| In Case You Were Wondering |
[Nov. 7th, 2004|03:50 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Caedmon's Call - 40 Acres | ] |
In case you were wondering where the title of my blog comes from, I thought I would explain it. When I was in seventh grade, I participated in the Duke Talent Identification Program. All the 7th graders in the South who scored above a certain level on the standardized tests that you take in 6th grade has the opportunity to take the SAT. If you score above a certain level they invite you to a ceremony at Duke that summer and give you a book. Well I went to the thing and got the book, and the keynote speaker at the thing was the president of the university. Her speach was entitled "On Furnishing the Backroom of the Mind." I still have a copy of the speech that they gave out, but I don't have it handy and I wouldn't want to transcribe it even if I did. But luckily for all of us, she likes that topic a lot, so I found a similar speech that she gave to some prep school in Durham for their graduation a couple years ago. Here is an excerpt that echoes what I remember of the original speech that I heard about ten years ago:
One of my favorite authors has an interesting perspective on this matter. Michel de Montaigne, a sixteenth-century Frenchman, coined a book title that has now become a common noun - Essais. The French root of this word means to try, to experiment, to give things a chance and see what happens. Montaigne wrote candid and idiosyncratic accounts of his explorations of the world, both the world outside (he was an inveterate traveler) and the world within himself. His favorite workplace was the tower library on his rural estate, to which he climbed by a series of narrow stairs reaching the very top of his domain, with a view of vineyards and fields, a ceiling carved with his favorite quotations, and lines of books around the shelves. If you go to France today you can still see that library and understand vividly what his life was like more than four hundred years ago. Here Montaigne would retreat to think and write.
He hit upon a lovely image that I commend to you: the "back room of the mind" - literally an "arrière-boutique," a workshop out back. He thought of his own mind as a kind of tower library to which he could retreat even when he was far from home, filled with quotations from wise people and experimental thoughts and jokes and anecdotes, where he could keep company with himself.
He described it this way:
We must reserve a back shop all our own, entirely free, in which to establish our real liberty and our principal retreat and solitude. Here our ordinary conversation must be between us and ourselves. . . We have a soul that can be turned upon itself; it can keep itself company; it has the means to attack and the means to defend, the means to receive and the means to give.
We all have such back shops in our minds; and the most valuable and attractive people we know have rich and fascinating intellectual furniture in those spaces. Montaigne made clear that he would rather fashion his mind than furnish it-would rather develop his own ideas after handling and examining and trying on other people's, than to blindly accept another's stock in trade, however handsome.
In that workshop, the one filled with scraps and ideas and half-finished projects, you are all and only you, free to improvise, free to play, free to debate with your most demanding, irascible, and harsh critic-yourself. "What you must seek," says Montaigne, "is no longer that the world should speak of you, but how you should speak to yourself." And he added this warning: "Retire into yourself, but first prepare to receive yourself there. . . . There are ways to fail in solitude as well as in company."
You set the stage for your own critical thinking through what you might call informed solitude. This is quite different from the public displays of your learning, such as the formal essays you submit. "It is not enough to have gotten away from the crowd," writes Montaigne. "We must get away from the love of crowds that is within us, we must sequester ourselves and regain possession of ourselves."
Montaigne was not advocating a life of isolation, but a life in which you are finally answerable to yourself. Informed solitude is not antisocial; it's just that Montaigne's multiple companions included voices from 2,500 years of recorded history. He kept the company of historical figures, saints and sages from throughout the ages—and didn't have to worry that his back-room might start to get too crowded!
At the same time, Montaigne also held ongoing discussions with real, living people, and placed an extremely high value on friendship. Virginia Woolf, who praised Montaigne with the words, "Blessed are those who chat easily with their neighbors," summed it up, recognizing that our neighbors include everyone from the janitor to Socrates: "To communicate is our chief business," said Virginia Woolf, "society and friendship our chief delights; and reading, not to acquire knowledge, not to earn a living, but to extend our intercourse beyond our own time and province."
Think of your education, then, as a way of furnishing the back room of the mind. We all know people whose favorite piece of mental furniture is a wide-screen television set, permanently tuned to MTV or Buffy. But this is why Montaigne says, "First prepare to receive yourself." It's important to note that you don't have to complete the job by the time you get your college degree.
In fact, a worthwhile education, unlike most consumer goods, gets better the more you use it, improving with age like a Stradivarius cello. If you employ your time in college wisely, you will not just complete the requisite number of courses, but you will prepare yourself for a lifelong odyssey of learning, experiment, and adventure. You will continually redecorate the back room of your mind-perhaps the most important space of all. |
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| Back in the World |
[Nov. 7th, 2004|03:32 am] |
| [ | music |
| | The Schuers - Trevor | ] |
Well, I'm back.
For those of you who might care, those are the closing words of The Lord of the Rings. Also, I'm in California again and I've just about readjusted to sedentary life. But I'll skip over all of that because I have a better story to tell right now. As you may know, this past Tuesday was election day here in the United States. However, that is only relevant here because part of this story takes place at the local precinct voting location. The other part takes place in our apartment, where I had been sitting watching CNN and MSNBC all day. The polls on the east coast had closed and the returns were coming in when T-Bone got home from work and changed clothes before going out to vote again. Some time later, he came back and the first words out of his mouth when he came in the door were, "I saw the prettiest girl working at the voting place. I was going to leave her a note, but I couldn't find anything to write on." So of course we found him something to write on, and with a little urging from myself and Naseem once he got home, we sent him back over to the school with a note and told him we weren't going to let him back in until he had delivered it. He told us later that the extra motivation was necessary, so if anything further comes of this, Naseem and I claim full credit.
Of course, the story doesn't end there. A couple of hours later, Brad went over to vote also. We told him that he wasn't allowed back in unless he told the girl to call T-Bone. I was going to go next and tell her that I had already voted absentee, but to call T-Bone anyway, and then Naseem was going to go and explain that he was in fact not a US citizen, but that she should really call his friend. Unfortunately for us, T-Bone wouldn't let us do it. It worked out all right though, because later that night Jessica actually called him. Yeah, I was kind of shocked too. But she did call and she and her friend went out with T-Bone, Brad, Julie, and Naseem on Friday night. Apparently, she is a biking, golfing, skiing, civic minded christian who happens to be friends with most of the US Postal Service cycling team. In other words, she is T-Bone's perfect woman. The only problem with the evening was convincing him not to call her that night at one in the morning when he got home. And I still haven't even seen this girl. But I'm still taking credit for the whole thing.
