Some Italy, Some Austria, Some...Slovakia?

I love traveling. Traveling as a poor college student, however, is something that I can certainly live with out.  In fact, I am praying to the heavens that after this year, the words “hostel” and “Ryan Air” will vanish forever from my vocabulary.  

In order to hustle the super-low fares that Ryan Air offers, one must zigzag all across the universe before arriving at the final destination.  Case in point, we live in Florence.  We flew out of Milan.  If you’re unfamiliar with Italian geography, allow me to fill you in--Florence and Milan are separated by a 2 hour train ride... on the fast train.  

Thus, we made a few pitstops along the way.  Why not, right? Adair and I explored Verona, Italy--the setting of William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet.”  Verona is a quaint, little town, accessible via a perfect, little footbridge. 

We explored the main piazze during our two-hour-long-leg-stretching-period.  Juliet’s residence... not too impressive.  For some reason, it was much shorter than I had imagined it.  In my eyes, Romeo, you’re no longer such a stud--Who can’t scale a wall and jump to the courtyard from a balcony 2 feet above the ground? C’mon, man. 

Just chilling with Juliet

The courtyard is otherwise filled with romantic graffiti and love letters, left behind since the dawn of time.  Apparently, people do in fact leave love letters to Juliet.  In fact, I found a letter that was left there decades ago and never found... I then hunted down the letter-writer (a sweet, elderly woman) and managed to fall in love with her dashing, young grandson, while in the meantime reuniting the letter-writer with her long, lost love. TIME-OUT. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that those things only happen to characters like Amanda Seyfried’s in “Letters to Juliet” and not to this girl... Sad face.  Still worth the visit though... you never know.

"Letters to Juliet"

After another epic train ride--yup, at this point, we’re still trying to get to our point of departure--we arrived in Milan where Adair and I spent the evening window-shopping on Via Montenapoleone, the home of Milan’s famed fashion district.  We awed at the window displays at Fendi and Louis Vuitton; we cried at our inability to make a purchase.  My 21st birthday is coming up--family, friends, wealthy and good-hearted strangers--I am in love with these blue, sparkly heels. They’re quite modest and would make for a fairly practical purchase, if you ask me. 

And so the travels continue... after departing from Milan we arrived in Bratislava.  No, I do not mean Vienna; I mean Bratislava. Upon arrival, we made many a ridiculous joke about landing in Bulgaria, Botswana, essentially any geographical name beginning with a “B.” All the while, none of us realized how idiotic we actually were for not knowing that Bratislava is, in fact, the capital of Slovakia.  (And to think that I was once the queen of geography and map-making.  Gosh I hope my knowledge of the countries and capitals did not reach its peak in seventh grade. Depressing.)  

Eventually, however, we did reach Vienna:  home to sweet Austrian people, Mozart, long stretches of ostentatious architecture, Swarovski crystal super-stores, and--most importantly--strudel.  We were greeted with (I do not joke) a parade.  Yes, a motley crew of Viennese, equipped with instruments, and decked from head-to-toe in lederhosen and plumed hats, welcomed us to their fair city.  It was honestly too-perfect.   

The rest of our day was spent in the Haus der Musik.  What’s that? Only the greatest museum ever. Yes, the three of us essentially digressed ten years a piece the moment we walked through the door of this interactive museum--filled with hands-on music games and lessons about famous composers.  Pretty entertaining and highly recommended.  I even got to conduct the Vienna Philharmonic!  

We began our next day in Vienna with a hearty, Viennese breakfast at a swanky, little cafe frequented by the likes of Sigmund Freud.  Vienna, you know how to make a mean breakfast.  Other things you know how to make well: Strudel.  We stopped in a bakery cafe later in the day for a taste... a little cherry strudel blanketed in a coat of creamy, vanilla sauce? Please and thank you.   

We needed all of the energy we could muster in order to explore all the rest that Vienna has to offer.  For example, we spent hours strolling around the ring, Vienna’s central boulevard filled with its government buildings, churches, and monuments.  Hofburg, the imperial palace, is quite a sight to see--especially in its current state, dusted beneath a light flurry of January snowfall. Too pretty.  We even got to gaze on as ice skaters circled the rink, directly in front of one of the gorgeous churches.  Sadly, the famous, white, Lipizzaner horses were nowhere to be seen... apparently, they’re far too busy touring South Carolina for some unknown reason.  Guys, if you lived in Vienna, why would you ever leave?  Anyhow, we also peaked inside the marvelous theater in the city center and explored the Belvedere palace--just a little somethin-somethin Prince Eugene used as his summer residence... no biggie.

All the while, the three of us found the German language incredibly entertaining.  The signs, the metro stops, the street names... all made for an amusing, little game of pronunciation.  A street named GasGasse--Really, Austria?

At this point, I think Vienna may be topping the charts.  It’s absolutely gorgeous and if you haven’t been yet, I’d add it to the bucket-list.  Points for people. Points for museums.  Points for pastries. Points for public transportation. Points for architecture. Sadly, Vienna, you are undoubtedly losing points for this frightening sign. Not okay:

So it's been a month...

I take it back.  

Snow and Florence Italy are two things never to be mixed.  

Let’s face it, Florentines, you don’t even own shovels.  No wonder my flights scheduled for Saturday, Sunday, and Tuesday--after Friday’s whopping three inches of powder--were all cancelled!  What exactly did it take for me to finally make it home?  

