Worldly Conquests

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read but only a page"

“When in Rome…”

Oh wait, we were in Rome, that magical city which pretty much dominated the Western World for a significant amount of time. As soon as we hopped off the train and onto the platform we noticed: it was a huge metropolitan train station that looked fancier than most international airports with a mix of high-end boutiques, fast food chains and loud eastern music. Marveling at the grandeur, we followed the instructions from the hostel down Via Marsala and turning at Via Gaetta till we rang up to the hostel. After checking in and being moved to their second location a street over, we were pleasantly surprised that they upgraded us to an apartment suite instead of just one room.

Stunned at how all the accommodation worked out so perfectly throughout the trip, we settled in and soon headed out to explore. It was Thanksgiving Day and a friend’s birthday; a celebration was in order. After stopping by Piazza de Republica and admiring the first glimpse of modern Roman architecture down the ubiquitous Italian high-end shopping street, we headed in search of dinner. A graduate from the University who now works at the Vatican suggested we try the “restaurant in the alley” that night which would steal us away from tourist traps and indulge our palettes with sumptuous local fare. After meandering through the busy streets for over an hour and expertly using the free map we were given, we entered the inconspicuous red-and-white checkered door to a dimly lit room that could comfortably fit no more than ten tables.

There was no menu, simply the house specials, and tons of free bread and red wine. A heaping of gnocchi and many bites of pizza later, we were at the customary post-meal phase so typical of Thanksgiving. We thanked them profusely and left to see what Rome looked like by night and get lost in the cobble-stoned streets and narrow slanting alleys. Unintentionally and miraculously, we ended up in front of Trevi Fountain – its sculpture reflected exaggerated motion and dramatic poses – the largest Baroque fountain in the city. We grabbed a more-than-generous helping of Gelato and with cameras at ready, we turned around and tossed coins into the sea-blue waters over right shoulders. This, according to legend, will ensure we return to Rome one day.

Trevi Fountain - close your eyes and make a wish

Heady with happiness and excited for the morrow, we tucked in for the night. Early the next morning commenced our visit to the Vatican and St. Peter’s Basilica, adding another country that has been visited this trip. The Vatican Museum offers discounted student tickets and a great way to spend about at least three hours. Along with ancient Egyptian artifact sections and Roman sculpture exhibitions, the exquisite yet classic Rafael rooms stood out by a mile (by a kilometer really, since we’re in Europe). The four Stanze di Rafaello form a suit of reception rooms, the public part of the papal apartments. They depicted running themes such as the victory of Christianity over paganism, the heavenly protection granted by Christ to the Church, worldly and spiritual wisdom and harmony, and the lives of Popes Leo III and IV. In the Stanze della Segnatura, the first one to be decorated by him, it focuses on the four great arts: theology, philosophy, jurisprudence and poetry. Each is exemplified in a fresco of its own, but the School of Athens masterpiece takes the crown. It represents the degree of knowledge or truth acquired through reason, namely the esteemed practice of philosophy. It is widely believed that nearly every great Greek philosopher was portrayed in it, but it is not completely certain because Raphael himself never really indicated thus. It was challenging but rewarding to search for Socrates, Aristotle, Alexander the Great, Plato, Euclid, and even Pythagoras (I take back all the negative energy I sent their way during many a dreary math class in school). I could have sworn I saw Leonardo Da Vinci wink back at me.

Of course, the long stroll at the end led to the provocative Sistine Chapel. Although many famous artists contributed to this famous abode of the Pope, Michelangelo’s in particular stand out for a reason. The Last Judgment was as grand as can be imagined – although very embellished and not exactly true to biblical detail, it still boasts of bold colors and emphatic bodily contours. The Creation of Adam – the famous one with God and Adam almost touching at the fingertips – is smaller than expected, but still provokes a powerful emotional response. It is interesting to contemplate his choice of the appearance of God as an elderly and wrinkled white-bearded man while Adam, who is supposed to have been created “in the image and likeness of God”, is depicted in the nude with a powerful physique and a sense of vulnerability as he faces Him.

With that to keep the wheels turning, it was time to visit the actual Basilica. After a security check slightly more invasive than one at an international airport, walking through the majestic columns shields from view the striking St. Peter’s Square with its Tuscan colonnades and giant Egyptian red-granite obelisk. With the elliptical open air papal audience arena behind you, all you can do is nervously walk past the pokerfaced Swiss Guard and into the Cathedral itself. It is no wonder it is the most renowned work of Renaissance architecture. It marks the burial site of Saint Peter, one of the twelve apostles of Christ and the first Bishop of Rome (he was thus the first in the line of papal descent).

Wouldn't ever want to cross him

Past the façade of the square and through the narthex entrance, walking inside the Latin Cross-shaped structure imposes a sense of wonder at the superior granite, marble and stone work. “An ornament of the Earth”, the interior is of vast dimensions and rows after rows of pews allow for the faithful to pray and relish this moment of reverential pilgrimage. The real surprise of the day was yet to come; a real treat and out-of-body experience.

St. Peter’s tomb is a site in the necropolis under the Basilica. It includes several graves and burial sites and also lends its fame to the initial reason for the construction of the Vatican in the first place. During the time of the alleged martyrdom of the Saint, the landscape was that of a hilly terrain with a lone Circus of Nero arena distinguishing the surrounding land. Said to have been crucified upside-down and buried away from prying eyes there, St. Peter remained peacefully so until Constantine I’s reign when it was partially demolished and the first Vatican Church was established. Centuries of history, controversy, mystery and unwavering faith later, the 20^th century saw secret excavations during the World Wars of the site to determine if indeed, evidence held true to legend.

How did we learn all of this? Just our young and attractive British tour guide who guided us through a private tour underneath the Basilica and into the grave-site to – again organized by the student who graduated earlier and who works there.

