To Siena
It was a bittersweet morning. We awoke early, packed and cleaned the apartment. As instructed, we left the keys behind and made our last exit onto via Governo Vecchio. We caught the 64 bus, squeezed in among the less-than-ambrosial passengers and made the final roundabout past Victor Emanuele monument and to the Termini station. Finding our train to Siena went quite smoothly. We headed immediately for a ticket kiosk, and had our tickets within a few minutes. Once we were at the tracks, we found ourselves a bit stumped by the system. After asking an employee, we were heading toward track 1. I verified the ticket and we boarded the train. This is how it works: On the Departures board, you will find the time closest to your ticket in bold. Also in bold is the ultimate destination of your train. For us, our train was headed for Florence, but we needed to make a connection in Chiusi, so we just needed to stop there. Listed below the bold lettering is a list of all the stops and the times the train will reach them. Pretty simple when you know what to look for.
It took a few tries to find a sufficiently empty car where we could stow our bags. We ended up sitting across from a guy from San Luis who was using the hostel-to-hostel technique. Though spontaneity sounds fun, I prefer knowing where I will be sleeping in the evening.
The train ride from Rome to Chiusi lasted close to two hours. The scenery was nice, but we spent most of our time in tunnels or behind trees. We said caio to the guy from San Luis, crossed under the tracks, and waited ten minutes in line to use the grimy bathroom. We then ate a lunch of surprisingly good cafeteria style pizza and waited for our next train to Siena. It arrived shortly after we finished our 'meal', we boarded after asking some English-speaking tourists if they were going to Siena as well. It was a modern, stylish train, unlike our last ride, with spacious seating (though markedly less comfortable than the last seats). Erik kept worrying we were on the wrong train. Eventually I convinced him otherwise, and I was right. This train ran for slightly under an hour and a half, and was considerably more scenic. The countryside rolled in green and gold, mottled with the shadows of the clouds above, dotted with cypress-lined drives leading to quintessential red-roofed villas. No better word to describe it than charming. The last stop was Siena. We exited the train and easily purchased our €1 bus tickets.
The challenge began when we boarded the next bus, which immediately from my recollection took us in the opposite direction of Siena.
I began to get concerned when I didn't see Siena. Even moreso when all the other passengers got off and Erik and I were the only ones riding the bus to nowhere. Eventually the bus stopped and I asked the driver if the bus went to Siena. Though he didn't speak much english, he confirmed that indeed it did. However, he didn't start up the bus again for another ten minutes, then returned to the other town and picked up passengers. Only when we passed the train station in the direction of Siena did I begin to relax. I confirmed with another passenger on the bus of our destination and she graciously gave us directions. The final stop did come, and we breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped off. But that was not the end of our difficulties.
We found Il Campo, the center of Siena, easily enough, within ten minutes or so. From google maps, I thought I knew where our apartment was in relation to our favorite gelato shop (of course). Unfortunately this was not the right street. We asked several locals where Piazzetta Bonali was, all of them unable to tell us. At this time we were quite exhausted and frustrated. After asking a couple separate souvenir vendors the location of the nearest tourist information, we headed across the campo in search of answers.
Hallelujah, they told us exactly where to go. It turned out that our apartment was one street down from the one we originally looked on, though midway down, a very small piazza intersected it. We thanked her wholeheartedly and struck out, glad to have a heading. Indeed, we had no trouble finding the place thereafter. It is in a very small intersection of streets which form a very very small square if it can be called such. We rang the bell at the gate labeled Gianni, as instructed, and the iron gate opened. We crossed a tiny courtyard and climbed five flights of steps to the top., while lugging our painfully heavy packs. But our was not quite done being interesting yet.
A woman named Julianna and her young husband and daughter greeted us. They are very friendly but do not speak much English. We entered the flat. It is a massive establishment. The setup and furnishings are rustic yet elegant, and we followed the family into a sitting room, where we were asked to have a seat. We spent the next fifteen minutes waiting for the two to decipher our passports and record the information for their records. Then we were showed our room. It turns out that our apartment is only a small part of the larger apartment. We have everything we need, though the aspect of living in the same house with people who speak little English is a bit hard to get used to. They showed us the separate kitchen and dining area, gave us the keys and left us to unpack.
What an experience.
Thankfully, the location of the apartment was worth all its hassle. A two minute walk to both Piazza del Duomo and Il Campo. Can't ask for much more.
Our evening was much less stressful. We settled in, I handwashed some if my clothes and left them to dry while we went to Il Campo for dinner. il Campo is the center of Siena, bordered by quaint yet impressive medieval buildings, and the imposing torre del Mangia. The piazza slopes downward toward the tower, lined with cross-cross red bricks. We ate right on the square, an excellent meal for both, I with four-cheese gnocchi and Erik with ossobuco. The weather in Siena is drastically cooler than that of Rome, by ten degrees easily. I found that my jacket was not enough. We headed back up to the main street, Via dei Citta, to see about some gelato from the favorite place of the last trip with my mom. Unfortunately, they did not have panna cotta ice cream as I had hoped. We settled for caffe and noce. Though we were shivering, we enjoyed every bit of it and were grateful we had a sure place to sleep that night, and thankful that the trials of the day were over.
Inspiration - Imagination - Innovation
Saturday, June 18, 2011
6/9
Arrivederci Roma
Our final day in Rome was our least hectic. Again the weather was ideal, less hot than the previous day, which came in handy for the amount of walking that was ahead of us. We made a leisurely stroll to St. Peter's square, realized that it was extremely crowded, and instead headed back to Castel Sant'Angelo. We stopped into a random baroque church on the way and enjoyed a short break from the noise outside, then proceeded to the Castel. It is a very medieval structure, though impressive, with musty passages that lead upward to the papal rooms. Many of the underground passages bring to mind an Indiana Jones film. The most interesting sights to see in the Castel are of the exterior. The outer walls and parapets are well preserved but their age is evident, with inner courtyards and towers containing ancient trebuchets, cannons, and crude cannon balls. The papal apartments were a bit disappointing, as I would have liked to have seen more information on the Borgias there.
We ate lunch in the park which once was a moat surrounding the Castel, tried to win the affections of a skittish yet curious kitty, grabbed the best gelato in Rome near the pantheon (creme carmel and chocolate mousse) then returned to the apartment to rest.
After feeling recharged, we returned to St. Peters. It was wonderful to fully absorb the place one last time, when not feeling completely exhausted. I received a fantastic surprise as we walked into the nave, a mass had just begun and the single voice of the choir resonated throughout the massive chamber. No experience could match it.
I had the great opportunity of completing a new sketch of the greatest cathedral on earth. I have found a much greater comfort in drawing perspective and architecture in recent years, something which has a
lways eluded me. Now even moreso I feel as though I can successfully communicate what I'm seeing. I stood for nearly an hour with the voices of the choir and organ immersing me fully in pure beauty.
With reluctance we bid farewell to St Peters, returned to our neighborhood and meandered down Via dei Corallo (the street where my mom and I stayed three years ago). We ate at a small restaurant near Piazza Navona, splurging on more expensive dinners, as we had been careful with our expenditures, and still came out under budget.
Making one final return to the Pantheon, we enjoyed our second gelato of the day from the Montecito cremeria on the porch of the Pantheon. The sun cast an orange glow on the piazza, the lights flickered to life and the music echoed through the square. One could not ask for a better ending to a fantastic adventure in the eternal city.
