The Wine Bar (assignment 3)

At only thirty-five years of age, Manuele Giovanelli seems as if he should just be starting his life. Quite on the contrary, Manuele is actually an accomplished business owner. Born in Pisa and raised in Milan, Manuele has lived in Florence for over a decade. He is now the proud owner of The Wine Bar, and has been for over a year.Originally, Manuele worked as a bartender for several years. After attending schooling, he moved into his current postition as owner of the bar. The Wine Bar receives much of its business through word of mouth, although individuals can book wine tasting's online. Overall, Manuele enjoys meeting new people and explaining his craft. He says his job requires him "to be very patient," but that he loves discussing the joy of wine. Manuele's favorite wine is Brunello di Montalcino,but his best seller is Chianti. As the owner of the bar, Manuele must work fourteen hour workdays, which can be quite demanding. Despite the energy required to work so frequently, Manuele remains quite upbeat about his job. Whether you are simply stopping in The Wine Bar for a drink or looking for an evening of conversation, Manuele Giovanelli is the perfect host.

Big Trains, Big Crowds, and Big Macs (assignment 2)

Sitting against the wall in the middle of the chaos at the Florence train station, a person can see almost anything. People of all nationalities and attire push their way through the crowd, trying to reach their desired platform or the never-ending line to purchase tickets. To my left is a small woman begging those who pass her for money, but mainly receiving scowls or looks of disgust instead. Looking to the right I am hit with a strong odor of frying food, which to no surprise is accompanied with a glowing golden “M.” As I continue watching the crowd, I hear a young child begging for ice cream from a glowing machine. The agitated mother ignores this request and continues pulling the unhappy child towards a waiting train. Everywhere I turn, my eyes fixate on a glowing sign, a large, noisy train, or another person trying to get on with whatever business brings them to this hub of activity. The train station, with its bustling crowd and stores selling everything from a carton of fries to a cheap plastic toy, is easily one of the most diverse places I have ever been.

Florence: Week 1

Ciao! After being in Italy for just over a week, I have finally found the time to do a little writing for pleasure (granted I could be reading about art or doing laundry but who really cares?). So, where to even begin? Well lets start from the very beginning because I wouldn't want to leave out any part of what has surely been one of the most memorable weeks of my young life.
Day 1: Tuesday, June 29th-We arrive in Florence! This is quite grand after being on a plane since Monday evening (it is now approx 630 in the evening the next day). Even more grand is the fact my luggage actually arrived on time, which we were warned frequently is not the case. I am greeted with an extreme burst of heat as I exit the airport doors. They really aren't exaggerating when they say how hot it is here. Regardless, I AM IN FLORENCE ITALY. Better yet, it's for seven weeks. We are quickly taken to our living quarters, which sadly is air condition free. Nevertheless, I have a roof over my head, running water, and wireless internet. After an interesting dinner (food will be further detailed later no worries), we unpack and look around nearby. Most importantly, I have my first taste of true Italian gelato. Best/worst decision of my life considering I am now addicted to the creamy, smooth texture that is offered in an abundance of flavors.
Day 2: Wednesday, June 30th-After an early awakening (which is only one of many early mornings) we eat breakfast which is about as, uh, delish as dinner. We then have an orientation type session which is quite hazy considering we all just wanted to start experiencing Florence. Following lots of talking, we go out on a tour which is relatively interesting, even if each of us is sweating like its our job. Next is lunchtime. Sounds great right, I mean you can't go wrong with food? WRONG. We are served some sort of meaty pasta-ish blob, which is an issue when you don't eat red meat. The next course (yes, you have several here) is, you guessed it, MEAT. Needless to say, I was a little hungry after this meal, but I had faith this was just a freak incident. Later in the evening all of us got dressed up for a "fancy dinner party" on the roof of a hotel. This made me quite happy because it gave me a reason to wear this great GUESS cocktail dress that still had tags on it. Well, the dinner party wasn't quite what I expected, but it was still fun. Many good photos and laughs came of it, despite the lack of typical "dinner" foods (I've never had chex-mix and peanuts for dinner but at least it was meat free!). After the dinner party, everyone went and further experienced the Italian culture where I learned a VERY valuable lesson: Being blonde and blue eyed is quite rare here. And also quite scary. Italian men dig blondes. BIG TIME. I won't go into detail, but if you are light haired, watch your back here.
Day 3-Thursday, July 1st-Well, this day consisted of lots and lots of sleeping (must have been the jet lag or something) along with some orientation type stuff once again. After resting up until around dinner time, I preceded to pack for the upcoming weekend trip to Venice. Katie and I then went and got some pizza, which is the one meal here I was able to eat and truly enjoy. A few of us girls then explored, found a charming cafe, and of course, got gelato.
Day 4-Friday, July 2nd-We all wake up bright and early, being that the bus leaves at 8am sharp for Venice. Upon arriving in Venice, we realize Florence was not nearly as hot as originally believed. At over 100 degrees with 95% humidity, Venice felt as if the bus had made a wrong turn and dropped us off in, well, hell. Aside from this, Venice is GORGEOUS. Absolutely breathtaking really. The beauty was a bit hard to appreciate on this particular day though, considering we took a numerous hour tour in the extreme heat. By the end of the afternoon, all 40-some of us were tired, overheated, and a tad grumpy. The solution? SIESTA (aka. naptime). I must say the fact Italians close basically everything from 1 to 3 for siesta is a brialliant idea. Whoever called that laziness has apparently never taken a tour in 105 degrees after a four hour bus ride.
Day 5-Saturday, July 3rd-By this time at breakfast, I have realized Italy is not good for picky eaters who aren't fond of meats, cheeses, or loads of carbs. Thus, I have resulted to living off gelato, loads of water, and coffee (which is totally different in every aspect from the U.S.). Maybe I'll end up going home fit and tan after all? We can only hope. Anyways, today is a grand day. Why you ask? THE BEACH (which everyone should know is my favorite place). I will not elaborate much on the beach because my first assignment for journalism goes into plenty of detail. After the beach, a group of us go for dinner and some world cup soccer, followed by some further exploring of Italy after the sun has gone down.
Day 6-Sunday, July 4th-Well, as most people probably guessed, there are not many fireworks displays or cook outs here to celebrate America's independence. Instead we go on a 6 hour boat tour that morning (which was both good and bad, but hey that's life) and begin the long journey home to Florence. After a nice cold shower, I, along with a fellow Kelsey, go to a really cute restaurant called The Wine Cellar if I'm correct (specializing in pasta and pizza not wine of course. Then a group of us celebrates independence day like it's going out of style.
Day 7-Monday, July 5th-MORE orientation type speeches, and more siesta-ing to prepare for class starting the next day. Then dinner, my favorite. Followed by a group of us getting gelato (Thank goodness for this) and doing more exploring. Oh yes, and the first batch of homework.
Day 8-Tuesday, July 6th-Lets start off by stating that whoever said summer classes are less work blah blah blah, LIED. Tuesday's consist of approx. 12 hours of class only breaking for lunch and dinner. Then homework. I'm not going to elaborate on this day because I'm trying to block it from my mind. Okay, maybe I'm being a tad dramatic, there were some interesting things learned. It may not have been a totally awful day, since it was spent in Italy.
Day 9-Wednesday, July 7th-Much like yesterday, today was full of class. Although I went to a cute cafe beforehand to get some expresso shots, which is always good. Also, I was relatively productive, getting all of my hw done, going for a run (which in the heat is bothersome at times), and updating my blog of course. Well, if you made it this far in the post I owe you a present from Italy because I'm quite impressed. I suppose I should go to bed and prepare my mind and body for class tomorrow. Oh yes, and the beginning of MY TRIP TO MUNICH (I'm a tad bit excited in case you couldn't tell). I will write again after returning from Germany! Ciao (yep, it can mean hello and goodbye)!

