A few days before leaving for Italy I nervously told my worry prone mother what I was planning on doing my last weekend here in Europe.
"Mom, I think I'm going to go skydiving in Interlaken, Switz..."
"HELL NO!" she screamed, not even allowing me enough time to finish my now crushed dream.
As I turned and sulked away like a sad puppy I remembered that my mom was a softy when it came to me and when the time came I knew she wouldn't want me to miss out on such an amazing opportunity.
Fast forward to weeks later, this past Saturday morning, and there I was, in head to toe orange space cadet gear facing the helicopter I was soon to succumb to. As a foreign feeling of fear, anxiousness and excitement seeped through my veins my skydive instructor, Tony, (who I was to jump tandem with) beckoned me over to the helicopter door. Casually, as if skydiving was as easy as baking a pie, he hopped right on in and slapped his hand on his lap for me to sit as if I were a wide-eyed child hopping on Santa's lap. As the small helicopters propellers started to turn, so did my heart. It wasn't pumping, it wasn't beating, but it was dealing with my uncontrolled feeling of fear and thoughts of "am I really about to JUMP out of a helicopter at 15,000ft?!" and "ooooooh nooooo, I should have listened to my mom's incessant 'hell no's!'" repeating in my boggled mind.
As my heart continued to react to my ping pong thoughts my head was suddenly pushed against the chopper window, my nose like a squished bug. Tony had decided to look down below and since I was now tightly strapped on top of him did whatever he did whether I wanted to or not. I for once got a glimpse of what it felt like to be a siamese twin, yikes. As my now pig looking nose remained against the glass I decided I should probably take a cue from Tony and look down. At 15,000 ft above ground, Switzerland looks like a far away dream world. The two lakes on either side of Interlaken beamed an electric blue as the vast green grass surrounding them seemed to simply frost over the land. The endless Swiss Alps were mere grass sprinkled and snow capped Hershey Kisses's compared to my height. The small villages along the valleys looked like Monopoly pieces that I could simply reach down and pick up. I finally knew what one meant by "a breathtaking view".
Suddenly, my nose snapped back like a rubber band as Tony pushed my well "our" body back and casually slid the chopper door open. Before I knew it my feet were dangling off the edge, one amongst the cotton ball clouds.
"Are you ready?" Tony screamed amongst the blazing propellers. I felt as if I were in Apocalypse Now preparing to decend into battle.
Before I could even respond my body was arched against Tony's as we full forced free fell into the abyss below. The adrenaline rush soaked through my body as my cheeks flapped back like a happy dog hanging out a car window. My mouth hung wide open as I screamed bloody murder but the deafning sound of the vortex of wind encapsulating my body deafened any sound. As a new feeling of excitement continued to flow all around me a sudden jerk pulled me up like a puppet and my heart skipped a million beats, the parachute had opened. A cheshire car grin exploded on my face as I realized what I had just done, survived and was still doing. Once I landed I found that same grin still glued to my face as I screamed "I want to do this again!" I'm sure that's just what my mom would love to hear...
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
A Trip Up the Duomo
After 5 or so weeks here in Florence I finally realized I had not been to the most important sight in the entire city, the Duomo. So, after informing a few friends of the horrible crime we had committed I finally went with them and climbed the steps to the top of the Duomo. Here I have photos documenting our amazing excursion to the top.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
A Hidden Florence Fashion Gem
The city of Florence contains several major fashion designer boutiques. Every time I walk by the shiny glass windows of Gucci, Prada and Salvatore Ferragamo I frown in despair as I realize the luxurious pieces are simply a mirage. Luckily, my frown quickly turned into a hopeful grin when Lisa Simon and I stumbled upon ITD Boutique right around the corner from our apartment on Via de Serragli. The quaint yet trendy corner store is filled with stylish and affordable clothes. Despite the great fashions, the real charm is found in its owners, two amiable and down to earth fashion designers.
