The beauty of studying abroad is that you are not just limited to the country or region you are living in. With cheap tickets, budget airlines, and such a small continent, Europe is basically at your fingertips.

My first trip was to the beautiful and ancient city of Rome. I have been completely and utterly in love with Barcelona since the moment I got here but at the same time I was itching not only to explore another part of Europe but also to gain a little familiarity by reuniting with my friends studying at Loyola’s John Felice Rome Center. My weekend was filled with arguably the best pizza and gelato I will ever consume in my lifetime, and of course, no visit to Rome would be complete without a visit to the Colosseum – that is if you can avoid the street vendors offering selfie sticks.  Through Piazza to Piazza, I also made it to Vatican City, for a breathtaking view of St. Peter’s Basilica at sunset. Although it’s not as cosmopolitan as I am used to, Rome has something truly special hidden in every corner.

           

The following weekend I hopped on my first hilarious Ryanair flight, which really puts the “budget” in budget airline, with my three friends and flew out to experience as much of London as we could in three short days. Upon landing I instinctually greeted the man at customs in Spanish. After realizing what I did, I laughed and let out an internal sigh of relief realizing I would not have to worry about a language barrier this weekend. This was a factor that gave London a certain sense of familiarity, other than the fact that they had a Chipotle! The city was definitely much more of a hustle and bustle compared to Barcelona and reminded me just of a more refined and European version of Chicago. We saw Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, took a stroll through Soho and even tried fish ‘n chips! For a stunning 360 view of the city, my friends and I trudged the 311 spiral stair-cased steps of The Monument, and boy was it worth it. Although we didn’t get to see nearly enough of London in our stay, it was still incredible.

             

Maybe it was because it was Valentine’s Day, but when I traveled to Paris the next weekend I definitely fell in love with the City of Love. I hadn’t been there since I was a child with my family years ago, but now coming back I have a new and profound appreciation for everything it has to offer. The Eiffel Tower was ten times bigger than I remember it being too! After taking the obligatory selfies on the Champs de Mars, and window shopping for things I couldn’t afford on the Champs-Élysées, I made my way to the Saint Germain neighborhood to see the Notre Dame cathedral. Following the River Seine, I crossed the Pont du Arts or more famously known as the “Love Lock Bridge” over to the Louvre. My last stop, and arguably most important, was at the famous Ladurée macaroon shop where I fulfilled my lifelong dream of buying my own box of perfectly colored treats (45 minute long line later). Everything about Paris from start to finish was memorizing; the scenery, the architecture, the food, the people. Now that I am back in Barcelona you could say I am a little lovesick!

         

Whether you are taking in the Colosseum’s enormity, looking out over the London Bridge or walking along the River Seine and gazing up at the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower, there is no other feeling like the sense of overwhelming appreciation that comes over you when you realize where you are and how truly lucky you are to be there.

Besos!

Two weekends ago, my friends and I journeyed to Venice for the last weekend of Carnivale. We braved overnight trains, the convoluted streets of that ancient water-logged city, and what we thought would be massive flooding. Here are some things I took away from that weekend.

1. The city is an experience unlike anything you’ve ever experience (unless you literally live on an island). Walking through thestreets, seeing people driving by in water taxis, looking at the way the city works, in its damp glory, is singularly unique in Italy, Europe, and the world.

2. People at Carnivale go to lengths to get in on the experience. Due to poor logistical planning, my friends and I arrived at 5:30 a.m. while the city was still sleeping. Except, it wasn’t. We made our way to Piazza San Marco, cold and expecting to be bored for the next few hours, but what we saw threw those thoughts on their head. People were fully dressed up in their extravagant outfits at six in the morning. On top of that, there were innumerable photographers, tourists, and just general people milling around trying to get in on that spectacle.

3. Gondola rides. While this may be possibly the most cliche thing to do in Venice, they are worth it. However, what makes them so unique is not the fact that they are a fun boat ride by a man in a striped sweater who (if you pay him enough) might warble out some Italian tunes. What makes the ride so profound is the fact that there are no cars in the city – the gondolas and water taxis are the equivalent of our mechanical horses. We saw what it was like to “drive” through the watery streets of the city from the water. Yes, tourists and other people gawked at us from every bridge and vantage point, and yes, the ride was overpriced for its brevity, but what it meant was well worth the twenty Euro.

Go to Venice if you get a chance – but dress up, wear a mask, and be prepared to fight crowds every day.

Over the last three weeks I’ve checked London, Paris, and Barcelona off my list of destinations to visit while studying abroad, and it’s been an incredible time to say the least. I’m starting to gain a better understanding of different European cultures and the nuances that distinguish them from one another, and I’m excited to keep broadening my horizons during each weekend excursion. There are a few things that I picked up on while traveling to each city that I feel are important to note before going, and below you’ll find some tips, tricks, and suggestions on how to get the most out of your experience.

 

Paris:

Paris was my favorite city yet, and spending Valentine’s Day there was really special. The Eiffel Tower is even more impressive than I expected, and it’s truly something I feel everyone studying abroad should get to see. Stay away from the food shops at its base – you’ll save about five Euro for the same Nutella crepe just outside the main crush of tourists. Make sure to take a walk to the Arc de Triomphe, and head down the Chans de Lise if you’re looking to get some shopping in. If hostels aren’t for you, take a look at the hotel options before you book an Air BnB. They’re normally less expensive and centrally located – I was able to find a place for about 100 Euro total for the weekend, which is not bad considering it was Valentine’s Day.

