Or
It’s The Mafia…Everything Is The Mafia
Or
Spanish is Italian’s Ugly (red-headed) Stepsister.
So, clearly we’ve got a lot to talk about. The answer to our title question is: 3 yogis, 1 dog, severalhours and lots of tools. We’ve been talking about hanging the hammocks since I arrived in Italy (That was 2 months ago…can you believe it?!?!) And yesterday at breakfast SSS announced that we would all meet in the “meadow” to discuss the very important topic of where exactly the hammocks should hang. So
the three of us and Agnes headed down, armed with handheld clippers, rope and tubing. Oh, yea, and hammocks. After careful analysis of which trees could
support a hammock, which areas would be shady or sunny and how close we wanted the hammocks to be to each other (do you really need to be close enough to someone to talk to them? I think if you’re in the hammock you’re not gonna be doing much talking…mostly napping). Finally, we had agreed on where to hang the
hammocks. Then came the amusing three-musketeers-esque extravaganza of actually
hanging the hammocks. I can’t go into it all because we would be here for hours…but it involved several trips up to the house for more tools, many different
types of rope, flames, cutting devises and some pretty funny breaks where we would chase Agnes around the meadow.
But the long and the short of it is, the hammocks are hung…and they are wonderful. I hope the Sada Sats weren’t planning on me doing any other work for the rest of the summer…because, um, there are hammocks that need to be laid in, napped in, read in… that is going to really take a lot of time and focus on my part. It’s a tough job…but someone has got to do it.
The Summit of the Hammocks (as we affectionately call the “incident”) came after a very pleasant weekend. We had a couple from Rome come up to stay and they were quite amusing. The husband (Eugenio…a good Italian name) is somewhat of a card. I don’t think anarchist is the right word…but he refuses to vote and whenever any topic of some problem in Italy would come up (such as a garbage man strike that has been going
on for at least a month in Naples…eewwww!) his answer was “It’s the mafia…everything is the mafia.” His lovely wife Rita would try to explain the Italian mentality and the history of the situation etc. etc. And without fail Eugenio would cut in “no, no, no it’s all the Frigging Mafia!” It was quite humorous.
I noticed this weekend that when people are speaking “proper” Italian it is actually quite easy for me to understand them. (This is not often spoken because there are SO many dialects in Italy and so much slang….) I think this is in part to my background in Spanish. The big difference that I’ve come to notice is that where every word in Italian (and indeed even the way they put words together) is beautiful, Spanish is shorter, more utilitarian and well, just plain less
beautiful. (My proposed titles may be a bit harsh…Spanish really is a beautiful language, but it really just doesn’t stack up to Italian in the beauty department). In Italian we say “Come’ “ which is a complete, rich and soft sound. In Spanish it’s “Como” which is open and rough sounding. I can’t really explain it better than that I guess…
However, one thing that makes Italian especially hard for me to understand still is that Italians just use a lot of words. Where we might say something in 3-4
words in English and Italian could easily take 15 words to communicate the same message. (Let’s just say they missed the day in school about economy in word usage). Perfect example: I was reading something about how to send a text message for a certain contest. The English instructions said: “Blah blah (space) blah.”
The Italian instructions said: “Blah blah blah (separated by a space) blah blah.”
Get it? Funny stuff.
So, moving on, I am gearing up for my next trip out of the Borgo. It’s been a crazy rig-a-ma-role of a planning fiasco…but I am pretty sure it’s all sorted out now. I am going for 5 days to visit Pisa (as in Leaning Tower Of), Lucca and Pistoia. A couple of small Tuscan towns outside of Florence. They are all supposed to be really beautiful and perhaps not quite as touristy as some of the other places I looked. Hopefully it works out that way.
Can you believe I’ve already been here 2 months?!?! Insane. It feels like it has gone very quickly…and at the same time feels like I’ve been away from home forever. I am starting to think a bit about what shape I want my life to take on after this trip is over. And let me tell you…it varies amazingly. I have learned on this trip that I really am happiest when I am teaching yoga and doing massage as my work
(as opposed to housework, gardening, or some other more traditional type of work). So it is important to me that whatever shape my future takes those will be my sources of income. I am loving my time here…but I am spending a lot less time than I expected doing massage and teaching, which is good because it is really showing me how important those things are.
There have been a few glitches in my teaching scheduleback home. Closed Eyes Yoga, the dear and beautiful studio where I was teaching the bulk of my yoga
classes has to close this summer. I am really sorry to see it go…but I know it was the right decision for those involved. Further, I have just found out that
the YWCA has scheduled someone else to teach my Senior Yoga classes in the fall…so there are 2 more classes out of the loop. I know I can find places to teach in
the Twin Cities if that is the direction I choose. But in the next moment I am thinking maybe I will move to Orlando and get a job as a massage therapist on
Disney Cruise lines and live with one of my dearest friends, Kelly, who works for Disney. Or maybe I’ll go back to my original plan of moving to San Francisco. Or maybe some opportunity will come up for me to travel to and do seva in India…or travel to Thailand, Ireland, Finland, Guatemala, Chile or Australia. (My top 7 at the moment….)
And then I remind myself…it is all in Gods hands and in Gods time. And it will all unfold exactly the way it is supposed to. And everything will be prefect in ways that I may not even be able to imagine yet. Wahe Guru! (Wahe Guru is a mantra we use in yoga that means “Wow! The experience of infinite power that brings me from the darkness into the light” or more basically “Wow! God!”)
If you can believe it I have also started to plan (a bit) with my two girlfriends, Megan and Allison, who are coming out for the last 6 weeks of my trip. On the list for places to go: Rome, Zurich, Lake Lucerne, Somewhere else in Switzerland, Bruges, Somewhere else in Belgium, Amsterdam, Hanover, Barcelona, Madrid, Malaga, Seville, Granada, Morocco (??), Florence, Venice, Prague, Munich…. whew! 6 weeks seems like a
lot of time…but when you look at everything you want to see in Europe it is a flash in the pan. We’ll see how it all turns out. I think we’ll just have to remind ourselves that this is supposed to be a vacation, not a race it’s gonna be so great!
Well, I think that is it for now. Hope everyone back home is having a great summer. I certainly miss you guy’s lots!
Love and Blessings,
KNL
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
“Beautiful Like the Darkness Between The Fireflies”
-Mason Jennings
This was a big weekend up at the Yoga Borgo. The Sada Sats ran a course called “Your Life in Your Chakras.” 3 weeks ago we had 10 people signed up. A week ago it was down to 6. A few days before the course it was down to 4. Friday morning when guests were supposed to be arriving we got a call from a couple flying in from Brussels. ALL flights in and out of Brussels had been grounded for the day. So…it
ended up being just 2 guests. Even though it wasn’t quite what we planned it was still a fantastic weekend.
Starting Friday evening and ending Sunday afternoon we did sets and meditation for all 8 chakras. (For you non-yoga folks: Chakras, in a nutshell, are the energetic centers in our bodies. Yogically we say that by balancing and opening up the flow of energy between ALL of your charkas you can bring yourself into a more balanced state physically, mentally and spiritually.) So needless to say…it was A LOT of
yoga. And, specifically a lot of frogs. Ouch!
You would think that working at a yoga retreat I would be having an amazingly comprehensive practice of yoga every day. The truth is that it is just as easy to
put off meditations or avoid doing a set here as it is in the “regular” world. So this weekend was a really good reminder to me that I came here to deepen my
practice. (I came for a plethora of other reasons as well…but that was certainly high on the list.) So, if I am here to re-connect with my practice and strengthen myself as a yogi and a teacher of yoga…I am the one who must make (and keep) the commitment to myself to show up for my practice. Yoga is all about daily practice. Sadhana is our touchstone; the opportunity to check in with ourselves and make sure
we are always walking on our own highest path and to continue to work through our individual karma/baggage. So I am rededicating myself (as I have done countless times before and will, no doubt, do countless times again) to show up both mentally and physically to my own personal sadhana. (Sadhana = daily practice)
This morning, after my Sadhana, of course, the SS’s and I went into town to run errands. It is funny how big a deal it is to go into town. But when you’re up
on the mountain and so far away from other people it is exciting to be among your fellow man again.