Our final day in Rome was our least hectic. Again the weather was ideal, less hot than the previous day, which came in handy for the amount of walking that was ahead of us. We made a leisurely stroll to St. Peter's square, realized that it was extremely crowded, and instead headed back to Castel Sant'Angelo. We stopped into a random baroque church on the way and enjoyed a short break from the noise outside, then proceeded to the Castel. It is a very medieval structure, though impressive, with musty passages that lead upward to the papal rooms. Many of the underground passages bring to mind an Indiana Jones film. The most interesting sights to see in the Castel are of the exterior. The outer walls and parapets are well preserved but their age is evident, with inner courtyards and towers containing ancient trebuchets, cannons, and crude cannon balls. The papal apartments were a bit disappointing, as I would have liked to have seen more information on the Borgias there.
We ate lunch in the park which once was a moat surrounding the Castel, tried to win the affections of a skittish yet curious kitty, grabbed the best gelato in Rome near the pantheon (creme carmel and chocolate mousse) then returned to the apartment to rest.
After feeling recharged, we returned to St. Peters. It was wonderful to fully absorb the place one last time, when not feeling completely exhausted. I received a fantastic surprise as we walked into the nave, a mass had just begun and the single voice of the choir resonated throughout the massive chamber. No experience could match it.
I had the great opportunity of completing a new sketch of the greatest cathedral on earth. I have found a much greater comfort in drawing perspective and architecture in recent years, something which has a
lways eluded me. Now even moreso I feel as though I can successfully communicate what I'm seeing. I stood for nearly an hour with the voices of the choir and organ immersing me fully in pure beauty.
With reluctance we bid farewell to St Peters, returned to our neighborhood and meandered down Via dei Corallo (the street where my mom and I stayed three years ago). We ate at a small restaurant near Piazza Navona, splurging on more expensive dinners, as we had been careful with our expenditures, and still came out under budget.
Making one final return to the Pantheon, we enjoyed our second gelato of the day from the Montecito cremeria on the porch of the Pantheon. The sun cast an orange glow on the piazza, the lights flickered to life and the music echoed through the square. One could not ask for a better ending to a fantastic adventure in the eternal city.
6/8
Bernini Day
I finally feel comfortable here in Italy. I believe it took a bit of time to develop a system that would optimize the enjoyment of our day by eliminating as much discomfort as possible. We discovered yesterday that almost directly across the street is a supermercato which is deceivingly large. As opposed to paying €4.50 for a Sprite at a restaurant, one can buy a liter and a half for €1.50, which will last you two days. We learned to recycle bottles of powerade we had purchased on our hot day at the Vatican, and fill them with red Fanta which tastes like Hawaiian Punch. Anything to avoid drinking awful tap water. We have been buying our breakfasts and lunches at the market as well which allows us to spend a little more on dinner and still come out under budget.
The weather has improved with each day we stay in Rome. Today it was even cooler and brighter, though the Roman sun had lost none of its heat...so remaining in the shade as much as possible was a must. We hopped the 87 bus, which took us on the familiar route past the Victor Emmanuele monument, and toward Termini station. We knew our stop was Nazionale, but what we didnt realize at first was the fact that there are four Nazionale stops on the same street, each with a subname. So we hopped off the bus at the first stop, and ended up walking the length of the street in order to reach the stop we should have gotten off on. It was a happy mistake though, as we were given the opportunity to enjoy the city at our own pace. This is the more metropolitan area of the city, where the streets are wide, busy, and hectic, though still rustic at its core, as modern hair salons share walls with ancient chapels. We made a left on Via Torino, crossed a busy parking lot-piazza, then headed for the corner on the opposite side of the street, where the facade of Santa Maria Della Vittoria was covered for renovation. But it was the inside we were interested in. I can easily say that among all the churches we saw in Rome, this is the most ornate. When we stepped inside the tranquil nave, we were instantly overwhelmed by the sheer ornamentation of the place. Richly decorated fails to describe the very opulent nature of this church. It was awe inspiring. The salmon colored marble columns were edged with stripes of gold, carrying the weight of marble angels carved by Bernini himself, their robes flowing without the need for wind. Every column, arch, vault, and niche was embellished with paint, gold, metalwork and oil paint. The best aspect of the space is that it is literally filled with Bernini's work. Each and every sculpture which clings to the walls and ceiling, big and small, was crafted by his hand. And it shows. It was dim, cool, and quiet. A welcome change from tourist-packed sights. One can feel so much greater a connection with a place when it's seen in the way it is meant to be seen. The experience is much more organic, and you feel as if you belong to it, and it to you. When a place makes an impression upon your heart and memory, it becomes a part of you.
The centerpiece of this chapel is not in the apse but to its left, The Ecstasy of St. Teresa. Bernini embodies the writings of St. Teresa, who experienced a vision of an angel piercing her with a golden arrow, which filled her with both the pain and extreme joy of God's love. It was truly wonderful to finally see the piece in person. We spent nearly an hour there, I missed no opprtunity to sketch the famous piece, and absorbed the tranquility and beauty of the place.
Emerging from the dim quiet of the chapel and into the bright, raucous bustle of the street required a bit of an adjustment, but soon we were heading northwest toward the curving Via Veneto.
Santa Maria della Consezione is a unique place inside and out. The exterior is recognizable by its dual stairways, its chapel by its eerie, smoky humility, and its crypt by the artfully arranged bones of 4000 capuchin monks. One is almost stifled by the musty, earthy scent upon entering the low-ceilinged first chamber, where you make a 'donation' of a single euro to gain admission. Hereafter lie six alcoves upon a joining low passage, each room literally covered in complex designs created by the curving of stained mandibles, ribs, parallel clavicles, shins and finger bones, but mostly vertebrae. Skulls have been stacked neatly in arched arrangements, beside rows of thigh bones. In several chambers, entire skeletons lean lifelessly against the bonds which attempt to hold them upright, clad in draping brown monk robes. Their fleshless grins defy the solemnity of the place yet remind one of their own mortality.
A short visit to this place is all that is needed, but an unforgettable one is guaranteed. We took a deep breath of fresh air once outside, glad to return to the land of the living. Following the curve of Via Veneto, we then crossed a very busy intersection and entered the Borghese gardens. The massive umbrella pines that dotted the expansive lawns provided shade as we headed North up the wide pedestrian-only pavement. Locals out with canine friends abounded, the dog breeds as diverse as the people themselves. We then came upon the villa Borghese. It was bigger than I remembered, a beautiful white structure with a massive porch. We ate an identical lunch in the shady courtyard. The finches there must have been famished, as they went to such great measures as going for the food in your hand even as it was on its way to your mouth.
We gave in to feeding them out of the pure enternainment and at one point, a bird caught a crumb of bruschetta as it was still airborne.
We wrapped up our modest lunch and descended beneath the front stairway to purchase our tickets. The Roma pass covered both of our tickets, so we reluctantly checked our bags and cameras and waited for our 1:00 reservation.