 

It’s glaringly apparent that the French are not very fond of Americans, especially when you eat in restaurants. Try your best to blend in, and keep the phones away during meals for the best service.

 

 

Barcelona:

Barcelona has a few must see attractions for a weekend trip. The Segrada Familia was breathtaking, and even with scaffolding and cranes up due to its endless construction, it was a sight I’ll never forget. It’s best to purchase your tickets online before visiting, that way you can avoid the entrance lines (takes over an hour to get in).  Several of my friends attended the FC Barcelona game that weekend, and it sounded like a seriously fun time from what they described. Even if you’re not a soccer fan, it’s a cultural experience I would recommend (and wish I had done).

The tapas and sangria in Barcelona are an absolute must try, and you can’t go wrong with a few pitchers among good company. Local bars and clubs are a main focus in the area, and their pricing is manageable for college students on a budget if you do a little investigation on Yelp.

 

 

London:

First and foremost, London is an incredibly expensive city. If you’re thinking of making the trip, be sure to pre plan and have your finances in order. Booking flights and accommodation well in advance will save you stress on the ground, and my friends and I learned the hard way on this one. Aside from the overall expense, London as a city is stunning. The architecture when lit up at night is beyond impressive, and the diverse nightlife gives you plenty of options to have a good time. The highlight for me was seeing the Wimbledon grounds. My friends and I had initially planned on just taking a look from the outside gates, but we were offered a tour for 10 Euro that gave us access to center court. I’ve never been an avid tennis follower, but the history and significance of the tournament made me appreciate each moment I was there. Once back in the city, I recommend taking a walk through Green Park on the way to Buckingham Palace, and then a stroll down Piccadilly Street. The atmosphere is similar to Times Square in New York, and if you’re lucky you’ll run in to the Chipotle in China Town (it’s better than America).

 

I’m learning a lot along the way during each weekend trip and growing accustomed to traveling internationally. This weekend I’ll be heading to Brussels, and plan on eating as many Belgian Waffles as I can while seeing what the city has to offer.

 

That’s all for now.

 

Ciao!

Last week at UCC was the best week in the academic calendar– RAG week. RAG week, which stands for Raise & Give, is 4 days that are crammed with a number of events that all raise money for different charities. Events normally start around 10am and run until 4pm that any and all students can participate in. The on campus bars also open at 12:30 everyday and are packed with students from open to close. Walking into New Bar on campus, is just like walking into a night club– dimmed lights, blasting music, swimming with people, and flowing drinks– all at 1pm. This makes the general tone of the entire campus like a party. Some students participate in as many activities on campus as possible and some just use RAG week as an excuse to drink 24/7. But no matter which way you spend RAG week, it is for a good cause, so drinking that pint at 2 isn’t as bad when you throw a Euro into a bucket for charity while you drink it.

It is also important to note that Cork City is largely a college town, this means that it’s not just the campus that goes crazy when RAG week comes around– the whole city does. People who don’t attend college at UCC will come for RAG week, practically all of the pubs and clubs have some kind of drink deals during RAG week. We went into the city on Monday night at 10:30 and the line to a popular club was already around the block and the club didn’t open for another half an hour. The whole city seems to go crazy for RAG week, the week before RAG week we were in a cab and the cab driver spent half of the time talking about how people from the country come into Cork for RAG week. Each apartment in the complex that I live in received a letter from our landlord reminding us of some of the apartments rules and threatening serious consequences to tenants who break these rules, such as throwing eggs out of the window or at other buildings, tampering with security cameras and fire extinguishers, and so on. There would also be a security guard on the premise during RAG week instead of our usual night wardens. This letter made me wonder what has possibly happened in past RAG weeks to prompt this type of letter.

So how did I survive RAG week? Did I even survive RAG week? Yes and yes. I actually only had one class all week of RAG week and that was my music class on Monday. My two government classes were cancelled because it was reading week. My folklore class had a story-teller guest speaker for one class and the other was just cancelled. This left me with a week for free time to enjoy this crazy cultural phenomena that is RAG. On Monday I shot clay pigeons with two other friends. I was horrible. I did not hit a single pigeon thus embarrassing my gun-loving American stereotype. On Tuesday, we watched some of the ‘iron stomach’ competition which consisted of the contestants taking off one of their socks, putting it over a carton of milk, and drinking the entire carton. Wednesday, my roommate and I woke up at 12:15 and some how made it to the color run at 12:30. Thursday, we went to the on campus bar again to watch some student karaoke. And Friday, I did not leave my bed. RAG consisted of a lot of dancing, borrowing roommates clothes, laughing, and a relaxing feel-good atmosphere that never really seems to be missing in Ireland. It was a week that I will never forget, and my liver will never forgive me for.

Sadly, the end of RAG week brought me back to the harsh reality that I am in Ireland to go to school. As March approaches, I have major, assignments for all of my courses due. With papers and projects due every week, it is time to buckle down and get my study on. There are many silver-linings to a month of hard-work. The major one being that after April 2nd, I will have only one more paper due (a paper in my music class due on the 24th) and then I will be completely finished with class assignments. No finals for me, which means I will have practically 2 months to fully enjoy my time in Ireland and abroad. With many trips planned on the horizon, all it takes is a positive attitude, and lots of cups of tea, to get me through this month of work and to the end of the tunnel.

