Dante: Purgatorio

WARNING: THIS IS A VERY LONG POST. DO NOT START READING THIS IF YOU HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE IN THE NEXT HOUR. ALSO WHEN READING, TAKE FREQUENT BREAKS AND DRINK PLENTY OF FLUIDS. GOTTA STAY HYDRATED YOU KNOW. OK. HERE WE GO. BRACE YOURSELF.

After my whirlwind adventure through Italia this past week, the only title that seemed fitting was one that truly encapsulated the highs and lows we all experienced and how we existed somewhere between heaven and hell. Don’t get me wrong, Italy was absolutely incredible, but some of us got to enjoy it more than others. But we’ll get to that.

The week started…rather suddenly. Megan and I woke up at 6am-which is the time our ride came to pick us up. I’ve never gotten dressed so fast in my life. But we made it to the car and headed to Gatwick for our flight to Venice. After a few hours of cramped sleep on the plane, we were awoken by the pilot announcing that we should all look out our windows. When we did, we saw the most gorgeous view of the Alps anyone could ask for. I have never wanted to be thrown from a plane so badly, so that I could land in the mountains and frolic. So beautiful.

We landed, and after some experimenting with Venetian public transportation and the labyrinthine streets, we made it to our hostel. We put down our stuff, grabbed some lunch, and began our trek to find the hub of Venetian life (and tourism), Piazza San Marco. Along the way, we were constantly reminded by the layer of confetti covering the streets that we had just barely missed the biggest holiday in all of Venice-dom, Carnival. We arrived in Piazza San Marco to discover that not all of the equipment from Carnival was taken down, so we got to see a little bit of what the night must have been like. We decided to walk through the Doge’s Palace on the Grand Canal, and we saw some lovely ceilings, some cool armor, and we walked across the Bridge of Sighs, where those going to prison or to get executed got their last look at the outside world.

Next we headed through some of the streets to seek out our first dose of gelato. We also wandered in and out of shops selling walls upon walls of Murano glass and Venetian lace. There were Carnival masks and costumes in every shop, and we all managed to find something pretty to bring home.

Of course, no trip to Venice would be complete without a ride on a gondola! We did some hard bargaining and got in a very teetery gondola with a gondolier who pretty much sat on Allie’s head to get to his station on the back of the boat. While it wasn’t the most comfortable boat ride I’ve ever taken, it was really quiet and mysterious, and we got to see some of the little streets and canals. It was completely serene and I felt like I was in a movie.

The next morning, we had a quick breakfast in our hostel with Megan’s sorority sister/ roommate, Katherine, and then we headed to the train station for our next stop, Florence.

We showed up after a very quick and picturesque train ride, and after a mishap involving Lauren’s passport, a McDonald’s, and some Italian policemen, we finally headed to our hostel. It was pretty wonderful, with a courtyard, a huge shower, and 2- count ‘em, 2- monkey blankets on each bed. Being reassured that we wouldn’t freeze that night, we headed right back out to find THE DUOMO. It’s right in the heart of the city and all of a sudden you see this huge dome looming over the streets. Right next-door is the Baptistry, featuring Ghiberti’s famous bronze doors. We wandered around inside the cathedral that the Duomo sits on top of, called Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral, and then we scoured the surrounding area for the perfect gelato place. We accidentally paid 8 euros for a few scoops, but despite the stupid high prices, it was still delicious.

We then went to the Accademia in search of Michelangelo’s David. Tucked into a tiny museum, it towers over everything, and even after a 20 minute wait to get in, it was still pretty impressive. The detailed musculature and sheer scale of it were hard to wrap your head around, and watching the art students scattered around the floor using it as a model was really fun to watch. We may or may not have snuck a few forbidden pictures. Whoops…

The final tourist stop of the day was the San Lorenzo leather market. So. Cool. This little street is lined with hundreds of stalls selling wallets, purses, gloves, jackets, you name it, all made of leather. I made my first major purchase of the trip and splurged on a really, really nice leather jacket, which I haggled down to less that 100 euros. I was really proud of myself. And I look pretty sweet in it.