In the year 1968, on my birthday, the current Pope announced the remains of St. Peter had been uncovered. After disappointing finds in the actual hole where he was rumored to have been placed, an Italian expert arrived on the scene and quickly cleared things up. After examining the archaeological evidence, she stumbled upon symbolic illustrations on the side of an additional ‘graffiti wall’ placed next to the original burial site. With Greek letters and symbols, it was deciphered to read “here lies Peter” (or, “here is buried Peter” which we actually understood with the amount of Greek we have already learned). To stand literally ten feet away from, and actually see, the bone of the body was an incredibly powerful moment. Whether or not the proof was compelling or not, the mere suggestion of it has brought countless to this holy space to admire and pray here. Knowing it was an experience only privileged few receive annually, we took advantage of the moment to observe the magnitude of our situation and promptly bombarded our generous host with a hoard of questions and remarks.

Inside the Imperial Basilica of St. Peter

Leaving St. Peter’s and the Vatican with that piece of precious understanding put many things into perspective. It certainly evoked much thought and consideration regarding the basis for, the controversy surrounding, and the prevalence of the Church and Christianity. Next on the schedule was walking all the way back to the center of the city to meet up for dinner with a group of friends. Along the way were stops at many famous piazzas with elegant carvings and tall arching vaults. The Spanish Steps is a set of…surprise surprise…steps; they connect two piazzas with a Church standing at the very top. Along the way up is the house where English Poet John Keats lived and died in the 19^th century. Most famous for its media appearances in movies and music, the steps glitter with lights, fountains and the smiles of visitors beholding the dazzling sight.

Dinner at a local ristorante and then we met and chatted with some German students staying at our hostel. A few beers later, a very loud football game later, and many weird music videos later, it was time for bed. The next morning was just like all the others: full of sunshine, a wholesome breakfast (of fruit, yogurt, bread and an omelet) and lots of promise. A twenty minute walk later ended us in front of the Coliseum. Considered one of the greatest works of Roman architecture and engineering, it is an elliptical amphitheater. Throughout history it was most famously used for gladiator performances, entertainment, residential dwellings, executions, and even dramas based on classical mythology. In the upper floor of the outer wall of the building is a museum which boasts of hoards of archaeological artifacts from the ancient Roman Empire. The territory spanned across continents, claiming people from all walks of life. The museum very aptly dedicates much information to the memory of the victorious empire. In the Eulogy of Rome (and in the museum itself) is epically stated: “neither the sea, nor vast distances of land could prevent one from being a Roman citizen…all opportunities are open to everyone”. It proudly narrated the means by which Rome ruled – very successfully – most of the “civilized” world.

The 'diploma' certifying when a resident of the Roman Empire became an honored Roman citizen

Walking through the arena and the 50,000 capacity audience stands, the stories take your through an emotional journey of a time of pleasure, excesses and an overall good time. Betting, gambling and lots of drinking used to happen during the sacrifice or game being held. Animals were hauled inside using a complex system of pulleys and levers. Extreme hierarchical differences were reinforced by means of priority and ranked seating. Some shows could have lasted for days, and people had nothing pressing to attend to that would distract from the ensuing source of entertainment.

The stunning views aside, right by the Coliseum is the Ancient Roman Forum, Constantine’s Arch and many old monuments erected, destroyed and reconstructed. The city is a treasure trove of Baroque-style architecture and is full of rich diversity reflected in its design. The Il Vittoriano is a monument built in honor of Victor Emmanuel; he was the first king of a unified Italy. Standing tall amongst much controversy, it is built entirely of blindingly white marble and I somehow managed to pass by it at least twelve times during the course of the day (intentionally, of course). Climbing the side steps to the back of the building (without pausing; much harder than it looks) led to a secret chapel. A secret chapel that turned out to be huge with marble and wood inlaid interior decoration. Competing in size and opulence with even St. Peter’s Basilica, the real surprise was the royal orchestra that happened to be performing at that very moment.

Constantine's Arch

In patriotic memory of Victor Emmanuel

Vibrating through the body and touching the heart, the music was lavish and stately. Feeling slightly out of place, tourists understandably did not stay longer than needed to snap a few pictures and walk out with a definitely bounce in their steps. Onwards and forwards, the Pantheon was offended it hadn’t been visited, and so with the trusty (and already well-worn) map provided by the hostel, we meandered north through more piazzas, shopping districts, as well as a demonstration. It felt like Athens all over again. Literally, as we turned the corner we were stampeded by a mass of young students carrying flags and chanting as they swept us along with them. Managing to extract ourselves and finding the closest shopkeeper, we grilled her at length about what was happening. She said what we’ve all heard before: nobody is happy with the European austerity measures. Even “Italians can demonstrate, like the Greeks” she said. The police were unprepared however, since it is not a common occurrence. They were geared in full preparation and stationed all across the city. With helicopter back-ups that patrolled the skies for the rest of the day, the city was torn between its nature to play host to the visiting world and remain a home for those who live there and who need their opinions to be expressed.

A “temple built for all the gods” soon became a Roman Catholic Church and is now the resting place for a couple of Italian kings who were interred there – the Pantheon is an extremely well-preserved granite colonnaded structure. Its coffered, concrete dome is the largest unreinforced dome in the world, and the building has been in uninterrupted use since the 7^th century. It is open and free to the public, who can walk around and spontaneously join any mass that happens to be taking place if they are lucky enough. Clearly a symbol of national pride, the square around it also plays to the respect and popularity attributed to the Pantheon.

The Pantheon basking in all its glory

Rome wasn’t built in a day, as evidenced by the plethora of things to see and do. A necessary experience is a walk along the Tiber River and a stroll across the ridiculously small “neighborhood” of Isola. The style of buildings doesn’t change dramatically, but it becomes more upscale and residential. Charming Churches with ringing bells and schools letting out for the weekend exposed how the real “Romans” currently live. To stop for a cappuccino, a pastry and a chance to watch the world is a relaxing way to spend an evening by the water. You can climb down the numerous bridges and walk right next to the River if it so strikes your fancy. Of course we did, strolling by the lapping and rushing waters for a while. Then we walked around the two buildings on Isola which is on one of the bridges connecting the two sides of the city. The crème de la crème of society live in this part of town, and it provides a secluded walk through the Autumn-themed streets and the chilly evening wind. The only companions are the smell of something baking, the running footsteps of children in the playground and the distant tinkling of the perfect cup of freshly-brewed coffee.

