Charles – Page 2 – GW Blogs from Abroad

Signs

AdminOctober 8, 2012

People don’t go out at night here. Not like back in the states. Unlike New York, or L.A. or D.C., Florence is a city that sleeps. Around 12 AM, the city’s maze-like web of ancient streets empty out completely, and its denizens settle into a collective slumber beneath the Tuscan stars.

Or at least…it seems that way.

You see, I’ve found myself out late at night on a few occasions lost coming back from friends’ homes from across the city, and what I’ve said is true. The streets are virtually empty. No gypsies, no busses, no tour guides, and no policemen. The occasional cat may streak through the muted orange light of a streetlamp every so often, but people are a rare find.

And yet, there’s something out at night. Something sending the city charming, thoughtful, and sometimes eerie messages.

...continue reading "Signs"

“Scusate”

AdminOctober 5, 2012December 14, 2018

By oncptime

Normally, you wouldn’t think of “I’m sorry” as slang. In Italy, however inflection is everything and scusate or “I’m sorry” is something of a chameleon word. By the end of my first day of Italian classes I’d learned three things: Carlo was to be my Italian name, my professor and I shared an undying love for 50’s American jukebox music, and apparently scusate would be the one phrase I needed to know for the next 24 hours.

“In Italy, scusate is more than sorry,” Nicoletta (my professor) explained matter-of-factly. “It is an apology. It is an assertion. Scusate is a foreigner’s best friend"

...continue reading "“Scusate”"

Ostello Ambienti Or “Hostel Environments” pt. 1

AdminSeptember 10, 2012December 14, 2018

By oncptime

I made it into Florence from Rome around 7PM. I was quite pleased with myself. I’d managed to navigate my way through the Italian countryside and end up smack dab in the middle of Florence, my home for the next four months. Sloughing my two bags from the ever-heady platforms of the train station, I bee-lined for the nearest payphone. I was going to call my Italian contact, get the keys to my new flat, move into said flat and begin living the good life.

“I’m sorry,” Petra’s pleasant recorded message intoned. “The Florence & Abroad office is closed for the week. Our normal business hours are Monday through Friday from 8AM to 5PM. Have a nice day.”

I was floored.

...continue reading "Ostello Ambienti Or “Hostel Environments” pt. 1"

Lost in Camaraderie

AdminAugust 31, 2012December 14, 2018

By oncptime

Once in a blue moon, I’ll become a planner. Without notice, my attention to prepatory detail will skyrocket. I’ll memorize dates, addresses, routes of travel, alternate routes of travel, weather plans—you name it. I glide through my planned journeys with a Gabby Douglas-like deftness. That said, the moon is rarely blue and it’s even rarer still that I actually slip into planer-mode. More often than naught, I tend to just…go with the flow.

“Buy your plane ticket a few months in advance!” My study abroad advisor warned. I put it off until about a month before I was to show up in Florence. “Be sure to learn a few key Italian phrases before you go!” My friends suggested. I snapped a few photos from my traveller’s companion as I disembarked from my plane in Rome. “Have a plan!” My mentor urged me. I didn’t. Not really.

You see I tend to err on the side of “pfft, it’ll be fine!” because generally speaking, it’s always fine. Trekking through New York to Jersey to get to Newark International was a joy. I met/fell in love with/considered proposing to a gorgeous customs officer during breezed through my layover in Montreal. Sure, I’d bought my tickets and glanced at them in passing a few weeks before I set out to travel. But I definitely hadn’t poured over and memorized them the way a true planner would have. “This,” I thought. “Is going to be a piece of cake.” And it was.

Until I got to Rome.

...continue reading "Lost in Camaraderie"

By oncptime

I’m less than a day away from leaving the U.S. and I find myself in a bit of an odd position. I’m writing this laying on the hardwood floor of a friend’s apartment in northern Jersey. Now you might be thinking to yourself “Why’s he laying on a wooden floor? That can’t be comfortable.” And you know, you’re right. It really isn’t. I’m down here, you see, to take inventory of the hoarding extravaganza that is my suitcase.

Months ago, when Italy shifted from a “maybe” to a “definitely”, I began to fantasize about the nomadic lifestyle I’d live while abroad. I’d trek across the globe armed with nothing but a simple rucksack and a hunger for worldly adventure. I’d befriend chic gypsies and schmooze my way into state-sponsored soirees with the consulate. I’d throw myself to the wind and like a leaf I’d dance and glide my way across Europe with whimsy and grace. In short, I was going to be amazing.

Thing is though? All of that amazingness is pretty damn difficult to pull off when you’re lugging 100+ pounds of crap on your back.

...continue reading "True Life: I Overpacked for Study Abroad"