Barcelona + Rome + Switzerland

I’m a little backlogged on blogging about my travels, but I suppose better late than never. After my journey to Siracusa with Iman, I flew up to Barcelona to meet a group of college friends: Mimi, Ryan, Joe, and Steve. My journey to Barcelona was a bit of a hot mess because I had a connection through Rome, and a few weeks earlier, Rome Fiumicino airport had an electric fire in one of its terminals, creating chaos and frustration as they tried to land and fly out far more flights than they were capable of currently handling.

But I finally arrived in Barcelona, took a train into the city from the airport, and climbed up what could only have been a small mountain to get to my hostel. Okay, it was just an inclined street, but after a long day of travelling, it was basically Mt. Everest. Upon arriving at the hostel, I learned that I had been placed in a totally different dorm from all of my friends, who were all in the same room, despite my careful orchestration and prior assurances that we would all be in the same room. It was a “classic Gargi” moment, but from experiencing the combo of emotions from finishing teaching, finally seeing some of my best friends, and getting ready for the journey of a lifetime, I almost cried right then and there in front of the hostel receptionist.

But I managed to pull myself together with my main motivation in life: food. With the group that was currently there, I went out to a nice tapas dinner with sangria on a busy restaurant street near our hotel. Each hot, spicy, flavorful bite of Spanish food was absolute bliss after 9 months of Italian food, which has its merits, but can get pretty old for me.

The next morning, Steve arrived, making our whole crew complete. We went to Park Guell that day after printing our tickets online. Park Guell is one of Gaudi’s many architectural wonders. Part of the park is open and free and part of it is an architectural smorgasbord, full of whimsical structures and designs. The sun was relentless, however, and we were all a little short on sleep. Other than walking around and exploring the city a little more, the main events of that day occurred later in the evening. First, we went to a tapas bar where each plate cost 1-euro, and you served yourself by taking said plates from the bar. We all ate an absurd amount, tasting the many varieties of Spanish food, like croquettes, chorizo, and small paella dishes. And later that night, we went out to a club in true Barcelona fashion. Joe was the experienced Barcelona traveler, so he picked the club. But that night also coincided with the championship UEFA soccer game, which FC Barcelona won. So the streets were packed with soccer fans. People were honking everywhere and chanting team slogans. Traffic was ridiculous, and it took our taxis forever to get to the club. It turned out not to matter anyway, because we were still among the earliest people at the place, as to be expected in Spain. It was one of those ideal dancing nights: not too crowded, but not too empty, our whole group was fun together, and things went relatively smoothly. Spain has consistently been one of my favorite countries to go out in.

The next morning, some of us decided to go to Barcelonetta, the beach area of Barcelona because it was Joe’s birthday and he had been wanting to go to the beach for a while. It turned out to be a comedy of errors. First of all, the trip had already been postponed to Sunday morning. Then, we were running a little late. We finally got to the beach, took our shoes off, set our toes on the sand, and realized it was scorching hot and we forgot to bring a towel. So we hurriedly set off to buy a towel from one of the nearby stores, and then the 4 of us that had gone carefully squeezed together on one towel, trying to avoid touching the white hot sand around us. The beach was comically overcrowded, but still a fun time with friends.

Afterwards, Steve and I went to the Sagrada Familia which was the definite highlight of my time in Barcelona. Another one of Gaudi’s creations that has been under construction on and off for a hundred years now, the Sagrada is unlike any other cathedral I’ve ever been to. Unlike the ornate structures of the approximately 1 million European churches I had seen up to that point, the Sagrada’s aesthetics were clean, neat, based on light and color, and remarkably futuristic. The exterior, which looks a bit like a melting, wonky Gothic cathedral, impressive in and of itself, is nothing compared to the light and spiritual serenity inside. It’s truly something to see, and one of the most unique things I’ve ever seen in my life.

The next day, Steve and I flew over to Rome, where we were going to meet 2 more very good friends from college, Gillian and Sophia. It was a joyous reunion with some of my favorite people in the whole world. Mimi and Ryan were also in Rome, along with one of Steve’s friends and her boyfriend, so the whole crew of us went out to dinner in Rome. It was actually quite emotional for me to be sitting at a table full of my American peers and friends after spending many dinners eating by myself in restaurants. Later that night, some of us grabbed some bottles of wine and sat on the bridge by Castel San’Angelo, listening to a street performer and admiring the gorgeous views of the Vatican’s splendors. It was a veritable Roman holiday.

