Texans in Italy: A Family Affair

I started a new journal last week, one I bought while in Sicily, and it's a good thing I did because what a week of adventures I had!  From Sunday to Sunday I was trekking around this beautiful country with fellow Shultzes and the notorious Shrodes (who may as well be family).  Perhaps you're thinking "a solid week with the fam?  gag!" or "5th wheeling it with the baby-boomers?  no thanks!" But actually my expectations were exceeded and I can honestly say I had a fantastic time.  I was elated to see familiar faces and even happier to personally to show them where I'd been living for the past 8 months.  Plus there's just something heartwarming about being around people from the Lone Star State, namely allowing myself to use y'all more often than usual.

Texas-sized portions

Now, it wouldn't be a true trip through Italy without a few key ingredients.  A large helping of culture, art and history, an gluttonous side of dolce vita with (let's be real here) a dash of inefficiency/inconvenience.  The plan to meet everyone in Milan was nearly foiled by an early morning train station strike in Torino.  *sigh*.  With some quick thinking I managed to make my way by 2 buses and gather the Texas crew to board the high speed train to Rome.  As some of you know personally, there's nothing quite like Rome.  In fact, my Italian host brother once told me Rome is like your first love, it'll always stay with you no matter where you go or who you become.  That's still true for me.  And every time I return I always discover something new.

The fam had their first taste of true Italian food that first night in Roma.  The bottles of local vino were flowing, bread was sopping up olive oil and balsamic vinegar, forks were clinking against plates full of fresh pasta, our laughter was echoing inside the walls of the small family-owned trattoria.  This was the Italy I wanted them to know and to love.  Simple dishes, great wine, impeccable company, and the beauty of enjoying the moment.

awesome view from the rooftop bar

The worry-free agenda continued on Day 2 with a private tour of the Eternal City with an Italian Texas Ex (Hook 'Em!) who truly enriched our experience.  (what really enriched my experience was the rented car and driver we had for the entire day… def beats hitchhiking and sweating on public buses.)  We were granted access to the Hypogeum (area underneath the floor of the Colosseum) to see where gladiators entered the arena and animals/scenery were hoisted up.  Pretty impressive.  From there we checked out Michelangelo's sculpture of Moses in the basilica of St. Peter in Chains; visited some nuns and Renaissance frescoes at the church of St. Cecilia; and peeked through a tiny keyhole atop the Aventine Hill at the Knights of Malta to see a unique view of St. Peter's basilica.

standard father/daughter colosseum pose

And what's a tour of Rome without wandering the dank, dreary corridors of the Catacombs?  A single flashlight guided our way through rows of looted tombs and highlighted a few remaining oil lamps, headstones and bodiless skulls.  Ew.  A necessary trip to Piazza Navona and an unexpected rain storm resulted in our pursuit of the true pride of this country: gelato.  My flavors of choice were an intriguing raspberry-sage and a summery passion fruit.  Upon our return to the hotel (by air-conditioned vehicle, aahh-mazing) I set out with the Shrode family, aka the Merry Midlanders, to engage in some serious coffee culture at St. Eustachio.  This was followed by a lengthy stroll through a local wine merchant's bottega and a quick peek into the Pantheon where I did my best to recite old art history class material.

neck-numbing beauty

Day 3 began entirely too early due to special entry tickets for the Vatican Museums.  Worth it, trust me.  This guide ushered us through the tapestry-covered halls, over the marbled floors and provided us with an exceptional framework for viewing the most renowned ceiling in the world.  We sat at the back of the Sistine Chapel for an hour and a half (what seemed like 20 minutes) craning our necks as she painted us a detailed picture of what Michelangelo's true experience had been in that very room.  Incredible.  I'd been before, though this time I had more of a context and thus walked away even more full of awe.

