055JGE1m1hsouXfsckRVX3ieQr81bY7x/s1600/DSC01165.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHW7Ft-AA_UctTmR6xuui2yJgTD6AhDAd8K3bq8YBaRAifpGHLqfg8a7L7F2h3RBSvVjYZTCAgHQg_CC2Wlz14192fd6R36s24LxBVy1aJ7-wp055JGE1m1hsouXfsckRVX3ieQr81bY7x/s400/DSC01165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593217298101080738" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A few weeks ago I also went to a interview for the job at the jazz restaurant which I was hoping for, which lasted 2 and a half hours, all in italian! However, it really wasn't much of an interview as the owner was doing most of the talking. After he read about my art background on my resume, the conversation immediately changed to this topic as he's not just passionate about food and music, but also art, of which the restaurant also hosts on it's walls.<br /><br />Thankfully this man from Puglia, in the south of italy, naturally speaks extremely slow, so I understood him really well! He showed me some of the art currently on exhibit, including some of his own, and lectured me on some deeper concepts about art and life as well as offering words of inspiration. It was funny and strange to be having this kind of conversation in italian, usually the subjects I'm capable of listening to and participating in are shallow, daily life things, of which I understand the vocabulary. As I had seen on the website that the restaurant hosted art exhibitions, I had brought along my mini portfolio on a whim and thank goodness I did because he really liked it and expressed interest in having my art on exhibition. At the end of the 'interview' he told me that his assistant was actually supposed to interview me that day because he had the flu, but she wasn't able to last minute and so he came in. However, as the assistant has no interest in art, it would've been a standard interview and I probably would've been dismissed upon knowing about my absence in july.<br /><br />I have since met with him again to show more artwork, for another (2 and 1/2 hours!) and he said there's the possibility to exhibit a couple of my prints in particular if I can get them printed really professionally. Unfortunately he prefers to show only originals and much of my work only exists only digitally. The originals i do have are currently in Canada but he also said that as he works at the Florence Biennale, a huge art exhibition in the fall, and he may be able to show my work there too if I bring my originals from Canada, and also if I produce more new work. Good motivation.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MQPYZ6AzoxKd1oq_LWpXW_jPyDE4qG8Ucj4v-HKWIaePlLQbI4ukT9xoNGRVki-4ffIetz0iIJ2eHT8s-Lsodxovwhnmw90MU2rV81gf1faSSGqUvwZxfuTko9SXon930MELxwzie4l3/s1600/DSC01098.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MQPYZ6AzoxKd1oq_LWpXW_jPyDE4qG8Ucj4v-HKWIaePlLQbI4ukT9xoNGRVki-4ffIetz0iIJ2eHT8s-Lsodxovwhnmw90MU2rV81gf1faSSGqUvwZxfuTko9SXon930MELxwzie4l3/s400/DSC01098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593217300968822194" border="0" /></a><br />This week I finished a watercolor painting, a gift for Giuseppe (my salsa dancing language exchange partner turned boyfriend), inspired from our day trip to the carnivale at Viareggio last month. Burlemacco is the name of the mascot for the carnivale, so instead my version is with Giusemacco, and he's holding our train tickets. In my hand is a slice of onion (cipolla) which I was confused to find in the bag of food I had asked Giuseppe to pack when we were off to catch the train in a rush. He had thought it was a slice of fennel (finocchio)! The original poster is from the 1930's.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyOtWF2K7Um4bF9Oz8o7GS8JeZ43bHEQ1L3qFtDM4lyi0riE9mLPgrrQAWwRj8yhL7YlG9zIWLin4WWWmvQcCH0vFCYbYyIuEeK35IWmLcZwdJCvH1PULzpK2LArpRzZ8G3FTRZiwbYLt/s1600/P1100455a.jpg"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBRAK13Et7ZUbIusLzHtINNML_GqaHOEQPhufHW4D6WU9bH-XnnRf_Co-7WFKWawqSwQ8Vm_wkspypeIKGczMqJKkt7Gr-aP9ujOVOQ50x4R6V9beYPa2vIUipqDfU64BK-N3VoLrJkuW/s1600/viareggiogj2gether.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBRAK13Et7ZUbIusLzHtINNML_GqaHOEQPhufHW4D6WU9bH-XnnRf_Co-7WFKWawqSwQ8Vm_wkspypeIKGczMqJKkt7Gr-aP9ujOVOQ50x4R6V9beYPa2vIUipqDfU64BK-N3VoLrJkuW/s400/viareggiogj2gether.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593220351536699682" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyOtWF2K7Um4bF9Oz8o7GS8JeZ43bHEQ1L3qFtDM4lyi0riE9mLPgrrQAWwRj8yhL7YlG9zIWLin4WWWmvQcCH0vFCYbYyIuEeK35IWmLcZwdJCvH1PULzpK2LArpRzZ8G3FTRZiwbYLt/s1600/P1100455a.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyOtWF2K7Um4bF9Oz8o7GS8JeZ43bHEQ1L3qFtDM4lyi0riE9mLPgrrQAWwRj8yhL7YlG9zIWLin4WWWmvQcCH0vFCYbYyIuEeK35IWmLcZwdJCvH1PULzpK2LArpRzZ8G3FTRZiwbYLt/s400/P1100455a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593220356249205106" border="0" /></a><br />March 17th was a new holiday for Italy as this year is the 150th birthday of the country and although this isn't the actual birthday (it's June, a regular holiday), the citizens were awarded an extra day off. The night of the 16th Florence was endowed in everything red, white, and green and three of the main piazzas were full of events, including the traditions flag throwers, and I spotted my cousin Martinho rocking his colorful tights:) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wE82pNFN80ihX6p-5itE_ErB3MAGeO39_Oiupmwq9NiGWLWtP0tDpkV6Tt1Io35gjqgiF2XVUMXkCeC-fNHGhosnckZZY0hDuGn_muJBcVv68WAtQpaKwlZSXh3vE_cOAgpa6vn22y6g/s1600/DSC01137.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wE82pNFN80ihX6p-5itE_ErB3MAGeO39_Oiupmwq9NiGWLWtP0tDpkV6Tt1Io35gjqgiF2XVUMXkCeC-fNHGhosnckZZY0hDuGn_muJBcVv68WAtQpaKwlZSXh3vE_cOAgpa6vn22y6g/s400/DSC01137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593211446822611394" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjund1Jsbq0GcjBtiooY-_PienXWvYck0USSXzH7285XUXeILUhC14VN1OQqRK5TfNzctDMEWR4oJOAxoZQW0dj_zxfRza-ZgRqHdHtCPxG2LVT-gPSxmN5GO3ptbR0LiBYIAB9OgMfVIhD/s1600/DSC01126.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjund1Jsbq0GcjBtiooY-_PienXWvYck0USSXzH7285XUXeILUhC14VN1OQqRK5TfNzctDMEWR4oJOAxoZQW0dj_zxfRza-ZgRqHdHtCPxG2LVT-gPSxmN5GO3ptbR0LiBYIAB9OgMfVIhD/s400/DSC01126.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593211437811400562" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtSxhbCrgNZ4_0CYRUPQn9RInHwbJTrLEQjeQmQnU7c_Qke99eLZ0dxqy-YwNJnOShOn-4C8IV4O3D83j2Sir3LJ_yYTVg-J87_elIHsn9BOjX6bup9u8A_5kuGn_eI8B4VKqlr81P3g6/s1600/DSC01128.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtSxhbCrgNZ4_0CYRUPQn9RInHwbJTrLEQjeQmQnU7c_Qke99eLZ0dxqy-YwNJnOShOn-4C8IV4O3D83j2Sir3LJ_yYTVg-J87_elIHsn9BOjX6bup9u8A_5kuGn_eI8B4VKqlr81P3g6/s400/DSC01128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593211434529230498" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUoi6NR32tig5U6V0LfOOlEfSdRB5gAzm0o8llsdjfjz6_Pb3f_eYGwdRjJI7Oa9AflwJwNj2kKb7DKk4No802Yb1VQM4a_guZ3x7NEScI3WKlg5qSkl-010b8LV7tAFpDzHvqabahDrt/s1600/DSC01133.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUoi6NR32tig5U6V0LfOOlEfSdRB5gAzm0o8llsdjfjz6_Pb3f_eYGwdRjJI7Oa9AflwJwNj2kKb7DKk4No802Yb1VQM4a_guZ3x7NEScI3WKlg5qSkl-010b8LV7tAFpDzHvqabahDrt/s400/DSC01133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593211428377390162" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A few weekends ago Giuseppe hosted at his apartment 2 german girls visiting Florence, from the website couchsurfing.org, an ingenius way to travel and have authentic local experiences. They were very nice and we had fun cooking dinners together, eating gelato, seeing the view of Florence from Fiesole, one night watching a concert of the beatles and oasis cover bands, and doing some salsa dancing the next night. We also enjoyed learning the meanings of all the italian hand gestures from Giuseppe, there's so many!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wE82pNFN80ihX6p-5itE_ErB3MAGeO39_Oiupmwq9NiGWLWtP0tDpkV6Tt1Io35gjqgiF2XVUMXkCeC-fNHGhosnckZZY0hDuGn_muJBcVv68WAtQpaKwlZSXh3vE_cOAgpa6vn22y6g/s1600/DSC01137.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7v6R39Yk-rB7QT9k_36XuORrw2_qTzPJKu5UU-OQA8UcDvYtPMQ2KrptYh8TGoSde6oqvRlKBupJQj-Zl_fSOdoroGLQSkTXaVakGPbv7nJGeIghiFEnLP_j48F3URe8rusd6j2GFpeoN/s1600/DSC01102.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7v6R39Yk-rB7QT9k_36XuORrw2_qTzPJKu5UU-OQA8UcDvYtPMQ2KrptYh8TGoSde6oqvRlKBupJQj-Zl_fSOdoroGLQSkTXaVakGPbv7nJGeIghiFEnLP_j48F3URe8rusd6j2GFpeoN/s400/DSC01102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593211416052469138" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Byd9OdDqJyFkg7UajrczF6Mu_cyPaRcBZqMC09s4RrO66FBjnC9ZVrcEJW2yE7dZzCpqjwplKATp_euFVjKcRLutN3LDC897KnlpDERBxqBhKi_1AAlYL904QspZUPPsJIrU-BnO0FDL/s1600/DSC01105.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Byd9OdDqJyFkg7UajrczF6Mu_cyPaRcBZqMC09s4RrO66FBjnC9ZVrcEJW2yE7dZzCpqjwplKATp_euFVjKcRLutN3LDC897KnlpDERBxqBhKi_1AAlYL904QspZUPPsJIrU-BnO0FDL/s400/DSC01105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593218481183386082" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9GN8-g1BVYQf2KN7w-INeq1NL0Nf1HkZJlL1Jhf8gn2B7zgj2PjTM-cOtlWbjpLivtwh6o94fQ1-p3DdXMIp_T20sNA4bOFjqnmPbNB-5FnPCdvdiVMHWFB3z3sd2wiHsLxGUnMT4O5u/s1600/DSC01101.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh9GN8-g1BVYQf2KN7w-INeq1NL0Nf1HkZJlL1Jhf8gn2B7zgj2PjTM-cOtlWbjpLivtwh6o94fQ1-p3DdXMIp_T20sNA4bOFjqnmPbNB-5FnPCdvdiVMHWFB3z3sd2wiHsLxGUnMT4O5u/s400/DSC01101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593218474615253922" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XaejVmQ-uhwM-V6LAyh27BuQ6Gtm9kqu-Reg3Bu8ziEaBk_KNf48UZjRp9CjX672ic30kkD3MB8yDw9i3GHnuq0Tl4qc7vmebFsCAQfit_gTROvAWMMUwnLTP5YCPuj6_NiwlvFg2457/s1600/DSC01095.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XaejVmQ-uhwM-V6LAyh27BuQ6Gtm9kqu-Reg3Bu8ziEaBk_KNf48UZjRp9CjX672ic30kkD3MB8yDw9i3GHnuq0Tl4qc7vmebFsCAQfit_gTROvAWMMUwnLTP5YCPuj6_NiwlvFg2457/s400/DSC01095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593217290631033522" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The following weekend Giuseppe and I went to a concert featuring the traditional italian music of 'taranta'. Naturally coinciding with this traditional music is the traditional dance, of which we did for hours without a break. The dance consists mostly of hopping up and down, so we were super exhausted by the end. As I (naturally;) picked up the style of dance quickly, Giuseppe commented that I looked like I've been dancing the taranta ever since I was a little girl growing up in a village in the south of italy:)<br /><br />Last week was the Bologna Children's Book Fair, the largest children's book publishing fair in the world, and I ventured there (an hour train ride from Florence) on wednesday with Brunella, the italian illustrator woman who I met a few months ago, as well her italian illustrator collegue, Daniele, and her american english teacher, Hannah. The fair however, is not for children but just for the people involved in the industry. In response to the advise of Brunella, I'd created a book idea and brought it along, but as this idea came into existence only a week before, I failed to follow up on the second peice of advice which was to email appropriate book publishers to arrange a meeting at the fair. However, with the moral support of Hannah, I managed to talk to two different important people without having setup an appointment, and received some worthy feedback. Some positive and some cut-throat, both of which I can follow up with in the future.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcr-agOCvtBbEeF8dRE_YAV6Dx8uI8qVtXPpEmcxu34iEwTd3VvzTQDbiLG_ngSq1zNAyfSsyJWYfODVFYRvU5ZzdL6mIgNrb_JY0HoZdXP5wJkcaSTDE0OGL64FtyRPMQYz120mbxDD7v/s1600/DSC01250.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEH2Ss6iO_U4u_MDfLmf9wm9rq8CddN0eli7K6nd-YZ-BO7ixNUTVsYByzc6R3WmKw42AInQgQ_LwZTMUbcWX4k_rH7AvPuld5NdO4JjJkf4oGwmdY2-_Hvmug4qrDvVARTZQ7XV5PBD6i/s1600/DSC01183.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEH2Ss6iO_U4u_MDfLmf9wm9rq8CddN0eli7K6nd-YZ-BO7ixNUTVsYByzc6R3WmKw42AInQgQ_LwZTMUbcWX4k_rH7AvPuld5NdO4JjJkf4oGwmdY2-_Hvmug4qrDvVARTZQ7XV5PBD6i/s400/DSC01183.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593218486954820802" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEy6oMTMFK-S1xdCaEnpqFQ_vEymyloNlKZHXCWJ7BahXDp1W1qcNQzuqyJFX1CTh91GBGORvnUwy31YtoRCceHavrtS_T0LMV42TkcyW9Z8cMjrkGpwkXYG_CcdLEqArmitjjRlUTJLLv/s1600/DSC01233.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHbxUE6-7M8oMIWHf12EVuY4dtUIMrqDEobIjxRrMvkHwA2rwLW_dk1jX959wrr_s57s7LhklA_L21Ctf0FIU130BoaahPCcLanYakaEdfh9AsCXWMsMaY9RuSXWEfdyFu2txUTnMaVoD/s1600/DSC01187.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHbxUE6-7M8oMIWHf12EVuY4dtUIMrqDEobIjxRrMvkHwA2rwLW_dk1jX959wrr_s57s7LhklA_L21Ctf0FIU130BoaahPCcLanYakaEdfh9AsCXWMsMaY9RuSXWEfdyFu2txUTnMaVoD/s400/DSC01187.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593218496190918690" border="0" /></a><br />As well I collected tons of other email addresses and general contact information for submitting to publishers, as well as dished out many business cards of my own. My book idea is called 'Birdie and Dirt', about a little girl who likes playing outside in the dirt and being dirty. It recieved some laughs from the people who read it so I'm encouraged of it's potential. I made sure to pass by the 'canadese' section and chatted with the friendly canadians who were interested to hear my background, that I was also canadian but living in italy.<br /><br />While making my way through the aisles, I was totally in awe when I rounded the corner of the Macmillian publisher's booth and saw the poster for the new graphic novel by my college roomate, Vera Brosgol! I quickly returned to the booth to scope out the pages which are absolutely gorgeous. Funny how I encountered her book all the way across the world and I didn't even know it was out yet!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEy6oMTMFK-S1xdCaEnpqFQ_vEymyloNlKZHXCWJ7BahXDp1W1qcNQzuqyJFX1CTh91GBGORvnUwy31YtoRCceHavrtS_T0LMV42TkcyW9Z8cMjrkGpwkXYG_CcdLEqArmitjjRlUTJLLv/s1600/DSC01233.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEy6oMTMFK-S1xdCaEnpqFQ_vEymyloNlKZHXCWJ7BahXDp1W1qcNQzuqyJFX1CTh91GBGORvnUwy31YtoRCceHavrtS_T0LMV42TkcyW9Z8cMjrkGpwkXYG_CcdLEqArmitjjRlUTJLLv/s400/DSC01233.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593218499568841874" border="0" /></a><br /><br />On wednesday afternoon this week, I crashed a workshop that Martinho was hosting, for an art teacher from the US, Glen Vilppu. I've know about this man for a long time and had seen lots of his material while in college, as he used to work at Disney and as such has a lot of his teaching geared towards animation. I was suprised when I found out Martinho knew him personally and are in fact friends! I spent the lunch break with the group and then was invited to pose for a portrait so Glen could do a demo for the group. In compensation I was given the drawing to keep, for which Glen told me he normally charges 1200$. I told him that it was perfect because that's exactly how much I usually charge for modeling:)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyfwxTFfcfde92rdKRTGXygXYIeZnznlHWL0k04DoCzy3Qa87j4fXX2UNGo9_Oh6D7LXAibOsDchRhkB_iV5obsXiH5Dln_SL4lCi0WH8hVOC1hnanPhhJLbxRQhPobw-Yu7TKZxO3VBf3/s1600/DSC01245.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyfwxTFfcfde92rdKRTGXygXYIeZnznlHWL0k04DoCzy3Qa87j4fXX2UNGo9_Oh6D7LXAibOsDchRhkB_iV5obsXiH5Dln_SL4lCi0WH8hVOC1hnanPhhJLbxRQhPobw-Yu7TKZxO3VBf3/s400/DSC01245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593220346397151426" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcr-agOCvtBbEeF8dRE_YAV6Dx8uI8qVtXPpEmcxu34iEwTd3VvzTQDbiLG_ngSq1zNAyfSsyJWYfODVFYRvU5ZzdL6mIgNrb_JY0HoZdXP5wJkcaSTDE0OGL64FtyRPMQYz120mbxDD7v/s1600/DSC01250.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcr-agOCvtBbEeF8dRE_YAV6Dx8uI8qVtXPpEmcxu34iEwTd3VvzTQDbiLG_ngSq1zNAyfSsyJWYfODVFYRvU5ZzdL6mIgNrb_JY0HoZdXP5wJkcaSTDE0OGL64FtyRPMQYz120mbxDD7v/s400/DSC01250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593220334359095026" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBMl9bbAYdvyGR_Xn00QtyQN0A2SxMK3xnYFzvwj7dQPP2g-suU3Z04bVTxPIcKZJ32_t4f4ZP1IPdhjBSsGsSsgsHXJr4BgfDzqBWKrhXFgxaWApruR6l3bRK1eohZUbpffEyaj8oqMuN/s1600/DSC01252.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBMl9bbAYdvyGR_Xn00QtyQN0A2SxMK3xnYFzvwj7dQPP2g-suU3Z04bVTxPIcKZJ32_t4f4ZP1IPdhjBSsGsSsgsHXJr4BgfDzqBWKrhXFgxaWApruR6l3bRK1eohZUbpffEyaj8oqMuN/s400/DSC01252.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593220339802161586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Unfortunately on the bus this morning, I got a multa (ticket) because I forgot to validate my bus ticket and got caught. I've never actually been checked before and as such am sometimes careless to stamp the ticket, but now I've learned my lesson, 55 Euro, ouch. I tried to plead innocent with the officer but to no avail. However on the bright side, according to Giuseppe, I've added another aspect to having a full italian experience. He got 2 tickets last month, for parking and speeding.jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-62553669564281610892011-03-07T11:35:00.000-08:002011-03-07T15:12:46.799-08:00Marzo?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVfD1xdagidD4AlMVc8rgUsq-9UJqRRnjwrlCIR64SkT8WFy-37Zj1fz9lF4j-e7V4j5HGTu3qwIL2fdZymdd6ZKBk0KC3CXRU_-hTeMS5VhF6oF78mFNoBiFpeagThNyS2EWcOctteBgO/s1600/DSC01044.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVfD1xdagidD4AlMVc8rgUsq-9UJqRRnjwrlCIR64SkT8WFy-37Zj1fz9lF4j-e7V4j5HGTu3qwIL2fdZymdd6ZKBk0KC3CXRU_-hTeMS5VhF6oF78mFNoBiFpeagThNyS2EWcOctteBgO/s400/DSC01044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581470526894209426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXvOLitVfzdPmHYz2KjHjktmBLhvEdf1N3gyvaPfmCr9tbG9BeY7zR46Rq4tttHFf9xjcgkUIF0ILSevUSEcpsYgyug-gPTNh_Rpnw20egp09rgHZVYukzGNCDDPEMARjQ6upxQUiwTCr/s1600/DSC00862.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1Rt8YfEBfUVWy4ZPtdYspmIbkAPWLNfcWHCeWsW7OkZvToE_Je9Vwoq4jP_YtaoBbMvsYIfh-0qH4NlyyFku-9Y0SfPBRu3VROI5NBQKxr-4oRTaJKFjIRZ_3ic-hbrSAc7NSWE4c7kf/s1600/DSC00848.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv1Rt8YfEBfUVWy4ZPtdYspmIbkAPWLNfcWHCeWsW7OkZvToE_Je9Vwoq4jP_YtaoBbMvsYIfh-0qH4NlyyFku-9Y0SfPBRu3VROI5NBQKxr-4oRTaJKFjIRZ_3ic-hbrSAc7NSWE4c7kf/s400/DSC00848.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581459539595579474" border="0" /></a><br />What, it's March (marzo) already??? Time for an update.<br /><br />Early February, Rosie and I had a date at the theatre, Teatro Verde, to watch a live a dance show 'Divino Tango'. The tickets were Rosie's christmas present from me and we both really enjoyed it. There was about 6 couples and many various tango numbers, including one with a soccer theme, very original! Oddly, there was no intermission, the dancers danced for over 2 hours straight!! I found this strange considering at the cinema in italy there's always an intervallo (intermission), why not at the theatre?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDR2pMCqvf8sxqTSqWrNsSN44FCYL2e3NV527kAsZMzQXBhFmc-sDlxGm7YiUV7eR_UwYCBZLz9pPPGKdzm185nxOztzEe059l1HUHxHKUQ2g8txpw_VwlIJxaHhmOLsMSlxA2oLpQjIr/s1600/DSC00737.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwJ_JkKiSCFyRYVrHShWIeJEFCNofuLV107PITzqX8GLL_g-nnjWCOCMNzoiwngY5fYT19HBdNihv7hKP9HjqORdOsTO4p_9Jzl9UoWXIxX-7GLqSfOK-tWHjgAbv1Ikh9rDi7x0TH0gR/s1600/DSC00682.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwJ_JkKiSCFyRYVrHShWIeJEFCNofuLV107PITzqX8GLL_g-nnjWCOCMNzoiwngY5fYT19HBdNihv7hKP9HjqORdOsTO4p_9Jzl9UoWXIxX-7GLqSfOK-tWHjgAbv1Ikh9rDi7x0TH0gR/s400/DSC00682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581444130248660946" border="0" /></a><br />My mom and auntie Jo arrived in Florence the evening of Feb 4, although I was expecting them to arrive in the afternoon...I waited patiently at the gate at their scheduled arrival time (actually I was a bit late due to some bus confusion) but an hour later I knew something was up. I received a call shortly after from my mom in frankfurt airport, reporting that they'd missed their connecting flight due to a delay leaving Calgary. As I had left for the airport directly from school, with a stop at the grocery store inbetween, I had my books with me as well as food, and as it was a beautiful day, the first resembling spring, I scoped out a patch of grass in front of the airport and killed a few hours studying and eating before our happy reunion in the gate.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHnCuf1VSFC6FPMAZN4oKZH4CoV7Hb5OOFxE66fa9q8slbp6sk4ySkKuklSBlpwFB0iCQPYs_jSSP1rcTRCb1uPdZJy9eNhduYokB50oQb7M0UMUYOcwnIzlMQyJYWoWDQaCW37G9MzLpq/s1600/DSC00707.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHnCuf1VSFC6FPMAZN4oKZH4CoV7Hb5OOFxE66fa9q8slbp6sk4ySkKuklSBlpwFB0iCQPYs_jSSP1rcTRCb1uPdZJy9eNhduYokB50oQb7M0UMUYOcwnIzlMQyJYWoWDQaCW37G9MzLpq/s400/DSC00707.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581444134207512370" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76xwxS7h3aQAW7yKks_ib5AYff1AIH-y2h8aPDlyIo66e8DJSaWwuHwo2EszvnOIzMQvf6Vaob8Tdfbc1m7g4y_Nc4KTW0NldshInAqdQ8_p8x-WcZo6Ev3k8SmMYFfgmhNnZNyNRBb28/s1600/DSC00713.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76xwxS7h3aQAW7yKks_ib5AYff1AIH-y2h8aPDlyIo66e8DJSaWwuHwo2EszvnOIzMQvf6Vaob8Tdfbc1m7g4y_Nc4KTW0NldshInAqdQ8_p8x-WcZo6Ev3k8SmMYFfgmhNnZNyNRBb28/s400/DSC00713.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581453048353059698" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTQfCVvS0_r6Uy35xV9by3bCmAGG4gagjmpKBrwYFB13TUEFdC4pwTOkWRsF9EwRhnCJfJDd3Lnn9Qem-qIotAzKl4AqpCT0FZ9jOna7T4CplFmAE4dbHsJeAHx42K_M4mHqmHOWFrD1e/s1600/DSC00775.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTQfCVvS0_r6Uy35xV9by3bCmAGG4gagjmpKBrwYFB13TUEFdC4pwTOkWRsF9EwRhnCJfJDd3Lnn9Qem-qIotAzKl4AqpCT0FZ9jOna7T4CplFmAE4dbHsJeAHx42K_M4mHqmHOWFrD1e/s400/DSC00775.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581454942260484450" border="0" /></a>They stayed at a lovely hotel two minutes from my apartment so it was really convenient. The first day we toured around Florence and saw the main piazzas and landmarks followed by a buonissima (delicious) dinner at a nice restaurant in the center with our cousin, Martinho. This was the first time my mom and aunt had met him although it didn't feel that way as they all seemed to remind each other of different relatives along the chain of relation (Martinho and my mom/aunt share the same cousin). The following day, Giuseppe, my salsa dancing language exchange partner, offered to take us on a tour to a nearby Tuscan town, San Gimignano! It was another nice day and we enjoyed walking around discovering this ancient town which seemed to be stuck back in time.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6r_IOZSYUXkns1JtbJbM0cNb9EUdVc0c-FfTywN04YaXfrfiUv6Z9L10t9WJpG63j5e7i_7INKeDUlcVfYHQLIv5Zu0sg5eE61T2TWB5RvNOfFTApv0-iRJV3IP4_zFOd2ACUrdNbdjM4/s1600/DSC00721.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6r_IOZSYUXkns1JtbJbM0cNb9EUdVc0c-FfTywN04YaXfrfiUv6Z9L10t9WJpG63j5e7i_7INKeDUlcVfYHQLIv5Zu0sg5eE61T2TWB5RvNOfFTApv0-iRJV3IP4_zFOd2ACUrdNbdjM4/s400/DSC00721.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581444139784958626" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrEiI8gs-BIt7BeVusYJhvIu6adB-2xBLjwcTzXVHSnPd8Y17S-ZhrqhNwHQOlkRpCl10lPL9WjPb2u3gNZVLCqciuNf_Dc98qKQhzZqeXT72cetdcPQXt4MUijTBYdjH9_nkeDcgMt4-/s1600/Italy+076.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrEiI8gs-BIt7BeVusYJhvIu6adB-2xBLjwcTzXVHSnPd8Y17S-ZhrqhNwHQOlkRpCl10lPL9WjPb2u3gNZVLCqciuNf_Dc98qKQhzZqeXT72cetdcPQXt4MUijTBYdjH9_nkeDcgMt4-/s400/Italy+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581462402878829666" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDR2pMCqvf8sxqTSqWrNsSN44FCYL2e3NV527kAsZMzQXBhFmc-sDlxGm7YiUV7eR_UwYCBZLz9pPPGKdzm185nxOztzEe059l1HUHxHKUQ2g8txpw_VwlIJxaHhmOLsMSlxA2oLpQjIr/s1600/DSC00737.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIduXmKjdjW2f-sn7f3lkLfwag3eD4PEsil79_5yK64fSoO1L1vQxEU6FIBoJl0oxGXUOuaQmBNVJt5yqE4z0nEsjIyb3KpquHnkDT4NXHQOgijz5ybWIkW8-gj66ijGokF7zUq6eyAqZU/s1600/DSC00735.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIduXmKjdjW2f-sn7f3lkLfwag3eD4PEsil79_5yK64fSoO1L1vQxEU6FIBoJl0oxGXUOuaQmBNVJt5yqE4z0nEsjIyb3KpquHnkDT4NXHQOgijz5ybWIkW8-gj66ijGokF7zUq6eyAqZU/s400/DSC00735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581448086847990130" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBPj3YmSkrUeOSf7zNiYuc2nN6R1JCgOZ9zSJILhPKjE1t8MSkDTv3ou84shbxsqR3wM81DveWmH3cQgdAgATbPxzfGtRDbro9GrPyclNdyN_uxfE_RpLjGJa5pLyfTNSESc3PGikWk1iE/s1600/DSC00759.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBPj3YmSkrUeOSf7zNiYuc2nN6R1JCgOZ9zSJILhPKjE1t8MSkDTv3ou84shbxsqR3wM81DveWmH3cQgdAgATbPxzfGtRDbro9GrPyclNdyN_uxfE_RpLjGJa5pLyfTNSESc3PGikWk1iE/s400/DSC00759.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581453060646475218" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJXf19hDPhIfztDySfw81AfO-XoruNGMO5xv5hdNfeSC-SJn1NtIBnfTaPBJn-I42aM70Qkpqoje48Cc6bsrUwT23mfZOo5lyfaXOSHCIuvHgjPjq2yzd0JkikhOl9v8iKvvKjHdD0eK9/s1600/DSC00760.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJXf19hDPhIfztDySfw81AfO-XoruNGMO5xv5hdNfeSC-SJn1NtIBnfTaPBJn-I42aM70Qkpqoje48Cc6bsrUwT23mfZOo5lyfaXOSHCIuvHgjPjq2yzd0JkikhOl9v8iKvvKjHdD0eK9/s400/DSC00760.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581466444811283794" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYF-J7_LvgCzOy7XD8tlETGla30TVNbqIy_9k4tl8zxFwHtzSsyyZj7CyUPCkEohB9903-v6ZQLgjul1MfcKi7n4zdRgWSGcGa4o_ABQ6FdazOW24Qqq3_NZESF9M5eSXb5LFqAfJ1hyx/s1600/DSC00766.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDR2pMCqvf8sxqTSqWrNsSN44FCYL2e3NV527kAsZMzQXBhFmc-sDlxGm7YiUV7eR_UwYCBZLz9pPPGKdzm185nxOztzEe059l1HUHxHKUQ2g8txpw_VwlIJxaHhmOLsMSlxA2oLpQjIr/s1600/DSC00737.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDR2pMCqvf8sxqTSqWrNsSN44FCYL2e3NV527kAsZMzQXBhFmc-sDlxGm7YiUV7eR_UwYCBZLz9pPPGKdzm185nxOztzEe059l1HUHxHKUQ2g8txpw_VwlIJxaHhmOLsMSlxA2oLpQjIr/s400/DSC00737.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581448091682554066" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoIhp8a2n4727icYwoSeGHivuCvypYlCJ9TMYwVQli9GFaDnrcYKmX9Z-oSglLuaYfbKBHcEW4i1jE2VnIoDkAU8OxzOP_SmvPZB2bCN8uW6bLfCEHV3_yu897nWGoI7JnZzpnz3Rp9ED1/s1600/DSC00740.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoIhp8a2n4727icYwoSeGHivuCvypYlCJ9TMYwVQli9GFaDnrcYKmX9Z-oSglLuaYfbKBHcEW4i1jE2VnIoDkAU8OxzOP_SmvPZB2bCN8uW6bLfCEHV3_yu897nWGoI7JnZzpnz3Rp9ED1/s400/DSC00740.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581453055672821042" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8aJggrw4RYrxXzu3uiZbjoqyU4uc9cUSdslQTObGY1FRkP_9kf_Axaj4ZnkULU3rE8FbOPLqKV74F7XXlasForIUEZR0eMlhokpxiCa-ZqCtl9noZJMJH67Y89z2QtWr2iRV1Wtt7rWa/s1600/DSC00724.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8aJggrw4RYrxXzu3uiZbjoqyU4uc9cUSdslQTObGY1FRkP_9kf_Axaj4ZnkULU3rE8FbOPLqKV74F7XXlasForIUEZR0eMlhokpxiCa-ZqCtl9noZJMJH67Y89z2QtWr2iRV1Wtt7rWa/s400/DSC00724.