17: Leiria and My Wonderful Family

As I'm sure you know, I'm back in the United States already.  I still had two more posts planned for this blog, but unfortunately after my previous post my schedule got rather hectic:

First, there was exam period, where I suddenly had quite a lot to review and study and a 10-page paper to write on the book "Eurico, o Presbítero" and how it reflected Portuguese Liberalism during the 19th Century.

Second, there was the very short period of time after exams that was dedicated solely to packing and saying goodbye to the amazing people I met while abroad.

Third, there was the few days I had at home when I finally got back to the United States, which were filled with unpacking for Portugal, seeing friends, and repacking for New York City!

And now, for the past two weeks, I have been running around the island of Manhattan for my internship with an off-Broadway production company AF Productions, which is currently producing "The Magdalene: A Musical" at Theater at St. Clement's this summer (shameless plug, I know).

Though through all of this business I have literally thought about closing up this blog every day.  But such work requires two blog posts, I believe, and so I will start the first one now with my travels with my family at the end of my semester:

So to say that I was nervous to encounter my family is a grave understatement.  I was absolutely petrified to see them, though not because they are in any way unpleasant but because I did not want to make a fool of myself with my terrible Portuguese.  I'm sure you all remember my first meeting with my cousin, which left me completely disheartened about any sort of language skill I formerly thought I possessed... and now it was time to confront these insecurities again.

The first meeting was only a day trip to Leiria that I mentioned in my Queima das Fitas post.  Amy and I took a bus on Saturday morning and met with my tia (aunt) Arminda and tio (uncle) Joaquim.  Tio Joaquim is my grandfather's brother, and they recently moved back to Portugal after moving to the States in the 1970s.  Tia Arminda might be the only one of my great-aunts and -uncles, either in Portugal or the United States, who speaks English very well, so I figured that if my Portuguese completely failed, at least I would be able to get by speaking with her in English.  That being said, I was still completely terrified.

Tia met us at the station and started speaking to us in English right when we got off the bus.  I felt relieved but also a little embarrassed.  Did she assume that we wouldn't be able to speak to her in Portuguese?  After introducing Amy, she walked us around downtown Leiria a little bit and then brought us into Zara, which is like a much nicer European H&M.  Out of nowhere, Tia told me and Amy that she would get us something from the store as a thank you for having come to visit her.

How could I have been scared of coming to visit my family?  This was only the first of so many moments of kindness and generosity.

It was a surprise, after we finished at Zara, to find out that we were meeting my Tio Artur (my grandfather's youngest brother) and his wife Tia Gabbie for lunch as well.  When we arrived at the restaurant, the Portuguese began... and it was completely fine!  I understand the vast majority of what they were saying, and with Tia Arminda sitting across the table from me, it was easy to clarify a sentence or ask for vocabulary.  In true Portuguese fashion, my family fed me as if I were supposed to have the appetite of three teenage boys.  By the time we left the restaurant, I had eaten soup, duck, potatoes, vegetables, a bowl of fruit, and more bread than you can imagine.  And this was with my refusing quite a lot more.

For reference

After lunch, we wandered around the city of Leiria, which is about halfway between Coimbra and Lisbon.  The county of Leiria is actually where most of my family is from.  My cousin and her family still live in the little town where my mother lived before emigrating.  It really is a tiny little place, and when I underwent my language placement test at the beginning of the semester, the professora told me that she in fact knew Tojal and told me it that it was no wonder my family left as the town of Tojal was a miserable place to live.  What a very pleasant woman.

Inside Sé Leiria

We stopped at a cafe, where the tios and tias had café and Amy and I drank galões (thrust upon us of course, as we were still too full to move properly).  We then hiked up the hill, passing Sé Leiria, a beautiful catedral, on the way to the Castelo de Leiria, the ruins of a 12th Century castle that was partially reconstructed in the 1970s.  Tia Gabbie even bought me a book about this castle after hearing about my interest in medieval history and ruins.  She stayed behind at the entrance though, as there was quite a lot of difficult climbing in and around the castle.  We rambled over the rocks and through the little passageways.  From the top of the towers you could see a magnificent view of the city of Leiria, both old and new.  I definitely fell in love with that little city while I was there.  As much as I love Coimbra and Lisbon, Leiria is the birthplace of my family and I was proud to be from a region with so much beauty and history (more on this later).   Tia Arminda told me that she was happy to come up here again: she hadn't visited the castle for more than thirty years.

