Barcelona, Spain: Adventures with Gaudi

Andrea, Leonardo and I have all been to Park Guell and La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, Spain.
For Andrea, he traveled to Barcelona by ship on a journey that stopped in Malta, Tunisia, Palma De Mallorca, Palermo and Genova. He went with his grandparents and sister, spending 3 days in the city. At Park Guell, he walked around for 2 hours and played soccer with locals. Some locals spoke Italian and some spoke Spanish, but those that spoke Spanish talked too fast and made it hard for him to understand. Afterward, Andrea and his family rested and enjoyed snacks. He also saw a mime performing which interested him. He was nice enough to give the performer some money. At La Sagrada Familia, Andrea could not go inside because of the construction. The church continues to be worked on, even after Gaudi's death. He was still happy to take pictures outside.
When Leonardo went to Barcelona, he flew with his parents, brother and sister over Easter break last year. He stayed for one week in a hotel and visited Park Guell one morning. He explored the park with his family and walked all over. He saw a musician playing at the very bottom of the park, near the steps by the fountain. The music echoed and sounded very good. He played an unusual string instrument. He also saw lots of squirrels running around. Leonardo bought souvineers with his family. They have a tradition where they buy a magnet at every country they visit. He got one from Park Guell. Leonardo also went to La Sagrada Familia with his family and they were able to go inside but it wasn't too special because of all of the work still being done. He did get to go to the Gaudi museum and learn all about his life. He learned how La Sagrada Familia was built. Leonardo reminds me how Gaudi died. He was hit by some form of transportation on the street and people mistook him for a homeless person because he had grown a long beard and was very dirty from working all day on the church where he basically lived. He arrived at the hospital only to be identified as THE Gaudi.
My personal experience with Gaudi architecture in Barcelona was both similar and different to that of the Italian students. At Park Guell, I too witnessed musicians playing near the fountain and other people performing their various talents. I climbed to the top with my friends who were studying in the city and took a lot of pictures of the 360 views. My friends and I also fed some stray cats we met, along with large green birds. We sat and ate lunch with our animal friends while listening to the music play as we relaxed in the newfound sun. Earlier that morning, we too had visited La Sagrada Familia but did not have time to visit Gaudi's museum. At the church, we took more pictures and learned about the different styles Gaudi used on each wall. We laughed at the elaborate fruits on the towers that seemed so out of place and longed to go inside, but the line to enter would've taken about 4 hours. My time in Barcelona was followed by a trip to Seville and Granada, where we traveled by train and plane.
All three of us vividly remember the beautiful mosaic benches at Park Guell the most. We enjoyed listening to the music and admire Gaudi's skill and talent, seen at La Sagrada Familia and in his famous park. Although Andrea, Leonardo and I come from different places, we all still appreciate the city of Barcelona and will always share that common experience.

The End...

Last night, my 4 friends and I were exchanging photos. Pictures print in a much higher quality when they are transferred directly from a memory stick rather than by e-mail or Facebook. We gathered in a circle in my friend's room, passing laptops periodically one person to the right. As we made our individual folders for the pictures we wanted, we took a long look back on the past 3 months. All that we've done, all that we've seen and all that we'll take back home with us. These four people I had never met before 3 months ago started out as mere aquaintances. Now I can't imagine a day going by without seeing them. But I guess that's the sacrifice of studying abroad. You're basically thrown into this situation where you're forced to make friends as fast as you can to start planning your first travel break. Before you know it, those friends have become your family. My time in Italy has been so much more than a mixture of different cities and classes. It is a collection of memories, growth and people I can rely on, not only in my hometown or college town but all over the United States. I will return to America with a close friend in every time zone. I will return with the experience from different cultures found in: Spain, Holland, Italy, Hungary, Germany, Austria, Czech Republic and Greece. Three months...8 countries in three months. I feel lucky beyond words that I have had this opportunity and know that I will return home with an evergrowing curiosity about the world. I hope that future "CIMBites" will take advantage of the opportunities they are given here and do everything in their power to live every moment to the fullest. Do nothing to risk losing this privelidge. Some of my peers lack this knowledge and I hope, for their sake, that they have learned SOMETHING from their time here. I'm lucky to have found the friends I did in Italy and look forward to building future relationships with them back in the United States. This is not the end, for Italy and I. I will return someday. It will always feel like another place I can call home.

