Cheeky

This weekend, we went up north to Liguria to The Cinque Terre, a remote part of the Italian Riviera. No museums in sight; simply sun, sea, sand (read: pebbles), hillside houses, honey, pesto, and pure, unadulterated Italy.

We stayed in Riomaggiore, my first look at the fascinating tangle of pastel homes. After climbing approximately 217 steps (twice) we reached the top of the town where I spent too much money on an especially fantastic dinner (spinach flan, grilled vegetables, pesto, and the shared desserts of coffee crème brule, caramel apple cake, and this pastry thing with honey and cheese). Since we ate especially early, we had the entire restaurant and it’s incredible view to ourselves, and finished with enough time to catch the sunset over the ocean.

(the top of Riomaggiore, and the view from our restaurant)

In the morning, we began the first hike, Via dell’Amore. There were more “love locks” like in Florence, and more Italian graffiti along the walls (I haven’t put pictures up yet, but most Italian graffiti I’ve seen consists of “mi manchi gia” (I miss you already), and “buongiorno principessa”. None of that threatening gang I’mma-cut-you crap).

(Potter Puppet Pals anyone?)

("And if you need me and don't find me, look for me in a dream...I love you")

The road led to the second town of Manarola. Tiny and picturesque.

(camping?)

(the piazza of dead birds?)

(nature woman. ha. ha. ha.)

We then took the train to the center town Corniglia. However, the train did not prevent us from walking up 382 switchback steps to the hill-top town. To reward ourselves, we ate some Rick Steve’s recommended gelato (as they use their homemade honey to make it, that is the delicious flavor I chose).

Being in Italy, and especially when it concerns food, you start to not think – just do. Which is why we laughed later after we realized that we ate the gelato simply because it was there and we wanted gelato, and didn’t think that right after we were starting on a 4 km hike to the next town. Whoops.

Despite the lack of sustenance, the hike wasn’t the hardest I’ve ever been on. Though it was the most beautiful, interesting, possibly dangerous, enticing one. No railings, despite having about a 3-4 foot leeway between you and a cliff, and fragmented stone ground left me on the tip of my toes and wondering what was around the corner.

As it turned out, around the corner was the next town Vernazza, overseen by a ruined castle and a stout stone church. Here, both the tourists and the natives learn to live the phrase “vita pigra di Vernazza” or the lazy life of Vernazza. We also had the most delicious pesto bruschetta ever (another “after hike” reward), and then took the train to the last town.

Monterosso al Mare, the only Cinque Terre town built on flat land. After arriving in Monterosso, only one thing was on my mind: beach.[The town does sport a 16^th century look-out tower, and a Nazi “pillbox,” a small, low concrete bunker where gunners hid (during WWII, La Spezia, the town right before Riomaggiore, was an important Axis naval base and Monterosso was bombed while the Germans were there), but I’ve put it on my “next time I’m in Italy” list).The water is warmer, bluer, and clearer than in California, but I definitely prefer my spacious, sandy beaches, where people don’t like bikinis or speedos as much.

Sad and pathetic story: as we were enjoying the beach Friday afternoon, two Italians approached myself and two other friends. After chit-chatting a bit, they ask us where we were from. I respond with "California." He looks at me..."You are very white for a girl from California," turns to my friend, "it is strange. She is very white."

Dang it.

(hahahaha sorry I just love this)

Tocca Ferro

Whoever said that Italy was unbearably hot during July and August was seriously disturbed, (knock on wood, or as the Italians say, “tocca ferro,” touch iron).

But seriously, the past two weeks I have had to run to shelter from the rain probably more than I ever had to in my life.

However, this surprising change in weather has been wonderful for sleeping (I cannot sleep when I’m hot. And as they don’t believe in air conditioning and we don’t have fans, it is an often enough occurrence). The cooler weather has also made exploring Siena and other day trips more enjoyable.

On one such day, we had been stranded at home from a planned bus strike. I kid you not. All week on the bus schedules there was an extra announcement saying “21 luglio 2011 sciopero nazionale di 24 ore.” Yes, they have planned national bus strikes. And apparently they are quite often because when we told our boss, she was not in the least bit surprised and instead responded, “Yeah! Festa!” So although no buses meant we couldn’t go anywhere exciting, we were able to explore more of the beautiful Tuscan area surrounding our house.