I promise I'm working on getting some of my pictures up online, but I have to figure out where I can store them in order to link to them from livejournal. Yet another thing on my to do list. |
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| oh, yeah |
[Oct. 11th, 2004|06:00 am] |
because I remembered that I can link to pictures here:
and here are some other random scenes I could find on the web. A more comprehensive review will follow when I can upload my pictures.
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| Neverending Adventure |
[Oct. 11th, 2004|05:09 am] |
| [ | music |
| | yes, for the first time in a month | ] |
...is not always a good thing. In addition to walking completely across Florence twice with my pack to find a hostel with a vacancy, I had an interesting time getting back to England on Thursday. The plane was late, which didn't really surprise or concern me until it was pointed out to me that the hostel I had a reservation at would be closed by the time I got there. The person who pointed this out was Neil. Neil and his girlfriend Amanda were returning to London after a few days spent scuba diving near Santa Margherita. Neil also, at the time of pointing this out to me, offered me the use of his couch for the night. I gratefully accepted. The ensuing plane ride, wait, bus ride, wait, train station, wait, and taxi ride were relatively painless compared with how bad it could have been, but we still didn't get to their flat until after 3:30 in the morning. So after a cup of tea, we didn't get to sleep until 4:00. But it beats sleeping outside the train station. They also pointed me toward the cheap bus line to Oxford the next morning, which saved me about ten pounds (that's around $8,000 for those of you not familiar with the exchange rate - about enough for a sandwich and a coke, if you find a cheap place, you could probably afford some crisps on top of that). That was part one of the adventure.
Part two consisted of showing up in Oxford with absolutely no idea of where I was or where I was going. I had Maggie's phone number, but due to an unfortunate miscommunication she had left her phone at home. I choose to look at the ensuing afternoon as comical rather than annoying (or disastrous). The short version is that I spent several hours sitting on a bench near the bus station realizing just how many degrees of latitude separate England and Italy. On the upside, I ran into my RA from Casa Italiana who is also starting at Oxford this fall. But just as I had given up and gotten too cold (even after a hot chocolate that only cost me about seventy or eighty bucks) Christina (my RA) showed up again, I rechecked my email and Maggie had emailed me back with precise directions on where to meet her and what to do in the meantime, and the sun came out. The sun coming out made absolutely no difference to the temperature, but it was nicely symbolic and so I didn't argue the point.
Oxford is an incredible town. It has an atmosphere all its own that I have never encountered the like of anywhere else in all my travels. This place is what the Ivy League schools are trying to be, and now I can see how far short they have fallen. In one of Maggie's earlier emails she had said that I would love it, all this Oxfordness. She was right. There really is no other way to put it without resorting to either complicated and inadequate descriptions of historical development of academic communities and synergies of disparate organizations of various types and general English culture or coming up with an entirely abstract vocabulary of ideas that can't be put directly into words. The best way to put it is to quote one of my favorite bits from Chesterton and say that here "ideas are real in the same way that people are real." The colleges themselves are merely ideas expressed through gothic (mostly) architecture and an accumulation of traditions. But if you asked me how it differed from any other university, I would be hard pressed to pin it down for you.
I can say that they have probably the best bookstore I've ever been in here. Blackwell's is about the size of a small aircraft carrier - or a large battleship. And combined with the Oxfordness in the air, one is likely to go off and start buying philosophy books at the slightest provocation. Luckily (depending on how you look at it) I made it out with only two books, one of which I had been planning to buy anyway. Go me. Maggie also showed me around some of the better local places to eat and drink, respectively. And I walked in the deer park at Magdalene College where CS Lewis and Tolkien used to stroll and talk. I'll have to go back and reread Lord of the Rings and the Narnia books again to see if I have gained a deeper insight into those guys. Maybe; I wouldn't be surprised.
My list of things to do is now down to Saint Paul's Cathedral and Gatwick airport. One tomorrow and one Wednesday morning. Then I get a couple weeks at home, where I hope it is warmer than it is here. That shouldn't be difficult. |
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| What day is it again? |
[Oct. 6th, 2004|02:42 am] |
I discovered this morning that I had lost a day somewhere between Sicily and Rome. I was trying to decide when to head up to Florence and I asked Dominique (the South African working the hostel I stayed at this time) what day it was. The 6th, she replied, after a significant pause. Ah ha! That means I have to fly out of Genova tomorrow night! Somehow I had thought I had another day before my plane to London. Apparently not. Oh well. One more afternoon and morning in Florence and then I'm out of this country for a while.
Speaking of being out of places, I'm pretty sure that since I'm leaving the country tomorrow, I won't be back to Rome again either. That's also OK with me, though I have to say that it has grown on me a bit since the first time I was here three weeks ago. I'm getting used to walking around disdaining traffic and being indifferent to sidewalks. The handiest trick I've picked up is the anti-street-merchant vibe. I've learned to radiate an aura of unwillingness to buy cheap souvenirs that they can sense from a distance and so they mostly leave me alone now. Well, that and I didn't get within a kilometer of the Trevi Fountain this time.
Also speaking of being out of places, I have a train to catch in about ten or fifteen minutes, so I should be on my way. |
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| Public Endangerment |
[Oct. 3rd, 2004|07:53 pm] |
Today I joined the ranks of Italians that non-Italians are constantly making fun of and standing in awe of at the same time. Yes, I'm talking about the Vespa riders. Granted, I'm not dodging around tour buses in Rome, but I had such a good time today zooming around Lipari on my little rented scooter. In addition to saving me a 2 kilometer walk just to get to the closest beach, I got to ride up to one of the summits of the island and look out over all the surrounding islands and down on the port. That alone would have taken me all day and left me in a coma, most likely. And that was just the first hour.
Then I went to an incredibly cool little chapel up on a hillside on the northwest corner of the island overlooking the ocean and three other islands. I spend some time just sitting on a rocky outcropping behind the church admiring the view and enjoying the sun and wind and solitude. Then I took a tour of the rest of the island, stopping at one little town for a dip in the Tyrrhenian Sea and at another to take pictures of the pumice mining operations. Then I had to return to the port to get gas. I grabbed a late lunch and then headed back to one of the beaches to read some more of the Economist (which I had picked up to read on the train a couple days ago). I wound up the day by heading to the southwestern part of the island and finding a secluded little cove that I had to hike a kilometer or so into from the road. I don't think there were more than five people on the beach there the entire time I was there. I watched the sun set and then headed back to town.
