I Musei Britanici

Me in front of the Rosetta Stone... replica.

British Museum: lobby; Buddhist statue

Museum of Natural History: big-o-saur

So I did lots of museuming while I was in England (and yes, museuming is now a verb. I museum, you museum, she museums, etc.) Since Liz had class every morning, I was left to my own devices. So naturally, I took myself out on little morning-dates, all of which included Starbucks. I know it's gross, but they don't make portable, sip-able coffee in Italy. And also, because I'm both a cheap date and just cheap in general, I took myself to the free museums.

The first one was the British Museum, which was HUGE. It's probably around the same size as the Met, and definitely smaller than the Louvre, but I wasn't at all familiar with it. Perhaps that's why it felt bigger. There was a really odd mix of art too. Eastern religious art, Greek ruins, Mummies, Mexican prints, Islamic art, Ancient Mayan sculptures, and a room full of clocks. Just want to throw it out there that Mummies are creepy. I'm not afraid that they're going to come to life. I'm afraid that some day someone will think it's appropriate to put my dead body on display. I don't know. I just don't find it appropriate. Call me old fashioned, but I believe the dead should stay 6 feet under.

I also went to the Museum of Natural History. If there had been a museum like that near me when I was a kid, I would have been there every day. My inner child decided to play for an hour in the dinosaur exhibit. They even had a robotic T-Rex! The architecture was really cool too. Very Harry Potter. I just wanted to steal it. Oh, and they had this weird "the history of the earth" type exhibit (lofty no? trying to tell the entire history of earth?) And there was a statue that I believe she be retitled "Momma Yazge sans Her Morning Coffee". See below:

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Museuming" Yazge

Adesso, Inghilterra

Above: my wonderful hostesses... with the mostestes?

Below: my wonderful reaction to the Middle Eastern baked goods.

So I'm finally doing it. I'm going to talk about London. I've taken some time, reflected on it, talked about it with my therapist, and I think it's finally the right time to start sharing my experience with others. It's the last of the 12 steps to tourist recovery.

The day I got in, I split with my travel companions and headed off to Liz's apartment by Hyde Park. I was hungry, but Liz wasn't so much. To compromise, we went to high tea since it was around 4:00 anyway. For the record, I'm kind of upset no one has ever dragged me to high tea before. There's lots of tea, finger sandwiches, scones with clotted cream (oh, I'll get there), and tiramisu with other delicious chocolate desserts. What's not to love?! And it was only 12 pounds. Like, British Pounds... not American weight units. You get what I mean. But on to the clotted cream (I promised). Apparently it's made by condensing normal creme, and we all know how much I love normal creme. It gives butter a run for it's money.

That night Liz and her friend Sam had to go see a show, which was sold out. We grabbed some awesome Middle Eastern pastries (see photos above) and split ways. The girls went to their show, and I went to the pub across the street to watch the soccer match that was on instead. It was awesome. Think about what you imagine a London pub to be like during a soccer match, and then put me in the middle of it with a Guinness and a smile. That's exactly what it was like. AND I made a friend! We talked all about soccer, and what I should do while I was in London, and other places we both should travel. When we were talking about the US, he said he'd been to two places: Miami and.... wait for it... CINCINNATI. I was very confused, until he explained that he had friends that lived there. I mean, who doesn't love Cincinnati? It's like the Atlanta of Ohio, plus they have the Bengals - a football team that you can only feel pity for. But not exactly a tourist destination.

All in all, I was very happy with my first night in Londontown. Very swinging. Oh, and just so you all know, I haven't shaved in almost a week. I'm not going to shave until I've finished talking about London. I was inspired by my mountain man experience in Cinque Terre. Plus it'll really light a fire under me to finish writing about my fall break. This much scruff isn't a good look on me.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Mountain-faced" Yazge

Le Cinque Terre e il treno che non esiste

This is how stunningly gorgeous my yesterday was...

Cinque Terre is stunningly gorgeous. Not to be confused with Terre Haute, which looks like a butt. My apologies to everyone that still lives there. Terre Haute's motto is "A Level Above". My response: above what?

But I digress. I think in order for you to understand how fantastic Cinque Terre is, I should share some more photos. Then I'll discuss how much I hate Italian workers' unions and their ability to turn a two and a half hour return trip into an almost seven hour fiasco...

As you can see, I was very mountainous and victorious, while the Terre were very beautiful and stuff.

But yes, we were hit by the strikes. It's a good thing Jamie and I decided to stop at the train station before attempting to explore for a second day. The lady told us (all in Italian, which - I would still like to stress - we understood perfectly) that there was a strike and the only guaranteed train out of Cinque Terre was leaving in 15 minutes. That train was going in the direction we wanted, but not to Firenze. She also told us there was no guarantee we'd get a train out of the town that the train finally stopped in.

