In the first novel that I read on this trip, Rare Birds by Edward Riche (thanks to Steph and Mike for this recommendation), "twitchers" are set apart from regular bird watchers. From my VERY limited understanding of bird-watching, a twitcher's goal is very specifically to see as many species of birds as possible. They will travel far distances in order to catch a glimpse of the rarest of species; once found, the bird gets checked off of a list, and the twitcher moves onto the next species.
Now, I am sure that many twitcher/bird-watcher hybrids exist, individuals who love to check new species off of their lists in addition to gazing at their favourite birds for hours on end, though they have already been sighted many times. However, I was thinking about the purist twitcher, and it seemed a good analogy for a spirit that I do NOT want to cultivate in my travels. With the notion of "living in Europe for 3 months", rather than being on vacation, I want to get to truly get to know know the places and people where I am staying, and get to know myself in the process. This trip is not about checking off countries, cities, museums, or even gorgeous coastlines off on a list. I remind myself of this on the days where I feel some kind of pressure to "see everything", to move on from one place quickly so that I can get to the next city, the next gallery, the next monument. Just like the bird watcher content to watch her favourite species soar again and again, this is how I wish to travel.
In the spirit of "living in Europe", I bought sushi yesterday for dinner (one does not need to eat only pizza and gelato while in Italy), after going to see the Accademia Gallery. Now, eating sushi in Florence is not terribly touristy of me, but the Accademia Gallery just might be the most touristy thing to do in the city, as this is where Michelangelo's David is to be found. Touristy or not, what a glorious sight this was, in a room built specifically for this statue, standing 3m high (I didn't realize that the statue was so large). I reserved a ticket in advance for this, so as to not stand in the 2 1/2 hour line. I also laughed to myself at the fact that the gallery really cleared out after David, as many people go just to see this one statue. I enjoyed walking around the second floor as well, mostly 13th century sacred art, suddenly very quiet and peaceful...
...(I think the twitchers had left)...
After climbing to the top of the Campanile (a mere 414 steps) for an incredible view over the city and surrounding Tuscan countryside, I watched a beautiful sunset over the city, from Piazza di Michelangelo, and enjoyed a quiet evening at the hostel.
I am off to see more art.
With love
xo
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Juliet's breast...
Greetings from Florence!
Before I begin, I will share a few photos from breathtaking Venice...
Before I left home, a dear mentor of mine (the same lady who introduced me to Frida Kahlo) suggested that I write letters to myself, that I would receive while weekly while I was travelling. She remarked that it would be fun to literally mail them, except that I wouldn't know in advance where I was going to be. I came up with the idea of sending them via "e-card"; that way, I could specify exactly what date they would appear in my inbox. And so, every Tuesday, I receive a little note, written from past-Liz to present day-Liz, a very deliberate way of taking care of myself, reminding myself of my vision for this trip, and tuning into a very core part of me.
After the excitement, intensity, and beauty of Venice, Verona felt nice, but somehow didn't reach out and grab me in the same way. Perhaps a bit of exhaustion has set in, as well as my inevitable tendency for intense introspection (which yes, is always on the surface, but at times even more so than others). Some loneliness as well I suppose. I found myself becoming frustrated and anxious about little things, for example, a slow internet connection at an expensive cafe. I have been away for over 4 weeks now, which officially means I have been travelling for longer than ever before. And so, what's a woman to do, travelling for 4 weeks (with 8 more to go), feeling introspective and tired, in Italy...?
Gelato. Journal. Call a friend. Repeat.
And, as I wrote in one of my letters to myself, allow and leave room for the unpleasant emotions alongside the fabulous ones. No need to judge them. Experience them. Learn from them. Know that they will pass. And, along with allowing the unpleasant emotions, allow the trip to evolve into whatever it will be. I find myself still feeling guilty on days when I need to spend extra time on the computer (like today), as though I "should" be out seeing every beautiful thing there is to see in Florence. Travelling for 3 months is different than travelling for 3 weeks though. It helps me to remind myself that I'm not on a "European getaway vacation", but rather, I am living my life, and it just so happens that I'm in Europe. I can't, therefore, be a tourist everyday. And so, today, yes it is noon, and I still haven't ventured outside. This too is okay.
I arrived in Verona on Monday, after a lovely train journey beside a most friendly man from Sicily. The hostel was in a gorgeous old building (16th century perhaps), and after being surprised that there were no locks on the dorm doors (suprise!), and that my bunk-bed mate was perhaps the least friendly person I have met yet (when I introduced myself, smiling and warm, she replied with, "You don't snore, do you?" in all seriousness...she never did tell me her name), I settled in. I found the famous "Casa di Giulietta" (Juliet's House) without needing to consult a map or ask for directions - the HUGE crowd, even on this rainy day, spoke for itself. People flock to this spot in order to touch Juliet's right breast; then, legend has it, the world will send one a new lover. So, this statue of Juliet stands there, right breast gleaming and smooth, and men and women line up to touch and to have their photo taken. Of course, I partook. Proclamations of love are written all over the walls, and, even more interesting, is the tradition of writing letters to Juliet, seeking advice with anything pertaining to romantic love. Juliet receives thousands upon thousands of letters, so many that the city of Verona actually employs people to translate, read, and respond to each and every letter (this was portrayed in a recent Hollywood chick flick, "Letters to Juliet", which I saw with my 13 year old friend Brianna). And yes, of course I also wrote her a letter. Actually, two. One from me, and one from Brianna. :)
My favourite sights in Verona were the churches, I do believe. A feature of old Roman Catholic churches in Italy is that they also house some of the most important sacred art from the last, oh, 800 years or so. So, one can find beautiful art not only in galleries, but also in churches. These were the oldest I had been in so far, and I marvelled at the art and architecture from as early as the 11th century. Also fascinating was the Roman Arena, built in AD 30, and now used for concerts throughout the year (including a summer opera season which I am sorry to have missed!)
Nothing like sacred art from the 11th century, I went to a photography exhibit yesterday morning before I left Verona that was incredibly moving: http://www.lucianoperbellini.com/13coins.php?lang=eng. Moving in a "What am I doing with my life?" kind of way. Not guilt inducing, just a reminder to keep seeking out the most meaningful ways to be of service to others while also finding work that is a full expression of who I am. The photos, by Luciano Perbellni, told the story of 13 "ordinary" people who are doing incredible work in service to humanity all over the world. I went to a public lecture in Waterloo a couple of years ago, where the co-presenters were a young woman who had experienced significant trauma growing up in Sierra Leone (Mariatu Kamara), and a Canadian journalist who had supported her in telling her story and publishing an English novel (Susan McClelland). During the question and answer period, Susan remarked that she often heard people comment that hearing Mariatu's story "put their own troubles into perspective". She remarked that her concern with this response was that it often silences people, as they feel then that their struggles are not worthy of being voiced. Her hope was that instead, through Mariatu sharing her story, other people would in fact feel invited to share their own stories. This stuck with me, and I thought of it again today as I looked at these photos. Rather than feeling silenced by the immense suffering I saw, I was reminded of the invitation to share my story...
A few photos from Verona...
I journeyed to Florence yesterday, and checked into my hostel in the evening. Up until this point, I have stayed in only female dorms, though I have known that the time would come when, in making a reservation at last minute, I wouldn't have this option. In looking at options in Florence, I did have the option; however, a hostel that appealed to me, both for its price (including free internet access!) and also its location, only had mixed dorms available. I decided to go for it – better to try it out when making a deliberate choice to do so, rather than waiting until I am "stuck". Feeling a bit blah yesterday, there was no one around when I arrived at the room, and I regretted the decision: “I just want to feel comfortable, I want to be able to get dressed without having to hide, etc etc...” Upon returning to my room later in the evening, I was greeted by the most enthusiastic and warm young woman from Spain, her boyfriend (also very genuine and welcoming), and a friendly man from Toronto, currently teaching English in South Korea. Compared with my dorm experience in Verona, this was heaven. All is well.
And so, I am off to the streets of Florence, to find out...
Before I begin, I will share a few photos from breathtaking Venice...
 |
| Wading at Piazza San Marco |
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| Venice from the top of the clock tower |
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| I was thinking I could create a "Gondoliers of Venice" calendar or something... |
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| Beautiful. |
After the excitement, intensity, and beauty of Venice, Verona felt nice, but somehow didn't reach out and grab me in the same way. Perhaps a bit of exhaustion has set in, as well as my inevitable tendency for intense introspection (which yes, is always on the surface, but at times even more so than others). Some loneliness as well I suppose. I found myself becoming frustrated and anxious about little things, for example, a slow internet connection at an expensive cafe. I have been away for over 4 weeks now, which officially means I have been travelling for longer than ever before. And so, what's a woman to do, travelling for 4 weeks (with 8 more to go), feeling introspective and tired, in Italy...?
