I Live A Hard Life

Hi hi hi!

So the last I left off, I was on a bit of a personal high due to all the love I had just been showered with from Flaca and Vincenzo. As I said, the two of them are angels…little wonders that came into my life and have made my experience here in Milan an infinitely better one. Undoubtedly, I went to sleep knowing that I’d wake up in a good mood.

Tuesday 03/09: If any of you recall, Tuesdays are my favorite days of the week. Mornings are open for sleeping in, getting work done, having a leisurely breakfast, and all that good stuff in between. It was an especially good day for a Tuesday because it was snowing. Yes, snowing. We just had gorgeous sunshine and now snow. Milan you make no sense sometimes.

Anyway, I had lounged the good portion of the morning until I realized that I needed to get myself up and ready to meet my friend Katie. For those that read my last post, Katie is the girl I met on the plane to and from Amsterdam. We met, fell in like with each other, and decided traveling plans were in need of making. So we aimed for this weekend and before you know it, we were trying to plan a trip to Genoa, Florence, Pisa, and a little town called Lucca, which she has exclaimed was her favorite little town in Italy.

I met up with Katie at the Duomo and we found a cute little café to sit and discuss our plans for the weekend. We came up with this little itinerary: Friday morning head out to Genoa then leave early evening to get to Florence. Dinner in Florence followed by all Saturday in the gorgeous city. Sunday morning we pack up, head to Lucca for lunch and walking around before leaving for Pisa for some pictures with the Leaning Tower. And then it is right back to Milan. Being the organized peops that we are, we put together all the train times and agreed to meet the following day to purchase tickets.

I left her and made my way to class, only to be bored out of my mind, per usual. I don’t know what it is about Bocconi but the classes have this tendency to make you want to bash your head into the table. The teachers ramble in their so-so English and tend to go off on tangents, often leading me to contemplate self-strangulation in the back of the room.

Once class had ended, I finished up a bit of work and then made my way back to the apartment. I took a quick nap and then ran to La Standa for a few things to make some dinner with. See I had originally been invited to an aperitivo in celebration of my birthday with Stefano and his friend, Gianmarco. When I called to confirm the timing, Gianmarco broke the bad news that Stefano had arrangements now to watch the soccer game. Apparently, soccer is a lot cooler than birthdays. So he said that we would have to reschedule. I wasn’t crying over it. Downtown sounded nice right about now.

The rest of the night was spent…in a not so wonderful situation. Long story that I’ll refrain from sharing. But in life shit arises and we must deal with it, right? I reminded myself that the morning would present itself with a new day.

Wednesday 03/10: Just a regular Wednesday with Comparative Business Law at 10:30 am and then Organizational Networks and Entrepreneurship at 12:30 pm. After classes were over, Max invited me to have lunch with him, David, and a few of their friends. The two girls were freshman and from out of the country but attending the school full time. Then there was this French guy, who apparently remembered seeing me every time I take the 15 Tram. He said that he always remembered seeing my “sparkling blue eyes.” Classically French comment. Before I knew it an hour or so had passed and I needed to head home. I sort of forgot this thing called my wallet and thus hadn’t been able to buy lunch. I was ravenous and needed food pronto.

When I got home, I whipped up a little lunch. As soon as I was finished, it was onto dealing with apartment issues. For those who are just joining (shame because you should have caught up by now!), my apartment set up is a rather interesting one. We essentially rent a small part of the flat that our landlord lives in. She owns the entire 7th floor of a building and her place spans the distance of the complex. Because we are technically living in her house, there are only doors that separate our living spaces. We have a knocking system to communicate back and forth between our “units.” Well on this particular day, Anna (the landlady) had shoved a note under the door to tell us rent was due. Along with the rent breakdown, she also included the couple other expenditures we have to pay for, one of which is for her maid, Suzanna. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to have a maid but wouldn’t you think that if you were paying for a maid she would clean? Yeah not in Italy…or at least not in our Italian living situation Suazanna does nothing. Stick a Swiffer in her hand for five minutes and bam, that’s the extent of her work. Our bill was 90 Euro. 90 Euro for swiffer sweeping? I don’t think so. Ava was not pleased by any means because we had originally been under the impression that Suzanna was included in the additional 100 we pay each month. Guess that was a false illusion.

I was nominated the handler of the situation because Ana only speaks a bit of English but not the best. I’ve been working on my Italian enough that she and I could converse clearly over the issue. By the end of it all, we had managed to get a number of things figured out. Phew.

After those fun times, I ran a few errands before deciding that my hair needed to be a smidge shorter. You all know how picky I am about my hair and if it’s a little too long, you know I am going to get it fixed. I walked over to the salon (no longer than a 10 minute walk) to see my newly beloved stylist, Mirko. He was a doll about it and told me that he thought it could use a little something “extra” as well, so I let him go to work. Hair looks great.

I ran home quickly to get changed and ready for dinner. I had plans with my Portuguese girlies. They had wanted to celebrate my birthday at some point and sushi was the pick of cuisine. Alex, their Greek roommate, had actually never eaten sushi before. As you can imagine, it was a bigger night for her than it was for me. We met up at a nice little restaurant near the Duomo at which I had booked reservations. The food delivered well and Alex was sufficiently satisfied with her first affair with sushi. If her relationship with it is anything like mine, she’s bound to fall pretty hard.

The night only got better with the surprise of a birthday present. Being the incredibly thoughtful girls that they are, they had gone shopping early in the day to find something I’d like. I was too excited and so flattered that they deemed it necessary to buy me a birthday present. This was the first one I received!!! The present was a total success and I loved the perfectly wearable black clutch they picked out.

The night wouldn’t have been an A+ unless we topped it off with some gelato. We made our way from the Duomo down to Porta Ticenese where one of my favorite homemade gelaterias is located. The girls, who had both eaten gelato earlier on in the day, opted for hot crepes filled with Nutella. Gelato was my pick, obviously.

We hugged and kissed goodbye before I made my way down the side streets to find home. I climbed up the steps, hopped inside, immediately changed my clothes, and sunk right into bed. These eyes were tired and dreamland was calling my name.

