A reflective look back

This post is way over due, for that I apologize. In fact I originally planned to write and post this on the 31st August – the 1 year anniversary of my year abroad, but it just didn’t happen.
It’s weird to comprehend just how much time has passed since I got on that plane to Cologne. It seems like a few months rather than more than a year. As I’ve said before, I do feel quite disconnected from that girl I was, but proud at what she achieved at the same time. I’ve seen the change in myself even more since coming back to the UK. I can interact with people and deal with awkward situations a lot better. Idle chitchat is not as painful as it used to be. That’s not saying that I enjoy it, because I still loathe talking about absolutely nothing just for the sake of filling in the silence, but it’s a lot easier.
I keep thinking back to how I was this time last year. The first few weeks were definitely the most difficult in both countries. Trying to get over your home sickness, whilst being constantly exposed to new and strange places, people, customs, whilst trying to speak the language, whilst trying to sort out your accommodation, internet, mobile, whilst trying to figure out where to buy things like toiletries, crockery, bedding, stationary, batteries and other simple items that are never sold in the places you’d expect to find them at home (Good luck trying to buy some decent shampoo in a German supermarket) is exhausting. In fact it blinds your vision from all of the positive things that are happening. Like those amazing people you are meeting, the beautiful surroundings (location dependent of cause), those interesting aspects of foreign life…I’m pretty sure I don’t need to go on. How long it takes for the black clouds to blow away revealing the year abroad’s silver lining differs of course, but for me it was about a few weeks into it that I really began to fully enjoy it. I mean I loved orientation at Marburg, but I spent the all of my free time depressed and lonely.
If we go back even further to spring 2010, when I was in the final planning stages of my year abroad I remember distinctively a phone conversation with one of my fellow Germanists in which we both broke down in tears at the thought that we HAD to go abroad for the year. I’ve said this 1000 times but I know that if the year abroad was voluntary then I would never have gone through with it. I saw the value of going abroad, but I couldn’t see the enjoyment. I was a wuss. But I know that I am not the only one who felt like that. I hear often about people who actually do not go through with the year abroad. Students here in the UK who will purposefully apply to university courses without the YA or, those who are more extreme, even drop out of their course because when the choice is between that and spending a year in a foreign country they’d rather be a uni drop out. One of my friends in Naples had been offered the chance to study in Spain but she turned it down a few weeks before her departure because she was so scared. I understand why she did it. I still remember how extreme the fear was in those final weeks at home. The fear of the unknown. But do you know what? She regrets that decision, and I’m not surprised. She’s missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime.
As humans we are flawed. We concentrate on the short term and not on the long term benefits. We are so overwhelmed by our current emotions that we make decisions on a whim without even thinking about what we are actually throwing away. A year abroad isn’t just about improving language, it’s about becoming independent, seeing the world without having to worry about your financial situation, meeting and making friends with people from all over the world, having a year out of uni to relax and think about your future without to much stress, try out new things that you’ve always wanted to……..and so on and so on.
My year abroad helped to finally choose a career path which no means that I can properly plan my future and tailor my extracurricular activities to benefit my CV. It’s also helped my confidence in speaking, which is something I’ve always have problems with since I started learning languages. It’s also helped me to want to learn Italian. I look back at my Italian grades from last year with disgust. They were really poor. But it was because my heart wasn’t in it. After living in Italy and meeting some of the nicest Italians I now WANT to improve my Italian, which should hopefully become apparent in next semester’s grades.
I know that this post is a little unstructured, it’s pretty much waffle. But it is how I feel looking back at my year abroad. I’m very jealous of the people who are now in Marburg going through the trials and tribulations that I did. Those living in Fuchspass pulling their hair out about the absence of internet. It was an amazing year. Definitely worth the home sickness and trouble, because now I have a unique set of memories that I will hold dear to me for a life time. <3

Ashamed to be British

I appear to have taken an unintentional hiatus from this blog. I put it down to the fact that I am still suffering from those post-Erasmus blues. I still have much to blog about, in particular my recent return to Dland, but I’ve found myself in such a melancholy state that the idea of writing turns me right off.

However with recent events, the anger and frustration boiling up inside of me has spurred me on to write this post. No it isn’t particularly “year abroad”-esque, however it is a very important topic and I need to get this out there for the world to know.

For those of you that don’t know (I’m sure you’re in a minority by now) the UK is in chaos. The cities are run amok with anarchists and general hooligans looting and burning down businesses, homes and council owned properties. They were originally doing it in vengeance of Mark Duggan, a boy shot down by police in London this weekend, but it has obviously now got beyond that. The rioting, which first started in the area of Tottenham, spread throughout London and has now hit the rest of the UKs primary cities. People are using the riots as a platform to show the government their upset and anger at the “regime” and the looters are supposedly recuperating the money they have lost in tax. People are losing their homes and livelihoods and the whole world have now turned their gaze to us.