The Merry Midlanders at the Vatican

St. Peter's Basilica, opulent as always, beckoned us with its fabulously baroque décor and incomparable size.  They'd just moved John Paul II's body into the basilica from the Vatican catacombs where I'd seen him back in 2006 due to his recent beatification.  Props, JP2.  In case anyone's wondering, I didn't spy the current Pope this time around for another drive-by blessing - but that's cool, I'll catch him on the flip side.

At this point in the trip our group split into those who were ambitious enough to do 4 Italian cities in 7 days (Shrodes) and those who are less successful at doing a fast-forward version of Rick Steves' Italy (Shultzes).  Our last night in Rome was possibly the most memorable because a relaxing evening of hotel bar patronizing resulted in a charming conversation with Michele, our barman.  As we chatted, he sculpted us a small souvenir from 3 champage tops/cages which he wired together to make an adorable tiny chair and table/ottoman.  One of those things you'll never forget.  Other than that it was quite simply a pleasure to relax and talk about how much I'm enjoying my time here and how thankful/blessed I feel every day to be having this experience.

courtyard cuteness

Days 4 and 5 were spent exploring the medieval town of Spoleto in the land-locked Umbria region.  Sprawling vistas of hillside vineyards greeted us warmly.  Here we truly relaxed and savored the Italian experience.  The only effort exerted during our 2 days there was traversing steep inclines of tiny streets to find a restaurant and of course the classic quandary: which of these locally-crafted cashmere tops suits me best?  I was happy to share this countryside version of Italy, as it's much different from bustling Rome yet is still a vital component of the true Italian experience.  We lounged on the picturesque terrace at sundown, wine in hand, and tried to drink in the indescribably quaint atmosphere.

spoleto - abruzzo

Day 6 was spent traveling back up to Milan, reconnecting with the Shrodes, and finally adding in that undeniably Italian dash of inconvenience.  We arrived at our "pre-booked" hotel to find the reservation didn't exist and the available rooms the guy gave us were akin to your standard Motel 6.  Except I think Motel 6s don't have shared bathrooms in the hall or bidets next to the bed.  Yeah.  A few international phone calls later we'd found a place across town, but not before the proprietor began yelling at us in Italian for leaving his establishment.  (This point in the trip is where I cemented my growing mastery of the Italian language, everyone.)  I wasn't about to let him insult us, so I raised my voice to his level, used the appropriate inflections to denote displeasure and firmly informed him the room was total shit.  In hindsight I could've used more gestures, but I think I got my point across.  Texas: 1, Italy: 0!

A much nicer hotel awaited us across town and over dinner I informed everyone you couldn't really see  Italy without someone cursing at you, trying to sell you an umbrella while you're holding one, or somehow being conned out of money due to mismanagement of public administration.  Alas.

inside Santa Maria delle Grazie, Milan

But the last day, Day 7, was great because we had reservations with Mr. Leo Da Vinci.  Well, his rendition of the Last Supper, actually.  What a privilege it was to be among the few granted entry each day to see one of the greatest masterpieces of all time.  There simply is no describing the sensation one gets from standing in the very room where over 500 years ago Da Vinci painstakingly depicted the highly gestural scene of Jesus and the 12 apostles seated at a table.  Not much could top that experience, but an obligatory trip to the Duomo, the Galleria and Castello Sforzesco was in order.

cool pic from the rooftop bar in Rome

That evening we had cocktails on the patio of the hotel and recounted the trip's best moments.  Among them were stumbling upon a cute leather boutique, a delicious plate of Bucatini all'Amatriciana, reliving the creation of the Sistine Chapel, a memorable night in Venice, lounging on the patio and talking over wine.  I felt like all the memories aptly embodied the true Italian experience: the food, the culture, the wine, but above all the way of life.  The memories wouldn't have been as meaningful if they hadn't been shared with family.  In that same vein, my experiences thus far described on this blog carry great significance for me because I know I am sharing them with my friends and family that read.  Italy isn't perfect by any means, but being able to spend a week with people who love me in a beautiful country is just about as close as you can get.

