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The Dichotomy of Tourism in Venice

Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines tourism as this:

Main Entry: tour·ism

Pronunciation: \ˈtu̇r-ˌi-zəm\

Function: noun

Date: 1811

1 : the practice of traveling for recreation
2 : the guidance or management of tourists
3 a : the promotion or encouragement of touring b : the accommodation of tourists

None of these definitions include a description of the atypical tourist, yet we all have a picture in our head of what one looks like.  My cliche tourist would be wearing velcro sandals with socks, which now I have learned have a great practicality to them.  In my short time in Europe, I destroyed about 5 beloved pairs of shoes just from normal activities.  They became worn, tattered, and covered in dirt.  If I were to throw a pair of socks on, it would be a lot cheaper then discarding a pair of shoes.  This man would also have a fanny packed stocked with essentials; laminated map, guide book, passport, local currency, chap-stick and suntan lotion with SPF, and some sort of translation book.  He would be wearing some type of loose tropical shirt to salvage him from the scorching temperatures that he’s unaccustomed to and have a gigantic camera strapped across his body, maybe even a water bottle.

Let’s call this tourist Frank.  Frank hopped on a plane from Chicago.  He lives just north in a small suburb called Lake Geneva, Wisconsin.  Lake Geneva is a small, but affluent town that is a getaway for Chicagoites.  His plane lands in Venice and he clumsily gets on the orange bus line to P.Le Roma.  It’s a bittersweet feeling for him.  He’s confused where to go, but thankful that he’s reached his final destination: La Serenissima.  Frank somehow manages to purchase a ticket and finds his hotel in the famed San Marco Square.  Wife and kids follow religiously in tow taking in the sights.  He’s approached by a gaggle of African men trying to sell nicknacks and miscellaneous junk.  Although he’s slightly curious, he resists and finally stumbles into his Best Western.  The family collapses onto the bed and nurses their exhausted bodies and recharge themselves to soak in all of the prime sightseeing locations.

My question is this, when did Frank and tourism become such a despicable thing?  I spent most of my trip trying to live incognito with the locals.  Traveling in such a large group, sometimes this was hard but I was able to assimilate into local culture by the end of the trip.  I feared wearing flashy clothing and sticking out.  When I travel, my main goal is to blend in and live the most simple and native life possible.  Where did Frank go wrong?  It’s much more than his obnoxious floral shirt and fanny pack.  His irreversible ecological damage is far worse than a fashion faux pas.  Let’s break down his journey just from the air port to San Marco and leave out air travel.   

Tourism is a bit of a catch 22.  Most places, especially underdeveloped nations rely on it, sometimes as a sole source of income.  Venice certainly benefits from it economically, but it’s hurting the fragile infrastructure in far more ways.  Now that our globe is trying to make a more valiant effort towards conservation, conscious’ are spiked with interest, but only when convenient for them.  For example, if someone gives you the choice between recycling a plastic bottle, or receiving $100 for throwing it in the trash, which would you decide?  For as green as I am, there would be no hesitation for the cash.  Venice is suffering from the same dilemma.
15 million people pass through Venice during it’s peak travel season in the summer months (Appendix 1).  Being there in the beginning of the season, it’s a sickening experience to witness.  Cruise boats and day trippers clog the streets and pollute with their litter and congestion.  During the nights it gets a bit more sparse, but none the less is still a concern.  “Unless the environment is safeguarded, tourism is in danger of being a self-destructive process, destroying the very resources upon which it is based (Environmental Contradictions in Sustainable Tourism).”  Do you think that Frank cares that his family consumed 5 litres of water at lunch?  There’s no space in their conscious for the disposal of those glass bottles that it was served in.  Ironically, Frank and his family dined on a water front dock with pollution floating beneath, they were just too ravenous to notice.

Anthropologist Amanda Stronza penned an article titled Anthropology of Tourism: Forging New Ground for Ecotourism and Other Alternatives.  In it, she makes the point that throughout history, there has been little research done that evaluates the tourist.  It’s been mainly a polarized studying between the effects of tourism and the motives for it.  Her basic analysis of why a tourist decides to travel is this:  “The act of seeing sights ‘in person’ and then sharing the experience with others through photographs, souvenirs, and stories allows tourists to reassemble the disparate pieces of their otherwise fragmented lives.  Through tourism, then, life and society can appear to be an orderly series of representations, like snapshots in a family album (Stronza 266).”  She later goes on to say that “leisure travel is indeed like a pilgrimage, one that can lift people out of the ordinary structures of their everyday lives.”

These are great basic observations, but what are the results of these pilgrimages and holidays?  Traditional conclusions about tourism are grim and pessimistic.  I would have to say that I agree with that, especially in Venice’s case.  In developing countries, tourism offers great economic opportunities for development.  Yes, the host nations always runs the risk of developing a dependence on the outside world, but aren’t we all connected anyway?  What’s one more guest at a dinner party.  Venice is hardly developing.  With such rich history dating back to 421 AD, you can hardly call Venice a developing nation.  They need to focus on preservation.  Venetian residents are being pushed out of their native home because the tourism industry has sucked up any career advancement opportunities and driven prices too high for the average person.

With the Venetians being forced out, this leaves the fate of Venetian culture in the hands of very few.  Another anthropologist, Urry, coined the term “the tourist gaze.”  It’s basic principal is that the tourists travel to a place with a preconceived notion of what to expect and how the locals should act, dress, and behave.  Going hand and hand with this, the locals play into it and solicit stereotypical goods and souvenirs.  While sometimes this is a good thing, I look at it as being a negative one.  

Traveling with such a large group of unexperienced world travelers (I include myself as well,) some were sucked into this trap.  They purchased endless amounts of goods that were to me, clearly made in China.  If someone were to travel to New Jersey to visit, I would show them the real New Jersey; the shore, great and fresh produce - not Newark airport’s souvenir shop.  Things that are authentically native to New Jersey.  I wouldn’t take them to a bodega and feed them packaged chips.  It is this sort of thing that I wish tourists had a more keen eye or.  With the 15 million tourists each July, Venice is loosing it’s authenticity.  I had to nearly go on a wild goose chase to find what I think is the only leather-smith left in Venice.  Trades are being outsourced for cheaper qualities.  This was a problem in the United States with modernization but what happens when the Chinese decide to inflate labor costs?  It’s a scary chain of events that we’re in for.