I have never been so embarrassed of my country and in now way am I being overdramatic when I say I am ashamed to be British right now. I have never come across such selfishness, such stupidity and such a complete disregard for fellow human beings. How anyone can justify such an act is beyond me. I don’t care how much the “system has f***ed you over”, I don’t care if you are trying to start a “revolution”, you are acting like a bunch of wild animals and are causing so much destruction to innocent people. If you have a problem with the government, then attack the government, not the hard owned properties of your neighbours. With nearby Bristol already in revolt I’d not be surprised if this ignorance soon hits my town, and as the daughter of a small business owner I know how much damage will be caused if my Dad’s shop was to be targeted. We would probably end up bankrupted, our house would be taken away from us, my Nana would end up having to either find her own rented or go some sort of sheltered accommodation. My dad would be instantly unemployed, my mum would have to find herself a job, and consequently find some after school care for my brother. When I see the victims of this violent rampaging on the news my heart goes out for them. Do these people not realise the instantaneous downward spiral they have forced these people into. People, who just like them, have been “f***ed by the system”.

This is ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. How anyone could do this to another human being is just beyond my comprehension. But what concerns me just as much is what image this is portraying on the rest of the world. I was in Naples during the height of this years rubbish crisis and I saw for myself how something that is already bad, is perceived an hundred times worse when seen through the foreign media. I had my parents back home watching it on the BBC news, my boyfriend learning about it from Yahoo Japan and they just could not understand it. What they saw was a government failing to meet the primary needs of their people. People who couldn’t give a damn about their environment. A city in chaos. But that wasn’t the case. They didn’t see the back story, they didn’t hear about how these mountains on rubbish that were being set on fire were an act of desperation because there was just so much of it on the streets. They were not trying to make trouble, they just wanted rid of it and if ASIA weren’t going to take it away then they would. So I can only imagine how much worse these already hideous events taking place in the UK will  look in Germany, Italy, USA, Japan, China, Australia. They won’t understand the fuss about “Mark Duggan”, they won’t sympathise with people trying to “f**k over the system that f***ed them”, nor will they condone looting, which lets face it people is just an euphemism for stealing, as a way of recuperating your taxes. In fact why the hell do you need to recuperate you tax anyway! Unless you are willing to go and erect some street lights, fill in some potholes, help build the new leisure centre, feed and clothe a handicapped neighbour then shut the hell up and get on with it.

I think it’s time the police upped the game. Show no mercy like you did during the student protests! I don’t believe in shooting, but if you need to use some brutal force then do it. Bring in the army, bring in the tanks, I really don’t care just please bring peace back to our streets. And if any of you selfish, disgusting wasters are reading this. YOU are everything that is wrong with this country. Not the immigrants, not the politicians, not the Z-lister celebrities, YOU!

(p.s. to any tourists who are in the UK atm, particularly in London, then I am so so sorry. I hope that this doesn’t leave you with an unrealistic view of my country. Every country has it’s low lives and unfortunately ours have gone a little out of control. England is a beautiful country with so much to offer, please don’t be put off.)

Update on life back home

I’ve been back home for two weeks now so it’s time I give a quick update.

I’ve found adjusting back to UK life difficult. I don’t know whether it is some sort of culture shock or a slight touch of depression or whether it has something to do with the events that happened on my first night home (I’ll explain in a bit) but I find myself feeling uncomfortable about going out of the house or talking to anyone who isn’t a member of my family. In fact we hosted a BBQ last weekend and invited round my mum’s friends and I pretty much hid away in my bedroom because I didn’t want to answer all of the questions they were bound to ask me about my year abroad. Strange considering that I loved my time away and should want to share it with people.

I don’t know if this is normal behaviour or not for someone in my position. I mean on your year abroad you are so independent and you are constantly experiencing something new, whilst at home everything is so…familiar. My view of England has definitely changed. Before I left for Germany I appreciated the modern aspects of my country but now I feel myself yearning for traditional things. We went to my sister’s school fête the other day which is in a very small village just outside of my town. The town is so…English. Tudor buildings, Saturday markets in the square, a town crier, etc etc. This is the type of place that I want to live in. Somewhere full of culture, history and community. This time last year I never gave that village a second thought.

It’s hard to tell whether I’ve been keeping myself in the house because of my melancholy or because I don’t have a choice. I don’t have a huge amount of friends in my home town and the one’s that I do have aren’t here at the moment, so even if I did want to go out with someone, I can’t.

I promised that I would explain about the events of my first night back home. I went to one of my best friend’s birthday party after only having landed a few hours earlier. I was still emotional and a bit overwhelmed by I went for her. She was too busy hosting it all and the only two people there who I properly knew were two girls with whom I’d had a massive falling out with just after I went to uni. To cut a long story short my friend asked them to talk to me but I couldn’t handle the fakeness of it all, all of the hurt that I’d kept pent up over the past three years about what happened made me feel so vunerable and upset that I left after just an hour.

I don’t know if that had some type of effect or not but it sure did make an emotional day even more emotional.

Anyway enough of the doom and gloom, I am off back to Germany on Wednesday for two weeks to see friends, deal with unfinished business and watched the F1 German Grandprix :D I’m so excited for it all, I can’t wait.

I’ll be sure to post about it.