Though the villa Borghese is brimming with great sculpture, it's hard to focus on anything but Bernini's sculptures, which usually occupy the center of each room. Bernini is aptly referred to as the father of the Baroque era. In my eyes, he is arguably the most talented sculptor in history. Michelangelo is indeed a master, but the emotion and movement Bernini brings to his work is unmatched. Bernini captures a single moment in a story as if the figure simply turned to marble in mid-action. The bland expression of previous Davids is traded for extreme concentration in Bernini's version, the unbelievably delicate foliage sprouting from Daphne's fingers hardly seems like marble, and Pluto's hand sinks solidly into Proserpina's thigh as he whisks her away to the underworld. Seeing the 8 Bernini sculptures in the Borghese is worth the trip and reservation (I called it in over the phone then used the Roma pass to get in for free)
We recharged in the peace of the gardens, then headed back the way we had come, made a wrong crossing and ended up following the highway, then turning around again. Within ten minutes we had reached the Spanish Steps and enjoyed the panorama of Roma, then quickly escaped the crush of tourists to find the Trevi Fountain, which was also swarming with the public. We stopped to admire the architecture and toss a coin into the aquamarine water before maneuvering our way through the dense crowds. The crowds at the Pantheon were much more manageable, and we arrived in time to go inside and enjoy the most influential structure in art history. It is simply a massive circular chamber, topped by a huge concrete dome with concave squares to lighten it, and a large circular opening at its center called the oculus. The tombs of both Raphael and Victor Emmanuel rest in the niches.
We returned to Piazza Navona for dinner. We landed a table right on the Piazza, I enjoyed some Italian sausage and some free champagne.
We closed our amazing day with some equally amazing kiwi, passion fruit, and raspberry gelato.
I finally feel comfortable here in Italy. I believe it took a bit of time to develop a system that would optimize the enjoyment of our day by eliminating as much discomfort as possible. We discovered yesterday that almost directly across the street is a supermercato which is deceivingly large. As opposed to paying €4.50 for a Sprite at a restaurant, one can buy a liter and a half for €1.50, which will last you two days. We learned to recycle bottles of powerade we had purchased on our hot day at the Vatican, and fill them with red Fanta which tastes like Hawaiian Punch. Anything to avoid drinking awful tap water. We have been buying our breakfasts and lunches at the market as well which allows us to spend a little more on dinner and still come out under budget.
The weather has improved with each day we stay in Rome. Today it was even cooler and brighter, though the Roman sun had lost none of its heat...so remaining in the shade as much as possible was a must. We hopped the 87 bus, which took us on the familiar route past the Victor Emmanuele monument, and toward Termini station. We knew our stop was Nazionale, but what we didnt realize at first was the fact that there are four Nazionale stops on the same street, each with a subname. So we hopped off the bus at the first stop, and ended up walking the length of the street in order to reach the stop we should have gotten off on. It was a happy mistake though, as we were given the opportunity to enjoy the city at our own pace. This is the more metropolitan area of the city, where the streets are wide, busy, and hectic, though still rustic at its core, as modern hair salons share walls with ancient chapels. We made a left on Via Torino, crossed a busy parking lot-piazza, then headed for the corner on the opposite side of the street, where the facade of Santa Maria Della Vittoria was covered for renovation. But it was the inside we were interested in. I can easily say that among all the churches we saw in Rome, this is the most ornate. When we stepped inside the tranquil nave, we were instantly overwhelmed by the sheer ornamentation of the place. Richly decorated fails to describe the very opulent nature of this church. It was awe inspiring. The salmon colored marble columns were edged with stripes of gold, carrying the weight of marble angels carved by Bernini himself, their robes flowing without the need for wind. Every column, arch, vault, and niche was embellished with paint, gold, metalwork and oil paint. The best aspect of the space is that it is literally filled with Bernini's work. Each and every sculpture which clings to the walls and ceiling, big and small, was crafted by his hand. And it shows. It was dim, cool, and quiet. A welcome change from tourist-packed sights. One can feel so much greater a connection with a place when it's seen in the way it is meant to be seen. The experience is much more organic, and you feel as if you belong to it, and it to you. When a place makes an impression upon your heart and memory, it becomes a part of you.
The centerpiece of this chapel is not in the apse but to its left, The Ecstasy of St. Teresa. Bernini embodies the writings of St. Teresa, who experienced a vision of an angel piercing her with a golden arrow, which filled her with both the pain and extreme joy of God's love. It was truly wonderful to finally see the piece in person. We spent nearly an hour there, I missed no opprtunity to sketch the famous piece, and absorbed the tranquility and beauty of the place.
Emerging from the dim quiet of the chapel and into the bright, raucous bustle of the street required a bit of an adjustment, but soon we were heading northwest toward the curving Via Veneto.
Santa Maria della Consezione is a unique place inside and out. The exterior is recognizable by its dual stairways, its chapel by its eerie, smoky humility, and its crypt by the artfully arranged bones of 4000 capuchin monks. One is almost stifled by the musty, earthy scent upon entering the low-ceilinged first chamber, where you make a 'donation' of a single euro to gain admission. Hereafter lie six alcoves upon a joining low passage, each room literally covered in complex designs created by the curving of stained mandibles, ribs, parallel clavicles, shins and finger bones, but mostly vertebrae. Skulls have been stacked neatly in arched arrangements, beside rows of thigh bones. In several chambers, entire skeletons lean lifelessly against the bonds which attempt to hold them upright, clad in draping brown monk robes. Their fleshless grins defy the solemnity of the place yet remind one of their own mortality.
A short visit to this place is all that is needed, but an unforgettable one is guaranteed. We took a deep breath of fresh air once outside, glad to return to the land of the living. Following the curve of Via Veneto, we then crossed a very busy intersection and entered the Borghese gardens. The massive umbrella pines that dotted the expansive lawns provided shade as we headed North up the wide pedestrian-only pavement. Locals out with canine friends abounded, the dog breeds as diverse as the people themselves. We then came upon the villa Borghese. It was bigger than I remembered, a beautiful white structure with a massive porch. We ate an identical lunch in the shady courtyard. The finches there must have been famished, as they went to such great measures as going for the food in your hand even as it was on its way to your mouth.
We gave in to feeding them out of the pure enternainment and at one point, a bird caught a crumb of bruschetta as it was still airborne.
We wrapped up our modest lunch and descended beneath the front stairway to purchase our tickets. The Roma pass covered both of our tickets, so we reluctantly checked our bags and cameras and waited for our 1:00 reservation.
Though the villa Borghese is brimming with great sculpture, it's hard to focus on anything but Bernini's sculptures, which usually occupy the center of each room. Bernini is aptly referred to as the father of the Baroque era. In my eyes, he is arguably the most talented sculptor in history. Michelangelo is indeed a master, but the emotion and movement Bernini brings to his work is unmatched. Bernini captures a single moment in a story as if the figure simply turned to marble in mid-action. The bland expression of previous Davids is traded for extreme concentration in Bernini's version, the unbelievably delicate foliage sprouting from Daphne's fingers hardly seems like marble, and Pluto's hand sinks solidly into Proserpina's thigh as he whisks her away to the underworld. Seeing the 8 Bernini sculptures in the Borghese is worth the trip and reservation (I called it in over the phone then used the Roma pass to get in for free)
We recharged in the peace of the gardens, then headed back the way we had come, made a wrong crossing and ended up following the highway, then turning around again. Within ten minutes we had reached the Spanish Steps and enjoyed the panorama of Roma, then quickly escaped the crush of tourists to find the Trevi Fountain, which was also swarming with the public. We stopped to admire the architecture and toss a coin into the aquamarine water before maneuvering our way through the dense crowds. The crowds at the Pantheon were much more manageable, and we arrived in time to go inside and enjoy the most influential structure in art history. It is simply a massive circular chamber, topped by a huge concrete dome with concave squares to lighten it, and a large circular opening at its center called the oculus. The tombs of both Raphael and Victor Emmanuel rest in the niches.
