You can call me: The Situation

Sometimes I think my purpose on this world is simply to entertain others. If there is some higher power watching over us, I think he/she/it put here simply for entertainment, for I always seem to get myself into relatively absurd situations which become quite interesting to get myself out of. Though not always am I the protagonist in these situations, but I am at the very least a witness. Maybe I just notice things and/or subconsciously do weird things to entertain myself, I really am not quite sure. But let’s recall some of Nicole’s interesting adventures and thoughts on the matter. Rome was pretty straight foreword. There was the twilight adventure, which was pretty cool. Then I saw a kid get hit by a taxi drive: not just hit, but nailed by a crazy taxi driver making a left hang turn. Which by the way, drivers in Italy are out on a mission to injure/murder tourists, which is odd because at every bar they seem to love Americans… Anyways, there are no speed limits within the city boundaries and no lanes either for that matter. Essentially the roads are free for alls: Vespas racing Vespas, both racing pedestrians. Also people seem to ride Vespas, motorcycles, crotch rockets a little differently here. In the states you will see the machos in leather jackets on the Harleys kinda leaning back, giving the message, “I’m the shit, I’m an American”. Then you have the boys leaning unnecessarily foreword on crotch rockets, often with girls clinging on to them for dear life because there is no backrest for the poor ladies to brace themselves against. Now I must say I am more a fan of the crotch rockets in the states and totally would get one (that I already have picked out) 1) if I had the money that I just spent in Europe, and 2) if there was anyway my parents would allow such a thing but I know my dad would find some way or some bill to make me pay so I could never get such a thing. Ok, but anyways here in Europe there are some crotch rockets, not necessarily as many Honda’s and Yamahas as in the U.S, but more like intense BMWs and really nice ones that you don’t see everyday in Ohio. And if it’s not a nice bike here, it’s usually a pretty pimped out Vespa, my favorite being a bubblegum pink Vespa LX something. And these bikes line every street corner. What is really sweet is that people wear their work uniforms and girls will drive with fancy dresses on and pimped out heals. It would be so badass if they weren’t on Vespas. Now, you wouldn’t think that these things could be such a hazard, especially considering that people drive them sitting unnaturally erect, but they are quite dangerous and can cause serious damage (was a witness) to poor unsuspecting tourists.

Alrite enough ranting about European Vespas. I guess the main entertaining story of Rome happened in the Roman Forum. I honestly couldn’t tell you exactly what the Roman forum was used for other than meeting of the Senate, where the Vestigal virgins lived were, and some miscellaneous temples of some sort. I probably would have learned a bit more if the monuments a.k.a. piles of stones and pillars were actually labeled in accordance with the map I was given, and if plaques on these stones had been in English instead of Latin. All in all, it was a pretty miserable experience, for nothing was easy to find or labeling to be ergonomically friendly (thank you U.S engineers and marketers for making life so easy). The main walkway was a series of boulders to climb over. I guess at one point it was a very nice road where victory processions would be carried out, however, when Napoleon conquered the city, he and is men tore up the road because they thought it was in too good of condition to actually be the real thing…retards. And of course people like to “Preserve history” and so still haven’t redone the damn thing. Eventually I got tired of fiddling with the damn audio guide and slipping and sliding over boulders, so I decided to be a good American and wander and destroy things. So, I went underground into what was part of a long series of Roman aqueducts. At first all seemed well; there were lights and even a billboard with some information about Emperor Nero. The only misgiving I had is that there was not a single other person in sight. Eh I figured this site was just hard to find and so continued down the tunnel. After a few twists and turns, I was in complete darkness, no one else around, with water dripping on me, and no solid ground to walk on. It was then that I figured out I probably was a bit of the beaten path and not exactly in a main tourist zone. But I had no idea how to get back and figured continuing on was just as good an idea as turning back around. So, I prayed that no stones would fall on me, tried not to freak myself out in complete darkness, and continued on. Eventually I tripped over something that I soon discovered to be stairs. I almost kissed them I was so excited, for at that point I knew that up was good and down was very, very bad. As I climbed the stairs, I was able to see more and more of the grossness around me as the stairwell became lighter and lighter. Eventually I came to a small opening that I crawled out of only to end up smack dab in the middle kinda close to what I think was the hut of Romulus. Well, I didn’t rightly want to go back that’s for sure, so I decided to do my part in destroying history and proceeded to climb over pillars and stones dating back to the first century A.D. As I was climbing trying to make my way back to the main pathway, families stopped to stare and take pictures of me. Great, not only was I desecrating tombs and ancient ruins, I was being recorded doing so!! After a bit of trekking I made it back to the main path and realized I was fenced in. Damn it. I only saw one option: to climb the fence (granted it really wasn’t that high but still a bit of challenge for me in my boot and a skirt). But I made it safely over, all the while, being watched, now by multiple families. I brushed myself off, waved to everyone (thought about bowing), and continued on my way.

