Arrivederci!

I’m sitting in the Fiumicino Airport, with a Prada on one side and a Gucci on the other, drinking my last Fanta (somehow, they are way more delicious in Europe than in the states) and getting my last view of Rome. Or, rather, my last view of Italy, because Rome is about 40 minutes away and this doesn’t really count. And as my last view of Italy, it doesn’t really count either, because it is an airport like most airports, with an uninspiring view of the tarmac. (The best airport I’ve seen was in Zurich, because the Swiss Alps are all around and it’s gorgeous despite its airport status. Also, they gave me free chocolate on my flight, so I’m a fan. Yes, I can be easily swayed/bought by chocolate. Keep that in mind, politicians.)

I’m experiencing severe withdrawal right now; I spent most of yesterday either wandering around lugging ridiculously heavy suitcases over cobblestone (regrets…so many regrets…) or sitting in my hotel room watching you-tube videos. (It was the airport hotel, so it would have cost at least 14 euros to get back to the city center and I was pretty wiped out once I checked in after waiting in line for an hour.) My friends are nowhere to be seen; they’re either exploring a new country or already back in the states. This is what I get for leaving on Sunday, not Saturday when they kicked us out of our apartments - no one to talk to in the airport. I miss everyone already. I find myself wishing I had someone’s story from class to critique/read, because I need some connection to these people that I met and fell in deep platonic love with over the last five weeks.

However, I guess the lack of friends in the airport gives me time to write this potentially final travel blog post, updating you all with my adventures from the last week. I’ve still got forty minutes until my flight boards, which allows me to type and enjoy my final Fanta in peace. (So good…)

But where to begin? So much has happened in the time since I last posted, and so there are many adventures to recollect. I guess I shall start with a brief description of my excellent trip to Milan and Cremona, because chronologically that came first.

When I come back to Italy (not if, when. I tossed a second coin into the Trevi Fountain Tuesday night, so it shall come to pass) I am spending at least a good three days in Milan. Everything about it was sparkling and wonderful and beautiful, from the glorious rows of glistening shops to the incredible beauty of their duomo that greets you in all of its shining splendor as you walk up the metro steps. It was a truly breathtaking sight to behold, my first few minutes in Milan.

The shopping, as well, was fantastic. I was disheartened by the fact that the “reasonably priced” shops that I found described still far surpassed my budget, but I still found a few excellent gems to serve as souvenirs for me and friends. (You’re welcome!) I also found the first opera house in Italy (and the most famous), the Teatro Alla Scala (or La Scala for short), which was super exciting. There wasn’t time to see a show, but I took some photos and ate at a caffè nearby - the Caffè Verdi! That was my second musically-related caffè of the day; I stopped in the Caffè Stradivari in Cremona that morning.

Cremona was also beautiful, at least in the center of town. This was one of my favorite places that I visited during these five weeks, because it was the home of the best violin makers in history - the Guarneri family, the Amati family, and of course, Stradivari himself. I walked through a quaint market area, bustling on a Saturday morning, and found my museums of choice. Unfortunately, I only got to go through one of the ones I found, because a private tour was going through one of them and the lady selling tickets was unsure of when the tour would be done, and I had a train to catch back to Milan. I was disappointed, but the other museum was so fun that I definitely got over the lack of the other. The museum I did get to tour was the Stradivari Museum, which was part of the main museum of Milan. This meant that I had to trek through all the other exhibits quickly (ignoring a lot of art, sadly) to see what I really wanted to see. But the Strad exhibit did not disappoint.

The museum had dozens of old instruments on display, including some by Guarneri and Amati. But the highlight of the exhibit were the beautiful Strad violins, some of which were ornately carved and decorated and looked incredibly lovely. I have never been more tempted to steal something from a museum before, or more tempted to play a violin. (I wanted those Strads…they were gorgeous! One of the ornate ones was from his golden period, and that was my favorite. I was in intense lust for those beautiful instruments.)