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581453050770466722" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYF-J7_LvgCzOy7XD8tlETGla30TVNbqIy_9k4tl8zxFwHtzSsyyZj7CyUPCkEohB9903-v6ZQLgjul1MfcKi7n4zdRgWSGcGa4o_ABQ6FdazOW24Qqq3_NZESF9M5eSXb5LFqAfJ1hyx/s1600/DSC00766.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYF-J7_LvgCzOy7XD8tlETGla30TVNbqIy_9k4tl8zxFwHtzSsyyZj7CyUPCkEohB9903-v6ZQLgjul1MfcKi7n4zdRgWSGcGa4o_ABQ6FdazOW24Qqq3_NZESF9M5eSXb5LFqAfJ1hyx/s400/DSC00766.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581453059345179314" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUX9auadt5ZjMqsC_NHsu3bVXl6C11KcCX-gGPAZ7wreS-F1jAgYvfnsLY7XCjlJs8mDD9zEFx3hHXJ2vl0Y6kFXUN9rXN0nICY2oOftJEACbop8Sbp0Pxwf6FExRKQUuEWjY2PBFCVdxD/s1600/DSC00763.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUX9auadt5ZjMqsC_NHsu3bVXl6C11KcCX-gGPAZ7wreS-F1jAgYvfnsLY7XCjlJs8mDD9zEFx3hHXJ2vl0Y6kFXUN9rXN0nICY2oOftJEACbop8Sbp0Pxwf6FExRKQUuEWjY2PBFCVdxD/s400/DSC00763.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581454936658169682" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO0atT8bCieEuxhUmfr3o577YbyZaIVFHxgCmKM_rZ_B120Wp9_m1OoC8PU10xWgGPA5hrq8lybSHpPsItt8KVA2O653SH7zkUMMj0P1BWdzeQqgYq96nELJ3RT7w5StF7pFGUNVxP1XkV/s1600/DSC00728.JPG"><br /></a>The following week was my last day of Level 5 italian (of which I passed with 87% ;) and then we were off to Venice! It was my third time in Venice but not any less magical. It really is such a special place. Together we hopped on and off the vaporetto (the water bus, as there is no cars in venice) and scouted out the beautiful churches and landmarks scattered throughout the city. I spent one afternoon solo at Ca' Pesaro, the gallery of modern art, where I relived some memories from 6 years ago, sketching statues and examining paintings, especially Klimt's beautiful Judith II. Despite some challenges in finding food for myself (where are the supermarkets in Venice???), and one of the days being frighteningly cold, we enjoyed ourselves immensely amid the beauty of the city.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HbClujPMYGLspS5MKlf0y2g7en7UV7yanM2442DU__MYcKnAEeuOM92pHxalZwT9v-tH-egoP5XreY2AoK6EBHb8t3nG2rkHwXJgEmsexLeWb-S8LyKZ6tg_EYoRuBVUyqiWRToUdfcH/s1600/DSC00807.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HbClujPMYGLspS5MKlf0y2g7en7UV7yanM2442DU__MYcKnAEeuOM92pHxalZwT9v-tH-egoP5XreY2AoK6EBHb8t3nG2rkHwXJgEmsexLeWb-S8LyKZ6tg_EYoRuBVUyqiWRToUdfcH/s400/DSC00807.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581454948827265394" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXvOLitVfzdPmHYz2KjHjktmBLhvEdf1N3gyvaPfmCr9tbG9BeY7zR46Rq4tttHFf9xjcgkUIF0ILSevUSEcpsYgyug-gPTNh_Rpnw20egp09rgHZVYukzGNCDDPEMARjQ6upxQUiwTCr/s1600/DSC00862.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 105px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMXvOLitVfzdPmHYz2KjHjktmBLhvEdf1N3gyvaPfmCr9tbG9BeY7zR46Rq4tttHFf9xjcgkUIF0ILSevUSEcpsYgyug-gPTNh_Rpnw20egp09rgHZVYukzGNCDDPEMARjQ6upxQUiwTCr/s400/DSC00862.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581459546095539602" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI2gia13IZqlSP19Vzbo4J3r2hbKDvIJb9ndH-dM8nhEYttj9DUK2Zro7zFOcQtDHagWXFg3ClXNs-Olo45Vz7UKAOvIIpFKOGRkLTNrGzr_iGc60w4cH4ZTRdIrz8B1R65oQ7l5KtBj5i/s1600/DSC00838.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 105px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI2gia13IZqlSP19Vzbo4J3r2hbKDvIJb9ndH-dM8nhEYttj9DUK2Zro7zFOcQtDHagWXFg3ClXNs-Olo45Vz7UKAOvIIpFKOGRkLTNrGzr_iGc60w4cH4ZTRdIrz8B1R65oQ7l5KtBj5i/s400/DSC00838.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581457990443662834" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBqbvItAWKR8mU97Ebq1-3S38wK52jCiWN2rpLu8fecMNs9LIKIxoW2seKag3mTLiyPk0cJK3VALlDmpGXxjaJICPpWH_iK5D7Gf808v7kMUp8_E5rDJP-PRkLbzqhIu_8c10sNuC41P9/s1600/DSC00831.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBqbvItAWKR8mU97Ebq1-3S38wK52jCiWN2rpLu8fecMNs9LIKIxoW2seKag3mTLiyPk0cJK3VALlDmpGXxjaJICPpWH_iK5D7Gf808v7kMUp8_E5rDJP-PRkLbzqhIu_8c10sNuC41P9/s400/DSC00831.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581457984940255282" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSwt8Tr9G8fXeScZTH5ID_4QJYAPZ9FjjisvOMS0rTLQumWfh-dkMIUY_2Lcrei_6UR0riTQdq14113WdpDOL_2OK0fy311qTz7EUGPU2jQZq0FYUW_bIjW4R0AxrmwIXAS3CopSmFNlE/s1600/DSC00829.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaSwt8Tr9G8fXeScZTH5ID_4QJYAPZ9FjjisvOMS0rTLQumWfh-dkMIUY_2Lcrei_6UR0riTQdq14113WdpDOL_2OK0fy311qTz7EUGPU2jQZq0FYUW_bIjW4R0AxrmwIXAS3CopSmFNlE/s400/DSC00829.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581457982775809410" border="0" /></a> It's impossible to take a bad picture in Venice!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZOnYrZAD5qXyybzZuFAab6Z8l7MQxYWT_qpR5cJ25l7UE_-B4LJemMwGU67XU2qxQsNnDeDFmO-EmP49nPxsxbK-5nayCPo2yJTQN0yusfuHsJIOClGhLr0ZZGwoU8TsXjBGT_4_r6i7/s1600/DSC00813.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZOnYrZAD5qXyybzZuFAab6Z8l7MQxYWT_qpR5cJ25l7UE_-B4LJemMwGU67XU2qxQsNnDeDFmO-EmP49nPxsxbK-5nayCPo2yJTQN0yusfuHsJIOClGhLr0ZZGwoU8TsXjBGT_4_r6i7/s400/DSC00813.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581457982571037266" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDo6TYrNDub5GJQuR4gamtNts8CCbAuz0jltSd_rgE4OyeXGnrXxHidDsIKVMOIfqplw8c0vIVO-nQCc7anFP2QodjjQO0GDcm8n-t1u6yYMhEEdqSt9FydMUm_M0FmJP9r0Ne-Ez5fNWn/s1600/DSC00809.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDo6TYrNDub5GJQuR4gamtNts8CCbAuz0jltSd_rgE4OyeXGnrXxHidDsIKVMOIfqplw8c0vIVO-nQCc7anFP2QodjjQO0GDcm8n-t1u6yYMhEEdqSt9FydMUm_M0FmJP9r0Ne-Ez5fNWn/s400/DSC00809.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581457979449094930" border="0" /></a><br />After only one day back in Florence we we were off to Rome! Upon our arrival at our bed and breakfast nearby the beautiful Campo dei Fiori market square, we found ourselves instead sitting in a nearby park with all our luggage, wondering if we needed to figure out an alternate plan. This wasn't so bad at it was a gorgeous day of 18 degrees but what we hadn't realized was that we'd arrived before check-in time, and as the bed and breakfast only had a few rooms, there wasn't someone working 24/7 like in the hotels.<br /><br />So we sat in the park and I called the different phone numbers until finally getting a hold of someone and arranging our check in. Shortly after, we dropped off our bags in our charming room overlooking the street and all was well. Soon after we were soaking in the sun in Campo dei Fiori while mom and auntie Jo enjoyed their beautiful pizza from the bakery and I examined the map which I bought from the newsstand.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM40J41X0yyCLDsIm4x6kyRW6fwEcIHNBBpz5aKFChICCddnDIVncwK4NXEdFNsLjst74K8B2XTxRbicjMC192mGqdggv2m9R4awbBc8jiGK8whwkJk_yOlw7hyphenhyphenU3Cz713rmXDgWWCWvUk/s1600/DSC00872.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM40J41X0yyCLDsIm4x6kyRW6fwEcIHNBBpz5aKFChICCddnDIVncwK4NXEdFNsLjst74K8B2XTxRbicjMC192mGqdggv2m9R4awbBc8jiGK8whwkJk_yOlw7hyphenhyphenU3Cz713rmXDgWWCWvUk/s400/DSC00872.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581459557065487282" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNQaqCX9fre7MPmYfCzmejHIwnRsBzGTKjFC2r9HsBqrQxXDE9yynzFqIgz758PKo15v3deb_IT0g4EzrSkORLGEQF56YpP9piDFpA2TLGZElnEMmjZEKzq_KOu0uHR1cBhlhWR_HJPN2/s1600/DSC00874.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNQaqCX9fre7MPmYfCzmejHIwnRsBzGTKjFC2r9HsBqrQxXDE9yynzFqIgz758PKo15v3deb_IT0g4EzrSkORLGEQF56YpP9piDFpA2TLGZElnEMmjZEKzq_KOu0uHR1cBhlhWR_HJPN2/s400/DSC00874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581459550417090626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We then started the trek to the coliseum, stopping at monuments along the way, and then found ourselves lined up with a tour group in front of this ancient structure. Our ticket with the tour group also included a tour of the Roman Forum (the ruins) which we were told could be used another day if we chose, as it was late afternoon and there was only one more tour going out that day. (Despite our effort to take this tour the next day, this never actually happened, due to some misunderstanding and some faulty information. This particular tour group apparently doesn't work everyday as they'd said...I'm thinking they only work the days with optimal weather).<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYCdja-676UEW0XABYDEw-QF82hPC4Vsxr6uXGY_vFhCzCrSBY42AVKvo3L2ENMHVoMKmAbFKKh-3uw7YWNBFCs43tgxopKq11NL3CBP76-iBZAvfK4kouTZwtlxgi9hPH_UlCmdCCi5J/s1600/DSC00913.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYCdja-676UEW0XABYDEw-QF82hPC4Vsxr6uXGY_vFhCzCrSBY42AVKvo3L2ENMHVoMKmAbFKKh-3uw7YWNBFCs43tgxopKq11NL3CBP76-iBZAvfK4kouTZwtlxgi9hPH_UlCmdCCi5J/s400/DSC00913.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581461027941507122" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimGZ0jyZCh9FMVEnrgiZ6-Wfz77h2EC3kHeEz3Q9-q93xxxUHA8ud0TSEmPC6boelr_jgdBiOPgMczKPJTjg88lLipq-473yZLWAwuZvznVM0DmfxnBC5awOXJpB4PowgGp8U-r0iMh7eD/s1600/DSC00888.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 105px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimGZ0jyZCh9FMVEnrgiZ6-Wfz77h2EC3kHeEz3Q9-q93xxxUHA8ud0TSEmPC6boelr_jgdBiOPgMczKPJTjg88lLipq-473yZLWAwuZvznVM0DmfxnBC5awOXJpB4PowgGp8U-r0iMh7eD/s400/DSC00888.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581461020386702642" border="0" /></a><br />However, for the tour of the coliseum, we enjoyed learning (but forgetting shortly after...) the history and facts of the coliseum, but were confused when our tour ended prematurely? Actually it didn't end, we just thought it did, and discovered otherwise when mom and I were wondering around inside and encountered our same tour group again! At that point we were a little behind on the facts so we decided to stay on our own.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjFLgnQl1zMBhNNPsBzchKOl44KvlDYFA5nKjZuibnH_R9wvl62PU8n0M94eNvKdnjiTtUcMckTt0Or72R7k3U0mFSmCNoI0rB9r4_mNNx8DPJq98nlXvgDdT-WLv-J5CNXa0qXIja7Yf/s1600/DSC00882.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjFLgnQl1zMBhNNPsBzchKOl44KvlDYFA5nKjZuibnH_R9wvl62PU8n0M94eNvKdnjiTtUcMckTt0Or72R7k3U0mFSmCNoI0rB9r4_mNNx8DPJq98nlXvgDdT-WLv-J5CNXa0qXIja7Yf/s400/DSC00882.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581461012657809842" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFJuKtqJ73DuWqpC9pO69FGBgRiZ0a3wIBgyevELDhFfoX2RUmGf98CQnrnv1IFYb3WE8HJ_8Ux_F32_v1C6zzX56z0qM-ZyWF7YRtmYy2z-TYB96p9fa9OROiM3bwq5froWNq5cdjmNZ/s1600/DSC00914.JPG"><br /></a>Afterwards, while mom and auntie Jo figured out their way back to the hotel (with a few detours and helpful directions from the police man) I went to see the Van Gogh exhibition which I had been anticipating. It was originally scheduled to end a week and a half earlier but to my good fortune it was extended. It was amazing to see so much of his work altogether.<br /><br />The next day we changed our plans after learning from our fellow bed and breakfast guests that the forecast for the following day was rain. So instead, we shifted our plans of going to the Vatican and instead spent the day outside trekking north to see all the sites and monuments: piazza navona, the pantheon, the trevi fountain, the spanish steps, and the changing of the guards ceremony in front of palazzo quirinale.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjXrbWQpS2M-IZTiwZyZzgYAZu3puXfiW_WsEl5gs-zcJmfFK4Lczop5lHhANGPeGCCoOfOw3cc19_ka_VbkBVckkcLaIcqgPx-lOFbA2W_k2gWZZPcbBwOvoFqRle52qw3Yivri0Fbld/s1600/DSC00900.JPG"><br /></a><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwwSLZMtn3A7nzM9gSeqqdxRLBymST-W4QoOGFUWzswdNsnCRjoXkc-_vXYxIWiKjX1EwI18qIed_YCVQR9vQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />This consisted of a 15 minute long procedure, commencing with 3 groups of men in different uniforms (one of which was the band), marching into the piazza, followed by singing, followed by almost a dance of the 2 main palace door guards switching spots with 2 other guards in different uniforms. Then the rest of the men with the same type of uniform as the door guards marched into the palace while men in the other uniforms exited the palace and then joined their fellow-uniformed mates out front with the band to march together back down the street and into the back gate of the palace. WOW! They do this everyday!!<br /><br />The next day the forecast was indeed correct and we spent most of the day inside St. Peter's Basilica and the Vatican Museum while it rained. In the late afternoon we took the bus to a neighborhood south of the river called the ghetto and dined before heading back to the b&b to get our bags and take the bus to the train station.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4e3C9PswBL7n6_9ZnPKff060veUyhSNKazbrKNQ70uXZ22NnxKeb_s1kOAz8jStOAF6kfB7sUSfA1bej8BvBD8Ur79MJJJ4ZRwaHwGeMF7WRiqB1y5s-iR-USj-9hx6xodJBb1GtlqgJq/s1600/DSC00943.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4e3C9PswBL7n6_9ZnPKff060veUyhSNKazbrKNQ70uXZ22NnxKeb_s1kOAz8jStOAF6kfB7sUSfA1bej8BvBD8Ur79MJJJ4ZRwaHwGeMF7WRiqB1y5s-iR-USj-9hx6xodJBb1GtlqgJq/s400/DSC00943.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581462388116365682" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmV_r0vR_GzMmzYFH0oa4vXGjpH5nI5vJJaskqf-8YV7CaVLBBjqEfaFAVd0T5P6ln7WsEfz8xVOD-wFBIgtXYw38Xki3RWvqd4R0JQq5LeYmJHKXs4UfNlMqsBnTYn8tG9VYq3E1lhYqn/s1600/DSC00979.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmV_r0vR_GzMmzYFH0oa4vXGjpH5nI5vJJaskqf-8YV7CaVLBBjqEfaFAVd0T5P6ln7WsEfz8xVOD-wFBIgtXYw38Xki3RWvqd4R0JQq5LeYmJHKXs4UfNlMqsBnTYn8tG9VYq3E1lhYqn/s400/DSC00979.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581462390664596754" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMFrItT426HcNJEX3qn3NByeaHc4Y31bEyGtGtjuLZZ_jHupnYHtStsbAKzZv8i2b3EVRLxbHFyJY3PNErYX6m8rd9jlqG06EzeL38ezpuMI11oDeZUeybru9o3RhCLjwMerw7Cab1bu0/s1600/DSC00983.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMFrItT426HcNJEX3qn3NByeaHc4Y31bEyGtGtjuLZZ_jHupnYHtStsbAKzZv8i2b3EVRLxbHFyJY3PNErYX6m8rd9jlqG06EzeL38ezpuMI11oDeZUeybru9o3RhCLjwMerw7Cab1bu0/s400/DSC00983.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581462392102848258" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The bus was crammed with people and I had my second Roman experience of being felt up inconspicuously against my will on public transportation! Six years ago this happened on the subway in Rome although that time it was really SO packed that it was impossible to figure out which direction it was coming from. I have a feeling some men ride public transportation at rush hour just for this purpose! Because I was literally trapped by bodies, there wasn't much I could do; either scream at the guy (or guys...at one point there was two at the same time!) or deep breathe in order to remain calm and periodically change the direction of my body to make it more difficult. I chose the latter considering that the outcome of freaking out was unknown. I speculated they are probably like the boys in elementary school, the more you react the more they bother you...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTQfCVvS0_r6Uy35xV9by3bCmAGG4gagjmpKBrwYFB13TUEFdC4pwTOkWRsF9EwRhnCJfJDd3Lnn9Qem-qIotAzKl4AqpCT0FZ9jOna7T4CplFmAE4dbHsJeAHx42K_M4mHqmHOWFrD1e/s1600/DSC00775.JPG"><br /></a><br /><br />We made it back to Florence late that evening, exhausted, and I think we all slept well that night. Their last few days in Florence we spent checking off the remaining sights from the list, shopping for scarves in the market, and lounging on the terrace in their upgraded hotel room. We also met Martinho for another dinner, this time at his house where he pleased us with his expert indian cooking. Their departure day was another spring-worthy day in Florence, with sun sun sun. After seeing my mom and auntie Jo off at the airport with big hugs, I spent the day in the park picnicking.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTQfCVvS0_r6Uy35xV9by3bCmAGG4gagjmpKBrwYFB13TUEFdC4pwTOkWRsF9EwRhnCJfJDd3Lnn9Qem-qIotAzKl4AqpCT0FZ9jOna7T4CplFmAE4dbHsJeAHx42K_M4mHqmHOWFrD1e/s1600/DSC00775.JPG"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkxwR46zG3hvj8fN0IVGtirVgWwbaPY8DLPhkERT6S6vjthIZPyY9tihyphenhyphenDHj0sSEtWt1NWchyphenhyphen0zQqpYk31q31huvgLyFbhTQ-sIMhC2UcC5STDjePGQxtlzHZNoCtPxN2KXw6J2QpGiA5/s1600/Italy+160.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkxwR46zG3hvj8fN0IVGtirVgWwbaPY8DLPhkERT6S6vjthIZPyY9tihyphenhyphenDHj0sSEtWt1NWchyphenhyphen0zQqpYk31q31huvgLyFbhTQ-sIMhC2UcC5STDjePGQxtlzHZNoCtPxN2KXw6J2QpGiA5/s400/Italy+160.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581462395812047842" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTbFL22-A3B-xzZdeys0WwhwLeCeAHOAfyeix9MxEKOVChkAV3kcRFYO3aRBZ1yIpiudwv5c9RHDuHA-oSuhUlCPWTwjK005CvNfiQ-IQf03NMaWKErfVjUrwt1iAu4_jHsSHo9z537FZ/s1600/DSC00793.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTbFL22-A3B-xzZdeys0WwhwLeCeAHOAfyeix9MxEKOVChkAV3kcRFYO3aRBZ1yIpiudwv5c9RHDuHA-oSuhUlCPWTwjK005CvNfiQ-IQf03NMaWKErfVjUrwt1iAu4_jHsSHo9z537FZ/s400/DSC00793.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581454944430737154" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuve-8AjkabHSAO-JW4-avTSO-CDrpe54s2UcLpxOcIZX7_t7X8uK7p6IgCtnldjn2KksVUs7d0bPF69zalpISstoxj4tn02UzOxNi0XzLOwpwfBs7QvmKzsSXmphouLYyFOuv-oE71pAJ/s1600/DSC00866.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 97px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuve-8AjkabHSAO-JW4-avTSO-CDrpe54s2UcLpxOcIZX7_t7X8uK7p6IgCtnldjn2KksVUs7d0bPF69zalpISstoxj4tn02UzOxNi0XzLOwpwfBs7QvmKzsSXmphouLYyFOuv-oE71pAJ/s400/DSC00866.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581459544186255874" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPOQamYcVcWAsJVk0t99qt_lD9zL5glL30fFk6CE-Wn-siGxrHwxfkpHA9REb4NHu_DWEgsLHAqxTShT_11BbKwmnHHFJ8LfQhMkdn9N9jGNPMyr_SMoms-Ffs2D-MzTpcgZDFo4HrTpq/s1600/Italy+449.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPOQamYcVcWAsJVk0t99qt_lD9zL5glL30fFk6CE-Wn-siGxrHwxfkpHA9REb4NHu_DWEgsLHAqxTShT_11BbKwmnHHFJ8LfQhMkdn9N9jGNPMyr_SMoms-Ffs2D-MzTpcgZDFo4HrTpq/s400/Italy+449.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581466452953649074" border="0" /></a>Posing with 'Our Canada' magazine, hoping to get our pics in an upcoming issue;)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85BPP04-xrxW7xdTIVkd9tsQP48VTnYrbfkzb0KzFv759JNrFYy0umHw88iM6FUJphWhSl6Ba_SN5bpltogvwM-RF644PJ5cfhVMV-rWCtOz_MuyTyLaYBrveArVlsonCd-3-Vr0a32zQ/s1600/Italy+464.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85BPP04-xrxW7xdTIVkd9tsQP48VTnYrbfkzb0KzFv759JNrFYy0umHw88iM6FUJphWhSl6Ba_SN5bpltogvwM-RF644PJ5cfhVMV-rWCtOz_MuyTyLaYBrveArVlsonCd-3-Vr0a32zQ/s400/Italy+464.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581466448786164450" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPOQamYcVcWAsJVk0t99qt_lD9zL5glL30fFk6CE-Wn-siGxrHwxfkpHA9REb4NHu_DWEgsLHAqxTShT_11BbKwmnHHFJ8LfQhMkdn9N9jGNPMyr_SMoms-Ffs2D-MzTpcgZDFo4HrTpq/s1600/Italy+449.jpg"><br /></a><br />In the following days I put my resume together in English, and then had Giuseppe help me translate it into italian (actually he did it all). Since then I've been scouting out restaurants in the center and applying for work as a waitress. I figure this will be a good opportunity for me to take a break from school, as there's no way I'm ready to tackle level 6 italian, and to make some money while, despite getting hired (hopefully) on the basis of my english speaking credentials, having the opportunity to practice speaking italian. As I'm told, the tourist season is about commence in full so there will be need of english speaking waitresses.<br /><br />I had a quick interview at one restaurant, although at this place the owner insisted that most of the clientele are italian and therefore I must primarily speak italian. Sensing the uncertainty of my ability during this interview (which was in italian) he said we could do a prova (test), to come and work for a few hours to see if I can manage. I've yet to do this as I needed a few days to prepare myself before following up and by the time I did, I was told that they've found someone for the time being, but they will need more people in 2 weeks...so we'll see. However I've arranged an interview at another place on wednesday, a restaurant and jazz bar, which I think will be even better. Fingers crossed.<br /><br />Yesterday Giuseppe and I decided to go to Viareggio for the carnevale upon realizing that it was a nice day (the past few weekends have been cool and rainy again). We caught the train in a hurry and an hour and half later, arrived in this town on the western coast of italy with some new friends, 2 south-american ladies that we sat beside on the train. Before heading into the parade area, we stopped to eat altogether at the one restaurant that had contorni on the menu (side dishes of vegetables), rather than just pizza, which unfortunately I can't eat due to my gluten intolerance. (However there are a few places in Florence which serve gluten free pizza, yum!).<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQUlB80e7UB4OdvotfvasmOBcmsvHi03W4CAjvWrfj3cmqFu9mnO9SX2Eg0Y4jnN3l5Ha0ig-uz8IGyjVPhrUSZaf-bzjuuF7a2qB-iirBt05i5PV18NggZddo3fFSzTmXVr-C-4Gfq3fp/s1600/DSC01083.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQUlB80e7UB4OdvotfvasmOBcmsvHi03W4CAjvWrfj3cmqFu9mnO9SX2Eg0Y4jnN3l5Ha0ig-uz8IGyjVPhrUSZaf-bzjuuF7a2qB-iirBt05i5PV18NggZddo3fFSzTmXVr-C-4Gfq3fp/s400/DSC01083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581470001529131074" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_GDPdKADP6gUBFX98-sBTR2ir_HPHzbgaMoSVK2J7GzPEYebcB4PTd6quh3RCB59cPHzHgqhzOEYSivxyChmGIo9hywWHAOcu3yjfz-YIvgb2G9OzeK3rEjO7NlLstMSCMbm56PV399_/s1600/DSC01043.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_GDPdKADP6gUBFX98-sBTR2ir_HPHzbgaMoSVK2J7GzPEYebcB4PTd6quh3RCB59cPHzHgqhzOEYSivxyChmGIo9hywWHAOcu3yjfz-YIvgb2G9OzeK3rEjO7NlLstMSCMbm56PV399_/s400/DSC01043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581470005695276770" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBXBjurOsbXZU-ouK1Y0N17KdaMRS4GTOmhNQ7FBN3TbjEmSny3xu37EPCPlsq81-1LCLlZDkhPzq1AfxZcgcIX8oIplVkgkm45E5VeJmYSqGPs8fkL-I-wDXMYloHNx1QxDXgG-Bpd4Y/s1600/DSC01068.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBXBjurOsbXZU-ouK1Y0N17KdaMRS4GTOmhNQ7FBN3TbjEmSny3xu37EPCPlsq81-1LCLlZDkhPzq1AfxZcgcIX8oIplVkgkm45E5VeJmYSqGPs8fkL-I-wDXMYloHNx1QxDXgG-Bpd4Y/s400/DSC01068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581470002855894242" border="0" /></a><br />We made it into the parade area shortly after it started, and crawled through the crowds of people dressed in costumes to find a good spot to watch the amazingly gigantic and intricate floats pass by, one after another after another. Eventually we parted ways with the south-american ladies and walked down the main street for another glimpse of the floats which were now parked and lit up as the sun was setting. We also took a little detour before heading back to the train, to the beach, so I could stick my finger in the sea:)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQUlB80e7UB4OdvotfvasmOBcmsvHi03W4CAjvWrfj3cmqFu9mnO9SX2Eg0Y4jnN3l5Ha0ig-uz8IGyjVPhrUSZaf-bzjuuF7a2qB-iirBt05i5PV18NggZddo3fFSzTmXVr-C-4Gfq3fp/s1600/DSC01083.JPG"><br /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERlKMo_o7JsjL3P6EfYzbTz_HrWrV7RHtp5ex50EtijQd49SrJ_p7dPPJEU_Ha_K7nZuOhdWRkKoo_fvV0OxSV22VPeHWoYILFISlOUVNyZKJFhO78BgnAyVI56-G0XDh88DyfXmzy1Zw/s1600/DSC01071.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERlKMo_o7JsjL3P6EfYzbTz_HrWrV7RHtp5ex50EtijQd49SrJ_p7dPPJEU_Ha_K7nZuOhdWRkKoo_fvV0OxSV22VPeHWoYILFISlOUVNyZKJFhO78BgnAyVI56-G0XDh88DyfXmzy1Zw/s400/DSC01071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581469990476680642" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9oT9TKiB-5T6-NT9J0t8ZwhzkVoESXGN9ugYHIfY9PYcnEfXNaxr4INXlRT1daRiSSYFeDdrVAxHNS5ERYZ-2of_vDn-wV9rRLiJ-0IVKZNwlbF5IN4DrzCvu2n4i3oeW-v4k_Q4PLhz/s1600/DSC01088.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9oT9TKiB-5T6-NT9J0t8ZwhzkVoESXGN9ugYHIfY9PYcnEfXNaxr4INXlRT1daRiSSYFeDdrVAxHNS5ERYZ-2of_vDn-wV9rRLiJ-0IVKZNwlbF5IN4DrzCvu2n4i3oeW-v4k_Q4PLhz/s400/DSC01088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581469995791222642" border="0" /></a>This was the best one!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwMMcHc_YZvLWj8Asmj9oto1olyu2409WtX9cOmS1c16e2cTA_qEh-ZjD0AuqTRWmZ64A5DjF61QibrMaN0Wg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-88112295771261477532011-01-21T02:22:00.000-08:002011-01-23T14:15:50.088-08:00Saldi (Sale)!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOqV4KE-IJWomqTWJsaV8NIiLLjH3ma_bbRgmpHXGVuwowuTXgHUiMRWfm6P7LN-3kfYs9hJwez_7biKGeuNPhaWkJF5BWfQ_u9TrAc797JvFIVqHmU-qU5ibJl6qk8EMw5OiGM2AqEK2J/s1600/DSC00173.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOqV4KE-IJWomqTWJsaV8NIiLLjH3ma_bbRgmpHXGVuwowuTXgHUiMRWfm6P7LN-3kfYs9hJwez_7biKGeuNPhaWkJF5BWfQ_u9TrAc797JvFIVqHmU-qU5ibJl6qk8EMw5OiGM2AqEK2J/s400/DSC00173.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565497918594008514" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxzyJ0SmcAbwOEQoNK9bIJzk8zHk_f6qdhTHNhGupqN0VacPDWRZE3hW-AQHqnqNT3C6arjruDkacf5wO8YjTNzBb7Op0jP8F6bWb7OuxMeWT_ahL3N0d647iW1dQZeWlKv1UyU6SbyZd/s1600/DSC00131.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxzyJ0SmcAbwOEQoNK9bIJzk8zHk_f6qdhTHNhGupqN0VacPDWRZE3hW-AQHqnqNT3C6arjruDkacf5wO8YjTNzBb7Op0jP8F6bWb7OuxMeWT_ahL3N0d647iW1dQZeWlKv1UyU6SbyZd/s400/DSC00131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565497914284448114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi73rqbzyDO_sWD32jXyAGwX3NPNqNVOxd-fA3TQ83yw0KLgARl1vi_y3WUmwPElRUP4tcpN_rDiNvDOlO-vNcCM1iKshS_kUrTkPMbBh_1DGmoqwhZ6IAbkK9JWydFl8QHWgbpaJQdK87h/s1600/DSC00117.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi73rqbzyDO_sWD32jXyAGwX3NPNqNVOxd-fA3TQ83yw0KLgARl1vi_y3WUmwPElRUP4tcpN_rDiNvDOlO-vNcCM1iKshS_kUrTkPMbBh_1DGmoqwhZ6IAbkK9JWydFl8QHWgbpaJQdK87h/s400/DSC00117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565497910533749058" border="0" /></a><br />As a note in response to my last post, Italy does have after christmas sales...they just don't start until after ALL the holidays had finished, which here means the second week of january. All the store windows now have signs announcing 'saldi' and at H & M I bought 2 belts, a pair of shoes, a dress and a hat for 30 Euro!!<br /><br />January has been flying by at warp speed. I started my next round of italian classes on the 10th and like the last time, the first day consisted of writing a test and speaking with one of the teachers to determine which level you belong in. I finished level 2 in December and had been studying a lot with my other workbooks and cds, so I was secretly hoping to maybe skip up a level. However to my surprise, after speaking with the teacher and reviewing my test, he felt that I should skip two levels, up to level 5 (there are only 6 levels at this school)!