You know how you can tell? Ask me what I ate for dinner. Every time I'm by myself, it's completely random. Tonight, I had an entire container of brown button mushrooms (sauteed) and a hunk of cheese.
Luckily I have something to distract me - we're planning a long weekend in Vienna! The guidebook has me really excited. Baby steps to November 1st.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
The World Doesn't Eat Chocolate Chip Cookies
I made a couple batches of chocolate chip cookies for two of my school friends with birthdays this week. I figured there was a chance they had never tasted them before, but Ryan thought that was ridiculous.
One of the friends was Italian, and no, he had never tried them. But he loved them, and so did his friends, who told me they all had birthdays next week.
The other friend was German, and she was very excited when I told her the bag contained chocolate chip cookies. "You know what they are," I asked her. To which she promptly said, "yes! They sell them at Subway." I thought that was hysterical.
One of the friends was Italian, and no, he had never tried them. But he loved them, and so did his friends, who told me they all had birthdays next week.
The other friend was German, and she was very excited when I told her the bag contained chocolate chip cookies. "You know what they are," I asked her. To which she promptly said, "yes! They sell them at Subway." I thought that was hysterical.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Glenn Came to Visit!
Actually, he came to work, but we managed to get some good face time (in both Lugano and Milan). Here we are having dinner at home with two of Ryan's friends from work, who were able to teach Glenn LOTS Of colorful phrases in Italian. People of Memphis, you have been warned.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Elba Island
Over the weekend we were in Florence, we decided to try for a mini vacation. I had originally wanted to go to Southern Italy, but didn’t realize how far away we still were. Elba was only a 2-3 hour bus/train ride, plus an hour ferry. It seemed easy enough. The problem, though, was not having internet. We decided we would get up early on Saturday, pack, then find an internet café, book a hotel, and head to the train station to catch the bus. We were given tips about where to stay on the island from people at school, so we felt somewhat prepared. We were wrong!
None of the internet cafes were open before 9:00. We didn’t know this, so we walked around for an hour (bags in hand) trying to find an exception. There were none, but we did come across a travel agency, so we went in to see if they could help. They didn’t book in Elba. At this point it was 9:00 and the bus we needed to take left at 10:00, so we decided to switch gears and get the tickets. Ryan thought we had passed a place that looked like a bus depot at some point that morning, so off we went. It wasn’t the right place. Frustration set in big time. It had been over an hour, we had tried many doors that weren't open, and couldn't get help from those that were. We started to walk home and call it quits. I am not the most spontaneous person, which is why this next part might come as a big surprise (it did to me). I figured we could get bus ticket inforomation from the train station, but accepted the fact that the hotel situation might not be so easy. So I asked Ryan, "how comfortable would you be going to Elba without a hotel?" I didn't even know how comfortable I would be in that situation! But apparently I was looking for his opinion. We turned around and headed for the train station.
The train station didn't sell bus tickets, but they did tell us where we could buy them. The train station did, however, have another travel agency. That didn't book in Elba. So, we walked VERY quickly to the bus depot, and bought tickets. I saw another travel agency at the entrance, so Ryan and I split up. Their computers were down! This was getting borderline ridiculous, but we still had 20 minutes, so we decided to push forward. Tickets in hand, we started walking the streets. We hit another travel agency. They only booked with one hotel in Elba, which was full. They also told us that it was very crowded this time of year, and that they would not, if they were us, go without a hotel reservation. This place had an internet cafe about two doors down. It was our last shot.
These internet places take your ID when you use their computers, and this guy was entering Ryan's information with the ever efficient hunt and peck method. If you looked closely, you could actually see the steam coming out of our ears. We finally got a computer, and started furiously searching properties. The only one in our designated area was $400. At this point, we gave up again. We were going to chuck the bus tickets we just bought, and call it a day (again). And again, I pipe up! "What about Trip Advisor!!!" We decide to give it a try, at exactly 9:50. And we found a place! We wondered if we'd have time to book, but it worked - we had a hotel! We tried printing the receipt, and nothing happened. I start entering the confirmation codes into the phone as Ryan's asking the tortoise behind the desk if he could help us with the printer. We get it printed! And RUN to the bus station like crazy people. When we're actually in our seats, we both can't really believe we're on our way. Even typing this story makes my heart race.
