Currently Listening Diamonds on the Inside By Ben Harper Blessed to be a Witness see related

blessed?

I am on the bus as we drive away from 'Fair Verona' where we went to see the balcony where it is said Juliette called down to her Romeo.  Granted, the balcony wasn't actually built until the 1940's . . . still, it's a nice thought anywyas.  Apparently the house is really where the girl who inspired 'Juliette' from the famous story of the star crossed lovers lived. I could tell we were getting near as we approached the old building as names of different couples were written all over the stone walls, notes with names and dates were stuck all over the walls with gum.  On the metal gates hung a clump of locks with much of the same.  The key, sure to have been thrown somewhere irretrievable.  It felt like a beautiful place.  Around me couples wrote their names in indellible markers, leaving their symbol of love and affection for all to see.  It made me think of tghe George Canyon song . . . "Somebody wrote love in a permanent way . . ."

Now as I make my way to Venice I am looking out the window and enjoying the Italian countryside.  I am struck at times by how much it can feel like home - the yellow fields of wheat sprinkled with bales of hay.  The summer sun shining in just the right way to catch the fields and makes them shine like gold.  I miss my alberta prairies .  . .

August 18

Yesterday morning we all hopped on a ferry set for the beautiful floating city of Venice.  The boat was full of excited chatter as we approached one of the most picturesque and romantic citues in the world.  As I stepped off the boat onto solid ground I took a moment to let the scene before me 'sink' in (ha, I couldn't resist).  The day was young so the streets were still calm, relaxing in the morning hours before all the hoardes of tourists came in to bask in all that Venice had to offer.  We made our way to St. Mark's Basilica.  The piazza was littered with pigeons- the tamest pigeons I've ever seen - completel comfortable with flocking around tourists, landing and resting on their heads and hands.  Kez warned us not to kick any pigeons as there is a hefty 517€ fine for getting caught doing so . . . tempting, but definitely not worth the risk.  We were led to a typical looking venetian building and crossed the bridge over the canal into a school that teaches the art of fine lace-making and I signed with contentment as I beheld the scene before me.  It was everything one would imagine Venice to be.  Inside the building we were given a demonstration of how lace is made.  It's quite the process to make handmade lace either through using baubles (An intricate pattern can take up to 180 baubles - alot to keep track of!) or needles and thread - a big project can have up to 7 or 8 workers 'tied up' for up to 8 months - explains why lace is so expensive!  It was interesting . . .

After that demonstration was through we proceeded on to a glass blowing shop where we watched the intriguing process of how glass is made.  I was mesmerized by the glowing amber ball at the end of the pole held by the glass master as he twisted, spun and blew the blob, moulding it into a gorgeous case.  He then started to work on a figurine.  It didn't take long to guess that he was forming a rearing horse - pulling, folding, twisting and squishing the malleable form until it hardened into its final crystallized form.  I was in awe. 

After leaving the shop Christina and I headed for St. Mark's Basilica where we joined an english guided tour.  As we walked in, streams of light shone from the windows of the golden domes, illuminating the patterned floors that have been warped over the years by the unsolid foundation of the floating city.  The ceiling was the most impressive part of the Basilica by far - they sparkled with giant golden mosaics that covered the entire ceiling, telling the stories of the Bible right from the creation to John's visions of the Bible right from the creation to John's cisions in Revelation.  Our guide explained a few of them to us in detail and also gave us some history on the church and the speculation regarding whether or not St. Mark's body is actually held there, or if it was all a big scam.  Apparently, according to legend, the church had hidden his body 'some place safe' so it wouldn't be stolen.  So safe, that they themselves couldn't even find it.  After a time of prayer and fasting by the congregation, it is said there was a graet miravle and one of the pillars broke open and St. Mark's arm fell out, almost as if to beckon the faithful servants to find his remains hidden there.  It's a nice story anyways . . .

A bunch of us went to a small restaurant for lunch after our tour.  We were psyched up for some authentic Italian food - which we found at an Italian restaurant run by Asians.  We had to laugh at how funny our global community is becoming . . .  Wong's scottish meat pies, hey??

After a delicious margherita pizza, and with gelatto in hand, we trekked towards the Doges palace.  This was an interesting place.  I ddin't enjoy it as much as I should have, partly because it was so hot and I was feeling dehydrated and partly because the cashier wouldn't give me a student discount because I was Canadian - even though Christina got her discount from the other cashier.  Sigh.  Oh well.  It was just frustrating . . .

The palace had tons of huge rooms full of chandaliers and paintings.  The most interesting part was called the bridge of sighs.  It was given its name beacuse it was the bridge convicted prisoners would walk across to get to their prison cells after being declared guilty of their charges.  As they crossed the bridge, the story goes, they would look out the window of the bridge, get their last look of Venice and their freedom and sigh before descending into their dark, lifeless cells.  After we finished at the palace, christina and I had some time to wander the piazza before we met up with the rest of the group for our gondola ride.  Just as we were assembling at the spot, the hot sun was covered by an enormous cloud that proceeded to split open upon us.  We all crowded under any covering where we could find shelter as we waited for our ride to begin. within a few moments the rain stopped and our gondolas arrived as though it had been timed perfectly for our little trip!