With the fate of Venice looming in the tourist’s grimy and infected hands, I hope that they will soon realize what they’re doing.  They need to recognize that the fastest dollar is not always the most beneficial.  Although that may be an unfortunate truth that only myself and a few others realize, everyone will soon enough.

Playing into the “growth” and expansion of Venice, I recall having a conversation while I was in Venice with Marina that it was a proposed idea to dig an underground tunnel that connects Marco Polo to Venice and Lido.  Amsterdam is looking to alleviate their traffic clogged streets by creating a series of underground tunnels for cars and shops that correspond to their lagoon system above.  Their lagoons are controlled by locks and it would be easy for them to dig and put the tunnels in place beneath their marshy and similar terrain.  Although this may be a great engineering feat, I think that it is despicable.  Has our world grown so large that there’s no more space to grow upwards?  Our only option left is to plunge into the depths of hell.

I was not able to find any documents about the underground Venetian tunnel but dredging is a large concern.  On a visit to Torcello, I was able to see a close example of what Venice was like years ago.  It was marshy, natural, and what the Adriatic ecosystem should look like.  Even Torcello was being over run by silt.  You can only mechanically intervene so far until mother nature takes back control (Appendix 2).  Dredging is one of the main attributing factors for the rising sea level.  The city is sinking and if more dredging is planned for the expansion of the port, that will surely be a nail in the coffin.

As to any argument, there are two sides.  In Venice’s situation, they have to seriously sit down and weigh out the pro’s and con’s to their predicament.  They are in grave danger for what’s in store.  This was most evident to me on our final night in Venice.  The same holes that are responsible for discarding rain water were flooding the city.  It makes a great photo but the actuality and reality of what really is happening is nothing short of horrific.  Weather conditions and floods are worsening in the winter, but in the dead of summer, tides are increasing as well.

In conclusion, there are plenty of things to love and cherish about Venezia.  It’s a beautiful, historic, and powerful city that has been in existence with all it’s might for ages.  However, this new millennium has put it onto the endangered species list.  Many changes need to take place in order to preserve and salvage the damage that has been done otherwise, it will become extinct. 

Works Cited

"BBC NEWS | Europe | Venice Is Hit by Serious Flooding." BBC NEWS | News Front Page. 1 Dec. 2008. Web. 29 June 2010. <http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/7758204.stm>.

Duff, Mark. "BBC NEWS | Europe | Venice Launches Tourist Website." BBC NEWS | News Front Page. Web. 30 June 2010. <http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7863349.stm>.

"Environmental Contradictions in Sustainable Tourism." Environmental Contradictions in Sustainable Tourism (1994). J Store. Web. 29 June 2010. <http://www.jstor.org.library.ramapo.edu:2048/stable/3059924?&Search=yes&term=tourism&list=hide&searchUri=%2Faction%2FdoBasicSearch%3FQuery%3Dtourism%26wc%3Don%26dc%3DAll%2BDisciplines&item=2&ttl=27997&returnArticleService=showArticle>.

"Environmental Groups Fears Venice Dredging." Dredging News Online. 09 Sept. 2009. Web. 30 June 2010. <http://www.sandandgravel.com/news/article.asp?v1=12072>.

Stronza, Amanda. "Antrhopology of Tourism: Forging New Ground for Ecotourism and Other Alternatives." Annual Reviews (2001). J Store. Web. 30 June 2010. <http://www.jstor.org.library.ramapo.edu:2048/stable/3069217?seq=1&Search=yes&term=tourism&list=hide&searchUri=%2Faction%2FdoBasicSearch%3FQuery%3Dtourism%26wc%3Don%26dc%3DAll%2BDisciplines&item=7&ttl=27997&returnArticleService=showArticle&resultsServiceName=doBasicResultsFromArticle>.

"Tourism - Bar Chart." Direzione Sistema Statistico Regionale - HomePage. Web. 30 June 2010. <http://statistica.regione.veneto.it/ENG/jsp/barre.jsp>.

Waterfield, Bruno. "New Underground City Planned for Amsterdam - Telegraph." Telegraph.co.uk: News, Business, Sport, the Daily Telegraph Newspaper, Sunday Telegraph - Telegraph. 9 Feb. 2008. Web. 30 June 2010. <http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/1578139/New-underground-city-planned-for-Amsterdam.html>.

Willey, David. "BBC NEWS | Europe | Venice Tourism Squeezes out Residents." BBC NEWS | News Front Page. Web. 30 June 2010. <http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/6297727.stm>.

A Baby United Nations - All the Memorable People That I Met

Argentina!


The Flamini Brothers, heartthrobs, I think one had a child- We met them one of the first nights.  They led us to Santa Margarhita so we are forever grateful.  They then led us to the mysterious night club we deemed "Narnia-" it was never to be found again.  All in all, a great time.

The Brits

There were a gaggle of them.  One group was a group of diverse students - French, Asian, and British.  Then there were the British chaps.  My favorite one was immaculately dressed in 

something to the affect of a 3 piece Ralph Lauren 
suit.  What a trip!  I discussed some pretty heavy hitting topics with these guys.  The ridiculous one in the suit told me that he was "old money" but his family was on the decline.  The burden was on his shoulders to regain their status so he was joining the royal navy upon his return.  What a prick!  Other topics discussed were American politics, parliamentary government, Italian politics, and the importance of serving in the armed forces when pursuing a political career.  These guys were probably my favorite because I could actually have an intellectually stimulating conversation with them.



Albania
Tony, Gomy, and Eddie-
They just wanted sex.  Thanks, but no thanks.  Eddie was a really sweet guy.

Padovians
Manuel, the break dancer, and Guilio, the unattractive translator and ACTV worker.  We met these two on the way back from Lido.  We were uncomfortably crammed into an area with them.  Manuel was a real cutie but Guilio was the lingual link.  A bunch of us obliged to go out with them one night.  We met up and got pizza.  We shared a few pitchers of birra and spritz.  Pass me the beer - spritz is nauseating.  I couldn't even begin to describe the taste.  It's bitter and I think has some prosecco in it - a local favorite, but not for me.  Kelly and I shared a prosciutto pizza.  They all ordered pizza with french fries on top - ew.  One slightly hilarious observation from the meal was that out of the 5 girls that were with us, we all housed our meal in 1/2 the time that they were eating.  Gluttonous Americans!  When it came to paying, Guilio insisted he take care of all of us; "I'm in the mafia."  WTF - but he did have some sort of card that must have taken care of it.  They all invited us to their parent's houses; "My mom with cook for you!"  No thanks, but thanks for perpetuating the stereotype.  We went out to the bars afterwards with them.  Giulio sucked down 3 flaming absynths and got out of control - we ran.  Manuel sent an apology note the next day on Facebook which was nice.  Moral of the story - Italians blatantly state when they want to fuck.