Elba was worth it. As soon as we got settled, we headed for the beach. By the time we arrived, the only space left was on a rock beach, which really isn't comfortable. It was gorgeous, though, so you had a lot to distract you. The next morning, we got up really early and rented an umbrella and chairs at the one sand beach we could find. That was the best day - we sat and read in those chairs for hours, which is exactly what we want from a beach vacation. The scenery reminded of us Cinque Terre, and the water was just as cold. The towns were much bigger,though, and really came alive at night. Everyone was outside, couples were holding hands, kids were on bikes, all the shops were open... it was a great little vacation.
Bonus - while riding the ferry, we passed Montecristo Island. If you're an Alexandre Dumas fan, this would be a pretty exciting moment.
None of the internet cafes were open before 9:00. We didn’t know this, so we walked around for an hour (bags in hand) trying to find an exception. There were none, but we did come across a travel agency, so we went in to see if they could help. They didn’t book in Elba. At this point it was 9:00 and the bus we needed to take left at 10:00, so we decided to switch gears and get the tickets. Ryan thought we had passed a place that looked like a bus depot at some point that morning, so off we went. It wasn’t the right place. Frustration set in big time. It had been over an hour, we had tried many doors that weren't open, and couldn't get help from those that were. We started to walk home and call it quits. I am not the most spontaneous person, which is why this next part might come as a big surprise (it did to me). I figured we could get bus ticket inforomation from the train station, but accepted the fact that the hotel situation might not be so easy. So I asked Ryan, "how comfortable would you be going to Elba without a hotel?" I didn't even know how comfortable I would be in that situation! But apparently I was looking for his opinion. We turned around and headed for the train station.
The train station didn't sell bus tickets, but they did tell us where we could buy them. The train station did, however, have another travel agency. That didn't book in Elba. So, we walked VERY quickly to the bus depot, and bought tickets. I saw another travel agency at the entrance, so Ryan and I split up. Their computers were down! This was getting borderline ridiculous, but we still had 20 minutes, so we decided to push forward. Tickets in hand, we started walking the streets. We hit another travel agency. They only booked with one hotel in Elba, which was full. They also told us that it was very crowded this time of year, and that they would not, if they were us, go without a hotel reservation. This place had an internet cafe about two doors down. It was our last shot.
These internet places take your ID when you use their computers, and this guy was entering Ryan's information with the ever efficient hunt and peck method. If you looked closely, you could actually see the steam coming out of our ears. We finally got a computer, and started furiously searching properties. The only one in our designated area was $400. At this point, we gave up again. We were going to chuck the bus tickets we just bought, and call it a day (again). And again, I pipe up! "What about Trip Advisor!!!" We decide to give it a try, at exactly 9:50. And we found a place! We wondered if we'd have time to book, but it worked - we had a hotel! We tried printing the receipt, and nothing happened. I start entering the confirmation codes into the phone as Ryan's asking the tortoise behind the desk if he could help us with the printer. We get it printed! And RUN to the bus station like crazy people. When we're actually in our seats, we both can't really believe we're on our way. Even typing this story makes my heart race.
Elba was worth it. As soon as we got settled, we headed for the beach. By the time we arrived, the only space left was on a rock beach, which really isn't comfortable. It was gorgeous, though, so you had a lot to distract you. The next morning, we got up really early and rented an umbrella and chairs at the one sand beach we could find. That was the best day - we sat and read in those chairs for hours, which is exactly what we want from a beach vacation. The scenery reminded of us Cinque Terre, and the water was just as cold. The towns were much bigger,though, and really came alive at night. Everyone was outside, couples were holding hands, kids were on bikes, all the shops were open... it was a great little vacation.