Rene Thuber and her boyfriend recently opened up ITD Boutique just this past November. Rene, who is actually American, is a charming thirty year old brunette woman with big brown eyes and an eager voice. It was obvious her Italian boyfriend, who unfortunately spoke very little English, was used to having Rene as his translator. Taller than Rene, his dark short cut, chic designer glasses, button up and tight jeans screamed “I know fashion”. Through the kind and professional voice of Rene she told us how she started off in America as a handbag fashion designer and actually had her own line in the States after meeting and collaborating with her boyfriend there. Unfortunately, after three years of success the economy crashed and they lost their line. Nevertheless, they still kept their passion to create unique accessories brewing.
“We had been to places like The Mall of America too many times and wanted to create accessories, particularly shoes, which would appeal to women and actually sell,” Rene said.
As that passion lingered in her voice she continued on to explain that to them the only logical place to successfully manufacture and sell shoes was Italy. Here, in Florence they acquired an agent and began to manufacture their line of clothing and shoes. After running for 8 months strong they hope they will continue to find happiness and success here in Florence.
After 5 minutes of talking it was fascinating to discover that even in a time of crisis, great opportunities and choices can emerge. I can only hope that shopper friendly ITD Boutique retains its success among the Chanel’s and Gucci’s of Florence.
Rene Thuber and her boyfriend recently opened up ITD Boutique just this past November. Rene, who is actually American, is a charming thirty year old brunette woman with big brown eyes and an eager voice. It was obvious her Italian boyfriend, who unfortunately spoke very little English, was used to having Rene as his translator. Taller than Rene, his dark short cut, chic designer glasses, button up and tight jeans screamed “I know fashion”. Through the kind and professional voice of Rene she told us how she started off in America as a handbag fashion designer and actually had her own line in the States after meeting and collaborating with her boyfriend there. Unfortunately, after three years of success the economy crashed and they lost their line. Nevertheless, they still kept their passion to create unique accessories brewing.
“We had been to places like The Mall of America too many times and wanted to create accessories, particularly shoes, which would appeal to women and actually sell,” Rene said.
As that passion lingered in her voice she continued on to explain that to them the only logical place to successfully manufacture and sell shoes was Italy. Here, in Florence they acquired an agent and began to manufacture their line of clothing and shoes. After running for 8 months strong they hope they will continue to find happiness and success here in Florence.
After 5 minutes of talking it was fascinating to discover that even in a time of crisis, great opportunities and choices can emerge. I can only hope that shopper friendly ITD Boutique retains its success among the Chanel’s and Gucci’s of Florence.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Nick Verreos: a step above fashion
The minute I met Nick Verreos in the lobby of my apartment with his Gucci suitcase I knew I was going to love him. As two other girls and I spotted the fashionably dressed and familiar Greek-looking man at the Mannaioni we exclaimed, “That’s him, that’s the guy!” Casually, Nick turned, flashed his snow white teeth and yelled, “hey there girls! How are you?” as if he had known us for years.
My love affair with Nick continued that evening with dinner at the Gould. Upon realizing I was going to be sitting at the same table as him I started to become extremely nervous. I religiously watch the TV program Project Runway that he was a contestant on and I’m incredibly familiar with him and his fashion designs. Also, I’d seen him interview on the red carpet and knew he was the far opposite of shy. I had never met anyone considered remotely famous before and my always nervous self was scared of becoming star struck or even worse, tongue tied. However, little did I know, I had nothing to worry about. From the moment Nick sat down at the table he was the same affable man I met in the Mannaioni lobby. His plate was full of pasta and bread as he exclaimed, “Honey, I’d be happy with a corn dog!”
Quickly, the topic of dinner discussion turned to boys and clothes. Nick started to tell the table about the boy in front of him in line at the train station that afternoon and how his exceptionally hairy neck was just the scariest thing he‘d ever seen.
Of course, my repulsed self screamed, “oh no, gross, nasty!”
