Back in Chicagoland

Happy 4th of July!

So, yes, I have now been "home" for over a week. Quotations necessary because I haven't been here this long since the summer after freshman year. It feels pretty weird to be back.

The internship is good so far, and in a really nice location downtown. Conceptually, I now feel like I understand at least the downtown part of Chicago a lot better after seeing so many cities this year.

I guess for now I should try to pick up where I left off in narrating my solo travels before I forget the details.

I checked out of my hostel in Munich on Sunday morning and planned on visiting three museums before my afternoon train to Interlaken because the state museums are only 1 euro on Sunday mornings. My first stop was the Alte Pinakothek. I first made the unfortunate realization that because of an exhibit, admission was not 1 euro.

I made a much more unfortunate realization: my cell phone was not in my purse.

I tried not to be too worried about it and went into the museum.

The collection was pretty good. They had A LOT of Rubens paintings. The exhibit was recreating the cabinet of some count with all of its paintings. It was a kind of cool idea, but in my opinion not worth paying extra, especially because the descriptions were all in German only and most of the paintings by famous artists were not included.

My next stop was the Neue Pinakothek, whose collection includes classicism through art nouveau. I enjoyed it. I also went to the Pinakothek der Moderne, which has contemporary art. It is a large museum, also featuring design and architecture. I didn't see everything there because I wanted to take a look in the hostel to see if I could find my phone.

No one had turned a phone into the front desk, and they let me back into my room, but my cell phone was nowhere to be found. I'm pretty sure that I must have left it on my bed in the morning while I was trying to pack, and someone must have taken it. The phone only worked in Spain, so no one was going to be able to really use it in Germany. I suppose they could try to take out the SIM card. It was just really frustrating for me because I had been renting the phone in Spain, so I was losing the deposit on a very cheap phone that I had been paying a monthly fee to use all year. For what I paid, I could have bought that phone five times over. My record of never losing or breaking a cell phone has ended. It also made the last week of my trip trickier because I was primarily using it as an alarm clock.

I got on the first of my three trains from Munich to Interlaken. My first change was in Ulm. From Ulm to Basel, I was taking a tiny regional train. I was really pretty lucky to get a seat, as there were people standing the whole time. The train was late arriving in Basel, which, judging from the general discontent of the other passengers, is unusual even on regional trains in Germany. As the minutes went by I became more and more nervous because while I had 25 minutes to make the connection, the train to Basel was running over 20 minutes late. I ran for it and made it with little time to spare.

I was glad that I made my connection because as it was I was arriving in Interlaken at 10 p.m. Interlaken is a small town in the Jungfrau region of Switzerland that, as you may guess from the name, is between two lakes. The buses weren't running by the time I arrived, so I walked to the hostel. I stayed at the Interlaken Backpackers Villa, which was very nice. Compared to a lot of hostels, it really did feel like a villa. Included in the price of the hostel was bus travel and admission to a pool, which I probably would have taken advantage of if I had been there longer.

Monday morning I woke up and, even without my glasses on, I could see mountains under a cover of mist. I went out on my room's balcony and was rewarded with a spectacular view. I had a train to Milan that afternoon, so I didn't have that much time in Interlaken, which was unfortunate. Interlaken is the adventure sports capital of Europe, although I doubt I would have been too adventurous on my own. I decided to go for a hike.

My page from Let's Go Western Europe recommended two hikes. The first it described as the most popular, and easy...with hiking boots and poles, two things I did not have, so I opted for the second, flatter hike. I stopped at the grocery store to buy an extra bottle of water and some lunch and set out.

Everything I saw was absolutely gorgeous, clear blue lakes spread before green snow-capped mountains. I do kind of wished that maybe I had planned my partial day in Interlaken more and maybe taken the Jungfraujoch railway up to the highest rail station in Europe, but I enjoyed my day nonetheless. I never bothered taking out any Swiss money, but I had some because I made a purchase in euros and got that as change and found a coin on my bed in the hostel which luckily enabled me to use a locker for the day, so I spent what I had left on chocolate at the grocery store. Even the store brand of milk chocolate was REALLY good.

I had two small changes in Switzerland before boarding my train for Milan. The seating was all in compartments and the train just seemed really dirty and smelly, making me miss German trains.

