There And Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale By Emily O'Brien

 Hullo,

So I guess I did decide to do one final blog to sum up everything and explain the journey home. It was, to say the least, quite long. And I guess we can talk about me being home because that's also strange.

Our adventure begins one bright sunshiney morning in Venice. Our heroes, Katie and Emily awake early in order to venture out to the mystical land that is The Airport.

One second. I can't write this in third person or I'll go crazy. Let's begin again, shall we? So we woke up early and I took a shower because I knew I wouldn't have another opportunity to be clean until I reached America. One shower later, we headed out to get breakfast, where I performed a flawless execution of ordering my food. Obviously.

Me: Un cappuccino y un ............ donut.

Despite my ordering techniques, I got what I wanted so it all worked out. Katie and I ate pretty quickly before leaving to find an ATM. I had hoped I wouldn't have to withdraw any more cash, but that was incredibly wishful thinking. Being a few euros poorer, we went back to the hostel to check out, collect our stuff and hit the road again. We made it to the water-bus which took us to the airport. It was a rather lengthy ride, but pleasant because Venice is great. Even with the long ride, we made it with a lot of time before our respective flights because I plan on never missing a flight ever again. Should it happen, I will cry all of the tears and my heart will be shattered from distress and will be broken for eternity. So no more missing flights.

Katie's flight left before mine and she learned about her gate and check-in spot well in advance of me. Although we had been hoping to go through security together, it wasn't possible so we said our farewells and parted ways. It was sad to split up because it truly marked the end of my adventure and saying goodbye to an excellent travel companion.

I'm already bored with my traveling. My apologies because it must be even less interesting for you. After we split up, I found out where to check-in and went through security and all that jazz. My flight from Venice to Madrid had an hour long lay-over in Barcelona, the only dicey part of Day One because I had to get my second ticket when I made it there. It was an uneventful trip to Madrid other than that.

I have become quite familiar with the Madrid-Barajas Airport, so I had decided to sleep overnight there before my flight back to the States the next morning. Great plan (sarcasm hand raised). You may recall a couple of posts ago where I was going insane. That was the overnight-in-the-Madrid portion of the trip. I got an overpriced dinner and started looking for wi-fi to help pass the night. I could've paid for it but I was done with spending money so I wrote my new blog post. And read. And played free-cell. And hearts. Somewhere between three and four in the morning I decided that sleep was unimportant. Or something that stupid. I don't know what possessed me to stay up the entire night, but stay up the entire night I did. (Yoda.)

I spent too much time in my head and the coffee I had at six fueled me with energy and crazy. Because my flight was at 10:25 AM, I started looking for my check-in place at 7ish. The Boy Scouts and I now have the same motto: Be prepared and don't be the idiot you goes to Asia and gets stuck on the wrong continent. That's right, right? I had a brief heart attack when one of the employees couldn't find me in the system. Frantically, I called my mommyface, bought half an hour of internet access and found my flight confirmation because hell if I get stuck in the airport another day. Luckily, it all worked out because we are all well aware of the fact that my heart is rather fragile in regards to Missing The Flights.

After making it through security, I ended up being one of the lucky people who also gets searched randomly. Though this is against my principles (Don't touch my stuff. It's where it belongs), I did get to talk to one the guards in Spanish which was already strange after not speaking it for two weeks. The bigger issue, though, was the fact that I had a ton of dirty clothes in my backpack and didn't want the guy to pull out everything. Or look at it. Because, hey airport, look at my underwear. Yeeeeaaaah. I wasn't about that life so much.

After my backpack had been put into order, I began more of the sitting. And waiting. And getting on the plane. I was actually really excited about this plane on account of each seat had their own tiny touchscreen TV so I could choose what music or movies or TV shows to watch and change them at will. True power, my friends. Thankfully, the little screen kept me entertained because I couldn't fall asleep. The flight was really long (9 hours? 10 hours?) and I was unable to be unconscious for any of it. That's right. I stayed up the entire night and was still not successful in sleeping on the plane. What is life?