Thursday 03/11: This morning we had our joyous last Permit of Stay meeting. Ava, Blakeney, and I got up early and headed to the police station only to find out that our paperwork wasn’t ready yet. Another great move by the Italian Police station…NOT!

The girls came home and got right back into bed. I ate breakfast and worked on my computer until I found myself with heavy eyelids and opted for my cozy makeshift couch bed. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep and waking up past class time. Oops! We can’t be perfect now can we? I did, however, make my Business Law Class, but not before heading to the train station with Katie to buy our tickets for the weekend.

After class, I walked to the nearest grocery store from Bocconi to pick up a few things that I might need for the apartment when I got home. Grocery stores are usually closed on Sundays so I needed to think ahead of schedule. Once that was taken care of, I was in need of packing.

I finished getting things done, showered, and climbed into bed just as the girls were making their way out to the clubs. Mind you it was 1 AM. Best part? Around 5:45 AM the girls roll in. I had scheduled to get up at 6 AM so I considered them the perfect alarm clock.

Friday 03/12: So the girls come in and manage to help wake me up. From then on it was prepping to get out of the apartment and make it to my train on time. I still had some last minute packing and cleaning up to do before I left but it was of no issue. I grabbed a quick bite to eat before bouncing out the door and making my way to Centrale to meet Katie.

While on the subway, I come to find out that there will be a public transportation strike within the next hour. Really Milan? Why do you need to have a public transport strike? Oh that’s right, you don’t. Luckily for us, our train was leaving right before the expected commencement of such shenanigans. Guess you reap benefits from waking up at the crack of dawn

Our first destination was Genoa, a beautiful port city on the coast of Western Italy. For those of you who know and love Italian food, the beloved Pesto Genovese comes from this wonderful little city. You can bet I was on a search for the best pesto I could find.

When we arrived to Genoa, the sun was shining and skies were blue. There had been word that rainy skies might be overhead but apparently the weatherman changed up his mind and decided to grant us with beautiful weather. It was one of those absolutely perfect days for walking around and so that’s exactly what we did. Genoa is made up of two major parts to the city: The New Town and the Old Town. The Old Town is reminiscent of classic Italy: splashes of bright colors on walls, cobblestones and epic mazes of tiny streets. I loved it. The New Town has a little more going on, with bigger streets, tons of shopping, large fountains, and impressive buildings. The two balanced each other well.

But as I said, Genoa is a port city and it features a magnificent little harbor. Katie and I were most excited about seeing the water for the first time since entering Italy so we aimed for finding it ASAP. Once we did, contentment sank in. We had been walking around for a few hours by now and were starving so we set out on a hunt for pesto finding. Unfortunately, we couldn’t seem to find any delicious looking restaurants near the water. That was, until we met a group of fisherman. I had asked one of them to take a picture of us, which turned into one of them taking a picture of us with the rest of them. After doing our epic photo shoot, I picked the man’s brain about restaurants. His first attempt at a recommendation was a place just around the corner. I asked him if it was really good. He said it was “okay.” I clarified my request. In Italian I said, “Sir, we don’t want so-so food…we want downright, classic Genovese food and we aren’t having anything else.” He got the point and suggested his favorite restaurant just a few streets away. He told us that we MUST order the Trofie di Pesto. Katie and I were in.

We found ourselves in front of a tightly tucked restaurant hidden behind larger streets and bigger buildings. We walked in and within seconds had fallen in love with its quaint, classic feel. We were seated immediately and the next thing we know, there is a giant blackboard on our table with a menu written in Genovese dialect. Reading was a problem. One of the waiters recognized that we were American and quickly came to assist. He spoke to us in English but I’ve made it a vow to speak as much Italian as possible so I responded in his language. We chatted back and forth only to find out that the restaurant is actually one of the best in the city and has been written about in World Traveler Magazine. Our waiter was part-time owner with his father and proudly presented us with the latest edition of World Traveler to show us the feature on the restaurant. The article was greatly written and described the restaurant just as it was. Perfect.

As instructed, we ordered the Trofie di Pesto. It. Was. Heaven. I can say with all honesty that I have never in my life tasted better pesto. The flavor, the consistency, the everything about it matched my expectations and succeeded them. The pasta was homemade and bursting with flavor and I could do nothing but sit in silence.

After lunch, Katie and I had wanted to visit the old lighthouse on the very opposite side of the port. It took us about 45 minutes to walk there but the weather outside was so beautiful and the wind against our faces was so pleasant that time was of a distant thought.

The lighthouse was set atop a steep little hill that overlooked the ocean. Once we reached the top, we just sat, gazing out onto sparkling waters and golden beams of light dancing along the rippling waves. It was a slap in the face of fresh ocean breeze. That fresh, body-consuming scent is unlike any other. It immediately reminded me of home. Days at our summer beach house, sitting on the upstairs porch while downstairs Mom and Lyn were defining what being it means to be a good cook. I missed home in that moment.

Katie and I ventured back to the train station but not before grabbing some gelato for the road. I’ve decided that you can’t go to any Italian city without eating gelato otherwise you might as well be breaking Italian law.

The train was absolutely disgusting. The seats were dripping with memories of dirty people who had sat in them before me. I refused to lean my head back. Not to mention there were these two kids in our car that kept jumping around and kicking their feet all over the place. To avoid the disgust of this sweat stained car and the rambunctious behavior of child 1 and child 2, I popped up my hood and dosed off.

Before I knew it, we were getting close to our second destination: Florence. That’s right, the classic city of Firenze. It had been ages since I had been my first time so I was more than excited to have the opportunity to revel in its beauty once more.

When we arrived to the train station, Katie and I immediately jumped off and attempted to find our hotel. Katie, being so brilliant and on top of things as she was, booked a hotel 5 minutes walking distance from the station. It makes a hell of a lot more sense to be right near a train station when you have early morning train rides, as we did.