We returned to Piazza Navona for dinner. We landed a table right on the Piazza, I enjoyed some Italian sausage and some free champagne.
We closed our amazing day with some equally amazing kiwi, passion fruit, and raspberry gelato.
Friday, June 10, 2011
6/7
Ancient Rome
The morning began cloudy, though we were not deterred. We headed down Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, visited the ATM, then realized that our bus, in Via Torre Argentina, was just around the corner. We hopped the 87 bus and lumbered through town, passing the impressive white marble monument to Victor Emmanuel, and within five minutes found ourselves stumbling out of the bus and faced with the Colosseum. It still leaves you with nothing to do but stare and nothing to say but wow. After a short trip to palatine Hill, we were informed that our Roma passes would apply for both sights. So, as has become our custom, we slipped past those who failed to plan ahead and right into the Colosseum. Even with a third missing, this is a truly breathtaking structure. I am always fascinated with its state of decay. And I'm glad that the Italians keep it that way. We meandered the passages and floors of the stadium, surrounded by the reminders of the past. If you looked hard enough you could see the peasants in the seats, and the gladiators fighting for their lives. Gives you the chills. I stopped to sketch and no sooner did the rain begin to sprinkle, then the drops became larger. I shrugged on my jacket and propped my umbrella on my shoulder to protect my work. It was wonderful to sketch again. And as I did so, the rain stopped, the clouds broke, and the sun illuminated the ancient stonework around me. Something in me clicked and I felt so alive.
We spent nearly two hours in the Colosseum, every second an experience. We ate our lunch of salami, feta cheese and brucheta chips atop the knoll which overlooks the Colosseum and Arch of constantine.
Feeling refreshed, we visited Palatine hill. The Roma pass covered it as well. This hill can be described as eerie, mysterious, majestic and haunting. The skeletons of grand palaces stand as a testament to Rome's great fall. Remnants of ornamental stonework lay strewn in the dirt.
We descended through pleasant gardens to the Forum. I believe it trumps Palatine Hill in mystery. One can almost imagine how incredibly grand the structures once were. It is a jumble of toppled columns, derelict walls and rubble. It must once have had some semblance of order, but now it looks as if the city planner had been drunk. It was hot and our hydration limited. After navigating the ruins, we gratefully trudged up the steps and to the Victor Emmanuel monument. Though it is generally not seen as a tourist sight, it is a truly magnificent structure. I can easily say one of the greatest in the city, or maybe even anywhere. Next door we hiked up Michelangelo's steps to Capitoline hill. It has a great view of Rome, and is one of the most unique landmarks in the city. We then descended and made our way back to the Pantheon with no trouble. It was fantastic to see its interior again. It's bigger than I recall, and the dome still blows me away. I had the pleasure of perching on the fountain steps and sketching. I find that I feel more connected to a place if I sketch there. It's such a wonderful piazza, filled with so many different kinds of people, each one a character. One of oarticular interest was a woman who had mastered the cello and played the great classical compositions beauifully. After enjoying the scene, we enjoyed dinner at the restaurant across the street from our apartment. I had veal in red wine. Delicious. Currently we are solisly under our food budget thanks to the supermarket. We are dead tired but have spent an incredible day in old, old Rome
The morning began cloudy, though we were not deterred. We headed down Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, visited the ATM, then realized that our bus, in Via Torre Argentina, was just around the corner. We hopped the 87 bus and lumbered through town, passing the impressive white marble monument to Victor Emmanuel, and within five minutes found ourselves stumbling out of the bus and faced with the Colosseum. It still leaves you with nothing to do but stare and nothing to say but wow. After a short trip to palatine Hill, we were informed that our Roma passes would apply for both sights. So, as has become our custom, we slipped past those who failed to plan ahead and right into the Colosseum. Even with a third missing, this is a truly breathtaking structure. I am always fascinated with its state of decay. And I'm glad that the Italians keep it that way. We meandered the passages and floors of the stadium, surrounded by the reminders of the past. If you looked hard enough you could see the peasants in the seats, and the gladiators fighting for their lives. Gives you the chills. I stopped to sketch and no sooner did the rain begin to sprinkle, then the drops became larger. I shrugged on my jacket and propped my umbrella on my shoulder to protect my work. It was wonderful to sketch again. And as I did so, the rain stopped, the clouds broke, and the sun illuminated the ancient stonework around me. Something in me clicked and I felt so alive.
We spent nearly two hours in the Colosseum, every second an experience. We ate our lunch of salami, feta cheese and brucheta chips atop the knoll which overlooks the Colosseum and Arch of constantine.
Feeling refreshed, we visited Palatine hill. The Roma pass covered it as well. This hill can be described as eerie, mysterious, majestic and haunting. The skeletons of grand palaces stand as a testament to Rome's great fall. Remnants of ornamental stonework lay strewn in the dirt.
We descended through pleasant gardens to the Forum. I believe it trumps Palatine Hill in mystery. One can almost imagine how incredibly grand the structures once were. It is a jumble of toppled columns, derelict walls and rubble. It must once have had some semblance of order, but now it looks as if the city planner had been drunk. It was hot and our hydration limited. After navigating the ruins, we gratefully trudged up the steps and to the Victor Emmanuel monument. Though it is generally not seen as a tourist sight, it is a truly magnificent structure. I can easily say one of the greatest in the city, or maybe even anywhere. Next door we hiked up Michelangelo's steps to Capitoline hill. It has a great view of Rome, and is one of the most unique landmarks in the city. We then descended and made our way back to the Pantheon with no trouble. It was fantastic to see its interior again. It's bigger than I recall, and the dome still blows me away. I had the pleasure of perching on the fountain steps and sketching. I find that I feel more connected to a place if I sketch there. It's such a wonderful piazza, filled with so many different kinds of people, each one a character. One of oarticular interest was a woman who had mastered the cello and played the great classical compositions beauifully. After enjoying the scene, we enjoyed dinner at the restaurant across the street from our apartment. I had veal in red wine. Delicious. Currently we are solisly under our food budget thanks to the supermarket. We are dead tired but have spent an incredible day in old, old Rome
Thursday, June 9, 2011
6/6
The Vatican
Our morning began early and bright with absolutely beautiful weather, a welcome lucky sign of the fate of our day at the Vatican. After packing our bags with leftovers from last night's meal of cold fresh salami, prosciutto and cheese, we began our first official Roman journey. Fortunately, our accommodations are located in a perfect location near Piazza Navona, and we made our way down the hectic, frenzied causeway that is Corso Vittorio Emmanuele. Dodging impatient Vespas and attempting to avoid being mesmerized by the circus of traffic, we crossed the glittering Tiber, admiring the rotund profile of Castel Sant'Angelo, and wondered where exactly the Pope's secret passage might run beneath the cobblestones.
