Finally...When in Rome: Part Three of Three

After much ado, Scott on the Rocks has finally made it to the second major city in our study abroad semester! That’s right, two months and six countries after leaving the lovely state of Minnesota, we are finally in Rome. This post marks the end of the three-part blog, so strap on your boots and get ready for a whirlwind of stories.

When the Three Caballeros and I arrived back from our fall break, we were pretty tired. It had been two weeks since the last time we were in a classroom and it seemed like we were going to be starting a whole new semester. Though we weren’t looking forward to going to class again, I definitely was excited to check out Rome.

My excitement goes all the way back to when we were applying for study abroad programs. Last winter, I was split between three different trips: this one, the London trip, and the Australian trip. I was hesitant about doing Greco-Roman because it was in the fall, right when everything exciting tends to happen. I would be missing out on not only activities at St. John’s (namely football), but also many other mainstays of Minnesota autumns. There would be no leaves changing color, no football in the “tundra,” and of course no seeing the Twins in the playoffs or the Vikings (who later went out and got this Favre guy who is apparently pretty good). But, the main factor that made me choose this trip was the end goal of getting to see Rome.

Rome is and always has been a beautiful city. I can best describe this place as a giant outdoor art gallery. Everywhere you turn there is a new fountain, church, statue, monument, or ancient wonder. In our short time since arriving here, we’ve become accustomed to the extraordinary. Take conversations like this for example:

Matt: What’d you do today Scott?

Scott: Well, I took the metro over to the Colosseum, walked down the Roman Forum, stopped at the Pantheon, got some gelato, and headed back.

Matt: That’s a long walk. How was the gelato?

See what I mean? There are so many amazing things here that you can’t even comprehend it. If any of these famous artworks or buildings were anywhere else in the world, they would be the main tourist attraction. But here, you see a cool fountain and wave it off because it’s not the Trevi fountain or the Fountain di Quattro Fumi. It’s almost sinful.

Obviously, all of these sites are amazing. St. Peter’s Basilica is so large that it looks small. Confused? Let me explain. On a walking tour inside the Basilica, we were told to look up at the windows that were allowing light in on the South side of the church. The windows looked like nothing special. They were just high up and were 5 windowpanes wide by 7 windowpanes tall. We soon found out, though, that each individual pane was 6 feet tall and 4 feet wide. It was inconceivable. There was no way that window was that big. It looked completely normal. But the vast size of the Basilica tricks you into not realizing just how large it is. Like I said…it’s so large it looks small.

Besides seeing all the famous touristy sites, one of our main sources of entertainment here in Rome is trying to follow the Path of Illumination set out by Dan Brown in the book (and now movie) Angels and Demons. It just so happens that one of the churches (Santa Maria della Vittoria) is on the street that we live on, so I’ve taken my fair share of pictures of me doing my best Tom Hanks impression and running into the church. It’s one of those things that you just have to do in Rome.

I could tell you about the classes here, but I’m sure none of you Chasers really care. You’re reading for the stories, not the educational value. So all I’ll say is that the teachers are pretty good but also somewhat crazy. We have a history teacher (Jan) that has been on the History and Discovery Channel, and if you’ve ever seen any of the programs on those shows you know that the people they choose to interview are always the weird ones (Here's an impression of him by a former student...and that's him on the right in the beginning of the video). On top of that, we have a British theology teacher, an overly excited art teacher, and a language teacher that has an odd resemblance to Luigi. But other than those observations, classes here are just like classes anywhere else (except we hear about places like the Roman Forum while walking through it).

Since getting here, there have been many highlights. First off, a friend of mine flew out to visit for a week (he, Ben, is the one who received a shout-out in Part One). It was nice to finally see a different face than one of the 30 that I’ve seen every day. His presence definitely forced us to go out and do all the “touristy” things that we’re normally too stingy to pay for, such as go in the Colosseum and actually eat at a real Italian restaurant. But the most important thing that we did during his visit was to go see the Pope.

While sightseeing may have become routine during our semester abroad, seeing the Pope still holds its allure. As a Catholic boy who has gone to private Catholic schools for my entire life, this was a pinnacle moment. I mean, I value seeing the Pope higher than meeting the President: this is a guy I actually have faith in.

