In Napoli

A few weekends ago, Stephanie, Chris, Alex and myself, took a trip with a student travel agency to the Amalfi Coast. We left Thursday night at about 7:30pm and arrived in Sorrento at about 2:30am. After watching several movies, including “Under the Tuscan Sun,” I was ready to go to sleep. It was the three guys plus an umm, interesting roommate. But we won’t get into that.

Friday morning came quick, after only four hours of sleep. We had to be at breakfast at 7am and leave at 7:10 in order to catch the fairy to Capri. All 150 students from Florence, to Rome, and Barcelona to London and Paris boarded the hydrofoil that would take us to the Isle of Capri. After the half hour boat ride was over, we split up into smaller boats of about 20 and begun an island tour that started with a trip in the Blue Grotto. Smaller rowboats that tagged onto our boats were the only way to get inside this small place. In groups of five, we crammed in the tiny boat and had to lie flat on our backs on top of each other. Our captain laid right on top of us as we squeezed through the tiny hole, hoping a wave wouldn’t come making it even smaller or even crushing us. The blue light that radiated from the water was unbelievable. Our captain paddled us through to the back of the cave and came back, all while his voice echoed throughout the small space, singing a song in Italian. After almost getting crushed on the way out, we climbed back onboard our bigger boat and continued on around the entire island. The cliff faces were massive and we stopped at a few other smaller grottos and saw a few natural arches before docking in Marina Grande.

We had the rest of the afternoon to ourselves, so we walked up to the town of Capri and enjoyed some lemon granita and the amazing view of the marina and Vesuvius in the distance. Our tour group provided transportation to the hilltop town of Anacapri where we spent the hot afternoon walking around the various limoncello shops and working on our tans. After buying a bottle of limoncello to take home, and a couple of lemons to take back to Florence to cook with, we took a convertible taxi back to Marina Grande to catch the hydrofoil back to Sorrento. We had a few hours before our bus took us out to a bar, so we ate at an all you can eat pasta buffet at one of the hostels that some other friends were staying at.

The next day was beach day in Positano, on the beautiful Amalfi Coast. Thankfully, we could sleep in a little longer this morning, and boarded the bus to drive along the winding roads hanging on the edges of the cliff. After a 40-minute drive, we arrived at the top of the city and walked all the way down to the black sand beach. We stopped at an amazing panino shop called Vini & Panini where you can build your own sandwich. I got salami, fresh tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, pesto and lettuce on foccacia bread. It was so big, he had to cut it in half, and I could have eaten half for lunch and half for dinner. We took our panini with our towels to the beach and had a little picnic. It was the most amazing sandwich I have ever eaten. I usually cannot stand tomatoes –but he put them on without me asking- they were amazing!

We had a few hours to relax and catch up on the sun before another boat tour started. The boat, holding about 40 people, took us around the bend where it dropped us off on a private beach, unreachable by other tourists. The water was crystal clear several yards out into the open water. The whole purpose of this little side voyage, was cliff jumping. I had been waiting for this part of the trip for weeks and it was finally time! There were three different levels to jump from, a 10-foot jump, a 20-foot jump, and a 40-foot jump. We had to start out on one of the two smaller ones before jumping 40 feet off the cliff. Scaling the rock face to the outcropping of rock, I got to the edge of the nature-made platform and realized it was a little higher than it looks from below. But I realized that it was because the water was so clear, I could see the bottom and it looked much further than it really was. I put any little fear aside and jumped out away from the rock and hit the water with a much more surprising force than I thought I would. The water was ice cold since the afternoon sun hadn’t heated the water yet. I swam back to shore and was ready for the next step. I climbed up along the higher path to the 40-foot jump where I ran into a long line of girls waiting to jump. Well, I thought they were waiting to jump, but it turned out they were all arguing who would go first and whether or not they should go at all. I finally realized it wasn’t a line, so I cut to the front. Umm, it was a little higher than I thought it was, even with being able to see the ocean floor. I myself had to take a moment before I went for the jump to what could be a pretty painful impact. I wasn’t worried about the height or the water; it was how I was going to land. A girl who went a few jumps before me, landed partly on her back and a group leader had to help her back to shore because it went numb for a few seconds. This is one jump where you don’t want to do a cannon ball or a belly flop. I planned my jump before making the leap; I would hold my arms down at my side and enter straight as a pencil. I jumped and the force of the air made it surprisingly difficult to hold my arms down. I felt no control over my body as I was free falling into the water and entered with my legs apart, my arms out, and my body slightly tilted back. I hit the water with such a force, I could tell my body didn’t go in straight. My lower back felt numb from the sting for a few seconds before I started swimming back and got the feeling back. I swam back to shore feeling like I had accomplished a lot in the last two seconds.

