abbiamo fatto qualcosa

// we've done things

In spite of my lack of news, I have actually been doing stuff! I won't even try to fill you in on all of it, but instead I thought I'd scribble a few snapshots of some of the experiences I've had since arriving in Bologna.

Rimini aint no Rotto
Before school begins, a trip to Rimini. Feeling a little lonely at this point, not many social types in the dodgy little hostel I'm in. Rimini is what we all pray Rottnest will never become. Beaches so covered with games, playgrounds, chairs, volleyball courts that there is barely any space for the people. The tiny town is virtually ignored by the tourists, the beaches like a goiter on it´s side attract all the people. Lifeless, strangled by too many tourists and not enough culture. Still, not a bad day, interesting to see the place. Best thing about Rimini; an ice‑cream served inside a little pineapple.

Too much whiskey.
A Thursday, meeting some people for pizza. Yohann, Maaike, Bettina, Zoe, Andreas, Lucia. Afterwards nobody wants to go out but Yohann and I so we wander to Via Zamboni, the Northbridge of Bologna. Yohann's flatmate Giordano meets us there and we down a few beers before running into some Swiss girls who are off to the 'shot shot bar' for 1euro shots. We arrange to meet them at another bar and when they arrive the sweet shy girls have become hilarious crazy entertainers.

We all head off to an underground (literally) bar/club that plays half decent rock. I order a scotch, which in Australia would be a few millilitres in the bottom of a glass, but in Italy I discover it's half a (plastic) glass of really decent whiskey. So, from this point forward how much more detail are you expecting exactly...? There was dancing, lots of photos, fairly certain there was some vodka and red bull. Yohann kindly walked me home, we're pretty sure we traversed most of the city in the process given that our map‑reading skills were somewhat non‑existent. The next day I learned that one of the Swiss girls stumbled her way home on her own and has a big semi‑circle injury on her forehead to show for it. Quite a fun evening, like being 18 again.

Scaling the due torri.
Bologna was once full of towers, evidence of the social rivalry of various powerful and rich families. Quite literally a measuring contest; my tower is bigger than your tower. Today, there are only a few left and of those, two are famous. The whole town plan converges on these towers, five main streets span out from them.

So, I climbed the towers the other day, in spite of the fact that you're not supposed to scale the tower until you have graduated ‑ bad luck or something. I figure I graduated from TAFE so that counts, I'll be safe. There are a LOT of steps, not sure how many but it's definitely well into the hundreds. The wooden steps were pericoloso (seriously I have just forgotten the word for dangerous... Perilous?) because they were so thin, old, worn smooth by centuries of feet traversing up and down. There was a lot of puffing from all quarters and many grazies and pregos to the people who stood aside for others to pass.

At the top I was met with the Bologna I have grown to love through photos and postcards. A stunning view over the city, now-familiar buildings, my school, the main Piazza, across to San Luca church on top of the hill. I lingered for a while before heading back down, back past the puffing tourists (I am fitter than I thought!) and around, around, around the little tower.

Lucca
Seriously, if you're single and wish you weren't, don't visit me in Italy. It's the worst country in the world for a not happily single person to be. As I write this (on the little keyboard I bought for my phone, v technological, me), I'm sitting on the city walls of Lucca, where I am surrounded by no less than seven kissing couples! People kiss everywhere in this place. I flashed a smile of approval at a couple of kids who ran up here with little fireworks and set them off near people who were getting a bit too hot. Ok, so I'm bitter, but it was pretty funny to see them jump!

Lucca is a pretty little town totally destroyed by the scourge of tourism. American accents and backpacks abound in this town, with people loudly complaining when it turns out that what they ordered was actually chicken and not fish. Today there were antique markets everywhere. I was a little bit in heaven and a little bit in hell, I love to look but I hate not being able to buy.

Lucca is surrounded by grassy city walls, high above the green plain surrounding the old town on one side, and the treeless streets on the other. Mountains are visible in all directions (like the couples) and there is a distant hum of traffic from the streets surrounding the old town.

There are churches here, San This and San That. I went into a couple of them but there were too many people wandering around with their cameras out, ignoring the 'vietato' (forbidden) signs indicating that photography is decidedly not cool. I learned one of two interesting things by following a tour group around but forgot everything an hour later, so I can't share it with you.

I'm unsure about Lucca, it was worth seeing and it was a pretty day, but the townspeople don't like tourists (don't blame them) so after a place like Bologna (few tourists, people are always happy to help) it felt unfriendly. The grass factor was definitely a bonus though, the Italian cities I've visited so far have all been treeless, so it was nice to be reminded on nature. Oh, and the train ride there was stunning.

Worth a visit but not a long stay.

Food
Can't come to Italy and not talk about food!

My favourite hangout in Bologna is a little restaurant called "Osteria dell'Orsa" and it's conveniently close to my house, and also cheap. They do an amazing pasta dish with asparagus. It has a casual air, lots of students, kind of like hanging out in someone's backyard.

Being as multicultural as we are at my school (there is only one other Australian, most people are Swiss or Japanese), we have had a few nights at each other's houses cooking our national foods. It's great for me because kangaroos and emus aren't exactly easy to find in the shops here, so I get away with just bringing the wine.

I've had a dinner cooked by a Japanese girl and a French boy; rabbit, cheese, spaghetti with rongoli (seafood) and strawberries with mascarpone. Another meal was cooked by Swiss and Japanese; various dishes that I can't spell or pronounce but all delicious.

In general, the food is of course fantastic and the prices are acceptable. But, you really have to love Italian food to visit Italy. You can't be vegetarian (well, you can try). In recent years more and more 'ristoranti etnici' - ethnic restaurants - have appeared, but the main fare is still pizza, pasta, ham and cheese. No complaints from me but we'll see how long it takes before I need to buy bigger pants! Honestly, I realise people go on for ages about Italian food but I think I've just about covered it. It's great, but not exactly varied. Why stray from perfection!

Giordano, paper plane hero.
In a future post you'll hear about the people here. One of them is Giordano, the flatmate of one of the guys at my school. He's Italian, from Rome, and hilarious, much like having your own personal clown in tow. Last weekend, he kindly drove a group of us to the beach at Ravenna.

Italian beaches when compared to Australian beaches are at best ok, at worst really really crap. Ravenna is not bad, you can't see through the water but the sand is ok. We staked our claim and lay in the sun (here the sun is just warm and cosy, not sizzling like at home), I swam for a bit, and then we had a paper plane competition when I started folding my table napkin at lunch. Giordano won and ran around in great excitement. We played volleyball (I sucked) and hung out for a while before traipsing through the beach party crowd (ala the Cott on a Sunday) and heading home, exhausted.

So far...
So far, I've met some really fun people, am managing to pick up some Italian, and have very few moments to myself. I've missed lots of things out, like our picnic at San Luca (a church above the city, you climb uphill under 666 porticoes to get there), our Monday meals with the school, the aperitivi (each evening Italian bars serve tapas for as long as you keep drinking) and my little fling with a french boy (over now but lots of fun). The decision to learn Italian for a month was definitely a good one!