Pictures Please

So I've started to upload some travel pictures onto my flickr site. Feel free to make fun of me trying to figure out my dSLR. It's a work in progress. Here is the link, and enjoy:
http://flickr.com/photos/chalfinpie/

Londra Chiamando!

Picture: The Pisa airport really, really likes pigeons. Seriously. This is only a small sample of the pigeon tribute action going on in this place.

So I can recap really quickly my week:
School. Food. School. Wednesday was a holiday: beach trip to Viareggio. Swimming, tanning, rain. I also climbed a clown statue; fun was had by all. Next evening I was off to London.
London
First of all, allow me to comment on the quality of service on Ryan air. It sucks.
Anyhow, I got to London somehow all by myself. And by London I mean Stansted airport, which apparently is a little bit different. I slowly had several realizations, the sum of which amounts to a case of mild culture shock, I suppose. Here are my revelations, in chronological order, about London:
1. It's a lot more eff'ing cold in London than in Florence.
2. They speak English everywhere (though sometimes indecipherable)!
3. They are nice to you. Even helpful, I daresay!
4. Buildings are new. Buses are on time.
5. HOlycrapeverythingcostsamillionpounds.
So I get off the plane and try to figure out how to find the Stansted express. Sadly, it had stopped running, so I hurried over to the bus ticket booth to find my way to Queen Mary College, part of the University of London, where Sadaf studies (oh, by the way, I was visiting one of my best friends on God's great Earth, Sadaf of the University of Southern California and the greater Los Angeles area). Still in Italian mode, I pushed my way through to the front of the line, cutting off an (ironic) italian to buy my bus ticket. I grabbed it and boarded the bus as quickly as possible. Cozy in my seat snacking on box of chocolate chip cookies, I watched that very Italian woman I cut in line run after our coach as we pulled away. I laughed to myself a little. This is what Ryan air does to me.
On the bus, I was quite excited and realized how much I love traveling alone. Good thinking time, no groups to herd about and wait for as they take a wee (yes I picked up some London-ish while I was there). Perhaps, I thought, I shall take some time after the Florence program to travel alone for a few days. Ireland, maybe. I've always wanted to go. My attitude towards travelling alone would soon shift dramatically, as I was to see on the voyage home. Sit tight.
So I take a cab--driven by a half Jewish-American, half British orphan who proved to be quite friendly, full of paternalistic advice, and very much so racist--to Queen Mary near the Mile End bus stop. I meet Sadaf, we chat until 4am, and time for bed.
Next day (Friday), we woke up early to get over to Lord's for a grand ol' time watching a cricket match. Strange experience. Turns out people don't really go to cricket matches to watch cricket, but to be alone and sometimes tan, catch up on reading. Sadaf, Jeanine (sadaf's friend from UMich) and I were the only females present in the entire stadium. All in all, I'm glad I can say that I went. Not the typical tourist experience. I have no idea who was playing or who won, but I went and I had a chicken pot pie. After unsuccessfully trying to finagle some afternoon tea, we headed back to grab some dinner at the local super. Sadaf and I took in a movie, Fracture. Which was interesting. I ate a crapload of candy. It was great.
On Saturday, we went to Burrough market. A delight. Free samples everywhere. My favorite was the Italian booths. I was all, "hey kids, I eat this every day. and it's better." I felt very hoity toity and special. Afterwards, we headed over to the Tate Modern to see "the event of the year," according to London newspapers: the Gilbert and George exhibit. They were pretty IN YOUR FACE kind of guys. They didn't look like artists at all, more like two middle aged desk workers. On the other hand, there were a lot of semen and turds involved in their "sculpture" work. Yeah. You should google them, probably.
Then I dragged Sadaf to Portobello Market, where we went to Hummingbird Bakery. It came highly recommended by a girl I know who had gone to Oxford last quarter, and we bought some really really good cupcakes to have after dinner. We also perused the market a bit. I encouraged Sadaf to get her grandmother a magnifying glass with a ram's horn handle. She wasn't that enthused about it. If I didn't have to pay for carry ons, I would have totally gotten it. Yeah.
After a well deserved nap, Sadaf and I hopped on the tube (I had bought my own Oyster card for London Underground savings and convenience, and felt very local indeed) to get to Brick Lane, THE place for Indian food. SO delicious. I miss Indian--and all my other favorite food varieties, for that matter--so very very much, and it was great to get some since Italians don't really do food that is, er, not Italian. Back at home, we skyped Sadaf's grandma, had some fun giggle time/cupcakes, and hit the hay.
This morning (Sunday) we went to Oxford Circus to cram in some sweet shopping before I had to catch my plane home. WOW London has some great (albeit expensive) shopping. That is all. We also went to a chicken restaurant, and I had a spicy chicken caeser salad, another cuisine that escapes the Italians, and all was well with the world after 3 diet cokes (one of the only places I've seen in Europe so far that gave free refills. I was a little overzealous).
After many many other forms of transportation to get back, I found myself in Pisa at 10:15, stranded. The trains stopped running, the strike-obsessive bastards. I managed to find a bus that went to florence for only 8 euro, but it left at mezzanotte (nearly two hours later). With nothing to occupy myself except a giant bag of M&M's (hey, I needed to spend my last few pounds on SOMETHING), I sat outside cold, alone, bug bitten, near tears, chewing furiously, waiting for this God-forsaken bus, and trying to remember how to say, "I've been stabbed" in Italian; I don't think 911 operators here speak very much English. Finally, the bus arrived, and the driver promptly informed me that I was not allowed to wait on the bus until it was scheduled to leave. Welcome back to Italia, Molly. Anywho, I'm home and glad to be back, glad to have been outside of Italy, and dog-tired. If you're still reading, good lord! Go to bed. That's where I'm off to. My favorite picture from the weekend will be published soon. Fine.