Basically, we were able to acquire free tickets to a “General Audience” with Pope Benedict XVI. The “audience” was held in the Vatican Auditorium, which is big enough to seat 12,000 people. We got there two hours early on Wednesday morning (8:30) to try and get good seats, but we still ended up about ¾ of the way back. Finally, the Pope appeared to raucous applause while cameras everywhere flashed brightly. He just sat in the front and waved for a while until everyone quieted down. Then, he gave a blessing in Italian that was later translated by 10 cardinals into 10 different languages. Finally, when all the translating was done, it was time for special shout-outs (I think he stole the idea from me). Each cardinal came up again and named different groups of people that were present from different countries. When the English cardinal came up, he notified the Pope of the “pilgrims from the UK and the United States” before listing off all the different groups that were present. Each time he would name a group, those people would stand and cheer while the Pope acknowledged them with a small wave or finger point. Since we didn’t get our tickets until the day before, we weren’t on the shout-out list. However, there was a group from St. Paul, Minnesota, and we decided that that counted for our shout-out too.

Though the entire audience was pretty memorable, the most unforgettable moment occurred when the English cardinal gave a shout-out to the “pilgrims from Fort Hood, Texas.” A large group of over 200 people stood and cheered loudly while waving mini American flags. As they cheered, the rest of the auditorium began clapping and cheering for them, clearly understanding the significance of the moment. The Pope even got out of his chair to acknowledge the group. It was the only time he did that during the entire service.

On top of seeing this beautiful city, we’ve also been to Subiaco since I last wrote. Subiaco is a mountainous retreat about 2 hours outside of Rome where St. Benedict founded the Benedictine order. He came up with his rules while living in a cave near the top of the mountain for 3 years; a cave that has since been turned into a church and monastery that looks like it is coming right out of the cliff side. The effect is pretty remarkable, and it’s easy to see why the Benedictine monks continue to use the area even today. The visit allowed us Bennies and Johnnies to observe our roots, because without St. Benedict, we wouldn’t have a school. It also allowed for more scenic views, as you’ll see in the picture slideshow.

In just a few short weeks, I’ve already fallen in love with Italy. I’ve thrown my coin into the Trevi Fountain (there’s many old superstitions that surround the fountain, and one is that if you throw a coin in over your left shoulder, you’ll return to Rome someday) already, but I’m going to try my best to enjoy my time here now. The end of our journey is already fast approaching. As I write, I am looking at a schedule and see that we only have 7 days of class left before finals. Oh how time flies.

You Chasers are now almost caught up on my time over here. This ends the three-part blog that started weeks ago, but since I started those three parts I’ve had many more exciting, funny, and memorable stories. But those will have to wait until next time. This final part of the three-part blog would have to be called Possibilities because of all that there is to do in this city. After surviving Problems and Patchwork, the Possibilities that lay ahead are endless.

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Pope Benedict XVI. It would be terrible of me to not give him the shout-out this post after he blessed some of my classmates and me. Though he didn't acknowledge us specifically, (we'll be going back, so he will) he still made for one of the most memorable moments of the trip.

European Insult Tally:

Bill: 1

Scott: 4

Matt: 1

Ryan: 3

Nothing new to report this post. We all realize that there's only so many days left, so hopefully we'll get some good ones in before we leave.

Here are the pictures from our first week in Rome and at Subiaco. Enjoy!

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

The Hills are Alive: Part Two of Three

When we left off at the end of Part One, the Three Caballeros and I were on our way to Venice; the city without cars, roads, or even land (but it does have gold to steal). It’s a city built without a solid base, carved into a marshy swamp that is actually sinking back to its muddy depths. No place could better represent our own little group. We ourselves were sinking into the murky bottoms of our own emotions, ready to probably throw each other into the labyrinthine canals that wove around our future destination. Our only hope for repair was an hour-long nap on a plane.

It’s amazing what a nap can do. A world can change with just 60 minutes of sleep and people can quickly forget their previous problems. While my anger wasn’t completely squashed by the 95 euro one-way ride, it did give me enough time to remember to stop fretting because, after all, we’re in Europe. There’s probably a lot of Chasers out there that wish they could be where I am. So, while I could go on about the airport catastrophe, I will no longer talk about that in my monologue.

