Italiaover
My days of sweating, eating, walking, gazing, sleeping, eating, swimming, pondering, and finally eating again in Italy have come to a mixed-emotional end.
The sad part is in the leaving of this intriguingly beautiful place. The feeling of walking down cobbled Roman streets to find an archaeological gem around every other corner, the ritualistic buying of coffee at a bar, the discovery of a new favourite church, the drinking beer in an intimidatingly harmonious piazza, the sunset panoramic of orange-tiled rooftops, the shared moments, the the the...
And these are just the city things I will miss. I'm constantly amazed at how Italian countryside is able to impress me, a NZer, and this remember is a countryside that has to deal with 60 million Italians! A windy road on a sheer cliff dropping down to the pristine Lake Garda where the kite surfers swarm. A river which surges through the rolling Tuscan hills; the only sign of humans a thirteenth century castle perched on one of the hills. The gold and olive green landscape of grain and olive trees in the Sicilian summer. The sea. The exquisite warm clear depths of the Mediterranean with all its history.
I find that I can't properly exist without being around the sea for more than a few months (weeks?), but now I'm scared that I've become "seaist" - an ocean snob who may not be satisfied with the Pacific any more. Hopefully not.
Enough poeticising Italy. There is a list equally long of things that I won't miss about the country and its inhabitants. Like the list of missable things these are also well known. Things like corruption, Berlusconi, the hand of the Mafia, a potential for closed-minded ignorance, the Catholic church, views towards and the stereotyping of foreigners, superficiality, the public media, the pitiful political left, etc. etc.
By no means have I attempted to summarise Italy here. Only my relatively brief experiences this year. Even Italians can't seem to summarise this complex and contradictory country. Even though there are common threads, everyone has a differing opinion on what is wrong, what should be done, and where the best pizza is (Napoli). To have an opinion and talk about it often is of course a very Italian trait.
I've been having discussions to one such character recently who is typical in this regard. He'll happily go on for hours, jumping from topic to topic sprouting his views on everything from the importance of religious beliefs to the secret unknown history of the tomato. Interesting, and great for my Italian, but after hour number 3 or 4, when I can actually feel my ears getting sore, I need to pull out some sort of escape plan.
There is an energy to italian life. An energy that's addictive, an energy that can make one forget about the problems in italy and the rest of the world and be content with finding superior parmigiano, perfecting the tomato sauce, wearing cool shoes, and going to the sea. While I realise that from my point of view a significant chunk of this energy comes from a novelty factor, I still believe it exists in some form.
It can be nicely reduced to finding the "beauty" in the "good life" and then talking about it.
Even though I have seen a lot of the country, it would not take me long to come up with a list of areas or things I would still love to see. And also a list of places I would definitely want to return to and new friends to see again. I'll be back for sure.
I had an interesting experience on the Air NZ flight from Heathrow to Hong Kong. After we had finished boarding, one of the stewardesses got on the mic and annouced that "today we are lucky because we have some special VIP travellers onboard." One could feel the suspense build up in the cabin as people thought to who it might be.
The stewardesses went on "Please welcome aboard the NZ sheep shearing champions from 3 years ago!" she said with surprisingly genuine enthusiasm. The cabin was filled with an equal proportion of chortles, joke appaluse, and real appaluse from the Hong Kongians who must have believed these guys were real celebreties. It was a real welcome back to NZ moment.
The Sausages of Sicily
I was on the island of Sicily for something like 5-6 weeks in total and in those 5-6 weeks I don't think there past more than 48hrs sans an encounter with sea water. This is of course a very good thing - it was a proper Mediterranean (and a little Ionian) summer!
After being a tourist in and around Palermo which I talked about in the previous post I settled into a crazy little farm in the south. The environment at this place was without a doubt different than other farms I've been on here in Italy. There was always someone coming or going, always some drama of sorts and always someone around to convince to skive off to the beach. The work was definitely towards the relaxed end of the scale with little importance placed on doing things "today" and more emphasis placed on not getting too hot in the sun and preparing food. Sometimes the lunches would drag on (in a generally good way) until the normal Kiwi dinner time.