Bonus - while riding the ferry, we passed Montecristo Island. If you're an Alexandre Dumas fan, this would be a pretty exciting moment.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Two Weeks in Florence
Florence was amazing. And the apartment was really charming… I was expecting bad, and it was definitely more charming than bad. It was one room, but that wasn’t problem. It was hot, which was sometimes a problem (see Ryan below, reading right in front of our air conditioner). The first night was the worst. The air conditioner was attached to a hose, which was attached to a hole in the outer wall (to let hot air escape). Right before we went to sleep, I moved the air conditioner a little closer to the bed, and in doing so, took the hose with me. So that night, we cooled and simultaneously heated the apartment. I got no sleep. Our stove consisted of two burners that required you to turn the gas on before starting the flame with a match. There was no microwave, so reheating required the same process. Ryan said it was like camping. There was a huge outside light that would go on and off for no reason. One night I actually saw it go off as we were approaching our building, so I asked Ryan why. His answer? "Crappiness." The location was great - we were right on a popular square (the picture on the right is the view outside our window). The internet thing was annoying at first, but soon we became that couple you see on TV, after they accept the challenge of going a week with no cell phones, TV, and computer, professing gratitude for their change of pace. We ended up loving it. We went to class in the morning, planned an activity for the afternoon, went out to dinner, and read at night. We enjoyed our new digs so much that one of the activities included buying books about Florence - one for each of us.
My book was about the author's personal experience living in Florence, combined with history of the city. One afternoon we decided to track down his old nieghborhood. He lived in a pretty famous building called Palazzo Bartolini. The architect had been criticized for his original design, but it soon became a popular trend, so there's an inscription above the door that translates to, "it is easier to criticize than to imitate." Ryan further translated this to, "don't hate the player, hate the game." Here’s Ryan reading his book at Palazzo Bartolini, while I took my book (and the camera) to further investigated the area.
The interaction with people was by far the most exciting part of the stay. We were there to learn the language, so we would use it on waiters at dinner, shopkeepers, etc. And the reaction was amazing. Italians are BY FAR the friendliest people. Love Italians. Hate their trains and airports, but love Italians. It’s what made Florence so special. We made friends with the pizza guy down the street. It was a slow night, so he talked to us the entire time we ate. He told us to come back before he left for vacation that following Sunday, which we did. We had a favorite restaurant that we went to probably 5 times in two weeks. It was right around the corner from our apartment. There was always the same waiter, and he smiled at us when we walked in the door, and laughed at me when I finally got to order tomato soup (they had a menu that changed every other day... I was always waiting for the tomato soup - pictured below). We took a cooking class, which was obviously popular among American tourists. The chef stayed by our table almost the whole night because we were the only people he could speak to. We stopped by an artist’s booth at an open market, and ended up talking to the artist for 10 minutes. That’s how it worked every time we left the apartment. We felt connected to people and a part of the city, much more so than we’ve ever felt even in Switzerland.
My favorite leather albums and diaries come from Scripture, but they all say made in Italy. When I first found out we were moving to Europe, I had had these romantic ideas about buying a wedding album straight from the source, and as soon as I saw Florence back in July, I knew it was the right place… I feel sorry for the cows of Italy because Florence has more leather goods than you could ever imagine. My step-dad emailed me the name of a place he thought would work, so one afternoon we set out to see if it was “the one.” The guy was SO nice, he made the albums by hand in the back of his shop, and there was a little article about his products in Marie Claire magazine framed right above the counter. It was like album heaven. We designed the whole thing… Ryan picked out the color, we put little bars on the spine, embossed our initials and date on the front cover, and a tiny tiny fleur-de-lis on the back, which is actually the symbol of Florence (it was fate)! We walked away from the whole experience feeling like we had something really special.