Upon landing, we took a waterbus (large boat) to the island of Venice. The traffic system was amazingly complex, with giant wooden poles sticking out of the bay to make multiple channels in and out of the city. The boat ride lasted longer than the plane, but eventually we were dropped off at Per San Marco on the South side of the island. We clamored out of the boat, but were stopped short on the dock because the road ahead was nearly impassable. Running down the streets were thousands of people, moving quite swiftly. Apparently, we had chosen to come to Venice on the same day as the Venetian marathon. The fatigued runners served as yet another reminder of the long travel journey ahead of us.

We were in Venice for a total of two days. Overall, it’s a unique city, what with its romantic gondola rides (we didn’t take one), winding waterways, churches, and large bell towers everywhere. However, one can only take so many churches, squares, bridges, and boat rides before it all becomes the same. I guess what I’m saying is two days was probably the perfect amount of time. It allowed us to rest and gradually become more accepting of each other’s presence.

I think the moment that we all felt like friends again occurred as we were watched the live box score of the Vikings-Steelers game at a McDonald’s with Wi-Fi. As Brett Favre’s pass was intercepted and returned 84 yards for a Steelers touchdown (which on the Game cast was shown by a simple black and yellow line zooming down the field), we were all brought together by our shared disbelief and disappointment. Maybe that’s where “Minnesota Nice” comes from.

The next night we had to catch a train from Venice to Salzburg, Austria. The train station was thankfully right next to our hostel, so there would be no being late this time. We still showed up two hours early just to make sure, arriving at the terminal even before our train did. There would be no mistakes this time.

The night train was a bit different than we expected. First off, our cabin had beds, which was an immediate plus. The cabin was basically a 1-meter wide walkway with beds on both sides, two at head level and two on a seating level. It was plenty of room for four people. In our excitement we started thinking about playing cards, I-Spy, or any other countless activities that we had room for. But, we were soon informed that two more Europeans would be joining us in our cabin at the next stop. We folded two more beds out of the walls, which no longer made the cabin look spacious but instead like tightly packed army barracks. Like most college boys, we hoped that our two roommates would be cute European girls, but instead were gifted with a smelly 40-year old guy and a large, whiny woman who complained about everything, including how she could barely fit in the bed. So much for all our activities. I spy something fat and Romanian…

By the time 4:30 AM came around, we had all had a poor nights sleep, highlighted by the train continuously stopping, the whiny lady continuously hitting her head on the wall and yelping like this, and a dry breakfast consisting of three pieces of bread and some jam. Yummy, now I’m awake!

The platform in Salzburg was undergoing renovation, and therefore was open-air. Few things are as unpleasant as needing a place to sleep at 4:30 AM and being able to see your breath, so we decided to walk the 30 minutes to our next hostel and pray that they were open. Luckily, they were. We were greeted by a sweet old Austrian lady at the desk who only spoke German. Matt struggled though trying to explain our situation, but we were all getting prepared to fall asleep in the lobby until check-in time. We situated our bags for pillows but were stopped short by the old lady. Looking up to see if we had done something wrong, we saw her holding a room key and smiling. Not a bad first impression, Salzburg.

We all slept until 10:30 just to recharge from the night train before heading out to see what Salzburg had to offer. None of us really knew what there was to do in the Sound of Music city, but we were about to find out. We grabbed as many brochures as we could carry and headed out the door.

Let me now try and paint a picture of Salzburg for you. As we stepped outside, we were greeted by a perfectly clear sky and temperatures hovering around 12 degrees Celsius (55 degrees Fahrenheit). Fall was in the air with beautifully colored trees and the soft crunch of leaves beneath our shuffling feet. If there was ever a “taste of home” moment, this was it. Everything was reminiscent of Minnesota, except of course the large Alps covering the skyline that only served to beautify the scenery even more. Salzburg already impressed us more than any city we’d been to.