America!
New Yorkers (upstate) - Extremely sweet and courteous, backpacking through Europe.
South Jersey - I ran from them.  I can meet a Jersey kid any day of the week.  They reminded me too much of home.
Vanderbilt Law Students - Studying in Venice.  Definitely baby lawyers, pompous, outspoken and perpetually difficult to get the point across.  I told one girl that her Free People dress was cute and she told me to go fuck myself and New York was the epitome of scum.  Your welcome?  I nearly decked her, but, I walked away.

Meeting such a diverse amount of people made the trip.  Just visiting the sites was only half of the experience.

Venice Final Thoughts

Venice is certainly a city that I will continue to return to.

People who I spoke with prior to the trip said something similar to that effect.  Those who stayed less time have less of an allegiance and connection.  Our final night, the whole group dined out at a friendly restaurant.  There was a three course price fixe that Kathy and Marina arranged for us.  Prosecco and water were also amply provided. 

BREAD: Bread is almost always served but never any olive oil.  I think the group as a whole missed butter.  Later on when Kelly and I were on the plane back home, they served butter to us.  What a strange concept!?  Butter on bread, butter itself?  Some people eagerly surveyed the area for olive oil but were stopped by Marina.  "We just don't to that here."  She was very defensive of the her proper culture, and I respect and commend that.  I don't blame here, that's how culture is preserved.

Course One:  A perfectly served al dente bowtie tossed in a light olive oil and finely diced vegetables.  Yum!  We had a few finicky eaters.  This was a rather plain dish but I watched on as some used the entire parmesan provided to completely mask the taste of the pasta.  To me, that's a shame.  I also watched another pick out each vegetable.  I'm not one to mix food on my plate but if it's pre-blended and served that way, there must be a reason for it.  In this case, the pairings were exquisite.

Course Two: Tender veal in a lemon reduction paired with caramelized carrots (covered in sesame seeds) and gently baked potatoes.  Geena spotted the demon seeds before I was served and I was able to get my plate without them.  I was very lucky with my allergy for the entirety of the trip.  The only close call I had was in Lido when I ferociously snarfed down some crackers that had trace amounts of sesame in them.  Luckily, I was able to shake it off.  The main course was good but a bit too tart for my taste buds.

Dessert: Tiramisu.  I'm still not a fan, but I was stuffed anyway.  

After we were all a little bit silly from the wine and chubby with our full stomachs, we headed to San Marc's square for a farewell photo.  It was flooded.  The same holes that discard rain water are responsible for flooding.  It makes a great photo but the actuality and reality of what is really happening is nothing short of grim.  The city sinking and with the constant alterations and tourism, it's heading towards it's death.  Each year the flooding worsens.  Marinia even mentioned the possibility of constructing a tunnel from the airport, Venice, and Lido.  The ecosystem is fragile enough.  They shouldn't alter it anymore.  

Cruise Ships- I have been on about 5 or 6 cruises.  It's a great way to cover a lot of the ground and in a short period of time, that's about it.  I was rather young when I traveled this way.  From what I can remember, they did a good job "advertising" on board that they were eco friendly.  There were bull shit signs everywhere that said something to the effect of "save the waves, don't litter."  That's all well and fine that the passengers don't litter but what about all the ecological harm that was caused so that the ship can fit into the port?  In Venice's case, irreversible dredging damage has been done to the ports in order to accommodate the ships.  It's a scary scary world out there.  But hey, litter away - the gulf spill is the end of it all anyway.

Back to cruising -  The amount of food was a joke but looking back, it never reflected the local cuisine at all.  Did I even go to those specific ports?  Was I even traveling at all?  Most likely not.  Thousands of tri-state area gluttons flop themselves onto these traveling cities and pollute with their masses.  Hardly a vacation when you never really leave what you're comfortable.  

Take a deep breath Kim.

Back to our final night as a group-

For awhile, we just stood and soaked everything up.  We took a few pictures and I asked Ray if he would dance with me.  He was looking damn good in his sport jacket and khakis.  On our way out, we tangoed - neither of knew how, but we had a ball.  We tore that square up.  I think people even enjoyed watching us.  Looking back on it, we should have had a rose in one of our mouths.  I love living out the most tacky cliches, it's great fun!

It's hard to conceptualize the bond that has been forged with Venice.  One of my friends spent a considerable amount of time in Venice.  Before my trip, we went out to grab a bite to eat.  He was gleaming with excitement and envy for me.  We communicated almost daily and he was always eager to hear about my journey.  It wasn't until I left Venice that I realized why he had so much envy.  All the pieces fell into place.  

My favorite part about Venice is that it's based on reciprocity.  If you care about her and put in the time, she'll show you just as much love.  Obviously this works both ways too.  Kelly and I stayed an extra day.  On our final stroll, we passed our first friend that we made - Salvatore.  He was saddened to hear that we were leaving and wished us the best on our journey.  The friendly wine boy said the same.  Eddie, our beloved Albanian bartender, gave us all giant hugs as we parted ways.  (Hell, I would too If I had 10 students empty their pockets in to my hands!)

A reflection on traveling with 9 essentially strangers-

Ramapo College of New Jersey is hardly a mecca for diversity.  Out of the 10 of us, 6 were from Bergen County, one was from the shore, one from Passaic County, and one from Sussex.  Despite our close proximity, we varied greatly.  Some people commuted, some transfered, and some lived on campus.  My college experience hasn't been your typical one.  After not going to my first and only choice school (hockey recruiting mishap,) I settled for the close and comfortable Ramapo.  I've tried to like it, I really have.  In fact I hated it until this trip.  My first year I lived in a triple dorm.  I liked one of the girls a lot and the other one stunk, literally.  My second year I lived in an on campus apartment and since I was so familiar with the area, there was no distinction from work, school, or family.  My 3rd year I lived with my then boyfriend.  I thought at the time it was the right thing to do for my independence but it in fact  threw me backwards on the spectrum.  Living back at home has perpetuated my independence.  I was previously concerned with which direction my career would take me in.  I'm not worried now.  I think I have enough wit and the ability to think on my toes to work in a variety of situations.  I was fed up with school prior to this trip, that's partly why I wanted to graduate early.  I changed my mind, my liberal arts education has given me enough material to excel in multiple fields.  Now I want to figure out how to finance an international grad school or fieldwork via my employers.  The quest will commence once I am not charged 5 euro an hour for internet.