In Milan for two nights, I was treating myself to my own room (Rick Steves' hostel was booked so I went for Let's Go's hotel) at Hotel Eva. It was nice, although I was nervous because the next morning was my pricey city tour that enabled me to see the Last Supper, which I absolutely could not miss. I had a really tasty dinner at Osteria Lazzaretto, the restaurant next door recommended at the hotel.

I then walked to the Piazza del Duomo. I had just wanted to see the cathedral at night, but I was in for a treat: the U.S.-Italy match of the Confederations Cup was being broadcast on a large screen in the plaza. I got some Grom gelato (I obviously looked up the address) and enjoyed the game and the ambiance, even if the U.S. lost.

Luckily, I woke up in plenty of time the next morning. I had to switch my online printout for a voucher at the TI, and I wasn't sure I was in the right place at first, but I was. The tour was very ambitious for what it covered in three hours...I would say they should either cut something out and go over things more or they should make it an hour or two longer and charge a little more. We started by touring the Duomo, then walking through the Galleria, where most of the high-end shops in Milan are located. All of the women in Milan are so well dressed and put together!

Next we visited the Scala Opera House, which never would have been on my to-do list, as I am not that big of an opera fan, but some of the other people enjoyed it more. We got to peek in from a glassed-in balcony at a rehearsal (it was the same production of Aida Kayleigh took me to see in Prague) and then went through the museum...which I found pretty dull.

Our next stop was Sforza Castle. We really only had enough time to peek at the exterior of the building to make our appointment to see the Last Supper. To care for the work, only 25 people with a reservation are allowed in at a time (perhaps thanks to Dan Brown, you need to make reservations many months in advance, so the tour was my only chance to see the work). First you show your ticket and enter one chamber. Then the door closes when everyone for that time slot has entered and at the other end the door to another chamber opens. From there, you enter the room where the painting is as the previous group exits, into another chamber with the same two-door system. What can I say about the Last Supper? Time has been cruel to the Last Supper, and of course there is the debate as to whether the last restoration was good or bad. What is left should be what is left of Leonardo da Vinci's original paint, but unfortunately not much is left. It was still incredible to see.

After that, the bus deposited us back in the Piazza del Duomo. I had some lunch and took the elevator the Duomo roof. Rick Steves promised that the experience would be one of the most memorable in Milan, and he did not lie. At this point, I have been on the top of a lot of cathedrals, both roofs and bell towers, and this one was particularly enjoyable.

My next stop was the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, which was an enjoyable art gallery surrounding a historic library. The highlight was probably Raphael's sketch for School of Athens. I want access to the library! At this point, even though I was in Northern Italy, the heat started getting to me. Not even Grom gelato was enough to cool me down.

Sforza Castle houses several unexciting museums which we had not been able to see that morning. The only real highlight was a Michelangelo Pieta. I shouldn't have spent so much time there, as I was probably just wearing myself out unnecessarily.

I also went to the Pinacoteca di Brera, which was much more enjoyable. The gallery's highlight for me was Mantegna's extremely foreshortened Dead Christ (I literally think I've seen that in the dictionary next to foreshortening. Literally). The gallery is attached to an art school, which means that the students can get hands-on experience restoring artworks. In one gallery, there was an interesting 20-minute English and Italian powerpoint presentation on the restoration of Raphael's Marriage of the Virgin. I sank into the guard's chair, enjoyed the presentation, and felt restored after sitting in the cool for a while when I was done. I was very disappointed in the bookshop though: no postcards of Mantegna, and no postcards of the full painting of Raphael. After learning that much about it, I was willing to buy an image, but none of the ones available were to my liking.

I went back to the hotel and packed a little before eating dinner at the same place. I also went to the Piazza del Duomo and got Grom gelato...for the third time in 24 hours. I would like to make a comment that contrary to what Rick Steves wrote, I did NOT find the Milan metro easy to use. At the Duomo and Milano Centrale stations, which were the stations I, and probably all tourists, used the most, there were a lot of exits but no signs telling you what street you were exiting to. Also, not all of the machines could sell single ride tickets.