Gelato. Journal. Call a friend. Repeat.
And, as I wrote in one of my letters to myself, allow and leave room for the unpleasant emotions alongside the fabulous ones. No need to judge them. Experience them. Learn from them. Know that they will pass. And, along with allowing the unpleasant emotions, allow the trip to evolve into whatever it will be. I find myself still feeling guilty on days when I need to spend extra time on the computer (like today), as though I "should" be out seeing every beautiful thing there is to see in Florence. Travelling for 3 months is different than travelling for 3 weeks though. It helps me to remind myself that I'm not on a "European getaway vacation", but rather, I am living my life, and it just so happens that I'm in Europe. I can't, therefore, be a tourist everyday. And so, today, yes it is noon, and I still haven't ventured outside. This too is okay.
I arrived in Verona on Monday, after a lovely train journey beside a most friendly man from Sicily. The hostel was in a gorgeous old building (16th century perhaps), and after being surprised that there were no locks on the dorm doors (suprise!), and that my bunk-bed mate was perhaps the least friendly person I have met yet (when I introduced myself, smiling and warm, she replied with, "You don't snore, do you?" in all seriousness...she never did tell me her name), I settled in. I found the famous "Casa di Giulietta" (Juliet's House) without needing to consult a map or ask for directions - the HUGE crowd, even on this rainy day, spoke for itself. People flock to this spot in order to touch Juliet's right breast; then, legend has it, the world will send one a new lover. So, this statue of Juliet stands there, right breast gleaming and smooth, and men and women line up to touch and to have their photo taken. Of course, I partook. Proclamations of love are written all over the walls, and, even more interesting, is the tradition of writing letters to Juliet, seeking advice with anything pertaining to romantic love. Juliet receives thousands upon thousands of letters, so many that the city of Verona actually employs people to translate, read, and respond to each and every letter (this was portrayed in a recent Hollywood chick flick, "Letters to Juliet", which I saw with my 13 year old friend Brianna). And yes, of course I also wrote her a letter. Actually, two. One from me, and one from Brianna. :)
My favourite sights in Verona were the churches, I do believe. A feature of old Roman Catholic churches in Italy is that they also house some of the most important sacred art from the last, oh, 800 years or so. So, one can find beautiful art not only in galleries, but also in churches. These were the oldest I had been in so far, and I marvelled at the art and architecture from as early as the 11th century. Also fascinating was the Roman Arena, built in AD 30, and now used for concerts throughout the year (including a summer opera season which I am sorry to have missed!)
Nothing like sacred art from the 11th century, I went to a photography exhibit yesterday morning before I left Verona that was incredibly moving: http://www.lucianoperbellini.com/13coins.php?lang=eng. Moving in a "What am I doing with my life?" kind of way. Not guilt inducing, just a reminder to keep seeking out the most meaningful ways to be of service to others while also finding work that is a full expression of who I am. The photos, by Luciano Perbellni, told the story of 13 "ordinary" people who are doing incredible work in service to humanity all over the world. I went to a public lecture in Waterloo a couple of years ago, where the co-presenters were a young woman who had experienced significant trauma growing up in Sierra Leone (Mariatu Kamara), and a Canadian journalist who had supported her in telling her story and publishing an English novel (Susan McClelland). During the question and answer period, Susan remarked that she often heard people comment that hearing Mariatu's story "put their own troubles into perspective". She remarked that her concern with this response was that it often silences people, as they feel then that their struggles are not worthy of being voiced. Her hope was that instead, through Mariatu sharing her story, other people would in fact feel invited to share their own stories. This stuck with me, and I thought of it again today as I looked at these photos. Rather than feeling silenced by the immense suffering I saw, I was reminded of the invitation to share my story...
A few photos from Verona...
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| My problems in love are henceforth solved! |
 |
| Inside the Church of St. Anastasia |
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| Verona & the Adige River |
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| Roman Arena |
Interestingly, I was saying to a friend on the phone on Tuesday night that I was feeling more and more that the pace of my travelling was still needing to slow down, and that I needed to stay in one place for a longer time. Clearly, this was Heard, as yesterday (Wednesday) morning, I went to book a hostel for my time on the coast in Cinque Terre, to learn that I had to book at least 8 days in advance. Going to Cinque Terre and staying at this particular spot feels essential, and so suddenly, I have 8 nights to spend in the Florence area, rather than the predicted 4 or 5. I asked for this, and now, laughably, I am not quite sure what to with myself.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
a gelato a day...
Capturing the spirit of Venice into words feels like quite a task, and I find myself wishing I had a poet's use of language at my disposal. I use words like "beautiful" again and again - there are not enough words to choose from! - for all of these sights truly are such a marvel.
Determined not to ask for directions to the hostel from the bus station on Thursday (don't know why, just the mood of the day), I allowed my intuition to start guiding me, as I couldn't find a single street sign. There were a couple of u-turns, but overall, we faired quite well, through pedestrian streets and over bridges, and I was soon headed in the correct direction - just my gut and a "summary" map (i.e. with many street names missing) from my Lonely Planet book. When I got to what looked like the right spot, I turned down a narrow road, and found #2370, 2371 (I was looking for 2372) before the road ended, and a canal passed through. I left, walked around some more, and then returned to this little street. How could this not be it? (My backpack is getting heavier and heavier...) An older gentleman suddenly turned down the alley, and, seeing me, immediately pointed across the canal from where we were standing, while talking with great spirit (in Italian). I clarified that I was looking for a hostel, but of course, he had figured this out based on my location and my appearance (possibly also my odour). He again pointed to across the canal, and then started giving me directions with large hand gestures, and again, lots of enthusiastic Italian. I caught the word "ponte" (bridge) from everything he was saying, and his hand motions were abundantly clear - left, left, over the bridge, left. No problem. And now, the best part. I followed his directions, and as I approached the lane for the hostel on the other side of the canal from where I had just been, I heard a man's voice yelling. My Italian angel-man was now leaning out of his 3rd story apartment window, clearly watching for me coming and cheering me on, pointing me in the right direction, smiling. I smiled, waved, blew him a kiss. Welcome to Venice.
Venice is both everything and nothing like I had pictured. One sees many photos of this city, and hears: "The streets are canals!" "There are no cars!" "There are crazy pigeons everywhere!" Yes, yes, and yes. Venice looks like it does in the pictures, and this beauty is evident at each turn. Certainly not a case of the tourism department selecting a particularly nice looking canal or building and putting that one on all of the brochures, it feels as though every street, every canal, holds such beauty, romance, mystery. The city, sinking, it's true, has 118 islands and over 400 bridges. There are 6 districts, and addresses don't actually include the street name - just the district and then a number. Needless to say, my favourite thing to do is to put the map away and just walk, seeing where I end up. (On the first night, it was rather far from where I thought I would, but my accuracy is improving.) The main streets are filled with tourists, but if you leave the beaten path, there are seemingly endless narrow alleys, picturesque bridges, and good-looking gondoliers singing in Italian as they paddle...
I cannot begin to capture everything that has been these past 3 1/2 days, and so I will share some "vignettes", memories such as...
Floating down the Grand Canal on a gondola: In coming here, I knew that blowing my budget on this quintessential Venetian experience was a must, both for the sake of doing it, and also as symbolic of truly embracing the being a single woman travelling alone thing. The most expensive thing I've done yet, I took in every moment of this experience, first on the Grand Canal and then weaving through smaller and quainter ones, watching the houses go by, enjoying being on the water, enjoying the sounds of our charming and not-hard-to-look-at gondolier as he sang Italian love songs...
Eating pizza and gelato on my first night here, and, still feeling stubborn I guess, wanting pictures, but not wanting to ask anyone to take them. And so, there are a variety of ridiculous self-portraits of me stuffing my face on the streets of this lovely city.
Depth of connection with human beings, including Matthew, from South Africa, who I met at breakfast on Friday morning. We met over my organic granola and his organic green tea, and after talking about the commodification of water and Karl Marx, as well as travelling, music, people, we set out together to visit the Jewish Ghetto (the word Ghetto actually originated in Venice - Jewish people in Vienna were confined to this one island for over 200 years). We wandered together for several hours on Friday, and then the entire day yesterday. What a gift to be able to spend the day yesterday with someone who I felt I had known much longer than 24 hours. The day included a visit to the Peggy Guggenheim Modern Art Collection, (http://www.guggenheim-venice.it/inglese/default.html), espresso, ice cream, a beautiful sunset from Giudecca Island (just south of the city centre), and a traditional Venetian dinner of risotto with cuttlefish ink (which is actually completely black from the fish ink)! In addition to all of this "doing", conversations, both intense and goofy, made the day incredibly memorable.