The main area of town was a welcome break from the bustling streets of Athens or the romantic alleys of Venice. The drivers weren’t constantly honking, the smell wasn’t unbearable, and the buildings actually all looked cool. In the center of the town, on top of a huge hill, was the medieval castle of Hohensalzburg, the oldest and best-kept castle in all of Europe. We took a tour (the best 7 euro I’ve spent so far) that allowed us some amazing views of the town below, along with the Alps that surrounded the city. I can tell you now this is the best picture album yet.

The next day we journeyed beyond Austria and into Germany. Our destination was the little town of Berchtesgaden, another gem of a town nestled in a valley between snow-capped peaks. Our purpose for this visit was to get a little bit of a history lesson about World War II and the importance of this area. Berchtesgaden, and the nearby town of Obersalzburg, is actually where Hitler’s house was. He spent a little over 1/3 of his wartime years here living on the side of a mountain that overlooked the town. We were given a tour of the famous area, including the remains of his house, the houses of his secretary and highest officers, the barracks for the SS troops, and the intricate bunker system dug deep within the mountain. The highlight of the mountain, however, is the Eagle’s Nest, a concrete house that sits at the top of the mountain.

The Eagle’s Nest was given to Hitler as a 50^th birthday present, but he only visited it 14 times, and never for more than a half hour. It is actually a teahouse, meant to show the grandeur of the Third Reich. After the war, it was left by the Allies and historians because of its significance and architectural greatness (Also, the Allies missed it while trying to do a bombing run over the mountain). The only way to access the Eagle’s Nest is on a winding road hidden beneath the trees of the mountainside that eventually dives into the cliffs and through a large tunnel that leads to the very center of the mountain. From there, a bronze and gold elevator large enough to fit 45 people takes the visitors up the remaining 111 meters to the top of the mountain. Unfortunately for us the road to the top was closed because of decreasing weather conditions, but we were still able to travel up most of the mountain and get a great view of the valley below. Though I can’t say I agree with any of Hitler’s morals, I can’t disagree with his thoughts on scenery. We finished off the day with some true German drinks and headed back to Salzburg for the night.

The final day was a day of rest and general enjoyment of Salzburg. We went to the grand opening of some new mall and mingled with other Salzborgians (not sure if that’s what they’re called) before heading back to the old town to just walk around a bit. Around noon, we toured the house where Wolfgang Mozart was born and saw some of his first instruments. This was pretty cool, especially for me because I used to play piano and considered myself a modern Mozart (I also played him in a school play, so this isn’t just my ego showing). Later, we walked to the main square at the base of Hohensalzburg Castle. There was a giant chessboard in the middle of the square, so naturally we decided to play. I challenged Ryan to a match and we played on while the sun set and the town around us lit up. It was quite the setting. Though I should have lost (Ryan moved his pieces so that we had a gentleman’s stalemate), the whole experience was pretty surreal. Many people stopped to watch us play, which felt cool but also added a lot of pressure. It was almost like having cheerleaders there as they clapped with approval or groaned in disappointment at times. I’m positive that a group of Asian tourists that stopped by for a while had mapped out an entire strategy for me, but I had no idea what it was.

We returned to our hostel to grab our bags and headed off to waste time until our night train arrived. We wouldn’t be leaving until 1:35 AM, so we played cards at a McDonald’s and hung out. It was at this point that we made the pact to never speak of the airline debacle again. Clearly, all tensions in the group were gone.

Surprisingly, we made it back to Rome without any troubling incidents. We went our separate ways and finally settled in with our new homes and roommates. From this point on, our trip is on the winding down phase. Everything is going to go fast. I now realize how much I have to savor the time I have left, because in an instant, I’ll be on my way back. But for now, I’m in Rome and going to live it up the best I can.

If Part One was titled Problems, then Part Two should be titles Patchwork. The Three Caballeros and I, along with the other 26 people on the trip, have now lived with each other for two months in the closest of quarters. Hopefully the patchwork can hold until the end of the trip, but there is much more to occur. As for what is coming up in Part Three, you can expect to hear about all the excitement of living in Rome. From a new face of a visiting friend to an audience with the Pope, there is much to look forward to in the next segment of Scott on the Rocks. Keep on reading, Chasers. There is only so much time left.

Here are the pictures from Venice and Salzburg...enjoy!