It is a vain endeavor to keep your heart from momentarily ceasing to beat as you first lay your eyes on St. Peter's Basilica, framed by the Via della Conciliazione. The power and depth that emanate from the place even at a distance is simply palpable. We soaked in the majesty of St. Peter's square while sharing our picnic meal, often joined by uninvited hungry pigeons. Upon finishing our meal and absorbing the square a bit more, we crossed its expanse and passed beneath the arches of Rome's city wall. Hugging the massive stone barrier which marks Vatican City, we soon found ourselves faced with a massive line of people which snaked along the wall as far as could be seen. Thankfully, we soon determined that these unfortunate souls had neglected to reserve their tickets in advance. We passed each of the hundreds of sweaty tourists feeling both pity and a sense of great relief. Best €4 ever spent.
We ducked into the modern marbled entry hall, endured security for the first time that day, then picked up our tickets, and waited with the mob of fellow visitors to have those tickets checked and to ride the escalator to the top floor.
The Vatican Museum is not the Louvre, though at times it can be equally as confusing. That said, it is a truly astounding collection. With a vast display of ancient Greek sculpture, sizable rooms filled with ancient Babylonian and Egyptian artifacts, an underappreciated Etruscan/Iron Age exhibit, as well as animal marble sculpture, tapestries, and classical paintings. I cannot even begin to describe the process of the three hours we spent there, though it did involve becoming dehydrated, becoming desperately lost in an attempt to find a drinking fountain and restroom, walking the wrong way for nearly fifteen minutes before being forced to return the way we came. While suffering the heat with long pants (due to the dress code inside St. Peter's) we braved the constant jostling of other visistors and literal crush of tour groups. At long last, (oh how long that last was), we stepped into the dim high chamber, the Sistine Chapel. The crowds fade as one stares skyward, mouth open, at the sheer awesomeness of this room. Every wall, surface, niche and curve of this room brims with the touch of the great master. The room hums with the voices of a hundred occupants, their conversations and photography hardly discouraged by the attempts of security to both quiet the mass and keep their cameras off.
After tearing ourselves from the masterful grasp of Michelangelo, we made our long return trip through the Vatican Museum and along the wall, back to St. Peter's square. Following a short break, we endured our final line for security and ascended the steps to the basilica.
For three years, words have escaped me as I have made vain attempts to describe the pure majesty of St. Peter's Basilica. 'Awesome' is an overused word in our society today. But truly, returning to the true meaning of the word, the Basilica fills you with nothing but all-encompassing awe. As you step through the heavy wooden doors and into the rush of cool air, as your foot strikes the marble floor for the first time and your eyes focus on the monolithic expanse before you, you realize that you are in a place of utmost holiness. The seven foot glittering gold band recites Jesus' words to Peter while sheer marble faces plunge one hundred feet to the floor. Above, shafts of sunlight pierce the calm air, illuminating both the ring of windows at the base of the main dome and the angels who perch atop Bernini's bronze altarpiece, which seems to soar nearly as high as the ceiling itself. Monolithic marble depictions of biblical figures stand in niches beside 10 feet wide mosaics. Gold glimmers upon arches and veins of marble seem to give power and strength to the walls which they form. And shining like a beacon of spirituality the world over, the golden beams of gilded bronze frame the glowing stained glass figure of a dove, a symbol of hope at the center of the blazing sunburst. This is St. Peter's basilica. The largest church in Christendom, the truest demonstration of human capability, fueled by the hand of God.
The view from the top of St. Peter's basilica is nearly as striking as its interior. Though the climb to the top, conquering hundreds of steps along the way, is nearly hellish, the panoramic view of the eternal city lets one gain a firm grasp on its richness. Sprawling before you are numerous sights which are not only beloved by the world, but immersed in centuries of history.
We returned the way we had come, exhausted beyond measure but full to the brim of awe and wonder. After a short rest, we made the short walk to the Pantheon. The seagulls and swallows swarmed the sky above the square, while pigeons remained earthbound in hope of forgotten morsels. We were fortunate enough to enjoy a candle lit dinner at the back of the square, facing the converted pagan temple, contemplating on the Latin words inscribed in its stone face. Soon the umbrellas came up and waiters scrambled to keep their customers dry as our perfect weather of the day was traded for slight rain. This change did not bother us as we picked up our second gelato on the way back home. Pistachio gelato was interesting.
It is incredible what one can experience in a single day. And this is the first of 30.
Our morning began early and bright with absolutely beautiful weather, a welcome lucky sign of the fate of our day at the Vatican. After packing our bags with leftovers from last night's meal of cold fresh salami, prosciutto and cheese, we began our first official Roman journey. Fortunately, our accommodations are located in a perfect location near Piazza Navona, and we made our way down the hectic, frenzied causeway that is Corso Vittorio Emmanuele. Dodging impatient Vespas and attempting to avoid being mesmerized by the circus of traffic, we crossed the glittering Tiber, admiring the rotund profile of Castel Sant'Angelo, and wondered where exactly the Pope's secret passage might run beneath the cobblestones.
It is a vain endeavor to keep your heart from momentarily ceasing to beat as you first lay your eyes on St. Peter's Basilica, framed by the Via della Conciliazione. The power and depth that emanate from the place even at a distance is simply palpable. We soaked in the majesty of St. Peter's square while sharing our picnic meal, often joined by uninvited hungry pigeons. Upon finishing our meal and absorbing the square a bit more, we crossed its expanse and passed beneath the arches of Rome's city wall. Hugging the massive stone barrier which marks Vatican City, we soon found ourselves faced with a massive line of people which snaked along the wall as far as could be seen. Thankfully, we soon determined that these unfortunate souls had neglected to reserve their tickets in advance. We passed each of the hundreds of sweaty tourists feeling both pity and a sense of great relief. Best €4 ever spent.
We ducked into the modern marbled entry hall, endured security for the first time that day, then picked up our tickets, and waited with the mob of fellow visitors to have those tickets checked and to ride the escalator to the top floor.
The Vatican Museum is not the Louvre, though at times it can be equally as confusing. That said, it is a truly astounding collection. With a vast display of ancient Greek sculpture, sizable rooms filled with ancient Babylonian and Egyptian artifacts, an underappreciated Etruscan/Iron Age exhibit, as well as animal marble sculpture, tapestries, and classical paintings. I cannot even begin to describe the process of the three hours we spent there, though it did involve becoming dehydrated, becoming desperately lost in an attempt to find a drinking fountain and restroom, walking the wrong way for nearly fifteen minutes before being forced to return the way we came. While suffering the heat with long pants (due to the dress code inside St. Peter's) we braved the constant jostling of other visistors and literal crush of tour groups. At long last, (oh how long that last was), we stepped into the dim high chamber, the Sistine Chapel. The crowds fade as one stares skyward, mouth open, at the sheer awesomeness of this room. Every wall, surface, niche and curve of this room brims with the touch of the great master. The room hums with the voices of a hundred occupants, their conversations and photography hardly discouraged by the attempts of security to both quiet the mass and keep their cameras off.
After tearing ourselves from the masterful grasp of Michelangelo, we made our long return trip through the Vatican Museum and along the wall, back to St. Peter's square. Following a short break, we endured our final line for security and ascended the steps to the basilica.
