Dolly and the Titanic

In August D and I spent a week at home in Missouri with our families. For a short trip, we went with his family to Branson, the down-home, country music center in the Ozarks of Missouri. A land of antiques, family fun, country music shows, and tack. If it is one thing, it is tacky and a magnet for those who love tacky.

Luckily, I LOVE tacky. Yes, I hate chain restaurants, but I'll take a tourist trap any day. I'm not one of those travelers who avoids tourist traps simply because they are such. Don't get me wrong---my very best and most memorable experiences as a traveler have been when I was most deeply embedded in the local culture: a wedding in Morrocco, produce shopping in Parisian markets, spice-shopping in Rome, the cow-herding festival outside of Geneva. But I also took the elevator to the top of the Eiffel Tower, toured the Globe theatre, and saw Bono's house. Honey, I've seen the corn palace, and loved it, despite my food-aversion to corn. Oh no....I love tacky.

So Branson was great fun. We took a long drive along the strip to check out our options before stopping for a family-competitive game of miniature golf at one of many, many places this was possible. Then we ate lunch at Dick Clark's American Bandstand Grill. Oh yes we did. The walls were covered with memorabilia (real or reproduced? unknown. They say real, but who knows?) and we watched old shows while we ate. I had a quite yummy but bad for me spinach artichoke chicken sandwich and an icecream/alcoholic drink despite being in the company of my inlaws. Oh yes. I'm a wild one.

After lunch we walked around the Landing, which is a nice shopping area along Lake Taneycomo that starts at the (what else?) Bass Pro Shop. There are national chains (Kirkland's, Victoria's Secret, Ann Taylor, Yankee Candle, etc.), Missouri-centered shops (Cardinals gear, fishing items, etc.), and boutique-style shops (quilts, crafts, etc.). It's a lovely place to stroll, shop, snack, drink, and listen to street musicians. After this, my SIL and MIL and I went antique/craft shopping without the boys at the Apple Tree Craft and Antique Mall on the Strip. It's a flea-market-style place with booths for people to rent and sell either crafts or antiques. Your money then goes to the individual seller. There's everything from artists, hand-sown garments, antique dolls, holiday crafts, to kitchy collectibles. We spent a long time wandering the aisles, and there was definitely something for everyone. MIL found a painting for her kitchen, SIL found gifts for her parents, and I found the cutest Halloween crafts: old bottles labeled to be items for a witch's brew, such as Newt Eyes and Witch Fingernails. Love it.

The next morning we all went to the Titanic museum, which is exactly what it sounds like, except it's a museum for both the shipwreck AND the film. I would have liked a little more on the ship, but I guess there's not that much to go over, is there? There are few artifacts from the ship itself, for obvious reasons, though they have several from its sister ship that was apparently very similar in design and execution, though, of course, smaller. There are lots of photos and testimonies and stories, as well as artifacts from the movie, such as costumes and autographed scripts. My favorite section was the one where you could climb a fake bow to feel what the angle of entry must have been like for the frightened passengers and put a finger in water the same temperature it was that night, to feel how very quickly your appendage began to hurt and then go numb. It was something. I wouldn't recommend the museum to everyone, and now that I've done it I wouldn't repeat it, but most of our family enjoyed it, including me.

So we didn't see a show, and we didn't do Silver Dollar City. As my in-laws grew up going there, I'm assured I'll have my chance when we introduce grandkids to the mix. But all in all, my first trip to Branson was great fun and a great time with my family. If you were to go, a weekend is plenty of time to understand the place and have a great time, but there's certainly more to do if you want to stay longer.

Remembering Geneva

As an undergrad in Geneva, I attended Webster University Geneva, which is a very international school, with students whose parents are diplomats, foreign executives for multinational corporations, or running from retribution because they ratted on the mafia. This means most of the friends I had there have now moved away. However, I was able to see, stay with, and have a fantastic time with my friend G who still lives there, working for an NGO.

We met at the train station when we parted from students, and he and I walked to have a drink and meet others at La Terrasse, a bar on the lakeside where the Genevois come to drink and relax on the grass in the summertime. It was packed. Some of his friends from work filtered through, and we met up with three others I had known during undergrad: M, P, and N, all of whom work for different UN organizations.