After errands, SSK decided that it was a good day for a picnic. So we packed a lunch and headed down to the river. I’ve heard the SS’s talk about this beautiful,
but long, hike you can take down to a waterfall in the river, and that was the place we decided to go for our picnic. You drive about half way down our driveway and then pull off on the path that lead to the river. SSS decided that the path was large enough and safe enough for us to drive part way down. And when we got part way down he decided we might as well drive all the way down. So our long, beautiful hike ended up being about a 30-yard walk down to the river from the car. (Just as well, it was 3pm by then and we hadn’t eaten lunch.) The waterfall, I’m sure, early in the spring, is fantastic. As it was, it was ok…but not much more than the amount of water you’d get from a fire hydrant when they open them up into the street.
We finally agreed on a shady spot and laid out our blanket. Which Agnes (the dog) promptly walked all over with her muddy paws. So much for staying clean/dry. Had a fantastic lunch and then settled in for a cozy session of reading and dozing. I really can’t imagine much of a better way to spend an afternoon. The word “bliss” comes to mind.
And if that wasn’t blissful enough after a while of lounging SSK asks me “Do you feel like we should go home and bake chocolate chunk walnut cookies?” And obviously I answered a big, fat “Amen! Wahe Guru!” And so we did just that. Ssk doesn’t believe that anything below 75% coco is actually chocolate, so our cookies had 80% Swiss chocolate bar chunks and walnuts in them. And we’re… I think Heavenly is the only possible word to use here. Mmmmmmmm……
Sorry, did I start drooling?
Moving on: Tonight the fireflies came out. It is so dark up here and there are so many of them that it is really magical. These fireflies seem different than the ones in the states…more of a white light (instead of yellow) and they seem to flicker on more quickly. But seriously just the most beautiful ending to a rather fantastic day…I am amazingly blessed.
I am planning my next little excursion…I was REALLY hoping to go to Finland. But it just didn’t work out. (A good excuse for another trip). Now I am thinking I may head to Sardinia, which also sounds quite cool. So we shall see.
Hope everyone is doing well.
Love and Blessings,
KNL
This was a big weekend up at the Yoga Borgo. The Sada Sats ran a course called “Your Life in Your Chakras.” 3 weeks ago we had 10 people signed up. A week ago it was down to 6. A few days before the course it was down to 4. Friday morning when guests were supposed to be arriving we got a call from a couple flying in from Brussels. ALL flights in and out of Brussels had been grounded for the day. So…it
ended up being just 2 guests. Even though it wasn’t quite what we planned it was still a fantastic weekend.
Starting Friday evening and ending Sunday afternoon we did sets and meditation for all 8 chakras. (For you non-yoga folks: Chakras, in a nutshell, are the energetic centers in our bodies. Yogically we say that by balancing and opening up the flow of energy between ALL of your charkas you can bring yourself into a more balanced state physically, mentally and spiritually.) So needless to say…it was A LOT of
yoga. And, specifically a lot of frogs. Ouch!
You would think that working at a yoga retreat I would be having an amazingly comprehensive practice of yoga every day. The truth is that it is just as easy to
put off meditations or avoid doing a set here as it is in the “regular” world. So this weekend was a really good reminder to me that I came here to deepen my
practice. (I came for a plethora of other reasons as well…but that was certainly high on the list.) So, if I am here to re-connect with my practice and strengthen myself as a yogi and a teacher of yoga…I am the one who must make (and keep) the commitment to myself to show up for my practice. Yoga is all about daily practice. Sadhana is our touchstone; the opportunity to check in with ourselves and make sure
we are always walking on our own highest path and to continue to work through our individual karma/baggage. So I am rededicating myself (as I have done countless times before and will, no doubt, do countless times again) to show up both mentally and physically to my own personal sadhana. (Sadhana = daily practice)
This morning, after my Sadhana, of course, the SS’s and I went into town to run errands. It is funny how big a deal it is to go into town. But when you’re up
on the mountain and so far away from other people it is exciting to be among your fellow man again.
After errands, SSK decided that it was a good day for a picnic. So we packed a lunch and headed down to the river. I’ve heard the SS’s talk about this beautiful,
but long, hike you can take down to a waterfall in the river, and that was the place we decided to go for our picnic. You drive about half way down our driveway and then pull off on the path that lead to the river. SSS decided that the path was large enough and safe enough for us to drive part way down. And when we got part way down he decided we might as well drive all the way down. So our long, beautiful hike ended up being about a 30-yard walk down to the river from the car. (Just as well, it was 3pm by then and we hadn’t eaten lunch.) The waterfall, I’m sure, early in the spring, is fantastic. As it was, it was ok…but not much more than the amount of water you’d get from a fire hydrant when they open them up into the street.
We finally agreed on a shady spot and laid out our blanket. Which Agnes (the dog) promptly walked all over with her muddy paws. So much for staying clean/dry. Had a fantastic lunch and then settled in for a cozy session of reading and dozing. I really can’t imagine much of a better way to spend an afternoon. The word “bliss” comes to mind.
And if that wasn’t blissful enough after a while of lounging SSK asks me “Do you feel like we should go home and bake chocolate chunk walnut cookies?” And obviously I answered a big, fat “Amen! Wahe Guru!” And so we did just that. Ssk doesn’t believe that anything below 75% coco is actually chocolate, so our cookies had 80% Swiss chocolate bar chunks and walnuts in them. And we’re… I think Heavenly is the only possible word to use here. Mmmmmmmm……
Sorry, did I start drooling?
Moving on: Tonight the fireflies came out. It is so dark up here and there are so many of them that it is really magical. These fireflies seem different than the ones in the states…more of a white light (instead of yellow) and they seem to flicker on more quickly. But seriously just the most beautiful ending to a rather fantastic day…I am amazingly blessed.
I am planning my next little excursion…I was REALLY hoping to go to Finland. But it just didn’t work out. (A good excuse for another trip). Now I am thinking I may head to Sardinia, which also sounds quite cool. So we shall see.
Hope everyone is doing well.
Love and Blessings,
KNL
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Beach Bums
So I had promised myself after the icky breakfast the first day at the hostel I would go out for breakfast…but I thought I’d give their other option a try. (Note to anyone traveling to the one hostel in Positano…don’t give breakfast a second try,
its not worth it.) I then proceeded down to the beach where I paid 10 euro (ouch!) for a beach chair umbrella and use of bathroom facilities for the day. For as laid back as Italians are about most aspects of life they are rigidly controlled on the beach. Chairs are lined up in very precise rows and you must pay to rest the chair for the day…. strange, they seem to be quite organized when it comes to pinching pennies off tourists...
As I am sure you can surmise I had a very busy day of turning every 15 minutes, swimming, reading trashy magazines… life on vacation can be so rough.
Sasha had come down to the beach with me and for lunch we found a small market that made sandwiches in the back. It was probably the cheapest meal I have had in the whole time I have been away…and one of the best. Fresh bread, mozzarella and tomato sandwich, potato chips and a some type of peach/apricot fruit…I think the fact that it only cost 6 euro and I got to eat it on my beach chair while looking out at one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever seen served to enhance the taste of the food.
Positano bills itself as the place where sandals were invented. (I find this to be the biggest load of…well you know…tourist-scamming-propaganda I may have ever heard…) But they do have these awesome little shops were you go in and they hand make your sandals for you right there. You can pick out any style or combination of straps, colors, glue on sequins-y stuff…. amazing. I was tempted, but managed to
resist. (You’ll all be very proud to know that I also resisted buying several fantastic bags, a few other pairs of shoes to die for and enough jewelry to make
me have to pay extra weight charges on my trip home.)