One good example of how this wasn't your traditional organic wwoofing farm was that one of my jobs was to help organise a Reggae gig with Burro Banton - an old famous reggae god. While I'm not that much into reggae, I didn't think he was that great as a performer. Basically a lot of "yeah man" in his heavy Jamacan accent along with some other noises and grunts. Maybe a bit too much weed before the show methinks...he was smoking in the green room for at least an hour before he was on. Luckily I skipped the clean up after the 600 odd italians that came to that because...
I ran away from this farm with some friends that I made there over a few days leading up to the gig. "Ran away" isn't the right phrase, it's just that I decided to leave rather quickly when hardly anyone was there - everything just fell into place and it was the right moment to go. However it was displeasing to me to have to leave like that and I smoothed things over with notes and later emails.
The four of us went camping in this awesome (up to NZ standards) national reserve in a valley with a river flowing through. Although being a natural reserve camping is entirely prohibited so we had some adventures on the first night when we had to quickly put out our fire and shutup after hearing a ranger's car driving along this ridge road a long way in the distance. It was a really beautiful spot however and in the climate here there are no problems sleeping on a mat under the stars.
After a few nights of roughing it we returned to stay at one of their houses in the biggest city in Sicily, Catania. While my italian friends from the north really liked it, I thought it was just a bigger and crappier version of the cool and gritty Palermo. We walked and ate around the city and did some touristy things. We also took a trip up to Taormina, which although touristy as hell, is really quite a cool little city on the hills overlooking amazing beaches.
I took an overnight boat from Catania to Napoli which, although coming into the port of Napoli with the sun rising was cool, was not the best nights sleep. Here I stayed with a friend of a friend for a few days and didn't do too much really...a few touristy things and he showed me some cool spots more out of the way where the touristy don't go.
And that brings us to the present day where I am sitting in an office overlooking the mountains of the Campania region. I'm at a farm about an hour out of Napoli and everything is going swimingly. This place is one of the better that I have stayed in. Of course there are issues but it generally has a good mix of work, fun, environment etc.
it’s blue blue blue
After having a nice culture break in London (mmm spicy foods) and seeing lots of friends (mmm talking slang), I returned back to good old Italy, to Sicily to be exact. The “other Italy.”
It really is quite different Sicily. I think the difference was intensified for me as well because I was really missing Italy and its cities after being in relatively dreary London for a few weeks. However, my first port of call was Palermo...a city which more resembles India in some parts than the Italy I was missing.
Coincidentally I stayed with a friend I had met in India while travelling there last year. He has an apartment above an infamously chaotic market. So that location, combined with the crazy heat of the south and the odd sighting of dogs lying on the street, and I was taken back to my days of wandering the dusty markets of small Indian cities.
The cafe I had breakfast at during my stay there was classic. It had obviously been there for many many years given the state of the place. As we walked in, the man behind the bar (must be the owner) showed a faint expression of recognition to my friend who goes there every morning and grunted something in Sicilian which I guessed meant “the usual?” After a nod from my friend and a few minutes we had coffee and pastries. This cafe was truly unlike any I had been in before in Italy. It was the first time I have hesitated to check if the spoon was clean. However, from that surreally crappy (or maybe I should say authentic) place came the best damn coffee I have tasted in Italy – and that is really saying something.
The roads around this area of the city are very old and very decaying. The same applies to the buildings and one actually finds completely destroyed buildings that have been left there for years and which in other Italian cities would probably be restored tourist sites. Of course not all of Palermo is like this, however in general one gets the feeling that the history of the city is still very much alive and all around oneself.
I was fortunate enough to go with my friend and his friends TO THE SEA. I write it like that because here the sea holds some sort of crazy fascination for Italians. Definitely more so than in NZ. In many towns the most clearly signposted thing is the direction to the sea and people talk about going to the sea as a complete thing, an almost magical destination. I guess in NZ we have such relatively easy access to the sea that it’s more a normal part of life. So we went to Scopello which is known as one of the best spots on the Sicilian coast and spent 3 days swimming, fishing and boating around the coast...fantastico. The sea is just so warm and clear. To use diving speak, the viz was bottomless.