My time in Rome was very laid back. Steve and I spent a lot of time wandering and enjoying the city without feeling like we had to run to all the tourist spots because the two of us had already seen them all. We did go back for round 2 at St. Peter’s Basilica because that’s always a marvel.

Our last night in Rome, Steve, Gillian, Sophia, and I decided to stop by this Irish pub that’s always intrigued me, particularly because it was karaoke night. Unfortunately, about 100 other American college-age kids also had the same idea. The bar was overrun by what looked like southern frats and sororities, and for a moment, I forgot I was in Italy and thought I had magically transported myself back to Texas.

The next day, we began our long journey to Lauterbrunnen, a small village town in Switzerland. One of our crew was unfortunately quite sick that day, and Fiumicino airport was still rather chaotic. After a delay on our flight to Zurich, we landed and tried to decipher the Swiss rail system. Lots of decisions were made, hands were wrung, and finally we managed to hop on the train. The train journey to Lauterbrunnen is simple to the experienced, but intimidating and cruelly long for us weary travellers: first, to Bern, then to Interlaken, then to Lauterbrunnen.

That very day, the reliable and trustworthy Swiss rail system–known for being one of the best in the world–had a disruption on the exact line we were trying to take from Bern to Interlaken. We were also surrounded by a group of hundreds of rather intense music fans who were going to a rock music festival in Interlaken. We had to take an alternate route to Interlaken, and after many rowdy rounds of “Wonderwall,” we separated from our music festival friends and managed to catch one of the last trains to Lauterbrunnen. We arrived in Lauterbrunnen at almost 11, and despite limited visibility, were immediately captivated by the quasi-magical atmosphere around us. There was a waterfall in the distance, civilization was far behind us, and suddenly we were surrounded by the tranquility of a quiet, rural town.

I chose Lauterbrunnen because supposedly this is the location that inspired J.R.R. Tolkien when he created Rivendell in Lord of the Rings. I received (perhaps, rightfully) many jokes because of this (“Look! There’s an elf, Gargi!”), but I think all of us who were there would admit that it’s an undeniably magical place. On our first day, we went on a hike through the mountains near us, and for every single second of the walk, we were immersed in a kind of natural beauty I’ve never seen before. I can’t imagine ever getting tired of those views. On our walk, we eventually stumbled into a town called Murren and then into an even smaller town where we had one of the most delicious and refreshing lunches I’ve ever had in a tiny beer garden. We also found a store called “The Honesty Shop” that has no attendant; you take what you want and leave the appropriate amount of money in an envelope. There, Gillian and I began our love affair with Ovomaltine, our new favorite Swiss chocolate. It truly felt like walking through a Disney movie.

Our other friend Michael joined us in Lauterbrunnen, making it a Veritones alumni retreat of sorts. There was lots of excellent conversation and cuddling. We promised to come back in 5 years for a Lauterbreunion (see what I did there?). For one of our days in Switzerland, Gillian and I made use of our rail pass by accompanying Steve and Michael on their journeys back. First, we stopped in Interlaken, a village quite literally between 2 lakes. We walked around one of the lakes and then had another excellent lunch at a restaurant nearby. I had a life-changing strawberry and brie risotto.

After separating from Michael, the 3 of us went on to Bern, where we spent the rest of the day. We walked around the Einstein museum, an in-depth look at his life and his work which I found very interesting. The city of Bern, which is actually the capital of Switzerland, was very sweet and cute-looking. It seemed to not have changed much since when it was built hundreds of years ago. After exploring Bern, we said goodbye to Steve, who was headed back to Zurich, and then America. Gillian and I went back to Lauterbrunnen, where the 3 of us ladies began our first of many nights together with just us.

Lauterbrunnen, beyond being unbelievably beautiful, was a very important break from city-hopping for us. The next day, however, we were back at it, as we headed back to Zurich for our flight to Prague.

At Park Guell

The Sagrada Familia

The amazing interior

Spiez, Switzerland

Lauterbrunnen

On our hike

Interlaken

Bern

Where Einstein lived

Roma 2.0

We left off at my departure from Florence. Thankfully I made it to the train station with plenty of time and managed to board the correct train. I love trains. You see so much of the landscape. They have so much more charm than airplanes. But there is a ridiculous amount of anxiety involved while boarding and disembarking from them (at least in Italy). I’ve been shoved aside, casually pushed back in line, and blocked from my suitcase in the luggage compartment by an unsolvable passenger traffic jam. I’m also haunted by something I witnessed when I was heading up to Salerno. Two young women with rather large suitcases were waiting by the doors of the train as it pulled in to their stop. When the train stopped, they pushed the “Open Door” button to exit, but nothing happened. And by the time they realized the door was actually broken and tried to lug their suitcases to the other side of the carriage, the train had already left. So whenever I get ready to disembark a train, I always have to mentally prepare myself, suitcase in hand, to sprint to the other side of the carriage if that button doesn’t work.

