I'm still here!

Buongiorno, faithful readers! (That's "good day" in Italian...as you can see, I'm putting it to good use!) I have been meaning to get this post up for awhile now (as in 3 weeks), but time is a tricky little thing that just keeps slipping away from me. Some days I find myself getting frustrated because I'll look back on what I did, and many times it consists of going on a run/walk, going to class, and cooking dinner (and if it's Monday, going to the grocery store...can you tell that I like structure?). And while each of those things is important, I find myself asking, "But what did you actually accomplish?" (Yes, I also talk to myself.) I'm a list maker, and I tend to find fulfillment in feeling productive-- and I'm realizing that this semester is going to (and already does) look different in that regard. While I most certainly don't feel that I'm wasting my time, I'm having to learn that there are chapters of life in which I will feel more productive or accomplished than others, and that's okay. I'm learning that my one of my purposes this semester is exactly that: to learn, but in a different sense than what I'm accustomed to. Here, I'm learning about independence, other people, and new cultures in ways that I never have before (I know...classic study abroad cliché right there). But enough rambling...now for the update:

Cinque Terre

Three weeks ago, Caroline's parents came and it was wonderful. (Not the same as having my own parents come, but still pretty great.) Since this is the first time I've been abroad without any grown ups, I realized when the Dodds came that there's just something magical about the arrival of parents--even as a 20 (almost 21) year old, it's so nice to be able to relax and allow yourself to be taken care of every now and then.

Cinque Terre was one of the most beautiful places I've ever been--the views are absolutely unlike anything I've ever seen before. We went hiking through four of the five towns, and it felt like we went on at least three different hikes because of the diversity of the scenery. We went from trekking through vineyards (from which we may or may not have snuck a few grapes), to passing cacti and giant rocks, to becoming enveloped by the lush forest--all while staying in sight of the Ligurian Sea. And speaking of the Ligurian Sea...I highly recommend a post-hike swim there. And also a jump (or two or three) from the rocks into the water. 

Some other highlights:

How do you say "War Eagle" in Italian? 

After our hike on Saturday we came back to Monterosso (the town where we were staying) for lunch, and I spotted an Auburn flag outside one of the bars on the main street. I did a double take because as big as the Auburn family is, I really wasn't expecting to see any of its members in Italy (or in Europe at all, for that matter). I went inside to ask the bartender about it, and I had scarcely gotten the word "Auburn" out of my mouth when he gave a hearty "War Eagle!" in a thick Italian accent. Now those are two words I certainly didn't expect to hear this semester. "War Eagle!!" I responded--and he proceeded to explain that the owner of the bar had an ex-girlfriend who was from Auburn, and while they were dating he became a big fan. I was at first intrigued by the fact that he remained a fan despite breaking up with his girlfriend, but I decided that his passion is just a testament to the Auburn spirit. 

The Piano Man

On our first night, we were walking to dinner through a tunnel carved out of rock--it truly amazes me how it's possible to even create such a thing--and we heard piano music coming from the other side. I was convinced that it was a recording until we reached the end, where a jovial older man was playing "River Flows in You" by Yiruma (one of my go-to study playlist tunes). I'm realizing as I'm typing this that it doesn't make for a very exciting story, but it was one of those moments when I felt like I was in a dream. And then to top it all off he played "Beauty and the Beast" (so naturally Helen, Caroline and I started singing), and I felt like we were living in a musical. Dream. Come. True.

All You Need is Love and Wifi

This was on a t-shirt that we saw in one of the towns, and as you may recall from our wifi antics of previous posts, we got a huge kick out of it. 

As hard as it was to leave Cinque Terre, I went back to Siena feeling so rejuvenated--by the scenery, the people, and of course the drip coffee at the hotel. (I must confess: traditional Italian coffee is still too strong for me, but I'm working on it!)

Vienna

Two weeks ago, we went to Vienna, Austria, where we stayed with some of Caroline's relatives, who were absolutely delightful. On our first night there, they made us a traditional Viennese dinner which included three different kinds of sausage, roasted potatoes, grilled vegetables, and carrot bread (a new favorite of mine). No matter where in the world you are, there really is nothing like a home cooked meal. After dinner, we went into the city center for ice cream and walked along a canal by the Danube. It was so much fun getting to see a little bit of Vienna at night, and it made me that much more excited for the next day's adventure. And oh boy was it an adventure...

What's the Haps(burgs)?

Something I learned in Vienna: the Hapsburgs basically owned everything. Also, why can't we agree on how to spell their name? Hapsburg or Habsburg...someone please settle this once and for all! We went to the Kunsthistoriches Museum (translation: Museum of Art History), which houses the Hapsburgs' art collection (and by "collection" I mean literally thousands of artifacts and works of art). It reminded me a lot of the British Museum, but what I just couldn't get over was that everything in it belonged to a single family. And we didn't even come close to seeing the whole thing! After almost two hours we had to move on--since being abroad I'm gaining a new appreciation for the saying "so much to do, so little time."

