To start off, yes, I thought about decomp all weekend, and how much I wished I was there, and how much I was glad I wasn't. Day 10 now and I'm starting to miss everyone terribly. Apparently, according to our really sexy coordinator Sophie who I was chatting with this morning, that fades after the second week. Awesome.
I got back last night from a really amazing scenic trip to La Spezza and le Cinque Terre. La Spezza is the main train hub right before Le Cinque Terre, which are five villages along the North Eastern coast of Italy. Each village is built into the mountains, which literally run straight into the ocean. There's little beaches and cliff diving, surrounded on all sides by these rustic towns rising in a sea of green over your head.
I met up with my friend Erin, and we spent Saturday in Vernazza, my favorite of the villages. It was all of one cobblestone road leading straight into the sea, with a small harbor and lots of giant rocks to dive off of, and lined on either side with little shops that sold jewelry and tourist trinkets. After bumming around and eating a lot of food, we went back to La Spezza on the last train (which we almost missed!), and caught a cab ride to our hotel. The hotel employees were slightly deceptive on the phone, leading us to believe that they were near La Spezza. In truth, the hotel was situated in a village at the very top of the mountain between La Spezza and Vernazza, and the cab ride cost us around 30 euro.
I swear to fuck the driver was methed up, too. He was hauling ass, passing cars at every opportunity around curves, and doing it all headbanging to eurotrance. I was buzzed, and started laughing at the insanity of it all, and he flipped on the dome light, turned around, and dead-eye stared at me, asking, "problem?" I shook my head frantically, hoping that the faster I put him at his ease, the sooner he'd turn his attention back to the road we were
still driving down.
Our hotel was actually really neat, though, and was built into an old monastary. The room was in the top of one of the towers, and looked a lot like a treehouse, with big windows built into the roof that opened up to constellations that were all in the wrong places in the sky above. We drank from a bottle of Absolute I bought at the only liquor store that sold vodka in the whole of Cinque Terre and listened to the people in the hotel resturaunt below telling stories to each other in Italian.
The next morning I learned why a hotel built into an old monastary can shed its novelty in so much preservation as they rang the old bells at sunrise, and then again every half hour for the rest of the morning. Shower, breakfast, and three really week espressos later, I was drop-dead tired and passing out sporadically on the train ride back to the last village in le Cinque Terre. We planned on hiking, but with the sun burning down at over 100 degrees, we opted to just use the train and beach hop instead. About halfway through the day we split an Adderral and spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on a resturaunt balconey talking about out fucked up relationship problems and making plans to hang out again before returning to the land of trucks and heavy drinking.
After a day of sun and swimming, we almost missed our train back to the central station (again) to get back to Rome and Florence, respectively. On the train I watched the countryside evolve from mountains into sloping hills, forests, and plains, writing in my journal and drafting out thought bubbles for story ideas. Later, I walked around the train, and ended up sitting with an Italian woman who tolerated me using my dictionary to have a real conversation with her. She was sitting with some of my classmates, so they had me translate for them so they could ask her questions about Italy. It was pretty fun, because in the midst of our conversation, she was making fun of them and telling me ways to pick up girls with really easy phrases that would get past their anti-tourist guard.
After getting home I discovered all of my food gone and the water heater not working. Had a nice sit down with the two new roomates who arrived right before I got home, who have very quickly become my favorites, Guillmo and Leo. They're both from Honduras, but live in Austin now. We stayed up until two and joked around about traveling abroad, and they quickly endeared themselves to me when they asked me where the good clubs were. Telling them I didn't know, Guillmo said, "I go to raves back home, I just want to find somewhere to dance."
Finally, some fellow conspirators! We agreed to exhaust all of our available resources in an effort to find some kind of fun evening activities. Despite what some commentors on here have complained about (I'm e-looking at you, Shawn), I'm sucking up plenty of history, art, and culture, but fuck me if I can't find a place to have fun that isn't rife with drunkass Americans and shitty music.
My mom is pitching the idea of sending my brother to meet me here when my program ends and taking him around Italy, then using his Spanish to get us through Spain. I'm tempted, and I know the two of us could have an awesome time sneaking off to Amsterdam and Greece for more euro-typico adventures. It would, however, overlap my New York trip, and I'd miss out on getting to see Ed and Diana again, as well as going to the Philly pre-burning man compression party. I told her I'd think about it for a week and see how comfortable I'm feeling in my new digs.
I finally have my pictures on my laptop, so I'm just waiting for them to turn on the wireless at LDM so I can upload them and start filling this blog out a little with more than words. Like I said before, I miss everyone terribly.
-Sean
When we find that a picture of ourself in someone else's place has been moved, does it mean they love us less?