I would have been content with just the instrument displays, but the museum also had an incredible collection of tools from Stradivari’s workshop. There were patterns that he used to carve his wood, metal tools used to cut wood and craft the instruments, bridges and tuning pegs, and even part of the sign from his shop. There were letters written in his own hand to patrons, and it was all very, very exciting. I took lots of pictures - flash off, of course - and it was fantastic.

The rest of my time was spent in Milan, shopping and eating. It was fantastic, but my feet - dressed in my flats, not sneakers, since I was in the fashion capital of the universe - were very unhappy with me.

After that weekend trip, I began my last weekend in Rome. I walked around a ton, spent a great deal of time editing my last drafts for my creative writing class, and hung out with my friends. Unlike most people, my class didn’t require a final on the exam day, so I didn’t have to spend my last week studying in my room like a lot of people, which was nice. On my own, I walked to the Vatican and saw St. Peter’s Basilica, with Michelangelo’s Pieta inside (it was magnificent), and explored the Vatican Museum, which was connected to the glorious Sistine Chapel. I cannot even recount how amazing both the Pieta and the Sistine Chapel were, but I’m not going to lie - I teared up a bit when I first saw both of them. That’s how incredible they were.

I also explored Rome at night with my friends, frequenting the Spanish Steppes and the Trevi Fountain, tossing in a coin to ensure that I will return to Italy. It was a great night, even if it was just a Tuesday.

On Wednesday, all the writing classes (fiction, poetry, and literary translation) had a reading. It was catered with food far more delicious than any of the summer’s cafeteria mess, along with wine and great entertainment. We all read parts from our work, including our professor, and although it lasted 2.5 hours, the time flew. I already miss my classmates and their excellent prose and our entertaining class discussions.

Thursday night, we had our final “family” potluck dinner. We had these once a week, and our final one consisted of leftovers and 3 different types of pasta, which was entertaining. We failed to open the only bottle of white wine we had (out of the 4 bottles at the table) even though there were 4 reasonably strong guys and some strong girls as well sitting at the table, trying to pull out the cork. We all failed and gave it up for a lost cause. We then played our last few rounds of cards (I am now well versed in the art of playing Hearts, Cucumber, and Asshole) and parted ways; most people had to study, and one person had an early Friday flight.

Friday night, five of us remaining went out to dinner and then hit the town. I had my final authentic pizza, final mixed drinks, and (the worst part) my final cone of gelato. I am definitely going to miss my favorite combination of flavors - Nocciola and Pistacchio, or hazelnut and (obviously) pistachio. I cannot get gelato this good anywhere in the states, especially in this best-of-best flavor combination.

Saturday consisted of packing like mad, throwing away 5 weeks worth of clutter, and washing dishes before departing. I’m going to miss my own personal kitchen, especially when school starts and all I will have will be a giant fridge and a microwave with which to cook.

I keep catching myself using the language, as well. I’ve gotten on my flight, and instinctively, every time someone hands me something (such as the stewardess), I immediately say “Grazie.” On this plane from Rome to D.C. Italian is obviously allowed, but I’m going to have to keep it in check once I get to the states. Ciao, Mi dispiace, si, and countless other words have wormed their way into my daily vocabulary, and it is going to be difficult to break the habit, especially because I don’t want to let the words go.

I guess this brings my travel blog to a close; I’m on a plane that will arrive in the states in 9 hours (and where, hopefully, I will find some wi-fi and post this so that you all can read it!) and I will have left my beloved Italy for good. For now. I swear that I will be back; the Trevi Fountain is calling for me.

Until I can return, I’ll busy myself with Italian language classes and the new Woody Allen movie, the title of which aptly fits my thoughts right now: To Rome, With Love.

Rome, my beautiful Italy, it’s been a blast. We will meet again, someday in the future.

Arrivederci, Roma.

Baci,

Giulia