Evening always comes too quickly. Being winter, the nights come sooner and the darkness hits deceivingly early. A quick freshening up and we were out again to make the most of our last night in Rome. A little research and we committed to the “Graffiti” trattoria; without reservations (honestly, who ever remembers to make one of those?), we cajoled our way into acquiring a table in the best part of the restaurant, and even bargained for free wine and bread. The menu was extensive and offered avant-garde options like wrapped veal, pastas that most probably do not exist outside of Rome, spiced clams, and pineapple infused mushrooms. We ate a lot. And then some more. It was good. Very good.

Brilliant performance by the Royal Orchestra in the hidden Cathedral

It seems almost unnecessary to describe what happened next. The last few hours of the whole trip. It all boiled down to this evening. We saw everything we wanted to see, and far beyond what we hoped to. Ignoring the 6.30am departure time the next morning, we bravely set out on the last and final expedition.

The quest for the best gelaterias in town began quite a while ago – Grave conversations with locals, arguments with other tourists, and meticulous direction-drawing on the map led us to three special locations. The first one was fittingly the oldest one in Rome. It is simple, elegant and hits the spot. With a few classic flavors, this one-of-a-kind homemade ice-cream artist doesn’t even offer cones because they take away from the humble yet effective taste of his cold creations. It also happened to be the cheapest we encountered during the whole week. Next up was a favorite with the tourist crowd because it has over 150 different flavors. Overwhelming to say the least, they understand the tough decision they force upon you and thus allow endless samples. Right when I though no choice could possibly be made, I settled on a triple-chocolate concoction that made my heart very happy indeed.

It was hard to say goodbye to the 147 flavors that I didn’t get to devour, but the final stop compensated spectacularly. Rivaling the first oldest shop as the best gelato in Rome, the only customers in this bakery were locals. We hit the jackpot. Forgoing extravagant blends of tastes, we kept it delicious and classic (and sinful). Mostly because we were full beyond measure, the timeless chocolate-caramel-Irish cream sufficed as we had no regrets (until the next morning) about consuming all of it.

Quintessential image of the city

Yes, gelato was definitely a huge part of this trip, along with other culinary masterpieces we were fortunate enough to taste. Monuments and historical sites enhanced our classroom and textbook education, showing us that seeing truly is believing (and admiring). The people in Italy were so sincere and hospitable, welcoming us with warm smiles (and warm rooms, thankfully) and were always dressed to impress. The travel was hassle-free for the most part, and gave us beautiful glimpses of the dazzling landscapes and different parts of the country. The presents we brought home will always remind us of an unforgettable and perfect time. It was time to return to Athens and (the more comprehensible) Greek, to the routine of classes and assignments, but also to find a renewed appreciation for our new “home” away from home. Only a few more weeks till the adventure comes to an end; it’s now or never.

The Journey Onwards

"Travel is more than just sensing a new surrounding – rather it is a change that goes on within: in the deep and permanent ideas of living"

Arriving into Firenze (Florence) central train station demands basking in the delightful scenery the rural Italian countryside has to offer. Tuscany is the birthplace of the Italian Renaissance, and its capital Florence is considered the ‘Athens of the middle ages. It was meant to be – we were destined to visit this rustic region. After a short bus ride to our hostel to check-in, we went back again to the central old city to start exploring.

San Lorenzo Basilica is one of the many churches in Florence that claims to be the oldest. Behind it is the San Lorenzo Mercato Centrale, inside of which lies a labyrinth of culinary stalls offering exotic elements like wild boar, cow’s stomach, black corn ears and pig’s intestines along with classic favorites like ripe figs, spicy prosciutto and nutty cream cheese. It was a simultaneously furtive search for samples of the enormous chestnuts and purple grapes, as well as a swift escape from summons to try the liver of [insert animal of choice here]. Once outside again, we strolled through the famous leather stalls, all of whom sold high-fashion authentic Italian leather that caught our eyes.

San Lorenzo market full of leather and leather...and leather

We saw a leather jacket that we liked in a stall, passed by it and walked into the outrageously overpriced retail store instead. We promptly walked back to the stall, walked past it into the store behind it, walked through that and ended up in an ominous looking warehouse with rows upon rows of leather jackets on display. Choosing the right size in an instant, the owner of the store started talking to us in every single language possible. From Kashmir, he spoke to me in Hindi, to us both in English, to my friend in Spanish, and to us both again in Greek. Alone spectacular in itself, he then proceeded to explain that there was a “special 50% discount for you because you are from my country” (a recurring theme in Europe that I am not about to start complaining about). It was a done deal – except for the fact that it didn’t fit quite right. Not at all a problem: within ten minutes he had cut off, resized and re-stitched the sleeves and sides till it looked tailored to fit.
More than the jacket itself, the experience was well worth it; especially the solid thirty minutes I spent seriously contemplating a spontaneous impulse purchase of a beautiful leather trench coat that I promise was calling my name. Sanity prevailed and I meekly walked out empty-handed. The next test of resolve was at the Lindt store that almost cruelly dared me to ignore its taunts. It was hard, but not impossible to say no to the mint, coconut and hazelnut drops of heaven. By that point it was definitely time for dinner. An artsy trattoria (restaurant) with the friendliest waiters and a big warm earthen pizza oven by the entrance served us so well that we returned there another night to dine again. One word: Finnochiona. With a slight hint of fennel, garlic and white pepper, this cured meat (the speciality of Florence) is a bite into savory pleasure. Delicate slices with balsamic vinegar to enhance its smokiness made this the perfect accompaniment to the fagiola zuppa (white bean soup) that night. Dinner was a success, but desert was yet to be judged. Suspiciously, gelaterias were just about closing by then and we were almost afraid that night would be the first without any. Au contraire; the bus stop by our hostel revealed a cozy and late-night bakery with the richest assortment of flavors imaginable. After ‘tasting’ over seven of them, I settled on a combination of three different chocolate ones. Perfection is a wonderful feeling, especially experienced through taste.
The next morning saw us leave the hostel bright and early for a full day in the old city again. The real main church of Florence is the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, or simply the Duomo. It is a magnificent marble paneled gothic-style cathedral with green, white and pink highlights that take your breath away each time you turn the corner of San Lorenzo market and behold the entire structure. Inside are the conventional yet nevertheless remarkable mural motifs of biblical scenes and a high altar that gazes down at the worshippers. We chose to climb the four hundred and sixteen steps of the adjacent bell tower, and thus we witnessed the most inspiring panoramic view of Tuscany one can only dream of experiencing. Almost symmetrical rows of terracotta roofs all aligned to meet at the base of the rolling countryside hills. Huffing and puffing, we admired the expansive view and promised to somehow acquire residences in the distant horizon that exuded traditional and idyllic archetypes.