We then walked over near Parc des Bastions to L'Incontro, an Italian restaurant in the plaza in front of the synagogue. Their specialty is penne siciliana, and the four friends insist it's the best in the city. You order it and then are given a second gigantic helping if you want it. Honestly, it's among the best pasta dishes I've ever had...wonderful rich flavor and zing, with the perfect bite from the added picante oil. Genius. Well worth the money and the subsequent bellyache from overeating.

G and I then retrieved my bag from the train station, traveled to his lovely apt, watched Family Guy, and hit the sack.

The next day we slept in late and had a brunch of cheeses, bread, tomatoes, scallions, peaches, eggs, and tea. That G, he knows how to treat guests. Afterward strolled over to the Rue de Marche to buy sunglasses for G and an English language book for me. Behind the rue is the old town, so we walked up to a bar with outdoor seating on the Place Bourg-de-Four. The bar started with a C, but I can't remember the name. I had a panache, something of which I had not previously heard, which is a mixture of beer and something sweet, like Sprite. Just enough sweet to cut the gross beer, and I liked it. Had 2.

We then walked all the way around the lake, which was really lovely, though the sun was so hot as to be scorching. Once we made it to the shade of the Parc Mon Repos, the temperature was perfect. G snoozed a little, I read a little, and the Spanish ladies nearby shouted a lot.

Later we met M and N for ice cream at the outdoor bar next to the previous one, where I ran into a few students heading for dinner at Chez Ma Cousine. We thought about going there too, for old times' sake, but I preferred to go somewhere I had not previously been, so we had Indian at Bollywood (which is ironically the name of my favorite Indian place in Atlanta), in the Paquis. It really was quite delicious, with stuffed naan, and really spicy food. We stuffed ourselves to pain once again.

However, the gelato we obtained across the street at GelatoMania overshadowed the deliciousness of the Indian. I hear it's the best ice cream in Geneva, and I have to say it's at least the most interesting. Every week they have a different bizarre special. The chocolate was good, but paled in comparison to the canelle (cinnamon, my standard), the Pineapple Basil (which was really refreshing), and the Apple Celery (surprisingly wonderful). I couldn't bring myself to try the goat cheese and pesto ice cream, but I bet it was actually good.

We next traveled to the old town to a bar named something like Capaccio on the second floor of the Confederation Center. It was quite ritzy, but with inventive and really nice quality drinks. Unfortunately, it was just so hot that it was difficult to enjoy the place. The people, however, were very enjoyable. In our little group, there was an American (me), a Kosovar, an Indonesian, two Japanese, a Guatemalan, a Nigerian, and a Frenchman. It was very Genevois, as I know no Genevois other than internationals, and perfect.

G and I watched Across the Universe that night, which was exactly as I'd expected it to be, but I liked it more than I expected. In the morning, we had a similar, and just as delicious, brunch as the day before and then met S and P at La Terrace de Paradis, which is another bar situated next to the lake, but further in on the Left Bank, more towards the river. Nothing exciting in terms of fare, but a great spot to hang out and see the day and be with friends. I miss Geneva.

Art, Music, and Light

On Friday, June 29th, I slept all day. I think I had a crepe from a vendor on the street for lunch. Not too much excitement.

In the evening, Kate and I had delicious entrecote et frites (steak and fries, a standard Parisian dish) in an area close to our apartments, and then had one more evening at the Louvre. We knew we couldn't do everything, but we just tried to do a little more than we had done before. Greek and Roman sculpture, including the Venus de Milo and Winged Glory. We also visited Napoelon's apartments, since he used to live in the Louvre before it was the art museum we know today. He certainly was extravagant.

The next day, after several failed attempts over two weeks, we toured L'Opera Garnier. It was still a bit of a failure, since we'd been trying to catch a guided tour of the opera house but found the book to be inaccurate, which was unfortunate. We gave up, and we toured the place on our own. We saw old costumes and miniature sets, in addition to wandering around the really beautiful halls surrounding the auditorium itself. We even had a chance to see the "Phantom's box", though he wasn't there.

We finally left the Palais Garnier, grabbed some quiche in the train station, and headed to Notre Dame. Since I had already been, Kate went up to the top with Judith, who had met us there, while I read my book in the courtyard. It was a nice, relaxing break, though I also had to do a little program organization via cell phone. From there, the three of us walked to the other island in the Seine, L'Ile Saint-Louis. It's mostly a residential spot, but there is a lovely little shopping strip with neat little specialty stores which runs down the center of the island. We went because we hadn't been and also because the island is known for its ice cream. And the rumors are not wrong...the shop where we stopped had gelato that they shaped into a rose on your cone. It was super delicious. I also spent a ridiculous amount of money on a few different varieties of olive oil in an olive oil store. I was in heaven.

