Back Again

Cinque Terre for the last time. It was tough to say goodbye.

This year, I've been to Liguria five times. This weekend was my third camping trip through Cinque Terre. The school had offered an official trip there this weekend, but the cost was way too high and I knew that they wouldn't be able to give us the type of trip that we could have on our own. However, I had received a call from John earlier this week telling me that the weather forecast was bad and that rain and cold weather was almost guaranteed. Still, we decided to go through with it, mainly because we had planned on doing this trip for so long.

In the end, it was only myself, John, Harrison, and Peaceful Pete, who was visiting from London, who decided to go through with it. We took a train there early in the afternoon, which was quite the experience. It was so crowded that we had to sit in the doorway on the pull-out seats, which we coined the "Gary Box" (Gary is sort of slang for bums). We had a great time in there just kicking it and not really caring about anything. When we reached Pisa Centrale Train Station, we were getting off to transfer when we saw Ream, who was getting on our train. He insisted that the train we were getting off on was actually the train we wanted to be on, so we jumped back on. When we got all the way down to Livorno, we got off and realized that he was wrong. We waited for about an hour, played some cards, got back on the right train, and eventually wound up in Monterosso.

Monterosso's weather wasn't as cold and rainy as Pisa's or Livorno's. It was partly cloudy but a little warmer. We went to the grocery store, got a few remedies, then made the steep hike up Monte Rosso to the great campsite in the abandoned church. It was just as steep and difficult as I had remembered, and I broke quite the sweat. When we got to the top, we saw that regular incredible view of ocean and sky, except that there were some really thick, dark, threatening clouds to the north.

We ate dinner, drank a little wine, and relaxed as the sun set. While there was still some daylight, we scouted out the abandoned monastery located below our campsite, searching for potential spots to sleep in case it rained. There were a few rooms that looked decent, although they were pegged with random graffity, much of it anarchy symbols. Overall, the place creeped me out. There was a room above, right next to where we usually slept, with a roof and hollowed out windows, but I had remembered in the past that it did not keep the rain out very well.

When dusk arrived, Grace and Grazia arrived to join us, which I thought was really cool. We had some dessert and a little wine and talked late into the night. As we got ready to fall asleep, we felt a few drops of rain. We were already prepared, however, as we had already put our bags in the more open shelter above. When the rain began to fall harder, we simply moved our sleeping bags inside. In the beginning, it stayed dry. I was still worried, though, since I had seen the room fill up with water the first time I camped up there when it poured in the morning after we woke up. This time, it was different. Harrison and I checked the windows for at least 20 minutes searching for leaks, but the shelter was holding up just fine even as the rain continued to fall harder. In the end, we had a great sleep and remained completely dry. When morning came, I got up to see the sunrise, went back to bed, and woke up around 10. Everything was almost completely dry and the sun was back out.

We swam down in Monterosso around 11, drawing a pretty big audience because no one else was swimming at that time. A lot of people thought we were crazy. The water was cold but felt so refreshing. The hike through the villages was the same incredible experience as usual. The sun was out and the views were stunning. We caught a train out of Corneglia and made it back to Florence at a decent time. We sat in the "Gary Box" again, playing cards and grubbing on some of our left-over food. Some guys from the Ivory Coast were intrigued by our style, and came in and talked with us as we played cards. We bonded over our appreciation for Drojba and card games.

It was another awesome trip to Cinque Terre. All three have been incredible and unique in their own ways. I was, however, disappointed that more people didn't join us up there. Originally, this was supposed to be the last hurrah, the last time for us to come together, camp out, and have a great time as a group. Like a lot of things this year, it didn't happen that way. Too many people were scared away by the weather and other things. I kind of wish that more people here this year had been more willing to roll the dice, take a few risks just to see what would happen. I feel that much of my experience here has been based on those ideals, and as far as I know, things have panned out pretty well for me. It was really hard to board that train today and say goodbye to the sight of the light blue Mediterranean hugging the rugged green cliffs of the Italian coastline. It may be a long time until I see that again.

