Pictures Pictures Pictures

Pictures from Venice. Nothing fancy. Enjoy.

http://photobucket.com/juliebryan

Hold on...

I'm in Venice.

I'll post when I find a way to process it.

Happy.

Treno 706

Alright Daryn, this one is for you...

I finally moved out of the horrible house; a leave ReAnna deemed 'the great escape.' It could suit. I packed all of my things back into my suitcase over the weekend (I definitely didn't think I would be doing that two weeks after I got here.) I awoke Monday morning and caught the first bus out. I did not say goodbye which is terribly rude and quite out of character. I am a good southern girl at heart, you know; I was raised better. However because of the circumstances that led up to the move, my recent anxiety levels, and the family's addiction to emotionally heightened, stressful fits of drama and blatant, habitual disrespect I found it in MY best interest to leave without any sort of confrontation. It took me about an hour to get to my hotel where they let me check in early. What a god-send! I slept, ran some errands, bought my train ticket, enjoyed the scenery and then the day took a bad turn. It was time to move the suitcases again. This is no easy task. I'm moving three enormously heavy bags completely alone using Rome's public transportation.

So I drug my luggage down the sidewalk, across the cobble stoned streets and to the entrance of my new family's flat. When I rang the buzzer no one answered right away. While I was admiring the beautiful little courtyard in the middle of the building, Nadia, the mother arrived. She is kind and more posh than anything I've encountered in Italy so far. I rolled the luggage in the house, slightly concerned about scratching the gorgeous hard wood floors. There is so much attention to detail in this house. It's beautiful and you can tell Nadia takes pride in it (as well she should.)

The new flat I get to live in.

I left and meandered back down the street. I love being in the city center. There is so much more life. I feels like Rome. The sun had set and the sky was astounding as it always is in the evening. I was hungry since I had not eaten that day...well minus the Nutella, but I don't mention that for the same reason I don't mention every time I breathe. I wandered across a little pizzeria/restorante with, of course, alfresco seating. It is near a small wine and cheese shop. I sit and the waitress brings out a glass of sparkling white wine. I was never a wine person before I came to Italy. Now I go to the grocery store just to linger over the choices. I have yet to try a glass here I haven't liked. I was craving pizza so I use my broken Italian to order the Bufalina. I know that bufala mozzarella is very good so I figured I'd give the pizza version a shot. I scribble down the days happenings in my little journal so I don't forget them while I wait. After no more than 10 minutes god delivers a little piece of heaven right to my table. The pizza is beyond comparison to anything in America. Pizza here is thin, crispy, and savory. The Bufalina was a crunchy bread covered with regular mozzarella and no tomato sauce (that would be a pizza rosa and this was a pizza bianca.) There were white balls of the bufala cheese placed randomly between the halves of fresh sweet cherry tomatoes and whole leaves of some kind of herd. The edges were just blackened from being in the wood-stone oven. Now the size is something to mention (isn't it always ;)...sorry, that was dirty.) This pizza covered my dinner plate. It was easily the size of a 'medium' pizza at home, just to give you an idea. And since it's Italy you eat whatever part you want. There are no slices. Grab your fork and pick the bite that looks best. I'm not usually one for getting too into food, but this meal deserved to be talked about. After the meal I went back to my hotel, took off my skinny jeans and crawled into bed.

This morning I woke to the sound of the church bells at the San Giovanni in Laterano. The sun was creeping in between the shades. I threw on some clothes and headed up to breakfast. I had hot tea and a fresh croissant with, wait for it...nutella. The breakfast room was on piano 8. The floors here start on -2 (then -1, H, 0, 1, 2...etc) so this was actually the 12th, and top, floor. The view overlooked the city. There are many places to obtain the expansive views of Rome. This was one was perfect, standard. I enjoyed my pastry and sipped my tea while watching Rome spring to life. I love how Rome manages to be a modern as well as historic as well as beautiful city without compromising any of those facets. The flats surround the cathedral which can be reached by the ever infuriating public buses. It's a seamless mix, atleast in my opinion. Traffic seems to be a bother because of the way the roads snake around the history but that doesn't really affect me too much.

I went back to my room, not really wanting to leave my little table by the window. My body ached,(and aches) from moving my weight in luggage around Rome yesterday. The shower is large white painted tile and it is spacious. There is a little oblong window to open so you can shower and look at the city. However, this involves the city being able to see me enjoying the waterfall showerhead so I keep it only partly open. I wrapped up my newly tan and newly smaller self in the the plush white towel and turned on CNN. Two side notes: 1) there is lead in the sand here, which reflects the sun. This causes you to get incredibly tan every time you go to the beach. Italians aren't dark. I swear they are just really really tan. 2) Even though Italian food is very heavy I'm still losing weight here because of all of the walking. I could see how one could get really fat here, but honestly it's all about portion control. It doesn't matter if it's standard to eat three meals worth of food in one sitting, just stick to two. Kidding, mostly.

