Over the Hills and Through the Vineyards

We had the day off from classes on one Wednesday afternoon and decided to take to the hills for a biking adventure in the vineyards. La Strada del Prosecco is the oldest wine route in Italy, nestled in the hills near a cute little town called Conegliano (which is a bit further north from Venice). We bought loaves of bread, cheese, and olive oil at the supermarket and rented bikes-which was actually a pretty big ordeal.

Most people we talked to in Conegliano were shocked when we told them that we wanted to bike the trail. "Ma, le colline! E troppo difficile!" (But the hills! It's too difficult!) We got a lot of hand motions showing us the steepness of the hills and the length of the course. Pretty much, they thought we were crazy.

Luckily, my friend Becky and I had scoped out the situation the previous Sunday. We went to a bar and got a glass of prosecco each, and chatted with the bartenders in Italian to get a better idea of what the Strada del Prosecco is like. The guy we spoke with gave us a detailed map and told us the best places to go. He assured us that if we just biked part of the route and not the whole 30 miles, we'd be okay. Plus, he explained that the most difficult uphill battle would be to the castle just outside of Conegliano, and after that it would be pretty easy biking.

Even though some of them thought were crazy for wanting to bike the hills, people in Conegliano are some of the friendliest I've met in Italy so far. Not only the bartenders, but also the people we chatted with in the market, were incredibly welcoming and encouraged us to practice our language skills. Maybe this has something to do with the lack of a big tourist presence in the town. I've found that in smaller Italian cities (like Padova and Conegliano), people are much more receptive to Americans, especially those genuinely interested in their culture and language.

We wound up finally getting bikes (after thinking the only bike rental place in town was closed, considering a guided bus ride, getting a call back from the bike rental guy, and canceling said bus ride) for about 9 euros each. It was ABSOLUTELY worth it though. The scenery was idyllic, the weather was sunny, and we could spend all the time we wanted taking photo stops. The climb to the castle was, as warned, a bit strenuous. I'm not sure if it was the adrenaline or the impressive view, but once we reached the top, we all hopped off our bikes and started frolicking in the grass.

Back on the bikes, we made our way over to a vineyard cantina to try some prosecco. Prosecco is by far my favorite Italian wine. It's a bubbly, dry white wine made from a particular white grape typical of the Veneto region (and more specifically, of the hills near Conegliano of course!) We taste-tested some, and I bought a couple bottles to bring home. They were super cheap in the hills (around 3-4 euro for a good bottle!). Nicole and I brought our host mother a bottle, and I overheard her talking to her daughters later about how "carino" (cute) it was that we thought of her. Suck-up points received!

On a bike-related but not wine-related note, people in Italy are bicycle MASTERS. In Padova, it's pretty common to see someone zooming through the Prato on a bicicletta while talking on a cell phone with one hand and waving their other in the air. Mad skills.

Possibly the best music video ever...

I saw this the other day and wanted to share. An AMAZING Italian music video by Jovanotti. 

There are actually four versions of the video, all of them hilarious and quirky in their own way. You can see all four of them simultaneously here. Enjoy!

Chocolates, Museums, and Mountains, Oh My!

Torino is just all around A+. The report card for our weekend there involves an A+ for chocolate, an A+ for scenery, and an A+ for museums. 

We made our way to the mountain-enclosed city of Torino for the CHOCOLATE FESTIVAL that weekend, and it was all we had hoped for. We started off with the famous Bicerin drink, which is a hot chocolate dream. It’s an equal mixture of espresso, hot chocolate (Italian style, the consistency of pudding) and latte. In one piazza, two long rows of tents sold every chocolate item you could want, including chocolate pasta, chocolate crepes, chocolate-covered bananas, chocolate condoms, and a rich chocolate spread. At a few booths, they offered shots of chocolate liquor in chocolate cups. We couldn’t resist.