Judith headed back to the foyers, but Kate and I continued on to Ste-Chapelle, which is the beautiful chapel Saint Louis (King Louis IX) built to house Jesus's crown of thorns when he acquired the precious relic. Now it can be found in Notre Dame, and they bring them out sometimes. Anyway, Ste-Chapelle is an incredible place, completely surrounded by amazing stained glass windows. If you read from bottom to top, left to right, the windows pictorially represent the entire Bible, from Genesis to Revelations. It's incredible.

Kissing Poets in the Graveyard

June 16

After lunch at the cafeteria with Kate, Judith, and Edgar on a Saturday, Edgar and I broke off and took a trip deep below Paris into the Catacombs. These lie even under the metro system. They were tunnels once dug to supply stone for the buildings of Paris, but they were filled with bodies of those causing disease in the city where they lay in regular cemeteries in the 18^th century. The bones of the dead line your path, used almost like building blocks of a fence around you, with skulls arranged in a pattern of death. It’s surreal. Kate said her trip to the catacombs reminded her you can sleep when you’re dead, so she’s been hitting Paris sights like a whirlwind.

June 17

On Sunday, Kate joined Edgar and me on an excursion in northeastern Paris. First, we attended Sunday mass at Notre Dame at 10 am. This mass features Gregorian chant, which was gorgeous. Despite the irreverence of the tourists they continue to allow in the church while you attend mass, it was a wonderful experience. Even with really creepy, Tim-Burton-style organ music.

Afterward, we set off to find the remains of the Bastille. We went to the Opera Bastille, which is in the area where it once stood. Apparently, it’s the most often visited monument in Paris that doesn’t exist. However, the trusty guidebook suggested we might find leftover bricks, but we found this NOT to be the case. It’s the only time the old book has let me down. (Photo: Where's the Bastille?)

We then had lunch in a true Bohemian bar. We wandered into this place where every patron was a chain smoker, we only listened to obscure, jazz/world music I’d never heard, the walls were lined with well-used books and posters of musicians of which I’d never heard, and we ate weird bar food. Naturally, we were the only tourists in the place.

Nearby, we found Pere La Chaise. It was the most famous cemetery in Paris for me, but I shouldn’t speak for all people. Buried here are famous people such as Chopin, Sarah Bernhardt, and so many more. Over 1 million people reside here, with only 100 000 headstones. Crazy. In particular, we managed to find (after much difficulty, trust me) Camille Pissarro, Edith Piaf, Oscar Wilde, and the place’s most famous dead guy, Jim Morrisson. We found his grave on accident, and I told him exactly what I thought of the Doors, which unfortunately is not complementary. After defaming the dead, I (almost) kissed Oscar Wilde’s grave like so many others have. Who started that crazy tradition?

We attempted to hit the jazz festival in the Bois de Vincennes, but rain forced us to a Salon de The. Instead, we went back downtown and managed to make our way all the way through the Picasso Museum. It was a collection that I think may have been the most extensive in the world. We were exhausted.

A Missing Day

June 11 and 12

On Monday I attempted to catch another opera. Lohengrin was playing at the Opera Bastille, but the girls and I were less than successful in attempting to get tickets. Clearly, when you want student rush tickets on the closing night of a Wagner, you have to be aggressive. Instead, though, we wore our opera clothes to the Cafe Opera, where we had a delicious French dinner, and the girls told me what they like in a professor, for future reference.

However, on Tuesday of that week, we had another group outing, this one fabulously romantic. We began our afternoon at the Musee Quai Branly, the anthropological museum that constitutes Jacques Chirac's cultural contribution to Paris (most of the presidents did such a thing). An anthropological museum, you say? Yes, I do. And it was fantastic. A bizarre looking building, surrounded by a lovely garden. The inside is filled with treasures of indigenous societies from all over the world, both past and present. I, for one, thought it was fascinating.

From there, we walked to the nearby Champs du Mar below the Eiffel Tower for a picnic. Sandwiches, wine, cheese, and great company made for a lovely evening. We also climbed to the top, which is pretty anti-climactic if you've done it before, and seen a better view from Notre Dame. But we climbed it at sunset...which is spectacular. And at night it lights up, complete with sparkles for 10 minutes at the top of the hour. Sigh.