To make it easy on y'all, we spent a total of 7 hours in transit, and got on and off about 3 trains before finding one that actually left the station for home. Apparently the strike was called by some syndicate called L'Orso, or The Bear. I'm convinced they all got tired and stayed home. Here's how I envision this strike to have started:

Bad News Bear #1: Dude. I'm tired. Not hibernation tired, but significantly tired enough that I don't think I want to conduct a train today. I'd rather stay home and eat lots of honey.
Bad News Bear #2: Me either. We could phone in sick?
Bad News Bear #1: Come on. Bears don't get sick. When's the last time you saw a bear sneeze?
Bad News Bear #2: Good point.... Strike?
Bad News Bear #1: Strike.
Bad News Bear #2: I'll go tell the guys.

Who hires bears to drive trains anyway? Dumb.


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "The Bear-er of Bad News" Yazge

Cinque Terre!

Tucked between the mountains and the sea. That's where I'll be.

(hehe, that rhymed)

I'm getting so lax with writing on here! Ah! Mi dispiace. I'd like to say it's because I have too much of a life, and my busy social schedule is keeping me away from my computer. But we'd all know that'd be a bold-faced lie. On the bright side, thanks to the time difference, I can still post today and tomorrow even though I'm about to leave on an overnight trip to Cinque Terre! (Not Terre Haute, as evidenced in the picture above)

But Matt, what'd I do yesterday? I'm glad you asked. Nothing. And it was brilliant. I went for a nice run in the cold, and by nice I mean it made me very hungry for the rest of the day. I cleaned up around the apartment for a little bit; wrote some postcards; watched an the opera Don Carlo on campus; made some more pumpkin soup and spent the evening hanging out over at Hannah's place. With all the traveling I've been doing, days like yesterday are rare. Usually I'm up at the butt crack of dawn, trying to remember what I needed to pack the night before and making sure everyone else has their e-tickets and passports. It's so nice that we get to take the train to Cinque today.

So, I'll try to find something interesting in these next two days. You do the same, and we'll rendezvous here in 48 hours. Aaaaaand BREAK!

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "delle Terre" Yazge

Fiorentina ha vinto!!!

All he wants is a hug...

Last night we went to the Fiorentina game. It was a Champions League match against Debrecen? or Decebren? Or Excedrin? Some Hungarian team (that I'm sure my Romanian great-grandmother would spit on). The point is that last night was a huge game, because Fiorentina's win (which was huge, 5-2) put them just one point behind the group leader, Lyon. And we were there! Like, 20 feet off the field! We were less than five feet away from the players while they were doing warm-ups. It was awesome.

It's also worth noting that American pro-sports fans have NOTHING on the Europeans. The entire curve of the stadium was packed with fans dressed in purple, fans that never stopped chanting. They were all in perfect unison too. We were really confused as to how they were so in sync, until we saw that they literally had someone leading the cheers. A cheerleader if you will. He was standing up on one of the guardrails and yelling stuff out to them. There were flags, and scarves, and horns, and all other sorts of awesomeness. We all tried chanting along with them, but we didn't know the words. So we just bounced and clapped a lot. The Italians around us found that pretty amusing.

But the highlight of the evening was 16 minutes in, when I got to see Adrian Mutu (pictured above - midfielder for Fiorentina, striker for the Romanian National Team) score off a header. It was BEAUTIFUL. Perfectly timed, right into the back of the net. All he needs to do now is get the court to settle his pending breach of contract charges, and he's good as gold! Really, I don't care if he used cocaine. He's still my hero.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Fiorentino" Yazge

Pioggia Universale

What today was like...

I'm not ready to talk about London. I'm too lazy. But I thought I could channel the London aura and talk about the rain. You can tell my ability as a writer has diminished considerably when I'm stuck talking about the weather.

The day started with wet clothes. Before I even went outside. The washing machine hates me and my clothing, and has decided that it shouldn't spin dry my clothes at all. While I was in class, the cleaning people made my roommates take my clothes off the drying rack because they were dripping on the floor. Apparently the cleaners said that it would leak through to the apartment below us. For the record, that makes no sense at all, because our floors are tiled. So instead of questioning the flawed logic, my clothes ended up piled in the bottom of the shower, and then the sink. On the bright side, the sink had just been cleaned. Currently my clothes are undergoing their second wash in 24 hours.

All day it rained. On my walk to school. On my walk between buildings at school. During pilates. After pilates. By the by, there were only 3 of us at pilates today, which meant that the instructor could set her mat between us and correct us. Which means that I wasn't allowed to slack off, and my entire core is sore. I decided to go to the super market on my way home, and as I was making it from the store to my apartment, the clouds opened up and the heavens unleashed their fury on me. Baguettes aren't nearly as delicious when covered in rain water. Oh, and I found mussels on sale. Prize to the person that suggests the best recipe.

So now, to bring my day full circle, I need to go shower. Hope you're staying dry.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Water-logged" Yazge

La Gioconda

Mona.

So the Louvre was fun. We spent so much time there... even taking into consideration how crazy huge that museum is. I also took this picture of my lady Mona intentionally with lots of space around it. It stresses how small the painting actually is. And I'm calling her out. I don't think she's actually smiling. I'm convinced it's more of a grimace. She had a wedgie and couldn't fix it because she had to be still for the portrait. That's a much more believable story. Women weren't happy during the Renaissance. Feminine mystique? Phooey.

I really wish I had the energy or creativity to write anything more. Maybe tomorrow I'll move on to London?

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Giocondo" Yazge