Pictures - Milano

Lenore, me, and Christen, in front of the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele.

Vicky and I, in front of the Duomo.

I've always wanted to be an Egyptian...

Castello Sforzesco at night.

Lenore and Christen metro it up.

McDonalds... :)

One last hug goodbye before Lenore and Christen go back to Austria.

Milano

What happens when three americans and one spanish girl travel to Milano together? Linguistic gynmnastics, that's what. Using whatever combination of English, Spanish, and if you can believe it, French amongst ourselves, and Italian with the rest of the world, we headed off to see as much as we could of the city known for music, art, and fashion in only twenty-four hours.

The first thing we discovered was that our hostel no longer had room for us and had to send us to the three-star hotel a few streets down. Life is tough, I know. The second thing we discovered was that our hotel was really, really far away from the actual city. No problem, because Milano has an excellent subway system.

We first hit up the Duomo, which I think might be the tallest building inside I've ever seen. Very gothic, the vibrant and slender stained glass windows gleaming in the late afternoon sun among the soaring gray stone. Unfortunately, we couldn't stay long because they were closing for the afternoon, so we consoled ourselves by walking along the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, one of the most famous shopping streets in the world. It is a covered shopping area connecting the Piazza del Duomo with the Piazza della Scala. There you can find your Prada, Armani, and all their friends, but at the very center of the Galleria, I found a gem: the nicest McDonald's I've ever seen. It's gotta keep up with the Joneses, after all.

After window-shopping, we headed to La Scala, and were able to get into a box and see the opera house first-hand, then we checked out the museum. The only problem with the museum was that it was filled with German schoolchildren who had no interest in opera and clogged all the walkways. Some problems are just universal, I suppose.

After La Scala, we strolled through the Brera region of the city, and had a cappuccino before continuing our walking tour. We found the city gardens and the giant Castello Sforzesco which doubles as an art museum. On our way looking for dinner, we found an outdoor food market that was still open, even at eight o'clock at night! We couldn't miss the opportunity, and tried some sicilian pastries, ruining our dinner, but, hey, we're in college, right?!

Saturday morning we went to the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, the oldest art museum in Milano. There we saw some Leonardo da Vinci sketches and his "Musico," Rafaello's sketch of "The School at Athens," and the gloves Napoleon wore at the Battle of Waterloo, among other things, of course.

We had only a short amount of time before we needed to head back to the train station (a side note: the Milano train station is beautiful, especially for a train station). We ate lunch at the ritzy McDonalds in the Galleria. I told Vicky it was ok that we were eating McDonalds because we were "with americans." Then I remembered my own nationality, and corrected the statement and hid in my Big Mac.

Milano is a lovely city, and I very much enjoyed being there. The interesting thing we found about it was that it doesn't send out a very italian vibe. It's more like a little bit of the rest of Europe in Italy. In fact, it reminded each of us of a different city, Paris, Barcelona, Vienna. I felt like I got a very good look at the city, and I've decided that I will only return if I become enormously wealthy, to be able to enjoy the other side of the music, art, and fashion. But I never found those Milano cookies, sorry, Mom.

Signed, the Sengenblogger

Pictures of P's

Our indoor picnic: Anne, Erin, and Alex.

Danielle and Lillo hiding behind Rodolfo, Clara, and I.

At La Traviatta with the girls! Lenore, Christen, me, Sarah, and Katie.

Christen, me, Lenore, and Katie outside the restaurant.

Roommates and pancakes. Ania, me, and Vicky.

Christen and I in the library, enjoying the cool chairs.

Christen, me, Lenore, and Katie outside of San Francesco.

Pancakes, Picnics, and Pajamas

Pancakes
My roommates have been requesting that I make pancakes for a while. So, the other Thursday, I fulfilled their wishes. After buying the most expensive bottle of maple syrup of my terrestial existence (imported all the way from Vermont), I woke them up with "American Breakfast." They were enchanted, and began taking pictures right away. They especially like the Mickey Mouse pancake, and I found out there's an italian version of the "Mickey Mouse Song."

We had also decided to speak only in English, which meant I told stories, very slowly, with lots of hand motions and footnote translations. As it was only fitting, I instructed Vicky, Serena, and Ania in the grand folklore tradition of America: Paul Bunyan and Johnny Appleseed. Then somehow we ended up talking about McDonalds... Just a note, Vicky's a nutrition major. I went from "I'm proud to be an American" to "Can we change the subject please?"

Nevertheless, they very much enjoyed pancakes, although they all swore they wouldn't be able to eat anything else for the rest of the day. And quickly Facebook statuses were changed to announce the news, and jealous italian friends stared at posted pictures longingly.