<br /><br />I was a bit hesitant and asked about level 4 but he said that in level 4 they would be teaching grammar that I already knew, as I had just demonstrated on the test. So, level 5 it was! It's been really challenging and has since made my 3.5 hour tuesday night class feel easier in comparison. When it comes to reading and writing, I'm really on top of it, but with speaking and listening I'm not quite there yet. The key is lentamente.... (slowly).<br /><br />I speak slow because I need time to think about each successive word I'm going to say and make sure that the endings agree and make sure I put the words in the right order....... I can understand well when someone speaks slow and clear but at normal speed the words mush together before they reach my ear. However over the past months I've observed my brain's progress with picking up on more and more information when listening to italian at normal speed. I'm also starting to hear meaning in the lyrics of the italian songs I bought on itunes (from italian bands: dente, zero assoluto, and fabri fibra (italian rap!)) which I have been listening to on repeat for months. Quindi, piano, piano (So, slowly, slowly).<br /><br />I've also discovered a valuable resource thanks to someone telling me (although I can't remember who...), languagetandem.net, where you can meet people for language exchange in your city. In my case I'm able to meet up with Italians who are learning English, and you take turns speaking in both languages. This is amazing because it's free, mutually beneficial, and you can sympathize with each other about the difficulties of learning a new language. So far I've met with 2 people, Francesca, an economics student from Sardinia (an island in italy) and Giuseppe, an engineer from Calabria (the same region where my great grandparents were from).<br /><br />Francesca and I sat in the sun for 2 hours in Piazza Santa Croce last saturday for our conversation and she gave me some grammar corrections and also words of advice for language learning. She spoke english really well and quite fast so the corrections I gave her were very few and minor. Her boyfriend is American so she's had lots of english practice. Giuseppe and I met for an aperitivo (the italian term for a cocktail which includes a buffet) last sunday and he told me some entertaining stories (in italian). I tried my best to follow along but if I got lost then he would clarify the situation in english. It was helpful for me that his level of english was closer (although still better) to my level of italian. The conversation was less about correcting each other and more about understanding, which at this point is what I need, to just practice speaking without getting caught up in the grammar.<br /><br />When I met him on the website his profile said that he liked salsa dancing and I had wrote to him that I also liked dancing but I hadn't done salsa before. He replied saying that he could teach me sometime if I was interested. So, as we were finishing our drinks he asked if I was up for salsa that night as there was a place he knew that had salsa music on sundays. I hadn't planned on it and wasn't dressed for it, but as I'm always up for dancing I said certo (sure)!<br /><br />My first salsa lesson consisted of 'one, two, three' with the right foot behind, and then 'one, two, three' with the left foot ahead. 6 seconds later I was being spun all over the dance floor and hardly missed a beat for the rest of the night. Incredibile! Giuseppe kept saying. He was in complete awe that I was keeping up with his 6 years of lessons. The truth is, as the guy leads, I was only able to keep up because he knew what he was doing. I just kept doing 'one, two, three' 'one, two, three' (or in italian uno, due, tre) with my feet, relaxed the rest of my body, and shut off my brain in order to follow the fast turns and direction changes. It was really so much fun!!!!! I hope we can go again this week when Giuseppe returns from London. No salsa isn't italian, but the italian's seem to like it as there were lots of people there dancing and practicing. Amazing!<br /><br />This month I have an extra roommate, an extra Rosie. She's american, from South Carolina, studying art restoration here in Florence. A friend of my english Rosie, she found herself without an apartment when plans for housesitting her friend's apartment fell though last minute. It's been nice having a house full of girls to laugh with. We make fun of each other's slang terms and pronunciation of words. Although she doesn't really have a southern accent, we bug american Rosie for saying 'y'all' a lot!<br /><br />An old coworker of english Rosie's was visiting Florence for a few days last week and we met up with him on Friday evening. They worked together in a pub in Dorset (in rural england) but it turns out this guy was originally from Hussar!!? What the??! (Hussar is a tiny town very close to the town where I'm from, Drumheller, in rural Alberta) His family moved to Manitoba when he was 12, but it's a pretty crazy coincidence to meet someone in Florence, who used to work with my roommate in England, and yet is from nearly the same small town as me. Strano (strange)!<br /><br />I was so happy to hear some news about the package I've been waiting for for the last 2 months, which although isn't the greatest of news, I'm just relieved to know the package hasn't vanished, which is what I was preparing myself to hear. The package is being sent back to Toronto. They couldn't tell me what the problem was but they did say that I'll get my 140$ postage fees back only if the problem was the fault of the italian postal service. If it was a problem with the address written on the package, then I won't get my money back. We verified the address was correct numerous times but we'll see what they say upon delivering the package back to Firas in Toronto. I'm just glad my favorite yellow shoes will be safe and I will look forward to reuniting my feet with them in July:)<br /><br />I managed to get another copy of my daytimer printed here in Florence, EXACTLY how I wanted it, even despite having to explain everything in italian! The first price I was quoted was 30 Euro but then I asked if there was a way to make it cheaper (c'e` un modo fare piu` economico?) and I'm not sure what he changed but all of a sudden (all'improvviso) the price became 16 Euro! Nice! Maybe he was giving me the tourist price initially, haha. Many things work like that here.<br /><br />Sometimes when I've been studying italian a lot and then start writing or speaking in english again I realize that I've changed my sentence structure and word order to resemble the italian form (which then sounds like bad english)! So funny. My poor brain, trying to make sense of things. I'm definately keeping it on it's toes.<br /><br />I was really surprised this week at my Tuesday class, when we were reviewing the past perfect verb form (which I'm quite comfortable with at this point), many of the other students were having trouble. I realized that I've been deceived by their fast and confident speaking, into thinking that they were also speaking grammatically correct! This has been a good example for me, to be less conscious of making mistakes and just spit it out. The more you speak the better you will get, so like many things, the hardest part is to start and not be self-conscious of saying something incorrect (i just realized this sentence rhymes, haha!!). My perfectionist tendencies will hopefully lose the battle against my will to speak. The worst that can happen is a misunderstanding, which often happens anyway, even when you speak grammatically perfect!!!<br /><br />I guess I didn't slow down to smell the flowers in these last couple weeks as I didn't take any pictures! However, here's some oldies which I don't think I've posted before. The picture at the top is of the ponte vecchio (the old bridge) which one day was set up as a driving range for golf with greens floating in the Arno river! I know my dad will appreciate:)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrELOCvu_gN0Ogp2eRu3lkYd-d0TzTPu1w0FvcYiJwRcQ0PtJUypk6JiYRYS4iXYg2205cW-3_XvuKbjhc_HY8OG1AOmU4uZrZ0-Zytl8-xcvtn6PPlSO7IjwhR9uh0tYuKIaaO1pgopv4/s1600/DSC00112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrELOCvu_gN0Ogp2eRu3lkYd-d0TzTPu1w0FvcYiJwRcQ0PtJUypk6JiYRYS4iXYg2205cW-3_XvuKbjhc_HY8OG1AOmU4uZrZ0-Zytl8-xcvtn6PPlSO7IjwhR9uh0tYuKIaaO1pgopv4/s400/DSC00112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565497902402938658" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm_XHJ926I1GeZYzjkpFi46CYNheUXHico7V5Q18BFUIv9LSrcs-YHHla2zzZ6fsFAeDXoEXbSIpDahyphenhyphenYftyrlbKJQrsGwLfPDpTMPcOuTAjFyROD04nu3BcFlFjkPdSS4j1fVZqhIDRfH/s1600/DSC00115.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm_XHJ926I1GeZYzjkpFi46CYNheUXHico7V5Q18BFUIv9LSrcs-YHHla2zzZ6fsFAeDXoEXbSIpDahyphenhyphenYftyrlbKJQrsGwLfPDpTMPcOuTAjFyROD04nu3BcFlFjkPdSS4j1fVZqhIDRfH/s400/DSC00115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565497903554217986" border="0" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-60413202682616034022011-01-06T10:52:00.000-08:002011-01-06T14:59:06.586-08:00Buone feste! (happy holidays!)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDtCF3dmjrLrMWKD5mP8-rhW3feRzOLEH1XYMmQGW-o0Kx62qpJHB2e-SL6s2qs0JtyaLXeELq_JZ1oCHTA2n40VC_ZrVaBQ3OuflubYbSsOff1pUW7o8n1Siieg2fA5p8VjsLGSxGr8oW/s1600/DSC00190.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDtCF3dmjrLrMWKD5mP8-rhW3feRzOLEH1XYMmQGW-o0Kx62qpJHB2e-SL6s2qs0JtyaLXeELq_JZ1oCHTA2n40VC_ZrVaBQ3OuflubYbSsOff1pUW7o8n1Siieg2fA5p8VjsLGSxGr8oW/s400/DSC00190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192007821102178" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcZvuuOl1QsQIVnPCVaQ7RhlD8Oj9ZH0enpsqNLNpJ8UU2M-AAyOsDYqHRmvjwuoWFzrrsG3tHpSPBZGeY1k9LcrXNi7PilJdBgAiber23T767d8uU9hMXo76Q_JM9r5LadWl7jAsT1IC/s1600/DSC00184.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikcZvuuOl1QsQIVnPCVaQ7RhlD8Oj9ZH0enpsqNLNpJ8UU2M-AAyOsDYqHRmvjwuoWFzrrsG3tHpSPBZGeY1k9LcrXNi7PilJdBgAiber23T767d8uU9hMXo76Q_JM9r5LadWl7jAsT1IC/s400/DSC00184.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192001999294018" border="0" /></a><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='321' height='267' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxNgagQCykd2Dqh9vnLAsQtrF5pImBBDNO8MqHcbvhlyI-J0v1qro2aP1TAQ1n3UfKC0IyphQC3Awn-SGpRyQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This video is in Sherbourne, a village near Rosie's house. </span><br /><br /><br />Today was yet another religious holiday in Italy, Epiphany! The day the 3 wise men visited baby Jesus, I'm told.<br /><br />I returned to Florence from England on the morning of the 31st, just in time for capodanno (the new year). I took the bus back from the airport in Pisa, about an hour and a half ride from Florence, and beautiful. My breath was almost taken away looking at the views. The charming, crumbling homes, sitting on the organically sloping Tuscan hills with irregular divisions of garden and grapevine land. Then, deep in the background was the alps! However I actually had a closer view of these on my plane ride back from england, wow!!! My ride TO the airport was on the train which didn't offer any comparable view.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpr5b93g1L3gSlbmR8ZkVHWSuta4yN7OCwzRUlxxGoJ1q6nK96Zbamp18mmETmb_MrIEqJYYK8NIZYYBXU4T1TgBA57j03Hz-ENBXTGsyrKt2aMpTrc98qg5xd0hO7BGe8i1yAZbxENAr4/s1600/DSC00648.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpr5b93g1L3gSlbmR8ZkVHWSuta4yN7OCwzRUlxxGoJ1q6nK96Zbamp18mmETmb_MrIEqJYYK8NIZYYBXU4T1TgBA57j03Hz-ENBXTGsyrKt2aMpTrc98qg5xd0hO7BGe8i1yAZbxENAr4/s400/DSC00648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559175060684346786" border="0" /></a><br />A few days prior to departing there was an extraordinary happening in Florence, NEVE (SNOW)! Actually it should no longer be considered SO special in that it happened almost on the same date last year. However I understand there was even more snow this year and it occurred in many areas of Italy and Europe, interrupting travel plans for many people. For me, it meant buying new boots as my current ones had a hole in the toe and there was no sign of my package from Canada containing replacements. I trudged to the train station in my sneakers and found some cute grey rubberboots for 27 Euro, on sale from 55. Lucky for this desperate shopper. These boots kept my feet dry all through the holidays, to Great Britian and back to Italy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsUo6IKgwVdwevjs96Rnyaf_kGzVgK-mSaLK6FJGoz7CLeYbJrbrelV1mL-v_JaVn8h46m17dJmsE-W8UURxA7NWnZc5D8_ajDyLInfeYSDKjqsGIO7Oqvhy6m9qY-0qv561WF8ZH50fwv/s1600/DSC00236.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsUo6IKgwVdwevjs96Rnyaf_kGzVgK-mSaLK6FJGoz7CLeYbJrbrelV1mL-v_JaVn8h46m17dJmsE-W8UURxA7NWnZc5D8_ajDyLInfeYSDKjqsGIO7Oqvhy6m9qY-0qv561WF8ZH50fwv/s400/DSC00236.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559203509929896626" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTw4xmPR3RhvvhWmkntn4qf3g3fI9gu5z6kUTkWBKxXQ2-Bnazq9J7w12Q5p-tJasKIynOp-crIlAottufj0oSLaAO2V3AnZiC8shE_-rydi34d0adfSUxNuXayTVDBHSnPXAysIl90iyJ/s1600/DSC00247.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTw4xmPR3RhvvhWmkntn4qf3g3fI9gu5z6kUTkWBKxXQ2-Bnazq9J7w12Q5p-tJasKIynOp-crIlAottufj0oSLaAO2V3AnZiC8shE_-rydi34d0adfSUxNuXayTVDBHSnPXAysIl90iyJ/s400/DSC00247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559195239578317714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikAPUfIMAYue9ZwMDLcoHcM_LzWgw7-M4TbYfAleNl0gefS3pz_MmgUiR3gYv-s9DWIWWQ-nVJEV5RoRvfnz6LrL6rGSEcJdBGssyg4qy0jzCGD506UyPWb9KgALHsxDPaiT3p5sgyoYBI/s1600/DSC00208.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikAPUfIMAYue9ZwMDLcoHcM_LzWgw7-M4TbYfAleNl0gefS3pz_MmgUiR3gYv-s9DWIWWQ-nVJEV5RoRvfnz6LrL6rGSEcJdBGssyg4qy0jzCGD506UyPWb9KgALHsxDPaiT3p5sgyoYBI/s400/DSC00208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192024410874050" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6y6KQfXBY8ocKJ33XzR2nXhyphenhyphenCRSfdQjpfm5YkkQFyM5n9bwuuBor43yUHVx8l8IctFvRsXjaMZGTPLVYsdtIuCaEDLdd4LdV35AW_KBlLqe_0vURR0p7PTSrHa7AAmP_tSa-dYtOgHcw/s1600/DSC00206.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI6y6KQfXBY8ocKJ33XzR2nXhyphenhyphenCRSfdQjpfm5YkkQFyM5n9bwuuBor43yUHVx8l8IctFvRsXjaMZGTPLVYsdtIuCaEDLdd4LdV35AW_KBlLqe_0vURR0p7PTSrHa7AAmP_tSa-dYtOgHcw/s400/DSC00206.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192021214682690" border="0" /></a>England was beautiful and awe inspiring in it's own ways. London is such a grand city, and that word really sums it up. Classy, statuesque, functional, GRAND! I was expecting it to be more 'westernized' in some ways, like new york, but alas it is a city with so much history it makes us north americans grovel. Or at least it made me do so. Big ben and westminster abbey are a sight one must see in reality, pictures and movies just don't suffice. There was really so much to see and I did my best although I believe I still have some unfinished work there.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3tEr7Nb7agXbG6-JYtotzsI2mtCeHARIhqbZ4uoXO8pHEgR_cZXdpyblWT0cVR_jWGSAiCz-BtwxL6ZkkURIlxkVr33MyfTNdlIbA3GOtMBy_FR2VOJuB-jHMVnd8Z7hFcXvHPbhgeK7D/s1600/DSC00556.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3tEr7Nb7agXbG6-JYtotzsI2mtCeHARIhqbZ4uoXO8pHEgR_cZXdpyblWT0cVR_jWGSAiCz-BtwxL6ZkkURIlxkVr33MyfTNdlIbA3GOtMBy_FR2VOJuB-jHMVnd8Z7hFcXvHPbhgeK7D/s400/DSC00556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559178717578490706" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtde2ZqGx8TDrbfbr-KK7PxIOIPdeY8S6EwqclsInaIjzDULONRMbmR0hIug5l5e2Lt5mGbuMO0601dD2ZfspfPfukSLiopcyjd6yT2wQDVMkulxbz6_mP__j1dtSejnN01kkN9HktNvPt/s1600/DSC00547.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtde2ZqGx8TDrbfbr-KK7PxIOIPdeY8S6EwqclsInaIjzDULONRMbmR0hIug5l5e2Lt5mGbuMO0601dD2ZfspfPfukSLiopcyjd6yT2wQDVMkulxbz6_mP__j1dtSejnN01kkN9HktNvPt/s400/DSC00547.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559180397054630514" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKpuY14uObsRBAqSOUadF5TmorEDA6EqUhRTFbtiiMAQPzKEOjNMGv5E_ti8qTS5tUN2QbaBIiX-nK_-tVuOz4-qM2BuKnNzUo_MeyeyKiGwMFkejfG-4kk9ObFUyZw1PpxfjM3VFikLiO/s1600/DSC00551.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKpuY14uObsRBAqSOUadF5TmorEDA6EqUhRTFbtiiMAQPzKEOjNMGv5E_ti8qTS5tUN2QbaBIiX-nK_-tVuOz4-qM2BuKnNzUo_MeyeyKiGwMFkejfG-4kk9ObFUyZw1PpxfjM3VFikLiO/s400/DSC00551.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559178686146168514" border="0" /></a><br />I went to tons of galleries and art lovers are truly fortunate that most of the galleries in London are FREE! That suited my budget perfectly. I saw many masterpieces from some of my favorite impressionist artists and many paintings by John Singer Sargent, hands down AMAZING! This man had godly abilities. I was so happy to see 2 exhibits on fashion illustration which profoundly inspired me and I also passed by 'The Cartoon Museum' which made me smile, especially after seeing some original Ronald Searle illustrations. I also got the most amazing book there on Lifestyle Illustrations of the 1960's. If I can only own 1 art book for the rest of my life, let it be this one. AND I got 5 Pounds off because I pointed out the large crease in the cover, YESSS.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYpRuQ21vXEytvQuiBWXtZrO56hwYg25q6yKHugDAR0vim8ucqrz4dMmDOmCaOhn3lI1XDPmYLD_hJZ7gC34Trom19HAFcCtCvjGhB0P03byj9-elQ6QzyvxUTaVQx5kfHYK08RfhIcry/s1600/DSC00200.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYpRuQ21vXEytvQuiBWXtZrO56hwYg25q6yKHugDAR0vim8ucqrz4dMmDOmCaOhn3lI1XDPmYLD_hJZ7gC34Trom19HAFcCtCvjGhB0P03byj9-elQ6QzyvxUTaVQx5kfHYK08RfhIcry/s400/DSC00200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559192018594708050" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpo6zD84CYF_7_d0b880Z6sojot2wn2UxALbS57EChWkva80DIr9UNJhHN7EzPqF8aPkl3Ag0kTbm9T0u-xOAI9iivI-gi-TZfsGFLA1Z3XIlzYohbO8ZqSrKpyw9JwSz1AArD2XxFRbxr/s1600/DSC00483.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpo6zD84CYF_7_d0b880Z6sojot2wn2UxALbS57EChWkva80DIr9UNJhHN7EzPqF8aPkl3Ag0kTbm9T0u-xOAI9iivI-gi-TZfsGFLA1Z3XIlzYohbO8ZqSrKpyw9JwSz1AArD2XxFRbxr/s400/DSC00483.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559180413034185298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTf3NyCzg6pKc8vn1nPl28sB12W2MMngg__Nc6wXCS4Jz7bQYli-Tm_L41rKgCa2iesKKJkL8ElfTp1oKLV5Jxaqfg7XtOF5HKI-pl4c7VCZf-l-EAF05GF9_Md96h3F38SiuJcsHAbLz/s1600/DSC00491.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTf3NyCzg6pKc8vn1nPl28sB12W2MMngg__Nc6wXCS4Jz7bQYli-Tm_L41rKgCa2iesKKJkL8ElfTp1oKLV5Jxaqfg7XtOF5HKI-pl4c7VCZf-l-EAF05GF9_Md96h3F38SiuJcsHAbLz/s400/DSC00491.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559180401907849298" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVtMWNJmGYa-X_2-AMrCeKr833po-oe2lueKIYgLx6w62WZxRUNaHRvhWtdp1BW00-gDNyuBh_9_GQn_LhjBvrRcbfQgpncm-LYcg-qxZ2LknajWX1jkUOZl-qu3hG2BMDrCL6UUrLsZe/s1600/DSC00596.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVtMWNJmGYa-X_2-AMrCeKr833po-oe2lueKIYgLx6w62WZxRUNaHRvhWtdp1BW00-gDNyuBh_9_GQn_LhjBvrRcbfQgpncm-LYcg-qxZ2LknajWX1jkUOZl-qu3hG2BMDrCL6UUrLsZe/s400/DSC00596.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559180394652287650" border="0" /></a><br />My hostel was right in the middle of the action in Piccadily Circus, similar to Times Square in New York, so it was convenient for me to go exploring on foot in the evenings and it was coincidentally just around the corner from Whole Foods! Of course London is renowned for it's stage shows so I inquired about some discount tickets but they weren't quite discounted enough for me so I caught a musical movie instead. 'Burlesque' with Christina Aguilera and Cher. Loved it, 'nuff said. Apart from my gallery hopping and sightseeing, I also checked out some organic and vegetarian restaurants, although I missed out on some due to holiday closings, scoped out the alternative neighborhood of Camden Town (London's huge version of Toronto's kensington market?), and did a bit of shopping which in the end I could not resist thanks to the fabulous holiday sales:) I bought a dress at H&M in London for 10 Pounds which still costs 30 Euros at the H&M in Florence!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvhXJLeGV8xH9iJT8qOc75uoCgiNgPzS8bUM1jdt45MKssDz1Oj5is-7j9QSM26F2wCfp5P_mpZcoSWpASyp7fqmteDWhPvsB4opLfiwe9V6TbG8hqIBJG-AKI1WIUZjUuuc3Q5Owqo4jx/s1600/DSC00589.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvhXJLeGV8xH9iJT8qOc75uoCgiNgPzS8bUM1jdt45MKssDz1Oj5is-7j9QSM26F2wCfp5P_mpZcoSWpASyp7fqmteDWhPvsB4opLfiwe9V6TbG8hqIBJG-AKI1WIUZjUuuc3Q5Owqo4jx/s400/DSC00589.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559178711826778082" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYyPe6p4VMk83-I4qfI1dGb5Em09KX36KL0LMhm7EBRTPK9LTb1aZVAHUEeIxEEV7_dAgjCNQahqZjy1zgb4gLmUiKs-YonlHzJv5qtKymrqDAUGmUc9ee5kSR19dyzcM2MlW3QqLBmwo/s1600/DSC00594.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYyPe6p4VMk83-I4qfI1dGb5Em09KX36KL0LMhm7EBRTPK9LTb1aZVAHUEeIxEEV7_dAgjCNQahqZjy1zgb4gLmUiKs-YonlHzJv5qtKymrqDAUGmUc9ee5kSR19dyzcM2MlW3QqLBmwo/s400/DSC00594.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559178705151810210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Although it was sort of a break to be in an english speaking country, there were some other things to get used to, most notably, besides the accents and yet another change of currency, the cars driving on the left. Jaywalking is a dangerous feat for those unaccustomed! Of course this also means pedestrian traffic flows on the left too. Although it's english, I was still confused at first that instead of 'exit' the signs say 'way out' and instead of 'yld' they say 'give way'. Is it possible the british are more wordie than north americans, using 2-worded signs?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxRxaxKi5RTUadfedYzbmICpbx1ORD-79JHyHf0C9CyTP-SvpstGOdCiYbEzMUJY3QD9Qfj8oY4JTfCFKSkSvfizwVN5Dgdr0BcTt5aYzyH28Kl9ZaEwla60SviAAc682LXdyJQMJu_5L/s1600/DSC00461.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxRxaxKi5RTUadfedYzbmICpbx1ORD-79JHyHf0C9CyTP-SvpstGOdCiYbEzMUJY3QD9Qfj8oY4JTfCFKSkSvfizwVN5Dgdr0BcTt5aYzyH28Kl9ZaEwla60SviAAc682LXdyJQMJu_5L/s400/DSC00461.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559201663734111602" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmbwj2oQSvQ0SZUWqf03YSoHFjvOSWqIOromBGHLDmw6wTNOhRmPK1KbCAbWTlPJ5ZHJBw7GFUQulDaulWT4BD8MFxx9SvQPML5-n_fqC-wjBg1fk4zzinQ95Q2q4I4YRKCu6TyQUBrlgL/s1600/DSC00320.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmbwj2oQSvQ0SZUWqf03YSoHFjvOSWqIOromBGHLDmw6wTNOhRmPK1KbCAbWTlPJ5ZHJBw7GFUQulDaulWT4BD8MFxx9SvQPML5-n_fqC-wjBg1fk4zzinQ95Q2q4I4YRKCu6TyQUBrlgL/s400/DSC00320.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559195241044036434" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeIDxsy0v_0fnaixV33r7zEdZgYlukFEUS6ZdciNGHQyUHIRTH7JFgf026-4Fr0QWlxl6gPXecnDTOrKhw9d7r_AfUEcELuzdBygeaaHHLMcyU3H4HLS7qUwSfKaUCU8bX14-aCuDuS1qv/s1600/DSC00321.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeIDxsy0v_0fnaixV33r7zEdZgYlukFEUS6ZdciNGHQyUHIRTH7JFgf026-4Fr0QWlxl6gPXecnDTOrKhw9d7r_AfUEcELuzdBygeaaHHLMcyU3H4HLS7qUwSfKaUCU8bX14-aCuDuS1qv/s400/DSC00321.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559195248719990818" border="0" /></a><br />I took the 2 hour bus ride out to the english countryside to meet Rosie and her family on the evening of the 23rd. Unfortunately it was dark both times I traveled as apparently the bus went right past Stonehenge! I had a wonderful time eating, doing puzzles, sightseeing, and tobogoning (they called it 'bogging' or 'sledging') with Rosie and her family. This included her mom and dad, her 2 sisters and their husbands/fiances, their dog, Truffle, and the newest addition to their family, Clementine, Rosie's 5 month old niece. They have a beautifully renovated farmhouse in the village of Oborne in Dorset with a huge kitchen and walls full of art and collectibles from their travels, like a museum, I told them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHuMTu21z51fCoCxQnC3pAiZ9OJ5p-meAQ9_Glrv2GPIdlMBAbbsghcU9cXuWkYI-T6gAjxS5_QXKpO3j5FIfHIuVa-Jafro5MpccbEMaQt5A5rISOsRrEjC5FfjhWJ2wEI39CyfJuv8Kh/s1600/DSC00382.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHuMTu21z51fCoCxQnC3pAiZ9OJ5p-meAQ9_Glrv2GPIdlMBAbbsghcU9cXuWkYI-T6gAjxS5_QXKpO3j5FIfHIuVa-Jafro5MpccbEMaQt5A5rISOsRrEjC5FfjhWJ2wEI39CyfJuv8Kh/s400/DSC00382.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559199592534777650" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YO_ug-ogB6CNv0-L_ZE8hEb_z0wGXJf16LcYAdUtebWtQREq5W2mFnSAq2TeRSeZojQ8PbTCJ4Mnokr-hLZKW7j843el-cpi2IZpAnMMGPlevnHSaToXTA4zOyQM_b-ek6MRJdToUq1W/s1600/DSC00444.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YO_ug-ogB6CNv0-L_ZE8hEb_z0wGXJf16LcYAdUtebWtQREq5W2mFnSAq2TeRSeZojQ8PbTCJ4Mnokr-hLZKW7j843el-cpi2IZpAnMMGPlevnHSaToXTA4zOyQM_b-ek6MRJdToUq1W/s400/DSC00444.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559201677491758322" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsXfw2sh4A2VHqRY0Qypgs6Dy2CUTGk3vio70cY8rLPCKXPX3jSZiXJ_15ZzfIugsxnkJI9nvEqGkjq_JwxRl6b9EvKUK-QbFWNIHKqAuBuNcckvb0lUc1I255PYVb1pIB_8rQWrWgrEs/s1600/DSC00339.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHsXfw2sh4A2VHqRY0Qypgs6Dy2CUTGk3vio70cY8rLPCKXPX3jSZiXJ_15ZzfIugsxnkJI9nvEqGkjq_JwxRl6b9EvKUK-QbFWNIHKqAuBuNcckvb0lUc1I255PYVb1pIB_8rQWrWgrEs/s400/DSC00339.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559195250509090418" border="0" /></a><br />It was really interesting to see how people live in this part of the world. Some of the buildings are over a thousand years old! I enjoyed the english practices of having tea time everyday at 4 o'clock and learning to play Snooker at their neighbor's house. I took to it quickly and impressed everyone as I've always had a bit of a knack for pool;)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeO-lvkiYJeKHBqwaSRhKRGT3bCF69rvb9YWGV73Dk1JWm0eKbzJ0eRT2Ms7RrUKLBII9lPEsN6bmc3LUedWQ4bjd341XzFuS_Y80akufjSbyGIPgKePrpfCAi1UuOjDZ5dct9a3PpPo_/s1600/DSC00375.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeO-lvkiYJeKHBqwaSRhKRGT3bCF69rvb9YWGV73Dk1JWm0eKbzJ0eRT2Ms7RrUKLBII9lPEsN6bmc3LUedWQ4bjd341XzFuS_Y80akufjSbyGIPgKePrpfCAi1UuOjDZ5dct9a3PpPo_/s400/DSC00375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559199584789354802" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIuCrE5CTJ-BbI7LMuVvZpEOqpkdDIJCcI25FO_kVBJdpKCDnhcYIvC5azufrnkitKqHvnOU_1XfBaZpEo5AkaoK6iTx8emIlajIGp_wstD0wxMsTvzQq02vF3U8pkj-GqL1fvJIvBWUK/s1600/DSC00366.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIuCrE5CTJ-BbI7LMuVvZpEOqpkdDIJCcI25FO_kVBJdpKCDnhcYIvC5azufrnkitKqHvnOU_1XfBaZpEo5AkaoK6iTx8emIlajIGp_wstD0wxMsTvzQq02vF3U8pkj-GqL1fvJIvBWUK/s400/DSC00366.