My Bologna has a first name...

A couple items worth noting:

1. I promise I change my clothes each day, contrary to what my pictures seem to show. My green North Face jacket has gotten more action than I ever hoped it would while living in “sunny” Italy. I’ve actually gotten to the point where I take off the jacket before taking a picture so when I look back on these pictures, it doesn’t look like I wore the same thing for four months straight.

2. My laptop keyboard has been broken for the last month, so if you think I’ve been ignoring your emails, g-chats, etc. I promise it’s not only you. I finally got it fixed after having an Italian Dell tech guy completely replace the keyboard. Word of wisdom for any of you future Dell buyers: buy the extended warranty and extra service plan. I had a next-day service agreement that managed to have the thing fixed in less than 24 hours of submitting the service request. Nice.

After an all too short break from living out of a suitcase, I packed up again and headed out to see the marvels of northern Italy. Per our usual spontaneous method of traveling with our studio professor, we departed early with no clue what cities we would see that day before arriving in Bologna for the night. Naturally, the Oscar Meyer wiener song went through my head every time someone mentioned Bologna. The next thought was “Mmm. Bologna sandwiches: white bread, mayonnaise, and processed meat. Yum.” No really, I like bologna sandwiches…mostly for the mayonnaise.

We arrived in Arezzo first, stopping to see the steeply sloped piazza. Typically, you don’t see many sloping public spaces, but this one was particularly interesting and successful. It had this really cool arcaded loggia on one side of the square which provided really neat outdoor seating for the cafes and restaurants in the building.

Next, we made a quick stop in Poppi where Robert and I made lots of Seinfeld jokes about Poppi: “Poppi was a little sloppy” and “It was the POPPI seeds!” Even though we don’t have TBS to watch the same episodes over and over again here, Seinfeld still lives within us…

We made a few short stops in Stia and Ferrara where we fought the rain and I stayed under cover as much as possible, which obviously limits how much one can learn about a city when the hood of your jacket might as well be blinders like they put on horses or the cones they put on dogs. Robert has had the brilliant idea of wearing an umbrella hat since the first rain we saw in Rome. I am not sure if I would be seen with him walking around sportin’ an umbrella hat. Oh, who am I to judge? I should be glad he still walks around with me and my giant out-of-control (double O-C, as I like to say) hair, since I haven’t managed to find anything remotely close to my normal hair products. You know this hair requires hair products…a lot of ‘em…and the right ones. Oh, here’s an idea…I should wear an umbrella hat to cover up this fro! But, I digress…

We finally made it to Bologna where we walked under the amazing sidewalk loggias for the extent of the city. I don’t quite understand how a city with ancient origins adopts a “code” that says something like “all buildings shall encroach into the sidewalk and provide a covered walkway.” Regardless, it was a novel idea that I would have appreciated more had it actually been raining there, like it did the majority of our trip.

The following day we drove toward Venice and stopped to see one of Palladio’s villas, Malcontenta, which was apparently just long enough of a stop to make us miss the ferry over to Venice. This was the first of many frustrating moments I had in Venice. After driving across the causeway (a much less glamorous way of approaching the islands), we parked the van and drug our suitcases down to the dock of the water taxi. This is when I realized I would never be able afford anything in Venice. A one way trip on the only public transportation system was 6.50 euro…so a little less than $10 per person! After an all too heated debate with our professor over whether or not we should drag our rolling suitcases clear across Venice to avoid this rip-off, my lazy butt and the rest of my class decided it was indeed worth the money to not have to lug our luggage through a city we didn’t know: one that does not have streets for cars (therefore no vehicle-taxis) and one that had an arched bridge over a canal about every 100 feet. I was not interested in fighting the swarms of people in the tiny winding streets with my giant packed-for-11-days suitcase. My professor, however, was. He left us. He left us with our Italian driver whom we cannot communicate with at all. Our driver had to navigate our way through the city, and this city is one of the hardest places to figure out that I’ve ever visited. Maybe I was being a little too petulant (like my sister J ), but I thought this was a little ridiculous. The rest of Venice was beautiful, interesting, and EXPENSIVE! I was dying for a coke one day, but all I could find were cans for no less than 2 euro. Yep, a can of coke in Venice costs $3+. A can of coke in the land of coke, where I come from, cost maybe 50 cents. Ahh Atlanta…I miss you for your sweet, delicious coke products [insert shout out to Mayson here].

I bought a pedometer several weeks ago because I was so interested in how far I’ve been walking. Well, I racked up the most steps yet in Venice…over 23,000 in one day. They say (my Mom would say, “who’s they” here) that we all need about 10,000 each day to be healthy. Although I haven’t done the exact calculations, I think I probably average about 15,000 each day. I think I’m doing ok. Factor in the large amounts of cheese, pasta, and wine I consume, and maybe I need to pick up the pace.