My train to the Cinque Terre the next morning was pretty early. I took the train to La Spezia and then caught a local train through the Cinque Terre. The Cinque Terre are five gorgeous towns set on mountains overlooking the Ligurian Sea in the Italian Riviera. I was very much looking forward to this part of the trip. I checked into my hostel, Ostello 5 Terre in Manarola, my town, shortly after noon. That hostel might be my favorite I've stayed in this year, but it had some strange rules: there was a seven-hour room lockout from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., and the whole hostel closes from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m., which means no check-in. There was also a curfew, which really didn't bother me, and it was the first time I stayed in a hostel with actual tokens for the shower. You got five minutes of water, but the box was outside the shower, which meant you either put in the token in the nude or wasted some of your time.

Liguria is the part of Italy where pesto and focaccia originated. For lunch I had a piece of pesto pizza and some amazing focaccia bread...for about three euros. I took the train from Manarola to Monterosso al Mare, the farthest of the five towns, and the one with the best beach, so the most touristy.

You can hike between all five towns in four-five hours. The whole area is a national park, so you have to pay a small fee to hike. The hike betweeen Monterosso and Vernazza is the toughest. I started with that one intentionally. The uphill was a little rough, but it was well worth it from the top. The day had started out overcast, but during this leg of the journey the sun came out. From Vernazza I hiked to Corniglia, where I got some delicious honey gelato. The hike from Corniglia to Manarola isn't bad except that from the town itself you have to go down these intense stairs to the train station where the trail to Manarola picks up. In Manarola I stopped where I had gotten my lunch to get some farinata, a type of chickpea pie that is also a specialty of Liguria, which was good, but not as good as the focaccia. The hike from Manarola to the last town, Riomaggiore, really shouldn't even be called a hike. It is about 15 minutes of flat walking through the "Via dell Amor."

I went back to my hostel and took a well-deserved shower. The hostel had a restaurant, and I figured I'd give it a try, for convenience's sake. I ordered gnocchi pesto with a green salad and was VERY pleasantly surprised. The pesto sauce was AMAZING. Apparently the hostel's restuarant has some fame. After dinner, I walked out onto the Via dell Amor and ordered a glass of white wine in one of the two bars on that trail to watch the sunset. I had to trade in my Rick Steves' French, Italian, and German Phrasebook to get a novel to read.

The next day, I decided to tackle the hike in reverse. I was wearing my swimsuit under my clothes, with the intention of going for a swim as soon as I made it to Monterroso. I saw some nice rocks between Manarola and Corniglia and decided to just go for a swim then. It was very nice, and the area was in shade while I was there which was good. As it turns out later, I was very glad I went in the water then.

I dried off on the rocks before heading back to the trail, where I met up with three Australian women who were in my room at the hostel. We walked together for a while, past some abandoned structures that one of them said had been a thriving bar before the area was designated a national park and UNESCO world heritage sight. Apparently abandoned buildings have more character? I lost them on the stairs up to Corniglia, where I got myself some focaccia and another water bottle. In Vernazza, I had a lunch of focaccia and gelato.

Everything was going well, and I was already thinking about where I wanted to go swimming by some rocks I had seen the day before. Until I out of nowhere fell on the trail. Luckily, I wasn't that badly hurt, just scraped. I did pretty seriously scrape up my knee (in the same place I had bruised it three weeks ago crossing the street in Madrid), but also luckily I fell in front of an American family and a German couple who both whipped out their first aid kits to see who was better equipped to patch me back up. Bleeding and covered in dirt, I had no choice but to (but was also determined to) finish the hike to Monterosso.

Swimming was pretty much ruled out. I did strip to my swimsuit to shower on the beach. I thought about swimming anyway when I saw the blue blue water, but I had to settle for reading my novel on a rock with my feet in the water. I caught the train back to Manarola and went to their main "beach," where I was even more tempted to go for a swim. I'm kind of disappointed that I didn't, because who knows when I will be able to swim from rocks in clear blue water again, but the fact that my wound was bleeding through the bandage was probably a sign. I went back to the hostel and took an even more well-deserved shower.

I had dinner at the hostel again, having absolutely divine walnut ravioli, sitting with the Australian ladies. We had breakfast together again the next morning before heading our separate ways.

