Guten Tag Munich!

DAYS 11 & 12 : SPRECHEN SIE ENGLISH? – MUNICH, GERMANY

Happy Easter! The first day in Munich was amazing. The train ride between Austria and Munich was incredible. Traveling along the line of the mountains and zipping quickly between the trees above and below us made the trip intriguing. On board, we played cards, however also used the time to sleep as the last ten days were very busy. As I sat in silence, I listened to the snores coming from behind me and watching the heads of many move side to side as the train swayed in the wind.

It was late morning when we arrived in Munich. The German language, although intriguing, was extremely complicated. We made our way from the train station and rolled our luggage to the hostile nearby. I noticed the wide streets; about four lanes wide on each side. The flow of traffic made it very easy to cross, however in spurts, as fifty is a massive group. When we got to the hostile, named Wombats, I was already impressed and excited to see the room. The exterior was beautiful, but not fancy beautiful, it was teenage beautiful. The lime green, yellow and peach orange colors that covered the murals outside of the Wombat’s hostile made me realize that this was a very youth-friendly place to stay.

After dropping off our luggage, we had time to sit down, unpack and rest before leaving for Dachau. I ran to the room so that I could have the bottom bunk near the window; we were placed six per room. The colorful tiled floor and the bright rooms reminded me of a school, however a rad, fun school. I opened the massive windows and let the air fly through the room. It was surprisingly cooler in Germany than anywhere else we had been in Europe. I peeked my head out the window and noticed another large group lining at the next-door hostile. I wondered where they were from.

Later that afternoon, we walked towards the tramway station, which is where we took the “underground” all the way to the Dachau Concentration Camp. The minute we entered, my stomach began to turn. The trees had just finished blooming and the sound of the peaceful birds chirping was the only thing which could be here; visitors hardly spoke. The sombre visit began when I went through the gates, officially entering Dachau. The gate was lined with iron and at the top said Arbeit macht frei, which means “work will set you free”. As we made our way to the houses, my heart continued to drop. It was devastating to think that 30,000 people had been shot to death, worked to death or gazed to death on the very soil that I walked on. There was a wise man I once spoke to, named Berek Ajzenberg, a holocaust survivor who attended Dachau for a limited amount of time. As I slowly, attentively made my way through the camp, I thought of him, I thought of his story. I swallowed my saliva slowly, embracing the feeling of being at a real concentration camp. I went inside one of the dwellings; one of the two that was left standing. I walked through the barracks, the kitchen, the fountains and the empty wood rooms. Nobody spoke, the only thing heard was the creeks coming from beneath my feet when I moved further along the wooden planks. After exiting, I took a deep breath and kept Berek in my mind, thinking of his survival story. I walked along the perimeter of the camp, which is where the guard towers and electrical fences stood tall and wide. It was devastating to know that people, just like me, people who could’ve probably made an amazingly positive impact in this god forsaken world were probably shot along the very wall I touched with my bear hands; my heart sank. By the end of the tour, we entered the most shocking and soul wrenching part of all, the Crematorium Dachau, which consisted of the large ovens and gas chambers. When I passed through the gas chambers, under the holes where the very gas came out, my palms sweat and my face dropped, was it really possible that one twisted man could do this, and nobody would stop him! Upon my departure from the camp, I looked back once more at the sign at the top of the gate and thought to myself “bullshit!” It’s not that I was mad, however when I left, my feeling of sympathy was much more complicated than others. Berek was such a wonderful, innovative and intuitive man and how could a human being, or a group of twisted human beings, stand by and kill (by the thousand), other bright, smart and loving people – it disgusted me. Despite my heart dropping feelings, the experience was a one in a lifetime chance, and this was the one!

For dinner, we went to the Hofbrauhaus, which was where we had one of the biggest meals of the entire trip. We sat in a massive hall, with lines of tables that extended from the entrance to the furthest wall. There was a German band with typical German instruments playing on a large wood stage in the center of the hall. The beat, although not familiar, was actually very catchy and contagious. The hardy wood tables were fun to sit on, they resembled oversized picnic tables. Later that night we learned that this place was actually where Hitler organized his first SS meeting; this made me refrain from eating any longer. After finishing our meal, we were all dismissed and were able to have free time around the town before curfew. As there was hardly any time do to anything and it was Easter, the streets were fairly quiet. The sound of the police car echoed in the night and as the clouds rolled in, we made our way back to the hostile by tram for curfew.

