To All,
Stick with me during my transition to Blogger from Word Press. I enjoy Word Press immensely, but I just want to consolidate the number of sites I use. Blogger is run by Google, and I already am a member of many Google services.
I will still keep this site for my Rome and European Adventures, atleast for now. For all new posts, see the link (http://mtproscia.blogspot.com/) here and at the side of the page!
After a month with not so much as a peep, I’m back. I’ve been stuck at home, stuck here coming down with a case of Cabin Fever.
I’ve decided after the theft of my computer to put information like this online exclusively. That way I don’t lose anything uber valuable via theft. I’m starting a website, along with my facebook, this blog, the photos, and perhaps even a twitter.
I need to keep track of all these accounts and passwords!
Today was a breath of fresh air. Yesterday my mom and I saw UP, the new Pixar movie. Today, after a little moat digging outside, we got moving for once!
Christine is off at camp, so the three of us went to a Greek Festival and had delicious kebab and baklava! Then we putzed around West Hartford Centre for awhile before heading off to our ultimate destination, the BrewHaHa in Hartford.
Delicious dumplings, hamburgers, and a beer or two awaited in the time before the show. Then three comedians hit the stage, headlined by Joe Moffa.
The guys made fun of everything, including Hartford, and even me specifically.
‘Hartford is like Vegas,’ one guy quipped. ‘What Happens in Hartford, doesn’t fucking matter. Hartford, insurance capital of the country. So fucking exciting, I think I’ll go hang out at the Dunkin Donuts!’
Moffa asked, ‘Who here is married?’
My mom answered that she was, and for 25 years.
When Moffa found out that their 21 year old son was with them he commented ‘21 and you’re here with your parents? I bet your dad is footing the bill! You should be out! You should be over here with these titties!’ (He gestured to a bridal party that was the butt end of many recent jokes).
We left at the end of the show feeling full and happy.
It was a good day.
3.24.09
Tuesday, time for Alan Ceen and Studio. All I can recall from today is that I ducked in a little church at the top of Navona.
3.25.09
Romolo walk day. Today he took us to the top of the Quirinal hill, an area of Rome I don’t often go. We walked through a public gallery and then to where the Italian president resides. Then it was off to the two Baroque masterpiece churches by Bernini and Borromini, the two Baroque master architects. The churches were called San Carlo al Quattro Fontane and San Andrea al Quirinale. Both shaped like ovals, I have to put San Carlo at the top of my list of favorite churches in Rome.
Borromini, who came from humble origins, and has a tragic story arc, designed San Carlo. I consider him the better architect, and Bernini the better sculptor. Sidenote aside, they were both beautiful. Romolo also mentioned the possibility to work in Rome with him for the summer. I’d jump on the opportunity, but I imagine that I’d like to spend a little time with my family and friends who I haven’t seen in four months!
I would say a frustrating Italian class followed, but I skipped to get gelato with Susie and work on drawings for a project. It was a relaxing and enjoyable afternoon. Then I bought and drank a bottle of wine while chatting with friends over dinner.
3.26.09
What an odd hodgepodge of a day today was. The morning started with an Alan Ceen walk that dragged on forever. Called the Via Papale (the papal procession route the pope’s once took after being coronated), it took place in largely familiar territory for us. We did learn a few new interesting facts, though we moved terribly slowly. The highlight, by far, was when Susie left the walk for five minutes to buy some boots she had had her eye on, and then rejoined the group. We had moved hardly a block in that time, and she finally had the boots she’d be craving.
We finished our walk some three hours after we started before heading to studio. Then came the very interesting part of the day, the arrival of the Tweeds (Susie’s parents). I had only ever met the mother, and now was my chance to meet Papa Tweed. I was a little anxious, but I think things went over well.
The Tweeds took us to Buffetto’s, the second time I’d been there in a week! It was just as good the second time, and I was delightfully full. They also took us out for gelato to a shop with over 500 flavors! I was difficult to decide and I believe I got a licorice flavor by accident. Then, we decided to walk around for a bit before settling in for a small concert in a nearby church.
About halfway through the concert I left because I few of my friends had called earlier and said they were hanging out. The Tweeds didn’t mind much, and I left to hang out and have a fun night with our friends from Trastevere (a different region in Rome where other kids from our class live).