I should be quick to note that this month of work will definitely not be only work. This weekend I head up to Dublin with some friends and leave with one of my roommates from Loyola. My roommate, Alyssa, is visiting me over her spring break and I cannot be more excited to show her how I have been living here as she has been experiencing one of Chicago’s coldest February’s ever. Once she leaves, I have a weekend trip to Kerry planned as well as a weekend in Glasgow. The end of March also means a visit from a Rome-center friend, Allison, whose plans we are still trying to iron out. With so much work and play in my future, it is crazy to think how I will ever adjust back to life at home. It is safe to say it will be a more difficult transition home then it was to get here.

Thats all for now! More later!

Wherever life takes you, just be there in the moment and take it all in. Realize the best dreams happen when you’re awake, even when you’re not prepared for them. Just go and know you’ll end up where you belong, trust in God and do more than simply exist. This is the life I’ve come to live. I’ve traded in the fast paced lifestyle for that of taking time to see the world and have been given one thing, a taste of the fullness of life, my greatest gift.

There’s no time to be bored in a world like this. There’s people, places, culture around every corner waiting for me to absorb it in. I get caught up in the kids popping bubbles at Piazza Trasevere, get chants stuck in my head from the Roma Soccer Stadium, and find a piece of myself a little more walking along the streets of another unknown city. I think to myself what a wonderful world it is and how lucky I am to truly experience it.

I learn constantly, about myself, my surroundings, the world, everyday. Through class assignments, such as my Italian Movie Project, I am forced to immerse myself in a culture completely. To attempt the language, hand movements, and warmth of the people around me. My homework is more than piece of papers, it goes beyond what’s right in front of me, making me leave my comfort zone and try something entirely new just to see where it takes me. It’s talking to people I’ve never met, speaking a language I’m starting to grasp, and inviting them to join me on my adventure even if only for a moment. These are my grades, they transform into my story.

The lessons of my classroom have become lessons of my life taught by people all around me with more than just the title of Professor. Although my teachers have gone above and beyond their job, I’ve come to get to know and connect to the John Felice Rome Center community. I have gained relationships with the chefs of Mensa (our cafeteria) knowing life behind their uniforms, have shared conversations and meals with the Director of our program, someone I admire and see as a great friend, and have grown to have a large appreciation for the people who operate these facilities. My Student Life Assistants do exactly as their title explain, assisting me in all manners of my life, becoming friends and mentors along the way. As for my peers, they allow me to be placed in an environment filled with authenticity, an emphasis on education, and full enjoyment of life that constantly keeps me going. The community here inspires me daily to not only see the world around me, but encourages me to change it.

With this newly developed mentality and positive environment, I have gone beyond my comfort zone, leading me to events, people, and places I never would of expected, including times where I traded in the field for the stands taking the skills I’ve learned in Calcio to root for the actual team! With a group of around 40 study abroad students in my program, I attended a typical Roma soccer game filled with more security than fans and cheered on the city I’ve come to call my own. I experienced first handedly the importance sports have on Italian culture and how teams tie with political and social views. Calcio, Italian soccer, is more than a sport played within a 90 minute time period. It’s a part of who the Italian people are. They see it as something that defines them. This just like many other things shows the passion of the Italian people and pride in all things that define them. It’s a rarity I’ve never seen among any other group of individuals, but hope to gain from living here.

 Getting to see Roma in this different light allowed me to appreciate the complexity of cities, leading me to the perfect destination next on my list, Barcelona. Flavor, passion, and rooted culture were discovered within every restaurant, street corner, and cathedral. The city represented more than the country of Espana, giving it’s own individuality as the Catalan people.

While walking the streets, one gets lost in the beautiful work of Gaudi, a man who envisioned more for Barcelona and took his talent to transform the city into what it is today. The streets, parks, monuments would be nothing without him. He made Barcelona and he was only one person. His impact on an entire city makes me think someday I can use my individual talents to do the same. This encouragement and inspiration was not something I only found in myself, but saw in that of others as they walked the streets of La Rambla and the coastline with me.

There was so much to take in during such a short period of time, but that never intimidated me. On top of walking more than a marathon around the entire city limits, I embraced the mentality that life is all about walking up an hour early to live an hour more, using the map in my hand to guide me and taking well deserved breaks enjoying the natural juices of the St. Joseph Market to keep me going.

Through experiencing this city, I recognized how the Spanish people make everything transform into something beautiful, whether it be the parks, monuments, cathedrals or benches on your way to the beach. They take art and give it a deeper meaning using that as a source to express their values and morals as a community. They added rooted heritage to their Catedral, celebrated their power in the world by creating the Font Magica at Monjuic and Arc de Triomf at the entrance of Ciutadella Park, embraced a new time of technology at Torre Agbar and Els Encants Flea Market, as well as, established a place for community at Park Guell and home of Gaudi. Everything was their own, traditional and authentic.

