Love Me Some Lucca!!!

My dear readers, I have had a revelation.  Yes, I told you that I loved Rome.  And Florence, though smaller than Rome, is a beautiful thriving city that has many glorious offerings to the curious traveler.  But the true Italy, the heart and soul of the country, is found in the small towns of Italia.  Lucca, the small town I went to this weekend, showed me that.  Through delicious sandwiches and heavenly pastries.

Lovely Lucca, which I will officially refer to it as from here on out, sits about an hour and a half by train away from my current home Firenze.  The town, surrounded by a wall, seems intimidating at first.  Not to worry, dear readers, this town is just as welcoming and cute as ever! Everyone here smiles, NO JOKE. I saw way more people smiling here than in Florence.  Also, I saw just about as many bakeries as their are QuikTrips in Tulsa.   This is a beautiful thing.

We biked around the whole day, a real bargain actually.  It was warm enough to wear shorts (er, warm enough for me to wear shorts), and it seemed like everyone and their grandmother was outside enjoying the sunny Saturday.  I saw a little kid throw a tantrum, but it was just cute and not annoying.  Children whining in Italian does not sound nearly as irritating as children whining in English.  He was literally on the ground, whining "MAMAAAA. NOOO".  His mom encouraged him to get up because they had to go (I think?), and the small four year-old continued to army crawl all the way to his mother.  These old ladies on a bench were cheering him on.  This is the Italy that I love.  And then there was an older boy, who continued to ride his bike around us to show off.  He did handstands, cartwheels, and even walked on his hands! Skilled!!!! BRAVO BAMBINO! Except one time, he messed up. So he looked to see if we saw, and then continued to sulk on the curb for two minutes.  Can I bring back a child with me to the US? That's totally legal, right?!

Anywho, the bike lady thought I was French because of my name (Rachael, like Rachelle, and Rene, because that just sounds French).  I asked if we could all pay for our bike rentals seperately, and she looked at me as if to say "No, not on your American life".  Then, she looked at my last name, and asked if it was Reagan like the President, and I just said Yes.  She then let us pay individually. WIN WIN WIN.  ANCESTRY FOR THE WIN.

Anyway, Venice this weekend for Carnivale! WOOOOOOOOOOOOT! Should be a grand ol' time! I'm behind on pictures because our internet tells me it'll take 342 minutes to upload my sweet shots.  No way man, I do not have that time.    Pictures of my food from Lucca to come next post!

Buon appetito!
Rachael

Apologies and Condolences. And France!

First and Foremost, I owe the lovely cyber-audience a sincere apology.  I’ve let you down with this not updating since France business, and for that, I will make it up to you. So grab some milk and cookies, kids, because this post is about to turn into a rainy-day novel.

France was wonderful, beautiful, spectacular, warm and surprisingly friendly.  Everyone there was incredibly sweet to me, but that might have something to do with the fact that I spoke only French to them (BONUS! Thanks 5ish years of French!).   I want to go back the first chance I get- it was that glorious.  The weather was perfect too, but the trip there was quite a trip.

The trek to the French Riviera started out dark- literally, because we had to leave at 6 AM.  Actually, make that 6:15, since some leisurely ladies “got lost” on the way to the bus.  The walk to the bus is always interesting early in the morning, just because the time we leave the house is about the times the drunken dancers of Florence stumble their way home from the club.  Fun times.  A guy tried to trip me once, and I totally kicked him.  BAM! So obviously this time, no one messed with this girl. 

So northward we drive, and the road is winding and our bus driver seems to believe a little to much in the accelerator.  Add all that to an easily-upset stomach, and you get the girl in front of me puking her lungs out. At 7 AM.  On a small bus that is full.  She turns to ask me for a plastic bag or two.  I give her the bag, praying that she doesn’t turn around and face me for the rest of the trip.  At this point of the trip, I am extremely optimistic. 

However, once we pull into Monaco all the stomach-wrenching smells from the bus and all of the fatigue I felt from my early rising melted away.  Sun shining and soft breeze blowing, I am in paradise.  The town is literally almost too perfect- cleanest streets I’ve ever seen, no graffiti anywhere, and everyone is well-dressed and helpful.  After exploring the grounds, we stop in a café where I have, what else, but quiche lorraine! Ordered Completely in FRENCH! LOOK:

After this, to Nice we go! I got to put my feet in the Mediterranean Sea, something  I hope I get to do again! We walk around and find the coolest shops, some breakdancers, decorations for carnival this upcoming weekend, and a wonderful open-air flea market.  We found a cute bakery too, where literally almost everything was made with Nutella.  I opted for the brownie, but they had muffins and cookies and even a Nutella Latte! YUMMMM This foodie in France was a happy camper!