3.17.09
Alan Ceen’s class was particularly unexciting today. The lecture classes always are. Afterwards he took me and my group from Capri aside to say he enjoyed our part of the project, just not the contributions of our Italian counterparts.
The rest of the day was spent in studio, despite the nice weather outside. Our professor said my building had potential, which is good since I hadn’t done any work on it in three weeks. As he was going around to each of the other student I was busy trying to throw something together. I’m glad now I have some direction for next time; though I’d much rather spend the days outside than inside working.
The evening was spent at two bars in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day.
3.18.09
A day in which I spent no money, or so says my expense sheet. In the morning we had a Romolo lecture where we learned about Renaissance Roman architecture. We looked at two buildings that combined Renaissance and Baroque influences. An uneventful Italian class capped off the afternoon.
3.19.09
A cartography walk in the morning with Alan Ceen dragged on forever today. The walk, the Via Recta (which we had to do a route map for), passes right by where we live. The facts were new, but the scenery was not. A delicious lunch and studio followed before the evening’s festivities. Today was Phil’s birthday, yes another birthday! He got the cake and dinner-out treatment that has become commonplace for birthdays while we are here. Tonight we went to a restaurant called mimi and coco’s, just down the street. I got a mojito and some pumpkin soup, two things that don’t really go together but were good nonetheless.
3.20.09
I took zero pictures today, which makes it difficult to remember exactly what happened a week or so later. As I recall I sat in the common room and worked, and worked, and worked! Then, just as the sun was setting I decided that was enough working and bought a bottle of wine. The rest of the night we all sat around and drank our bottles of wine. Then, with some prodding, I convinced everyone to go out to a bar in Campo for another drink and more hang out time on this beautiful evening. After a nice time here we walked home and I had a pleasant sleep.
3.21.09
Today was another day that started out work, work, work. By mid-afternoon I was sick of all of that and decided to go out exploring. A few of us decided to venture down to S. John in Lateran, one of the seven main pilgrimage churches in Rome. I had already been there once at the beginning of the semester. I’ve decided however, that things here need to be experienced as many times as possible to really appreciate them.
We started by exploring the church on top of the Capitaline, and I felt like Rocky climbing all those stairs to get up to it. Then we went to Santa Croce, another pilgrimage church filled with old relics (like a severed finger and thorns from Jesus’ crown). We ended at the Lateran, which wasn’t quite so impressive the second time around. The first time we went was the third day we were here, and it was one of the first churches we saw. Now, after seeing so many pieces of architecture, Saint John’s (while still impressive) has lost a little bit of luster.
We ended by trying to get into the mysterious San Stefano Rotondo again, only to be foiled by its odd open hours. A trip to Toudi for food capped the end of a productive sightseeing day.
3.22.09
Again the day started productively. Then, again, I decided that was enough of that and headed off to Castel San Angelo. Located near the Vatican, we always walk past the Castle, but never go inside. Today I sucked it up and paid the eight euro.
Inside (and outside), the Castle is a hodgepodge of styles and eras dating back all the way to the year 100 where it was used as the mausoleum for Emperor Hadrian. Later on it was a legitimate castle, and then a stronghold for the Popes during times of war. Today it is a museum that commemorates such a rich history.
Though it was a bit difficult to navigate, we found the Castle to be quite interesting. Art exhibits, an arms museum, medieval frescoes, and tremendous views of the city greeted us on our visit.
The afternoon was more work until I once again got frustrated and decided to walk to the Trevi Fountain and Spanish Steps in the evening. Nothing is as relaxing as sitting in front of a giant fountain. If only the little men weren’t trying to sell me souvenirs it would have been perfect!
3.23.09
Today combined work with walking around the city, so I couldn’t gripe about it! It was time to outline Alan Ceen’s personal route map. This is an exercise where we create our own route walk through the city, connecting two points and avoiding major traffic roads.
My map attempts to connect Piazza del Popolo with Tiber Island, without using the three main trivium roads that take you there. Essentially this means I get to find my way through the old fabric of the Campo Marzio district. This area, which Piazza Navona is a part of, was a field in ancient times, and the densest part of the city. This is because after the fall of Rome, it was the area with the most easily accessible water. Monuments and landmarkers are abound in this district, though I failed to remember this when I set up my walk.