Christina and I shared a boat with four other girls from our tour.  Our gondoleer was just what I was expecting when I saw him - a big burly Italian man in his typical stripey gondoleer shirt.  He gave us a hand as we lowered ourselves into the long rocking boat.  Once we were settled, he pushed off, gliding us across the waters of Venice as we chatted away under the grey sky.  Claire asked our gondoleer if he would sing for us and he refused.  This was sad, but claire, determined not to let that ruin our trip, decided she would provide us with her own version of Italian song . . . but since she didn't know any songs, she made one up, using the only Italian words she knew: "Spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-ghetti, linguuuiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-ni, laaaaaaaaaaaaaasaaaaaaaaaaaaa-gna . . ." .etc. at the top of her lungs.  I'm not sure this amused our gondoleer, but it sure amused us!  As we floated through the venetian canals I quietly took in the scenery passing us by, amazed at how it could look so much like the pictures I've seen and yet be so much more than a camera could capture. 

I watched as venetian life passed by - a young man loading up goods to take into a local hotel - while a gondoleer took a nap in his boat under a bridge - clearly on a break. 

Firenze

August 13

This morning when we got up, the Italian sky was filled with clouds.  This felt odd as I was gearing up for the typical scorching hot Italian sun . . .

The bus dropped us off in the streets of Florence and we made our way to the centre on foot.  We stopped for a while in what Kez called an 'open air museum'.  As we looked around us we saw many marble statues - the statue of Neptune and a statue of Greek demi-god guy (Perseus) killing Medusa.  We also saw the statue 'the rape of the Sabine woman', and a statue of Hercules slaying a satyr.  But the pièce de résistance wasm of course, Michaelangelo's David.  Technically it was a replica, but it stood right where the original used to be displayed. 

After stopping for a few photos, our group continued on its way to a leather shop for our demonstration of how Italian leather is worked.  As we walked through the streets, the skies opened up and rained down on us.  I was completely unprepared for such an event so I was quite thankful for the shelter of the store.

We were given a short demo where we learned how leather jewelry boxes are made.  We were also shown how to test for fake leather, although I'm not sure I can, even after all that.  (Just being honest here)

As we went to leave, the rain was still coming down. Some opportunist vendors saw our misfortune and decided to take advantage of it.  I bought a pink Umbrella and Christina got a yellow one.  I was jealous as I saw her up ahead, her bright yellow umbrella standing out amidst the dreary sea of black ones that surrounded her.

  Later on we had a walking tour of Florence.  I learned alot about the namesakes of the ninja turtles and some of their artwork.  We saw the famous bridge that was not bombed during WWII because Hitler liked it too much . . . what a romantic! - Although his decision couldn't possibly have been based on the fact that the buildings that surrounded it would have produced too much rubble for the tanks to get back over it?  Nah.  I just like to think he had a big heart . . .

  On this same bridge, I saw hundreds and hundreds of locks, attached to anything that would hold them.  It seems it's tradition for lovers to come to this spot and attach a lock with their names and the date written on it, lock it to the bridge and throw the key into the river - a symbol of their undying love.  It's quite beautiful when you think of it . . .

Until you hear that the part about the guy whose job it is to cut the locks and throw them away . . . ha good thing it's just symbolic right? 

The concept really does have a good feeling about it, although seeing all those locks with all those names and affectionate words made me wonder about the other side of this symbol.  I wondered how many well meaning lovers had undergone this ritual only to feel as though their love was more of a prison than anything else?  It just made me think . . .

The rest of our day was pretty low key.  We wandered aimlessly, stopping at little shops along the way. 

Dinner in Florence was such a great time!  Amy, Lisa, Katie, Christina and I broke off from the rest of the group for a little 'family dinner' at a lovely open air restaurant.  We spent our time chatting away, discussing all the social intricacies of our little contiki community - so much more goes on that I ever really need to know . . .

After eating, we met up with the group again infront of their restaurant.  Everyone was quite psyched for their evening of fun and frolicking at the Space Electronic Disco.  Christina, Leslie, Kung and I went back to the campe early instead so we could get to bed at a reasonable hour in preparation for our early departure to Rome and the Vatican City.

We did get to bed early, but not before sharing in a drink at the bar where we met the most obnoxious girl I've ever met in my life.  I don't remember her name.  I'm at peace with that actually. She was from another Contiki group.  We shared in some awkward conversation for a while, where she managed to oppose each of us on anything we happened to say, regardless of whether she actually had any knowledge on the subject (Such as the Canadian Education System . . . she's from Australia, but of course she knows more about how Canada runs our schools than both Christina and I who are both Ed students . . .)