The next morning was surprisingly a late one. We were able to sleep in as there wasn’t much planned for the morning. However, because it was my birthday, I wasn’t really able to sleep in; I didn’t mind at all to be honest. The first knock on my door was at around 6:30 am and it was some friends, coming to wish me a happy birthday, it made my day to know that people honestly and sincerely cared and was willing to get up early in the morning to simply wish me a happy birthday. That morning I got a lot of hugs and birthday wishes, along with the painful birthday beats that practically put a hole in my left arm. After getting all dressed up, my friends and I made our way to a museum of engineering. Different exhibits, such as space, airplanes, agriculture and science were portrayed well, however I found it kind of boring; if only there would have been more “hands on” material.

Later in the day, after eating an amazing lunch at a nearby German restaurant, which was paid for by my best friends, the group met up and prepared for a four hour walking tour. This seemed long, however it went by pretty quickly, considering we had an excellent tour guide. His name was Ausie and had curly black hair. He brought us around town and made us realize the importance of certain monuments. The tour itself was long; however his voice that projected across the group and practically across the town is what made the visit interesting. One thing that I loved was the Glokenspeil. It was said to ring every seven years; it’s unfortunate that it didn’t ring while we were there. It was beautiful as it was long, wide and was made up of such small, detailed parts, making this clock tower, as a whole, extremely attractive. Walking by several parks and streets was amusing because we got to be in both a city and nature setting, one quality about Munich that I loved. When walking through the parks, the smell of daisies and certain distinct flowers flew with the air, soaring across the open field. The rivers and streams flow gently down towards the great lake and the little Gelato vendors on bikes rode along the dirt path – it was a cute setting.

Later, when the tour was over, we had our last supper of Europe, the Bavarian meal. It was nice to have Happy Birthday sung for me by a large number of people at this massive restaurant, however it was also depressing to know that this was the end – it was the end of the trip and we were about to be off on our way home. The meal itself wasn’t half bad. There were some distinct smells and tastes that were “too strong” for me, however the pork knuckle, which sounds disgusting, simply tasted of overcooked chicken, it was quite tasteful actually. For dessert, came a large crepe with blueberries and whipped cream, all homemade. The warm blueberry sauce lit the whole room with a scent of nature and the way it remained in my mouth made me think of camping, when I used to eat the berries right off the bush – they even tasted fresh. When dinner was complete, we were brought back to the hotel for the final touches of packing. Of course, as I had time beforehand, I was wise enough to have done my packing earlier, so that I could really enjoy my last night in Germany. Unlike many people, I stayed in the hostile and played some board games with my closest friends. We laughed, smiled, told jokes and reminisced about the great two weeks we had in Europe, until our bums got sore from sitting on the cold, humid ground, which is when we said goodnight.

After I did the final check, I was good to go. I sat in my bed and took my fully recharged camera, scanning through all the pictures I had taken during the trip. Although I didn’t cry, I did get emotional, knowing that the two best weeks of my life, spent with some of my closest friends, was now, soon, going to come to an end. I feel asleep that night, pretty early, after remembering all the good laughs we had.

The next morning there wasn’t much chaos. We slowly but surely brought down the luggage and made our way to the coach bus, about to bring us to the airport. As we passed the buildings in Germany, my eyes watered. It was at this point that I knew the trip was officially over. It felt like yesterday that I was climbing down the Eiffel tower, overlooking the Patisseries and persistent street vendors. It felt like yesterday that I was walking on the beach, in my bear feet and overlooking the sun upon the sea horizon. It felt like yesterday we made our way to the Mercato and bargained with the small, but loud vendors. It felt like yesterday we entered a piece of ancient history and touched the stone that was once touched a thousand years ago. It felt like yesterday I looked at my reflection in the waters of Venice while taking a ride on the long, black gondola, swaying back and forth. It felt like yesterday that I went 2.5 thousand feet into the air and enjoyed the wind race threw my hair with some of my closest friends. It felt like yesterday I stood where brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers were shot and gazed to death by a disgraceful people. It felt like yesterday we became a family, all of us friends, together on this Europe trip. Although today is not yesterday, the memories of yesterday will never be forgotten. Europe 2011, memories that will last a lifetime!