As I was walking the line drawn on my piece of paper it occurred to me the many important things that lay along my path. The Jewish Ghetto, the fountain of the turtles, several main churches and piazzas, and the Pantheon. I made an effort to stop in/at every bit that looked important, from the hospital at the start of my route, to a church clad in fresh and sweet smelling roses, to the Syria Church.
After an Italian class where we played a board game instead of learn anything, it was time for yet another birthday celebration, Mindy’s birthday. This was my first experience with a place called Buffetto’s (meaning the mustache in Italian). Apparently home to the best pizza in Rome, the restaurant is located about a block from home. There is a line nearly everyday, and a little Italian man greets you at the door, shuffling you quickly inside.
I have to say that it is probably the best, or one of the best, pizzas I’ve had in Rome. I had their specialty pizza, which came served with an egg over top. This might seem odd for us American types, but the result was delicious. Plus, the crust was so deliciously thin that you had to use a knife and fork to eat it. I’m drooling a bit just thinking about it now!
The first day back at class. In the morning I went out to finish an assignment for cartography. I went out walking for awhile and ended up at Ponte Sisto, a pedestrian bridge across the Tiber. While there I quickly did my assignment, which was to mark a view on this bridge that a painter took some 150 years ago. On the way back I ran into Alan Ceen on his bicycle, which I found to be an odd coincidence since I was just working on an assignment for him.
I did a much-needed load of laundry and went to the grocery store to get some much needed food. All I had in the fridge at the time were potatoes and pesto. I attempted to get out money beforehand, but was rejected by two banks. This put me in quite the bad mood, and I proceeded to rant about it all the way home. Susie paid for my groceries for the time being. I thought I was out of money for sure, though I was also sure that this couldn’t be possible. I thought I had budgeted so well. A quick check online confirmed I had money in my account and that the Bank of Sicily was a piece of crap.
After a brutal Italian class (my Italian is so rusty) where we learned two new tenses in two hours, I was ready for a break. I had just sat down to write in this here blog when Susie comes running in. She has been making a list of things she wants to do before we leave Rome. ‘Let’s go to the top of St. Peter’s dome!’ she exclaims. I look outside and see a beautiful sun setting across the clouds. This convinces me right quick that going to the dome right then would be perfect. We run out and head to the dome before dark. In fact, we ran out so quickly we forgot our phones, keys, and I forgot to change into pants.
For much of our walk I was certain they wouldn’t let me into St. Peter’s in shorts. Luckily they did, but the dome was closed! It closed at five, but I didn’t particularly care because I got to see a few parts of the church that I didn’t last time. The last time we went they were having a mass in the front, so under the dome was closed off. This time that wasn’t the case, and it was truly awe-inspiring. The shear size made me feel like an insignificant speck.
Susie wanted to look at boots in Borgo, the ‘cheap shopping district’ in Rome. We walked over there and I successful got money out of the Bancomat. As I was leaving a guy from Houston and I had a quick chat, sort of an American Abroad bonding experience. Susie couldn’t find any cheap boots, so we walked home and had a nice intellectual conversation the entire way.
In the evening I again was going to make an attempt to do work. Instead I took a nice nap on the couch. A few people went out for our friend matt’s birthday, including Susie. When I woke up from my nap I decided to try and find what bar they were at. My first guess ended up being right, Sloppy Sam’s in Campo dei Fiori. By the time I got there it was past midnight and St. Patrick’s Day. I partook in a green beer and spent about an hour there. We all got up to leave at the same time and had an eventful walk home. Our friend Anthony decided it would be a good idea to get inside a refrigerator box and run around the streets in it. The box-capade ended when matt tackled him outside Navona.
I went to bed feeling satisfied after what was a good first day back.
I’m back in Navona! This time, unlike the last, its for longer than a day. In fact, I don’t have any concrete plans to leave Navona until the end of the semester, so we’ll see what pops up between now and then.
Today was a very relaxing day as our last day on Capri. I found it difficult to get up this morning, but I really wanted our last free and pre-made breakfast, so I stumbled downstairs by half past eight. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to take that hot bubble bath I’d been planning on taking. Instead, a nice hot shower had to suffice. I said goodbye to my room just before check out time at eleven and the rest of the day we played kill the clock.
