Under the Tuscan (and German) Sun

As I sit here in my kitchen trying to gather my thoughts from the past couple of weeks, I don't even know where to begin. So much has happened since my last update, and I'm afraid this post won't be any shorter than the last one...in fact, I'm almost positive that it's longer. (Oops!) So without further ado, I will try to adequately summarize the past two weeks.

Florence

When I left off last time, Caroline and I were getting ready to go to Florence for the weekend. And what an adventure we had! We took the bus from Siena late Friday afternoon and got to the Florence station around 6. We had planned to meet up with Caroline's cousin Monica at the Duomo, so as soon as we got off the bus we started asking for directions. An American couple overheard us and told us that they were headed to the Duomo too, so we could just walk with them. (Yay for new friends!) When we got to the Duomo and realized just how gigantic it was, we had no idea how long it would take us to find Monica. Luckily it took all of 10 seconds because she was on the same side that we were on. At the time, I certainly took for granted how nice it is to be in the right place at the right time (more on that later). 

Once we met up with Monica, she helped us find our hostel (and by "helped" I mean she found it for us- we would have been wandering around Florence all weekend if it hadn't been for her). The hostel was nicer than we expected--after our little adventure at the "b&b" the weekend before, we were prepared for pretty much anything. After dropping our stuff and getting the wifi password (like I said last time, the power that wifi has over us is insane), we headed out for dinner. We meandered around for a little while (one of my favorite parts about being in a new city) before happening upon a trattoria called Mamma Gina. I had ravioli with cream sauce and it was absolutely delicious--I had to restrain myself from licking the plate. After dinner, we walked around some more near the Ponte Vecchio and somehow ended up at a gelateria--funny how that happens! Although I tend to consider myself pretty indiscriminate when it comes to gelato--I don't believe that "bad gelato" even exists--I have deemed this gelateria my favorite. After all traces of our heaping cones had disappeared, we decided to call it a night. 

The next morning, we met Monica at the Accademia, home to Michangelo's David. It never ceases to amaze me how certain works of art are universally recognized and revered. The Accademia also features plenty of other paintings and sculptures, but everyone who visits is there for the same reason: to see the David. As excited as I was to see him (I also find it amusing how everyone refers to a statue as an actual person), I wasn't sure if he would live up to the hype. Well let me tell you, he certainly did. I know I'm probably the millionth person to say this, but I have never been as awestruck by a piece of art as I was by David. It's absolutely a must-see if you're in Florence (especially now that they're moving it underground soon because of his apparent "weak ankles"). 

After admiring Michelangelo's handiwork, we went to the Duomo. We explored the whole thing from bottom to top (literally--from the crypt all the way up to the dome). I've discovered that another one of my favorite things to do abroad is climb to the top of churches (or any building, really) where I can see the entire city. It was quite a hike, but oh so worth it-- the view was magnificent, and we also got to walk around the circumference of the dome from the inside (warning: not for the fearful of heights). Once we were back on the ground, we decided to start the search for Gusta Pizza, which I had been told by multiple people has the best pizza in Florence. After eating there twice now, I can honestly say that it's the best pizza I've ever eaten (and I've had some pretty good pizza). We all got pesto pizza, and it was simply divine. Something I've realized since being in Italy is that the best, most authentic Italian food doesn't require very many ingredients. Don't get me wrong--I love Italian food in America--but here they don't have to add anything to give the food more flavor because it's already so good by itself. I've already come to terms with the fact that Italy is quickly ruining me for pasta, pizza, and cheese. 