We got back on the boat and it took us down the coast a few miles and turned around. The rest of my afternoon consisted of staying out of the Mediterranean sun that had scorched my skin throughout the day. I visited the town’s church and bought a fresh orange and gelato and sat under a palm tree people watching until it was time to meet back up for the bus ride back to the hotel. We ate the pasta buffet again and enjoyed the rest of the night at the rooftop bar that the hostel had.

I had an early morning on Sunday, but by my choice. I got up at 7:45, went to breakfast, and then walked around Sorrento looking for a mass at 9am. After accomplishing this very important aspect of my Sunday, I walked about a half hour to the train station to catch a train to Mt. Vesuvius. While the rest of the 150 kids were going to Pompeii that day, I decided I had seen it once already and really wanted to climb the volcano that destroyed the city. The rest of my friends had never visited the remarkably preserved town, so they opted to stay with the rest of the tour. It was pretty chilly that day and I was hoping it would warm up. After arriving at my stop on the train, I hopped in a large van with three couples to take us to the starting point of the hike. This is where I met Joanne and Tom, a retired couple from Philly who were visiting Italy for the first time. They saw my CCM shirt and had to strike up a conversation with me. When we got to the parking lot, I bought my ticket and went to the gate, only to be greeted by a waiting Joanne and Tom. They waited for me to be their ‘guide’ up a mountain I had never climbed and take their picture every few hundred yards. I realized this little hike was about to take me twice as long as I planned. From where we were dropped off, it was about 800 meters to the rim. While it was overcast and chilly in the city below, we were literally above the clouds and could see nothing but open blue sky and the heat of the sun pounding on my already sunburned skin. The path was more of a dirt road, especially since we had to move at one point for a 4x4 SUV to come down. It was much more crowded than I thought it would be too, with families, joggers, and the retirees behind me. There was a souvenir stand half way up, and another two at the top, selling post cards, water, and wine that they make from the grapes they grow at the base of the volcano. I bought a small bottle of Lacrime Christo on the way down.

The view from the top was spectacular! The crater was massive and it was hard to believe it used to be bigger before massive pieces of rock the size of school buses were blown off from the force of countless explosions. It was naturally filled in with dirt and no remnants of molten lava were visible except for the cooled lava flow outside of the volcano from an eruption in 1944. I felt like I was on a floating island in the clouds because the overcast sky was now below me as far as the eye could see. It looked like I could just walk out on the carpet of clouds and walk over to one of the nearby mountains.

The three of us made our way down back to the bus where we were dropped off at the train station. Joanne and Tom asked me if I would like to grab lunch before meeting up with the rest of my tour, and I said yes. We walked over to a nearby cafè where I recommended the pizza margherita, which was created in Naples. I spent the rest of the lunchtime giving them tips and advice about traveling around Italy. They asked me whether they are supposed to tip if there is a cover charge at restaurants and I informed them that there is no tipping in Italy. They were shocked and wished I had been with them during their whole trip! They kept telling me how my mom would never believe that I spent my afternoon with a couple of old retirees. I told them that she absolutely would.

I said goodbye to Joanne and Tom and made my way to the Pompeii ruins to find my friends. Luckily I ran into them on the way out because my phone died! We drove the seven hours back to Florence where after another long weekend, passed out to rest up for the next weekend.

La Gita in Sicilia

Okay so I’ve been really bad about writing lately because I’ve just been so busy traveling all over the place. I’ll give a little peak of what is to come in the following blogs. This one is going to be about my Sicily trip I went on with my class a few weeks ago, then the following will be about my weekend in Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast. Then this upcoming weekend, I’m actually flying back to the US for the weekend for my brother’s wedding. During that week, my high school Italian teacher will be in town with a group of students from my alma mater, so I’ll get to go around with them some. The weekend after that is Easter and I’ll have plenty to write about there. I’m planning on going to Rome for the first few days of the Tridium, but I’ll be in Florence for Easter Sunday because I was asked to do a reading in English at the Duomo! I am so honored I’ll be reading at the Duomo on Easter Sunday in front of thousands of people and the Archbishop. Florence has a history with the Duomo and Easter. Check it out on the Duomo’s website and this video.

