Resurrection, Birthdays and Tunnels

It’s been a very full week up Riva way. I should have updated sooner, but there’s been so much going on!

I begin with last Tuesday: I took a class field trip to see the construction of the new St. Gottard Tunnel. This is the most ambitious and potentially important tunnel project in the world. You think the Chunnel from England to France and under the water was impressive, well you just wait ten years for the Swiss to finish this! The St. Gottard will be 57 kilometers (roughly 35 miles for us non-metric types), and through the Alps. One mountain in particular that I can’t recall the name off is being burrowed through as we speak. There are actually two lines running though the mountains, one North-bound and one South-bound, and this is designed to allow more freight trains to pass through Switzerland, thus reducing the need for heavy freight trucks on the highways. They’ll tell you all the statistics about saving fuel and road repair costs, and how this train line is so much better than the old overland one which is to be used for tourists if you visit. And what a visit it is.

We began with the informational power point, and then it was down to the Center of the Earth; the nice Swiss miners (who aren’t actually Swiss because as our guide said, the Swiss all work in banks. Mostly Germans down there. ) kitted us out in bright orange jumpsuits, heavy boots, hard hats (mine was blue for “Mechanical Engineer”), and an oxygen tank. I find it’s best to judge the quality of a learning experience by the number of safety precautions in place. Although, it should be mentioned that the mortality rate of this project is fantastically lower than all other projects.

We went down into the tunnel, looked around, saw some people working, and I kept looking for goblins. Surely in the bowels of the earth it would have been good to see some goblins. But they weren’t about, so lots of geologists and engineers. Roughly the same, right?

After the tunnel went out to see the town of Giornico, which was very cute, had seven churches, and a very odd museum. Basically a big block of concrete; I’ll have a photo album up soon to better explain.

On to Wednesday! Which was pretty average…So Thursday! Ah, yes, Thursday; that fateful day that I turned 21. For you see, I finally reached my birthday; as my mother’s e-mail said, the most exciting birthday venue I’ve had, although the funeral runs a close second. The day began with classes, not the finest of hours, but I took the opportunity afterwards to spoil myself with a bit of shopping at the outlet mall in the next town. For my evening entertainment, I went back to that town of Mendrisio to see the Maundy Thursday parade. Basically a procession highlighting Christ’s journey up the hill to Calvary.

We students were informed this even would be quite violent, and not the sort of thing one would take a small child to see. As Americans, this put us in mind of gratuitous and gory violence, blood filling the streets. Something from a Tarantino film, or maybe “300” seemed appropriate for that level of warning.

Culture shock sets in somewhere along the line. I expected blood, I got some pretty nifty costumes and 40 mounted figures. It would appear that Europe, the land of the Hundred Years War, the Thirty Years War, both World Wars, and the plague, can’t be bothered with a bit of fake blood. Alas and alack, I still had fun seeing the parade. It occurred to me later, actually during Easter Mass this morning, that that sort of display would almost never be seen in the States without hue and cry raised throughout the land about “Separation of Church and State” and “political correctness.” I love Europe.

After the parade I got out to the bar for my little celebration. The novelty of going out to the bar is somewhat lessened by being overseas, but it was still great good fun. The company was perfect, and it capped off a fairly decent birthday.

Friday I stopped off at the Lugano Easter Market, which I’m sorry to say was not half as cute as Prague’s, and went to Milan Saturday. Oh, dear, Milan was trouble. Beautiful day, wonderful people, but I couldn’t go into the Duomo. I had decided that morning to wear a little black jumper of mine. Admittedly it’s a bit sort, but I was wearing some thick black tights. Unfortunately the gentleman at the door after the security guard was nonplussed by my decency. The skirt was above the knee, so no observing God’s glory for me. My nylon-covered knees were just too much temptation. So, at the risk of being labeled the new Whore of Babylon, I retreated to some of the local shops. It seemed safer for all concerned, and I’ve already seen the Duomo.

That’s all the news from this week, other than mentioning that classes are kicking into high gear, so I have a busy week ahead. And I made it to Easter Mass this morning, so points for me. However, I’m flying out to Dublin Wednesday night, so that industriousness will have to be better than usual.

Happy Easter Everyone!

Flying Rats

It’s never mentioned in any of the guidebooks, but I’ve come to consider pigeons when I travel. This may seem an odd selection, compared to entertainment, gastronomical, financial, and safety considerations, but I think the pigeon populations are pretty critical. It’s pretty awful to be trying to enjoy the Duomo in Milan, and then have to duck to avoid the dive-bombing pigeon population.

