May 16

There is a famous bar in Florence called The Lion's Fountain that is overrun with American stud abroad students. Partly because of the karaoke, partly because of the walls covered in college paraphernalia and writing, and partly because it is situated next to a late night kebab stand to help normalize (cough cough) blood alcohol levels. The large group of us from UNC took to the walls with permanent marker and made sure that UNC wouldn't go forgotten. There were a few Duke t-shirts and for these Tar Heels, that simply will not due.

May 15

Farewell cooking class! After mixing up last week when I had my written final and my practical final, I knew today I would be making tiramisu. Yes, that's right, I showed up to class expecting to cook for my practical and was shocked when I was handed a written test. The stuff of nightmares. At least today I knew what to expect! My group had to prepare, plate, and present our dish to a panel of 3: our cooking professor, an owner of a local cooking school, and a previous student of my professor who is now a professional chef. Pressure was on! The dish is very simple and straightforward, though. We didn't have any problems! I can't wait to make this at home for my family. After the tasting, the dish was criticized for lacking a strong enough coffee flavor, but was praised for being the most beautifully plated in the class. My cooking professor--Annamaria--said farewell with a jar of homemade jam she prepared as a bon voyage. What an awesome class. 

May 14

The beautiful Giardino dell'Iris, hidden below Piazzale Michelangelo. Only from May 2 to 20, the Iris Garden of Florence opens to the public. A quick internet search told me that it was free to the public. Everything is in full bloom and the gardens seem meticulously maintained. I walked to the gardens after class. I had trouble finding them at first. There weren't any signs or markers, but I spotted flowers below the Piazza and I decided to figure out how to enter. I followed a hidden sidewalk and pushed my way (literally) through a gate. I thought something was a little strange--there were people (all elderly) having what seemed like a catered lunch. No one said anything to me, so I continued on my way, pausing to sit on benches to take it all in. As I continued walking and feeling more and more out of place, a woman approached me and said (in English), "The gardens are for society members only!" My age gave me away! I, without thinking, chose to play dumb and acted like I didn't speak English, looked confused, and began to walk towards the exit. Seems like I interrupted a fancy society luncheon! Thanks for sharing the gardens with me Iris Society!

May 13

Our UNC "farewell" dinner. We finally were able to all get together as a group to say our "goodbyes" and reflect on this semester. We met at Zaza's--a restaurant 20 yards from my apartment that is absolutely massive and could accommodate our reservation of 24. I have so enjoyed getting to know these people better and look forward to having lots of "Remember that one time in Florence?" conversations with them on campus next year. 

May 12

Another check off of my Florence bucketlist: attend a soccer game! Florence's local team is called the Fiorentina. It is common to see their purple jerseys on the backs of locals. The stadium is about a 40 minute walk outside of the city center. The game was wild! Tons of chanting, flag waving, exaggerated groans followed by elated screaming. Stadium food of choice for the Italians? An "authentic American" hotdog smothered in mayonnaise. At halftime, though, it began to pour. Never have I seen rain like this in Italy. I took shelter under the stadium. After it was apparent the rain was not going to let up and the game was called, our group decided we should call a taxi to get a ride back to the center. The taxi companies simply stopped answering their phones because of the high volume of calls they were getting. I got soaked. I ended up getting on a random train that was on its way to Santa Maria Novella and got back to the city that way. I banked on the fact that tickets would not be checked for a such a short ride. Phew!

May 11

Ain't no reunion like a PDS reunion cause a PDS reunion don't stop. Why oh why must I get ready to head home after I have established the perfect Saturday schedule? Today was filled with the things I love: new things, a leisurely trip to the market, a run through the Arno, a movie with my roommates. The new things consisted of going to my roommate Alex's ballet performance. She is a brave soul and took a dance class at LdM (unfortunately, me and my two left feet would not enjoy that class one bit) and all of the art and performance classes showcased their work on Via Faenza. The street was filled with student art of all kiinds and even featured a fashion show. Kelsey and I shopped around the Ponte Vecchio area before watching a movie to rest our tired feet. I ended the day by meeting up with my old friend Marian. Marian and I went to middle and high school together and she will be spending the beginning of her summer in Spain. Florence is one heck of a way to begin a study abroad program. 

May 10

Today I had the pleasure of checking out Giardino dell'Orticultura after a great tip. The gardens are located way north of the city center in the Fortezza Basso neighborhood. I felt like a real local walking there because it is totally out of the "tourist zone." The gardens are essentially a huge public park. There were college-students sitting in grass playing instruments, moms chasing after wobbly toddlers, co-workers gossiping on benches over panini, plus one couple locked in the most aggressive public make-out I have ever witnessed (spring must be in the air!). There is also a glass greenhouse-looking building that seems like it could function as a venue for events. It was stunning. After getting some sun in the grass, I made it just to my apartment as the sky opened up and it started to pour. Perfect timing if I do say so myself. 

May 9

Scenes from Thursday Squared in Palazzo Strozzi. After going out for some dinner with Alex and Kelsey, we heard music inside Strozzi. On the second Thursday of every month, they put on an evening for "art in all its forms." There was a cool band playing, tons of young people having drinks and aperitivo, and an art piece about travel. We were asked to take a green and a red arrow (pictured above) and to place the green arrow on the place where were are from and the red arrow on the place we want to go. I couldn't believe how many people were from outside Italy! I put my red arrow on Australia. I'll start practicing my accent now. 

May 8

Today, I began my hunt for the hidden gems of gardens in Florence. I have a few on my list that I want to visit before Dooms Day, I mean, when I head home next Saturday. I had heard of the Bardini Gardens, but had yet to pay them a visit. They are across the river near Piazzale Michelangelo. Though connected to Boboli Gardens, Bardini had a totally different feel. It was quiet, secluded, and much more lush. Kelsey and I, naturally, had a long discussion about whether we would want have the gardens as our wedding venues. I am laughing at myself as I type that. We were drizzled on, but took refuge under the awning of a cafe embedded into the gardens. It was a perfect afternoon. 

May 7

Today I did a lot of thinking about love. You know the old adage that if you love something, you ought to love it wholly, the good and the bad? Well, as I was finding myself getting angry at the throngs of people blocking my path on the way to class or the woman on the street who was angry at me for not understanding her question ("Dov'e la foto? Dov'e la foto?" She kept yelling. It means "Where is the photo?" in Italian. I understood her Italian perfectly, but how on earth do I give directions to a photo?!), I began thinking about whether or not I loved Florence. Deep in my heart, I know that I do. I simply have to accept it in all its glory--good or bad, touristy or not touristy, clean or dirty, loud or quiet, cold or warm. That would be true love. 

May 6

Convitto della Calza. Tonight, LdM hosted a farewell dinner for all students at an old convent turned banquet hall. It seems like just yesterday I was going to the welcome dinner! Remember how I was totally underdressed? Where on earth does time go. 

May 5

The Italian Alps. We departed Trento this morning and drove up, up, and away to Madonna di Campiglia where we would be meeting our Alpine guides for a scenic hike. The weather was b-e-autiful and perfect for a day on the slopes. There was no shortage of breathtaking views of snow capped mountains. Part of our hike actually was still covered in snow! It was strange to have cold legs in snow and a warm body on top. I only fell in once! It was incredibly peaceful. Neither of the guides spoke English and I actually enjoyed just hiking in solitude and letting the nature speak for itself. I like traveling to new places and doing something. I can only take so much sightseeing and "oohing and ahhing" at the pretty buildings. That's why I loved today! I didn't just see the Alps--I hiked them!