I eventually landed in Atlanta and went through customs and I got a stamp. I had been worried about this (customs, not the stamp), but I really shouldn't have been because I guess I made it through. I mean, I'm here. I began the more waiting in a place where everything was in ENGLISH. Whut.

Let's speed this up a little. I got on the plane from Minneapolis and was ecstatic to find I was in the middle seat. This plane was less cool than the last one due to no tiny TV and the two-ish hours it took to get to the cities was forever. BUT THEN I SAW MY MOMMY AT THE BAGGAGE CLAIM. Excitement! She informed me we were heading to campus to pick up Tom after his final so I got reunited with the U as well. Surprisingly, I was dressed way too warmly for this adventure because it was over 90 degrees and sweatpants are, apparently, not the thing to wear in this weather. Who knew? By the time we actually made it home, "unpacked," and I caught up with my sister and DAD, I had been awake too long.

The Numbers

Hours Awake: 44

Airports to Get Home: 5

Miles Traveled: Too Damn Many

Seeing the Family: Priceless

It took me a few days to recover from jet-lag because naps always seemed like a good idea and waking up too early. (6 AM: Whyyyyy?) Also there were a few bizarre experiences, including drinking my first glass of milk in four months. Weird. And hanging out with my friends who I hadn't seen in that long. And sharing a car with my siblings. And having my room. WHICH HAS CARPET. (There was too much excitement for the last one.)

Originally, I wrote this blog so I wouldn't actually have to explain all of my adventures to everyone. I guarantee this plan has backfired because I spent a good deal of time fielding a variety of....interesting questions from some members of my family. (You know who you are.)

Questions Already Asked

Did any part of your trip remind you of Lady & the Tramp?

Did they sing to you on the gondola?
Really?

What songs did they sing?

Did you see anyone catch any fish?
What kind?

You might be able to imagine others. Maybe you'll  be the next one to ask me one that could potentially make the crazy list. (If it's about fish, congratulations, you'll make the list.)

FINAL CONCLUSIONS

Travel makes you grateful for people. I appreciate all the strangers who helped me out, however big or small this was. I joked with Katie that if I ever one some big award, I would thank the people who carried my suitcase across Europe and no one else. But seriously. People are great. Sometimes. Let's not get crazy.

More on the people situation: I met people who are awesome and I had a great time just being around them because no one had time to play games and put on a facade. Company, it seems, makes travel better.

I found out a lot about myelf. I feel more confident in my ability to navigate the uncertain because shizz happens. Conditions aren't always great and how I reacted to this helped me gauge who I am. Travel measured me, if that makes sense.

Shit happens. I remember saying I expected things to go wrong. But really, I didn't expect them to go as wrong as they did until it happened. The worst experiences (and best) are the unexpected.

I changed. (Granted, everything changes given time. But that is obviously beside the point.) It's like some things in me shifted and lined up slightly differently than they did before. It might be just internal. I might be the only one who notices, but what does that matter? I can feel it.

I do the same poses in all of my pictures. I really need to work on this for my future on the red carpet so I can accept my award and thank the random people who helped me with my damn suitcase.

Don't say goodbyes. I don't like 'em. Just leave. And probably don't look back (Your call).

THE MOST IMPORTANT LIFE ADVICE I WILL EVER GIVE: Pack lightly.

So there you have it, folks. I came. I saw. I sort of conquered. This actually be my last (planned) blog because otherwise I would only be saying, "And then I worked for eight hours. And then I took a nap." Literally, that is my life now, so I doubt it would cause much interest. Surprisingly, I actually liked blogging and would be willing to do more in the future. If something crazy happens to me like I win the lottery or I inherit a lightsaber, then you might hear from me. So possibly some sporadic blogging. But, for now we must part ways.

Like I said, no goodbyes.

Mama Mia! That's an Italian Journey!

Hey guys! I'm back!

