27 June 2007

technical difficulties

it was my intention to put pictures up with all of these blogs. i'm working on it, but sometimes things in europe take an extra 6 steps, which is exhausting when you're trying to see the city.

i'm in rome now, so i'm going to get out of the hostel and off the computer. i will be updating with more tales and photos as soon as possible. i love your comments. it really makes me feel like i'm still a part of your lives, even though i'm so far away.

florence, part 2

for those of you who are concerned, no i did not rush through florence. i was there for almost 6 days, living a sweet life with good friends. i was surrounded by amazing art and fanastic people. i had amazing luck and even stopped into a jewelry store that my grandmother recommended. life is grand. here's the story:

My first two nights in Florence were spent in the Hotel Jolly with my Riomaggiore friends Ian, Kyle and Phil. When I woke up the first morning, I felt as if I were being pulled out of a tomb. My body was like stone and I could barely bring myself back to life, but I had to change rooms so I needed to pack and move my things. The signora helping us was so nice, with her reddish hair and dolphin tattoo on her chest. She directed us to the central market and suggested some things to do.

We walked down three flights of cool stone stairs and out onto the street. We wandered around the outdoor market where vendors sold leather purses, bracelets and journals impressed with the fleur de lis or the naked graces from Botticelli’s Primavera. I bought a beautiful green scarf, impressed with naturalist designs and looked for Italian sandals. We found a little restaurant called News CafĂ© near the market and I ate savory gnocci with pesto. We wandered toward the Uffizzi and then to Ponte Vecchio before going into the Palazza Pitti to see the gardens and enjoy the day. We found a beautiful fountain with statues of men riding horses emerging from the water. There was an enormous statue of a man’s visage, which was cracked and colored from exposure to the air. We climbed to the top of the palace gardens and saw our first view of Florence. The duomo towers over the rest of the city. It is quite amazing to see the spread of the city through the valley. The Arno cuts the city in half and across it is the Ponte Vecchio bridge, which holds such sweet memories for me.

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After a lot of shuffling, we went to a bar called JJ Cathedral for drinks and waited for Travis. The bar was in the square by the duomo and packed with tourists and kids like us. We got a table outside and I sipped my Caipiroska, making small talk with the New York “artists” until Travis showed up. I was so excited to see him! He looked tanned and healthy, sipping his mojito. I introduced him to my friends, who were really impressed with his talent. He’s so intense with his artistic goals that when he tells people he’s good, but not great yet, they think he’s finger painting. Then they see his work and are shocked. Travis’ art is amazing. I’ve actually never known someone so talented and devoted as him, which is refreshing. I really hope he leads an artistic renaissance with my generation. I’m so tired of pseudo art.

He left us there to go meet Nancy and her mom for dinner and I went back to the hotel with the boys. I got my first phone call from Laura and freaked out. We got our deposit back in full, so I bought a bottle of wine and we continued our drinking. We went out to dinner at a place called the porcupine and had delicious cheeses and Tuscan T-Bone specialty. It is huge and was too much to feed all of us. Even though the waiter from Philly was trying to schmooze us up, we had a really nice time. We went to a place called the Red Garter, of Via de Benci, for drinks and karaoke.

Ian sang Sweet Caroline and I sang Journey, “Don’t Stop Believing” and “Rasberry Beret,” earning myself 2 free shots from the old owner, Vittorio. We drank and partied, meeting a couple really sweet Americans. The group talked and hung out, until we got kicked out of the bar and the bar next door. Since everything in Italy closes earlier, the kids have gotten into the habit of drinking on the steps of churches. Take away beers are cheaper and there’s plenty of room and you can smoke, so people congregate on the steps of old duomos and get wasted, oh the irony. So when we were “asked to leave” the second bar, we took our beers to the steps at Santa Croche and laughed the night away. Craig and Eddie are traveling from Connecticut, taking a break from studying accounting. Heather and her 10 girlfriends are studying Italian textiles over the summer, though they are all getting sick of each other. They were all very energetic and fun to hang out with, though there was definite competition with the girls. They were astounded that I was traveling alone and a little threatened that I was doing it. After an hour or so, I could tell the boys were ready to go home, so we meandered back to the hotel. I was tripping and laughing all over the place. In fact, I burst into a laughing fit on the way home. I felt so lucky to be there and to have had such good luck, to feel so comfortable with these new friends and our situations getting set up in Florence.