The Catalan people of Barcelona live in a way that everything will always fall into place, taking their history of a torn city to lay as the foundation of their current success. They take pride in their people, like Picasso, Gaudi, and Colombus who changed the course of history. The people of Barcelona weren’t just people their, they danced in the streets on Sunday morning before heading to mass at the Cathedral, sold authentic and natural goods in the markets, lived in apartment buildings found between the amazing Casa Mila and Casa Batllo, and passed the masterpiece of Sagrada Familia daily. They celebrated life everyday through their never ending night life and lived in a way where working as a team and taking your time was the only way to success. They showed things without every having to state them. That was Barcelona and that’s why I loved it.

I was fortunate enough to not only see the monuments, but the lives of the people, sharing my weekend with mutual friends who lived in the country and enjoying John Felice Rome Center students outside of the norm. It was an adventure I’d take again any day and have already set on going back in 2030 when a century of work is complete. The city changed my perspective, faith, and appetite, things I will forever take with me.

When returning from to my home in Roma, I realized the date. The setting around me and the people I share my experience with have made my enjoyment overcome the need of keeping track of time. It’s a blessing, but also a curse. I am now almost half way through this adventurous chapter of my life and can only hope that the days remaining come easy, the moments pass slowly and each road leads me to where I want to go. If I had one wish it would be that a trip like this could last forever, but I’ve come to realize that’s sadly not my truth, so I take in each breathe fully and pray that I’ll really live each moment because it’s the least I can do. I’m off like always to explore a new city and fall in love with my own all over again. I don’t know my next stop or lesson, but can promise you one thing, I’ll continue to mistaken my reality for a dream, if you lived my life, you’d be doing the same.

Adios for now,

Gabriella Lunich

So this is a blog post all about how my life’s been twist-turned upside down.

I’ve officially been in Rome for an entire month! It feels like I’ve only been here for days, but at the same time it feels like I’ve been here for months. In many ways, the first month feels like a vacation. Plenty of other things in life only last a few weeks: summer camps, extended vacations, middle school relationships. But now that I’ve surpassed that one-month milestone, I guess you could say it now feels “real.” I’m here for the long haul…that feels unsettlingly short.

I miss my family, my friends, my boyfriend, my dogs, Loyola, and chicken salads with ranch dressing. I also miss Rome already. My carb intake is at its prime, I had my first exams last week, and I have to figure out my housing situation for next year from all the way across the Atlantic Ocean. I also have to finalize my major, about which I’m considering a last-minute change, by the time I come home from Rome. A lot of us here are trying to find summer internships or jobs, too, but have no idea where we’ll even be living over the summer. Steven, one of the SLAs, ended up taking a year off after his semester abroad to stay in Rome and work as an au pair. It’s surreal and terrifying – that could be any one of us.

I mentioned it somewhat jokingly with a Fresh Prince reference at the beginning of this post, but it’s actually true. Rome is turning my life upside down by showing me that there are infinite possibilities for what I’m going to do with it. It’s a wonderful and overwhelming thing. The possibilities are exciting and exhausting. I want to make the right choice, to take risks – but not too many – and to ultimately be successful. It’s a lot of pressure to shoulder when all I want to do is go lay in the courtyard, eat a blood orange, and soak up Rome’s winter sun.

That’s the truth you won’t hear too often from anyone who studies abroad. Yes, I get to do incredible things. But it’s studying abroad, not vacation abroad (though some people do indeed act like it’s a vacation). I’m still going through all the typical college struggles, but I usually opt instead to write about my crazy stories!

Speaking of crazy stories.

I went to beautiful Venice the weekend before last! Carnivale, a celebration leading up to Lent, was at its height. During Carnivale, people dress up in elegant costumes, don masks, and parade around the island. It can be best described as a classier, more elaborate version of Halloween. The attention to detail in some of the costumes is nothing short of astonishing – same with the immense crowds. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

The first thing we did was take a gondola ride. IT WAS A DREAM COME TRUE. Our comedic gondolier, dressed in stripes and a beret, spouted out fun facts about the places we were passing and even hummed a little bit. He pointed out the fish market where Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp filmed scenes for The Tourist, as well as the palace where Marco Polo was supposedly born. We passed the Rialto Bridge, which was anticlimactically smaller than I expected.

We later explored Piazza San Marco and walked through St. Mark’s Basilica before checking into our hostel, A Venice Fish. I must say that the greatest stories from this weekend stem from our hostel experience. The guy running the hostel was a young dude with shoulder-length curly hair named Nick, born in Italy but raised in Wisconsin, with a fascinating life story. Nick showed us to our room through sliding doors, right off the main room. The seven of us girls took seven beds; the eighth was occupied by a friendly guy named Mike from Los Angeles.

We explored the city more during the day, going in and out of little shops between the numerous canals. We spent a lot of time searching for inexpensive Carnivale masks that would suit our distinct personalities and styles. On one street, I spontaneously decided to dance along to some accordion music. A tall guy in a dark mask took my hand and started swing dancing with me, right there in the middle of everything!

In the evening, we attended the hostel’s dinner, which included all-you-can-eat pasta and wine. Afterward, we joined a large group that was going to a local club. Nick claimed the place was “authentic Venice” but it was really the worst kind of crowded and the worst kind of hipster. Still, the night wasn’t a waste. I met Jean from Brazil, who spoke only Portuguese and French. Since his English was poor, we conversed in French the whole night! I’m ecstatic that my five-plus years of French class have actually paid off.

