Prague:  I think this has been my favorite city that I’ve visited thus far in my travels while abroad.  I was just so pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness, architecture and immense detail.  I also didn’t realize the history that resides in the gothic looking city.  Wandering through the Old Town Square seeing the dark ominous historical structures were balanced with the surrounding pastel colored intricately detailed buildings.   We walked through the crowded square then followed all of the tourists between he swirvy cobblestone streets lined with shops, bakeries and restaurants until it finally opened up to the Charles Bridge.  Breathtaking.  The bridge is lined with tall dark statues and at each end there are tall archways guarded by men in costume (a bit cheesy but funny nonetheless).  Then over the right side of the bridge was my favorite view.  The glistening water enhanced the view of the Prague Castle which resides at the top of the hill, it’s dark detailed steeples surrounded by white and cream palace walls were like no other palace I’ve ever seen.  All I could think when I first saw it was, “Yep I’m going to live there someday.”

                Although the architecture and monuments are really something to remember in Prague, I absolutely loved the Lennon Wall.  It took us two days to find and multiple encounters of getting lost through the streets we finally found the graffiti wall that represents Peace and Love.  Although it was just a wall covered in graffiti the meaning behind it is what made the Lennon Wall so great.  I was told the wall represented freedom and having our own rights and celebrating our ability to be ourselves.  So after a lot of pictures of the wall Camille, Taylor and I decided to make our mark on the wall.

                “21.3.2011 A.H., C.D., T.D. If you’re too afraid to fail then you’ll never do anything original” we were trying to put something other than a peace sign with peace and love written by it.  But overall the Lennon wall was incredible such vibrant colors and beautiful graffiti.  The wall just enhanced my experience of Prague.  I loved the city and can’t wait to return to it.

Vienna:

On our second day in Vienna we ventured out to the Schonbrunn area to see the Hofburg’s summer palace.  The palace was beautiful and it was really interesting to walk through especially since we had an audio guide so we got to learn a lot about Austrian history, which I happened to love learning about. 

                But the part of Shonbrunn that was my favorite was definitely the zoo.  We had been spending days and days touring important historical buildings and seeing all the sights you are “supposed” to see in the cities we visited.  And I loved seeing them but we were at the point where we weren’t absorbing anything we were seeing and needed a break from it all.  So off we went to the Shonbrunn zoo.  And was it the perfect time of year to visit a zoo, there were a ton of baby animals everywhere!  My favorite however was the baby elephant, I named him Joey or Joe Joe.  I was so content sitting watching the baby elephant play with a tire while soaking up the sun.



Olympic Stadium



Munich:  Boy was Munich filled with stories…and incredible experiences.  The best part about Munich was being able to spend time with my cousin Elizabeth!  It was so nice being around family and sightseeing with her.  We enjoyed the open air market, German beers and buildings of Munich. 



Elizabeth sneaking in...



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Checking to see the coast is clear

 



            Unfortunately Elizabeth left before she could experience Springfest.  I headed to the German Springfest with a few girls I’m studying over here with and boy was it quite the experience. 

Springfest!

            I walked into the room and everyone was wearing the typical German gear, suede shorts with suspenders and flower patterned dresses with frilly blouses.  Groups were standing on tables singing and dancing with their friends while cradling their liter mugs of beer.  Making my way over to my friends I notice that they are intermixed with Germans enjoying the festivities.  So after about an hour I have my beer in hand and I’ve met most of the other people at our table.  Then I had to smile when I noticed one particular German enjoying Springfest. 



            He was identical to my cousin…Peter Christ.  I ended up sitting next to him and couldn’t help but feel like I was actually with Peter.  He was constantly smiling, cheers’ing everyone (or as the Germans say Prato) and of course singing along with the typical German songs being played.  I only wish that I had taken a picture with my new friend who I kept calling Peter even though it wasn’t actually his name (which I can’t remember).

            Springfest was a great ending to an incredible week of adventure. 

Italian Sun definitely beats Minnesota Snow

Its 60 degrees out today with gorgeous blue clear skies.  I’ve already been for a morning run, my roommates are still sleeping (exhausted from their trip to Paris).  Next after showering I pack a lunch of carrots, an orange, apple and some crackers.  With my t-shirt and sandals on I head toward the river.

                I make my way to make what I think is East of the Ponte Vecchio (two bridges down) to a park I pass while running.  I find a place down on a cement ledge, past the Italian sun bathers sporting their speedos and underwear.  Only in Italy will Italians strip into their underwear in public just so they can absorb and enjoy the sunshine and warmth.  I hunker down right infront of the mini waterfall the noise creates a soothing lull with the occasion burst of noise from the Italians fishing a little way down the river from me.

                I open my new book with my ray bans protecting my eyes from the bright sun that is hopefully giving me a tan.  Four hours pass in the blink of an eyes, I get up and walk the ten minutes back to my apartment.  I'm so glad I don't have to endure the 20 plus inches of snow back in Minnesota with the less than pleasant temperatures.  I love this weather.