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The next morning, I said my goodbyes to my new friends and walked through the city to Via de Benci. I crossed the river and headed left up Via de San Niccolo, where Travis lives. He met me there and led me into their apartment, which is the most adorable Italian apartment I could imagine. There are fantastic nude studies stacked everywhere, a still life set up next to an eisel, a little table littered with apple accessories, and a tiny guest bedroom with a black brass bed and a little Italian style window. Their kitchen walls are covered with blue and white checkered tile and they have a tiny round sink next to a quaint little two top range. Inside their kitchen is the bathroom with a toilet, tiny shower and bidet. I was so happy to be in this little place with its adorable fixtures and simple charm.

Travis and I went for lunch at Ebi’s, meeting Nancy, Jesper and Jay. We caught up over tasty wraps made of pulled chicken and Italian salad. After that, we went for gelato and dropped by the studio to check out what they were up to. The studio is like a room on another planet. It is covered with sketches and paintings, higher quality than photographs. They are not only technically accurate, but they do something that photographs lack. They capture and emotion and a depth that even good photography cannot. I was really excited to be invited into their world to see what they have been doing for the last 5 years. The technical skill, discipline and passion that they have is so inspiring.

Travis and I left Nancy to work on her portraits for the rest of the afternoon and walked back to San Niccolo. I spent the rest of the day on the internet, allowing me to respond to my family’s emails and research some of my travel options. Nancy came home and went for a run, then she and I went to the Florence Wine Gallery to meet some of their friends for Aperitivos. The place is owned by Nancy and Travis’ friend, Christian who is a jolly Italian with a magnetic smile. He suggested some wine for us and we sat down to enjoy some Italian delicacies while waiting for the others to arrive. We had olives, salami, cheese, some strange casseroles and liver pate, which I found really gritty and yucky. Their friends from Angel School of Art joined us. We ate and drank for a while and there was talk of a plan to go to a club called Montecarla, but we parted into two groups. Paulo, Travis, Nancy, and I went to Martinho’s apartment to drink wine and chill. Martinho rode a bike and I rode on the back through the cobberstoned streets of Florence, constantly having to pull to the curb to allow cars to get through the narrow passage way. I held onto his waist and took pictures of the others while they trailed behind us.

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Martiho’s traditional Florentine apartment has white walls and dark wooden accents. He has a huge living room, connected to a kitchen. We drank Chianti and talked about the academy and how proud they are of their work. In Martinho’s second room, there were paintings, sketches, easels and props stored away neatly. There was no wasted paint or misplaced items. Everything was purposefully stored and organized, which is reflective of what I’ve seen for the Angel School in every facet. No wasted energy or misplaced strokes exist in their art. Everything has meaning and importance to the composition. It’s interesting to see most of the students live that way as well. Take Travis: nothing about him is superfluous or unimportant. There is no gristle in his character and you can see that through the sincerity of his actions. It’s impressive to be surrounded by people who have such talent and devotion to their art because it makes me believe that one day the art world will be restored to what it ought to be. Hopefully these people will get the fame and prestige that they deserve.

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Martinho has really made Florence his home, so much that he has been selected for an elite group of Florentine flag twirlers, which is bizarre because outsiders are rarely ever invited to participate in this organization. He pulled out his flag and showed us his maneuvers and then made us all pesto, which tasted like fresh lemon zest. They told me stories John Angel’s villa on the mountain and all the celebrating they do when they finish a term. I could have stayed in that apartment all evening, but we had the others waiting for s at Montecarla, so we had to get going. We walked down to Travis’ bridge and then went to the club.