Duomo with marble facade and Renaissance golden doors

The Duomo sits behind its baptistery and this building is famous for its golden doors. The artistic decoration on these doors are said to represent the first ever elements of the Renaissance. We stood in awe and pretended to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. Along the same vein, one cannot visit the region of the origins of the Renaissance and not visit Michelangelo’s David himself. Standing tall and towering over the rest of the exhibits at the Accademia, the statue is very…intriguing. The hands are disproportionately large because when it was sculpted, it was meant to be atop the Florence Cathedral. The whole body is an amalgamation of perfect aspects of the human body simply synthesized together. To make David “more beautiful than God”, Michelangelo added the beautiful elements from various real people and created the sum of these parts as the biblical depiction. The uneasiness that washes over the viewer due to the unnatural portrayal is overcome, however, with a sense of wonder at the contours of the nude male stance that has historically been interpreted as one of the most unsettling albeit marvelous masterpieces.

Piazza della Republica: marking the site of the ancient Forum and the center of the city

Continuing our ambling about, we stumbled upon a Jewish synagogue and other intermittent huge structures that functioned for administrative and official purposes. The whole city is intended to allude to a sense of grandeur and majesty. Nobody looked out of place, and both tourists and locals alike blended seamlessly into a crowd of sophisticated style. Next was the Piazza della Signoria that hosts the Palazzo Vecchio (Old Palace) as the town hall of the city. It is a massive, Romanesque fortress palace and is one of the most significant public places in Italy. It also happens to be a great spot to eat a relaxed lunch, watch the world go by and make fun of little children who are eating servings of gelato twice the size of their heads (now that is good parenting).

Tuscany showed us its magnificent landscape with charming low hills covered in olive groves, vineyards, woods, isolated cypress trees and adorable old farmhouses – all part of a landscape that seems to have been carefully tended to since the dawn of time. It is a refuge for the soul as well as an ideal place to get lost in contemplation; no wonder the Renaissance had impetus to start here and changed the rest of the world. It certainly struck a chord with my heart and sang a tune my spirit was only too happy to comply with. Ponte Vecchio is a medieval stone arch bridge across the Arno River in Florence. Its claim to fame is the array of shops and activity that happens in the bridge: all the residences and commercial estates are built into the structure itself and it stands testament to life that prevailed and prospered once upon a time. Currently, it is inundated (in a positive way) with gold, silver and jewelry stores. We didn’t see too many couples; either the men conveniently crossed it off their maps or the women stole their wallets and magically found their way there. At the very least, it offered, if not any expensive purchases, a dramatic view of the urban dwellings of Florence proper in the foreground contrasted with a far-off, almost magical rural setting in the background. A suitable souvenir came in the form of an Italian-bred English-educated artist who produced touching geometric representations of Tuscan themes. After a warm conversation with her about her life and work, we left with a new friend and colorful keepsakes that accurately yet creatively captured the essence of the region.

It doesn't get any more perfect than this. The view from Ponte Vecchio bridge

Dinner that night was at a lively tourist pizzeria with good music, interactive chefs and run-ins with familiar faces halfway across the world. Full though we were, the usual splurge (financially as well as nutritionally) on gelato from the same bakery near our hostel rounded up what was a long but thoroughly satisfying day. The only hitch was on the way back. In Europe, public transport tickets must be self-validated. Many people lose interest and simply reuse old tickets and ‘stamp’ them repeatedly because honestly, “nobody ever checks”. Wrong – they check sometimes. And those sometimes are enough to make it worth it to always have a valid and usable ticket. After spotting the conductor hopping onto the bus and make his way through all the passengers, we pressed the emergency next stop button and ran off the bus and all the way back to the hostel fueled by adrenaline, sugar and bizarre laughter. Needless to say the one time we decided not to renew our tickets was when we nearly paid dearly for our mistake.

With that bout of excitement and a good night’s rest, the last day was actually all set up to take place in Pisa. Not just the one picture in front of the leaning tower, but spending the full day in the dynamic city that produced famous personalities such as Andrea Bocelli and Leonardo Fibonacci. The minute we glimpsed the tower from afar, the first reaction was that of laughter. It was the funniest thing I had felt: just looking at it was humorous and it was amusing to try and wrap my head around it. Physically I understood exactly how the silt and weight of the building allowed for the comical slant, but visually the anomaly was just plain silly. It is surrounded by well-manicured lawns and the day was bright and sunny, inviting all visitors to lie in the sun and enjoy looking straight-on at the lopsided bell tower known so fondly the world over.