Guten Tag Innsbruck!

DAY 10: WHERE NOTHING SLEEPS – INNSBRUCK, AUSTRIA

We made sure to arrive in Austria early in the morning to make the most of our day, after all, we would only be there for one day. I was never to keen on making our way to Innsbruck as being in an isolated area in the middle of Austria didn’t seem very interesting. After thanking the Italian bus driver, that was the last we heard of any Italian for the rest of the trip, we were now in the land of the German language...Guten Tag!

Dropping the bags off at our first four and a half star hotel was exciting. We finally got large, spacious rooms that were suitable for the three of us. Of course, the other hotels we had previously stayed in weren’t half bad, however I did prefer this one. Instead of dispersing ourselves, the entire group was on its way to the Alps as we had booked tickets to go up. The walk was quite long; however I did truly enjoy walking around this city.

The beauty of this town made me breathless. When I looked around, each and every building had its own, distinct and unique color. The bright yellow ones were my favorite, they just made the atmosphere that much more joyful. As it was the Saturday before Easter, the city was preparing for the big celebration. The shops were closed and only the food market was open, probably making a gargantuan amount of profits, after all, Easter was a holiday where lunch with the family is common. The decorations that reigned over the town made it look like the Easter Bunny had passed and left his mark. Large, colorful eggs, each with their own design stood in the center of the town square. The streams that extended from one side of the street to another blew gently in the wind; twisting and turning about. The churches sounded their bells that echoed between the short buildings.

We had made our way to the Innsbruck tramway and it was this sophisticated system that would bring us up to the gondolas. When it arrived, the gates lowered, a beep sounded and the doors opened. This underground had not a speck of graffiti, I could literally eat off the floor; as a matter of fact, even the smell of flowers that stormed through the metro was delightful. We made it up to the top and it was now time to take the gondola. As I was afraid of heights, I tried to stick to the back of the oversized box. It wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be, however the thought of being thousands of feet in the air was still overwhelming. When we got to the ¾ mark of the mountain, everyone de-boarded. Slowly, I made may way across the paved road and onto the mountain. As we were high, practically above the clouds, the air was ice cold. It was as if summer had instantly ended and winter was slowly drawing in. I was in shorts-not to wise of me. I stood at the cliff, overhanging the entire city of Innsbruck and looking out at the different colors enveloping the city; it resembled a large, colourful Christmas gift, it was beautiful! Believe it or not, there was even snow on the mountain. Some of us had a snowball fight; it felt good to get away from the 35 degrees heat and be hit in the face with an ice cold snow ball that dripped water down my shirt.

As the pictures were taken and people began to get cold, many of them left. Instead, my friends and I stayed. We admired the scenery and embraced the tall mountains in the distance. I took large breaths of cool air and stared up at the large birds soaring in the massive gusts of winds under the sun, hidden behind the mountains. What we decided to do is use our pass to go to the tip of the mountain. Although I was afraid, when would I get another chance to go to the tip of an Austrian Alp? The answer to this question is what got me up there. The second gondola had seats and after about ten minutes or so, we were finally 2.5 thousand feet in the air. It seemed like I could touch the clouds floating nearby! The wind became stronger, it was as if I could catch it in my hand. We overlooked the beautiful city as the wind raced through my gel-filled hair. It was now hard to see much, as we were so high, however we sat for a little on the ice cold, watery rocks. They were cold, however as smooth as the pebbles along the shores of Nice. The sight was incredible; I tried to taste, feel and see as much as I could before returning back down.

Later that day we walked around a little more before ending the day. Walking in the square was interesting as I had noticed most stores were uniquely Austrian.  The only open store was the famous Arka Austrian Chocolate store. And guess who went inside it? Yes, I spent about twenty minutes simply looking at the diversity of chocolates they had. From peanut butter filled, to peanut coated to white wine chocolate, this store literally had some of the most amazing types of chocolate. I bought a few treats, however there was one I was eager to eat, so I savagely opened the pack and drove my teeth into the center. The first instance gave off a hard bitter taste, however the more I bit, the more I was intrigued. This double chocolate, chocolate bar melted in my mouth and it was as if it flowed through my entire body...it was sensational. This dessert could not be classified with the simple “mmm” or “that was amazing” , oh no, the words to describe this treat would be succulent, indulging, exquisite, and many other fabulous words. That chocolate was literally the best chocolate I had ever tasted in the seventeen years I have been alive.