View from Castelo de Leiria

Pastéis de Leiria

After the castle, we visited a cute little museum that was dedicated to visual movement.  Along with quite a lot of old cameras and video equipment, they had a really neat display of optical illusions.  My tios and tias seemed to enjoy that exhibit a lot.  After the museum, we traveled back downhill and stopped in another cafe, where my aunts and uncles bought us Leiria's famous pastries.  It seems as though all cities in Portugal have some sort of "special dessert," though they are all some variant of egg, flour, and sugar.  These were pretty good, and seeing as Amy and I enjoyed them, my family made us eat three before we left.

Tia Arminda, Tio Joaquim, myself, Tio Artur, and Tia Gabbie

After the pastries, we hopped into Tio Artur's car and drove over to a church on the edge of the city.  I can't remember its name (alas, what happens when I wait too long to blog) but it had a special legend about the numerous steps that led up to to the church.  There the tios and tias showed me the new hospital, which they had spoken about several times throughout the day already, and another great view of the city.  There we took pictures together and then hopped back into the car.  They wanted to show me Batalha.

Amy and I outside o Mosteiro

Pastéis de Batalha

I had visited Batalha when my family came to visit Portugal in 2008, but I was excited to go back.  The monastery there was definitely one of my favorite places in Portugal.  Unfortunately by the time we arrived, the Mosteiro de Batalha was closed to visitors, so we (in true Portuguese fashion) found a cafe, sat down, and had yet more coffee.  My aunts and uncles ordered Amy and I the special pastries of Batalha, of which I do not have fond memories.  Whether it was the amount of food and pastry I had already consumed that day or the strange texture of the pastry that made my entire body want to reject those pastries from Batalha I do not know, but I struggled to get those down and I think Tia Arminda noticed.  By that time, Amy and I were both slipping with our Portuguese.  We hadn't spoken English since before lunch, and our brains were exhausted.  Of course, Tio Artur's son Ricardo, with his wife Inês and son Tómas, who was just as tired as we were, came to meet us.  I had never met them before, as they weren't available when we visited years before, but they were very nice and their son might have been the cutest little boy I have ever seen.  But I'm afraid my language skills probably didn't impress them too much.  Exhausted and all Portuguese-ed out, Amy and I didn't have much to say after they arrived.  It didn't help that the conversation changed to real estate and economy either.  Soon it was time for Amy and I to get back to Leiria to catch our bus back home, so we all left the cafe, scrambled into the car once again, and jetted back to the station.  It was good that we did too, as the bus that we thought left at 8:30 actually left at 8:15, and we were just able to grab our bags and jump on the bus before it left.  My aunts and uncles lined the street and waved as our bus pulled out.

It was a fantastic day, and I was happy to be able to see them the next weekend as well.

I took a bus that next Friday afternoon to Leiria, though this time a few things had changed: 1) Tatiana was accompanying me this time, 2) I was set to be in Leiria for the entire weekend, and 3) I was not only visiting with Tia Arminda and Tio Joaquim, but I was also going to visit my cousin and her family from Saturday night to Sunday afternoon.  The butterflies returned, but I remembered my day in Leiria all too well and was much more excited than I had been before.

My pile of shrimp shells

When we arrived in Leiria on Friday, Tia Arminda and Tio Joaquim were waiting with Tio Artur and Tia Gabbie.  They were excited to bring Tatiana and I to some sort of seafood restaurant outside of Leira that Tio Artur loved, but when we arrived, it was sadly closed.  So we continued driving south and ended up in Nazaré, a fantastic beach town that I had visited previously.  Nazaré is divided, with part of it on the top of a high cliff, and the rest sprawled out down the hill and around the beach.  We went to a great restaurant on the higher area of Nazaré, where Tio Joaquim taught Tatiana and I how to shell shrimp both with our hands and with utensils, and Tio Artur told a very racist joke about Chinese food.  After dinner, we strolled over to the edge of the top part of the town, where we could see the beach and the rest of Nazaré at night.