My Tax Return: Part III of III

summer vacation bliss

I feel like this title doesn't exactly convey my enthusiasm for the true life tale you're about to read.  Talking about taxes makes everything seem sort of bland (sorry Roy!), but this trip was just the opposite.  I must write immediately about the memorable week-long adventure I just had on the picturesque island of Sicily.  For those of you who feared I was actually venturing into North Africa, worry not!  Although I remained within the country, I can tell you it seemed as though we entered another world.

piazza pretoria, palermo

One thing that continues to render me awestruck about Italy is the diversity within each region: the dialects, the patrimony, the people, the food.  There is always something to discover.  Sicily is unique in that it's the biggest island (the one the boot of Italy seems to be kicking) and is among the most well-known regions, albeit for mainly negative reasons.  Obviously Sicily is most closely associated with the mafia, and although we are only familiar with Lucky Luciano, the Sopranos and the Godfather, the long-reaching crime organization continues to influence politics and threaten the economy.  In college I (brilliantly) played a small part in an Italian drama production about the first man killed by the mafia in Sicily.  When I took a Sicilian Literature course I never imagined I'd be able to visit the land the famous Italian writers simultaneously lauded for its beauty and cursed for its hopelessness.

san giuseppe teatrino, palermo

So we found cheap Ryanair flights from Turin to Trapani, Sicily and I arranged CouchSurfing hosts in all our desired cities.  Due to the war in Libya we were supposed to be diverted to Palermo but a day before we flew out they decided to reopen Trapani.  This meant we'd be arriving 1.5 hours from our first host's city at midnight.  We arrived a little past midnight on Saturday at Trapani airport and alas, there were no buses to Palermo.  What's a girl to do?  You guessed it.  Hitchhiking.  What were my other options?!  I asked a couple from our flight if they were going to Palermo, they said yes and I boldly asked if we could get a ride with them.  They agreed, telling us they had a daughter our age and wouldn't want to leave her somewhere without a ride.  They were a couple from Turin going to visit friends for a week and as it turns out they were on our flight back home the next Saturday.  We talked the whole way to Palermo, in Italian, and they were telling us all about the beauty of Sicily - what to see in each city on our list.  When we arrived 1.5 hours later they insisted on taking us for a cornetto (nutella-filled croissant) and beer at 1:30AM.  It was a great experience, and such a perfect example of Italian hospitality.

late night arancina run!

They dropped us off in central Palermo where we met our host, Carlo.  An architect/music aficionado with an amazing apartment.  The shower had rocks on the bottom, kind of hurts your feet, but super fancy.  He was with several people, a few CouchSurfers from America, and we all went dancing until 3:30AM, we were so tired!  Sunday we wandered around Palermo looking at monuments and churches, then Carlo called to say he'd make us lunch.  Can't say no to that.  

i could get used to this

We had a delicious meal on his private terrace and talked with him and his friend Filippo all about Sicilian culture.  Later in the evening we went for an aperitivo with Carlo and his friends, then searched for a late-night arancina (tasty deep-fried rice/saffron ball with cheese and meat inside, the size of a softball, super heavy!) and he helped us plan the rest of our trip.  So far we'd just had one problem with a host saying he changed his availability, so I was quickly trying to find a remedy by changing our itinerary.  It all worked out.

on the beach in cefalù - ultimate relaxation

Monday we got on a train to Cefalù, a small touristy town with a beautiful beach and I was happy to relax and feel the sand between my toes.  After spending a few hours there we took the train to the northeastern city of Messina.  Surprisingly it started raining there and luckily we just had to switch trains again instead of getting wet (we hadn't brought umbrellas!) and we were off to Taormina!  There we were picked up at the station by Andrea, a 1/2 Spanish 1/2 Italian naval officer who lived in a nearby town.  He made us dinner, offered us some Malvasia (sicilian white wine), and took us up to Taormina to see the city by night.  Taormina is located up on a hill, so if you don't have a vehicle you have to take a cable car.