Until then, bye, 

Counting down the hours

All I can think right now is wow, I’ve made it.
It doesn’t feel like I’m going home tomorrow at all. I was walking through the streets of Naples today and it didn’t feel like goodbye.
I had my last gelato today, lemon and zuppa inglese (a flavour that I’ve been curious but scared to taste ever since I arrived…it was just as odd tasting as I thought) and I’m off to have my last vera pizza napoletana with my friends later.
It’s funny to think that 10 months have passed since I was sat all alone in the Ibis am Dom hotel in Cologne, crying my eyes out and hyperventilating. I remember in the end my boyfriend had to phone the hotel phone using skype (my mobile couldn’t receive any signal in my room) and spoke to me for 3 or 4 hours to keep me company. I feel so detached from that girl. I admit I still get afraid and lonely but that 20 year old girl who had never travelled alone, let alone live alone, she was at breaking point. Even the next day when I arrived in Marburg, I still felt so dead inside.
Go back even further. Go back to August when I started this blog. One of my first posts is all about how much I don’t want to go. How much I was dreading this year. But do you know what, it has ended up as being the best year of my life so far. I know everyone says that, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I have never had so much fun.  
When I got on the plane on the 31st August 2010 I cried during take off. It wouldn’t surprise me if I do the same tomorrow. But this time the tears will be a mixture of emotions. Happiness for going home after 10 months away with just a 2 week break for Christmas, pride at how much I’ve accomplished this year, and also sadness, sadness for my year abroad that literally passed in a flash.
I will make the most of my last few hours here in Naples and I will go back to the UK and tell everyone the wonderful things and people that I have seen during my journey.
I’m not going to shut this blog down just yet. There is still some stuff that I can add to it.
I’m so thankful to have been “forced” to go abroad. :)

2 days until I go home: starting to get teary.

Today is the 23rd of June which means tomorrow I hit the 18th week mark of stay in Italy (my university’s minimum requirement) and the day after I’m flying home.

I can’t believe it. I’m in a state of shock.

I’m excited, god how I’m excited, to go home, see my family and friends, eat all of those food that I have been missing for so long………..the list could go on and on.

But I’m also sad.

I didn’t think I would feel sad until saying my proper goodbyes on Saturday, but it’s come early. I’m not sad to leave Naples, I think everyone knows that that, but I’m sad to leave behind some people who I’ve really come to care about.

It’s different to when I left Marburg. I left Marburg knowing that I would return and see everyone at least one more time. But I can’t promise that I will come back to Naples. I definitely want to come back to Italy, but my plan is to concentrate on the places I missed out on up north. Flying to Naples isn’t exactly cheaper either unless you fly from Stansted. There’s the chance I’ll see my mentor again. She loves London and hopefully she’ll let me know if she’s coming. The same with the teacher who I give private lessons too. In fact she has family in London, so there’s even more chance. But there is one special person who I might never see again. My host mum has been wonderful. She’s been generous, kind, supportive, caring. She’s made feel part of this family and I have to say that in these four short months a daughterly love inside of me has grown inside of me for her. She’s not in a financial position to travel, as a matter of fact, she’s never travelled outside of Italy in her life, so unless I come back…well that’s the end of that.

To quote the Biebs here, I’m never say[ing] never to coming back. I’d like to see more of the area, explore the other two islands, see the famous Amalfi coastline, but I don’t see it happening in the near future.

I thought I’d just get this all out before I go to bed. My room is a mess at the moment. Everything is on the floor. I’ve half packed. The next few days are going to go by so quick. Before I know it I’ll be at my friend’s 21st birthday party on Saturday night in a surreal daze, recalling all of my adventures during the 297 days of my year abroad.

The girl who lives here is CRAZY

You may recall me talking about a mystery girl who moved in with her dog and cat. Yes well a few weeks on I’m still non the wiser as to why she is here but I have noticed that she is a little…OCD.

We share a bathroom, something which I am most upset about, I miss having such a large, beautiful bathroom all to myself…wahhhhh, and I’ve noticed that she loves to clean it. She also loves to clean her bedroom. It makes me feel bad for never actually cleaning while I’ve been here. In all fairness I did ask at the beginning, but my host mum was adamant that I didn’t need to lift a finger.

ANYWAY getting back on track, today mystery girl’s dog found a cockroach in her bedroom. Well let me tell you it was the most hilarious, over dramatic scene ever. She comes running into the bathroom clutching her dog, despite the fact that I am in there (luckily I am just doing my hair). She’s all hysterical and I go out to see what the fuss is about. Host mum has killed the cockroach but girl is still refusing to leave the bathroom. The next thing I know the room is being fumigated with anti-bug spray and all of the furniture, including the bed, is in the hallway. My host mum was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor, sweeping the mattress, the bedding was put in the washing machine, the dogs bed and toys were bathed in disinfectant and left in the bath tub. Seriously it was just a cockroach.

God knows I have my fair share of freak outs when I see 8 legged mini monsters, I refused to open my window in Germany for fear of them and ended up with a bill of over 100euro because of the mould that had grown thanks to poor room circulation. But this is too much. Seriously get a grip woman.

