Will and I spent the weekend at his folks' house in Umbria where there are sunflowers in bloom everywhere. And the grape vines are starting to sprout actual grapes-- they still feel hard as rocks, but they're on their way.
As we were walking down to check out the vineyard, I took a little spill in my flip-flops (not exactly the best footgear for dirt road walking-- someday I will figure that out). As I was dusting myself off and limping up to the house, all turned right again with the world when I noticed a fig tree in full bloom. Even a skinned knee can't bring you down when you're eating figs fresh from the tree!
Now, back in Rome, it's hot as h-e-double hockey sticks, so we're packing it up and going on vacation. I know we're already on vacation, I guess, but this is like a travelling vacation!
We're not going just because it's hot. It seems that all of Italy and gigantic chucks of Europe all take off for some large part of late-July through August. I'd say they're on to something...
August will take us on a road trip through Tuscany and Umbria, hopefully finding some out-of-the-way vineyards and such to visit. Then a couple of friends of ours are going to be in the South of France at the end of August, so we're going to take a trip there. But I don't think they have fig trees, so how good can it really be?
So this little blog will be out of commission for a short while. But it will return with all kinds of photos of grapes and sunshine and stuff.
See you in September!
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
New York, Only Ladylike
I would like to personally thank the French for Paris.
It was my first visit to France, and although there were a handful of downsides (a socialist country does not make it easy to hail a cab, to be explained in detail later), I adjusted to Paris like a fish to a Meuniere sauce (pardon the culinary pun, it's the only French I spoke). Our friend Jon Evans, who lived in Paris for a blissful spell a few years ago, was a godsend pseudo-tourguide, meeting us at random metro stops and linguistically maneuvering us through some sticky situations with a prickly (read: snooty) watiress.
I think he summed it up best when he likend Paris to New York as the more feminine version of our fair New York City. I wholeheartedly agree.
The city looks and feels like a girly teenage girl's bedroom (you can see heavy Parisian infuence even in the American suburbs even if you're not BFF with a 14 year old-- just stroll by an Anthropologie store in any old mall and see frills and "Shabby Chic" galore), but it's got a serious city vibe (and Metro) like Manhattan.
Paris is abound with art and restaurants and people speaking French. The girls wear dresses and the men, although not nearly as painstakingly groomed as Roman men, are well put-together in suits or expensive pastel shirts. The main passtimes seem to be picnics, chatting, occasional outbursts of musical theater and choreographed fireworks.
Can it get more girly than that?
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Another Hiatus
Friends, family, people who have inadvertently stumbled across this blog and are a millisecond from clicking goodbye:
I won't have any posts for the next few days as Will and I are off to Paris. I know, it's a tough life, blah blah blah.
I wonder what's safer for us at this point: do we even mention that we've been hanging out in Italy (what, with the World Cup wounds not yet healed...) or just roll in as plain old American tourists? Do you think they've forgotten that whole ridiculous "freedom fries" embarassment?
I'm really just going for the picnic, anyway...
I won't have any posts for the next few days as Will and I are off to Paris. I know, it's a tough life, blah blah blah.
I wonder what's safer for us at this point: do we even mention that we've been hanging out in Italy (what, with the World Cup wounds not yet healed...) or just roll in as plain old American tourists? Do you think they've forgotten that whole ridiculous "freedom fries" embarassment?
I'm really just going for the picnic, anyway...
300,000 of Our Closest Friends
Will managed to get some great photos of the masses at Circo Massimo the other night.
It's over 48 hours after the victory. I think the cheering has finally come to a calm. Although I did hear someone still humming that bassline at the beach today. Word on the street is that tear gas was employed to get people to go home. Italians know from how to celebrate.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Forza Italia!!!
In case you, like an unfortunate many Americans, haven't been following the World Cup for the past few weeks, you can at least keep up with a little water cooler conversation knowing that as of last night, Italy is the 2006 World Champion.
Will and I, along with our friend Ashley who is visiting from New York, watched the game at Circo Massimo with about 300,000 of our closest Roman pals. It was insane. I've been to places with large groups of people: a few Lollapaloozas (a music festival with probably around 15-20000 people), one Buring Man with 30,000 and the Anti-War March in London in 2002 with 2 Million people in the streets, but never before have I seen this many people gather. To watch television.
There were three projection screens set up: 2x25' and 1x50' and people came to Rome from all over the country. We came from the other side of town on the most crowded metro car ever. It was filled with fans, young and old, in various red-white-and-green get-ups including face paint and wigs. Also, you couldn't swing a dead cat without whacking someone in an Azzuri (the Italian team's blue) shirt. On the metro platform at Termini, the crowd started chanting a tune that we assumed was the lead-in to a national anthem or war ditty. Only later did we realize that their battlecry was the insidious baseline to the White Stripes Seven Nation Army.
Just before the end of the game, we climbed the hill to face the crowd-- we were itching to see what that many people looked like all smooshed together (amazing). Not realizing that there were like three penalty kicks for Italy to take before the end of the match, we thought Italy had won when the crowd erupted the first time. Literally thousands of Italian flags waved, big and small, in every direction.
But when the last point was finally scored and the win was official, the crowd exploded into absolute madness. Flags, fireworks (directly above the crowd, no less) and cameras went off, people cheered, they cried, I even saw one tough guy sprint uphill, high-five his friend and then give him a kiss on each cheek before he took to the streets on his moto to wave his flag and beep his horn with everyone else. Literally everyone.
We walked home among the throngs of exuberant Italians, cheering and screaming and tooting and flag-waving as if they themselves had scored the winning goal. I felt a little reserved, actually, which is not a familiar feeling in my world. But even without a flag, it was incredibly exciting to be in the company of champions.
