SAlerno + Amalfi Coast
September 15-16, 2018
First weekend trip: Salerno, embarking point for the Amalfi Coast. A natural first choice!
It’s a joint trip with several new friends, and the early morning bus ride from Tiburtina station was sleepy and satisfying. I catch a glimpse of Vesuvius as we pass Naples, and am greeted by an amazing seascape.
After settling into the Air BnB, the cruise ride to the Amalfi Coast is as spectacular as you’d expect!
Lunch was super satisfying: scialatelli alle vongole.
First time swimming in the Mediterranean (fuck those sharp-ass pebbles tho, seriously).
Went back a bit early that night (so sorry I fell asleep and I didn’t get those texts to open the door till morning 🙈)
Anecdote time:
I was shopping with my friends Charlie and Monse in Salerno, couple hours before heading back to Rome, and while we were waiting for the others a kid on the street asked me if I could buy him something at a nearby Burger King. I tried my best to ask him where his parents were, but he didn’t really respond. I got him the sandwich and tried to talk more to him in Italian, but he responded only when I was confirming what he wanted, and he left pretty quickly after.
I saw him a couple of minutes later sitting down next to an older lady. I wish I could say otherwise, but if I’m gonna be completely honest, I didn’t really feel all too happy about it. When I did ask him if that was his mother—if I’m remembering it correctly—neither of them acknowledged me. I probably was also at least a little self-conscious about looking like a dumb rich tourist, too. But I mean, I did have a Gutteridge shopping bag out and all. I figure now of course that whatever his situation was, if he was asking a random tourist for lunch, it probably wasn’t a good one...
An excellent and insightful first trip, and glimpse into Campania and Southern Italy in general. (Thanks for that last photo, Vanesa!!)
Intro to Rome
September 3, 2018 - September 14, 2018
Over the next two weeks I note in my journals just how fast it’s all going! Too fast, insanely fast.
It’s the settling in portion, before true classes begin, where all we have to worry about is an Italian practicum—a crash course/review of the language, that everyone within the program is taking across all skill levels.
I continue to get to know my homestay family over dinner, and new friendships are made on spontaneous trips to the best sites the city has to offer, both right after class and later into the night. When the sun goes down, the countless cats of Rome prowl and claim all of the city’s landmarks as their own.
I’m learning local spots for great food and quick on-the-go fixes—like Mondial Pizza, right below the apartment complexes in Trastevere. It doesn’t take me too long to discover I Supplì, a friggitoria that serves the most wonderful street food ever invented. Supplì are croquettes, filled with rice and sauce surrounding a stringy mozzarella core. Good Lord do I miss them. I fall a bit too in love with Roman carbonara as well, and note that I really have to slow down on that.
Finally, the three weeks before classes are filled with incredibly fun and informative cultural tours that range from café crawls to market stalls, and of course, historical crash courses at amazing sites. I never had Professor Alei as a teacher, but I still remember his tour quite well. He mapped the city through its monuments, and delivered an awesome mini-lecture atop the Campidoglio, where he contextualized Rome—not as a musty old city of disconnected layers, but as a living and breathing consciousness, constantly informed by the past and made anew. Cool stuff!
Better luck with the next one, Hazel. Don’t worry, there’s cats aplenty skulking about the city center 😸
First Full Day in Rome
August 29, 2018 - September 2, 2018
The first full day in Rome is a breath of fresh air. I take a taxi to UC Center Rome within the Piazza dell’Orologo for paperwork, and another to my home for the next four months, an apartment in Trastevere. My homestay mom Valeria is wonderful from the start, and I couldn’t have asked for a better host. She lives with her son Alessandro and is a seasoned veteran when it comes to hosting, not even being able to remember how many students it’s been so far. Apparently the guy from the term before wasn’t the most considerate, so I’m determined to make up for it. She’s an incredibly calming presence, and she works as an OT like my Dad, biking to work every morning. She speaks very little English as well, and it’s a perfect match. At dinner that night plenty of Italian words fly over my head, but there are plenty of laughs, more than enough to keep my resolve to learn well-sustained.