Back in the car, Tio Artur drove us to the lower part of town, where he and Tia Gabbie had an apartment.  We stopped at their place, took a tour, and left with two large bags of chocolate.  Their apartment building is right on the main stretch of beach, so we walked down along the board walk for a little bit.  It was starting to get late and Tatiana and I were already pretty tired, but we still several other places to visit before we were able to sleep.  We drove back to Leiria, where we stopped at Tio Artur and Tia Gabbie's house there and took another tour and received a cake.  Then they drove us back to the bus station, from which Tio Joaquim and Tia Arminda drove us to their house outside of the city.  Somehow we were dead tired but my aunt and uncle were wide awake.  We passed some sort of fair along the way and Tia Arminda seemed to be entirely genuine when she asked if we wanted to stop by.  Tatiana had fallen asleep in the car at that point, so we decided to go ahead and get home.

Now, Tia Arminda and Tio Joaquim's house is like a mansion.  It's seriously one of the nicest houses I have ever seen in my life, and it is all built with money that they earned while working in the States.  I didn't have much time to admire it again when we arrived though.  Both Tatiana and I practically passed out as soon as we finished helping Tia Arminda make our beds.  We had gone to a river beach in Coimbra beforehand, but we were too exhausted to care that we smelled like river water.

Fatima

The next morning, we showered, ate some fruit and some of Tia Gabbie's cake for breakfast, and then drove to Fatima.  For those who don't know, Fatima is probably the holiest place in Portugal.  In 1917, the Virgin Mary appeared several times to three Portuguese shepherd children.  Of course, no one believed them for a very long time and, as Tia Arminda said, they suffered quite a lot.  I won't get into the whole story of it all, but I'll link the Wikipedia article here.   Now, it is a huge sight for pilgrimages and it is safe to say that 90% of Portuguese households have at least one statue of Our Lady of Fatima somewhere in their homes.  This was my second time at Fatima, but it was still amazing.  The complex is absolutely huge, with a huge cathedral on one end opposite another more modern church.  Between is all paved with white stone, with several smooth pathways for pilgrims to crawl on their knees toward the site where Mary appeared.  She originally appeared under a tree to the three children, and the tree is still there.  However, its been moved a few feet away from its original position, where a chapel with the figure of Our Lady of Fatima now stands.  I love this place because as soon as you enter the complex, you can feel that something very special happened there.  When she appeared, Mary also gave the children three prophetic secrets that foretold the upcoming World War I, the conversion of Russia, and the attempted assassination of a future pope.  The third secret was withheld from public knowledge until Pope John Paul II was almost killed in 1981.  Now there is a statue of JPII there whose toe is already worn with the touch of thousands of people.

We went into the cathedral, which is lovely inside.  The three children are all buried next to the altar, though I don't remember Lúcia, who became a nun and died in 2005, having been buried there yet in 2008.  Tatiana and I visited the official Fatima shop, where I finally got my Portuguese Bible, and then we left the complex and wandered through the maze of gaudy religious shops before Tio Joaquim picked us up and we went to have lunch.

After lunch, Tia brought us to the Grutas de São António, these fantastic underground caves near her hometown.  We were the only ones there, so we had a great time with our tour guide (who Tia Arminda instructed to only speak in Portuguese).  The caves were absolutely gorgeous underneath, and it was a nice break from the heat.

Inside the Monastery

After the caves, we returned to Batalha again.  This time, we were able to visit the inside of the church and monastery.  I didn't know previously, but my grandmother both went to school and was married there.  We visited the church, where King João I, Queen Phillipa of Lancaster, and their (kinda famous son) D. Henrique and his siblings are buried, then went into the cloisters, where we witnessed the changing of the guard ceremony at Portugal's own Unknown Soldier grave site and visited a small museum about the Unknown Soldier site.  We then passed behind the monastery to visit the unfinished chapels, where the touching grave of D. Duarte and his wife are forever holding hands.

