“I mean, the worst that could happen is you tumble down the mountain…”

This weekend was definitely one of those times I stopped and said, “Holy guacamole… I can’t believe this is my life.” On Saturday, I spent the day in Verona visiting the scenes of Romeo and Juliet on Valentine’s Day weekend; I stood in an ancient coliseum and wandered around an ancient Roman outdoor theatre. Then, 15 hours later, I was snowboarding in the Italian AND French Alps. And the thing is, this is considered “just another weekend.” Seriously? This is my life? I <3 Study Abroad.

This is just to the top of the GONDOLA.
It still takes another 2 chair lifts to get you to the top.

In this edition of Sarah the Americana I’ll give you the run-down (pun intended) of the three days I got to spend in the breathtakingly beautiful Italian Alps. 

After a 3 hours bus ride on Sunday morning in which we passed multiple castles and had spectacular views of the mountains, we found ourselves at a 4-star ski resort at La Thuile, a mountain in the Italian Alps in Aosta Valley that boarders France. During the days, I spent 7 hours snowboarding from Italy to France and back into Italy; I boarded down (and sometime slid down) black diamonds… in the Italian Alps! I even went off a jump and landed it! (Well, to be fair, the first time I tried to go off the jump, I was not so successful. It’s on video and everything. It looked like I had it, then ohh... OOHHH! bam: nose-dive into the ground. I got the wind knocked out of me and my brain felt like it was no longer attached to my skull. And then you know what I did? Got back on the ski lift and did it again. And landed. Carpe Diem, baby.) My biggest accomplishment however was learning how to turn right - an issue I’ve struggled with for years. ("I'm not an ambi-turner!"- Zoolander) After spending the day on the mountain destroying our bodies and acquiring some very respectable bruises (the award going to my roommate Colleen who has a bruise the size of my head on her inner thigh and her body has somehow managed to create new shades of blue I've never even seen before), we went inside to steam in the sauna, take nice hot baths, got dressed, went to complementary Aperitivo, followed by a complementary dinner, all of which were delicious and lavish seeing as it was a 4-star resort. Yup. I know. I would hate me too if I were you. 

The trip was perfect for getting to know people and breaking up cliques. A lot of the time, the people you normally hang out with were not at the same ski level as you, so you were forced to meet new people and spend the day with those at your level. I met people in my program from music majors to engineering majors, from Illinois, Indiana, and even Hawaii. I am now good friends with about 10 new people I probably wouldn’t have gotten to know otherwise, for which I am extremely grateful.

To get to the tippy top of the mountain, you need to take 3 chair lifts in 26 degree weather. But oh man… when we got to the top, it was the most AMAZING view I’ve ever seen. You look one way toward Italy and see a little village 8,500 ft. below, then turn around and are staring into France.  I literally snowboarded from La Thuile, Italy to La Rosiere, France… and got lost for about an hour in France. We kept looking around asking each other, “Wait, what country are we in now?” It seemed like a normal thing to ask given our situation, but I stopped the group to reflect, exclaiming, “Guys… when are we ever going to have to ask ourselves again, what country are we in right now?” Not. Normal.

Sam and I next to the "Welcome to France!" sign

On the last day we went up, there was literally 0 visability. We blindly skied over 8,500 ft (we got lost a few times and had to take a few ski lifts) down reds and blacks while only being able to see less than 10 ft. in front of us... twice. It was horrifyingly awesome. One of the lifts we had to take is designed for skiers, and you take this long rope with a circle at the end and put it between your legs and let it pull you up a very steep hill. Not so much designed for snowboarders… As a snowboarder, I had to unstrap one foot, put this thing between my legs, stand up very straight yet facing perpendicularly to the base of the mountain, and hold on tight, keeping incredible balance because if I were shaky in any way, I would have literally tumbled down the mountain. (Thus the title of this entry. My friend – who was on skis might I add - in trying to comfort me, actually said, “I mean, the worst that could happen is you tumble down the mountain.” I slowly turned around and looked at him like, “Seriously?” and then he realized, oh… that may not be comforting…)

Proof that I do in fact snowboard.