Worst thing is my host mum hurt her back from this and spent pretty much the rest of the day in bed.  :(

Death finally caught up with me

So many people have been affected by death this year.
I blogged ages ago about how it was starting to affect me and how I was afraid of that day that someone that I care about passes away.
Today, after a day at the beach I was all ready to blog about hairy armpits, speedoes and the absence of one pieces in Naples when someone’s status on Facebook caught my eye.
It was an ex-colleague who had written an RIP message. I assumed it would be for Ryan Dunn from Jackass, there were a few of those statues on my news feed, but this one stood out as being different. I read the name and assumed it was some sick joke. I even, for a moment, thought that he must know someone else with that name, but that was stupid of me since her name is so unique.
I read the comments underneath and her wall and it was true. A woman who had been so supportive to me and a real friend had died alone in her house in Taiwan. She’d gone back to Taiwan last year after a fall out with our boss. It was only supposed to be temporary and she was planning on returning to the UK soon to continue with her studies. She was a remarkable woman. She was caring, fun loving and very unique. Although she was old enough to be my mum she was extremely young at heart and was more like an older sister. We’d kept in contact during this year and I hoped to see her again soon.
She was unlucky with love and had never married, nor did she have any children. I can’t believe she’s been taken from this world in what has been described as an “accident”. I don’t know what the cause of death was, and I don’t know if I want to. All I know is that it is going to take a long time for me to understand that she is gone.
This is all probably sounds so stupid in comparison to the deaths that have affected my friends this year but like I said I had been lucky so far to have never have a friend or family member die (ok that’s a lie my Nanny died, but it was so long ago and I was only 7 so it didn’t affect me).
Life is so short and so cruel. I just hope she didn’t suffer. RIP my friend, I’ll keep you live in my heart.  

A wee update

So as today is now Saturday that makes it exactly a week until I go home.

Ahhhh there is so much that I need to do.

At the moment I’m pretty much spending all of my free time writing my essay for my home uni which I’d like to finish before I leave. I’ve only written a 1000 words so far, which isn’t great since I’ve pretty much spent a full two days sat writing it. I keep getting distracted by everything.

I really needed to sort myself out!

Here’s to a productive weekend.

Capri + Scooter = Awesome

On my boyfriend’s last day in Italy we went to Capri, one of the three Islands which lay in the Golf of Naples. It’s well known as being a tourist hot spot as well as very pricey. (Random fact for you all: Did you know that Angela Merkel likes holidaying yearly on the larger, less touristy Island of Ischia?)

Now everyone has told me since I arrived that I must not miss out on a trip to Capri and that I must go there with my boyfriend because it is sooooooo romantic. So it was always going to be on the itinerary for his visit, although it moved to the Friday due to the weather.

We travelled to Capri, unsurprisingly by a small ferry. I ferry ride was awful. We were not allowed on deck so it was incredibly stuffy and the sea was very lively, so you can imagine how incredibly seasick we both became. While we tried to distract ourselves from the persistent rocking of the boat, we read a flyer that had been handed to us when we boarded. It advertised a company who rented out boats for you to drive around the island. The boats appeared to be mini motorised yachts with space to lie and sunbathe. At 80 euro for two hours we were very tempted. I imagined us driving around the island for a bit, then stopping in one of the areas on the leaflet which is suggested for swimming, playing in the water for a bit, then carry on a bit more, the boyfriend at the wheel of the boat, me working on my tan. Unfortunately when we got to Capri all of the boats were occupied and there was a line of people waiting for them to return. We only had four hours on the Island so we decided to abandon our dream.

But all was not lost. Just before we got to the boat stand I had seen a sign advertising scooters for rental. In a bid to try and see as much of the Island as possible in our limited amount of time, I suggested something completely out of the ordinary: “let’s rent a scooter”. I’m usually against motorised two wheeled methods of transportation and refuse to let my boyfriend buy or even ride a motorbike or moped, however I did always have the hope that when I came to Italy I could ride around the streets on a Vespa. This was thrown out of the window as soon as I stepped foot in Naples and saw the reality of driving in the city. But now we were in Capri, this was my chance to tick something else off of my bucket list and my boyfriend’s only chance to drive a moped with my full support.

I admit I was a little apprehensive when we went into the shop and the woman continuously asked “You have driven a scooter before? You do drive one everyday? Everyday day yes?” but it was fine and very enjoyable. The views were amazing and we practically saw the whole Island, something which wouldn’t  have been possible without the thing. There was one awkward moment when my boyfriend drove on the left hand side of the road, luckily the on coming traffic was quite a distance away when we noticed. The scooter itself wasn’t the coolest moped on the block, it was some tacky yellow thing, but we weren’t the only ones riding one. In fact renting a scooter seems to be the thing to do in Capri, and why not, it is the easiest and most liberating way to see the Island. It’s also the coolest way. I mean cool as in temperature wise. It was such a hot day but on the scooter you barely noticed. I wouldn’t have enjoyed myself nearly as much if I’d been walking up and down the cliffs in the sweltering heat.

^How can such a beautiful place exist?

We had the scooter for 3 hours and we ended up with a spare 30 minutes before needing to catch the boat home. We stripped off into our swimwear and spent the half an hour on the free beach next to the harbour. It has literally been about 10 years since I’ve been in the sea and I stupidly forgot that it was salty. One mouthful and I was gagging. The waves were also quite big which meant that I looked very ungraceful, especially when I tripped over a huge rock on the seabed when I tried to make my way to the staircase out of the sea.