After the brief window-shopping walk to work off lunch it was back to the beach laying grindstone. During the afternoon we chatted a bit with the family that
was laying out next to us and who incidentally perfectly fit the stereotype of people with moola visiting Amalfi (“You mean you can travel ALL over Europe just staying in hostels?? You have to share a bathroom?? With how many people?) We also got talked up by a local Positano boy (who obviously does this a lot). He told us that this was The Night to go out in Positano and as there were only two places, Next2 (where everyone starts the evening) and Music on The Rocks (where everyone goes for dancing later) we should come out and maybe we would see him there. We
weren’t all that impressed by his “what? I don’t usually talk only to girls traveling alone…this isn’t a line” speech, but decided to go out anyway.
Turns out, those are the only 2 places to go…but they are not nearly bumping with people. We (Sasha and I) had a few drinks with this guy (Jacomo?) and his friend and when it became clear to them that we were not going to be going home with them they lost interest and started talking to some other poor unwitting female tourists. Just as well…Jacomo was sleazy and the friend he brought along was old. I
hope none of you in the “She’s going to find the man of her dreams in Italy” camp got your hopes up.
On the way back to the hostel we stopped and had Dolce (dessert). The tiramisu that I had…was…to…die…for. All I can say is “Wow!” I could hardly speak while I was eating it. Fantastico!
The next day I had to check out of the hostel and start the trek back North to the Borgo. It was a long, long day of traveling. Here’s the cliff notes
version:
10am Ferry from Positano to Salerno
11-1:30 Wander around Salerno (more on this in a moment)
1:30- 3 Train from Salerno to Roma
3-5:45 Wander around Rome train station (not more on this later because it was as dull as it sounds)
5:45-7:10 train from Roma to Arezzo
7:10-7:15 Mad dash to catch Bus
7:15- 8:30 Bus from Arezzo to San Guisitno (More on this later)
8:30- 8:50 Drive from town up the mountain. Whew.
So firstly: the stop in Salerno. I picked up a map from the tourist office near the port and decided to walk down the nice pathway along the coast. Apparently, this is The place for couples to come to make out midday. I am not kidding. I could hardly
walk 30 yards without seeing another couple entwined on a park bench. Now, I don’t mind PDA’s (Public Displays of Affection, for you non abbreviators) but, honestly, some of these people needed to come up for air. I reached the point where I thought I was supposed to turn off for the train station and so I headed up the side street. I stopped at a little deli for a sandwich and some snacks for the train. This was a funny exchange where the worker didn’t know any English and I couldn’t think of the Italian word for soft cheese…
”No no Formaggio NON stagginato.” “Si, si questa e staginatto”
Translation: “No, cheese that isn’t aged/hard.” “Yes, yes this is aged cheese!
After the sandwich ordeal was settled I asked him to point me in the direction of the train…and again after much confusion, map pointing and gestures I realized I
was a very long way from the train station. I took to the streets again but with a bit more urgency in my step. Maybe 20 minutes later I was getting desperate. I saw no signs of a train station and it was getting awfully close to my departure time. I found a café with 2 men working and 4 standing at the bar. I tried to ask them to show me on my map where I was…Suddenly, I had 6 eager men pointing (in various directions) and contradicting each other loudly in Italian. Again after much pointing and explaining (one man even drew me a small map on a napkin) I was off. Hopefully in the direction of the train station.
Never let it be said that 6 random men in a café are anything other than dead useful. I walked right up to the train station and onto my train. Gracie!
Nextly: The bus from Arezzo to San Guistino. This was only interesting because my bus driver was one that I had had before and had noticed was especially cute (and without a wedding band). In fact, when Chance and I were on his bus before she kept cooking up questions I could ask him or ways for I could “accidentally” fall into his lap as we were getting off the bus. But the really interesting part was that for some reason the stop that I usually get off at in SG was closed that day and at the stop before the bus driver turned around and told me this and that I should get off here instead. I hadn’t mentioned where I was going that day or spoken to him at all…. he remembered me all on his own. (Don’t get too excited, who knows when I’ll see him again).
And since then I have been back in life at the Borgo. I had a touch of a stomach bug for the last two days, but am feeling much better now. We had a couple who came up last night for just one evening so it was really nice to have some new faces and conversations up here. Otherwise things are good.
I am re-starting a sadhana of 2 sets “The 15-minute Morning Set” from Heart Centered World and “Master Your Domain” from Kundalini Yoga by Shakta Kaur (the one with the clouds on the cover). These are both great sets that get your energy moving, balance the blood chemistry help to calm the mind and strengthen the nervous system. Additionally, “Master Your Domain” certainly cranks up the heat! They are both great sets, give them a try and let me know how they go for you.
I have my 3rd Gurumukhi lesson with SSK tomorrow. (Gurumukhi is the language that most of our chants in Kundalini Yoga come from and is the language Japji is in…I wrote about this once earlier if you need more info). I am getting better with the consonant sounds but I tend to mix up the vowels. It really is a beautiful language and I am glad I am getting to learn the original script.
In about 10 days I am going to take another short trip. I am hoping that I can find a cheap fare to Finland. I don’t particularly know why but it sounds like a really fun place to go visit for a few days! Keep your fingers crossed.
I guess that’s it for now. Miss you all…thanks for the email updates I really appreciate them!
Love and Blessings,
KNL
its not worth it.) I then proceeded down to the beach where I paid 10 euro (ouch!) for a beach chair umbrella and use of bathroom facilities for the day. For as laid back as Italians are about most aspects of life they are rigidly controlled on the beach. Chairs are lined up in very precise rows and you must pay to rest the chair for the day…. strange, they seem to be quite organized when it comes to pinching pennies off tourists...
As I am sure you can surmise I had a very busy day of turning every 15 minutes, swimming, reading trashy magazines… life on vacation can be so rough.
Sasha had come down to the beach with me and for lunch we found a small market that made sandwiches in the back. It was probably the cheapest meal I have had in the whole time I have been away…and one of the best. Fresh bread, mozzarella and tomato sandwich, potato chips and a some type of peach/apricot fruit…I think the fact that it only cost 6 euro and I got to eat it on my beach chair while looking out at one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever seen served to enhance the taste of the food.
Positano bills itself as the place where sandals were invented. (I find this to be the biggest load of…well you know…tourist-scamming-propaganda I may have ever heard…) But they do have these awesome little shops were you go in and they hand make your sandals for you right there. You can pick out any style or combination of straps, colors, glue on sequins-y stuff…. amazing. I was tempted, but managed to
resist. (You’ll all be very proud to know that I also resisted buying several fantastic bags, a few other pairs of shoes to die for and enough jewelry to make
me have to pay extra weight charges on my trip home.)
After the brief window-shopping walk to work off lunch it was back to the beach laying grindstone. During the afternoon we chatted a bit with the family that
was laying out next to us and who incidentally perfectly fit the stereotype of people with moola visiting Amalfi (“You mean you can travel ALL over Europe just staying in hostels?? You have to share a bathroom?? With how many people?) We also got talked up by a local Positano boy (who obviously does this a lot). He told us that this was The Night to go out in Positano and as there were only two places, Next2 (where everyone starts the evening) and Music on The Rocks (where everyone goes for dancing later) we should come out and maybe we would see him there. We
weren’t all that impressed by his “what? I don’t usually talk only to girls traveling alone…this isn’t a line” speech, but decided to go out anyway.
Turns out, those are the only 2 places to go…but they are not nearly bumping with people. We (Sasha and I) had a few drinks with this guy (Jacomo?) and his friend and when it became clear to them that we were not going to be going home with them they lost interest and started talking to some other poor unwitting female tourists. Just as well…Jacomo was sleazy and the friend he brought along was old. I
hope none of you in the “She’s going to find the man of her dreams in Italy” camp got your hopes up.
On the way back to the hostel we stopped and had Dolce (dessert). The tiramisu that I had…was…to…die…for. All I can say is “Wow!” I could hardly speak while I was eating it. Fantastico!