I mention the pedometer because when we left the hotel in Venice to make our way back to the parked van completely across the city, we lost the battle with our professor to take the water taxi. We had to walk…with our luggage after days of walking record amounts. Let me paint a picture for you of this scene.

Professor: “It’s an amaaaazing walk. It’s not that far.” (amaaaazing is his favorite word)

Students: “Aren’t there several bridges (arching bridges…with steps) that we will have to climb with all our stuff?”

Professor: “Yeah, but there’s only about 2, 3, 4, or 5.” (He literally counted like that.)

Students: “Urgh.”

I took note of the amount of steps that were current on my pedometer. Almost 5,000 steps, 1.25 hours, and 11 bridges later we arrived at the van. THIS is when I was dying for a cold coke…or even better, a col’ beer. When we got back to Rome, I googlemapped the route we took. Do you wanna know how far I drug a 35 lb. suitcase through Venice fighting crowds and exhaustion? 1.8 miles! I was beat. Word of advice: cough up the 6.50 euro and take the boat. It will make your stay in Venice much more pleasant, I bet. I sound like a brat complaining about Venice, but by the time we made it back to the car, JiYeon and I, the self-proclaimed new-urbanists, were screaming, “Pave over the canals! Bring in the semis! Bring in the SUV’s! We want cars!!!”

After Venice we drove to Padua, and after arriving late, we had dinner and took a quick night walk before we nearly froze to death. This was a common theme for this whole trip. There are so many things I would have liked to have sketched in some of these fantastic cities, but because of the cold, I often traded a sketch for a hot cappuccino. So, by the end of the day, I was shaking from both the cold and the caffeine.

We left Padua early the next morning for Vicenza, home of many amazing Palladian villas, palazzos, and public buildings. Too bad our professor didn’t plan very well, and we went to Vicenza the only day of the week when most of these awesome buildings that I’ve studied since going to architecture school were not open [bitterness]. Again, this was a moment of frustration because it seemed ridiculous to go to a city to not be able to enter any of the buildings. Oh well…at least the exteriors and public spaces were amazing enough to keep me occupied and amused all afternoon. The main piazza has an incredible basilica by Palladio in which he wrapped a classical portico around existing medieval fabric buildings to make one large unified building. At least I could see that one…

Next we went to Verona…Romeo, oh Romeo…where for art thou Romeo? Yes, Verona is the home to the Montagues and Capulets. Just outside of the fictional “Juliette balcony” is an incredible outdoor market where I, again, stood in until near frostbite. I got the idea here to “shop” to warm up so I don’t always have to buy a coffee in order to, in a sense, buy their heating. So, I started to pretend to shop in stores I couldn’t afford (which is just about everything these days) in order to thaw. I am, however, up to date on the latest Lacoste trends. Ha.

While I was thawing out in Lacoste, all of middle Italy was getting snow dumped on it…and guess where we were driving after we left Verona that afternoon…straight into the snow. This weather caused us to skip Mantua and sent us straight to Lucca where we took another cold night walk before ducking in a local-flavor restaurant for dinner. Did I say “flavor” to describe Tuscan food? Yes, I did. The food in Tuscany is wonderful…with the exception of one thing: the bread. For some reason, Tuscans don’t use salt in their bread. I mean…what’s the point? This led me to search for the butter on the table to no avail. Oh well…if their bread is the only bad thing they do, then so be it.

We stopped by Pisa to take the obligatory “Lean on the Tower” picture and walk around the church, baptistery, mausoleum, and tower. That was about it. If you ever go to Pisa, don’t expect much more than that. It’s great and all, but the rest of Pisa is, well…boring.

Florence, although cold and rainy (Duh. That description has become too repetitive, right?), lived up to the reputation of Tuscan-food as well and was anything but bland (except, of course, the bread). We ate dinner at a restaurant near the leather market called MammaMia that I swear served the best ravioli I’ve ever had…and I’ve had my fair share of ravioli. In my childhood house Chef Boyardee was a staple…we loved that stuff. But, wow. This tomato and cream sauce must have had crack in it or something. It was that good, and it has me wanting to go back to Florence just for some more saucy sauce. As I mentioned, the leather market in Florence is amazing. Although I didn’t buy anything except a pair of warm gloves (gotta prepare for next winter in South Bend, too), I wanted to buy about 5 handbags. I’ve been told it really is authentic leather. If it’s not, I was easily fooled. If you ever make it to the Florence leather market be sure to bargain with them. They love it, and most of the time (I hear) you can knock off a pretty penny, or euro, in this case.