However, even after having such a great day, I realized that I can only lay on the beach for so long here. I don't want to spend my time in Italy doing something I could do at home (and will do most likely), no matter how beatiful and relaxing it is here. Speaking of which, here's a digression. This place really, really reminds me of Saint Simons. The touristy shops, the restaurants everywhere serving seafood, the mix of locals and tourists about even because it's the end of the season, the way the locals are constantly running into people they know, while the tourists never do, and most especially the ocean. This place is a bit less crowded than Saint Simons ever gets, but I think the population just of Lipari is only around 1,000, and there's no bridge to the mainland here either. Winter must be surreal.
OK, back on topic. I realized that I want to spend the last few days I have in Italy really in Italy proper. So I had to find an Internet cafe to check the train schedules out of here. And so I had to write about riding my scooter today. And so here I am. But I think I will be back in Rome tomorrow. Funny how my least favorite city of all the cities I've visited is the one that I keep returning to. But you know what they say about all roads leading to someplace or other. Anyway, I'm going to see if I can catch up with Junior in Florence in a couple days. Who knows what I'll do for the day in between. That should give me time to do my shopping and catch my plane out of Genoa in good time. And hopefully I can meet a few new friends too. By the way, I was serious about the shopping bit; I already have two comissions for purchases - so get your orders in soon. |
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| Did I say 'one' extra day? |
[Oct. 2nd, 2004|06:51 pm] |
For your information, you must reserve seats on overnight trains at least one day in advance. Not that this is a bad thing - especially if it means spending another day in Perugia. This time I spent half the day with a German guy that I met last night named Vincent. It was interesting to hear a German perspective on European political issues (as it tends to differ from the Italian or British or American or Australian view) and other issues in general. It turned out that we had some common art and literature interests as well, which is always a nice change of pace from talking politics or more practical things like where the cheapest hostels in Rome are. Speaking of Rome, I had a six hour layover there because I left Perugia after lunch (to be sure that I left at all). This turned out to be quite fun because I took Vincent's advice and took the Metro to the Spanish Steps to hang out. After a suitable interval of passively people watching, I made a calculated guess as to who spoke English and met a couple girls from Denver who had just gotten into town that evening. We saw the Trevi Fountain by night and had a good dinner at a little cafe facing the Pantheon.
This is where things got surreal. As I was going inside the restaurant to use the bathroom before we headed back towards the train station, a guy at the bar asked where I was from. I told him California. He asked where in California. I told him near San Francisco. He asked where near San Francisco. I told him Palo Alto. He asked if I went to Stanford. I said yes. Then he said, "I thought so. I used to own a restaurant in San Francisco called the Steps of Rome and I've seen you in there before." I would ask 'what are the odds' but I doubt anyone reading this will actually compute them, so I won't bother being rhetorical. But to continue the story, I got Enzo (his name) to write a birthday message for Michael Siliski (my roommate that I used to go to the Steps of Rome with, for those of you who don't know him) because he is having a birthday party the day I get back to San Francisco. I also now know the name of the new owner of the Steps of Rome, so I can say hi next time I'm there and tell him that Enzo from Rome said to take care of me. Word.
Due to a perhaps not surprisingly inefficient left luggage office at Roma Termini, I almost missed my train to Sicily, but luckily the train was about twenty minutes late, so there was no problem.
Now I am in Lipari, which is gorgeous, but kind of empty right now. I met some people from Davidson College on the train down, but they are staying somewhere else and I lost track of them when they got of the ferry to spend the first afternoon at Vulcano. So I am on my own again, which is slightly easier to adjust to this time since I have had some experience now. It also means that I can spend as much time in the museum as I can stand and lay on the beach for as long as I like. The museum here is absolutely fantastic. They have an overview of settlements on this island dating back to the fourth millenium BC. Yes, I said millenium. This includes ruins, pottery, and tools from every major civilization to live here all the way up to the Spanish who were here until (I think) 1856. The Greek collection is staggeringly huge. By the last few rooms I was just cruising by to get out because my legs couldn't take any more. But that didn't stop me from walking to the next town over the hard way - over the mountain instead of through the tunnel. But the views were more than worth it.
I'm paying about three times the going rate for internet because I'm so far in the boonies, so now I have to take time to find a flight back to London and maybe a place to stay on my way to meet that flight. So until I'm back in more digitally civilized parts of the world, arrivederci. |
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| Spanish and Italian really are similar! |
[Sep. 29th, 2004|10:10 am] |
And I proved it conclusively yesterday by spending a couple hours talking to people from Spain in Italian. Well, that by itself doesn't prove anything except that I can talk for a long time, but they actually spoke back to me in Spanish and a little English and I could understand most everything. My multilingual pidgin is getting quite good these days.
In other news I decided to stay in Perugia another day. I had planned meeting people for dinner and then running to the train station to get the night train to Sicily, but the departure for the park (where we were to have a picnic) ran late and so I just booked another night in the hostel rather than running off even before sitting down to dinner. But I'm leaving this evening. I swear.
Speaking of news, I saw on TV yesterday that the two Simones were found alive and have been brought back to Italy. I have no idea if this has been on the news in the US at all, but in Italy it has been front page for quite a while. Two Italian women - both named Simone - working for an international aid organization were kidnapped a few weeks ago and it had been two weeks after the deadline set by their captors and no one had heard anything. But yesterday they were found somewhere and by this morning I think they are in Rome. This is a good thing. You should celebrate.
Last but not least, if anyone wants anything brought back from Italy, now is the time to make requests. I think I'll be flying out of Milan because it's cheap, so I will have one last run on the train through the entire country and I will be more than happy to stop off at multiple locations and make purchases. Also, I've been having a really hard time not buying anything, so if I'm buying for someone else, I may make it out of this country without spending too much money. Yes, the dollar is down against the euro, but pizza is always cheap. So far my budget is bent but not broken, and since the next few days are probably going to be very cheap - exploring the coastline doesn't cost anything - I'm hopeful for getting it back into shape so I can completely ruin it 24 hours before I leave for home.