Saturday, we set out to find boat passes that would get us to the glass blowing and lace making islands of Venice. With the massive crowds, and stopping in stores along the way, it took us several hours to even make it to Piazza San Marco. There, we had further difficulties buying our boat passes. We eventually made it onto a boat headed for Murano (the glass-making island), where we lifted our spirits with gelato and coffee.

After indulging, we perused the dozens of tiny shops, each filled with distinct styles and forms of glass. I bought a dazzling bracelet with matching earrings! The island was extremely calm and serene in comparison to the main island of Venice – it was exactly what the seven of us needed.  Fun fact: glass blowing was restricted to the island of Murano in ancient times to prevent glass blowing-related fires from happening on the mainland. Thanks, Rick Steves!

Then we went to Burano and meandered through a few lace shops. The patterns were intricate and handmade with a delicacy you won’t find in the U.S., where things are sloppily mass-produced. Unfortunately everything started closing around 6:30 p.m. and the island got eerily quiet and creepy. We got on the first boat back to St. Mark’s. Our next objective was finding food.

Maureen led us to a Rick Steves-recommended restaurant next to the Rialto Bridge, where we enjoyed spaghetti, lasagna, and red wine. The streets were packed with the craziest array of costumes: everything from children dressed as Spiderman to a heard of bananas. We drank some succulent hot sangria in a little alley-cove next to a main street, while watching people walk by and jamming to the American music blaring from the Sangria stand. After a group of men dressed in priest costumes gave up on either trying to convert us or flirt with us (I’m still not sure which), we went back to the hostel. Insanity ensued.

Nick was taking a group of people to go out again; three of my friends and I decided to join. I mistakenly assumed we’d be going to Piazza San Marco to join the Carnivale activities. We walked for a long time, following the group past all the places we knew, turning right when we came to the edge of the island and traipsing down a long boardwalk that was suspended from the side of the buildings. At the end was a small bridge guarded by a stern looking and troll-like security guard who was doing bag checks. We riddled past him, wound through a building dotted with guards and police, and exited onto a pier, which held a colossal elephant sculpture and an enormously regal swan. The scene somehow proved that this was a big deal. There was a massive crowd gathered, but rather than tourists, it consisted of local Venetians and young students of all nationalities. It was evident we’d been given access to the real underground Carnivale party. Three lines later, we made it into the warehouse-turned-club just before midnight.

There were two rooms, each with a DJ. The atmosphere was wild. Music blared, accompanied by dizzying colorful lights, and almost everybody wore a mask. By the end of the night, there were people walking around in 10-foot-tall flamingo-creature costumes.

We made it back to the hostel safe and sound and crawled into bed around 3:30 a.m. Thirty minutes later, our fellow hostel residents threw a loud party in the lobby outside of our room. It made us all the more glad to check out the next morning.

In Calcio news, team Celeste remains undefeated! Ole!

Conciseness isn’t my specialty, so thanks for reading y’all. A dopo!

Hello friends!

I know it has been quite a while but I wanted to write when I actually had something to update you all on. It has been a few weeks since I last wrote you and I will say that I do feel more at home in Rome, not completely because I still get so incredibly lost, but we are taking baby steps!

For the month of February my friends and I have been taking it easy and decided to stay in Rome and explore. Many JFRC alum have said that so many people travel to other cities in Europe that they often neglect the city that we live in. My friends and I wanted to avoid that, so we thought staying here for the month of February would be a good idea and I fully support our decision.

Friday

Friday Torie, my friend, and I went back to Florence for round two. We both loved Florence and if you didn’t catch how much I really loved Florence, check out my first post about it!  This time around things felt different, we did not feel like complete rookies but what would a trip be without some rookie mistakes? We started off our day going to the infamous Gusta Pizza, supposedly the best in Florence. It was good pizza but I will say not entirely sure what the hype is all about (don’t hate me for saying that!). Everyone who goes gets a number ticket and I guess the tradition is to sign it and insert it into the table. So following on trend, we did and it was quite a struggle getting it in the table but it was success!

The first time we went to Florence we found a bag market and our hearts filled with glee. This time we found another bigger market and my heart pretty much exploded. Nothing a little retail therapy can’t fix!

Saturday

On Saturdays, we go to the opera! I have never been to an opera before so I was not entirely sure what to expect but it was beautiful. We went to Tosca at Teatro Dell’ Opera and it was a dress rehearsal and the first show that they had.  Being able to get a little dressed up and just casually go to the opera on a normal Saturday really proved that I was in fact studying abroad in Italy. Being able to see a proper opera house and the costumes and set was quite an experience. I feel so cultured and so Italian.

Till next time!

-Lindsay

Hi readers!!

Last weekend a few friends and I hopped on a bus ( and then that bus hopped on a train, passengers and all ) and scooted over to the Netherlands for a few days in Amsterdam!  The trip was a bit of a hot mess. We hit the worst traffic our driver had ever seen on the way there, got rained on nearly the entire time, remembered we aren’t cut out for the 4am bedtime, and were subjected to the splash zone of a highly intoxicated traveler who barely stumbled through border control.

BUT we did get to see the Anne Frank house, which I have been waiting to do since I left Amsterdam in 2010, appreciate the very photogenic canals, try over thirty kinds of cheese, ingest approximately a million stroopwafels, watch a man blow water out of a freshly carved clog, take a million wet photos, try bitterballen (essentially fried gravy) and sleep in beds that may or may not have been handcrafted from the clouds (at least compared to our London beds 😉 ).