Big Week

The arrival of Peaceful Pete and Annie, as well as Matt's 22nd birthday, stirred things up a little this week. Last night was pretty eventful. We played our weekly Calcetto, mini-soccer with teams of six. Professor Batterman organizes this, and it's definitely been one of the highlights of this semester. We each put down 5 euro to rent out a facility with two lighted astroturf fields. They're a little bit smaller than indoor fields, but it's pretty much the same style of play. We always have four co-ed teams, and my squad's won the last three weeks in a row. Last night, Batterman played a little bit and we had a couple good combos. A great give and go that I put away and then a bello goal by him after I found him on a diagonal.

After the game, we came back, cleaned up, and partied. Peaceful put on his Stomp the Yard mix, a bunch of rap from this movie he's always talking about. We played some games and then spent a lot of time at Joshua Tree. I'm pretty sure Millhouse had a good birthday. Plus it was great to see Pete and Annie and kick it with them. I'm looking forward to the next few nights as well.

Today I had to wake up early for my Florence of the Medici tour, which was supposed to be to the History of Science Museum. Unfortunately we couldn't get in, so the tour was cancelled. I had some time to kill before my Italian class, and it was a beautiful day, so I put on some tunes in my pod, walked around town, and took some great photos. For Italian class, Batterman took us on a tour to the Ferragamo Shoe Museum. It was surprisingly interesting and I learned a lot of things.

The days are dwindling down, but there's still a lot of fun to be had. I'll keep you posted.

(Family) Weekend

With the cancellation of Italian Family Weekend, Conor and Matt rented a car and drove up to Munich and John also rented a car with his pensione to go up to Southern France. I had already been to both places, so I decided to stay in the area and see some of the smaller attractions I hadn't gotten around to seeing yet.

Friday night was great. I got my camera back from the repair store and then headed up to Fiesole. A bunch of people were up there and we had a big bonfire and cooked hot dogs and s'mores. We sat around and talked about all of our favorite memories from the trip. It was a strong reminder of how amazing this year has been. So many things have happened and it was great to look back on them.

A lot of people took the bus back down to Florence, but I stayed for a while with Frank, Allyson, and Lauran at J.J. Hill, a pub up there. We had a couple beers and talked about all sorts of things. It was a blast.

Saturday morning Andrew and I woke up early to go to Orvieto. We were running very late, and the 7 bus stopped right in front of us. It was heading straight to the train station, so we hopped on. Unfortunately, we got caught by one of the regulators for not validating our tickets. I was trying my usual trick, standing next to the validating machine with a blank ticket ready to validate it if they checked. Unfortunately he stopped me before I could validate it. I argued with him all the way to the train station, and as we got off, he finally cut the fine down to 20 euro for each of us. Still upset (mainly with myself for getting on the bus in the first place) but fortunate for escaping with just a 20 euro fine, we gave him the money. It wasn't a great way to start the day, but I did, however, get the last laugh when I signed the ticket as Haywood Djeblomi.

Orvieto was a cool little town. It was perched up on a 1000 foot plateau overlooking many small villas and castles. It was surrounded by a high city wall built into the cliffs, and it must have been absolutely impossible for enemies to invade it back in the Middle Ages. The highlight was definitely the Duomo, a massive church with incredible frescoes and sculptures.

That night I ate some delicious Mexican food over at Gallo D'Oro and then went to the bars for a while. Sunday Peaceful Pete arrived for the week. On my way to pick him up at the train station, an incredible twist of fate occured. As I walked down Via Cavour, not too far from my pensione, a group of old ladies asked me how to get to Hotel Astoria. I had no idea where it was, but they showed me the location on their map. It was clear on the other side of town, near the train station. I told them I was heading over there myself and that they could follow me. Though it was a little frustrating to walk at such a slow pace, I schmoozed a little with them, told them some things about Italy, and got them to their hotel. When we finally got there, they started throwing bills at me. In the end, I came away with 25 euro. Therefore, the bus fine was annulled. In fact, I had come away with a 5 euro profit. Two trips to the train stations, two completely different twists of luck.

