Just when I thought that wine country was gorgeous, I had the absolute privilege of seeing and visiting Poppi.  We left Florence early Sunday morning to begin our journey further northward. The bus ride wasn’t too long, considering the time was used to nap and get work done.  The driver let us off in some random parking lot in the middle of nowhere, as he did not want to negotiate the tight turns and narrow streets of the mountain town. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to drive a bus around there either.  We were forced to lug our luggage up a steep incline, but we were rewarded with breathtaking sights of the region. Everything smelled so fresh and authentic. It was quite quiet and serene, very little noise and congestion compared to a place like Florence. Of all places to stay, we discovered we were given room and board in a convent. The nuns were super nice and helpful, and we rarely saw them. They were like Catholic ninjas or something.  Our typical crew of Gabby, Jordan, Phil, Zayne, and I decided to roam town before we had to be anywhere. We staved off hunger by purchasing snacks at convenience stores intermittently littered throughout the neighborhood, and by going to a cafe that sold pizza and sandwiches. I ordered what I believed to be a hotdog, but was greatly dismayed when I discovered that I had been given some triangular sandwich piled with ham and coated in a mushroom-based spread. Not wanting to seem rude or disrespectful, I made it look as if I ate the food, but really I just tore away pieces of it at a time and dropped them into an empty potato chip bag I had been carrying around with me.  The first responsibility of the day required us splitting up and going for a language and culture lesson. My group was lead to the international school where we learned some phrases, and then we took a small bus to see some sights. It was there that we reconvened with the others. After a scenic walk downhill, we participated in a guessing game and then visited an old church. The space was used by early Christians and, as usual, was repurposed from a pagan temple. Unlike previous examples we saw, the pagan portion was preserved underneath, as the church builders didn’t have a clue than an ancient civilization lay underneath the ground. The pagans, the Truscans, were pretty mathematically-inclined and socially adept. They were pacifists (sadly, they were conquered), and they produced stunning artwork. Their idea of the hurricane equaling life relates to the belief that life never really ends, it’s infinite, in some semblance.  We hiked through some woods, saw Dante’s exile shack (that had the town’s water supply), and then we made our way to the castle. Plenty of pictures were taken before, during, and after the tour, then we went home and had a terrific dinner with some esteemed locals, where...

Poppi was way more than I had expected! The first sight of the countryside just made me fall in love. I am definitely a nature loving girl. The landscape was absolutely breathtaking. The numerous hills and villages down below looked as if they came right out of a storybook. And that was just the beginning. Who would have thought that we were going to be staying right beside a real medieval castle? That was a dream come true for me for two reasons. First, I have always loved fairytales and little kid stories about a knight saving a princess that was trapped inside a castle, guarded by a dragon. Castles, dragons, and dungeons; what kind of story could possibly be better? Second, I have always had a weird interest in all of the things from medieval times. It is something that just seems to capture my attention. Touring the castles is what made the experience even more real and exciting. One of my favorite parts of the castles were the drawbridges. When I was a kid, it seemed like something to just dream up, but seeing it in person makes it so real. People actually needed to have a moat surrounding their castle in order to protect themselves from enemies. I find that so cool! The dungeons were very intriguing as well. Seeing real human remains in the dark, cold room was thrilling. I would absolutely have loved to stay in Poppi longer! Maybe one day I’ll have to go back and buy that castle so that I can truly live out my fairytale.