We had to meet Romolo to leave via Ferry by three-thirty. That meant something like five hours to kill, and suddenly we were looking for Alan Ceen to give us a structured walk. Instead, we decided to walk around the town of Capri, and then marina grande. More memorably we headed down to the beach and reenacted our cavemen instincts. For about an hour we looked for interesting rocks, threw other rocks at a plastic doll leg that had washed up on shore, and attempted to skip rocks across the bay. In seems very simple and mindless, but I quite enjoyed myself.
Our last real hike on the island was back up to Capri for lunch at Boca di Bobobobo, or whatever the place was called that we had dinner for Ashley’s birthday. They had relatively cheap and delicious pizza. Now we only had a few more hours left to kill, and a little more wandering had us back at Via Krupp. We explored the overlook platform a little and found an interesting reconstruction of an obelisk in Rome (a sundial). We also discovered that the echo from the platform made it possible for people a hundred feet away to hear our conversations. We had some fun with this, yelling at people we knew as they came back up from the beach. Alan Ceen was there and even joined in on the fun.
After a very in depth conversation about the inner workings of a pigeon’s brain, it was time to grab our things and head to the bus. Before I knew it, we were on the boat to Naples. After a taxi ride through Naples, (which was a much better decision than walking would have been, Naples looks quite dirty. There was a market on the sidewalk and I couldn’t tell what was trash and what was for sale.) we were on the train back to Rome. It took three hours, and after a rigged game of cards I fell asleep for the duration.
The rest of the evening was none too exciting. The first day back at classes loomed in the distance.
Who could believe it, but my weeklong stay on Capri is nearing its end. Today was a nice day and a fitting end to the week. After staying up late last night working on our presentation, I found it very difficult getting up this morning. The sunlight eventually got me out of bed and I wandered downstairs for breakfast the same time I usually do. For a good chunk of the morning after that, we just hung around the hotel. The rooms are quite pleasant when the huge doors are open, a breaze is sweeping inside, and sunlight warms the tiles.
By eleven we had made it to the beach, our ultimate goal for the day, and the second time I’d been to a beach on Capri. What a lovely day today was. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, and just warm enough when you were in the sun. I had to work on my tan lines, since there was beginning to be a beard tan line, and that would just look odd. Only a few minutes after we got to the beach Doc and I decided to be the first in the water. I stayed in much longer than the other day, despite it being just as cold.
This time I did a little swimming. We swam to and climbed on a rock in the bay, and then swam to a little pier of land that eventually led back to the beach. We saw a few jellyfish in the crystal clear water, but I think I avoided being stung. I could have been swarmed by jellyfish and not know it since all my limbs were numb by the time we got out. I snacked on the rest of my groceries and took a great nap in the sun after this. Before I knew it, everyone was leaving because it was time to go to crits! I convinced Susie to get in the water before we left to walk up the steep but scenic Via Krupp.
I only took a few minutes to get ready and change into the nicest clothes I brought. We stopped in the piazza for a sandwich and then to the studio space at three. Crits were long and often boring. I’m always envious of the work I see other people do, and when it reached time for us to go I was a bit nervous. I had designed a significant chunk of the project and if the jurors didn’t like it I’d feel like a bit of a failure. Add to that the fact that the jury particularly enjoyed the project right before us, and I was ready to break e for us to go I was a bit nervous. I had designed a significant chunk of the project and if the jurors didn’t like it I’d feel like a bit of a failure. Add to that the fact that the jury particularly enjoyed the project right before us, and I was ready to break my Lenten promise not to bite my nails.
I think we presented our project thoroughly, from the American and Italian perspectives. Our bilingual presentation only had one slip-up, when Doc said the word ‘splooge’ in reference to one of our diagrams. Apparently I said ‘Your Welcome’ to Alan Ceen at one point after he thanked me for explaining something to him. The reactions to the project seemed to be positive, though not outright commending it. They largely ignored the things I designed and focused the bulk of their criticism on a wall the Italians placed atop an existing ruin. I think they enjoyed the alterations I made to the landscape, but it was difficult to discern from an Italian speaking jury.