Ok, I'll stop torturing you with my descriptions of food. After we had all eaten our entire pizzas (there is a common theme developing here--we don't like to waste food, so we are simply left with no choice but to eat it all. It's really hard), we walked around the Ponte Vecchio area a little more and then went back to the Duomo. We went to the Baptistery of St. John, which has a magnificent ceiling, covered with depictions of various Bible stories. It was amazing! I know the Sistine Chapel probably has the most incredible ceiling, but I am still so in awe of any church with painted ceilings--they're all pretty impressive to me. After the Baptistery, we said goodbye to Monica and then met up with Erin, one of our good friends who is studying in Florence this semester. Caroline and I were pretty worn out from walking around all day, so we went to a café with tables outside where we could sit and talk. After catching up with Erin and drinking the most expensive diet cokes ever (everything around the Duomo is overpriced), Caroline and I went to the Uffizi Gallery. I was overwhelmed by how vast it was. There is room after room after room of paintings and hallway after hallway after hallway of sculptures. Two of the most popular paintings at the museum are Botticelli's Birth of Venus and Spring. They were both beautiful, and while it was so neat to see two world-famous paintings that I had only seen in textbooks before, I couldn't help but wonder why it is that certain works of art are so celebrated while others go all but unnoticed. Furthermore, I kept noticing now so many people seemed to come see these paintings for the sheer purpose of taking a picture of them. I'm certainly no art aficionado, but I think it's important to actually look at these masterpieces, to see with our own eyes what it is that makes them masterpieces. I sometimes find myself guilty of doing the same thing when I see things that I particularly want to remember. But what I've realized this semester, as I'm getting the opportunity to travel to such culturally rich places and see such amazing sights, is that so often our experiences would be all the more richer if we weren't so quick to put a lens between ourselves and the actual thing or place that we're trying to capture. (I just rambled about that for a lot longer than I had intended...I'll get off my soapbox now.) Once Caroline and I finally made it out of the Uffizi (and I say "made it out" because that place feels like it goes on forever), we met up with Erin for dinner. And after dinner we did something completely unexpected and out of character...we got gelato!!! (I like to keep my readers guessing!) As tempted as we were to hit the clubs (definitely kidding), we once again called it a night and planned to meet up with Erin the next morning so she could show us around the city some more. 

The next morning, Erin took us on a walk that ended with yet another spectacular view of Florence (pictures to come). After lunch, Caroline and I said goodbye and headed for the bus station to get the next bus back to Siena. Or so we thought. We ended up wandering around the train station for what felt like hours (in reality it was probably about 45 minutes or an hour), asking people for directions to the bus station/where to buy tickets. No one was helpful--and I'm really not just saying that. We have met some very kind and helpful Italians, but unfortunately none of them were at the Florence train station that day. We finally found the bus station, bought our tickets, and collapsed into our seats. We then proceeded to cry from exhaustion, frustration, and because it was Sunday so we knew that our families were getting ready to go to church. Mid-tears, we started laughing because of how ridiculous we must have looked. As frustrated as I was with our struggle to find the bus, I was so thankful that we had each other. It truly was a bonding experience. 

Munich

This past weekend, we hopped over to Munich for Oktoberfest (among other things). I really didn't know what to expect from Munich-- I had heard from multiple people that it's a great city, but I just had to experience it for myself. 

A little backstory: this summer, I booked an apartment in Munich through Airbnb. All of the hotels close to the Oktoberfest grounds were either already booked or ridiculously expensive, and I'd had friends use airbnb in the past so I decided to try it out (yay for adventure!) Our flight out of Florence wasn't until 8 pm so we had basically all day before we had to be at the airport. So naturally we got to Florence early so we could go back to Gusta Pizza. And once again, it didn't disappoint. Moral of the story: Gusta Pizza is always a good decision. 

We ended up getting to the airport super early because this was our first trip out of Italy, so we thought it best to air on the side of caution. If you've ever been to the Florence airport, you know that it's not necessary to get there 3 hours early because you can see pretty much everything there is to see in about 10 minutes. But something I've learned while being abroad is that it's definitely better to be safe than sorry--especially when it comes to travel.

We landed in Munich at 9:15, and as soon as we got off the plane we happened upon a grocery store in the middle of the airport. It had everything (read: Nutella and pretzels). After we were sufficiently stocked up for a late night snack and breakfast for the rest of the weekend, we started searching for the train that would take us to our airbnb. Fast forward 2 1/2 hours later-- we finally made it to the apartment. I will spare you the details, but basically I am the worst with directions, and Helen and Caroline are the best at staying positive in frustrating situations. When we got to the apartment a little after midnight, Günther, one of our gracious hosts, was waiting up for us. He was as nice as he could be and showed no sign of irritation that we were so late. Such a gem. He also didn't speak very much English, so it meant even more to me that he treated us with such kindness despite the language barrier. The next morning, we met his wife Kerstin, who was just as lovely. They told us how to get to the Oktoberfest grounds--and even wrote out the directions so we would be sure to change trains at the right stops. It also helped that Oktoberfest is the world's largest fair, so it would be difficult for us to miss the millions of people headed in the same direction. But even so--for those of you who know my sense of direction (or lack thereof)--it would not have been surprising if I had somehow still managed to get lost. Thankfully, I was with Caroline and Helen, and between the three of us we found it (hallelujah!!) 