I apologise for the very long sentences. I am verbose. I am also effusive. This is a bad combination for writing about travel. |
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| Road Companions |
[Sep. 28th, 2004|04:19 pm] |
Three of my all time top 5 interests are travelling, meeting new people, and talking about philosophy/theology. As far as these interests are concerned, Perugia has been absolutely smashing (as the Brits might say). Aside from the inherent beauty of a medieval hill town overlooking the Umbrian countryside, there is a university for foreign students (literally, it's called the Università per Stranieri), and I met an Aussie named Junior (James) and had some absolutely amazing conversations with over the last two or three days. I've also met Julia, James, and Andrew from the US; Jesse, Sara, and Saskia from Holland; Tim and Rachel from Australia; Denisa from Czech Republic and Joanna from Poland. A few of the spellings are speculative. The Aussies win hands down in terms of friendliness and willingness to up and head off to visit a place or a restaurant or what have you, but the girls from some of the eastern European countries have had more interesting insights about international relations and American issues from a foreign point of view. All in all a great place to spend time, whether it be visiting Assissi (which I'll mention shortly) or sitting on the terrace looking out over the countryside while having a beer and talking about history. Of course, if you're going to talk history, it's always helpful to do it with someone who speaks your language - which this town is also great for, whatever language you may speak.
As far as sights go, the countryside itself is dominant just because every time you turn around you have a view for miles and miles. But Assissi is also definitely worth a visit. I saw the tomb of Saint Francis and the body of Saint Clare, two of the three main namesakes of Bay Area cities. The churches and cloisters are beautiful, and the town matches them. Everything is done in white stone with the occasional pink marble accent and the architecture is very clean Romanesque without the imposing dimensions of the Gothic or the overbearing decoration of the Baroque that you would see in Rome or Venice. There is also a ruined fifteenth century fort overlooking the rest of the town that is currently being renovated as a national museum. There are some really cool passageways through the battlements and even more incredible than usual views of the countryside from the only currently accessible tower. And for some reason, there were blackberry bushes all around it.
With only two more destinations before I head home, I'm starting to think beyond travelling, but not too much. Besides, I still have two more weeks until I fly out of London, and a lot can happen in that time. After all, a lot has happened just in the last three days. |
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| Things to remember |
[Sep. 25th, 2004|03:37 pm] |
1. Don't go to Arezzo. If it looks like you have to change trains there, find another way.
2. Make friends with Italians. My roommate last night in the hostel was Luigi from Siena. He didn't speak much English and my Italian was not much better, but when I left he gave me his contact info and told me I had a place to stay if I'm ever in Tuscany again.
3. Go to the Eolian Islands. I may be jumping the gun on this one because I won't actually have been there for a few more days, but with an island named Vulcano and one named Stromboli how can you go wrong.
4. The internet costs money. This is easy to forget in the US - particularly in Si Valley.
5. Due to #4, that's all I'm writing for now. Also because I'm cold and I need to put on a jacket and get some food before the train to Perugia gets here. |
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| Berkelogna |
[Sep. 24th, 2004|05:36 pm] |
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Today I took a day trip to Bologna. It has two nicknames, La Rosso - "The Red", and La Grassa - "The Fat". Red because of it's brick architecture in the historic town center and also because of it's role as the historic home of the Italian Communist party and the Italian Socialist Party. Fat because of it's rich cooking. Well, the brick buildings were pretty, the people walking the streets could have come straight from Berkeley, and even though I only had a couple pieces of pizza, I agree with the bit about the cooking. I climbed the Torre degli Assinelli, which is the twelfth century version of a skyscraper and got some great pictures of the neighboring Torre delle Garisende leaning in the opposite direction to the tower I was in. It's an impressive view. At 97.6 meters and 498 steps to the top, it had better be. Italy is the only country in the world that could charge people money to climb that many steps while not watching tv. |
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| I am the Monkey! |
[Sep. 23rd, 2004|03:48 pm] |
This really should have gone in my last post, but it's too good a story to omit. When Jeff and I were going through security at the Vatican Museums, the security guard who was telling me where to go to stash my pocketknife before going inside looked at my backpack and saw the Kerry-Edwards button I've been wearing. He then turned to me with a big smile on his face and the following dialogue ensued:
guard: Ah! You are the monkey!
me: utter confusion
guard: The monkey, the monkey!
me: utter confusion
guard: In the vote. The monkey and the elephant. You are the monkey!
me: Oh! The donkey!
guard: Yes! Yes! The donkey! You are the donkey!
me: Right. I am the donkey.
Apparently the guards there have a little game that has something to do with observing the buttons people wear. I couldn't figure out what the game was, but I did come to understand that they hadn't seen a single button for Bush. Apparently a lot of Americans come through and try to pretend they're Canadian. But the Vatican guards are far too canny for that; they know that those people are really Americans and reassure them that it's OK. I imagine that real Canadians probably get reassured too.
Anyway, as of my last writing, I was getting ready to leave Rome and head for Naples. However, when I checked availability of hostels, I couldn't find a single one in Naples. Or Sorrento. Or Amalfi. But there was one in Positano that had space, so I booked it for two nights. That was the beginning of my adventure. I got to Naples the next day and was rather dismayed to see that it was, in addition to being an ancient yet still thriving seaport, also sort of a hole. (That apt description came from Dick, whom we will meet in a moment.) So I was relieved that I would not be stopping there. I checked the departures for a train to Sorrento (no trains run to Positano, you have to take a bus from Sorrento) and found that there were none. Undeterred, I waited in line a half hour for the only open ticket counter for local service and asked. A simple matter; €3.20 and instructions to go downstairs. Downstairs I go. Now I am in the Naples metro station and no train for Sorrento is in sight. I ask an attendant who happens to be there and he makes sure I intend to go to 'So'rrento and not some other place ending in 'rrento' and points me further down the hall where I am just in time to catch a commuter rail line for the other side of the bay.
A quick side note here: the walls around the commuter lines leaving Stezione Piazzale G. Garibaldi have works by some of the best graffiti artists it has been my privilege to see. But I was too slow on the draw to get any pictures.