Special Shout-Out of the Day: The desk lady in our Salzburg hostel. Though I don't know her name, language, or anything else, she may be the nicest person we encountered on the trip. In fact, everyone in Salzburg was nice. But she gets the ultimate prize of the shout-out.

European Insult Tally:

Bill-1

Scott-4: I received a point for this trip because of my “I-Spy” comment that I made about the lady on our train. I’ll tell you what, though; you try to sleep by a woman who complains about everything from her back to the temperature all while leaving her light on half the night and see if you don’t insult her, too.

Matt-1

Ryan-3

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Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves

Will I Am Not: Part One of Three

Over the course of the last week and a half, a lot has happened to our little group of college kids.  In fact, so much has happened that I must split this blog into multiple parts as you can see above.  Right about now I should be working on a 6-8 page paper for Senior Seminar, but I need to get my words flowing so I have turned to the Chasers first.  I hope the stories that follow sufficiently fill your thirst for some Scott on the Rocks.

When I last wrote, we were on the verge of leaving Greece once and for all (well, probably not for all…I’m sure I’ll be back some day).  We woke up early on Saturday morning in order to get out of our apartments by 8:30 and off to the airport.  At first, everything seemed as if it would go swimmingly.  I initially thought that getting on the bus to the airport would be our biggest problem, but the X95 bus sat at the stop like a Christmas present under a tree.  This was going to be easy.  We would be arriving at the airport a full two hours before our flight left, which would leave us plenty of time for any problems.  And problems we would have.

They began the moment we made it to the EasyJet counter.  First up was Matt.  The lady at the desk stared at his passport a little too long, making us nervous.  She looked again at the confirmation email and then back to the passport.

 “Is your name Matt or Matthew?” she asked.

“It’s Matthew,” responded Matt.  “But Matt is my nickname.”

“Alright.  Well it says Matt on your ticket, but I’ll let it go.”

Whew…one man through, three to go.

Next was Ryan.  Apparently his bag was too big for the scale, so the lady made him take it to a special area on the other side of the airport.  According to Ryan, the man working at this other place took his bag without even checking any tags and threw it on a conveyor belt.  Hopefully it would be meeting us in Rome.  Two down...kind of.

I was the third man through.  By this point I was getting annoyed with the lady’s pettiness, which she of course continued to show.  My problem was that I had “too many carry-ons,” one of them being my backpack and the other being a duffel bag.  She made me squeeze the backpack inside the duffel bag before letting me walk away with it, but eventually I got it in and moved back so Bill could walk up.  Keep in mind that I just addressed him as Bill.

While Bill placed his bag on the scale, the lady eyed his passport and the last name on our group confirmation email.  Again, she did a double take before looking back up at Bill.  The question she asked was like déjà vu:

“Is your name Bill or William?” she asked, just as she had before.

“It’s William,” responded Bill.  “But Bill is my nickname.”

“Hang on, I have to get my supervisor.”

That was not the response I had expected.  Here was Bill, sitting there with almost the exact same clothing, haircut, and of course face as appeared on the passport sitting on the counter.  But the confirmation email said “Bill Solinger,” while the passport stated that he was “William Solinger.”  Dear God.

We waited for a supervisor to show up, not knowing what to do.  When he did, he grabbed the confirmation and the passport from the lady, looked at it, and again asked Bill what his name was.  Bill tried desperately to explain that “Bill” was a common nickname for “William,” but the supervisor wouldn’t buy it.  He directed Bill to the EasyJet help desk where he could try and change the name on his ticket.

Naturally the help desk made Bill call a help line, which kept him on hold until his phone ran out of battery a half hour later.  Meanwhile, our two-hour window to get on our plane had narrowed to under an hour, forcing Bill to “purchase” a new name.  The transaction cost an extra 45 euros, which I paid for since I had made the clerical error.  I have done my best to say “William” instead of “Bill” for the last week, and will continue to do so for the remainder of the trip.