Now I have made my way to the farm I’m staying on right in the south of Sicily near the coast. All is going well so far...a good mix of interesting people here. I just need to get used to the heat, the flies and the mosquitoes.
woods.
I was witness recently to a middle-aged couple; together after each of their respective broken marriages. But that is not the interesting point about these two, nor would it be these days.
The interesting facet comes from the fact that the woman is Italian and the man is German. She speaks a little German and he speaks 2-week-tourist Italian. English is their only real common language. The interesting point is that neither of them speaks English that fluently.
Surely it must get annoying and be unsatisfying to not be able to convey to your partner exactly what you intend to say/think with the clarity of meaning only provided by a massive vocabulary and complex sentence structures – i.e. a mother tongue or very fluent tongue at least. How can they live like this I ask!?
I know personally the inner torment of desperately wanting to say the words that perfectly encapsulate ones thoughts but one just can’t find them in the foreign tongue. Often the compromise is a watered down version lacking the full intention and meaning.
Anyway, the answer to my question it seems is “just fine thank you.” This is what I can see after one week of exposure at least. They get along and survive OK. They have been together for over a year as well, although don’t live together in the same country.
It seems that because neither of them are native English speakers all of the little mistakes they both make in their speaking wouldn’t be so glaringly obvious or irritating. I’m referring to mistakes like omitting “does” in sentences like “where does this go?”…and other classic non-native-speaker mistakes.
There are also the more subtle aspects such as intonation. I noticed that the Italian woman would say some things in an “Italian way” which come across a little rude in English, to a native speaker at least. Again, these things are probably not noticed either.
So in a way they have probably formed their own English-like language complete with their own slightly skewed word meanings and subtle intonations.
Maybe some people don’t require a native tongue connection to have a meaningful relationship. Maybe I’m putting too many of my own expectations into this.
Or maybe it helps their relationship in some ways. Being forced to reconstruct thoughts from complex and often slang-filled language into cleaner and simpler language can be a very beneficial process. I have noticed this through learning Italian. It forces one to actually think more about the meaning of what they’re saying. For example, I can’t hide behind words such as “cool” – I actually have to use an adjective that describes what I actually mean. Either that or I just use bello.
This type of issue must occur in a lot of modern day relationships, with the increasingly smaller world etc. Especially with English as it tends to be the common language in inter-country connections of all sorts.
Random update – Wwoofing
ciao a tutti...
A long time indeed this time since the last post. In short: I'm still alive, still in Italy, still travelling around mixing it up between working on farms and being a tourist. Still having a bloody good time, in sum.
I have just written for an email to someone pretty much what I want to write here but in Italian so that's no good. This can just be a brief re-cap and I will think of something specific and interesting to write about soon.
After leaving the place in Piacenza that I think I mentioned in my last post, I went to another farm just outside of Bologna. The best word to describe this place is INTENSE...yes all in caps like that. I, as the volunteer, became part of this young family, and that meant working like one of them. Although the work was long and sometimes damn hard I had some awesome experiences along the way. It was just a little hard at moments to stay positive about the whole thing. To illustrate what I'm talking about I will retell the story of a semi-typical day...(names changed)...
As I sleepily and coffee-lackingly stroll in the early morning air from my room to where we have breakfast in the morning I hear a voice calling to me from a window above. "What's that?" I say. "You still want me to feed the animals before we leave?" "Yes Simon, just quickly, then we pack the truck, wait the phone!" replies Magda, the mother and boss of the place. "Yes of course" I half reply, and wander off to give the animals their lot. The sheep are barring already.
After the truck is quickly filled with the essential tools for our work we head off to the fields in which live the cherry trees. Today is the day of pruning, branch bundling and other exciting things like that. The day plays out well and the work, although occasionally becoming menotonous, is interesting, not to speak of the beauty of the work place. One thing is for sure, by the time 5pm rolls round I'm ready for shower, beer, rest etc.
My mind playfully brings up images of these days-end luxuories as we drive home. As we pull into the parking area Magda changes the topic. "OK now Simon, just a few things. We need to cut the grass out front, rake up some things over there...and then just check on the animals please." BAHGHRGHHHH! "But the work day is over!" I can't help thinking.