May 4

What a morning. Today, I went on my final trip with my school.  We would be checking out Verona, Lake Garda, Trento, Madonna di Campiglia, and taking a four-hour hike through the Alps in only two short days. The buses were leaving at 5:50 this morning. As my sleepy self was walking out of the apartment with my suitcase and iPad in hand, I completely fell down the stairs, denting my iPad, hitting my head, and smashing my sunglasses in my purse. The day could only go up from there, right? Verona reminded me of a circus town: there was a collection of street performers and tents, all obsessed with providing spectacle for the tourists. The city never let you forget that it was the setting of Romeo and Juliet (Romeo e Guilietta). Did you ever see the movie Letters to Juliet? Oh, no? I'm the only one? Juliet's "house" is famous for the statue of Juliet (rubbing her breasts is supposed to bring you good luck in love), a balcony where light through yonder window breaks, and a collection of letters to Juliet asking for long-lasting love. The letters were pasted all over the walls, as you can see above. If there is one aspect of humanity that is the same no matter what country you are in, it is the desire to have love. After taking in my fill of street performers, we boarded the bus again to Lake Garda: a playground for wealthy Europeans. The water was crystal blue (putting Lake Norman to shame) and had majestic swans swimming throughout. I sat on a bench with a cone of mango gelato taking in the sun on the shore. Anyone jealous? After a traffic-halting 20-point turn on our charter bus, we arrived at our hotel in Trento for the night. It is a college town known for its local beer.We had a great dinner (provided for by the trip) in the hotel. I walked around the city center and saw Trento's duomo before hitting the hay.

May 3

Last day of cooking class before our final! Bittersweet as the chocolate we sprinkled on our cannoli this morning. We had Wednesday classes today to make up for our day off for Labor Day. We had to prepare a traditional Italian dish and put a "twist" on it. My group decided to take a stab at cannoli and twist the traditional recipe by using espresso in lieu of wine. We ran to the market to pick up some fresh ricotta for the recipe, too. It was fun rolling the cannoli dough and frying them in special cannoli shapers. Next week, we have our practical final: we will make a dish and present it to a panel for judging! Someone call Padma and Tom, we have an episode of Top Chef on our hands. 

May 2

This swanky clothing store was built on top of the original walls of Florence. Isn't the glass floor cool? Shopping on top of history. 

May 1

Busted. Today, I finally checked eat at All'Antico Vinaio off of my bucket list. The panini shop is rated as the number 1 restaurant in Florence on TripAdvisor, so naturally I had to check it out. The shop is tiny and most people grab their panini and eat on the curb out front. They have "serve your own wine" for 2 euro where you simply pick up a glass and give yourself a pour from a bottle at the storefront. It has an awesome environment! Lots of happy people, sitting on the street with giant panini and sipping wine. The focaccia crisp and salty, paired with lovely roasted vegetables and fresh made ricotta. Well, I am busted because I forgot to bring my phone. I asked Kelsey if she had taken a picture at lunch. She told me she snapped one of her sandwich, but told me I shouldn't put it on the blog because it has salami on it. Caught in a blog fakeout! Also, I should have eaten fifteen panini to wish Kevin a happy 15th birthday! 

April 30

Tonight, Florence was lit up with the biannual Notte Bianca. The "White Night" is where all stores and bars stay open until 6am the next morning. Most Florentines make it their goal to stay out all night. Because May 1 is Labor Day and most people have off of work for the holiday, everyone is responsibility-free. All of the piazzas have some kind of cool art exhibit or live music. In this photo, my roommates and I are in front of Santa Croce. The entire piazza was filled with these huge paper mache blimp animals. Piazza Signoria had a platform with around 50 (adult sized) swings on it that rung bells as people rode on them. It was like Mardi Gras! The streets were packed with happy (and drunk) people. Italy does not have the same open container laws we have in the US. That means it is totally Kosher to roam the streets while taking swigs from an open bottle of wine. We were laughing at the high school aged Italians out and about. We could tell they thought they were so cool being out late with the crowds. It led to a hilarious conversation about what we thought was cool in middle and high school. Soffe shorts with rolled elastic, Abercrombie "Beach Babe" t-shirts, Juicy sweatpants with writing on the backside, and Ugg boots. It was an awesome night. 

April 29

Ahh, the glorious return of food-related posts! Today, I woke up to an email inbox full of bad news and the reality that there is a world outside of Italy sunk in a little too deeply. I will be on US soil in no less than 3 weeks and I am already feeling the pressure of making the transition. Add a pop test in Cinema class into the mix and you have created one sour Monday. I did what any girl does to help her feel better after a long day: baked. Well, sort of. I made do with the ingredients I had on hand and made a batch of granola. See that heavenly orange glow of the oven? Toasted my stress, just like it toasted those almonds. 

April 28

Blue? Or red? The addresses in Florence are designed to throw you for a doozy. They follow a color "system" (I use system loosely) where blue numbers correspond to residential addresses and red numbers to businesses and the like. The blue and red numbers do not go in order, either. That means that blue 8 could be next door to red 43. Also, street signs are posted on the sides of buildings on small plaques. So, to find out what street you are on, you must crank you neck to find the plaque, halting all pedestrian traffic. The street system was enough to make my poor Grandma proclaim, "There is no way I could ever be on The Amazing Race!"

April 27

Being one with the fishes at Acquario di Livorno. Livorno is a small beach town close to Pisa. Alex, Ashton, and I hopped on a train this morning and checked it out. The aquarium was packed with families trying to avoid the stormy day outside. Livorno itself was the opposite--a little desolate! We struggled to find an open restaurant for lunch. A shortage of restaurants in Italy? Say what? Otherwise, it was a great day. The beach was lined with characteristic Etruscan pebbles and the water was filled with the most adorable single-person sail boats. I love the spontaneity of day trips!

April 26

Today my social media world was overwhelmed with photo posts of the beautiful Old Well. Spring looks good on UNC and everything is in full bloom. It is the last day of classes--LDOC--for my Tar Heels. That means that this afternoon, all the libraries will be empty and bars will be full. I have great memories from ghosts of LDOC's past and I'm sad to be away from campus today. My mood, though, was brightened with this flower shop. It's almost as pretty as the Old Well. Almost. 

April 25

What is it about uniforms that look more like Lego characters than police officers that just screams authority? I have alluded to the hilarious police costumes--oh I mean uniforms--on the blog before. Don't they look like they bought them from Party City for Halloween? These officers casually stroll the streets of Florence. The only times I have seen the officers spring into action is to help a confused tourist with an outstretched map. Perhaps I should be comforted in the fact that the city does not feel the need for a more military-esque police force, but for now I will laugh.

April 24

Capturing this city one gratuitous photo at a time. Incredibly, I did not edit or filter this photo in any way. I am still going strong on Dad's blog challenge! Do any of my dear readers have any other challenges for me?

April 23

My 100th post is dedicated to my Italian professor, Daniele. Not that I would ever pick favorites when it comes to my professors, butttttttt if I had to choose, Daniele would take the cake. Doesn't he just ooze coolness? I will have you know that behind that sly smile of his lies a tongue ring. Yes, you read right. I appreciate his desire to always shake things up in class, mostly for his own, egomaniac enjoyment. My essay for my Italian midterm? Write about what you think I do on the weekend. Class assignment on adjectives? Write a story about me and my girlfriend. He gives the greatest impressions--my favorite being the study abroad girly-girl speaking Italian, closely followed by the Italian preschooler.We had to take this photo 3 times because the first he didn't like his smile, the second made him look too short, and finally he approved of the third. Through all of his craziness, I have learned an incredible amount of Italian in such a short period of time. I credit Daniele with my ability to navigate the cities and peoples of Italy. Grazie, Daniele. 