Grave of D. Henrique (Henry the Navigator)

The Cloisters

Anyone remember "Timeline" when they see this?

With our Galo necklaces

After our visit, we met up with Tio Joaquim and Tia Gabbie again.  I had noticed a few people in the monastery dressed in period clothing before, but it was only when I got back outside that I realized that Batalha was hosting a Medieval Faire that weekend.  We wandered around the booths and watched a few musical performances.  One of my grandfather's old friends runs a souvenir shop near the monastery and gave me a little pendant of the Galo de Barcelos for free, which was so nice of him.  Tia Gabbie then bought me a chain and since then I continue to wear my Galo every chance I get!

Musicians at the Medieval Faire

My time with my aunts and uncles was drawing to a close, however.  We dropped Tatiana off at the bus station and then headed to Tojal, where my cousin (recently back from Hungary) and the rest of her family was waiting for me.  We arrived a little late to dinner, which only made me a little more anxious about the coming day-and-a-half.  But after saying goodbye to Tia Arminda and Tio Joaquim, I joined my other family for dinner.  At the table were my two cousins, Joana and Ana Rita (who acted as my translator throughout dinner) and Joana's boyfriend Tiago.  Then there was my uncle and my Aunt Maria do Carmo, who is my mother's cousin.  Her parents were also there: my great-aunt, or my grandmother's sister, and my great-uncle, or my grandfather's cousin.  Very confusing stuff, right there.

Speaking with this side of the family was much more difficult than speaking with my other tios and tias.  Perhaps it was because they had a stronger accent, but I found it very difficult to understand very much of what they were saying.  I had special trouble with my great-uncle, whose accent was impossible for me to decipher.  But my aunt Maria do Carmo was so nice and was very concerned that I like everything she had made for dinner (which, of course, I did. It was delicious!).  After ice cream, Ana Rita had to leave for a late shift at the club at which she worked, and I found out that Joana and Tiago were going to bring me out that night and visit the club.  Once I was just with them, though, I felt much more comfortable.  Tiago was playing The Killers (his favorite band) as he drove us back to Leiria and was very pleased that I was a fan.  We visited a Middle Eastern-themed tea shop which specialized in a whole bunch of flavored teas before heading over to Ana Rita's club.  It was pretty early so it wasn't very crowded.  We didn't stay too long either: Joana and Tiago had gone to the beach early that morning, so everyone was pretty tired.  Tiago dropped us off at Joana's house for the night.

Joana and I at Nazaré

The next morning was gratefully lazy.  We got up and hung around the house for a little bit.  I ate breakfast with Joana while my aunt continued making lunch.  I watched a little TV, got on the computer.  Ana Rita, who had obviously worked very late, got up just in time for lunch.  Tia Maria do Carmo had made chicken AND bacalhau for lunch, as she wasn't sure if I liked bacalhau or not.  After eating basically two lunches, we hung around the house a little bit with Ana Rita.  Tiago came by and we drove back to Batalha, where we explored the on-going Medieval Faire again.  After some coffee, we returned to Tojal, grabbed our beach stuff, and headed out again.  We stopped by a local assembly-type place, where Tia Maria do Carmo was already busy cooking for a party that night.  There we borrowed my uncle's car and drove to Nazaré.  It was a long drive, and by the time we got there it was already late afternoon.  We lazied around the beach for an hour or so before driving back to Tojal, changing for the party, and then heading over to the community party where I met quite a few new faces and ate dinner.  The food was delicious, of course, and after dinner my aunt and uncle told me that they would be driving me back to Coimbra themselves, as Joana was heading back as well for a summer internship.  Unfortunately Joana didn't live close to the University at all: instead, her apartment was across the river in Covões, where the hospital and medical school is located.  After dropping off her stuff, we headed back into the heart of Coimbra.  Despite my protestations, they all wanted to walk me all the way back up to my apartment.  I felt so bad, as of course my uncle wouldn't let me carry my suitcase myself.  After the long hike uphill, we said goodbye and parted ways.