By the time these "few things" are out of the way its after 7 and the stomach engine is revving beyond the red line. Tonight though, dinner isn't simply there on the table. We're having a BBQ. And I have to, along with Davide their 5 year old son, prepare the fire (proper BBQ, not gas). This would normally be from the outset a cool thing to do, naturally, but after the day of work and more work I have to stretch to find pieces of enthusiasm. The thing with Davide as well is that he loves to control situations around the house. He loves to impart his 5 year old knowledge. Generally this is cute and interesting to be involved in, but tonight, no. "No, no more wood! Those must burn first!" he states firmly after giving me a rundown on fire safety. "OK, OK, let's wait a bit longer." I concede, anxious to get this bloody fire cranking fast.
Eventually, much patience later, we have some BBQ-ready embers and the meat is sizzling. In the meantime Davide and I have constructed a bench on which we can sit and stoke the fire. A good bonding time which made me glad I made the effort to find the necessary patience and enthusiasm. I ate, drunk awesome wine from our cellar, and slept. The end.
This little story pretty well illustrates how things went down at this place. Many cool experiences like being involved in markets and fairs, learning lots about many things from farming to life, cooking/baking italian stuff, meeting many people etc. that came out of being a part of this intense young family. Bologna is a very cool little city as well.
Allora, next stop for me was being a tourist proper again, this time in Florence. Florence, the city which is basically one big open air museum. In the historic centre at least it is like this. Literally at times there would have been only 1 Italian out of every 10 people on the street. It's even harder to find an actual Florintine. I was convinced they didn't actually exist until I met one girl one night whos distant relatives used to be cooks for the Medici family. And she didn't even look italian.
After the shock of all the tourists abated a bit, and with the guidance of an italian who lives there and could point out the "cool" places, I appreciated the city a lot more than just for Michangelo's David and the Uffizi.
Currently I'm at another "farm" close to Siena in Tuscany. I use parenthesis around the word farm because it is more of an agrotourism with large vegetable gardens and fruit trees. It's a very peaceful place and set in some classic tuscan scenery. The work isn't very intense and the people are awesome, so it suits me perfectly at the moment. I actually have time to study italian properly and write other stuff. It's great.
ciao
le lingue sono difficile da imparare!
Learning another language has made me appreciate how absolutely fundamental and critical languages are to life; all aspects of life - from mundane day-to-day life to the poetic idea of essential existence. Language is the substance of our thoughts, the interpreter of our actions, the light for our cultures and the glue that allows us to connect as people. Serious business is that language. I hope that by now I have used enough big words to convince you just how important language is; now we can proceed…
Seriously though, language is key. It allows us to communicate and hence to define people and their cultures. The Italian language, or more specifically how Italians speak it, is an interesting one. The Italian culture is reflected in the language as one would expect. A note is required here…I don’t want to make this a grandiose analytical discourse on Italian culture etc. I can only talk about what I have witnessed with Italians in shops and other such places, Italian friends and also through the family I’m staying with at the moment. Also the usual limitations of stereotypes obviously apply here. And finally, I realise I’m mixing in analysis of Italian culture and not really linking it back to my main topic of language…meh, it’s a blog post not an essay. OK, now that we’ve cleared that up…
Firstly, communication tends to be more direct. People are able to maintain relatively calm and reasoned conversations on topics which would have people from British/NZ/Aussie cultures red-faced and sweaty. For example, I witnessed two people arguing in a line at the post office (lines, lines everywhere). A woman confronted a man in a very direct way about pushing in front of her. He calmly explained that he had a special request and wouldn’t take long (I’m fairly sure – something like that anyway). The woman retorted with the benefits of lines for the greater good and the man restated his own personal wants. The interaction went on like this for literally 2-3 minutes without either person becoming flustered or appearing embarrassed in front of the 50-60 other people in the room who could hear (Italians speak loud). It ended with the man walking out looking a bit dejected and annoyed but definitely not embarrassed. I thought to myself at the time that this scenario would be so improbable in NZ; that two people with the necessary qualities would happen to be in the same place at the same time.