April 22

San Lorenzo Market. Have you ever been watching a movie where there is some persistent image or theme that keeps coming up that relates perfectly to the characters' lives, but it goes unbeknownst to the character? I can't be the only one that has had that moment of wanting to yell, "It's right in front of you!" Anyways, I've always wondered if there is divine symbolism within our own lives, too, but we are too wrapped up in the immediacy to notice. Let me explain. Today in my literature class, we read a number of short memoirs by immigrants living in Italy. We went on to discuss immigration and how the "others" are perceived within Italian society. It is no secret that the Italians are strongly tied to their heritage and often view change as a threat to their rich culture. Immigration, really first beginning in the 1980s from Northern Africa, is a new, somewhat frightening phenomenon to the Italians. Our landlord made it abundantly clear that no overnight guests of any kind are allowed in the apartment. This is a federal law, designed to crack down on people that house illegal immigrants. Most immigrants work the jobs you would expect. Many are street vendors, janitorial staff, food stand owners, or kitchen staff at restaurants. I have sensed how uncomfortable (I am struggling with word choice and remaining somewhat politically correct) Italians are around immigrants and foreigners. I have had professors stretch the corners of their eyes to refer to Asian people and had the most professional of tour guides stop to say how unsightly he found German women. Racism, though prevalent in every society, is very pronounced here because I sense there is no shame in harboring these feelings. Back to symbolism in our own lives. While walking home from literature, thinking of our discussion, I witnessed a yelling match between a group of African purse vendors and Italian leather vendors occurring in San Lorenzo.  Would you imagine that. What timing. It was uncomfortable--people were staring and other men were trying to forcibly separate the groups. I wasn't sure what their fighting words were, but I am confident that the argument would have been very different had it been between two Italian vendors. There you have it: the movie of my life. At least I noticed the connection!

April 21

Now that I have updated you all on the sounds of Florence, I thought it was only appropriate to give you the sights of Florence. You may be thinking, "The sights of Florence? All of your photo posts are the sights of Florence." Well, I am here to tell you that there are, in fact, two Florences. One Florence is the glamorous art city, tipsy on pleasing tourists, and indulging us in her sophisticated churches and museums. In a way, Florence "for tourists" is a facade; a city designed to be an adult playground. The second Florence is the real Florence--where people live and breathe their normal lives and view tourist season as the price one must pay to live in their home city. I think clotheslines are the best metaphor of the "second Florence:" they are hidden away from the street's view (as dictated by law), they are unpretentious, they are simply a no nonsense necessity. But, upon closer inspection, the clothesline is more telling about the culture of Florence than any Rick Steves travel guide could ever reveal. It shows us how the people--not the people saying "Hello Lady Gaga American, do you want an umbrella?"--truly live. I believe that the greatest travelers are the ones that seek to learn how the other half--the second half--go about their days. 

April 20

There is not a huge homeless population in Florence. There are a few beggars and gypsies that frequent the same spots in areas where tourists with fat wallets fresh from the currency exchange tend to be. Unlike in America, they tend to stand and approach you with a jingling change cup, saying "Buonasera!" (Good evening). Italian men almost always put something in the cup. I've always wondered why. Generosity? Social convention? But, it still throws me for a loop to see them reach into their pockets as they pass the beggars. It is so drilled into our American brains to not give money to homeless on the street (for a number of questionably legitimate reasons). Today, I saw a hilarious interaction ensue--a visual representation of the clash of the haves and have nots. Across the Ponte Vecchio, there are a number of high-end, fancy hotels overlooking the river. Now that the weather is nicer, they are starting to hold a number of weddings. Outside one of these hotels, there was a well-dressed family with the cutest toddler aged son. I assumed they were attending a wedding because they were dressed up and had their son in a baby suit featuring a miniature bow tie. The boy was a ball of energy, running and playing with the precious jerky, uncoordinated movements of a two-year-old. He was all over the place, unable to stay still. Well, all hell broke loose when he ran over to a homeless man, stole his change cup from the ground, and began shaking it like a marracca. I have never seen two parents sweep in so fast. The homeless man was completely unphased. I couldn't help but laugh!

April 19

Vulgar, or hilarious? Today, I finally saw Michelangelo's David at the Galleria Accademia. Never in my life have I had a visceral reaction to a piece of art--until today. For one, the statue is huge. I had no idea it was so large at 516 cm tall. The detail is remarkable. I stared at the hand's of David for no less than five minutes. It truly seemed like he could come to life at any moment and say "Gotcha!" to all of us. (Hey, I see the makings of a Hollywood blockbuster here). It was incredible--and that says a lot coming from my neck of the woods. Michelangelo, I tip my hat to you. 

April 18

After getting back to the apartment after classes today (this was actually easier said than done--someone's key broke off in the door to the building, leaving me stranded and desperately buzzing upstairs hoping somone could let me in), I just wanted to talk to my dad! I miss his humor and it had been awhile since our last father-daughter banter session. He gave me a blogger challenge: one week without mentions of food or being cheap and especially no mentions of being cheap with food. So, today, I am titling this post "The Sounds of Florence." Now that spring is in full gear, every window in this air conditioning-lacking city has been opened! Unpredictably, because all of the buildings are so close to one another and are made of stone, I have been hearing a wild mix of voices, music, singing, cooking clatter, accordions, arguing couples, couples in love, saxophones, Adele's "Skyfall," and the nonsense that the pub below my bedroom puts on every night. The open windows paired with the echoes bouncing off stone leads to loads of ear entertainment.

April 17

What a treat. I am at a loss of words. Literally! I have spent the last 5 minutes staring off into space trying to come up with a pun about socks being knocked off. Anyways! Today, my cooking class went out to lunch. It was my kind of field trip. We went to a restaurant tucked in an alleyway behind the Uffizi called Ora d'Aria because my professor is friends with the head chef. We each had to pay 30 euro to attend. For the girl that scoffs at 2 euro gelato, I thought the price was pretty steep for a meal for students. Little did I know, the meal was heavily discounted and a person off the street would have paid no less than 90 euro for the meal. Fancy, schmancy. Upon sitting down, I placed my purse next to my chair. Within seconds, a waiter brought out a small stool and placed my purse on it for me. We were seated in a private room downstairs. Get this. All of the plates were sent to the basement on a food elevator that opened near our table. Get out of town. A food elevator! I can't wait to tell you about the menu. The meal started with a bread basket with three choices of bread: a salty rosemary, traditional, and yeasty rolls. Our glasses were constantly being filled with beer! Strange not to have wine. The first course was my favorite (upper left corner): farro stewed in port wine, topped with a poached egg and pancetta powder (for the meat eaters). It was sweet and savory. My lord, I wanted more! Next, we had a creamy chickpea soup with squid ink (lower left). I was horrified that some unadventurous students wouldn't try it with the mention of squid ink. Live a little people! Next came tagliatelli stuffed with tuna in a broccoli sauce with creamed cheese. Interesting dish. Served very al dente. Next, was the most beautiful piece of cod, poached in olive oil, topped with a pea puree. Took me straight to the Cape. Then, my phone died. I am only getting around 2 hours of battery life. Our dessert course was called "The Experience" and was a conceptual dish meant to symbolize the different soils of Tuscany. It had four elements: a lime gelato, a granita, powdered and sweetened cocoa, and a hazelnut foam. The four parts were served in a round bowl and we were instructed to swirl our spoons around to get some of each element before tasting. Wow. Loved it. The lime and chocolate were a surprisingly great pair. We ended with espresso. This meal was incredible! We were able to thank the chef on our way out.