An hour or so later I arrive in Sorrento and duly buy my bus ticket and sit down to wait about forty minutes until it arrives. Shortly before the scheduled time, I am informed by a couple from Australia (?) that the bus is not stopping in Positano because there has been an accident and the road is closed. Yes, there is only one road into Positano, this is not unusual. We are instructed to try the ferry. Ah, the beauty of coastal towns, there is more than one way to arrive. Except for today. Today, the ferry has been canceled. We are instructed to try the bus. Apparently information is slow to disseminate in Sorrento. After hiking back up the cliff to the train station, more information is forthcoming: the road is not closed because of an accident, the road is gone because of a landslide. So much for that plan. Positano is closed today, folks. Thanks for playing, please try again.
However, in possession of this information, I was able to win the good graces of a group of New Zealanders who were also planning on visiting Positano that day - not that winning their good graces would have been difficult otherwise, Dick, Ted, Amy, and Luke were an incredibly friendly and easygoing lot. Anyway, they found a campground nearby that had a six person bungalow free and after they asked if I was interested, we jumped on it. The next day, upon finding out that the road was still closed (not surprising) and that no ferries were running today because of rough seas, I decided to give Positano a miss and get myself out of Campania. So I bid a fond farewell to the Kiwis and hopped a train north. On the way, I remembered that the spur line I was on happened to run past the ruins at Pompeii, so I decided that I should stop. I spent a fairly enjoyable afternoon poking around the ruins and trying to pretend I was a Roman citizen and then decided I didn't want to risk sleeping in the train station and found a hostel in the adjoining modern town of Pompei to stay in that night. I won't go into what the ruins were like because I can't adequately convey it in this medium. I'll post a photojournal sometime after I get back, but I doubt that will be adequate either. I will say that you get a much better idea of what Roman life was like back in the day at Pompei than you do anywhere in Rome itself.
I quite liked the modern town of Pompei, despite it's being panned by the guidebook as depressing, etc. Probably ninety plus percent of the population was out on the main street and in the main piazza for the evening passeggiata (pre/post dinner walk the streets time), so I got a great look at what I can only assume is a normal Italian town on a normal Italian Sunday evening. I also met a friendly Jody (North Englander) at the hostel who walked with me to find some pizza and gelato for dinner and helped me compare notes on the US v/ the UK.
The next day, I headed north again back to Rome because that's where all the trains go when you're in Naples. I ended up spending a couple nights back in Rome to see the Museo Borghese and get my bearings again and then headed further north up to the Emilia-Romagna Region. I was planning on staying in Bologna, which is a University town and also a fairly progressive one politically (housing the historical headquarters of the Italian Communist party), but there was no room at the inn (again) and I luckily ended up in Modena, where I sit this very minute. I say luckily because after a quick walk around town last night after getting in, I decided that this is my favorite city to date. At least as far as a place to live is concerned. It's a beautiful city of somewhere between 150,000 and 200,000 people and they are all fashionable, even by Italian standards. There are tons of little shops and restaurants that make me wish I had money and space in my pack, and a sizable portion of the city center is closed to most car traffic. There are parks and playgrounds and all sorts of things, and so far all the people I have met are nice. So yeah, if you're moving to Emilia-Romagna, look for real estate in Modena.
Today's adventure was an excursion to the Ferrari Museum in nearby Maralleno. For €10 adults €6 for students, I wouldn't really recommend it, but since I was already there I made the most of it and took a ton of pictures of sexy machines and their various components. I also ended up circumnavigating their factory complex before actually finding the museum. Hooray for Italy's inadequate signage and pervasive but haphazard public transportation. Tomorrow I'll spend the day in Bologna and then after a third night in Modena I move on to Umbria. I won't say where in Umbria because I have learned my lesson about counting my chickens and hostels and all that. As a final note, in case you were wondering, the Mormons have missionaries in Italy too. I ran into a couple of clean shaven young white bread boys from Utah on the train from Bologna to Modena. After an interesting discussion on the theological debates I had witnessed between some of my Mormon and Protestant friends and explaining that I already had a Book of Mormon stashed away at home somewhere, I got off at my stop and sent them on their way to Milan. |
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| Eternal City? |
[Sep. 17th, 2004|09:19 pm] |
I suppose they call it the Eternal City because it's inconcievable that there was a time when it wasn't crowded. I took a panorama of the Piazza containing the Trevi Fountain this afternoon; half of it was fountain and half of it was people - none of it was ground. But my coins were duly deposited and I'm sure I will be back eventually - if the city is Eternal, it's not going anywhere.
And it certainly hasn't gone anywhere for the last two and a half thousand years. This morning after a brief stop at San Pietro in Vincoli (which contains the chains that supposedly bound Peter during his stay in prison here), we went to the Colosseum, the Palatine Hill, and the Roman Forum. The Colosseum was much as I remember it: a big pile of rocks in the shape of a stadium. I know it's impressive because it was such a massive construction project for the time and because of the aspects of Roman culture that it exemplifies, but I just can manage to get excited. The postcards are so much more impressive. The Palatine Hill was better. Comprised mainly of the ruins of the Imperial places built by the various emperors, the Palatine is mainly just that: ruins. But they are very impressive ruins and there is also a nice little museum with some of the statues and frescoes that used to decorate the palaces. The forum is more impressive still, just because it used to be a thriving city center up until about fifteen hundred years ago or so. You can still get a sense of residual bustling in the air there.
After that was the Fontana di Trevi, as I said, and then the Pantheon. So far, the Pantheon is my favorite part of Rome (but only if you don't count the Vatican as part of Rome). It's big, but well proportioned, decorated, but not gaudy, and very old, but still in good condition. It was crowded, just like everywhere else, but part of that was because they were doing restorations and about half the floor area was fenced off. You know, it's funny, last time I was in Italy I was disappointed because they had scaffolding over the facade of Saint Peter's, but this time there has been scaffolding over virtually every major edifice we've visited except for Saint Peter's. Oh well.
The only other highlights of the day inlcuded the church of San Carlo delle Quattro Fontane, designed by Borromini - a contemporary and competitor of the more famous Bernini. The other highlight was also a church (of course), this time Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri. Probably designed by Michelangelo, only the ceiling remains true to his original use of the space. But the space itself is impressive. The church was built in the ruins of the old Roman baths, which was the only classical building in the city to survive undemolished and unmodified up to the Rennaissance. I liked both of these churches because of the way they shaped the space inside. The church of San Carlo has an oval nave with a dome featuring complex coffering designed to make it look taller than it really is. Actually the whole church is designed to look larger than it really is. And it does that very well. Santa Maria di etc. still looks a lot like ruins on exterior, almost modern in the way it preserves the original intent and look and feel of the Roman baths.