Not Again...

For the second time, Italian Family weekend was cancelled. This time it was due to snowfall in the Abruzzo region, so I guess the buses wouldn't be able to make it to the villa. This was another huge disappointment since it was supposed to be one of the better weekends of the semester. However, I plan on making the most of it by seeing more of Florence and perhaps some other towns in Tuscany. We're still working on planning out our trip for Easter break. As of now, our top options are Rimini, back to the Amalfi Coast, or a trip up north to Austria and Germany (Salsberg, Munich, and The Eagle's Nest). All would be excellent.

Another week of school is in the books and my grades are still doing well. We had another session of calcetto (soccer) this week, although I didn't have the same success as last week's. I think I may have hit the post about 10 times in the course of an hour, and I took a pretty good beating out there. It was a good reminder of the beatings I used to take when I played competitively. It's all part of the game.

Tonight we're off to La Spada and then who knows.

St. Paddy's Day

This weekend I stayed in Florence in the hopes of having a great St. Patrick's Day and catching the Fiorentina-Roma match on Sunday. Unfortunately, the stadium was still closed off to fans, so that was out of the question. Plus, the weather was really nice so a trip to the coast was too tempting to pass down. A lot of people were set on staying in town for St. Patrick's Day and to watch March Madness (which I have already lost interest in), so our camping crew was small: Myself, Matt, and Lauran Intinarelli. The plan was to start at Riomaggiore, the southernmost town of Cinqueterre, and hike down to Porto Venere, eventually ending up at the camping site we found last time on top of Isola Palmaria.

But first, back to Thursday night....

Gonzaga played at 2:45 a.m., and it was playing at Red Garter, the American bar thick with Boston Red Sox hats and semester kids. Regretfully, Matt and I showed up sometime around 9:30 p.m. and sat around watching games for literally over eight hours. It didn't help that all of them were blowouts except the Duke game, the only bright spot of the night. The Gonzaga game was rough and there were lots of Indiana fans there, and to be frank, they were chodes.

Friday I slept pretty much all day. I was glad when Saturday morning rolled around and we got on the train to Riomaggiore. We arrived at about 12:30 and walked along some beautiful coastal trails in search of the Red and White trail that would lead down to Porto Venere. It took us a long time to find the trail and we didn't have any success until we asked a man who pointed up to the church perched high atop the mountain overlooking Riomaggiore. Needless to say, the first stretch of the hike was the toughest. It was a pure climb and my bag was really heavy.

The Red and White trail down to Porto Venere was not quite what I expected. It was very long, but it wrapped inland for a while, taking us through a pine forest devoted to mountainbiking and other outdoor activity. When it returned to the coast, we were at a very high altitude and the view of the sea was breathtaking. You had to be careful not to get too distracted, however, because the trail was very difficult and there wasn't much room for error.

We finally descended into town around 5 p.m., giving us plenty of time to board a barchino that would take us across the harbor to Palmaria. This time it was a lot easier once we got to the island because we knew exactly where our campsite was. When we got to the top of the island, as we were walking along the road, two mule-like creatures startled us. I think they were those mini-horses that people raise and breed for some reason, but I'm not sure. Lauran started petting one of them, but then stopped as we debated whether or not it was a wild boar. We decided it wasn't and then parted ways with it.

The campsite was the same as usual, and we set up shop with a perfect view of the ocean and the sunset. There were some clouds looming on the horizon, but they meant no harm. As the sun descended, I broke out a surprise: four Guinnesses and three cups to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. We weren't out at the pubs celebrating our Irish heritage, but I don't think I could've chosen a better place to be at that moment.