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559199578608317442" border="0" /></a><br />I left for London on the evening of the 27th and hit the ground running again until the night of the 30th when I returned to Stansted Airport for a night curled up on a bed of chairs at the cafe in anticipation of my 6am flight. I didn't want to pay for another night at the hostel (and the prices were really high that night) for just a few hours of sleep. Apparently many people had this same idea as it was hard to find a spot to camp for the night.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6B8t3YZQFCbON09N1YpsrUj5Kkhpg4WNSUFf7rMe1-hv6ReBi5qXBKTgB5lXv3StOX_nD4d20l0VQ1xrON0NBsRWFCSI6PZQUfShgib3ZjJcxB74FAQNkG1P_r2wQQlDZthjr0zJoSA7D/s1600/DSC00480.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6B8t3YZQFCbON09N1YpsrUj5Kkhpg4WNSUFf7rMe1-hv6ReBi5qXBKTgB5lXv3StOX_nD4d20l0VQ1xrON0NBsRWFCSI6PZQUfShgib3ZjJcxB74FAQNkG1P_r2wQQlDZthjr0zJoSA7D/s400/DSC00480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559201672083400578" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIas4r-P35wc49B2eNrQoodYtb-z2AXsqfQZFpcJKpvkpBOxrzkus5eP7tSdwCytJQK_ErW2OVgnBydLlXxSGknVopQwdpXwx7z8KntD98q84bDy4viaUS4SzbKpDvRBo4w4cOLnpCw6be/s1600/DSC00627.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIas4r-P35wc49B2eNrQoodYtb-z2AXsqfQZFpcJKpvkpBOxrzkus5eP7tSdwCytJQK_ErW2OVgnBydLlXxSGknVopQwdpXwx7z8KntD98q84bDy4viaUS4SzbKpDvRBo4w4cOLnpCw6be/s400/DSC00627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559178681250111890" border="0" /></a><br />Having a break from speaking and thinking Italian has actually served me well. I studied only once on the bus back from Dorset, but other than that it was a full 10 day break. I think it has given the chance for information I've been trying to cram into my brain, to sink in. Upon landing in the Pisa airport at 10 am I turned the corner to the bus counter and immediately told the attendent 'Vorrei prendere l'autobus a Firenze' (I would like to take the bus to Florence) without having to stop and think! Yipee!! I even had an actual conversation with my landlady the other day. She doesn't speak any english and isn't so sensitive to the fact that it's hard to understand her when she talks A LOT and FAST. However I somehow understood her and was able to quikcly string together some sentences for her to understand me! (Please excuse me while I give myself a huge pat on the back here:D) I hope this feeling of ease continues.<br /><br />After the beautiful bus ride to Florence I decided to catch a city bus from the train station so I wouldn't have to walk the whole 15 minutes with my suitcases on the bumpy sidewalks. I tried to get a bus map but as usual there were none available, so I just lined up for the #6, the same one I had taken to the station 10 days prior. Bad idea. In a city with tiny one way streets, the bus can't take the same route going north as it does south. I missed the stop closest to my apartment (which was actually still very far) and then proceeded to sit on the bus all the way to the suburbs and back. The scenic route, I suppose. An hour later I arrived at my apartment, unpacked a bit, and napped.<br /><br />I spent the chilly New Year's Eve outside back at the piazza in front of the train station, watching a live concert and firecrackers going off unpredictably in every direction! It was crazy! There were no 'official' fireworks at midnight, just lots of unofficial ones all night long; with just slightly more at midnight...<br /><br />Unfortunately the next day I was in rough shape, head throbbing, lungs ejecting. The results of lack of sleep and too much firecracker smoke inhalation. I'm STILL coughing stuff up but almost recovered I think.<br /><br />I got a copy of my Wellness Daytimer printed in London (for 35 Pounds, OUCH!!) and I was so happy to see it 'in the paper' after designing it digitally for many weeks and trying to imagine how it will function in the real world. Although the printers didn't follow my wishes EXACTLY (borders, grr) and didn't consult me on paper choice (too slippery, I can't use pencil, grrr) and although the colors on the cover didn't print accurately (my fault), it's fabulous! I'm going to attempt a reprint here in Florence, fingers crossed!<br /><br />My friend has told me the italian saying of 'anno nuovo, vita nuova' or 'new year, new life'. Simple and inspiring. It's going to be a good year for sure:) Among getting some concrete work done, I hope to do more traveling, there really is a whole world of amazement out there!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENk-J3xUUN_xVgLH9Uu33f5jYq84Fc4LI0eOonhGfal5SY5nH5B8pubtcUmcdVdyKhmxrIE0-SLYq4Anvy0mvzqa0MhyphenhyphenKx_Vzj2yojSJ5if5FDiNfdVffjfTrMMV7sLvquP3_qL_SgV9v/s1600/DSC00658.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENk-J3xUUN_xVgLH9Uu33f5jYq84Fc4LI0eOonhGfal5SY5nH5B8pubtcUmcdVdyKhmxrIE0-SLYq4Anvy0mvzqa0MhyphenhyphenKx_Vzj2yojSJ5if5FDiNfdVffjfTrMMV7sLvquP3_qL_SgV9v/s400/DSC00658.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559175050746272978" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20g-BUys59YTRzr_tt3tQRX4-AZQ9q3VfiqzKSyMfGTN21_bZjzYkEzKcf1gFYU7mMNTLlLwsE-d87v6u7Oty4h_uVa5qqgsId-LPxvodg_R6EfHRJyGBfUcuX1sG56yMaZakP_3PwP5-/s1600/DSC00663.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20g-BUys59YTRzr_tt3tQRX4-AZQ9q3VfiqzKSyMfGTN21_bZjzYkEzKcf1gFYU7mMNTLlLwsE-d87v6u7Oty4h_uVa5qqgsId-LPxvodg_R6EfHRJyGBfUcuX1sG56yMaZakP_3PwP5-/s400/DSC00663.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559175049235934690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_LX2I1fWWfDXj1OESoy4ctAKYS804u3LVrAWa9DIgKsJmAgQJcOsttQX1-p59m8mO7sadnPkWoRtACW9c47Lp_MNvi8hchb6Q53MyqJa5dVoD4Yurk0HEAmmgQCdi7r9jjj5VKutX1PH/s1600/DSC00668.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_LX2I1fWWfDXj1OESoy4ctAKYS804u3LVrAWa9DIgKsJmAgQJcOsttQX1-p59m8mO7sadnPkWoRtACW9c47Lp_MNvi8hchb6Q53MyqJa5dVoD4Yurk0HEAmmgQCdi7r9jjj5VKutX1PH/s400/DSC00668.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559175040873429906" border="0" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-46176883907011854522010-12-15T02:00:00.000-08:002010-12-16T02:55:30.551-08:00Dicembre luce (December lights)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6PAL3K2-oIOX-rOZv7OFaFURZ1yMZJJ0NW7Oq4QD5Cus2PBqvNQQhD1GZn9F6z059-0envFfrUJVPR2gjAeZ0FPHRPqiY1SyAR5xDqX6L_ImCCMXZ5fIJyETS_BWOHseNnW7q9US2GuW/s1600/DSC00152.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6PAL3K2-oIOX-rOZv7OFaFURZ1yMZJJ0NW7Oq4QD5Cus2PBqvNQQhD1GZn9F6z059-0envFfrUJVPR2gjAeZ0FPHRPqiY1SyAR5xDqX6L_ImCCMXZ5fIJyETS_BWOHseNnW7q9US2GuW/s400/DSC00152.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551222181939050610" border="0" /></a>This is the florentine symbol:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQ1w6TQJ6_lhC5at2R5bNvJCekWTIT4w84kO1eOr_-2_2j7Yacrt5tKMm7L-D7aWz_7cWNC3VoeXyn7JrqQyljgGaTN25b0QGIAUHpVrRvCqKUq7cOvm8ejDPojZHS_ioQjpaa4rU_uyW/s1600/DSC00153.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcQ1w6TQJ6_lhC5at2R5bNvJCekWTIT4w84kO1eOr_-2_2j7Yacrt5tKMm7L-D7aWz_7cWNC3VoeXyn7JrqQyljgGaTN25b0QGIAUHpVrRvCqKUq7cOvm8ejDPojZHS_ioQjpaa4rU_uyW/s400/DSC00153.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551222184075765058" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilylAqoPLTjvUe0a8YTl7T5Cp4GvtZZwds2kiwX4ebOmJnVLfJ8ib-9MbvuNUvJ7pcLn1WaVMn1-GoBKuMERTPU1_2dRP8apV0p_PfQdSr-PGnBChJNzH4-VNw9zqptFhuLinpK-SGXXQs/s1600/DSC00142.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilylAqoPLTjvUe0a8YTl7T5Cp4GvtZZwds2kiwX4ebOmJnVLfJ8ib-9MbvuNUvJ7pcLn1WaVMn1-GoBKuMERTPU1_2dRP8apV0p_PfQdSr-PGnBChJNzH4-VNw9zqptFhuLinpK-SGXXQs/s400/DSC00142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551224596859019986" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsiPRAMqmNgbSqJlC0BLYOuAZ0jEHWQxwwRBJwHCsLoyHWBaxFh5d_nLzXHgKn0XyIGGkpLRmzxCaAvAhyFKAdNaxLAMSmbSGBbsxmfMWx_0xN3XZIxx1lYxX1jBhO227WVJ0H8owr57JL/s1600/DSC00130.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsiPRAMqmNgbSqJlC0BLYOuAZ0jEHWQxwwRBJwHCsLoyHWBaxFh5d_nLzXHgKn0XyIGGkpLRmzxCaAvAhyFKAdNaxLAMSmbSGBbsxmfMWx_0xN3XZIxx1lYxX1jBhO227WVJ0H8owr57JL/s400/DSC00130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551220649942831906" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQntFWbH51x4aE1zXtSs1F6mYcKOh9luEt9qipv6zOPt7GLx7GD1NpD1R6ecpv1hHeJ1p6pHpqghT4XbyTMqhyaqhD-Q2Pqf4AON_WYmIRgoKzgNA4Mnih9q6iQvr8syBZLiwrur1R9Hh/s1600/DSC00120.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQntFWbH51x4aE1zXtSs1F6mYcKOh9luEt9qipv6zOPt7GLx7GD1NpD1R6ecpv1hHeJ1p6pHpqghT4XbyTMqhyaqhD-Q2Pqf4AON_WYmIRgoKzgNA4Mnih9q6iQvr8syBZLiwrur1R9Hh/s400/DSC00120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551223198400889362" border="0" /></a><br />December has been a busy and bright month so far. The streets in Florence are decorated beautifully for Christmas (Natale) and light up at night. It definitely makes the cold evenings much more pleasant, although there was a period of a few days last week when it was incredibly warm, up to 18 degrees Celsius! I was shocked when I came out of my apartment on the first warm day, all bundled up for my walk to school.<br /><br />I've since finished my Level 2 Italian course with 94% on my final exam:) I've also started another, very affordable, and intense 3 1/2 hour lesson on Tuesdays, which for me is incredibly challenging. The students in this class speak and understand Italian SO well! It's a bit of a struggle for me to follow along but the teacher assured me that I belong in the class. Interestingly, although the other students are able to have full conversations at high speed with the teacher in italian ( I can't!) and understand a recording on the first listen (I can't!), when the teacher verbally dictates a passage and instructs us to write it, I make less mistakes than everyone! I guess this shows I understand the rules of grammar, the pronuciation rules, and most of the vocabulary, but the key for me right now is I understand SLOOWWWLY. She speaks slowly when dictating but when the recording is played at normal speed, I can only understand the general idea and not the details. However, I know this is tremendous progress for me and it's only a matter of time!<br /><br />It's interesting hearing all the accents of the various students when speaking italian. The spanish, the chinese, the german, the thai, the polish, the african, all add their native language spin to italian pronuciation! I didn't think I'd be able to hear the subtleties until having mastered it myself but it is really quite interesting. Of course then there's me with my english accent, the difficulty of rolling rrrr's and making the throaty sound with g + l put together! Thankfully my thursday night tutor, Valentina, helps me work on this:)<br /><br />Last week I was invited to accompany my friend, Shri, a woman I met at the raw food weekend in Montespertoli, and her 4 year old son to the opening of a furniture store. The store is in such an amazing space with a series of old rooms and big courtyard. Also there's a room in the back packed with shelves of old wallpaper! I would've loved the chance to peek through them all, roll by roll, the patterns are so amazing! The opening doubled as a great christmas party, there was an abundance of food including mandarins and fresh roasted chestnuts, and live music from the owner's teenage nephew's band, so cute!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxBtuXHVp6smJ6IhoLuk29LOcbvq6557-P77Ig5jxpYiPnbVXY4NHJztdBFhbefsNEuBjmErWlEs-mn6H5xuQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />Shri also took me to the book launch of her italian friend who is a children's book illustrator. I exchanged information with the woman with the intention of arranging a language exchange and also, fingers crossed, to foto take me to the Bologna Children's Book Fair with her in March! This would be amazing as I have interest in also doing illustration for children's books and possibly she could help me make some connections, we shall see! As if Shri hasn't done enough by introducing me to her friend, she has also left her bicycle in my care until she returns next summer and gave me a big bundle of her delicious raw crackers, so generous! I went for my first bicycle ride in Florence on monday night, to the cinema to watch the new Woody Allen film. It felt great, although bumpy with the cobblestone potholes and a little chaotic with the narrow one way streets and crazy drivers, it's such a liberating feeling viewing the world from a bicycle:)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJNgLm6FT4Xsg8upTls1e4SwFIuKXSCUVRWqseLot2-TwyWt8CsHaVX4moZQuS3F3YCnSKR3MQtOljX4M2-1M_aXqdNKc3BHTIFsuZVA-J6XvcpGNDeaCp3iGIaCNnAk7BfaW6BWGV2Pv/s1600/DSC00156.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJNgLm6FT4Xsg8upTls1e4SwFIuKXSCUVRWqseLot2-TwyWt8CsHaVX4moZQuS3F3YCnSKR3MQtOljX4M2-1M_aXqdNKc3BHTIFsuZVA-J6XvcpGNDeaCp3iGIaCNnAk7BfaW6BWGV2Pv/s400/DSC00156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551222190328827778" border="0" /></a>On the weekend I was invited to my cousin Martinho's for dinner where I got to taste his perfected indian dahl. His indian roomate has now entitled him with a black belt in indian cooking after many months of training. I can verify this title is well deserved, it was realllllly good! Us guests also recieved training in how to eat in the proper indian manner, sans untentils! It was strange at first to be scooping up hot rice and dahl (a lentil stew) with your hands, but once I got the hang of it I might say I even prefer this method of eating! You add the sense of touch to the enjoyment of a meal, a whole other level of connecting to food. I might try this on my own more often, I think the key is to just keep a napkin handy;)<br /><br />So we're on the countdown until Christmas, and I'm on a countdown of one week until I leave for England! My roomate, Rosie, and her family are so generous in inviting me to their beautiful home in Dorset to spend the holiday with them. I'm so appreciative of the opportunity as it will be my first Christmas ever away from my family:_( and also my first time in England. I will also have the chance to explore London for a few days before returning to Florence on new years eve.<br /><br />I've been spending most of my free time over the past couple weeks, and hence neglecting my blog posts, working on a Wellness Daytimer for 2011, a collaboration with my friend Katie. We were initially intending to test it out for ourselves this year but it's looking so good that we're going to make the pdf available online for people to print and assemble themselves. This is our <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#%21/pages/Days-by-Kate/108218735890524?v=wall">facebook page</a> and <a href="http://www.wellnessdaytimer.com/">wellnessdaytimer.com</a> will soon be up and running!<br /><br />Also this week I'm sitting for a portrait for Rosie and her drawing partner at their art school. It's looking great so far and Rosie has told me I'm the most still model she's ever had!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd53sGt9N-O0JY7xOhfVr4YpEJ8UWkZ4pSeJlOxD7icu5VCCikFVP2waKeBUIyqSxxOnOfTt_ixnQuIc3zEQKHBm1CGlYs6FkL3RVJxbIA7EV-poSdvF7smqaof96wMNPp50M3s3YtInLc/s1600/DSC00157.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd53sGt9N-O0JY7xOhfVr4YpEJ8UWkZ4pSeJlOxD7icu5VCCikFVP2waKeBUIyqSxxOnOfTt_ixnQuIc3zEQKHBm1CGlYs6FkL3RVJxbIA7EV-poSdvF7smqaof96wMNPp50M3s3YtInLc/s400/DSC00157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551222195255603618" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0MROFuZUsYsIIJycUqPE93rDoXotgqoWnxFsaOVxDAuesbyKeYKPpGfKAUIxwIA06D9MUkAVyPKBNgOp4qJytKfVJOOdhjKogOEg6BZODfmFznBtoarBPuX5eMFT9bbRrmFdcIusS2Cr/s1600/DSC00164.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR0MROFuZUsYsIIJycUqPE93rDoXotgqoWnxFsaOVxDAuesbyKeYKPpGfKAUIxwIA06D9MUkAVyPKBNgOp4qJytKfVJOOdhjKogOEg6BZODfmFznBtoarBPuX5eMFT9bbRrmFdcIusS2Cr/s400/DSC00164.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551223653058234482" border="0" /></a>In other news I'm waiting for package #2 which Firas sent almost a month ago now. It's stuff that I had to abandon at the airport when my luggage was overweight, like my Nana's black boots! I really need them now, they're so warm! The only information available on Canada Post tracking is ' the package is on hold at the postal facitlity (in italy) to verify the address of the recipient'. Firas and I have both called into Canada Post with little use. I'm just hoping it arrives before I leave for england. Also, I've found out the motor of my poor blender has been fried due to incompatible voltage here:( I wish I had known it wasn't compatible before ordering a new 40$ attachment to replace the one confiscated by airport security, however there's still a chance it can be fixed, I'm not giving up on it yet!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzvnwwrK-JMK3rwEPqyzW-C_c8uCVw5-A4rs9Y8a6_98Ojn5XFyXqtAqRQzp2B7J5vBVTNDZ3KGBmarJpz04wFGeWLXhIu2qKW94PQHrImfPR80aMT22s7yxg-58q3HfBToPRtqMZ0xsA6/s1600/DSC00143.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzvnwwrK-JMK3rwEPqyzW-C_c8uCVw5-A4rs9Y8a6_98Ojn5XFyXqtAqRQzp2B7J5vBVTNDZ3KGBmarJpz04wFGeWLXhIu2qKW94PQHrImfPR80aMT22s7yxg-58q3HfBToPRtqMZ0xsA6/s400/DSC00143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551222175987945938" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYXvp-rqh8Opq8WEhDThe-Tg06k2XNkEZPOqmn33Ra1a3wgG90m8-XDjP5g3-CqkaNy6o56STbelGe6G7zOFNcnM8XlPlKOAg-2ZI54raW7xHWqWj0FAZtEYROXd8f8-yh77p910KANEd/s1600/DSC00127.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYXvp-rqh8Opq8WEhDThe-Tg06k2XNkEZPOqmn33Ra1a3wgG90m8-XDjP5g3-CqkaNy6o56STbelGe6G7zOFNcnM8XlPlKOAg-2ZI54raW7xHWqWj0FAZtEYROXd8f8-yh77p910KANEd/s400/DSC00127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551220645337742562" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIpuz0yHI5S9vBc8ZMTw-an1Of-y5xxc-zFBYI8sn1azAowSkGjMe49jszxZRpXZ3PiNcCOG1YFDprhgCQGDrLeyfu00a2-eO1m4UtIzo98eatzdBK29R5vKBHBncl0pF2LCtpIT6mznj-/s1600/DSC00125.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIpuz0yHI5S9vBc8ZMTw-an1Of-y5xxc-zFBYI8sn1azAowSkGjMe49jszxZRpXZ3PiNcCOG1YFDprhgCQGDrLeyfu00a2-eO1m4UtIzo98eatzdBK29R5vKBHBncl0pF2LCtpIT6mznj-/s400/DSC00125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551220641118090210" border="0" /></a>A candid photo of this amazingly old and fashionable couple having an argument!jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-67865779067901942552010-11-28T07:16:00.000-08:002010-11-28T09:32:53.920-08:00Past perfect progress<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oTxtwwuUyn8aBBSg53BqdtojghytortZHWlsJpRXCLivND8jtRoHzZ9olg7ovqk83oiuZBT0txFTxQQDG0JK1nUtbsuI3mg2y0yHLicnNppPFXEFxlOSA3Mhtdhk1f4aFXDsvEo_gF1h/s1600/DSC00110.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oTxtwwuUyn8aBBSg53BqdtojghytortZHWlsJpRXCLivND8jtRoHzZ9olg7ovqk83oiuZBT0txFTxQQDG0JK1nUtbsuI3mg2y0yHLicnNppPFXEFxlOSA3Mhtdhk1f4aFXDsvEo_gF1h/s400/DSC00110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544638862728212514" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6112lQn66RZUvC7d4W7ysAMU3R6oYaj7RKt-37LpgMPFT0nEO86esRfbZ4ojuFVl87cwoWNC9FAPG4JsMZiNVyQmvkWXlArnC_mwo7xRq847vGAMtf_EdFeGO2UGuSUupXKQWwDcmMjo/s1600/DSC00098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6112lQn66RZUvC7d4W7ysAMU3R6oYaj7RKt-37LpgMPFT0nEO86esRfbZ4ojuFVl87cwoWNC9FAPG4JsMZiNVyQmvkWXlArnC_mwo7xRq847vGAMtf_EdFeGO2UGuSUupXKQWwDcmMjo/s400/DSC00098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544638864689518642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I've completed 3 weeks of italian school already and am making good progress. I'm getting more comfortable using the 'past perfect' tense and even won the game we played at school:) An example of this tense in english is to say 'I have learned lots at school'. The word 'have' (in the present tense) is followed by the main verb in past tense (called the past participle). In italian this sentence is 'Ho imparato tanto alla scuola'. This is big progress for me to venture out of the realm of the present tense. I'm eagerly looking ahead in anticipation of the future (tense)!<br /><br />The other day I returned to the tailor (la sartoria) to pickup my jeans and the lady complimented me on my italian. She said 'parli meglio' (you speak better)! I even asked her in italian if I could use her washroom... using a complete sentence! Posso usare la toiletta? (can i use the toilet?). I don't know if this verb 'usare' (to use) is actually the correct one for this context but it worked.<br /><br />There are many inconsistencies in verb choices between italian and english. An example, in english we say ' i would like to have a coffee', but in italian they say ' i would like to TAKE a coffee' (vorrei prendere un caffe`). We actually use this for 'taking' medicine but not for 'having' a beverage, although I suppose in the incidence of coffee it could be considered more of a drug. Another example is in english we say 'I'm cold' but in italian you say 'I have cold' (Ho freddo) and the same goes for 'I'm hungry', in italian 'I have hunger' (Ho fame). So maybe instead of 'use' the toilet, they will say 'visit' the toilet or 'meet' the toilet, I don't know but another one of those things I will learn in time.<br /><br />I have been translating songs with my italian tutor, Valentina, and I'm currently working on a really challenging one, a famous italian song called 'Come Mai'. I had always wished that foreign films were translated literally so that you could understand how the people actually communicate but now I understand why they're not: because if they were in fact translated literally word for word it probably wouldn't make any sense! After speaking only english my whole life it's a huge realization that there are many different ways to relay information using words. It's not just the vocabulary that's different. While my english brain is so comfortable peicing information together in certain ways, the 'brains' of other cultures may work very differently. I really feel like a detective trying to understand many of the sentences in this song, finding one grammar clue that leads to the next to the next. There are also many verb tenses in this song that I'm not yet familiar with, but it's good to have the exposure and start developing an awareness which will one day (hopefully!) progress into an understanding.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqDHcW0uDi5o3KpMv0z3tWdEPoYXriOpH5tk0kUI7csWjVBNbOxv7T-ALvWqesJpaNMcZfzkre55WVfWMMaMCZmFs8zf9F9_MEXjhu9dI1C32eRgH1cVMd0EAg4AXDu09UWAp10A6uiX3b/s1600/DSC00099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqDHcW0uDi5o3KpMv0z3tWdEPoYXriOpH5tk0kUI7csWjVBNbOxv7T-ALvWqesJpaNMcZfzkre55WVfWMMaMCZmFs8zf9F9_MEXjhu9dI1C32eRgH1cVMd0EAg4AXDu09UWAp10A6uiX3b/s400/DSC00099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544638868947137122" border="0" /></a>I was so happy to try out my blender after recieving the blender attachment in the package from my family last weekend. I had assembled the ingredients to make my beloved green smoothie (fruit + greens) on monday morning and was dreaming of all the yummy combinations I would be making in the days to follow. I plugged it in, pushed the button, and then... the lights went out. Rosie and I proceed to live the next 2 days without power (this is the second time we've had a blackout!) and I ate my apples and spinach as a salad instead of smoothie. In the dark.<br /><br />Our landlady, Antonella, finally came to our rescue and located the appopriate breaker box (we didn't know where it was, there's like 3 different ones...). However I haven't attempted to use the blender again because I think it may be incompatible voltage or something? Although our power is operating again, the outlet I used the blender in is still dead. I will take it to the electrical appliances store to see if they know. Also the heating in half of our apartment (not my room, thank god!) is gliched. Although it's programmed to turn on at certain intervals during the day, everytime it shuts off, it doesn't turn back on. Now Antonella has given Rosie the instructions to turn on the boiler in the storage room below everytime this happens, but for a few weeks of and on we were without heat and hot water in the kitchen and Rosie's room.<br /><br />It has really cooled off this week, you can see your breath in the air, and it is an incredibly WET(rainy and humid) cold. I was lucky enough to catch the sun a few times, including one day after class, and I found my favorite spot on Ponte Santa Trinita to soak it up. The pics below are from a church I popped into on my way to the tailor's when I saw a sign that said 'free entrance'. Inside was Ghirlandaio's 'Last Supper' fresco painting along with some modern animal sculptures. My favorite was the giraffe on stilts:) The painting is interesting in part because it was painted to match the perspective of the rounded ceiling. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NDLmbB4P36u4aN39Wid0aFVgRR72WQcXeuFOfR18MdVLUavSAq19SCC3hemcIqjlzVv5hkEER31Niqifhq-P_H3XIMpXaLTCJieqXQkT3zuAaVhPwYv4egADocagPBt8OXFEm5ChbZyL/s1600/DSC00108.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NDLmbB4P36u4aN39Wid0aFVgRR72WQcXeuFOfR18MdVLUavSAq19SCC3hemcIqjlzVv5hkEER31Niqifhq-P_H3XIMpXaLTCJieqXQkT3zuAaVhPwYv4egADocagPBt8OXFEm5ChbZyL/s400/DSC00108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544638878464861074" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3b4qDKsyOp_18uXAf2sh6DSXtWClly75uyFMLj_-RtlvHe31VUnf1KSIm9hg0nLKKtKGcVtMeeSOk_uxol1d8D8vFvlLQZKCHfzOMZ83O4qTnEgmeQc2HiH7IYtOP81io6AWeuAiGKC0q/s1600/DSC00106.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3b4qDKsyOp_18uXAf2sh6DSXtWClly75uyFMLj_-RtlvHe31VUnf1KSIm9hg0nLKKtKGcVtMeeSOk_uxol1d8D8vFvlLQZKCHfzOMZ83O4qTnEgmeQc2HiH7IYtOP81io6AWeuAiGKC0q/s400/DSC00106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544640320118567410" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd9NQXmVpNwyCvczTFBhSAIZf-pGQ8U1p-GfGpMPFvVG90cQcSAZoWM_vAHVYzKAG70JOSFlNvSnlfJr-48BAqRL3MSRD1XwX6t3617xf-YxoEnrWlqVA1ov2n5GkEbbKzD-whBg8SkdZW/s1600/DSC00101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd9NQXmVpNwyCvczTFBhSAIZf-pGQ8U1p-GfGpMPFvVG90cQcSAZoWM_vAHVYzKAG70JOSFlNvSnlfJr-48BAqRL3MSRD1XwX6t3617xf-YxoEnrWlqVA1ov2n5GkEbbKzD-whBg8SkdZW/s400/DSC00101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544640316082974194" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVW2zgVwnupPmWaUwKjv_F_tO-kPGKSTuONSXPatV6WKMe2ReJ8yPK5iRalF3W8FZdZhYAlz-G3KE0LLZmyUyaIF35zcQ7VATKwjxMW3KQE7l-2GoZZPeh20oczOOkGj6Z2kWylIwgce0/s1600/DSC00104.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVW2zgVwnupPmWaUwKjv_F_tO-kPGKSTuONSXPatV6WKMe2ReJ8yPK5iRalF3W8FZdZhYAlz-G3KE0LLZmyUyaIF35zcQ7VATKwjxMW3KQE7l-2GoZZPeh20oczOOkGj6Z2kWylIwgce0/s400/DSC00104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544640627975602386" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxEEsAwJEQVKddVCIZABKBUfgNNZRyd6GHsPWHhKQ5NgYAuGDrQaDjYDEvH-Ira0Y1ag8t9yfOLoSODXh5G4gxyHQywmm6wawfcT-yz8Oslx6J8X0P2YmjUrt7KWRwOyHQPq4lkLYuxoSv/s1600/DSC00105.