view from atop taormina; isola bella

That night we hung out for hours with Andrea and had great conversation, philosophized and theorized on the meaning of being happy and enjoying life to the fullest.  That is what makes CouchSurfing so priceless, experiences and memories like those!  He even showed us the "galateo" (etiquette) he has to use on the ship while eating in front of the Commander.  So funny!  Tuesday morning he left early but gave us the keys to lock up when we wanted to leave.  We had an amazing breakfast of coffee granita (sort of slushy with whipped cream) and brioches by the sea.  Ahh, this is what I imagined Sicily would be like.

granita al caffè and brioches in sant'alessio near taormina

We tried to take a bus into Taormina, but they weren't coming for another 2 hours.  So what did I do?  What anyone would've done, I'm sure.  Hitchhiked again!  (You don't have to start praying for me, guys.  I knew Georgina could've taken any of them.  Plus I'm convinced it's safer in Europe.)  We got a ride into the city with an insurance salesman named Letterio, he not only took us up the hill to see Taormina by day, but he told us that he had to do some errands but would pick us up in an hour to take us to the station.  I wasn't exactly convinced he would return, but sure enough an hour later there he was!  He even took us to his client's bakery and ordered us some arancini, then helped us buy tickets to Catania.  Only in Italy do you find this kind of hospitality.  Only in Italy.

piazza del duomo, catania

We arrived in Catania in the afternoon and our host Salvatore, a banker, picked us up from the station.  He had a fancy shirt with his initials on it.  We dropped our things at his place (he had a restored fresco ceiling!) and then explored Catania on our own.  We perused the piazzas, the duomo, the opera house, and of course made a stop at Salvo's favorite cannoli shop.  Oh damn, so good.

eating my cannolo in the park

That night Salvo invited his friend Giuseppe over and they cooked dinner for us.  Pasta, fried eggplant, roasted rosemary potatoes and Salvo's family's Nero d'Avola (Sicilian red wine).  Up until this point I was so impressed with the hospitality of all our hosts, making sure we were picked up from the station, properly fed and given a place to sleep with anything we may need.  We talked about the fact that in Sicily people think of themselves first as Sicilians, then as Italians.  In America I feel like it's the opposite, we're first Americans, then we're Texans, Californians, etc.  We discussed that this must be due to the fact that we are such a young country and we're so united, whereas Italy is still very divided (politically, linguistically, geographically).  Specifically Sicilians seem to feel closer to North Africans than Northern Italians (say from Torino) and I find that fascinating.  After dinner, we started playing games and we taught them to play Spoons, or "cucchiai" in Italian.  They thought it was hilarious and then we taught them Go Fish, or "va' a pescare" in Italian.  They taught us a few games as well and we were all having a great time - hard to believe we'd just met a few hours before!

view of the sea from the island of ortigia

Wednesday afternoon Salvo gave us a ride to Siracusa as he was going there for work.  We walked around the Island of Ortigia and marveled at the beauty of the ancient city.  That evening we got a bus to our host Lucio's house in Lentini, Sicily.  He's a retired professor whose wife died 5 years ago so he hosts many people at once to keep his house full :)  I got the impression he really just wanted people around to listen to his stories, but hey we got dinner and a nice bed for 2 nights!  While we were there he was also hosting Biza, a Korean magazine writer and David, a French guy who's been hitchhiking through Europe for 2 years!  Wednesday night was the town's saint day festival, so we took part in the festivities.

festa di sant'alfio, lentini

Thursday we headed back to Siracusa to see the city and go to Fontane Bianche, a lovely beach nearby.  We got in another good day of sunning/relaxing and I was superbly pleased.  We got back to Lucio's house in the evening and the only problem we'd had all week was surfacing - no place to sleep Friday night.  A guy in Agrigento that had accepted my request weeks ago hadn't responded to my confirmation that week.  As a result I got on CS and tried to find someone last minute.  Lucio said I wouldn't be able to do it, but within 10 minutes I'd found a place in Sciacca, Sicily.