Further examples are the dinner table conversations we have sometimes, or more appropriately stated, that I witness. Relatively sensitive topics are aired and discussed in a matter-of-fact and open way without expressed embarrassment or awkwardness. This type of thing happens, in my opinion, more than in a typical NZ household. The Italian language reflects this directness I believe. I don’t know enough about the language to explain this properly. It’s just a feeling at the moment. I can however throw in a few cutesy examples in a vein attempt to prove my hypothesis! Number one…the way of answering the phone in Italian is “Pronto” which means “I’m ready” - fairly direct no? Number two…a very common method of beginning a conversation or getting someone’s attention is to use an imperative form of the verb sentire or the verb ascoltare, which both mean to listen (among other things). For example, “Senti, hai qualcosa…” which means literally “Listen [you], do you have something…” or the more direct “Ascolta bene…” meaning “Listen well…”
Second, in Italy everything must be weighed and compared, and of course judged on beauty. You wouldn’t be too far wrong if you said life is one big beauty contest. Appearances are valued very highly indeed. Of course the concept of beauty is far more wide reaching in the Italian language than in English. While in English one only uses beautiful to describe objects and people of exception, it is a fairly general word for “good” in Italian. There is also the factor that Italians tend to find more beauty as they tend to be always looking for it and judging things. In Italy, you must have opinions on everything, especially food. Do you like this? How do you find that? Buono? Was it bella? Some very important questions right there. Not many dinner table conversations pass without at least one significant debate about the goodness or quality of a certain food or beverage. And in keeping with the paragraphs above, one does not need to hesitate to call out a particular dish as too salty, too dry or just straight up not as good as something else. Offence is generally not taken and in fact this type of openness (on food at least) seems to be highly valued.
Third, hand gestures. It would be hard to talk about the Italian language without mentioning hand gestures. They are of course everywhere, as I think most people know from the hand-waving, pizza-cooking, mamma mia-saying Italian stereotype. I have discovered they are actually essential to communicate here. I’m fairly sure people understand me better when I use them. It also just feels better to use them. There is something about the fluidity and rhythmic nature of the Italian language that lends itself perfectly to hand gestures. I find they can help me get into the ‘Italian mode’ where I pronounce things better, remember words easier and generally act more, well, Italian. I guess it’s the whole associating somatic movements with mental images/words thing.
Although sadly, learning Italian has actually made me realise how little I know about English, beyond how to speak and write it. That is, grammatically speaking, I know very little. For example, when trying to explain how to deal with countable and uncountable things in English to an Italian learning the language, I could only give examples. I had no rules, no reason for my seemingly random (to her at least) use of “some” or “a lot of” etc. I don’t remember learning grammar at school and I’m not sure if we did learn much at all – it’s a shame. However, after getting into Italian and being forced into the sometimes ugly world of grammar I now intimately know the meaning of a lot more grammatical terms and hence I am able to explain sometimes why a construction must be a certain way. Still though, it has been a significant entry barrier for me.
While we’re on the language analytic tip, I’ll bring in how we learn languages and how we know what constitutes proper language and what doesn’t – without having to bust out the grammar book every conversation. I know for me at least that I only know by example – from what I have heard in, and remembered from, the past – from year 0 onwards probably. Sentence constructions either sound right or sound wrong, or sometimes, more correct or less clumsy. And without the grammatical knowledge I talked about above, one has no way to explain why one construction is correct and another wrong. One can only give examples. This is of course fine for speaking and writing in your native language, but a problem when trying to learn another language or explain your native one. Kids are lucky, they can learn through many years of constant exposure to correct language. They have enough exposure to be able to build complex patterns of correct sentence constructions in their mind/memory – even without ever knowing why what’s right is right. Adults learning another language however can’t rely solely on this level and quality of exposure (unless they have 5-10 years up their sleeves and an ideal learning environment I guess) and hence must rely significantly on learning through the rules, the grammar, of the language. Of course exposure is also needed. Living day-by-day with Italian seems to be the only way to truly learn, for me at least. Constant exposure and reinforcement - like the babies get. I have had to become a 1 year old and group up over again.