Flooding in Piazza San Marco (flooding is a regular occurrence in Venice, at times more serious than others - at public transit stops there are city maps posted detailing the elevated points in the city, so that pedestrians have a safe route of travel when the main routes are flooded): The flooding in this most famous city square was minor on Friday, with a depth of less than a foot in the worst places. Still, the only way to get to the Basilica, or many sights in the square, was to take off one's shoes, and wade through the water. As long as this was done without thinking of the cleanliness of Venetian canal water, it was wonderful to walk around shoe-less through this majestic city square, with hundreds and hundreds of others doing the exact same thing. Absolute and wonderful mayhem.
Watching a little old Italian man fishing in the Grand Canal, while sitting on the steps of the grand Santa Maria del Salute church...Watching him catch a fish, put it in a little plastic bag, and then nonchalantly returning to his fishing while the bag moved around beside him...Watching people being dive-bombed by pigeons constantly...
Purchasing my train ticket to Verona today at the train station: I purchased this at a machine, and was taking my time in using this machine for the first time, figuring out instructions in Italian. An Italian woman behind me in line took it upon herself to, without talking to me, press the buttons for me. Clearly, my state of zen about moving through the world at a less-rushed pace is not shared by all.
The jellybean houses on the island of Burano: I visited this island today, which is famous for its lacework and the vibrant (and I mean vibrant) colours of its houses. With a lovely view of the surrounding "lagoon", I sat in the sun (30 degrees Celsius) with my journal. I also made a quick stop on the island of Murano, famous for its glasswork.
The "simplicty" of the hostel where I am staying, with regards to which I am certainly not complaining, given the relative cost of many other essentials in this city, and also the fact that all of my accommodations up to this point have been glorious. Thus, I can laugh at the bathroom where you can choose to have either a lock OR a light, or the dorm where there is one bedside lamp to share between two people, and nowhere to plug it in...
Public transit entirely by boat, the "vaporetto", where passengers are packed in like sardines while travelling down the picturesque canal system, and the crew yell "Permission! Permission!" as they struggle through this highly packed-in crowd in order to properly dock the boat at each stop.
I need to pee, so I might as well buy a coffee and sit down for a while: The cost of using a public toilet in Venice is £1,50 (paying for public toilets is quite typical in Europe, but this is by farrr the steepest price I have seen yet). When out of touristy areas, you can get a coffee for £2, and so, when you gotta go, for an extra 50 cents, you can get a coffee out of the deal.
All of the moments in which the clearly-not-the-rule stereotypes of Italian culture I hold indeed come true, from the wild hand gestures and dramatic cadence of speech in an older couple arguing in the street or of a boat driver yelling at another for running into him, to Italian children joyfully playing "football" in the alleys of Venice, to the highly flirtatious behaviour of the gondoliers. It's truly delightful, and I am excited to spend several more weeks in this country!
Tuning into my intuition continues to be an important theme, of course in the big moments, but also in small-decision making. I also continue to note my tendency to over-think everything (not new information, clearly), rather than just making a decision and going with it. My plan had been that I would spend 3 nights in this city, but I noted this morning that even the thought of putting on my backpack was exhausting. Besides, it felt like there was more here for me to see, and that I simply needed some time to let the experiences of the past few days really steep. I am truly grateful that I made this decision, as the trips to the islands today were at my pace, and the sights were lovely. I was able to extend my stay by a day with no hassle at all, and I leave for fair Verona tomorrow morning...
Ciao!
With love xo
Determined not to ask for directions to the hostel from the bus station on Thursday (don't know why, just the mood of the day), I allowed my intuition to start guiding me, as I couldn't find a single street sign. There were a couple of u-turns, but overall, we faired quite well, through pedestrian streets and over bridges, and I was soon headed in the correct direction - just my gut and a "summary" map (i.e. with many street names missing) from my Lonely Planet book. When I got to what looked like the right spot, I turned down a narrow road, and found #2370, 2371 (I was looking for 2372) before the road ended, and a canal passed through. I left, walked around some more, and then returned to this little street. How could this not be it? (My backpack is getting heavier and heavier...) An older gentleman suddenly turned down the alley, and, seeing me, immediately pointed across the canal from where we were standing, while talking with great spirit (in Italian). I clarified that I was looking for a hostel, but of course, he had figured this out based on my location and my appearance (possibly also my odour). He again pointed to across the canal, and then started giving me directions with large hand gestures, and again, lots of enthusiastic Italian. I caught the word "ponte" (bridge) from everything he was saying, and his hand motions were abundantly clear - left, left, over the bridge, left. No problem. And now, the best part. I followed his directions, and as I approached the lane for the hostel on the other side of the canal from where I had just been, I heard a man's voice yelling. My Italian angel-man was now leaning out of his 3rd story apartment window, clearly watching for me coming and cheering me on, pointing me in the right direction, smiling. I smiled, waved, blew him a kiss. Welcome to Venice.
Venice is both everything and nothing like I had pictured. One sees many photos of this city, and hears: "The streets are canals!" "There are no cars!" "There are crazy pigeons everywhere!" Yes, yes, and yes. Venice looks like it does in the pictures, and this beauty is evident at each turn. Certainly not a case of the tourism department selecting a particularly nice looking canal or building and putting that one on all of the brochures, it feels as though every street, every canal, holds such beauty, romance, mystery. The city, sinking, it's true, has 118 islands and over 400 bridges. There are 6 districts, and addresses don't actually include the street name - just the district and then a number. Needless to say, my favourite thing to do is to put the map away and just walk, seeing where I end up. (On the first night, it was rather far from where I thought I would, but my accuracy is improving.) The main streets are filled with tourists, but if you leave the beaten path, there are seemingly endless narrow alleys, picturesque bridges, and good-looking gondoliers singing in Italian as they paddle...
I cannot begin to capture everything that has been these past 3 1/2 days, and so I will share some "vignettes", memories such as...
Floating down the Grand Canal on a gondola: In coming here, I knew that blowing my budget on this quintessential Venetian experience was a must, both for the sake of doing it, and also as symbolic of truly embracing the being a single woman travelling alone thing. The most expensive thing I've done yet, I took in every moment of this experience, first on the Grand Canal and then weaving through smaller and quainter ones, watching the houses go by, enjoying being on the water, enjoying the sounds of our charming and not-hard-to-look-at gondolier as he sang Italian love songs...
Eating pizza and gelato on my first night here, and, still feeling stubborn I guess, wanting pictures, but not wanting to ask anyone to take them. And so, there are a variety of ridiculous self-portraits of me stuffing my face on the streets of this lovely city.
Depth of connection with human beings, including Matthew, from South Africa, who I met at breakfast on Friday morning. We met over my organic granola and his organic green tea, and after talking about the commodification of water and Karl Marx, as well as travelling, music, people, we set out together to visit the Jewish Ghetto (the word Ghetto actually originated in Venice - Jewish people in Vienna were confined to this one island for over 200 years). We wandered together for several hours on Friday, and then the entire day yesterday. What a gift to be able to spend the day yesterday with someone who I felt I had known much longer than 24 hours. The day included a visit to the Peggy Guggenheim Modern Art Collection, (http://www.guggenheim-venice.it/inglese/default.html), espresso, ice cream, a beautiful sunset from Giudecca Island (just south of the city centre), and a traditional Venetian dinner of risotto with cuttlefish ink (which is actually completely black from the fish ink)! In addition to all of this "doing", conversations, both intense and goofy, made the day incredibly memorable.
Flooding in Piazza San Marco (flooding is a regular occurrence in Venice, at times more serious than others - at public transit stops there are city maps posted detailing the elevated points in the city, so that pedestrians have a safe route of travel when the main routes are flooded): The flooding in this most famous city square was minor on Friday, with a depth of less than a foot in the worst places. Still, the only way to get to the Basilica, or many sights in the square, was to take off one's shoes, and wade through the water. As long as this was done without thinking of the cleanliness of Venetian canal water, it was wonderful to walk around shoe-less through this majestic city square, with hundreds and hundreds of others doing the exact same thing. Absolute and wonderful mayhem.
Watching a little old Italian man fishing in the Grand Canal, while sitting on the steps of the grand Santa Maria del Salute church...Watching him catch a fish, put it in a little plastic bag, and then nonchalantly returning to his fishing while the bag moved around beside him...Watching people being dive-bombed by pigeons constantly...
Purchasing my train ticket to Verona today at the train station: I purchased this at a machine, and was taking my time in using this machine for the first time, figuring out instructions in Italian. An Italian woman behind me in line took it upon herself to, without talking to me, press the buttons for me. Clearly, my state of zen about moving through the world at a less-rushed pace is not shared by all.