Walking back to the hotel, the sunlight faded and from behind the white mountains rose the papery white moon. It light up the entire sky as if a large white spot light was placed onto the tip of the mountain. The dark casted a shadow upon my face and it was at this point I knew it was time to return. The wind picked up and the occasional leaf and paper cup flew in circles off the ground. The streets became quiet and it was now that everything stood still to sleep. When we made our way back to the hotel, we all looked back to the mountains lit by her majesty, the moon. It was unreal to think we were 2.5 thousand feet above the ground that day. Austria was simply remarkable and from the joyful, colorful atmosphere, to the nature setting in the surrounding perimeter, this city may be in the middle of nowhere, but to me, it’s one the most incredible settings I have ever been in.

Buongiorno Venezia!

DAYS 8 & 9: GO WITH THE FLOW – VENICE, ITALY

The sound of flowing water and motor boats could be heard from where we stood when we got off the bus; it was at this point I knew we were now in Venice. Usually, we always walked to our hotel, dragging the overweight luggage along with us, however there was something different this time; there were bridges to cross. The amount of people that were crossing up and down the several bridges, connecting the 108 islands of Venice was overwhelming, however, they were curious enough to let us pass, as they saw we were sweating and struggling like a turkey on thanksgiving. Once to our hotel, after slightly breaking the wheel on my luggage, I realized one thing; a suitcase isn’t convenient when travelling to Venice, after all, there are literally no cars.

As it was a warm, late afternoon when we arrived in the city of water, there wasn’t much planned. So, we were guided to the Piazza San Marco, right near the Ponte Rialto and were given free time. The vendors and stores that extended all along the Piazza was incredible. Of course, it wasn’t as big as Florence’s Mercato, however it was comparable. The prices, once again, great, so we decided to stick around for a little to bargain with the old Italian merchants. The variety of items was great because it was here where I got most of the gifts that I would bring back home.

Walking along the islands was not only unique, however had a completely different feel. It was the first time in my life that I walked along a sidewalk and instead of a street was a canal. It was the first time that everyone owned a boat instead of a car and it was the first time that I saw children going to school on the boat bus instead of the city bus – it was just astounding. One thing I realized, however, was that it was very easy to get lost in Venice. Because of little alleys that interconnect with others, it felt like we were walking in a maze. To avoid getting lost, we stuck to the main sidewalks, along the Ponte Rialto. This bridge, filled with vendors of all sorts was beautiful. It was built uniquely, with lovely designs and white marble, oh it was so much more than people made it out to be. I stood at the edge on the top of the bridge and looked as far as I could see down the large canal. I watched the boats swerve around each other and make ripples in the water. I watched the boat buses stop at the strategically placed boat stops, picking up and dropping off a throng of passengers. I watched the glowing gondolas sway back and forth in the water under the sun and I watched the people, the large amount of people walk along each side of the canal, some locals, but most tourists, all admiring and appreciating this unique city of water. Many rumours say that the water in Venice smells horribly and is fifthly, however that is an exaggeration. Obviously, there is a smell of fish and diesel that can be lightly smelled because of the constant flow of motor boats; however the city itself doesn’t smell disgusting as the bad smells are hidden behind the aroma of freshly baked Italian goods.

After walking around for a little longer and fighting our way through the croud of people walking in both directions, we met up with the rest of our school’s group and went for supper at a popular Italian restaurant. We had a choice between lasagna and pasta, so I took the lasagna, making sure I savour every bit of the warm, freshly produced Italian foods. After supper, we walked back as the sun set. It was already hard enough to navigate around Venice in plain daylight, I couldn’t imagine trying to find my way at night – tip: always have a map on you, especially in Venice. Before the sun set upon the horizons, I stood at the edge of the canal, protected by a railing and gazed into the water. It wasn’t that dirty, just a little polluted. People passed, however as our hotel was a good twenty minutes away from the action, it wasn’t as busy as before. I stared at the boat taxi that floated by and admired these Venetian boat driving skills, especially in the narrow canals. I looked down at the corroding bottoms of the homes and I was still amazed at how a city could be built over water. While the street, or, excuse me, I should say, canal lights flickered on and off, I decided to go into the hotel and rest up for tomorrow. Because of the uniqueness of the city and the atmosphere it gave off, Venice was now my favourite city so far.