Our traditional French meal definitely suffered (err… exemplified?) some Italian influences.  First course a standard pasta, but the main dish and the dessert were unfalteringly French.  I almost felt like Julia Child.  And let me just say, feeling like Julia Child just makes you happy. 

Penne con Pomodoro

Jambon avec pommes frites!

Je ne sais pas. Mais il a ete delicieuse! 

Anyway, next day we went all through 3 towns: St. Paul de Vence, Cannes, and Eze (pronounced Ezzz, mmmk?).  St. Paul de Vence definitely won first place in my heart, with its mountain-top setting, plethora of art work, and just overall cute-n-quaintness.  Cannes was wonderful with the Film Festival memorabilia (check FB for Celebrity Hand Prints!), and I had my FIRST Croque Monsieur! 

And, I’m almost ashamed to say, I went to my first European McDonalds. 

NO! LET ME EXPLAIN! Don’t turn you backs on me, dear readers, let me shed some light on my unforgivable actions.  I needed to use the facilities, in a very urgent sense of the word.  Unfortunately, many places don’t have public restrooms- you gotta commit and buy some stuff.  Well, Cannes is expensive.  McDonald’s, on the other hand, is not, thanks to the one-euro menu. So I buy a diet coke (shocking), and use the bathroom code on my receipt to access the bathroom.  Life lesson learned. 

Eze was beautiful too, and very fragrant.  We went to a perfume factory, and everything smelled wonderful.  It just hurt my head after 15 minutes.  So while most of the other girls were spraying perfume and smelling soap, I was walking up a mountain to explore the town of Eze.  So beautiful.  However, this beautiful locale was the last, and after the final whiffs of perfume were inhaled, we were bus-bound and headed to Firenze. 

In short, I loved France and am finding any way to get back.  Paris during spring break is a very realistic prospect, and hopefully I can iron out the wrinkles in the plan soon.  However, Morocco is almost entirely a go.  Venice next weekend for Carnival.  Two weeks from then, Spring Break.  April will be busy with Tuscan towns and Pompeii, and maybe a trip to Greece…?  And then with May, I have two weekends, finals, and then my ticket home.  Wow. 

Anyway, Lucca this weekend with some wonderful people! And lots and lots of research for some papers! What fun! Have a glorious weekend all, and updates after Lucca!

Buon Appetito,

Rachael

True Life: Stuff They Don't Tell You About Studying Abroad

Don't get me wrong, I am entirely and incredibly grateful and indebted to my privilege of studying abroad. These past two days, however, have been sort of a reality check which shatters the Honeymoon phase of Culture Shock.

Laundry, for one thing, was a major frustration, because our washing machine does not work without 15 hours worth of spin cycles.  Our internet has also been on the fritz, and the man who came by to fix it spoke ZERO English.  He switched to French so I could comprehend a little more, but I'm still doubting that he really said "I painted this apartment myself" (that's what it sounded like, I'd bet someone else's dog's life on it).  Then there are money matters, which I'm not running out of money, it's just that things are expensive.  And, myself being a mild to medium worrier, do not want to head back to the States come May 14th with a non-existent savings account.  There is also the issue of my potential spring break plans, whose concerns deal mainly with financial means of experiencing an enjoyable free week in Europe.

However, a trip to COOP (my favorite grocery store here- it's huge, and has TONS of stuff, like whole wheat pasta and no-sugar added muesli. And this week, smoked salmon was on sale! NOM) with my no-class-on-mondays buddy Laura helped cheer my up and put my anxieties at rest.  Also, surprisingly, having the routine of school work now helps alleviate some of the stresses.  Oh, and that new gym membership I got has allowed me to "work out" frustration.  See what I did there? Clever. 10 points to Griffyndor.

Oh, and last night, I won a trip to Morocco. FREE TRIP TO MOROCCO. FOR REALZ. This would make anybody's night! And today was that pesky mandatory trip to the chocolate festival.  We tried cioccolato peperocino (chocolate with pepper) cioccolato aranche (chocolate with orange!) and chocolate with almonds (I don't remember the italian, sorry).  All those bars came from the stand I've been from only 49487987 times.  When we walked up, the girl who's worked there all week told me hello and asked how I was.  I got some stares.  I told them we were pretty much on a first name basis, because it's true.  Anyway, I also got to try a pistachio truffle, chocolate covered coffee beans (the best I've had- Dad, these were WONDERFUL), and a 100% cacao bar. And I learned a ton about chocolate and coffee.