The straight baptistery, the straight cathedral and then the not-so-straight bell tower

Apart from the tower and of more significance are the cathedral, baptistery and cemetery of the Cathedral of Pisa. They are impressive marble structures with intricate architectural features that are very aesthetically pleasing. As the premier college town in southern Italy, it was a welcome change to be surrounded by locals our age and perks available for “EU students” (which we fortunately are) all around. The friendly white-stalled local street market was selling traditional cannoli cream sweets, chocolate pies and sugary treats. After much (almost too much) tasting and settling on red-pepper-and-walnut pesto spread, we boarded the train back to Florence. Much easier said than done – after what seemed like predictable the hour-long train ride, we disembarked onto a station that we thought was Florence. It wasn’t – far from it in fact. After nervously asking around, running across rail tracks multiple times and dancing on the platform to the music from the speakers, we caught the next train for the thirty minute ride back to the correct Firenze SMN station.

Too many run-ins with near-disastrous situations seemed to be the running theme of these few days. As a surprise the last night in Florence, I dragged everyone to a legendary ‘secret bakeries’ at midnight. Most retail bakeries receive their delicacies from central bakeries that start rolling out baked goodness from midnight to around 3.00am. Although not completely legal, locals will knock on these sign-less, light-less buildings and creep in to snag all the yumminess. For a few Euros, the bakers hand everyone little samples of fresh pastries, sandwiches and of course a twinkle-eyed smile to go with. It was heavenly: although we were clearly out of place among the regular customers and the police guards who were sneaking a quick bite as well, we were clearly a source of great amusement to everyone who chuckled at our innocent and inexperienced conduct.

Bird's eye view of the city: this is what dreams are made of

Some places offer great cuisine, some offer scenic views. Others will reveal hidden mysteries, and still others provide a personal search for fulfillment. Florence attacks directly on all the senses and effortlessly captures the heart. A graceful city if there ever was one, the city is ever-so-poised in its demeanor and leads to a blissful discovery of elation and yearning. It certainly worked wonders with our hearts, and raised the bar even higher for the next and last leg of an already-incredible trip. To Rome we departed, for more sights to see, more people to meet, more food to eat and more of life to fall in love with.

The Colors of Life

"A person often meets his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it"

The train pulled into the floating station and we excitedly trickled out onto the Island of Venice. It looks nothing like how it is portrayed in the media or popular entertainment – it is infinitely more charming and pleasing to the eyes. Everything functions via water: taxis, public transport, ambulances, trade and even the postal service. With a pass for our entire visit granting us unlimited access to the ferries, we hopped onto the nearest one on the way to the Island of Lido where our hotel was. Off the south-west coast from central Venezia, Lido is 12 km long. In our opinion, it has the best pizza and the best gelato in all of Venice. After checking in and settling down we were determined to explore every inch of our ‘home Island’ that night.

Quintessential view from Rialto Bridge (overlooking where we ate dinner that night)

It was a fairly local town with hardly any tourists but huge residential complexes that probably house the rich Italian elites who escape here in the summer. Mansions rose magnificently around every corner and it was possibly the only place where we saw any real cars on the road; dozens of cafés, bars and specialty food stores beckon seductively to the lone passer-by. We ate dinner at an upscale restaurant that served the best red wine we’ve ever tasted and claimed to have over two thirds of the tables reserved for loyal patrons who would show up around 10.00pm.

It had to be done: stratiacella and hazelnut gelato completed the night. It was fudgy but creamy, sweet but not overpowering, and as close to perfection as one can hope to realize. We silently devoured each mouthful and gleefully envisioned nights and nights of endless deliciousness.

What better cultural experience than to watch a movie in a foreign language? Watching the new 007 James Bond movie in Italian without subtitles in the cozy theatre behind the crowded gelateria in Lido, Venice. It goes to show how universal our ability is to pick up on subtleties presented to all our senses – we were confident we understood more or less the finer points of the plot and were quickly proven right by the internet. A great start to a city waiting for us to befriend it; befriend it we did as we rode countless water boats, walked practically the entire central island, hopped off a boat at a random island on a whim, visited three different islands in addition to the main one, and did justice to the familiar souvenirs urging us to take them home.

This about sums up Venice: adorable and unbelievably enchanting

Starting at the very top of the Grand Canal the next day, we made our way through the busy market streets as well as the simple alleys that revealed to us people hanging out of their windows conversing with each other, hanging up their laundry in the middle of the street and cooking something that smelled inconceivably mouthwatering. We browsed the famous Rialto street market, bought Venetian masks, carnival decorations and out-of-season-strawberries. We were astounded by Piazza San Marco and the Church of St. Mark, both the principal public spaces in Venice. We ate lunch with the pigeons by the sea-side (really, it is the lagoon-side) and walked quite a ways along the coast, stopping at the Bridge of Sighs, the Navy museum, street shows and the public gardens. It was surreal: we were in Venice – the city above water, the city of romance, the city of color, and the city of magnificent architecture. The plethora of Churches and grandiose buildings glistened powerfully in the early morning dew and mist from the waters. Words are not enough to do the view justice, but maybe pictures might help.

St.Mark's Church in Piazza San Marco

Artsy snapshot of the Bridge of Sighs (made of limestone; windows provided convicts of their last view of Venice before their imprisonment)

Nonchalance is this Church's middle name. Inside we witnessed a Catholic service (the Nicene Creed) in Italian

As we tiredly but cheerfully sat down to dinner by the water, we marveled at the clichéd-ness of the situation. With portions of dinner outrageously insufficient, we still savored the novelty of eating dinner by the Grand Canal in Venice. What was savored even more was the dark (and I mean almost black) chocolate gelato with mint chocolate chips that followed. Twice…because once just wasn’t enough that night. It was a moment of delirious happiness and the night could not have gotten any better. However, being the semester that it has been thus far, of course it did. It always gets better: with impressive and unexpected twists of events, we returned to the hotel to discover that Notre Dame is ranked number one for college football. Not knowing too much about the sport, it still means the world to me. While I am having the most spectacular time in Europe, I can only imagine the blissful delight and exhilaration that is gripping campus. It will be the best welcome home present. Go Irish!