The next day in Venice was an early morning. The boats were all well on their way and the Italians were already speaking loud and clear. We went for a short walking tour around the city, touching several areas. First, we went to the food market. This was the main place where the locals, including all the restaurants bought the food for the day. Every morning a large boat, filled with produce would sail in and deliver the food, I was shocked. There are no such things as Maxi’s, Metro’s and Wal-Mart’s, however this one Mercato where all the fresh, daily produce is sailed in. In addition, we went back to Piazza San Marco and were left there for free time.

After meeting up with my group of friends, we walked around the Piazza and sat down on the edge of the water, absorbing as much sun as we could. I took off my “I love Italia” sweatshirt that covered me from the cold air and tried as much has possible to tan under the, oh so bright sun. I gazed far and wide, looking a few meters off the shore. The occasional boat bus that passed blocked the sun for a half of a second, which was the only shade I would get for the hour. The ground was hot and so instead of laying down, I sat up and let my feet dingle above the water while ease dropping on the nearby Italian conversations. The Piazza was jam packed with people, all walking in circles.

Later that day, we met up with the group and were surprised with a gondola ride. We divided ourselves in groups of six and boarded the flimsy boat. I always thought the gondolier was supposed to sing some nice, gentle Italian music...I guess not! The beginning of the ride was astonishing as we passed through the narrow, dark canals. We passed under the tight bridges as the tourists waved hello. Once we gained speed, there was no stopping us, this gondolier was simply amazing, he could even dodge motor boats! As time passed, the gondola made itself in the wide canal, the widest one in all of Venice. The waves from the ACTV boat buses knocked us back and forth, swaying the boat from left to right. We passed beautiful buildings that were unfortunately corroding at the bottom because of the water. The small guppy fish that stuck beside the gondola swam in an orderly fashion, all in a single file line. As we passed other boats, we too, waved; after all, we wanted to show that us Canadians are a very humble people. The smell of the polluted water inundated my nostrils; however I had gotten use to it, being in Venice for two days.

The evening came quickly and unfortunately this meant that our time in Venice was almost up. Before going onto the boat bus back to the hotel, my friends and I celebrated Italy with a nice bowl of homemade Gelato. I stared once more at the large canal and knew that this was my favorite place. From the noisy boats that roared their way along, to the distinct Venice smell, to the humble and welcoming people, it was truly a world wonder.

Buongiorno Roma!

DAYS 6 & 7: THE ETERNAL CITY – ROME, ITALY

          After a long bus ride from Florence to Rome, we had finally arrived in the Eternal City. The ride was once again very scenic, unlike the ones in Canada where all you see is yellow grass and cattle. The bus rides in Europe are actually very exciting with all the cliffs, bridges, tunnels, small towns and a diverse selection of nature. As it was evening when we arrived in Rome, we had no time to spare, the well being of peoples stomachs were at hand.

On our way to a very popular Italian restaurant, we were able to begin admiring this city filled with history and beauty. Unlike the two last cities we had been, everything was massive here. The number of cars that horded the narrow streets was ridiculous. We passed several little shops, all once again closed in the evening. Since the group was running late, we decided to take the city bus to reduce time. When the bright red bus pulled up and the doors open, we waited for the signal and hopped on, one at a time. Of course, being fifty we took up half of the space, but that was the fun part. As more people boarded, the space became more limited and by the time we were about to get off, we were so close together that the warm breath of others slithered along my neck. To keep my mind off the heat and overwhelming amount of people, I simply looked out the large tinted windows at the massive, gorgeous monuments that not only had value, however such stories behind them. I also looked out at the people; at the old Italian men eating a Panini on the public benches and at the nurturing Italian mothers, who were constantly keeping eye on their little children in the carriage.

When we got to the restaurant, the places were all perfectly set up, as usual. Our first dish consisted of a typical “antipasto”, bread with tomato and olive oil, delicious! Of course, it was bad for the heart; however my taste buds simply went wild. When the pizza came out, that’s when everyone’s stomach was probably jumping for joy. The eyes of many widened and I could see the envy in the eyes of the pedestrians, staring at the large pizza in front of me. Once again, the meal was amazing. From the first crunchy bite, to the soft center filled with fresh Italian cheeses and toppings, this pizza warmed me on the inside and out, as if the sun were piercing my body with its rays.