People on the trip-

Everyone had their quirks.  I've known 2 girls since age 5.  It was a real treat to see what they've grown into - completely different from what I had expected.  It's a beautiful thing to be an observer and watch people grow.  This trip served that purpose for a few people.  They really came into themselves.  Having coached for a few years now, it's really cool to watch people mature.  I don't want to sound like an old bag hypocrite, I am only 20 - but I've always had an older soul despite my young age.  I was always a bit cocky and out spoken, but also reserved.  A few months ago, I snapped out of that.  I lost my identity for a few years and let others dictate my path.  After coming to that actualization, I was a much happier person.  Some people on the trip were extremely vocal.  I let everything slide.  Since I rediscovered who I am, others have the right to be themselves as well.  I'm much less judgmental.  I still am fixated when it comes to designer authenticity, but little stuff doesn't matter to me anymore.  Oh no- I'm getting a little too Buddhist.    

One of my favorite Zen sayings is "leap and the net will appear."

I'm not afraid to skin my knees or get a bug bite.  Battle wounds are more interesting than perfection and botox anyway.

With 4 nights left in Italy, I'm not ready to go back yet.  Of course I miss my family and friends, even some comforts - but there's way too much to explore.

My next trip:

- I'm taking one singular backpack

- Destination: either South America or Europe, can't decide.  This travel bug is a real thing after all, and it's bitten me hard.

About a year ago, a Canadian friend of mine sent me the name of a program in Spain where you live at a five star hotel and help business execs from all over Europe learn and speak English.  That's well and great, but how do I become one of those execs?  Spanish isn't so scary anymore to me.  Just plunk yourself down in the native country and you'll learn.  It's sink or swim.  I'd love to pursue an academic future but I've developed a taste for fine food and quality goods.  How the hell do I finance those tastes?!

Some final Venice stuff:

-ACTV workers (the Vaporetto) are the sexiest men in Venice.  Their tanned skin goes beautifully with their designer glasses.

- Venice is absolutely safe and secure, much more so then the rest of the places that I traveled in Italy.

Things that I won't miss

• Algae!

This was the sight of the crime

• African purse salesmen - if a NY street vendor followed me, I'd deck him.
• Rose solicitors
• Pizza, I'd be OK if I never had another slice for as long as I love
• Squid, anchovies, and spritz
• The lack of gyms.  On the last day I found one in the tiniest ally!

Miss Carolina's take on my swim...

At this point it was three in the morning, and we decided we all needed food in order to continue trekking. Nothing was open, but we smelled something… delicious. (Think Nabisco factory while driving through Fair Lawn) In our foggy states we followed the scent to a bakery where we peeped in to find tray after tray of freshly baked bread.   Never ones to hold back, we yelled into the mysterious breadtopia. A savior emerged. We asked him to spare a roll. He seemed happy to help us. He disappeared and came back with a huge white bag of every kind/size roll you could possibly want. Thank you, kind stranger. We promised that we would go to town on our food when we got home to our olive oil, salt, and pepper.

With our sack of bread in tow, we dropped off our pilot friend at the Realto. We tried to explain to him how to manage his way from there, but we all knew chances were, he had quite the journey ahead of him considering it was his first night. (We later learned he got so lost, he waited until a kiosk opened so he could buy a map. He walked in a few hours after the sun was up. Poor kid.)

We were getting very tired and decided to seriously focus on getting back to the apartment. It had been raining on and off all night, so puddles were forming everywhere leaving our feet wet and muddy.

It was then Kim decided she needed to wash her feet.

Looking like the female Father Christmas, she slung our precious bread bag over her shoulder and approached the steps leading into the canal. It was wet. It was covered in lagoon growth. It was slippery. One step. Two step. Three step-

PLOP.

Ladies and gentlemen, she took the plunge.

Our loaves went flying, and she was sucked into the canal. I’m talking head just above the water, doing the doggy paddle trying to keep her face above the sewage water. Now, Kim is New York City savvy, never loses her cool kind of chick. So her expression was truly priceless. Her face went from pure shock, to the realization- holy shit, I’m submerged in poop. She tried to pull herself up, but she couldn’t get a grip on the edge because of the algae. I ran over to lend her a hand. I tried my best to be careful. However, staying dry wasn’t in the cards for me either. I ate it. My bottom half was totally in. We were Lucy & Etheling it. Christa came over, grabbed both of our hands, and pulled us out. Tell me that didn’t just happen.

As if it were a crime scene, our twenty loaves of bread floated where our dignity was murdered.

Sopping wet from the toilet water, we ran home whimpering like little girls. 

We suspect that we will start growing webbed feet and dorsal fins within the next 24 hours.

Stay tuned.

Our stomping grounds, Eddie’s

The man who started it all, Eddie (am I right about Tom Cruise/Josh Hartnett or what?)

Revisiting the grave. It drops off right after that last visible step.

Rome

Since intertron time is limited to 30 minutes a day, i'm sorry my posts are sparse and don't incorporate pictures.

My flight home is Thursday so I plan to have everything squared away upon arrival back in New York City.

Ciao.

Beach

Amazingly relaxing day, and well needed. 

The most stressful thing that occurred today was the maid barging into our room around 9 o’clock.  Kelly fell back asleep and I parked myself out on the terrace to write a bit.  Around 12, we made our way down to get some lunch and head to the beach.  The restaurant swiped my debit card four times and told me it didn’t work.  That makes me nervous.  I want to check my statement and see if they stole anything.  

My TD Bank card is the new laser printer kind.  It’s completely flat.  When I first got it, it almost looked like a novelty.  I guess they can’t imprint your card - I don’t know.

We arrived at the beach, about a 3 minute walk.  There were colorful umbrellas and chairs.  The left side, separated by a plank, was the lowly public beach.  A small sliver designated for the less fortunate and frugal.  We scoped out some real estate and plunked down.  The black, sort of pebbly sand burnt our hooves.  I woke up from my nap nearly about to pass out from dehydration.  I found a gelateria and that cooled me down.  The water was a bit cooler then Capri and the sand was great.  