There were people from Italy, France, America and London. (Two Englishmen we met on the gondola were poking fun of those of us who were snowboarding, claiming, “Snowboarders are just people that couldn’t figure out how to ski properly.” It was hilarious.) I slid back and forth between countries without a passport or airplane. I stood at the top of the Alps then boarded down them. I saw a ski patrol dog running down a black diamond having the time of his life. And, I even witnessed what seemed to be the European style of skiing on multiple occasions, which seems to consist of 2 ski poles in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The whole experience was absolutely surreal. 

Hi France!
Standing in Italy with the French border literally at the net behind us. Yup. You're looking at picture of 2 different countries right now.

...my hair seemed to have frozen a bit.
It was a bit chilly..

 

12 Hours in Verona

While most people in my program spent the long weekend in Paris, I decided I wanted to take a day-trip to Verona, knowing nothing about it other than people telling me: “Go see Verona.” I mentioned it to a kid in my program I had met during a Superbowl party held at a pub in Milan owned by an American, and he decided to join. That’s one great thing about studying abroad: you want to see everywhere and you want to meet new people, so after knowing this person for about 15 minutes we decided, hey, no one else is around and we want to go somewhere, why not spend an entire day together in Verona? I’m sure in the back of both our minds, this decision was followed by, I hope we actually get along otherwise this is going to be a very long day, but hey- it’s all part of the experience. While waiting at the train station, we bumped into two other kids in our program who had just missed their train to Turin and decided, Forget Turin, why don’t we just join you in Verona? Good decision. It was so impromptu and the epitome of what studying abroad is all about, and it ended up being an INCREDIBLE day. (And luckily we all got along extremely well and even after spending 12 hours in Verona together, we came back to Milan and cooked a lavish dinner together at my friend's apartment. Spontaneity wins again.) 

It was a relatively foggy day, but that didn’t take away the beauty of the city. I feel as if Verona is overlooked destination point, but if you ever have the privilege to wander around Italy, stop in Verona. It’s absolutely beautiful. The city is pretty much the picture of quintessential Italy: it has a canal running through it with beautiful bridges, small winding stone streets, and tons of amazing places to visit. We spent 10 euro to buy a day long “Verona Card” which gives you bus privileges and gets you into 13 tourist destinations. We only managed to hit 3 of them, but GOOD GOD they were SPECTACULAR!

        

Juliet's House

So apparently I was the only one who was NOT aware that Romeo and Juliet takes place in Verona. It just so happened that we went to Verona only days before Valentine’s Day, and there was a big festival to celebrate – perfect time to go. In the spirit of things, we went to Juliet’s house where there is a statue of her and apparently it is good luck to rub her left breast; so… when in Rome Verona. I’ve been extremely lucky and fortunate on this trip so far, so maybe this will further contribute. 

We started the day off at the Arena, which was like something straight out of the movie Gladiator. We walked around in the middle then climbed to the top for a beautiful view of the city. I heard some kids speaking English and promptly started conversation with them, and found out that they’re with a program in a small town not far from Venice and study biology at Bryan College in Tennessee. (I LOVE meeting random people on trips.) It’s crazy to think about how many students study in Italy!

After the Arena, we went to Museo di Castelvecchio which is in an old, beautiful castle. It had a mote and drawbridge and was on the water overlooking the city with tons of elevated brick walkways. It was absolutely beautiful. 

My absolute FAVORITE spot of the day was the Teatro Romano, which we spent quite a long time at. It was an ancient outdoor Roman theatre and was built into the side of a hill. It was set up like a miniature semi-circle coliseum and had courtyards above the seats. You could take a walk up to the top of the theatre which overlooked the entire city. I’m including tons of photos of it because my description can’t do it justice. It was by far my favorite part of Verona. (As a side note, I will include that we saw 3 Italian men reverse crab-walk up the ENTIRE pathway to the top where this view was taken. Reverse crab-walk meaning they were essentially in push-up position with their heads facing down the hill, so they used their arms and tippy toes to carry them up the hill. Now THAT’S impressive. My three friends and I applauded them when they reached the top.)

All in all, go to Verona. Buy the Verona Card. Go to the Teatro Romano. You won’t regret it. 