Just like my trip to Rome with my class, the school also planned our trip to Sicily. We arrived at the train station at 8am to take the hour and a half bus to Pisa to take our hour and a half flight to Palermo. When we got to the airport, my flat-mate Dray, realized he had forgotten his passport at our apartment –and hour and a half away in Florence. Luckily, he was able to use his driver’s license, but our return trip was with another airline that doesn’t accept anything but a passport. Needless to say, it all worked out; he took an early train back to Palermo to catch another earlier flight on the same airline that accepted his driver’s license.

We were greeted by our tour guide, Steven at the Palermo airport, and our driver Antonio drove us to our first stop. It was a memorial to Falcone, a judge involved in the crackdown against the mafia in the 1980’s. The road from the airport to Palermo was rigged with thousands of pounds of explosives and detonated as he and his wife and security team crossed unknowingly into the trap. Pictures of the road post explosion, looks as if a large plane had crashed into the highway. We made a couple of other quick stops at random memorials to different mafia related events before being dropped off at the Palermo Cathedral for a quick tour. We took a short walk around the rest of the city including a stop at a Dominican church that I had visited four years ago when I was in Sicily.

After checking into our hotel, we had a little free time to explore before meeting back at the hotel to walk to dinner. We had dinner at a local restaurant that is guarded 24/7 by the police because a few years ago, its owner refused to pay his protection fee to the mafia and is one of the very few businesses in Palermo that has no ties with the mafia. More than 90% of businesses in Palermo to this day pay security fees to the mafia or are tied to them in one way or another.

The next morning, we were taken to a small hilltop top above Palermo called Monreale, known for its basilica, mosaics, and ceramics. We had about an hour of free time here until our bus took us to Portale della Patria, an open field in the mountains outside of Palermo where a May day picnic was taking place with hundreds of people, and a member of the mafia opened fire from the above rocks, killing dozens of innocent people. To lighten the atmosphere, we brought our lunches here to eat!

Our drive continued on to Corleone, a town renowned for its ties to the mafia. We arrived to almost a ghost town with only a few locals peeking their heads out their windows and balconies seeing who it is. We took a very dry tour of the Anti-mafia museum, which consisted of old black and white photographs on the walls of former mafia bosses. We left Corleone for our hotel stay in an old train station about 12 km outside of the city. We drove for what seemed like a long time along the winding roads in and around the mountains until we went down a small road leading to a building with hammocks hanging in trees outside. We had no idea we were venturing into agricultourism. Remnants of the old track were visible everywhere including the now gravel running path that winds in and out of the valley below, looking down onto a peaceful lake. It was the most relaxing hotel stays I had ever been to. A group of us took a hike up the hill to the small town that the old station serviced about 10 minutes away. A hunting lodge the size of the White House stood front and center in the town square, now turned into a museum. Signs for all sorts of walking paths, horse paths and bike paths leading up and around the mountain, dotted the street corners.

Dinner was provided to us that night and we certainly felt underdressed for the occasion. Apparently, the hotel is known all over Corleone for having the best food ever. The fifteen of us, including our teacher, Steven and Antonio, were seated at a large L shaped table. We were first served champagne and then endless bottles of wine. Literally. Once we finished a bottle, which only took 10 minutes, they brought out a new one. I sat next to Antonio our driver who doesn’t speak a word of English. I knew with a little wine, I could spill my Italian out without even thinking about it. I literally spoke in Italian the rest of the night. Dinner started at 8pm and I got to my room at about 12am. We had so much fun that night and Antonio was very impressed with my language skills.

Sadly the next morning, we had to leave our paradise in the Sicilian mountains and continued on our long drive to Cefalù, a beautiful beach town about an hour east of Palermo. We arrived from above the city and had an amazing view of the bright blue water. Just like Cinque Terre, the horizon blended together seamlessly like a monochromatic painting. We checked into our beachfront hotel with a balcony and met up with Steven for a quick walking tour of the town. Our first stop was the town’s focal point, the Cathedral. Stephanie and I had been itching to find somewhere to go to mass all day and we could hear a pipe organ playing inside. We quickly ditched the group and ran up the steps of the church just in time to catch the beginning of mass.