Oktoberfest was truly like nothing I have ever experienced before. I actually had no idea that it's an actual fair with rides and everything-- which was why I was so confused on the way there when I saw so many kids headed toward the grounds. I kept thinking how irresponsible their parents must be, until I realized that the beer tents are only one part of the whole Oktoberfest experience. Which brings me to the next part of our adventure: navigating our way through the Hofbräuhaus tent. It was quite the sensory overload. There were people everywhere-- sitting at tables, standing on tables, blocking pathways, pushing their way through the pathways...you get the picture. But probably the funniest/most disconcerting part was the incessant screech of whistles, which signaled the arrival of the beer maids carrying as many beer steins as humanly possible. It was insanity. We finally made our way to the back of the tent and found the gathering of Wake people. It was so much fun to see friends who are all studying abroad all over Europe-- and also so surreal that we all were at Oktoberfest together. After spending about an hour on the Oktoberfest grounds we decided it was time to move on (call us lame, but we were ready to see more of Munich). Caroline, Helen, Leslie (one of our friends who was ready to leave too), and I bid Oktoberfest auf wiedersehen and started exploring. We happened upon a church (St. Paul's) and decided to peek inside (another one of my favorite things to do abroad: check out all of the old churches). There we ran into two other Wake girls who were also wanting to explore Munich. The six of us ended up spending the rest of the day together-- it was such a blast! I so enjoyed making new friends from Wake while in Germany...I love that traveling lends itself to such happenstances that most likely would have never occurred otherwise. 

For the rest of the day, we explored Munich. We went to the Englischer Garten (German for English Garden...and I didn't even have to use google translate for that one!) which is kind of like Munich's version of Central Park. It was beautiful--I love finding green spaces in the midst of big cities--and quite the contrast from the Oktoberfest grounds. It was also a prime people watching location--there were runners, walkers, bikers, soccer players, picnickers, and boaters of all ages. We even saw a wedding! We then proceeded to Olympiapark, where the 1972 Olympics took place. On the way, we spotted a Starbucks and of course had to stop. I know that by now I should have developed an appreciation for Italian coffee and should have been able to resist, but that pumpkin spice latte had my name written on it. After our little detour (so worth it), we continued on to Olympiapark. From there, we had the most phenomenal view of Munich--in addition to the beauty of the park itself, you could see the fusion of the old architecture with the new-- which was absolutely spectacular. 

By the end of our self guided tour of Olympiapark, we were all pretty exhausted and decided to call it a day. After we said goodbye to the rest of the group, Caroline, Helen, and I started the hunt for dinner.  We ended up at a quaint little authentic German restaurant for dinner: the Hard Rock Cafe. Yes, you read that right. We went to the Hard Rock Cafe in Munich. I know we probably should have been a little more adventurous with food on this trip, but earlier that day I had a soft pretzel and Helen had a bratwurst...so that counts as our authentic taste of Germany, right? I had been craving a burger for the past week, so when the opportunity arose I jumped at the chance. (It was certainly no Chez Fon Fon, but it did the trick). It's funny because I don't really eat burgers very much in the US, but there's just some aspect of human nature that makes us want things exponentially more when we know we can't have them. As you can tell from my earlier descriptions of food, it's not like I've been suffering over here. I just really wanted that burger. 

The next morning, we packed our bags (which consisted of a backpack each-- needless to say, we were pretty proud of ourselves for traveling so lightly), said goodbye to Kerstin and Günther, and headed back to the Munich city center to meet up with Kelly (another girl from Wake who is doing the same program with us in Siena). The four of us went on a bus tour of Munich--it was great because we got the whole top level to ourselves! Party bus!!! (Not exactly, but it was a fun way to see some of the sights!) After the bus tour, we got lunch at a Mexican restaurant across the street. No, you don't need to rush out to get your your vision checked: I had a cheeseburger and quesadilla in Munich in the same weekend. It was maybe the most mediocre quesadilla I've ever had, but the guacamole definitely made up for it. (It's the little things.) After our little fiesta, we went to St. Peter's Church, hoping to climb to the top for another awesome view of the city. Alas, it was closed until 3, and we were kind of on a time crunch so we had to keep moving. 

We then said goodbye to Munich (at least for the next few hours) and took the train to Dachau to visit the concentration camp memorial site. What an incredible experience. I know it's cliché, but it truly is difficult for me to put into words what it was like to walk through it, a place rife with such unspeakable tragedy. Even thinking about it now--less than a week later--it feels surreal that I was there. After learning about the horrors of the concentration camps in various history classes, it's still impossible to be prepared to actually visit one. I wish I could adequately describe what it was like--it was heartbreaking, inspiring, and so powerful. While I was devastated by the evil that had taken place here less than 70 years ago, I was also struck by the resiliency of the human spirit. As I walked through the gates, into the barracks, and around the circumference of the camp, I was reminded of John 1:5, which says, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." Despite the darkness of Dachau, despite the heaviness that I felt while walking the grounds, I could also feel a sense of hope--a realization that while we will never forget about what happened here, we can cling to the knowledge that good will prevail over evil. I know that I will never be able to come close to understanding what it must have been like to endure the horrific brutality of a concentration camp, and I also know that I am not the first person to have this kind of experience at Dachau or come to these conclusions. So even though I know my thoughts about it are in no way revolutionary or original, I'm still continuing to process my own experience. Thank you for bearing with me. 