So where am I up to? Myself, at the moment, I find that a lot of the time responding to native speakers when they’re speaking to me at full speed is like batting in a cricket match against a professional pace bowler. This is actually a good analogy for language learning. At first you can’t even see (think hear) most of the balls bowled at you. Then, after time, you start to recognise patterns and start to see enough of the bowls to hit some back. Of course you start by making simple blocks of the important bowls going for your wickets – think key questions that you have to answer and can answer with yes, no, ok, please etc. Then you progress to making small strokes, or more complex responses, such as “yes I would like to come, shall I bring my camera?” And then there are the more difficult strokes/responses. Boundaries, however, are still a long way off…they are the Holy Grail…the witty, clever, think-on-your-feet, must-be-fairly-fluent type of responses. I’m making small strokes where I can at the moment, still waiting for that four or six.
All roads lead to…
Rome! I'm not so sure this saying is accurate nowadays, although judging by the sheer number and quality of treasures within, it must have been true in the history of this great city.
When I arrived in Rome and found my way from the airport to the central city, with several rather abrupt lessons in the importance of Italian pronunciation on the way, my first destination was a couchsurfer's house (apartment - a house in Roma?). I was to stay here for a few nights until my apartment, organised through the language school, was ready. The meeting of this local Roman (I still find it funny it refer to modern day Rome locals as Romans) proved very very fortunate for me and was the starting point for some awesome experiences in Rome I simply wouldn't even think of without knowing locals.
So I had a first few days of nightclubs (discoteca!) and cool local haunts. I didn't really do anything touristy in the first 5 or so days which was nice. I did get in a few walks around the old centre, which, me not being used to seeing such grandiose and ancient things everywhere (growing up in NZ...), completely blew me away. When I moved into my apartment on the Sunday, I had all of the following week free (before starting language school) to see sights all day long...
Among all the museums, exhibitions, notable buildings, squares, fountains, streets, shops and random amazing little things around each and every corner, a few things stood out...
The museums and the Michelangelo-designed piazza on the Capitoline Hill (il Campidoglio or Monte Capitolino) was definitely an area that stood out. There is something magical about the place which is difficult to put in words. I think it has just the right amount of elevation above the city and the buildings and the piazza are simply perfectly designed. However the relatively modern, and relatively grotesque and oversized, Monumento a Vittorio Emanuelle II in Piazza Venezia nearby does almost ruin the site. I don't actually have a normal image of the piazza online for some reason but here's one of something on its edge...
Just through the amazing Roman Forum ruins lies the foot of the Palatine Hill. A little higher than the Capitolino, this hill was another very important area in the history of the city and holds ruins dating back to around 1000 BC. Quite a few of the ruins that are visible today date back to the Republican period (510 BC – 44 BC) when many affluent Romans had their residences. Like the Capitolino, this is another magical place. The day I visited the sun was out, the sky was a crisp blue and the impressive 'hanging pines' were casting shadows over the ancient stone work - completing the idyllic Roman ruin scene...
Next up is a little known place (well, for most tourists that is) called the Giardino degli Aranci (Garden of Oranges). It basically is a garden with orange trees on top of a hill (notice the high places theme so far?) with a cool lookout over Rome. There's a church nearby and it's all very nice. I went there a handful of times I think. It was actually a place in Rome where one couldn't hear (much) traffic and other city sounds.
Another high place! The dome of St Peter's church! Really amazing...2m high lettering and such intricate painting that makes the long walk up the stairs so worth it. And while we're at San Pietro, it would be a sin not to mention the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican Museums. I was painting the roof of a bedroom the other day (story for another blog post) and got a feeling for what Michelangelo must have gone through while making frescos on that roof with poor light and an impatient Pope. Even though the chapel is nearly always crowded with tourists and ushers going "ssshhhhhhh!", I still found it hard to pull my eyes away from the paintings/walls. Especially the Last Judgement painted by Michelangelo from 1535-1541. Wow.