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxEEsAwJEQVKddVCIZABKBUfgNNZRyd6GHsPWHhKQ5NgYAuGDrQaDjYDEvH-Ira0Y1ag8t9yfOLoSODXh5G4gxyHQywmm6wawfcT-yz8Oslx6J8X0P2YmjUrt7KWRwOyHQPq4lkLYuxoSv/s400/DSC00105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544640337103052466" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-c6xUOj0BhgMuWzhnPhYjkIBmaXn_lir9D9iIPgYYsRdPqrFB841wJvxTzv6jR25Ya70hdAqRvBuGBcmx5TtTTJyAX8CEK_QikMToFSMy_G13vmddqLLkPzkOTEXOpoPNS8zOTxFyt9ue/s1600/DSC00109.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-c6xUOj0BhgMuWzhnPhYjkIBmaXn_lir9D9iIPgYYsRdPqrFB841wJvxTzv6jR25Ya70hdAqRvBuGBcmx5TtTTJyAX8CEK_QikMToFSMy_G13vmddqLLkPzkOTEXOpoPNS8zOTxFyt9ue/s400/DSC00109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544640310110825778" border="0" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-33765224700779025812010-11-21T08:55:00.000-08:002010-11-21T13:33:14.701-08:00Poste Italiane<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbalE8rsvvI_8jT13wll4yY2xomy9rslbo6GPm36Z_j6c_hWR4XMK3n1Vm4YPQXwAHrNATuNv_1zfVeKG4jQIBUbpzewrrMRHl8T235RVU19-WLK8_d2AkV3dC_8Lqg3oDfqXRhNYyyUA/s1600/DSC00087.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbalE8rsvvI_8jT13wll4yY2xomy9rslbo6GPm36Z_j6c_hWR4XMK3n1Vm4YPQXwAHrNATuNv_1zfVeKG4jQIBUbpzewrrMRHl8T235RVU19-WLK8_d2AkV3dC_8Lqg3oDfqXRhNYyyUA/s400/DSC00087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542116836320729938" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Y-vsO_1w7dJ1L5xNPLn-PYAK9UtJnp_65jVI5fijeAYsg0g5AVnNI3wrg-hwg4bX4pRKwd_NQOEpgUorSopuR1tj8x3wHvmSGLZI-DzRcKbvyt8kuKaf9lqaa6RAPpa9HpZRUoRhawQ2/s1600/DSC00088.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Y-vsO_1w7dJ1L5xNPLn-PYAK9UtJnp_65jVI5fijeAYsg0g5AVnNI3wrg-hwg4bX4pRKwd_NQOEpgUorSopuR1tj8x3wHvmSGLZI-DzRcKbvyt8kuKaf9lqaa6RAPpa9HpZRUoRhawQ2/s400/DSC00088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542116845573176690" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">(These pics above are from a parking lot I cut through on route to the movie theatre one evening and a hidden piazza I found nearby)<br /><br /><br />Thursday morning on my way out to italian class, I noticed a yellow 'Poste Italiane' sticker stuck to the mailbox with my name on it. Yipee, the package that my family sent had arrived! Sweaters, extra socks, my heels, my blender attachment, all those things I've been missing. I tucked the sticker in my bag and when I got home from school later in the afternoon I translated it. It said they would attempt delivery a second time or to call the number listed and make arrangements to pick it up. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">There is unfortunately no door bell (campanello) for our apartment</span> as we're tucked away at the back of the 3rd floor, which we access through an old servant's stairwell, so even though I was home I wasn't able to recieve the package. Knowing that I couldn't quite pull off a detailed converstation in italian on the phone (I'd much rather attempt this sort of thing in person where you can use body language and read facial expressions) I let the day pass by. Fridays I have off from school but had plans to meet for a language exchange in the afternoon with a tourist guide I met visiting Palazzo Medici Riccardi last week. On my way out another yellow sticker on the mailbox caught my eye, I had missed delivery attempt number 2... Luckily I would be able to ask the guy I was meeting with, Marco, how the italian postal system works.<br /><br />When we sat down at the book store caffe`and I explained the situation to him, he looked a bit worried and said I really should've been waiting downstairs for the package. Both delivery attempts had been at 2pm (14:00) but I told him that I wouldn't have guessed they'd come at consistent times. I asked if he could 'help' me call the number on the sticker and find out where I could pick it up, but quickly handed over the phone as I couldn't understand even the initial recording. He proceeded to have at least a 5 minute converstaion with the woman on the other end, back and forth, just to get the address and details of the depot where my package was. He was a bit irritated by the time he hung up. This is one of those things that I was telling you about, he said. In Canada is very easy, but here, is difficult.<br /><br />No worries, I said, I'll just go pick it up, where is this place? looking at the notes he'd scrawled on my notebook. He proceeded to explain that it was in a suburb of Florence, 20 kms from the centre, and the depot didn't have a street number. Okayyy, I'm sure I can figure it out, I said. He seemed a bit unsure and said he could help me but not until mercoledi`(wednesday) as he was busy until then. I told him that's fine, I would try to find it myself the next day, Saturday, as the depot was open from 9-12 as he'd written on my notebook. He said good luck rather skeptically and we continued with the language exchange. I'm helping him finetune his english so he can pass his tour guide certification exam with flying colors and he's helping me with italian so I can make a comprehensive sentence:)<br /><br />That evening I spent a few hours online, plotting out the bus route to get to Campi Bisenzio (the town name), Viale Salvador Allende (the street name). It wasn't a very long street on the map so I figured my chances were good that I would be able to find this depot even though there was no street number. At 9:30 in the november rain, I got on the #30 bus from Santa Maria Novella Stazione (the main train station in Florence). As they were out of bus maps at the station, I kept my eye on the stop names so I'd know when to get off. About a half an hour later, we reached my stop, Orly. I got off the bus and followed along the road until I reached the traffic circle where Viale Salvador Attende began. Patting myself on the back for smooth navigating and thinking I'd accomplished this supposed difficult feat, I turned the corner. But then....... niente (nothing).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmt0OjYbcC14Jf5K2BbcAoa3Dmns6OYhkyT9o7_PD8Uq2oVGXJi2rNdiSY6OLC5wUNRZxePrQ8OSGbVCJKSrpzEjcGpIN6ibyfIfF4UPhUOsTCN74VS2f-g6IssOLexzhlMj_-9P743D-/s1600/DSC00093.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmt0OjYbcC14Jf5K2BbcAoa3Dmns6OYhkyT9o7_PD8Uq2oVGXJi2rNdiSY6OLC5wUNRZxePrQ8OSGbVCJKSrpzEjcGpIN6ibyfIfF4UPhUOsTCN74VS2f-g6IssOLexzhlMj_-9P743D-/s400/DSC00093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542116850295965586" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgZ_AgqQ77mpLWir6eKoxyiy_4RHxrIKewpSjIrqUbhgOgqKihU7zO2bml1P_382LxIaxJVw29Fmhc1LH_koItuZON-DKTCD6uB5i-n9-ddrlfFmWInF3wQwp3JALpMFPflLLTV0hofi5/s1600/DSC00092.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgZ_AgqQ77mpLWir6eKoxyiy_4RHxrIKewpSjIrqUbhgOgqKihU7zO2bml1P_382LxIaxJVw29Fmhc1LH_koItuZON-DKTCD6uB5i-n9-ddrlfFmWInF3wQwp3JALpMFPflLLTV0hofi5/s400/DSC00092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542116860686619682" border="0" /></a><br />No buildings, other than a little house on my right with chickens running around, no people. Just street and cars. Uh oh. Knowing that it had to be somewhere on this road, and remembering that the road on the map wasn't that long, I continued walking. The rain continued also. As this wasn't exactly a pedestrian road, it wasn't long before a car pulled up and a guy asked me if I wanted a ride. I explained that I was looking for the address on my paper. He spoke some English and pointed to where he thought it was, a total different direction, but I showed him that we were on the road of the address. He advised me to walk back into town and ask someone there. I thanked him and proceeded to follow this advice.<br /><br />I walked back into town and found a little bar/caffe` with some weekend customers lounging about. I went inside and showed the barista my paper, asking 'Sa dov'e` questo?' (You know where it is?). I showed her my yellow post italian stickers and tried to explain that I needed to go there to pick up my package. Although I couldn't remember how to say package in italian...eventually she understood. Meanwhile the old men in the bar had flocked around to observe, and my notebook with the address was passed around as they discussed amongst themselves. The barista then turned to me and offered in italian that she could take me. Thrilled at this offer but not wanting to inconvenience her I said 'si, se e` possibile per te ma forse prendo un taxi?' (Yes, if it possible for you but perhaps I take a taxi?). She said no, she'd take me (I don't think there are really taxi's readily available in this area anyway).<br /><br />Before I knew it I was in this cute late 30's(?) italian woman's macchina (car) and we were back on the road I had attemped to walk down earlier. I made conversation with her and asked 'abiti qui?' (you live here?). She said no that she lived in anther town nearby. Earlier in the drive she pointed to an area and said she had thought it was there, but the man in the bar said it was somewhere else. We ended up in a big wearhouse parking lot where semi-trucks dock, but no sign of any SDA- the name of the courier depot. We got out of the car and peeked into one of the warehouses where there were a few men doing labour. Coincidentally she knew the men, and we showed them the paper with the address. Meanwhile another man came in and was asking them questions too. The lady made a joke that they were an information service. We departed with a suggestion from the men on where to go (although to be honest I understood little of their conversation apart from the joke).<br /><br />We ended up at another spot very similar, just down the road, and repeated this process. Getting out of the car, in the rain, peeking in a warehouse, calling out 'mi scusi?' (excuse me?) and waiting for someone to come into sight. They gave the lady more directions and we basically ended up back at the first place. Across the street I spotted a truck with 'SDA' written on it, and we drove over, thinking we'd found the place, but no, it was just a single truck. The situation wasn't looking too promising. She asked another man in a car for directions but he didn't really seem to know and led us back across the street. We drove through the parking lot and saw some men fixing their vehicle, so the lady asked THEM for directions. This guy actually seemed to KNOW and we ended up back on the main road and drove some distance back towards the town.<br /><br />Sure enough, an SDA sign came into sight and we pulled into the area that the lady had initially indicated were SHE thought it would be. I reminded her 'Pensi e`qui prima' (you think it was here before) and she said si!(yes!) and we laughed about the men giving directions. I got in line and the lady chatted with some other people standing in line that she knew, explaining that she was accompanying this 'ragazza' (girl). Funny enough, the guy who came into the first warehouse to ask questions to the men we were also questioning (when the lady joked about them being an information service), was also in line! I guess he had found the place only slightly faster than us.<br /><br />Finally it was my turn and the man brought out my box (horaay!!!) that had been in my mom and sister Laura's hands only a number of days prior. I told the lady 'e` da mia famiglia' (it's from my family) and happily paid 10 Euros cash on delivery. On the way back to the car I explained how happy I was using my sophisticated italian vocabulary 'sono felice!' (I'm happy!), and expressed my gratitude to the extent of my abilities 'grazie mille mille mille!' (a thousand thank yous- but usually you just say one 'mille'). When asked, I explained that I'd catch the bus back to Florence at the stop near the bar.<br /><br />I'm not sure how long this whole thing took, maybe 30-40 mins?? I asked the lady 'come posso ti pagare?' (how i can pay you?) but she insisted 'noooo, di neinte, di neinte' (no, it's of nothing, it's of nothing). I asked her name 'come ti chiami?' and she relied 'Annalisa' and asked what was mine. I told her 'Jenni', holding the double 'nnnn' sound in proper italian pronounciation. She proclaimed 'un bello nome!' (a nice/beautiful name) and I was reminded that my name is actually a masculine noun in italian because it ends with 'i'. As such she used 'bello' ('o' is also a masculine ending) to describe it rather than 'bella' (the feminine version). Interessante (interesting)...<br /><br />I bid her goodbye with another rain of appreciation 'grazie mille mille mille!!' and 'buona giornata!' (have a good day!). I walked back to the bus stop (it was still raining), so relieved and amazed that things had actually worked out! As Marco had warned me, it was in fact a difficult task, even for the locals. I really thought he was exaggerating!<br /><br />(waiting at the bus stop)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8mRFCIudYfOh7YGrAAhIv4QqbSck5QANrsJ79rbzb3pXynSXyjW5WLa5OlBRjUkZ8BjrSG50VWVsrlfgJuRHVWf0fvT8Q38LSWQf-nfrpqcRvfctgQnSNA8wN2R8mhxKWhT6Fv0qBg2p/s1600/DSC00094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8mRFCIudYfOh7YGrAAhIv4QqbSck5QANrsJ79rbzb3pXynSXyjW5WLa5OlBRjUkZ8BjrSG50VWVsrlfgJuRHVWf0fvT8Q38LSWQf-nfrpqcRvfctgQnSNA8wN2R8mhxKWhT6Fv0qBg2p/s400/DSC00094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542117862968507746" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQGVB0TX6-V4DROFLOPAojnkSPtDLv4mTcy4e1SkF9VIlau-f9nnS_efi9q3L2B4hDfssXHW3Y_69BfUf8P08CWHVIt4sSxoVpf90eVTCcEqktKQDOW_Ldt-YoJa_C1HHIGpegaNkoLB0/s1600/DSC00096.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQGVB0TX6-V4DROFLOPAojnkSPtDLv4mTcy4e1SkF9VIlau-f9nnS_efi9q3L2B4hDfssXHW3Y_69BfUf8P08CWHVIt4sSxoVpf90eVTCcEqktKQDOW_Ldt-YoJa_C1HHIGpegaNkoLB0/s400/DSC00096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542117877499278450" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Once I got back to my apartment in Florence I tore into the box and found my beloveds (sweaters, socks, heels, blender attachment) as well as a late birthday present from my sisters, a beautiful handmade sketchbook/journal, and an early Christmas present from my big sis Laura, a set of fleece PJ's:) I slept warm last night. In italian, ho dormito caldo ieri sera. (yay, past tense!)<br /><br />I think I'm going to make Annalisa a thank you card and mail it to her at the bar's address. Cause really, that was REALLY (x mille mille mille) nice!jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-63024207103389659642010-11-14T10:50:00.000-08:002010-11-21T13:39:11.702-08:0024 ore pioggia (24 hour rain)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxDX6SnMpeolbtLEc0xA15UATc7ste_UFeZR_WaiG-afViYIkSs7aGFmnsMvHY9NO-85bMfwLpqRQMllOqshCPdEb81W5SPdzTRl7P1-aIdPEH3hyphenhyphenxaWXSmVaPmfY1huBi3rU2Eo-RnwL/s1600/DSC00031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxDX6SnMpeolbtLEc0xA15UATc7ste_UFeZR_WaiG-afViYIkSs7aGFmnsMvHY9NO-85bMfwLpqRQMllOqshCPdEb81W5SPdzTRl7P1-aIdPEH3hyphenhyphenxaWXSmVaPmfY1huBi3rU2Eo-RnwL/s400/DSC00031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539524014537328274" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhijOT3F9efUMZ3pspYafjv4ML6qNeP5ap0WAiSDW_nsZlSmAbYESa8Qy1stFfj_CRxAaaoFYnW6KhTWQqqdnjwjbiqagC73UWIBROPgdSsc7k4qxGdTNfhoO43n-zO1eCjKPOEChzpc9V/s1600/DSC00035.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhijOT3F9efUMZ3pspYafjv4ML6qNeP5ap0WAiSDW_nsZlSmAbYESa8Qy1stFfj_CRxAaaoFYnW6KhTWQqqdnjwjbiqagC73UWIBROPgdSsc7k4qxGdTNfhoO43n-zO1eCjKPOEChzpc9V/s400/DSC00035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539524007250291938" border="0" /></a><br />It's been a wet week! Apparently common for November and December weather in Florence. After lots of sun last week, I believe it rained EVERYDAY this week. I've been rotating my footwear strategically in order to give each time to dry before wearing them again. Thankfully, the heat in my room is on! Whoop whoop! However, there has been a problem with the heat in the other side of the apartment, the kitchen and Rosie's room, it's not working, including no hot water in the kitchen. The landlady keeps coming in to fix it but the next day it stops working again...<br /><br />An adjustment aside from just the language here (as if that's not hard enough), is the usage of the 24 hour clock. Us 'am/pm' people need to be minusing 12 from all the given times here to figure things out. I often do this erroneously and when I don't, I'm doubting myself. I'm going to try to change my thinking from minusing 12 to counting on my fingers up from 12 noon. Hopefully in doing this, those 13:00+ numbers will start having meaning on their own, without calculations.<br /><br />Monday morning at 9:00 I showed up for my Italian class and right away the students were given a written test followed by a conversation with the teacher to determine which level each person belonged in. I was proud to achieve level 2 status:) On Tuesday I met my fellow level 2 classmates, a multicultural group of adults and some teenage boys. It was a full classroom of around 20 people. The teacher, Mani`, started us off making our own introductions and taking questions (all in italian) from each other. Then we started the learning activities, involving listening to phone calls and completing Vero o Falso (True or False) questions. Wednesday was more similar learning activities and at the end of class, Mani` announced that there was only 5 people in the level 2 class at 11:00 and asked if anyone wanted to switch. I volunteered as a smaller class size seemed better for learning and plus, despite my initial choice of the 9am class, I do like to have a little extra time in the mornings:)<br /><br />So Thursday at 11:00 I met my new level 2 classmates and Edouardo, a substitute teacher for Gloria, the regular teacher for the class. Edouardo's technique was a bit unconventional to say the least, however very entertaining. He introduced himself briefly and then patiently waited for us to ask him personal questions in Italian. Then he would respond, speaking really slowly and clearly and emphasizing certain words. He added many jokes as well, mostly sexist! When asked if he had girl or boy children, he pointed to the bags under his eyes and made chattering puppets with his hands....he had 2 girls.<br /><br />Interestingly, his answers led into the activity in the workbook almost unknowingly, although he, no doubt, had planned it that way. The activity involved filling in a little chart of things you do in different places, eg. a casa (at home), nel tempo libero (in free time)and con gli amici (with friends), according to frequency, eg. sempre (always), raramente (rarely), qualche volta (sometimes)and mai (never). These words Edouardo had emphasized and used often during his Q and A session. There's no class on Fridays so I'm looking forward to meeting the regular teacher, Gloria, tomorrow, although part of me wishes Edouardo was sticking around.<br /><br />I'm also happy to report that I got a bank account setup this week! The ladies at Banca Toscana beside the Ponte Vecchio were very helpful and explained everything in english for me. Thankfully I didn't need to have official residency in Florence or a Codice Fiscale (the equivalent of the Canadian SIN number, I suppose)to get the bank account, my Italian Passport was sufficient. It's a relief as I'm having some difficulty getting these 2 important things arranged, residency and the codice fiscale, which will allow me to work and to have health care, but at least now I don't need to worry about my dwindling traveller's cheques.<br /><br />In my efforts to stay on budget, I picked up a coupon from the tourist office for free admission to a couple of museums in Florence. It was expiring this week, so one afternoon I ventured over to the Palazzo Medici Riccardi, one of the many old palaces owned by the rich people in Florence's history. I'm glad it was free, it wasn't super exciting, but I liked the garden:)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoet2nq9MIjAttNCmCAAF1Xl1eMH-taAMaqloRnK-ymgEi26ph2nBFVmKkOdFDccih8stJZ9j04pb_o90v6OXJ26gBseGbILYOoFT1Nze7JIy5jHxxGdXV-8_CQh7UEaklrL9XWrIzpW43/s1600/DSC00044.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoet2nq9MIjAttNCmCAAF1Xl1eMH-taAMaqloRnK-ymgEi26ph2nBFVmKkOdFDccih8stJZ9j04pb_o90v6OXJ26gBseGbILYOoFT1Nze7JIy5jHxxGdXV-8_CQh7UEaklrL9XWrIzpW43/s400/DSC00044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539519000803761842" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHJq2iTkpqW20f7P06YcPEIN3Mlw8oKCTamk9kXYy8IrdfzMOknQpXSeOKzgigp2Coviv8gqtADYQUHQcN8U1wKJpttjDSKCoZ2KtviKA1IAHWp7aQfVhpJJoYvzM_QuaFKeSXbgVOfilW/s1600/DSC00043.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHJq2iTkpqW20f7P06YcPEIN3Mlw8oKCTamk9kXYy8IrdfzMOknQpXSeOKzgigp2Coviv8gqtADYQUHQcN8U1wKJpttjDSKCoZ2KtviKA1IAHWp7aQfVhpJJoYvzM_QuaFKeSXbgVOfilW/s400/DSC00043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539518987060267810" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_OQ1I5kLHY_0DYTnQkFwti05pSNkcjENRKifWYt2p0XRExAZTgx53vXgfnMqL0O4Iz2j6e5bEIHO0q0ZF1yyA_IwoSQUz1lpknKgyS3FVmziRXD8slPBgbvYv0R4kw3R_Pe3rSSuvGWs/s1600/DSC00041.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_OQ1I5kLHY_0DYTnQkFwti05pSNkcjENRKifWYt2p0XRExAZTgx53vXgfnMqL0O4Iz2j6e5bEIHO0q0ZF1yyA_IwoSQUz1lpknKgyS3FVmziRXD8slPBgbvYv0R4kw3R_Pe3rSSuvGWs/s400/DSC00041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539518977036048994" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7n9Bd9Tj0pZYgfv3HJZ9zcELLRLfnAhQb981jd5YE8yamk8_O0EFwuQGnqq154kjNE4pSwRgqWV9y1o99eCR8KVDVRDkE1gFDz2ie0RFOQA6dXyoZpNmVmM9vTSWY5E7PfxemFW4lc3-D/s1600/DSC00037.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7n9Bd9Tj0pZYgfv3HJZ9zcELLRLfnAhQb981jd5YE8yamk8_O0EFwuQGnqq154kjNE4pSwRgqWV9y1o99eCR8KVDVRDkE1gFDz2ie0RFOQA6dXyoZpNmVmM9vTSWY5E7PfxemFW4lc3-D/s400/DSC00037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539518963295643746" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bWM0UgmhSgEwKPkQH5OOeMezTBXJWlM7_xjsq3vuhrLab_wx9vQOEajLmmMTEu3TJPSgkNZq0Ryo37mvaBgbLWG89y90aDeGfQBjnqrf9fdWxzrEMdJca7HD6rmB7O18uE5LO1lSBS8z/s1600/DSC00036.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9bWM0UgmhSgEwKPkQH5OOeMezTBXJWlM7_xjsq3vuhrLab_wx9vQOEajLmmMTEu3TJPSgkNZq0Ryo37mvaBgbLWG89y90aDeGfQBjnqrf9fdWxzrEMdJca7HD6rmB7O18uE5LO1lSBS8z/s400/DSC00036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539518954219756770" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvKfwQBaMZFNTUmCr4sYNFpi1YlIhHfo-S9Rh-4Im8_vVus_7ME3Sh_NUpjpkYjvHccUZ76NuZw3OXAuTzejDIIoHXlkCWtyDkbo5swPRx846IoKVqExet0wJgpR-ds9_ZUn8-p3dy89E/s1600/DSC00048.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvKfwQBaMZFNTUmCr4sYNFpi1YlIhHfo-S9Rh-4Im8_vVus_7ME3Sh_NUpjpkYjvHccUZ76NuZw3OXAuTzejDIIoHXlkCWtyDkbo5swPRx846IoKVqExet0wJgpR-ds9_ZUn8-p3dy89E/s400/DSC00048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539524001714686770" border="0" /></a><br />Saturday afternoon at 15:30, il mio cugino (my cousin) Martinho invited me to the opening of an art exhibition which he has a painting in. His glorious Jesus painting lit up the gallery in Palazzo Pazzi, and I was proud to tell people that we are related:) Martinho also introduced me to one of his fellow teachers at the <a href="http://www.angelartschool.com/">Angel Academy</a> who is a graduate of the illustration program at Sheridan College (the same college were I graduated from the animation program)!<br /><br />UPDATE- behold Martinho's painting:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0O0jCZ5kneI3W2IJNq1oHLIs8lojU9gqZyNkwHKK9SJ0InWH27obG1rho_CDVLMl__5_S3LkqfNJXkdINV7aGRpW3DisbINqc96DOFtYbkQgbLsIxinL7uxBnJGAkz5AhLO3SVRgFWJdy/s1600/DSC00082.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0O0jCZ5kneI3W2IJNq1oHLIs8lojU9gqZyNkwHKK9SJ0InWH27obG1rho_CDVLMl__5_S3LkqfNJXkdINV7aGRpW3DisbINqc96DOFtYbkQgbLsIxinL7uxBnJGAkz5AhLO3SVRgFWJdy/s400/DSC00082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542120003975218546" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Today, I put on some music and danced about in the newly abundant space in my bedroom (SPACE!!!). The night before Rosie and I transferred the couch from my room, through the tiny hallway and up the curving stairs, to her room. She wanted to have a little sitting area in her room and I, wanted space! A mutually beneficial arrangement. My bedroom here is seriously the size of my ENTIRE APARTMENT in Toronto. It's nice to be living (mostly) clutter free for a change.<br /><br />In the afternoon I ventured over to Piazza Santo Spirito, my neighborhood gem, to poke through a market full of vintage clothing, antiques, music, candy, books, herbs, and a load of other stuff. From there I stumbled upon more clothing and craft vendors at Piazza Stozzi and then at Piazza della Repubblica which was all food; the busiest, no surprise!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNyXVSjslkxC7EgzAo694X6RTahWp5M3jkFHkHAsCYvJ12pv-bYaJxZ2w5r_9VwYaaICJsIBVffJQWPfBbKRnAgyJtROwwQdYLcexFJq-XxEwAcYiuB-7XM3a3GoHD1c0fgSBQt0AEE4S/s1600/DSC00061.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNyXVSjslkxC7EgzAo694X6RTahWp5M3jkFHkHAsCYvJ12pv-bYaJxZ2w5r_9VwYaaICJsIBVffJQWPfBbKRnAgyJtROwwQdYLcexFJq-XxEwAcYiuB-7XM3a3GoHD1c0fgSBQt0AEE4S/s400/DSC00061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539524035811455810" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGxLiErAjazhk2TQzQdOYU2_9IkH-UbNpPtk9hDsu7-_WVPS2siWUfljSzJuMieUU3TVsMxcjC4n2Lm3s-B8qrOHVcpVfR5wXxGpjSXUe9x97SoRmaIuxx5muWhMJERLrw3H4N8DnHbAp/s1600/DSC00065.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGxLiErAjazhk2TQzQdOYU2_9IkH-UbNpPtk9hDsu7-_WVPS2siWUfljSzJuMieUU3TVsMxcjC4n2Lm3s-B8qrOHVcpVfR5wXxGpjSXUe9x97SoRmaIuxx5muWhMJERLrw3H4N8DnHbAp/s400/DSC00065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539527465017651138" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_pd28SFrLLTfDnARyXVHE2GYOqUijkLYx6cI7tEOXIEIEf7WVlEtRA3jw_PxKiuy_RmIBTr7Kwqd0xC_lE7_vUp9HsJ29dCrrav04Hy8rfibiOp57g7olEqdWG5MdSrw-sJhLijoGRmW/s1600/DSC00063.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_pd28SFrLLTfDnARyXVHE2GYOqUijkLYx6cI7tEOXIEIEf7WVlEtRA3jw_PxKiuy_RmIBTr7Kwqd0xC_lE7_vUp9HsJ29dCrrav04Hy8rfibiOp57g7olEqdWG5MdSrw-sJhLijoGRmW/s400/DSC00063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539524037083020978" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhpi8nzZVvuukaAyBwnbya3LwpXktIRWL7ea1-mMR1ejqo2a1kuPPHNl2WbEI_Pjj7sfbn1u8ifE5H0LLU2S4OSA5-byaCWnpmb0Hp8-T2ohfCKBwTxO9bIriNfouQNEYPpcAEZvRCSnNF/s1600/DSC00071.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhpi8nzZVvuukaAyBwnbya3LwpXktIRWL7ea1-mMR1ejqo2a1kuPPHNl2WbEI_Pjj7sfbn1u8ifE5H0LLU2S4OSA5-byaCWnpmb0Hp8-T2ohfCKBwTxO9bIriNfouQNEYPpcAEZvRCSnNF/s400/DSC00071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539527472849370818" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV93tqlP-H87eLWyp97j0e-7xzG8qHEjs15UUko4JwBoJrdx2ERMI70MnWYro7k8Tbwy8Bwv45CGbTjOVD0SK21PId5L3JqC_nvoBhSZEKjAKJ1FZ781xAXqW1ZWC8JDOV7XgFQhxBfgqV/s1600/DSC00076.