The next day is orientation, and I meet many new friends, including my bud Charlie. The next couple of days is a whirlwind of errands, food, and sites as we settle into the city before classes begin. For now, the public transit is relatively uncrowded as many natives are still on vacation, so it’s a perfect time to get acquainted.
Looking back on these old photos, it’s already become disarming to see such huge throngs of people! The Trevi fountain is one of the obvious first stops, but much more exciting and *slightly* less crowded is the Pantheon, which I would visit maybe a dozen more times, and would become my favorite building in all of Rome.
The weekend ends with an excursion to the Forum and Colosseum, hosted by the amazing Professor Corrado, whose enthusiasm for Ancient Rome is earnest and invigorating. 😁
I go to bed that night excited, with a twinge of homesickness thinking about my friends and life a world away, but ready for everything to come.
Arrival in Rome
August 28, 2018
I’d taken a year of Italian during my second year at UCSD, and in the year following, tried my best to keep the rust at bay with Duolingo. It’s a hell of a beginning to my final year of college, I’m ready for Italy, invigorated from the recent hospitality. I board the train southbound—a full day’s journey.
On the train to Milan, I realize I’m finally gonna speak the first Italian I would speak to Italian ears that don’t belong to a professor or TA. I get that pulsating nervousness you get when you’re about to talk to a pretty girl you don’t know very well, but instead it’s some dudes in their mid-30s, and I ask them:
“Scusi, pensate che il treno sarà pieno?”
“No.”
I sit back down pretty elated about all the Italian I’m going to use for the next four months.
The bliss ends with an adrenaline rush. The train is arriving late, like—risking missing-a-transfer late. I gun it alongside an Italian family and a handful of others to the platform to Termini station. We all laugh in relief when we actually make it. I’m quickly realizing, however, that it’s getting really difficult to pick up the bits and pieces of what passersby are saying. I perk up again at the sight of the red-tiled roofs of Florence. Finally, I catch a glimpse of a hilltop city. I’d later learn it was called Orvieto—and I’d have a lot of memories to be made there.
When I step outside Termini station, however, it’s a sad but honest sight. It’s full of refugees trying to make a living, some quietly and some aggressively, juxtaposed with tourists upon tourists, all crowded and cramped together. I’m happy I didn’t over-idealize Rome so far, but I’m unsure what the near future holds.
There are very few places open for food in Italy 24 hours a day. Just one in close proximity — the McDonald’s of Termini Station. Even though it’s late, there’s a line, and I’m thinking hard about what I say. The cashier looks at me with two hands out:
“English? Or Italian?”
“Italiano”, I reply.
But it’s quickly becoming apparent that I’m not saying something right, he’s getting exasperated, and I get flustered.
“English.”
Defeated, I eat my sad, cold Gran Crispy McBacon® in silence and shame.
Basel Pt. 2 + Weil-am-Rhein + Saint-Louis
Aug 26-27, 2018
The day begins with a free walking tour of Basel, hosted by a local, suggested to me by Joel. I see the city’s ancient original settlement, the Münster cathedral, a handful of basilisk statuettes, and the famous Rathaus. It's a welcome glimpse into the history of a city I never thought I'd visit, and the strongest memory of this day was the walk back. Sunny but cool—not something I'm used to! I wrote down in my journal that on that simple walk it "fulfilled the desire I had to question what I wanted to experience in my everyday life", and I'm beginning to remember what that meant.
For the past couple of days, to be able to explore places with such storied histories at my own discretion—this is a huge first. And all the new input seems to foreshadow endless possibilities for the next couple months, but I come to the conclusion that I should just focus on the moment. And it's good I did! I think a lot about how memories are just images of the past that we experience in the present. But it's not a disheartening thing. To re-experience something is another experience altogether. It's something different, something new and now. But anyway...