All in all an amazingly fun filled day, and one that I will never forget all thanks to the scooter. Literally it is something I will tell my grandparents about. When we went back to Naples we ate at Rossopomodoro, a Neapolitan food chain which supposedly has restaurants in Chelsea and Covent Garden. It was probably the worst food we have both eaten here in Italy, I’d like to say that’s quite an achievement since I’ve eaten over 200 Italian meals since being here.  I would not recommend the place to anyone. Please don’t waste your money on the place.

^ Appetizing?? I think not. Is it possible that is tastes worse than it looks?

 

Phew I’m glad that all of these long posts about my week as a tourist are over, now I can resume blogging about important things like Cumana strikes and buying toiletries ;)

Discovering Pompei and licking a bit of William and Kate in Sorrento

Spoiler: Be sure to check out the photos below to understand the slightly kinky title ;)

The original plan was to go to Capri on the Thursday and Pompei on the Friday, as I assumed Capri would be busier nearer the weekend. However the weather did not look promising at all on Thursday and we decided to bite the bullet and go to Capri on the Friday.

Now I couldn’t leave Naples without having been to Pompei. It would have been silly to miss out on something so culturally important which is literally right on my door step. It didn’t disappoint. It’s a hard-core place to visit, with all of it’s walking and getting lost in the rows upon rows of street, but you really get an insight into Roman Europe. It didn’t feel like you were walking in an archaeological site, but an actual town. It was all just very very surreal.

The only think that left me unsatisfied was that I couldn’t find the casts of the volcano victims, but we weren’t the only ones. Supposedly there are a few in the national archaeological museum in Naples, so if I end up having time (which I won’t haha) I will visit there to quench my thirst.

We left Pompei around 3pm so I suggested we take the Circumvesuviana line to Sorrento. I’d already been to Sorrento with my parents and although it’s not the most exciting place, it is rather charming, with stunning views and they do have an amazing gelateria there.

So that’s what we did. We walked around, took some photos, bought some ice cream, looked in some shops and went back to Naples. Unfortunately we couldn’t take the ferry home like I’d done with my parents because the last ferry had already left. That night I took my boyfriend to Mergellina where we ate in a very cosy restaurant with a very funny waiter named Antonio.

^ Pompei

^ Sorrento

^William and Kate Ice Cream! What a flavour!  Tastes delicious, but it sounds so awkward when you order it.

^ Sorrento is very proud of their lemons. I can see why! Hugest lemons ever!

^ For all of those British tourists who can’t stand Italian food, or shall we say, HAVE NO TASTE.

^My boyfriend’s seafood dinner.

Next stop Naples

So continuing on where I left off in my Rome post, me and my boyfriend took the train down to Naples on the Tuesday afternoon.

Now I felt very depressed coming back to this city. I fell deeply in love with Rome. It was so beautiful and so much more tranquil than the inferno of Naples. I was almost close to tears when I stepped off the train at Stazione Centrale. My boyfriend didn’t seem any better, after checking into the B&B, which I had made sure was in one of the most upmarket and safest areas, we took the funicolare up to Vomero to try and pick him up a strap for his SLR camera. I could tell by his face that something was wrong. It turns out that all of my talk about Naples in the past few days had been so negative that he was now really afraid to be there. I felt awful.

Luckily he perked up. My shoes broke and we had to go for an emergency shoe hunt which was a complete disaster. We only had one hour to find shoes, it was 7pm, and I have abnormally wide feet and could not find any shoes that would fit them. Finally at 7.50pm I found a pair of boots…yes boots in the summer!…that accommodated my feet well enough.

We then went for a walk along the sea front towards a pizzeria that I had been to a few months before with my family. I ordered pizza D.O.C and he ordered pizza marinara (two very Neapolitan/original pizzas).

We went home and attempted to have a shower. It turns out that the shower uses a tank and we had been left with no hot water! As if that wasn’t bad enough our bathroom had some weird device which sucks the water from the tap/toilet/shower very loudly, which was annoying and scary.

The next day I took him to the historical centre. We got the metro to my least favourite part of the city Montesanto,which my boyfriend renamed “Shanty Town”. I took him to see the statue of Dante but alas it was under constructions, or should I say under cleaning (is that even a phrase?) because of all of the unsightly graffiti. Anyway I took him to see my favourite monument in Naples, The Gesu’ Nuovo. It’s such a suprise when you walk into the building because from the outside it doesn’t even look like a church and then walk in and it’s like BAM!

From this:

To this:

We then walked along the small narrow streets of the historical centre looking in the shops and then shopping for a bit to watch the man selling fake designer bags fail at trying to sell his crap to tourists. For lunch I tried to that him to a place I’d been with an Italian friend but I couldn’t find it and decided to go to another pizzeria that I’d been to with my parents. On the way there we were stopped by a man who was funnily enough advertising for the pizzeria we were going to. He first tried to speak to me in English and then asked “Sei italiana?” “Si’” I replied…and guess what he fell for it hahaha. So for lunch we had fried pizza and croche’. Nomnomnom.