During my downtime I sketched a few of the jurors, including an Italian named Kiko who had a strong resemblance to Hagrid from Harry Potter. I realized towards the end when another group had a similar portion of their design to our (but got the opposite reaction) how subjective architecture is. As long as you produce something cohesive, thoughtful, and aesthetically pleasing, I feel like you’ve created successful architecture. I shouldn’t get so hung up on these reviews.
Susie and I took a quick run to the grocery store for some drinks and got to see Capri at night. Usually we’re asleep or working by this time of night, but the views of the hillsides are quite nice. Unlike our friend Mobilia, we made it to the grocery store before it closed. I took a commemorative picture with my Italian group, and then headed to the hotel for a lackluster dinner. The cake (which was soaked in some sort of liquor) was the best part. A bunch of people were drinking and partying upstairs, but we decided to watch a movie instead. Apparently Alan Ceen even decided to join in on the party, so I’m sure I’ll hear about it tomorrow.
I fell asleep about halfway through ‘The Dark Knight’ and only just woke up to update you on the day’s events. This is a rather short account in comparison to some others. I wonder if I’m forgetting something? I’ll be sure to run through this back at Navona when I have more down time. Ciao!
7:25 a.m.
Friday the 13th. Quite the unlucky day to venture out onto the ocean, but as I look outside onto calm seas, it appears that that’s where I’ll be heading today.
Later On
Today was the day I decided to do it. I decided to shave my beard into the Alan Ceen mutton chops. I wasn’t going to do it, but my classmates convinced me otherwise. As I walked down the stairs with my newly shaven face it felt like I was some sort of celebrity. Caryn was taking a video, and flashes all started going off at once. It was an odd feeling. Sure I like attention, but I’d never had this much all at once.
Alan was standing at the bottom of the steps with Romolo. He was clearly waiting impatiently because I was late for the walk. It took him a second to realize I’d shaven to match his look. I think the facebook video sums it up perfectly, and it makes me smile every time I watch it. After the celebrity wore off we all headed out for our boat ride around Capri.
It was a wonderful experience, and I wish we had time to rent kayaks and explore all the little grottos. Our boat was too big to maneuver inside any of them, so we just saw things from the outside. First we boated past Jovis, then the White and Green grottos. Our boat when through a cave in the Faraglioni and then past the Anacapri lighthouse. The sun beat on us as we skirted through the crystal clear waters. Some people sunned themselves on the front, while other frantically took pictures. I did a balance of both before we arrived to our final stop at the Blue Grotto.
If you don’t know, the Blue Grotto is famous for its crystal clear and vibrant blue waters. It was an expensive endeavor (13 for the boatride, and 10 to go in the grotto), but well worth it. We got off our larger boat four at a time and into rowboats piloted by little Italian men. As Susie, Phil, Ernest, and I neared the entrance to the grotto, our little man pulled on a chain. The chain guided us where oars could not, into the mouth of the grotto. The entrance is barely large enough for the rowboat to fit though. We all had to duck down, and if he timed it wrong (during a swell) we would have been smashed on the rocks. Of course, he’s an expert at this, though right was we were going through he yelled ‘Oh my God!’ purely for dramatic effect.
Inside the grotto was as beautiful as I thought, and pictures probably couldn’t capture it. It was very dark, but the light that did get through made the water the most vibrant blue. Our little man buzzed through the Roman history before breaking into romantic and haunting song that echoes around the cave. I later found out that Alice had jumped in and swam about the grotto for a bit.
We arrived safely back on the larger boat, which took us back to marina grande. The rest of the day went very similarly to routine. This time however, I decided to have a little fun. I shaved my facial hair off in stages, three total. The first was Alan Ceen, the second were biker-chops, and the third was a mustache. Romolo commented that every time he saw me I had different hair, and that my mustache rendition looked like an Italian barber.
Alan and I bonded over our beards earlier, and I heard him bragging to the boat driver about my attempt to copy him. He told me he shaved his beard in the middle so no soup would get stuck there. He also said I was the only person to ever do this, besides another student who attempted to glue cotton balls to his face. Apparently that ended disastrously.
At the pub I particularly enjoyed myself, and Susie tried a new beer called Adel Scott that I said tasted like the Wild West. I enjoyed my Lowerbrau per usual before heading back to work. We bid adieu to the Italian professor, who had to leave for business in the morning. He complimented me on my facial hair, and on my designs, which he said were very mies van der rohe.