We managed to roam around a little before looking up to the pleasant surprise of our hotel sign. When we came to the front desk to check in, it seemed as if our reservation had never been faxed to the hotel by our booking website. Uh oh. There were no more double rooms with a shared bathroom. Luckily, the woman was very helpful and offered to give us a double bedroom with a private bathroom for the same price. Umm, yeah I will happily take my own shower and toilet over the one I’d be using with the ponytail-wearing, wife beater sporting, hairy-chested guy who was down the hall.

In addition to the crazy room situation, I come to find out that this woman happens to know a girl at Bocconi. The conversation had been brought up because she asked for our reason of visit to Florence. I explained that we were American students studying in Milan at Bocconi. With a flood of excitement she asked if I knew a girl named Denise Gonzales. Well yes, yes I do. Denise and I had been in the same crash language course and she had met my buddy Joe at some point during her time in Milan. Turns out that this woman is like her grandma and has known Denise’s parents since they were children. I swear it is such a small world.

We checked into our room and threw our stuff down before turning right back around to find dinner. One of my closest family friends, Chelsea, studied in Florence in the fall of last year. She has highly recommended a restaurant by the name of Il Gatto E La Volpe. When I had picked her brain about what her perfect day in the city would be like, Il Gatto was included. I imagined it had to be pretty good then. Katie also knew a guy named Dan who was studying in Florence this semester and had also suggested we go to Il Gatto. So it was settled, we were going.

We made our way through the streets of Florence, crossing the path of the Duomo as we did, to stumble across a filled restaurant. We were seated right next to a giant group of college students, who…let’s just say were having quite a good time.

The vibe of the restaurant was homey and comfortable with friendly waiters and delicious smelling food. We had been demanded by both Chelsea and Dan to order the buffalo mozzarella appetizer and to pretty much drink spoonfuls of their homemade balsamic vinegar. I followed directions. The mozzarella ball was the size of a baseball but that didn’t stop Katie and I from going to town. The soft, perfectly milky consistency paired with fresh cherry tomatoes, homemade baked bread, and unreal balsamic made for an epically delicious starter. I wasn’t even sure that dinner could top it. Oh was I wrong.

The menu was a bit overwhelming with too many things to pick from. Sometimes you just need a few less options and it makes life a little easier to pick that perfect dish. All the pastas looked good but seeing I had just eaten pasta for lunch, it wasn’t exactly calling out to me. Chicken, on the other hand, was. The dinner was incredible and I ate every last bite on my plate, using bread to soak up the last of the sauce.

While the food had been excellent, it was the company that really made the night so much fun. As I said, there was a rowdy group of boys (with a few girls) celebrating someone’s birthday. I got to talking with one of the guys and ended up making friends with the table. The table was, well, hammered and it was hilarious to hear them go on ranting about God knows what. When it came time for cake, they were singing at the top of their lungs and clinking to what was probably their 10th glass of wine. Oh and I cant forget the limoncello shots that followed after. They offered me one but I handed it to Katie and told her to go for out.

Perfectly content, Katie and I made our way back to the hotel. I showered and climbed into bed, exhausted from the day and anxious for tomorrow.

Saturday 03/13: The morning started with the warming sound of my alarm clock. Joy. I was up and ready to go in no time, though, because…well…I was in Florence, duh! Katie and I got ready to go and headed out to have some breakfast. Correction: to have what was supposed to be breakfast. Apparently a “Continental Breakfast” at this hotel means tea and really crispy bread and that was all. If you know me well, you know I was dying. So I opted for a quick stop into the grocery store to grab 2 yogurts, a banana, and an apple. I ate them all immediately.

From there, Katie and I had planned on going to L’Academia to see the David. He apparently received a bath 2 years ago and was looking squeaky clean for our arrival. Too bad we found ourselves majorly distracted by a street market and took a little detour in our day itinerary. It was a danger zone but we entered at our own risk.

The street fairs in Florence are what I remember so vividly about my first experience there. Tons of little stands lined with everything from a rainbow of colored pashminas to fine Italian leather. Men and women call out to you in hopes of snagging your attention and making, what to them, is a precious sale. You hear the countless, “Ciao Bella!” I have something for you” and the “I will give you something almost for free” but the trick is to be savvy with your negotiating skills and never give in too quickly.

Our hunt for treasure started when Katie realized that she had forgotten her sunglasses at the hotel. It was an absolutely gorgeous day seeing that Mr. Sun had so kindly graced us with his presence. I’m always excited to see him. As you can imagine, a pair of sunglasses were a thing of need…or so we convinced ourselves. I had been dying to get a pair of classic dark aviators so I was down to do a little 2-for-a-better-rate deal. We found a little stand, tried on a few pairs, and both found “the pair.” The man tried to ask for 8 each and I said 5 each. He said 7 each. I said 5 each. He said 6 each. I said 5 each. We got them for 5 each. I should’ve started with 4 Euro but hey, beggars can’t be choosy.

From the sunglass stand, I was immediately drawn to a colorful array of scarves beautifully draped on a nearby stand. I always recall coming to Italy and watching my mom stock up on interesting new colors of pashminas. She says, “You can never have enough!” I couldn’t agree more. I pretty much wanted to buy all the colors I didn’t own but refrained from being crazy and only purchased one. It was tough but I did it. Dutch blue was my choice. Perfectly suitable for someone with blue eyes. Katie found a gorgeous salmon color that made her cheeks popped. It was a no brainer.

As we left the cute woman who had sold us our scarves, I turned around to discover Il Mercato Central. Chelsea had told me ALL about it and said it was a “must see” during my day in Florence. It’s an indoor market that is filled with numerous food vendors. You have the fish guys, the butchers, the poultry people, the produce experts, the olive oil and vinegar specialists, and my favorite, the dried fruit and nut stop. Chelsea had mentioned there was an old man with longish grey hair that had EVERY dried fruit you could possible think of. When she shared that tidbit of information, I was adamant, and I mean adamant, about finding him. She had told me I could find his little booth upstairs but when I went into the market, the upstairs was closed!!! I was nervous but hadn’t given up hope. I walked around the entire first floor. During my tour of this enchanting market, I came across a funny old fisherman who was working at one of the fish booths. I wanted to take a picture of his stand and before I know it, he has a crab in his hand and is posing for the picture. It was hands down the best photo shoot ever. We continued to walk around for a good hour but still no sign of my man. Just as I was just getting to that point of discouragement, I see an old man, grey hair, surrounded by colors of dried fruit and browns of freshly shelled nuts. Heaven here I come.