After mass, we were split up from the rest of the group and she decided to go shopping, while I decided to climb a mountain. Yep, the town is built at the base of a mountain, which hoists the ruins of an old fortress and ruins of a temple. Now, the only inhabitants that I ran into were sheep and goats. There was a set of stairs that led up to the first defensive wall that surrounded the fortress. A man that looked like he lived on the mountain sits there and records what country and city you are from. I climbed a little rougher path up to a false summit where there were magnificent views of the town and bay that the city in nestled into. This level was surrounded by a newer wall that offered terraces looking out over the bay and the ruins of a former Greek temple. The rest of the way up was steep, loose rock sheep and goat trails spotted with fresh presents from the nearby flock. The trail was hot and sweaty which didn’t help the smell. Finally after what seemed like hours, I finally reached the top. It actually did take me about three hours to complete this small feat, but all the sweat was well worth it. Climbing on top of the highest point of the ruins offered me unobstructed 360-degree views of the surrounding area. It was absolutely gorgeous! Off in the distance, I could see two of the Eioli Islands off of the coast. The sun was beating down on me and I wasn’t getting any less thirsty, so I made my way down relatively quickly. After only a few minutes, I ran into the flock of sheep and goats completely blocking my path down. I was telling them ‘excuse me’ in Italian and it seemed to work. It was so precious to see a couple of baby lambs running after each other. I did almost have a run in with a couple of aggressive goats that were in my way. One of them turned around to get out of my way and as he did so, head butted another goat, making both of their front legs fly in the air. I was a little freaked out at first because they both had horns and I knew one head butt into me meant me being impaled on a tree! I cautiously made my way past them to safety and continued onward.

After a few hours rest in my hotel room, we met up with Steven and Antonio to take us to a wine tasting. We drove about 25 minutes up into the mountains to an old convent, which was converted into a winery. We got a private tour of the facility and saw how the grapes went from being grapes on the vine, to wine with dinner. The process was amazingly long and very risky. One small mistake and entire barrels have to be dumped. We had dinner at their restaurant and tried some of the wine that they made from grapes that grew on site.

We went to bed that night absolutely exhausted! Me from climbing the mountain, and the rest from lying on the beach –so tiring, isn’t it? We got up early the next morning for our drive back to the Palermo airport where we flew into Bologna. We took the train back to Florence and I passed out. It was such a memorable weekend, but so exhausting!

Pictures will be posted later! I leave for the US in a few hours and I have a ton to do!

Cinque Terre

The other day, I said San Gimignano became my favorite town in Italy, well I think I just topped that. Cinque Terre, five lands, is an area of the region of Liguria that has been declared a National Park of some sorts. It is made up of five paesini or little towns, that are built one on top of the other on the cliffs along the bright blue Ligurian Sea.

My Italian Politics teacher, Adriano, took our class and the rest of our group for a field trip, instead of having class that day. We were up at the crack of dawn to meet him at the train station at 6:45am and just barely made it on. The long three-hour train ride took us from Florence to Pisa, then to La Spezia, then Corniglia, one of the five villages. During our stop in La Spezia, we bought panini, snacks and drinks to take with us. We were planning on doing the coastal walk, but we found out that mudslides ruined all but one of them in the fall. Luckily, there is the mountain trail that we ended up taking, and was totally worth the extra effort.

We were fortunate enough to have perfect weather for the hike. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and there was a slight breeze coming off the sea to cool us down. We hiked about two miles up steep rocky trails and along vineyards and olive orchards until we got to the highest point of the trail. The view from the top was indescribable. All around on the hillside are tiers and tiers of grape vineyards planted on terraces all the way up the mountainside. I can’t reiterate how blue the water was and how beautiful it looked in contrast to the green mountainside and the brightly colored towns perched on hillsides. It was impossible to distinguish where the sea ended and the sky started.

We made our way down along the walls of the terraces, teetering on the edge of a long fall down. After what seemed like a million steps down adjusting my legs from feeling like rubber bands, we finally arrived at the next town of Vernazza. It is a beautiful little town that has become overrun with attracting tourists. Adriano was telling us how the restaurants place boats outside their doors to make it seem like they just went fishing that morning for the day’s catch. Despite knowing it was all a ploy, several pictures were taken. The town, like most of the towns in Cinque Terre, is built on the cliff side with one building on top of the other. It was a little after noon, so we had about an hour to eat our lunches. I look the opportunity to climb out on the bright marble rocks in the middle of the cove, find a bird poop-free spot, and eat my panino right there. It was so warm I took off my socks and shoes and rolled up my pant legs. It was such a gorgeous view looking up at the town and the vertical cliff faces with the bright blue sea behind me.