Then there was Florence…

Florence was undoubtedly amazing, but I do think Rome beats out over Florence despite the better food and more relaxed atmosphere there. My trip to Florence consisted of lots of carbs, lots of art and markets. One infamous market—the San Lorenzo market—proved to be quite the experience. Italy, namely Florence is known for its leather. My purse, almost reaching its final breaking point—literally—needed to be replaced. So we ventured there on this mission. During my purse-searching endeavor, I found this leather jacket that I fancied quite a bit and with it came an overly friendly storeowner, Freddie. The day that I was there was Freddie’s birthday. Freddie and I talked for a while and I ventured into his hut/tent thing to check out some more stuff. As I walked in I saw beer cans lining the table, I mean it was his birthday, who doesn’t drink at work for birthdays…. Leather goods became a thing of the past as Freddie continued hitting on me calling me his beautiful American girl (Fyi people love American girls here, why, I’ not sure I want to know). We left the shop and went out for drinks while Saimah tried on clothes. After numerous drinks, Saimah joined and Freddie covered hers as well. Later, I pestered Freddie about the jacket that I liked so much, which initially cost 395 Euros or something in that range. Eeek, way to steep for a student on a budget. I kept trying to give it to me for free haha but knew that was never going to happen. His response was that if I lived in Italy and was his girlfriend then I could have anything in the store for free haha. So I then asked him if he would get me a bike to go with it. He said he had a horse that he could give me. shakes head. Well, he ended up giving me the jacket for 90, which was totally worth it in my book, especially because when I asked another owner how much she would pay for the jacket, she said 140. Then when Freddie told his co-owner the price, she got pissed, glared at me, said something in Italian, and stormed out of the shop. I later asked him (after he and another gay guy paid for numerous drinks and dinner for Saimah and I) how much he actually paid for the jacket, which was 120, so I think I got a pretty good deal for a pretty badass jacket. Now I just need a bike to go with it ;)

A couple other interesting things happened in Florence, namely hanging out with some Arizona bros with Venti sunglasses. We had fun, were hated in the Ufuzzi museum for making fun of the artwork, which by the way, if you look all the women are pretty jacked up. This is because at the time there were no female models, so painters would use male models and just add female heads. Not only do the paintings have nude manly looking women, but also all the men in the paintings were very feminine. As I walked around and looked at the paintings, lines from “The Hangover” kept popping in my head, such as when I saw a famous painting of a naked child with his hand on his crotch. While everyone else stared and admired this painting for who knows why, all I could think was “Not at the table Carlos”, which ended up with me laughing almost in tears and other Europeans glaring at me.

Not too much happened in Venice. We met up with some other Clevelanders—it is such a small world—trudged through the sinking city, which is really quite beautiful, but really meant for couples, and is actually kinda depressing if you’re single.

Barcelona has been very relaxing. I ventured out to a Salvador Dali tribute museum, which turned out to be a porn museum run by two creepy old men; each painting having the same underage model, no piece actually done by Dali. I quickly left there, saw a cool looking convent that was open and so of course walked in, straight into a Spanish demonstration/rally/riot saying how they hated foreigners in their country. Hmm didn’t really fit in too well there either and so booked it out of there.

City is beautiful and has been a blast otherwise. I definitely think if there is one city I’ve seen so far that I think I could live in—despite the anti-foreigner rally—I think it would be Barcelona.