We talked for a while, but we were so tired that we drifted off around 7 p.m. because we were so tired from all the hiking. But we ended up rallying and watching the stars pretty late into the night. In fact, Miller took a dip and I enjoyed the final Guinness sometime around midnight. I didn't sleep too well that night, mainly because I just don't sleep well in the open air, but at one point I was wide awake and saw a clear sky full of stars. I ended up dozing off after that and not waking up until 10 a.m. the next morning.

We explored the town a little the next day and then took the train back into Florence. Another weekend, another incredible experience. I'd say the luck of the Irish on St. Paddy's Day had a little to do with it, but then again, we've been having "luck" like this all year long.

Southern France

I was a little bit reluctant to do Southern France because most of my closest friends didn't sign up for it. I was originally not planning on going, but I was convinced by a few people as the deadline to sign up approach. As it turns out, those people dropped out of the trip. Still, when all is said and done, I'm really glad I went through with this trip. I'll explain why.

We rolled into Nice on Thursday night. I didn't see much of the coast because it was dark out, so all the sight seeing would have to wait until Friday. Our hostel was pretty nice and we had a good group of guys in our room. We walked around town for a while, looking for a bar or something to hang out at for a while. Most places were closed and the town was pretty much shut down for the night. We found a billiards bar, got a beer, and hung out for a while and then went to bed.

The weather was perfect on Friday and I went on a tour of the town, seeing some of the churches and a really cool open air market. Nice was a beautiful city, with a great feel to it. It was kind of like a richer version of Puerto Vallara; a beach town with a nice boardwalk and a lot to do and see. There was a great park overlooking the town with a large waterfall and some breathtaking views. There was also a park in the center with a large ferris wheel. After we walked around town for a while, we went to the beach and laid out all day. It was great.

That night I did a pub crawl with most of the group, but it turned out to be kind of a flop. Mainly because, in cooperation with my pub crawl theory, the leaders were not Australian and were therefore incompetent. By the end of it there were only about about four people left...the rest had bailed. But it was still nice to get out and talk to some people that I hadn't spent that much time with this year.

On Saturday we got in the bus and went to St. Paul and Cannes. St. Paul was a small village perched on a cliff overlooking the blue sea. I walked around for a while and then set up shop in the sun and watched some old guys play bacci ball. They're really intense and it's fun to watch them play and argue. After that we went to Cannes, which was a lot like Nice but even a little bit ritzier. Tom would later describe it as the most uptight beach town he had ever seen, with people like those in the movie Zoolander. I didn't really mind it that much. I went straight to the beach, which had sand this time instead of the flat rocks that Nice had. I did some swimming and got lots of sun. It was the perfect day.

That night back in Nice, not many people went out. A few of us were hanging out in the lounge of the hostel and decided to take a walk down to the beach. On our way there, we saw that the ferris wheel was open so we took a ride on it. It was a blast and provided a great view of the whole town and the ocean. After that I sat on the beach, had a beer, and talked as the waves crashed in.

The next day, on our way home, we made a stop in the mini-country of Monaco. It was a beautiful place and though I didn't go into the casino at MonteCarlo, I saw it and it looked incredible.

We rolled back into Florence Sunday evening and I was greeted by a distraught Miller who told me that his weekend down in Sicily had been "the craziest one of the year, and not necessarily in the good way." Turns out he had camped out in some shack and then in an airport to avoid the rain. I kind of wish I had been there. But still, Southern France turned out to be one of my favorite weekends of the semester, and when I get that sailboat someday and sail around the Mediterranean, I'll be sure to include that as one of my stops.

Maremma

I just returned from another outdoor adventure. This time we headed south to the coast of Southern Tuscany, to Maremma. I had heard great things about it from many people including my conversation partner, who lives down there.