The man was adorable and I explained to him how I had heard about his products. He was delighted! He let me try all the fruit I wanted and then proceeded to fill up little bags with all my likings. Sour cherries, fresh cranberries, sweet raspberries, organic strawberries, soft apricots, yummy white peach and pear, and a handful of blueberries. All dried and all perfectly delicious. I ended up spending a whopping 12 Euro on all that dried fruit but I voted it the most worthwhile purchase since arriving in Europe.

Katie and I left the market feeling quite content about our recent purchases. We passed a few product-adorned tents before being confronted by a rather loud and in-your-face Italian man. He was selling leather and grabbed our attention by yelling, “Hey baby! Get that blonde hair over here! You know you want to see what I have for you…” Smooth mister, real smooth. We walked over and he immediately handed me a leather jacket, which I actually quite liked. It was a rich chocolate brown with the addition of a hood. He made me try it on and then raved about how perfect it was for me. He then decided I might want one size bigger because the length was a bit too short and he felt he could match me with a coat “just right.” Before I know it, he has grabbed my hand and has me following him to his store. All the while he is calling me his “California baby” and trying to convince me of how much I need this gorgeous jacket to steal the boys hearts. Okay sure.

We get to the store and he hands me the right size, slips it over my long arms, and gives me a look as if to say, “That’s the one. You’re gone for.” There was no doubt it was absolutely beautiful. All leather has a different coloration and feel and both qualities on this particular jacket were wonderful. I was taking a particular liking to it but had still not been given a price. I had asked about…oh, 10 million times but he just kept saying, “Almost free sexy, almost free.” Okay well free in America means $0 so if the English you are speaking is the same as mine, then we just might have a deal. Finally he tells me that he is going to cut me a great price because a) he likes me, b) I can speak Italian, c) he thinks the jacket is perfect for me, and d) he thought I was nice looking. The original price was 380, or so he claimed, and he was giving it to me for 180. I said no way.

Soon enough, the owner of the store, a spunky, Italian woman, waltzes in. She immediately grabs my cheeks and starts speaking to me in Italian. She was quite enamored with my ability to answer back and understand most of what she was saying. She talked to me for quite some time about all sorts of things but mostly about how I needed to recognize what an incredible find this coat. There was no doubt I loved it but I needed to think about it. No one just jumps on a 180 Euro jacket without looking at what else is out there. When I told them I wanted some time to think on it, they tried to convince me to just buy it then and there for an offer of 150. I said no. After trying to sway me to stay for a good 10 minutes, the guy says how about 130 Euro. It was a great deal but I still wanted time to think and see what else I could find. I promised that I would come back. They looked worried.

Katie and I split up so that she could get some coffee and so that I could look at what other leather goods might sway me from coat #1. Nothing was doing it for me. I did, however, meet one guy who asked me how much the first guy had offered me for the jacket. At first I ignored him and told him not to worry about it. When I came back around his way, he asked me again and I told him. He asked how much I wanted to pay and I said ideally 100 Euro. He said he could make it happen. The guy was quite nice actually and explained that he knew the woman and could try to sell it to me through her. We made our way to the shop.

The woman was pleased to see me back but confused as to why I was there with a different salesman. The guy I was with explained to her what I was willing to pay and she said she couldn’t sell this particular coat for that little money due to its particular style (which I hadn’t been able to find elsewhere) and the quality of the leather. She said she would go to 120. I said I would do 110. She agreed at 115. It was a deal. I paid in cash; she kissed me on both cheeks, told me I was a gem and sent me on my way.

From there I went to find Katie. As I did so, a number of the vendors kept asking me what I bought and how much I paid. I told them. They asked to see the coat, upon which they all said, “Wow you got a great deal.” I was feeling quite good and I knew my Dad, the king of leather jackets, would have been damn proud.

Katie wad dying and needed to get out of the market. She had had enough…or so she claimed. Within a matter of minutes, we are in a leather bag store and she has fallen in love with a particular brown leather clutch. It was great, no question, so I told her to reason with the guy and buy it. She did and that was that.

From the market, we agreed to get the heck out of all shopping vicinities. We were going to make our way to The David and there was no stopping us. Well, not exactly. We spotted a cute park on our way and sat down for some R&R in the sun. Across from us were these two funny guys smoking cigarettes that kindly agreed to take a picture for me. When they handed back my camera, they asked if I would take a picture of them. I look up and they are in posed position ready for a close up. Classic.

As we got up to leave the park, Katie and I looked at each other and agreed that lunch was in need before any museum hunting. Chelsea had told me that if she were to come back to Florence for one day that she would eat at a sandwich place called The Oil Shoppe. I located the address and we made our way to find it, only to discover that it is closed on the weekends! NOO! Thank goodness she had given me a second favorite of hers, which I desperately hoped would be open. It was! This place, called I Fratelli, was a tiny little whole in the wall sandwich shop. It was seriously popular…I am talking a line of a good 15-18 people. Luckily it went quickly and soon enough, I was standing at the counter ordering a fresh-to-made panino. I ignored the menu options and asked for turkey, grilled veggies, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, basil, and goat cheese. It was unreal. Best part? Only 3 euro.

After our stomachs were happy and full, Katie and I finally found our David. He was just as beautiful as I remembered. It’s truly baffling how someone could have been so talented with their hands to shape such an impressive figure of the human body all out of stone. The precision is so spot on that you can actually see the veins portrayed in his forearm. It’s absolutely amazing.

The rest of L’Academia isn’t much to see so we spent a little time looking at other things before heading out. Chelsea had told me about an AMAZING gelateria right next door. We found it and ordered. I was a little disappointed, though, because I had expected it to be much better. I guess I’m still in love with my Grom.