The jellybean houses on the island of Burano: I visited this island today, which is famous for its lacework and the vibrant (and I mean vibrant) colours of its houses. With a lovely view of the surrounding "lagoon", I sat in the sun (30 degrees Celsius) with my journal. I also made a quick stop on the island of Murano, famous for its glasswork.
The "simplicty" of the hostel where I am staying, with regards to which I am certainly not complaining, given the relative cost of many other essentials in this city, and also the fact that all of my accommodations up to this point have been glorious. Thus, I can laugh at the bathroom where you can choose to have either a lock OR a light, or the dorm where there is one bedside lamp to share between two people, and nowhere to plug it in...
Public transit entirely by boat, the "vaporetto", where passengers are packed in like sardines while travelling down the picturesque canal system, and the crew yell "Permission! Permission!" as they struggle through this highly packed-in crowd in order to properly dock the boat at each stop.
I need to pee, so I might as well buy a coffee and sit down for a while: The cost of using a public toilet in Venice is £1,50 (paying for public toilets is quite typical in Europe, but this is by farrr the steepest price I have seen yet). When out of touristy areas, you can get a coffee for £2, and so, when you gotta go, for an extra 50 cents, you can get a coffee out of the deal.
All of the moments in which the clearly-not-the-rule stereotypes of Italian culture I hold indeed come true, from the wild hand gestures and dramatic cadence of speech in an older couple arguing in the street or of a boat driver yelling at another for running into him, to Italian children joyfully playing "football" in the alleys of Venice, to the highly flirtatious behaviour of the gondoliers. It's truly delightful, and I am excited to spend several more weeks in this country!
Tuning into my intuition continues to be an important theme, of course in the big moments, but also in small-decision making. I also continue to note my tendency to over-think everything (not new information, clearly), rather than just making a decision and going with it. My plan had been that I would spend 3 nights in this city, but I noted this morning that even the thought of putting on my backpack was exhausting. Besides, it felt like there was more here for me to see, and that I simply needed some time to let the experiences of the past few days really steep. I am truly grateful that I made this decision, as the trips to the islands today were at my pace, and the sights were lovely. I was able to extend my stay by a day with no hassle at all, and I leave for fair Verona tomorrow morning...
Ciao!
With love xo
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
learning & planting & bound for Italy!
As promised, I will begin by sharing a photo I took when I arrived at Ruth's place on Monday. Here, my friends, is the view from her backyard garden...
In talking to a dear friend on the phone today, I was told I sounded "all zenned out". Can you blame me? :)
Today, self-care abounded. Ruth, Carmit, and Amihai (two guests here from Israel) went to Salzburg for the day, and so I had this beautiful space entirely to myself, and only my two feet for travelling on. I went for a long walk up "Ruth's Alp" this morning, and took in more of the glorious view that surrounds me here. The day has also featured more time at the piano (which I discovered is a Bösendorfer, for the music folks reading this!!!!!!), with my journal, and getting caught up with emails and a few phone calls. Most importantly though, has been a little planting ritual. I have shared with some of you my now yearly tradition (this is year two) of taking time to write down things I wish to release from my life, and then burning these pieces of paper, and then writing down things I wish to affirm and invite into my life, and then "planting" these in the ground (with credits and hugs to Deb and Christine for introducing me to this and sharing this experience with me in the past xo). Having burnt a bunch of stuff back in July at home, I brought my "seeds" for planting along with me on this trip. These invitations and affirmations have found a home under an apple tree in Ruth's garden - I loved the image of a well-tended garden and fruit tree, where deliberate cultivation leads to new life and fruit. I figure the view can't hurt either.
Yesterday, I had the absolute pleasure of getting to know Carmit and Amihai well - first, in sharing a lively and fascinating conversation over breakfast about their experiences with mandatory military service in Israel (which both of them have completed); I was reminded how privileged and sheltered, relatively speaking, my life has been, and how much naivety still exists within me. I learned so much from them in this conversation, and was really challenged in my own thinking, reminded that there are further grey areas than I know.
From the breakfast table, we headed to Hohe Tauern National Park in their rental car: http://www.hohetauern.at/en.html. I was so grateful for this trek, and to be able to share it with such lovely and friendly people. Before I left home, I had read about this park and was determined to visit. Not super accessible via public transportation, connecting with Ruth was the first step, as her home is about 30 minutes from the border of this beautiful area. Still without a plan as to how I was actually going to travel through the area, in yet another beautiful serendipitous moment, I learned on Monday night that Carmit and Amihai were already planning on making this trip on Tuesday, and were more than happy for me to come along for the ride. Sooo wonderful! The park features many glorious views of snowy mountain peaks, including the highest point in the park, Grossglockner Mountain at 3798m, glaciers, and a fabulously treacherous winding road with signs that periodically ask, "Brakes ok?" The trip up the mountains was beautiful and the skies were clear, affording an incredible view of our surroundings:
Indeed! At the point where the road reaches its highest elevation, there is a tunnel through a mountain - on this other side is the most frequented area in the park, the Grossglockner and the large Pasterze glacier. When we exited this tunnel we drove into intense fog, which didn't break at all on this other side of the mountain. To your left, you will see our view of this likely most stunning vantage point. A member of the park staff informed us that there was no chance that the clouds would break during the day, and so we turned around and headed back down the mountain, stopping at a restaurant for knödel (dumpling) soup once we had a view again!
Ruth had highly recommended that we do some hiking at a waterfall in Krimml, so we headed there next (about an hour west of Ruth's village). We had time to walk up the first two "tiers" of Austria's largest waterfall: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krimmler_Wasserf%C3%A4lle. After the serenity and majesty of the Alps, I welcomed this contrast; standing at the very base of the falls, getting completely soaked by their spray, I was reminded of the power within these surroundings.We were greeted back at Ruth's with a traditional Austrian meal of small dumplings with local cheese, salad, and a freshly baked cake covered in blackberries from the garden.
I have been so well taken of during this 3 night stay in Gries. The scenery, company, exquisite and healthy organic food, piano, access to technology...Ruth even approached me about an hour ago to ask if she could include any clothes of mine in a load of laundry she was doing. I am overflowing with gratitude - and to think that I discovered this little spot completely by "accident"!
I leave you with a few photos from Salz, as well as one more from Ruth's backyard. I have been so grateful for the serenity of this little village and a slower-pace of life for a few days. Tomorrow, the train will take me to Venice, where I may have to more deliberately cultivate a slower pace, should I wish for it. Or perhaps I will be ready to take this city on full force.
I don't think there is any internet access at my hostel, and I have read that the internet cafes in Venice are incredibly expensive. The next blog update may have to wait until I have affordable access to internet once again, or until I learn how to summarize and write quickly, whichever comes first. ;) Thus far I think I have been fairly successfully in navigating a balance between budgeting (i.e. buying bread and smothering it in the organic President's Choice p.b. I brought from home) while also living life to its fullest (i.e. nockerl the size ofmy head), experiencing each unique culture and making sure I do the things I have dreamed of. I may just blow the budget on a gondola ride in the next couple of days... :)
Italy bound, with love...
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| The view from Ruth's garden, Gries im Pinzgrau, Austria |
In talking to a dear friend on the phone today, I was told I sounded "all zenned out". Can you blame me? :)
Today, self-care abounded. Ruth, Carmit, and Amihai (two guests here from Israel) went to Salzburg for the day, and so I had this beautiful space entirely to myself, and only my two feet for travelling on. I went for a long walk up "Ruth's Alp" this morning, and took in more of the glorious view that surrounds me here. The day has also featured more time at the piano (which I discovered is a Bösendorfer, for the music folks reading this!!!!!!), with my journal, and getting caught up with emails and a few phone calls. Most importantly though, has been a little planting ritual. I have shared with some of you my now yearly tradition (this is year two) of taking time to write down things I wish to release from my life, and then burning these pieces of paper, and then writing down things I wish to affirm and invite into my life, and then "planting" these in the ground (with credits and hugs to Deb and Christine for introducing me to this and sharing this experience with me in the past xo). Having burnt a bunch of stuff back in July at home, I brought my "seeds" for planting along with me on this trip. These invitations and affirmations have found a home under an apple tree in Ruth's garden - I loved the image of a well-tended garden and fruit tree, where deliberate cultivation leads to new life and fruit. I figure the view can't hurt either.
Yesterday, I had the absolute pleasure of getting to know Carmit and Amihai well - first, in sharing a lively and fascinating conversation over breakfast about their experiences with mandatory military service in Israel (which both of them have completed); I was reminded how privileged and sheltered, relatively speaking, my life has been, and how much naivety still exists within me. I learned so much from them in this conversation, and was really challenged in my own thinking, reminded that there are further grey areas than I know.