The next day I had to check out of the hostel and start the trek back North to the Borgo. It was a long, long day of traveling. Here’s the cliff notes
version:
10am Ferry from Positano to Salerno
11-1:30 Wander around Salerno (more on this in a moment)
1:30- 3 Train from Salerno to Roma
3-5:45 Wander around Rome train station (not more on this later because it was as dull as it sounds)
5:45-7:10 train from Roma to Arezzo
7:10-7:15 Mad dash to catch Bus
7:15- 8:30 Bus from Arezzo to San Guisitno (More on this later)
8:30- 8:50 Drive from town up the mountain. Whew.
So firstly: the stop in Salerno. I picked up a map from the tourist office near the port and decided to walk down the nice pathway along the coast. Apparently, this is The place for couples to come to make out midday. I am not kidding. I could hardly
walk 30 yards without seeing another couple entwined on a park bench. Now, I don’t mind PDA’s (Public Displays of Affection, for you non abbreviators) but, honestly, some of these people needed to come up for air. I reached the point where I thought I was supposed to turn off for the train station and so I headed up the side street. I stopped at a little deli for a sandwich and some snacks for the train. This was a funny exchange where the worker didn’t know any English and I couldn’t think of the Italian word for soft cheese…
”No no Formaggio NON stagginato.” “Si, si questa e staginatto”
Translation: “No, cheese that isn’t aged/hard.” “Yes, yes this is aged cheese!
After the sandwich ordeal was settled I asked him to point me in the direction of the train…and again after much confusion, map pointing and gestures I realized I
was a very long way from the train station. I took to the streets again but with a bit more urgency in my step. Maybe 20 minutes later I was getting desperate. I saw no signs of a train station and it was getting awfully close to my departure time. I found a café with 2 men working and 4 standing at the bar. I tried to ask them to show me on my map where I was…Suddenly, I had 6 eager men pointing (in various directions) and contradicting each other loudly in Italian. Again after much pointing and explaining (one man even drew me a small map on a napkin) I was off. Hopefully in the direction of the train station.
Never let it be said that 6 random men in a café are anything other than dead useful. I walked right up to the train station and onto my train. Gracie!
Nextly: The bus from Arezzo to San Guistino. This was only interesting because my bus driver was one that I had had before and had noticed was especially cute (and without a wedding band). In fact, when Chance and I were on his bus before she kept cooking up questions I could ask him or ways for I could “accidentally” fall into his lap as we were getting off the bus. But the really interesting part was that for some reason the stop that I usually get off at in SG was closed that day and at the stop before the bus driver turned around and told me this and that I should get off here instead. I hadn’t mentioned where I was going that day or spoken to him at all…. he remembered me all on his own. (Don’t get too excited, who knows when I’ll see him again).
And since then I have been back in life at the Borgo. I had a touch of a stomach bug for the last two days, but am feeling much better now. We had a couple who came up last night for just one evening so it was really nice to have some new faces and conversations up here. Otherwise things are good.
I am re-starting a sadhana of 2 sets “The 15-minute Morning Set” from Heart Centered World and “Master Your Domain” from Kundalini Yoga by Shakta Kaur (the one with the clouds on the cover). These are both great sets that get your energy moving, balance the blood chemistry help to calm the mind and strengthen the nervous system. Additionally, “Master Your Domain” certainly cranks up the heat! They are both great sets, give them a try and let me know how they go for you.
I have my 3rd Gurumukhi lesson with SSK tomorrow. (Gurumukhi is the language that most of our chants in Kundalini Yoga come from and is the language Japji is in…I wrote about this once earlier if you need more info). I am getting better with the consonant sounds but I tend to mix up the vowels. It really is a beautiful language and I am glad I am getting to learn the original script.
In about 10 days I am going to take another short trip. I am hoping that I can find a cheap fare to Finland. I don’t particularly know why but it sounds like a really fun place to go visit for a few days! Keep your fingers crossed.
I guess that’s it for now. Miss you all…thanks for the email updates I really appreciate them!
Love and Blessings,
KNL
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
"It’s All The Bloody Stairs”
--A British tourist explaining to his wife at dinner why her calves were sore.
New Pictures are up at http://www.kelseylumpkin.shutterfly.com
My first morning waking up in the hostel was…an early one. We hadn’t closed the shutters that open out on to the balcony so; at 5am the room was BRIGHT. It was
also bright at 5:20, 6:10, 6:30, 7 and 7:30 when I finally gave up and decided I wasn’t going to get to sleep in. Made my way downstairs for the “not included but really reasonable and good” hostel breakfast. Well, they were right on one count…and itwasn’t the “good” one. Oh well.
I had signed up the night before for one of the day trips to Capri (and island just off of the Amalfi coast) and so I headed down (and down and down…remember? The bloody stairs?? I tell you, my legs hadn’t forgotten) to the beach. It was only me
and 4 other people on my particular tour. We rode in a motorboat about 30 minutes over to Capri. The island is known for these amazing rock formations along the coast as well as grottos (basically big caves) that are supposed to be beautiful. I had heard especially wonderful things about the Blue Grotto, you take a row boat inside and the opening is so small that you actually have to lie down in the boat to get in and once you’re inside everything is a sparkly, beautiful blue. (The color is due to some combination of how the sunlight enters through the small opening
and the watercolor…). When we arrived at the entrance to the Grotto there were already several boats ahead of us. Our driver (boater? Captain?) said it would be
at least a 45-minute wait before we could go in and it was really not that great and basically a tourist trap. The other people in the boat didn’t want towait. I did, but I didn’t want to make everyone else wait just for me. Now, I am super bummed that I didn’t stick up for myself. It was an important lesson to learn though. This is most likely one of the only times I will be in these places in my life…and I need to make it the trip I want to have. Maybe when AE and Meg come out we will be in that area again and I can be a little snot and insist that we go see the Blue Grotto, ‘cause I wanna and I don’t care what anybody else wants to do. Hmph. (Or, maybe not.)
So we docked in Capri. The town of Capri is about 3K up the mountain from the marina. You can take a bus or this lift-thing called the funicular (which is sort
of like the trolley’s in San Francisco). Well…I was going to have 6 hours on my own in this town (and there we long lines for both) so I decided to walk up to the town. Wow. That is a long, steep 3K. But rewarding nonetheless. Once “up top” I wandered around a bit and gawked at the absolute throngs of people there. Capri is apparently a day trip for people all along the Amalfi coast…which means you can
hardly walk down the street for the people. Ew. I finally purchased a map and saw that there was a land grotto that was pretty out of the way and looked like it probably didn’t get much traffic. So I headed out in search of this grotto, which was sure to make up for missing the Blue one. Found the road, it started off as a pleasant, narrow, cobbled road and then it became narrower (only scooters could get by now) and then narrower and then it became a dirt path (and suddenly I was conscious that I hadn’t passed anyone else in quite some time) and then the path ended. There I was, standing in the middle of…a junkyard. I am not kidding. The dirt path just ended in the middle of somebody’s garbage heap. I could see no
other path going forward and certainly no amazingly beautiful cave. I was starting to get a bit frustrated…and hungry.
I made my way back towards town and tried to find a restaurant that seemed off the beaten path (hahaha…that doesn’t seem to exists in Capri). I was very excited to try to Caprese salad (which the island theoretically invented). Caprese salad, in case you don’t know, is tomatoes; fresh mozzarella and basil
drizzled in olive oil. It is a very simple salad and whether it is fantastic or horrible depends completely on the freshness and quality of the ingredients. I
was disappointed. Hard, yellow tomatoes, dry mozzarella, 3 small basil leaves…
So the first half of the day in Capri was a complete bust. I decided that was going to turn around, starting right now. I picked out a place called “Somebody’s Gardens.” It actually was called someone’s name…but I can’t think of it at the
moment…Tiberius? Augustus? I made my way there.
(Tip: When traveling in unfamiliar city…spend the extra euro to get the big map…just trust me on this).