Montecarla is a members-only club that feels like a brothel the second you walk in. Everything is covered with fake leopard skin and dusted with a soft red light. As I walked up the stairs and into the next room, I was surprised to not see naked bodies intertwined through out the club. It felt like a brothel and the clientele followed suit in their demeanor. I will spare all parties involved from the gory details, but it was quite a sight and it did involve some nipple tassles.

I woke up stale and hung over from our night. Travis, Nancy and I managed to go get a coffee and look around for a sweet, but it was so late in the day that no one had brioche. Instead, we went to the Magi super market and bought eggs, sausage and blood orange juice, which was much better than any meal we could have bought. I had strong tea with milk, toast with raspberry jam and fresh butter, eggs and rich sausage. After breakfast, I walked to the Ufizzi and made a reservation for that Tuesday, when I ran into the Americans I met at the Red Garter: Eddie, Craig and Heather. I was so excited that I decided to go with them to the top of the hill to Michelangelo. We hiked across Ponte Vecchio and up the hill by Travis’ house. We saw a copy of the David, a beautiful monastery, a church and a killer view of Florence. I could sit up there for hours, it’s so beautiful and liberating to be on top of the world, looking down at the business and the commotion, realizing that there’s more than just that microcosm. There are three stopping points along the walk, each expanding the view of Florence in its valley.

There's much more to tell, but some of these things are only special to me. Having said that, I'm going to leave the rest of Florence to my own personal memories. It is an amazing city with so much beauty to offer and hopefully a new artistic renaissance.

the jewel of italy: bassano del grappa


When the train took off from Venice, I sunk into my seat and welcomed my exhaustion. I had held my fears close for hours, fighting off fits of loneliness and imagining worst case scenarios and how to deal with them, and now I realized that nothing could go wrong and soon I would be in Bassamo with Giulia and Jenny. I tried to listen to music and watch the scenery, but I was too busy recovering from my last day in Venice. So I put my feet up and counted the stops until finally I heard the conductor call out our final destination, Bassamo del Grappa.

I stumbled out of the train and saw Giulia’s fauhock and Jenny’s smile and literally fell into their arms. Finally here and finally everything is going to be easy for a minute. We hugged and laughed and took pictures underneath the sign for Bassamo, eagerly savoring our moments of excitement. We walked to her aunt’s house which was right across the street, walked up a staircase made of various colored marble, and set my things down in a bedroom of great windows. I stammered out a few stories and ran around the house, rushing to get ready to go out in Bassamo. We called Laura to say hello and then walked to a bar, bustling with excitement at how unreal it was for all of us to be together in Italy together.

Giulia is so proud of her hometown, and rightly so. Bassamo is a jewel, hidden away from the tourists of Italy. Its stone streets, lined with shops and restaurants, lead to the city’s river that spills out from the mountains. I was talking away at my girls, when Giulia says, “you have to see this” and leads me to a bridge. Mid-sentence, I stopped, struck by the beauty of my environment. Ponte Vecchio is a stunning old bridge made of cobblestones and strips of stone which pave the way to the other side. Since it is lit, when you look at the water, you can see the rich green color of the river and fish swimming upstream. This is Bassano: a tiny little village with a cosmopolitan feel. We walked back across the street and to the bar, where we met Giulia’s friends: Shumi, Tota, Paolo, Yoyo, Guido, and Carlotta. The night was spent drinking beers by the river, making jokes and dancing to “You Shook Me All Night Long” and Rage Against the Machine. When the bar closed down, we piled in Guido’s car and led a caravan of motorcycles and mopeds to Shindy.

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Shindy is Bassamo’s late night club, where we drank mojitos and lounged all night. It is a mansion with various levels, both inside and outside. My favorite place in the club is a little terrace covered with Persian rugs and pillows, where you sit and overlook all the action, but can hear the people around you. I sat there with James, a British songwriter, sipping mojitos until it was time to go. We left the bar as dawn was breaking and while I was waiting for everyone to get to the car, I sat in a little field and enjoyed the morning. The sky between the mountains was turning a pale, luminous purple the silver light stuck the blades of grass.