From the breakfast table, we headed to Hohe Tauern National Park in their rental car: http://www.hohetauern.at/en.html. I was so grateful for this trek, and to be able to share it with such lovely and friendly people. Before I left home, I had read about this park and was determined to visit. Not super accessible via public transportation, connecting with Ruth was the first step, as her home is about 30 minutes from the border of this beautiful area. Still without a plan as to how I was actually going to travel through the area, in yet another beautiful serendipitous moment, I learned on Monday night that Carmit and Amihai were already planning on making this trip on Tuesday, and were more than happy for me to come along for the ride. Sooo wonderful! The park features many glorious views of snowy mountain peaks, including the highest point in the park, Grossglockner Mountain at 3798m, glaciers, and a fabulously treacherous winding road with signs that periodically ask, "Brakes ok?" The trip up the mountains was beautiful and the skies were clear, affording an incredible view of our surroundings:
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| With Carmit at Hohe Tauern National Park |
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| If not, it's way too late...Hohe Tauern National Park |
 |
| Fog and the famous Pasterze Glacier |
Ruth had highly recommended that we do some hiking at a waterfall in Krimml, so we headed there next (about an hour west of Ruth's village). We had time to walk up the first two "tiers" of Austria's largest waterfall: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krimmler_Wasserf%C3%A4lle. After the serenity and majesty of the Alps, I welcomed this contrast; standing at the very base of the falls, getting completely soaked by their spray, I was reminded of the power within these surroundings.We were greeted back at Ruth's with a traditional Austrian meal of small dumplings with local cheese, salad, and a freshly baked cake covered in blackberries from the garden.
I have been so well taken of during this 3 night stay in Gries. The scenery, company, exquisite and healthy organic food, piano, access to technology...Ruth even approached me about an hour ago to ask if she could include any clothes of mine in a load of laundry she was doing. I am overflowing with gratitude - and to think that I discovered this little spot completely by "accident"!
I leave you with a few photos from Salz, as well as one more from Ruth's backyard. I have been so grateful for the serenity of this little village and a slower-pace of life for a few days. Tomorrow, the train will take me to Venice, where I may have to more deliberately cultivate a slower pace, should I wish for it. Or perhaps I will be ready to take this city on full force.
I don't think there is any internet access at my hostel, and I have read that the internet cafes in Venice are incredibly expensive. The next blog update may have to wait until I have affordable access to internet once again, or until I learn how to summarize and write quickly, whichever comes first. ;) Thus far I think I have been fairly successfully in navigating a balance between budgeting (i.e. buying bread and smothering it in the organic President's Choice p.b. I brought from home) while also living life to its fullest (i.e. nockerl the size ofmy head), experiencing each unique culture and making sure I do the things I have dreamed of. I may just blow the budget on a gondola ride in the next couple of days... :)
Italy bound, with love...
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| Fräulein Maria's Bike Tour, Salzburg |
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| Salzburg Dome Cathedral |
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Hohensalzburg Fortress, from a different mountain... |
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| Eating Nockerl in Salzburg |
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| Chilling in Ruth's garden again... |
Monday, September 6, 2010
nockerl (the size of my head!) & mountain paradise
I sit writing this with windows all around me, a panoramic view of the Alps, both rolling hills and also snow-capped peaks, just outside of them. Immediately outside of the windows are gardens, both vegetables and flowers, a grassy area for sitting and gazing at the view, or a wrap around porch, if you would prefer. Bread is baking in the oven, the smells wafting through the house, and lunch included juice that had been made from the flowers of one of the nearby trees. Before I lost myself in journalling, I spent about an hour playing the piano and singing beside one of these windows with this spectacular view (I have the choice of the impeccably tuned upright on the upper floor, or the grand on the main floor). Books and books of Chopin lie at the top of the piles of music, as though they were just waiting for my arrival...
I believe I mentioned in a previous entry that I had connected with someone on couch surfing by beautiful accident - when I first saw Ruth's profile, I had been looking for a place to stay in the city of Salzburg. When I realized she in fact lived 90km south of the city, just outside of the village of Gries im Pinzgau, "on an Alp", I went to continue my search, and then on a whim decided to contact her. And so, here I sit, on an Alp. Ruth was in Salzburg today, and so she drove me to this mountain paradise of hers, a house she built 20 years ago. She is a homeopath, psychologist, musician, gardener, baker, mom, world traveller, among many other things. This place is a bit surreal - a true gift - and the perfect spot for me to practice my intention of actually slowing down.
When I last left you, I had just arrived in Salzburg, and successfully found my hostel thanks to the goodwill of our friends Barney and Mike. I woke up in good time on Saturday morning for my Fräulein Maria's Sound of Music bicycle tour (http://www.mariasbicycletours.com/welcome.htm). Who participates in a bicycle tour in the rain, you ask? Me! And, a woman named Sharon, in her 60s, who was travelling from Florida. The two of us, plus our lovely tour guide Gertrude, set off through the streets of Salzburg and the surrounding area, riding delightful city bikes that the Fräulein herself may have ridden. Definitely not the "Sound of Music tour" experience one imagines when picturing Salzburg (i.e. 40 North Americans in a tour bus singing "The hills are alive" at the top of their lungs), though I was a bit disappointed that there was no singing involved, riding a bike for four hours, with a light sprinkling of rain and while the city streets were relatively quiet, through winding alley ways, parks, and bike trails, was exactly what I needed. It's true that doing the tour by bike means that you don't actually get to go to the hills where that famous first scene was filmed. But, you also get to see narrow streets, parks, and trails that you would never see on a bus - in addition to seeing many Sound of Music filming locations, this was simply a lovely way to be introduced to the city. Movie locations we saw included the front and back of the Von Trapp home (two totally different homes were used), the graveyard (which was altered in studio, because the graves in real life are not actually large enough to hide behind), the concert hall, the abbey, the gazebo ("I am 16 going on 17" - the city has had to lock the gazebo due to tourists injuring themselves while dancing inside of it, endeavouring to re-create the scene from the movie) and a number of stairways, fountains, archways, and paths used in filming. On the front of our bikes we had laminated pictures from scenes of the movie, so that we were able to compare these with where we were actually standing. Twas lovely to see the movie scenes of this beloved childhood movie, but my favourite part was riding a bike for four hours, getting to know my way around the city, and gazing upon the beautiful snow-covered alps in the distance.
That afternoon, I climbed to the HohenSalzburg Fortress (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hohensalzburg_Castle), for a lovely view of the city, as well as some information about military history, torture chambers and the like (not so much my thing). The cloud cover prevented the glorious view of the mountains that would have been possible from this height, but I enjoyed taking in the history - construction of this fortress began in 1077 - and learning about how it had been developed strategically by various archbishops over the years, depending on the political situation of the day.
Yesterday morning invited a leisurely sleep in, and then a visit to Mozart's birth-house and also his long-time residence. I opted not to pay to see the museums at either of these sights (figuring that I have memorized the details of Mozart's life and works enough times over the years), but enjoyed imagining the young Wolfgang frolicking about these same streets that I was walking. I also visited a number of churches, and happened upon the grave of Mozart's widow and also his father. I also happened upon 4 women from the K-W area in a touristy salt store (3 of them were travelling together, and they had just randomly happened upon the 4th lady moments before I arrived on the scene) - it turns out that they are loyal supporters of Lutherwood, and so I thanked them for their contributions to paying my salary, and we got a group photo before we headed in our 3 separate directions!
By suggestion of Michaela, I went to a traditional Austrian restaurant for Nockerl (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salzburger_Nockerl), and felt a bit conspicuous when this dessert as big as my head arrived. (And even more conspicuous when I, of course, took a photo of it...)