Our time in Amsterdam was in no way smooth sailing, but it certainly was a weekend I will never forget!

  

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On the way home, we spent the day in Bruges.

This little town was everything I’ve ever wanted out of Belgium and more. Not only did we go to a Frite Museum and learn anything and everything about the origin of the French fry/ chip/ frite/ slice of salty heaven, but we also got our own cone of authentic frites slathered in mayonnaise to enjoy as we admired the city.

Bruges itself was covered in painted buildings, horse drawn carriages, cobblestone (my poor feet), waffle stands, and history! I saw one of Michelangelo’s only sculptures housed outside of Italy, Madonna of Bruges. Then, we sprinted up the 366 stairs of the Belfrey tower for some aerial shots (my poor legs), and then promptly sped back down to get a Belgian waffle. And did we ever- those waffles are every bit as delicious as they look!

Overall, a wonderful place to spend the day and I would go back in a heart beat!

     

 

I have lots more to tell you next time, so stay tuned!

Megan

I spent the weekend in Paris. It still seems surreal…I’m in a comical state of shock about it.

I’ve dreamed of going to Paris ever since I began learning French in middle school. And finally, over the weekend, I lived that dream, and it ended entirely too quickly. It was absolutely magical in the most unexpected way…in the sense that it was magical in literally every way.

I went with 7 friends from the Rome Center, including one friend from my French class freshman year of college, Melissa. It was wonderful to discover Paris for the first time together! We left early Friday morning and I read a Paris travel guide while listening to my favorite French tunes during the 2 hour flight.

When we arrived, we went straight to the apartment we rented through AirBnB. Embarrassingly, there were issues communicating with the janitor about getting the key — and then separate issues getting the key to work — but finally a kind resident named Guillaume who spoke a little bit of English helped us assuage the janitor and find a working key to the flat.  It was a flat in the 20th arrondissement of Paris, a dingy artist’s apartment that had a ladder leading to a tiny loft with two mattresses laid out on the floor and rugs covering up disconcerting stains on the carpet. We settled in and set out to find the Eiffel Tower. On the way, we stopped at a cafe and I ordered an obligatory croque madame, which was obviously delectable. The French waiters laughed at us, as was to be expected.

We traveled on, turned a corner, and there it was: the Eiffel Tower. I rattled off facts I’d learned from Rick Steves’ audio tour iPhone app as we stood beneath the massive arches that curved into the tower’s legs. We first went up an elevator to the second floor, which was surprisingly extremely high above the city, and then transferred to another one that took us to the top. I stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Looking out over Paris. (This is still sinking in.) Any of my friends can confirm that the biggest, most dazed smile remained plastered across my face the whole time. That is, except for the times I got a little teary-eyed. I’m an emotional person. We could see Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Seine River, Sacre Coeur, the Arc de Triomphe… all that I’ve been reading about for years, finally laid out in front of me. From above, Paris looks like a dollhouse. The buildings, white and pristine, and some a complementary grey, are delicately decorated but not overly grandiose. The sun was setting and the Eiffel Tower’s long shadow folded itself over a multitude of buildings. I’m terrified of heights but forgot about my fear when I looked out over the magnificent city of lights. It’s no wonder so many of the greatest writers found their inspiration in Paris…Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Stein. Ah, mon coeur.

So after going to the Eiffel Tower, and taking some fantastically crazy Ellen-style selfies with it (“Elfies”), we walked along the Champs Elysees, a mile-long street filled to the brim with luxury in all forms. Lamborghini’s, fashionable people, the highest-end stores. The Arc de Triomphe crowned the end of the street with a yellowish glow, the flashes of cameras twinkling from the top, where tourists stood. We savored macaroons of various colorful flavors at Laduree and then had dinner — sandwiches, escargot and wine, for most of us — to end the physically exhausting (and, for me, emotionally exhausting) day.

The next morning we went to a Boulangerie down the street and got baguettes for breakfast. We skipped all the lines for the Louvre and got in for free because we’re studying in Europe. Basically, we were VIP status. We saw many wonderful works of art, including a couple of Monet pieces, but I have to say I most adored seeing Napoleon’s tiny bed and artifacts from his palace. Outside, we took pictures with the pyramid, walked through the Tuileries garden, and held pigeons. A few of my friends wanted to go to Chipotle, a commodity to us since there are none in Rome. But obsessed with immersing myself in anything and everything Parisian while I had the chance, I opted instead to go get crepes. Bri and I ordered a crepe salee (ham, cheese, and egg) and a Nutella Banana crepe to split between the two of us. Yes, they were divine. No, I’m not the same person as I was before. It was so French. Sitting in a cafe, eating crepes, chatting about life and people-watching. Paris, take me back!