Italian Motivation

               Now there are no gyms here, so now I’m really confused as to how these Italians are so dam skinny.  But I’ve been trying to start getting into the habit of running.

                I haven’t taken it up in the past because I am really bad at motivating myself to keep running when I get tired.  But it was a beautiful day here in Florence, 50 and sunny.  So I got ready, pulled out my running shoes, grabbed my iPod and headed toward the river. 

                I start at a nice slow jog, dodging the hoards of Asian tour groups and other visitors to Florence for the day.  I head toward the other side of the river (it’s usually less busy, it’s the more residential side).  Viva la Vida is on my iPod and this run is going great.  I find myself smiling as I glance over the river to see beautiful yellow and cream ancient buildings glistening from the reflection of the river.  Rowers cover the river trying to absorb the nice weather.  I can’t believe I’m actually here right now.

                But then I start getting tired, so I focus on my run more now.  But as I turn to look straight forward again I notice a gooood looking Italian running toward me, so obviously I keep up the pace I’m at.  “Just keep up this pace at least until you pass him,” I tell myself.  But after I pass him I notice another, and another and another…this routine of good looking Italians runners continues until I find myself out of breath finally stopping in front of my apartment a good 45 minutes later.

                Italy is the BEST place to work-out.  I’ve never been so motivated.

Fun in Tuscany

This morning we woke up and headed to the train station where we were to meet our tour guides for the day.  My roommates and I along with a few of our friends signed up to go horseback riding in the Tuscan countryside.

In true Italian fashion our guides show up for our 9 o’clock meeting half past nine.  We sauntered toward the van that was taking us into the countryside but of course not before we stopped at a café for complimentary cappuccino and pastries.  We finally made it to the van with Nico, our wonderfully bald Italian tour guide.  40 minutes, one extremely bumpy and speedy ride later, we pull up to the town of Monteriggioni. 

We toured the small town that was nestled on top of a hill and surrounded by castle walls.  Here we took great pictures of the scenery and made our way into a small winery where we had a wine tasting.  Not only did we get to taste locally made wine but we also tasted their home-made honeys and olive oil, yum.  Next we made our way to the ranch where we would start our horseback ride.

Pulling up I notice a ton of dogs scattered everywhere and many Italian workers talking quickly and loudly between each other.  Now I don’t know how my guide got this notion into his head, but for some reason he thought that I was a good rider.  So they gave me a “energetic” horse is how I believe they put it.

Arcadia came to me neighing, bucking her head and stomping her feet.  My nerves built up just a bit at that point.  After a bit of struggling on learning how to get onto my horse (the ranch owner grabbed one of my feet and knees and basically threw me on top of the chestnut colored horse.  I sat there nervous, but just kept petting Arcadia and talking to her hoping that I’d create a “relationship” with her before we set out.

Next thing I know we are trekking up the first hill, once we reach the top all I can see is miles and miles of hills covered with villas, vineyards and rich burnt colors.  The two hour ride was wonderful and I didn’t run into any difficulties with my energetic horse Arcadia other than a few instances where she began to gallop (that was interesting). 

Once we returned to the ranch I pet my Arcadia good-bye and off we went have our five course lunch at a vineyard/olive grove/restaurant.  Our long table overlooked a small lake (which reminded me of home) at the bottom of hills covered in either olive trees or vineyards.  Our first course was bruschetta that was bursting with flavor, accompanied by their own white wine.  Then came what the chef called ‘pizza’ (fried dough) with prosciutto.  I think that one was my favorite, the warm doughy bread mixed with the salty delicate prosciutto was incredible.  Then we were served an array of deep fried vegetables like eggplant, zucchini, cauliflower and a mystery vegetable (we couldn’t figure out what it was).  Switching to their red wine just in time for the true Tuscan soup.  I didn’t particularly like this so called soup, it had soaked bread in it so the texture was very mushy.  But the flavor was incredible, I’ll give it that.  Then we had this rich creamy risotto.  The freshly grated cheese and zesty onions made the dish.  Finally we ended with a pane cota, interesting.  It looked like jello as it wiggled while being set in front of me, but I was brave and took a bite.  It tasted like ice cream flavored jello.  It was good but I couldn’t fully enjoy it because the jiggle of the dessert caught me off guard.

Stuffed and a bit tipsy we set out for Florence.  You would think that our tour guide has some cheesy Italian music to play, but no.  What comes on the stereo but Thriller by Michael Jackson.  We all burst out laughing and spent the next few minutes dancing and singing the song while swerving through the breathtaking Tuscan hills.

It was an amazing day and I found myself having to remind myself that I wasn’t dreaming.  I actually am in Tuscany.