Halfway done with our time in the city, the next day was dedicated to the islands of Murano and Burano. And the special island we spontaneously disembarked onto. After what seemed to be a never-ending ferry ride to the island, when we finally arrived we were more than satisfied. The glass-making collection of Venetian Islands boasts of prosperous beginnings and thriving trade. It consisted of streets and streets of neatly lined and decadently stocked stores selling original Murano glass. Imagine the wildest contortion of glass possible, and then add about twenty different colors. Make it shiny and translucently radiant and you have only come close to beholding an image close to the actual magical objects of wonder.

Glass fire in the middle of the paved walkway. Sent chills down the spine

All but a couple of furnaces were closed that day and we hesitantly approached the biggest retailer hoping to get a demonstration of glass-blowing. As we walked around and headed hastily towards the heat and the light, we were overjoyed to learn that they decided to give us a free presentation. It was more than we could have hoped for. With front row seats and interactive moments, we were mesmerized by the speed, accuracy and flair that go into a work of such perfect art. It ended with the glass-blower presenting me with a free glass-flower painted a delicate shade of baby pink. Italians always know how to win hearts everywhere. Ecstatic with our purchases, we left and headed to the next island.

On the way we took a small detour and landed in Cimiterio, the only cemetery in Venice. It was a huge island and we walked past the legacies of those lost over the years. With beautiful graves and burial gifts, they ranged from the early 1800s to the present. It was established by Napolean, before which people were simply buried in parish plots across town. With a long philosophical discussion about life, death and whatever else may or may not exist to keep us company, we paid our tributes and made our way to Burano. Think Venice and think pastel colored houses with black wrought-iron balconies. Think bridges over narrow waters, a peaceful distant melody that harmoniously drives the relaxed way of life, warm comforts that awaken the palette…it is Burano you’re dreaming of. The most colorful assortment of vivid buildings side by side is on display, sure to stun you and never let you put your camera down. Boats and gondolas float enticingly nearby, innocently watching the world go by. The intricate lace pieces produced by the island are the icing on top of the cake. It is impossible not to sound cliché while describing the beauty there is to behold.

No such thing as a favorite color in Venice

With the evening getting dark and chilly, we pensively made our way back to Lido for a quiet dinner by the hotel. It was quiet alright, but it was also the best pizza in the whole world. Everything about it: the crust that effortlessly flaked off, the tangy tomato sauce highlighted the flavors of all the toppings, and each bite was irresistibly devoured. For dessert we strongly decided against the nutella pizza, but weakly gave in to the gelato cravings that hit duly as soon as we stepped outside. It was a necessity, and wasn’t regretted in the slightest. Tucking in to a nostalgic movie was a great way to end the day and end our visit to the city. We awoke fresh and eager to continue our journey, gratified by our immensely fruitful stay in Venice.

Hidden alleyways that only the lucky few stumble upon

‘Twas the city that promised many things and had tall orders to live up to; it truly was the city that exceeded by all measures everything we could ever hope to experience. Before we boarded the train we were approached by some bold young school-going children who inquisitively interviewed us about where we are from. It was highly amusing and enlightening to meet them and their teacher and be a part of their assignment to “see the world and the people who come to visit the city of Venice”. Talk about perfect goodbyes. Onwards to the next leg of our shenanigans – Florence: under the Tuscan Sun shall we forever be.

"To build a city where it is impossible to build a city is madness in itself, but to build there one of the most elegant and grandest of cities is the madness of genius."

New Faces

"One's destination is never a place, but rather a new way of seeing things"

Italia. We were off to Italy. It was time for a break from school and an exciting trip outside Greece. The quintessential student’s trip through Europe was the theme of our miniature version of the tradition. A short metro ride away and we were at the Athens International Airport, ready to board the ridiculously inexpensive flight to Milan. After some slight luggage-related hassle and a full flight passed in blissful slumber, we landed that evening in the fog-laden and relatively deserted Milan airport. The language issue hit us again: now we were the tourists in a European city with no prior knowledge of the language. We were now Greek students in Italy – the dynamic notions of identity and association is all-powerful in shaping the lived experiences of the world. We associate with being Greek students on holiday in the land of pasta, pizza and gelato.

The iconic Rinascente mall

A long bus ride into the city and we disembarked outside the Milano Centrale train station and into the crisp Italian night. With no internet access and hungry stomachs, we persevered through the following: haphazard class registration for next semester during the flight, essays due past the deadline for class that night, no knowledge of how to reach the hostel from the station and a hefty roll-on suitcase to lug around. Definitely a great start to a promising trip. Things started to look up as we solved all but one of those issues in quick succession. We began walking to the hostel with a vague yet hopeful set of directions, and discovered how metropolitan Milan is. High-rise commercial and residential buildings are embellished with a blend of classical and modern architecture. Balconies have black wrought-iron gothic patterns on the upper floors of most buildings, the lower floors of which are sleek metal panels and floor length glass windows.
After passing by about twenty McDonalds and ristorante-cafés, we desperately accepted how lost we were and hopped onto the nearest metro. Reaching our stop and getting out, we unanimously decided on food: we needed it right then, and we needed lots of it, and it needed to be full of love and comfort. La Cucina materialized out of thin air – it was brightly lit with a nautical theme of wooden panels, navy steering wheels, submarine windows and live sea-faring music sung to a guitar, both courtesy of the jovial and bald Italian nonno (grandfather). Best of all, two-thirds of the menu was all pizza. A welcoming gesture that greatly satisfied our bellies and our desires for fresh basil, mozzarella, tomatoes and prosciutto.