We next made our way on the famous, Via dell’Amore, the road of love, that winds its way along the coast, the one path not washed out my the landslides. This path was much more manageable since it was paved with flat stone and could practically be driven on. All along the way were messages and names spray painted on the rock face of lovers who had previously made the journey. Love Locks, a very popular hobby of young couples, covered every lockable surface along the way. After only about 30 minutes, we arrived in our final destination of Riomaggiore to catch the train back to Florence. A gelato was definitely in order to cool down after the long, but beautiful hike along the most famous coast in the world. 

Posts coming soon!

I have soooo much to write about, but no time to write! Wednesday I went hiking in Cinque Terre and this weekend, I've been on a class trip in Sicily! It's been an amazing weekend and I can't wait to write all about it.

Expect something on Wednesday night! Ciao!

Four Weeks Left

With only four weeks left in my escapade overseas, I decided to take time out of my busy day, (well I’m actually just bored on a Wednesday night), and do a little reflection of my trip.

 

It’s crazy to think about my trip already coming to an end, especially when it seems like it just started. As I look back on it, I feel like I haven’t accomplished or fulfilled everything I wanted to do. One of the biggest things holding me back was probably the terrible exchange rate between the US dollar and the euro. I had so much more planned in my head, but limited time and money prevented me. It stinks to think that I never got to do some amazing trips and go to amazing places, but that’s what will make me come back for more. Yeah, maybe I only added three new stamps in the passport, but it has really allowed me to explore Tuscany more than I expected. Taking daytrips to smaller towns that I wouldn’t have otherwise done, such as San Gimignano, Lucca, Viareggio, Siena and Pisa, has really made me appreciate the Italian culture much more. I’m living in Italy, learning Italian, cooking Italian, eating Italian, drinking Italian, and speaking Italian, so why not travel Italy? I’ve learned so much from these little towns that haven’t been spoiled by tourism.

 

Another thing that has surprised me is my improvement in Italian. I knew that it would improve, but I’ve really surprised myself. It’s really cool to be walking down the street and understand a group of people talking to each other, or be able to order my whole meal and get what I ordered, or even getting bumped up a couple levels of Italian classes. Knowing the language, and actually knowing it, not just using some phrase book or going off of what you remember your parents or grandparents teaching you growing up, helps so much. I remember the first time I came and couldn’t even pronounce the name of my hotel! Now, being able to effortlessly carry on a conversation is becoming second nature. I just hope that when I go home, I’ll be able to keep it up, because they always say, if you don’t use it, you lose it.

 

Now for food. I. Love. It. There are so many dishes in America that we consider Italian, but aren’t Italian at all. And there are so many dishes here in Italy that are hard to come by in America. One dish I recently learned and made, is a typical Florentine dish that was invented around the time of Napoleon. His wife was living in Florence and one day demanded something to eat. Her servants quickly came up with a dish to suit her needs. The dish is called, Tasche di Marie Louise, Pockets of Marie Louise, and is a piece of chicken with prosciutto and cheese folded inside and secured with a toothpick. Fry it up in olive oil and butter in a skillet and it’s one of the best combinations of flavors in one bite ever! The sweetness of the chicken combined with the saltiness of the prosciutto, plus the smokiness of the cheese is overwhelmingly good. What I’ll miss the most is our family dinners. Every once in a while, I’ll dress up in my chef’s jacket and hat and cook up a big Italian dinner for all 13 of us at one of the girls’ apartments. I love cooking for large groups, and for other people in general. It’s great to get other people’s opinions and the praise :)

 

 