The rest of Florence was amazing. The Florence Cathedral with the famous Brunelleschi dome was more incredible in person than I could imagine. It’s mass, colors, and geometric ornamentation were mind boggling. I still don’t understand how a dome can possibly be that huge and that self-supporting…and that old. Built in the first half of the 15^th century, the dome was incredibly inventive for its time. Today, visitors can climb all the way to the top through the double shell. We didn’t get to do this because of lack of time and the bad weather (it doesn’t make sense to climb all those narrow steps to have fog and rain block any view out), but I am hoping to go back before I leave Italy to make the climb…

After bidding adieu to Florence, one of my all-time favorites, we stopped in Siena for one last night of travel before returning to Rome and the usual deadlines, reading assignments, and piles of laundry. Ah, Siena, how I do love thee. What an amazing city! After my brief obsession with the hill-town of Assisi, I think I am now turning my urban fixation to this hill-town, comprised of three separate hills that join at a center saddle, where the central public space is located. The Campo, which literally means field, is quite amazing because it is sloping towards the city hall and a ridiculously tall medieval tower. This creates a space that people can linger in on foot or sidewalk cafes, but also on their butts…it’s sloped enough that you can sit down, as if you are in a theater, and observe all the activity. The day we had in Siena was the most gorgeous of the 11 day trip, and was also the day of a huge outdoor market in the Campo. Local merchants were selling fresh pastas, sauces, cheeses, meats, art, jewelry, antiques, and numerous other practical items. It was such a stark contrast to how we saw the campo the night before on our way to dinner – pretty empty of people, but full of architectural character. That day, the architecture played the perfect backdrop, while the hundreds of people were the characters…much like a play. Robert and I climbed the tower and saw some of the most breathtaking views of Tuscany. The rolling hills and untouched landscape past the city (unlike American cities where the edges of cities are indistinguishable because of sprawl) were green and gave me hope that spring is on its way!

Hopefully this means that I can retire my green jacket for the semester and enjoy the warm Italian sun the rest of my days here…as they dwindle…

Since it has taken me almost two weeks to finish this post, I think I better stop typing. If you made it to this point, God bless you. My guess is you are bored at work…J

Recipe: Sicilian Chickpea Medley

2 Tblsp olive oil

1 onion
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
2 cups carrots, chopped
1 cup white wine
fresh ground pepper

-saute all together until carrots are soft

-add the following ingredients to the above mixture and cook through
1 head of escarole (chicory, bokchoy, or similar), pulled into pieces
1 cup raisins
2 cans chickpeas, drained
1-2 cups vegetable stock, as needed

1-2 cups small farfalle pasta ("farfalline") (or similar)
-boil pasta, drain, and add to the above mixture at the very end.
-stir/mix together, heat through, and serve

Hope you enjoy!

Belgium: Where Umbrellas Go to Die

The people who gave Chicago the name “Windy City” have obviously never been to Belgium. The nine days my class spent in and around Flanders reminded me of the winds we got in Brunswick when hurricane Floyd was rolling through…Ok, I’m being dramatic, but seriously, the wind and rain we had to endure during the majority of our trip almost ruined it…

But…then there was the Belgian food that redeemed the Northern European cities. How do you say “delish” in Dutch? My guess is something that sounds like you said “delish” with peanut butter in your mouth. I’ll get back to the food, but first I’ll talk about the goal of the trip, which was to see good traditional architecture and urbanism. Oh yeah….that’s right…I almost forgot that’s what I came to Europe for after tasting the Belgian food.

This trip was much different than our other trips, mostly because we travelled with another professor: one who values long, yummy dinners and personal time more than my studio professor with whom we usually travel. Needless to say, this made the trip much more like a vacation and a break from our quick jaunts to multiple cities within a day.

The university arranged for our small group of six to stay in a quaint little house in Bruges for the entirety of our trip. Staying in a house rather than a hotel allowed us to stay in and cook group meals a few nights, which always helps with the bank account, but also exposed me to even more diverse meals within the 9 days. One night JiYeon and Huaxia cooked authentic Asian food. Another night Jenn and John (the married couple in my class) cooked a Sicilian Pasta/Vegetable dish that was delish (she gave me the recipe, so I might post it on here if any of you want to try something new). The night Robert and I volunteered to host satisfied a craving I’ve had since I left for Rome: Mexican. Yes, I was in Belgium cooking and eating Mexican food, but I couldn’t resist when I saw Old El Paso seasoning, salsa, and tortilla shells in the local grocery store. In case I haven’t stressed this, Italians are typically set in their ways and don’t sell other ethnic ingredients in their grocery stores, so it’s been difficult for me to cook anything but variations on pasta. All of you reading this probably know that cheese dip and burritos are somewhere at the top of my list of favorite food, so I made the group some super yummy fajitas with chicken and shrimp (which I bought at the local outdoor fish market that morning – hello freshness!). My stomach was happy. How did I just manage to write a really long paragraph about food but haven’t even begun to describe the Flemish food? I also realize I haven’t talked about the city yet.