I took a relaxing bath in the afternoon.  For dinner, we ate in the the smaller square.  It was OK.  Towards the end of our meal, USA vs. England was on.  We couldn’t quite see from our angle so when English scored, I accidently cheered.  We headed back to the hotel bar which was dead but had a large flat screen to watch the game.  Unfortunately - i fell asleep while watching.  We went back to our room before the conclusion.  Italia’s game tomorrow should be more livlely

Roma tomorrow !

The girl with the hat

My fedora strikes up a lot of interesting conversation: “I like your hat, Ciao.”

After returning to our hotel and showering, we decided to share our remaining litre of cabernet from our beloved Venice.  We marched down the hill in search of futbol!  There were tv’s all over the little squares.  They were wheeled out and perched for all to view.  We decided to keep going down the hill to see if we could mesh both FIFA madness and waterfront romance.  Fail.  We found a quaint, fairly inexpensive place on the beach and split a bottle of pinot grigio.  This was the first restaurant that the waiter sampled the wine for me.  I obliged and tasted it.  Am I really supposed to return a bottle in Italy?  Come on, I’ve yet to taste a bad one.  Well there was that red one that we got from the Alla Botte store in Venice, but we left it out for a few too many days.

NCIS was playing on the widescreen behind me.  Kelly was sucked in, telling me plot details of the specific episode.  We both ordered insalate Caprese.  It was absolutely divine.  The mozzarella here is smaller then I have been typically seeing, about 2 inches big.  The tomatoes are the absolute freshest.  Just about a year ago I didn’t eat tomatoes.  I think I was the only Italian in the world who didn’t.  My first was a juicy beefsteak in the heat of summer, slathered in Peter Luger’s steak sauce at Brandon’s beautiful mountain house.  That did it, I was hooked.  We split a ham and mushroom pizza but could have done with out it.  

As we casually drank our wine and laughed, it started to drizzle.  The wait staff panicked and starting moving tables around.  They had a retractable roof that came down and provided shelter.  The friendly English speaking waiter came over and exchanged conversation.  There are four types of winds that hit Amalfi.  This one was the African wind which brings the rains and humidity.  He also was complaining of a fever-  strange.  The northern winds bring cold and I can’t remember the other two.  After I paid, he brought out two perfectly chilled lemoncello shots and the best lemon sorbet I’ve ever had.  There were bits of lemon ground up in it and it melted as it hit your tongue.  Happy camper.

Friendly and courteous American boys!

We never got our soccer.  As we were walking back up, I spotted a MLB hat.  At first I thought it was a yankee hat, but then there was a red brim.  We exchanged conversation with our new found Emory graduates, exploring just like us.  We shared a few beers and discussed a wide range of topics.  They were staying somewhere up the mountain and had rented a car.  Yesterday they rented a boat and had a self guided tour of Capri.  That would have been cool, too.

With the prospect of a potentially fun night, I went inside and finagled some cheap lemoncello shots.  While we were sitting there I was watching this young blonde English speaking (most likely American) girl surrounded by 4 or 5 preying old men.  They were moving in for the kill and I felt awful witnessing this.

The boys picked up our tab which was lovely and we parted ways.  Overall, the night was mellow and fun, perfect for our little holiday.

Capri

I feel tan!  YAY and no burn.

I miss my partners in crime, however this is not a place for that sort of debauchery.  The Amalfi Coast is the epitome of grandeur and romance.  It’s an absolute necessity to have a partner in company to experience this.  I’m glad I have Kelly.  I know she’ll always be around to reminisce.

Boat ride to Capri

There was a mad rush to get on to the boat.  Rooftop seating was already taken so I let everyone go in front of me.  I’ve officially lost my edge.  Wobbly tourists meandered about the boat with an intoxicated stager to shoot the perfect scenery.  No one (including myself) has their sea legs.  I haven’t had my old balance since my surgery.  I had the urge to water ski off the back of this boat.  It was a pretty decent size but the wake that it put out was perfect to weave in and out of.  I can’t wait to try it again -

Playlist: A selection of Radiohead, new and old.  Radiohead isn’t a frequent choice of mine but it came on during shuffle.  The eerie and whimsical chords matched the emotional context of the mountains.  Unspoiled splendor dotted with ancient civilizations turned modern, graced the cliffs.  It really puts things into perspective for me.  One human is nothing in this universe.

The weather was super hazy and hot.  It was still gorgeous and didn’t matter.  However, it did prevent the water from gleaming to it’s full potential.  As we headed west to Capri, there were multiple controlled burns that billowed into the landscape.  If I had to describe the landscape, it’s a mix of Ireland’s greenery (which I’ve never seen), the Palisade cliff’s ruggedness, the Oregon coastline, and St. Lucian blue green water.  

MORE PHALLIC SYMBOLS.

A nice elderly gentleman with a huge Nikon D300 asked me to snap a photo of him and his wife.  I took 3 and all were great.  I assumed he could reciprocate and handle my dinky D40 but he totally blew it.  No creative eye at all.  HA

We ended making friends with the couple.  They were on holiday from Canada and extremely pleasant to talk to.

When we reached Capri, we got a brief tour of the green and white grotto.  Our boat was way too large to explore the blue grotto.  I was OK with it.  The water was incredible and pictures can’t do this sight justice.  My camera conveniently decided to stop working just when we reached the more impressive green grotto.  What the heck!  I asked Mr. Canada to see if he could lend a helping hand and he admitted he knew nothing about photography...It worked shortly after.

Our next stop was this place:

We went under.  Faraglione di Mezzo.  As a kid, I always stared at it’s picture at my grandma’s house.  Gram, I made it!!  Wish you were here with me :(

On arrival, we “docked.”  This involved nosing into a cemented area and briskly walking down a moving plank.  The young handled it well, but it proved to be quite a challenge for the elderly.  There were a few restaurants and a rocky beach but we went for a hike up the mountain.  The flowers were beautiful; succulents, the weird ones I don’t know the names of, lemon trees.

