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Apologies for the lack of posting lately - finals, moving out of my apartment, getting last minute things done before Italy, traveling and then finally arriving yesterday evening in Verona basically ate up my time. There's so, so much that I want to write about it all, but unfortunately my adapters don't work and someone else is borrowing my roommate's power cord, so I have to wait until tomorrow before my computer's been recharged so I have enough time to write something substantial.
Verona reminds me of Bath: centuries of history in architectural form sandwiched next to each other, but the effect is aesthetically mind blowing rather than incongruous. I have my first day of classes tomorrow right behind the Arena di Verona, one of the largest outdoor performance venues in Europe. The supermarket here is the equivalent of a foodgasm; thanks to the magic of pictures on labels and fuzzy memories of the one semester of Italian I took in high school, we got by. The shopkeepers are voluble and and mistakenly guess my ethnicity with endearing inaccuracy. I could be easily lost among the cobblestoned alleyways, but it's only my first 24 hours in this city, so I figure I'll be able to find my way within the next two months.
I have a bit of a cramp after writing ten letters today, but if you want me to write you from Italy, I'd be more than happy to do so. Really, I like finally having the time to write. (I can't guarantee it'll be a postcard, though, because strangely enough, I haven't found any places that sell them yet. I'm nowhere touristy enough, I guess :D). Comments are screened for privacy.
Verona reminds me of Bath: centuries of history in architectural form sandwiched next to each other, but the effect is aesthetically mind blowing rather than incongruous. I have my first day of classes tomorrow right behind the Arena di Verona, one of the largest outdoor performance venues in Europe. The supermarket here is the equivalent of a foodgasm; thanks to the magic of pictures on labels and fuzzy memories of the one semester of Italian I took in high school, we got by. The shopkeepers are voluble and and mistakenly guess my ethnicity with endearing inaccuracy. I could be easily lost among the cobblestoned alleyways, but it's only my first 24 hours in this city, so I figure I'll be able to find my way within the next two months.
I have a bit of a cramp after writing ten letters today, but if you want me to write you from Italy, I'd be more than happy to do so. Really, I like finally having the time to write. (I can't guarantee it'll be a postcard, though, because strangely enough, I haven't found any places that sell them yet. I'm nowhere touristy enough, I guess :D). Comments are screened for privacy.