We all piled into someone’s car and began the ride home, out of the woods by Shindy and the mountains on the outskirts of town. We came to a round about and Giulia insisted that we stop at this little coffee shop, where her mother would wrap up the nights when she was young. The owner was so glad to see us, so we stood for coffee and I continued chatting with James over a Macchiato and a brioche. When we left, we decided to walk from there, so we meandered through the streets in a silly, drunken stupor. Giulia humped a statue of Mary outside of her elementary school and I did a back bend to get rid of my hiccups. That night, we all three slept at her aunt’s house with the huge windows open and the morning breeze blowing in.

The next morning when I woke up, I made arrangements to go to Rome two days later so that I could go back to Venice with the girls. They told me they were going the night I arrived, so I went ahead with my arrangements so that I would be able to go with them. To me, this time with them is priceless. After that, I woke up Jenny and we went to meet Giulia at her Noni’s house. She lives on the other side of the Ponte Vecchio bridge and to get there we walked through a bustling Saturday market. We bought beautiful purple orchids for her and joined her for lunch. She made a cold risotto from ground peas and fresh veggies with tomato sauce as a side. We talked and laughed with her until she was ready for her nap. Noni is such a special lady. She is so happy and personable. It is really a pleasure to be around her. She is all smiles and welcomes, very sincere with her hospitality. She loves to cook and hug you and ask you about yourself. She never wants to stop learning, which is why she has taught herself English and insists on practicing with people. She also never compromises on her happiness, which is why I really admire her outlook on life.

After lunch we went down to the pool and relaxed for a couple hours, soaking the sun and making plans for our trip to Venice. When we were done, we walked around Bassano and took lovely pictures along the river. Along the way, I smelled the roses in a neighbor’s garden and walked in the chilly river. We took pictures of the mountains and the rapids from the bridge and Giulia pointed out the holes in the buildings from WWII bullet holes. We took a bus to a small town called Marostrica, which is known for its life sized chess match. They have posters and postcards of it: the spectators dress in Renaissance clothing and the knights ride real horses along the board. At the end of the match, they set off fireworks from the castle above on the mountain. We walked around the town, stopped in a clothing shop, bought fresh fruit and had coffee in the square.

We left Marosica and headed for aperitivo and beers in Bassano. I was most impressed with Tulia’s friends at Bar Breda. They made us delicious food and welcomed us with open arms. My favorite people were Carlotta’s father, the owner of Breda. He loves to entertain his friends with theatrical displays, like opening up huge bottles of Prosecco by slicing off the top with a sword. We ate bruscetta, flat breads covered with runny cheese and prochutto, and little ham sandwiches. When we had had our fill of laughs and food, we went to another bar to meet some of Giulia’s friends, then I broke off to go back to her aunt’s place for a shower. I got dressed and relaxed for a minute before joining them up at another bar. The night continued with drinks and parties all over town. We went to Sotto by the river, to a bar at the top of a mountain, and then to Shindy which was hosting a random gothic party. We watched the sun come up that morning and enjoyed watching Giulia soak in all of the joys of her home. Maybe it was the hospitality or the cleanliness of this city, but this is my favorite city in Itlay so far. It is, without a doubt, an undiscovered jewel of a town.

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18 June 2007

florence, part 1

our train arrived from pisa at midnight. i strapped my pack on and put on my iPod to listen to my new city theme song: broken social scene's "ibi dreams of pavement (a better day)." the song errupts into joyous shouting and i cannot contain my elation. i literally jump and punch the air in triumph. i am finally in florence, the city i've dreamed of seeing since my childhood (my favorite movie growing up was based in florence and ever since then, i've dreamed of coming here. so i head down a street without glancing at a map, determined to find the arno river. we have no reservation, no idea of where to go but i have to see the city just a little before i can rest easy.

we wander through the piazza of the duomo asking every hotel in sight if they have room, which they don't. finally, we get a guy's number from lonely planet and he walks us to a little hotel that charges us 30 euros a head for 2 huge private rooms with a bath tub. i have never felt so good after a shower/ bath (of which i had both) as i did that night. i sank into my bed and felt my body unfold itself and relax into a feeling of security and success.