Life's a Beach (assignment 1)

It’s a hot day in Venice and what better place to be then the beach? This seems to be the thoughts of thousands of beachgoers, packed onto the hot sand and splashing in the salty water. At around a hundred degrees, with the scorching sunshine blaring down, an itty bitty bikini and miles of water seem like ideal choices.

As I lay down my beach towel and prepare to lather on some sunscreen, I take in the surrounding scene. The sky is a clear blue, broken only by the bright summer sun that is already beginning to turn my skin a little pink. The sand is blazing beneath my bare feet, and the stifling heat is already making me drip with perspiration. I take in the giant crowd that has flocked here, each one with their own story. Some of them are clearly tourists, much like me, while others seem to belong. Some run through the water, others perch on their fluffy towels. Some wear a smile; whereas, others frown as if they have forgotten they are at a beautiful beach. Despite the differences amongst us all, there is a one thing most have in common. We are all engaged in lively conversations.

After scanning the beach for a short while, I realize one thing quite different from beaches back home-the attire (or might I say lack thereof). It doesn’t take much time for me to realize it is more acceptable to wear whatever you want. Unlike beaches back home, there are little to no individuals wearing garments to conceal their body rather than flaunt it. Here it is quite the opposite. Men strut around in tiny speedos, while women shimmy into the water in what would barely pass as a bikini. Looking even closer, I realize there are a few females who have nothing but a swimsuit bottom on. To me, it seems strange to wear so little in a very public place, but to most it does not seem out of the ordinary. I quickly learn that modesty is not a common trend here on the beach. Luckily, this seems to make most beachgoers more comfortable in their own skin, allowing us all to focus on enjoying the experience.

As I walk into the snack bar area, I begin to listen to the surrounding dialogue, many of which I cannot even begin to decipher. As I desperately search around for a cold water to quench my thirst, one conversation in particular sparks my interest, as it is in English and spoken by two good looking men. After casually listening for a few minutes, I realize the two are American soldiers stationed in Germany who have come to Venice for a long weekend. One talks of how he “can’t figure out where to go out late at night,” and the other agrees. Upon thinking about it, I am surprised the pair found this difficult, as Italy is known for having quite the nightlife.

After what seems like an eternity but was probably mere minutes, I find water and return to the hot sand. Despite the many differences among Italian and American beaches and there inhabitants, I realize there is one thing that unites us all. Each individual, no matter where they are from or what language they speak, is here to experience this little piece of heaven we call the lido.