Venice may have been a fish, but I was grumpy. Hunger and a lack of sleep are the typical culprits behind my bad moods, and I was beleaguered by both. Not to mention, the cost of going to Venice (roughly €200 between rooms and transportation) for only a night, mixed with the prospect of not riding in a gondola, made me question why I had even left Florence to begin with. Had I not gotten homework done on the train, I would’ve considered the day wasted. The excursion was thrown together a little haphazardly, evidenced by differing train schedules, lost colleagues, and general confusion. Not a great way to begin a stay in a foreign city. Plus, the invasive influence of tourists and foreigners on the city was a little repulsive to me, to say the least. I know that’s like the pot calling the kettle black, but I feel that the purpose of our travels has been to assimilate into the culture at large, nor adulterate it with hallmarks of our own. Initially, after the rooming situations were decided upon, the plan was to meet the others (who were staying in another hotel) at s basilica and explore the city before having dinner and becoming privy to Venice’s night life.  Seeing another religiously-affiliated building did not sit well with me, as I had already seen a lifetime’s worth of churches and shit within the first couple days. Needless to say, I wasn’t too enthused.  I journeyed over with Mary and Mindy for a little while, while I searched for a quick snack to ride me over until dinner. Unsatisfied with what I saw, I splintered from the group and started my way back to the hotel. I stopped at a small convenience store where I picked up a soda, some Pringles, and a panini, which I took to the room I shared with Phil, to devour. After a brief nap, which helped my cause greatly, Phil and I reconvened with Gabby and Jamie and decided to explore Venice on our own terms. Not to mention that the trip would’ve been a total waste had we not taken advantage of any opportunity to see something new and exciting.  We were all of the opinion that Venice would be best explored on foot. True, we could have seen much more of the city, in a shorter amount of time, had we taken a watercraft, but if we did that, our explorations would have been limited to mere surveillance and reconnaissance. Through our feet we became extensions of the city itself.  Alleyways provided perfect opportunities for photos and to remove ourselves from the environments replete with tourist traps, crowds, and sensory overload; instead, we searched for quieter and more authentic Venice we knew was hidden away somewhere. Cozy souvenir shops, “urban coves” where people likely “hooked up,” children playing in the street after a day at school, awe-inspiring views, and provocative graffiti were among the amazing things we came across in our...

    Mornings in Florence are much different than let’s say a place like Slippery Rock. In Florence, the first thing you wake up to is the bells of Giotto ringing through your ears, mimicking the pulse of deep heart beats. Your nose breaths in the city’s life filled with fresh baked pastries and hot creamy cappuccino. That alarm clock of yours is useless, let the city take you in like a little orphan. It may seem that this rich city is a bit hectic, but get lost in all of its beauty. Since getting lost is the first step in searching for yourself. It is impossible to go search for yourself while sitting in your apartment. I mean, it’s clear that you know where you are at. So let loose and live a little.    Exploring takes a wondering eye, like the great navigators that stumbled upon the Americas. For my free day in Florence my group and I were planning on going to go to the Boboli Gardens. This plan shifted, since we were even trying to save the lint in our pockets. Like Moses and his followers we walked a bit aimlessly then stumbled upon the Museo Zoologico La Specula. Our thriftiness was pleased with only having to forkout 6 hard earned dollars.       Odder than the museum itself, the place was practically empty. Hundreds of piercing eyes stared straight at you. From reptilian species to a vast number of flying creatures, these eyes were piercing. They lay captured, trapped, embarked around a dirty glass window. I for one found it amazing and could just imagined a smoking rusty musket ball penetrating the beating heart of a gazelle in the heart of Africa. Only for the little guy to be skinned alive, stuffed and placed in some rich Guy’s house until it was donated some time later. Your imagination of animals running through your dreams can easily have been hunted down and slaughtered just to be studied and framed. It amazes me. Maybe I’m just over thinking it?      Even though the zoology section of the museum is quite fascinating, the human wax figure collection easily had the ability to shock you. I felt like I was walking around to check out the band Tool’s next music video. The wax did not even look fake. The flesh resembled human and I was shocked by the fact that the wax was not extremely decaying. Overall Florence took me on a ride, on a little motor scooter into paradise. 

Many think that making wine is a simple and easy process, but that is certainly not the case. Growing up in an Italian family that enjoys to make their own wine has given me an appreciation for the art. As a little kid, I enjoyed going down into the cellar with my dad and pap, watching them create their masterpieces. They even made special labels specifically for their homemade bottles of wine. It has always been something that was intriguing to me. As I have gotten older, I have become even more interested in Italian cooking, especially the concept of wine. Recently, I have asked my pap and father if they would teach me how to make wine because I believe it is a great skill to have. And I also was thinking about possibly opening my own vineyard one day. Visiting the vineyard has opened my eyes even wider to the art of wine making. Anyone who has said it is quick and simple is extremely wrong. Making a good wine takes patience and research. You not only have to pay attention to the types of grapes being used, but more importantly the types of barrels being used, how long the wine is being aged, and much more. This experience opened up my eyes to how even the littlest detail can make a huge difference in how the wine tastes. To me, this process is truly an art and I hope to one day make it a part of my lifestyle.