As one shirtless painted man exclaimed to me with a boatfull of giddy in his eyes, "campioni del mundo!!"
We drank a bottle of Spumante in celebration and I finally went to bed around 130am with horns still beeping and people still cheering. A few people in the building next to us were so ingenious as to take the lids to their pots and pans and take to the streets like a marching band! Middle-aged adults! For hours!
Now as I write this over 24 hours later, horns are still beeping and flags are still waving and that damned bassline just won't let go of it's place in my head. Surprisingly, it hasn't gotten old. Yet.
I wonder what they're doing in Paris...
Will and I, along with our friend Ashley who is visiting from New York, watched the game at Circo Massimo with about 300,000 of our closest Roman pals. It was insane. I've been to places with large groups of people: a few Lollapaloozas (a music festival with probably around 15-20000 people), one Buring Man with 30,000 and the Anti-War March in London in 2002 with 2 Million people in the streets, but never before have I seen this many people gather. To watch television.
There were three projection screens set up: 2x25' and 1x50' and people came to Rome from all over the country. We came from the other side of town on the most crowded metro car ever. It was filled with fans, young and old, in various red-white-and-green get-ups including face paint and wigs. Also, you couldn't swing a dead cat without whacking someone in an Azzuri (the Italian team's blue) shirt. On the metro platform at Termini, the crowd started chanting a tune that we assumed was the lead-in to a national anthem or war ditty. Only later did we realize that their battlecry was the insidious baseline to the White Stripes Seven Nation Army.
Just before the end of the game, we climbed the hill to face the crowd-- we were itching to see what that many people looked like all smooshed together (amazing). Not realizing that there were like three penalty kicks for Italy to take before the end of the match, we thought Italy had won when the crowd erupted the first time. Literally thousands of Italian flags waved, big and small, in every direction.
But when the last point was finally scored and the win was official, the crowd exploded into absolute madness. Flags, fireworks (directly above the crowd, no less) and cameras went off, people cheered, they cried, I even saw one tough guy sprint uphill, high-five his friend and then give him a kiss on each cheek before he took to the streets on his moto to wave his flag and beep his horn with everyone else. Literally everyone.
We walked home among the throngs of exuberant Italians, cheering and screaming and tooting and flag-waving as if they themselves had scored the winning goal. I felt a little reserved, actually, which is not a familiar feeling in my world. But even without a flag, it was incredibly exciting to be in the company of champions.
As one shirtless painted man exclaimed to me with a boatfull of giddy in his eyes, "campioni del mundo!!"
We drank a bottle of Spumante in celebration and I finally went to bed around 130am with horns still beeping and people still cheering. A few people in the building next to us were so ingenious as to take the lids to their pots and pans and take to the streets like a marching band! Middle-aged adults! For hours!
Now as I write this over 24 hours later, horns are still beeping and flags are still waving and that damned bassline just won't let go of it's place in my head. Surprisingly, it hasn't gotten old. Yet.
I wonder what they're doing in Paris...
Friday, July 7, 2006
We're Back!
Sorry I've been MIA, but we were stricken with a little case of a travel bug/scheduling commitments, and magically our travels kept leading us to places senza internet.
The week before last, spent a little over a week in Umbria with Will's mom. It was hot as the bejezus, but beautiful. We visited the little Medieval Fortress town of Perugia which sits practically vertically on top of a hill. We also rode out to Pitigliano, also a fortress-looking town (the Italians liked to build their towns on a hill-- there's a detailed explanation, I'm sure, but I'll just call it paranoia for now) for a walk through the Etruscan tombs. Really cool.
Then we travelled back to New York for my friend Mark's wedding, where we danced all night to the song stylings of a 12-piece Funk Band. There were also surprise fireworks and surprise wedding crashers and a big bottle of Dom Perignon to round out the night. But seriously, if you've never seen a 12-piece Funk Band do Havah Nagilah, you just haven't lived.
Our time in New York was quick and sleepless-- after daily naps in Rome, Will and I were out of practice for the likes of Manhattan... but we made it, and managed to see more people than we expected, including a bunch of people at the Brick when we went to see the latest Bizarre Science Fantasy. We then spent the 4th of July at the lake trying desperately to catch up on sleep.
We're now back in Rome, exhausted, but just in time for World Cup finals. With Italy having just beat Germany in double overtime, we're definitely back right on time for all the action! Sunday should be insane!
The week before last, spent a little over a week in Umbria with Will's mom. It was hot as the bejezus, but beautiful. We visited the little Medieval Fortress town of Perugia which sits practically vertically on top of a hill. We also rode out to Pitigliano, also a fortress-looking town (the Italians liked to build their towns on a hill-- there's a detailed explanation, I'm sure, but I'll just call it paranoia for now) for a walk through the Etruscan tombs. Really cool.
Then we travelled back to New York for my friend Mark's wedding, where we danced all night to the song stylings of a 12-piece Funk Band. There were also surprise fireworks and surprise wedding crashers and a big bottle of Dom Perignon to round out the night. But seriously, if you've never seen a 12-piece Funk Band do Havah Nagilah, you just haven't lived.
Our time in New York was quick and sleepless-- after daily naps in Rome, Will and I were out of practice for the likes of Manhattan... but we made it, and managed to see more people than we expected, including a bunch of people at the Brick when we went to see the latest Bizarre Science Fantasy. We then spent the 4th of July at the lake trying desperately to catch up on sleep.
We're now back in Rome, exhausted, but just in time for World Cup finals. With Italy having just beat Germany in double overtime, we're definitely back right on time for all the action! Sunday should be insane!