    

The Lunacy of Italy

I've been on some incredible trips in the past few days, but while I wait on a few photos from the Italian Alps and Verona, I thought I'd break this streak of blog silence (and appease my mother) by including some random and rather hilarious observations I've made in Italy that prove how different our cultures are. In no particular order: 

Everyone in Milano seems to have a dog. Without wasting an opportunity to be fashionable, many Milanese dogs are better dressed than I am. I'd say about 80% of those dogs have coats, and to my great amusement, those coats often have little hoods. I even saw a dog wearing a rain coat once. I guess it makes sense because the dogs go EVERYWHERE with the owners – including cafés – so they need to stay warm seeing as they're out for hours at a time, but it still makes me laugh. In Bologna, I climbed a HUGE leaning tower, and at the top I found two women with their dog taking photos. They carried  A DOG up an ancient, 3 meter tall tower! Also very strange, most of the dogs here don't even wear leashes, they just obediently and casually follow their owners. Ridiculous on so many accounts.  

No one here wears colors – only neutrals. (Black, gray, and a million shades of brown.) It's like New York to the max. My Mom sent me my long emerald green peacoat because I told her how much I had underestimated the cold weather. I wore it the next morning to school, and when I got onto the insanely packed metro during commuter hour (which a description for another time), I looked like a Christmas tree in the middle of the River Styx. (And yes, I just referenced mythology.)
 

Whenever I tell an Italian that I am from the States and/or that I live near New York, they always seem to respond with the same two things, usually in this order: 1. “You're from the States/New York? Why the HELL would you come here?!” 2. “It is my dream to go to the States.” When I ask where they want to visit in the States, I can't tell you how many times I've heard the same line-up: New York, California, and (of all places) Miami. Many Americans dream of coming to Italy, and it seems to be the dream of every Italian to come to the States.

I swear, there really are no driving laws in Italy. Forget about the insanely aggressive driving - the parking is hysterical. People park everywhere - including the sidewalks - but my favorite is at night: after all of the parallel spaces are taken on both sides of the road and there is no more room to squeeze your tiny tiny smart car illegally onto the sidewalk behind the legally parked cars, Italian drivers park down the MIDDLE of the road, straddling the white dashed lines. (I wish I had a picture of it but as of right now I do not - this is the best I can do for now. But I promise to work on it, because you won't believe it until you see it.)

Considering that Milan is (arguably) the fashion capital of the world, there sure are a lot of American clothing stores here... (please refer to photo featuring both H&M and Footlocker, but oh how that street in particular has SO many more American stores.)

After a stressful 15 minute game of charades and then some “let's see how much broken Itali-glese the two of us can piece together” at this here H&M near Il Duomo, I learned the hard way that you cannot return items you've purchased in Italy. (Itali-glese (noun): describing the interactions of two or more non-fluent speakers trying to communicate using broken Italiano and Inglese; (origin): Sarah's brain.) You can swap items that are the exact same price or more usually within 14 days of the original purchase, but they cannot give you a gift card for future use and they cannot refund your purchase. Quite inconvenient.

Much to my dismay, the concept of “to-go” doesn't exist in Italy - especially when it comes to coffee. (Perhaps that's why Italians are always late...) Also interesting, I just learned today from an Italian student that after noon, it is considered uncool to order a cappuccino or any other fancy drink disguised as coffee. Only normal, straight up coffee.

Everyone in Italy seems to be anti-PETA. (PETA = People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.) The city is filled with leather boots, leather purses, fur and leather coats, and an alarmingly large number of fur hats. (This here is a photo I took of a little old woman walking in front of me. Please her fur hat and leather bag. But trust me – there are WAY better examples walking around Milano right now.) In Florence, I actually saw a fur store next to a leather goods store. That pretty much sums up the Italian wardrobe.

Finally, one of my FAVORITE observations about Italian culture, young Italians can sing the words to EVERY Rihanna song, but they can't string together a proper sentence in English otherwise. Listening to them sing American music (which is the only music that is played in the clubs or on the radio – which is unedited, by the way) is so funny because half the time they don't know what they're saying, and because they've listened to the song so many times, they're able sing the whole thing without an Italian accent, but then they try to say something like “what are you doing tonight” and it comes out whuuut arrd yeew doING toonIt-uh? or whuuut tings yeew doo toonIt-uh? Touché, American music industry. You've successfully taught a generation of Europeans very important words such as “break it down” and key phrases like “want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.” Educating Generation Y one pop song at a time.

To Come: Stories and photos from Verona and snowboarding in the Alps. Stay tuned.