With gelato in our hands, Katie and I took off to roam the rest of the city. We wandered in and out of little streets, admired the Duomo, saw the Uffizi, and then headed towards Piazza Michelangelo. Usually when you come to Florence, you are told to walk to the top of the Duomo to see a view of the entire city. Dan, Katie’s best friend in Florence, recommended, however, that we walk to the top of a hill to see an even more spectacular view of the city, including il Ponte Vecchio and the Arno river.

The hike upward was well worth it. The view was breathtaking. In one direction you had all of Florence and the other, classic Tuscan skies and pasture. Katie and I sat there on the steps, letting the sun spill down on us. Crowds formed along the steps and soon enough a live band (American oddly enough) started to play. It was absolutely perfect. The sun was setting and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

It started to get a bit chilly and the band was wrapping up their set. I wanted to make friends with them so Katie and I went to introduce ourselves. The lead singer was from America and had lived in San Diego at one point during his life. The rest of his time was spent moving from place to place, seeing the world, and just exploring. He had been in Florence for 6 years and his two band mates were Macedonian, one being half Canadian as well. They were a cool group of guys.

Katie and I made our way down the steep hill and over to the Ponte Vecchio to walk across, just for the sake of walking across it. It was about 07:30 pm at this point and we needed to start heading back to the apartment in order to get ready for the most anticipated dinner in Europe thus far.

We had made reservations at a restaurant called Acqua al Due. First question, so why such a special place? See, there exist two Acqua Al Dues in the world: one in San Diego and one in Florence. The main owner was born in Florence absolutely loves the city of Saa Diego. How can you blame him? So when he opened up his restaurant, he decided that he would make one in each of his beloved cities. You better believe that I’ve been to Acqua Al Due many a time in San Diego…probably a few too many to count. It wins the award for most favorite restaurant. The food is amazing (the best you’ll ever have), the people are nice, and it’s in the heart of downtown. What more could you ask for?

Our reservation was for 09:00 pm and we arrived just in time. We walked in the door to find every table filled with people and waiters running around left and right. The place was busy. I made my way to the hostess and checked in for our reservation. Next to my name said “Special guess.” I’m assuming it had something to do with the fact I had told them over the phone that I was from San Diego and that this was my first visit to their Florence location. The owner was apparently excited.

One of the owners, a beautiful lively woman, seated us right away and quickly brought the table some freshly baked bread and an indescribable white bean dip. Katie wanted to order the house wine and asked me if I would have a glass with her. Their house wine was well recommended and so I agreed to have a small glass with dinner. Based on our orders and what my dad has taught me about the world of wine, I figured that it would accoutrement the food famously.

So, onto the food. Acqua is known for what are called their “sampler” plates. Everything on their menu is absolutely unreal so they offer samplers in order to try smaller portions of their best dishes. We started off by ordering the salad sampler. It featured a delicious fennel, dried cranberry, Parmesan, and apple salad, classic caprese, and what appeared as either a Greek or house salad with homemade dressing. Let’s just say we cleaned our paltes. Next we ordered the pasta sampler, which goes down without a doubt as one of my favorite things to order in any restaurant I have ever been. Essentially, the chef chooses 5 of the many pasta dishes on the menu and whips up a sampling. Not only do you get something different every time you order, but other people in the restaurant also receive different pastas. It’s a phenomenal concept. Round 1 comes out and it’s a shell pasta in some sort of pink sauce, steaming hot and bursting with flavor. Next comes a bowtie pasta in a vodka sauce with pancetta. While usually I am not a fan of vodka sauce, this particular make was exceptionally well done. Third was a spiral pasta in a spinach puree. Incredible. The fourth was my favorite and is always a beloved favorite of mine each time it gets into my sampler. Classic rigatoni in an eggplant ragu. To die for. The 5th and final pasta was a homemade gnocchi in a dark red sauce with vegetables. Everything was perfect.

Our main order was the steak. Acqua is quite famous for their two filets. One is cooked and covered in a balsamic reduction glaze while the other is in a blueberry reduction. Both are fantastic beyond words so you can imagine the predicament of which to choose. Well what did we do? We ordered both, duh. I asked the owner if she could cut the filets in half and do a small piece for each of us. She said, “Of course!” The woman was an absolute doll and treated us like royalty, constantly coming over to check our table or to ensure that our meal was just as I had hoped. She even brought us extra wine, which I handed right on over to Katie.

Katie is a vegetarian but had decided upon her arrival to Europe that she would probably eat meat in order to get decent protein. Tonight marked her first steak back in who knows how long. She was definitely a bit nervous. I assured her that if there was one way to jump back into the meat game, this was the way to do it. When the steaks came out, they were steaming with heat and resonating a scent beggaring description. I savored every last bite, using my bread to clear the remnants of any precious sauce left on my plate. Katie concurred that it was the most delicious thing she’d ever had.

I sat at the table, ready to burst but filled with pure bliss. Katie had been eyeing the homemade tiramisu since we had walked in the door so we called the owner over to put in the order. Unfortunately, she bared bad news and explained it had just run out. Katie opted for the house chocolate cake covered in a raspberry puree instead. As she was about half way through, I spotted a man carrying a giant bowl. Tiramisu? I voted yes. I called the owner over and asked if tiramisu was now an option. She said that they had just made a fresh batch. Feeling badly that the first order hadn’t come to fruition, she insisted on bringing a free order.

Two seconds later she ran back and asked me if I would do her a HUGE favor. I said, “Absolutely, anything!” She asked if we could move to a smaller table because she had a table of 5 coming in and needed to seat them in at our table. Not a problem! I had her seat us elsewhere and she kissed me all over my cheeks, thanking me for the cooperation.