We then went home and I packed up all of the things that I didn’t need anymore. We got on the Cumana to Quarto, the town where I used to teach at, and I showed him the stray dogs at the train station and the school. We then hopped back on the Cumana to Soccavo where we got an ice cream (strawberry and I’ve forgotten what else) and we went to my house where I introduced him to everyone and we collected some stuff that I needed for the next few days/ stuff for him to take back to the UK.

That night we went to a Greek kebab, which I love so much.

We ate it by the sea looking out at the lovely night view. A lovely way to end the night.

I lost my heart in Rome…oh and my glasses too.

I crossed off another goal and my “bucket list” this week. I took a trip to the beautiful city of Rome.

My boyfriend came to Italy for the week, our anniversary week, and we decided that it would be a great opportunity for me to actually see more of this country. So he flew into Rome, which was actually more convenient than flying to Naples anyway and I met him at the airport there.

The journey to Rome wasn’t too bad. The train was packed mainly full of North American and British tourists all fleeing the chaos of Naples for the capital. I took a pre-booked shuttle coach to the airport, which I almost missed because of the lack of directions from the website. The shuttle was very uncomfortable. It was 28C outside and the aircon wasn’t very effective. The seats were lovely and moist, which felt great on my naked legs (insert shudder here). We got back into the city of Rome late, thanks to his delayed plane, so we had McDo for dinner (as you do in Rome), we found our B&B which was incredibly nice, took a wee trip to the supermarket for snacks and drinks and off to bed we went.

-Pistachios, Chino (strange Italian drink that I wanted the bf to try, he hates it just as much as me, and Bacetti (fortune chocolate) - 

The main plan for Sunday was to see the Colosseum although we ended up getting distracted and our path altered numerous times. We saw the palace where the President lives and the Vittoriano, which we climbed up. From there we attempted to find the Colosseum but we got lost and ended up finding the Ferrari Club. We’d seen them earlier driving around with a police escort but now we were lucky enough to find them all parked. We walked around, had a good look at them and took a few photos. My boyfriend got angry at a Chinese girl who kept touching the Ferraris.

- If you look closely there is a BMW stuck in the middle -

It turns out that we had accidently found the piazza for the Bocca della Verita’ so we went and got our photo taken with it. The Colosseum looked just as epic as I imagined although the queue (or lack of organised queue) was very long and busy. It was a good job that my boyfriend had been to Rome before because otherwise I would have definitely got ripped off by the men in Roman costumes charging 20 euros for a photo with them. A torrential down pour started and I’d left my umbrella at home so we went and got some lunch and then made our way back to the B&B to collect the umbrella/rain coat and freshen up for the evening walking tour. Now I love free walking tours. There is so much that you would normally miss or not understand without having taken a few hours out of your trip to walk around with someone who is passionate about the city. Unfortunately because of the rain our guide called the tour off after just 30 minutes. So we went for a bit of a wonder around by ourselves. We had a look in a few shops, saw the Trevi fountain, had an expensive and small dinner, and then sat at the fountain at the bottom of the Spanish Steps. It’s there where I stupidly must have put down my reading glasses and walked off without them. As if that wasn’t bad enough the next day I realised that I’d left my umbrella in the restaurant – That’s the 3rd umbrella to have been lost or broken since my Year Abroad began!

Monday was the day of our anniversary…our four year anniversary to be exact! We went for a proper Italian breakfast in a bar (I refused to eat the B&B’s poor excuse for a continental breakfast) and then walked to the Trevi Fountain where we made four wishes. We both had two individual wishes and then two joint wishes. Obviously I can’t reveal the wishes otherwise they won’t come true :P

We then went to Pantheon, crossed the Bridge of Angels and visited the Vatican. Unfortunately the Pope was a bit too busy to see me but nevertheless it is a beautiful “city”. We didn’t bother with the museums as our time in Rome was limited enough. We bought some postcards and sent them using the Vatican’s own stamps and postal service, had another over priced lunch and went in search of “Rome’s best ice cream”. Well what an adventure that was. My boyfriend proved that map reading is not his strong point and about two hours later, which burning feet, blisters, sweat, we reached the gelateria. I had coconut and pastiera napolitana flavour. Was it worth it? Probably not, but at least we can say we’ve ate it.

- And the reward for tinniest ice cream in the world goes too… -

 From there we visited Berlusconi’s house and the parliament building (I say visit, but it was more like saw from the outside) and then walked to the destination of our anniversary dinner…The Hard Rock Cafe! Now I know what you’re thinking, you’re in Rome and it’s your anniversary and you want to go there??? On the 6th of June I had been in Italy for 109 days. That equals 218 meals ( minus 3 non Italian meals) = 215 Italian meals in 109 days. I was sick of Italian food. The anniversary dinner is supposed to be special and Italian food, no matter how delicious, isn’t “special” to me right now. What I wanted most of all where some American style fajitas! And that’s what I got :D When paying for the bill we realised, thankfully before the waiter took the money, that my boyfriend had acquired a 50 cent piece from Vatican City with the Pope’s face on it!