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV93tqlP-H87eLWyp97j0e-7xzG8qHEjs15UUko4JwBoJrdx2ERMI70MnWYro7k8Tbwy8Bwv45CGbTjOVD0SK21PId5L3JqC_nvoBhSZEKjAKJ1FZ781xAXqW1ZWC8JDOV7XgFQhxBfgqV/s400/DSC00076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539527478749479890" border="0" /></a><br />Just because it's Sunday and most of the stores are closed on this holy day of rest, doesn't mean there isn't anything happening in the city! I forget this sometimes. I found the veggie vendors and brought home an organic cavolfiore (cauliflower) and a jar of organic pomodoro sugo ai funghi porcini (tomato sauce with porcini mushroom) to cook up some deliciousness.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMmvxWvi9cuHEYBnXjFCORPjkz_-xiBbO-TBg2xvOI9ADK_AbnSZGs-sJpj52EiB3daEZze7ADjRJjL5kJ2D9rl5TXsFSzOuan0QAWBO4WuakvenLfgGYniZeEAGFCmI778VhX1RVytyR/s1600/DSC00079.JPG"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHcZLddqW24lPm2z84crwFMuPMdDYTDx4oC3X67LFpE7j9lEb1H99VLrUHIMIC1iti-piHUtT5ZOOXjIgas-wP-Zbe2tABs-sCSPycyud52bL4qd10kEaFdeCfqF1YE71IDhjFkS4Uwq9a/s1600/DSC00077.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHcZLddqW24lPm2z84crwFMuPMdDYTDx4oC3X67LFpE7j9lEb1H99VLrUHIMIC1iti-piHUtT5ZOOXjIgas-wP-Zbe2tABs-sCSPycyud52bL4qd10kEaFdeCfqF1YE71IDhjFkS4Uwq9a/s400/DSC00077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539527487149360706" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMmvxWvi9cuHEYBnXjFCORPjkz_-xiBbO-TBg2xvOI9ADK_AbnSZGs-sJpj52EiB3daEZze7ADjRJjL5kJ2D9rl5TXsFSzOuan0QAWBO4WuakvenLfgGYniZeEAGFCmI778VhX1RVytyR/s1600/DSC00079.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMmvxWvi9cuHEYBnXjFCORPjkz_-xiBbO-TBg2xvOI9ADK_AbnSZGs-sJpj52EiB3daEZze7ADjRJjL5kJ2D9rl5TXsFSzOuan0QAWBO4WuakvenLfgGYniZeEAGFCmI778VhX1RVytyR/s400/DSC00079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539527493876904194" border="0" /></a>I walked home across the Ponte Vecchio (old bridge).jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-2334365552799470822010-11-07T03:53:00.000-08:002010-11-14T10:49:46.196-08:00Catching up<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjym6Day_vPhq9xbJDddET8pkj8na6iQOjuaJ7OlomQ5TgEbkaJmQdtfTcojQ76OUpXVl6mGU5qZ_FT45ssT3o_SxMzA-lbFFQbrgJ-B7SYAP13sw7aHGZQe63NmWojW5uQJODU6No_6cIQ/s1600/palazzo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjym6Day_vPhq9xbJDddET8pkj8na6iQOjuaJ7OlomQ5TgEbkaJmQdtfTcojQ76OUpXVl6mGU5qZ_FT45ssT3o_SxMzA-lbFFQbrgJ-B7SYAP13sw7aHGZQe63NmWojW5uQJODU6No_6cIQ/s400/palazzo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536799320989704498" /></a><br />(this isn't my picture...i was going to go snap one but it's raining today:)<br />(Note: The food pics aren't mine either...)<br /><br />I've been spending time in the afternoon sun this week sitting in front of the Palazzo Pitti, next door to my apartment, sketching people or studying italian. Also I made a point to weave through all the streets in the historic center, first horizontally and then vertically, to discover new little crevices I'd missed before and to be able to navigate them better. There are so many little streets connecting, it's like a maze! Also I spent one evening sketching the statues at the Loggia in the famous Piazza della signoria. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZQsU-kEKSbiw4hl2L08KebN6YnKtOVDkQSrwcMXNj1nN1AZ5-9uidvqA2jnlWRO5awkGNDPLlWuGGmPGbBN-ofq3EhsbBKbu6JSFqbNDmDaHBXhPov2Y3ddLHZgwut69GkkTo7MAPQ-D/s1600/DSC00141.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUZQsU-kEKSbiw4hl2L08KebN6YnKtOVDkQSrwcMXNj1nN1AZ5-9uidvqA2jnlWRO5awkGNDPLlWuGGmPGbBN-ofq3EhsbBKbu6JSFqbNDmDaHBXhPov2Y3ddLHZgwut69GkkTo7MAPQ-D/s400/DSC00141.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536793926938275090" /></a><br /><br />In my quest for fresh gluten-free alternatives I've discovered two lovely traditional tuscan foods that I can eat! Castagnaccio (kah-stan-NEEAH-cheeo), a flat bread made primarily of chestnut flour with raisins, pine nuts, walnuts, rosemary, olive oil and salt. I don't ever recall seeing chestnut flour available in Canada, so when I saw some in the store a few weeks ago I wanted to experiment (this was before I discovered the castagnaccio). I amended a recipe I found online and made a mini cake using chestnut flour and cocoa powder which turned out quite nice. I left out the sweetener and drizzled some honey on it after it came out of the oven. Chestnuts are very abundant here. Interestingly, it's starch content is super high compared to all other nuts which primarily consist of fat.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZ1pY6Aop9HcfKpFhravtG_A-y1i3HnpGzL2Te3bR_zu9EGQj9ZoVbqqz5E9inYrJHhz46EYWWvackVnsQRmSsGqTIdhyvL6KbNYi7e2ljaXkOjeLJE3Dt-DMb5CgbzXUGCaPFPVdB_2v/s1600/castagnaccio+web.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZ1pY6Aop9HcfKpFhravtG_A-y1i3HnpGzL2Te3bR_zu9EGQj9ZoVbqqz5E9inYrJHhz46EYWWvackVnsQRmSsGqTIdhyvL6KbNYi7e2ljaXkOjeLJE3Dt-DMb5CgbzXUGCaPFPVdB_2v/s400/castagnaccio+web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536793920823256706" /></a><br /><br />The other naturally gluten-free tuscan food is the cecina (cheh-CHEE-na), a chickpea flatbread, made just of chickpea flour, water, olive oil and salt! I attempted making this myself the other day but didn't have the proper bakewear so it came out a little thick and sticky, but still tasted pretty good:) I will try it again cooking it in the crepe method on the stove. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw-wa3KRw8qFgTHZMRTDTcA35S-UifAOGJtXTh23gTVq5hpklu_VdxKJ9UcHeofDoJM2eHtwoOQQJcCWwccdOy9T3i58AhSu87OeFOKL6HuyueCugtZ6R1JDHuXLxnqv1afmeybK_al56V/s1600/CCDRD118_cecina_s4x3_lg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw-wa3KRw8qFgTHZMRTDTcA35S-UifAOGJtXTh23gTVq5hpklu_VdxKJ9UcHeofDoJM2eHtwoOQQJcCWwccdOy9T3i58AhSu87OeFOKL6HuyueCugtZ6R1JDHuXLxnqv1afmeybK_al56V/s400/CCDRD118_cecina_s4x3_lg.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536793918592915442" /></a><br />If you want to make it, here's the recipe!<br /><br />CECINA:<br /><br />1c chickpea flour<br />2c water<br />2 teaspoons olive oil<br />dash of salt<br /><br />>Mix the batter getting out all the lumps and let it sit for 2-4 hours. <br />>Preheat oven to 450 F, pour a liberal amount of olive oil in a deep, circular baking sheet. Add batter 1/4-1/2 inch thick.(Try to keep the sheet steady as you transfer it into the oven. Ideally the batter is supposed to float on top of the oil...)<br /> <br />>Bake anywhere from 10-35 mins (depending how thick it is) until golden brown on top<br /><br />The crepe method cooking alternative: Turn the stove on med heat and add some butter or olive oil in a large frying pan. Once a drop of water makes it sizzle, pour in a scoopful of batter, lift the pan and rotate your wrist, spreading the batter into a thin circle. Cook a few minutes, then flip. Repeat for the remaining batter. <br /><br />>Slice it like a pizza and sprinkle with pepper and yet even more olive oil if you'd like. This seems to be the traditional way to eat it, however I prefer to dress it up with some veggies, like tomatoes, spinach, and/or basil. You could also try it as a dessert with some berries or honey on top, or eat it like a crepe and roll it up. <br /><br />***Additional Note: I figured out the best way to cook these things! I tried the crepe method but it stuck to the pan like crazy! I the most success using a silicon baking mould (mine is in a heart shape<3) and pouring in a bit thicker layer of batter, 1/2 to 1 inch, and baking it. This works well because your don't have to use oil. After it's baked, flip it out of the silicon and THEN drizzle with olive oil or whatever you'd like! <br /><br />Tomorrow I start my Italian classes; 2 hours a day, 4 days a week. I'm excited! Knowing that I won't have complete free time anymore propelled me to be productive this week. I finished an elective course that accompanies the TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) Foundation Course which I did in November 2008. Yes I procrastinated this elective course for 2 years! However it turned out to be quite easy and I even enjoyed it somewhat. It's for teaching TOEFL Preparation, the exam that non-english students have to take in order to attend an english College or University. It feels good to finish something! I hope this feeling will propel me to finish more things in the future:)<br /><br />In other news, I will apparently be getting heat in my room this week. Fingers crossed!jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-78813639567060797402010-11-02T03:48:00.000-07:002010-11-03T07:37:03.593-07:00Italian immersion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgWa61o5-ri8KiiOGOw2TwyKr2nWZpbotvOUyjtigAa4IQVnxU1bWtWpX1wSEL4JF2xJ8DEXPRU6LeDlYzUruTX7aYypxzL5Vm5sU9ts_bmLpbHnpjBCvg29zf49khs_QVlmGajBhsF0i/s1600/DSC00019.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgWa61o5-ri8KiiOGOw2TwyKr2nWZpbotvOUyjtigAa4IQVnxU1bWtWpX1wSEL4JF2xJ8DEXPRU6LeDlYzUruTX7aYypxzL5Vm5sU9ts_bmLpbHnpjBCvg29zf49khs_QVlmGajBhsF0i/s400/DSC00019.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535319766112887618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinXD65nKLu050wfWywicud5QBu60iAkknuI-gewzipI_D8thtxIKZX9MAIntY131962nZ6Nd1Uh7O2Bsbjj0fJTcxUp26cz1dXtn2v1DJhP2q9umyvmtmCPFeAGPPQFHu9jWESOYUZnj3/s1600/DSC00017.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinXD65nKLu050wfWywicud5QBu60iAkknuI-gewzipI_D8thtxIKZX9MAIntY131962nZ6Nd1Uh7O2Bsbjj0fJTcxUp26cz1dXtn2v1DJhP2q9umyvmtmCPFeAGPPQFHu9jWESOYUZnj3/s400/DSC00017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535312095112407026" /></a><br />The pics below I snapped in a beautiful park I discovered on the outskirts of Florence. The leaves are changing colors here too! Although not as much as in Canada. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BCaFkdDPqNETp-0CquxIp4zf_KKfbPcplAjEx4DTJJKXzQPf0Oc9FZD4aagIXIRbPJRe1NBqqLztO2sMkMa1xgKrVmwZv1GGl_gbmwWBwDf6frMzgKk8f9kPuuWVjuL3tQ-nR4iNH0r3/s1600/DSC00156.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2BCaFkdDPqNETp-0CquxIp4zf_KKfbPcplAjEx4DTJJKXzQPf0Oc9FZD4aagIXIRbPJRe1NBqqLztO2sMkMa1xgKrVmwZv1GGl_gbmwWBwDf6frMzgKk8f9kPuuWVjuL3tQ-nR4iNH0r3/s400/DSC00156.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535312089771000034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkU045SKBkBGz_veV9VzWCG1ZQCvgx4yhmKJ74kS3AMFYyZLjQsRAHjI1oRdMmFS6DjtDK5Hn1x5i9wnQA1vXkLWc5CCxiOrqARJCiTneeFjr-RiXtlTSeEiJQCuG49ZQ7NDPCuBlJVWP0/s1600/DSC00153.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkU045SKBkBGz_veV9VzWCG1ZQCvgx4yhmKJ74kS3AMFYyZLjQsRAHjI1oRdMmFS6DjtDK5Hn1x5i9wnQA1vXkLWc5CCxiOrqARJCiTneeFjr-RiXtlTSeEiJQCuG49ZQ7NDPCuBlJVWP0/s400/DSC00153.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535312079237552210" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQ-s27owtJWEKklbVgC9ZMVa5TOUbp9FDJ4NZrM8iOdAnEdr1_2-Hb9eA5rxu5eHwfayT8m92VJAVeGZNfP4lK6rRlcUQEbtFXAVmpUGgupNPUg4mpsEDNOL6Ok1Gm4svBcfxPyD2hFbS/s1600/DSC00147.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQ-s27owtJWEKklbVgC9ZMVa5TOUbp9FDJ4NZrM8iOdAnEdr1_2-Hb9eA5rxu5eHwfayT8m92VJAVeGZNfP4lK6rRlcUQEbtFXAVmpUGgupNPUg4mpsEDNOL6Ok1Gm4svBcfxPyD2hFbS/s400/DSC00147.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535312071924855922" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEMMt24JXDvhSqJuDgLGq16OHwU1b4N2oNJH-5iGd-3BHV3Z7KcM-njCQ-xvdGOJnRthyKTfNKaZ6-q3RD_SJ_PYskeaIcEJpZHR_MGyFr04jM8HOsLtlRN-inlz-DMSUc1td6l8auaHJ/s1600/DSC00146.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEMMt24JXDvhSqJuDgLGq16OHwU1b4N2oNJH-5iGd-3BHV3Z7KcM-njCQ-xvdGOJnRthyKTfNKaZ6-q3RD_SJ_PYskeaIcEJpZHR_MGyFr04jM8HOsLtlRN-inlz-DMSUc1td6l8auaHJ/s400/DSC00146.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535312060425779346" /></a><br /><br />Although Halloween has always been my favorite event, it's not really celebrated here; not by the locals at least. However the day after Halloween is a religious holiday, All Saints Day, and the city gets the day off. As luck would have it, my Halloween weekend was spent attending a Workshop Crudista, or a Raw Food Workshop, in the nearby Tuscan town of Montespertoli. As some people may know, I'm very interested in nutrition and health and this led me to learning about raw foods over the past year and half. I love raw foods because to me it's all about being creative with the simplist ingredients possible. It's so much fun, as well as being super healthy.<br /><br />I had been trying to find information online about raw foods in Italy, if there was a community or any resources, but wasn't having any luck. Then last week while shopping at the local health food store I picked up a little flyer at the cash desk and I recognized the word 'crudista' (raw food). I took the flyer and translated it once I got home, discovering it was for this workshop on Sunday and Monday in Montespertoli. I sent an email to the address listed explaining my situation in Italian 'sono interessanta ma non parlo italiano molto bene' (i'm interested but I don't speak italian very well...) and received an email back in English from Vito, one of the instructors putting on the event. He said that both the instructors spoke English well and that it would be fine for me to come:)<br /><br />From there it all fell together. He made me a reservation at the estate where the workshop would be held and arranged a ride for me with one of his friends driving in from Florence. I showed up at the meeting spot, in front of Bar Deanna, Sunday morning at 8:45 as planned, quite tired as I spent most of the night awake coughing (not sure why my lungs were in rough shape for a few days...). I waited and waited, and then it started to rain. I ducked under the awning of bar and continued to wait patiently, but after 45 mins I started to wonder. I called the number Vito had given me for his friend, Roberta. <br /><br />She handed the phone to her boyfriend who spoke English and I explained I was waiting in front of the bar and asked if they were on their way? He said yes, they'd be there in 1o minutes. Pfeew. I was glad I hadn't missed my ride although I was questioning 'is it common for italians to be THIS late??'. They showed up shortly after and we proceed to wait another 15 mins or so for another girl, arriving to Florence by train. I kept glancing at the clock and thinking there was no way we were going to reach Montespertoli by 10am when the workshop started, but I shrugged it off as it was all about the experience for me anyway. <br /><br />I listened to the Italian conversation for the 30 min car ride, trying to recognize words I knew and follow along, but many times my brain revolted and I peeked out the window at the lovely surroundings instead. We reached our destination around 11am and I was then shown to the room I would be sharing with Francesca, a woman from Rome who lucky for me, spoke English well. Once I told her I was from Canada she happily told me some of her favorite Canadian indie bands, including Broken Social Scene, one of my faves as well:) It was cool to hear this as many times when asked what type of music I liked by people in Florence, I would reply 'indie rock' and no one knew what I was talking about!<br /><br />For the most part of the day I felt like the deaf, mute, blonde sheep, separated from the pack, which I tried to accept gracefully. They asked me if I wanted a translator for the food demos but I turned them down. In truth I was there not to learn to prepare raw food, as I already knew how, but to use my interest as incentive to learn more italian. I watched and let the italian syllables flow through my ears, encouraging my brain to grasp a few meaningful combinations here and there. It helped that I already knew most fruit, vegetable and nut vocabulary in italian. As such, the recipe book was easy to decipher, it was the listening that was really tough.<br /><br />The first meal was served around 3pm at which point I was starving, having only eating a few organic apples they had on the tables during the demo. The meal included a lovely insalata (salad) followed by raw pizza (on a dehydrated buckwheat crust with tomatoes and nut puree`) and for dessert, cheesecake al cioccolato e arancia (chocolate orange cheesecake, made not with cheese but cashews). It was all very nice. We were instructed to return for the dinner demo at 5pm, so I went back to my room to rest but soon realized I didn't have as much time as I would've liked. <br /><br />I rushed back at 5 to find a mostly empty room, so I waited around but it remained very quiet. Thinking there must be some italian code that everyone understands you're expected to be an hour late, I returned to my room and on the way said hello to a couple in the hallway who were staying in the room next to mine. I asked them in Italian 'a che ora cominciamo?' (at what time we start?) and they said in english, at 5pm. I asked, isn't it past 5 already? and they said it was 5pm in 15 minutes. I said oh, okay, and then returned to my room in a bubble of confusion. <br /><br />I sat and stared into nothingness until all of a sudden the knot of wires in my brain untangled and DING! The lightbulb went off! I recalled having plotted in my dayplanner earlier in the week after reading it in the english newspaper: DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME ENDS, TURN CLOCK BACK 1 HOUR on Saturday night which I completely forgot about while planning for my excursion! It all made sense now! Funny how it took me all day to figure this out. <br /><br />That night following dinner, which included the amazing torta di carota for dessert (carrot cake, yum), I slept well in my little Tuscan bed. The next morning I was up and ready for yoga at 8am. Once again, the deaf, mute, blonde sheep followed along as best as she could, but at least I wasn't blind. For most of the yoga class you were to have your eyes closed but I peeked in order to understand the instructions;) For the acro yoga class later in the day I had a lady translate because it involved working in groups and lifting or being lifted by another person according to specific anatomical instructions on placement of hands and feet... I couldn't really fake my way through that one for the safety of myself or my partners.<br /><br />During a lunch of crema di zucca (cream of squash soup), insalata verde con funghi marinati (green salad with marinated mushrooms) and cavolfiore al formaggio (cauliflower in a cheese sauce, made of nuts) with mousse al cioccolato (chocolate mousse) for dessert, I sat next to a couple and their 9 year old daughter from the north of Italy. They encouraged the girl, Natasha, to tell me some english phrases she learned at 'city camp' over the summer. She proceeded to shyly tell me some sentences she remembered with her cute, thick italian accent like: Iah avva aya dogga. And: Iah leeika alla animalaz. Somehow with the amount of italian I knew and the amount of english the girl and her parents knew, we were able to have some amount of conversation during the meal which was really nice. Afterall, eating socially really is more about the company than the food:) <br /><br />We made it back to Florence around 6pm where Rosie and I greeted each other excitedly and caught each other up on our weekends. Spending the weekend mostly in immersion definitely allowed me to make progress in the area my italian language skills were lacking most, which is listening. As well I met a few people who live in Florence and are interested in healthy food, including an Indian woman who studied at the University of Toronto some years ago and is living just up the street from me. <br /><br />Interestingly, I experienced a bit of a reversed situation around eating. Although I could share in eating the food, I was disconnected due to the language barrier. In contrast, I'm normally able to communicate with those whom I'm eating but am disconnected due to not eating the same food. As I've come to realize it, although italian culture is so much based around food, the food itself is just a catalyst for people to connect. So really, emphasis can be taken off of food and onto more important things, at least in my brain<3<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmX9amGsgl1JzKVn1oVAhaxlZcCYGvsvdrGM1KsMaCyPQ2VVmdvjsTmIe4V0LyuYypakrsGcinB4E9PpsCcp9AVkMzfixDJSGHoi9N77u2DUNSlE2Zr90vdnOT_SlLfMgoa8Rd_UM6bIHO/s1600/DSC00003.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmX9amGsgl1JzKVn1oVAhaxlZcCYGvsvdrGM1KsMaCyPQ2VVmdvjsTmIe4V0LyuYypakrsGcinB4E9PpsCcp9AVkMzfixDJSGHoi9N77u2DUNSlE2Zr90vdnOT_SlLfMgoa8Rd_UM6bIHO/s400/DSC00003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535324233040223618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCVcrGXcLMGrT78grT1uLufO1m8VSwSi6gZwTVX-4s4fs7brANMgk2d-JM1TPuNqGMDUBNq_VYAc_a4Hbt2qfEHI0zOAt22f6QaaH0o1fWcyyx8kBnC2qka8YCBNlahc7n5M2C0zW009Q/s1600/DSC00004.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCVcrGXcLMGrT78grT1uLufO1m8VSwSi6gZwTVX-4s4fs7brANMgk2d-JM1TPuNqGMDUBNq_VYAc_a4Hbt2qfEHI0zOAt22f6QaaH0o1fWcyyx8kBnC2qka8YCBNlahc7n5M2C0zW009Q/s400/DSC00004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535324225056580002" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREo8mN7gOtyMULOH7EWdUgkxaWCWBblfOeKV4YtS7t6-2xNLnG66lhvUqj-82iQgR34vMUi_g6gBgljgEACloMwL-aq6JC6kYmXFD8Gmj4CuSWrd6-8aLvnKtwxgg-CC6U1-rAE2FGu0v/s1600/DSC00005.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREo8mN7gOtyMULOH7EWdUgkxaWCWBblfOeKV4YtS7t6-2xNLnG66lhvUqj-82iQgR34vMUi_g6gBgljgEACloMwL-aq6JC6kYmXFD8Gmj4CuSWrd6-8aLvnKtwxgg-CC6U1-rAE2FGu0v/s400/DSC00005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535321716643333394" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXvW31iVQrqjJB6wVn6hYG5Rh8-CEGuDsYD4GKRTzUTdjOuuSC-pl-tL6ZZ7_mrZDMW7pI5w_L9jHITwY7ppsZmOsLDX7wBlWV_bXl-sCVra9fANtauVU9RuRslUlRPENWXTfGOOBQ0Ko/s1600/DSC00008.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXvW31iVQrqjJB6wVn6hYG5Rh8-CEGuDsYD4GKRTzUTdjOuuSC-pl-tL6ZZ7_mrZDMW7pI5w_L9jHITwY7ppsZmOsLDX7wBlWV_bXl-sCVra9fANtauVU9RuRslUlRPENWXTfGOOBQ0Ko/s400/DSC00008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535321710615659202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTT8dq_JtMfY4RbnymjdkjZmZogTrYgx6vH4fqHXTHV_0o3iBulB5V-3ynlaa8eprWsvBz238fPy3A2owuwgDnCnn7ZyIHPJ9jhi8gtnDHCjzm25VgJkHOab0GqnEZDIYfE2PtTCpIk0o7/s1600/DSC00007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTT8dq_JtMfY4RbnymjdkjZmZogTrYgx6vH4fqHXTHV_0o3iBulB5V-3ynlaa8eprWsvBz238fPy3A2owuwgDnCnn7ZyIHPJ9jhi8gtnDHCjzm25VgJkHOab0GqnEZDIYfE2PtTCpIk0o7/s400/DSC00007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535321702124502338" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJCRxrSZQFZCwh26P8o5UB7IrgiCXxMOr-YjBZKV4Idcoyk-_9mGPFo0TTerraZt3fPJh5qAVn3C-P5RkicQSNsmllrMKKpdRKD_rYCRVPf1BmifQDlaQIHt8WYbP6eH6xqHgaZj8eegZO/s1600/DSC00011.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJCRxrSZQFZCwh26P8o5UB7IrgiCXxMOr-YjBZKV4Idcoyk-_9mGPFo0TTerraZt3fPJh5qAVn3C-P5RkicQSNsmllrMKKpdRKD_rYCRVPf1BmifQDlaQIHt8WYbP6eH6xqHgaZj8eegZO/s400/DSC00011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535321698693918034" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHZGnNDksoF8f2Zb7dXYxueRRJ_56xIeimnYElc2G7TXPJ2_kVBD4uIABb7ck_fh9ZkXEXvlGp1oel9OuYv1Jmbkas3GbzUSrrX_vcqdHa9O_8UP4zBTVR45FkQF1q6EpYpIQ_TV8iun8/s1600/DSC00016.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHZGnNDksoF8f2Zb7dXYxueRRJ_56xIeimnYElc2G7TXPJ2_kVBD4uIABb7ck_fh9ZkXEXvlGp1oel9OuYv1Jmbkas3GbzUSrrX_vcqdHa9O_8UP4zBTVR45FkQF1q6EpYpIQ_TV8iun8/s400/DSC00016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535321690370646418" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-2107597203120414032010-10-25T10:28:00.002-07:002010-10-25T10:36:19.102-07:00CommentsI fixed the comment setting so now anyone can comment without having an account. Please do! xoxojenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-28068442772219202842010-10-24T07:49:00.000-07:002010-11-14T10:38:55.335-08:00A new week<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinXeJsDUF8eYOS2wuxjzA60E5f666drgYZQCC1cFohacm3yIR0EDgisLV40Z4DhvRFJ2OeR-nxUB-igAGZGaFEm3K6syR-WcRYb7HtOM8YwBp9qxakzrP0_w7umGFWGdbWnEE0ActrZ1sA/s1600/DSC00130.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinXeJsDUF8eYOS2wuxjzA60E5f666drgYZQCC1cFohacm3yIR0EDgisLV40Z4DhvRFJ2OeR-nxUB-igAGZGaFEm3K6syR-WcRYb7HtOM8YwBp9qxakzrP0_w7umGFWGdbWnEE0ActrZ1sA/s400/DSC00130.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531706783623386290" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSk-oM2_OJBCs6lRbgY7HMDDjqG4oI2RHcA9SganXUHCOd8oo6irroPl9dduqG8aw943RX-0WFvK-wjY__O_NGnj5anUeT0iqqEQuigdpm9VuOsZ4jjKRshZ9vYkgRcRJRp84Fe-BA-udK/s1600/DSC00131.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSk-oM2_OJBCs6lRbgY7HMDDjqG4oI2RHcA9SganXUHCOd8oo6irroPl9dduqG8aw943RX-0WFvK-wjY__O_NGnj5anUeT0iqqEQuigdpm9VuOsZ4jjKRshZ9vYkgRcRJRp84Fe-BA-udK/s400/DSC00131.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531706772497732386" /></a><br /><br />This week was full of new experiences once again. One of these was doing a yoga class in Italian at studio in my neighborhood. I had to peek at the others in order to follow along, but I learned lots of new vocabulary like la gamba (leg), inspirare (to inhale), espirare (to exhale), la spina (spine), il corpo (body), il braccio (arm), and got lots of practice deciphering right and left (destra and sinistra).<br /><br />As well I managed to scope out a clothing tailor (una sartoria)on paginegialle.it (the yellowpages)to adjust my jeans. She didn't speak english so it was a challenge to communicate, but we managed. She gave me a few pointers too, correcting my pronunciation of 'capisco' (cap-EES-co not cap-EESH-o) which means 'I understand'. I will pick them up in due settimane (2 weeks) and pay her trenta euros (30, expensive!). At the end as we were striving settle the details she said sympathetically 'e` difficile' and I was confused and repeated it a few times to myself, 'deefeecheeleh, deefeecheeleh...' and the light bulb went off. Ah! Difficult! One of those words that isn't so far from the english translation. I told her 'Si, e` difficile ma imparo'. Yes it is difficult but I learn. I only know how to communicate the present currently;)<br /><br />I've registered for an Italian course during November, but wanted to get a jumpstart so I arranged an hour with a woman I found on craigslist, not too far from my neighborhood. She was very nice and reminds me of my Argentinian friend, Lucia, so I felt very comfortable:) She reminded me of a few important things about pronunciation, for example, when there's double letters in Italian, it's very important to pronounce them both. H's are silent, so in order to distinguish the word hanno (they have) from ano (asshole) you must hold that 'nnnn' for an extra beat. Very important. She was quite impressed with my writing ability when dictating words to me. Pronunciation of letters is pretty straightforward in Italian, unlike English, thankfully. Also we practiced the differences between letters with and without accents, which made a new lightbulb go on for me. I didn't really understand why it was referred to as open or closed sounds, but after practicing and feeling the difference in my mouth and face, I understood. You have to open your mouth a little more to emphasize the accented letters. Un po`! (a little!)