Travel Writing Blog 2: Gracias! I mean.. Gratzi?

Everything in Italy that is particularly elegant or grand borders upon insanity and absurdity or at least is reminiscent of childhood. - Alexander Herzen

If I never take another walking tour again in my entire life, it would be too soon. I have blisters on my blisters, and my feet haven't hurt this bad since I worked out 4 hours a day during volleyball and track season. You could say that I'm in a little bit of pain. Was this some form of Chinese water torture I hadn't heard about yet? Nevertheless, walking seemed to be the only mode of transportation to fully take in all the beauty and grandeur that is Italia. But trust me when I say that it is an extreme understatement that I should have listened to my mom when she thought I should pack at least one pair of "sensible walking shoes." Well played Mama Clay. Your wisdom outwits me once again.

We most certainly hit the ground running at the beginning of Baylor in Great Britain, or more affectionately known as BGB to Baylor business students. It literally felt like the moment we stepped off of the plane and onto solid ground, a walking tour awaited. Italians are in the best shape ever for two reasons: one, they walk EVERYWHERE; two, they suck on cigarettes like there's no tomorrow. Rome was the first leg of our soon-to-be many expeditions. When you think Italian history and culture, Rome should be at the forefront of your thoughts. If you've seen any type of Italian monument, sculpture, or painting on TV or in pictures, it's safe to bet it can be found in Rome. As oxymoronic as it sounds Rome was a lot more rundown than I had expected. Yes, I realize that the reason people visit the city of illusions and echoes is because of all the old historical monuments, but it was still surprising.

The first stop on The Great Walking Tour of 2011 was the Colosseum. The shear size of that building is enough to make you stop and awe in appreciation. Throw in the history of all the gory battles and deaths that occurred there, and you have something hauntingly spectacular. Thoughts of Russell Crowe and one of my personal all-time favorite movies "Gladiator" were all that encompassed my mind while we trekked around the massive structure. This is where I first learned that everything in Italy is one, and usually all, of three things:
1. Everything in Italy is suuuuuuper important. Not joking. Ask our tour guide Ingrid.
2. Everything is also covered in marble. I guess they got a discount somewhere.
3. Everything is super old. Like this one rock we saw was about 200 years older than our country.

Woo yeah Colosseum yeah!

After the Colosseum, we headed to the Roman Forum. Honestly, I had no idea what that was, and I'm still a little fuzzy about it now. I think it was where they held political things? Now it's just a bunch of old rocks. Ingrid kept saying "imagine this building here looking like this" but in reality we were all just trying not to pass out from heat stroke. Did I mention it's really hot in Italy? Because it totally is. Reminds of me home actually. Ah, memories.. After sweating out every ounce of water from our bodies, we headed on over to the Trevi Fountain. I thought it was interesting that it was a lot more closed in rather than a full circle, like most fountains are. Either way, I took my penny in my right hand and tossed it into the water over my left shoulder and made a wish (Italians really enjoy their odd customs too).

Tally and I like to throw coins into old fountains. No big.

The last stop of the day was the Pantheon. Not really sure what that was all about either, but it was still big, old, important and impressive just like the rest of Rome.

OH! I almost forgot to tell you about the Vatican!! It was nice.

Just kidding. It was breathtaking, majestic, and regal in every sense of the words. The detail was immaculate, but I've come to notice, Italians really appreciate exquisite minute details. I think that's what makes everything they build so special. I snuck a picture of the Sistine Chapel, but it was kinda blurry and not that great. I refused to get kicked out of one of the most holiest churches on earth though. That would make me look bad.

My sneaky picture of the Sistine Chapel. Told you it's nothing great.

Leaving Rome was sad, because I just got kind of somewhat sort of familiar with my surroundings, but there was more of Italy to be had. On the way to Florence, we stopped at a small Italian village called Assissi. This is the birth place and final resting place of Saint Francis. The Chapel of Assissi was pretty, just like every other church we had already seen, but the town itself was nothing short of picturesque. It lie on top of a hill overlooking the Tuscan countryside. The walk up to the center of the city was a daunting one, but well worth the effort. I now knew what it meant to  be under the Tuscan Sun.

Assisi was short-lived, as was most of Italy, but Florence was calling our name (as well as our wallets). The Italians definitely take pride in their food. Not only were their prices a little on the steep side, but you couldn't find a burger there if the Pope himself were to ask for one. I did, however, favor Florence over Rome overall. The landscape was a lot more serene, and the hustle and bustle of the city seemed to fade quietly within the walls of St. Peter's Basilica. Any place you stopped could have been a Kodak moment, and by the 600 new pictures I took there, I clearly proved that right. The most favorable gem I found in Florence (besides the smoking hot bod of the David) was the local market right across the square from where our hotel was situated. Shops lines the streets of Florence, inviting, almost taunting, you to not buy a delightful souvenir to take back to the states. I, too, fell victim to the alluring tents and now find myself the proud owner of a slightly overprice, yet beautiful nevertheless, original water color art. One souvenir down, 87 more to go.

St. Peter's Basilica

Our final stop in Italy was quite possible the most eloquent place I've ever been blessed to see. The town of Stresa, Italy, was nothing short of astonishing. It's hard to put into words how breath-taking these views were. If ever there was a place that resembled what heaven on earth looked like, Stresa succeeds it. The cascading hills that seamlessly blended into the clouds and skies and heavens had omnipresent steam rolling down from their peaks. The lake appeared as though it was glass, as though it hadn't yet been tainted by the touch of man. God has blessed this piece of land and water, the chills that continuously ran up my spine like someone had graced up against me were proof of that. Nothing about Stresa was ordinary. The boat ride we took going around the shorelines of the island gave a cool wind that was sharp, but didn't leave me feeling cold. Something out of the ordinary for someone as cold-natured and anemic as this girl. The The Hotel Grand Dino was almost as otherwordly as the island is was situated upon. Everywhere you looked was stained glass and colors so rich it wouldn't even satsify the sweetest tooth. Every experience was something I will truly take with me for the rest of my life.

View from the island Isla Bella in Stresa

Gardens at the Hotel Grand Dino

Inside the hotel. Fancy shmancy right?

I will say that while Italy was such a culture shock and good chance for me to break out of my comfort zone, I am pretty pumped about going back to a place where everyone speaks English. It's the little things like that which count. I guess I'm still just a simple ol' southern gal at heart. But with that I say..

Ciao, Italy! You've been great to my memories but awful to my diet. I'm more than ready for jolly old England slash London. Bring it.