There isn’t much to say about Tuesday. We checked out of the hotel, I bought a new umbrella, wondered around for a bit, bought a few postcards, watched some amateur fashion photo shoot and then got on the Eurostar to Naples. Some Italian girl was sat in my seat and was quite rude telling me there was space at the other side of the table for me (which was originally her seat but she’s obviously didn’t want to face backwards). She said it in poor English and then her and her boyfriend got a shock when I pulled out my book about Naples (in Italian) and started taking notes. I think they were planning on having a b*tch about me but my Italian capabilities made that impossible. I on the other hand had a nice time talking about them to my boyfriend in my very basic Japanese. Aw the joys of being “multilingual”.

Feeling melancholy and going home in two weeks

My body feels so heavy today. Part of this is physical as I have done a lot this past week, but part of it is mental. My boyfriend left today and yes as usually I feel a little tender. It’s a different feeling to the times before though. I didn’t cry this time and even now I don’t feel sad; just lonely. In exactly two weeks time I will be home. I will have mad the exact same journey that I made this morning only it will be me who gets on that plane. I don’t need to be miss him because I will see him again in no time at all, I just miss his company right now.

It’s crazy to think that I only have two weeks left. My boyfriend was here exactly a week and it flew past. Granted we did a lot, everyday was packed full of sight seeing, walking, photo taking, eating from sunrise to way after sunset, but I’m pretty sure these two weeks will go just as fast.

I’m excited to go home. I realised this week, with all our travelling, just how over Naples I am. There isn’t much to see or do. I’m sick of the smell, the dirt, the noise. I just want to be home in my quiet little suburb. I know I’ll be sad to leave though. Maybe not because I’m leaving Naples, but because it marks the end of my year abroad. That will take a lot of getting used to. Where has the time gone? How did I get here so quickly. It feels like just a few months ago I was writing my first few posts about how scared I was and how I was dreading this year. In just a few weeks I’ll be making the mirror of those posts. I’ll be looking back on my time instead of looking at the present and future.

So yes today is a melancholy day. A day of loneliness and the inevitable end of probably the best year of my life.

Now to get writing about my hectic week.

Rude Neapolitans, Delightful Staff, Rome tomorrow and hitting 5000.

This is post will be a bit of a mix match of this and that but here we go.

Today I was close to tears after some b*tch yelled at me. I went to the ticket desk of the Cumana station to buy four day tickets for my boyfriend who is coming tomorrow (more about that in a sec!). She didn’t even properly acknowledge me and just carried on her speaker phone conversation. She said 14.40euro but for some reason my brain heard 14 but processed it into 4. So I put down a 5 euro note and 40 cents (cos I thought I’d be nice), next thing I know she turns to me and literally yelled “Quattordici!!!!!”. This is the first time I’d been out of the house since Monday and really wasn’t in the mood to see people and this woman just mad things worse. I felt like such a foreigner.

But then on the way home I decided to stop in a few shops to buy a new bag and a few other unnecessary items. The woman in the bag shop came over and asked me if I needed help. I actually did for once, but was a bit intimidated after what had happened a few hours before. However this woman was lovely. She went out back and got me the bag I wanted in black and in the brand new colour that hasn’t been put on the shelves yet. She was so friendly and so smiley. Probably the nicest shop assistant I’ve met this year. I left the shop in a good mood.

I then went into Yama May and the girl in there was just as nice. To be honest I expected her to be rude. She was only about 19 and just had that stuck up, I don’t wanna be here type face. But like I said I was totally wrong. She was really nice about me not knowing what size I was…weird Italian sizes…and gave me advice and even tried to find me alternatives just in case I might like them more.

I’m off to Rome tomorrow (technically today…must get to bed!). I’m meeting my boyfriend at the airport in Rome and then we will be there until Tuesday. I really can’t wait. It’ll be our four year anniversary on Monday. I can’t believe it. I’m so excited and jittery.

And while I’ll be away from my blog, I’m set to reach the 5000 views mark. 0.0 Crazy. I thought I’d add a little view counter to my blog to show this off…because I’m so modest and all.

So that was my wee ramble. Ci vediamo presto, ok ;) Expect many exciting and looooong posts all about my escapades in the following few days. Arriverderci ragazzi.

Che manicomio

I don’t understand what is going on. It makes me feel really uncomfortable and makes me glad that I’m going to be out of the house for a week from tomorrow.

Basically yesterday while my host mum was out shopping this girl (about a few years older than me) and her younger brother showed up at the door with a whole load of bags. She asked if my host mum was out and I said yes and that I didn’t know when she’d be back. The girl dumped the backs in the living room and then said she’d come back later.

About a quarter of an hour later my host mum arrives with the girl and boy. She explains to me that the girl is the older sister of her son’s best friend (I hadn’t ever had a good look at the boy before, that’s why I didn’t recognise him). She then told me something else but she said it all so fast and I wasn’t really listening.

Next thing I know the girl goes out and comes back with more stuff, and then more stuff, and then brings a cat and then a dog. My host mum makes a bed for her in the study and puts the girl’s dressing gown and toiletries in my bathroom.