So, finally I arrived at whoever’s gardens and they were, really, quite spectacular. Amazingly kept grounds, fantastic views out to the sea…a nice, quiet
place to relax. Incidentally while in the gardens I took a picture of two Americans who were traveling together. I saw them 3 times over the next few days and every time the guy thanked me effusively for taking their picture…. he obviously didn’t grow up with Minnesota Nice…) (By the way, is effusively the right word there?? I mean a lot. )
It was about time to head back towards the boat. I wandered along the main shopping way back towards the marina. Capri caters to certain extremely wealthy clientele. I saw 2 Prada shops, Gucci, Dolce & Gabana, and Swarsky Crystal among many other very posh places. I always wonder how (even if you have millions of dollars) you can justify spending $125 on, say, a sock…
On the boat back to Positano I asked if anyone wanted to swim…no one seemed that interested but I put my newly emboldened foot down and said that I would like
to stop and swim. So we did and 2 of the other people got out and swam with me…and really enjoyed it. So, there! Actually it was freezing, but great and the sea is SO salty that you hardly have to swim at all…you just sort of float there. Neat!
Back up (and up and up) to the hostel after a quick (small) shower and change I met a girl who had just shown up at the hostel traveling from Australia. Sasha and I decided to head down towards the beach and try to find somewhere for dinner. I was really in the mood for Risotto…but everywhere that had risotto only offered seafood. (I am told that if you’re into seafood Amalfi coast is the place to go). At one place a waiter came out and was chatting us up. I decided to keep going with my “make this trip exactly what you want it to be” attitude and asked if they’d
make me a non-seafood risotto. He went back to the chef and after some back and forth…I was sitting down to an amazing plate of vegetable risotto. And it was
fantastic. After dinner Sasha and I stayed down at the beach to listen to the free music (tonight it was a Mediterranean pop group…can you imagine an accordion in a pop group…oh, yea…imagine it.)
Then back up to the hostel and sleep.
Ok, I’ve rambled on enough for now. Still to come: my last day in Positano and the trip home. Plus an update on how things are going at the Borgo (Preview: pretty darn good).
Hope everyone is well,
Love and blessings
KNL
New Pictures are up at http://www.kelseylumpkin.shutterfly.com
My first morning waking up in the hostel was…an early one. We hadn’t closed the shutters that open out on to the balcony so; at 5am the room was BRIGHT. It was
also bright at 5:20, 6:10, 6:30, 7 and 7:30 when I finally gave up and decided I wasn’t going to get to sleep in. Made my way downstairs for the “not included but really reasonable and good” hostel breakfast. Well, they were right on one count…and itwasn’t the “good” one. Oh well.
I had signed up the night before for one of the day trips to Capri (and island just off of the Amalfi coast) and so I headed down (and down and down…remember? The bloody stairs?? I tell you, my legs hadn’t forgotten) to the beach. It was only me
and 4 other people on my particular tour. We rode in a motorboat about 30 minutes over to Capri. The island is known for these amazing rock formations along the coast as well as grottos (basically big caves) that are supposed to be beautiful. I had heard especially wonderful things about the Blue Grotto, you take a row boat inside and the opening is so small that you actually have to lie down in the boat to get in and once you’re inside everything is a sparkly, beautiful blue. (The color is due to some combination of how the sunlight enters through the small opening
and the watercolor…). When we arrived at the entrance to the Grotto there were already several boats ahead of us. Our driver (boater? Captain?) said it would be
at least a 45-minute wait before we could go in and it was really not that great and basically a tourist trap. The other people in the boat didn’t want towait. I did, but I didn’t want to make everyone else wait just for me. Now, I am super bummed that I didn’t stick up for myself. It was an important lesson to learn though. This is most likely one of the only times I will be in these places in my life…and I need to make it the trip I want to have. Maybe when AE and Meg come out we will be in that area again and I can be a little snot and insist that we go see the Blue Grotto, ‘cause I wanna and I don’t care what anybody else wants to do. Hmph. (Or, maybe not.)
So we docked in Capri. The town of Capri is about 3K up the mountain from the marina. You can take a bus or this lift-thing called the funicular (which is sort
of like the trolley’s in San Francisco). Well…I was going to have 6 hours on my own in this town (and there we long lines for both) so I decided to walk up to the town. Wow. That is a long, steep 3K. But rewarding nonetheless. Once “up top” I wandered around a bit and gawked at the absolute throngs of people there. Capri is apparently a day trip for people all along the Amalfi coast…which means you can
hardly walk down the street for the people. Ew. I finally purchased a map and saw that there was a land grotto that was pretty out of the way and looked like it probably didn’t get much traffic. So I headed out in search of this grotto, which was sure to make up for missing the Blue one. Found the road, it started off as a pleasant, narrow, cobbled road and then it became narrower (only scooters could get by now) and then narrower and then it became a dirt path (and suddenly I was conscious that I hadn’t passed anyone else in quite some time) and then the path ended. There I was, standing in the middle of…a junkyard. I am not kidding. The dirt path just ended in the middle of somebody’s garbage heap. I could see no
other path going forward and certainly no amazingly beautiful cave. I was starting to get a bit frustrated…and hungry.
I made my way back towards town and tried to find a restaurant that seemed off the beaten path (hahaha…that doesn’t seem to exists in Capri). I was very excited to try to Caprese salad (which the island theoretically invented). Caprese salad, in case you don’t know, is tomatoes; fresh mozzarella and basil
drizzled in olive oil. It is a very simple salad and whether it is fantastic or horrible depends completely on the freshness and quality of the ingredients. I
was disappointed. Hard, yellow tomatoes, dry mozzarella, 3 small basil leaves…
So the first half of the day in Capri was a complete bust. I decided that was going to turn around, starting right now. I picked out a place called “Somebody’s Gardens.” It actually was called someone’s name…but I can’t think of it at the
moment…Tiberius? Augustus? I made my way there.
(Tip: When traveling in unfamiliar city…spend the extra euro to get the big map…just trust me on this).
So, finally I arrived at whoever’s gardens and they were, really, quite spectacular. Amazingly kept grounds, fantastic views out to the sea…a nice, quiet
place to relax. Incidentally while in the gardens I took a picture of two Americans who were traveling together. I saw them 3 times over the next few days and every time the guy thanked me effusively for taking their picture…. he obviously didn’t grow up with Minnesota Nice…) (By the way, is effusively the right word there?? I mean a lot. )
It was about time to head back towards the boat. I wandered along the main shopping way back towards the marina. Capri caters to certain extremely wealthy clientele. I saw 2 Prada shops, Gucci, Dolce & Gabana, and Swarsky Crystal among many other very posh places. I always wonder how (even if you have millions of dollars) you can justify spending $125 on, say, a sock…
On the boat back to Positano I asked if anyone wanted to swim…no one seemed that interested but I put my newly emboldened foot down and said that I would like
to stop and swim. So we did and 2 of the other people got out and swam with me…and really enjoyed it. So, there! Actually it was freezing, but great and the sea is SO salty that you hardly have to swim at all…you just sort of float there. Neat!
Back up (and up and up) to the hostel after a quick (small) shower and change I met a girl who had just shown up at the hostel traveling from Australia. Sasha and I decided to head down towards the beach and try to find somewhere for dinner. I was really in the mood for Risotto…but everywhere that had risotto only offered seafood. (I am told that if you’re into seafood Amalfi coast is the place to go). At one place a waiter came out and was chatting us up. I decided to keep going with my “make this trip exactly what you want it to be” attitude and asked if they’d
make me a non-seafood risotto. He went back to the chef and after some back and forth…I was sitting down to an amazing plate of vegetable risotto. And it was
fantastic. After dinner Sasha and I stayed down at the beach to listen to the free music (tonight it was a Mediterranean pop group…can you imagine an accordion in a pop group…oh, yea…imagine it.)
Then back up to the hostel and sleep.
Ok, I’ve rambled on enough for now. Still to come: my last day in Positano and the trip home. Plus an update on how things are going at the Borgo (Preview: pretty darn good).