I also discovered my new favorite chocolate: bite-size, thick, creamy milk chocolate pieces in gold wrappers. I bought a bag to bring home to share with friends and family, but I ended up eating them all myself in a few days. I am a horrible, horrible person.

We also visited the Turin shroud, which was fascinating. You can’t actually see it most of the time in the church (only on the rare occasions when the the pope decides to put it on display for the public) but there’s a detailed x-ray photo. I love relics and reliquaries (and the controversies surrounding them), so it was awesome to be that close to one of the most debated about and treasured relics of the Catholic church. Around sunset (we had perfect timing!) we took a glass elevator to the top of the Mole, an interesting building with a cinema museum inside. We caught the sun setting over an absolutely gorgeous view of the mountains, and played a few intense games of “I Spy”.

The Cinema Museum was also really cool. Most of the films were Italian, so I wasn’t familiar with a lot of them, but the setup of the place was so fun. Each room was like a different movie set: a bar fight at a Western saloon, a 50s household, and a weird surreal area with a refrigerator door and toilets to sit on. We saw Charlie Chaplin’s bowler hat (!!!) and a collection of Star Wars masks too. Lots of stuff was interactive, so we had a good time playing around and watching movie clips.

The next day, we made it to the Egyptian Museum, which is the only gallery exclusively reserved for Egyptian art outside of Cairo. There was a temple transported inside (!!!!), two dramatically-lit rooms full of beautiful scultures, and lots of wrapped and unwrapped mummies. If you love Egyptian stuff (oh hey, Alice!) the museum in Torino is heaven.

Overall, Torino gets very high marks. Possibly one of my favorites so far?

My Solo Weekend

So one weekend, all of my friends went to Rome. Since I’ve already been and didn’t want to shell out money for the same sights again, I decided to spend a couple days traveling all by myself. Though I love the shared trips, if only for all the hilarity that inevitably occurs among our group of friends, it was awesome to set out on my own for a while. I’d planned on doing it at some point during my semester abroad, and it was relaxing to be able to do things on my own time, with lots of freedom to take as many photos as I wanted without feeling rushed. Though, on a different note, separating from the group for the weekend did make me realize how close I had become to them over just the first month of being together. We all went out before they left for their night train on Thursday, and they tried (jokingly) to convince drunken me to abandon my alone time and come with them to Roma (“Just...take a stroll to the train station with us and...see what happens!”) I remember realizing how much I would miss them, even just for a few days. My own adventures were totally worth it though.

Friday: I woke up late (and had to explain to my confused host mamma that no, I did not feel ill, I just REALLY like to sleep) and decided to hang out in Padova for a while. Finally had time to draw in my sketchbook in the Prato della Valle, right next to the big fountain in the middle. So relaxing. Ran some errands, and went to my favorite cafe for a while. We call it “The Yellow Place” for its yellow-painted walls, and the woman who works there is like my third mother-after Maria and my real mom of course! Also got my first Italian haircut (a lot of pointing at pictures was necessary!) and it was surprisingly successful. Had dinner and some good conversation with my family, and watched “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” before bed.

Saturday: Hopped on the train and headed to Milan, which is the metropolitan center of Italy. Saw La Scala, the intricate Gothic Duomo (which is absolutely breathtaking thanks to the influence of French architects as well as Italians) and some exhibits at the Palazzo Reale. One was on Futurism and had some pretty cool stuff (I’ll admit, I bought the ticket for this one by accident...Futurism isn’t my favorite). 

The other was an exhibit entirely of Rene Magritte, called “Il Mistero della Natura” (The Mystery of Nature). I liked him before but fell in LOVE after wandering through rooms full of hundreds of his works. His take on surrealism is just so playful and fun. Plus, I learned that he dipped into impressionism for a while too, mixing it with surrealist subjects. The exhibit called in “Surrealismo in pieno sole”. Very cool stuff. Some of my favorites were Empire of Lights, Companions of Fear (pictured), and one with piled up houses that I can’t name. It was a good thing I understand a decent amount of Italian, because the quotes and signs in the exhibit weren’t translated to English-just French to Italian.