Sadly I wasn't able to see my cousin after that, even though she was much closer.  Right afterward, finals began.  The next time I was able to contact her was a day or two before I had to leave, and she had work of her own that she couldn't abandon.  But I did have her and Ana Rita promise that they would visit the States as soon as they could so I could show them around MY home country.  Plus, they paid for everything when I was with them, and I need to pay them back! 

And thus ends this account.  Now THAT was a long post!

14: Spring Break Part 2 - ROME

While this is technically still the same trip, I think Rome definitely deserves its own blog post... It actually probably deserves two...  You might want to take a break before I get to my tour of Ancient Rome.

Castelo Sant'Angelo

I arrived in Rome on the Saturday before Easter.  After checking in at our hostel, I tried to get in contact with my friend Dan, who had arrived that morning in the city from his travels in Berlin and Athens.  The last I heard from him was from the Vatican Museum, where he had managed to get a tour.  As I found out later, his phone was out of credits but, in the absence of any contact, I decided to try and find the Trevi Fountain.  My efforts proved futile and creepy Italian men were starting to notice my being alone with a travel book when finally Dan called me from a payphone.  I met him in St. Peter's Square (which I tried to ignore in an effort to make the next day's adventures as fantastic as they could be) and we set off to find a restaurant for dinner and ate some delicious lasagna.  By that time it was starting to get dark, so we decided to do Rick Steves' Night Walk Across Rome: Campo de' Fiori to the Spanish Steps.  On our way to Campo de' Fiori, we passed the Castelo Sant'Angelo and the Ponte Vittorio Emanuele II, which I had to take a picture of in honor of my father, Victor Emmanuel Jr.  This began my rabid photo-taking of anything related to Italy's kings named Vittorio Emanuele II in honor of Papa Bernson.

Ponte Vittorio Emanuele II

Statue of Giordano Bruno at Campo de' Fiori

We eventually found our way to Campo de' Fiori (and by "eventually" I mean we got rather lost before stumbling upon it by accident), where this crazy band were playing and we experienced our first avid street vendors (which, unfortunately, mildly plagued the rest of our time in Rome).  It had started to drizzle a little bit but it was nothing we couldn't handle.  The rain merely gave the pages of my tour book a little more character.  From there we continued to the Four Rivers Fountain, which was fantastic.  I'm going to nerd out a little and just include what Rick Steves said about this fountain right here in this blog.  Perhaps from this execerpt you can tell why I follow and love this man so much:

Four Rivers Fountain

"The Four Rivers Fountain in the center is the most famous fountain by the man who remade Rome in Baroque style, Gian Lorenzo Bernini.  Four burly river gods (representing the four continents that were known in 1650) support an Egyptian obelisk that once stood on the ancient Appian Way.  The water of the world gushes everywhere.  The Nile has his head covered, since the head-waters were unknown then.  The Ganges holds an oar.  The Danube turns to admire the obelisk, which Bernini had moved here... And the Rio de la Plata from Uruguay tumbles backward in shock, wondering how he ever made the top four.  Bernini enlives the fountain with horses plunging through the rocks and exotic flora and fauna from these newly discovered lands...  The Plata river god is gazing upward at the church of St. Agnes, worked on by Bernini's former-student-turned-rival, Francesco Borromini.  Borromini's concave facade helps reveal the dome and epitomizes the curved symmetry of Baroque.  Tour guides say that Bernini designed his river god to look horrified at Borromini's work.  Or maybe he's shielding his eyes from St. Agnes' nakedness, as she was stripped before being martyred.  But either explanation is unlikely, since the fountain was completed two years before Borromini even started work on the church."

St. Agnes behind the Fountain

Oh Rick, you are so delightfully clever and informative.

The Pantheon at night

Chocolate and Cinnamon.  Mmm.

After oogling the beautiful Four Rivers Fountain, Dan and I wound through several hard-to-distinguish streets and suddenly found ourselves face-to-face with the Pantheon, which we discovered was now the St. Maria and the Martyrs Church with great confusion.  The inside was closed at night, but we managed to get inside the next day (more on that later).  After a few more Egyptian obelisks we found the recommended Giolitti's and got the best gelato of my life.