Hope everyone is well,
Love and blessings
KNL
Sunday, June 10, 2007
The Only Men Who Can Pull of Pink Pants Are Either Gay or Italian
I caught an early bus from San Guistino to Arezzo and then a train to Rome and another train to Salerno. Let me take a moment to make a suggestion to people with children under the age of 8. It may sound romantic and fun to travel Europe with your kids. It won’t be. For you or for them. Traveling in Europe involves long train rides with nothing much to do except run up and down the aisles, sing songs really loudly and climb into seats that are not yours. And the kids really get in the way of the rest of us trying to do these things… I felt bad for the young family on my train to Rome. Obviously the kid was sick of being told to be still and be quiet…and really is it fair to ask a 5 year old to be still and quiet for 3 hours? And the parents were frustrated and embarrassed because their darling 5 year old wouldn’t be still and quiet. It’s just a bad situation all around. Don’t do it. Go to Disneyland on vacation. OK. Rant over. I made it to Salerno, where my guidebook told me you just cross the street and step onto one of the many buses running up the Amalfi coast. Interestingly (or should I say predictably)…it didn’t quite work out like that.
After investigating the 3 different types of bus stops around the train station I figured out which ones had the buses that ran up the coast. And also found out that contrary to the guide book you had to buy a ticket in the office (not once you boarded the train). AND, I managed to hit the one time during the day when a bus doesn’t show up every 25 minutes. AND it was hot. AND really sunny. AND I hadn’t technically “eaten” all day. Needless to say I was a joyful (read: grumpy)traveler. But the bus did come (an hour and fifteen minutes later) and it was blessedly air-conditioned. And we started the life-flashing-before-your-eyes-at-every-moment drive up the coast. All of the towns on the Amalfi coast are basically carved into the side of a cliff. (I’m not sure whose idea this was or how they managed to pull it off but it makes for some really beautiful towns…and some really steep, winding, narrow roads.) These roads were not designed for buses. I don’t think some of these roads were really even designed for scooter travel…but they drive buses on them nonetheless. The roads are so narrow that they actually have traffic guards who at certain points will stop traffic completely in one direction because the turns are too tight for two cars to get around…ai! Honestly I am amazed so many cars on the coast still have their side-mirrors. But the view is fantastic. You know that swoopy light-on-your-feet feeling you get when you see the ocean for the first time in a long time…I definitely had that going on. The little sly smile that creeps onto your face when you look out and see the sparkling blue water all the way out to the horizon. The natural relaxing of your shoulders and softening in your chest…yea, I had that going on. And I must comment here on the water. It Is Blue. A kind of blue that I haven’t quite seen before…not the aqua-blue of the Caribbean, not the gray-blue of California…just really purely and completely gorgeously blue. Wow.
When I could tear my eyes away from the ocean I was also amazed at the lemon orchards. First of all that people would think to carve houses into a cliff…. but then to actually carve out land to grow things…amazing! The lemon orchards are on these giant steps (probably each 6 feet high and 4 feet deep). There can’t be much soil to support root structure so they build these intricate wooden cages around the trees to support more branches…and the number of lemons and the size of the lemons…it takes your breath away. They look like bunches of yellow grapes until you get close and realize each grape is slightly larger than a softball…wow. So, the bus stops in Amalfi and everyone gets off. But I am supposed to go on to Positano…oops, guide bookforgot the mention you may have to switch buses. Finally I ask one of the bus drivers standing around smoking… “Scusi, quale autobus per Positano??” He points to the bus I am standing next to “Questa, con me.” I should take that bus there! With him! He indicated with a huge smile. Ahh... relief, I am almost there. Another side note here: I have noticedt hat the Italian people are extremely helpful and patient whenever I have needed assistance. (I actually had a woman once walk me over to the platform where I was supposed to go). It must be tiring to them to be constantly assaulted in the summer months with hoards of helplessly lost and clueless tourists. But if you just ask them “Does this train go to Rome?”“Should I get off here?” “Am I the stupidest American you’ve ever met?” They almost always give you a big smile and as much help as they can… how pleasant. I hope that I can return the favor if I ever see someone struggling in a new place.
I had arrived. 9 hours after starting out. Tired, hot, hungry and exhilarated to my hostel in Positano. Here is the amazing part of traveling on your own…you just make friends with everyone. I had a fantastic chat with a guy named Justin (from LA, who wants to get into yoga more) on the train to Rome. I commiserated and compared strategies with a group of 4 from Houston while waiting for/trying to figure out the bus situation in Salerno. As soon as I had settled into the hostel Susie from Hungary asked if I’d like to join her and 2 of the other guys form the hostel for dinner. How fantastic. And these people all give you great tips… Venice is a must see, don’t bother trying to see the Mona Lisa in the Lourve, the way to the beach is down there…crucial stuff. So I headed out to dinner with Susie, Ravi and Lon. Had margarita pizza and salad…it was really quite good. And of course, the view from the restaurant was fantastic. Then I found out that this happens to be apart of Positano’s summer arts festival. And this week was the celebration of music…so there was free music every night down on the beach. We trekked down and down and down… and got there to see some of the“traditional” Mediterranean music. I must to say I had never seen a tambourine solo before…and it was quite spectacular. Also had a glass of Limocello, a lemon liqueur the area is known for. Remember those gigantic lemons?? And then we had to climb back up and up and up to the hostel. A lot of hills and a lot of steps in Positano. Whew…but we made it up just before our midnight curfew and all was well. The hostel really was rather clean and the staff very nice…but it was small. No where to put your stuff, hardly enough room to turn around in the shower…I guess that is what you expect when you pay 22 euro a night…and honestly I was so exhausted that I managed to sleep just fine on my itty bitty bed. Well, I think that is a long enough post for now. I will post again very soon with the rest of my time in Positano: a day trip to Capri, more new friends, fantastic food, stairs…Hope everyone is doing well,
Love and Blessings,
KNL
After investigating the 3 different types of bus stops around the train station I figured out which ones had the buses that ran up the coast. And also found out that contrary to the guide book you had to buy a ticket in the office (not once you boarded the train). AND, I managed to hit the one time during the day when a bus doesn’t show up every 25 minutes. AND it was hot. AND really sunny. AND I hadn’t technically “eaten” all day. Needless to say I was a joyful (read: grumpy)traveler. But the bus did come (an hour and fifteen minutes later) and it was blessedly air-conditioned. And we started the life-flashing-before-your-eyes-at-every-moment drive up the coast. All of the towns on the Amalfi coast are basically carved into the side of a cliff. (I’m not sure whose idea this was or how they managed to pull it off but it makes for some really beautiful towns…and some really steep, winding, narrow roads.) These roads were not designed for buses. I don’t think some of these roads were really even designed for scooter travel…but they drive buses on them nonetheless. The roads are so narrow that they actually have traffic guards who at certain points will stop traffic completely in one direction because the turns are too tight for two cars to get around…ai! Honestly I am amazed so many cars on the coast still have their side-mirrors. But the view is fantastic. You know that swoopy light-on-your-feet feeling you get when you see the ocean for the first time in a long time…I definitely had that going on. The little sly smile that creeps onto your face when you look out and see the sparkling blue water all the way out to the horizon. The natural relaxing of your shoulders and softening in your chest…yea, I had that going on. And I must comment here on the water. It Is Blue. A kind of blue that I haven’t quite seen before…not the aqua-blue of the Caribbean, not the gray-blue of California…just really purely and completely gorgeously blue. Wow.