Anyway, suggestions for visiting Rome:
-bring your own umbrella, or at least a coat. I had to put on my coat every time it started raining today just to keep the roving umbrella sellers off my back. This happened several times.
-get a map. Unlike Venice, it will actually help you find your way here, and it really is necessary if you don't know the city well and can't easily ask for directions.
-get a good guidebook. There is too much history and information and 'important cultural knowledge' (and trivia) that you will completely miss because it is not obvious at all and there are virtually no informational signs anywhere.
-work fast. There is a lot to see and you probably won't want to spend more than two or three days here if you can help it - and only that if at least a day of it is in the Vatican.
The mention of the rain reminded me of an interesting incident this afternoon. As Jeff and I were leaving Piazza Navona and the Fountain of the Four Rivers (oh, yeah, we saw that too) we took a wrong turn and ended up in one of only three places in the city outside cat swinging distance of a church just as the heavens were opened and God made us wet. Luckily, even in the few places in the city more than spitting distance from literal Sanctuary, there are Roman ruins, and so we stood in an archway that is probably older than some geological strata in North America. That didn't quite suffice, so we moved on around the corner and found an overhanging niche full of tumbled rocks to take shelter in. Only in order to stay out of splash range (and to be out of the way of the other two people that were initially sharing our shelter) we had to climb up on the rocks. So there we were, perched six or eight feet off the ground with our backpacks and jackets hanging from or propped on small ledges, watching the tour buses splash through the small rivers running through the gutters. They also watched us. I think they were more entertained than we were, but not by much.
After the biggest meal I've eaten in months, I bought my train ticket for Naples. Now I just need to reserve a hostel and I'll be ready to get out of Rome. I've enjoyed it, but I won't miss it. |
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| Expats and adjusting to life in Italy |
[Sep. 16th, 2004|09:43 pm] |
For our last day in the Tuscany area, Jeff and I signed up for a winery tour in the Chianti region south of Florence (on the way to Arezzo). Our guide for the day was an American named Todd who had lived in the Bay Area until about two years ago when he moved to Italy with his girlfriend to be closer to her family. He was an excellent guide, and in addition he filled many additional roles at the Tuscan Trails touring company - namely the answering service, the van driver, the liason with local winery staff, and the t-shirt shop. Having studied extensively both in Northern California and Tuscany, he was very knowledgeable about all aspects of winemaking and selling, and apparently he is about halfway to being a licensed somelier. The wines were excellent, the lunch was the best meal we have had since coming to Europe, and our fellow tour takers were good company for the day. If you're ever in the area and you would like to learn more about Italian wines, look up Tuscan Trails. I may post the number later if I can find the card.
Today was the Eurostar train to Rome and an afternoon at the Vatican. There was no line at the Vatican Museums, so we walked right in and worked our way through the majority of the popular exhibits. And yes we saw the Sistine Chapel. After we got out of there we walked around to Saint Peter's and I got to see my most favorite work of art in the world for the second time. I've written somewhere before about the reaction that you have when you walk into that space and it slowly sinks in just how big it actually is. Because the proportions of everything are so large, it looks almost normal sized, but when you look down to the far end of the nave and see how tiny the people down there are, you realize that this is the largest indoor space you have ever been in (outside of a domed stadium). But you forget all of that as soon as you turn your head to the right and see Michelangelo's Pieta. After Jeff flies home, I think I'll go back and spend some time just looking at it. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about; if you haven't seen it, you ought to - I still get chills every time I do.
After we left the Vatican, we took the Metro back across the Tiber to the Piazza di Spagna and the Spanish Steps. There were a lot of people there. But there were far more people on the Roman Metro. We traveled on it twice today, once at about 12:30 and once at about 4:00, so I'm pretty sure that the crowds weren't due to the time of day. I've seen crowds like that before, but they're usually part of a 'how many college students can you fit in a phone booth' competition. It's like an underground railroad made up of clown cars. Oh, and all the cars are covered with graffiti. Pictures of that will follow at some point after Jeff gets home. Our hostel here is very crowded - like the rest of Rome, and very loud - like the rest of Rome, and very old - unlike the rest of Rome, which is ancient. Tomorrow should be a little more low key - less museums and less armed guards (just because those Swiss guys in the funny pants are carrying spears instead of guns doesn't mean they won't take you out if they feel it's necessary). I plan to throw my coin in the Trevi Fountain to ensure the I come back to Rome - if only so that I'll be in Italy and can then make my way to Florence or Venice (or Naples or elsewhere, but I can't say that yet since I haven't been to those places yet). |
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| Priceless works of art vs. priced works of art |
[Sep. 14th, 2004|08:48 pm] |
The name of this post really has very little to do with what we did today. It's only a reference to the bookstore that never ends - also known as the way out of the Uffizzi Galleries. Not including the four, count 'em, four different rooms where you can buy books on the various Florentine art galleries and reproductions of the Birth of Venus on everything from mouse pads to pencils, there are no less than three other rooms selling original works of art by contemporary Florentine artists. Not that I don't support local arts or even surrounding yourself with consumable beauty, it's just that having seven rooms in series - with a short corridor between each to make you think you're about to get out - a little much.
Other highlights for today were La Chiesa della Santa Croce, Il Palazzo Pitti, Piazzale Michelangelo, Vivoli Gelato, and a huge thunderstorm. I was informed that Hurricane Ivan was headed towards the Florida panhandle, but apparently I was misled - it is here.
The Uffizzi is the most famous gallery in Florence. One of the most famous in the world - probably top 5 at least. Now I remember why. About all I remember last time was the Boticelli room and several of the portraits by Tintoretto and Titian, but that place is packed with priceless works of art - and I mean priceless by my standards. It also takes three hours to walk through at a reasonable pace, so by the time we got out, we were ready for some lunch and even more ready for some more gelato. I don't remember lunch, but afterwards we went to what is supposedly the best gelato place in Florence - called Vivoli. I haven't had gelato at every place in Florence, but it was certainly the best I've ever had.
You would think that having spent over an hour waiting to get into a museum and three hours viewing it and another half hour walking around afterwards, we would be ready for a rest. You would be right. But instead, we went to the Basilica della Santa Croce. It is beautiful. Parts are currently being restored, but seeing the tombs of Michelangelo, Galileo, and Machiavelli in one room is impressive. I think people tend to forget how much Italians have contributed to science and history. There was also a small museum of sculptures and frescoes from a side chapel that is under restoration and a larger museum of woodcuts and lithographs done by a (relatively) contemporary Italian artist.