Still devouring our ice cream, we walked through the Piazza Colonna, down Via del Corso a little ways, and finally found the Trevi Fountain.  It was absolutely breath-taking at night, and just as packed as it was the next day during the afternoon.  Unfortunately my camera wasn't too thrilled about taking pictures of the fountain so late, but hopefully you can get an idea of the sight.  Dan even washed his gelato-covered hands there.  And that, my friends, is true American class.

The Trevi Fountain at night

Spanish Steps at night

After the Trevi Fountain, we found the Spanish Steps on the Piazza de Spagna.  Somehow we managed to stumble upon them from the top, so we had to weave our way down and dodge the excessive amounts of rose vendors before seeing them in their flower-covered entirety.  I could definitely tell why they were such a romantic spot.  Dan and I then went in search of what Rick Steves refered to as the largest and most lavish McDonalds in Europe but finally gave up and returned to our hostel, where we passed out in preparation for Easter the next day.

Crazy elated in St. Peter's Square.

While Dan had already seen the Vatican, he still wanted to accompany me early that Easter morning.  The metro was jam-packed and the streets between our stop and St. Peter's Square were crazy busy.  Somehow we managed to get in line, get through security, and land in St. Peter's Square by 10 AM.  Mass started at 10:30 AM and, somehow, I can convinced myself that the Mass was inside St. Peter's Basilica and was prepared for a mere sighting of the Pope beforehand.  Then I realized that there was an altar set up on the steps and cardinals and bishops sitting with other clergy to the side.  The Pope drove in on his Popemoble and walked up the steps and seated himself on a little red throne.  Then I realized that I had somehow managed to arrive in the midst of the Vatican on Easter and witness the Pope's Easter Mass.

The Pope arrives!

The altar on the steps of St. Peter's Basilica

Obviously I was beyond elated.  The weather had been rather cloudy and gross but as soon as the Mass started, the sun came pouring in and it became absolutely beautiful.  We technically weren't officially attending, as we had to stand the entire time and didn't receive the Eucharist, but I watched both with my naked eye and with the help huge jumbo screens the Pope preside over Easter Mass.  He always spoke in Latin, opened the Mass, and then an Italian woman read the First Reading.  An American clergyman read the Second Reading was in English and the Gospel in perfect Latin.  Later, for the "Let Us Pray" portion (Sorry, St. Mary's... I can't remember that particular part's name!), readers spoke in Italian, English, Swahili, Chinese, Spanish, and Portuguese (pride!).  There are not words to express how amazing it felt being there.  I recorded huge sections of the proceedings and probably annoyed a few people around me by the constant presence of my extended arm and video camera.  At the end of the Mass, the Pope retired into the Basilica.  The crowd began to disperse, and, still completely elated, Dan and I fought through the crowd, took pictures with the Swiss Guard in the background, and then tried to figure out what we were going to do with the rest of the day. 

After a quick but delicious lunch, we decided to do Rick Steves' Dolce Vita Stroll, which started at the Piazza del Popolo, where I found another lion friend.

Lion friend at the Piazza del Popolo

The Mausoleum of Augustus

We passed by the Ara Pacis and the Mausoleum of Augustus (you know, that kinda famous Roman emperor) before revisiting the Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain during the day.  I couldn't decide whether either of these sights were more beautiful at night or during the day.  We ended up at the end of Via del Curso at the Victor Emmanuel Monument, a huge and gaudy building built to reassure a newly united Italy.  The statue of Italy's first king, the aforementioned Victor Emmanuel, is so huge that his mustache is five feet long.  Dan and I climbed up the steps and took the elevator to the top, from which you can enjoy an amazing panoramic view of Rome.

Trevi Fountain, daylight.

Statue of King Victor Emmanuel II and his 5-foot mustache

We were a little worried that the Colosseum, Roman Forum and Palatine Hill would be closed the next day (like everything else), so we left the monument and walked down the Via Dei Fori Imperiali, made sure it was going to be open for the next day, and then admired the bronze statues of Roman emperors and then walked over to the Pantheon again.

We have a copy of this statue at Brown!