I love going to mass in the Duomo. It’s an experience unlike any other. Being able to look up and realize you are under this enormous dome is amazing. I tend to go to the Italian mass on Sunday mornings as opposed to the English mass on Saturday nights, because not only is it great exposure and practice, but because it is so much more expressive than English. I went to mass last Friday for the celebration of the Feast of the Annunciation at a famous church in Florence called, Santissima Annunziata, where the Archbishop celebrated mass. The first thing he said in his homily was, “Oggi, il Figlio di Dio si fa carne nel seno di Maria,” meaning, “Today, the Son of God was made flesh in Mary's womb.” It just sounds so much more passionate and convincing in Italian than in English. Yes, Christmas is the day Jesus was born, but with Mary’s Fiat, her unresounding yes to God when she says, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. Let it be done to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38), is the day that God was made Incarnate. It is the day Mary conceived Christ in her womb, the first day that God lived on this earth as a human being. The word “Incarnate” comes from Latin for, made flesh, but I’ll use Italian since it’s more relatable. The word “carne” means meat, or flesh, so it’s funny how the Feast Day fell on a Friday of Lent, allowing us to eat meat!

 

I’ve briefly touched on Katharina, my Art History professor, but I haven’t really talked about my other teachers. That’s another thing I’ll have to get used to back at Mason, calling my professors by their last name! Everyone here goes by their first name; I have Katharina for art, Adriano for government, Francesca for Italian, Jim for psychology, and Franceschina is the secretary. One day, Adriano was staring out the window before class and commented on how it would be a perfect day to go hiking. So the next class, he filled us in on the details for a class hiking trip to Cinque Terre, which I actually just got back from on Wednesday. Francesca is just so much fun. She’s not only my Italian teacher, but also the Director of Studies for the school. Like all my Italian teachers, she loves me as her student and constantly pokes fun at me in front of the whole class. All three of us.

 

I guess you can’t see all of Europe in one trip, so I guess I’ll just have to come back again some day. All though, money might be a problem, so you can just send a check to my home address written out to me and my mom can deposit it into my account. JUST KIDDING! (My mom’s going to kill me when she reads this!) At this point, I’ve got to make the best of what I have left. I still have a whole month living here, and there’s so much more to do. I guess I better get busy!

Lucca

Since Monday is a day that most of my classmates have class and I don’t, I decided to wander off on my own little trip to a small medieval town called Lucca. The city is renowned for being completely surrounded by a wall more than 2.5 miles around. Although it’s a little bigger than San Gimignano, Lucca still offers that small town atmosphere that is notorious in Italy. With no one special attraction to see, Lucca offers visitors surprises around every corner.

Ariel view of the city. If I could have taken this picture, I would have. 

I started my day off with just getting myself familiar with the city, going down major streets, finding major churches, and trying to kill time until places started to open for lunch. I had to stop for a pastry at a recommended pasticceria in Piazza Michele where Buccellato Taddeucci stands, a 130-year-old caffè with a stunning 19th century interior. I was planning on going to another famous caffè called Di Simo Caffè where local legendary opera composer Giacomo Puccini used to hang out, but it was closed.

Caffe that Puccini frequented.

Luchesse cuisine offers some of the best meats and fish in Italy, with the fresh supply of seafood coming in daily from Viareggio. I again referred to my Rick Steves guidebook, which brought me to Vecchia Trattoria Buralli, located in quiet Piazza Sant’Agostino. For the fixed price of 10 euro, I had bread, a traditional risotto type dish made with tomatoes and basil, polenta covered in scamorza, roasted potatoes and a caffè. I was absolutely stuffed walking around the rest of the afternoon!

I planned out everything I wanted to see and do for the day to get the right balance of churches and sites in the town. I started off with churches, which Lucca is full of. Beginning with San Martino Cathedral, I bought a combo ticket to tour the church, the museum and the old baptistery-turned church. The Cathedral is nothing much to look at since most of it is under restoration, but then I noticed a strange birdcage like construction on the left side. The cage holds the most revered object in Lucca, The Volto Santo –The Holy Face. The wooden crucifix was allegedly sculpted by Nicodemus in Jerusalem and set afloat on an unmanned boat and landed in Tuscany where it was miraculously carried by wild oxen to Lucca in 782. The jeweled armor that covered the body of Jesus is displayed in the Cathedral museum next door, including the silver shoes, and golden crown.

Volto Santo with replicas of the jeweled clothing.

Right across the Piazza is San Giovanni, which used to be the old baptistery for the Cathedral. There is nothing to look at in the church except for the bare stone walls. You wouldn’t think anything special of this church until you walked to the altar and looked down. Underneath the entire church are the ruins of the old baptistery and ancient Lucca. Descending a set of stairs to the underground maze of ruins, all you have to walk on is a narrow creaky walkway leading you from Roman houses to baths, to workshops with kilns and even the still intact tiled baptismal font. These ruins were by far, way better than those at the Duomo in Florence.