Within a flash, she was back with fresh tiramisu, 2 flutes of Grapa (which became Katie’s) and 2 Acqua al Due hats. So sweet of her! I had a bite of the tiramisu but that was all for me. The dessert was delightful but what made it so much nicer were our new neighbors. The relationship started when I asked the girl next to me if she would take a picture of the two of us. She and her best friend were having dinner together but immediately jumped into conversation and wanted to know x, y, and z about us. The two of them were so full of life and quite drunk so you can only imagine how fun they were to talk to. But things got even better when the time came and they asked for our names. Katie and I both laughed and said, “Well Katie and Katie.” They respond by cracking up only to turn to us and say, “We’re both Francesca!!!” No way. What are the odds that of all the people we could have met and started conversation with that they, too, have identical names! Just too good to be true.

As dinner started to wrap up (it had been a good 3 hours by now), I said my goodbyes to the owner, gave her a big hug and kiss on the cheek and thanked her for the impeccable hospitality. It was en evening I would never forget.

Sunday 03/14: Katie and I had an early train ride to Lucca. Luckily we were right near the train station so it wasn’t too much of a hassle to get there on time. Fortunately we were early and managed to grab seats before the mob arrived. The train turned out to get crazy crowded with what looked like a bunch of students. Every which way you looked, kids were standing, talking, laughing and there was the random guy playing the guitar. It was a loud ride to say the least.

We arrived in Lucca around 10:30 am. As I had mentioned before, Katie had spent two weeks one summer with her best friend’s aunt and uncle in Lucca. It’s a quaint, classic Tuscan town that is famous for the old wall that wraps around it. There isn’t much to see but that’s the enjoyable nature of it.

Katie was especially exited to go back to a little tile and ceramics shop to see if she could find a few pieces to match the originals she had bought her parents during her stay that summer. Luckily it was open! All the other stores were closed but the one we were looking for just happened to be waiting for us. The gentleman who owned the place was such an angel and helped us with everything, including my Italian. He would correct me if my grammar was off and added to my diction. We spent a good 45 minutes in his store before each settling on a plethora of gifts. Let’s just say I have some treasures coming home with me for some very special people.

From the shop, we went to climb the tower, which overlooks the entire city. It was a beautiful day delivering us a breathtaking view. You will certainly have to check out my pictures once I post them.

Katie had rented a bike and wanted to circle around the wall. Being on feet and pressed for time, I said I would meet her afterward. I sat down in a cute little restaurant and ordered myself a delicious lunch of fresh salad, homemade Luccan soup, and nicely warmed bread. It was exactly what I needed to reboot. Katie met me when she was done but we were pushing it for time so we grabbed her food to go and booked it for the station.

As we were leaving, I spotted a gelateria that listed yogurt as one of their items. I rushed in. OMG yes! There was a frozen yogurt machine. I made sure to sample before ordering a large covered with fresh strawberries. European pinkberry at my fingertips.

We took a quick train and jumped to Pisa. Pisa wasn’t a very impressive city but all we’d really come to do was take pictures in front of the tower and see the Duomo. Check for both. After goofing around in front of the tower, we made our way back towards our baggage and the station. It was a long, long, long train ride back to Milan and all I wanted was a hot shower and bed.

As soon as I got home, I put my stuff down and got ready for a much-needed shower, only to find out that the hot water was out AGAIN. Are you kidding me?! This meant that I had to go back to caveman days and reenact my first attempt at a shower when the water had gone out. This meant boiling a giant pot of water and then bringing it into the shower to then use a cup as a wetting device. It was an interesting experience but I didn’t care. My hair was dirty and I felt gross from the train so if that meant sucking it up and squatting in the shower with a pot of hot water, so be it.

I was clean and now exhausted. I hopped into bed and set my alarm for the 7:30 am wake-up call I’d need to get to class on time. I wasn’t phased…the weekend had been too good. Not even no hot water was bringing me down.

Monday 03/15: I was a little late to class but managed to get there within 5 minutes of start time. Thank goodness today’s lecture was interesting…I’ve had enough of hating my life at school.

After class, I was in major need of grocery shopping so I made my way back home to the apartment and then to La Standa, which for some reason is now known as BILLA. I came home, unpacked my groceries, made lunch, and was right back to school again. This time class was B.O.R.I.N.G. I don’t know how my teacher does it, but she progressively gets more and more horrible every lecture.

I’m starting to get a little freaked out about school, to be honest. I haven’t been following along with my reading materials, as I should be. There is so much to be done here and I’ve been traveling nonstop that I haven’t been as dedicated to my schoolwork. It’s a bit worrisome that I can be so dismissive of school, when usually I’m so diligent. Oh well! I’m only here once.

Woah, back up a second. I completely forgot to tell you about the BEST part of my day. Yours truly chipped her tooth. Yup, that’s right. Two baby chips on my right front tooth. It was nothing major but I was a mess over it. I have never chipped a tooth and while no one would really notice unless you were up in my face, one of the chips was lateral and needed to be fixed. I immediately emailed every person I could possibly think of. Both the people I know in Milan, students from Bocconi who studied at USC last semester, the International Student Desk, the head of the international students from USC, and a woman I know in San Diego who was born and raised in Milan. I figured that someone out of the group might be able to help me. Luckily Monica, the woman in San Diego, responded pretty promptly and gave me the recommendation for a doctor she claimed was the absolute best in Milan. Dr. Brachetti had a private practice in Milan, used to work in Los Angeles for 7 years, speaks fluent English, and is well known for being a good oral surgeon. I immediately went online, Googled him, found his email, and sent an urgent message out right away.

I spent the rest of the day in a rather quiet mood. There was no denying that I was pretty upset and sometimes we just need to take a step back from the world. I talked to my Aunt Mel, though, which always comes through as the perfect pick me. Seeing that I have no privacy in my apartment, I walked up the tiny stairs to the rooftop and let the sun kiss my face while I listened to her calming voice. Since I know you’re reading this, I love you so much Aunt Mel. You are an absolute blessing in my life and I can’t thank you enough for being my second mom!