As I sat there working in the lobby I overheard the clerk making fun of my mustache in Italian. I swore I heard buffo Americano (stupid American mustache). We worked until three in the morning, and upon finishing my part of the presentation I bid my hard working Italian colleagues goodnight.
Today was an interesting day. In the morning, we were supposed to go to the Grotto Azzura, the famous Blue Grotto on Capri. Just by looking at the sea though, I could tell it wouldn’t happen today. Whitecaps were visible from my window, and I don’t look directly out onto the ocean either. Alan Ceen announced what I knew was true, and instead our walk lead us up the Phoenician Stairs.
These stairs were supposedly made by the Phoenicians, who predated even the Romans. Alan suspected they were newer than that. We followed his lead to the stair entry point. Usually this is a good idea because Alan Ceen knows every shortcut, every road, and every doorway in Rome. So far, the same could be true on Capri, except for today. Today Alan had to break out a map, and I was certain for a while we were lost. After going up and down the edge of the mountain, we did arrive at the start of the staircase.
The stairs were apparently an ancient way to connect Capri and Anacapri, the two towns on the island. Topography naturally segregates these communities by a two hundred meter high cliff. The stairs wind their way up the side of this cliff and into the outskirts of the town of Anacapri. At times the angle on these stairs must have been sixty degrees, and they were not for the light of heart. Always being one to joke around, I challenged Alice to race to the top, winner got a candy bar. That was a poor choice. Alice is all muscle I imagine, since she plays semi-professional water polo.
For a while we were neck and neck, plodding along up the cliff. Then my stamina just died and she beat me by a minute or so at the end. I settled for second place and losing a candy bar because that was probably the most intense work out I’d done in ten years. People began filing in after that. One by one they panted up the hill, and eventually we saw old Alan Ceen making his way up, slow and steady like the tortoise. Romolo was behind him, panting like the rest of us. We had all stopped at a small white church, but this wasn’t our final destination.
The end of this part of the walk came at Villa San Michele, an elaborate home built by Swedish doctor Axel Munthe. Alan insisted if he stopped walking he’d collapse, so we plodded up the last bit of stairs to the villa. After a quick synopsis of what this villa was all about, we were free to explore the town or go inside. It cost five euro, and Susie, Alan, and I were the only ones to go in. It was a little strange to go anywhere one on one with Alan Ceen, especially because he doesn’t know my name. Regardless, he talked a little about the last time he was here (apparently 1993), and some historical facts about this Villa, and another Villa whose ruins were visible on the shoreline below (the Villa of Augustus, which apparently had a saltwater baths system, think ocean swimming pool). The views from San Michele were gorgeous, and the architecture (white washed eclectic style from 1900) seemed to fit. Bits of Roman columns and artifacts that Munthe had found around the island were scattered into the structure and details of the villa. His prized possession was a sphinx that he ‘found’ in Egypt and brought back here to be next to his study/chapel. At the edge of the viewing platform, Alan and Susie had romantic moment, where they both sat on a bench together leaving no room for me. They gazed off into the horizon as Alan’s muttonchops blew in the wind.
We left the villa and met up with the others, who were about to take a chairlift to the top of the mountain. I believe the peak stands at 550 meters tall, and exhausted as we were, it only made sense to take this chairlift the rest of the way. This wasn’t your run of the mill chairlift either. Each person got their own seat, and the single seat with person would take off for the twelve-minute climb up the mountain. Scary as that may seem, we were never more than thirty feet off the ground the entire time.
It was colder at the top, and I was still drenched with sweat from our hike up the hill, and also wind whipped from where we were outside San Michele. Inside the villa it was nice and protected, but up here, my hands were so cold I could barely write. I was trying to make a note about the number of roosters I heard on the way up the mountain (there were several), but it just came our as a squiggly line.
As I hopped off the lift I got a funny sensation in my feet, which had been dangling below me this entire time. It felt like pins and needles, though I wasn’t the only one to get it. Joe and Caryn also felt the same thing, and we wondered why it happened. As we turned the corner though, the conversation ended abruptly, replaced by the shock and awe of the panoramic view.