Gioielli

When we find our necklace in an impossible tangle, we untangle it. No questions asked--until today. How did it happen? I had just laid it down for the night, clasp closed.
Just got back from Viareggio (beach) for a rainy independence day. Today I'm off to London. More heart-gripping and adrenaline-releasing blogging to come.
Oh, also, the picture: what I did in class today! a sketch from this statue in the Museo Nazionale del Bargello; this is the face of Florence after conquering Pisa (I think).

Another Week in Florence

Nothing too exciting to report about my week. Classes...I'm starting to really dislike my film class. First, I can't handle feminism--I know it did wonderful things for women, but it's not very fun to learn about; terminology and such gets tedious. Second, I can't handle analyzing things (books, art, FILMS...) to death. It drives me nuts. This class is all this and more; it's taught in italian. Takes an incredible amount of energy to pay attention to when the class is 3 hours long. This week we started painting in my art class, which got me excited. We got to pick a van gogh painting from a stack. I picked his last one, which hangs in my room at stanford (it's my favorite of his!). I am remembering how much crappy (ok, different) acrylics are compared to oils. Ah well, it's still fun to fool around with paint and draw all the time. For credit. Yessss. My econ class is also interesting (I forgot that I actually like econ) but our professor talks about 2 miles per hour. It's difficult to pay attention when he averages about 1 sentence per minute--note this is not too much of an exagerration. Anywho. That was my academic week.