We left Dachau after spending about 2 1/2 hours there-- and I still didn't get to see the whole thing. I was amazed by how quickly the time passed. I really could have spent all day there. If any of you have the chance, I urge you to go. It's an experience that I will never forget, and I will forever be changed because of it.

Planes, Trains, and Unexpected Taxi Rides 

You will soon understand why I'm giving this part of the weekend its own section. It was quite the saga. Or adventure...depending on which way you want to spin it. Our flight left Munich at 9:30 pm on Sunday, and we were scheduled to land in Florence at 10:50. After doing some research before our trip, we discovered that the last bus from Florence to Siena was at 9:15. However, the last train was at 11:08. Because we all had class the next morning, we really wanted to get back to Siena that night. Our backup plan was to spend the night with some friends who are studying in Florence, but we all would have had to sleep on the floor and get up at the crack of dawn on Monday to catch the bus. Thus, we developed a plan: as soon as the plane landed we would sprint off as quickly as humanly possible (our motto: "be assertive!"), get a taxi to the train station, one of us would pay the taxi driver while another one of us bought the train tickets, and then we would all sprint as fast as humanly possible to the train. It was a seamless plan. Miraculously, we made it to the train station at 11:01 and--with the help of some understandably perplexed TrenItalia employees--got on the train with 10 seconds to spare (not an exaggeration). Now at this point (if you've stuck around long enough to read this part) I'm sure you're probably thinking, "What is this 'saga' you're talking about? You made it on the train...stop being so dramatic!" And to that I will say: you've got a point there with the dramatic thing, but this story is not over. We had to change trains in Empoli (a sketchy little town about an hour and a half from Siena), but we weren't too worried about it because we had changed trains in Empoli a couple weeks ago on our way to and from Marina di Pisa. We were pros (or so we thought). We got off the train and immediately started looking for the train to Siena. It was nowhere to be found. We frantically ran from platform to platform trying to find it, getting progressively more anxious because we only had 5 minutes in between train changes. Out of nowhere, a man started waving at us from across the station and pointing outside. We figured out he was trying to tell us that it was a bus to Siena, not a train. And it had just left. The man laughed at us and disappeared into the night (I'm really playing up this dramatic thing-- but he actually did laugh at us which was not greatly appreciated). So there we were, stuck in Empoli with nowhere to go. The next train wasn't leaving until 6 am (the current time was midnight), and we were not about to spend the night in that station. After a brief freak out session that basically consisted of us all asking each other, "What do we do?!?!?", Helen called the emergency number from our program. We all agreed that this situation definitely merited the use of the emergency number. As Helen talked to the student services coordinator, the rest of us sat waiting with bated breath (I've never really understood what that saying means, but I feel like it helps create suspense). When Helen got off the phone, she said that there was a taxi on the way to take us back to Siena. We collectively breathed a sigh of relief. We were actually going to make it out of Empoli. A few minutes later, a taxi pulled up to the train station and you would have thought we were being picked up by a stretch limo. It was such a welcome sight. I'm sure the taxi driver thought we were all crazy--especially when on the way back to Siena we started singing a medley that included "Home on the Range," "My Country Tis of Thee," and the Genovia national anthem (Princess Diaries, anyone?). I honestly have no idea where any of those came from--we were pretty delusional at that point and just ready to be back in a familiar place. At long last, we arrived in Siena. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see those medieval walls. 

Looking back on the weekend, I can't believe that all of that happened in a 72 hour period. Munich is such a cool city--and I'm so glad we got to do other sightseeing in addition to experiencing Oktoberfest. And even though the trip back was not at all what I would have chosen, I'm realizing that things like this are bound to happen while studying abroad--it's all part of the experience, right? I'm only three weeks in and it's already been such an adventure. I'm learning to be more flexible and to surrender control, because I know that no matter where in the world I am, God is going before me every step of the way, and His plans for me are so much greater than anything I could even begin to imagine. 

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21

Here are a few pics from the past couple of weeks. If you want to see some really good pictures, check out Helen's blog: http://helenkemeny.blogspot.it/. Ciao for now!