So March 1st has come and passed and believe it or not, I am now twenty-one years old. Emphasis on the word old. Clearly, the excitement behind turning twenty-one holds no meaning whatsoever to the European population... as my friend Paige put it in my birthday card, “it kinda stinks turning 21 in Europe since they begin drinking at age 7.” (That’s almost factual.) Fortunately for me, however, my birthday was filled with a few special gifts and surprises, making it much more exciting than the anticlimactic, European, twenty-first birthday that I had imagined.
Proof: receiving two, fabulous birthday gifts in the form of my mom and Aunt Linda... Shipped all the way from the US of A!
Comically, I knew hardly anything about our week together. Being the extreme, pre-planner that I am (Oh how I miss you, giant, week-by-week, desk calendar) you’d think that I’d have some clue what was going on. Or you’d at least imagine that I’d be somewhat suspicious as to why I had no clue what was going on. Nope, not the case. Apparently Italian-Jenna is far less concerned with planning than her American counterpart because the morning of their arrival, I realized I had no idea where I would find them. I mean, somewhere in Florence I guess? Luckily, the hotel lobby was a good guess and our week together began then and there!
I toted the two all around my little neighborhood, pointing out my bedroom window and introducing them to my darling, white bicycle. Because of my fabulous luck, we even happened upon an impromptu meeting with Attilio and Oscar who pulled into the parking lot at the exact moment we were passing by. Chances of that? Oh-so-slim.
Anyhow, I had a great time showing Mom and Linda all around my city--proving that my sense of direction isn’t completely impaired after all. We attacked L'Accademia (David) and the Uffizi (this may have involved a spontaneous headset-snatching on my part), the Palatine gallery, and the Medici Chapel all in two days.
Taking a sweet stroll along the gold shops lining the Ponte Vecchio, we managed to find a few Pandora beads for my mom’s bracelet--It was getting a bit jealous of my own now, well-bedazzled Pandora. We even had nice enough weather to hike through the Boboli Gardens... you know, just your average 100-acre yard filled with ornate hedges, reflecting pools, and unreal panoramic views of the city.
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| Caught you in the act, missy! |
During her stay, my mom also joined me in the questionably creepy business of dog-ogling. Together, we meandered down the streets of Florence, oohing and awing at all of the fuzzy, little dogs that passed. (Aunt Linda took a back seat to this craziness.) Only my mother would pay a euro so that we could pat and love Giulia, this adorable little pup who sits on the sidewalk, earning big bucks for her homeless owner. The poor thing desperately needs a bath, but she is absolutely adorable and I consider puppy-napping her almost daily.
The big surprise, however, came during a meal while we were talking about all of my travels. I began listing the few places left on my list that I would still really love to see... No biggie, just a few more fabulous European locales...for instance, Paris (though I don’t know who I’ll go with since my friends have already been).
That’s when they sprung it on me: “We’re taking you to Paris!” And that’s when I freaked the heck out.
Come Sunday afternoon, we were surrounded by the city of light!
In other words, a breakfast full of croissants, crepes, and real orange juice! Aunt Linda took the reigns as the translator of the group, dusting off her French vocabulary, and the three of us began our routine of walking hundreds of miles every day. After seeing all of the women strutting their mile-long, toothpick legs (unfair) along the Parisian streets it became clear that we needed to do some serious mileage to justify the daily pain au chocolat.
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| Just call me Marie Antoinette |
As great, little tourists, we bopped from the Concergerie (the palace/jail where Marie Antoinette was held) to La Sainte-Chapelle (the most breathtaking stained-glass windows that I have ever seen) to Notre Dame (no sign of the Hunchback or Esmerelda, but still pretty amazing). We window-shopped and ate on the Ile Saint Louis and made our way along the Seine to the Louvre.
I cannot get over the size of the Louvre--Honestly, it’s massive. The inside is a very easy place to get lost and the outside consumes something like 6 city blocks. Obviously, we made our first priority Mona Lisa... I mean, even after studying it in various art history classes and hearing how anticlimactic the firsthand viewing will inevitably be, it’s something ya gotta do.
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| Mom looking 'dorbs with the pyramid |
Recommendations for finding the Mona Lisa: Follow the Asian tourists--they will undoubtedly lead you there in a prompt and efficient fashion. Downside to this method? They’ll stand in front of the teeny, tiny painting (that has its own wall. What?!) and photograph themselves (peace signs are a must) with it. Anyone who wishes to actually survey the piece for more than 2 seconds is virtually out of luck. My fellow tourists, however, did inspire my own picture taken with the Venus de Milo in the Louvre...
The Musee D’Orsay was a real treat for me and Mom--What can we say? We’re crazy about our pretty, colorful, impressionist paintings. The collection is also kept within the bounds of an old train station that is indescribably beautiful. I couldn’t think of a better place for Degas’ gorgeous, pastel ballerinas.
And the endless trek across Paris continues...
What would a trip to Paris be without a stop at the Eiffel tower? In all honesty, la torre was much larger than I always pictured it. Especially from the top! Riding in the elevator, Mom and I actually thought we were at the “summit” before they dropped us off to switch elevators, to plow even higher into the sky... Freaky. The wind was kind of out-of-control from some angles and we emerged absolutely frigid. Luckily, we opted for a lovely, heated cruise along the Seine in the afternoon, before braving the wind to make our way down the Champs Elysees. You know, for my red leather, 8-piece Louis Vuitton luggage set, of course. Joking, jokinggg.
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| We made it to the top! |
For dinner, I chose a restaurant outside the bounds of French dining. Things that are incredibly entertaining? English translations of meals originally written in French. For example, a dish described as “a chicken and his juices”... Man, how much do you want to order that bad boy now?! A burger, a Coca-Cola, and a molten lava chocolate cake--Adair, I had FRENCH fries too... is that cultured enough for you?--ended my perfect, Parisian birthday.
CAUTION: Cheesy alert. (Sorry I can’t help it!)
I cannot describe in words how much fun I had with my aunt and mom while they were here in Europe. It is certainly a birthday that I will always remember! I’m so glad that we were able to take on Florence and Paris together! xoxoxoxo
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| Just another ostentatious palace at the Luxembourg Gardens |
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| A March 1st parade in my honor? Oh Paris, you shouldn't have! |
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| Wow, someone stole my go-to pose. Twinsies overlooking Notre Dame? |
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| Senior Ball, here I come! |
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| Luxembourg Gardens |
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| The beautiful river Seine |
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| My special, birthday poster |
Colleen and Michelle’s cousins, who are our age, toted us all around town which was great! They brought us to an apperitivi place for yummy snacks and drinks. It was an incredibly modern establishment called XO, which does not represent “Kiss Hug,” by the way. Rather, it happens to stand for “Extra Old.” Oh Italy... your ridiculous choice of English phrases never ceases to entertain me. Later on, we all went bowling together... My alter-ego “Gianna” (Note: Italians don’t understand the name Jenna at all so the automatic score-keeper renamed me) apparently rocks at bowling and got a strike! Such skills! Who knew? The only downside of our time together was cousin Giovanni’s driving... as our chauffeur for the weekend, he made me, Colleen, and Michelle sick to our stomachs with his hair-pin turns and need for speed. Blechhhhhh.