This thursday I put together a get-together with some students from the program to celebrate Mal's 21st--I got the most overpriced torta ever. It was delicious, and tiny for how much i paid for it, but everyone chipped in and got a piece. It was fun times! Then we went to karaoke and listened to some screechy american girls sing for about 10 minutes and then we left. Blah. On Friday (our first Friday off from school!) 7 other kids and I took a trip to Siena, which was nice. We went to a torture museum, and I left enlightened. Oh, and the duomo was ok too, I guess. We almost went wine tasting!!! But it was closed. It was some state-run wine tasting restaurant that is supposed to be amazing. Stupid construction. That night I went with some of the guys to these tunnels that were COVERED in the most amazing graffiti art I've ever seen. Apparently artists come down and paint over the walls every so often. It was SO cool. I'm going to go back to take pictures sometime soon, I hope. Oh, side note--I'm learning how to use my dSLR with so much more skill now. I want to get a lomography camera. How amazing would color Holga pictures of Firenze be? Really really. That's what I thought!
On Saturday Harriet and I took a lazy day. We attempted to go find the pool (at the stadium) and swim in it (she swims too!) but it was closed, frowny face :( !! Then we went to Badiani's, the best gelateria in all of Florence. Delightful. Then we found Stefania's, the best pasticceria in all of Florence (according to Sandra) but it was closed. Later we went into a really cool vintage clothes store and bought nothing, it was way expensive--like everything else in florence, what a surprise! I headed to Boboli to get some reading done (read: have a nap). I lost track of time--that tends to happen when one is unconscious, you see--and was late for dinner reservations that I had made myself for a bunch of people (Il Latini) as a continuation of Mal's birthday fun-ness. I showered and dressed in all of seven minutes and met the rest of the party at the restaurant, which was delicious. Service not so good. I guess ristorante staff isn't usually too pleased when 15 american students take up half the restaurant and talk loudly in english. Ah well. Debauchery, per usual, followed, and it was a fun night to be had by all.
Today, Sunday, was also something of a lazy day--with a few bumps in the road. Harriet and I went for a run and to do some errands on the way; we wanted to get a cake at Stefania's for our host mom's birthday tonight. We got the most beautiful cake! We were so excited! Then when we got back we found that Jacopo had deadbolted the door. "Eff!" I exclaimed. I ran downstairs to find Giuliano (our 90 year old amico) working diligently on a model of the duomo. After listening to him blather about this for a good 10 minutes, I informed him that we were locked out. He took me into his apartment, and after showing me several wooden boats and Mexican gangster figurines he fetched his lovely, slightly more "with it" wife. Who proceeded to call the fire department. After having the awkward (goffo) glass of wine with Giuliano, the viligi del fuoco finally showed up, our cake meanwhile melting by the minute. For about 15 minutes they jiggled the door handle and such, very professional. They were shaking the door violently when Jacopo comes up the stairs in board shorts and sandals like, "What the hell is going on". He lets us in. Inside, Cippo is doing backflips. I LOVE IT when cats freak out. Hilarious. The fire department left eventually, and so did Giuliano. Very funny morning. Then I went back to boboli with a few girls and read/slept the afternoon away. Delightful, you might say, after a stressful morning. Tonight at dinner we surprised sandra with cake and muscato, and it was the most delicious cake I've ever had. I know I am prone to exaggeration but that shit was delicious. Ok. Basta. I'm going to go tend to my punte delle zanzare (mosquitos love me) now. Pace.

Il Secondo Weekend: Rimini e Bologna!!!

Picture descript first: Harriet as pigeon poop target practice; me as spitoon.