<br /><br />I was considering going to Torino on Friday for Salone del Gusto and Terra Madre, a festival and convention supporting Slow Food (as opposed to fast food) and ecological agriculture. I first found out about it in Toronto this summer at small street festival in my neighborhood where I bought some organic strawberries. There was a sign for Toronto's Slow Food group, they were raising money to attend Terra Madre in Italy, and I asked them what it was. I had it plotted in my dayplanner so when I rediscovered it this month I looked into train fares. Torino (or Turin) is a 3 hour train ride northwest of Florence, close to France (and Annecy!). The tickets came to over 200$ CAD and affordable hotels were all booked up, so that would've left me with 6 hours of travel time, and 5 hours in Torino, not worth it, I decided. Perhaps next year. <br /><br />Instead, my Friday consisted of meeting new people, live music, dancing, and lard....let me explain. I joined a meetup group for people looking to practice Italian or English in Florence. There was an event Friday evening at a little wine bar so off I went. I met some very nice people, some locals, some Americans and a few Brits. Everyone had a story. One of the Italians was from a city in the south, and I inquired as to where. He said'Calabria', a region I was familiar with. I told him that my great grandparents were from a small town in that region near Catanzaro, called Amato. Surprisingly he knew it and has been there! The population of the town is only 800 people so not it's not very well known. He said it's very nice and gave me advice on the cheapest way to fly there when I'm ready to visit. I need to get really good at speaking Italian first!<br /><br />This is also where the lard came in. I had a few days in a row of a gluten bender, which included my 'eve of indulgence' the day before. Foccacia, cheese, pastry, chocolate, gelato....I had a bit of everything. At this wine bar there was a number of little snacks brought to us, all consisting of combinations of bread, cheese and/or meat. As I was drinking l'acqua frizzante (carbonated water) while everyone else was drinking wine (it was a WINE bar after all), I had already made my health friendly choice, and decided to let go and eat few of the little bite sized snacks. I stuck to the vegetarian looking ones but am pretty sure I consumed a piece of meat in one of the mini sandwiches. The first in years. Then they brought out the last tray... <br /><br />What is that? I asked, and one of the integrated Americans explained. 'Lardo' or just plain lard in English. She said it was gross but one of the Italians dived in, yum. Sensing his impoliteness, he offered me to try it first. I hesitated, and said I was a vegetarian, and he said, oh nevermind then, but I felt a tinge of curiosity in me and said I'd have a little bite. This wasn't easy as I had to gnaw on it like a dog to bite a small piece off. It was chewy, really chewy. I'm glad I got over my food issues to try it, but I don't think I'll venture to the extent of lard again! When I returned home afterwards, I had red splotches all over my face and jaw. I remembered my face feeling hot when I was there also. The results of an allergic reaction to bread? cheese? meat? lard? Who knows, but after a few days of headaches and moodiness, it's pretty clear it's not in my best interest to experiment. Because of my food choices, I can't fully participate in Italian culture but it's worth it to not feel like total crap:D<br /><br />Later that evening I went to a live music performance with my roommate, Rosie and her friend visiting from England. Despite being Italian the band played some amazing country/ho-down/folk music with the banjo, cello, and harmonica, it made me want to get up and dance, depression-era style. Apart from us 3 blonde girls, the whole room appeared to be local Italians which is unusual in Florence, there are so many tourists and students from other countries. As the performance went on and the energy escalated, the room became more and more packed and people squished in to make room for others to sit. The guy I was sitting next to struck up a conversation with me and his friend was trying to get Rosie to dance with him to the last song. She was protesting that she didn't want to and I felt my friend Alex's fearless spirit bubble through me. She loves to dance and won't let anything keep her from doing it! I really wanted to dance! I volunteered to dance with the guy and they cleared out some space for us in front of the band. He proceeded to spin and fling me around for the final song while everyone cheered us on, and I got to fulfill my urge to ho-down, Italian style. To hear the tunes, check out: <a href="http://www.myspace.com/florencenewgrass ">http://www.myspace.com/florencenewgrass </a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGlIfMebBwfjy6S-gM22jEaBWmHjyAzFABwh2Hduwaj0nqxwOasHmbUwPAOxdRJ4Po_PVGMsPnxaZ4qKoZ7Xpy7ycGFXm4GSj4qNQbQ8t4-owyN5SJOaAW4iqKE7bAn8axEbMc05jhKsF/s1600/DSC00133.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGlIfMebBwfjy6S-gM22jEaBWmHjyAzFABwh2Hduwaj0nqxwOasHmbUwPAOxdRJ4Po_PVGMsPnxaZ4qKoZ7Xpy7ycGFXm4GSj4qNQbQ8t4-owyN5SJOaAW4iqKE7bAn8axEbMc05jhKsF/s400/DSC00133.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531706770173656898" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dt4Mzj99gHV4cSxtcYwqgzhzNxgV7SrtH8B-5o_93gcgzyMAIfRz2TNO6cS1LJTIKX9oLS4NFdtKIJ0o5rva2_6xQ9amGHSKGH9OtusTri-0dkcmn-5ZQgmo9Xc2TBE6-gNfsNKsY_dO/s1600/DSC00135.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3dt4Mzj99gHV4cSxtcYwqgzhzNxgV7SrtH8B-5o_93gcgzyMAIfRz2TNO6cS1LJTIKX9oLS4NFdtKIJ0o5rva2_6xQ9amGHSKGH9OtusTri-0dkcmn-5ZQgmo9Xc2TBE6-gNfsNKsY_dO/s400/DSC00135.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531706764184945010" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-13420903703083018842010-10-18T05:59:00.000-07:002010-10-18T07:47:51.892-07:00Sunday organic market<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKlwW_c04wbGd9snuFwAURqRw3lK16OmfbGSDVckHGgcTqdCnCn8Psun2pHa3tCWjEbtR22TtWLJUQ9vCxmk3b3yP5WUbBEhVVO7p1jtxXMtA2QDIrf2GS5Gfv2rJMVXvrKzHexh3oU2_/s1600/DSC00122.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVKlwW_c04wbGd9snuFwAURqRw3lK16OmfbGSDVckHGgcTqdCnCn8Psun2pHa3tCWjEbtR22TtWLJUQ9vCxmk3b3yP5WUbBEhVVO7p1jtxXMtA2QDIrf2GS5Gfv2rJMVXvrKzHexh3oU2_/s400/DSC00122.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529389056781334258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjkJirVBB6NB3ofWo2HKVlV0uLxOecDz2SG_q9XJYR2-s0W18LE11JmjVImTIq6zDVSeShw2f6U3GcMooL61XWESBJEsmH_JL-jGgqxHMXVEFg1UTRUR0GzJpZfBCQ4xZl5-QB90uj40O/s1600/DSC00121.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjkJirVBB6NB3ofWo2HKVlV0uLxOecDz2SG_q9XJYR2-s0W18LE11JmjVImTIq6zDVSeShw2f6U3GcMooL61XWESBJEsmH_JL-jGgqxHMXVEFg1UTRUR0GzJpZfBCQ4xZl5-QB90uj40O/s400/DSC00121.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529389054332215714" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdU1rBc59m2cebfGeZZKJGMtp7KjHnuPsVf60mOxNGIlCQBHUneHZ0YMTpjYzzS8qPaKvt8fE2TT7nqW5EvveuuHupWKk9ym0KXpFaPzPKyJTpeyLY0purCWg4-aVnSVO0OMrwha9eswZ/s1600/DSC00120.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3JL7Hpj5FFfU8awb9_SgifXCjnkyrxpjdTyyfZVfascrbEWE966RW_Ny0r75YtWRZ7CQvfcmMkd1og6JOQ2-6ZJ8wbdA2U97nEfnYgrSsQRT31-YTKq1N6go3Ui_v6m4NO_Duzq0ff1SU/s400/DSC00116.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529385732365271890" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcjUkJqqd3HJPN2n4l-CZQ0WDlUT4E_czaHU6FRaP6mz2YRAPgVCk48skcWbniLoUD3GJ97-Geg28GLM6byEU79wnGC6Q0aGKYmnO25S1Ui8Eo8gJ1VkxbYNJtDJ7EeoYDXjoVBfsogzu/s1600/DSC00115.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzcjUkJqqd3HJPN2n4l-CZQ0WDlUT4E_czaHU6FRaP6mz2YRAPgVCk48skcWbniLoUD3GJ97-Geg28GLM6byEU79wnGC6Q0aGKYmnO25S1Ui8Eo8gJ1VkxbYNJtDJ7EeoYDXjoVBfsogzu/s400/DSC00115.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529385725101989170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhGLDkRQH-kEIV_pnWSMJdtl7aIUlNDKWCQ0cOIlaCcLlznsAhGdGewa5CSF5gVdzYPtaiemQgP90J4QEGQC1EPr8V4X-iAzu1FFxAA_86SzKel4yCunGrdLVULlcgYpDDoq8aubf2rjc/s1600/DSC00114.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhGLDkRQH-kEIV_pnWSMJdtl7aIUlNDKWCQ0cOIlaCcLlznsAhGdGewa5CSF5gVdzYPtaiemQgP90J4QEGQC1EPr8V4X-iAzu1FFxAA_86SzKel4yCunGrdLVULlcgYpDDoq8aubf2rjc/s400/DSC00114.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529385715877054354" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhtrzvT-nTWUkYayGERSaGulHqqwUpo0xU60fEIjRThbvwfz9yfI0Gzn1zjmI2SIzNttmnWvyrH_3Zw0qgfMX0ecvedOSOZE-pSUvIlv0J3Yar-6MTJo7I7brdir20oX0ZJg2zCqwXeti/s1600/DSC00113.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhtrzvT-nTWUkYayGERSaGulHqqwUpo0xU60fEIjRThbvwfz9yfI0Gzn1zjmI2SIzNttmnWvyrH_3Zw0qgfMX0ecvedOSOZE-pSUvIlv0J3Yar-6MTJo7I7brdir20oX0ZJg2zCqwXeti/s400/DSC00113.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529385711607297234" /></a><br /><br />Yesterday I was so ecstatic there was a large organic market going on all day in Piazza Santo Spirito, approximately a 30 second walk from my apartment! I initially discovered this news last week in a magazine I picked up at a health food store, which I had to decipher for an extended period of time in order to make sense of it. So when I showed up in Piazza Santo Spirito that morning I felt really 'in the know'. There was produce and plants, baked goods, preserved foods, spices and herbs, tinctures and creams, clothing, baskets, books, it was lovely. I spent all the cash I had left and got some fruits and veggies, artichoke (carciofi!) spread, honey, a blend of herbs for cooking, some alternative baked products and a calendula/aloe face cream. The market occurs every 3rd Sunday of the month so I'll definitely be plotting that in my schedule.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08mJK3hdf5vkg1NsSvDsHf2E43yxqCNyaSfDXegt18ez5v3Y0hubOOuwYIVZTZ_pw2jmXwuNc-i0fYohYse5SVuV2eJFM518Fjzr5Y_3KdUP98jpPABhCJReo0X2IVEF_9ufVYJRJLL13/s1600/DSC00110.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08mJK3hdf5vkg1NsSvDsHf2E43yxqCNyaSfDXegt18ez5v3Y0hubOOuwYIVZTZ_pw2jmXwuNc-i0fYohYse5SVuV2eJFM518Fjzr5Y_3KdUP98jpPABhCJReo0X2IVEF_9ufVYJRJLL13/s400/DSC00110.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529389063318546066" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgigvJx_Rd92_HJlLQcOwfE6Ks0pVB8fxnPvmulF207lPLAMhvmpuhZjcKD7ak5u0KYInXPIgnl0SfK6oqea0879UofF5nCvuKYD6XckJvuDIHjltSZw9ALradGTcbtDeAYR6YnSQTxg52/s1600/brac12_fotosabinabernacchini.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgigvJx_Rd92_HJlLQcOwfE6Ks0pVB8fxnPvmulF207lPLAMhvmpuhZjcKD7ak5u0KYInXPIgnl0SfK6oqea0879UofF5nCvuKYD6XckJvuDIHjltSZw9ALradGTcbtDeAYR6YnSQTxg52/s400/brac12_fotosabinabernacchini.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529395200973750882" /></a><br /><br />Also posted above are some pics from an awesome bookstore/restaurant I visited last week called Brac. Vegetarian! I read about it online but once I got to the address there was no sign so I hesitantly poked my head inside and skimmed the menu before sitting down in the courtyard. This place appeared to be occupied only by locals which I guess makes sense as tourist usually don't venture into unmarked restaurants. So even though I mostly spoke english with the waitress I liked pretending I was a local too. I grabbed a few Italian children's books to read and drank my herbal tea while I waited for lunch. <br /><br />One of the books was called 'La cosa piu` importante' (The thing most important) which was about different animals trying to decide what was the most important trait to have. The elephant said that a trunk was most important, the porcupine said spikes were most important, the duck said webbed feet were most important, and the all tried to figure out who was right. At the end, they all agreed that variety was most important. Very cute. It's fun being in the place of a kid again learning how to understand language, and being a visual person, reading books with fun illustrations helps. Although kids who start reading already understand spoken language and are learning the skill of reading, it's still about connecting the dots in your brain. For me I feel it's more closing gaps between many dots simultaneously which can feel a bit chaotic, but it's progress nonetheless.<br /><br />For 10 Euros, lunch was a choice of 3 dishes. I enjoyed my plate of insalata cruda (raw salad), insalata del villaggio (village salad) and tagliatelle con carciofi e spinachi (pasta with artichokes and spinach). Yum. I decided I needed to try authentic Italian pasta, and this was the place to do it alongside my good friends, the artichokes. <br /><br />Also posted below for my Dad and Papa are some pics from a car show I stumbled upon last week when on my way to the market. Also wanted to let people know (for those who don't already) that you can post comments to me if you're so inclined. At the bottom of each post, there's a little button '# comments'. Click it, type away, and click 'post comment'. Remember to write your name at the end (if you don't have an account) so I know who it's from! xoxo<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFoPK35Dh4tmfDhLHKgXT23SsHpkv3Qh5HSquBLWydysH6Wd3G48TROIToOTXGTYP8px6XVuq-Yk6jLx4QlDXWxbGZaBXTFP-_FrG_3tosVwG60f1uJDUFlbVW0HQn3Ds4NfGVoeGTmUr5/s1600/DSC00105.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFoPK35Dh4tmfDhLHKgXT23SsHpkv3Qh5HSquBLWydysH6Wd3G48TROIToOTXGTYP8px6XVuq-Yk6jLx4QlDXWxbGZaBXTFP-_FrG_3tosVwG60f1uJDUFlbVW0HQn3Ds4NfGVoeGTmUr5/s400/DSC00105.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529395217124495346" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQALP_6bSjQ4lpbPk5XRCQWtvjWRjgmnQLsJmr-Wizmmhhyphenhyphen-9nIugrASfWUo-l-gNf_ImSNuHGLu_1NhjM_WwTJL4ExCQXhczWImqkLe8EQ67DsAo0VRuRUkxLT7fmZu8D9itUmupMyHwj/s1600/DSC00108.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQALP_6bSjQ4lpbPk5XRCQWtvjWRjgmnQLsJmr-Wizmmhhyphenhyphen-9nIugrASfWUo-l-gNf_ImSNuHGLu_1NhjM_WwTJL4ExCQXhczWImqkLe8EQ67DsAo0VRuRUkxLT7fmZu8D9itUmupMyHwj/s400/DSC00108.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529395208614611954" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHprsIfyt032ehOBHGzIOSmPOtMkGkEfpDAXEdAxd2YxJOkgxerCCmYKkhvwShPbOsYJ_FFo7wFEYXU196HJ1jOvFpIw53bEoBRIbIdGv2K1X9L0xatnsjtex3X6AZtXcQD7t4myMXIzy6/s1600/DSC00107.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHprsIfyt032ehOBHGzIOSmPOtMkGkEfpDAXEdAxd2YxJOkgxerCCmYKkhvwShPbOsYJ_FFo7wFEYXU196HJ1jOvFpIw53bEoBRIbIdGv2K1X9L0xatnsjtex3X6AZtXcQD7t4myMXIzy6/s400/DSC00107.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529395209286754962" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-74848862726880297562010-10-17T11:54:00.000-07:002010-10-18T07:49:03.163-07:00Adventuring<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyT1CWT2eyIuOpFbhYQAMukyS_8LxbW4LqxkvT-qT9SDXxBmXCelS7cCtg17_i5pknT7ZbLX8NgLw6JmUuvvFDk7Z4zO798ZB8L5VWyYrSKAGvAdaFzHUrU6ProWXn-ae5L6ZNxk-Frtde/s1600/DSC00100.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyT1CWT2eyIuOpFbhYQAMukyS_8LxbW4LqxkvT-qT9SDXxBmXCelS7cCtg17_i5pknT7ZbLX8NgLw6JmUuvvFDk7Z4zO798ZB8L5VWyYrSKAGvAdaFzHUrU6ProWXn-ae5L6ZNxk-Frtde/s400/DSC00100.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529117836976218610" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfEz2SnT8HOPMrtS1iVoD58Kr259mvVgpM6UVZZyex8CFwr2FKHfcxc5AHcDbn8mOu0FmJIlM6_S83tXHPvU1XuJFFTJ-TbFCMvJ0k-TOxi6WoPxLtDnlqZLfOwPMJSxJcjciNf0T6_rRz/s1600/DSC00102.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfEz2SnT8HOPMrtS1iVoD58Kr259mvVgpM6UVZZyex8CFwr2FKHfcxc5AHcDbn8mOu0FmJIlM6_S83tXHPvU1XuJFFTJ-TbFCMvJ0k-TOxi6WoPxLtDnlqZLfOwPMJSxJcjciNf0T6_rRz/s400/DSC00102.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529117815606155778" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8PGllm7BJ_nqfDgKlZz72j1l8XEkLI4sgmaUnZIF2AN5cKVMstOlsT8lt05XJYnGh-GRnljQKH9Fk3WdAd9znbOygT2jflDiuWAqivrn0xBAbuP4UI_jcsjY5fl-vku0aFNObxmYDAYNX/s1600/DSC00078.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8PGllm7BJ_nqfDgKlZz72j1l8XEkLI4sgmaUnZIF2AN5cKVMstOlsT8lt05XJYnGh-GRnljQKH9Fk3WdAd9znbOygT2jflDiuWAqivrn0xBAbuP4UI_jcsjY5fl-vku0aFNObxmYDAYNX/s400/DSC00078.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529117819423935330" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpVPsZIf1Avr9vLtSNYnkDmHO7ynHnBmDPEBqzDRRp5rrIwN8jtF28WrXdgH7FReWkHKM20NPYZ-60rlgbzGdV9i5P98q8At2GAvqCZu-wV39-1vi4I_ETZeSPdMx6OvnwR0TvbrLAPeA/s1600/DSC00081.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpVPsZIf1Avr9vLtSNYnkDmHO7ynHnBmDPEBqzDRRp5rrIwN8jtF28WrXdgH7FReWkHKM20NPYZ-60rlgbzGdV9i5P98q8At2GAvqCZu-wV39-1vi4I_ETZeSPdMx6OvnwR0TvbrLAPeA/s400/DSC00081.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529117822176203122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRByfcCCzhhQcAoPfEg7hxU5mk3q8EM-eJiovgDPzmltt_EW8iXMCijLYHXtn1FWvKYHDAl3CX9Fzyfq-6tFHq7BcGUD75lW1NYPxc72igj-5nnioVgmyHKwotTOx2UOXPL61rsipB36ZE/s1600/DSC00075.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRByfcCCzhhQcAoPfEg7hxU5mk3q8EM-eJiovgDPzmltt_EW8iXMCijLYHXtn1FWvKYHDAl3CX9Fzyfq-6tFHq7BcGUD75lW1NYPxc72igj-5nnioVgmyHKwotTOx2UOXPL61rsipB36ZE/s400/DSC00075.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529117796391418274" /></a><br /><br />It's been 2 1/2 weeks since I've been here now. I've spent many days adventuring around the city, usually with some destination in mind, often a health food store, vegetarian restaurant or market. I think I've found them all now:) I've gone through 2 maps already because they fallen apart from such frequent usage. Although I'm proud to say that the other day I forgot to bring it with me and I didn't get lost. Not an easy feat in these ancient cities where perpendicular intersections are rare. My other adventures included taking the free bus to Ikea with my roomate, Rosie, so we could get a few things to spruce up our place. It was EXACTLY the same as the Ikeas in Toronto and Calgary. I was most excited about the 2 plants I got for my room. An aloe vera and a plant that looks like the top of a pineapple:)<br /><br />The apartment has been really cold although the temperature in the afternoons often reaches beyond 20 degrees celsius, the sun doesn't shine into our courtyard so it's often cooler inside than outside! I have at least 6 blankets on my bed and slept in a toque the other night lol! Apparently the Italians don't turn on the heat until November so I'll continue to bundle up for the next few weeks. Fortunately I've got skype working but in order to get a clear connection I need to be on Rosie's balcony, and being 6-8 hours ahead of Canada, it's quite chilly in the evenings when I'm out there. I've also been doing yoga and jumping rope (yes i brought one with me) in the mornings to warm up. I was looking to buy a yoga mat but annoyed one of the yoga schools was selling them for 30 Euros! So I kept looking but ended up buying a slab of sticky mat(to put under rugs)from a big roll at a hardware store! Haha, 7 Euros instead.<br /><br />I've also met up a few times with my mom's cousin's cousin(confusing I know), Martinho, who is an artist and instructor at one of the renaissance art schools in Florence. We had never met before but he invited me over to his apartment for tea, another day took me to check out an affordable Italian language school and just last night invited me for dinner with some of his friends and we ended up going out dancing after. His roommate claimed that it's obvious Martinho and I are related as we share a similar sense of humor, retorting with dry, witty comments as he saw it. <br /><br />Going home last night it was raining heavily and my boots are soaked! They'll definitely be out of commission for a few days. Very unfortunate when you only have 3 pairs of shoes with you. One of them is soaked and another is impractical for walking around, leaving my Converse, the obvious indication that I'm from North America:/ But they'll do. The other tricky thing is I'd like to do some laundry, but as Italians don't have clothing dryers (they hang them up on the line, so charming:) it will take the clothes a few days to dry in this temperature. Which is fine, except what will I wear in the meantime? I only brought one pair of pajamas... I'll figure it out but I'm trying to resist buying any more clothes (and shoes!) as I have so many in Canada. <br /><br />This week I've buckled down a bit and convinced myself to start painting. Sometimes it just takes a little push (or a big one) to get me started but I'm glad I did. I'm working on a set of 2 paintings I started in Toronto, paintings from my imagination, not Italian paintings, yet. It's been great painting on my terrace (or by the terrace windows when it's chilly) in the morning or afternoon. They're coming along nicely and I'll post them when they're done. I've also attended a few life drawing sessions at Rosie's art school and at the school where Martinho teaches. I had a hard time finding newsprint because the people in the stores didn't know what it was. All the other pads of paper were too expensive. I tried asking for 'carta giornale' (newspaper paper) and eventually someone knew what I was talking about and told me they call it 'carta riciclata' or recycled paper. <br /><br />I haven't visited any of the art museums yet as I just don't feel like paying the handsome entry fee, lining up with the tourists and dragging around indoors. Perhaps over the winter though. Instead I've been hitting the pavement and walking to all corners of the city. It's great that it's so walkable although most days I come home exhausted. The one somewhat tourist destination I visited was the botanical gardens, Orto Botanica, supposedly the oldest in the world. It was nice but a little expensive for what it was. However it was worth it to have some nature time as some areas of the city are a little too much enclosed in concrete and you forget that it's actually surrounded by beautiful green Tuscan hills. There is such an amazing view of these and all of Florence at Piazza Michelangelo which I hiked up to last weekend. Gorgeous. <br /><br />As for the language, I'm getting by, but yearning to be spouting off quick, colorful sentences like the locals as well as immediately understanding a clerk when they tell me the price of something, rather than repeating the numbers in my head while I pretend to dig through in my wallet. I plan to enroll at a language school soon where I'll be doing lessons for 2 hours at a time, a few days per week, for a few weeks. I've been spying an ad in the window of a restaurant/caffe in my neighborhood, looking for a waitress inglese (english). I'm considering applying for the job part-time, but feel I need to build a little more confidence in my Italian first, so we'll see if the timing works out. In the meantime, I've been working on my food vocabulary between reading labels at the health food stores, menus at the veggie restaurants, and an italian vegetarian cookbook I scored at the dollar store. I've also been asking for 'senza glutine' (gluten free) at the bakeries (with little luck) or senza latte (without milk) at the gelaterias. One of my favorite foods, both the word and the taste, is carciofi (carchee-OH-fee), artichokes! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlbzn7VgBJTG-MSycLqvqHq7wgeIdEwU3PeQ1XDJormL2zJHL5rA8I-6PtsmZ89o4fsydwKOubeCD7hh-f70rY0xySTXc4QNimwpNxpDpX8VrutbjxcDz7zoDjDYkPY0rCAlbd2PIf-gw/s1600/DSC00095.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlbzn7VgBJTG-MSycLqvqHq7wgeIdEwU3PeQ1XDJormL2zJHL5rA8I-6PtsmZ89o4fsydwKOubeCD7hh-f70rY0xySTXc4QNimwpNxpDpX8VrutbjxcDz7zoDjDYkPY0rCAlbd2PIf-gw/s400/DSC00095.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529121248876980258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg__d_BL12DL28MzyqVNHNWFgie8-cpDLw2O7pFgtkzdkNtlcKv_WPcK_LQffxkmXkHUo27Ry2tiIQVppUesTVnZEl7RhdXSsoYrZcufWX4JSacALIjz1l5WmjhsTvB7DI3p11tC5XKCntB/s1600/DSC00090.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6QxBWDE-BvPVMfDO65G1dlPcculiL9LykN_d5zBgr5nOTuUgbt0U8afc-SngRnZJflcUa1NKiWDRfOqNVCMtxqaMUuUdEpA5c53mSk57Wq_FMR9AIChNe9jfPdbQyb2KH9_N_xcU9eydW/s400/DSC00088.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529121224038635570" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusmEJgCbMCvYr5derm-IvFIsL2Re3zWXk83ZIzXxsiRK2IsboY5BKWZCk-0xIQO1HDzHxtalMEPbt0XDosWf_m0F-xwWFrhCr9CXbPpEfBGYolYFbb9pz-vJW-JQu40H3C6ZzuHtfZdi8/s1600/DSC00087.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusmEJgCbMCvYr5derm-IvFIsL2Re3zWXk83ZIzXxsiRK2IsboY5BKWZCk-0xIQO1HDzHxtalMEPbt0XDosWf_m0F-xwWFrhCr9CXbPpEfBGYolYFbb9pz-vJW-JQu40H3C6ZzuHtfZdi8/s400/DSC00087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529121218187029762" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-5512967477521965412010-10-10T03:52:00.001-07:002010-10-10T13:47:00.721-07:00My apartment<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCUdE3GTpqSnUzph4A5pMSc7NqJL_lEznYEeU_CqUsfdCWeFmBLFVG30YLg5rLVsoF90GLsoa9Q4z5McdWb262v2LrO9gJWTDQDqDuC3TsWd1hJpD61OG29xr67VaKpzLqrAV43FidmCX/s1600/DSC00056.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVzLr-UOaZ_aDgPuwSEMWLqx98f8epgUlALqzrkQpG0_rb7bW8saBiT9s0gJDA7DEknhfUFyx0PcX508jCNRgPIdE5GP9GIIwhH9uyZgbaERTw5yvtlfiJuBtcKnaQ8yX51zKitUnpV_rZ/s400/DSC00069.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526370101763924626" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7FZkX6dPqg8eiLiu_hSPYj6HXSsV2fgfFeHSJdil-vXbwT9_o36QkUGZvs5hOHCd3yIKGqxq7hiB_MYqCzjvJ8T_0c5f7uvDWptYWcG3qpK_tMdLj1L284eF2vA34jqFGk_fyJWPRYE5/s1600/DSC00074.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7FZkX6dPqg8eiLiu_hSPYj6HXSsV2fgfFeHSJdil-vXbwT9_o36QkUGZvs5hOHCd3yIKGqxq7hiB_MYqCzjvJ8T_0c5f7uvDWptYWcG3qpK_tMdLj1L284eF2vA34jqFGk_fyJWPRYE5/s400/DSC00074.