The highlight yesterday was a hike around dinner time, up at least 600m, which provided a truly breathtaking view of the surrounding alps (breathtaking by yesterday's standards, that is). As I walked back down the hill, I was stopped in my tracks by the beauty around me. I stopped, allowing myself to be perfectly still, just looking, breathing. I had such a restorative, joyful, empowering, letting go kind of cry while listening to "One of These Days" (www.myspace.com/gracewandering) (shameless self promotion), still standing absolutely still. I can feel myself starting to allow myself to slow down a bit. There have been moments over these past few days where hanging out in Europe on my own for another couple of months has felt daunting at best. Yesterday, equipped with necessary reminders of the preciousness of my most important relationships, and at that moment, standing overlooking Salzburg and the Alps, I felt myself to be an empowered solo traveler once again. I also recognized, as I often do, my tendency for both literal and metaphorical mountain-top experiences, knowing that with these, comes also swings in the other direction. Noticing these without judgement, and arriving somewhere steady and grounded, I found myself actually skipping at times as I walked back down the trail, harmonizing along to Ingrid Michaelson on my ipod. :)
Empowered turned to stress this morning (again, noticing this tendency of mine), as while speaking to Ruth and getting directions on the phone, I finally said "okay" because I knew my phone was running out of minutes, but, through her thick accent, couldn't actually make out all of the letters of the street names that she had patiently spelled out for me. After Googlemaps came to the rescue (Ruth had said that she was at an apartment that she rents out to tourists; to my surprise, when seeking out her address on the internet, I found a tourist destination called "Ruth House", on a street name close to what I had interpreted). I set off, feeling confident once again, only to not find the bus stop anywhere close to where I had thought it was; when I finally did find it, the road was completely under construction, and I had to catch the bus from the other side of the river. Panic, panic...My cell is out of minutes...What if Ruth leaves for the Alps without me...Panic panic...
When I finally got in touch with Ruth to tell her I was running 30 minutes late, she assured me that she was only getting around to eating breakfast at this point (12:30pm), and that there was no need for me to rush. Reminders to slow down. When I finally arrived at the apartment, I met her son Frederic, 25, and another Canadian Couch Surfer, from just outside of Guelph. Lola Jean, around my age, is taking 6 months to travel around Europe, and is hitch-hiking for the most part. (I told her I would use her as an example to quell my own family's worries as to my safety, considering that hitch hiking is not part of my plan). It was inspiring to hear her stories about the ways in which people have opened up their cars and homes to her, and how she is learning to trust in the goodwill of others and take things one day at a time. Each time I meet a fellow solo-traveller I am inspired in some new way, and learn something new about the world.
The fresh bread that is now on the counter is calling my name.
I will hopefully post some photos of my mountain paradise soon.
Sending my love!
I believe I mentioned in a previous entry that I had connected with someone on couch surfing by beautiful accident - when I first saw Ruth's profile, I had been looking for a place to stay in the city of Salzburg. When I realized she in fact lived 90km south of the city, just outside of the village of Gries im Pinzgau, "on an Alp", I went to continue my search, and then on a whim decided to contact her. And so, here I sit, on an Alp. Ruth was in Salzburg today, and so she drove me to this mountain paradise of hers, a house she built 20 years ago. She is a homeopath, psychologist, musician, gardener, baker, mom, world traveller, among many other things. This place is a bit surreal - a true gift - and the perfect spot for me to practice my intention of actually slowing down.
When I last left you, I had just arrived in Salzburg, and successfully found my hostel thanks to the goodwill of our friends Barney and Mike. I woke up in good time on Saturday morning for my Fräulein Maria's Sound of Music bicycle tour (http://www.mariasbicycletours.com/welcome.htm). Who participates in a bicycle tour in the rain, you ask? Me! And, a woman named Sharon, in her 60s, who was travelling from Florida. The two of us, plus our lovely tour guide Gertrude, set off through the streets of Salzburg and the surrounding area, riding delightful city bikes that the Fräulein herself may have ridden. Definitely not the "Sound of Music tour" experience one imagines when picturing Salzburg (i.e. 40 North Americans in a tour bus singing "The hills are alive" at the top of their lungs), though I was a bit disappointed that there was no singing involved, riding a bike for four hours, with a light sprinkling of rain and while the city streets were relatively quiet, through winding alley ways, parks, and bike trails, was exactly what I needed. It's true that doing the tour by bike means that you don't actually get to go to the hills where that famous first scene was filmed. But, you also get to see narrow streets, parks, and trails that you would never see on a bus - in addition to seeing many Sound of Music filming locations, this was simply a lovely way to be introduced to the city. Movie locations we saw included the front and back of the Von Trapp home (two totally different homes were used), the graveyard (which was altered in studio, because the graves in real life are not actually large enough to hide behind), the concert hall, the abbey, the gazebo ("I am 16 going on 17" - the city has had to lock the gazebo due to tourists injuring themselves while dancing inside of it, endeavouring to re-create the scene from the movie) and a number of stairways, fountains, archways, and paths used in filming. On the front of our bikes we had laminated pictures from scenes of the movie, so that we were able to compare these with where we were actually standing. Twas lovely to see the movie scenes of this beloved childhood movie, but my favourite part was riding a bike for four hours, getting to know my way around the city, and gazing upon the beautiful snow-covered alps in the distance.
That afternoon, I climbed to the HohenSalzburg Fortress (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hohensalzburg_Castle), for a lovely view of the city, as well as some information about military history, torture chambers and the like (not so much my thing). The cloud cover prevented the glorious view of the mountains that would have been possible from this height, but I enjoyed taking in the history - construction of this fortress began in 1077 - and learning about how it had been developed strategically by various archbishops over the years, depending on the political situation of the day.
Yesterday morning invited a leisurely sleep in, and then a visit to Mozart's birth-house and also his long-time residence. I opted not to pay to see the museums at either of these sights (figuring that I have memorized the details of Mozart's life and works enough times over the years), but enjoyed imagining the young Wolfgang frolicking about these same streets that I was walking. I also visited a number of churches, and happened upon the grave of Mozart's widow and also his father. I also happened upon 4 women from the K-W area in a touristy salt store (3 of them were travelling together, and they had just randomly happened upon the 4th lady moments before I arrived on the scene) - it turns out that they are loyal supporters of Lutherwood, and so I thanked them for their contributions to paying my salary, and we got a group photo before we headed in our 3 separate directions!
By suggestion of Michaela, I went to a traditional Austrian restaurant for Nockerl (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salzburger_Nockerl), and felt a bit conspicuous when this dessert as big as my head arrived. (And even more conspicuous when I, of course, took a photo of it...)
The highlight yesterday was a hike around dinner time, up at least 600m, which provided a truly breathtaking view of the surrounding alps (breathtaking by yesterday's standards, that is). As I walked back down the hill, I was stopped in my tracks by the beauty around me. I stopped, allowing myself to be perfectly still, just looking, breathing. I had such a restorative, joyful, empowering, letting go kind of cry while listening to "One of These Days" (www.myspace.com/gracewandering) (shameless self promotion), still standing absolutely still. I can feel myself starting to allow myself to slow down a bit. There have been moments over these past few days where hanging out in Europe on my own for another couple of months has felt daunting at best. Yesterday, equipped with necessary reminders of the preciousness of my most important relationships, and at that moment, standing overlooking Salzburg and the Alps, I felt myself to be an empowered solo traveler once again. I also recognized, as I often do, my tendency for both literal and metaphorical mountain-top experiences, knowing that with these, comes also swings in the other direction. Noticing these without judgement, and arriving somewhere steady and grounded, I found myself actually skipping at times as I walked back down the trail, harmonizing along to Ingrid Michaelson on my ipod. :)
Empowered turned to stress this morning (again, noticing this tendency of mine), as while speaking to Ruth and getting directions on the phone, I finally said "okay" because I knew my phone was running out of minutes, but, through her thick accent, couldn't actually make out all of the letters of the street names that she had patiently spelled out for me. After Googlemaps came to the rescue (Ruth had said that she was at an apartment that she rents out to tourists; to my surprise, when seeking out her address on the internet, I found a tourist destination called "Ruth House", on a street name close to what I had interpreted). I set off, feeling confident once again, only to not find the bus stop anywhere close to where I had thought it was; when I finally did find it, the road was completely under construction, and I had to catch the bus from the other side of the river. Panic, panic...My cell is out of minutes...What if Ruth leaves for the Alps without me...Panic panic...
When I finally got in touch with Ruth to tell her I was running 30 minutes late, she assured me that she was only getting around to eating breakfast at this point (12:30pm), and that there was no need for me to rush. Reminders to slow down. When I finally arrived at the apartment, I met her son Frederic, 25, and another Canadian Couch Surfer, from just outside of Guelph. Lola Jean, around my age, is taking 6 months to travel around Europe, and is hitch-hiking for the most part. (I told her I would use her as an example to quell my own family's worries as to my safety, considering that hitch hiking is not part of my plan). It was inspiring to hear her stories about the ways in which people have opened up their cars and homes to her, and how she is learning to trust in the goodwill of others and take things one day at a time. Each time I meet a fellow solo-traveller I am inspired in some new way, and learn something new about the world.
The fresh bread that is now on the counter is calling my name.
I will hopefully post some photos of my mountain paradise soon.
Sending my love!