I’d already spent a week in Rome with my parents checking off most of the touristy things from my list, so when I got off (safely and correctly) at Termini train station, I was confused about what to do for 2 days until some friends came down to join me.

My hostel was more than a little disappointing. After the delight that was The Academy Hostel in Florence, my new place was dark, unfriendly, and isolating. Unlike The Academy Hostel (which has a open, brightly lit common space and rooms all on the same floor), Alessandro Palace and Hotel’s rooms were split up on different floors in a large building. Their common space was a dim, sad bar, and the crowd didn’t seem to be solo travelers, but rather, people already there in groups. It also seemed to be more of a party hostel/crowd, and I wasn’t really feeling it. Additionally, it was freezing in Rome, and the heating in my lackluster room was abysmal. After 2 weeks of travelling and hostel life, I knew I couldn’t last long. Spoiler alert: I ended up moving to a legitimate hotel after a few nights. The privacy and functioning heater were totally worth it.

During my 2 solo days in Rome, I decided to wander and see if I found anything cool on my own. I was tired of planning my days and having a list of sites, so I wanted to wing it a little.

My first evening in Rome I headed over to Villa Borghese and found the entrance to the museum in the impressive garden area. I wasn’t expecting much, honestly, after my time in the artistic haven of Florence. But the Borghese museum went above and beyond my (misguided) expectations. The paintings were notable and quite a few were famous, but the real crown jewel of the museum is its sculpture collection. The Berninis alone are stunning. Some of my favorites were his David and Apollo and Daphne. The construction of details and incredible delicacy were truly awesome. The fact that tickets for the next 2 days had been sold out in advance should have tipped me off that the Borghese Museum is a real stunner. But again, thanks to my magical Fulbright museum card, I not only managed to sneak in without a reservation, I also paid a fraction of the normal entrance price.

I also hadn’t gotten a chance to explore Via Veneto the last time I was in Rome. Via Veneto is a famously fancy street with expensive shopping, hotels, and restaurants. Fellini’s La Dolce Vita brought the street much of its current popularity. While walking around that area, I stumbled across the Capuchin Church and Crypt. I had heard the name before, and it piqued my interest, but I was not quite sure what I was walking into.

The Church and the contemporary museum that details some of the traditions and history of the Capuchin monks were enlightening and interesting but nothing truly remarkable. I kept walking through, skimming some plaques, until I reached the end of the museum with a sign leading into the crypt. I didn’t really know what to expect until I walked inside the Crypt and my jaw almost fell to the floor. The Crypts contain the remains of over 3,500 Capuchin friars (or so it is said). But they’re not just skulls and bones sorted haphazardly. Instead, the bones have been arranged into forms, nailed on to the ceilings and walls, and used to create various symbolic shapes and designs. The intention of the art is not to be morbid but rather to use death to depict life. Regardless, it is quite difficult to walk through the crypt and not get the–for lack of a more poetic term–heebie jeebies.

I didn’t take any pictures because it just seemed too intrusive and disrespectful, but you can easily Google the place and get an idea of what I’m talking about. There’s nothing quite like physically walking through the Crypt and seeing everything for yourself–bones surround you from head to toe. The museum ticket and detour to check out this place is definitely worth it, especially if you’ve already done the major Rome things.

With the rest of my time, I revisited some of my favorite Piazzas, including Piazza del Popolo and Piazza Navona. I continued to draw in my sketchbook, and did a pretty decent rudimentary sketch of the dome of a cathedral.

Another personal mission while in Rome included not eating Italian food. Look, I totally get it. Italian cuisine is world-renowned. And I do eat very well in Messina. The sheer quality of produce and other products in the grocery stores is remarkable. But homegirl needs some spice in her life. I ended up checking out a sushi place for lunch one day, and went over to the Vatican area to have dinner with Iman at a legitimate Indian restaurant (one sip of a mango lassi and I almost burst into tears). While I have become an expert “table for one” customer at a restaurant, it was wonderful to have some great company while eating my favorite kind of food.