We then made our way to the Imperial Treasury, where the Crown Jewels are on display. The jewels were pretty neat, but my favorite part of the exhibit was the narwhal tusk. I have no idea what it was doing there amidst all the crowns, robes, scepters, and chalices, but it was awesome.

Later that afternoon we went to Schönbrunn Palace, the summer home of (guess who) the Hapsburgs with (get ready for it) over 1,000 rooms. We didn't actually go inside, because multiple people had suggested that we explore the gardens instead, and after the grandeur of both the Kunsthistoriches Museum and the Treasury, I'm not sure if I could have handled any more Hapsburg paraphernalia. Plus, the gardens themselves were pretty spectacular. We spent almost two hours just walking around and exploring--a perfect end to the afternoon before what the will go down in history as The Great Opera Adventure (more on that in a bit). 

Not your average iced coffee

A fun fact: "ice coffee" in Vienna means a scoop of vanilla ice cream with espresso poured over it and whipped cream on top. And let me tell you, it is heaven sent (feel free to jump on the bandwagon any time, America). I stirred mine up until it basically became a delicious coffee milkshake--I'm not sure if that's what you're supposed to do, but with no Cookout to be found in Europe, I had to improvise. 

Opera(tion) Complete

Flashback to Saturday morning, on our way to the Kunsthistoriches Museum. We were slightly bummed because Helen had tried the night before to get standby tickets to the Viennese Opera (which we heard was amazing) for Saturday night, but they were sold out. We were disappointed but determined to find something else music related to do (when in Vienna, right?) As we were en route to the museum, we were stopped in the city center by a man selling tickets to a "philharmonic orchestra concert." And get this--he even offered to give us a discount!!! I know what you're thinking: Sarah, this is obviously a tourist trap!!! What were you thinking?? Answer: I wasn't. It wasn't until we had each forked over €29 that I thought to myself, There's a good chance that this is a total scam. But by then it was too late. Scam or not, we had tickets to some sort of concert at 8:00 that night. Clearly, we were desperate. So with tickets in hand and the with whole day ahead of us, we tried to convince ourselves that this was a good idea and "even if it wasn't the opera it was still a musical performance in Vienna, so it had to be good, right?" 

Ok, now flashforward to 7:30 that same night. We found ourselves outside the Palffy "Palace." (Whoever was responsible for deeming that place a palace was seriously misinformed about the definition of the word.) We walked up a flight of stairs to a lobby area with peeling paint, fluorescent lighting, faded carpet, and a mandatory coat check, where I was required to leave my jacket and pay a fee. It felt like the Gatlinburg of Vienna. We were shown to our seats (meaning that we were pointed in the general direction of a cluster of chairs), and we sat down in humiliation. After staring at each other in disbelief, we made a pact then and there to tell no one of this major faux pas. Now (once again) I bet I can guess what you're thinking: But Sarah, you totally broke the pact by revealing your secret to the world via your blog!!! And to that I will say: keep reading because this story is far from over!!! (I'm sorry if you were hoping that this would be a short post...I'm sure you've learned by now that that is rarely, if ever, the case when it comes to this blog.) So there we were, sitting in not-quite-folding-chairs-but-maybe-one-step-up, waiting for the performance to begin. Just as we were wondering if there were actually any performers, the "orchestra" came onto the "stage" (yes, I realize that I've been using quotation marks quite frequently in this story...but trust me, they are justified), which consisted of 4 violinists, a flautist (flutist? flute player? You get the idea), a cellist, and a pianist. Oh and the stage? Try "slightly raised platform." I know this probably sounds like a major exaggeration, but you have to take my word for it when I say it isn't. The musicians were actually pretty good--except half of them looked so miserable about being there, and the cellist kept scanning the crowd trying to make eye contact with anyone who glanced in his general direction. And then the dancers. Oh, the dancers. I am certainly no ballerina myself (or any kind of dancer for that matter), but from my limited knowledge I could tell that this was a little less dancing and a little more hopping around. You get the gist: we had indeed been scammed. At intermission, we all looked each other, thinking the same thing: it was time to bid the Palffy Palace so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good night. But don't worry--the fun didn't stop there, because at that very moment Helen was struck by a brilliant beyond brilliant idea (Parent Trap anyone?): we try to get into the opera.  

After rescuing my jacket from the dreaded coat check (and assuring the dismayed attendant that yes, we were in fact leaving), we high-tailed it out of there faster than you can say "Mozart." Luckily, we weren't far from the opera house. Unluckily, we were two hours late and sneaking in proved to be more difficult than we had anticipated. Contrary to what you may have believed, they don't just let you waltz on into the Viennese opera house to see if there are any open seats. We were stopped by not one, not two, but three different ushers, who informed us that the opera was indeed sold out that night. Helen, being the actress in the group, pretended that we were sisters and our mom was inside waiting for us. The ushers didn't buy it, I certainly didn't help matters given that I am terrible at improv. 