April 16

Being abroad in the wake of an American tragesty has been eye-opening and humbling. I was watching my Twitter feed yesterday afternoon, enjoying updates and oogling about the winners of the Marathon. Within a matter of minutes, as you all know, things changed and I was glued to CNN.com for more information. Today, every one of my professors took time to give his or her condolences and to make sure we were aware of the situation. I found this both comforting and touching that tragic events, though far away, bring pause regardless of national identity. As I ran the route nearest and dearest to my Florentine heart this afternoon, I was shocked to see that the American embassy had been entirely taped off and there were more guards out front than usual. Something inside of me left me wanting to yell, "Take care of my country!" Today I saw just how much American news, culture, politics, events, and happenings come to affect the world. We do not exist in a vacuum. Rest easy knowing that many thoughts are flowing across the Atlantic and into the Boston Harbor on this day.

April 15

Upon arriving in Florence, I was shocked--almost offended--at how Italians seemed to shove their way through the streets. Am I so touristy, so American-looking, so un-Italian I don't even warrant a "Scusa?" Now, I understand why the Italians are pushy. They are simply sick and tired of making their way through the masses when they have somewhere to be. Today, I was running late for my literature class (totally my fault, I was sucked into reading blogs and lost track of time), so I needed to high-tail my way to class. My usual 15 minute walk seemed to double, as I had to bop and weave through groups of slow-moving yet overzealous tour groups taking photos of the Duomo. I even brushed shoulders with a few people and found myself wanting to yell "Move people, move!" Does this make me rude? Or just embracing of the Italian culture? What has Florence turned me into?!

April 14

Biking through the Chianti region on the most beautiful day in Italy since arriving in January. Kelsey, Alex, and I booked a bike tour for the weekend upon seeing (and squealing) the weather report. High of 74, no chance of rain, and winds only at 1mph. With that kind of forecast, it would be sinful to spend the day indoors. We met our guide and group in the city center and then we were transported by van to the touring company's Chianti headquarters to get bikes. Our guide was a character. Joseph was from Australia, came to Italy on a whim, swore like a sailor, and had an opinion about everything. He was spitting facts, dates, and names left and right during the tour, leaving Alex and I joking that he was making everything up and tourists' gullible ears would never know the difference. The ride was a combination of challenge and leisure: after winding and grinding our way to the top of a hill, we rested our sweaty-selves and tired booties and took in the sights. Cute Alex made the effort to say "Boungiorno!" to every person we passed while biking. We stopped for lunch at a winery (specializing in Chianti wines) and had a dual wine tasting (I completely preferred the 13 euro bottle to the 28); potato, beet, and chickpea salad; leek risotto; and pasta with a cheesy ragu. Kelsey was killing it with her wine knowledge today. Every question Joseph asked (What kind of grapes make Chianti? What is the meaning of this label? How do wineries produce a rose?), Kelsey knew the answer to! Coincidentally, there was a couple on the tour with us from Colorado with a daughter who just graduated from Chapel Hill. It was strange to see the UNC emblem on the dad's baseball cap! We ended the tour with a gelato stop and the three of us had fun providing restaurant recommendations and giving our Florence two-cents. A great day, through and through. Tomorrow, may be a different story though. Those bikes are tough on the glutes, if you catch my drift. 

April 13

From left to right: Kelsey, Gillian, Tara, some blogger chick, Alex. I am a total hypocrite. Remember just a few days ago when I was blogging about how my early semester urgency to do as much as possible had returned? Today was complete evidence to the contrary. Per the usual, I woke up early to a silent apartment. I usually love this morning time when it is quiet and I have the kitchen to myself to have coffee and breakfast while listening to podcasts (mostly NPR--what is my age again?) and checking email. This morning, I woke up, and then promptly fell asleep on the living room couch. It was lazy, but I loved it. I had been short on sleep as the piazza beneath our apartment is getting noisier and noisier as tourists flood in. As you can see, after I had rolled myself off of the couch, my roommates and I had a fabulous (American-style) brunch this afternoon. Tara's sorority sent her a care package containing all kinds of American goodies. Think Jif peanut butter, Starbursts, Honey Nut Cheerios, Burt's Bees chapstick, and Aunt Jemima pancake mix. Tara was kind enough to share the pancakes with us. While sipping on Blood Orange mimosas and listening to country music, we prepared a meal that could cure even the worst case of homesickness with such a strong dose of Americanism. I was in charge of the scrambled eggs. I even made a caramel sauce that I learned to make in my cooking class as a maple syrup substitute. Lazy or leisurely of a day? I'll let you decide.

April 12

Today, besides being Groundhog Day, was beautiful in Florence. I can give you a synopsis of my day in only a few words: sun, cheese samples at the market, roommates, walk to the park, subsequent tired feet, games in Italian class, and burnt granola. Now, I leave you with a song that you will leave better than you came after you listen to it!

April 11

Usually on Thursday afternoons, I do my "it's the weekend!" dance. The last day of the school week always reminds me of Friday afternoons in high school: leaving school feeling free, looking forward to a football game that night and dinner out with the family. Today, though, didn't feel that way because we have a day of makeup classes on Friday. I have a growing to-do list of things to prepare for the end of the semester and I was anxious to get a lot done this afternoon. To ease our study abroad sorrows, Kelsey, Alex, and I tried a new (to us) restaurant in Santo Spirito for dinner. It was lovely conversation, people watching, and food.

April 10

What is it about sunshine that can immediately put a smile on your face? Well, sunlight acts like a zeitgeber on the suprachiasmatic nucleus of the hypothalamus--wait--you didn't ask for a nerd response? Science aside, sunshine is lovely and I tried to take in as much of it as possible. After the lamest cooking class yesterday (jams and canned vegetables, really?), I was dying to be in the open air. I window shopped and wandered the city, mostly following sidewalks that were in the sun. I am incredibly appreciative that I have established my sense of direction within the city center. At the beginning of the semester, I had a few too many of those "time to formulate plan B because I am never getting home, ever" moments. The same urgency to take everything in that I had at the beginning of the semester has returned. Time is tickin' and I want to make sure I have fulfilled by bucket list and more.

April 9

Il dolce far niente. The Italian phrase meaning "the sweetness of doing nothing." I have become a lot more mindful of noticing how Italians practice the art of doing nothing at all. I admire it! Take for example a woman I saw in the Boboli Gardens. It was a Sunday afternoon, she was alone, and had perched herself on an overlook of the city with the newspaper. She seemed to have no care in the world, no place to be, no weight on her shoulders. I am not suggesting that the Italians do not have their share of stress, problems, or the senseless knocking of the big-bad-world upon them; rather that they know better how to cope with these things. It truly is sweet to be completely immersed in the moment in front of you.

April 8

After only going to one day of classes last week, today gave me a rude awakening. Wait, not every day can be spent lounging in the presence of incredible natural scenery? Sigh. I seriously thought that I had fumbled with the dial on my watch and accidently changed the time in my two-and-a-half hour literature class this afternoon. I had one of those "I can't possibly have an hour left, right?" moments. My cinema class was instantly made brighter with my purchase of a cappucino before class. Imagine that, right? Okay, whiney, privledged study abroad student complaint is over now. Let's keep my "problems" in perspective here. I spent a good portion of my night planning the rest of my time in Italy and what summer will look like. Sorry Dave Matthews, I disagree. I think the future holds plenty of our better days.