For three years, words have escaped me as I have made vain attempts to describe the pure majesty of St. Peter's Basilica. 'Awesome' is an overused word in our society today. But truly, returning to the true meaning of the word, the Basilica fills you with nothing but all-encompassing awe. As you step through the heavy wooden doors and into the rush of cool air, as your foot strikes the marble floor for the first time and your eyes focus on the monolithic expanse before you, you realize that you are in a place of utmost holiness. The seven foot glittering gold band recites Jesus' words to Peter while sheer marble faces plunge one hundred feet to the floor. Above, shafts of sunlight pierce the calm air, illuminating both the ring of windows at the base of the main dome and the angels who perch atop Bernini's bronze altarpiece, which seems to soar nearly as high as the ceiling itself. Monolithic marble depictions of biblical figures stand in niches beside 10 feet wide mosaics. Gold glimmers upon arches and veins of marble seem to give power and strength to the walls which they form. And shining like a beacon of spirituality the world over, the golden beams of gilded bronze frame the glowing stained glass figure of a dove, a symbol of hope at the center of the blazing sunburst. This is St. Peter's basilica. The largest church in Christendom, the truest demonstration of human capability, fueled by the hand of God.
The view from the top of St. Peter's basilica is nearly as striking as its interior. Though the climb to the top, conquering hundreds of steps along the way, is nearly hellish, the panoramic view of the eternal city lets one gain a firm grasp on its richness. Sprawling before you are numerous sights which are not only beloved by the world, but immersed in centuries of history.
We returned the way we had come, exhausted beyond measure but full to the brim of awe and wonder. After a short rest, we made the short walk to the Pantheon. The seagulls and swallows swarmed the sky above the square, while pigeons remained earthbound in hope of forgotten morsels. We were fortunate enough to enjoy a candle lit dinner at the back of the square, facing the converted pagan temple, contemplating on the Latin words inscribed in its stone face. Soon the umbrellas came up and waiters scrambled to keep their customers dry as our perfect weather of the day was traded for slight rain. This change did not bother us as we picked up our second gelato on the way back home. Pistachio gelato was interesting.
It is incredible what one can experience in a single day. And this is the first of 30.
6/4 - 6/5
The Exodus
After enjoying a fantastic performance of Mary Poppins the Musical in Sacramento, the Peck family said their heartfelt goodbyes and left us at the Larson residence. We took a 3-hour nap and awoke at 4am to groggily gather our single (large) carry-on bags, containing all of our necessary belongings and accessories, as well as our (thankfully) smaller, lighter day packs. Off to Sacramento airport we rode, in the uncharacteristically rainy June weather, with Jennifer Larson as our honorable driver. After a brave yet reluctant goodbye from Jennifer, we proceeded to check in with United airlines. With only a minor delay, and no hassle with checked baggage (thanks to my mom and Rick Steves) we bypassed security with no trouble and headed toward our gate, where we sampled some bland Starbucks oatmeal and waited anxiously for our first departure. Neither of us could believe this day had finally come. We still can't.
The flight from Sacramento across the United States to Washington DC was fairly short-lived, or at the very least, I remembered little of the 5 hour flight, as I fell quickly asleep in favor of watching the exceedingly generic Adjustment Bureau. After catching some chicken tenders and braving the vast line at Subway, we found ourselves boarding the smallest commercial craft I've ever experienced, requiring us to leave our invaluable larger carry-ons in the hands of the attendants to be stowed below the plane. Between fits of sleep and fleeting worries about the fate of our baggage, the two-hour flight to Montreal was a blessedly short one.
Despite our excitement at beginning the final and most tedious leg of our exodus, the Montreal airport was both beautiful and beastly. Thankfully customs went smoothly, and in spite of a gate change, we prepared for our 8-hour trek to Rome. In all honesty, for me this was the strangest part of the travel, as most of our time on this flight was spent in darkness, which was a bit depressing. However, I must explicitly say that Air Canada was a stunning carrier, which included personal touch screens, decent in flight food, and the general amenities. The seats were comfortable, and the only complaint I can make is only a mistake on my part, as sitting at an exit door proved to be quite cold at 37000 feet, 78 degrees below.
The Italian coastline was a welcome sight, only obscured by slight cloud cover. We gathered our hefty belongings for the final time and exited the plane into the sharp contrast of 73 degrees and humid. After being shuttled like sardines to Fiumicino, we made our long journey to the bus station, following the signs, amid the rush of people, listening to the tumult of languages swirling about us constantly. Advantageously we picked up two Roma passes on our way to the bus depot, where we boarded a large charter bus to take us to the Termini station. This is where it really began.
As we lumbered from the agricultural outskirts of the Roman countryside and deeper into Rome proper, the excitement grew increasingly palpable. Signs in Italian, tiny cars vying for the same spaces as buses, and daring vespa drivers gave a hint of what was to come. Winding our way through the seedier parts of Rome, we anticipated reaching the old city center, which when it did finally appear, did so as a monarch commands attention. Modern, decrepit structures suddenly were traded for ancient robust works of achictectural mastery. Our hearts both skipped a beat as we said a quick 'ciao' to the Vatican wall, then before we knew it, we were shuffling from the bus at the Termini bus stop-- though it looked different than I had expected. Having thrown us for a bit of a loop, this turn of events proved to be the most challenging part of our first day in Rome. We headed down the street in search of a bus stop. The 73 degrees with humidity was a drastic difference from California's low 60s, and we quickly shed our jackets, and wished we could trade our jeans for shorts. After reading a bus sign or two, with no sight of our stop (Chiesa Nuova), we stopped in to a Tabacchi shop to ask for directions. Thankfully the reply told us that we needed to board bus 40, which gave us a bit of a lead. With our packs already straining our shoulders and spines, we stood at the bus stop down the street for what seemed an eternity, waiting for the 40 bus. To our dismay, every bus which would take us to our destination either whizzed by us, was too full, or we missed it for various reasons. We decided to follow the buses' routes down the road, where we found success at last. We boarded the correct bus, feeling much like obnoxious turtles in the cramped and stuffy space, though the ride through the city was worth the trouble. We hopped off at Chiesa Nuova, which we soon learned is only a two minute walk from our apartment.
We are at a perfect location. Five minutes walking in one direction gets us to piazza Navona, and an additional five minutes from there is the Pantheon. We are a two minute walk from the main street in Rome, Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, which if taken for 15-20 minutes will lead you to St. Peter's. The apartment is on Via Governo Vecchio, framed by an arched doorway. After passing through the door on the street you follow a low passage and out into an inner alley, where three small apartments sit within the shadow of the taller buildings which flank them. We found the door to #34 open, and within the owner, Andrea Marchi. He was a humorous, good-natured man in his late thirties, bespectacled with a receding hairline and slightly wild curly hair. He enthusiastically gave us the tour of the very small apartment, handed us the keys and bid farewell. Not long after we settled our belongings, the overcast weather turned to rain and going out was no longer an option. Our jetlagged bodies were grateful as we slept for several hours, sleep having been difficult on the plane. Around 7:00 that evening I woke with a start, realizing the rain had stopped. We grabbed our day packs and went to explore the neighborhood. The streets were saturated, but there was no shortage of Vespas, smart cars and pedestrians attempting to occupy the same narrow passages. The restaurants were full and the rain didn't seem to have deterred anyone in the least. We stopped at a small rustic restaurant after checking their menu, and sat down at a table with a direct view of the street. Erik ordered the quintessential Italian pizza, and I a traditional plate of assorted meats and cheeses. Both our dishes were fresh and authentic, the atmosphere quiet and quaint. The perfect beginning to a Roman holiday.