Protest in Florence

13.2.2011

                Today in Florence Camille and I decided to go do homework at a café on the other side of the river (this is supposed to be the more “Italian” side of Florence).  Little did we know a huge protest was taking place.  From what I can tell it is to protest against the leader of Italy who recently was caught being promiscuous with underage girls.   There were huge banners and signs saying things like “Italy isn’t a brothel”.  At one point we stopped to watch (partly due to the fact that we could get anywhere because it was so crowded).

                All of a sudden the entire group of protestors seemed to stop and infront of us was a group of drummers.  They were playing beats while everyone around them was clapping, dancing and swaying along with the music.  People were even adding in to the music with their own version of symbols (pot and pan lids that they would hit with a wooden spoon in order to add a little something to the drum beat). 

                The protest was probably one of the coolest things I’ve witnessed to date.  Although it was a protest it almost seemed joyous.  Everyone seemed to be involved and everyone was unified.   There were children walking and dancing along next to their mothers or even grandmothers.  Men and women, young and old, it didn’t matter who you were everyone was welcome.  The protest stretched for a good couple of miles hundreds of people were cheering, dancing and chanting.  I’ve never seen anything like it.

The Fish Market in Venice

                On our last morning in Venice we decided to go to the Rialto Market.  My mom had suggested it saying the fish market was really fun to see.  So we headed off from our hotel making it to the market around nine or so.  The market was completely alive from tourists taking pictures to the vendors and locals making selections to purchase. 

                We slowly weaved our way through the smelly market, noticing things such as squid, octopus, clams, monk fish even eel!  Everyone seemed to be at the market, my favorite “type” of shopper had to be the old couples.  They’d be moving around in their tweed and fur jackets hollering at the vendors to get service lugging their grocery pull carts behind them as they held hands and scooted from stand to stand finding the best selections.

Throughout our walk through the market we constantly kept stopping to watch the vendors precisely and perfectly fillet any fish that was handed to them.  For me, while watching them a face of disgust and amazement would appear on my face.  Disgust when they would yank out the guts or easily pull off a fish head and amazement at the precision and ease they would execute and decapitate each fish with.  Of course I wasn’t the only one to notice my facial reactions, eventually no matter which stand we were observing the vendors would see our faces and laugh at us (in a friendly manner of course).   And of course the vendor who noticed would tap all of his fellow workers and eventually all the vendors would be smiling and laughing at us.

The fish market was probably one of my favorite parts of our trip to Venice.  Is it weird that while surrounded by breathtaking buildings and picturesque scenery my favorite part was the smelly fish market?  I think I’m my mother’s daughter.

The adventure of the leather market…

Today I got up early and met up with some other girls who didn’t have class, including my two roommates Camille and Taylor, and we set off for the leather market also known as the San Lorenzo market.  I went there with the intention of simply looking around, I was not ready to make any big purchases.  But I wanted to look into a book bag/purse, a leather jacket and maybe a leather duffel bag.  We arrived at the market around 9:30ish, of course we had to stop at a café for espresso and croissants.  The girls we were with went to a leather bag store they had in mind in order to pick up a few things.  We have found that the vendors will love anyone who buys something in their store (especially if you make multiple purchases, this often leads to “special friend price”).   The vendor at this particular bag shop was in love with my friend Michelle.  Before we left the shop he asked to take a picture with her.  We all laughed and of course Michelle said yes, little did we know he was going to sweep her off her feet while saying “amore” over and over again – only in Italy.

                Next Camille, Taylor and I went off just to browse through some jackets nothing too committal.  We saw a nice shop off to the side and decided to wander in.  A few hours later and several shops involved all three of us had our very own genuine Florentine leather jackets.  It was one of those purchases that we went into saying, “oh I’ll just try it on” and once seeing ourselves in the mirror absolutely fell in love with the jackets.

                I think my favorite part about all of our jackets was how completely different they were.  Though yes they are all brown and yes from the same market.  None of us purchased them from the same vendor.  My vendor was Marco, his family is from Sienna and he makes the jackets himself!  He also sends leather jackets to his brother who has a leather jacket shop in California.  I like to get to know the vendors when I make purchases, can you tell?  I wasn’t in the shop when Taylor purchased hers but Camille’s vendor was Valentino.  Valentino was a beautiful Italian man that smiled the entire time we were in the shop (I think he has a bit of a crush on Camille).  His family is from Florence and he and his father gave us a quick lesson on leather…

                Lambs skin jackets are softer and will shape to your figure the more you wear them.  Both Valentino and his father prefer lambs skin, “it doesn’t get scratched and over time it will end up looking vintage.”  There is also calf skin which is much more rigid and becomes lighter and lighter over time but is a more heavy jacket.

                Anyway, back to our jackets…The other reason I love all of our jackets is because they are all completely different styles.  We each have unique stitching, cuts and details to our own jackets.  I like this because I think each jacket goes with our different personalities. 

So our adventure in the leather market I would say was a success.  We went into it not intending to spend 120 euro (originally 300, have to love the sale season) but each of us came out with our first true Italian leather jackets.