Inside the Pantheon was absolutely beautiful, with the graves of Victor Emanuel II and Umberto I (Italy's first two kings) and Raphael (not the ninja turtle).  Earlier that day at the Spanish Steps, a rose seller had given me a free rose "because you are so beautiful!" and then tried to bully Dan into buying me another one.  There was a rose laying on Raphael's grave, so I added mine there.

Raphael's grave

By that time we were both getting a little hungry, so we decided to look for dinner in Rome's Trastevere neighborhood.  While I loved Rome as a whole, Trastevere was definitely my favorite area.  It was so unlike the rest of Rome, a modern city, and more like that idealized vision everyone has of Italy.  There were vines all over the buildings and churches.

Santa Maria

We actually visited the first church dedicated to Mary, Santa Maria, which was absolutely beautiful inside, with really neat mosaics and a fantastic ceiling.  Some strange concert was going on inside though, so we didn't stay inside too long.










We tried to visit Villa Farnesina, which has a whole bunch of Raphael's art, but it was sadly closed.  Instead we climbed up to Giancolo Hill, admired the view, and then returned back downhill and found Dar Poeta Pizzeria, whose menu declares its pizza to be "neither thin or crispy nor thick and softy."  This pizza definitely rivaled the pizza in Florence.  After consuming another entire pizza each, Dan and I also got Nutella calzones, which Dan had to bully me into finishing.  After dinner, we returned to our hostel, took a disco nap, and then returned to Trastevere to experience a little bit of Rome's night scene.  After visiting a few little pubs and visiting a bar with Michael Jackson, Biggie, and Tupac framed on its walls, Dan and I returned to our hostel, excited for our tour of Ancient Rome the next day.

You better think twice before messing with this lady's Nutella calzone.

Ignoring the rain at the Colosseum

Monday began with a little cold and drizzly, but even in shorts I managed to absolutely love the Colosseum.  It is truly amazing that a structure like that has managed to exist like that for so long.  Dan and I decided to pay for a guided tour, so we were able to bypass the line and, with the help of the fantastic RomaPass, got into the Colosseum and Palatine Hill/Roman Forum for free.  Our tour guide was a very sweet Italian woman who pronounced words like "holes" in such a wonderful way.  She told us that the reconstruction of marble steps in the Colosseum were entirely wrong, as senators and other important people would have sat around the emperor and certainly would never have sat on such uncomfortable stone seats.  Little things like that are the reason why I love guided tours.  We also made friends with two Australians, who graciously allowed me to stand under their umbrella when it began to pour.  After the tour and wandering through an exhibit on Emperor Nero, I ran back to our hostel, put on some proper pants and grabbed my umbrella, and returned in time for the second leg of the tour on Palatine Hill.

There our tourguide was absolutely amazing.  He spoke perfect British English but referred to Italians as "we," so I'm guessing he has some sort of English parent.  He was full of fantastic little tidbits and factoids.  Here are some of my favorites:

An example of why our tour guide loved Palatine Hill when it rained.

1. We get the words "palace" from Palatine Hill, where many affluent royal Romans had their residences.
2. Palatine Hill is also where the mythical twins Remus and Romulus decided to start their settlement, though, of course, Romulus was forced to kill his brother in order that his settlement might survive and thrive and become Rome.
3. The Romans were such great fans of a purple marble named porpora that they mined it into extinction.  There are three baths made of this marble in the Vatican Museum and their combined worth it over one billion dollars.
4. The reason that Roman statues don't have any hair on their bodies is because the Romans washed  by rubbing themselves with sand and olive oil and scrapping it off, which eventually prevented hair growth.  I always wondered about this, as modern Italians aren't exactly lacking in body hair.
5. Rome's population literally doubles during the Easter week.  This year even more people have flocked to Rome at this time to celebrate the beatification of Pope John Paul II.
5. The Roman metro has been in the works for about 50 years now, but it is so difficult to expand because every time they go about digging underneath the city they find a new site or new artifacts and have to stop to excavate.  As our tour guide said, "It's taken so long because we Italians don't know what to do and end up just drinking a lot of wine instead of making any decisions."

After our tour was sadly over, we headed down to the Roman Forum, which was amazing.  We saw the Arch of Constantine (kind of an important guy)...