beach in fontane bianche

Most of Friday was spent on the bus to Agrigento.  Etna, the active volcano in Sicily, had erupted the day before and there were huge traffic diversions.  In the evening we arrived in Sciacca and our host Francesco, an unemployed tourism developer, picked us up from the station.  He immediately took us to the beach so we could see the sunset and it was absolutely breathtaking.  It was so hard to believe panoramas like that were real.

gorgeous sunset in sciacca

We arrived at his mom's place that evening (haha, ohhh Italians!) and it was a really nice 3-story beach house and he made us dinner: swordfish!  We watched some movies dubbed in Italian and had some of his mom's cookies.  Saturday his mom made us breakfast (hehehe) and we took the bus to Trapani and spent the entire day on the beach, as it should be.  I got my Sicilian tan going and relaxed under a straw umbrella with my journal, trying to capture the week in words.  Georgina and I sat there and recounted the best of the week, and the results were interesting.

Best Meal: lunch on Carlo's terrace in Palermo (closely followed by the late-night arancina)

Best Sleeping Arrangement: the king size guest bed at Lucio's house in Lentini

Best Conversation: philosophizing with Andrea in Taormina

Most Fun: playing games with Salvo and Giuseppe in Catania

Most Relaxing Moment: beach in Cefalù or possibly beach in Fontane Bianche

I thought that was cool because all our experiences over the week were valued in different ways.  We had great food, splendid company, relaxing moments on the beach, and the pleasure of living la dolce vita for an entire week in Sicily.  Oh, and I should mention that this entire trip was realized in under 200 euro (about $283).  Seven days and seven nights of vacation including round trip tickets, transportation (buses, trains) around the entire island, food, etc.  Kind of impressive, right?  We didn't pay for a single place to stay nor a single dinner.  Can't beat that, and at the same time that's what made our trip so unforgettable.  Viva la Sicilia!

last day on the beach, trapani

My Tax Return: Part II of III

The second installment of my Tax Return saga is back with bigger and better action-packed entertainment! Not really, but it's fairly exciting.  So I got back from Rome 2 weeks ago and got serious about studying for exams that week.  By Thursday I had 2 "A"s under my belt so I was ready to depart on my next adventure: The Netherlands.

Amsterdam for Queen's Day

I'd been wanting to check out Amsterdam ever since I took several Northern Baroque Art classes at UT and studied everything from Dutch portraiture to still life, Rembrandt to Rubens.  A friend of mine from school wanted to go for the last weekend of classes and I thought it sounded like as good a reason as ever to visit one of the most important Northern European ports.  Of course when we made the flight reservation we had no idea we'd booked a crazy holiday weekend in Amsterdam.  April 30 is Queen's Day in the Netherlands - a celebration of the previous Queen's birthday that results in public debauchery that could only be rivaled by Mardi Gras in New Orleans.  Luckily I managed to secure us a place to stay via CouchSurfing, though it was a bit outside the city.

quiet corner of Amsterdam with cute Dutch houses

We arrived Thursday night and our host, Elektra, picked us up from the station.  She's a 45-year-old divorced Dutch woman with 2 grown kids my age.  She was kind enough to offer us a room in her house for 4 nights, so we brought her some delicious chocolate from Torino which she enjoyed.  When we got to her house, she made us each a cup of tea and set out a large spread of cheese, meat, bread and other accoutrements.  We talked for a few hours and found out she is packing up her house and planning a year-long trip around the East: China, Mongolia, Nepal, India, Cambodia.  She said she'd lost her job a year ago in the crisis and she realized that her kids are finally grown and she can take some time to do something she's waited her whole life to do.  How amazing is that?

bikes, canals, and the New Church.