After enjoying a fantastic performance of Mary Poppins the Musical in Sacramento, the Peck family said their heartfelt goodbyes and left us at the Larson residence. We took a 3-hour nap and awoke at 4am to groggily gather our single (large) carry-on bags, containing all of our necessary belongings and accessories, as well as our (thankfully) smaller, lighter day packs. Off to Sacramento airport we rode, in the uncharacteristically rainy June weather, with Jennifer Larson as our honorable driver. After a brave yet reluctant goodbye from Jennifer, we proceeded to check in with United airlines. With only a minor delay, and no hassle with checked baggage (thanks to my mom and Rick Steves) we bypassed security with no trouble and headed toward our gate, where we sampled some bland Starbucks oatmeal and waited anxiously for our first departure. Neither of us could believe this day had finally come. We still can't.
The flight from Sacramento across the United States to Washington DC was fairly short-lived, or at the very least, I remembered little of the 5 hour flight, as I fell quickly asleep in favor of watching the exceedingly generic Adjustment Bureau. After catching some chicken tenders and braving the vast line at Subway, we found ourselves boarding the smallest commercial craft I've ever experienced, requiring us to leave our invaluable larger carry-ons in the hands of the attendants to be stowed below the plane. Between fits of sleep and fleeting worries about the fate of our baggage, the two-hour flight to Montreal was a blessedly short one.
Despite our excitement at beginning the final and most tedious leg of our exodus, the Montreal airport was both beautiful and beastly. Thankfully customs went smoothly, and in spite of a gate change, we prepared for our 8-hour trek to Rome. In all honesty, for me this was the strangest part of the travel, as most of our time on this flight was spent in darkness, which was a bit depressing. However, I must explicitly say that Air Canada was a stunning carrier, which included personal touch screens, decent in flight food, and the general amenities. The seats were comfortable, and the only complaint I can make is only a mistake on my part, as sitting at an exit door proved to be quite cold at 37000 feet, 78 degrees below.
The Italian coastline was a welcome sight, only obscured by slight cloud cover. We gathered our hefty belongings for the final time and exited the plane into the sharp contrast of 73 degrees and humid. After being shuttled like sardines to Fiumicino, we made our long journey to the bus station, following the signs, amid the rush of people, listening to the tumult of languages swirling about us constantly. Advantageously we picked up two Roma passes on our way to the bus depot, where we boarded a large charter bus to take us to the Termini station. This is where it really began.
As we lumbered from the agricultural outskirts of the Roman countryside and deeper into Rome proper, the excitement grew increasingly palpable. Signs in Italian, tiny cars vying for the same spaces as buses, and daring vespa drivers gave a hint of what was to come. Winding our way through the seedier parts of Rome, we anticipated reaching the old city center, which when it did finally appear, did so as a monarch commands attention. Modern, decrepit structures suddenly were traded for ancient robust works of achictectural mastery. Our hearts both skipped a beat as we said a quick 'ciao' to the Vatican wall, then before we knew it, we were shuffling from the bus at the Termini bus stop-- though it looked different than I had expected. Having thrown us for a bit of a loop, this turn of events proved to be the most challenging part of our first day in Rome. We headed down the street in search of a bus stop. The 73 degrees with humidity was a drastic difference from California's low 60s, and we quickly shed our jackets, and wished we could trade our jeans for shorts. After reading a bus sign or two, with no sight of our stop (Chiesa Nuova), we stopped in to a Tabacchi shop to ask for directions. Thankfully the reply told us that we needed to board bus 40, which gave us a bit of a lead. With our packs already straining our shoulders and spines, we stood at the bus stop down the street for what seemed an eternity, waiting for the 40 bus. To our dismay, every bus which would take us to our destination either whizzed by us, was too full, or we missed it for various reasons. We decided to follow the buses' routes down the road, where we found success at last. We boarded the correct bus, feeling much like obnoxious turtles in the cramped and stuffy space, though the ride through the city was worth the trouble. We hopped off at Chiesa Nuova, which we soon learned is only a two minute walk from our apartment.
We are at a perfect location. Five minutes walking in one direction gets us to piazza Navona, and an additional five minutes from there is the Pantheon. We are a two minute walk from the main street in Rome, Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, which if taken for 15-20 minutes will lead you to St. Peter's. The apartment is on Via Governo Vecchio, framed by an arched doorway. After passing through the door on the street you follow a low passage and out into an inner alley, where three small apartments sit within the shadow of the taller buildings which flank them. We found the door to #34 open, and within the owner, Andrea Marchi. He was a humorous, good-natured man in his late thirties, bespectacled with a receding hairline and slightly wild curly hair. He enthusiastically gave us the tour of the very small apartment, handed us the keys and bid farewell. Not long after we settled our belongings, the overcast weather turned to rain and going out was no longer an option. Our jetlagged bodies were grateful as we slept for several hours, sleep having been difficult on the plane. Around 7:00 that evening I woke with a start, realizing the rain had stopped. We grabbed our day packs and went to explore the neighborhood. The streets were saturated, but there was no shortage of Vespas, smart cars and pedestrians attempting to occupy the same narrow passages. The restaurants were full and the rain didn't seem to have deterred anyone in the least. We stopped at a small rustic restaurant after checking their menu, and sat down at a table with a direct view of the street. Erik ordered the quintessential Italian pizza, and I a traditional plate of assorted meats and cheeses. Both our dishes were fresh and authentic, the atmosphere quiet and quaint. The perfect beginning to a Roman holiday.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
How to Travel?
As our excursion to Europe draws nearer, increasing numbers of responses I receive toward our plans go something like this:
"I envy you!"
"I wish I could do that!"
"You are so lucky!"
The fact remains: Luck has nothing to do with executing a trip. Envy gets one nowhere. In order to travel, one must bring together the correct ingredients which, when subjected to a precise amount of pressure, coalesce into a successful trip. Now, don't get me wrong. I am perhaps the farthest thing from a travel guru. Mine is not the only way to do things. However, having been given the opportunity to travel abroad, I realize that it is possible for anyone. It's truly a far more accessible dream than you may realize.
Ingredients in the Execution of a Successful Trip:
1.) Motivation
Nothing can be built without a foundation. Travel is no different. Many people who say they wish they could travel unfortunately lack the most fundamental component: Drive. Any number of things can keep one from believing that travel is available, let alone attainable. You may understand that you desire to experience what faraway places have to offer, but feel as though the things in your life do not allow for it. Life gets in the way. You may be in college with an insane schedule, you may be a parent with a spouse and family to take care of. Whatever your situation, though, there will be a time for you. The old adage "if you want to do it, you'll find a way to do it" comes into play here. Whether it is now, or several months from now, or ten years from now, as long as that passion still resides in you, there will be a right time.
2.) Planning
Understandably, this is the most daunting phase of travel. When you are at a point where you know you want to go somewhere, but aren't quite sure how, it can be very discouraging. However, one must remember that there is no rush. You have all the time you need to plan the crap out of your trip. Goodness knows that all the components of planning can be overwhelming, but if you break down your planning factors and look at them one at a time (while keeping the big picture in mind), this phase becomes much more manageable.