The other main risk when visiting the Duomo is getting scammed by one of the many gentlemen trying to get you to feed the pigeons or to take a bracelet, but there are enough warning about that I should think. No one ever told me that I’d be dodging pigeons throughout Rome.

This came up as a discussion topic while in Prague, observing some remarkably well-behaved pigeons in Old Town Square. Every so often in the news back home in Northern Virginia there’s something about the deer or foxes or other wildlife becoming accustomed to humans, and so they wander closer and closer to human habitation and into roads, and are promptly and horribly killed. In the cities most wildlife is hard to find, but not the noble, filthy, disease-carrying flying rat. I’m not overly fond of pigeons. I’m especially not fond of pigeons that have no fear and have no problem with summoning all their friends and flying over a group of tourists, at an altitude of roughly seven feet, give or take, so everyone has to duck to avoid plague. And feathers.

In Prague, however, the pigeon population was a fraction of what I find in the more southern cities. Even better, they were polite; as polite as pigeons can be which means they kept their distance from me as I sat, quietly hoping I would drop a loaf of bread or other treat, and scurrying off when some other tourist fulfilled their needs. There were still moments of mass flight that would have made me nervous, if they hadn’t been so unobtrusive. Really, there’s nothing quite like it. I think I liked Prague all the more for its pigeons. It reflected the feeling of the city; politely waiting for the tourist to drop some cash, but not pushy about it. In Rome, everything gets shoved in your face, which is partly because of the layout of the city and its many, many sites, and the pigeons have no fear.

I go to London in a few months, remarkably enough in the spring. I recall the pigeons being pretty bad in the winter from previous visits, so I’m interested in what I’ll find this time, when I’m more aware. I imagine charmingly polite, and then shove me out of the way when I fail to do something correctly, like spell words with an excessive “u”.

Czech Mate

The first thing to mention is that I finally have internet access on my laptop. I have since learned how dangerous this is. I have spent two days enjoying all the pleasures of easy access internet; which means having Top Gear-fests with my fellow fans. And of course, paying attention to my schoolwork. Or at least I will when this episode ends.

Other than that, I’ve done it. I mentioned before that I was going off for Spring Break some time ago, and I did. I got all the way to Prague and back to the Villa in one piece. And all by myself no less. That means: I got to an unfamiliar airport (Lugano, with two terminals), onto an unfamiliar airline (SwissAir), made a connection at another unfamiliar airport (Zurich, and they speak German!), and off a plane and through customs in the Czech Republic. And then, I got onto a bus (with a lovely bruise to show off), onto the metro, and to the hostel without incident. And after a week, I did it all in reverse.

This means that I can now mark down March 1, 2008 as one of my personal milestones. I flew alone for the first time in my life. I always assumed my first solo flight would be something domestic, perhaps from DC to Chicago, or other appropriately familiar flight. Instead, I went across country lines, three unfamiliar languages, and managed it all by my lonesome. Quite an achievement, if I do say so myself.

And so, I got to Prague. I met up, somehow, with a friend from high school, and another from that awful camp from last summer. That was wonderful; to get away from all the people I see everyday. I have no problems with the group I’m studying with, but there’s something so lovely in getting away from everything, and seeing people I haven’t seen in ages.

Then, a week in Prague; let’s get on with the list:

March 1: Got to the airport in Lugano some several hours early. So I walked around for ages, then finally the stepstool was brought around for us to board the plane. Had two flights that bounced around horribly, so I landed in Prague feeling rather ill. Got to the hostel, checked in, and then I walked around town, attempting to orient myself with the city.

March 2: Met up with friend, and promptly went out for walking tours. Watched the Astronomical Clock with its spinning apostles, and then got tour of Josefov, the old Jewish Ghetto. It turns out Prague had one of the biggest and most significant Jewish populations in Europe…up until World War Two. Bit of rain, so a lovely lunch of goulash to warm up. Wandered about a bit more, poking heads into museums, and reeling from the cost. I should take a moment to mention that the exchange rate during my visit was 1USD to 16KZ (Czech krona); and nothing was available for 16kz. I tried to keep my purchases under the 100kz mark as much as possible, unless absolutely necessary. Ah, the life of a student. In the evening, went on a ghost tour. Friend and I had some New Yorker tourists join us for that, which was no end of fun.

Aside: The guillotine was actually invented by the Scottish. I believe it was called “The Maiden”, but the concept of getting your head sliced off by a large blade powered by gravity originated with the Scots. The main feature of the guillotine was that it allowed the victim to lie down “comfortably”, while the Scottish version required that person to kneel. This became a topic of discussion with the New Yorker history teacher who seemed to know everything. I, however, have an interest in history, and especially the history of the British Isles. And I sometimes watch the History Channel.