Allora, I've gotta get to reading for my Pre-Renaissance Art and for World War II.  A Presto!

Buon Appetito!
Rachael

Like Chocolate for Chocolate

Confession: I've been to the chocolate festival every day since it's been here.
Spoiler Alert: This will be a revealing and embarassing blog entry.

The first day was strictly for educational purposes, promise.  It is MANDATORY for me to visit the chocolate festival on Tuesday for my Food of Italy class, so since I am the student that I am, I of course did additional research to prove myself a worthy scholar.  Amongst the traditional chocolate fountains and fruit/marshmallow kabobs, I found some of the most exotic chocolate I've ever seen.  Chocolate flavored with natural extracts of pear, apple, violet, cinnamon, and pepperocino (my personal favorite since I've been here- I love the peppers and chocolate concept, it's heavenly).  I saw a 100% cacao bar, and it looked intense.  It was literally staring me down.  If Chuck Norris were a chocolate bar, this would be him.  I also saw various chocolate moldings. Chocolate shoes, chocolate tools, chocolate animals, and chocolate shot glasses.  My photo thing is not working here, so I can only show you the wondrous chocolate creations via Facebook. Or as my mom occasionallly calls it, The Facebook.

So second chocolate festival visit was not so academic.  I went to the same place we went the first day, and they totally recognized me.  MLIAWKWARD moment numero uno.  Getting recognized at a chocolate festival when it's only been going on for two days is not something to be proud of.  But it didn't stop me from buying chocolate from them- three bars to be exact, which are gifts for my Arkansas friends (I did that for Cassie, because I know how you don't like to wait for presents).  Note that there are but three different chocolates, but I expect you to be good people and share!  And I might just go back there and buy more for presents, because who doesn't love getting high-quality chocolate in the mail from Italy?

So after my second trip to the chocolate festivities, we went exploring.  To the other side of the river we went, and it was beautiful. Possibly, my favorite place in Florence up to this point, and technically some consider it almost outside of Florence.  We're talking seeing the stereotypical Tuscan countryside of the movies in all directions.  Bella! Went atop the Palazzo Michelangelo, where we looked down upon the city to see it right at dusk.  Check it out:

So now for MLIAWKARD numero due: At this fine place with the spectacular view, I saw this:

Not kidding. I felt like I was back in my grand state of Oklahoma.  The whole time, I was just confused. Native Americans in Italy. It still makes my brow furrow typing that. Despite the utter sense of inappropriateness and displacement I felt, I bought a dreamcatcher from them.  It now hangs over my bed with pride.

The rest of the night was chill as can be. Leftovers from cooking chicken and pasta the night before, and also a wonderful gelato run, to a place that is now my favorite in Florence.  I only remembered to take a picture of it after I finished it...

My diet starts tomorrow. I love myself and I hate myself.

The remainder of the day results in reading, picture-uploading, cleaning, and skyping.  Also, mentally preparing for my trip to NICE this weekend! Is it bad that I'm excited, because I will understand more in France than I do here? Je suis en Italie, mais je parle et pense francais tout le temp, tout le jour, et tout la vie!

Buon appetito!
Rachael

DONE

Surviving my first week of class in Italy? Check. 

On the down side, I have a TON of reading to do. The life of a history major, so it would seem.  Anyway, I hate to break it to you, dear readers, but this weekend will be an embarassingly boring one.  I'm up to my ears in laundry (because our washer had been "broken", but it turns out we just had the wrong settings.... I need to learn essential italian phrases like how to not cancel the spin cycle), I'm almost completely out of food, and my room is a mess.  Maintenance weekend for sure- good thing I've got three days to conquer my tasks. 

Last night though, was epic. Tried out this little restaurant down the street, turns out it's delicious and the waiters there are hilarious.  And then, my friends, the magic happened.  The magic that is the secret pastry shop of Florence. 

False! Blasphemy! Fiction! You may cry, but alas, my statement and heart are pure when I tell you of the wondrous secret pastry shop of Florence.  They're only open for two hours, and it's tucked away down a street with no signs or even a window to look through.  You have to be quiet though, or they'll turn you away.  You know you're there when  you see the lines of people (most of whom are drunk and are obnoxiously loud. Sheesh y'all, cut it out. I want my baked goods!) They open the door slightly, you tell them what you want, they come back with the tastiest thing you'll ever eat. And this experience will only cost you 1 euro.  