Later that evening, we walked over to the Trevi Fountain, one of the most popular hot spots in all of Italy. Upon our arrival, we all went to eat some ice cream, called Gelato, at the nearby Gelateria.

There was an abundance of flavors, some colorful, some chunky and others just plain delicious, it was hard to pick only one. From the little uniquely shaped cup that the store gave to the colorful miniature spoons to the flavor of Ferrero Rocher gelato, that was a 3₤ well spent. When we had arrived, we all made our way through the large crowds hovering around the edge of the Trevi Fountain. I made way for a picture and then simply backed off to admire this work of art. Now, what people need to understand is that the Trevi fountain is not just a random mere of sculpture, however so much more. Just the presence of this work of art gives off an extra hint of amazing atmosphere to the city of Rome. The sound of gushing water can be heard for miles and gets much louder as you near the centerpiece. When the wind blows hard enough, splashes of water float up in the air and can even sometimes is felt. I approached the edge and placed my hand in, what a delight. Many may say it’s just water, which it is, however the feel of touching sacred Roman water is just breathtaking and fun to know. As sun now receded and the black sky rolled in, I threw my last coin into the water and made my ultimate wish, hoping it would someday come true. As soon as I heard my coin splash into the water and fall to the white, detailed concrete surface beneath the layer of water, I ran to catch up with my group to make it back t our hotel.

The city, at night, is very different from Florence; it is much more active. Although night-time fell, people were still eating diner, walking together as families along the Via Caesarini and continuing to admire what Rome had to offer. Like usual, the Gelaterias were oh so packed, with lines extending along the side of other buildings. The laughs and joyful atmosphere lifted my spirit and although I was quite tired because of a long day the contagious joy of others put me in better, happier spirits. 

The next morning was an early one as we were off to the Vatican. Everyone was drowsy and tired since they probably hardly got any sleep, that’s what it’s like rooming with friends, but I got a great one. After taking my shower in the lightly small, but manageable shower of the room, I was well awake and ready to embrace Rome in the sunlight.

We took the metro a few stops to Fermata San Pietro, which is where Vatican City was located. The underground metro’s in Rome are actually one of the most sophisticated systems I have ever seen. The newly furnished inside seemed to be well maintained and even had electronic screens, something I wasn’t used to. The amount of people was once again, the only problem. Being able to talk Italian, I had an advantage over everyone else, even the Italians, as I could ease drop on their conversations without them knowing I understand the lovely and unique language. On our way to the Vatican Museum, we past several little shops, bakeries and Italian tailors, however we had no time to go inside.

The Vatican wall could be seen from miles away, however, what really distinguished it from anything else, was the extensive line of people that surrounded it, waiting to enter the city. To be completely honest, the line was so long and filled with families that I didn’t know where it ended. Luckily, as we were a big group and reserved in advance, we had a reserved entrance. The jealousy and desire of others to be in our spot was easily shown by their facial expressions, shocked to see a group of fifty enter before them. When we entered, we went through a little bit of security and we were on our way to the museum. As we had limited time, I only visited the important sections, such as the famous monuments and the Sistine Chapel, which was truly amazing. When I first entered the Chapel I was tempted to take a picture, although it was a little dark. So, I took out the camera and before pressing the flash button, I was startled by a loud Italian security guard yelling “No Photo!”, so I resisted and put my camera back into my pocket. The beauty of the chapel was not the walls, however the meaning that went with them. When I stared up, the bright pure gold glowing with the light, the famous painting of David and God touching fingers and the magnificent colors and materials used all made this chapel one of the most amazing ones I had ever seen. The flow of people kept the Chapel a little more quiet, however there was that occasional laugh or two by people simply trying to have a good time. The statues were also quite striking. Every time I went near one I was tempted to touch the rough-looking surface, however didn’t. There was a distinct smell in the Vatican museum; it resembled candles and a type of smoke usually only used at Easter, making the museum that much more distinct and memorable.

After taking a long look at some of the famous sculptures, the time in the museum was up and we had just been informed of disappointing news; the San Pietro Basilica had been closed for a reserved mass, therefore, we would not be able to go. The fact that we were so close to seeing the famous Vatican and possibly even seeing the pope was unreal, and so being told me couldn’t go was a real let down. Instead of going to the Vatican, we were given a half hour to walk around, eat lunch and meet back at the square in time for a guided tour of Rome.