When I went back outside, there was a HUGE crowd in the piazza and a big Carnevale parade going on. Kids were dressed up and throwing confetti at each other (and me). They were also spraying silly string and what looked like soap suds (see the hilarious reaction of two targeted girls below). Some punk definitely got me with the soap suds on my way out of the piazza.

I also stumbled upon a big air vent in the street nearby, where people were tossing confetti and watching it soar above in a big whirlwind. It was madness, but wonderful. As the sun was setting, I shopped around the side streets near the Brera district. Window shopping, that is, since most things were outrageously expensive. Chalk it up to Milan’s reputation as the fashion capital of the country. Some of the high-end stores were set up so beautifully that they could have been art galleries. Milan was even more beautiful at night, once everything was lit up.

Sunday: Traveled to Ravenna, and confirmed that I am, in fact, obsessed with mosaics. The mosaic triple-theat of the Baptistery, San Vitale basilica, and Galla Placidia is a heart-stopper. The stars on the ceiling of the Galla Placidia literally glitter, and San Vitale just envelops you in golden goodness. (Yes, that sounds a bit like a Twinkies commercial.)

I also got to practice my Italian while waiting for my train back to Padova, A couple guys at the station could tell I wasn’t Italian and started asking me about my studying abroad here. One of them was Moroccan, and had some good things to say about the “open minds” of people who seek out travel opportunities. One of them was old and a little crazy, and by the time he was trying to tell me I had “the eyes of Mona Lisa” I figured it was time to go. Only in Europe would someone use that line, I swear.

Handy Italian Phrases

In my opinion, these essential words and phrases are right up there with “Nice to meet you” and “Where is the bathroom?”. Plus, some of them are just a lot more fun.

1. Bo. A way of replying to something that you don’t really know or care little about. Done best with a shrug.

2. Che schiffo! One of my absolute favorites, meaning “Gross!” Heard most often in mummy exhibits.

3. Chi se ne frega? The equivalent of “Who gives a shit?” or “Who cares?” because sometimes...you just don’t.

4. Forse...ma non lo so. This means “Maybe, but I don’t know.” For those times when you’re on the fence. Similarly, you can say “Forse si” (“Perhaps yes”).

5. WOW! I know, I know. This one isn’t technically Italian, but our Italian teacher says it in a ridiculous way that I can’t even begin to describe. Ask for a demonstration the next time I see you, and you’ll hear the difference.

6. Andiamo! “Let’s go!” Must always be said with enthusiasm, occasionally with impatience.

7. Bello/Bellisimo. You probably know this one already, but it’s unbelievable how multifunctional the adjective “beautiful” is for the Italians. Pretty much anything positive can be described as “bello”. A step down is “carino” (cute).

8. Pezzo di merda! Means “Piece of shit!” Unfortunate things happen, and now you have a phrase to deal with them.

9. Va be/Va bene. Italians use this all the time to say “it’s okay” or “it’s all good”. The shortened version is a bit more nonchalant or indifferent, along the lines of “whatever”.

10. Niente. A lot of times when you say “Grazie” someone will reply with “Niente”, which basically just means “Oh, it’s nothing!” I find this super cute.

11. Vietato. The word for “forbidden”, because it’s usually good to know when you aren’t supposed to do something.

12. Fare uno scherzo. “To make a joke”. Handy for salvaging misunderstood sarcasm.

CARNEVALE! or That Time I Almost Got Hypothermia

What a weekend.

We went to Venice twice since Carnevale was at its high point. What exactly is Carnevale, you might ask? Pretty much the Italian version of Mardi Gras, except the costumes are cooler and no one yells “Throw me something mister!” and lifts up their shirt.

Maria Pia and some of the staff took us on a short tour through Venice on Friday afternoon. This included one of the awesome, already-paid-for group lunches. After big pizzas, an entire bottle of prosecco between my friend and I, and an amazing meringue dessert, we were ready to begin the festivities.