April 7

I had an incredible morning running in Florence's annual 10k! There was also a half marathon as well. Registration was only 5 euro and included a free t-shirt and some goodies. I was one of the few females at the start line. I liked that though! It made me feel like a tough jock! If you thought the Italians were pushy just walking through the street, you ain't seen nothing yet. It was a mad house making my way across the start line. I know from past races that I tend to run the first leg too conservatively, so I went out hard and hoped my leggies would hold on. They did! I finished in 51:59. The route was flat and went all through the city center and the outskirts of the city. Loved hearing "Brava! Brava!" from spectators. I am totally proud of my time--a personal best! It was such a fun, memorable race. And get this. Most American races have bagels and cream cheese for runners at the finish line. Italy? Focaccia and olive oil.

April 6

Today was all about the return to normalcy. After a weekend in France, a visit from Russell, midterms, spring break to the United Kingdom, and traveling with Mom and Grandma, the past three weeks have been incredibly busy. Would I change any of that? Not for a second. I had a quiet morning around the apartment and went to the market to stock up on goodies for this week. When I got to the butcher counter where I always buy my eggs (they have the most unreal, fresh orange yolk), the butcher already had my 6 eggs and receipt ready to go. He must have seen me walk in. Talk about feelin' like a local. The high today in Florence was 66. The city is a different place in warm weather: almost all of the seasonal shops are open, tourists crowd every square, and puffy coats are long-gone. Things seem fresher and even happier. I associate my tan pea coat (so sick of it!) with Florence, so spring really does seem like a renewal. I took a run through the Cascine Park--a weekend favorite--and came home to indulge in some cooking! It's been a while since I have been able to cook. I made some homemade granola and an awesome lentil and quinoa salad. Mom brought me a big ole bag of quinoa all the way from home. I am nearly finished with The Fault in Our Stars--a book that came highly recommended to me from friends. Lazy, sunny, and all things that are good about Saturdays.

April 5

After a fabulous hotel breakfast (with tons of stolen fruit for my apartment), Mom, Grandma, and I decided to spend the day in Sorrento--the town where we stayed the previous night. We had toyed with going to see the island of Capri, but travel would have been crazy: walk to dock, take elevator to bottom of dock, take boat to Capri, check luggage on island, take lift to top of island, come back down, get luggage, take hydrofoil to Naples, take cab to Naples train station, take train to Florence. Wow-zers. We decided we were more in the mood for a leisurely day, and leisurely it was. We soaked in the sun and explored the shops all around the town. We made our way through a lemon garden, filled to the brim with huge fruits and yellow flowers. We even sampled lemoncello (I don't like it, but Mom and Grandma were diggin' it) made from the lemons in the garden. Though Sorrento is a town for tourists with its souvenirs, faux Italian restaurants, and walking tours, it is simply the price you have to pay for the views. We felt like "real Italians" simply sitting on a bench and people watching for an extended period of time. After a lunch outdoors in the sun, we caught a local train into Naples to get our high speed train back to Florence. 

April 4

Eye candy. It was the theme of the day. Mom booked a tour guide for us today to take us through the Amalfi Coast, Sorrento, Positano, and Rafello. Holy views. It was incredible. The towns are all connected by the tiniest, windiest roads. It made us thankful to have someone to take us around. Renting a car here would be a challenge on The Amazing Race proportions. Our tour guides were hoots. The two of them--we are still debating the proper pronunciation of their names--were locals and spent much of the ride waving to people they knew from the car. They were completely knowledgeable about the area and could answer even our most minute questions. Positano was my favorite town. The locals there seemed genuinely happy and the beaches were out of this world. Mom, a fish in her past life, rolled up her jeans and got in the water. We shopped though local clothing stores and took in the views. Amalfi was the most touristy or "chotsky" of the towns that we saw--just an overload of lemon soap shops and mediocre pastry shops flooded with tourists. We are spending the night in Sorrento and enjoyed walking the endearing, tropical streets after our long day.

April 3

This morning began in the 5 o'clock hour. Mom, Grandma, and I had the tickets to catch the first train out of Florence to Naples. I had one of those mornings where my eyes couldn't shake their tired feeling. I spent the 3 hour train ride asleep on my sweet Grandma's shoulder. Naples is a world of its own. Busy with people and traffic like Rome, but the buildings and homes look like they have taken a beating from time and poverty. The landscapes are lusher and even more tropical looking than Florence. The Italians even look different than the Tuscans I am used to seeing: their complexion and hair are much darker and many have stunning bright green eyes. We transferred to a local train to make our way to the Pompei ruins. It was difficult to figure out which train line we were on and we ended up striking up a conversation with a man from Milan and his Brazilian fiancée. When I told him I was from North Carolina, he started rambling about Duke, the Panthers, and the Bobcats. Never, ever have I met an Italian with such an interest in American sports. It was wild to have a Carolina-is-better-than-Duke debate at a train stop in Naples. We finally arrived at the ruins and swiftly purchased tickets and self-guided tour "phones." It was incredible to see the city that I have studied for so many years. I recognized some of the spots from pictures in textbooks and documentaries I had watched. Pompei is most known for the 79AD eruption of Mount Vesuvius that covered the city in ash and rendered it frozen in time. It was not discovered again until the 1800s and underwent excavation. I was struck with how large the city was. For whatever reason, I thought it would be smaller, but we absolutely could have spent an entire day there exploring each nook and cranny. The coolest part, in the most un-morbid way, was seeing the bodies of the Pompeians that were preserved with Mt. Vesuvius's unforgiving ash. We could literally see their last moments before the hot, dense ash, sadly, suffocated and buried them simultaneously. Most of the bodies were turned to the ground or covering their face, in a last stitch effort to protect themselves. We checked into our Las Vegas-esque hotel later that night. We had the pleasure of getting lost and stumbling upon perhaps the best restaurant I have tried in Italy. The city of Pompei is, well, sketchy, and we had reservations about walking the streets at night, let alone finding a delicious, authentic restaurant. We ate at Primmo Ammore. We were seated at a table right in front of the chef. We could see all of the happenings of the kitchen. After a local bottle of white wine, focaccia, and the most beautifully-plated complimentary grilled eggplant appetizer, I dug into my entree. I was feeling adventurous and asked the chef to make me a vegetarian pasta however he would like. Who needs a menu? I was served a homemade tagliatelli with grilled artichokes and some sort of olive oil-based yum of a sauce. Grandma had bomb dot com seafood risotti overflowing with clams and Mom had seafood ravoli with lemon tomato sauce. For dessert, we ordered the fresh fruit platter, and were served the most ornate plate of thin, thin sliced pineapple, melon, blood oranges, strawberries, and raspberry sauce for dipping. We were unsure of what the cost of the meal would be--ordering dishes not on the menu, picking a bottle of wine based on description and not price, appetizers and bread--and were shocked at the 55 euro bill. It was a steal.

April 2

I woke up thinking about Mom and Grandma this morning. I had visions of them getting lost on the way to the train station, or getting distracted by the goodies at San Lorenzo Market and missing their bus to Siena, or their bus reservation being misplaced. Well, I shouldn't have worried because they got off without a hitch. They did the same bus tour of Tuscany that I did in January: Siena, San Gimignano, and Pisa, with a stop at an organic winery for lunch. I had my first day back in classes. Cue "wahh wahh" music. I got two of my midterms back, and my inner nerd was very pleased with my grades. Only nerds get wound up with grades while studying abroad. I had a catch-up day in Florence: emails, assignments, and errands. I met back up with them to pack for our trip to Pompei tomorrow and grab a quick pizza. I loved hearing about their adventures in Siena, Grandma's first Italian hot chocolate (think Hershey's syrup), drinking wine atop San Gimignano, and posing with (what they thought was a disappointing) Leaning Tower. Grandma was visibly exhausted by the end of the day: she battled it out with a mosquito in the hotel room until she smashed him to smitherines at 4:30am the night before. It is another early morning tomorrow. No rest for the weary.