So I already know it is going to be hard to fit the essence of my trip to Italy into a blog post, but I'll try my best. If you didn't know, I decided to visit my friend, Isaac, in Bolonia (the Spanish spelling of the city) this past weekend. Prior to going there, I knew absolutely nothing about the city except that it was north of Rome. That was all.

I'm going to skip all descriptions of the traveling because it's A) not very interesting and B) a way to romanticize my trip. It's easy to list all the inconveniences, and say they just made my time in Italy better because I knew what something un-fun was like, so it had to have made me realize just how great Italy was. In reality, I would rather not have to deal with the traveling because it doesn't do any of the things we lie and say it does. Okay, enough bitterness for one post.

The Two Towers

I'm going to preface the actual descriptions of my trip with this: I'm beginning to realize places are just places. This isn't to say I dislike traveling and seeing and trying new things because I actually really like them. And I would go back to Italy (or Paris or Portugal) in a moment if I was given the opportunity. This trip, more than the others, made me realize the differences between the greatness of places and the greatness of people though. I was visiting a city more because my friend lives there rather than it was the city I super-duper wanted to go to. If it was simply for a city, Rome or Venice would've been my first choices. But in terms of how my weekend would've been, I think it would've been incredibly different, and I wouldn't have understood how people can make my life way more than seeing a beautiful city. (If you are reading this Isaac, don't think you're that cool. You aren't even The Man.)

Now we can get to the things we actual did over the weekend. For lunch on Friday we ate delicious (and cheap) Italian pizza.

An Ode to America

America, you can't have nice things because you ruin nice things.

 You  have destroyed the food of the Italians.

They call your coffee "dirty water"

and I'm inclined to agree.

Your pizza is not real pizza because how did you screw it up so much?

Olive Garden is a sham.

How could you, America?

Sorry, I got a little carried away. I have eaten probably the best food of my life this past weekend (That was the first thing I said when asked about my trip) so I'm a little annoyed at the American idea that a lot of food = good food. I've done some basic calculations (math major) and realized that is utterly ridiculous. I might go live in Italy just for the food.

Anyway, after our huge, delicious pizza (A full pizza for four euros? Yes, please) we toured some of the city center. Isaac was probably the least helpful tour guide. A small sample of his skills:

Me: Isaac, what is that castle thing?

Isaac: I don't know it's name, so it can't be that important.

Isaac: There was something going down, so they built this. Then something happened.

For the most part, it was a hilarious tour by someone who was incompetent in directions (Although it takes one to know one) and constantly had to call "his people" for things to do and places to eat. Which led to us getting sort of lost and just meandering through the city, which was fine by me. Because I didn't have any expectations of the trip, we didn't have a set schedule and it led to a pretty relaxing trip, unlike Paris where we wanted to see everything. It was a really nice change of pace. We headed to a market because "Women like those" (Always trying to get a rise out of me....I can't count the times I told Isaac I was going to punch him) and then went to a park. It had some pretty cool mythological statues which also led to hilarity. There was a carved mural nearby, where some of the figures had missing heads, and almost in reaction, some of the people had super surprised expressions. 

Part of the Tour de Isaac

After our tour of the city we headed back to Isaac's apartment, where I met some of his roommates. In Italy, students go back home for the weekend so I only really ended up talking to one of them for a long time. It was both interesting and tiring because he spoke in a mixture of Italian and English. I could understand a little of the Italian, but it was like having a really fuzzy radio and only being able to catch a few of the sentences. After the three of us talking, I felt like I had an extremely broken translator in my head. But it was worth it. Later, Lori (Lore, Lorrie....? How do you spell an Italian nickname?!?) left and Isaac and I "made dinner." Basically, we boiled water for pasta and heated up a sauce. Which was good, but didn't come close to our meal for lunch.  Because Isaac's apartment is sort of outside the city, we decided just to stay in and watch the only movie they had in the apartment. Which we proceeded to make fun of because the plot line left something to be desired. After, we stayed up and talked to catch up on the Life of Studying Abroad and a bunch of things we noticed and saw changing about ourselves because we decided to Leave America for a while. Then it was time for the sleeping because we were both tuckered out from our long day.