-3 flight cancellations

-4 hours waiting in line at the airport, hoping for the next ticket home

-2 days in the Florence Hilton watching Italian cartoons

-1 ridiculously over-priced sliver of chocolate cake from room service

-1 date request from the hotel’s over-friendly, concierge. Oh yes, he called my hotel room phone. Casual.

Hey Adair, where you at? Sorry we kidnapped your family!

-1 extravagant excuse as to why I could not attend said-date with hotel’s over-friendly, concierge.

-1 train ride to Rome

-2 delicious Roman dinners with Adair’s adorable family

-1 night spent “sleeping” in Rome’s freezing cold, train station with Lauren

-An excessive amount of money spent on WiFi internet 

-10 hours on an airplane that actually left the country

-5 extra, never-ending days in Europe

Anyhow, I made it home in time for Christmas and spent two, gorgeous weeks reveling in the likes of American Coca-Cola, “Say Yes to the Dress” marathons, shoe-shopping missions, a cell phone with a keyboard, and many wonderful days spent with my family and friends.  

Sadly, I must report that not everything about being home was a positive experience.  In fact, putting on my favorite, JCrew jeans after their first time in the dryer in five months was an incredibly depressing moment of realization.  (Receiving Victoria’s Secret’s catalogue of 2011 bathing suits, while home, did not help matters either.)  

Thus, I set out two weeks ago intent on returning to Italy as a new, healthy girl on a mission to ditch my unhealthy obsessions (Hey there, Gelato, I’m talking to you).  

I’m a pretty determined person.  

I have a pretty high level of willpower.  

Theoretically, these things should work in my favor, yes?

Things that do not work in my favor:

(In other words, reasons why dieting in Italy is impractical and foolish)

-Nina’s 9th birthday party  

Oh what’s up, birthday cake... that is actually Boston Creme Pie.  Sure, the cake was minuscule in comparison to big, fluffy American birthday cakes covered in basketfuls of sugar flowers, but I’m sure it was still good for a few thousand calories.  But hey--- I did play pallone with Nina and Oscar for hours over the course of the week.  Shouldn’t that help matters? "What’s pallone?" you ask... Only the greatest game in the universe.  A pallone is a balloon. Therefore, I’m talking about the balloon game, people.  You know-- “Keep it up” as Kyle and I would refer to it--when you cannot let the balloon touch the ground.  Clearly, this game knows no borders. If anyone is up for a challenge, the record in the Pinto household was 136 bounces. Yeah, compete with that.

-My Italian host-famiglia 

“Why aren’t you drinking wine?” “Why didn’t you finish that pasta?” “Here, have this slice of bread covered in oily and extremely caloric nonsense that I promise is good for you.” 

Must I continue...?

-Holy Cross deciding to pay for things  

For example, paying for lunch at an expensive restaurant that we, as students, could never afford.  It would have been a waste of money, a sin, and just plain rude to have left anything on my plate when chocolate-apricot tort cake and ricotta/pear ravioli were involved.

-Final exams  

I have no idea who would ever consider final exams, after the holidays, to be a good idea.  Anyhow, my friends and I returned to Italy at the start of January for the sole purpose of studying.

No. 

Really.

I do not kid, or exaggerate.

Besides, eating and sleeping, I can assure you that I have done nothing else but flip through my 6 pound stack of flashcards, attend tutoring sessions, and revisit the eleven Florentine museums that I now know by heart for the past two weeks.  

Friday night? Studied. 

Saturday night? Studied.


My host family must think I am a complete wack-o for miserably and unwillingly peeling myself off the living-room couch after five minutes of Italian Grey’s Anatomy.  Anyhow, please accept my pathetic complaints about exams as proof that “studying abroad,” at least in the case of good, old College of the Holy Cross, is in fact studying abroad. Thank you.

At this point, I’d like to offer all of my millions of dyer blog-followers the opportunity to give me a call regarding any questions about museology, museography, opening dates, architects, masterpieces, and curators.  (Look at it as a special gift from me to you.) 

Uffizi. Opened in 1584. Duh.

My friends and I are good students...we’re smart and extremely hardworking kids...BUT this exam was nothing like anything any of us has ever done before.  First off, our entire semester of learning, of readings, of museum visits was whittled down to a ten minute oral exam with our professor--a little, Italian woman whom we refer to as QE2 because of her extreme resemblance to Queen Elizabeth.  QE has never spoken a word to me, personally, in my life and has 100 other students to test.  In these ten minutes, she has the opportunity to ask me anything in the world about the subject. In Italian. As if this weren’t terrifying enough, our tutor casually informed us, the day before the test that exams in Italy are a public event.  Therefore, it is nothing out-of-the-ordinary for a student to sit at the front of the classroom, being tested by the professor, as the rest of the students in the class watch, listen to her questions, the answers, and the grade. Horrifying.  It goes without saying that the four of us were nervous-wrecks.

The scene of the crime.

Before.

However, we were all extremely prepared and I am proud to report that not only did we all pass the exam, but we also passed with flying colors.  How cool is it to think that I took an exam yesterday, in a different language, and actually speaking Italian was the least of my worries?  A’s on an exam taken in a language other than my mother-tongue? Not too shabby. I will admit I was a bit obsessive with the flashcards...Now, even after finishing the exam, random words in conversations will trigger the names of art historians and the dates of museum-openings in my head. 
I. am. a. joke.

Directly after receiving our grades, we are all actually this ecstatic. Such a great day, such a great feeling!

At this point, I am ready for a little break!

Where to?!!

The Bachelor Season 14 winner.

Vienna blog coming soon!

The infamous cookie.