More photos, plus one of our group.

Jazz with the Forgotten, and Marie's Playground

June 9 and 10

On Saturday, I worked all day.

In all honesty, I did try. I chose not to leave my apartment in favor of sightseeing in Paris so I could actually get work done. Seriously. I did a mediocre job at this, but I got, well, some things done.

In the evening, I went out to hear some jazz in the Latin Quarter. Specifically, Kate, Judith and I went to Le Caveau des Oubliettes - the cave of the forgotten. Quite a few of the bars and clubs near Saint-Michel were once basements and even prisons. This one in particular was a prison where people were once left and then forgotten, only to be found again when their bones were pulled out. Now the cave is a jazz club, and a great one at that. It was very cheap, and the music we heard was fantastic. Seriously great. I was so glad we went.

On Sunday, we took a group trip to Versailles, the former home of King Louis IV, V, IV, and Marie Antoinette, before they met their fatal ends. It was even home to Mona Lisa, for a while. We toured the castle, seeing where they slept and the ridiculous wallpaper they chose. Of course, there was also the hall of mirrors, most famous (for me) for being the location of the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, ending WWI.

Afterward, we spent the afternoon in the grounds. On Sundays in the summer, from 3 to 5, they turn on all the magnificent fountains in the gardens, which really is something. It must cost a fortune, explaining why they don't run them all the time. They also spout grand royal marches from speakers throughout the park, making quite a spectacle. It was really something. I think I would have been fine, had it been MY backyard.

Finally, we had a group dinner at a little pizza place nearby in Versailles. Pleasant evenings with pleasant people surely make life a happy existence, don't you think?

Le Destin de Emily

June 7 and 8

The 7th was spent working, although I did a little reading in the Luxembourg Gardens, created, as most public parks were in Paris, as a playground for the royals. The really are beautiful, mostly because they are simply enjoyed. Everyone comes to relax, picnic, read, and exist. It's wonderful.

On Friday, the 8th, the study abroad group visited the US Embassy, located on the Place de la Concorde. One of the officials of the US government gave us a briefing on French politics and US-French relations. I thought is was fascinating, and I was reminded of my undergraduate desire to be a member of the diplomatic service. I'm not designed for it, but I did want it, once upon a time.

In the afternoon, though somewhat cloudy, Shama and I went to Montmarte for a leisurely walk through the playground of Amelie Poulin. We exited the metro system via a bajillion stairs, since we decided to walk rather than lift out of the deepest metro station in Paris. However, we ended up outside of one of the beautiful art nouveau metro stations around Paris, this one made famous from the movie (and other things, I'm certain).

More stair climbing to the top of Montmartre, past tourists and shops to the Basilica Sacre Coeur. It's the highest point in Paris, so says the guidebook, and it really is something. Amelie sent her tricky metro photo booth lover up the winding stairs in from of the church, and the top provides a beautiful view of Paris. Well, when it's clear. The inside of the church is incredibly beautiful, with tiny chapels tucked back behind the alter and mosaics everywhere. Not as breathtaking as the St. Louis Basilica, but oh so much older...

We walked past the myriad of artists attempting to sell their mediocre oil renditions of the Eiffel Tower and had a crepe covered in chocolate, ice cream and goodness. A walk past Van Gogh's former residence and the last remaining real windmill in Paris (Moulin, of course, means windmill) brought us to the Cemetiere de Montmartre. I, for one, love to see buried famous people. I think it rocks. So we paid respects to Alexandre Dumas, Hector Berlioz, Edgar Degas, and Francois Truffaut, in the (dead) flesh. Remarkable, how the French can stuff so many people in tiny tiny spaces. They just stack them one on top of another. Incredible.

We also got a little too close to the red light district in an effort to photograph the Moulin Rouge. It's super expensive to catch a show and dinner, so we just hit the outside. It looks just as you'd expect, but it's still worth it to see it in the flesh. (Heh heh.)

My Favorite View

June 6

I went off on my own today after class. Sometimes sightseeing on your own is fantastic, since there is no one to slow you down or rush you through anything you want to see. On the other hand, there's no one to whom I can turn to say, Holy Gargoyles! Look at that rose window! It's the largest in Europe! which makes the experience slightly less cool, or at least not as cool as it could be.