Now, I write this as I am speeding thru the Italian countryside on my way to Venice. It doesn't get much more cliche than this. It doesn't feel cliche though. Like I said before, if feels authentic. Too good and too real to be compared to the ideals of it. The train car is classic, romantic. There are so many things out of the window that are simply perfect: Cities built on hills that look like they could have all been a part of one massive, historic castle. They all have the same old rock foundation (get philosophical with that one ;) connecting them. Abandoned villas that look more beautiful in passing than I've ever seen captured on a canvas. A man riding along the fence on a horse that is a beautiful color of heather gray. The sunflowers that have given up their bloom and now seem to bow over their heads over acknowledging the majesty of the mountain chain rolling out before them. Ok, maybe that's a little much. But I like this reality.

Yes, Daryn, it's amazing. It's like a dream all of the time. Yes, Daryn it could be you too. No, there is no good reason it's not. (Kidding, mostly.) It's the new school year and families are looking for au pairs starting as early as in the next two weeks. Bristish Airways is having a sale on Atlanta to Rome - $600 round trip. Just sayin'.

(I promise I'll take you to the pizza place in Naples that she talks about in Eat Pray Love, I mean, you know, if we ever crossed paths over here :)

I promise to make you unforgettable if you promise not to make me fat

I wrote this the other night when I was riding the bus to the flat at around 1 am. I looked down at my phone and was taken back by the fact that it read "September 1" at the top. Scribbled down these thoughts before my stop:

Wow September, where did you come from?

It feels like yesterday I was refusing to walk at graduation for my bachelors, opting instead to jump out of an airplane.

The eight months behind you have held so much.

Within this year I have been on opposite sides of the world with two people very close to my heart. Now I LIVE in Rome. (That gets me every time)

There's alot to live up to September.

There have been so many happy memories in a wonderful city that was truly my home in more ways than I thought possible.

But there is so much that I hope you won't bring with you.

The lessons learned, bad and good, I hope will guide my steps a bit more

lightly in your four weeks. The ups and downs have been valleys apart. My heart has taken the brunt of my mistakes as well as the crowns of my

accomplishments. And now it is open for you.

I promise to stay close September.

I won't become a stranger like I have to some of the other months.

(Please send them my apologies - next time we see each other it will be different.)

As for now-I'll stay right here with you. I have no doubt you'll hold more.

Here's to always looking forward.

Only freaks ride the night bus

Sorry it's been a while since I've had a chance to catch you up. Things have been insanely busy over here. Here's what I've got in the update department:

This family is awful. They were not truthful about so so much. The first week with them was horrendous. I won't go into all of it, mainly because I don't want to think about it and it's not really fair for me to. I am currently looking for another family. There are a few prospects in the works. I am so so disappointed in the situation because I thought it was going to be great. The mother represented herself and her family as something they are very much not.

I needed to get out of the house this weekend so I stayed in a wonderful little hotel. It was perfect. So posh. Very different than the American concept of a hotel. I spent the day exploring around- well for the most part. I've found that my new favorite accidental hobby is to ride the wrong bus the wrong way until I have no idea where I am. Maps here do not provide the help that they do at home. The author of Eat Pray Love referred to Rome's streets as rives that meander around, which I believe is pretty dead on. It's lovely but makes finding my way impossible. I was directionally challenged at home...in a car...with a GPS. Here I mostly just enjoy what I'm seeing at that moment and hope that I make it back somewhere alive before midnight.

Anyways, back to the weekend. I ate at a lovely Italian restaurant all by myself- al fresco on a clear night. The pasta was amazing. Music in the background. Italian chatter. Perfect. It filled my soul (and my tummy!) The hotel had one English channel. It was CNN. I flipped shit to say the least. Saturday night after a wonderful day of exploring in Rome, a perfect Italian meal, and a late night of writing on the terrace overlooking part of the city, I fell asleep with CNN playing in the background. There are no words.

I'll leave you with a little list of random observances I've had so far:

-On the bus, the men do not give up their seats to little old ladies. In fact, they race them.

-If you tell someone you do not speak Italian they do not care. They will continue to speak to you in Italian like what you just said was nonsense.

-The police men are ugly. The army guys are hot!

-People play music on their cell phones out loud, with no head phones, on the bus like everyone else wants to hear.

-The amount of McDonalds here is out of control.