The subcategories of the planning phase are most likely unique to every excursion, however I will list those that I feel manifested within the planning phase of our own trip (a separate entry on this phase will be posted later for expansion):
Note: I highly recommend Google Maps/Earth for deciding itinerary and sight grouping. These tools have been invaluable to us.
Note: Networking is also important.
Research is only a matter of a funnel system. You begin with a broad problem or question, solve it, then as you go, you move to smaller more detailed issues. It may seem intimidating at first, but in reality it is a great deal of work but it can also be very enjoyable if you let it!
• Decide which country(ies) you wish to see.
• How long you wish to stay (entire length of trip).
• If possible, decide the exact dates you would like to go. This will not only allow you to get accurate quotes on apartment and transportation costs, but it provides a framework for your research.
• Narrow down the cities you wish to visit (and in which order).
• Decide exactly which sights you would like to see in each city.
• On a calendar, make a rough outline of your itinerary (decide how many days per city).
• Group sights together according to their proximity, then designate each grouping for a day. (Google Maps/Earth is great for this)
• Gather information regarding the cost, times, and restrictions of each sight. Frommers.com is recommended.
• Find accommodations for each city (easier said than done—will be expanded later) For Italy, BB Planet is great.
• Scrounge for cheap flights- book before accommodations.
• Confirm accommodations.
• Decide on your method of travel between cities. (Trains are the way to go).
3.) Funds
Fortunately, we are at a transitional point of our lives in which we are not yet paying rent or expenditures of that sort, so a large majority of our income is funneled directly into our travel fund, or 'war chest' as my dad fondly calls it. I like to think of it to more closely resemble the Paradise Falls change jar from Up...
But anyway, I realize that many people are unable to directly stack up their funds as Erik and I have been doing, but then again, many people earn more than we do. At any rate, I believe that putting away funds for a trip is of vital importance. Even if it's a few dollars every time. Eventually, it will be sufficient. To give you a perspective, Erik and I are spending 30 days in Italy and Paris for a little over $5000 each.
4.) Actualization
Obviously, this is the most difficult yet rewarding step. If you have never traveled before (most likely if you are reading this), (though everyone is different), I can safely say that it will change you. If you have the drive for it, it will open your eyes and help you see things in ways you have never even considered before. Travel gives us a greater perspective not only of our world as it is today, but how it once was. To stand in the vast, monolithic nave of St. Peter's Basilica, watching the shafts of sunlight filter earthward through the soaring windows of its massive dome, is to stand in the present, but become conscious of the centuries upon centuries of history which permeate the very atmosphere of the place.
You may see these places in photographs a thousand times, but nothing on earth compares to witnessing them with your own eyes.
That is why we travel.
"I envy you!"
"I wish I could do that!"
"You are so lucky!"
The fact remains: Luck has nothing to do with executing a trip. Envy gets one nowhere. In order to travel, one must bring together the correct ingredients which, when subjected to a precise amount of pressure, coalesce into a successful trip. Now, don't get me wrong. I am perhaps the farthest thing from a travel guru. Mine is not the only way to do things. However, having been given the opportunity to travel abroad, I realize that it is possible for anyone. It's truly a far more accessible dream than you may realize.
Ingredients in the Execution of a Successful Trip:
1.) Motivation
Nothing can be built without a foundation. Travel is no different. Many people who say they wish they could travel unfortunately lack the most fundamental component: Drive. Any number of things can keep one from believing that travel is available, let alone attainable. You may understand that you desire to experience what faraway places have to offer, but feel as though the things in your life do not allow for it. Life gets in the way. You may be in college with an insane schedule, you may be a parent with a spouse and family to take care of. Whatever your situation, though, there will be a time for you. The old adage "if you want to do it, you'll find a way to do it" comes into play here. Whether it is now, or several months from now, or ten years from now, as long as that passion still resides in you, there will be a right time.
2.) Planning
Understandably, this is the most daunting phase of travel. When you are at a point where you know you want to go somewhere, but aren't quite sure how, it can be very discouraging. However, one must remember that there is no rush. You have all the time you need to plan the crap out of your trip. Goodness knows that all the components of planning can be overwhelming, but if you break down your planning factors and look at them one at a time (while keeping the big picture in mind), this phase becomes much more manageable.
The subcategories of the planning phase are most likely unique to every excursion, however I will list those that I feel manifested within the planning phase of our own trip (a separate entry on this phase will be posted later for expansion):
Note: I highly recommend Google Maps/Earth for deciding itinerary and sight grouping. These tools have been invaluable to us.
Note: Networking is also important.
Research is only a matter of a funnel system. You begin with a broad problem or question, solve it, then as you go, you move to smaller more detailed issues. It may seem intimidating at first, but in reality it is a great deal of work but it can also be very enjoyable if you let it!
• Decide which country(ies) you wish to see.
• How long you wish to stay (entire length of trip).
• If possible, decide the exact dates you would like to go. This will not only allow you to get accurate quotes on apartment and transportation costs, but it provides a framework for your research.
• Narrow down the cities you wish to visit (and in which order).
• Decide exactly which sights you would like to see in each city.
• On a calendar, make a rough outline of your itinerary (decide how many days per city).
• Group sights together according to their proximity, then designate each grouping for a day. (Google Maps/Earth is great for this)
• Gather information regarding the cost, times, and restrictions of each sight. Frommers.com is recommended.
• Find accommodations for each city (easier said than done—will be expanded later) For Italy, BB Planet is great.
• Scrounge for cheap flights- book before accommodations.
• Confirm accommodations.
• Decide on your method of travel between cities. (Trains are the way to go).
• Research costs of such transportation. (Ex. Would it be more cost effective to buy a EuroRail pass or to buy individual tickets?) RailEurope and TrenItalia were great for us.
Note: Traveling between countries? Flying is often cheaper!
Note: Traveling between countries? Flying is often cheaper!
• Decipher inner-city travel. This can tend to be daunting and at times frustrating, but not impossible!
• Both for fun and preparation, in Google Maps, perform walking directions from your apartment to sights/transit stops for each day. Walking Rome
• More can be added, there is no end to the research which can be done before traveling.3.) Funds
Fortunately, we are at a transitional point of our lives in which we are not yet paying rent or expenditures of that sort, so a large majority of our income is funneled directly into our travel fund, or 'war chest' as my dad fondly calls it. I like to think of it to more closely resemble the Paradise Falls change jar from Up...
But anyway, I realize that many people are unable to directly stack up their funds as Erik and I have been doing, but then again, many people earn more than we do. At any rate, I believe that putting away funds for a trip is of vital importance. Even if it's a few dollars every time. Eventually, it will be sufficient. To give you a perspective, Erik and I are spending 30 days in Italy and Paris for a little over $5000 each.
4.) Actualization
Obviously, this is the most difficult yet rewarding step. If you have never traveled before (most likely if you are reading this), (though everyone is different), I can safely say that it will change you. If you have the drive for it, it will open your eyes and help you see things in ways you have never even considered before. Travel gives us a greater perspective not only of our world as it is today, but how it once was. To stand in the vast, monolithic nave of St. Peter's Basilica, watching the shafts of sunlight filter earthward through the soaring windows of its massive dome, is to stand in the present, but become conscious of the centuries upon centuries of history which permeate the very atmosphere of the place.
You may see these places in photographs a thousand times, but nothing on earth compares to witnessing them with your own eyes.
That is why we travel.
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