Our first day we took a free tour around Amsterdam, the same company I utilized in Berlin.  We saw the Old Church, Dam Square, The Red Light District, coffee shops, The Anne Frank House, Rembrandt's house, lots of canals and even more bicycles.  What I like most about Amsterdam is that it's known as the city of tolerance.  It's incredibly international, all types of people from completely different walks of life, and everyone's embracing their differences.  Gay, straight, black, white, old, young, Christian, Muslim, Asian, European - there's an incomparable sense of coexistence in Amsterdam.  The Netherlands in general just lets people be who they want to be, do what they want to do.  It hasn't always been that way, as evident from the museum at the Anne Frank house.  But from all that hatred was born one of the most warm and welcoming cities this world has ever known.

Dutch Tulips, not just an OPI nail polish color.

We went to see the Van Gogh museum on Friday night and oddly it seemed like the place to be for locals.  There was a fancy bar in the middle of the museum, great music, the lighting was dimmed and focused perfectly on the artworks.  I remember thinking, this is the first time I've felt like I could describe a museum as sexy.  Only in Amsterdam, I suppose.

On Saturday, Queen's Day, we put on our orange and headed to the city center with Elektra.  Everyone celebrates the House of Orange (thus the color) but it's much like everyone wearing green on St. Patty's.  Imagine now, if you can, the craziest crowd you've ever seen in your life.  A monster truck rally?  Mardi Gras in New Orleans?  Times Square on NYE?  This was crazier.  Think Austin's Sixth Street on Halloween but in EVERY street.  There was a ridiculous party throughout the entire city of Amsterdam - even the canals were filled to capacity with party boats.  After walking through a bit of it and hoping I could make it out without a nasty bruise or glass permanently lodged into my foot, we found a quiet bar near the canal and camped out by the water, waving at passersby on boats.  The only way I can describe the level of debauchery is to tell you that walking through the streets the next day was like wading through a post-apocalyptic wasteland of miscellaneous orange items, trash, beer cans, champagne bottles, and broken bicycles.

craziness on the canals.

Our last day we went to the Rijksmuseum, one of the most renowned museums in the world (you can peruse it here thanks to the Google Art Project).  I was able to see The Night Watch, arguably the most famous work in Rembrandt's oeuvre, and an invaluable piece of Dutch patrimony.  I saw other works that I remember writing papers on and I could still recite their symbolism and significance.  Moments like those, when you can stand in front of a work of art and really experience its power, its meaning, its emotion, that's priceless.  Even my precious tax return couldn't pay for seeing works in person by the old Dutch masters.

After the museum we jumped on the ferris wheel in Dam Square and got a look at Amsterdam from above.  It was a great way to end an unforgettable trip to North Holland.  The only souvenir I bought for myself while I was this 5 euro ring I found at a market; it reminds me of all the cute Dutch houses we saw along the canals:

adorable, right?

Stay tuned for part III of My Tax Return, which promises to be full of intrigue.  I ship out tomorrow evening, if all goes as planned.  Though trouble in Libya may prove to be bothersome for travel (if that's a good enough clue for you).

My Tax Return: Part I of III

Consider this a play in three acts; one of my tales of throwing spendthrifty-ness and pennypinch-ability out the window.  You may have noticed, astute as you are, that my blog hasn't been updated in a month.  *Gasp!*  How can it be, you ask?  Well, I must attribute it to a little thing we all dread in mid-April: tax day.  I successfully submitted online several weeks before the deadline and promptly received a pretty little nest egg that arguably should've been used for some highfalutin responsible purpose.  But that's just boring.

my remedy for Romesickness.

And isn't the saying "seize the day"?  Never was it "seize the boredom."  That would've been a snoozefest.  So I rather chose to seize several days, as many as I could seize, actually.  The first of which was a cheap flight to Rome for Easter weekend.  Talk about good, clean Catholic fun.