 

 

Next, we went to La Cure Gourmande, a chocolate shop near the opera house, where they gave us samples and I conversed with the employees in French. And then we went to Galleria Lafayette, a grandiose shopping center with seven floors and clothes that were slightly hundreds of dollars out of my price range. We had a fun time perusing the French fashion– and I even found something lovely for under 30 euros! We went up to the roof and looked out over the city, with a view of the opera house, the Eiffel Tower, and the Arc de Triomphe. I really could never get used to that view. From inside, in a glorified food court, we watched the Eiffel Tower’s light show. Each of us gasped when it began — the tower sparkled, covered in thousands of shimmering lights. Even watching through a window, it was magical. For dinner, we ate at the apartment. Derrick and Advait made pasta and grilled cheese (made with Gruyere), that we paired with wine. While they cooked, we studied for our theology midterm exam, like the responsible students we are. It felt so right, being there with a great group of friends, chatting and eating dinner together in our Parisian flat. It was like a heartwarming scene from an indie movie. We went out later to Rue Mouffetard, which was recommended to us by several people for its nightlife. There, despite the rain, we found a crowded bar where everyone was drinking the same Belgian beer and we learned a bit about France’s gay culture, to put it simply. A little ways down the street, we danced in a club where the basement was a series of caves and they played extremely outdated American music. “Play that Funky Music” and “Boogie Wonderland” were big hits among the strangely mixed crowd of people. At the end of the rue, we found a chic lounge-bar, where we talked for a while and tried not to fall asleep in the assorted comfortable couches and chairs.

The next morning, I bought a cream-colored beret and we visited Notre Dame. Naturally, as cultured college students, we took more Elfies with it and Nick impersonated the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I was really excited by the flying buttresses, which I remember giggling about in French class many years ago. Honestly, though, the church was gorgeous. It stands out among all the other buildings not only because it’s massive and on and island, but because it’s bravely dark and gothic. Inside, next to a statue of St. Theresa and Joan of Arc, I felt moved to pray for the first time in a long time.

Then we ate more crepes. On the other side of the river, we went to Shakespeare and Company, a quaint little bookstore. Upstairs, in the attic, I eavesdropped on an English-language writing class, taking notes on their prompts and tips. I felt like I had found a place where I could belong in Paris; I imagined myself living there, attending that workshop…the future felt possible. Ironically, right after having that profoundly inspiring moment, I bought a book of Sylvia Plath’s poems that were written in the three years leading up to her death. C’est la vie.

The group split up for the last few hours of the day; we were all trying to squeeze in the last things we wanted to see and accomplish. A few of us went to the Musee D’Orsay, which was once a train station but was converted to a museum. This makes the interior of the museum fascinating in and of itself. We saw Van Gogh’s second Starry Night, as well as his self-portrait. I saw a Picasso painting (and laughed at loud at his comical style — not sure if that was the intended effect, but it is what it is), and lots of impressionist paintings including works of Renoir and Monet. I stood mesmerized, looking at Monet’s water lillies, letting the flecks of color envelop me in the serenity that Monet himself must have been feeling. I felt truly present. Often, my mind is a thousand different places apart from where I actually am. But not at that moment. I was completely there, in Paris, standing in front of one of the most famous paintings in the world.

Next, four of us split off to make a mad dash to Montemarte, wanting to squeeze it in before meeting everyone else back at the apartment. We didn’t know if we would make it in time, but after dozens of flights of stairs and a lot of power-walking, we finally made it to Sacre Coeur. From the top of Montemarte, we took in a last breathtaking view of the city. A man was playing guitar and singing “Hey There Delilah” in broken English with a thick French accent. The immense domes of Sacre Coeur, just as I’d heard, billowed into the sky like clouds. That moment was the peak of the trip. Making it to Sacre Coeur under a time crunch and physical strain was a microcosm of my lifelong dream of visiting Paris, in a way. Because nothing incredible — nothing worth working for — has ever been easy.

To make the end of our trip perfect, though, we had to make it to Moulin Rouge. I used my mad French skills to ask for and receive directions, we ran past a plaza filled with artists and down a hill, and finally we turned onto the Grand Boulevard that had an astounding number of risque cabarets. We saw the Moulin Rouge’s appropriately red windmill from a distance. In front of the building, Kelly, Bri and I donned our rouge lipstick and posed happily as Advait took our picture. I had one final delicious crepe (the most delicious of any I’d had over the weekend) from a nearby crepe stand, and we made it back to the apartment to meet everyone at exactly 5 p.m. The perfect ending.

The only thing I’m truly bummed about is that I didn’t get a chance to lean over in a restaurant and say to a Parisian, with a smirk, “Bon Apetit,” as Rick Steves highly recommended. Oh well…next time.

Paris, you can bet your baguettes that I will return! Tu me manques et je t’adore!

 

 

 

 

 

With a stuffed backpack and bus ticket in hand, (and by in hand, I mean on my phone because it still takes me way to long to figure out the printer on campus) I headed off to Dublin on Thursday afternoon. While I was extremely excited to visit Dublin, I didn’t have much on my list to see, I had tickets to see the Book of Kells and go to the Guinness factory, but apart from that, I was just ready to explore. Luckily, I had the best tour guide sitting right next to me on the bus ride down. My friend Marypaz, had actually interned in Dublin for about 2 months a year and a half ago. While she didn’t have the city completely memorized, she did know what places to hit up, Irish friends to meet up with, and was ready to share it all with me.

Thursday night we arrived in our hostel where we quickly realized how spoiled we were in Amsterdam. In our Dublin hostel, we had no table or chairs, the wifi wasn’t that awesome, but the most awkward thing of all was that there were 3 strangers in our room with us. However, we chatted with them for a bit when we arrived, it was a French couple and a guy from Brazil who is currently living in Amsterdam, so we learned that they were cool, aka we could leave our backpacks in the room and not lock them up. That night we met up with two of Marypaz’s Irish friends, Shane and Conor, who brought us to a more local Irish night club where we were able to dance the night away (literally the night away since Savannah and I left ‘early’ at 3:30). We also were able to snag a Captain Morgan t-shirt that a worker was handing out and make the walk back with no trouble whatsoever.