We explored an awesome winding pathway that over looked the coast.  We were in beach mode considering we were both dripping with sweat.  This was no simple hike!  I like to think both of us are in pretty good shape despite all the delicious food we’ve been consuming.  We found a beach that was down about 150 steps.  It was private and cost about 10 euros for a beach chair.  We both decided that was ridiculous and were forced to trek back up.  Shit.  We were exhausted. 

After going back and forth what to do, it was recommended to us that we explore Annacapri, the other side of the island.  I hailed a cab in the middle of the street.  Finally a familiarity!  This taxi was well worth the money. 

It looked like a convertible hearse with a linen sun cover.  Our driver was considerate of tourism and stopped and showed us a few panoramic sites.  Breathtaking, but nothing compared to what was next.  When we got to Annacapri, we found this personal tram that takes you - to somewhere.  Neither of knew, but there was a round trip ticket and a one way...

The security on this thing was a single bar, hardly to the standards of Six Flags.  The views were breathtaking.  A whole overview of the island.  We still didn’t know where it was going until we reached the summit of the island.  This place is single handedly the most beautiful place that I’ve ever been.  It was a 360 degree view of life itself.  There was a trail that went down and if I wasn’t wearing my JCrew strappy sandals that were prone to skidding, I would have hiked a bit.                                       




    


After determining that this was our favorite place, we tore ourselves away and headed back down the mountain. 

We found the most amazing hand crafted sandal store.  We were both ecstatic about this find.  The shop keeper was ... friendly and gave us some good prices.  I told him I’d make him famous in New York.  Haha, sucker.  However there was one time that I was at Henry Bendell’s on 5th and their was a custom shoe maker there.  Maybe one day.  Career: Importer of shoe craftsmen?    

website: sandaloocaprese.it 

We found our way to a tucked away trattoria with a garden.  GREAT atmosphere and food.  We were pretty much the only people in there and the staff was extremely friendly.  I’m so impressed with my pronunciations and ordering abilities.  Kelly ordered pasta with clams and I got some sea creature meal with pasta.  Both looked like they were prepared in the same sauce.  Here’s a before and after picture:

Before 

and 

After 

We waited a very long time for the bus that never came so we took a cab back to Marina Piccola.  We parked ourselves on the rocky beached filled with Americans and tourists.  SHUT UP.  Stop living the stereotype.  They were loud, obnoxious, self conscious, and uneasy walking on the stones.  I napped, played, found some great sea glass, and jumped off a rock.  Hurray for fun!

The water was great, but salty.  It wasn’t unbearable to hang on the rocks.  They just left imprints on your body that subsided quickly.

When waiting for the boat, there was another mad rush.  I cracked a few jokes and the people were unhumoured.  They must have all been French.  Bastards.  The return trip home was great.  We had a litre of pinot grigio from the wine store in Venice.  We shared it and joked. 

Ciao Capri!

Amalfi Day 1

I’ve traveled to two out of the four Italian sea republic’s in two days.  What have you done lately?  The only two that I’m missing are Genoa and Pisa which are not too high up on my list, but I’ll get around to them eventually.

Upon arriving in Naples, I jotted down some observations while waiting for my train.

• Cafe Kimbo was standing tall overlooking the square
• I got two sandwiches for Kelly and I and was abruptly reintroduced to Italian driving.  The sandwiches were hardly sandwiches.  They were more fried dough and oil with a spec of mozzarella and two dices of a tomato.  They were good, just my body is craving some healthy things.  Prices were also A LOT cheaper in Naples then in Venice.  Hurray!  Too bad we were there for an hour.
• I could count the amount of ipods/musical devices - 3.
• Everyone was sweaty.  Camel toe sweat was the most shocking...
• It was so hot and humid that a haze fell over the city.
• A handful of bums were hanging out sleeping.
• The station was bustling, but with purpose.  Everyone knew where to go, except us.
• I have the largest suitcase here and I look ridiculous.  
• While sitting, they sit with perfect posture.
• They do not have the same standards for personal space.  I felt like close talker on seinfeld.  
• The people vary from grunge to what our society would call metrosexual.  It’s an interesting and broad spectrum.
• Few women have their nails polished and very few have tips.

Italian Fashion Staples

• Carreras (Soon to be my next purchase)
• Ray Bans
• Assorted designer bags - real ones.
• White pants - men
• Obvious tattoos.  I noticed this in Venice as well.  Tattoos are more of a commonality.  Waiters serve you with tattooed arms, and natives display them with pride.  Although there is a lot of body modification in the states, it’s contained.  Especially in the professional world.  Most jobs discriminate against it.  I have one friend who got his first tattoo when he entered the Marines.  During his service, he sleeved his arms and most of his body.  When he went to reenlist, they turned him away.  Most every service men I know, and most women have a service tattoo.  It’s ironic that this tradition is an unwritten necessity, but also can prevent you from continuing further.  
• Men sported crisp suits or suit jackets.  Some were linen.  I don’t know how they do it.
• Frontal backpacks?
• Women sport bohemian style flowy pants with a low tapered crotch.  I’m still in the market for a cute pair.
• Shoes - fashion sneakers or flats, no nikes.
• Popular brands: ABERCROMBIE.  I don’t see the allure.  G Star Raw, Frutti, and Gas.

European Myths

• You will not get taken in a hostel.
• No one will snatch your stuff as long as you are on planet earth.  They target space cadets.
• Travelers checks are antiquated.
• Debit cards work just fine.
• It is not hard to navigate - at all.
• Mostly everyone speaks English.  My Spanish has helped in many instances but English will get you by just fine.  A lot of restaurants even display their menus in many different languages (in high tourist traffic areas).

Upon arriving in Naples, we caught a local train to Salerno.  What a trip.  A few locals helped us on our way.  We were directed to the underground and about 4 trains came on the same track before ours.  We tried to board each one...

The trains were a bit rugged and we struggled to get our suitcases in the tiny area.  We took up 2 seats for ourselves and another two for our junk.  The beginning of the ride was very urban.  Apartments were tall and littered with garbage and graffiti.  As we headed (I think) South, water started to appear.  The beaches were black near Pompeii.  I’m not sure if this was from the volcano, or from all the garbage that was floating around.  Probably a combination of both.  The haze blurred where the sea met the mountains in the distance.  I was still incredibly tired so I passed out and awoke in the mountains.  There were some long tunnels that the train took us through and the cliffs appeared.