When I could tear my eyes away from the ocean I was also amazed at the lemon orchards. First of all that people would think to carve houses into a cliff…. but then to actually carve out land to grow things…amazing! The lemon orchards are on these giant steps (probably each 6 feet high and 4 feet deep). There can’t be much soil to support root structure so they build these intricate wooden cages around the trees to support more branches…and the number of lemons and the size of the lemons…it takes your breath away. They look like bunches of yellow grapes until you get close and realize each grape is slightly larger than a softball…wow. So, the bus stops in Amalfi and everyone gets off. But I am supposed to go on to Positano…oops, guide bookforgot the mention you may have to switch buses. Finally I ask one of the bus drivers standing around smoking… “Scusi, quale autobus per Positano??” He points to the bus I am standing next to “Questa, con me.” I should take that bus there! With him! He indicated with a huge smile. Ahh... relief, I am almost there. Another side note here: I have noticedt hat the Italian people are extremely helpful and patient whenever I have needed assistance. (I actually had a woman once walk me over to the platform where I was supposed to go). It must be tiring to them to be constantly assaulted in the summer months with hoards of helplessly lost and clueless tourists. But if you just ask them “Does this train go to Rome?”“Should I get off here?” “Am I the stupidest American you’ve ever met?” They almost always give you a big smile and as much help as they can… how pleasant. I hope that I can return the favor if I ever see someone struggling in a new place.
I had arrived. 9 hours after starting out. Tired, hot, hungry and exhilarated to my hostel in Positano. Here is the amazing part of traveling on your own…you just make friends with everyone. I had a fantastic chat with a guy named Justin (from LA, who wants to get into yoga more) on the train to Rome. I commiserated and compared strategies with a group of 4 from Houston while waiting for/trying to figure out the bus situation in Salerno. As soon as I had settled into the hostel Susie from Hungary asked if I’d like to join her and 2 of the other guys form the hostel for dinner. How fantastic. And these people all give you great tips… Venice is a must see, don’t bother trying to see the Mona Lisa in the Lourve, the way to the beach is down there…crucial stuff. So I headed out to dinner with Susie, Ravi and Lon. Had margarita pizza and salad…it was really quite good. And of course, the view from the restaurant was fantastic. Then I found out that this happens to be apart of Positano’s summer arts festival. And this week was the celebration of music…so there was free music every night down on the beach. We trekked down and down and down… and got there to see some of the“traditional” Mediterranean music. I must to say I had never seen a tambourine solo before…and it was quite spectacular. Also had a glass of Limocello, a lemon liqueur the area is known for. Remember those gigantic lemons?? And then we had to climb back up and up and up to the hostel. A lot of hills and a lot of steps in Positano. Whew…but we made it up just before our midnight curfew and all was well. The hostel really was rather clean and the staff very nice…but it was small. No where to put your stuff, hardly enough room to turn around in the shower…I guess that is what you expect when you pay 22 euro a night…and honestly I was so exhausted that I managed to sleep just fine on my itty bitty bed. Well, I think that is a long enough post for now. I will post again very soon with the rest of my time in Positano: a day trip to Capri, more new friends, fantastic food, stairs…Hope everyone is doing well,
Love and Blessings,
KNL
Saturday, June 2, 2007
The ‘Rents Come To Visit
*Oops, these got out of order...chronologically this post should have come before the last one...oh, well. Hope you enjoy it now!)
Monday morning. Way too early. I was up and out of the Borgo. I had important people to meet. So Ic aught an early bus to Arezzo and then an early train to Florence. Arriving in Florence around 9:45am. Those important people, however, didn’t arrive on the train I expected them on…hmmm. Check my cell. Missed call. Mom and Wes had missed the train from Rome to Florence. They were sitting on a bus in early morning Rome traffic, moving about 30 yards every few minutes. So I had a few hours to kill in Florence by myself. It is amazing how much easier a city is the second time you visit. (In case you don’t remember my first trip to Florence was short and not that great). But this time I had enough of the layout of the city to wander around and not feel completely lost and helpless. I saw the Duomo (Man that thing is big!); I saw the fake David and the sculpture garden outside the Uffizi…. I saw whatever river/canal it is that runs through Florence. And here was the highlight of my morning. Several OLD men, in VERY small swimsuits hanging out by the river. I didn’t actually see any of them swimming (and the water looked, perhaps, toxic if one were to actually enter it). But these old guys were hanging out and looking good. I tried to get some photos and in one of the shots of the river you can see one of ‘em over in the corner in a blue suit.
(Oh yeah, new photos are uploaded to www.kelseylumpkin.shutterfly.com).
Back to the train station. Several hours after their scheduled arrival Mom and Wes arrive in Florence healthy, happy, with all of their stuff and excited to see me. It was really nice to be with them for a couple of days…just very relaxing, comfortable and known. The “known” has been in scarce supply for me this past month, which really is good for me, but it was still very nice to have them around. After dropping their stuff off and settling into the hotel we shuttled into Florence again. First stop: The Duomo. The line to go into the main part of the church was really long and SSK had told me that it really wasn’t that impressive from the inside anyway…so we decided to walk around the outside and look. About halfway around their was another door into the church that said it was only to go in and look at the dome/cupola, AND there was almost no line. Since the dome is the really cool part of this church anyway we decided to go into this section. (History Tidbit: The dome of the Florence duomo is such a big deal because Burnaleschi (the architect)figured out a new engineering system that allowed him to make a way bigger dome than had ever been made before. Even today people aren’t sure exactly how he did it given the technology and information he had available to him a the time…. and let me tell you, this is one honkin’ dome.) When we are almost to the front of the line I see a small sign that says (in several languages), “There are 463 steps. There is no lift.” I figure you can look at the dome from the floor and maybe climb partway up to see things closer. WRONG. You must go up. There is no looking at the dome from the floor. You go up the first few hundred steps and get to the base of the frescos in the dome…it is amazing to see this so close up…and looking down into the church it is amazing how high up you really are. Suddenly I look up and see that there is another walking ring several yards above the one we are currently on…and there are people on it! We’re still going up. We go up. And up. And up some more. Finally we get to a set of stairs that is so steep it is basically a ladder and at the top, suddenly, we are outside. On the top of the friggin-cupola of the mother-loving Duomo…in Florence…Italy…yow-za! I can’t even begin to describe the overwhelming awesome-ness (awesome in the old sense of the word, something that fills you with awe.) On the way down from the top is when we walked the second ring closer to the frescos…it was even cooler knowing where you were in respect to the outside…wow wow wow. And then began the decent. A lot of stairs down. A lot of small, spiral stairs down. My legs didn’t stop shaking for several hours after the climb/ descent. But it was completely and totally worth it. We were disappointed that no one was selling “I climbed the Cupola” shirts at the bottom…there’s a business idea for someone. After that we wandered around a bit, found a place to have dinner and then headed back to the hotel, exhausted. Our second day in Florence was equally exciting. We had reservations to go into the Academia (which is the museum that houses Michelangelo’s David) at 1:30. Wes had been told that we were to go to the museum earlier and pick up our tickets, then come back at 1:30 and walk on in. We showed up and found a very Italian system at work. That is…lots of people standing around, no one really sure what’s going on and everyone trying to sneak their way in. The line for people without reservations must have been several hours long. (After this experience I’ve decided that I will not go to any place like this without a reservation. It is not worth the time of waiting in line.) About 45 minutes of shoving and Americans getting all bent out of shape later we realize how the system works. Every 15 minutes (or so) they call out the next reservation time…. anyone with that time pushes their way to the front and gets in. Tour groups get in whenever they show up. And the poor suckers in the non-reservation line get allowed in 15-20 people at a time…maybe every half hour or so. So, we really don’t need to be there until 1:30…we’ve got an hour to kill. I had read about a palace-turned-museum that was supposed to have one of the most enchanting rooms in all of Florence. So, we decided to check it out while we waited. The name of the palace (I think) is Palazzo Medici Ridicci (or something like that). Most of it was cool, interesting pieces and neat architecture. And then we found the chapel. On the top floor of one of the sections of the palace the most beautiful little space. About 6 people could fit inside and every wall is covered with these fantasy paintings of princes and princesses, hunting scenes, angels signing…really amazingly beautiful. Whew! Then it was back to the Academia, where we showed up just as the last of the 1:30 time slot was shoving their way in and we slipped inside. Through the metal detectors (really? Metal detectors?) And into the big hall and…. David. Mom cried. (For those of you who know her, this doesn’t mean much…but it is a really amazing piece of work) We must have spent almost an hour looking at David. One of the cool things about Renaissance art is that the figures start to get much more realistic than inprevious works. This is because they began doing cadaver dissections to see how the human body was put together. This allowed them to replicate more authentically. David’s SCM’s, gastrocs and lats are all very convincing. I was also really impressed by some of the unfinished sculptures they had in the hall leading up to David…it is amazing to see how a big hunk of marble gets worked into such a perfect figure. Other things in the Academia were only so-so (although Wes really liked the exhibit on old instruments). We were getting on museum-overload…. or a phrase I heard and liked better…we had an art-hangover. So we wandered the streets some more. Found the covered bridge that houses only jewelers and goldsmiths…that was some fun window-shopping! Grabbed some bread, cheese and wine and headed back to the hotel. (After some gelato, of course). Wow. That’s probably a long enough post for now. I’ll write again soon and tell you all about traveling up to the Borgo with Mom and Wes, our day trip to Assisi etc. I miss you all and hope you are doing well! (Send me e-mails with updates about what is going on in your life and/ or the world in general. I don’ t get very reliable news up here. Someone told me the Golden Gate Bride had fallen down. Oops. I may not be able to respond to each e-mail, slow Internet, but I really appreciate them.)