April 1

What a crappy day. April Fools! It was a fantastic day, jam-packed with all kinds of Tuscany lovin' with Mom and Grandma. We had an early morning. We met at the Duomo (yes, Thelma and Louise navigated themselves to the Duomo without any help) and Mom and I climbed to the top. Though it was my second time seeing Brunelleschi's dome up close and personal, it was still a "worth it" experience. When my goofy mother was looking at the art on the dome, she pointed out the depiction of the devil to an Italian family by saying "Diablo!" in her scariest, devil voice. Diablo, ladies and gentlemen, is a Spanish word and I cracked up at the unsuspecting faces of the family. We met back up with Grandma (who totally would have crushed those 463 steps to the top!) and went to see Santa Croce--the second most famous church in Florence. Then, we honed in our inner, spontaneous travelers and decided to walk to the train station and hop on a train to Lucca. It was Grandma's first time on a train! A quick nap and an hour and a half later, we arrived at the walls of the city. I went to Lucca with Maggie and Kelsey just a few weeks before, but it was a freezing and rainy day. Lucca is a different place in the sun. Families were out in full force, riding their bikes and walking along the wide city walls. It was simply lovely to see all of the Easter weekend love and togetherness (sounds a bit like a bad 60s song, but I assure you it was nothing like that). We walked through the tree-lined streets and stumbled upon a food market selling all types of local meats, cheeses, pastries, and sauces. I can't say too much more about the market, or else some of my loyal readers won't be surprised by their gift souvenirs. We searched for a lunch place and stumbled upon a place called Trattoria da Leo. We stopped in when we heard ample Italian and saw it was packed. A short wait for a table later, and we were sitting in a packed dining room, filled with Italian families and their children. It was a true, authentic experience to see husbands and wives feed each other with a shared fork across the tables, with their children happily eating their spaghetti. The three of us feasted on fresh bread, mixed salads, stewed beans, farro soup, and roasted vegetables.We were laughing as two young, red-headed twin girls stared at me with huge eyes from their table. We only assumed it was because of the strange language they heard me speaking. We explored Lucca and walked along the walls until our 4:30 train. We were pooped on the way home and, of course, had a child with ADD (allegedly) sitting behind us. We returned to Florence and Mom negotiated for a beautiful brown leather purse in San Lorenzo market. Dinner was courtesy of Kitsch aperitivo. We were graced with the lovely Kelsey, too. I told Grandma she was the fifth character in Sex and the City, as she ordered a Cosmopolitan for her drink. I think the ladies loved the buffet--especially the gigantic fruit salad for dessert. I said good night and wished them a fabulous time on their day trip to Siena tomorrow. I am truly going to miss them tomorrow!

March 31

Happy Easter! I started my morning with a quick run. I was loving how quiet the city was. There were tons of runners out (say what?!) and my running socks nearly blew off when I passed a runner that wished me a happy Easter in Italian. Never, ever has another runner even looked me in the eyes! I picked Grandma and Mom up from their hotel (ok ok, I may have "picked up" a lot of nutella, cheese, apples, and jams from the hotel breakfast to take back with me too) and we headed to the Duomo. We had heard there would be a ceremony for Easter at 10:30 and we thought we should check it out. The quiet city I had at my fingertips just a few hours earlier was done for. Piazza de Duomo was packed. Packed beyond belief. Packed like my Ryanair carry-on. Packed like my brother Kevin's stomach after Girl Scout cookie season. We could not move--I am absolutely not exaggerating. Mom was laughing that everyone was wearing rain coats because the "swishy" fabric made it easy to rub past people. The ceremony was unlike anything I had ever experienced: a portable temple of sorts was placed in the middle of the square, and after a round of chanting from priests, the temple began shooting fireworks forth, spinning, and revealing flags. Strange, but utterly cool. After we freed our way out, we shopped through San Lorenzo market and then headed to Pitti Palace to see some exhibits and the Boboli Gardens. We had an intermission at an awesome restaurant in Santo Spirito. Mom and Grandma ordered pizza, thinking they had ordered slices (I clearly failed them as their tour guide). They were shocked to see huge pizzas presented before them. Slices of pizza are rare in Italy. I assured them that the Italians eat the entire pizza, using a few Italian women around the restaurant as proof. We re-entered Pitti right as the sun came out and explored the statue-rich gardens. Though beautiful, Mom and Grandma wished they could see them in the spring when things are more lush and colorful. A little bit of shopping later, we stopped in at the hotel for an evening tea pick-me-up. Then, the moment we (I?) I had been waiting for: dinner at Acqua. We ordered the salad sampler (a corn and tomato, raddicchio and fennel, and Greek), pasta sampler (simple tomato, spinach, broccoli, spicy risotto, vegetable ragu), and dessert sampler (tiramisu, blueberry tart, chocolate cake, and cheesecake). We left pleasantly full and exhausted from a day on our feet. Til tomorrow!

March 30

Mom and Grandma arrived today! It was so great to see them. They looked fabulous for having been on a plane for over 8 hours. I was so proud of Grandma for saying, "I'm not tired, let's go!" Mom's first request: a piece of cheese. Anyone who knows my mom would not be surprised in the slightest. They arrived around 9:45 and they couldn't check into the hotel until 2, so we had some time to kill. First stop: the Central Market. We shopped the fruit and vegetable vendors and got Mama a succulent hunk of pecorino cheese and a delicious Tuscan orange. A true Florence experience! Next, we stopped  by my apartment for a quick tour (in fact, I believe it would be impossible to give a long tour of the little place). Mom said that it looked familiar from our Skype sessions, but that it seemed smaller in person! The apartment was covered with my post-spring break laundry explosion of drying racks. Then we hit the town! We cruised through Piazza de Duomo, Ponte Vecchio, Palazzo Vecchio, saw the river, got cups of tea at a coffee shop, saw LdM classrooms, and grabbed lunch at one of my favorite salad and sandwich shops. These two ladies were kicking jet lag's butt. After they checked into their hotel and saw the comfy beds, they requested a nap. I left them for a few hours and (anxiously!) caught up on emails back at my place. We met again and headed out for dinner. We tried to get a table at Acqua al Due (predictable, predictable), but were immediately turned away and told "not possible." "Not possible" is one of the Italians' favorite phrases. We found a trattoria close by and stopped in after we saw gnocci con gorgonzola e noci (potato pastas with gorgonzola and walnuts) on the menu. It was a charming restaurant with attentive service--a rarity in Florence! We ordered bruschetta with tomatoes (a classic), gnocchi, a cheese sampler, and a side of asparagus (my veggie-lovin' request). Loved hearing about life at home and sharing funny Florence stories. For dessert, we went to none other than Neri Gelateria. Grandma and I got a yogurt-based gelato, flavored with honey and walnuts. Too delicious. Mama went for a Southern Italian classic: cannoli. It was a near perfect day, ending with a walk around the river at night. Bellissimo!

