Final Thoughts Pictures

The lights in Centro are...


...so beautiful!


One cartwheel for the road.

Farewell Firenze!

Final Thoughts

Ciao Ciao,

So. I leave for LA in three days. The last few weeks in Florence have been a blur - basking in the Christmas fervor, gazing awestruck at the incredible lights hung all over the city, taking pictures so I can take the city back with me, drinking wine with friends - sometimes and sometimes not on the steps of the Duomo, finally seeing and falling in love with David, learning the art of cooking from an Italian chef (I know how to make meatballs the right way!), and trying so eagerly to figure myself out - "I don't want to go, but I'm ready to go, but I can't leave Florence, but I'm done with taking the bus, but nothing even compares to the Duomo, but I can at last kiss that foam mattress goodbye." This sort of flipping-flopping way of thinking is expected, I suppose. In my attempt to communicate my feelings, I've decided to look to my good friend, Sir Elton John. I've taken his words and made them my own.

The city’s got a thing about it, never fading with the sunset when the rain sets in. When we start we say forever, but the end has come before I knew it. So the world slows down to let me off. Ask me what it is that makes Italy so special, why it is so real to me – it has been a time I never can or shall erase. I don’t wish it away – I was captured by romantic things and now there’s a loveliness I’ve lost.

I packed my bag last night pre-flight. In all honesty, I’m speechless and don’t know where to start. I’ve got to wait till morning. I’ve only got one book to see me through my flight. When my plane descends, I will count the headlights on the highway, and thank the Lord there’s people out there like you – a home and a family that makes sense for me, a solid foundation built out of trust.

Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean – this is where I am. It’s enough for this wide-eyed wanderer that I got this far. Oh, and the bitch is back.

Thank you so much for your love and support and prayers and kind words. I'm sad to be leaving, but I am lucky that I get to go home to you.

Buon Natale e a Giovedi,

Genevieve Lorraine

Svizzera Pictures

The Christmas market in Bern.


Baskets, anyone?


Jenna was really thrilled to buy a knit cap from Switzerland. Once we were back in the hostel, she discovered it was made in Nepal.


Here, we sampled the most amazing caramels I've ever tasted. Ever. Those big copper pots held molten caramel that was poured into rectangular pans, cooled, and was sliced into .5 x .5 inch squares. They were still hot when ate them. See below.


Jenna and Meg enjoying our sweets.


For lunch, rather than sitting down for a costly meal, we decided to sample the traditional swiss food sold at the Christmas market - a sausage sandwich. Go figure. Three sandwiches please!


Ah yes, it is that time again, isn't it? You know, when the temperatures drop and hair moves north for the winter. I really have no idea what this is about, but you can bet I stayed clear of the cafe below.


I can't wait to see you guys! And Vincenzo!


Meg took this beautiful picture. She is such the photo-extraordinaire.


Nothin' like the rain in Bern.


(Look closely) I'm...


I love this picture of Meg. You can't really see her face, but you have to agree that she looks like she's up to no good. She kind of reminds me of a character from Lord of the Rings; I think it's the hood and her whispy hair.


Fondue night! This was put on by our hostel. For 20 Swiss Francs, we had unlimited wine, salad, bread, and fondue. I was a bit confused though - we asked for more salad and they said no.


It was Swiss, of course!


I woke up Saturday morning and, peeking through the red gingham curtains that shaded the window above my bed, I saw the giant chess set covered in snow!


Beautiful Interlaken, a white wonderland.


The Alps, ladies and gents.


I decided to go to Coop around the corner and pick up some ingredients to make cookies (see below). I had extra sugar, extra butter, and a big bag filled with clementines. I decided I would experiment and attempt to candy the clementines. Meg and Emily laughed at me while my concoction cooked into an interesting, syrup-like substance. They didn't taste half bad though, and Emily liked them. So there.


The hostel had a public kitchen with a convection oven too small for cookie sheets and no measuring cups whatsoever. I eyeballed everything and in doing so, overestimated the butter and underestimated the flour. I shaved Tolberone bars into the batter - that definitly made up for my measurement errors. They turned out fine, a bit crispy, but otherwise delicious.


See?


- "Oh my gawd! Did you see what she wore to Metro last night?"
- "Lord I know! Talk about disco inferno! She's got alotta nerve, that one."
- "Don't you know it. Hey June, I heard they got a new keyboard player down at the Jazz Club. They say he's quite the fox."
- "Count me in! And it's Tuesday! You know what that means..."
- (together) "Tacos!"


This is definitly the most bizarre blanket I have ever seen. Unfortunately, I can't say it belongs to Jenna - it's her host family's. Look how perfectly the two cats fit underneath her arms. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was made this way intentionally. Jenna is hilarious!


Me, Meg, Emily, Jenna, and Shan. We braved the very very back seat for the eight hour bus ride. I had an absolute ball with them this weekend.

A Poem

Santorini

Cornflower blue
Caldera view
His art
My new start

Two arms embrace
Crescent moon space
My home, I feel
The layers, I peel
Volcanic eruption
Island consumption
Years apart
Fortuitous art

Island bar
Hotel far
Dark night
Cold flight
Wild hair
Feet bare
Quiet dance
My romance

Special magic
Weather tragic
Summer fun
Idyllic sun
One-way trip
Caldera dip

Hard to pack
Small my sack
More is less
A blue sundress
Sandals, suits

No disputes
Let me fly
Say goodbye

Svizzera

Ciao Ciao,

I haven't updated in a while, but let me assure you, it's all for good reason. You see, last Thursday afternoon before I left for Svizzera, I wrote an entry, attempted to publish it, and it was deleted. I have no idea why. All I know is that I am most definitly holding the worst kind of grudge.

I've got less than two weeks abroad now. I cannot believe how fast the time has gone. I was given a take-home final for English, due Wednesday. I've already presented my marketing plan on Shelta Light, an innovative LUNA Bar-esque product targeted at Italian women. My Italian oral exam is on Saturday morning; the written is next Wednesday. My hardest final, Art History, is this Saturday evening. I've got my plate full, although not as full as it could be, thankfully. On top of everything, my immune system has predictably failed, and I'm dutifully battling the common cold with an influx of clementines and Airborne. All in good time.

Switzerland, Interlaken to be exact, was very beautiful. We stayed at this really great hostel, Balmers, complete with red gingham blankets, fire places, and a giant outdoor chess set. It also was home to Metro, the only night club in Interlaken. On Friday, we bopped around Bern, a town about one hour from Interlaken. We browsed through Christmas markets, sampled INCREDIBLE caramels, and sipped spiced wine (that was a bit too pungent in my opinion). We also went to an English showing of Casino Royale, only to run out BEFORE IT ENDED in order to catch the bus back. I liked it though, the parts that I saw. Friday evening, we had a blast at a fondue dinner in our Hostel. It snowed Friday night, setting the mood for a movie-watching, cookie-baking day on Saturday. On Sunday, I woke up with the cold and hung around the hostel, reading while everyone was out and about, jumping out of planes and skiing down glaciers. Don't pity me, though - The Horse Whisperer and I got along just fine. Our bus ride home was quite an adventure. Watching Love Actually and getting that little taste of Christmas was definitly worth the eight hour trip back to Firenze, smudged in the very very back.

Each time I get that comforting feeling returning to Florence after a weekend away, I am reminded of just how much this place means to me, and just how much it has become my home.

Yours,
Genevieve

Pictures to come.