Friday, September 3, 2010
lucky
Although excited to move onto Salzburg and continue my journey, I was also sad to say goodbye to Michaela, to her fabulous apartment that I have called home for the past 5 nights (case in point: I had been planning on leaving at noon, and when she got home from work, I was still there...), and to the city of Vienna in general. I know I said this before, but I will repeat and italicize: couch surfing is a sure way to meet incredible people. What a beautiful stay in Vienna - thank you, Michaela!
A dear and important mentor of mine recently introduced me to the art of Frida Kahlo, and so I was eager to attend a Kahlo exhibition yesterday. This exhibition just opened on Sept 1st, and so my visit to Vienna was timed perfectly. It was very beautifully laid out, with not only paintings but also a great deal of photography of Kahlo, and many excerpts from her life story. Beautiful, disturbing, inspiring, intense, dark, yet vibrant and alive - she was truly a fascinating woman. A large percentage of her paintings were self-portraits, and so many aspects of her story can been witnessed by noting how she portrayed herself differently over her life's course.
Needing to decompress after the Kahlo exhibit, I found Christine's favourite Viennese gelato place (thanks, Christine!!!), had some lunch, wandered a bookstore, sat in 3 different churches, and finally took the subway to the Schönbrunn Palace: http://www.schoenbrunn.at/en/home.html. An absolutely HUGE place (the palace itself, and also the land around it), I wasn't in the mood for viewing the opulent living quarters of royalty, and so I spent a couple of hours wandering the gardens (and still didn't see everything), enjoying the variety of statues I ran into now and again.
Yesterday evening, Michaela and I took the train to Korneuberg (a small and quaint town about 15km north of the city) where her Mom picked us up. From there, we went to a traditional Heuriger: this is a wine-tavern unique to Eastern Austria, that is only open at certain times of year. There are more touristy Heuriger in Vienna itself, but I was definitely the only one at this location! Insistent that I was too skinny, Michaela's delightful mother put the biggest spread of food in front of me that I have eaten in a long time: a mincemeat kind of blob of meat and spices, potato salad, bean salad, bread, and four different kinds of spreads (liver, pig fat, egg, and cheese). We drank sturm once again (quickly becoming my drink of choice) and sampled three different desserts, including punschkrapfen (http://www.cis.at/de/formulare/presse/images_food/punschkrapfen300dpi.jpg - traditionally Austrian, a chocolate cake soaked in rum with pink icing). I described the evening as a bit surreal; there are moments where it occurs to me just how far away from home I am, and this was certainly one of them. Such good food and such good company.
And so, after a lazy day at Michaela's apartment and a 3 hour train journey, I have arrived safely in Salzburg. As Sarah will attest to, many city maps in Europe do not have the all-important "You are here" feature on them. And so, while standing outside the Salzburg train station, staring at a large map on the wall and trying to figure out where I was, I was thankful for Barney and Mike, two punk dudes from Chicago ("We've f-ing been trying to hitch-hike to Croatia all day, and finally gave in and bought a ticket for 50 f-ing Euros), who noticed my confusion, came over to help, gave me their map to keep, and helped me find my way to my hostel. Notable, is that their map came with pictures of hearts at all the best "kissing locations" in town, and before we said farewell, Mike said that he hoped I would "get lucky" while in Salzburg.
And...if by lucky, he meant The Sound of Music tour, then by golly he was right! I am thinking that I will likely embrace the kitsch and head off on Fraulein Maria's bicycle tour of the Sound of Music scenes tomorrow morning bright and early. A typical Austrian, Michaela hasn't actually seen The Sound of Music, but is highly amused that I'm going on this tour; I imagine that she will be singing "The hills are alive" for days to come.
I will leave you once again with a few photo highlights...
The hills are alive.
With love xo
A dear and important mentor of mine recently introduced me to the art of Frida Kahlo, and so I was eager to attend a Kahlo exhibition yesterday. This exhibition just opened on Sept 1st, and so my visit to Vienna was timed perfectly. It was very beautifully laid out, with not only paintings but also a great deal of photography of Kahlo, and many excerpts from her life story. Beautiful, disturbing, inspiring, intense, dark, yet vibrant and alive - she was truly a fascinating woman. A large percentage of her paintings were self-portraits, and so many aspects of her story can been witnessed by noting how she portrayed herself differently over her life's course.
Needing to decompress after the Kahlo exhibit, I found Christine's favourite Viennese gelato place (thanks, Christine!!!), had some lunch, wandered a bookstore, sat in 3 different churches, and finally took the subway to the Schönbrunn Palace: http://www.schoenbrunn.at/en/home.html. An absolutely HUGE place (the palace itself, and also the land around it), I wasn't in the mood for viewing the opulent living quarters of royalty, and so I spent a couple of hours wandering the gardens (and still didn't see everything), enjoying the variety of statues I ran into now and again.
Yesterday evening, Michaela and I took the train to Korneuberg (a small and quaint town about 15km north of the city) where her Mom picked us up. From there, we went to a traditional Heuriger: this is a wine-tavern unique to Eastern Austria, that is only open at certain times of year. There are more touristy Heuriger in Vienna itself, but I was definitely the only one at this location! Insistent that I was too skinny, Michaela's delightful mother put the biggest spread of food in front of me that I have eaten in a long time: a mincemeat kind of blob of meat and spices, potato salad, bean salad, bread, and four different kinds of spreads (liver, pig fat, egg, and cheese). We drank sturm once again (quickly becoming my drink of choice) and sampled three different desserts, including punschkrapfen (http://www.cis.at/de/formulare/presse/images_food/punschkrapfen300dpi.jpg - traditionally Austrian, a chocolate cake soaked in rum with pink icing). I described the evening as a bit surreal; there are moments where it occurs to me just how far away from home I am, and this was certainly one of them. Such good food and such good company.
And so, after a lazy day at Michaela's apartment and a 3 hour train journey, I have arrived safely in Salzburg. As Sarah will attest to, many city maps in Europe do not have the all-important "You are here" feature on them. And so, while standing outside the Salzburg train station, staring at a large map on the wall and trying to figure out where I was, I was thankful for Barney and Mike, two punk dudes from Chicago ("We've f-ing been trying to hitch-hike to Croatia all day, and finally gave in and bought a ticket for 50 f-ing Euros), who noticed my confusion, came over to help, gave me their map to keep, and helped me find my way to my hostel. Notable, is that their map came with pictures of hearts at all the best "kissing locations" in town, and before we said farewell, Mike said that he hoped I would "get lucky" while in Salzburg.
And...if by lucky, he meant The Sound of Music tour, then by golly he was right! I am thinking that I will likely embrace the kitsch and head off on Fraulein Maria's bicycle tour of the Sound of Music scenes tomorrow morning bright and early. A typical Austrian, Michaela hasn't actually seen The Sound of Music, but is highly amused that I'm going on this tour; I imagine that she will be singing "The hills are alive" for days to come.
I will leave you once again with a few photo highlights...
The hills are alive.
With love xo
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| Being a tourist: the most photographed spot in Bratislava |
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| Bryndza (sheep cheese) dumplings with bacon, Bratislava |
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| Devin Castle, Slovakia (with our CS host, Tyna) |
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| "Yeah, that's right, Haydn. It's going to be my picture in this spot in 100 years": Haus der Musik, Vienna |
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| Vienna Opera House |
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| At the Heuriger (wine-tavern)drinking sturm with Michaela: | Korneuburg, Austria |
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| Not as bad as it seems: A cafe in Vienna |
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| Schönbrunn Palace, Vienna |
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| I saw all the most important toilets in Vienna |
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| "Crouching Girl" by Kolbe, Leopold Museum, Vienna |
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| Streets of Vienna |
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| Museums Quartier, Vienna |
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| Sung to the tune of the 5th symphony: "Beethoven in the rain....Beethoven in the rain" |
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
solo & inviting stillness
It's official: I am a solo traveller...
I am feeling so completely "at home" in Vienna, and I know that it was meant-to-be that my transition to life as a solo traveller would occur here. Culturally, Vienna feels not so distant from home (aside from everything being gorgeous and centuries old, and the fact that everyone speaks German), and I honestly cannot imagine a better couch surfing experience. I am very, very well.
On Monday evening, Michaela (C.S. host extraordinaire), Sarah, and I went to a very traditional and non-touristy Austrian restaurant for schnitzel, Austrian wine and "sturm", and cake. It was the perfect end for Sarah's journey, and she described the evening as giving her "a second travel wind". Delicious food, fabulous company, and great to be somewhere that wasn't infiltrated with tourists for a more authentic experience.