Continuing the marathon day of Florence highlights we went to the Pitti Palace. Somewhat ironically named in English, it was built by the Pitti family to demonstrate their dominance over the rival Medici family. The fact that you have probably heard of the Medicis and not the Pittis should tell you how this turned out. In fact, the Pittis spent so much on their ostentatious new home that they went bankrupt and had to sell out for pennies on the florin, so to speak. And who cleaned up at the fire sale? That's right, our friends the Medici, who proceeded to move in and make themselves at home for the next few hundred years. Most of the decorations and furnishings have been redone since the Medici moved out, but all with stuff that they own - whatever was lying around in the attic, I suppose. You too could live like that for a few million per room in your house. You'd need a bigger house, though. Much bigger.
We left the Pitti Palace even more tired and footsore and having taken in only about a quarter of what we saw inside and walked back to our hostel. Yes, they are on opposite sides of town, for those of you keeping score at home. After a small adventure buying train tickets on the Eurostar to get to Rome on Thursday (or Giovedi for those of you Italian biglietteria workers not conversant with the days of the week in English), we finally broke down and took a bus to our next destination. This turned out to be worth it in more ways than one because not only did we get to sit down for twenty or thirty minutes, but we got to see a lot of Florence outside the historical center that we probably never would have seen otherwise. The bus took us to Piazzale Michelangelo where we took pictures of Florence from enough distance and elevation to get some perspective on how far we had actually walked that day. We also took pictures of Japanese, American, and German tourists (with their cameras) and they took pictures of us (mostly with our cameras).
At this point the thunderstorm started rolling in on the far side of the city, so we started down from the high ground in case the lightning decided to head our way. It started bucketing down before we got halfway back to our hostel, but we stopped for pizza and listened to U2 at the Spleen Cafe (don't ask, I don't know). We made a break for it during a lull and arrived back in our room still somewhat dry. Reservations were made for a winery tour tomorrow and beds were booked at a hostel in Rome for Thursday and Friday. Rehydration also occured. Hopefully nothing else worth noting will happen tonight and so I can finish this marathon post right here. |
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| Being a tourist |
[Sep. 13th, 2004|08:57 pm] |
Due to the fact that Americans outnumber locals in Cinque Terre about 10 to one on any given day and the tower in Pisa and the Duomo in Florence are probably the top tourist destinations in all of Italy, I humbly present the top 10 ways to be a tourist in Italy:
10. Carry a camera. This is basic. Then take pictures of doorways because they are green and churches because they are there. Be sure to block foot traffic when you do this.
9. Speak a few words of Italian, but totally fail to match the gender and number of the article and the noun of whatever you are talking about.
8. Wear less clothing than usual, but still more than the Italians. Under no circumstances should you wear a speedo.
7. Run into an American friend of a friend on the street and talk about the person you know in common. Block traffic when you do this.
6. Complain that restaurants don't have water for free. Drink only wine in protest.
5. After you exit any building, look around aimlessly for a minute or two, even if you know where you are going next. Block traffic.
4. Continually have to remind yourself that jaywalking is not a crime in Italy because there are no traffic laws, only suggestions. You 'may' cross the street only if you 'can' cross the street.
3. Realize how visually impoverished your country is because the only public art you have consists of modern sculptures made entirely out of featureless metal geometric shapes.
2. Have a friend take a picture of you holding up (or pushing down) the leaning tower of Pisa.
1. Play the 'who else here is American' game while sitting on a monument in a piazza. Giveaways include backpacks by Nike, Jansport, or North Face, guys wearing flip-flops, t-shirts from any American university, and of course, that distinctive accent.
Cinque terre is recommended if you want to meet authentic Americans in authentic rustic Italian settings. Also if you like absolutely incredible views of the Ligurian Sea washing against coastal cliffs that put northern California to shame and some great hiking in the mountains above the towns. Pisa is recommended if you are not ashamed to be a tourist or if you like embalmed corpses of saints. Florence is always recommended. Yes, it's full of tourists, too, but it's such a great city that it's hard to care too much. Florence tries very hard to make everyone comfortable, and generally succeeds admirably. Go to the top of the Duomo, unless you have bad knees or a heart condition this is a must. Aside from that, everything I've seen today, I saw the last time I was here. But tomorrow, I'm going to see Michelangelo's David and the Pitti Palace for the first time and also revisit the Uffizi Gallery. Oh, and I had octopus for dinner today. At least I think that's what it was. I ordered something 'alle Fiorentine' and it came out tasting slightly fishy and looking suspiciously like tentacles. Pretty tasty, but from now on, I'll stick to more normal cuisine. |
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| Cities that start with 'V' |
[Sep. 11th, 2004|10:06 am] |
Before I go on to Venice, I should add the Imperial War Museum to places to visit in London. We also saw Trafalgar Square (for all you Caedmon's fans I'll get a postcard on the return), the Tower, the British Library, and Temple Church. All awesome, but IWM was the best. HUGE! We were there for quite a while and saw less than ten percent. That may hve been because I got lost in the basement a couple of times.
I had a moment of panic when we arrived in Treviso and I couldn't understand a word anyone was saying, but I'm doing better now. And I've decided that I could easily live in Venice. I could be there for years and still have alleyways and churches to explore. It is absolutely beautiful in its own decayed and sometimes maddening way. And my technique of holistic navigation works like a charm there.
The Palazzo that we stayed at was great. The people who run it were very nice and helpful and the room had a great view of part of the city. The ballroom on the second floor was spectacular also. I highly recommend it if you are ever in town. They had a party in the garden for the Spanish contingent to an architecture symposium that is going on this week. As we were leaving, they were setting up for a party for the British and then one for the Americans.
I saw the Basilica di San Marco for the first time today (I didn't want to stand in line the last time I was here) including the tomb of Mark himself under the altar. We took a tour of the Doge's Palace and took a ferry to San Giorgio Maggiore and saw the cathedral there as well. The view from the campanile there is amazing. Oh, and I got approached by another American because of my 'Kerry/Edwards' button on my backpack. She was from Chicago on her way to study in Belgium and spending a few days in Venice on the way. She hadn't talked to anyone who spoke English in about a week - she had been staying with her distant relations in Sicily.