After I got off the phone, I hopped onto my computer to get on top of my traveling plans for the weekend. See last Wednesday when Carolina and I went for sushi, she invited me to Rome with her best friend, Maria, who was visiting from Portugal. Maria has an ex boyfriend in Rome and he was letting us stay in his apartment. He’s also an apparently great cook and would be hosting meals at home. I was so on board for going. Now it was just about finding transportation. I looked everywhere online to find good flights because the fast trains to Rome are generally pretty expensive. I couldn’t find a thing. The only option we were looking at was an 8-hour train ride that left at 10 am on Thursday and a 9-hour ride home that left Sunday at midnight. Hmmm, how about not?

I wasn’t discouraged, though. I did some serious research and discovered that the Italian fast train, which usually costs 89 euro each way, was on special for 48. After checking some 30+ different departure and arrival times, I finally found one going and one returning train with available seats. YES!!! I talked to the girls and they were all about it so I went to book the tickets for all three of us. Enter credit card fail. The credit card system wasn’t working and despite my countless efforts, everything was being denied. I called my credit card company and tried to see what they could do but they assured me it had nothing to do with the card. All the while I been trying to call my mom (probably about a million times), who of course didn’t have her phone on her. Typical Laura Wile. I did find out that she had been at the tax office, so she was excused. :) Love you mom!

So anyway, the tickets couldn’t be bought, I was drained from trying for the past 3 and a half hours and still upset about my stupid tooth so I took a shower and climbed into bed. Tuesday was waiting and I love Tuesdays.

Tuesday 03/16: On this particular Tuesday, for some reason I woke up early and checked my phone. Dr. Brachetti had sent me an email back! Thank the Lord. Oh but wait…today was his LAST day in the office for 3 months! He was having surgery on his shoulder and would be out of commission for the entire span of time. This meant that I had a VERY small window to have him fix my tooth. I called the second I read the message. He explained that if possible, I could come down for a preliminary check up. I scurried to get ready and ran out of the house as quickly as possible. I wasn’t about to miss my chance.

I made it to the office and shortly after he met with me to check things out. He assured me it was not as bad as I had thought but that both chips should most definitely be fixed. Yes, good answer Dr. Brachetti. He took a mold and said that while it usually takes about a week or two to have the molds imprinted, that he would have the lab process them immediately so we could fix the tooth that day. He scheduled me for a 4 pm procedure. I did have class but I said screw class, this is way more important. If I could manage to take care of this sort of an issue in a foreign country all in the span of 24 hours, you bet your life that I was going to and nothing, I mean nothing, was going to get in the way.

I thanked Dr. Brachetti as many times as I could before he convinced me it was absolutely nothing and sent me on my way. I had a bit of time to kill since the procedure wasn’t until 4 pm and I didn’t have a lunch arrangement until 1 pm. I jumped on the metro and headed to Centrale to see if I could work out my train ticket predicament. Luckily the line wasn’t long and I worked everything out with the ticket man. The seats were available and I snagged three as soon as he gave me the green light. Rome was officially booked.

From the station, I went back to San Babila in order to shop around before being on time for my hot little lunch date. Interestingly enough, Dr. Brachetti’s office and the meet-up location for lunch were within 5 minutes of each other. Perfectly convenient. So come 2 pm, I waited in front of the fountain at San Babila to meet my lovely lunch guest: the one and only Claudio. If you recall, Claudio is the adorable older gentleman I met at Fashion Week. He had invited me for lunch in order to catch up, find out all about me, or so he insisted, and to discuss “my future.”

As I looked around, I saw a sweet old man waving his hands. I was greeted with two warm kisses on the cheek and a large smile. Claudio laughed and said, “Finally I catch the traveling girl!” He’d been teasing me about how difficult it had been to get a hold of me lately seeing that the past few weekends in a row, I’ve been here, there, and everywhere. He insisted I don’t disappear to any of my foreign cities otherwise he’d have to shut down the train and airline system to keep me from getting away again.

As our afternoon continued, I couldn’t get over how absolutely delightful this man was. He kindly showered me with compliments, treated me to lunch, and made me laugh but more importantly, shared with me his past and life story. Claudio has worked in fashion for the majority of his life and was the first person to bring Guess Jeans from the United States to Europe! Can we all say impressive? The man knows it all and is so well versed in both business and fashion that I can only hope to be in a similar position one day. Despite living alone with no wife or children, he seems so perfectly content in the world he has built for himself. This brought us to discuss his point on love and commitment during which he told me that while love is magical, he couldn’t bring himself to make the vow of marriage before God for he felt he would be lying. It was a really interesting and enjoyable discussion. I think he likes the option of being free and changing his mind whenever he deems it necessary. I asked him if he was lonely at all to which he said, “at times, yes.” He grabbed my hand and said, “But I hope that I can share you for as long as you are here.” I assured him that ANY time he wanted to share dinner or lunch or especially gelato, I would happily oblige. He touched my cheeks and said, “Bella, you are my very special little princess!” Italian old men are the greatest, I tell you.

After a delicious lunch filled with laughs and great stories, I was ready for a gelato...obviously. I asked him if he’d ever had Grom, to which he looked at me like I was crazy. Claudio said he was taking me somewhere infinitesimally better. Better than Grom? You know I’m there. We walked a block or so before finding a beautifully adorned pasticerria crowded with people. The gelato looked to. die. for. They had every flavor I could have asked for and Cladio assured me that they made all of their own gelato fresh every morning. Perfection. I ordered a medium cone and pretty much died and went to heaven. The flavors tasted just like the real thing. It goes without saying that Claudio’s little gem of a gelateria was the best I’d had since arriving to Italy. I’m guessing I’ll be a regular by the time I leave.

Claudio decided that he wasn’t ready for our lunch outing to end so we walked around with ice cream in our hands and sun in the sky. We discussed the potential for working in the city and his hopes to see me immerse into the fashion world. By the time he had to leave, I was excited for what was to come next.

Ten ‘til 4 pm, I arrived at the dentist’s office and waited patiently to be taken back for the procedure. It wasn’t too lengthy and while having your tooth repaired isn’t the most comfortable of things, when the mirror reflected my “old” mouth, I couldn’t remember any of the last 40 minutes. Dr. Brachetti had lived up to this reputation and surpassed it with flying colors. Let me not forget that he only charged me 60% of what the usual initial meeting and repair costs would have been. Not only did he fit me in on a busy last day of work but he also gave me a major discount. I’m going to nominate him as an angel. I insisted on bringing him a nice bottle of wine or taking him to dinner as a thank you for his immense amount of help and utter kindness. He insisted it was unnecessary but I beg to differ.