You could see nearly the entire island, except for the portion now hidden by the two hundred meter cliff we were atop. Ocean spread out to infinity before us in nearly all directions. On the opposite side, Naples and the other islands of the Bay framed the view. In the distance you could just see the snow-capped peaks and it reminded me of the other day when we went swimming and I made the same observation. If there’s still snow on the peaks, its probably too cold to swim. A few group photos were taken with Alan and Romolo before the real photo shoots began.
Usually I want to be a part of these things, because they are humorous and document where you’ve been and that you had fun there. What it turned into was more of a competition of who could be the biggest goof and have the most pictures snapped of themselves. That’s how I felt anyway, and I decided it was best to leave these goofballs and head over into a rolling pasture below. I found it odd that there was such a space this high up on a mountain, and the pasture soon ended abruptly in a cliff that went almost straight down into the sea. If you even want to feel vertigo, try standing and peering over the edge of a cliff with no railing, straight down some five hundred meters. It was intense, and when a gust of wind came along, I was out of there real quick.
Everybody was pretty lame after and decided to head back to the hotel. Susie, Phil, Ernest, and I decided to explore the town of Anacapri more, since we most likely wouldn’t be back here the rest of the trip. After looking around numerous places and seeing Romolo and his wife at a café, we found a little bar of our own to eat at. It was cheap and good (fries and a burger), though the cook wasn’t working so the hostess made our food. She did a good job, despite not hearing half our orders. Susie asked for tap water, called aqua rubineto, and her request was met with ‘WHAT??!!’ The woman didn’t understand the translation, and I imagine we’ve been saying it wrong for our entire stay abroad.
Before we caught the bus back to Capri (because the walk would be much too intense for my tired legs), a strange man and woman started yelling at me. ‘Golo, Golo, photo, photo!’ they yelled. It took about a minute of awkwardness before Ernest could discern that they thought I was a soccer player called Golo. They snapped a few pictures of me with their camera phones before I moved on, very confused.
As I recall, the rest of the day wasn’t very eventful. In fact, we sort of got into a routine here. After a fun morning I’d go to studio, meet with the Italian professor, talk with my group, work a little, go out to the pub, go back to studio, and end up going to bed. The same went for today.
7:25 a.m.
I find noting more relaxing than falling asleep to the sound of the crickets in the summer. Nothing, except, waking up to the chirp of birds, the caw of a seagull in the distance, and the sun peaking overtop the hills of Capri and onto the ocean below. When I woke up this morning, that is what I saw and heard, and I am currently out on my balcony that overlooks the Mediterranean just soaking it all in. The sun has just peaked behind a cloud, so I can actually read my computer screen as a write, so I think I’ll catch up on a few more journal entries before heading down to breakfast.
Later Day’s Events
Today was split into three very distinct parts. Part one began with our Alan Ceen walk around the island. I have this theory that Alan Ceen can never get lost, even on an island with small skinny roads that he hasn’t set foot on in ten years. He must have the best memory known to man. On our walk he was recalling bits and pieces of things that weren’t here the last time he was here, before he jetted off in a new direction.
When I say jetted, I mean that Alan took us at a near brutal pace up and down the slopes of Capri. Even Romolo couldn’t keep up! The walk started right around nine in the morning and we booked it up a hill only to end up at a crossroads we’d all seen before. If we had gone straight we would have ended up back at Villa Jovis. Instead, we turned right and headed to a district called matermania. On the walk we made four memorable stops (most of the walk was memorable, through cliffs, past ocean views). The first of which was the Arco Naturale, a portion of rock that had been weathered so now a gaping hole formed its center. Views straight down into the sea below and craggy peaks in the background framed a very memorable view.
Then we walked down, down, down to the Grotto matermania, a cave partially formed naturally, and partially infilled with Roman constructions. A few drips of water fell from the stalactites above and you could barely see the sea behind a grove of trees. We walked into this grove next, down a spiraling path that looked like it would have brought us to the water. It was a tease, and we spiraled upwards until a familiar piece of architecture was in our sights.