The rest of the flight was uneventful.  Ryan’s bag did show up in Rome and we all hopped on the train into the city, eventually making it to our respective apartments.  Our apartment is huge (there are 7 of us, including Matt from the original Caballeros…the other players who may now factor in to future blog stories are Brian, Joe, Steve, Aaron, and Matt B), but I didn’t have much time to enjoy it then.  We needed to get to bed and be ready to leave for Venice on a 7:30 AM flight the next morning.  If you thought the Bill/William problem was a bad one, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

Since our travel group was split for the night (Bill…sorry William and Ryan are about a 20 minute metro ride from our place), we had planned to meet at the train to the airport at 6:00 AM.  The train would take a half hour to get to the airport, where we could then run to our terminal and get on our plane.  In theory, it sounded flawless.  But, as you might have guessed, we knew nothing about Rome and how long certain things would take.  We were in for a long day.

Matt and I arrived at around 5:30 AM at the train station, hoping that William and Ryan would do the same.  We bought a ticket for the 5:52 train and waited.  And we waited some more.  We waited until the train whistle blew to get on without Ryan and William ever showing, so we hopped on.  After all, the airplane departure was the important one and maybe William and Ryan were already there.

With hope that our friends would be somewhere around the airport, we made our way to the EasyJet terminal.  When we arrived it was already 6:30 and there was no Ryan or William in sight.  So we waited again.  I had Ryan’s confirmation email with me and I didn’t want to check in without him.  We tried to talk to the ladies at the EasyJet counter to see if they had seen Ryan or William, but none of them had checked them in.  We were now running out of time.  The check in ended promptly at 6:50, giving our counterparts about 5 minutes to show up before the clock hit zero.

With one minute left, we were ready to give up.  If we missed the flight, our only other option would be to pay 74 euros for a one-way ticket at 3:40 PM, or 95 euros for a flight at 9:20 AM.  Awesome.  Suddenly, we heard running from the hallway.  We looked behind us, praying that it was our two lost travelers, but instead it was four other girls from our trip trying to make the same flight.  We sprang up to join them in the check in line, yelling at them as they passed.

“Are Bill and Ryan with you?” (I messed up on the William part there)

“They’re right behind us!”

We were in business.  We stopped chasing after the girls and turned to wait for our companions.  But, once again, our waiting was in vain.  10 minutes later, the girls showed up and told us that check in had just closed right before they got there.  Game over.  Time to pay up.  But where were William and Ryan?

While Matt waited in the terminal, I decided to venture out with the girls to look for other ticket options and the other two guys.  Our search provided us with no cheaper options than the ones we already knew of, so we headed back to the EasyJet terminal.  Still no William or Ryan.  What follows from this point is my account of what happened.

It took until 7:30 for William and Ryan to actually stroll in to the terminal.  Tensions were high.  I personally can’t remember a time that I’ve been angrier.  According to them, they had arrived at the train station “right at 6,” probably moments after our train had left.  They “waited there as long as they could” before getting on and heading to the airport.  Once there, they decided against sprinting with the girls and instead waited at the train station outside the airport for Matt and I to show up, not knowing that somewhere inside we were doing the same thing.  This story didn’t help my emotions.  I could see that, deep down, they were blaming us for not waiting at the train station while I was busy blaming them for not making it to the airport; the one place that you can’t be late to.  (A little aside: we made a pact later on the trip to never speak of this incident again with Scott on the Rocks earning a special exemption.  So please, don’t ask us about this.  This is the last time any of us will ever speak of it)

Eventually we made it to Venice, but that’s for Part Two, along with the rest of the fall break trip.  If we were to label these parts, Part One would be Problems.  From here, there are many questions that I’m sure you have.  Do we sulk the rest of the trip?  Do we reconcile our differences and have a good time?  Do we even make it to our next destination?  The answers to these questions and more can be found in the next post.

Special Shout-Out of the Day: Ben Hause.  Hause might’ve quickly moved in to the top stop for “doing the most to get on the blog.”  He arrived in Rome to visit yours truly on Thursday…now that’s dedication to the cause right there.  For some odd reason, I don't think that dedication will be bested.

European Insult Tally:

Bill-1

Scott-3

Matt-1

Ryan-3

During Part One of this three-part post, we definitely received more insults than we gave out.  I would count the EasyJet lady not calling William by his name (I mean, come on…it’s Bill) as an insult for sure.

Ya digg?

Your friend or family member (or random acquaintance)

Scott Twelves