Milan's train station

A short walk later and we halted to a complete stop. In front of us stood the address – 24, Desadario – with the correct name of the hostel. The only problem was that that was all that was visible. It was only one single shady sign for Hostel Colours, with boarded up windows and a massive sealed metal garage door. Banging on it a little seemed to help though; the door clicked open and revealed what lay ahead. Delirious with laughter and disbelief, we decided we had nothing to lose, and we ventured inside; it was full of retro furniture, bright solid colors on the walls and a large interactive social lobby. Another long sigh of relief. We checked in, figured out logistics, and settled into our ‘multiple occupancy room’ with two other American college students actually backpacking through Europe together for six months. Their next stop was surprisingly Athens – we gave them tips to last them their stay there, told them how to eat, where to roam, and what to expect.Wide-awake and fresh the next morning, we expertly boarded the complicated metro system to visit the cathedral Duomo di Milano (Dome of Milan). The structural protagonist of the piazza (square) it magnificently rises sky high in front of a statue of Victor Emmanuel II (the first King of Italy). Unsurprisingly, it is the largest cathedral in Italy, and the fourth largest in the world. Its gothic exterior with sculptures, bell towers and the golden statue of Madonna suggested its intricate and decadent interior. Indeed the sheer monumentality of the structure was unified beautifully with the impressive altar, the infinite rows of pews, the ominous confession boxes and the biblical excerpts depicted in large projecting reliefs along the walls. With long stained-glass windows to illuminate the darkness and a dozen canvas renditions of the Early Christian Martyrs hanging in the middle, the basilica stands proudly in the heart of central Milan.

The mother of all Italian cathedrals

Realizing that tasting original Italian coffee was yet to be accomplished, we strolled around the outdoor mall (La Rinascente) located adjacent to the square. Containing endless high-end boutiques, the structure also had ceiling murals and quirky architecture features. We relaxed at a ristorante and made our way back to the train station. Tickets were purchased, and with a last look around the city that acquainted us to Italy we boarded the commuter rail in the neo-classical European railway station. Presently looking out the window and watching rural northern Italy zoom by, I talk to three Italian college students about their favorite cities in the country and personal anecdotes about our next stop. Time to arrival: 1 hour, destination: Venice. Ciao Italia.For us to go to Italy and to penetrate into Italy is like a most fascinating act of self-discovery...back, back down the old ways of time. Strange and wonderful chords awaken in us, and vibrate again after many hundreds of years of complete forgetfulness

"For us to go to Italy and to penetrate into Italy is like a most fascinating act of self-discovery...back, back down the old ways of time. Strange and wonderful chords awaken in us, and vibrate again after hundreds of years of complete forgetfulness"

Journey that Mattered in the End

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by"

A trip to northern Greece quickly shattered any delusions we were under; just when you think you’ve seen Greece, make the journey up to Thessaloniki and you will instantly swallow your words. It is the second-largest city in Greece, and is the capital of the Central Macedonia region. It also shared equal status with Constantinople as the ‘co-reigning’ city of the Byzantine Empire. It also graciously hosted our short weekend visit and ensured we left with the best impression of it.

After a full day of classes, the overnight train took us to the city by 6.00am on Saturday morning. Too groggy to fully commence our expedition, we sat in the corner of the massive train station by the warm welcoming smells of the bakery and watched commuters journey on. It was a company of three; we planned out the next day and a half full of interesting sights and places to visit.

Figuring out the public transport system takes a little practice. The buses never really leave when they claim to – the whimsical schedule is more of a suggested guideline. Buy a ticket either at a periptero (kiosk) or on board the bus, but absolutely do not forget to validate it in the innocent-looking check-in machine. We settled in for the bus ride to the ancient site of Pella, most famously known as being the seat of King Philip II and his son Alexander III. It was a metropolis with an impressive complex of palaces, a central bustling Agora (meeting place) and luxurious private houses.

We had to request a stop at the site and hopped off the bus into what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. We walked up a road that resembled the quintessential farm with wide open harvested fields, a scattering of barns, and lots of chickens. There were signs that told us we were heading in the right direction, but the signs never corresponded to actual visible points of reference. With our backpacks and humor, we strode on until we abruptly hit a huge statue of Alexander the Great in the center of a large square with a figure of Nike on his palm. This promising landmark showed us the way to the museum of the site. It was also modernized and reconstructed during the Olympic Games, and stands as a testament to ultra-sleek architecture characteristic of government initiatives for the same. With tourist season long gone, everyone stopped to stare as three young foreigners navigated their way around the whole weekend.

All public museums are free to students in Greece (something to miss once we leave) and we happily enjoyed a solid chunk of time all by ourselves in the museums we visited. Known for its exquisite mosaics, Pella survived up until the 1^st century BC when it was probably destroyed by an earthquake. In the museum and at the actual site we saw the original mosaic patterns displayed in the House of Dionysus and the House of the Abduction of Helen. They were all either elaborate geometric designs or scenes with people. They served as enchanting floor decorations in most entrances and entertainment halls of palaces and important buildings.

Alexander the Great, with goddess Nike leading the way

After we gazed our fill and were awkwardly followed closely by the museum guards, we vowed to find the hidden site. The map pointed us one way…it was definitely not the right one. It wasn’t the case that we read it wrongly either: there was only one main road, but it was not on the right side after the first intersection. After forty minutes of walking with blind faith, we approached a dead end. Two more steps towards said dead end and on the left was the site. Laughing mirthlessly, it defiantly dared us to walk through the gates and into the space we desired to explore for quite some time.

The fountains, wells, cisterns, well-paved roads and the dense hydraulic mechanisms all testify to the high standard of living enjoyed by the residents of the settlement. We walked through the heart of the city, the Agora, and came across private houses, large mosaic tiles in various public spaces, both Doric and Ionic columns and evidence of strong fortifications. At the end, we wandered off a beaten path and entered what seemed to be an ongoing excavation of workshops and kilns where pottery and material processing surely took place. There was a huge hole in the middle of a courtyard that ran across another room and ended in a pool structure. The high level of cultural production was confirmed by the object in the museum.

Only after we exhausted every inch of the site did we listen to our grumbling appetites and headed off in search for a hearty meal. The town was almost deserted save for a few locals working outdoors. Unhopefully did we wander, fortunately stumbling upon an adorable taverna with a wooden balcony and colorful décor inside. The waiter was Greek-American and sat with us as he described his life and how he came to be where he is now. The food was impeccable, and far less expensive than we’ve ever encountered. Ravenous, we ate till we could no longer; it took a while. After bidding our goodbyes and walking the lonely road back to the suspicious bus stop, we waited for a while at a souvlaki stand on wheels where the man helped us determine when, where and if the bus would eventually turn up.