“Oh my gosh, girl, I know right?” he laughed back in reply as he sat up and slapped my hand as if we were old friends reminiscing. “I just wanted to take a shaver right then and there or tell his friend he was with to shave it while he was sleeping!”
Laughter ensued during dinner as Nick cracked jokes about college boys still wearing American Eagle polos, flip flops and pooka shell necklaces out at night. The girls eagerly agreed as he continued to tell us we could do better making myself, and I’m sure everyone one else, like him even more. As we continued to gossip he repeatedly used his now infamous high five and exclaimed, “I know girl, right? You are hilarious!” as we all pitched in our unabashed opinions on men.
A celebrity that was humble, funny and relatable? I was hooked.
My Nick journey continued the next day at the Polimoda International Institute Fashion Design and Marketing. Even though it was early in the morning and extremely warm out, he looked impeccable. Straight out of a fashion magazine he wore a crisp short-sleeved white button down adorned with a lively lime green and sky blue striped tie and snuggly fit black designer jeans cinched with an YSL belt. This was all topped off with silver metallic tennis shoes that looked like they could have been from a designer label in outer space. Nick’s outfit perfectly complimented his olive complexion (that I later learned was from his Greek father and Venezuelan mother) and short black hair that connected to his perfectly thick sculpted beard and always smiling face.
Despite from being hilarious and a great dresser, Nick is an extremely intelligent man. Several Ivy League schools accepted him and he graduated with honors in Political Science from UCLA. However, Nick knew his true passion was designing and as he told our Journalism class he followed his motto of “no shoulda, woulda ,coulda’s” I was truly and unexpectedly inspired.
My love affair with Nick continued that evening with dinner at the Gould. Upon realizing I was going to be sitting at the same table as him I started to become extremely nervous. I religiously watch the TV program Project Runway that he was a contestant on and I’m incredibly familiar with him and his fashion designs. Also, I’d seen him interview on the red carpet and knew he was the far opposite of shy. I had never met anyone considered remotely famous before and my always nervous self was scared of becoming star struck or even worse, tongue tied. However, little did I know, I had nothing to worry about. From the moment Nick sat down at the table he was the same affable man I met in the Mannaioni lobby. His plate was full of pasta and bread as he exclaimed, “Honey, I’d be happy with a corn dog!”
Quickly, the topic of dinner discussion turned to boys and clothes. Nick started to tell the table about the boy in front of him in line at the train station that afternoon and how his exceptionally hairy neck was just the scariest thing he‘d ever seen.
Of course, my repulsed self screamed, “oh no, gross, nasty!”
“Oh my gosh, girl, I know right?” he laughed back in reply as he sat up and slapped my hand as if we were old friends reminiscing. “I just wanted to take a shaver right then and there or tell his friend he was with to shave it while he was sleeping!”
Laughter ensued during dinner as Nick cracked jokes about college boys still wearing American Eagle polos, flip flops and pooka shell necklaces out at night. The girls eagerly agreed as he continued to tell us we could do better making myself, and I’m sure everyone one else, like him even more. As we continued to gossip he repeatedly used his now infamous high five and exclaimed, “I know girl, right? You are hilarious!” as we all pitched in our unabashed opinions on men.
A celebrity that was humble, funny and relatable? I was hooked.
My Nick journey continued the next day at the Polimoda International Institute Fashion Design and Marketing. Even though it was early in the morning and extremely warm out, he looked impeccable. Straight out of a fashion magazine he wore a crisp short-sleeved white button down adorned with a lively lime green and sky blue striped tie and snuggly fit black designer jeans cinched with an YSL belt. This was all topped off with silver metallic tennis shoes that looked like they could have been from a designer label in outer space. Nick’s outfit perfectly complimented his olive complexion (that I later learned was from his Greek father and Venezuelan mother) and short black hair that connected to his perfectly thick sculpted beard and always smiling face.