... the Basilica Aemilia (of which only one third exists from the original.  During the Middle Ages, scholars lost the knowledge to make such vast domes until they figured it out again right before the Renaissance.  Insane)...

... the Arch of Septimius Severus (though I was instantly distracted with thoughts of Severus Snape and Harry Potter)...

... The Temple of Saturn (the Forum's oldest temple and the ancient state treasury of Rome)...

... The Temple of Julius Caesar (where a pile of flowers decorates the spot where his body was burned following his assassination)...

... and the House of the Vestal Virgins, which was my favorite ruin.  The statues of famous Vestal Virgins lined a courtyard with two brick pools.  On the ruins of the brick walls were these overgrown vines and roses.  It was just a beautiful little area.  I'll quote Rick Steves one more time (I swear this is the last time I will mention him) about the Vestal Virgins: "Chosen from noble families before they reached the age of 10, the six Vestal Virgins served a 30-year term.  Honored and revered by the Romans, they Vestals even had their own box opposite the emperor in the Colosseum.  As the name implies, a Vestal took a vow of chastity.  If she served her term faithfully--abstaining for 30 years--she was given a huge dowry, and allowed to marry.  But if they found any Virgin who wasn't, she was strapped to a funeral car, paraded through the streets of the Forum, taken to a crypt, given a loaf of bread and a lamp...and buried alive.  Many woman suffered the latter fate."

House of the Vestal Virgins

Constantine

After exploring the Roman Forum, we left buzzed on Roman history and visited the Capitoline Museum, which we also got into for free and where the original She-Wolf with Romulus and Remus statue is housed as well as parts of the giant bronze statue of Constantine that was housed in the Basilica Aemilia.  They also have one of his giant feet, but I technically wasn't allowed to take this picture so...

If they hadn't let me take a picture of this statue, I would have done some damage.

After checking my guide book, I realized that I hadn't hit a necessary spot for any classic film or Audrey Hepburn lover: the Bocca della Veritá.  I made Dan stand in a very long line but after we finally got to the Bocca and I stuck my hand into the fateful mouth, the picture was blurry.  Arg!  Oh well.  Just another reason why I need to return to Rome :)

Plus I'm missing my Gregory Peck!  Need a retake!

Yeah, I only ate one of these.

We returned to Trastevere for dinner yet again, though we stopped in a few tourist shops so that Dan could buy a miniature Colosseum and I could buy a miniature of the She-Wolf (which proudly sits on the small stool near my bed at present).  We ate more delicious food at a restaurant with the worst service in the world, then ran through the rain to drink delicious coffee and then get onto a bus back to our hostel.  We stopped in a café, where Dan impressed the waiter by consuming three whole desserts.  Full and a little sugar-high, we returned to the hostel and tried to go to sleep early, though several drunk American girls stationed themselves in our bathroom, unaware of how loudly they were talking about things they did not want anyone else to hear.

And you better think twice before messing with this man's pastries.

That morning Dan caught an early flight and, after checking out, I made my way to the Vatican to see if I could convince the guard to let me into the shop and buy a rosary.  Of course that didn't work out too well, so I ended up getting coffee and a chocolate croissant and then heading to the airport.  After a full day of traveling and a lay over in Madrid, I ended up running into Amy at the Lisbon train station and was never happier to arrive at my apartment as I was that night.

What a fantastic trip.  Even with the poor weather, the lack of the Vatican official tour, and the creepy Italian men, it was still the experience of a lifetime.  I will definitely be returning to Italy someday.

However, I think I'm all traveled out for now.  If I do travel, it will definitely be within Portugal.  I will be quite happy to avoid airports for a little while.  I was looking over this blog and I realized that there was very little about Portugal and much  more about all my travels... and this needs to be remedied.  At least you can look forward to a very Coimbra-centric blog post in a few weeks with the arrival of the infamous and ridiculous week-long party that is the Quiema das Fitas celebration.  I promise you that that week will either be very memorable in one way or another.  As my cousin, who will be returning to Coimbra for the festivities, told me: "Vai ser uma aventura."