Eventually, Matt, Naji, and fellow Fulbrighter and Naji’s roommate Dan came down to Rome from Milan, followed shortly after by Liz, a Harvard classmate and Fulbright ETA in Norway. I cannot even begin to tell you how much I appreciated being around American peers. It was  the most relaxed I’ve felt in months. Conversation was easy, cultural references were understood, and jokes did not require belabored explanations. I’m pretty convinced that after my sense of linguistic and cultural isolation here, I’ll be able to befriend and be infinitely appreciative of pretty much any English speaker I meet.

But of course the merits of my friends went far beyond the bare minimum. They’re all truly funny and fun-loving people, which resulted in many very long and very cold but also equally enjoyable walks back from the Vatican after dinners at Matt’s favorite Roman restaurant- Mama’.

On New Year’s Eve, the crew (Iman, Liz, Matt, Naji, Dan, and I) all met up for dinner before walking down to the Colosseum area to watch the fireworks at midnight. I had been warned by multiple people that big cities in Italy can be quite dangerous on New Year’s Eve. People set off bombs–seriously, legit bombs–and fireworks without warning. Besides being problematic in the obvious ways, being too close to one of these can seriously damage your hearing. I was slightly on edge the whole time we were out on the streets. People were rowdy, and I didn’t know what to expect. When we finally got to the Colosseum area, I relaxed a little bit. I bought a bottle of overpriced champagne from a street vendor (because what is New Year’s Eve without champagne?), and we–in the classiest of ways–passed the bottle around after the countdown.

Speaking of which, there really wasn’t a countdown. I don’t know if I’ve made this abundantly clear, but keeping time is not one of Italy’s strong suits. We managed to have our own countdown because we were looking at our watches, but no one else really noticed or cared. All of a sudden it was 2015 and the fireworks increased in intensity.

Afterwards, we headed in the direction of Campo dei Fiori, a young area with lots of bars and clubs. Just as we walked into the piazza, one of the infamous bombs that I was warned about exploded and it truly made us all jump out of our shoes. We scampered into a bar and decided to stay inside the rest of the night. At around 5:00 a.m., we finally realized how exhausted we were and headed back home. We caught a cab back towards the area of the city where our hotels/hostels were and after annoying our poor, sober cab driver to pieces, we all finally collapsed, face first into our beds.

At around noon on January 1st, we began to display signs of life again as we texted each other “Can’t move. Going back to sleep.”

After reuniting the night of January 1st for one last dinner all together at Mama’, the boys left on the 2nd. Liz and I headed up to the Colosseum area that day. Seeing the whole thing again was no less impressive than the first time. If anything, it was nice to spend some time looking at it on my own instead of with a tour group. Later that night, Liz, Iman, and I had dinner at an Argentinian restaurant, probably because of my determination to eat as much non-Italian food while I could.

And on the 3rd, I came back to Messina. After 2 weeks of traveling, I was so ready to head home and sprawl out in my bed, but unfortunately, I hit one last snafu. I’ve been ridiculed by Italians and Americans alike for taking the 8.5 hour Intercity direct train from Rome to Messina or vice versa. So for my return trip, I opted for a “faster” journey on one of the high-speed trains to Villa San Giovanni, where you can catch a ferry across the strait to Messina. I managed to get on the ferry alright, although I had to lug my suitcase up several flights of stairs to get to the passenger deck. When we landed in Messina, I disembarked and suddenly realized that I had absolutely no idea where I was. This particular ferry (Caronte and Tourist) did not take me to the port that was near my apartment, and the one I’m familiar with. Rather, it dropped me off 40 minutes away at a port further down.

Between waiting for the ferry to take off at San Giovanni and the 40 minute walk back home, the journey ended up taking about the same amount of time and twice the hassle of the direct Intercity train. At least now I know. But during that 40 minute walk, sweaty and grimy from my travels, backpack digging into my shoulder, suitcase rattling so much on the sidewalk that my arm almost fell off, I thought I was going to explode from frustration or suddenly collapse from exhaustion.

One hot shower later, I realized that I did it! I told myself I would make the most of my winter holiday, and I planned and executed this 2-week trek all by myself. It was thanks to many friends, old and new, along the way that I have many of my treasured memories. But it was also fulfilling and liberating to travel on my own. I’m so grateful for my experiences in 3 beautiful cities, and I can’t wait to explore many more.

P.S. I have a snow day home from school tomorrow. In Messina. Absurd.

The Nativity scene at St. Peter’s Square. Arguably THE Nativity Scene.

Caravaggio in Santa Maria del Popolo

Santa Maria Maggiore, another major cathedral in Rome

The beautiful floor in Santa Maria Maggiore–this type of marble coloring is found in many old Italian buildings

More Santa Maria Maggiore

St. Peter’s at night