"Tempesteuros" E-Log #6: "A young girl transfigured by Italy..."

Piazza della Signoria, Florence

Internet Point, module #11
Venice, Italy 

Buongiorno again!

DISCLAIMER REGARDING FOLLOWING LOG: I feel it is necessary to apologize to those of you who have not watched the movie "A Room With a View" to the point of knowing it intimately like my family and I (or at all). Just bear with me and note that phrases in both quotes and italics are meant to be in an English accent.

As I touched on in the last Log, we made it to Italy a bit later than initially intended (which probably has a lot to do with the fact that this trip has been based entirely on intentions rather than actual plans, in fact the only entity known to possess an actual itinerary for us is the universe itself). Thus, we are here, along with- as Marlon put it- Everybody Else and their mother, cousin, sister, and aunt (hi, Mom, Brynna, Angelique, and Aunt Sally! Wish you were here!). Obviously, the less positive side of this is that when I am attempting to photograph famous monuments from the best possible angle, when we are ambling wide-eyed through the historical streets with our gelato and, indeed, when we are kissing in some of the most picturesque locales in the world, we are doing it in the same elbow space as Everybody Else and their mother, cousin, sister, and aunt. The more positive side of this is that we are discovering just how expeditiously and thoroughly we can experience and see all of the quintessential elements of a city (and indeed, some of the well-kept secrets) in the same amount of time it takes the average tourist to put their bags down and change some money.

Starting with Rome:

Possessing an entirely new lease on life with the aid of our freshly-laundered garments, we set off to see what Rome was all about (obviously a crucial step to living out the old adage, when in Rome...).

First was Vatican City and the Sistine Chapel, which we'd anticipated popping in and out of though it turned out to get to the chapel you were required to tour the entire Vatican Museum (and pay for it, monetarily and otherwise), and not even in a fashion of our own choosing but as specifically dictated to us by ropes and arrows (I suppose it was only fitting, as their religion doesn't allow one to wander from the path either). All in all, I left there with additional admiration for the involved artists, the severest case of claustrophobia I've ever experienced, and basically just feeling creeped out beyond description. Oh, and confused: if anyone has an explanation for there being a brass replica of The Death Star (from the Star Wars movies) in the Vatican courtyard, please let me know. Seriously.

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Vatican City, Rome

From there we proceeded to the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum, and Constantine's Arch, and treaded on half of Rome in the process. We also completely accidentally stumbled across some ruins and the colossal building Italians refer to as "The Typewriter"- I can't remember its actual name- though I'm sure I'll surprise none of you when I admit that the highlight of the day for me was bonding with the carriage horses outside the Colosseum. In fact, my demeanor was so noticeably improved by the encounter that Marlon has vowed to find me a horse to pet at every opportunity!

From Rome it was on to Pisa, the true City of Love as far as I'm concerned. From the moment we arrived at the train station, everywhere there were couples engaged in passionate affection, and overall the place had the purest frequency of anywhere we've yet been. We were stopping there only for one night and only because its Leaning Tower is quintessential Italy, though both Pisa and its famous monument ended up utterly enchanting us, despite- or perhaps because of- us viewing it all after dark. (The Star Essence Angels will be tickled to hear that I dropped some Earth Balancing Essence at the base of the askew monument- the security guards seemed unable to decide whether or not this was a threat, so they let it be.)

Leaving Pisa wasn't easy, though we had Florence to look forward to. As soon as we were shown to our room, I went to the window and (after fumbling briefly with the modern window latch) said with a delicate English pout, "I thought we were going to see the Arno." (Which was fun despite being ridiculous, as we'd lost the volition to carry our bags any further a full fifteen minutes away from the river. Of course, it became even more ridiculous when there was a mix-up regarding how many nights we were staying and we were required to move to a different hotel the very next day, giving me a second opportunity to say it- which I took. This also allowed us to humor ourselves extensively by doing our own take on "Don't you agree that on one's first visit to Florence one must have a room with a view?" by saying, "Don't you agree that on one's first visit to Florence one must have a... room?")

Florence

​Florence was every bit as profound and raw and beautiful as A Room With a Viewportrayed it, though I envied Miss Honeychurch's near solitude while exploring the city's sights, as Everybody Else (etc.) were out en force! Nonetheless, we bought postcards, strolled Piazza della Signoria and indeed, got lost in Santa Croce with no Baedeker (guidebook), where we also experienced "A true Florentine smell: Inhale my dear- deeper!". Overall, I would have to say that Florence solidified my transfiguration with Italy ("And why should she not be transfigured? It happened to the Gods"), as well as, obviously, confirmed my sad obsession with movie lines. (Marlon took it all in quite good humor, considering that he's only seen the film in question once.)

Venice

Then there is Venice. We both experienced thrills of excitement as we initially laid eyes on one of the most romantically renowned cities in the world, as it is every bit as beautific and surreal as any picture or film ever portrayed it, in fact more so. However, right away I felt an underlying unease that the colorful buildings and celebratory atmosphere couldn't mask, and had a sneaking suspicion that the reason for it rhymed with daunted.

After a much-needed siesta in our room at Casa Peron (the reception of which is dominated by a large green parrot who prefers to answer the day's "Polly want a cracker?" queries at 5am), we headed out for dinner under skies rolling with dark clouds and distant thunder. By the time we finished what we mutually agreed were our best pizzas yet, it was drizzling and the canals reflected purple lightening branches in the skies above. We grabbed our sweatshirts and my camera and dove into the dark, labyrinthine streets, holding to each other to avoid falling on the rain-slicked stones. We quickly discovered that the broader, more easily traversable corridors tended to lead nowhere, and the narrow, uneven little alleys where two people could barely walk shoulder to shoulder tended to be main thoroughfares... sometimes. Also, the most direct route, or indeed, any route, was never the one indicated by the signs... for the most part. Sort of. Basically we were almost kinda lost all of the time but having a blast anyway (as were a trio of girls who spontaneously broke into song and dance through the puddles). We finally made it to bed at 2am, and I dreamed of ghosts. No surprise then, that I awoke a few hours later to an etheric vase being repeatedly hurled at the wall, only to start the pattern over before ever shattering. Also, men in cloaks were marching through the room five abreast, and a small-statured shadow on the stairs could have been child or goblin. I snuggled into Marlon's embrace and managed to fall asleep again, with thoughts that Santa Fe, NM. was no longer the most haunted city I'd ever been to...

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We are here in otherworldly Venice for another few days and then where we go, only the universe knows! The only thing that is apparent at this point is needing to get to France within the next week if we are to make Amsterdam by our deadline.