Ok, so my week was good. More eating, class attending, blah blah blah. But my weekend, it was great. I left Tuscany! Mallory initiated a trip that involved going to Rimini, a beach town (Fellini's birth place) on the East coast of Italy, on Saturday, and a trip to Bologna on Sunday, all in enough time to make it home for dinner with Sandra.
Rimini
There were two major student-initiated trips this weekend: Venice and Rimini. I wasn't quite ready for Venice yet (also, they were only going to be there for part of the day, and I definitely want to go for a longer period of time), and as soon as I heard beach, I knew I had to go. So I was very excited, you see. But then I started telling actual Italians about my trip (host mom/brother, some of the staff at the Center, my language partner) and I got a completely negative reaction. Basically, Rimini is the crap beach of Italy. I also heard that it is the Cancun of Italy. I did some research, and it is known for its night life. Fine. Va bene. It's still the beach dudes. And if it has a great night life, then fantastic. So I expected a totally dirty beach, rocks everywhere, drunken teenagers being eaten by sharks, etcetera. I was quite pleasantly surprised. The beach was gorgeous. At least by Southern California public beach standards. The sand was soft, the water not too cold or murky, I had a ball. Also, we happened to chance upon this place the day they were holding a kite contest. It was fun to watch (there was a lobster kite, ROCK LOBSTER! ha i was amused) but essentially rather obnoxious. The announcer was blathering in Italian to the ENTIRE beach--things like, "Oh, and this beautiful kimono-shaped kite seems to be taking flight right now. Everyone look. Oh, it is gorgeous. How lovely.--and also it sucked when the giant bear-shaped kites would block out the entire sun. Nonetheless, we bought a 5-liter gallon of red wine for 5 euro, and fun was had by all. We missed out on the night scene and instead had a team bonding night by the beach over some limoncello, followed by much merriment at the kebab-eria (the only thing that stays open late at night in italy) with free pizza from the nice man from South America. Oh, they are a diverse peoples.
Oh, addendum. I also had my first hostel experience. I was truly spoiled. For 15 euro, we stayed the night, free linens/towels, hot showers as often and as long as we wanted (that's a HUGE deal since I can only take 5 minute lukewarm showers here in Sandra's apartment), free internet, a communal "chill-out garden" (their title, not mine), and all you can eat breakfast the next morning. Highlight of the breakfast: a coffee machine named "Hottie" that prepared 8 different beverages. Mal and I soon found out that to our new "Hottie" friend, the difference between a cappuccino and a caffe con latte is the order in which it dispenses the hot milk and espresso. Still, it was truly an awe-inspiring coffee robot barista...dude.
Bologna
By far Bologna was my favorite part of the weekend. A beautiful little city with virtually no tourists (a welcome change from the way-congested Florence). We took a walking tour (my friend Nick did live readings from the glorious Frommer's) and saw some really old stuff and climbed some really tall leaning tower. Pictures soon.
Anecdotal highlights: Harriet was shat on twice in the span of 10 minutes by pigeons. She already hated pigeons enough. Now they are nemeses. I cleaned the poop off because that is what a good roommate is for. Also, I had a loogie spat on my left foot. It was truly the largest loogie I have ever seen. It covered at least a third of my foot and was quite the bitch to wipe off (mucus tends to be viscous like that, you know). I plan on showering soon. Really. Also, we ate the most delicious, flaky lasagna I have ever had. Bologna, fyi, is the food capital of Italy. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
Lots of other stuff probably happened this weekend too that I probably forgot to document. I may update. Love. And peace. etc.

PS: foods for thought. more for my own reflection which happens to be public. I have been having a conflict with my ipod. I recently discovered that it is wonderful to walk home and listen to my ipod at the same time. I can block out annoying tourists and other noises and just relax. Plus, listening to my own music from home makes me feel more at home myself. However, I feel that it is displacing me from my surroundings and my inner traveler is advising me to lay down my ear buds and take in those city sounds. I am here to make a second home, not try to revive my first home in a different place. This is actually one of the least fascinating things I've ever mentioned. Forget it. I'm going to go listen to my ipod now.

Buona Pascua!

I am bored sigh, so I am posting yet again! Lucky you!!!

Highlights from the past couple of days:
Il Signor Giuliano:
Harriet and I met a neighbor! His name is Giuliano and he is 90 years old (he made sure inform us of his age via post-it note, before revealing secondary facts like his name or why he was brandishing a whittling knife while we were attempting to enter the apartment building). Probably against our better judgement, we followed him into his secret cave-lair/whittling workshop in the lower garage area. There were chainsaws and knives everywhere, sweet! Then he showed us this little wooden model of two Mexicans having a gun-duel-showdown, exclaiming all the while "Hobby! Hobby! Hobby!" Ah. He whittles figurines. Not a serial killer. Got it. Anywho, Giuliano was a very sweet man. He gave both Harriet and I wooden models of the Ponte Vecchio, which I will probably paint and take home to pass off as a souvenier to some sap friend. HA!
Lost!
I got on the wrong #6. I was on the bus in the outskirts of Florence/some other city. It was freakay. I'm alive though.
Easter
Today is Easter, dudes. We went to Il Scoppio del Carro, "the explosion of the cart," in the Piazza del Duomo. It was pretty cool, but full of tourists from EVERYWHERE. I heard some strong southern accents. Is it possible to experience reverse culture shock this early in the quarter? Yes, yes it is. We had Easter dinner tonight, and Jacopo (my host brother) entertained us with his presence for the first time. He is a funny little dude. We had some sausage and liver patte. No lamb though; Sandra thinks they are too cute to eat. Did you know they kill 600,000 lambs every Easter in Italy alone? I sure didn't. Consider yourself enlightened. In other news, I got my first, very own chocolate bunny. Yay!

The picture here is of my street, via repetti. yay!

I quattro primi giorni a Firenze

Ok, I have some time for once! So here's the low down on my first week here.

