noi andato a roma

photos taken with fujifilm x30

I know, I said I wasn't going to do this insane photo dumping anymore, but you know what? If people always did what they said, then a new season of Gilmore Girls wouldn't be happening. So there.

Here is the thing about Rome: it is a tourist trap. A very old, very beautiful, very impressive tourist trap I was incredibly excited to visit, but one all the same. Coming from a home state that is splashed across the background of pop culture, I'm just gonna call this one what it is. Everywhere you turn there's someone trying to make twice as many euros as they're worth off the freshest bus of tourists. The tourists who, apparently, have no idea where they are or why they're there. If I had a dollar for every time I heard "Oh honey, I could probably paint that, dontcha think?" in the Vatican, I could pay my way out of my gelato debt. (Primarily incurred at Frigidarium, thanks Hannah) Like come ON people. I don't know your life, but no, I don't think you can paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. I'm always uneasy with the commercialization of holy places, and the Vatican did nothing to assuage my anxiety. With that said, if you're visiting, I very much advise buying a "skip the line ticket". ((Don't get talked into paying for a tour though - once you're inside you're just going to lose them (and your extra 25 euros).)) It is truly stunning inside. A lot of the big tourist pulls are - they're ancient, and have seen so much history happen. It's insane what people who are truly inspired can create, and how long it will last. I suppose that's what pulls millions of people to Rome - they want to see this city that outlived its residents.

The food is exactly as good as you want it to be. Pro tip: nowhere in the free world should pizza cost you 19 dollars. Take a map and get off the main streets. In a side alley near the Trevi Foutain, I paid 2 euros a slice for massive pieces of handmade wood stove pizza made by a cute boy with pretty tattoos.  Woooorth it. I also honored Ethan Kraft and ate spaghetti (if you don't get this reference you need to do better research on Rome). Rome's cafe culture wasn't as prevalent as Vienna's, but they still have these gorgeously old and classical cafes. Beware of the tables though: if you sit down anywhere in Italy, you will be charged a cover charge for the tablecloth, service, etc. It can make your quick caffeine charge a very expensive ordeal.

The highlight for me was probably singing "Hey nOW HEY NOWWWW THIS IS WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF" at the top of my lungs while in the middle of the crowd at the Colosseum, and having a random Italian boy join me. But because everyone knows how that movie ends, I swiftly avoided him.

Spoiler alert: Paulo is a punk.

x J

ps. It's actually a miracle that I'm alive to write this, because Italians in general do not know how to drive, and will hit you before they bother obeying a stop light.



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andiamo a roma

all photos taken with fujifilm x30

I acknowledge that my Vienna post was a little photo heavy, so I'm just going to split Rome up. 
Like a gladiator. (I need to stop watching Scandal. I. Need. To. Stop. (I can't))

The first thing I noticed about Rome, as we were landing (this morning), was the massive Roman aqueduct leftover that was sitting in someones  field. It had a chicken on it. I thought I was hallucinating due to having woken up at 2am in order to catch a taxi. (To get to a bus, to get to a plane, to make it to another bus.) But no, this is just how things are in a city that is literally as old as dirt. 

Since arriving, I have forced my second semester Italian on nearly every person I've spoken to. Mainly to order food. I've been here less than 24 hours and already eaten two kinds of pasta, two kinds of coffee, two kinds of gelato, and a very interesting presentation of chestnuts. I have also had what Rick Steves would refer to as "a spot of bother". I call it "universal balance". The price I paid for getting an entire row of seats to myself on the plane. The Trevi Fountain was not only drained, but half of it was gone, off for "archival reconstruction", and the Spanish Steps were closed for some mysterious reason. To top it all off, my gelato dripped down my arm and into my sweater.

Here is the secret to not being bothered by any of it at all: coffee. I used to make fun of the Warwick Bros. for their coffee obsession, but mine is spinning away. Latest discovery is a Viennese Cappuchino, otherwise known as "Leslie Knope Makes Coffee". It's basically just whipped cream with a little bit of espresso and chocolate at the bottom. Heavenly.

I am learning a lot of things on this trip, like how to not get upcharged on your coffee (drink it at the bar, do not sit down) and how to pack a weeks worth of outfits into a suitcase and have it weigh under 20lbs. (this was hard) But another thing I am learning, (ironically, while being 6k miles away from them), is what majestical people I am surrounded by at home. My friends are all incredibly talented and interesting individuals, and our group chats are legendary. Today, however, three gold star stickers are owed to Sallie. She's on the front lines of my entire life and handles it like an expert (she's one of the very few). She would also like it stated that she sincerely enjoys stalking your guys' instagrams, so please keep commenting on mine so she can do it.

Also, I need it to be noted that I am staying in a hotel that involves taking a 19th century elevator to the sixth floor. I am pretty sure it is haunted, but because this is not a Goosebumps novel, I will not investigate. I will just enjoy its endless mirrors and faint smell of spaghetti.

x J



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in italia//la dolce vita

 dress c.o kling // shoes c.o bc footwear // bag: souve



So I signed up for my first ever college course: elementary Italian.



Mainly because I think Italian is the best language for talking about food, shoes, 

and your opinions on other people's food and shoes.



Also because Italy is a beautiful country full of beautiful people 

and learning Italian is about as close as I'm going to get to being one with them.



(My people, however,

 are much MUCH better at soccer.


 WE WON THE WORLD CUP!! WIR SIND

 DIE WELTMEISTER!!!)

The reason I bring all of this up at all is because I just watched "Under The Tuscan Sun" and it made me think about a lot of things. I'll try to not spoil it if you haven't seen it, but BASICALLY, this incredibly tragic divorcee moves to Italy, 

and life ensues. 

She goes through all of this in that strange wardrobe so loved by the women of 2003. 

You know what I'm talking about

As the story progresses, she starts dressing more and more Italian,

aka 2003 but better

 eventually ending up in fabulous loose sundresses that she wanders gardens and such in.

This is my Italian sundress.

Or rather, Spanish.

It was made by the incredibly talented Kling designers in Spain, 

and it just FEELS like summer sunshine and tomatoes and market days and blue water beaches. 

Paired up with my favorite wedges, 

it's a perfect wandering outfit.

 Now if plane ticket prices could just calm down,

I'd be Italy bound.

Speaking of things that are unreal:

my mums grape vines are out of control.

It's time for them to grow up 

and stop trying to strangle innocent fashion bloggers using them as backround scenery.

xx

Justina

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