We did a few things with people from our class. Here we are having dinner… two people were from Brazil, two from Austria, and one from Korea. We had a great time, and felt completely comfortable. Again, we were reminded that it took us forever to have these experiences in Switzerland, and yet it only took one week staying in Florence. No judgment really, just a lesson in cultural differences. We were told that the Swiss weren’t the easiest to warm up to you, but that once you got close to them, they were friends for life. I think we’ve made a few of those.
We went to Sting’s favorite restaurant (I have sources), and had the traditional la bistecca fiorentina. The smallest portion we could order was one kilo, and it was stupid expensive, but, when in Rome! That’s what I say when we have to justify something we normally wouldn’t do. So this night it was, when in Florence... you apparently get half liters of red AND white wine, multiple courses including pasta, dessert and a kilo of beef. It was one of those nights we’ve had a lot of out here where it’s just us, dinner lasts hours, we laugh, and walk home happy. The restaurant was a little shi-shi, so we concocted a plan that would allow us to take a picture without drawing attention. It was supposed to be undercover, and Ryan only had ONE shot at pulling it off. Needless to say, we didn’t execute.
We continued to pet animals on the street. I had to wait in line behind a three year old to get my hands on this little guy.
We wondered how staying in Florence for two weeks would compare to visiting for a few days (which we did in July). The verdict – WAY different. Even though our time there was fairly short, I felt like we got to know certain aspects of the city intimately. When you’re there for a few days, you have to run around and see as much as possible. But when you’ve already done that, and when you have time on your hands, you just sit. You get to see things in a small, quiet way, that you would have never noticed before. We lived in a big open market area, and each morning on our walk to school we got to see the vendors setting up their carts. It was amazing. Each one is an old wooden contraption that opens up into a million compartments and serves as a completely self-sufficient storefront. There are men that roll them to and from a warehouse down the street where they are stored every night. These men are large, and put the weight of the cart on their shoulders (by way of two protruding poles). It takes the vendors a while to set up all of their items, and when they’re finished, it doesn’t even resemble a cart. We got to watch this every morning. Little things like this, after repetition and over a period of time, result in something bigger. Virginia Wolf writes about these little things. “In people’s eyes, in the swing, the tramp and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar. In the triumph and the strong high singing of some aeroplane over head was what she loved: life; London; this moment in June.” Our moment was in August and it was perfect.
Here are more pictures from the trip... we took lots.
My book was about the author's personal experience living in Florence, combined with history of the city. One afternoon we decided to track down his old nieghborhood. He lived in a pretty famous building called Palazzo Bartolini. The architect had been criticized for his original design, but it soon became a popular trend, so there's an inscription above the door that translates to, "it is easier to criticize than to imitate." Ryan further translated this to, "don't hate the player, hate the game." Here’s Ryan reading his book at Palazzo Bartolini, while I took my book (and the camera) to further investigated the area.
The interaction with people was by far the most exciting part of the stay. We were there to learn the language, so we would use it on waiters at dinner, shopkeepers, etc. And the reaction was amazing. Italians are BY FAR the friendliest people. Love Italians. Hate their trains and airports, but love Italians. It’s what made Florence so special. We made friends with the pizza guy down the street. It was a slow night, so he talked to us the entire time we ate. He told us to come back before he left for vacation that following Sunday, which we did. We had a favorite restaurant that we went to probably 5 times in two weeks. It was right around the corner from our apartment. There was always the same waiter, and he smiled at us when we walked in the door, and laughed at me when I finally got to order tomato soup (they had a menu that changed every other day... I was always waiting for the tomato soup - pictured below). We took a cooking class, which was obviously popular among American tourists. The chef stayed by our table almost the whole night because we were the only people he could speak to. We stopped by an artist’s booth at an open market, and ended up talking to the artist for 10 minutes. That’s how it worked every time we left the apartment. We felt connected to people and a part of the city, much more so than we’ve ever felt even in Switzerland.