Cathedral

Saturday, we slept in and then went wandering around the city again.  We went wandering around for a while, trying to find a park which we eventually did. Huzzah! It was an extremely beautiful day out which made this an excellent decision. Our walk to the park left something to be desired and by the end I was pretty sure Isaac was trying to show me the most boring parts of Italy. He found this pretty funny because everyone apparently sees the prettiest parts. After the park, there was another call to "his people" to find a restaurant. His people really pulled through and told us about a really great place to eat.  We had to wait a little while for a table so, we headed out to one of the main streets that is closed to traffic on weekends.  We went to an amazing cathedral, which was so different from the bustle of the streets and Isaac's words on the church were it "settles a stillness in you."  Can more people talk like this please? 

We went back to the restaurant and the pasta we had was superb. I had um....tortellini with ricotta cheese and sage and butter (I think....) and after that we got chocolate and something-with-chocolate gelato. I never want to eat American food again. Then, because we had to work off the carbs (or something), we went on a mini-pilgrimage to the church of San Luca at the top of a giant hill. The entire way was covered, and there were a bunch of arches to go through to get to the top. Each was numbered so you knew how far you had gone. I almost died from a heart attack because stairs are against my principles. Realizing this, Isaac had more opportunities to tease me and say we had a lot farther to go then we actually did (There are 658 arches, not 2000, you liar!) The vies from the top was incredible because you could see the entire city and the church was gorgeous. It was super different from those in Spain because it wasn't a Gothic church and therefore looked more friendly. We had timed it so we could watch the sunset from on the hill and (attempt) to take pictures of it. My camera dislikes me, so my sunset photos didn't work. Le sigh.

After going back down (much better than up) we went looking for a supermarket to buy groceries for dinner. We only found little stores that sold fruit for a long time, and Isaac kept talking about if he had a supermarket he would call it the "Sell your Soul Supermarket" so that's the kind of store we looked for:

"That looks like a place you could sell your soul. Let's go there!"

Honestly.... After, we waited for a long time for a bus but they didn't like us. Isaac told me sometimes the people who drive buses will go on strike for something like eight hours just because they can. In the end, we started walking back and got a long, long way before we saw another bus. We ended up running to catch it, which is also against my principles. When we got back to the apartment, we ended up making pasta again: green olives, tomatoes, bacon and onions make a really good sauce.

We ended up just relaxing at the apartment for the rest of the night because I was real tired out from our pilgrimage to San Luca.

The next morning, I met one of Isaac's other roommates, Joe (Short for Giovanni, so I'm sure it is spelled differently. Oh well) who was incredibly nice. I had the same I-can-sort-of-understand-a-little-Italian experience, so Joe was able to speak in a mix of Italian and English. He made Isaac and me coffee, and Italian coffee is fantastic. (Why, America? Why?)

Isaac suggested we go to an Italian mass and, even though I understood next to nothing (Like I knew when they were saying the Our Father) it was an enlightening experience. And the church was, once again, beautiful. We had more Italian pizza (<3) for lunch and then it was time for me to go on my way. I'm going to skip the actual traveling part again (Because who actually cares? I lived it and I don't...). I was super tired when I got back, so I took a shower and went straight to bed. Which was a mistake.

A 3:41 AM Conversation

[Ringing phone. Instead of answering, girl assumes it's her alarm and presses the 'END CALL' button. Realizing her mistake,she tries to listen to the message that was left but the instructions are too fast in Spanish and it is too late for her to understand. She decides to figure it out tomorrow. The phone rings again. This time she answers.]

GIRL: [in sleepy voice] Hullo?

WOMAN'S VOICE: Emily? Is that you?

G: [still in sleepy voice] Yeah. Whuddo....What's happening Mom? It's 4 in the morning...

WV: I just wanted to make sure you got back alright. You didn't email me back or message me...I was worried! You didn't give me the right phone number. It has a 5-8 at the end.