March 29

3:50am. Yikes. What a terrible alarm time. I left Kelsey and Maggie to head back to Florence early so that I can greet my mom and grandmother when they arrive early Saturday! I am so grateful for the two of them. They are always down to try new things and I love having friends that are so easy to talk to. They were the best travel companions and I really think the world of both of them. Back to regularly scheduled programming:  I kid you not, I saw multiple people drinking a pint of Guinness at 5am at the airport. Hey, why be buzzed off of caffeine when you can just have a real buzz? I landed in Milan and took a bus to the city center to catch a train to Florence. I decided I would wait to buy my ticket at the station (as opposed to in-advance online) in case my flight was late and I missed my expensive train. Well, I got to the station with plenty of time, but the next two trains to Florence were all-booked. Never, ever did I think that would happen. I blame it on Easter weekend. I grabbed a plate of pasta and headed on a self-guided walking tour to kill time before my late train arrived. Milan had a few modern buildings, but I was shocked it maintains its reputation of being the fashion capital of Europe. It seemed too...normal...to be so embedded within the glamorous high-end fashion world. A speedy train ride later in a seat across from a woman who looked exactly like my Aunt Suzy, I was home in Florence. It was notably packed with more tourists than usual and the weather felt warm compared to the UK. Many loads of laundry later, I am laying in bed, tired to the core. It reminds me of the times as a kid I would fall totally helpless to sleep in the car after a long day and Dad would have to carry me to bed.

March 28

Another early morning for us spring breakers. We booked a bus tour to the Cliffs of Moher! We had toyed with the idea of renting a car and driving to the Cliffs, but settled on a bus tour for peace of mind. It is truly a challenge to get used to traffic being on the left. At crosswalks, it is often painted on the curb "Look left" or "look right" to help unsuspecting tourists like myself know which way they are about to be struck by incoming traffic. The tour stopped through a few smaller Irish towns before reaching the Cliffs. We grabbed lunch as a group at a cafeteria designed to accommodate charter buses. The Cliffs of Moher were beyond beautiful. Mother Nature, you did good, lady. Their sheer vertical rise is captivating enough, but the bright green Irish grass paired with the blues of the Atlantic and sky were unreal. Looking down, my stomach flipped and I got the willies. There were a few too many "Call these numbers if you need to talk" posters and the insistence that all entrants check-in and out for "numbers control" to make me a little uncomfortable. I kept comparing the Cliffs to Cinque Terre--Cinque was much more private and tucked away, you had to really search for the views. The Cliffs, on the other hand, came at you full force, putting everything out there. Also, much smaller than Cinque, there were fellow tourists every-which-way, but I didn't mind in the slightest with those kind of view. As we were exiting the park, we (get this) ran into a girl in our same sorority that graduated last year. How surreal to see a familar face from home while in Ireland! She is teaching English in Spain and was traveling this week. We arrived in Dublin around dinner time. Kelsey had scouted out a traditional Irish pie restaurant for dinner, but unfortunately it was already closed by the time we arrived. We spotted a gourmet grocery store and thought we'd check it out. It was deli counter style and I saw a Moroccan fish stew with my name on it. Portions were massive and I did the very lady like thing of unbuttoning my pants mid-meal. While we waited for our food to be served, Kelsey and Maggie had a freak-out moment at the deli counter when they realized that their favorite dessert--a Biscoff cookie spread, think Biscoff cookie peanut butter--was being sold at the grocery store. They are certifiably obsessed with the stuff! They debated whether it was worth the cost and eventually put the jar down. Now get this. A man and his middle school aged daughter came up to our table as we were eating with a small grocery bag. He said, "Please exchange it if it is not the right flavor," smiled, and walked away. He had overheard Mags and Kels, and bought them the jar of cookie butter. Luck of the Irish? Heart of the Irish? Either way, it was a moment to be remembered. I loved seeing the sweet smile of his young daughter and knowing she will remember the time her kind father helped some crazy Americans get a cookie butter fix. The night at the hostel was...interesting...and I am going to abstain from complaining to keep with the spirit of my great spring break. But...yeah...interesting. 

March 27

A snowy morning greeted us as we waited for our airport shuttle at a bus stop. It is easy to look at the price for a plane ticket at a discount airline (I have a love-hate relationship with Ryanair) and think, this is cheap travel! However, there are a lot of additional travel costs that I (naively) didn't fully take into account. Shuttle to the Edinburgh airport, plane to Dublin (behind a sca-reeeaming baby), public bus to Dublin city center, and then a (free) walk to the hostel. With so many legs to the trip, it really does add up. But, in relation to travel costs in the US, traveling Europe is a steal. We breezed through customs and Dublin was ours for the taking. Dublin was a bit, well, dirty and I haven't heard so many swear words from passerby conversations anywhere in my life. But, it is truly a part of the charm of the city. The city screams, "Yeah, I'm Dublin, this is how I am, I love where I came from, and I am not changing for anyone. Now, who wants a pint?" I thought often about my distant family that emigrated from Ireland. The highlight of the afternoon was a tour of the Guinness factory. The tour takes place at the Storehouse--a huge, modern building designed to look like a pint glass used just for tours. Water, barley, yeast, and hops. All the ingredients in Ireland's most famous brew. It was fascinating to see how ingrained and proud the Irish are of the beer. It truly is a part of the culture. Get this: Guinness, the founder, signed a 9000 year lease on the property in the 1800s, so to this day, rent is still just 45 pounds a month. It is arguably the best real estate deal ever made. The tour included a pint of the good stuff, but I could only stomach a quarter or so. That is one acquired taste I'm not sure I will ever acquire. By this afternoon, I was stuck in a bit of a funk. I think the close-to-home culture, paired with nights of only semi-restful sleep at the hostels had caught up to me. Just one of those days. We had a fabulous dinner, though. A vegetarian Indian restaurant that we stumbled upon. For 5.50, you can load your small plate with as much food as you'd like. It was fabulous and delicious--so refreshing to have tastes of ginger, curry, and chili, which are not found in Italy. I tried a aubergine something, a beet salad, brown rice, a chickpea something, a carrot salad, and a black-eyed pea something. I left pleasantly stuffed. Our Dublin hostel isn't bad, per se, but it is fairly hostel-ly, if you catch my drift. I actually woke up with a bruise on my leg from the unpadded mattress springs. Roughin' it in the best way. 

March 26

We set out this morning to climb Arthur's Peak--an old, inactive volcano that hits high over Edinburgh that boasts 360 degrees of the city from its peak. It was a lovely hike over green Scottish grass that was just challenging enough to get my blood pumping to keep warm. At the peak, I had one of those "Wait, Caroline, don't forget for a second  you are in Scotland right now" check-ins with myself at the peak. What is it about views and water that universally brings people in?! I think we all enjoy the moments where we are forced to feel small every once in a while. We had a treat in mind for lunch: traditional afternoon tea at a girly restaurant called the Tigerlilly. It was a little pricey, but we decided that it was a "worth it" expense. I had English breakfast tea served with tiny portions of a raisin scone, a smidgin of carrot cake, a cupcake of sorts, a cherry tart, salmon sandwich, and egg salad sandwich. I was actually pretty disappointed in the food. I don't have much of a sweet tooth and I found everything a little too sweet, though the raisin scone was my favorite. It was a fun environment though and we had an awesome waitress from Australia! And it was exciting to have an excuse to do something fancy at 4pm. We headed back to the hostel and had a good time getting to know our roommates better. Alma was from Vienna, Austria and traveling by herself, a beautiful French girl (didn't catch her name) staying in Edinburgh long-term to learn English, and two girls from the University of Pittsburgh with huge personalities. We headed out all together to find a drink somewhere. Edinburgh was quiet, but man, some Scottish girls go all out for a Tuesday night. We saw a girl wearing a leotard...without pants. Modesty aside, it was below freezing, so I thought she was crazy. We set our alarms for 5:30am and got ready for an early morning.