We arrived in Salerno after viewing some beautiful scenery, but we were hot and frustrated.  I left Kelly with our small entourage of luggage and purchased our escape tickets for Rome on Sunday.  The terminal was confusing.  Unnamed buses and taxis lined up outside but there was not a single sign for the ferry which I researched and it looked the cheapest and fastest.  Like I said, we were hot and frustrated so we opted to split the more pricy cab.  None of us said very much other then a mouthed “OH MY GOD” in the beginning.  The road was the size of one highway lane, except for both directions of traffic.  Our driver was aggressive.  He weaved his way in and out of trucks, cars, and motorcycles sped passed him.  A courtesy beep was sometimes used but it was more typical just to prepare yourself when his transmission started to buckle.  It was about an hour ride but well worth the money spent. 

We found our way to our quaint hotel.  Imagine all our luggage and dragging it up these stairs -->

The hotel was great.  It was really hard to find affordable lodging in Amalfi and it’s surrounding area.  The hostels were pricy and to get a cheap one you had to be in the mountains with the donkeys (I saw one this morning).  This place, although it’s named Hotel Amalfi, is a charming inn.  It has a flat screen tv, refrigerator, private patio which I am sitting on right now and all the essential amenities that a hostel would not.  Their is a smoke detector and lot’s of in case of emergency break glass buttons.  The steps to evacuate are labeled but confusing.  They are steep and meander through the whole structure. 

Porch 

Cat

When checking in, the staff was friendly and helpful.  They let us know about a complementary tour that was in about two hours.  We went and were greeted by a round Jewish man named Michaelangelo.  The tour started at a statue of a person that never existed.  He said when the history books were being written, only a select few were literate and what they wrote was untrustworthy.  The statue of the man is this fictional character who allegedly invented the sea compass.  There was no man and the compass was invented in China.  Way to go Amalfi.  Other interesting facts about the city:

• They host over 800 weddings per year, mostly foreigners (we saw 2 in span of 15 minutes)
• When someone dies, the gravediggers have to climb a ridiculous amount of stairs with the casket.  We also saw a funeral and the casket was tiny.  Too big to be a child, but very very small.
• The reason why the streets and alleys have so many corners is because in order to ward off pirates they trapped them.  They trained the fastest girls in the village to tempt and lore the pirates in and once they did their job, they would be sealed in an alley.  They blessed them, and then poured boiling oil from a trap door above.  AWESOME.
• Apparently women had equal writes in the early history, They even were allowed to study, earlier than the University of Padua.
• Amalfi also stole their patron saint.  He was somewhere in Constantinople and they went and fetched him.  Ancient times must have been a thrill.  Nowadays, people vacation to disney world to see giant mice and go on thrill rides.  Back then, it must have been quite the chaotic adventure to go steal some rotting bones.  I hope someone cares about my bones and wants to steal me when I’m gone... 
• Amalfi once had a pier that spanned most of the city.  Legend says that a tsunami came and engulfed it.  Scientists and historians say that this never happened.  It really was gail force wind that lasted 8 hours.  The tour guide said that the city experienced this type of wind in 1986.  It only lasted for two hours but the sea level rose  so much that it engulfed his brand new, uninsured Fiat.  He’s still bitter about it-

We left the tour when they headed into the duomo.  We were not about to pay 9 euro for yet another church...

BUGS

Bugs are a part of life.  I have ants that flood my home each spring.  I once had to murder a mouse that was suffering in the sticky trap that we set out for it.  It’s just a cruel reality that everyone has to deal with.  The warm temperatures in Venice invited some little buggers into the apartment with us.  They did infest, but nothing could be done other then spray and the average course of action.  They continued to return, but lived in peace with us.  If they were those red fire ants, or something that bit me, I probably would have a different opinion about this.  Some of the tenants went as far as having their parents email the study abroad coordinator back at home.  What the hell is he going to do from his desk chair?  Regardless, it was a moot issue for me, as well as some others.  It just was an accepted truth.  The reason I bring this issue up again is because those people would have a field day here.  There’s a terrace about 2 feet from my bed, and guess what - ANTS.  I’m no tree hugger but live and let live.  

First Night in Amalfi

After perusing the main street, Kelly and I parked ourselves at a little restaurant.  We were so excited at how many butcher shops were here.  I’m craving a good steak and their weren’t too many in Venice.  We ordered but then the people next to us had a caprese salad.  I waived the waiter down and ordered one for us to share.  Oh my goodness.  The obsession stemmed from there...

(I’m currently eating one of my Nutella to go packs, YUM!)

I had gnocci and it was pretty classic.  The only pitfall to the meal was the bare chested woman poster that was looking us in the eye from the store window next door.  Nothing like some gnocci, local wine in a carafe, fresh food, and some tanned boobies. 

We strolled down to the water front.  There was a small truck stocked with lemons and some strange pinkish meat.  I asked the man what it was and he responded ‘moo-kah.‘  I still wasn’t too sure what I was looking at but it was sliced and drenched in fresh lemon juice.  Was he saying moo cow?  Nope.  He showed be some type of horn and I guess we both looked clueless still.  He opened up a container and pulled out a boar’s head.  OK.  It all clicked now.  There was tripe, and he continued to show where the other parts were from, calf, tongue, dick - just kidding.  I wasn’t in my adventurous mode, otherwise I would have tried it.  

There’s absolutely no young people here.  There are couples, more couples, and some local kids.  

Our room included breakfast.  When we got up to go to Capri, we checked it out.  The room is on the top floor and over looks the entire city.  It was gorgeous.  A waitress took my order for cappuccino while I helped myself to the well prepared buffet.  There is no such thing as fat free here.  I got a small bowl of cocoa pebble looking cereal and there was heavy cream or buttermilk to pour on top.  Not for me, I’m a skim girl.  I grabbed a steaming hot croissant and slathered it with Nutella.  I need to meet a charismatic Frenchman to teach me the proper croissant eating etiquette.  I was no lady.  Just picture me tearing into this thing.  Buttery layers flaked all over the table as I devoured it ravenously.  I took a banana for the road and we were on our way!

Train Ride

Buenacera tren italia!