That being said, I traveled to Notre Dame. I'd visited it before on my weekend trip to Paris in 2002, but I didn't go in at the time because mass was being said, and I didn't climb to the top. Today I did both, and it was well worth the wait. The vaulted ceilings are monumental, and incredibly gorgeous. Without those famous flying buttresses, the whole place would cave in on itself. Incredible. And there are THREE marvelous rose windows telling Mary's story. Mind-boggling. My pictures are only okay....you'd be better served by a google image search than my flashless photos.

I then suffered through a French woman's (fairly common) inability to respect lines in order to climb to the top and see Paris from above. On the climb you get a closer look at the delicate intricacies of the facade, the archways, the gargoyles made famous in a WB cartoon, and the bell Quasimodo rang only in fiction. It was pretty cool...particularly the views of Paris. The Eiffel Tower and the Seine, or Sacre Coeur at Montmartre on the other side.

I had dinner that night in a cafe by myself. That's when I missed Darick. Dinner by myself used to be fine, and now I'm spoiled.

As a side note, the French ability to eat beef tartare (raw ground hamburger meat) baffles me. Baffles.

Glass Orchestras and Inky Tentacles

Off to Venice, or Venezia. I had been there before, when I studied abroad in Geneva, so I didn't take many repeated photos. However, the sights are no less breath-taking the second time around. I imagine I could return to Venice a thousand times and never get tired of the beauty, the smallness, the romance, the tourists, the shopping, the pigeons, the Italians, or anything. I care not that it's almost overrun with tourists. It's incredible, with nothing to which I might compare it. Venice is among the most incredible things I've seen in my short lifetime, and though other things might compete with it, nothing will compare to it.

Our courier, Sebastian, who was our companion on the entire tour, coordinating with venues, hotels, restaurants, tour guides, everything, was a Venice resident, so he took us on a little walking tour on the way to meet our guides, informing us of good places for gelato and groceries. We then went on a cool walking tour with a terrible, racist guide. He kept cracking snide remarks about Japanese tourists until one of our (half-Japanese) choir members spoke up. We saw the Rialto bridge, packed with shops, the beautiful Ca d'Oro, and a fish market. We also saw a beautiful spiral staircase, which my guidebook (though not our terrible guide) told me is rumored to have been designed by Leonardo da Vinci. Since the choir sang a wild piece about Leonardo, we were particularly interested in those things related to him. We also saw the opera house, and progressed our way to the Piazza San Marco, made famous in so many movies and diamond commercials. We went into the Basilica for about 4 minutes, but it was fascinating. Most fascinating, I thought, was the fact that the floor is sinking in various places, making the marble floor very uneven as you make your way through the cathedral.

After breaking off from the group, a few of us walked up the grand canal, shopped a little, and slowly made our way back toward the hotel, getting lost in corners a few times. We stopped for dinner, and true to my conviction to eating local food, I had cuttlefish in the Venetian style. When reading that the specialty in Venice is seafood, I should have paid attention to the section of the guidebook explaining that the Venetian style is boiled in squid ink. I only ate about a third. It was too, um, rich, for me.

The next morning, Emily, Dipika and I headed to the islands. I was determined to buy gifts for everyone while in Venice. What makes a better gift than beautiful, hand-blown glass from Venice? So we walked once again to the Piazza San Marco and jumped on the Vaporetto (water-bus) around the main island. Our first stop was the cemetery island where the Venetians are buried. There is buried one of Darick's favorite composers, Igor Stravinsky, so I took a photo for him. Also of note were the cypress trees all over the cemetery. These trees are all over Italy, but they are particularly notable in cemeteries, since they reach toward heaven.

Finally, we ended up at Murano, where artisans blow glass that is reknowned around the world. The trade is passed through families rather than through schools, and one must be an apprentice for 20 years before having one's own shop. We were able to watch a demonstration, and it was fantastic. We then shopped, all day. It was fantastic. You'd never believe the kinds of things they can make of blown glass. I bought, of course, Christmas ornaments for myself, and gifts for others. At one point, I saw an entire tiny orchestra, no player larger than an inch and a half, made of delicate glass. It was incredible.

We sang that evening in a church built in the year one thousand, to another really receptive audience, composed of about half tourists. It was really nice, with another decent performance. Afterward we ate dinner on a dock on the canal, facing the sunset. It was perfect, as only Venice can be.

