Do not think me gentle because I speak in praise of gentleness, or elegant because I honour the grace that keeps this world. I am a [wo]man crude as any, gross of speech, intolerant, stubborn, angry, full of fits and furies. That I may have spoken well at times, is not natural. A wonder is what it is. (Wendell Berry)

Sunday, April 16, 2006

My Trip To Italy. Part 1.

As many of you know, Jo and I went to Italy for spring break. It was great. Upon arriving back to Madrid, we sat down and wrote out about fifteen pages of play by play action so that we could both remember everything that happened. This is the condensed version, with pictures.

Our Trip to Italy. Part One.

Seven Days. Seven Cities. Incredible? Stupid? Or just the rare combination of two girls- one British, one American- coming together to explore and to conquer the world? We like to call it the VicJoria effect. The scene starts at 5:30 am Saturday morning, the third of March, 2006 in Tribunal. The dubious duo are accosted by a strange man (later turning out to be Jonathan) who mugs Victoria of her house keys then scampers to sleep in her house and eat her peanut butter (no one else was there). The tired two trundle away from Tribunal to hail a taxi midst sandwich selling chinos and drunken delinquents loitering on Gran Via.

Mistaking us for the drunken, puke prone teenagers, most of the taxi’s just sped by leaving only their spray splattering us in mockery. However, one nice cabbie (realising that our backpacks weren’t full of party clothes or drugs) picked us up and we made our way to Avenida de America in good time for the bus to Zaragoza which arrived around 9 am. Little did we know, the time we spent in Zaragoza was a good indication of the time it took us to explore a city to our satisfaction. (about five hours). After what became a traditional napolitana de chocolate for breakfast, the satiated students ventured on towards the Alferia, or an ancient fortress occupied by the Moors, then the Christians, then the Spanish Monarchs.




We then walked to the Basilica de Pilar in the center and Victoria, recalling her childhood knowledge of the various Catholic traditions, educated Jo on why everything was so shiny.


Next, we explored the town market, filled with every thing from fruits and vegetables to boar’s heads on meat hooks. Apparently, the “Lord of the Flies” has inspired more than just high school teachers. The lord-of-the-flies-esque moment did not hinder our stomachs though, because next, we found a seven euro menu del dia, which included the famous and delicious fish soup of the north.

After lunch, we caught the first of what would be many Ryan Air connection buses to the Ryan Air airport/bus stop/building in the middle of the sticks/is that a sheep?

For the record, Bergamo is not Milan, despite what Ryan Air advertises. The flight passed quickly and we made a new Italian friend (insert a standard Italian name here). After being educated on what to do in Milan, we found ourselves in a metro station in Milan (not forgetting the one hour bus ride it took to get us from the “airport” to the city via a tour of the 600 McDonalds in Milan. Apparently, Italian cuisine isn’t pasta and pizza, its anything below those golden arches.)

stay tuned for part deux. "The Metro." or "Victoria and Jo go to Verona" (either one)

2 comments:

Heather Cady said...

Thank you for stooping to speak to the hoardes awaiting your words.

Marianna said...

With bated breath, I eagerly await the continuation of the madcap escapades of two intrepid young adventurers. However, I feel that it is my obligation to point out to you that in the third paragraph you used the word "realising." The word should have been "realizing." Do you realize what you're doing? It's a slippery slope, Victoria. Don't let the Brits pull you over to the Dark Side!