I left his office in an exceptionally good mood and made my way back to the apartment to grab my suitcase filled with laundry and get down to Arco for joyous laundry doing. In addition to washing dirty clothes, I was meeting with Brittany to finalize some of our Spring Break plans. We have been discussing traveling around Budapest, Switzerland, Prague, Vienna, and a few other places so we decided that Spring Break deemed a promising time to accomplish such aspirations. We managed to get a few things taken care of but it looks like a lot of our travels between countries will be by train. We were having issues with that minor detail. Let’s just hope the booking process gets a little easier.

While the laundry, trip planning, and running up and down the stairs to and from the laundry room 6 times were all great fun, the best part of the night was the homemade hummus that Brittany made. Hummus wins as one of my favorite things to eat but it doesn’t exist anywhere in Milan. Brittany had decided she would attempt her own batch. Props Brittany because it was delicious and we ate the entire Tupperware full of it. No big deal.

When it hit 11 pm, I was exhausted and desperate to go home so I bailed on the continuation of trip planning, headed for the tram, and made my way back to the apartment for much needed sleep.

Wednesday 03/17: When I woke up, the sun was peeking through the blinds and I could feel the warmth radiating from outside. Sun, was there really sun?! I pretty much died and went to heaven because for the first time, yes the first time, since I have been in Milan I only had to wear ONE pair of pants! Usually I have to layer my pants with a thick pair of tights in order to ensure my legs don’t freeze to death. But on this day of all days, I had the pleasure of slipping into my jeans tightless. I was flirting with the weather so heavily that I almost didn’t realize that I was running late to class. I ran up the stairs to Aula 202 to find a math class being taught in Italian. Hmmm, definitely didn’t sign up for this class. Apparently, my course room had been changed. Strike Bocconi. Sometimes I think that the people who manage this place are on serious crack. How do you ignor emailing your students to let them know that the classrooms change? I mean, come on now, this has happened countless number of times…probably every week sometimes twice a week. It’s infuriating to bust your butt to the class you believe is the right one only to find a random group of faces and a professor speaking a language you probably wouldn’t be able to understand business law in.

Bocconi hating did not stop there, however. My professor for Comparative Business Law, while brilliant, is an absolute tard when it comes to explaining things. She assigned us a group assignment but only yelled out our group member names in class (last name followed by first name). It was a giant jumbled mess of names being yelled out sounding a little something like this: “Wile, Katie…Santini, Gianmarco…Faletti, Francesca.” Super effective. Oh and only one person in the group gets the assignment handout and you have NO idea who the heck the people in your group even are so I’m not quite sure how that’s really supposed to work. On top of that, there are no emails attached to the names of your group members so how in the world are we supposed to be in communication? She didn’t bother to explain the directions for the exercise but did mention that it was worth a decent part of our grade and that for those who didn’t participate whole-heartedly, they would be receiving no credit. Thanks for nothing lady. I was so irritated by the time class ended that I didn’t even have the patience to ask her for clarification. Should be an interesting process to figure this one out.

I did some computer work during the 30 minutes before my next class. While Organizational Networks and Entrepreneurship is usually my most loathed class, the case study for the day was on Versace and I had actually read. It was quite interesting and I even opted to participate in front of the class by speaking about the main points she had wanted us to pick up on. Brownie points for sure. She likes people who are willing to “express their thoughts” so maybe that will do me some good when it comes to final grades.

After class, Max, who also shares this class with me, and I walked for a bit discussing the potential of my stay with him in Munich. His sister is coming to visit next weekend and I may drive back with them to stay in his house for a couple days while he shows me the city. I’m thinking it would be incredible.

I had to leave and head home in order to get a few errands run before I was off to Rome in the morning! First things first and that meant taking care of my Internet key. My first month was up starting tomorrow and I wanted to make sure that I could get wireless while on the train to and from Rome. Too bad when I finally got to the store, they told me I needed my Sim card. In otherwise, I had to turn right back around to go get it. Semi-annoying. Once the recharging process was finished, though, I was quite content.

I ran back to the apartment and needed to shower quickly so that I could dry my hair before heading out for dinner. I was meeting up with an Italian girl named Arianna, who knows Monica, the Milanese woman from San Diego. Monica had put me in contact with Arianna when I was looking for a salon to have my haircut. Ever since I first contacted her, the two of us have been chit chatting back and forth about x, y, and z. I figured the proper thing to do would be to finally meet face to face and have dinner. Oddly enough, she asked if I wanted to go to Trattoria Toscana, which if any of you remember is my FAVORITE restaurant! We made a reservation for 8 pm and set on finally meeting.

So funny story. I had been expecting Arianna to be a little older than she was. Monica had told me that Arianna worked in the fashion industry and was thinking about moving to San Diego to potentially do some work there. Monica is in her 30’s so I automatically assumed that she might be too. Yeah, no. Arianna is 24 years and young as young can be. Sweet from head to toe, was such a pleasure to spend time with. We swapped stories about San Diego and Milan seeing that I’m here and she’s headed there in a month. As ou can guess, dinner was shared over delicious food and amazing company only to be followed by an even better gelato at Grom. I think I may have eaten gelato every single day for the last week and a half…it’s only going to continue while I am in Rome. We only live once, right?

I jumped on home after dinner to clean up for bed and finish packing. I had to be up at the crack of dawn in order to get ready, eat breakfast, make sure I had everything I needed, and get to the train station by 7 am. Rome here I come.

So I’m sure you are all dying to hear about Rome and while I have tons of great reading material all about it, I realize this was a bit of a heavy load. I’ll do you all the favor of holding out until next post to keep you up to date on what went down in the capital of Italy.

Ciao, Ciao and lots of love always,
Me!