The Casa mallaparte, a piece of facist architecture from the 1940’s, now sat about 100 meters away from us perched on a rocky peninsula. The home is perhaps the modern day equivalent of Villa Jovis, jutting out to the sea with panoramic view on nearly all sides. Unfortunately, this was as close as we could get to it, since the gate was covered in barbed wire and the only way around was either to climb up a cliff to the left, or down into the abyss on the right. Some people scaled the rocks to try and get a better view of the place. I simple stood on the wall, hoping not to slip and tumble to my demise below. Alan Ceen and Romolo begged for people to get down, and when they did, we continued our walk.
Our walk took us past the blooming flowers and smells blossoming on the island. My nose was a bit stuffed, but I could just sense the wonderful smells of nature, in stark contrast to the smell of cigarettes and smog in Rome, around me. We walked past the Faraglioni, a set of enormous rocks that jutted from the sea just meters from the edge of the main island. As the story goes, these were the rocks that the Cyclops threw at Odysseus as he tried to escape. I particularly enjoy this rendition of the story, even though the real reason is the swirling action of waves and winds. After more climbing we reached the end of our walk at a hotel supposedly designed by the French architect Le Corbusier. I can neither confirm nor deny this, but I can tell you the view was great. In the distance you could just see the beach, and we all decided to venture down here when the walk concluded.
Part One of my day continued during this beach adventure. We grabbed some tomatoes, made some sandwiches, changed into our swimsuits, and took off down Via Krupp to the beach. We arrived the same time as a few other people, while still others were already sunbathing. I quickly got in the water, which was freezing. My body practically went into shock, but once everything went numb it wasn’t so bad. A few waves knocked me around, and you had to be careful of some rocks, but it was enjoyable. It wasn’t particularly dangerous I imagine because if you look at pictures, in the summer this beach is filled with swimming tourists.
After that cold dip, I ate a sandwich and sat on the beach for quite some time. The sun felt very warm despite the cold water, and the rocks on the beach (not a sandy beach by any means), were actually like a memory foam cushion around me. I found some nice shells and a few old tiles from homes around the island that had fallen into the sea and then washed ashore.
After a while, I got up and walked around some tidepools and other areas nearby. Perhaps disconcerting was a sign that said ‘Swim at your own risk. Lifeboat lost at sea.’ It looked rather official. Two creepy men were pretending to eat a sandwich from the dock nearby, but on closer inspection they were only checking out the girls that were with us in their bikinis. Really, only the boys went in the water, with the exception of Alice (our New Zealander who plays water polo). I went back in two more times, and tried to get Susie to go in once.
Though unsuccessful, I did sit on her while she was sunbathing, just after I got out of the cold water. It was very funny, and she was very cold and upset. It was time to leave sooner than we all expected, and perhaps best signaled when Alice accidentally broke a bottle while throwing a stone near it. Joe and Steph stopped their futile stone-skipping contest, and everybody packed up to head to studio. I found it very amusing saying ‘after the beach, I guess I’ll head to studio.’
We took a different route home than Via Krupp. This time, instead of a series of ramps, it was straight up stairs for a kilometer or more. By the end, we found ourselves exhausted, but right in the center of town where we got a gelato to cool off. After changing and leaving for studio, Part one of my day was over.
Part Two is what I like to call ‘The 3 Lost Architecture Students.’ Romolo was busy talking to the all American teams of students, while the Italian professor was busy talking to his students. Our group was talking to him, in all Italian, while we sat idly by. In the end, we got a synopsis from our group mates, but I still felt a bit excluded. We got together and discussed some ideas and just as we were starting, Romolo decided to come over. This is where it got monotonous. Romolo talked to the Italians about their ideas, and then us about ours. Each time he had to re-explain to the opposing group what he had just said in a different language. The result was a bi-lingual crit that lasted twice as long as it should have. It was some crazy hour by the time we finished, especially since the leader of their group kept asking questions! I was starving, and luckily Susie came just as we were finishing to whisk me away for dinner.
Here begins Part III, Ashley’s dinner. I’ll be honest; I didn’t even know it was my friend Ashley’s birthday until I was at the dinner table. I blame not having facebook for this oversight. It as a pleasant dinner, a nice 180 from the afternoon’s activities. I got a pasta and pepper dish and split half a pizza with Steph. Both were delicious, and cost about the same as having dinners at the hotel. After dinner I’m pretty sure I went back to the hotel and slept, unaware of the day that was in store for me.