Day 1:
I arrived in Florence with a group of other Stanfordites the afternoon of Monday, April 2nd, 2007. Glorious! I remember being totally out of it, waiting for the baggage to come around, and I was staring at this clothing ad, and it was pretty much just a blown up picture of boobs (I guess they were hemi-clothed). Benvenuto a Firenze, Molly. We took a cab from this tiny airport (it was HOT, which is a good thing mind you) straight to the Stanford Center.
The center is cool; it's right on the Arno River (very centrally located). Mallory my love was there to meet us when we arrived (she is the official student ambassador, naturally). I met my room mate, Harriet, and she is lovely. Harriet and I took a taxi to the apartment of our host mom, Sandra. She yelled at us from the window (we were carrying our huge suitcases and looking sweaty and confused) "Ragaaaaaze!!!" and let us in.
I really like our host mom. She lives with her son, Jacopo, who is 34. This is (borderline) normal in Florence; most kids stay with their parents because of the price of living of Italy in general (damn the euro!). The apartment is nice; Harriet and I share a room and even get our own bathroom. Even more importantly, I HAVE AN INTERNET CONNECTION. This proves to be both a boon and a curse. Haha, isn't boon a funny word?! Oh, and we also cohabitate with Cippo the cat. He's a spicy little cat, and very lively/sneaky/evil for a 15 year old. He sat on Harriet's bed, staring at her allll night. She's allergic to cats.
The first dinner went pretty well. My Italian gets better everyday! I don't think Sandra's that into cooking (I kind of expected an extravagant 4 course meal, but it was much more handle-able than that).

Day 2:
Breakfast! I learned how to make coffee with the old fashioned coffee pot thingy. The coffee that Sandra has is really good, but gives me the jitters (that in combination with the cookies she feeds us makes me almost hypoglycemic by the time lunch rolls around). Days 2 and 3 were all orientation activities, and kind of exhausting. In the mean time, delicious food happened, of course. We went out that night, too (led by the glorious Malbounds) and it was fun; at the same time, though, I quickly realized how humongous the American population in Florence is.

Day 3:
I met my language partner! His name is Riccardo and he is 24 years old. He was really nice, and not nearly as creepy as I thought he would be! Score! He was also pretty patient with my broken Italian. He is from Rome and is studying (actually, "specializing" in) political science. I am meeting him for un caffe tomorrow in between classes. That night Harriet and I passed out. Meno male, we needed to recharge badly.

Day 4:
Jet lag is wearing off finally. I had my first classe today. "Becoming an Artist in Florence." The art department at Stanford told me it would count as an art history course. Suckers! It's all sketching and painting. Which makes for a pleasantly happy molly. Supplies shall be expensive! Another thing I noticed: it's funny how different my painting teacher is here than the one I had last quarter. Last quarter, he asked us: "How many of you think it's okay to paint with your feelings?" A few enthusiastic communications majors raised their hands. "um, no. You paint with paint [you ignoramus]." This guy, from what I gathered (he spoke only Italian), is very MUCH into feelings. Both theories have their pluses and minuses, but I just thought, "How very italian of him." Should be an amazing course.
Afterwards, a few girls and I went to Pino's panini shop. Best. Sandwich. Ever. Delicious. Enough said.
This afternoon, I decided to finally strike out on my own. I had this intense need to get lost, which is of course the only way to really get to know a place. I successfully crossed the train tracks to get to Badiani, the most delicious gelateria that meg, the girl who stayed with sandra for the last two quarters, recommended for us. I got "buontalenti," a very old Italian recipe flavor. I have no idea what it is, but it was the best effing gelato I've ever tasted. After that, I took about 100 pictures all around the city and successfully lost myself. A beautiful day.
Oh, I also found the Jewish neighborhood. Who knew?

Ciao ciao for now. If you are reading this, I probably miss you.

Update: a homemade cat macro, featuring our very own Cippo.

Sono a Firenze!

Finalmente! Just a quick update. I have internet at my host mom's apartment, so I should be updating regularly in case you were desperately wondering (hi mom and dad), but only once I get settled in. Yesterday was orientation, as is today. Walking tour prontissimo, vado adesso! Firenze e bellissimo!!!!!!!