We woke up early on Friday, and while the rest of our group went to the Guinness Factory, Marypaz and I went all around Dublin. We went shopping on Grafton Street, visited Trinity College, Saint Stevens Green, the Dáil Éireann (the house of Parliament), the National Museum of Ireland, Dublin castle, and Saint Patrick’s Cathedral. During our activities we were also able to squeeze in a lunch in a cute cafe and drink a cuppa in Dublin Castle. My favorite stop of the whole day was probably the National Museum where we were able to look at bog bodies. Bog bodies were bodies of people who have been thrown into the bogs in Ireland usually as a sacrifice of some sort. The bodies we saw were from 200-400 BC and yet, you could still make out the fingernails on their hands because the bogs are able to preserve the bodies so well. We even saw their hair. It was super cool and I took pictures at the beginning, but in the end, I felt a bit queazy and had to stop. Marypaz and I also wanted to tour the Dáil but we missed the tour times, so we could only stand outside and stare at it. However, everything else we did was very fun and exciting and after we met up with the rest out our friends, we geared up to go out to Temple Bar. Note: Temple Bar is not just one bar, it is a street of many different clubs and pubs, and it is also very touristy, it’s not exactly a place that the locals hit up on the weekend. We did have fun though and made it back to the hostel in one piece so we could be up and ready for another busy day.

Saturday was equally as busy. I woke up and went to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells and the old library. All I can say about that exhibit is WOW. It sounds cheesy, but it was so beautiful and impressive I was seriously blown away both by the artwork of the book and the history behind it all. One of the most interesting things for me was that the Book of Kells was made around 800 AD and in 1661 the book was given to Trinity college by the Bishop of Ussher. To me, it was amazing to think about how in 1661 the importance of this book was recognized and at such an early time, and the steps were made to ensure that it was preserved all the way until now. But not only was the Book of Kells magnificent, but the old library in Trinity college was mind-blowing. Fun fact: the library in Harry Potter was actually modeled off of the old library in Trinity, so that should give you an idea of how beautiful it was. I think that if this was the library I could actually study in, I may complete my homework in a timely manner.

 

 

After the Book of Kells, I was able to take a different tour of Dublin. Savannah, Marypaz, and I actually took a bus to the outskirts of Dublin to a place called Howth. Marypaz had previously said that her favorite place in all of Dublin was Howth so I knew that was definitely going to be something to check out. When we arrived, we met up with Shane, who was going to be our tour guide for the rest of the day (tour guide being taken very lightly). We looked out into the coast at Howth and walked around for a bit before the rain caught up with us. Luckily for us, Shane had managed to borrow his dad’s car for the day so we were able to be chauffeured around to see all these little suburbs outside of Dublin. We were able to see a castle in Malahide, try Nandos (a super good chicken place that isn’t in Cork), drink a couple of pints, and relax with great company.

 

My final day in Dublin was exciting because at 9am I was able to see my roommate and Chicago buddy, Alyssa. Alyssa flew in and arrived early on Sunday so as soon as she dropped her stuff off at the hostel I was staying at, I had to fill her up with an Irish breakfast, and then go to the Guinness factory. Pretty much ensuring she would be aware that she was in Ireland within the first few hours (plus it rained half of the way there, in case she wasn’t sure).  After the Guinness factory, we stopped in a little pub for lunch where we were able to watch the start of the Ireland vs. England rugby game (Ireland won btw) before we had to head off to the bus station.

Overall, my weekend in Dublin was fanatic. One interesting aspect about Dublin though was when I was at Dublin Castle and Trinity, I noticed pig statues all around the place. For all of my Cincinnati readers, you will know why I thought this was so funny. But for everyone else, in Cincinnati there are statues of flying pigs all over the city (the Cincinnati marathon is even called ‘The Flying Pig’) so I saw a little connection between my home town in Dublin. Another realization I came to when I was in Dublin was how happy I am that I am studying in Cork. Visiting Dublin was extremely exciting and it reminded me a bit of Chicago– both major cities, but because of that it made me recognize how safe Cork is. Cork is much smaller and more centralized, and while I have never walked home by myself in Cork, I would feel completely safe doing so. That means for people who say that Dublin is so much better than Cork, have you even been to Cork? Both cities are very different, but I am happy with my choice.

Finally, Marypaz and I are already planning a trip back to Dublin. I didn’t realize how much there was to see in Dublin until I was there and leaving. We hope to go back again in April and have a political tour of Dublin. We want to try to tour the Dáil, go to Arbor Hill cemetery, Croke park, and any other place we can squeeze in. Hopefully this happens because the more and more I learn about Irish politics, the more I want to visit all of these historical places. I also have to mail my postcard from the GPO which I was unable to do this past weekend (and yes the postcard is written to me, so it can wait to be mailed, I’m not going to be home anytime soon).

That’s all for now! This coming weekend– Kerry (aka I better get to hold a lamb)

p.s. look at this super cool picture of me touching the bullet holes on the GPO (great post office) where shots were fired at the 1916 Easter Rising. I was probably way too excited than I should have been.