Nov 22: Pisa!

On September 4, 2008, I found very inexpensive tickets from Eindhoven, the Netherlands to Pisa and Rome. So naturally, I bought them. The plan: fly to Pisa, catch a train to Rome, then return from Rome, all in 4 days (classes hindered a longer adventure). I had met Tracy a week or two earlier at orientation and she was fun, so I asked if she wanted to join and of course she did! The only “problem” was that we had to wait two and a half months to go. That said, when November 22 did finally arrive, we couldn’t believe how quickly the time had passed.

As it turns out, I’m not sure I could have chosen a better time to go. My final pleading session for my international law moot court was on the Wednesday of that week and I was ready for a break. I had enjoyed the class, though. I wasn’t on a team as I had been in mock trial, but getting up and presenting reminded me of a closing argument with a rebuttal, and the competitive side of me was thrilled to finally make an appearance, having had few opportunities since high school graduation. I ended up arguing against a Brit who had much more moot court experience than myself and went on to earn cum laude of our class, but I held my ground and was happy with my performance.

On the night before our flight, I biked through the rain over to Tracy’s flat for dinner with my guide book in my basket. As we ate, we chatted with another tenant in the building about his thoughts on Rome and flipped through the books to plan out our journey. Perhaps some would have planned it out a little earlier, but we were full-time students and Tracy being a master’s student was even busier than myself. I returned home biking this time through hail and realizing how convenient a helmet would have been.

(Sidebar on biking: In all of my 5 months in the NL, I saw maybe 10 bikers wearing helmets, all on men wearing racing uniforms. It’s just not common, but I would still wager that biking there sans helmet is safer than biking in the States with a helmet. In the NL, you have bike-only lanes everywhere next to the sidewalk and separated from the road by a median. There are stop lights for cars as well as for bikes and pedestrians, though the locals seek the bike lights as more of a guideline than car stoplights. Even in turning circles, rather than cars driving past when they could fit through in front of a bike, they almost always stop, even if it means waiting longer than just a pause. The official right of way goes pedestrians, bikes, buses, cars, but in practice bikes are before pedestrians.)

Back to the story: I got home around 11pm to find two of my roommates in quite a state, dancing around Stoyan’s room with assorted liquors. Apparently they had just turned in a large assignment for their moot court competition as well, and it was time to celebrate. At their insistence, I stayed and attempted to teach a Bulgarian and an Irishman how to do a country line dance. By the time I got back to my room, it was about 1am, so finished the last of my packing and decided to chat online with some friends back home for a while – I had to be up at 3am anyway to catch the train to Eindhoven and board my 8am flight.

Tracy and I met at the train station as scheduled and boarded the 2.5 hour train to Eindhoven – a very long journey as neither of us had slept. We then waited, shivering in the train station for about an hour until the first bus came to transport us to the airport. We shuffled through the snow that was falling lazily and sticking to the ground and imagined the warmth of Pisa.

Upon boarding the flight, I immediately fell asleep. I woke up to find we were back on the ground, very disappointed to see that there was indeed snow in Pisa as well. Tracy quickly corrected me – the flight was delayed, we were still in Eindhoven. So I resumed sleep and when I next woke up during our descent, the sun was shining and the snow was gone. As we stepped off the plane, we took off our jackets enjoying the warmth. We bought two train tickets to Pisa Central and onward to Rome and jumped on the next train. In Pisa, we stored our bags and wandered into the city.

Our wandering took us past a lovely pastry shop, so we had to stop for some treats. It reminded me of Joseph’s with the assorted treats and the spritzer cookies with pink frosting. Eventually our wandering took us around a corner, and there in the middle of everything was a grassy knoll and THE Leaning Tower of Pisa! We walked into a nearby shop, purchased two slices of pizza and drinks, and sat in the grass, eating lunch and admiring the view against the clear blue sky. We didn’t have tickets to go up the Tower, but did wander into a church (unfortunately without my guidebook handy I can’t recall which one) and stared at the beautiful paintings and sculptures.

After purchasing a few souvenirs and taking photos of us holding up the Tower (or attempting to at least), we went in search of other Italian foods to try. Alas, the next slice of pizza was a bit of a let down. We walked along the river and stared at the way the sun struck the buildings as it sank lower in the sky, making the bricks appear to glow. Occasionally we could hear a roar that we speculated might have come from the crowd at a football stadium, though we never found it. For the most part, the streets that did not immediately surround the Leaning Tower were pretty empty for a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Around 4 o’clock we found what appeared to be a main street in town. There were children everywhere jumping rope and playing other games for what appeared to be a school fundraiser or perhaps just a game day organized in which parents could have fun with their children. As we walked up the street, a number of shops were just opening – very different from in Holland where the shops would be closing up at that time. We admired the clothes in the windows, tried on real Italian leather boots and wished we were already rich, successful lawyers so we could buy them, and stepped into a chocolate shop already decked out with holiday décor to sip hot chocolate and cappuccinos.

As we made our way back through town to catch the train, we decided that we couldn’t wait to return to Florence, not even having left yet. We wandered through a little craft market and I lingered to look at Christmas ornaments in various colors, shapes, and sizes. The bell with the nativity scene inside reminded me of Fr. Jack and Aunt Mary.

Just outside the train station, we passed a large parade of protesters waving signs and shouting and police on either side, ready if it got too rowdy. Unfortunately, my Italian is not up to par, so I didn’t catch the reason for the protest.

At the station, we retrieved our bags from storage, got an ice cream cone from McDonald’s, and jumped on the train to Roma. By 5:30pm, the sun was waning, so for most of our journey we couldn’t actually see the countryside. It would have been nice to be able to see it, but another time. We didn’t want to spend our daylight hours on a train anyway.

Several hours later, we arrived at San Pietro station and we greeted by my cousins, Brendan and Rachel Egan. It was soo wonderful to see them! The homesickness and culture shock had gotten to me a bit over the previous two weeks as I missed Grandpa’s birthday, harvest, Helen’s birthday, Mary’s birthday, and there was other excitement and drama with friends at home and I was ready for a weekend away – my own personal fall break. Seeing my college friends and getting a wonderful Rachel Downey hug (her surname until May 2008) made me feel “home” again, even in a place I’d never been.

Rachel and Brendan walked us around Rome and the Vatican City, pointing out historical buildings, St. Peter’s Basilica (hard to miss), the Pope’s window where he holds audiences each Sunday, and other places they liked to visit, like Old Bridge – the most gelato with the best flavor at the best price in the city. Naturally, we had to try it immediately. We were in awe of the flavors, but finally chose three that sounded good and jumped on the bus back to Brendan & Rachel’s.

Brendan and Rachel were living in Rome for three months preparing for 1 – 2 years of service in East Timor through a Catholic organization based in Rome by learning the language, the culture, and how they could best share their faith through their actions. At the time we were there, they only had two weeks left in Rome before they began the journey to East Timor and we could tell they were getting excited. They had been kind enough to find us two extra beds in the house and their housemates – other lay missionaries as well – were warm and welcoming. They made us some dinner and we chatted for a while, then turned in early, ready for a big day of sightseeing on Sunday!