I indulged in a nutella croissant.  And that's all I can really say about that. 

I still feel like I dreamt that, but it is true! 

Oh, for the My life is awkward section, I couldn't figure out how to get out of the building where my last class was.  And some guy had to help me.  Oh, and an awkward moment for someone else, I watched two girls take five minutes to figure out how to use the door at the bank. They had to ask the polizia to help them.  

Buon Appetito! 

Rachael

Sort of Sickly...

I hate to say it, but I think I'm getting sick.

Couldn't have picked a better time, right? My nose was running so much today that snot literally dripped (DRIPPED) out of my nose onto my World War II syllabus.  Like a faucet. Gross.

So, dear readers, this post will be short, so I can get to bed early and hopefully get on my feet tomorrow.  I'm going to the gym early (and early here means like 8, btw) to figure out exactly how I get a short-term membership *if possible*, because I'm slightly convinced that my not-feeling-well has to do with the lack of exercise that's accumulated since my time here.

My day began with a quest to find notebooks and spirals. No such luck. Yes, dear readers, it seems that Europe has yet to develop the taste for college-ruled lined paper.  After searching in every store I could find on my way to class, I headed over to the inviting Pilazze Strozzi, where I had class for the next 5 1/2 hours.  Pre-Renaissance Art seemed predictable: a bigger than Texas textbook and multiple in-class trips to the churches in the surrounding areas.  My World War II class? Disappointing.  In contrast with my thoughts of this class being a whole new spin on my familiarity with the Second World War, the class appears to be simply a European regurgitation of what I already know.  I guess what I wanted was some more information on the Italian side, but that I will have to discover on my own.

I've made an executive decision I hope you'll approve of: I've decided to include in the Molto Mangia blog a MLIA section.  Note, that "A" does not stand for average, fools! It is for Awkward, because no one wants to know how average my trip is, everyone wants to know the sort of awkward things that happen.  Besides the snotting-like-a-sink incident, I also saw a girl in my art history class write in the most awkward way I've ever witnessed.  She had her pen over her middle finger, and held it with her index and ring finger, with her thumb posed in a way that I thought only play-doh and Gumby could pose.  I stared at this for a good 14 minutes.

Food wise, I'm afraid I must disapoint.  Forgot to pack a snack for in between the five hours of class, so I took only breakfast and dinner. Scrambled eggs for some comfort, and some fruit. Cereal for breakfast. Disappointing, I know, but once I get over whatever this is, hopefully I'll be back to my cooking self.

Tomorrow promises improvement, the end of the first week of classes, and the beginning of a weekend filled with reading, laundry, cleaning, and possible exploring!

First Day of class? FIELD TRIP.

First day of school, first day of school! And it was EPIC. First off, my Italian language professor is adorable, petite, and the stereotypical italian.  Waves her hands, exaggerates, and says "No No No!" when we pronounce things incorrectly.  Now, the next class is sort of the main attraction here: The Food of Italy. What we did today? Went to the open-air market, so I can familiarize myself with the ingredients I'll be using to cook with.  Then we made three (that's right, THREE) different kinds of pasta in 30 minutes. Total.  Molto Bene! Oh, and I had to crush up some pepperocinos and put them in the olive oil with three cloves of garlic, and then I touched my nose.  FIERY NOSTRILS. I told my prof what happened, and she exclaimed "Oh no! I mean to tell you no touch the nose!" in the cutest accent ever. So my homework is some standard language stuff, and reading about the history of dessert in Italy, and a brief history over coffee.  Next week, chocolate festival, and learning how to make chocolatey things.

I feel like I'm scamming the U of A- telling them I'm taking academic classes and everything. This is academic, right?

Oh, and in other news, made my first meal in the apartment (some spaghetti with ground beef.  I missed beef so much, I just had to have some in some form).  And, I saw a guy getting arrested on the way to the store. Not on my street, just kind of by the store.  Surprisingly, everyone remained calm around the situation.  COPS had me deceived, apparently all arrests are not hysterically violent and/or entertaining. DISAPPOINTMENT.

Anyway, class tomorrow from noon to 5:30.  I've gotta get some school supplies, because the store had absolutely none.  Also, I'm checking out the gym situation in Florence, because I miss working out. That's right, I said it.  I miss working out.  So much. Turbokick, where art thou?

Buon Appetito!
Rachael