The old baptismal font.

I then decided to take a break and do something a little different. I rented a bike for an hour for only three euro, and rode around the top of the city wall. It was one of the neatest things I’ve done so far. The wall itself is nearly 100 feet thick built into a mound of dirt and faced with bricks to absorb cannonballs. For nearly a century, the city allotted one third of their taxes to be spent building the wall, and proved to be a wise investment. It only took me about 15 minutes to make the loop around, past couples holding hands on a leisurely walk, families out for a bike ride, joggers in their running clothes and of course, the beautiful town of Lucca. I spent the rest of my hour riding through the town itself, discovering more and more around every corner.

Pretty cool bike ride!

I came across Piazza del Anfiteatro, an oval shaped piazza that once held a 10,000 seat ancient Roman amphitheater but was torn apart brick by brick to be used for other building projects. It gives off a ghostly atmosphere and makes you feel like you’re in the middle of the arena getting ready to fight, as all the buildings tower around you like stands. I rode on to San Frediano, a church built by the pope at the time to show up the Cathedral built by Lucca’s Bishop. The pope wanted pilgrims passing through Lucca from northern Europe, to remember to continue on to Rome before spending too much time in Lucca. I continued my bike ride around more side streets in this wonderful city until my hour was up. I was then ready to get off the ground and get a different view of the city.

Walking into the piazza.

One thing you may not know about me is that I love heights. I love climbing and tall buildings, flying, ladders, and towers. So of course, I had to climb not one, but two towers while I was there. The first one was the Clock Tower, Torre delle Ore, which contains a hand-wound Swiss clock. The climb up was probably four times as tight as the tower in San Gimignano and probably half as safe. Since it was still low season, I was the only one in the tower, so there was no line and nobody to wait behind on the narrow stairway. Once at the top, the crouching, pigeon ducking, and head hitting was all worth it. The small 15 foot by 15 foot platform at the top offered the best 360 degree view of the city.

So I descended the same way I came up and walked down the street to the next tower, Torre Guingi, belonging to the Guingi family. This tower was much more accessible and even had a bookstore at the base. At the top, you come to an unexpected tower-top garden made up of several small trees providing lots of shade. The tower is very distinctive from a distance by its unusual arborous top.

Torre Guingi from Torre delle Ore.

After my decent, it was almost time to make my way back to the train station. I decided to stop in a church I had passed by when I was first walking around town, called San Giusto. It was a small church in comparison to the other basilicas and cathedral, but it had a much personal feel to it. I knelt for a few minutes to pray, when an old man comes out from behind the altar, and starts scrapping the wax from beneath the two large candelabras. He saw me, stopped, and came over. He said, “Bravo!” and at first I didn’t understand and was a little confused. He repeated himself and then I understood why he was so happy with me. He probably wasn’t used to seeing anyone actually come in the church to pray rather than take pictures, let alone a twenty year old. It turns out he didn’t speak a word of English, which I always see as a plus so I can practice, and we had a short conversation about where I was from and where I’m studying, etc. It turns out he lives right next door and takes care of the church since there is no dedicated staff. He told me to follow him to the back where the Sacristy was and pulled out a little desktop picture of the image of Our Lady of Lourdes and Bernadette, which is behind the altar. He explained how the statue itself came from Lourdes and the church had gone through many renovations. He turned on all the lights for me to see the full beauty of his little church, which he seemed so proud of. After a few more minutes of chit chat, I had to leave, but he told me that next time I am in Lucca, to stop be to see him, as if the city wasn’t enough! That desktop image of Our Lady sits on my desk right now, and I expect it will do so for a long time, reminding me of my trip to Lucca.

San Gimignano

After spending the last few days in Florence, I needed to get away and explore new cities full of history and culture that are only a short train ride away. So Saturday brought my roommate Alex and myself to what is now one of my favorite cities in Italy, San Gimignano. It is known as the tower city, because in its prime, boasted 72 towers within its city walls. Now, with only 14 remaining, it’s still can’t shake the name.
 