March 25

We woke up this morning and were pleased to have strong coffee, muesli with dried fruit, and yogurt. Total step up from corn flakes and room-temperature whole milk which frequents the hostel breakfast lineup. Maggie was brave enough to try Veggie-mite (it was promptly spit out in 4 seconds flat). We bundled and hit Edinburgh. It was fuh-reezing, but we managed to walk around all of the main sites. We saw the Elephant House--the cafe were JK Rowling began writing Harry Potter. The bathroom walls were filled with fan graffiti thanking her for her work. I was touched by one father's note about how JK gave his children the gift of imagination. In hindsight now, I'm bothered by how it was written in the women's bathroom (?). Every store and restaurant drew me in with their craftful logos and colorfully painted facades. I said, "That store looks cute!" enough times to be considered annoying. Maggie got an awesome jean jacket at a vintage store before we stopped in at the free Scottish National History museum more out of coldness than curiosity. By this time, we were defrosting and hungry, so we knew there was only one remedy: soup. I have had great luck using TripAdvisor for restaurant recommendations--I have found that having a place or activity in mind, as opposed to just "wandering" makes for more pleasant traveling. Union of Genius came highly recommended for its hearty, healthy soups. They had very limited seating, so we people watched to wait for one of the two tables to open. But, once we were served our trio of soup and bread samples, the wait for a table didn't matter. Tomato and red pepper, leek and potato, and curried coconut sweet potato with wholemeal, olive, and poppy breads. Hit the spot in all kinds of ways. We then regrouped at the hostel and made plans to grab Mexican (it had been too long) and go to a comedy club. Mexican dinner was mediocre. I decided to try ceviche--something I had seen plenty of times on Top Chef, but never actually tried. It was fine, but I left wishing I had ordered something warm and cheesy. The comedy club was having their Monday beginner's night event, boasting over 10 acts. We went into it knowing it would be hit or miss. I ordered some cider (adult apple juice and I really enjoyed it) and got ready for the show. We were pleasantly surprised! Some acts were laugh out loud funny, some were clearly, um, learning the art of comedy (that's P.C., right?), some had such heavy accents we had trouble understanding! The three of us had a great time; the laughs were definitely worth the 2 pound cover charge (Russell, you would have loved it here). The highlights in the acts included a choreographed dance to a song mashup and stories about penguins at the Edinburgh zoo.

March 24

We were up and at it this morning. The hostel provided a free breakfast with some toast and cereals. We bought Tube tickets and set out for sightseeing. We first headed to Buckingham Palace. The square was surprisingly very open and quiet, making me think Sunday is a quiet day for most Londoners. I wore my red Northface windbreaker and black beanie, so we had a laugh about how similar I looked to the Royal Guard. We strolled through Hyde Park and made a quick pit stop for coffee in the most glamorous McDonald's we had ever seen (we justified getting McDonald's with this reasoning). Next stop was Camden Market. Lots of vendors selling trashy, yet classic tourist items for dirt cheap. It was crowded and fun walking through the market. At the very end, we came to the food vendors. Seeing any trends? The vendors were all about free samples. Harrison and Kevin--think Costco on Sunday, times 10. I nearly filled up on samples before my lunch. I tried Indian falafel, Peruvian chickpeas, churros of questionable nationality, mulled wine, Spanish paella, and more (my attempt to "linger" around the crepe stand for a sample was unfruitful). I settled on nearly the same lunch I had yesterday: Falafel, chickpeas, couscous and carrot salad, topped with yogurt sauce for 3 pounds. Done and done. I could barely eat, though, because my hands were so cold. The coldest I have felt since studying abroad was at Camden that afternoon. I bought a tiny cup of tea for a whopping 2 pounds in my desperation. We had planned a special trip for the afternoon: a stop at the largest Whole Foods in the world. We thought it would be fun to hit up the salad bar and take the salads on our five hour train to Edinburgh that afternoon. Wow. Upon stepping into the store, Maggie pulled out her camera to take a photo. The camera was immediately swatted down by a security agent at the front door. A no photos policy at a grocery store? Only Whole Foods. The store was so huge I lost Kelsey and Maggie for about 30 minutes. After trying a few samples and making a delicious, gargantuan salad topped with incredible tomato-stewed tofu, we headed to Kings Cross to get our (expensive but scenic) train to Edinburgh. Platform 9 and three quarters was packed with happy-go-lucky Potter fans, reminding me of lines to see Santa at the mall. The line to get a picture was too long, but it was neat to see in person. We were psyched to have a table on the train and were lucky to be seated with a woman from Northern England named Mandy. She reminded me of the "fun mom" that we all knew from one of our high school friends--bubbly, talkative, and holding on to more youth than age. We had a great time talking back and forth about cultural differences, school policies, travel plans, raising children, and Edinburgh. She warned us that Scottish men wearing kilts typically don't wear any--cough, cough--underwear. Five hours and a Whole Foods salad later, we arrived in Edinburgh (pronounced like Ed-in-boro). Why on earth was I expecting a quaint, quiet town lined with cottages? I thought I would be honing Kate Winslett in The Holiday. It was a modern town, lined with modern shops, but all overlooked by a huge, Medieval looking castle on a cliff. We checked into our hostel--a huge, multistory building fusing Mellow Mushroom-decor with frat house-style halls. Zonked out.

March 23

I'm a morning person, but a 3:45am alarm clock was killer. We were off to the train station by 4:20am to catch our bus to Pisa. After a killer head-bobbing, neck-kranked, half-asleep ride, we arrived at the airport, ready to be bossed around by Ryanair. Somehow (somehow!) my bookbag with running shoes tied to it passed their strict baggage standards. There are study abroad rumors about kids stuffing their pockets with underwear or wearing three shirts onto the plane to keep the carryon bag small. Two and a half hours later, we arrived in warm, tropical London. By warm and tropical, I mean cold and snowing. But, I was shocked how much I appreciated signs all in English--something I didn't know I missed. Customs was a breeze and after a quick withdrawal of British pounds from an ATM (the exchange rate was enough to make me say "bloody hell"), we were on our way. Like a crazy person, I trusted a man driving on the left side of the road to take me downtown. I immediately thought London was like NewYork. I was overwhelmed in the best possible way. I loved the city so much, I felt like I was cheating on Florence. What?! Stores that sell more than one type of item? Ethnic foods? I can walk through the streets without being asked "Umbrella for the bella?" Hold on, is that a Whole Foods? It felt so wrong, yet so right. Home--that elusive feeling--was at my fingertips. Well, actually a delicious hummus and chickpea plate of Moroccan food was at my fingertips. We grabbed a fabulous street food lunch from Portobello Road market. Kelsey and I tried the Moroccan vendor, Maggie tried Thai and Indian.  I had to buy (I am one hell of a bargainer) a hat off the streets for 3 pounds. The winds were so strong I had a brain freeze from just walking through the streets. We warmed up in the Science (totally nerded out in the "Who Am I?" exhibit on psychology) and Natural History museums--free admission in both places. We then walked across Millennium Bridge with a quick stop at St. Paul's to try to get some dinner from Burrow Market. We were too late, though, and got there pass closing time. It was actually a welcomed excuse to head back early to the hostel. We were exhausted--plus the hostel had free tea. We booked a 16 person dorm. The huge room was slightly noisy as we tried to sleep, but each bed had curtains around it, so we made the best of a night's sleep in our cave of a bed.