To flourish

Fiorenze. The city of Florence was named from the verb meaning to flourish. And flourish one does.

The city is beautiful, if not filled to the brim with tourist curiosities, like Rome. We began our tour, after a beautiful drive through Tuscany to get there, at the Duomo. The cathedral of Florence is built of marble. Though marble is common inside many buildings in Italy and greater Europe, it is rare on the outside, since it weathers so poorly. The builders of the Duomo were not to be deterred, though, and the building is covered in gorgeous designs in white, red, and green marble. Inside is also an architectural marvel - a dome created of gothic arches, never to be repeated to this day in human history.

Our walking tour, behind a slow-moving but well-informed Italian guide, took us past all of the glories of Florence - the original home of Michelangelo's David, a demonstration of the world's first graffiti (a derivation of the Italian word for scratching), the reported home of Mona Lisa, and many, many churches. Post tour, Dipika and Emily and I wandered back to most of the places the guide had breezed past, such as Dante's home and some gorgeous churches. We went past the Uffizi. Without Darick to enjoy them with me, I chose not to indulge in most art museums on the trip. While I realize I passed up some of the most world-reknowned art there is, such as the Sistine Chapel and the Uffizi, I'll be back. I married an artist, after all. However, we did visit the real David in the Galleria della Accademia, and it was incredibly impressive. The true masters are known as such for a very important reason. No pictures allowed in the museum, so I took mine with the replica in its original location.

We then crossed the river (Arno? maybe that's in Rome...) via the Ponte Vecchio. The bridge is lined with shops, which were once occupied by livestock vendors. Merchants, however, decided it was too smelly and ran all of them out. Now the bridge is lined with fine jewelers....thirty or so all lined up next to each other. It's quite a sight. On the other side, one finds the Medici palace, where the family lived who once ruled Florence and commissioned great works of the Renaissance.

On our way back to meet the group, we stopped at a restaurant off the beaten path recommended by the trusty guide book. I can't emphasize enough how much my guide book rocks, and I'd highly recommend traveling with one and relying on it for guidance. This restaurant was all Florence, with Florentine ingredients and recipes. It was hands down the best meal in Italy, and perhaps one of the best of my life. The recipes were rich with sausage and truffles and ham and the ingredients were just exploding with flavor. And cheap! So so good. If you are headed to Florence, ask me for the name of this place when I can look it up at home. You won't regret it.

We stayed at a hotel in Montecatini, about 45 minutes drive from Florence. There was nothing to do there. I won't bore you with details.

Next morning we went as a group to the Piazzale Michelangelo, a point (now really a parking lot) on a hill near the city where you can see the whole city. Apparently it's one of the best sunset views in the universe, but we didn't catch it at sunset. It is still remarkable though. After that, a group lunch that couldn't compare with the dinner of the night before, plus there were clandestine chicken livers making the meal a bit spoiled. However, we then shopped, which is really what one does in Florence. Ice cream and shopping for leather and paper goods. I purchased both, plus olive oil. Then the choir packed up and headed to the Tuscan countryside to sing at a 700 year-old church as part of a chianti festival. This time, well rehearsed, we sang much better, and the audience seemed so excited to have us there! They even threw us a reception afterward, and though none of us could talk to them (except one of our students) we were all appreciative of each other. It was a great time. Here are olive trees next to the church, in a Tuscan grove. Sigh.

Empires and Ice Cream

Choir tour began after a (thankfully) non-stop flight to Rome. We de-planed, passed customs, checked into our hotel (actually a religious institute run by nuns) and then went on a guided tour of the Colosseum and the Roman forum. It really is remarkable to see the things that you've seen your whole life in books and in mediocre Academy-award-winning films. The Colosseum was, well, colossus. It has weathered time well, and is awe-inspiring.

Our tour guide knew much more information than we, jet-lagged and weary choristers, could really handle, but it was great all the same. Once you get inside, you can see the rooms that were underneath the wooden floor in ancient times, where the gladiators powdered their noses and the animals took their final snooze. You can also see the marble stairs where royalty watched the events from shaded areas and the archeologists still digging for lost artifacts. To attempt to get a mental handle on how old the place is can be baffling.

We then continued to tour the Roman forum and the various temples and archways around the area. The forum is where the soldiers hung out, gambling and going to market and whatnot. The house of Vestigal Virgins provides a good story, though not much to see, and the nearby palace was restored by Michelangelo himself. Though I didn't see where Julius bit the dust, we did see the place where his funeral pyre burned.

