Roma

After seven and a half years away (a fact I've been continually doubting, recalculating, and regretting) I am back in Italy!

David and I flew out of Hahn at 6:10 yesterday morning on RyanAir, which I think is pretty much the Greyhound of the skies, but which got us into Rome-Ciampino by about 8:00 and into Rome proper a short bus ride later.

We experienced mild Italian Hotel Disaster upon arrival, but decided to stow our bags at the train station and explore the city before trying again. We toured the Colosseum and then headed over to the Basilica San Pietro (stopping beforehand for pizza--I had potato!), where we decided to go up to the Cupola. Despite having been to St. Peter's a few times, I'd never climbed to the top. It was AMAZING. Amazing! We took all stairs instead of getting the elevator part way, and it was a serious workout; we passed a few people who had to stop and wheeze on the steep stairs beyond the elevator.
But the top was so, so worth it, with incredible views of the interior of the dome, and then, from the lantern, 360° cool and breezy views of the city.

We returned to Termini, figured out our hotel, rested a bit, and then headed out for dinner and what I called the moonlight fountain tour, hitting several baroque water features on our way to the main attraction, Fontana Trevi and San Crispino gelato! Amazing.

I'm finishing up breakfast in our hotel at the moment, and in a short while we'll catch our train to my beloved Firenze. Being back feels good.

Blue Lagoon, Frankfurt,& Büchenbeuren

Tonight we are in Büchenbeuren, which is a small village near the "Frankfurt"-Hahn airport. Ordinarily it's an approximately two-hour bus ride from Real Frankfurt--though ours was longer for some reason apparently explained in German while I was sleeping--which David and I used productively to nap. I would wake up occasionally to really gorgeous verdantly pastoral splashes of German countryside, but would be unable to keep my eyes open.

Our adorable tiny hotel, from which I write, is a welcome change after last night's sketchiest of hostels, of which I will only say: I am too old to be insulted by the surly German youth acting as

receptionist AND sleep on a bunk bed in a dorm room with four [large, male] strangers.

(Thankfully the breakfast this morning was genuinely fantastic, with plentiful rolls to top with cheese, cucumbers, and tomatoes (or Nutella!); muesli; fruit juices; and unlimited coffee.)

We spent the morning poking around Frankfurt, to which I had never been and which is a striking combination of the very old (or at least remnants thereof, after the bombings they took in the war) and the commercial new.

This weekend was also the big Museum Festival, which we didn't know about before booking our trip, but made our time there even more enjoyable, with long stretches of tents along both sides of the river, selling a variety of food, jewelery, and art.

Ah! But before we even got into Frankfurt yesterday, we spent a really lovely layover in Reykjavic, where we did make it to the Blue Lagoon Spa!

It was a quick and easy bus ride from the airport, and we were both able to rent towels and swim suits to enjoy the thermally-heated, silica-clouded, ice-blue waters of the large pool.

It was a brisk day, so steam rose off the water and especially from a central vent around which bathers concentrated, but didn't get -too- close, to avoid being scalded! There were pots of silica mud to smear and let dry on your face, which tightened and smoothed the skin when it was rinsed off.

After a wonderfully warming and relaxing dip, David and I enjoyed leisurely sandwiches in the cafe and strolled around the volcanic landscape before catching our bus back to the airport. Best layover ever.

Now we're headed to "the next village over," where the local restaurant will apparently come pick us up to dine there. It's an Argentinian steak house, but the menu lists an impressive array of vegetarian sides, so I'm excited about some quasi-authentic German eating! Edit: We just got back, and I am stuffed. They made us these great "mixed plates" of the vegetarian options, which included the best baked potato I've eaten in my life. That sounds silly, but it was amazing!

Reykjavik

We made it Reykjavik! Surprisingly, it's only a 5.5 hour direct flight from Mpls, an hour or so of which I spent chatting with our cool seatmate, and the rest of the time making uncomfortable attempts at sleep.

So now David and I are in the airport, where he's taking a powernap after breakfast and I'm taking care of business via airport wifi (not cheap, but hopefully not too extravagant; I haven't really figured out the exchange rate yet...).

I'm lobbying to go to the Blue Lagoon Spa before we catch our connection to Frankfurt later this afternoon; I guess we'll see!

Europa

Guys!

We're leaving in, like, eight minutes for Europe. I'm not sure I've actually mentioned the trip here; I've failed to mention quite a lot of things.

In any case, I've been adjured by relatives to post updates and pictures from our travels, and we're taking David's little lappy, so I will try!

The itinerary is: Frankfurt (by way of a 10-hour layover in Reykjavik), Roma, Firenze, Venezia, Vienna (but only because the overnight train to Linz was booked), Linz. Linz is where I'll be attending the art festival that is the research portion of this trip. I get back Monday night before I have to teach on Tuesday.

And we're off!

Badger, Badger, Badger, Badger...

On Saturday, I ran my first Gopher to Badger Half Marathon (so called because it starts in Minnesota and finishes in Wisconsin; friendly rivalry and all that). It was a pretty brutal run, unfortunately--hot, humid, and hilly, with a 70°/94% humidity start at 8:00 and a finish nearly 10° warmer and almost as humid. Worse, the water stops were few, far between, and unprepared; at one, runners were dipping their own cups into open pitchers of water!

