Posts Tagged ‘world’

Pisa and Florence

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

pisaAs I entered Italy, the tour bus stopped first at Pisa and then went on to Florence. Pisa, of course, is known for its leaning tower. The tour guides don’t let you get close to it, because it could fall over at any moment. It’s strange as you stand there, feeling like the ground is maybe tilted because buildings aren’t normally slanted.

Florence is absolutely beautiful, with houses along the river that are peach, orange, and yellow. It truly looks exotic with a bridge arching three times across the river. A statue of Dante stands before the Santa Croce church, which is a cathedral. Michelangelo’s David sculpture is located at the Academie, and the Uffizi Museum includes many famous paintings by artists such as Florentino and Botticelli.Pisa-and-Florence

The problem with tour buses is that even though you get to see a lot of sights, they don’t give you enough time to enjoy them. We did Pisa and Florence all in one day, and spent the night in Rome. But I didn’t even tell you all that we did that day: Leaning Tower of Pisa, leather factory, Santa Croce church, other cathedral, Academie, pizza at the pizzeria (Italian pizza is not as good as American), outdoor market, famous old bridge, and Uffizi Museum.florence-2

Imagine doing all this in one day and spending the night in a different city. We did this breakneck speed for a full month. Imagine the blur that would be in your mind as you tried to remember the different cities, especially when you were sick most of the time due to the cold, wet conditions at the camp on most nights. I’m hugely grateful that I was able to see all these famous places for a dirt cheap price, but I don’t feel like I visited Europe properly. When I was in Germany I had a fever and felt like I was going to slam into the concrete. I just wanted to go home. In Venice I nearly blacked out because my cramps were so severe. In southern France, I put my sleeping bag in the bathroom/laundromat because I was so desperate to be slightly warmer. I felt like a homeless person. So I have mixed feelings as I write about my “Nightmare through Europe” tour. I’m telling you this so you don’t make the same mistake. The first night in Paris should have been a sign. I was so cold, I felt pain in my bones. To tflorence-3his day, whenever I get cold, my bones hurt. I also developed claustrophobia during that tour, which took me 20 years to overcome.

My aim in writing these travel blog entries is to give you a taste of each culture, so that as a homeschooling mother, you will enjoy teaching geography to your children. It occurs to me that discontent might enter the hearts of some of you who might have never visited these places. I’m telling you from someone who has done it: it’s better for you to look at a picture of Florence while sipping a cup of coffee at your house. At least you can take a deep breath and relax and not be rushed.

And you neveflorence-4r know. God is so sweet. You have no idea how perfectly God has planned your life, including all the painful experiences being turned into good. He might just give you a second chance some time in the future when your hair is gray and you suddenly have lots of money now that you’re ricketty and can’t enjoy it. But who says that’s true? My husband and I feel ricketty right now, and we’re barely 40. I know an older couple from my church who travels the world now that they have gray hair, and they have way more energy than my husband and I do. You never know what the future will hold. God knows what is in your heart. Love the people you’re with, and live in the moment. Yield to God and have contentment. That’s the secret to life.

Flamenco Show

Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010

flamenco-showDarkness. A man on center stage, four women dancers on each side. Man shouts out. Lights flash on stage. Audience stares at his face, twisted in agony and tension as he sings with his entire being. Suddenly two guitars enter the background. Everyone on stage dances spectacularly. Clickety-clack. Snappety-snap. Ole. Abada. Ole. The first song and dance ends. Lights out. Stage empties.

A duet of guitarists, playing quickly and skillfully. They keep looking at each other as if they are competing and answering each other with their guitars. Faster, faster. Really gooflamenco-show-2d.

A new male singer on stage. Sad song. Love song. Woman sings with her entire being. She’s good. She dances. Man and woman dance. Man seems sad. The woman dumped him apparently. He sings sadly and is dancing alone. It becomes happier as they become reunited and begin to dance together again.

The songs have a flamenco-show-3story to them. It’s like the opera, except for the style of the music. The dresses are gorgeous. The dancers are all experts – every muscle is in the correct position. Confident and dramatic postures. Looks beautiful on stage.

One male dancer is looking straight at me. He sings with extreme intensity, then looks at me for a response. I snap a picture, and he seems pleased.

The final act is a line-up. Each dancer has a solo dance. The couple dances in a romantic way. Suddenly we were all clapping loudly as the central main dancer dances faster and faster and faster. His feet are a blur. The dancing stops, and loud applause thunders the room.

I return to camp and breathe a final “Ole” as I fall asleep.

Paris at Midnight

Monday, June 21st, 2010

ParisI woke up in the middle of the night, freezing. I unzipped my sleeping bag, shoved my tennis shoes onto my feet, and exited the tent. My shoes sank into the deep mud. It was raining in Paris, and it was six degrees below zero.

I quickly ran to the camp bathroom and returned to re-enter my tent. I realized that my sleeping bag was not insulated. This was supposed to be spring. I put on all of the clothing in my backpack. I was still cold. My feet and hands felt like ice. I crossed my legs so that my feet were warmed by the back part of my knees. I felt so bundled up that I could hardly move. I felt claustrophobia for the first time in my life.Paris-2

The next morning a few people from my tour bus (all 18 and 19, while I was 21) had frostbite. When they moved their fingers, blood came out. Indeed, it was not an exaggeration that we were freezing to death. My nose was running, and I had a cold. Not surprising.

At least we were on our way to the Eiffel Tower. It seemed surreal as I stood there, looking at it. We rode on an elevator to the top, and we looked out over Paris. It was a dreary, overcast day, but it was still magical, because I was in Paris.Paris-3

I saw the Arc de Triomphe up close, and the sculptures were intricate. Cars drove past it all the time without even noticing it. The Notre Dame Cathedral was magnificent with its stained glass windows and its imposing structure.

I went to a small cafe and ordered coffee. The Frenchman behind the counter was rude to me and gave me a teeParis-4nsy weensy cup with a shot of the strongest coffee I’ve ever tasted. I looked around and wished I had an easel so I could paint. Except that I had no energy, so it was just as well.

The Louvre Museum had so many famous works of art, including the Mona Lisa. After waiting a long time to see it, it was encased in glass and was far smaller than I thought. I wish I had had more time to see the wonderful artwork; it seemed almost like I was jogging through the entire museum just to see it all before the tour guide told us we had to go back to camp.