(path during our little passeggiata)

(i want that)

(FYI) Everyday I am in Italy everyone else is less and less likely to receive any goodies (including postcards. The postcard is cheap. The postage...not so much). I am a very bad shopper (or is it good?) and am really good at finding really wonderful things (why yes, I did need that bag and those shoes, and that dress too, thank you very much).

Money has also been spent on little day trips to Firenze (Florence) and another medieval town named San Gimignano.

Besides providing the two best panino’s I have every had (1: salami, pecorino, artichokes. 2: pot roast ham, pecorino, salsa verde (this sauce made from parsley. All I know is that it was freaking fantastic), it was also absolutely beautiful. As I will be there for two days before leaving, I didn’t do everything yet, but I did get a taste of the Duomo and Baptistry, the Accademia, the Leather Market (well my wallet did anyways, and Ponte Vecchio (I wish I could afford for my wallet to have a taste).

The Accademia is host to a lot of different pieces, but really the only important one is the beautiful David by Michelangelo. And he is definitely beautiful. And a lot bigger than I was imagining (luckily I knew that big was 17ft, and I was able to help three older American women who were sounding very ridiculous trying to convert cm/m into feet). Michelangelo truly was a master. There was a block of marble chilling in some church courtyard, he asked to have it, and “voila!”- The David. As I said before, I am a hand person. No matter what innocence or purity the position of his stance or the youth in his face might provoke, those huge, glorious, beautiful, perfect hands had all the basis of power and capability to slay Goliath.

Ponte Vecchio is the most unique bridge I’ve ever seen (it is said that it only survived World War II under Hitler’s direct orders); piles of shops hang from the edges and every shop has pretty, sparkly things in them that I cannot afford.

Along the bridge, you will see railing after railing filled with locks. My roommate overheard a tour guide relating their purpose and I thought this was pretty cool. Basically, when you’re in love, you right your own name and your significant other’s name on the lock (i.e. Ariel + Eric = True Love), lock the padlock along the bridge, and throw the key in the river. That way your love can never be broken. I know, so precious.

San Gimignano is the town in between Siena and Monteriggioni, but very very touristy. Besides the tourists, I loved it. Quaint, beautiful, few cars, and the “best gelato in the world.” Now I haven’t tried every gelato place, but mine was seriously freaking good [tiramisu, praline, and meringhe (which was chocolate, cherries, and meringue)]. So good. Definitely worth a trip back, if only to try some different flavors.

(yes, a gelato world championship does exist)

(on the road to San Gimignano)

The Italian Experience

Last week was a single event that almost made me not go to Italy period for fear of missing it.

HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 2.

I had some serious doubts about coming over seas because there was no way I was waiting the amount of time from when it came out to me getting home to see it.

Fortunately, the movie actually was out two days prior to the states so ha!

Unfortunately, it was dubbed in Italian. And Italians kind of suck at the whole “cinematic experience” thing.

Seriously.

1) They don’t sell tickets in advance. In California (or Utah) I would have already bought my ticket for the midnight showing at least a week, if not a month more, before. My friend had gone to the movie theatres a week prior to ask if we could buy tickets early; the woman looked at her like she was crazy. On Wednesday, my ticket was bought only twenty minutes before show time. I thought that was even crazier.

2) They don’t have midnight showings. Not only that, but there were only three different show times to choose from period the end.

3) They only have one person selling tickets and the desk, not booth.

4) Desk makes for zero order in line.

5) One, very small snack bar with one person working.

6) I swear I’ve seen bigger screens in people’s homes than that was supplied in theatre. Those theatres also had better sound. And probably would have had stronger 3D effect.

7) Mormon Standard Time=Italian Standard Time. Yes, even my Harry Potter started late.

8) An intermission.

I practically started crying (and probably scarred/scared my friend sitting next to me with my shriek of indignation), when I thought my movie had broken as Harry was entering the Room of Requirement to look for the lost Diadem. Turned out it was an intermission.