At that point, I was ready to admit defeat and call it a night. My pride was still wounded from what I will now refer to as Incident That Shall Not Be Named, and I was not about to risk getting arrested for sneaking into the Viennese opera (I'm not even sure if you can get arrested for that, but you just never know). But Helen could not be deterred. As a singer, she had dreamed about getting to see the opera in Vienna, and she was not about to give up. So naturally we made our way to the stage door on the side of the building. After we had been standing there for about 30 seconds, a woman with two small children came out. While Caroline and I waited by the door, Helen stopped the woman and asked her if there was any way we could have her tickets. She told Helen that her husband was performing in the opera, and she would have taken us backstage but her kids were tired and she was taking them home. But she also said that we should wait for the break that would be happening at any minute and try to ask people for tickets then. So we developed a plan: Helen would stay by the stage door, while Caroline and I would man the front entrance, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting opera aficionados. 

As people started coming outside, Caroline and I scanned the crowd for anyone who looked like they had had enough opera for one night. Caroline spotted a trendy 60-something couple who appeared to be leaving and asked them if there was any way we could have their tickets. They were as nice as they could be and said absolutely we could! I asked if we could pay for them and they refused (and thank goodness they did, as you will see momentarily), telling us to enjoy ourselves. After they had walked away, I looked down at the tickets in my hand: €175 each for 11th row orchestra seats. Caroline and I looked at each other in disbelief. We just scored orchestra tickets to the Viennese opera for free. But the hunt wasn't over yet-- we needed one more ticket. It was at that moment that I decided to muster up the courage to ask someone for a ticket. I had been the least assertive person in the group thus far on this little adventure, and I was ready to change that. I saw a couple who looked like they were leaving. This is it, I told myself. This was my moment, my time to shine. I approached them and politely asked if they were by chance leaving. They both gave me perplexed looks, and the man scoffed at me: "No...?" As in, "How could you even ask such a thing?" Shot. down. I shook it off and searched the crowd again. Much like Charlie Bucket in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, I was going to get that last ticket. I saw yet another couple who looked like they were leaving and decided to go for it. Second time was the charm! They were indeed leaving and gave us both tickets, telling us that we might not want them because they were in the nosebleed section. I was so overjoyed to have gotten any tickets at all that I didn't care where the seats were. All that mattered was that the three of us were going to get into the opera (and with a ticket to spare, at that)! 

Caroline and I raced to find Helen and practically threw one of the orchestra tickets at her. I'm pretty sure we weren't even speaking in full sentences: "Here! Ticket! Orchestra! Go!" Helen put the pieces together and disappeared into the opera house. Caroline and I followed and started making our way up the stairs. On the next floor, there was a bar/cafe area where opera goers were drinking champagne and looking fancy in their evening gowns and tuxes. Luckily we were wearing dresses, but compared to everyone else we might as well have been wearing sack cloths. We walked up to the bar and saw that they had glass bottle Cokes. So naturally we got them, because that's what you do when you've just gotten free tickets to the Vienna opera during intermission. After relishing the experience of drinking Coke from a glass bottle in the Viennese opera house, we continued up the stairs in search of our seats. They were indeed in the nosebleed section, but the way we were acting you would have thought we were on the front row. Is this actually happening? we both wondered. Less than an hour ago we were leaving a sham of a performance, humiliated at our own naïveté, and now here we were in one of the most famous opera houses in the world. The opera itself wasn't really my cup of tea. Don't get me wrong, the singers and the orchestra were both phenomenal--but for me, the best part was the thrill of the hunt and the satisfaction of victory. Oh, and the glass bottle Coke (which I kept as a memento). 

Back to the Present

Currently I'm sitting in Morbidi, our new favorite place in Siena. It has paninis, not-too-strong coffee, tables with chairs (which is a rarity in Italian cafes) and wifi. I call it my Italian Camino (shoutout to my favorite coffee shop in Winston-Salem!) We've just finished midterms and are heading to Paris tomorrow for the first part of fall break. For the second part, Helen is going to Dijon, France, where one of our friends is studying abroad for the semester, and Caroline and I are going to Barcelona. It's hard to believe we're at the halfway point...in some ways I feel like I've been here forever and in others it seems like the time has just flown. There have been so many ups, downs, and just plain crazy adventures that haven't even made it to the blog, and I think that's one of the reasons why I have such a hard time with putting my thoughts into words: it's hard to know where to even begin! There are so many aspects of living abroad that I could (and want to) share, but I would be sitting here forever, typing the night away...and given that I'm the last person left in Morbidi right now, that might be frowned upon. So I will close with that, because 1. I think the employees are starting to wonder if I'm ever going to leave, 2. this post has gone on long enough, and 3. I just remembered that I forgot to take my laundry out. 

Thanks for bearing with me...ciao for now!