After fighting through the crowds of the Vatican and being up on our feet the entire time, we were hungry and ready to eat lunch. Nearby, we saw several people going into a small, narrow, however bright alley way, so, we decided to follow them, most likely locals, and see if they would lead us to somewhere interesting. I can’t really recall the name of the Calle, however it was lined with many small, home-runned lunch restaurants with a varied menu. Guess what I ordered? Lasagna. This was the first time I had lasagne in Europe and it was one of the best meals I had so far. The melted cheese that stringed around my fork when I pulled a piece away from the dish made the lasagna much more appetizing. I sat on the curb of the alley and people watched, like usual. I watched the people walk by, some in a hurry and others, not so much. Many of them had sometime of food in their hand, but who could resist; we were in one of the food capitals of the world.

Later that day we went to the Colosseo. I must admit, the line was, again, filled with tourists from across the world, coming to enjoy and admire this piece of history. Some people in the group looked like they were ready to bail for a cappuccino at the local coffee shop, however I didn’t mind embracing the line to step foot into a monument that was standing for thousands of years. Upon our entry, we went to the second floor. There wasn’t much of a flow, however just clumps of people that we had to dodge when walking. Getting to the top was the exciting part because, although I’m no history buff, I did recognize that this was thousands of years old. I went to the edge and took some pictures, overlooking the inside of the coliseum. To think, there were fights with gladiators and lions upon the very surface that I walked on – I got goosebumps and shivers just thinking about it. Of course, after surviving seven earthquakes, this monument was pretty destroyed, however the thought of walking where a king and queen stood, the thought of sitting where peasants sat, the thought of looking at the same view as people thousands of years ago did, I was just in amazement. Before leaving I took a few last pictures, walked around once more and gazed at the tip of the structure that glowed under the lukewarm sun, thinking to myself.

On our free time, after another great Italian meal, my friends and I decided to take the time and visit some places that we hadn’t stopped such as the location where Julius Caesar got assassinated. What amazed me is the fact that these things were still standing. To think that where poor old Julius Caesar shed blood was the place where I stood, it’s simply unreal. The amount of people that surrounded the area was also unreal, as it was a moment to cherish; one day I’m reading about Caesar in class and the next I’m standing in the very spot where he yelled, shed blood and died. In addition to this, we made our way to Piazza Venezia, where one tall, white and jaw opening monument dominates the view: the Monumento Vitorio Emanuele II. From a distance we simply sat on the moist and humid grass and admired the large, palace-looking monument. While sitting, my friends and I spoke about our love for Italy, especially Rome, and that is when I realized that traveling is on my to-do list. Seeing and appreciating the wonders of the world standing tall in the distance is not only a privilege but a passion, and let me admit, that I loved it. Watching the tiny, ant-like people climb up the hundred stairs to the top of the monument and gazing at the Italian flags blowing swiftly in the tepid Italian air, I’ve realized that traveling is not only seeing, but traveling is caring.

That night, we all made our way slowly back to the hotel, appreciating the nightlife of the city once more. It was hard to see anything at night; however the city does keep everything very well lit. From watching the cars go round and round in the Piazza’s to the smell of tomato pizza floating in the moving air current, this city holds some of the oldest and greatest treasures, which is why it is known as the Eternal City. 

Buongiorno Firenze!

DAY 5: A QUAINT ESCAPE – FLORENCE, ITALY

It was a late afternoon when we had entered the perimeters of Florence. Nice to Florence was a beautiful ride as we past in between several small towns, all with their own distinct features. Although we would not be in Florence for very long, I really wanted to get as much done. As we quickly passed the traffic in the streets, I admired all the old buildings, however one thing shocked me, there was a lot of graffiti. It’s unfortunate as the red, blue and green tags only the walls of buildings ruined the sentimental and historical value of them. We were let off the bus in a small square, named Piazza Del Duomo and needed to make our way, once again, with our luggage to the hotel.