That Friday, I was headed to Rome by way of Pisa. I'd heard that Pisa was somewhat overrated, and that other than the Leaning Tower and the Duomo there wasn't much to see, but I wanted to see that. I followed a self-directed walking tour of Rick's to Campo dei Miracoli. FYI, the Tower is actually leaning. I made a beeline to the ticket office to get my timeslot to climb the tower. I surprisingly didn't have to wait that long. I visited the Duomo (a bargain at 1 euro), went to the bathroom (they really shouldn't charge you when you are paying 15 euros to climb the tower...), checked everything but my camera, and then it was my turn.

The steps are made out of marble, which means that they are very well-worn and slippery. They made us all get out and wait at the first landing. Some people were experiencing motion sickness, and I was pleased that I was not among their numbers. The view from the top of the Campanile was nice but not spectacular. Once back down on the ground, I got a sandwich and went back to the train station. The automatic machine wouldn't let me buy tickets on the next train to Rome, apparently because only 1st class seats on the leg of the journey from Florence to Rome were available. I decided it was probably worth it.

It was pleasant changing trains in Florence, being able to see the Duomo and Campanile from the train station. I boarded the train to Rome. From what I can tell, the only difference is that the seats are a little bigger (three across instead of four), and you get drink service and a snack included.

In Rome, I checked into my hostel Fawlty Towers, which was a little weird. They were cash-only, but they didn't have change, so I had to promise to come back before a certain time with three euros, which was kind of annoying. I was in a four-person dorm...for which there was only one key. Which means that you can't lock the door until all of the people are out of the room during the day and in the room at night. If it had been for more than a night I would have been even more weirded out I'm sure.

I didn't want to waste any precious time in Rome. I took the metro out to the Ara Pacis. There was also an art exhibit in the basement that seemed pretty random to me. From there I walked to Santa Maria del Poppolo, home to two Caravaggio paintings: Crucifixion of St. Peter and Conversion of St. Paul. From there I got some gelato and walked to the Trevi Fountain to toss another coin. My coin in April obviously worked.

I went back to the hostel. On my way out, I ran into a random religious procession. Only in Rome. I really do like Rome and all of its Roman craziness. I then went to a restaurant recommended by Rick. I had a nice pizza and then decided to order the tiramisu because Rick said it was really good. I was disappointed. Maybe I should have tried the strawberry flavor instead of the traditional coffee?

That night I met Meghan, my friend who is doing Georgetown's summer program in Rome (originally supposed to be in L'Aquila...) in Piazza della Repubblica just to catch up, which was nice.

The next morning, I visited several churches, including one with a Caravaggio chapel. I got to see The Calling of St. Matthew! I tried to buy a postcard in one of the machines, but it ate my money as well as that of the girl behind me who tried to buy a postcard out of a different slot. Typical Catholic church.

By that time, the Galleria Doria Pamphilj, the main event of the morning, was open. The gallery is in the palace of the Doria Pamphilj family and is their private collection of art. I had really wanted to go to see Velazquez's influential Portrait of Pope Innocent X, who was a member of the Doria Pamphilj family. Apparently the term "nepotism" comes from his family's relation to the papacy. After I was done, I had enough time to grab a sorbet-gelato (very tasty), catch the bus, grab my suitcase, and catch the train to the airport. 11 euros...

I had lunch at the airport, bought some wine for my host family, and I was back in Madrid in no time. It was nice to be back, and it was especially nice to catch up with my host family after their trip to New York. Apparently they had a really great time on their first trip to the U.S., which makes me glad.

I really didn't have very much time in Madrid before leaving, for the final time. Packing was no fun, complicated by the temptation of serious summer sales (I found some sundresses for decent prices which made the last couple of days of Spanish summer bearable). I enjoyed the Sorolla exhibit at the Prado and said goodbye to the museum (I had planned a walkthrough of everything seen in class this year, but Vera Cruz de Maderuelo, the Romanesque chapel housed in the Prado, was closed. I went to Salamanca for a daytrip. The highlight of my final days in Madrid was when my host dad Miguel took me around Madrid on his moto! It was a lot of fun. He said of all of the American girls he's taken on his moto, I was the least scared, which I find somewhat incredible. I was scared before the ride started, but once we were off (we were going pretty slow) I wasn't scared.

It was hard saying goodbye after a year.

But now I'm back here in real life.