My favorite leather albums and diaries come from Scripture, but they all say made in Italy. When I first found out we were moving to Europe, I had had these romantic ideas about buying a wedding album straight from the source, and as soon as I saw Florence back in July, I knew it was the right place… I feel sorry for the cows of Italy because Florence has more leather goods than you could ever imagine. My step-dad emailed me the name of a place he thought would work, so one afternoon we set out to see if it was “the one.” The guy was SO nice, he made the albums by hand in the back of his shop, and there was a little article about his products in Marie Claire magazine framed right above the counter. It was like album heaven. We designed the whole thing… Ryan picked out the color, we put little bars on the spine, embossed our initials and date on the front cover, and a tiny tiny fleur-de-lis on the back, which is actually the symbol of Florence (it was fate)! We walked away from the whole experience feeling like we had something really special.
We did a few things with people from our class. Here we are having dinner… two people were from Brazil, two from Austria, and one from Korea. We had a great time, and felt completely comfortable. Again, we were reminded that it took us forever to have these experiences in Switzerland, and yet it only took one week staying in Florence. No judgment really, just a lesson in cultural differences. We were told that the Swiss weren’t the easiest to warm up to you, but that once you got close to them, they were friends for life. I think we’ve made a few of those.
We went to Sting’s favorite restaurant (I have sources), and had the traditional la bistecca fiorentina. The smallest portion we could order was one kilo, and it was stupid expensive, but, when in Rome! That’s what I say when we have to justify something we normally wouldn’t do. So this night it was, when in Florence... you apparently get half liters of red AND white wine, multiple courses including pasta, dessert and a kilo of beef. It was one of those nights we’ve had a lot of out here where it’s just us, dinner lasts hours, we laugh, and walk home happy. The restaurant was a little shi-shi, so we concocted a plan that would allow us to take a picture without drawing attention. It was supposed to be undercover, and Ryan only had ONE shot at pulling it off. Needless to say, we didn’t execute.
We continued to pet animals on the street. I had to wait in line behind a three year old to get my hands on this little guy.
We wondered how staying in Florence for two weeks would compare to visiting for a few days (which we did in July). The verdict – WAY different. Even though our time there was fairly short, I felt like we got to know certain aspects of the city intimately. When you’re there for a few days, you have to run around and see as much as possible. But when you’ve already done that, and when you have time on your hands, you just sit. You get to see things in a small, quiet way, that you would have never noticed before. We lived in a big open market area, and each morning on our walk to school we got to see the vendors setting up their carts. It was amazing. Each one is an old wooden contraption that opens up into a million compartments and serves as a completely self-sufficient storefront. There are men that roll them to and from a warehouse down the street where they are stored every night. These men are large, and put the weight of the cart on their shoulders (by way of two protruding poles). It takes the vendors a while to set up all of their items, and when they’re finished, it doesn’t even resemble a cart. We got to watch this every morning. Little things like this, after repetition and over a period of time, result in something bigger. Virginia Wolf writes about these little things. “In people’s eyes, in the swing, the tramp and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar. In the triumph and the strong high singing of some aeroplane over head was what she loved: life; London; this moment in June.” Our moment was in August and it was perfect.
Here are more pictures from the trip... we took lots.
Monday, September 13, 2010
This is a first...
I am on could nine! I know I've been putting off the Florence post (which was amazing, by the way), and this isn't an appropriate way to break three weeks of blog silence, but I can't hold it in... I just made a hair appointment, IN ITALIAN!!! I didn't ask if they spoke English (which is always the first phrase that comes out of my mouth). I did have the help of Google Translate (didn't know the word for appointment), but it still counts. I also didn't know the word for hair cut, but I understood when she asked if I wanted a regular "stilare" or a "colore." I knew I didn't want a colore, so I said "solo stilare." After I hung up, I looked up the word. I knew it probably meant style (it actually means draft), but since I want more than a style, I had to call back. And I did that in Italian! I looked up the word for hair cut, and I told the woman that I was confirming my appointment was in fact for a hair cut, because when I called before, I didn't know the word in Italian. She understood and had a little laugh. So, it looks like I have a real appointment tomorrow. Woo hoo!
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