Unlike Nice, this city was crammed with a heap of people walking in every direction. On the sidewalks, the swarm of people walked to the left, as we, with our large luggage, strolled along on the right. When there was a large group that we needed to pass, I yelled “permeso!”, which essentially means, can I pass?, in Italian. It was a Monday afternoon and the restaurants were hoppin’ and boppin’! The little “tratoria’s” at the corner of every street had lines of people that extended along the sidewalk, waiting to buy their fresh pizza and Panini’s. The language was also astonishing. Although I knew Italian fluently, the dialect and beauty of the language really shined when it was all I heard. From the quaint little homes that lined the streets to the smell of fresh bread being made in the wood burning ovens, Florence was a quaint little getaway from the bigger, more modern towns of Italy.

There weren’t many cars in this town, which didn’t surprise me, as it is quite small, most things could be accessed by foot or bus. As we continued to take our little “luggage walk”, I could see that there was plenty of haze that mystified the surrounding parks and streets, which must have meant that it had rained prior to our arrival. We passed church after church and let me say, that they were each very beautiful. One of them, named the Church of Santa Croce, was covered in pink marble along with beautiful detail, outlining Florence’s history. The dome at the back of the church stood tall and sturdy, under the Italian sun that shined a spot light onto this stunning piece of history. It was evident that people gathered far and wide to come visit and if it wasn’t for the line of tourists, eagerly waiting to enter the large doors, I too, would’ve entered.

Later that day, after proceeding to the hotel, we ate a wonderful meal, which included a dish of pasta primavera and some chicken. The pasta could not compare to the ones we have in Montreal. The sauce itself tasted scrumptiously fresh; as if tomatoes were blended, spiced and served- it was wonderful. I savoured each and every piece of pasta as it steamed from the dish. The parmesan cheese melted instantly after I lightly sprinkled it over the red vegetable sauce. As I took my last bite, I made sure to, once more, eat it and let the flavours explode in my mouth, oh, I can still taste the red sauce, the pepper and the carrots. I made sure to wipe the dish down with the piece of Panini that the restaurant provided. I let the soft, warm, indulgent and homemade bread flow right threw me. While pieces of this bread fell into the crevices on my teeth, I couldn’t resist – my tongue ferociously grabbed all that remained, savouring the remains of the delicious meal. When the waiter came to pick up my dish his eyes widened as most of the dishes were spotless, as if they had been washed already; that’s how good it was. As we left, we all said “grazie”.

Later on that evening, we had to go walk around for about an hour before curfew. I was paranoid as there were not many people out and darkness had just flown in on top of the sunny sky. The lights flickered and the wind became cold, as if I had just been dipped into a tub of ice cubes. I walked along the main boulevard where not much was open, only a few liquor stores and the local pharmacies. It was hard to see and admire the beautiful attractions this city had to offer at night, however I managed. I passed a few restaurants with the candle-lit terraces where the smell of freshly baked lasagna reigned over the flat land and the occasional open bakery; however the streets were pretty quiet at night. The rare car that passed hardly made any noise and the people that passed were usually alone or in groups of two; the only thing that could be heard was the wind, penetrating against the windows of the “piccoli” shops.

The next morning, before leaving for Rome, we had a chance to go to the Mercato Centrale. This was one place that really impressed me, and made Florence worth visiting. This large market extended for several long streets and had hundreds of vendors with their little booths and underpriced merchandise. As I walked along the market, I noticed purses, jewellery, scarves, and souvenirs, practically everything one can think of, for cheap prices. The smell of Caprese sandwiches (which consists of tomato and mozzarella) ran through the streets and made my stomach growl as loud as a wolf’s cry. The little, short Italian merchants who smelled of wine and cheese were very persistent, however that was the fun of being at the market: the atmosphere. From the smell of the fresh cheese being fermented to the yelling in Italian, to the smiles on everyone’s faces, to the taste of the gelato that was newly prepared, the market is an amazing experience that I would pry anyone to go to. On our way back, we walked along the Ponte Vecchio (which means old bridge) lined with small jewellery stores,. I couldn’t afford anything there, however just the sight of the water that stood still and reflected the clouds above was exquisite. From here, I stared down the river until the boats became black does in the distance, I stared at the colourful pink, red and white buildings, I stared at the excessive amount of pigeons flying around down near the Mercato area, I stared at the tall bell tower that sounded once every hour and finally, I stared at the people, the Italians, enjoying themselves in this quaint little getaway – if only I had had the time to see more of it!