9) There weren’t crazy people dressed up or acting like the characters for the first showing. In fact, it was the smallest crowd for an opening day movie that I’ve ever seen.

10) Only two theatres in town, a single movie per theatre (the other one currently showing Transformers).

Despite all of these things, I was not disappointed with David Yates’ beautiful interpretation of one of my favorite books. And I definitely cried a lot more than I should have.

And some things were even funnier and more beautiful because of the Italian. (“Buongiorno." "BUONGIORNO?" "Ho fatto una stupida.") (“Quanto tempo è passato Lily?” “Sempre.”)

However, it is still number 1 thing on my to do list when I get home (I’m talking pit stop at the Arc Light theatre on the way home from LAX).

The biggest advertisement I've seen, showcasing your three different time choices.

The size of the screen. And intermission.

Graffitti by the movie theatre!

If you are not already convinced I am a class-A NERD, then you will after understand how stoked I was for my Saturday night activity: MEDIEVAL FESTIVAL! Woot!

I’ve never been to one in the states, and I seriously doubt it could ever be as cool as the one I went to. Why? It was even in a for real medieval town.

Monteriggioni: di Torri si Corona. La Festa Medievale.

The weekend before they were celebrating the 13^th century, and we went on a night featuring the 16^th (approximately 1554 AD during the Renaissance when Charles V’s imperial troops, led by the Marquis of Merignano, tried to hold their control over the Monteriggioni Castle while Sienese soldiers, supported by the King of France, tried to fight back for the city). Food, market booths, costumes, era battles, everything was just so cool. And the ambience……gah. Really no words. There was always a show or music (Medieval drumline: so sweet!) playing on stage or around the small city. The last show was truly incredible: Angels vs. Demons complete with stilt walkers and LOTS of fire. If only we had gone Sunday, they we could have gotten a firework show too (since I missed them on the Fourth of July).

And the whole experience was made even sweeter because real Italians took us! Well that sounds awkward.

Explanation: my roommate Makenna works in a physical therapy office. One of the girls there, Elena, is about 24 and invited Makenna to go the festival with her and some friends. Makenna and I had already talked about going and so she pulled a pass for me too!

This meant the first time in a baby Italian car with an Italian driver. They all desperately need to work on turning. Desperately.

But really it was awesome to hang out with Italians that were close to your own age, not in a home or work environment, but a real hanging out/going out experience. They were awesome and I was so happy to have been included. I will also probably never go to a lame Medieval Festival in the states set in some lame, non-legitimate field.

Little boy in the drum line!


The city of Monteriggioni

nom nom nom

I know a lot of you must be worried that I have not been eating enough and been getting by on the skin of my teeth and starving every night.

This is true.

My life is hard and my stomach and taste buds suffer greatly when I have to eat such horrible things as these everyday:

When we don't crave gelato, we crave Magnum bars. This particular breed is milk chocolate and hazelnut.

The Tuscan classic: melons and prosciutto. Surprisingly, really delicious.

Stuffed Zucchini from my Nonna's garden.

Siena specialty cookies: Riciarello. So good.

Homemade Pesto.

The best panino I have ever had: Salami, artichokes, and pecorino (a Tuscan specialty cheese from sheep, I will be searching long and hard for pecorino when I get home ).Strawberry Tiramisu.

Apple cake.

A Kebab. So good. Complete with french fries.

The Tuscan classic pears and pecorino cheese.

Gnocchi.

Ciocco-cocco (chocolate coconut) and pistachio.

Fresh bread with olive oil and salt every night. I swear I add more olive oil to every morsel of food I eat every night.

Fried zucchini.

Close enough to dessert.

Fresh bruschetta.

But seriously, almost every night after dinner one of us will say:

“Nonna! Sto ingrassando!” (“Nonna! I’m getting fat!)

To which she lovingly reples:
“Si, stai ingrassando.” (Yes, you’re getting fat.)

But according to Italian/Nonna law, bread, gelato, and olive oil don’t actually make you fat. And since that is the majority of what I eat, I think I’ll be ok.