Sorry... I'm back. I ended up staying in Trento a day longer than I expected. The scenery was gorgeous, and I met a girl at breakfast the day I was supposed to leave who talked me in to going hiking with her. OK, she didn't really have to try that hard to convince me, since I really WANTED to go hiking anyway, but... So we took a gondola up the side of a mountain and hiked through a tiny picturesque village and up a trail.
We had a classic "language barrier"moment while trying to find the entry place for the gondola... we knew from the map that it was supposed to be more or less where we were standing, so we walked in to a shop and said in our very limited Italian "Where is the gondola". The nice lady pointed around the corner and said many things we couldn't understand, but we thought we had an idea of where to go. We headed off around the corner, walked about a block, and realized we could now see the gondola cables... leading back to where we had just come from. Turns out the gondola entrance was immediately behind the shop we had stopped in, and the lady thought we were asking where the gondola went to. Given that we were about 5 yards from the entrance, I can understand her confusion.
Anyway, we found the gondola, went up the mountain, hiked up and up and up a hill, and just when it seemed like we were never going to hit the top of the trail, we walked in to a clearing overlooking the whole valley below and the incredible mountain ranges beyond it. That was clearly the spot for a picnic, so we unloaded our wine and cheese and avocado and dug in. I kept laughing the whole time; it didn't feel real. Trento was my perfect little Italian village: there were no tourists, almost no English speakers, and the whole town looked exactly like I had hoped Italy would look, but was afraid I wouldn't actually find. I'm really glad I had the nice nature break before heading off to Rome; when you go through big city after big city, they start to all feel the same.
So, now I'm in Rome, where I've been since the 15th. It's huge and crazy, kind of like I expected. Two little things of particular interest to me: first, every Italian stove comes with an extra small burner that is perfectly sized to the small home-brew espresso pots that everyone has. Seriously. Every Italian stove. Tiny burner.
Secondly, they tell you which side of the metro opens for which stop. I didn't understand why this was so important until I tried to ride the metro at rush hour. You have to start making your way from one side of the train to the other (this is one side to the other, not one end, so we're talking a distance of maybe 10 feet at the most) two stops before you get off. It is literally a crush of people. An You-don't-need-to-hold-the-hand-rails-because-the-people-around-you-are-supporting-you-kind of-crush.
Lastly, I keep hearing about how hot Italian guys are, but I have yet to spot any. Maybe if they'd take off their god-awful oversized, mirror-finish wrap around shades so I could actually see their eyes, it would help.
Anyway, I'm off to Florence tomorrow. I'll be there two nights, and then I head to Nice for about 4 hours before taking a night train to Bordeaux. I'm down to crunch time. That's all for now, folks.
Oh, and I've been staying with my aunt in Rome, who was sent here by her yoga organization to start a yoga school in Rome. So three cheers for a free room and an awesome yoga class this evening -- the first one in... god, 4 or 5 years? But don't worry, no weird healing crystals or magnet therapy, I promise. Just stretching and breathing. :-D
Oh, and as a final P.S. - there was a serious accident in the Rome metro this morning. I didn't get out of the house until well after it occured, so I'm OK, and don't worry if you happen to read about it.
We had a classic "language barrier"moment while trying to find the entry place for the gondola... we knew from the map that it was supposed to be more or less where we were standing, so we walked in to a shop and said in our very limited Italian "Where is the gondola". The nice lady pointed around the corner and said many things we couldn't understand, but we thought we had an idea of where to go. We headed off around the corner, walked about a block, and realized we could now see the gondola cables... leading back to where we had just come from. Turns out the gondola entrance was immediately behind the shop we had stopped in, and the lady thought we were asking where the gondola went to. Given that we were about 5 yards from the entrance, I can understand her confusion.
Anyway, we found the gondola, went up the mountain, hiked up and up and up a hill, and just when it seemed like we were never going to hit the top of the trail, we walked in to a clearing overlooking the whole valley below and the incredible mountain ranges beyond it. That was clearly the spot for a picnic, so we unloaded our wine and cheese and avocado and dug in. I kept laughing the whole time; it didn't feel real. Trento was my perfect little Italian village: there were no tourists, almost no English speakers, and the whole town looked exactly like I had hoped Italy would look, but was afraid I wouldn't actually find. I'm really glad I had the nice nature break before heading off to Rome; when you go through big city after big city, they start to all feel the same.
So, now I'm in Rome, where I've been since the 15th. It's huge and crazy, kind of like I expected. Two little things of particular interest to me: first, every Italian stove comes with an extra small burner that is perfectly sized to the small home-brew espresso pots that everyone has. Seriously. Every Italian stove. Tiny burner.
Secondly, they tell you which side of the metro opens for which stop. I didn't understand why this was so important until I tried to ride the metro at rush hour. You have to start making your way from one side of the train to the other (this is one side to the other, not one end, so we're talking a distance of maybe 10 feet at the most) two stops before you get off. It is literally a crush of people. An You-don't-need-to-hold-the-hand-rails-because-the-people-around-you-are-supporting-you-kind of-crush.
Lastly, I keep hearing about how hot Italian guys are, but I have yet to spot any. Maybe if they'd take off their god-awful oversized, mirror-finish wrap around shades so I could actually see their eyes, it would help.
Anyway, I'm off to Florence tomorrow. I'll be there two nights, and then I head to Nice for about 4 hours before taking a night train to Bordeaux. I'm down to crunch time. That's all for now, folks.
Oh, and I've been staying with my aunt in Rome, who was sent here by her yoga organization to start a yoga school in Rome. So three cheers for a free room and an awesome yoga class this evening -- the first one in... god, 4 or 5 years? But don't worry, no weird healing crystals or magnet therapy, I promise. Just stretching and breathing. :-D
Oh, and as a final P.S. - there was a serious accident in the Rome metro this morning. I didn't get out of the house until well after it occured, so I'm OK, and don't worry if you happen to read about it.
posted by Kristal at 2:11 PM
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