The St. Patty's Day to Remember

Among the many sites and cities I visited over the second travel week, from Budapest to Vienna to Prague to Salzburg, one of the memories I had no choice but to bring back with me, was St. Patrick's Day. After enjoying the beautiful city's castle, bridge and clock tower we went back to our hostel, had a rest and prepared to go out to an Irish Pub around the corner. After a few Irish drinks to get us in the spirit, my friends and I departed to a nearby club that was recommended to us.
In the dimly lit streets of Prague, I linked arms with my friend Molly and we strolled down the block with our hands in the pockets of our jackets. Before we could move, Molly tripped over the curb and flew me downward toward the concrete with her. She came up with a scrape on her chin and cheek as well as a bruise on her eyelid. I, however, was not so lucky.
I emerged from the concrete covered from head to toe in blood, not too sure what had happened. At first I was positive I had broken a tooth, but soon we eliminated that option as I flashed a her a big smile to be sure. Because I didn't have enough time to catch my fall as my hands were occupied, I landed right on my mouth where my tooth dug into my lip and I bit a chunk of the inside of my upper lip off. The blood continued to seep into the concrete below and crowds gathered but did nothing to help. All we could do was laugh, which only split my lip even more, but in those situations, really, what else can you do??
Molly quickly searched inside my purse for something, anything to help clean up the blood and took out the "piece of paper" from my purse to clean it up. That so-called piece of paper turned out to be our train tickets to Salzburg, our next destination, which had instantly been transformed into red tickets. It was an experience, to say the least, when we had to hand those tickets to the conductor of the train. He didn't really know how to react but seemed to be skeptically amused.
We had to move into the club, who obviously led us straight to their bathroom as my friends helped clean me up and I tried to calm down a hysterically crying Molly quite upset with guilt.
In the end, I returned to Paderno del Grappa not with souvineers, but with a slightly deformed lip on the outside and inside, bruised face and one heck of a story. Watch out for those Prague curbs...they'll get you.

The Roman Experience

Rome is a city I never knew much about, besides what I'd seen in magazines, movies and the Travel Channel. I had always been told it was a city of great history but I never fully realized the extent of that until I went there this weekend. The first thing I couldn't get over was how big everything was. The city itself you could walk around for days without a moment of boredom. Some parts were obviously more appealing then others, but my travel group mainly stuck to the tourist areas. We must have stood out like a sore thumb in some places now that I reflect. Taking 10 minutes to figure out how to purchase a train ticket, moving people aside to take pictures of passing monuments, and using our barely-there Italian to ask for directions...the list continues. I boarded the flight back to Venice with not one regret. I saw everything I wanted to, from the Roman Forum to Trevi Fountain, I'd call it a successful vacation. What impacted me the most was my experience at the Colloseum. Being told that only 8% of gladiators survived and then stepping into that same arena was mind blowing. It wasn't creepy like I expected but eye opening to how much society has changed today. Was I standing on the same ground as a man who was awaiting his death moments later? It was an indescribable feeling, but I really enjoyed the experience. Not to mention the shape the architecture is in today. I felt the same way when we saw the Sistene Chapel. Did these artists know that their work would be as incredible today as it was back then? Did they even think it would still exist? These are all questions I still left with unanswered but it was inspiring to see the magnitude of such works. I wonder where the motivation to do something so grand stems from.

The Flying Experience

After finishing a memorable short weekend in Amsterdam, I have returned with a newfound frustration and confusion for flying. Friday night we were able to take off from Venice Maro Polo on time before we had an hour layover in Munich. The flight went smoothly and we ventured throughout the airport laughing at the German words we picked out of the advertisements we passed and trying to find our gate. We stood in awe at the sight of free coffee machines, which we were in desperate need of if we were to meet our other friends in Amsterdam for a bar crawl in a few hours. Once at the gate, we realized there weren't any people around and shortly after we heard the worker announce "Last call for Lufthansa flight to Amsterdam." We sprinted toward her, giggling about almost missing our flight, although it was leaving very early. She quickly scanned our boarding passes and we walked down flights of stairs, hopped on a bus that was waiting, and finally arrived at the plane...which was not the one that matched our tickets. With the excitement built up for Amsterdam and partial delirium from lack of sleep, we boarded the plane trying not to look suspicious, and eventually took off. We did land in Amsterdam. We did get on the wrong flight. But most importantly, we didn't get caught. There was no one in our assigned seats, so we just went with it, and it all turned out okay...thank goodness!
Our flight leaving Amsterdam was a whole different experience. The plane was an hour late due to the storm that was brewing, and we were unaware of its magnitude at the time. We watched on CNN at our gate about the recent disastrous news regarding the earthquake in Chile and tsunami alerts in Japan. Was the legend of 2012 arriving a bit early? The flight to Frankfurt, the city of our layover, was a scary one with panicked stewardesses and pilots and drops that made us feel like we were on a rollercoaster...a potentially fatal one. Once at Frankfurt, 120 flight connections had been cancelled, including ours to Venice. All trains shut down due to weather alerts until morning. Any bus, cab or car would still make us late for our 8am classes and cost a fortune. News poured in about 45 people in France that had died because of floods or fallen trees. A boy in Portugal had just been killed because of powerful winds moving heavy objects. But we had to fly. After waiting nearly 3 hours to talk to our airline, we witnessed fights between Europeans and young Americans as our knees grew numb and patience faded. We finally got a flight out to Venice at 9:30pm which, as expected, ended up being delayed until midnight. However it did arrive and we were able to take off. By that time, there was no need to be scared of the flight ahead. We just wanted to get home. And we did, after a 150 euro cab ride later. Travelling is something I love, but getting there is a whole other story. This feels like one of the longest weekends of my life!