2 weekends ago on Friday morning Georgina and I headed to the Turin airport to hop on down to Roma in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the pope.  We had some issues with our flight (turns out we somehow bought a time slot that didn't exist and we had to wait for the airline to offer us the next available flight) but we managed to arrive in Rome and the memories all came rushing back.  As most of you know, I spent several magical weeks in the Eternal City as an undergraduate in the summer of 2006 - likely what cemented my infatuation with the Italian culture.  Being back in Rome was like putting on an old pair of shoes that fit just right - suddenly I remembered streets and buildings, my old stomping grounds (aka gelato shops).  Though it was strange being without my fellow UT students (Madi, Sara, Yu, Nichole) and I kept wishing they were just around the corner.

me at the seaside town of San Nicola

Cheesy sentiments aside, Rome was incredible as ever.  And the great thing about a place like Rome is that in 5 years nothing has really changed.  Heck, in thousands of years some things haven't changed at all.  Now, I made the trip down to Rome considering my parental units were coming in a matter of weeks to discover it with me, so I arranged to meet up with some friends and do non-touristy Rome things.  So as Georgina went to see the Sistine Chapel and Villa Borghese, a friend and I went to the sea near Rome.  We walked along the black sandy beach, checked out a local winery and headed back to meet Georgina for the Via Crucis (when people gather at the Colosseum and the pope reads the 14 stations of the cross).  It was very surreal because it was nighttime and there was a huge crowd, everyone holding candles and they were silent.  I mean super duper quiet.  Imagine one of the biggest crowds you've ever seen but no one's saying a word.  Bizarre.

So I saw the pope, but I was still so far away he was just a tiny dot in a red robe atop the Palatine hill, but whatever.  Toward the end of the ceremony we headed to the barricaded area where the motorcade would pass by later and positioned ourselves to get a better view.  Soon they shut off access to the road completely and the crowd gathered there but couldn't get to the side of the street where we were, practically by ourselves.  A few moments later 10 cars came zooming down the cobblestone street, one in the middle was flanked on all sides by cars with their doors open (for protection) and inside the central car there were lights on and I could see the pope inside!  As I said we were by ourselves on that side of the street, and as the car passed us (a mere 10 meters away) we put up a hand to wave and the pope waved back!!!  At us!  I mean, how blessed am I, right?  The pope freakin' waved at me.  Beat that.

me about 1/2 way up Vesuvius looking out over Napoli.

Hard to beat a drive-by blessing, but the next day was quite fun.  Georgina went to Pompeii and my friend and I went to climb Vesuvius, the semi-active volcano near Naples.  Several hours of driving later and a pit stop for pizza alla napolitana, we were at the base of the mountain.  They handed out walking sticks for the 20 minute uphill hike through lava rocks and before I knew it I was staring into the mouth of a volcano in central Italy and looking out over the Bay of Naples.  Beautiful.  Completely beautiful.

me at the birthplace of pizza: Napoli

We descended the mountain and headed into Naples for another pizza (because 1 in a day isn't enough) and checked out the city and seaside by night.  The drive back to Rome was long, but worth it in the end.  On Easter Sunday Georgina and I elbowed our way through the crowds at St. Peter's Basilica to get a look at the mass service and see old Benedetto in action.  We walked all around the city: Castel Sant'Angelo, Piazza Navona, Fontana di Trevi, Piazza di Spagna, i Fori Imperiali, il Pantheon - all the good spots.  I am still (and will always be) astounded by Rome's beauty.  We had a quiet dinner at a small trattoria near the Trevi Fountain and grabbed an amazing gelato at a place recommended to us by a friend.  (Sidenote: carmelized fig [see below] is my new fave gelato flavor.)

The Vatican on Easter Sunday

 

caramelized fig, pistachio and torrone from Giolitti Gelateria

Monday we were beckoned back to Torino as priorities trumped travel and lessons began again on Tuesday.  It was a lovely Easter weekend and the perfect way to spend 1/3 of my tax return.  I saw the pope, climbed Vesuvius and ate Neapolitan pizza - how much better could life get?

You'll just have to see in the second installment!