We slowly (and I mean slowly) meandered our way back to the train station to get ready, and bought masks along the way. The thing about Venice is, you have to accept that you WILL get lost. Street signs are pretty unimportant. Instead, big yellow signs direct you to the five or six main areas of the city, down winding narrow streets and bridges. The whole place is a labyrinth, but a beautiful one. Once you surrender to it, you understand how this maze-like quality is part of what makes Venice one of the most unique cities (at least among the places I’ve been to!).

Once costumes/makeup/masks were on, Carnevale began for us in the main piazza (San Marco) with, of all things, an drag show. The announcer was a male Queen Elizabeth, if that says anything about how Venetians do drag. Afterward, we stumbled upon a dance party in the middle of a random piazza, which included a lot of guys dressed as various furry animals trying to dance with us. (We ended up finding this place again the second night and had a similar situation with guys dressed as smurfs. Go figure.) We danced to a mixture of techno, 80s music, songs from Grease, and the Italian equivalent of the "Cha Cha Slide" song, with silly “dancing” instructions like “salutare!” (greet!) “camminare!” (walk!) and “cappelli!” (hair!). Flash forward to a set of interesting events in a bar, which include a) a lot of free shots, b) one of our friends dancing with a very large, hairy man and c) that same friend falling asleep on a table. Overall, great times.

Amongst all this revelry, you’re probably still wondering about the hypothermia.

Here’s the thing: Italians are moderate about pretty much everything, and that includes going out. They do enjoy their wine and leisure time, but are by no means what we would consider party people. This means that nights end early (many bars close by midnight or 1AM). For some reason, we thought “crazy” Carnevale, the Mardi Gras of Venezia, would be different. Our choice of train times back to Padova was limited to 11PM or 5AM. What did we choose? Yup, the 5AM. We figured if we were going to do Carnevale, we were going to do it right. The following is an approximate chronology of the events that followed:

1:40AM: We decide to leave the piazza and go to the train station to nap for a few hours.

1:43AM: We ask for directions.

1:48AM: We ask for directions.

1:53AM: We ask for directions.

1:58AM: We ask for directions.

2:07AM: We ask for directions.

2:15AM: We near the train station and see several others from the group huddled outside. We are confused.

2:18AM: Our friends inform us that the station is closed until 4:30AM. It is approximately 20 degrees out. We want to cry.

2:23AM: We entwine ourselves with the rest of the group and are still shivering.

2:45AM: Kate informs the group that she would readily become a prostitute if it would guarantee her a warm bed.

2:54AM: A group of Italians sit down near us with a protest banner. Without asking, we grab the end of it and pull it across ourselves like a blanket. Someone mentions that it feels like “liquid ice.”

3:14AM: We begin to fantastize about the perfect McDonald’s breakfast. Alex screams into the night “I JUST WANT AN EGG MCMUFFIN!”

3:35AM: Becky calls us on her way over and asks if we want a hot sandwich. Kate yells (with more than a hint of desperation) into the phone: “GET US ONE. NOW.” Alex takes the phone and asks for a sandwich too, but Becky has no money left. He tries his best not to sob.

3:51AM: The sandwich arrives. Kate takes one end, I take the other, and we eat until we reach the middle. We do not know what is in the sandwich, and never will. After, Kate whispers (too loudly) to me: “I know we shouldn’t talk about it in front of the others, but that was AMAZING.”

4:16AM: I spot a homeless man also sleeping outside the station, and wonder if I could steal his sleeping bag.

4:30AM: The station opens and we rush inside, board our train, and promptly fall asleep.

6:00AM: We arrive in Padova and immediately get a cab. Alex whimpers about Egg McMuffins the whole way home.

This is the only photographic proof of that night. I would have taken photos myself, but I didn’t want to move any part of my body at the time. Moral of the story: Carnevale is fun, but NOT an all-night event.