The best email address is lumpkin_k@yahoo.com.
Love and blessings, KNL
Monday morning. Way too early. I was up and out of the Borgo. I had important people to meet. So Ic aught an early bus to Arezzo and then an early train to Florence. Arriving in Florence around 9:45am. Those important people, however, didn’t arrive on the train I expected them on…hmmm. Check my cell. Missed call. Mom and Wes had missed the train from Rome to Florence. They were sitting on a bus in early morning Rome traffic, moving about 30 yards every few minutes. So I had a few hours to kill in Florence by myself. It is amazing how much easier a city is the second time you visit. (In case you don’t remember my first trip to Florence was short and not that great). But this time I had enough of the layout of the city to wander around and not feel completely lost and helpless. I saw the Duomo (Man that thing is big!); I saw the fake David and the sculpture garden outside the Uffizi…. I saw whatever river/canal it is that runs through Florence. And here was the highlight of my morning. Several OLD men, in VERY small swimsuits hanging out by the river. I didn’t actually see any of them swimming (and the water looked, perhaps, toxic if one were to actually enter it). But these old guys were hanging out and looking good. I tried to get some photos and in one of the shots of the river you can see one of ‘em over in the corner in a blue suit.
(Oh yeah, new photos are uploaded to www.kelseylumpkin.shutterfly.com).
Back to the train station. Several hours after their scheduled arrival Mom and Wes arrive in Florence healthy, happy, with all of their stuff and excited to see me. It was really nice to be with them for a couple of days…just very relaxing, comfortable and known. The “known” has been in scarce supply for me this past month, which really is good for me, but it was still very nice to have them around. After dropping their stuff off and settling into the hotel we shuttled into Florence again. First stop: The Duomo. The line to go into the main part of the church was really long and SSK had told me that it really wasn’t that impressive from the inside anyway…so we decided to walk around the outside and look. About halfway around their was another door into the church that said it was only to go in and look at the dome/cupola, AND there was almost no line. Since the dome is the really cool part of this church anyway we decided to go into this section. (History Tidbit: The dome of the Florence duomo is such a big deal because Burnaleschi (the architect)figured out a new engineering system that allowed him to make a way bigger dome than had ever been made before. Even today people aren’t sure exactly how he did it given the technology and information he had available to him a the time…. and let me tell you, this is one honkin’ dome.) When we are almost to the front of the line I see a small sign that says (in several languages), “There are 463 steps. There is no lift.” I figure you can look at the dome from the floor and maybe climb partway up to see things closer. WRONG. You must go up. There is no looking at the dome from the floor. You go up the first few hundred steps and get to the base of the frescos in the dome…it is amazing to see this so close up…and looking down into the church it is amazing how high up you really are. Suddenly I look up and see that there is another walking ring several yards above the one we are currently on…and there are people on it! We’re still going up. We go up. And up. And up some more. Finally we get to a set of stairs that is so steep it is basically a ladder and at the top, suddenly, we are outside. On the top of the friggin-cupola of the mother-loving Duomo…in Florence…Italy…yow-za! I can’t even begin to describe the overwhelming awesome-ness (awesome in the old sense of the word, something that fills you with awe.) On the way down from the top is when we walked the second ring closer to the frescos…it was even cooler knowing where you were in respect to the outside…wow wow wow. And then began the decent. A lot of stairs down. A lot of small, spiral stairs down. My legs didn’t stop shaking for several hours after the climb/ descent. But it was completely and totally worth it. We were disappointed that no one was selling “I climbed the Cupola” shirts at the bottom…there’s a business idea for someone. After that we wandered around a bit, found a place to have dinner and then headed back to the hotel, exhausted. Our second day in Florence was equally exciting. We had reservations to go into the Academia (which is the museum that houses Michelangelo’s David) at 1:30. Wes had been told that we were to go to the museum earlier and pick up our tickets, then come back at 1:30 and walk on in. We showed up and found a very Italian system at work. That is…lots of people standing around, no one really sure what’s going on and everyone trying to sneak their way in. The line for people without reservations must have been several hours long. (After this experience I’ve decided that I will not go to any place like this without a reservation. It is not worth the time of waiting in line.) About 45 minutes of shoving and Americans getting all bent out of shape later we realize how the system works. Every 15 minutes (or so) they call out the next reservation time…. anyone with that time pushes their way to the front and gets in. Tour groups get in whenever they show up. And the poor suckers in the non-reservation line get allowed in 15-20 people at a time…maybe every half hour or so. So, we really don’t need to be there until 1:30…we’ve got an hour to kill. I had read about a palace-turned-museum that was supposed to have one of the most enchanting rooms in all of Florence. So, we decided to check it out while we waited. The name of the palace (I think) is Palazzo Medici Ridicci (or something like that). Most of it was cool, interesting pieces and neat architecture. And then we found the chapel. On the top floor of one of the sections of the palace the most beautiful little space. About 6 people could fit inside and every wall is covered with these fantasy paintings of princes and princesses, hunting scenes, angels signing…really amazingly beautiful. Whew! Then it was back to the Academia, where we showed up just as the last of the 1:30 time slot was shoving their way in and we slipped inside. Through the metal detectors (really? Metal detectors?) And into the big hall and…. David. Mom cried. (For those of you who know her, this doesn’t mean much…but it is a really amazing piece of work) We must have spent almost an hour looking at David. One of the cool things about Renaissance art is that the figures start to get much more realistic than inprevious works. This is because they began doing cadaver dissections to see how the human body was put together. This allowed them to replicate more authentically. David’s SCM’s, gastrocs and lats are all very convincing. I was also really impressed by some of the unfinished sculptures they had in the hall leading up to David…it is amazing to see how a big hunk of marble gets worked into such a perfect figure. Other things in the Academia were only so-so (although Wes really liked the exhibit on old instruments). We were getting on museum-overload…. or a phrase I heard and liked better…we had an art-hangover. So we wandered the streets some more. Found the covered bridge that houses only jewelers and goldsmiths…that was some fun window-shopping! Grabbed some bread, cheese and wine and headed back to the hotel. (After some gelato, of course). Wow. That’s probably a long enough post for now. I’ll write again soon and tell you all about traveling up to the Borgo with Mom and Wes, our day trip to Assisi etc. I miss you all and hope you are doing well! (Send me e-mails with updates about what is going on in your life and/ or the world in general. I don’ t get very reliable news up here. Someone told me the Golden Gate Bride had fallen down. Oops. I may not be able to respond to each e-mail, slow Internet, but I really appreciate them.)
The best email address is lumpkin_k@yahoo.com.
Love and blessings, KNL
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