G: [Confused, unintelligible grumbling for a few seconds] M'kay. I just was tired and went to bed when I got back. I messaged Claire. [In expressionless, sleepy voice] I'm mad at you.

WV: What? Why?

G: [Sleepily, slightly confused] You woke...me...up... I'm mad at you.

WV: [laughs] Okay. Love you.

G: [Gives up having any energy for the conversation] Love you too. I'm mad at you. Goodnight.

[Girl promptly falls back asleep, unsure who she might be mad at or why. The confusion goes away as she drifts off.]

Life lesson #54: Always tell your Mams when you get back in the country.

On a related note: I will be seeing said Mams and my little hermanita this coming Thursday! I'm SOOOO EXCITED. There. Are. No. Words.

I may not update next weekend due this and more traveling; I'm not sure if I'll bring my computer. We shall see. So don't be super surprised if nothing is up next weekend.

Adios until next time!

I See Dead People. (And Snow!)

Hello Everyone!

Ellen and me

I’ve heard all my adoring fans are impatient and excited for a new update (i.e. my mom was wondering why  she didn’t get one earlier). So here it goes, Mom.

Classes are progressing, and my Spanish is getting better. I’ve already got midterms in two weeks (Eeeep!) so that’s a little intimidating. For my art in Toledo class, we visited a synagog that was built in the 14th century, which reminds me of how old everything is here. It’s fascinating to think about how many people have gone through these places and all the time that has passed. It blows my mind just to think about it.

Outside El Escorial

We also went to El Escorial, a palace (Or castle? I’m not sure what the difference is) a little north of Madrid. Because I’m weird and enjoy car rides (or non-public transportation rides that don’t involve planes), the two hour bus ride was actually enjoyable. When we got there, it was clear the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Actually, I should clarify. We had gone up into the mountain-ish area more, so it was a LOT colder. It even "snowed" which thrilled all the Puerto Rican students who had never seen snow. Even so this wasn't really so cold by Minnesota standards, but by I’ve Gotten Pathetic standards it was less than ideal. Also the entire place was made out of stone and used to be a summer palace for the royal family, so it wasn’t exactly made to be warm in the winter. I guess the world is not a wish-granting factory.

In any case, both the scenery and castle (palace?) were beautiful. El Escorial was less....gold-must-be-everywhere than El Palacio Real, but that didn't take away from any of the beauty. The first hall we were in was impressively large, the highest part of the dome was the height of a soccer field and the area was at least that big. We couldn't take pictures of the interior (*le sigh*) so no pictures again. There were a couple parts of the palace that were my absolute favorites:

El Escorial

1) The Tombs. We got to see the place where all of the Spanish kings have been buried, along with other members of the royal family. This had as much gold and marble and whatnot you'd expect to find in a royal burial chamber.

  

2) THE LIBRARY. I wanted to steal it all. I even broke the No Pictures rule and whipped my camera out of my pocket, aimed wildly and snapped a photo as subtly as I could (Read as very unsubtly). Now this photo turned out about as good as you would expect a wildly aimed picture to turn out, so it unfortunately didn't make it onto this blog. You cannot be more distressed than I am. The library was absolutely breath-taking, and I wanted all of it. The ceiling was painted with different Important People of various subjects such as  theology and geometry and philosophy. And books! And globes! And this one globe-universe thing that portrayed the Earth as the center of the universe. Ah, 16th Century, trying to be all science-y.

My friends and me dressed as Americans

This weekend was also El Carnaval, which is a pre-Lent celebration which was great. It's closest to Halloween in terms of American holidays, so we got to dress up in costumes! Naturally, we went as Americans after finding American flag headbands. We all dressed up in red, white and blue to represent the good ole US of A. Other highlights of this weekend include me taking a "Chupito Fuerte" which is a flaming shot. On fire. 

I swear I'm a responsible adult.

Abrazos y besos,

Emily

(Hugs & Kisses)