We went home, had some free pasta at our hostel, and then headed out to meet up with Lauren’s friend, Thea, from school. She took us to an aperitivo, where, if you buy one drink you get as much food as you want. So, so delicious. We walked along the River Arno, which was gorgeous at night, to a bar called Moyo, where it was disco night. I had a delicious drink called a Banana Moyo, which I must learn how to make, and then we decided to call it a night.

This is where the tragedy of my tale begins. In the middle of the night, Megan was stricken with illness, and was incapacitated for the whole next day. Not having her as we headed out for our final day in Florence was so upsetting, and we felt like there was a gap in our little family. Onward we pressed, sans one, and we headed to the Ponte Vecchio during the day. The minute you walk onto the bridge you are almost blinded by sparkly gold jewelry, and you are instantly reminded that you are a lowly, poor college student. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

We crossed over the bridge and found an adorable gift shop where we made a few significantly less expensive purchases, and then headed to the Palazzo della Signoria and the Palazzo Vecchio. Out in the courtyard is just a garden of marble and bronze statues, including a knockoff of the David. I couldn’t find the statue I had wanted to see of Judith and Holofernes (I don’t know how it’s possible to miss a huge bronze statue, but somehow I managed), so I guess my memories from my Art History textbooks will have to suffice.

We made our way into the palace where the Medici family pretty much ran Florence. Essentially we were walking through the house of the original Italian mob. There were some pretty amazing rooms where they held meetings, and walls covered in frescoed maps.

When we came outside it was raining, so we scurried across the piazza and headed into a restaurant with a great lunch deal. Afterwards, we trudged through the rain to the Basilica di Santa Croce, outside of which stands a gigantic statue of Dante, who is basically a Florentine national hero. I let my inner Lit dork escape and took one or two...dozen… pictures in front of it. But I refuse to apologize. It was neat. And since everyone else in our merry band of travelers refused to visit his house, this was the closest I would get to being in his presence. Or was it?

Inside is where some of the greatest Italians of all time are buried. It was like the Renaissance red carpet for dead people. Unfortunately, the jackhammering going on every 5 seconds constantly interrupted the peace of the church, and Dante’s grave was obscured by tarps and scaffolding, but we did get to see the graves of Machiavelli, Michelangelo, and Galileo, which was pretty unbelievable. There were some lovely little chapels and a pretty courtyard, but being in the same space as the world’s most famous thinkers and creators (despite their deadness) trumped everything else.

Michelangelo's grave

Galileo's grave

We got to see the tiny leather school that was attached to the church, which was nice, and then we marched back out into the weather (got some gelato) and once again to THE DUOMO.

We decided to test our endurance and shed a few of those gelato pounds by climbing the 463 steps to the top of the Dome. It started off easy, but after about step, oh I don’t know, 15, my legs started to burn. I should be embarrassed to admit that, but I’m not because I didn’t let it stop me, and after climbing the twisting and narrow stairwells and of course taking a lot of breaks, we arrived at the top of dome to the most breathtaking views of Florence. Just enjoy…

We eventually had to head back down to Earth, and we returned to the hostel to check on our sickypoo. She seemed to be doing a little better, so we made preparations to leave for Rome as planned the next day. In the morning, we jumped back on the train and showed up in Roma. We dropped our stuff off at the hostel and jumped into a cab to head to Vatican City. Before we went within the walls, we had some delicious Sicilian food. Then we headed into the country within a city, and bolted for the Sistine Chapel, my number one favorite piece of artwork in the whole world, for fear that it would close before we got to see it. But never fear, we basically ran through the rest of the museum and entered into the chapel. Call me a loser, but I may have shed a tear or two. Then my Art History lectures started ringing in my ears and I started reciting little facts about the ceiling, like the mirror imagery between drunken Noah and Adam as he is given life, and in what aspects Michelangelo’s dislike of Catholicism came through.