Bruges is a city with medieval fabric that stood as the mercantile capital of Europe for centuries because of its location on the North Sea, or Nord Zee as the Flemish say, and along popular trade routes from England to southern European countries. Because of this commercial foundation, Bruges serves as a great link between the Roman medieval towns we’re seeing this semester and American cities. Ultimately, as an urban designer, I need to understand architectural typologies (church, town hall, house, etc.) and their relationship to urban spatial types (plaza, street, square, etc.), but I also need to experience how commercialism works within this framework of architecture and space. Hence the trip to Bruges…

Because the time we had in Bruges was about 15 times as much as we usually spend in one city on a field trip, we were able to do things that I would normally do on a vacation vs. a work trip (which is how our other trips have felt). We spent a lot of time in the several museums of the city, one of which had an exhibit on the history of the city. We also discovered that one can learn a great amount about urbanism and history just by studying the art in the public buildings. The Flemish Art was probably one of my favorite things about the trip. The Flemish Primitives, as they were dubbed because they worked before the geniuses of the Renaissance, were not so primitive. The realism and extreme talent expressed in the wax-based paintings were extraordinary. I was able to see one of the greatest known pieces of Flemish art when we took the train to Gent one day to see the Gent Altarpiece, aka Mystic Lamb or The Adoration of the Lamb by the Van Eyck brothers (14^th century geniuses).

The day after Gent, we took the train to Antwerp where we miserably walked around in the rain all day. We went to mass in the Cathedral (When you travel with a bunch of Catholics, you manage to go to church every week…which is never a bad thing. The only bad thing is that it’s always in Italian, so I pretty much don’t follow any of it except the stand up/sit down/stand up/sit down part.). Coming back to Bruges from Antwerp that night was like walking through an umbrella graveyard. As I experienced days before when trying to sketch in the large open market square in the rain, the wind is intense when it whips around the corners of the buildings. Robert, too, experienced the worst of the wind when he went through two cheap umbrellas within the week. Huaxia was the funniest when she bought an umbrella that said “I Heart Sun” only to realize the umbrella didn’t heart her as much as she hearts sun…it broke within 24 hours of her buying it. Watching her struggle with it, however, was one of the highlights of the gloomy day for me (Naturally, I laugh at other people’s misery. Yes, I realize this makes me a mean person and karma will get me). Apparently that day we were in Antwerp was one of the worst days for wind because I saw probably 30 contorted umbrellas in and around trash cans within the 10 minute walk to dinner. In case you don’t believe me, check out my Picasa album. J

In the few hours of clear skies we had on Thursday, we rented bikes and rode out to the small village of Damme along the canal from Bruges to the North Sea. This was so much fun! The tree-lined trails were really beautiful, and the little town had all the necessities of a city within a very short walk. In true character, I enjoyed the food we ate there just as much (if not more) as the architecture and urbanism. I ate a delicious savory crepe, which is like a French pancake stuffed with ham, corn, and tomatoes . The French and German influence is obvious in all of the food in Belgium. My professor took us out on the school two nights for nice meals, and mm, mm, mmm – I ate well. The cuisine is typically heavy and rich – meat and potatoes type dishes. As a girl from the south, and more importantly a Watson, this was right up my alley. I feasted on shrimp in a garlic cream sauce, followed by rib eye and potatoes al gratin, and topped it all off with a yummy chocolate mousse. I did mention the school was paying for this, right? J I can’t believe I haven’t brought up the wonderful Belgian Beer that I proceeded to drink at every opportunity. The beer is probably what brings non-architects to Belgium. It’s that good. Robert and I would have our own little beer tastings each night, trying them based on how cool their glasses were that went along with them. Belgians always drink their beer in a glass – always, and the glass is shaped for the aroma/style of beer. It made me feel pretty swanky, and I realized there isn’t a beer I don’t like. What does that say about me? Don’t judge.

Leaving Belgium was pretty sad because I had to say goodbye to a restful, tasty time to return to Rome (how dreadful, right? ;) ) only to do laundry, pack, and prepare for another long trip two days later to Veneto and Tuscany. I actually just got back to Rome from this 11 day trip, so as you can imagine, I haven’t had a lot of time to write this blog post between seeing amazing places like Piazza San Marco, the Florence Cathedral, and Palladian villas. More to come on that trip…stay tuned…