Still, I finished--10 minutes slower than my hoped-for time, completely exhausted, and a teensy bit sunburned, but glad to be done with another long run. The weekend before that, I ran my 15 by myself, around the lakes, with about as much water access (from fountains) as a girl could want. (It was also significantly cooler, since I started approximately an hour and a half earlier!) Next weekend, therefore, I'm forgoing the organized race (though there is one in town--the inaugural 13.1 series race, which looks like a Rock 'n' Roll knock-off) for a quiet tour of the lakes with my running buddy.

This is easily the best running city I've ever lived in. I love that from my place I can run through varied residential and commercial territory to Lake of the Isles, around it and Lake Calhoun, around Lake Harriet, and back, along the Greenway, for a perfect 13 miles. For longer or shorter distances, I can just add or subtract a lake, or spend a bit more time on the Greenway. There are even fountains and restrooms conveniently located around the lakes. And if I feel like mixing it up, there are also always the trails along either side of the Mississippi.

Granted, there's generally snow on the ground 6-7 months out of the year here... but they do plow the trails!

Montréal Deux

Internets, Montreal was awesome. It was unlike any other city I've seen; the closest equation I've been able to come up with is Portland + New Orleans + Amsterdam (or, rather, my imagination of the latter, as I've never been there!).

A few things, I apparently lucked out on: the weather was sunny, and relatively cool and dry (with the exception, naturally, of the quite warm and humid Tuesday, the day I climbed Mont-Royal); I was able to find good vegetarian food (which the city's tradition of French cuisine can apparently make challenging); and my hotel was in what appeared to be the coolest part of the city (the hip, young, Plateau).

The city was highly walkable--compact and with good sidewalks--but there was also excellent public transportation (I bussed from and back to the airport, and once the two miles back to my hotel from downtown). Had I been so inclined, there were also ubiquitous "Bixi" bikes, apparently a direct equivalent to Mpls' Nice Rides, but far more extensive (and with what looked to be a bike-friendlier infrastructure, with lots of dedicated lanes and conscientious drivers).

The architecture was consistently charming, not only in the historic, distinctly French, Vieux Montreal, but in the residential areas of the Plateau and elsewhere. There were a few free-standing mansions, but the majority of the residential areas seemed to consist of block-long rows of houses sharing walls, with exterior staircases leading from the street to the second and occasionally third floor. There were lots of very French balconies (frequently with bikes locked to them!) and lots of flowers. Montreal's citizens seem clearly--and deservedly--very proud to live there.

Wednesday morning I went to the studio to see the pieces and afterward had lunch with the artist's assistant and the latter's boyfriend, who is an artist and currently the pieces' conservationist. That afternoon I wrote and then had dinner at a vegan restaurant, Aux Vivres, which reminded me of Native Foods in California and was completely delicious with an adorable back patio.

Thursday I walked through downtown and Chinatown to Vieux Montreal, explored the quays, and then hit the DHC/ART gallery to see their Jenny Holzer exhibition/installation. After that I headed to the "Mac," the Musee d'Art Contemporain, which wasn't amazing but did have a cool music video exhibit. Thursday night I dined with my new pals the assistant and conservationist at a chic bistro in Little Italy, where we lingered over dinner and dessert until 11:00. We cabbed back to their neighborhood, and from there I walked the 15 minutes or so back to my hotel, feeling completely safe even at so late an hour--particularly because lots of people were still out and about, enjoying the beautiful evening.

It's probably crazy talk--kind of like how when it's sunny in Seattle and thus one of the most beautiful places on earth, I think about moving back--but I could see myself maybe living there. Maybe. I still have to figure out how their winters really compare to ours!

Here are more photos; click here to see larger versions and/or leave comments:

Montréal

So I'm in Montréal this week, where tomorrow, if all goes as planned, I'll get to experience the two artworks I've been trying to see for more than a year! I got here Monday evening, and took today to explore part of the city.

I did a 15-mile training run on Saturday, and rode Urban Assault the next day, so I was already pretty sore before I decided to hoof it around town. I started out (after a walk to the studio where I have my appointment tomorrow) with a climb up Mont Royal, the highest point in the city and conveniently located in its own massive park across from my hotel. If I'd been smart enough to stay on the nicely graveled trails, it would have been a slightly longer, but certainly less strenuous hike; instead, I somehow ended up scrambling straight up a good chunk of the wooded hillside, on "trails" that petered out into nothing but rocks and mud. I was both a sweaty mess, and terribly relieved, when I hit the proper path again near the summit, and stayed on it for the rest of my time in the park.

I ended up going down the opposite side of the mountain, heading through downtown and touring the Musée des Beaux-Arts on my way back to my hotel. I have lots of pictures that I'll try to share here (though sadly I can't get them to upload on David's little lappy). I also have lots of Urban Assault pix, which those of you on Facebook may already have discovered, but at the moment I am thoroughly exhausted. I don't know how many miles I walked and hiked today, but it felt considerable on my sore legs and feet.

Tomorrow's the big day for seeing the artwork, so I'm off to bed!