A major focus of the last two days has been art. Yesterday, a trip to the Belvedere Palaces, both Upper and Lower Belvedere, filled my afternoon with works such as Klimt's "The Kiss" (the most famous work at the gallery) and "Adam and Eve", as well as works by Egon Schiele (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egon_Schiele), Renoir, Rodin, and many others. The "Character Heads" of Franz Xaver Messerschmidt also really stood out (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Xaver_Messerschmidt), particularly due to their uniqueness for the time period they were created in. At the "Lower Belevedere" palace, the featured exhibition was entitled "Sleeping Beauty", and the focal point was Frederic Leighton's famous "Flaming June": http://persephone.cps.unizar.es/~spd/Pre-Raphaelites/Big/FlamingJune.jpg.
Today, at the Leopold Museum in the famous "Museums Quartier", more Klimt and Schiele were the highlights (the world's largest collection of Schiele is found here). I was also introduced to the architecture of Joseph Maria Olbrich, and the overtly and unapologetically sexual works of Otto Muehl (not sure how some of these paintings would go over in a Canadian gallery). In addition to his vibrant paintings, the walls were covered in quotes from Muehl's various manifestos. Many were controversial, certainly, as aspects of his life have certainly been less than admirable. Many of his ideas were inspiring though, particularly with regards to the role that art has to play in society, and art's importance as an expressive medium. I also appreciated a display that integrated paintings of Klimt, Schiele, and Koloman Moser, with quotes and ideas from Freud, all contemporaries of one another. I left the museum feeling fully saturated, and I am really looking forward to a special exhibit of the works of Frida Kahlo tomorrow.
Yesterday, when not perusing Viennese art galleries, I found myself fighting with (and eventually throwing out) the umbrella that I had purchased just one day previously. I have heard that the weather at home has been sweltering. Well, yesterday it was 10 degrees and pouring rain in Vienna. Idealistic, I set out initially to do some sightseeing on foot, but quickly found myself sopping wet and drinking coffee in a lovely little cafe across the street from the opera house, watching other tourists fight with their respective cheap umbrellas, while I dried off a bit. I was thrilled to see the sun today, and went for a lovely jog this morning, before heading to the city centre and the art gallery. I am becoming quite accustomed to my morning subway trip into downtown from Michaela's apartment. The Viennese people truly have it going on when it comes to public transit - this is the most efficient and thorough system I have ever experienced, and apparently, the subway system here is renowned worldwide. Tonight, Michaela and I made a simple and yet delicious salad together (and she tried raw mushrooms for the first time - apparently this is quite unusual in these parts), drank wine, and did laundry. Tomorrow, I will smell good once again - such simple pleasures. :)
In these past 2 days since Sarah left, I have noticed my aversion to stillness, the habit I have of waking up with a "to-do" list for the day already running through my mind before I so much as open my eyes. Though I have no set schedule whatsoever and nearly 3 months still ahead of me, still I wake up worried that I won't see everything I want to see in the day. I seek to let go of this need to always be "doing" and this pressure I am apparently putting on myself to "see everything" and not to "waste time". There is some serious deconstruction of these ideas to be done, as I learn to just let each day unfold as it will, to remain in the present, and let this trip be whatever it is meant to be.
Yesterday, when looking for Couch Surfing options in Salzburg, I found a woman who lives 90km south of Salzburg, in the middle of the Alps. I messaged her on a whim, and cried when I got her response today. Hiking, mountain waterfalls, glaciers, and so on, are all close by to her little piece of paradise, 25km away from even the closest village. And, not only would she be thrilled to host me, but she will be in Salzburg on Monday, so will even drive me to her place, so that I don't need to figure out public transport to her home. Serendipity. I am loving Vienna, and am also excited that I will be spending some time next week away from car fumes, cigarette smoke, and city noise, hiking in the Alps. This is soo meant to be.
I have been re-reading Paulo Coelho's "The Alchemist", as it seems very fitting for this journey that I am finding myself on. My favourite quote from yesterday: "The boy felt jealous of the freedom of the wind, and saw that he could have the same freedom. There was nothing to hold him back except himself."
Filled with the knowledge that I was meant to be right here, right now...
And sending my love.
I am feeling so completely "at home" in Vienna, and I know that it was meant-to-be that my transition to life as a solo traveller would occur here. Culturally, Vienna feels not so distant from home (aside from everything being gorgeous and centuries old, and the fact that everyone speaks German), and I honestly cannot imagine a better couch surfing experience. I am very, very well.
On Monday evening, Michaela (C.S. host extraordinaire), Sarah, and I went to a very traditional and non-touristy Austrian restaurant for schnitzel, Austrian wine and "sturm", and cake. It was the perfect end for Sarah's journey, and she described the evening as giving her "a second travel wind". Delicious food, fabulous company, and great to be somewhere that wasn't infiltrated with tourists for a more authentic experience.
A major focus of the last two days has been art. Yesterday, a trip to the Belvedere Palaces, both Upper and Lower Belvedere, filled my afternoon with works such as Klimt's "The Kiss" (the most famous work at the gallery) and "Adam and Eve", as well as works by Egon Schiele (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egon_Schiele), Renoir, Rodin, and many others. The "Character Heads" of Franz Xaver Messerschmidt also really stood out (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Xaver_Messerschmidt), particularly due to their uniqueness for the time period they were created in. At the "Lower Belevedere" palace, the featured exhibition was entitled "Sleeping Beauty", and the focal point was Frederic Leighton's famous "Flaming June": http://persephone.cps.unizar.es/~spd/Pre-Raphaelites/Big/FlamingJune.jpg.
Today, at the Leopold Museum in the famous "Museums Quartier", more Klimt and Schiele were the highlights (the world's largest collection of Schiele is found here). I was also introduced to the architecture of Joseph Maria Olbrich, and the overtly and unapologetically sexual works of Otto Muehl (not sure how some of these paintings would go over in a Canadian gallery). In addition to his vibrant paintings, the walls were covered in quotes from Muehl's various manifestos. Many were controversial, certainly, as aspects of his life have certainly been less than admirable. Many of his ideas were inspiring though, particularly with regards to the role that art has to play in society, and art's importance as an expressive medium. I also appreciated a display that integrated paintings of Klimt, Schiele, and Koloman Moser, with quotes and ideas from Freud, all contemporaries of one another. I left the museum feeling fully saturated, and I am really looking forward to a special exhibit of the works of Frida Kahlo tomorrow.
Yesterday, when not perusing Viennese art galleries, I found myself fighting with (and eventually throwing out) the umbrella that I had purchased just one day previously. I have heard that the weather at home has been sweltering. Well, yesterday it was 10 degrees and pouring rain in Vienna. Idealistic, I set out initially to do some sightseeing on foot, but quickly found myself sopping wet and drinking coffee in a lovely little cafe across the street from the opera house, watching other tourists fight with their respective cheap umbrellas, while I dried off a bit. I was thrilled to see the sun today, and went for a lovely jog this morning, before heading to the city centre and the art gallery. I am becoming quite accustomed to my morning subway trip into downtown from Michaela's apartment. The Viennese people truly have it going on when it comes to public transit - this is the most efficient and thorough system I have ever experienced, and apparently, the subway system here is renowned worldwide. Tonight, Michaela and I made a simple and yet delicious salad together (and she tried raw mushrooms for the first time - apparently this is quite unusual in these parts), drank wine, and did laundry. Tomorrow, I will smell good once again - such simple pleasures. :)
In these past 2 days since Sarah left, I have noticed my aversion to stillness, the habit I have of waking up with a "to-do" list for the day already running through my mind before I so much as open my eyes. Though I have no set schedule whatsoever and nearly 3 months still ahead of me, still I wake up worried that I won't see everything I want to see in the day. I seek to let go of this need to always be "doing" and this pressure I am apparently putting on myself to "see everything" and not to "waste time". There is some serious deconstruction of these ideas to be done, as I learn to just let each day unfold as it will, to remain in the present, and let this trip be whatever it is meant to be.
Yesterday, when looking for Couch Surfing options in Salzburg, I found a woman who lives 90km south of Salzburg, in the middle of the Alps. I messaged her on a whim, and cried when I got her response today. Hiking, mountain waterfalls, glaciers, and so on, are all close by to her little piece of paradise, 25km away from even the closest village. And, not only would she be thrilled to host me, but she will be in Salzburg on Monday, so will even drive me to her place, so that I don't need to figure out public transport to her home. Serendipity. I am loving Vienna, and am also excited that I will be spending some time next week away from car fumes, cigarette smoke, and city noise, hiking in the Alps. This is soo meant to be.
I have been re-reading Paulo Coelho's "The Alchemist", as it seems very fitting for this journey that I am finding myself on. My favourite quote from yesterday: "The boy felt jealous of the freedom of the wind, and saw that he could have the same freedom. There was nothing to hold him back except himself."
Filled with the knowledge that I was meant to be right here, right now...
And sending my love.
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