We tried our best to be agreable with her, but finally she turned to the guy sitting next to her, lifted her hand to cover her mouth in order to be discrete but spreading her fingers so we could see anyways, and she said in a very loud stage whisper 'YOU NEED TO CHANGE SEATS WITH ME.  THESE PEOPLE ARE SO BORING I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF IF YOU DON'T'

That was pretty much all we needed.  One by one we all got up, stretching as though we were just exhausted and said 'well it was nice meeting you, but I think I'm going to go to bed'

when we got far away enough to be out of earshot we had to burst into laughter mostly at the absurdity of the situation.  Does this girl really exist??  I couldn't believe it either, but yes, yes she does . . .

That's amore . . .

August 12

We just entered Italy, greeted with the 'pizza pie, that's amore' song.  In just a few hours we'll be at the leaning tower . . . I have a feeling I'm going to like Italy, although I can't lie, I'm sad to leave France behind for a while . . .

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Ok so I just got on the bus after my leaning tower experience. Now I'm no engineer, but that tower is definitely leaning.  You heard it here first . . .

We had a great time with our little photo shoot  - the tower makes quite the fun and useful prop!

 Next stop - Florence!

Lifestyles of the rich and famous . . . Nice is quite nice.

August 11

Mmm.  A day in Nice was just what the doctor ordered!  Yesterday I learned just why they call it the azure coast.  Never before have I seen such clear blue water . . .

This morning we went on a tour of the Fragonard perfumery.  It was quite interesting to learn about some of the process that perfume goes through.  We learned of a man they call 'the nose'.  His job is to develop new scents.  He can only 'work' for 2-3 hours a day though or else his olfactory senses go into overdrive.  Apparently there are about 120 'noses' in the world and about 100 of these live in France.  Apparently it's a man's job . . .

After our tour we were taken into a show room where we could sample different scents and buy products.  I didn't get any . . . it was tempting though.

After our tour, Christina and I set out to wander the streets of Nice.  It's such a vibrant city . . . it was so exciting walking through the aisles of the fruit and flower market - so many smells wafting from all directions.  The bright colours exploding with every blink of the eye.  On all sides people called out in french - vendors advertising for their stands and shoppers calling back in reply: 'Combien?'  'how much??'

Eventually we came across the steps leading towards an old castle.  We made our way to the top, stopping to take pictures as we went.  We found a beautiful man made waterfall right infront of a lookout over the coastline.  Not too far off we sat ourselves down on a bench in the park to eat our lunch.  As we ate we saw a wedding party taking pictures.  The bride was stunning in her chic french dress.  We watched people pass as we continued to eat before going on our way.  We wandered back through the small bright streets of the old city, stopping at a local gelato place, hoping for some relief from the hot sun.  We certainly weren't disappointed!

We found an internet cafe where we spent about an hour making contact with the rest of the world.  At this point it was just about time to make our way back to the bus.  As we approached the meeting spot we realized we still had a bit of time to kill.  Deciding it would be a shame to make it all the way to the Riviera and not get into the water, Christina and I went down to one of the 'pebbley' public beaches and stood on the shoreline as the salty waves rolled in over our feet. 

In case you were wondering, we didn't see Beyonce, Brangelina, or Tom Cruise the entire time that we were in Nice.

Tonight was an evening of extravagance.  After a day of relaxing on the coast, we all dressed up in a way that can only redefine the term 'swanky', and loaded onto the coach which whisked us away to Monaco.

Monaco is such an interesting place . . . one of the smallest countries in the world but the largest population density - however when we got there . . . there was no one.  No one walked in the streets, except for those of us who were quite obviously tourists - very few cars drove around the city and only a few lights were on in the buildings.  It would seem that Monaco was a ghost town  . . . to anyone who doesn't know that it is a renowned tax haven.  Strange how the country with the highest population density doesn't actually have anyone living in it!!

 We drove up to the palace where the Grenaldi's live.  We saw the church where Grace Kelly was married and buried, and overlooked the city at night - taking in the extravagant yachts in port.

After our short walking tour we went up to Monte Carlo. Never before have I seen such extravagance - from the clothes and jewelry to the cars and chandaliers.  Kez told us the hotel de Paris located right next to the casino was 8000 Euros a night for a suite during the Grand Prix.  Christina and I walked in trying to find a place to mail her postcard and were stopped so fast in the lobby  and quickly redirected to a post box around the corner.  Ha, I guess we didn't look like we could swing 8000 Euros a night.  I did stand in the lobby for a good 30 seconds though . . .

 While everyone in our group went into the casino to gamble away their fortunes, Christina and I wandered around the area - we saw the famous 'S Curve' of the Grand Prix, (and earlier in the evening we had taken off from the starting line in the streets, imitating the formula one cars as best as a touring coach bus could . . .)

It was quite the night - champagne on the roadside overlooking the riviera, fine dresses and perfect music to set the mood - Big Spender, Grace Kelly . . .

totally made the evening . . .