The only way to get to the city is by either a train or bus to a small town called Poggibonsi, and then take another bus for about 20 minutes to San Gimignano. Driving through the Tuscan countryside, through vineyards and rolling hills, the city ominously rises out of the horizon like the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz. It gives off an almost spooky feeling, as if it were a haunted mansion in the distance, with its gray stone turrets popping up in a cluster.  Once inside the city wall, which keeps out both traffic, and the modern world, it doesn’t seem so spooky anymore.

San Gimignano

We were immediately hungry as the smells of the city filled our nostrils. We had a Rick Steves guidebook with us and decided to do the walking tour. The first stop was a small restaurant directly to the left of the gate up a small flight of steps leading to a piazzetta where the restaurant was. It was about 12:30 and it was packed. Rick highly recommended the place because of the amazing food and low prices, so there was no turning down the two-hour wait. We decided to walk around the city until 2:30 and found ourselves walking on the outside of the city walls on an old path that was well maintained and had amazing views of the countryside. We went back into the city where we came across the Piazza della Cisterna, where a well is the focal point of the rotund square. The well has been there for centuries and is apparent from the deep grooves carved into the outer rim from years of fingers grasping onto the ledge.

The path along they city wall

The countryside outside the wall is covered in vineyards and olive groves

The well. Notice the grooves around the side!

Moving onto the adjoining piazza is Piazza del Duomo, where the main focal point is… the Duomo. For a few euro, tourists can climb the tower that dominates the piazza, something we would do after lunch. After trying to kill time until our reservation, we made our way back to Trattoria Chiribiri to have some local food. The city and the region are known for cinghiale, roasted wild boar. As soon as I read about it, I knew I was going to have to have it. I ordered the lasagnette al cinghiale, which are wide noodles in the cinghiale sauce. It. Was. Amazing. It tasted a lot like roast beef in a tomato sauce, but better. We split a half-liter of wine and our bill was only ten euro apiece! We then went back to Piazza della Cisterna where we enjoyed some of the best gelato ever. Literally. The gelato maker, Sergio, was a part of the team that won the official Gelato World Cup. I got a cone with Rum Cappuccino, Ciocolato all’amaretto, and a saffron flavored gelato. San Gimignano is known for having the best saffron in Italy, so of course I had to try some!

The Duomo

The amazing restaurant

Gelato!

The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering around the quaint medieval town and out to a small olive grove in a garden with a small ruined tower offering the best view of the city. It was starting to become cloudy so we knew we had to make our way to the tower before it closed due to rain. On our way, we came across Sant’Agostino, a church built by the Augustinians in the 1200’s. I stopped by the bookstore to browse their selection and came across a small Daily Prayers book in Italian. It has a bunch of simple prayers that we say everyday, but in Italian, and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to learn some more Italian while growing in my faith. I was looking a little more and came across The Confessions by St. Augustine, written about twelve years after his epic conversion. This book is deeply respected in our faith and I thought it would be a good opportunity to start reading it, especially buying it from a church named after him! When I checked out, the cashier began talking to me in Italian and said I was very spiritual. We began talking a little bit and then he asked me if I was a Seminarian! I was kind of taken aback by this question, not expecting it, and quickly responded, “uh, no.” It was a nice reassurance to me that my faith life was becoming more apparent in my everyday life, which is the whole goal.

View of the city with the olive groves

We hurried on to the Torre Grossa where we climbed the 218 steps to the top. Along the way was a small museum displaying some pieces of art by Lippi and an altarpiece of St. Gimignano holding the town as it was with all 72 towers, in his arms. Once to the top, the view of the city was amazing. The city is already on a hill, so being 200 feet on top of the hill gives you stunning views of the Tuscan countryside and the surrounding towers.

From on top of Torre Grossa. You can see Sant'Agostino at the top of the photo.

Me at the top of Torre Grossa! Oh, and I got a haircut a few weeks ago.

On the way back to the bus stop, I had to stop by an enoteca to buy a couple bottles of the city’s infamous wine. Tuscany, and Italy in general, is more well known for its red wines, but the best white wine in the region comes directly from San Gimignano. Their Vernaccia di San Gimignano sells like hotcakes at IHOP. Every store literally has pallets of bottles of Vernaccia for a very cheap price. I bought each of my bottles for only 3.90 euro! Although I’m much more of a red wine kinda guy, a good local product never hurts. I love that you can only get it from the source, so once it runs out, you have a good reason to return! San Gimignano is most definitely a place I will be returning to one day.