I really don’t understand what is going on and I feel foolish to ask. I don’t know if she is just here for a few days or if she is actually moving in permanently. I hope it’s the former since I really feel uncomfortable at the moment especially having to share my bathroom with her. I loved being able to do as I please in there, take as long as I like, make it as disorganised as possible. It sounds awful but I will be gutted if she is still here when I return next Saturday. I just can’t seem to enjoy myself since she moved in, I think it’s down to my “single child syndrome” (as my housemates at uni used to put it). Having been a single child for nine years I still hate sharing. Also I hate the idea that I’m being replaced before I’ve even left the house.

Ah well we’ll just have to wait and see.  

Fireworks in Naples: The Secret Uncovered

Ever since I arrived in Naples I’ve been aware of the crazy amount of fireworks that are let off in the city. Not a week goes by without me having heard at least one firecracker or rocket or whatnot. Sometimes you hear just a single firework, sometimes there is a whole display. I put this down the Neapolitans loving to celebrate. “Yay, SCC Napoli won!” “Yay, Happy Birthday!” “Yay it’s the weekend”. Although I did always find it odd that they are sometimes let off in the middle of the day. Why would you let off fireworks in the day time!?!?!

What I didn’t know was, these fireworks aren’t part of a celebration. They are a signal. When someone lets a firework off it means that the drug dealer is in the neighbourhood. I will leave you to dwell on that.

Isn’t a bit of an obvious signal? Surely the police know? Of course they do, but I’m sure you can guess who runs the drug dealing and why the police are “oblivious” to it.

BED BUGS!?!?!?!

Yesterday morning I woke up to find a very red bump on my leg. I was a little confused and guessed that maybe I had cut myself shaving a few days before and hadn’t noticed it. This morning I woke up to find a similar lump on my other leg. I’m pretty certain that it wasn’t there the day before. The original one is a quite itchy and I can’t help but worry that I have bed bugs!

(I know if any of my friends are reading this they are probably laughing at my usual hypochondria)

But seriously what else could it be? Mosquitoes? I just don’t know.

I need help with my addiction

When I first came to Italy I was addicted to buying shoes. A few months on and I find myself buying toiletries like there is no tomorrow. I now have at least 3 x the amount of bathroom products than I did when I arrived.

I went out yesterday to buy a book and instead came back with 35 euro worth of toiletries.

The worst thing is that I was supposed to buy shampoo but bought the conditioner and ended up going into an other shop to pick up the shampoo. AND when I got home I realised I bought the wrong hair mask. I wanted the one for dry hair but had bought the one for dark hair. I should have just stayed at home. What a fail of a shopping day.

(p.s. no I didn’t buy a book in the end)

Two pizzas in one week, feels like I’m back at uni

I finally met up with my friends again last night.

It was very spontaneous. I received a phone call at about 7.30pm asking me if I wanted to go round my friend’s house for dinner and then out after. I didn’t have any plans, apart from the weekly what a movie on a Friday night tradition, so I accepted the offer.

We ordered pizza, which was funny because my host mum had ordered pizza on Tuesday night. Although I’m living in the capital of pizza, I really haven’t eaten it that often so to eat it twice in one week seemed a little o.t.t and reminded me of when I’m at uni and end up eating Pizza for dinner, and then leftovers for lunch and dinner then next day all thanks to two for Tuesday at Dominoes. But I’m not complaining, and I had two different pizzas. On Tuesday it was margarita and last night D.O.C.

The funny thing was that her boyfriend decided to design his own pizza which consisted of ricotta cheese, ham and……………chips. I’m sorry, it’s ridiculous to put pineapple or sweet corn on a pizza, yet acceptable to have a bowl of French fries on the top. It did taste rather good though haha.

After dinner we went to another friend’s house for a bit and then we all got in the car to go to a bar. We drove to Bagnoli only find that the bar was shut. We waited outside the bar (in the car) for 30 minutes, because the others hadn’t arrived yet. In that time I fell asleep and they decided to take me home.

So that was my night last night. It wasn’t too exciting but better than staying at home. I’ve spent today trying to start a plan for Italian essay but I’m finding it hard to concentrate since I haven’t eaten any proper food all day. My host mum is in a weird mood today and she went out without leaving me anything to eat and has no come home without saying hello and gone straight onto the computer, so I’m 80% sure I’m not going to be getting any proper dinner either. I’m not gonna lie, I’m rather annoyed by this. 

EDIT: Almost forgot…They cut the pizza with SCISSORS!

I AM SO ANGRY

So today, after a weeks postponement we were supposed to be allocated our option units for next year.  Well once again they haven’t met their deadline and I am really really really flipping angry!

They have had an extra week to sort this out, a whole week! How much time do they need!

But what makes me really angry is that fact that we have received no email or apology or news on what is going on. Basically they have gone off home and we won’t hear from them until Monday at the earliest! And on Monday it will just be them letting us know when they will be “ready”.

I’m sorry but I go to one of the best universities in the world and yet their office staff cannot meet a single deadline! It’s a joke, seriously a joke. My boyfriend goes to the ex-poly in the same city and he has never had this problem. SOME HEADS NEED TO ROLE!