After the Ghost Tour, which was far from terrifying, friend and I got appetizers at a TGIFridays. Now, before I am mocked for going to Central Europe and seeking the most American cuisine possible, understand that I have spent two months in Europe, and all I want is a cheeseburger, buffalo wings, and most of all, Chipotle. Those people responsible for fetching me from Dulles in May take note. Chipotle.

March 3: Out in the morning to do a tour of the synagogues we had glanced at the day before. This meant a full three hours plus of the synagogues, and the Ceremony Hall, and the Old Jewish Cemetery. At the cemetery friend and I were wandering behind a group of elderly French tourists, and followed by some student Italian tourists, both Jewish. Understandable, but then we got to the Rabbi Low grave. Rabbi Low is a bit of a big deal, and friend and I had come to that understanding. That didn’t mean we were prepared for the French OAPs to begin praying over the grave. Being gentiles, friend and I were suitably concerned, and feeling awkward. We finally took the chance to make our escape after dropping our stones on the Rabbi’s grave for luck. After our tour we paused for a Chinese lunch, then into the National Library to see the Gigas Codex, aka the Devil’s Bible. Really wonderful actually. I enjoyed that exhibit immensely. Then the overload of information set in, and it was time for a coffee break at the Charles Bridge. Bit more wandering and poling heads in shops before heading back to the hostel. We’d made some new friends, and the group of us went out for karaoke at some club, where camp friend found me.

March 4: Happy Birthday to Older Brother. The night had caught up with us, so high school friend and I took a later morning, and then promptly walked up a very steep hill to see Prague’s version of the Eiffel Tower and the Hunger Wall. We wound our way towards Nove Mesto (Old Town) through Mala Strana (Castle District). We paused for more Chinese for lunch, and then peeked at the Kafka museum gift shop and the Lennon Wall. We attempted to see the grave of Tycho Brahe, but the church he’s at is closed to visitors, and it was raining, and we were tired….so we went to see Sweeney Todd.

March 5: I wandered Nove Mesto for a bit, and then wandered across the Charles Bridge and up the hill to see Prague Castle, the largest castle complex in the world. Friend and I made it in time to watch the changing of the guard. Fun little ceremony, but would have been better without the snow. Recognizing how cold we were, friend and I retreated to the Lobkowitz Palace for lunch and touring the museum. The Princely Collection at the Lobkowitz Palace is a fairly new collection, recently returned to the Lobkowitz family, and put on display. It’s pretty good, with free audio tours for the public, but there’s something very odd about Americans telling you “Welcome to my family’s collection!” After that it was out to see St. Vitus Cathedral, and I’m fairly sure I saw the saint’s bones. The tower was closed, so we finally decided to head back to Nove Mesto. We had some time to kill, so friend and I visited the very good, however small, Mucha Museum. I really do like Art Nouveau, ever since visiting Glasgow with all its Charles Rennie Mackintosh stuff a few years ago. After that it was time to see some Black Light Theatre, and its production of “Faust”. Let’s just say, it was an adventure.

March 6: Busy day! Visited the train station to figure out tickets for friend, then back up to the castle to see St. George’s Basilica, Golden Lane, and the National Gallery. After lunch at Lobkowitz, out and down into St. Nicholas Church, then back across the river to see the afternoon showing of “Don Giovanni” done by marionettes.

Aside: Prague is the city Mozart was living in when he completed his opera “Don Giovanni”. He was so enchanted by the city and its people; he rewarded them with the premiere of that opera. And now it’s done daily by puppets.

Ran some errands before friend popped of to Poland (how lovely that we can say things like that), and I was left to amuse myself.

March 7: Slept in a bit, as much as possible in a hostel setting, and then set off. I went back up to the Castle to try for the Old Palace, but it was closed for the day. Some great to-so was going on up there, with lots of big black cars with flags on them and extra soldiers, but it was far too cold to stick around. I finally left, paused for some coffee at Starbucks, and then climb the Astronomical Clock. Wonderful views of the city from up there, and a chance to see the tourists gather to watch the hour. After that I did some souvenir shopping, and finally went up to see the National Museum. Cute building, but the collection of dead animals was astounding. Not the best museum I’ve been too, but impressive to see that many dead things. And the room of fish only served to remind me that I really don’t see how people can eat those awful things. Got a dinner of Czech kielbasa off a roadside stand, and wound my way back home to pack.

March 8: Paused at the Easter markets on my way back to the airport, and then got home….somehow. And that was it really. I got to Prague, I had a relaxing trip. I saw wonderful people, a lovely city, and didn’t come home exhausted, like the Italy sojourn.