the next day found us just as lucky. we wandered about the city market and saw florentine goods from local vendors. i bought a beautiful green scarf and then had pesto gnocci for lunch. we saw the towering green and white marble duomo (cathedral), its steps littered with people. once i knew where the river was, it was like an auto pilot driving me through the city. i knew which direction to turn to see what i wanted. about 2 blocks after the duomo, i turned right on a whim and we found ourselves in the piazza della signoria, a square bursting with people and beautiful statues. it is near the galleria degli uffizi and ponte vecchio.
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ponte vecchio is the bridge that crosses the arno river on which gold jewelers have set up shops for centuries. when i was in high school, i sang an aria about a ring purchased here, so my excitement was unreal. i was facinated by the glittering beauty of the shops built off the sides of this old bridge. we walked up via guicciardini to the palazzo pitti and viewed the gardens. we saw beautiful statues and my first overlook of the city of florence. the duomo dominates the cityscape, but the city stretches on with its orange rooves built into the greenery of the surrounding hills.
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16 June 2007

a wonderous blunder


i left genoa early in the morning and took a 2 hour train to la spezia to catch up with some guys that i met in monterosso the previous day. la spezia was a nice enough port city, but i was not interested in staying there long after such a beautiful hike the previous day. so phil, kyle, ian and i decided to hop on the train to pisa.

only phil, the only on of us actually used to catching trains, put us on the wrong train headed back to riomaggiore, cinque terre. laughing, we decided to have lunch in a cafe that overlooked the cliffs. they were playing david bowie and we settled into eating, each of us eyeballing the beautiful water and cliffs.

this led us to the most wonderful mistake we could have possibly made. laden with our packs, we climbed down the rugged rocks and stashed our luggage between the boulders and jumped into the gorgeous water. it was so cold, i lost my breath. i free dove into the water, liberated by the cleanliness of my environment. we sunned ourselves on the rocks and took turns diving into the water. fifteen minutes before the train to pisa, we climbed out of the water and dried ourselves and got onto the right train.

our luck continued like this for the rest of the day: seeing snow covered mountains from the train, sharing songs and favorite books, finding a place to store our luggage, and getting to pisa right at sunset. we had a dinner and then drank moretti beer while waiting for the train to florence, all the while stunned at how lucky we were to have made such an amazing mistake.

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02 June 2007

i am new orleans

i've always insisted in saying that i am from baton rouge because that's where i was born. i think it's pretentious and fake to say anything else, but when i think of home i don't think of baton rouge. i love the oak trees dripping with spanish moss, the chimes with its ridiculous selection of beers on tap, the etoufee at chelsea's and the lakes around lsu, but that really doesn't feel like home to me. to me, when i think of home, an aroma of new orleans comes to my mind accompanied by a montage of vivid pictures. it's the beignets at cafe du monde at 4 in the morning. the sun rising above the mississippi, pushing the moon on its way. its the bars lit by candles and the streets cluttered with transvestites and frat boys- the whole shebang. that is home to me: new orleans.

i yearn for this city like a drug, like a fix that i need when i'm away. the colors, the smells, the music literally feed me when i'm away. i close my eyes and smile when i think of this place, the closest thing to home i've got.

today, i returned to nola on an errand that led me to a friend's house which led us to a music festival and then lunch at coop's in the quarter. nothing planned or high stress, just easy living. i can feel myself relaxing into this mentality and letting go of all of the bullshit i was dealing with back in miami. people here have nothing to offer but their kindness, and they do it readily. it is such a beautiful shift from the culture of TAKE TAKE TAKE as fast as you can, before someone notices they're being ripped off. i tell you what, this city may not seem like much, but there is a spirit here that is indestructable. there is a vitality here that will persevere. there is a voice here that i admire and, though shabby and rustic it may seem, this town has a heartbeat. having said that, i will proudly, unreservedly pledge the dirty coast mantra, "i am new orleans"
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ps- for bad ass t-shirts about new orleans with an indie flare, check out www.dirtycoast.com. they are bad ass. be a new orleanian wherever you are