That night, after a bit of a necessary rest, we had a group dinner. We had one provided group meal in each city, which was a nice reprieve from the money that I didn't have but was spending anyway. The Italians eat what I would consider an outrageous amount of food at any given meal, and we did the same at these group meals. So bread, two pasta dishes, a meat dish, and a dessert. While the first meal was fairly uneventful, the dessert was remarkable--mille folgie--or a thousand leaves. It's many layers of pastry filled with a delicious custard. I melted.

On our way back to the institute, we traversed through the Vatican City, right through Saint Peter's Square. At night, the fountains and the buildings are lit on all sides, which is quite remarkable to behold. Since I am old, and a wuss, I did not go out after dinner that night, but the walk home through the Vatican City was a perfect way to end the evening.

The next day began with the Piazza Navona, a cute little piazza surrounded by cafes and filled with fountains. From there we walked to one of the great architectural finds of the world, the Pantheon. Its dome is poured concrete, and it's still unknown as to how it was constructed. And at the center is a hole for light, which tells the time on the walls of the internal structure. Here lies great emperors, and Raphael.

We then continued on a walking tour of the beautiful sights of Rome. We visited the Trevi Fountain, of La Dolce Vita and Frank Sinatra fame. It's the fountain of "Three Coins in the Fountain." According to local legend, if you throw one coin into the fountain, you'll return to Rome within the year. If two, you'll find love in Rome, and if three, wedding bells will soon ring. Since I didn't need the latter two, I only tossed one. We also went past the former home of Lord Byron, and took a hike up the Spanish steps, most famous, for me anyway, from Roman Holiday. A jaunt into Piazza Populi, then we headed out for pizza and some gelato. It was a busy day. In the late afternoon came our first performance of the tour. We sang, as a choir, as part of a mass at Saint Peter's Basilica. While I expected it to be, say, "neat," I was amazed at how wonderful the experience was. Being in the cathedral itself was remarkable, knowing I walked on ground over the body of Saint Peter, and passing the marvelous Pieta, now behind bulletproof glass to protect it from axe-wielding maniacs. We sang our own pieces as the regular parts of the mass, during the preparation of the gifts, communion, etc. The whole experience was very solemnifying for me--perhaps not for others in my group, but at least for me. While the mass was said in Italian, I could tell at which point we were and go along in English. It was incredible. Except the pigeon traipsing his way across the altar. The altar boys almost lost it.

Dinner that night on a side street near Vatican city with some fellow graduate students. In each city I attempted to eat at least one dish that was not only Italian, but was specific to the region in both recipe and ingredients. In Rome, that was pasta ala carbonara, and it was delicious in this particular place. Again, I ate too much. However, I still managed some gelato for a passagiata (post-dinner walk) through Vatican city. The place we ate that night remains my favorite gelateria of Italy--it was so incredibly creamy and wonderful. The flavors were gloriously vibrant. It was like a masterpiece of Italian ice cream.

On our last day in Rome, Dipika (my roommate for the tour) and I did a little more back-street exploring. We climbed to the top of the Castel Sant' Angelo, where the pope once saw a vision of an angel sheathing his sword, bringing an end to the plague in Italy. From the top, you can see the whole of Rome, which is fantastic to see. From there, we walked to the Campo dei Fiori--the flower market--to wander the stalls. I purchased spices, ready made for delicious pasta. We had pizza for lunch in the Jewish ghetto, which was once run down but is now a great place for liveliness and food. In this area, which pushes up against the ancient city, there is a church, called something I can't remember but is similar to Our Lady of the Fish Market. This is where the Jews were once forced to go to mass, but they defiantly put wax in their ears. It's a beautiful medieval church, and in the front is an old drain cover known as the Bocca della Verita, or Mouth of Truth. According to legend, and Gary Cooper, the mouth bites off the hands of liars. I passed the test.

That night we left the city of Rome for a concert in the surrounding hills, in a town called Fiorentino (I think). The roads in the city were so small that we had to park the bus outside it and walk to the center to the church. It was perfect. My camera battery had died, so I have no photos of this place, but it was remarkable. It was a smallish crowd, and we sang terribly on almost every piece. It was a nice experience, nonetheless. Back to Rome that night for a pizza dinner once again, and the next morning we headed off to Florence.