We had to say goodbye to the chapel and made our way to St. Peter’s Basilica. On the way we passed some Swiss Guards who had some sweet hats. We headed into the basilica, and wandered around looking at the artifacts that had been collected over thousands of years. We saw the burial place of the world’s first pope, Peter himself, and we touched a magic foot belonging to a statue of St. Peter. We thought Megan should touch the foot to get healed, but we figured the combination of the germs that are probably festering all over that foot and the fact that she’s Jewish would both be working against her, so we decided to just continue to rely on medicine.

All of a sudden, a commotion erupted in the cathedral. We heard shallow chanting and a crowd start to arrange itself, making way for someone who was clearly very important. Being the day before Lent started, we naturally assumed we were about to see Pope Ben himself, but all of a sudden a cardinal shuffled through the basilica! Everyone stood very quiet, and all I could think of as he scuttled by was Angels and Demons and the possibility that I might have to save him from an evil plot by the Carmelengo. And now I want to watch that movie. Great.

After all that Catholic excitement (which I’m sure my Mom is reading about right now and getting very jealous of), we needed a break and headed back to our oh-so-lovely hostel for a brief nap before dinner. When we woke up, we wandered to a fancy Roman restaurant and had some legit food, and then wandered to a nearby piazza where we stumbled up, I kid you not, the greatest cannolis known to man. I think back onto that cannoli and I want to weep. It was incredible. Cannoli gods, I thank you for granting me such deliciousness.

The next day started with a delicious pastry breakfast and cappuccinos delivered to our rooms. With such a good start, there’s no way the day could be bad. The sun was shining as we headed on our Hop-On-Hop-Off bus tour of Rome. Our first stop was the Piazza di Spagna, home to the famed Spanish Steps. We took dozens of pictures at different locations on the steps, and just enjoyed the Italian sun for a while. Once again, I let my Lit nerdiness get the best of me and found myself enthralled by the fact that literally, right next door to the Spanish Steps was the building that John Keats died in. Not a bad place to die, I think.

The plaque commemorating John Keats' death.

We jumped back on the bus to our next stop, the Pantheon. Being surrounded by the history of the building and remembering how the Romans were in fact an ancient people, the building, once again smothered in restoration scaffolding, took on a whole new significance for me that it didn’t have when I first saw it on my 8^th grade Latin trip. Outside the Pantheon there were a bunch of restaurants offering deals for lunch, so we sat outside and enjoyed our last pizzas for a long time while listening to an amazing street performer dazzle the crowd with opera singing. He was amazing, and if he becomes famous some day soon, I wouldn’t be surprised. And you guys will be so jealous.

We hopped off the bus next, but only briefly, at the Circus Maximus, where the ancient Romans held there chariot races a la Ben Hur, and then moved on to our next, and my personal favorite stop of the afternoon, Trevi Fountain. Even amid the crowds of tourists and the countless hungry pigeons, the fountain was stunning. The stone seemed to move with the same fluidity and vibrancy as the water that ran through it. Naturally, we all had to make wishes, and each of us tossed a coin into the fountain hoping for different things. Then we bought a few more scoops of gelato and just sat by the fountain, watching the water and the people and even those nasty little pigeons, not really wanting to move.

But of course, we eventually had to hop back on the bus, because there was one last stop that we couldn’t leave Rome without seeing: The Colosseum. Our bus, which was supposed to come every 15 minutes ended up coming to get us after 35, but we eventually made it to the home of the gladiatorial matches that Rome was famous for. None of us really felt like spending 8 Euros to see the inside when we could simply peek through the different entranceways and see snippets of what we were missing. Plus, we were wholly satisfied with the grandeur of the building from the outside.

Finally it was time to head back to the train station, pick up our bags which we had dropped off at a luggage storage place, and get on the Leonardo express to catch our flight back to what seemed like the dreariest country on Earth after the vibrancy, culture, and not to mention the beautiful weather that we got to experience in Italy.

By now we’ve returned, Megan has made a full recovery, and we’ve begun the grueling internship phase of our time here. But things can only move up from here, as they naturally must when you are in Purgatorio.