Something not involving heights or fine art that stood out for me was a 'megafiesta' (Italians love their superlatives) or carnival party in a small town outside of Roma - I forget the name but it took about 45min to drive there. I was there with friends whom I had met through the CS experience I spoke of earlier when I first came to Rome, so it was definitely one of those 'difficult to even know about without being a local' type thing. The event was basically a lot of people strewn through the main street and side streets of this town, with streamers and masks and food everywhere. Not to mention about 7 different live music acts from tribal drumming to ska bands to typical Italian folk stuff. Even though I wasn't feeling quite up to partying while there (tired and stuff) it was awesome and a unique insight into these types of events in Italy. Another thing I came across through CS contacts was the opportunity to be an extra in a small indy film. I was a bodyguard...although I'm not sure they had the luxury of casting decisions hehe.
Probably my most significant experience in Rome, in terms of time at least, was the language school I went to for 4 weeks, for 4 hours a day. In short, it was really cool - good teacher, great atmosphere, cool people from around the world etc. I think I'll make another 'learning italiano' style blog post soon so talk about the school more then...
So in general I really liked Rome. I wouldn't go so far to use love, but it really was the most interesting city I have been in thus far. So many things to see, taste, hear, touch...and there always seemed to be something happening somewhere. Rome however, is freaken massive. Not so much in geographical size maybe compared to other super cities, but definitely in the shear number of structures and stuff in general. After five weeks I was just starting to understand the city a bit - and I'm not talking about the entire city, I'm talking about the centre and a few of its key offshoots. By understand I mean getting to know what is where, where is good to eat/drink, interesting places to visit regularly etc. I think I made about 7% progress on this journey in my 5 weeks there.
Ciao for now...
South America roundup
Allora...it's been a long time without blogging goodness. I thought before continuing I should quickly round up my travels in South America - especially Bolivia and Argentina.
Bolivia really for me, in the major part, beyond the interesting sights of La Paz and the mountain biking of the last post, was all about the salt flats - the salar - of the south. Pretty much all of southern Bolivia is desert spotted with salar (plural?), lakes and amazing mountains.
I took a 3/4 day 4WD tour of the salar, staying in random crappy places in the middle of nowhere along the way. It really is the best way to take in the immensity of the place - immensity both in terms of geographical size and also in terms of natural beauty. And it really is bella. Driving along one sees massive mountains cropping up everywhere; with green, white or red lakes scattered in the lowlands. Words can't come close, and photos don't really do it justice either, but check out my pics in this flickr set to see for yourself.
Crossing the border from Bolivia into Argentina was a nightmare...but also a fun over-tired journey with three aussie girls...so swings and roundabouts and all that. From Bolivia into Argentina was like travelling from night to day. The smells, the taxis, the people, the food...nearly everything different, and generally for the better! Well, at least better for me in my current state of mind. I was a bit sick of the relatively rough life in Peru and Bolivia and craving the touches of Europe which give Argentina its distinctiveness. Of course there are many many things more Argentinian grown as well...e.g. STEAK. So, so good. All the stories are true (if you're smart and find the right places to eat and the right ways to order). And then the local WINES. Right up there with the steak. Mmm.
After staying in a couple of smaller cities and living the argentinian good life for awhile I headed to the capital, Buenos Aires. I was fortunate enough to stay with a couchsurfer for the entire time I was there which was awesome. I met locals, found the best places to eat/drink/pub crawl etc. It was wicked auu. I spent about 2 weeks in BA doing the touristy things, partying, finding good steak and also getting a bit sick of only finding steak, pasta etc. Spice was lacking for real. I really loved the place. It has a really cool feeling, or vibe if you'll let me use that word. For such a cool city I haven't really got many photos...not sure why, I just wasn't very often in a photo taking mood whilst I was there. The few I have are here.
So that's all I can muster for south america...now for italy when I find more time. In short though, italy has been fairly awesome so far. I have been in Rome for 5 weeks now, and will be leaving this monday to travel up north to stay/work/live on a farm in the Marche region. And then after 15 days, move to another farm with the same family (they own both), in the Emilia-Romagna region - near Piacenza and Parma. It's organised through the Willing Workers On Organic Farms (WWOOF) programme and will be a great opportunity for me to live the traditional italian country lifestyle and get my language skills up to scratch.
Ciao a tutti