Everyone's got mail

In the meantime we wondered ever since we arrived about a sign that read: “multi-chambered tomb”. Intrigued by the lack of further directions, we went in search of it. It ended up being in the backyard of someone’s farm with barbed wire all around because it had closed for the season. The sign depicted colorful chambers within and a staircase led ominously to something we couldn’t see. We stepped back, assessed the situation, looked around, and decided it looked too inviting to pass up. A foot on the lock and over the fence we hopped. Adrenaline racing, it was quickly extinguished when we realized the stairs led to a sturdy door that was looked. Definitely impenetrable. We had our fun, and as we turned around to jump the gate again, we saw it. In apparent slow motion, a truck drove into the area, picking up dust in its wake. Our heart rates flew sky high as we instinctively made it over to the ‘legitimate’ side and waited with bated breaths what this man would have to say to us. He stepped out of the car, looked confused, and then broke out into the broadest grin, chuckling while he said, “It’s okay, you’re not the first and I hope you won’t be the last to try that”. With that, we apologized and learned that only the museum could open the door, and we all-too-hastily rushed to take leave of the site.

With that in mind to keep us alert, we patiently stood at the bus stop and got in it without really glancing back. We switched buses, asked around, and finally made it to the center of the city to our hotel. Inexpensive though it was, the front manager was the chief reason we had such an enjoyable time. He told us all there was to know about getting around the town, what to see, where to eat and what to expect. The rest of the night was spent exploring the streets. As Greece’s college-town, Thessaloniki reminded us that Greece has so much more to offer in terms of entertainment and social atmosphere. We happened to spend the weekend there which coincided with the final day of the International Film Festival and numerous college-sponsored music festivals. Interspersing these events, we also checked out the Roman Forum in the middle of the main park, countless Turkish baths just sitting along the sidewalk, many mosque-turned churches, the Arch of Galerius and the White Tower (which used to be a prison but the last convict was freed after he agreed to whitewash the walls in return).

The Roman Forum, adjacent to the Public Gardens

Dinner was another splendid affair with delicious food and free alcohol and desserts (because “[we] three American girls should have the best time in Greece!”) from a traditional Greek taverna. Greeks are so fond of being outdoors that, even as the temperatures steadily drop, they insist on sitting outdoors at cafés, bars and restaurants. How? By having tall fire heaters strategically located along the streets and plastic shelters to ensnare the warmth so endearingly produced. Full yet again, we meandered with great difficulty back to the hotel and promptly fell asleep.

Waking up at 5.30am is not fun during, ever. Not even when you have to catch a bus, to catch another bus to sit in another bus for over an hour. We made it work though; youth is a marvelous time when your body can be compelled to do ridiculous things despite its rational yet feeble protests. We reached the town of Veria and flagged a taxi to Vergina (since public transport is a trickily operated business on Sundays). Intent on visiting the museum dedicated to the ancient site of Aigai, the ancient capital of the Macedonian Kings, and the cemetery, we were excited to see the tombs of Alexander the Great’s son (Alexander IV) and his father Philip II and the abundance of wealth and gold found.

The museum is one of the most remarkable in all of Greece. Pictures were not allowed inside, but the image of the finds will remain forever imprinted in our memories. An underground building was constructed to protect the royal tombs, maintaining the stable atmospheric conditions for preservation. Also to protect the finds from further pillaging and looting as occurred earlier. From the outside, the museum – built around the tombs looks like (and basically is) an earthen mound. It amazed us with displays of demurely lit gold wreaths, elaborate armor, deadly yet intricately carved weapons and other grave goods that speak volumes about the life and death of those buried there. It also contains a Heroön: a building which was intended for the cult of the dead King and used for ritualistic ceremonies.

All the tombs are accessible to the public and can be explored with abandon. They appear to still be ‘in the ground’ because looking at them requires entering a separate chamber and descending a flight of stairs into the earth and up to the entrance of the tombs. They are in a way resonant with the pyramids in their monumental size and adornment. In the burial chamber were found marble sarcophaguses which further contained The Crown and a gold larnax with the ashes of the deceased royal. As far as museums go, it was beyond incredible and we left astounded by the presentation.

Casually on display, still viciously guarding the tomb it was destined to serve

We left elatedly to return to Thessaloniki. Bus after bus after taxi, we spent the last few hours fruitfully back in the city center. We toured the National Archaeological Museum and the Museum of the Byzantine Empire. It became evident more than ever the emphasis the Greek government places upon education and increasing avenues for intellectual growth. Education is completely funded by them, sites and museums are free for students, accessing amenities in the country is very simple and we are viewed with an aura of innocence, naivety and a yearning for knowledge. Of course we are all those things; it is lovely to be treated with extra regard and attention. Both museums were strikingly extravagant and contained replicas of things we had seen at Pella and Vergina.

It was nearly time to say goodbye once again to a beautiful city. We stopped for a lazy lunch of mouth-watering seafood and free dessert (something we have become too accustomed to) and walked along the seaport as we headed for the train station. There were street performers, children running about the main square with brightly colored and confusingly shaped balloons, young couples stealing an afternoon together and old couples enjoying the fresh air after mass – Thessaloniki could easily compete for the honor and prestige of favorite city in Greece. The train ride home to Athens was an opportunity to catch up on some much needed rest and recuperation. We also sat with three other students from Athens who worked the International Film Festival and invited us to spend time with them once we returned home.

A few masterpieces over here and a few masterpieces over there

Things to do in Greece: Eat fresh and flavorful food – check. Learn enough Modern Greek to interject it into spoken English enough to sound exotic – check. Meet locals who show you how to live life with the utmost zeal – check. Stand and wonder at the natural beauty everywhere – check. See the ancient world through modern eyes – check. Learn enough to last a lifetime – check. Fall more in love with the country with every passing moment – check. Carpe Diem – CHECK.