After that, we took another ferry to Murano and saw the glass museum. Let me tell you, if you thought you knew all the things that you can do with glass, you are wrong. Murano is a nice, quiet little island. Not crowded and insane like Venice, just a straightforward little village with a lot of glass shops and some fishermen. The only other highlight before arriving in Vernazzo was that I made a friend on the train. An actual real live Venetian named Elena who was on her way to Nice to visit her boyfriend. Her English was better than my Italian, so that's what we spoke. We had a good time comparing thoughts on American and Italian cultures, languages, politics, and various other things on the way from Venice to Milan. Then we fell asleep until we arrived in Genoa and Jeff and I had to change trains. But it was nice to pass the time getting a better picture of how Europeans see Americans and vice versa. OK, now we are off to see our room here in Vernazza. Our host is named Gianni and he assures us that it is huge and has everything. I can't seem to doubt him on a morning like this. |
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| London etc. |
[Sep. 9th, 2004|09:11 am] |
I highly recommend the evensong service at Westminster Abbey. Particularly if you go on a day when the choir is singing. The acoustics are great, even if the melodies are not what you're used to. And they have actual English choirboys! I also recommend the Imperial War Museum. Four floors and approximately nine hundred thousand rooms of war stuff. In about forty five minutes Jeff and I saw less than ten percent of it, though that could be because I got lost twice in the basement. And both of these attractions are free. Booyah. (You have to pay to go in Westminster if it's not during services.
And for those of you who have never been to London, it is the most expensive city I have every been to. Everything looks reasonable until you realize that it's in pounds and you have to multiply by 1.8 or so. All you can eat lunch buffet - £5,95! Oh, wait, that's $11.00.
However the highlight of London - aside from all the British people and their accents - is the Underground. I think we ended up spending about as much time on the underground as we did doing everything else combined, which was tight. It's the perfect setting for a city-wide game of capture the flag. Epic. Today is Venice. Tonight we stay in a Palazzo - circa 14th century I think. And today I get to eat my first real Italian food. |
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| pensees |
[Sep. 4th, 2004|11:24 am] |
Some reflections arising from the "Fruits of the Spirit" talks at Sanctuary and discussion at Cornerstone this summer:
-Any action following God's plans will succeed, not in the absence of difficulties, but despite them.
-The reason we are impatient is because we were created to crave wholeness. We hunger for completeness, but because we live our lives sequentially in time, they are necessarily incomplete. We rush through as if we are reading a mystery novel for the first time and want to find out who done it, but in our haste we skip over clues that point towards the answer. This is why I divide all movies into two categories: the ones that get better every time you watch them, and the ones that don't. I believe that every human life makes sense only in it's entirety, and when viewed as a whole - from beginning to end, as God sees it - is more beautiful than we can know from our perspective.
-The fruits of the spirit are products of grace. Given the definition of fruits of the spirit as the manifestation of God's character in us as we draw closer to Him, it makes sense that we could only gain God's character through the sole means we have of understanding Him. His grace is the only thing that bridges the gap between Him and us, so it is only across that bridge that we can recieve love, joy, peace, and all the rest. So to paraphrase Dan Gannon, "To learn patience, study grace."
-I wonder if gentleness is something that I haven't thought much about because I have seen so much of it in my family and grew up with it to such an extent that I understand it intrinsically? My understanding of patience has come through long years of self-analysis and observation of the world beginning in middle school, and so it is a very intellectual understanding - and I think much more clear because of it. But when I think about gentleness, I think of a lot of my relatives - not of a definition or underlying causes or anything like that - just what my grandmother is like. I could probably sit down and come up with all the intellectual properties if I took the time, but I have a functional understanding of it without ever having done that.
-We treat sin as something that keeps us from receiving God's blessings, but it is more properly something that keeps those around us from being blessed through us. God sends the rain on the righteous and the unrighteous alike, but only the righteous man is a blessing in turn to those near him.
-Are we born into sin, or are we born capable of sinning? I say the latter. Capability of sin results from the knowledge of good and evil - Genesis 3. And this knowledge is not instinctivec, but is received just like knowledge of death or the alphabet - it is learned as a child grows up. The ultimate fault is Adam and Eve's for introducing this knowledge into the world - information is real in its own right, and its transmission follows its own laws - but each individual, at some point in his life, comes to a knowledge that he can do what is right or not, and chooses. So far, our cumulative track record of all those choices is not stellar.
-We all have paradigms for understanding God. Some are more accurate than others. But God as a trinity has three aspects which are each unique, so you could really have three paradigms for God and maybe a better understanding of His character. I tried to nail down the simplest and most theologically sound representations I could for each aspect of the trinity, and the results surprised me a little. God the Father is, obviously, a father. This is pretty straightforward. The Holy Spirit however, I decided is most like a coach. That is, someone with knowledge of the game who can watch everything going on around you and help you to follow the rules, improve your performance, make sure the other team plays fair, and cheer you on. What surprised me about this, was that given these two roles, the Holy Spirit is really much more demanding than the Father. Even a dad as demanding as mine can sometimes be is still much more loving and understanding than, say, my wrestling coach from high school. I went through several ideas for Christ, and I was surprised to end up on the idea of a Paladin. I had a hard time with this because there are several concepts tied up here together. First there is the idea of the hero. This is pretty clear - just watch any John Wayne movie. He fights and (sometimes) dies in defence of the weak and in support of righteousness - and perhaps more importantly, the story always revolves around him. Second is the idea of purity and dedication to a transcendant cause or authority. This bit is a little more obscure, but the closest well known parallel is one of King Arthur's knights. Finally is the idea of a lord - in the medieval sense of the word - an anointed ruler by birthright. I thought it was interesting that the paradigm for Christ was the most complicated and specific, but then I realized it made sense because He's a man - with all the complexity and specificity that implies.
I probably had some other interesting thoughts at times, but these are the ones that I made notes on. And so, having the short term memory of a large carrot, these are the ones that I can write about now. If I'm on the ball, there will probably be a lot more material coming soon - likely limited only by my energy level and the availability of internet cafes in whatever part of Italy I happen to be in at the time. But I'll try to take plenty of notes so that even if I'm exhausted and there is no net access, I can tell you all about it when I get back. Say a prayer for me to have a safe trip, my plane leaves in forty-six and a half hours. |
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