On my last day in Basel, I learn that it's the only metropolitan area with a light rail connecting three countries together. Joel plans out a trip for me to visit both France and Germany, which are just a couple of miles away. In France, I take just a little peek into the town of Saint-Louis. In Germany, I find myself in Weil-Am-Rhein. Turns out I actually buy the wrong ticket at first, and border patrol walks me back to the station to buy the right one. 😅
In my several hours in Germany, I discover the wonders of currywurst, the Vitrahaus (basically...a high-end IKEA), and I take the 6 tram to just outside the Beyeler Foundation, a museum complex. I don’t enter, but I explore the nearby fields and tree passages and feel, truly, like I am in the forested green Europe I’d imagined.
My last night is a walk around the old city, and dinner with Joel and Butch: world-famous Swiss fondue. One curious glimpse at the bill, and I’m happy I stuck to the kebab shops. 
Basel Pt. 1 + Lucerne
August 24-25, 2018
Friday the 24th is a day of transit. I meet my hosts, Butch and Joel. Joel is one of my Mom's old classmates from Philippine Science High School. They live with their sausage doggie daughter, Leela, in the city of Basel on the River Rhine, a nexus linking Switzerland with France and Germany. Leela was impossibly cute, but my first impression of her was a liquid whip of pee as she rolled on her back, shot like one of those cylinder garden sprinklers. She is easy to forgive. Joel and Butch are pro hosts. They have a whiteboard calendar with all their guests for the next month. To be a traveler in capable hands, hosted by guides who know the city AND how best to show it to you in a limited amount of time--I hope everyone gets to experience that at least once!
The next day I wake up early, mid REM cycle to a welcoming space--unfamiliar, yet welcoming--the reality of a once-in-a-lifetime trip. It was brilliant, and I urge you to remember that more mornings like that are waiting for each of us, someday.
I love Basel and will talk about it more, but it doesn't look like your typical Swiss fantasy storybook town. My first full day in Switzerland is a day-trip to Lucerne, where I first experience that "real good alpine shit." It's a crowded tourist town, but still pretty cool. It's got a weeping lion statue that brought Mark Twain to tears. It's also probably even prettier in snow. Also in Lucerne, a lifelong SoCal boy discovers the joy of L A Y E R S. My umbrella was broken, but I keep warm and dry with a real-deal Fjällräven jacket I'd bought specifically for the trip.
I took a nap in a church on the north bank of Lake Lucerne to wait out some of the rain. I bought lots of chocolates, and explored the old city's Renaissance walls, its modern center, and everything in between. 
Arrival in Paris
August 22-23, 2018
I'll preface this--I've been writing in journals since early high school--it'll be nine years this Halloween! Haven't missed a single day. So it's opportunities like this that make me happy that I'm so meticulous with record keeping. 😁
Wide-eyed me enters Europe for the first time with a wallet fat with two years of dining hall work money and a filled-to-the-brim 40 lb. Fjällräven (not the cute little kånken, but my beloved big boy backpack, my old reliable, the Räven 28). Running on fumes: it's midnight in L.A., but 9 a.m. in Paris.
The first day is a large triangle that gets a bit screwy at the end. I remember pretty girls, cute comic stores, and quiet churches, but many of the bakeries were closed on holiday. I reach Notre Dame and am in awe! About eight months or so before the tragic partial burning. All of a sudden I recall sacred spaces that I'd forgotten. I got flashbacks to mass at Catholic High School. I've never been religious, but they were often a welcome break--actually, consistently--ritually calming to me, as a way to escape for awhile.
I walk north to Sacré-Cœur and get that magnificent view of the city. I'd wanted to hit the Arc to round out the day but after passing through Montmarte, got lost for about three hours on the walk southwest. A nice man on a moped points the way back.
The second day is pure and good. It is the Louvre Day. Ah, how I love the Louvre day. I see a fraction of what it has to offer, but rest easy knowing I'll return with my family at the end of the year. At night--the Arc de Triomphe to the Eiffel Tower. The stuff you have to see the first time, in your first two days. And the sampler course is finished. 🇫🇷