Picnic
The weather here in Bologna has been pretty great up till now: mostly sunny, mostly warm, mostly beautiful. That is, until we decided to have a picnic. As Murphy's Law would have it, it started raining as soon as we all met at the bus stop. Not to be discouraged, and also because we still wanted to eat, we moved the festivites inside the BCSP office, at which point the sun came out. But I had already drawn a sunshine on board, so the real thing was just redundancy. Bread, meat, cheese, fruit, but the greatest things of all were the italian-style brownies (only slighty more solid than pudding) and the prosecco with lemon gelato. But soccer will have to wait for another time...

Pajamas
It's every girl's dream to have a three-day sleepover with her best friends, and this past week I was lucky enough to be able to host one. Katie, Christen, and Lenore, along with new friend Sarah, crashed into Bologna on Tuesday night. Katie and Lenore went to class with me the next day, we all took walks around Bologna, we ate gelato and cookies and crepes, went out to dinner in my new favorite bolognese restaurant, got haircuts, watched movies, and most of all chatted about all things girly. Another fantastic thing we did was explore some of the churches in Bologna: San Domenico, San Francesco, and San Stefano.

San Domenico is airy and bright, with richly decorated side chapels, one for Our Lady of the Rosary, and the other housing the tomb of St. Dominic. We probed into every open door we could find, and even gained access to the interior courtyard of the convent. I noticed that while the interior of San Domenico was very white, which seemed to mimic the dominican habit, and the interior of San Franceso, of somber browns, reminded us of the Franciscan habit. San Francesco is very open. It seems a little more simple than San Domenico, but not less elegant or beautiful.

San Stefano is composed of seven different buildings, all connected to religious activity dating from Roman times, when it began as a temple. Now it is a Catholic church, and a really neat one, at that. All the girls and I wandered through, winding from room to room, building to building, seeing the oldest parts, the parts still in use, the parts in the dark, the parts outside, The museum, gift shop, and church. A unique feature of the church is that the entire altar area is raised about (and I'm terrible about quantifying distances) fifteen feet above the congregation. you can then go under the raised area to find another small chapel. Another great thing about San Stefano? It's right down the street from one of the best gelato places in town: Sette Chiese. Of course we stopped. Praying makes you hungry, you know.

We went to daily Mass at the church right around the corner, Santa Maria, and after the first evening, Padre Lorenzo came up to us afterwards. He was impressed that we all sang, and commented on how bright and joyful we seemed, how willing we were to share our voices. Italians, on the other hand, stop singing because they feel someone else might be better than them, he explained. The next evening, after Mass, Padre Lorenzo introduced us to his friend, who also happens to be an opera singer. Of course, we asked him to sing for us, and Sarah produced amazing piano skills to accompany him in "Some Enchanted Evening." Fabulous. Then Lenore finished the concert with an a cappella version of "Ave Maria." A wonderful evening, to be sure.

Sometimes it's hard to be a tourist in the city you live in, so I took advantage of the awesome company I had and saw Bologna with fresh and eager eyes.

Signed,
the Sengenblogger

Schooldays and Birthdays

This semester I will be taking philosophy in Italian. No, I'm not crazy, but I may be by the end of it.

Italian professors come late to class, anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour. Then they stroll in and start teaching right away, sometimes without any point of reference, no book, no notes. All the students take notes, and rarely ask questions. (Except in my literature class, there's this guy that sits in the far right side and kind of hums during class. Any time you happen to look over at him, you find him staring at you. And he interupts the professor with strange and incomprehensible questions.) It's very important, when dealing with Italian profs, to remember that they are omnipotent and omniscient. So, basically, it's very easy to get along with them.

After returning from New York last Monday, my wonderful friends decided to come over and cook dinner to celebrate my birthday. It was wonderful, but rather squished. Everyone tried to be in the kitchen at the same time, with the excess trailing into the hallway. Really, what am I supposed to do with thirteen people? Serena, awesome roommate that she is, baked me a cake. We ate on Ania and my bedroom floor, it being the largest continuous space in the apartment.

A new game: How many people can we fit into the kitchen?

Me and Serena, and the beautiful cake saying "20 Auguri."

Group photo! Alex, Michelle, Serena, Allegra, Erin, me, Anne,

Robert, Clara, Rodolfo, Vicky, and Alessandra.

Our fabulous chefs: Robert and Rodolfo.

Pictures - Urbino, Firenze

Clara and I as the BCSP Poster girls.
Me, Alex, and Rodolfo at Buca delle Campane.

Il Palazzo Ducale at Urbino. Notice the symmetry.

Italy.

Anna, Allegra, Erin, Clara, Professoressa Clara, me, Sky, Alex, and Meghan in Urbino.

Urbino was filled with narrow, steep streets and surprising views.

And we found a park! (Allergra and Erin swinging.)