The Spanish Extravaganza

First travel week--done! It flew by so fast it's hard to believe I'm already planning for my next travel break. Overall, a part of me wishes I had studied in Spain. I loved it so much. Every person I met had their own story and smile, every city had a completely unique culture and history. The overall energy was so vibrant and positive, not that Paderno del Grappa isn't, but it's so much more low key and extremely small. I have to admit, being back and walking into my single room only to collapse on my bed in utter silence was a blessing in itself. Travelling with girls is one thing, travelling with eight is a whole other story. I have a newfound respect for showering whenever I feel like it and using a mirror without being elbowed by 3 other people. Barcelona was much bigger than I expected and I had so much fun going out at night, visiting the Gaudi church and park, and going to the Picasso museum. Every minute was action packed. Seville I felt the greatest connection with, it reminded me a lot of Venice based on its size and architecture. We were able to go on a guided tour, visit the alcazar, journey to a Flamenco wherehouse and spend time at our first Spanish club with some people we met at the hostel. Granada was very wet and foggy, but well worth our time, if only for one night. We spent a lot of time in the Moroccan shops where I bought a tapestry and star light. Our hostel took us on a tapas bar crawl where my friend and I met more locals and bonded with their adorable pooch, Carnello. Our final day we explored the majority of the Alhambra, all the while hiding from the pouring rain. The journey back was long and tedious but I wouldn't trade my first time in Spain for anything.

The Carnivale

It wasn’t just about the canals and gondolas, glass blowing or bridges. Carnivale was about magic and mystery filled with masks and costumes. But above all, the thing that stuck out to me the most during my time in Venice was the sense of fun that every individual seemed to harbor. Whether old or young, each townsperson, tourist or student was dressed to the nines to partake in the yearly celebration. For my first trip to Venice, I sure picked a great time to go. At one point my travel group and I decided to sit down for lunch outside on Sunday when the sun was shining brightly and the spirit of Carnivale was in full force. We sat in silence after eating, just watching our surroundings and taking in the views we would soon be leaving behind. Elderly couples with coordinated outfits danced beside a violinist who played a soft song as people in the plaza gathered to listen. Smiles from ear to ear covered the crowd’s faces, or at least the parts of their faces I could see when not being hidden by an eloquent mask. I truly loved every part of Venice, but all of this was made possible because of the energy I felt from the people. The excitement and positivity that filled the air gave me no choice but to have a great time, as I did. I only wish I had more time in the sinking city, which I hope to revisit after the CIMBA program ends.

The First Snow

As I sprinted down the four flights of stairs, late to meet my friends in the library for tedious travel planning, I came to a dead stop. Laptop in hand, I quickly tucked it into my jacket in order to prevent the soft white flakes from doing any harm. Although I am from the University of Oregon, I was born and raised in sunny California, where the slightest hint of white powder brought on nothing but excitement. The occasional trips to Lake Tahoe were incomparable to what I witnessed that Friday night. Not a person in sight, I took my first step, slowly sinking into the ground until my foot hit the concrete. My Paderno peers have made it very clear that my love for snow is a result of temporary insanity. Unlike me, they have felt the wrath of cold winter growing up in states including New York, Wisconsin and Iowa. For me, snow is such a rareity and I can't help but be happy beyond belief when I see it. Walking in it made life in Paderno a bit trickier as the town does not put in any effort to clear off sideways, but I was perfectly content with sliding down icy paths to class instead of simply walking. Snow in Italy...I can think of nothing better. Until next time.

The First Entry

As someone who has never had a blog before and rarely written in journals, I find this new opportunity quite fitting with the other new experiences I have faced thus far while studying abroad in the small, but amazingly beautiful, Paderno del Grappa, Italy. At first glance of the town, which I was able to tour in a total of 15 minutes, I felt slightly claustrophobic. However as I am reaching the end of my tenth day, I honestly believe that as time progresses Paderno will easily become I place I call home. With each breathtaking look out my window, I grow more and more grateful. It almost seems unfair that someone at a mere age of 20 could be so blessed with waking up to magnificent mountains towering over open fields that stretch on for miles. I look forward to whatever awaits in this three month period and will strive to take on each adventure to cross my path. Italy has been at the top of my travel list since the beginning of high school. Now that I've finally made it here and the surreal feeling is starting to fade, I can't wait to see what comes next.