What an interesting journey thus far.  We boarded our 11:30 pm train from Venice.  It was sad to leave but both Kelly and I are psyched for our new adventures.  The train cabin was - bare minimum.  Four plank beds with a simple sheet and a 1 square foot “pillow.”  This pillow was hardly a pillow.  In fact, I think it was stuffed with wood chips and scented with urine.  Delicious.  Upon our initial take off, there wasn’t anyone in the room with us.  I was so excited that I finally had some time to rest, I conked out immediately.  Somewhere along the lines this little woman appeared.  Her head was scarfed, and she was barely five feet tall.  She spoke little English and parked herself amongst our embarrassing amount of luggage.  I personally have one large 50 lb. suitcase, a fully packed duffel with souvenirs, and a backpack.  I guess the moral of the story is, live, learn, and pack light.  I know my next adventure is going to backpacking - and truly roughing it.  Oh well, at least I looked stylish on this trip!  I’ll just have to suffer the consequences in the next few days.  Shimmying down the narrow hallway to our cabin was a bit of a challenge.  We were gleaming with sweat, the humidity in Venice was unbearable, and other passengers waited with impatience.

I slept rather comfortably.  I woke up earlier in the night to a large puddle of drool.  Life was good.  The train conductor was very hospitable.  He woke everyone up in the morning for their stop.  He was pleasantly dressed in a three piece suit.  In the morning I spoke to him a bit.  He asked where we were from and I told him New York.  “Ohhhh, Frank Sinatra!”  I tried to tell him that my dear friend Frank was from Hoboken, but that wasn’t getting through.  

The train itself takes rather long stops in between.  The air conditioning during the night was frigid!  It was a nice treat to have the train shut off during these stops to regain circulation.

Train exploring

I had to use the bathroom in the morning.  My car had two water closets.  This meant just that.  There was no toilet to be found.  I stood there for a brief moment trying to decide if I should somehow hoist myself up onto the sink and pee.  Luckily, my sanity and rationale convinced my bladder to keep looking for an actual toilet.  I went to the next car which was more first class.  The cabins were both individual and doubles while boasting lovely wooden laminate!  CLASS (it even said that on the exterior of the train haha).  My cabin got the job done and we were untouched and not harmed.  I found the bathroom at the end of this car.  There were both male and female restrooms and mine smelled like rotten horse shit.  Good morning!

I washed my face with the “green tea” towelette provided.  I rewashed it with my own stuff after.  Ick- woodchip piss smell.  I slurped down a nectarine that we bought our last morning in Venice from the Realto market.  That was quite the sight.  I have such a hard time writing and keeping up with all of the things that I do because everything is such a new exciting experience.  It may sound cliche, but it’s true.  

When we opened the window and slid open the door, we were greeted by impressive looking mountains and tons of agriculture.  Welcome to the south!

I had some time to think...

I never realized how much of “me” was dictated by my family.  Perhaps dictated is a strong word, maybe shaped?  I was always too busy running away from who they were in order to create myself.

MOM: Insurance Guru

I was so curious about Italian healthcare.  Marina (our other professor) said it was great.  With all of our nation’s problems, I can’t imagine raving about our policies anytime soon.  She got a bone scan for 30 something euro.  I got knee surgery for a little over 50,000.

???

DAD: Fireman, planet expert, entrepreneur

My environmental concerns are perked here.  I was speaking to him via skype a few days ago and PLANET, the national professional land care network (a unified professional organization which links both interior and exterior businesses for advance professionalism) has it in the works to unify internationally with other international networks.  There’s a meeting in Norway in the fall.  I want to go!  Sign me up.

Obviously the fire service is a huge part of my life as well as his.  Until I do some more research, I’m deeming the Venetian emergency responders ill-equipped.  There are far too few visible people on duty.  Although they can do fancy pit maneuvers and make a big wake, that doesn’t account for terrorism preparedness.  Terrorism can take some pretty nasty forms.  Unfortunately my training has forced me to look at all situations from a worst case scenario perspective.  The streets and boats packed full of tourists frightens me gravely.  The only formal security I encountered so far was at the Academia museum in Florence.  This museum housed the David.  There was a metal detection system but this was the first I saw.  I have seen a few cameras about, but not nearly enough.  Maybe big brother watching is not that bad of a thing after all.  I should reread that novel-

Regardless, Venice needs to look more prepared.  I was talking to my friend Ryan today and he was asking about fire suppression in Venice.  I was embarrassed to say that I knew nothing about it.  It was a vacation from typical Kim things.  My only guess would be that the water is drafted.  

Grandpa: Engineer Extraordinaire, Family Glue

Although I did not inherit his mathematic capabilities or talents, I do have an increased awareness in surveying.  He served as the head of the NCEES for a few years.  Since I don’t have the internet at the hotel, you’ll need to google what it stands for.  Something like the National Council of Engineers who exceed the amount of letters in an acronym, something like that.  This train system perplexes me.  The construction of it blows my mind, same with Venice.  It goes through mountains, cuts across country sides and touches all cities, impressive.

In a nutshell, this train ride was sort of like the Carrie and Samantha trek across the country to LA.  Unknowing what to expect, we joyfully anticipated in what turned out to be mediocre accommodations.

Initially I was a bit queazy from my final meal.  The rosticerria we frequented was somewhat cafeteria style.  One of Marina’s family members ran it and we often saw her aunt waiving out the window from above.  I’m all for supporting a family run operation!  There was a baked lasagna section, fried assortments, (my favorite being potato croquets and fried dough with mozzarella and prosciutto) and glorious seafood.  I got a seafood salad tossed in olive oil.  It had celery, tomatoes, some light seasoning and an array of sea friends.  My black squid that I wanted to try was in there.  I tried it!  It wasn’t my favorite, at least in that context.  Kelly and I also split a platter of assorted fried friends.  There were a few unidentifiable creatures but we both tried all.  To sooth my upset octopus in my stomach, I washed it down with some nutella and lemonade.  What a champ!  I survived except my tuckas is growing by the day.  My final walk back to the apartment, I found a gym.  Why the heck!?  It was tiny and concealed in a narrow alleyway but in Campo Main, the same one where I fell in.

I had my computer with me on the train but for some reason I have been opting to hand write, it’s a backwards world out there!

Things I miss at home

• Genuine people
• Taylor Ham
• Dryers and dryer sheets
• The lower east side
• German bier
• San Loco- specifically my guaco loco taco (I get chicken with a soft and hard shell slathered with guac to connect the two together)
• My Bond #9 Scent of Peace perfume
• Giant hugs
• My family and their antics
• My girls and our spontaneous nights

I’m not homesick at all, I’m enjoying being a perpetual student of life.