Looking down on the courtyard of Raphael's childhood home, on Michelle, Sky, Allegra, Alex, and Erin.

Much of the city is contained within fortified walls.

Good morning, Florence! View from the Ponte Vecchio.

The Duomo.

Can't pass up a photo op with Pegasus.

Michael and I in the Giardino Boboli, with all of Florence behind us.

More of the garden.

Florence.

Florence.

Michael, contemplating the glory of the Ponte Vecchio,

or wondering if the Arno is too dirty to swim in.

Epic Post (Michelle's Birthday, Urbino, Firenze)

Ok, guys, I got a lot to catch up on, and it might go on for a while. Are you in? Cause I am.

Michelle's Birthday
A few weeks ago we went out for Michelle's birthday. We went to this great osteria called Buca delle Campane, which, according to the place mat, has had quite a history. For example, Guglielmo Marconi, inventor of the radio, lived upstairs for a while. The restaurant felt rather like a cave, with vaulted ceilings of brick and no windows. There was also a live musician. The food was good, the atmosphere was good, the company was fantastic. There were two other birthdays in addition to Michelle's and the pianist made a special musical musical tribute to them, as well as the bride-to-be in the other corner of the room. Overall, a very eventful night in the osteria!

Urbino
The other weekend (Sept. 26th) we took a field trip to Urbino with the BCSP group. Because the town is small and far away from Bologna, we rented a bus. A double-decker bus. Too much space for twenty people? Yes, probably, but it was great sitting up top at the front, then you got a great view of all the idyllic buildings that the bus missed hitting by six inches as we went careening through the towns.

Urbino was a very important city during the Renaissance in Italy, which is why we went there, i suppose. But in actuality, I'm not sure that the trip wasn't centered around the fantastic lunch we had there. Anyway, we saw lots of the Palazzo Ducale, which was large enough to contain a small city inside (and indeed at one time it did). It was covered in marble and filled with art. The wooden walls of the study of Federico III da Montefeltro were covered top to bottom in intricate and exquisite carvings of people, places, and... things (so basically nouns, ok?). Urbino is also known as the birthplace of Raffaello Sanzio (the painter). We got the opportunity to walk through his childhome, which was great, but I wouldn't describe it as a particularly inspiring experience.

What was inspiring was the lunch. First, they brought out baskets of bread. I foolishly started to nibble one, not guessing what would come next. Garlic bread, and then meat ravioli covered in grated cheese. Then we got platters of pork shanks, and my adventurous friend Alessandra salvaged the bone marrow from one of them. For dessert, lemon cake and espresso.

Firenze
The next day, Sunday, I decided to ignore the fact that I had two exams the next day and went to Florence. Why? To surprise Michael, of course! I had it planned perfectly. I secretly ascertained the whereabouts of their hostel and showed up at 9:00AM, breakfast in hand. Unfortunately, Michael and his friends had already left the hostel, but I found them eventually at the Duomo. Which is beautiful, at least from the outside (I didn't get to go inside...next time!). There was a large race in Florence that day, for some sort of chartity, and while watching the hundreds of runners/walkers go by in their orange t-shirts, I found that it was quite easy to pick out all the Americans. (There are a lot of American students who study in Florence.)

Michael, his friends, and I waited outside of the Accademia Art Museum for about an hour and a half (but hey, admission was free). Then we blitzed through it, pausing just long enough for Sabian to take an illegal of Michelangelo's Davide. I think he's selling copies for 5 euro a piece. Then those guys left for Rome and Michael and I strolled about the city. We got great gelato, though. This little place on the way to the Boboli Garden makes homemade gelato of the most interesting flavors. I had chocolate mousse and cheesecake, Michael had the mousse and blueberry muffin. The astounding thing was, the flavors tasted exactly like we were eating the real thing. I just can't decide if that's because they did a great job making the gelato, or if it's because it wasn't actually gelato, but refrigerated chocolate mousse, mashed-up cheesecake, and creamed muffin. The world will never know, because they'll be too busy enjoying eating it.

The Boboli Gardens are beautiful. It's situated on a hill a little south of the city and affords a stupendous panoramic of Florence, as good, according to Michael, as the view you get from the bell tower near the Duomo.

I liked Florence. The streets, although filled with people of all different sorts, were wide enough to accomodate the traffic. On a whole, the city had a very light and sunny appearance, which could be from the weather or from the buildings. In any case, it makes it a very pleasant place to be, and I look forward to returing later this year.

That's all for now, folks. I'll be back soon.

Signed, the Sengenblogger

Announcement

The writers, editors, and producers of "The Bologna Blog" apologize for the absence of new posts lately due to a death in the family. They will be working overtime this week to keep you up-to-date on Maria's life. Thank you.