This morning I woke up under the Tuscan sun. My alarm has just buzzed, signaling it is time for a run. But I have finally gotten my first full nights of sleep in my new bed. The European shutters are open and from my room on the second floor, I can see the clouds hanging in the sky. A breeze is pushing through the open windows. Maybe I’ll just stay in bed a while longer, run a little later today.
This is when it hits me. I really am living a dream in Italy. The fan is humming, adding to the silence of the morning and reminding me of the lack of AC in the building. The full picture comes into view. I am laying in my bed in a 13th century palazzo with my windows open, where I can see the Tuscan sky from my bed. God is good! I feel so blessed in this moment. A piece of time, a photograph, just for me! Soon noise will fill the streets below with the morning bustle and it will be time for me to get up and prepare my very first class. But for now, I think I’ll just enjoy this moment. I am in Italy!
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Finding Sansepolcro. Does it really exisit?
On Monday, Amanda and I left Rome for Arezzo, where we would catch a bus to Sansepolcro. This meant carrying my luggage all over again! Amanda was in the process of making a “list of the forgotten”. I was in the process of making a list of things I should have forgotten!
The commute from Rome to Sansepolcro revealed the truth people about my language skills. They are enough to get us around, but will defiantly need some work. Although, I was surprised by a pretty large Italian vocabulary, I could not seem to match the verb with the right conjugation. Also…soon to improve! We arrived in Sansepolcro around 3:30pm on Monday. At this point, we have been traveling since 6pm on Saturday night. Feeling a woozy, I am very content with my new home. Amanda and I spent the night in the Servi, an old nunnery that has been converted into a hostel. If you are coming to Sansepolcro this is a good place to stay for a very low cost.
The commute from Rome to Sansepolcro revealed the truth people about my language skills. They are enough to get us around, but will defiantly need some work. Although, I was surprised by a pretty large Italian vocabulary, I could not seem to match the verb with the right conjugation. Also…soon to improve! We arrived in Sansepolcro around 3:30pm on Monday. At this point, we have been traveling since 6pm on Saturday night. Feeling a woozy, I am very content with my new home. Amanda and I spent the night in the Servi, an old nunnery that has been converted into a hostel. If you are coming to Sansepolcro this is a good place to stay for a very low cost.
Now I'm Back!
It’s hard to believe, but I have made it back to Italy! It seems like yesterday since I left Ferrara. But then when I started speaking Italian this weekend, I realized I have had eight months of language plummeting! Soon to improve…
The past few days have been a balance beam between crash sleeping and hauling luggage. We finally moved in the Palazzo last night and I think I am starting to recover from the intruding jet lag. I could not believe it was possible for one to be in three countries in less than 24 hours. Needles to say, I do not recommend it! Although London was beautiful, it would be nice to see it with my eyes open. Amanda had just returned from a study abroad program in London, allocating her to be the perfect tour guide. Her sole goal was to keep me awake so that I would sleep when we made it to Rome. I literally wanted to melt into the streets on London. It would have been nice to just lie down, anywhere! During mass at Westminster Abbey I was ever so thankful when there was a call to prayer. This meant that I could close my eyes. J
Upon arriving in Rome I encountered an identify check. I was wrongly mistaken for a French woman, and then soon after asked if I was Filipino. But, I guess I had not opened my mouth yet. “CIAOOOO” Nope, I’m definitely American and Southern to be exact!
Navigating Termini, the train station in Rome, was second nature. It was very unromantic and almost redundant. I was not thrilled when I arrived in Italy, like I was the last year. Nothing was new and mysterious. I knew how to buy a ticket, how to board the train, and what to expect once I left the train station. It was just via Marsiala, the same street I left from on December 17, 2008. There were still funny men in hats trying to sale windup toys of David and overrated statues of the coliseum. This is when I started to worry. Have I made the right decision in returning to Italy? I quickly repelled this question to the back of my brain. In reality, I have 40lbs on my back and pulling another 85lb on wheels. Of course I’m insane! But, soon things will improve; it will feel like home again. The things I did not like about Italy will challenge me and the things that I loved enough to bring me back will become evident. I keep repeating this mantra in my head as we dragged along to find our hostel for the night. At this point, Amanda and I were not alone in out hostel hunt. A young Filipino boy, accompanied by his hesitant Italian friend, was ever so eager to help us find our destination. It first, I was a little cautious of his willingness to help. But, soon under the weight of my luggage I was thankful for this ambition and sure of his good intentions.
The past few days have been a balance beam between crash sleeping and hauling luggage. We finally moved in the Palazzo last night and I think I am starting to recover from the intruding jet lag. I could not believe it was possible for one to be in three countries in less than 24 hours. Needles to say, I do not recommend it! Although London was beautiful, it would be nice to see it with my eyes open. Amanda had just returned from a study abroad program in London, allocating her to be the perfect tour guide. Her sole goal was to keep me awake so that I would sleep when we made it to Rome. I literally wanted to melt into the streets on London. It would have been nice to just lie down, anywhere! During mass at Westminster Abbey I was ever so thankful when there was a call to prayer. This meant that I could close my eyes. J
Upon arriving in Rome I encountered an identify check. I was wrongly mistaken for a French woman, and then soon after asked if I was Filipino. But, I guess I had not opened my mouth yet. “CIAOOOO” Nope, I’m definitely American and Southern to be exact!
Navigating Termini, the train station in Rome, was second nature. It was very unromantic and almost redundant. I was not thrilled when I arrived in Italy, like I was the last year. Nothing was new and mysterious. I knew how to buy a ticket, how to board the train, and what to expect once I left the train station. It was just via Marsiala, the same street I left from on December 17, 2008. There were still funny men in hats trying to sale windup toys of David and overrated statues of the coliseum. This is when I started to worry. Have I made the right decision in returning to Italy? I quickly repelled this question to the back of my brain. In reality, I have 40lbs on my back and pulling another 85lb on wheels. Of course I’m insane! But, soon things will improve; it will feel like home again. The things I did not like about Italy will challenge me and the things that I loved enough to bring me back will become evident. I keep repeating this mantra in my head as we dragged along to find our hostel for the night. At this point, Amanda and I were not alone in out hostel hunt. A young Filipino boy, accompanied by his hesitant Italian friend, was ever so eager to help us find our destination. It first, I was a little cautious of his willingness to help. But, soon under the weight of my luggage I was thankful for this ambition and sure of his good intentions.
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