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526370091028580322" /></a><br /><br />The morning of Sunday, Oct 3 I got up early to try numberous cards in numerous bank machines to try and get enough cash for first and last months rent on my new apartment. The banks were closed and I didn't want to venture all the way to the tourist centre to get hosed on cashing my traveller's cheques. After many attempts I had just enough cash on me and I packed up the rest of my things at the hostel. I checked out at 9:30 am and asked the staff to call me a taxi. As I waited I told them that I had managed to find an apartment the day before, to which they were really surprised and claimed I'd set a new record. I described where it was and they insisted it was the best location in Florence. I had suspicions that it was but now it was confirmed by the locals. An expensive taxi ride later I was waiting on the street in Piazza San Felice with all my luggage. I waited, and waited. The landlady was late. At least 20 mins later she showed up and let me into the apartment where we got things settled despite our communication difficulties. <br /><br />After unpacking I ventured out for awhile and returned to make some dinner. Shortly after my British roommate, Rosie, arrived and we got acquainted. That evening she took me out to a fancy bar, Colle Bereto, where some of her friends were meeting and I got my first taste of the Florentine night life. I slept great that night and woke up to church bells and the sun filtering through my terrace windows.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZljXOCkkbpK1rx3OZY8U-tXwC9XT4eP8uyW5OGMXvIoYLPJXXbCiOifmCo0EkY-MVBI_BzyBEWTGwKTn8wni3Kx8ferFevvZAzL88p4CCBxYmo1S6UlocUY2j7DvJiN75i7rU9AYN8Bd/s1600/DSC00029.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ZljXOCkkbpK1rx3OZY8U-tXwC9XT4eP8uyW5OGMXvIoYLPJXXbCiOifmCo0EkY-MVBI_BzyBEWTGwKTn8wni3Kx8ferFevvZAzL88p4CCBxYmo1S6UlocUY2j7DvJiN75i7rU9AYN8Bd/s400/DSC00029.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526519979949553650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi344oJk2LKmqqcf47HKpcmDEMUkRgBq0HhIZr9RmIionkzQvc2skA95LHGWE2pUk-FJ_Vvgifnf7_JBSyFWlU9fG1TzD0DbXrxZEWdon_8S59I7ZRs0GkLlnIx8QGMz0eazMScCJYPvBkH/s1600/DSC00026.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhf59qu9ekO3K_az_c8An5T-qOcGo181iOtPM8O95UTTlLodzrYU6UEJYY7I1M-diOQnokOrbjHZI0UmEH9m0OorW__EvrrcursqQur3u62ltZFr9_w7ae2FaHDpx6xv1Hpv9ayo4wmY3_/s400/DSC00028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526517466474018578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOH9YdaC1OuxRW6aoyI4G9qQdw_du37tKUWRwU1cqKVJjQQHLiaKaBQCYe5y-8LS_pff9NilBVt51iWkBdhqU3VaK6kUPO7Gv0t-_JOjEuNRJD7sUHG6NqIivl9GWfswrqpwkbECmUEEdn/s1600/DSC00033.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOH9YdaC1OuxRW6aoyI4G9qQdw_du37tKUWRwU1cqKVJjQQHLiaKaBQCYe5y-8LS_pff9NilBVt51iWkBdhqU3VaK6kUPO7Gv0t-_JOjEuNRJD7sUHG6NqIivl9GWfswrqpwkbECmUEEdn/s400/DSC00033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526519990723323618" /></a>jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-29507910821713508652010-10-09T05:27:00.001-07:002010-10-09T07:42:11.061-07:00The first day and finding an apartment<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqwHVh5WJfrmEDMODEWG0jWacrKQ09RxlyxuEDGMzltB5wnJcD3hZaJz12wREXyluDq63rMY6jeBjPzsF8qKkHxzzLs71GiMMFyIEBYtvBpSOYTurK6o1-JKFMJ2M9L9xLb_Du8Tp0CdM/s1600/DSC00004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqwHVh5WJfrmEDMODEWG0jWacrKQ09RxlyxuEDGMzltB5wnJcD3hZaJz12wREXyluDq63rMY6jeBjPzsF8qKkHxzzLs71GiMMFyIEBYtvBpSOYTurK6o1-JKFMJ2M9L9xLb_Du8Tp0CdM/s400/DSC00004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526025042823682658" border="0"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcY5Nad_mtVY3SW-I-mJLj30xrLmfZOmlw475O4BKnVm3Th1GEzQy6sn40KrGqdZ7qHRGPi_g_bXY25UWWZlSQSMxxkKSxPomNWtykp0HvCNkja8Zw2x6Ae3IZ0Oqywa10FX25yQYIlDQ0/s1600/DSC00005.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcY5Nad_mtVY3SW-I-mJLj30xrLmfZOmlw475O4BKnVm3Th1GEzQy6sn40KrGqdZ7qHRGPi_g_bXY25UWWZlSQSMxxkKSxPomNWtykp0HvCNkja8Zw2x6Ae3IZ0Oqywa10FX25yQYIlDQ0/s400/DSC00005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526049011168948898" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMdA55mspzI0yhqcNoV0RvXwwLj8WRgdNyBn5RyKSyw5F8NmSsQdhCqdHatj6I5nHz-Jwyi8kKxgWG63uAOESbAoPcI4azvVymIMJaEg_UgWWfMujia8KThPClMRKslCOzdOiP84IIIS5I/s1600/DSC00007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMdA55mspzI0yhqcNoV0RvXwwLj8WRgdNyBn5RyKSyw5F8NmSsQdhCqdHatj6I5nHz-Jwyi8kKxgWG63uAOESbAoPcI4azvVymIMJaEg_UgWWfMujia8KThPClMRKslCOzdOiP84IIIS5I/s400/DSC00007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526049016156146642" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJRL5Ojv06ZNoYA06MvyTD-dovBrMfRGfsI6oRwWpaXqyhCntz2OlD3zpzveEU0oAzkm1n-W5HZPt2jKYdehe1nF7f0gwQMRD-Gk5oCu8zvi3eedbkxczZVhrMbdDoEn_-fq7ANWH8AIQ/s1600/DSC00008.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJRL5Ojv06ZNoYA06MvyTD-dovBrMfRGfsI6oRwWpaXqyhCntz2OlD3zpzveEU0oAzkm1n-W5HZPt2jKYdehe1nF7f0gwQMRD-Gk5oCu8zvi3eedbkxczZVhrMbdDoEn_-fq7ANWH8AIQ/s400/DSC00008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526049022730678994" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaC6HdSpZfcZIhLz8EyDzBq448CxMi4P3dt695jPVRcw9xbNx-FrovO-h_yekyw38KbH-4fslq_I2mzrgo9vX_yV1D-qfLgBuHIOZkDzKY7pkkSoZTJpH8_qQxEebBMa3GCW9vsBDAAwWP/s1600/DSC00015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaC6HdSpZfcZIhLz8EyDzBq448CxMi4P3dt695jPVRcw9xbNx-FrovO-h_yekyw38KbH-4fslq_I2mzrgo9vX_yV1D-qfLgBuHIOZkDzKY7pkkSoZTJpH8_qQxEebBMa3GCW9vsBDAAwWP/s400/DSC00015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526049031497190866" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuYG6zMjJoL6hOl_zDp-blgWA6UI8lYpZHYHgEwdWsejvZskjgldfbcgYwZEFSfaBDGK4xMVZNYgD_EFnI4FBOzHc6iWmKzWz6GWLvN8TX76vjA3uhtZ9KY_yG-AYnpcPgxBnN3EiS765S/s1600/DSC00012.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuYG6zMjJoL6hOl_zDp-blgWA6UI8lYpZHYHgEwdWsejvZskjgldfbcgYwZEFSfaBDGK4xMVZNYgD_EFnI4FBOzHc6iWmKzWz6GWLvN8TX76vjA3uhtZ9KY_yG-AYnpcPgxBnN3EiS765S/s400/DSC00012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526049025566229970" /></a><br /><br />I had such a good sleep the night after my arrival. I woke up that morning Saturday, Oct 2 feeling energized and ready to experience Florence despite having to wear the same outfit from the days previous. I stopped by the nearby supermarket I spied from the taxi the night before and was plunged into busy Italian life. I grabbed some water, fruit and almonds(organic!)for breakfast and resisted temptations to look at all the foreign things on the shelves. After eating I asked the woman at the front desk of the hostel for advice on finding an apartment in the city. She couldn't really help me but at least she was able to show me where the library was located. I set out on the streets of Florence sightseeing and apartment hunting at the same time. I struggled to ask the newspaper vendor for the classified ads magazine, by saying 'voglio vedere appartmenti?' (i want to see apartments?) and gesturing lists. Once we understood each other I paid him 2 Euros and poured through the Florence apartment and room rentals (in Italian...)in La Pulce, circling potential ads, especially ones with balconies or terraces:)<br /><br />After walking quite some distance I realized I was walking in the opposite direction I thought I was, and I asked a nice old man with a child for directions. 'Scusa. Dove` ____?' (Excuse me. Where is __(the street name)__?'). From there I figured out where I was on the map and headed in the direction I had originally intended. I walked around with chills and tears as I encountered the familiar sights of Florence which I hadn't seen in 5 years. So beautiful! A man was playing music in front of Uffizi, it seemed so magical. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTA-wkHjLA-0ybYsn6rt3Ix73kXK1qRXrlMXDuGe4oePpXamlLvDUVBxGKnORV2zjClyb6RK71oBYLzPTt_CQkH7dWackk2YIOVxgLwRqXCqXJJHFbY0NOTm9oIBFANdB3KFu22PytPz-q/s1600/DSC00016.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTA-wkHjLA-0ybYsn6rt3Ix73kXK1qRXrlMXDuGe4oePpXamlLvDUVBxGKnORV2zjClyb6RK71oBYLzPTt_CQkH7dWackk2YIOVxgLwRqXCqXJJHFbY0NOTm9oIBFANdB3KFu22PytPz-q/s400/DSC00016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526052677724960050" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmBkIIXG4tqNzsGjsj9dOamy5v5dda5XtO9bsL8bX8V3nTQ-Hq7uLM2FumefBEZfoTw7lcUvs_U9TTAB8y1TCszP2kKsyx5gFDxUQsddbh3mo6nx9kTNm10MxS70JnRnniZXURjq7OX28/s1600/DSC00018.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmBkIIXG4tqNzsGjsj9dOamy5v5dda5XtO9bsL8bX8V3nTQ-Hq7uLM2FumefBEZfoTw7lcUvs_U9TTAB8y1TCszP2kKsyx5gFDxUQsddbh3mo6nx9kTNm10MxS70JnRnniZXURjq7OX28/s400/DSC00018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526052689277219074" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuX7RX_B1G4X0t_Xp4tuM2O3lUN_eeCfa7ymPYtJ-NsFLfUt1YOPTuHookC0QhVH_JlcNaodRvOhW_Z52xXn9382d1LQWfSoD2Y14fQAh0jDz4UxYqnEyA4EQsL2G1jNdDieZfTK7x3Bo/s1600/DSC00017.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuX7RX_B1G4X0t_Xp4tuM2O3lUN_eeCfa7ymPYtJ-NsFLfUt1YOPTuHookC0QhVH_JlcNaodRvOhW_Z52xXn9382d1LQWfSoD2Y14fQAh0jDz4UxYqnEyA4EQsL2G1jNdDieZfTK7x3Bo/s400/DSC00017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526052684583752098" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLzF0-333NhlhcKRiUqpKMt7vwtBueKWjKjqT1elOvy95NNLZJw8Ku2EXOHXv4s0brc449BniDnEZspTMPiA0Vw5Ho6RnGI6ugeHrm8Hq1tccdkyJlg2SY3FOeveW-kctxkrr0sl1PuGl/s1600/DSC00021.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdLzF0-333NhlhcKRiUqpKMt7vwtBueKWjKjqT1elOvy95NNLZJw8Ku2EXOHXv4s0brc449BniDnEZspTMPiA0Vw5Ho6RnGI6ugeHrm8Hq1tccdkyJlg2SY3FOeveW-kctxkrr0sl1PuGl/s400/DSC00021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526052691559266738" /></a><br /><br /><br />From there I passed by the Duomo and saw a stand selling fresh fruit smoothies and stopped for some more nourishment. I found the library shortly after and tore a bunch of numbers for apartment room rentals, a few in English from bulletins in the courtyard. Before heading inside though I decided to pass by the street I lived on in 2005 for 1 month which was nearby. Just as I remembered it:) In taking a connecting street I found a caffe that said the words 'vegetarian' and 'vegan' in the window, so of course I had to go in and investigate. I ended up with a salad and soup, both vegan, although the salad had organic spelt(gluten!)which I decided to try anyway. As well I had a blend of herbal tea, 7 fiore (7 flowers). <br /><br />After eating I asked the woman at the counter for any advice apartment hunting but she said she couldn't give me any and said I needed to deal with an agency. I sensed some political issues she didn't want to get involved with. So I thanked her anyway and headed back to the library, already feeling a bit fuzzy in my head, the effects of gluten unfortunately:( I asked the librarian if there was free internet and she said there was if you had a library card, but I couldn't get a library card until I have an address. So I asked if there was a telephone instead and she sent me over to the hospital across the street where I found a pay phone in the corridor. <br /><br />I made a few calls to the number's I had taken and finally got through to one of them. I managed to speak in Italian that I wanted to see the apartment for rent and she asked 'quando?' (when?) and I said 'subito' (right away). Then she proceeded to give me the buzzer name, but I couldn't figure out what it meant. I kept asking 'che campanella?' (what's campanella?) but she kept repeating 'Signora Toriti', so I wrote it down anyway and set off to the address on the ad. On the way it dinged on me! Campanile is a bell tower, so campanella must mean the doorbell? Sure enough at the address one of the bell listings was 'Signora Toriti'. <br /><br />From there the woman showed me a lovely apartment in a great location near San Lorenzo market, but when it came down to details things got tricky. I realized I spoke Italian better than she spoke English so it was up to me. She spoke a LOT which didn't help. Anyway, we managed to figure out that she would rent it for a minimum of 6 mese (months) for 600 Euros. For me this was too much. The ad said 300 Euros but that's because there's 2 beds in the bedroom, so for a couple, 300 each. I asked to rent for just one month but she said no. So it's all good, I carried on my way. I questioned if I could afford it but since that didn't include expenses I knew I didn't want to over extend myself. Plus part of me preferred to have a roommate so I wouldn't be all alone in a new city. <br /><br />Proud that I'd managed to communicate, I called up a few other Italian numbers but didn't have so much luck. One was frustrated with the difficult communication and hung up, many didn't answer, and one who spoke English wouldn't be able to show the apartment until Monday. I figured my next move was to use the internet to look at English ads on craigslist and ventured back to the hostel to buy an internet card. I jotted down the potential ads and called up my first choice on skype. The key word on this ad was definitely 'terrace'. <br /><br />The woman answered and I told her I was interested in the room, she asked if I was a student which I said I wasn't, and she said the landlord only wanted to rent to students but that I could come look at it anyway and perhaps we could work something out. From there I hit the pavement again, asking for directions before leaving the hostel to ensure I wouldn't take the wrong street this time. I also remembered to ask if my luggage had shown up as it was expected today, to which the guy said no followed by something sarcastic like 'supposed to, yah right'.<br /><br />Since the doorbell didn't work in the building, the woman was waiting in her window overlooking the piazza. She let me in and took me to the apartment with a BIG terrace connected to the bedroom. I LOVED. The other room in the apartment was rented to a previous tenant, Rosie, who she spoke well of and would be arriving the following day. She said that she was helping the woman who owned the building because she didn't speak English and that if I wanted it, she would just tell her I was a student at Dante Alighieri Italian School, no big deal. She said she herself wasn't a student but the landlady allowed her to live there because she liked her. So...I said if she thought it was okay, I agreed. It's not a total lie as I will likely be studying Italian at A school here, although I'm not signed up anywhere yet. Immediately we met the landlady on the street and made arrangements to move in the next morning,and pay first and last months rent at 10am as I had to be out of my hostel at 9:30am. <br /><br />I left feeling great and excited to have a place of my own in Florence. I wandered a bit before landing at a restaurant in Piazza Santo Spirito nearby to treat myself to a nice dinner. I had a mixed salad (insalata mista) followed by the zucchini risotto with CHEESE. I contemplated asking then to leave out the cheese, but figured I'd try it and see how it went. It was delicious, however not worth the trouble in the following days, I'll try to avoid that situation again:S As I was solo, they sat 2 nice Polish women with me. We chatted about traveling and food and they gave me a few names of nice cities in Poland to see if I visit. After having asking for the bill many times and being forgotten about, I paid inside and then headed back in the direction of my hostel, stopping to watch a street concert on the way. A few guys setup in a tiny dead end street singing popular English and American songs. The singer has a really good voice and managed to pull off a pretty good cover of Yellow by Coldplay. <br /><br />I made it back to the hostel and started preparing my things to head out the next morning. Then hanging up my coat I noticed in the corner of the room, it had arrived.....my luggage.jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5646452091179427594.post-28906400050828743282010-10-09T01:21:00.000-07:002010-10-09T03:10:27.535-07:00My Arrival in Florence<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUw3iydv5CwICKFUAQqjJKFmGw3FudxpDWNfgwjeZ__o-OdO7rPM6Ruk5U6mmtFi4wtqmJWJKEMVSX76A1px6evZ4GL60JTU3SMwRwHqvrLOzm1L3_IpmzhjzYqzF5u77ALwRJOTjYez9X/s1600/DSC00003.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUw3iydv5CwICKFUAQqjJKFmGw3FudxpDWNfgwjeZ__o-OdO7rPM6Ruk5U6mmtFi4wtqmJWJKEMVSX76A1px6evZ4GL60JTU3SMwRwHqvrLOzm1L3_IpmzhjzYqzF5u77ALwRJOTjYez9X/s400/DSC00003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525984635786656130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOxZ4PVYkuX0Uo58-UBHh1mANJDXduFZBLFXtfpdkC6QVyFGP-JIp6KWN_VACqnrzBrWOLiwN-QDEWL9wgxg8lUh1c7oUYOEldjzKiJi6ZSk6LUquZXiXd1AZ91Td6robp9U7R-LjlP1C/s1600/DSC00002.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOxZ4PVYkuX0Uo58-UBHh1mANJDXduFZBLFXtfpdkC6QVyFGP-JIp6KWN_VACqnrzBrWOLiwN-QDEWL9wgxg8lUh1c7oUYOEldjzKiJi6ZSk6LUquZXiXd1AZ91Td6robp9U7R-LjlP1C/s400/DSC00002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525984308494708962" /></a><br /><br />Pictures at the airport in Munich. The washrooms beside my gate and the Italian Caffe. <br /><br /><br />On Sept 30th I got on a plane from Toronto to Brussels with what was to be a 4 hour layover followed by a 2 hour flight to Florence, arriving 2pm on Oct 1. That didn't happen! Firstly when checking in my luggage there was some difficulty as many of the airlines, including Jet Airways with whom I was flying, now only accept 1 piece of checked luggage when flying to Europe! As I had become aware of this I called in weeks ago to verify but was pleasantly told that as I was proceeding on a connection to Florence I would be permitted 2 pieces of checked luggage. Luckily the manager let me slide through after my explanation but I did need to remove 7kgs from my suitcases as they were an unacceptable weight. 7kgs! Goodbye to my extra shoes, jewelery, superfoods, all so I could keep my precious immersion blender with me. I sent a couple of laundry bags of stuff back with Firas (thank you!!). I was still to be charged for one of my bags overweight (as I was now within the acceptable limit, but above the free zone)however the man forgot. I really lucked out:)<br /><br />While we were going through this ordeal I was approached by a woman from Jet Airways as the flight was overbooked and they wanted to send me on a flight to Florence, connecting in Paris, with Air Canada and I would be compensated with 400 Euro credit with Jet. A pretty good deal! This flight didn't leave Toronto until a few hours later but that wasn't the issue, the issue was- my 2 suitcases. She bounced back and forth numerous times between Air Canada and us trying to get this arrangement to work but as they also only accept 1 piece of checked luggage, she wasn't able to get them to make an exception for me. Although she offered 300$ US Cash instead of the 400 Euro voucher so I could pay for the extra baggage upfront. Feeling like it was just creating too many issues, and not worth the tiny bit of cash that would be leftover, I turned her down and proceeded with my original plan. Toronto to Brussels, 4 hour layover, 2 hours to Florence. The plan that I'd scheduled at least 6 weeks ago. <br /><br />Goodbyes with Firas were tough, feeling so many emotions at once, but I proceeded through security with tears as it was getting close to my flight time. My bags were meticulously picked apart as they were also quite densely packed. My purse, my laptop bag with my laptop and it's peripherals, and my large carry on bag. All, picked, apart, meticulously. Then they took away my precious blender attachment. I admit I shouldn't have packed it in my carry on. That tiny blade encased around a metal shield could really hurt someone??? Darn. They said I could mail it to myself but I didn't have time. They said I could send it back with someone but I was pretty sure Firas had left as I had been out of view for quite some time. Plus I didn't want to do that to him all for the sake of my blender attachment. So I let it go, I had bigger things to think about. I rushed off to my gate, also having to abandon a device much like a pencil sharpener for veggies, it cuts carrots and zucchinis into lovely ribbons. Perhaps I'll find another one one day. <br /><br />So, all was well, I got on my plane, sat in my window seat, although I though I had requested an aisle. When the guy sitting next to me was chatting with a woman a few rows ahead, in an aisle seat, I took the opportunity to offer a seat switch:) So I ended up getting the aisle seat I wanted afterall(I like to be able to get up for easy bathroom trips;)but once I sat down the Indian man sitting next to me was offering up his window seat, he wanted the aisle! I told him perhaps we'd switch later, and that's what happened the first time he wanted out, because I was drifting to sleep and didn't want to be bothered again. I drifted in and out of light sleep for the first couple hours until....the message that we would be turning back to land in Newfoundland for someone having a medical emergency on board. Yes, we were part way over the ocean when we had to turn back. After the paramedics came in to take the person, we sat on the ground for at least 2 hours, refueling and I don't know what else. It was boiling hot on the plane for some reason and everyone was in a bit of commotion, there was no way I could sleep it off. So I ate my fruit plate that I was saving for when my digestive system was back on earth and turned on the Godfather to focus on what was ahead. Once we got back up in the air, I drifted in and out of consciousness. I was aware there was a chance I'd miss my connecting flight but I decided not to worry about it and deal with it when it was time. Once I got off the plane I was instructed by Jet to go see Brussels Airlines as they were the ones who issued the connecting ticket. <br /><br />I started my journey. 3 heavy bags slung around me for a long walk to the other side of the airport, one more scrupulous trip through security and a stop for a fresh cucumber, fennel, parsely, pear juice at Helixer (thanks for being healthy, Brussels!). I managed to find a Brussels Airlines attendant but was told they couldn't help me, that I needed to go back to Jet Airways....what??? I stopped at one other customer service desk where they verified this and gave me vague instructions on where to go. To which I replied 'does that mean I have to exit security??'. Argh, it did. So, my back breaking I trollied back through the airport and ended up in the baggage area, when it occurred to me, what's going to happen to my checked luggage?? So I asked someone and they called in my baggage numbers as they were in limbo somewhere. He said in the meantime I could go talk to Jet. This gave me some prickles though as I was worried about squeaking by the 1 bag check rule, unlikely this would happen again... <br /><br />Anyhow I managed to find the Jet desk and eavesdropped as the attendant helped another couple whose destination was also Florence. There was an option tonight through Munich or a direct flight in the morning... I was helped by the other attendant, and I explained I needed to check with my hostel as they didn't normally accept check ins after 7:30pm. I called them as soon as the phone at the Jet desk stopped ringing incessantly and confirmed that they would check me in at 9:30pm when I arrived for an extra fee of 20 Euros....sure. So they set me up for the flight that night and I told her about my bags and how I didn't want to check them again because of the bag limit issues. She called down and muttered something like, 'hopefully there's enough time' and then handed me a paper sent me to line #8 without much other instruction. <br /><br />So there I was, standing in a huge line #8, not really knowing what time it was or what time my flight was, and I started to wonder....was I really in the right line?? I scoured the paper she had given me for clues, but all I found under airline was LH. Could that mean Lufthansa? If it did, then I was NOT in the right line. But if I WAS in the right spot I couldn't risk leaving as the line had extended substantially behind me already. I called over a boy pushing carts and asked him if he knew, he didn't. But I asked him to send over a person from the Lufthansa booth adjacent. They verified I WAS in the wrong line and helped me over to their booth where there was NO line. However, they told me my flight was leaving soon. I asked the woman if perhaps I should just reschedule for the flight in the morning as I didn't want to risk missing it. She assured me it was better to get the flight tonight as tomorrow was Saturday and it would be much busier, and I would be ok. So I trucked back down to security, feeling nervous about being short on time and having all my bags be scoured yet AGAIN. <br /><br />Being proactive, I observed the line choices and picked the same one I was in earlier, thinking perhaps they'd recognize me and let me breeze through. Then I though again and changed to the line which seemed to be moving faster. This was a wise choice. I plunked all my stuff into trays, at this point I'm an expert in organizing them optimally into 8 trays. Took off my boots, my coats (I was wearing 2 because there was no space left in my suitcases), and put a smile on my face. For some reason in Brussels I still beeped in the metal detector, I couldn't figure out why as I didn't in Toronto, perhaps the tiny hooks on my bra? So I got ready for the pat down. As I did so, they flagged 2 of my bags for inspection and put them aside. After the pat down, no one was waiting to inspect my bags, so I took my opportunity for freedom. Pretending ignorance, I grabbed my bags and walked calmly to the escalator, half expecting to be chased down. But I was home free, thank you!! <br /><br />I made it to the gate, got on the plane, desperately jammed my bags into the tiny spaces vacant in the overhead bin, and slept the 1 hour flight to Munich. Once landed I navigated my way to the next gate, thinking it was going to be a rush also (there were no times printed on my tickets!), but I made there plenty early and took the opportunity to slow down. Drank some water in a cafe ran by Italians! They saw me carrying my passport and started speaking in Italian. After all that drama, my brain was def not working in Italian so I explained my situation in English. They told me I needed to learn Italian. I agreed:)<br /><br />The 1 hour flight to Florence was pleasant also and once landed I stood and waited at the baggage carousel, and waited, and waited. Well, at least I made it to Florence, even though my bags didn't. I followed up at the baggage desk and gave them my information. They said my bags would be delivered the next day and they gave me an 'overnight kit'. Exhausted, I proceeded outside and waited for a taxi, showed him my paper for the hostel and requested 'questo indrizzio' (this address), and soaked in the nighttime streets of Florence as he zig zagged through the streets. I checked in at the hostel and although was tempted to look around Florence a bit, I knew after my 24hour trip it was best to get a good sleep for the next day, so I crashed in my single room with a blocked window (how deceiving). Realizing I didn't have any pj's I peeked into my 'overnight kit' and found a huge t-shirt. Perfect. I took a shower, put on the t-shirt and went to bed, waking up.........in Florence!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!jenniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12873860826137712599noreply@blogger.com0