We tried to hop on a train that was leaving at 10:30, but because of the previous night's festivities, we barely missed it. We waited an additional 45 minutes and then caught the next one. We had to transfer at Pisa Centrale, so we got off and started searching for the next train. After much debate, we hopped one of the two trains heading down to Grossetto. We knew we were on the wrong one as soon as we sat down because there were assigned seats and it was way too nice. But it was empty and it was heading to the same place that our tickets said, so we stayed on. About halfway through, the ticket checker came and explained to us that we had chosen the wrong train. I told him we'd get off at the next stop, and luckily we didn't get fined. So we got off in some small town, caught another train, and finally made it to Orbotello sometime around 4 or 5. From Orbotello we took a bus onto the island of Monte Argentario and got off at Porto San Stefano. This was way larger than we had expected, with a large harbor and a big business district. What's worse was that the coast was lined with beautiful houses as far as we could see. It was like trying to camp on Mercer Island. Plus it was getting late. We knew it was going to be difficult.

The first thing we did was get to the water and just walk along the coast. We got out of town and began following narrow roads as far as we could. We finally found a little trail that led to some woods, and we thought that we had finally broken free. But the celebration was too soon. That trail led back to a road that just led to more houses. This area was definitely for the affluent, and there were some amazing houses and villas with gorgeous views of the ocean. We got on a road that was surely the main coastal route, and we moved forward, hoping to eventually reach wilderness. However, as we continued on, though the terrain was absolutely beautiful and ideal for camping, everywhere we looked was fenced off with a private property sign. Around 6 p.m., as the sun was about to call it a day, we decided that it was time to seriously think about stopping at a place to camp.

Our resting place for the night would be a private olive grove that was appealing only because of its gate that was so easy to crawl under. We threw our bags over, crawled under, and scampered for cover like a pack of soldiers. We couldn't see any houses on the hill above, but after climbing up a steep rock face to catch the tail end of the sunset, we noticed that there was indeed a house right above us that could see everything. In fact, there were people outside, people who were perhaps watching us. It wasn't too comforting, but I was too occupied with another incredible sunset. I looked over the ocean as the sun descended behind an island in the distance that I thought was Elba (later I found out it wasn't). That sparked a sharp nostalgia that I know will be hitting me frequently over the next few months. It took me back to that amazing ride through the sunset outside of Innamorata, to the way the sky and sea were a sharp magenta and I was closer to heaven than I would ever get. I was certain that there was a similar scene unfolding right then and there on that island as I watched...but now I was so far away from it and could only watch it from a distance.

With the cover of dusk, we trampled down the face and back to our rocky sleeping spot. I wasn't so nervous about the proprietors anymore because it was getting late, and if they were going to take action, they would have already done so. I didn't sleep too well that night, but we woke up early and left the olive grove quickly.

We continued hiking the road for a couple hours. It ended up looping back to San Stefano, but there was a steep hiking trail that led up to an old tower perched on top of a large hill. When we got up there, we noticed there was a small open door about 30 feet up the old tower. Furthermore, there was an old ladder sitting at the base. We set it up, decided that the ladder was way too old and unstable, and gave up. But as we walked away, we all realized how much we wanted to get inside the tower. We threw around ideas for at least 2o minutes, searched the area for other props or tools, and finally came up with another idea. Using our belts, we added more support to the ladder, and then John climbed up and peaked inside the door. Unfortunately, after all of our efforts, we found that there was an iron padlocked gate inside. But at least we knew and wouldn't be haunted forever.

We got back to San Stefano and then took a bus to the other town on the island, Porto Ercole. This one was more designed for our taste, with few houses and many hills that held old Spanish forts. We did a little bit of hiking, admired the beautiful views, and then hiked back into town. It was afternoon by now, so after grabbing a beer, we took the bus back to the train station and made it back to Florence.

And so another weekend journey came to an end. I absolutely love these camping excursions, and this year has really introduced me to the world of backpacking. I can't wait to do more when I get back home, because I know that there are so many great places pretty much in my backyard.