Despite from being hilarious and a great dresser, Nick is an extremely intelligent man. Several Ivy League schools accepted him and he graduated with honors in Political Science from UCLA. However, Nick knew his true passion was designing and as he told our Journalism class he followed his motto of “no shoulda, woulda ,coulda’s” I was truly and unexpectedly inspired.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Barcelona!
After a long, long, long day of travel I have finally made it back alive from my weekend in Barcelona, Spain. I never thought I would ride a bus, fly a plane, ride another bus and then take a train twice within one weekend. Hopefully this means I burned off all that was gained from my excessive, yet delicious, Paella binges.
Four years ago when I was in high school I took a 3 1/2 week trip around Spain with my Spanish teacher and fellow classmates. My memories from that trip are a little hazy but I still remember how much I loved the country itself and the fact that I (of course, with my luck) got a stomach flu while in Barcelona. With that said, I didn't really remember much of the city except that I barfed during a tour of the Olympic stadium. What a great memory...Anyways, I didn't realize how much I loved Barcelona until this past weekend when I experienced the city in a different light. The city itself is huge and the main street, La Rambla, where our hostel was located off of, was beautiful and lined with huge trees that towered overhead. The stone buildings and apartments that lined the street were gorgeous as well and I imagined myself easily living in one of them. But, most if all I loved the fact that such a busy and crowded city was located right next to a beach (that was actually man-made for the Olympics). Shopping and tanning in one? I couldn't ask for more.
As you can tell, I loved Barcelona and I'm jealous of my friends back home who are going to study a full semester there this year. It's an exciting place with delicious food (gazpacho, paella and more) and I could ramble on about it forever but the long day of traveling has killed me and my bed is screaming my name.
Adios!
Four years ago when I was in high school I took a 3 1/2 week trip around Spain with my Spanish teacher and fellow classmates. My memories from that trip are a little hazy but I still remember how much I loved the country itself and the fact that I (of course, with my luck) got a stomach flu while in Barcelona. With that said, I didn't really remember much of the city except that I barfed during a tour of the Olympic stadium. What a great memory...Anyways, I didn't realize how much I loved Barcelona until this past weekend when I experienced the city in a different light. The city itself is huge and the main street, La Rambla, where our hostel was located off of, was beautiful and lined with huge trees that towered overhead. The stone buildings and apartments that lined the street were gorgeous as well and I imagined myself easily living in one of them. But, most if all I loved the fact that such a busy and crowded city was located right next to a beach (that was actually man-made for the Olympics). Shopping and tanning in one? I couldn't ask for more.
As you can tell, I loved Barcelona and I'm jealous of my friends back home who are going to study a full semester there this year. It's an exciting place with delicious food (gazpacho, paella and more) and I could ramble on about it forever but the long day of traveling has killed me and my bed is screaming my name.
Adios!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
An American in Venice
The morning we left for Venice I awoke to my usual irritating (and creepy) European cell phone alarm repeatedly chanting “time to wake up, time to wake up”. Annoyed as I was I knew I had an unforgettable weekend ahead to explore the streets well, in this case canals, of beautiful Venice. Upon our arrival I could barely lug my clunky L.L. Bean duffel bag from the dock onto the water taxi. However, to my (enormously pleasant) surprise three kind Italian men proceeded to successively take my hands and help me “gracefully” enter. I couldn’t believe the effortless chivalry of the Italian men and hoped the American boys would pick up a few tips to bring back home. After settling into the sauna that was the water taxi it finally hit me that I was on a water taxi. Venice had no cars and the main forms of transportation there included gondolas, boats and walking. Compared to America, let alone my temporary residence of Firenze, I couldn’t believe what a difference modes of transportation could make in a lifestyle. Immediately I realized Venice truly was an old treasure with a different way of life. It’s a way I’m not used to in bustling America yet had no trouble enjoying.
The 4th of the July was a day I’m sure many Italians weren’t ready to experience by 40 loud Americans on the island of Lido outside of Venice. Marking our territory on its striking beaches we blasted an I-Pod with Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” and ran around with an American flag. We had arrived. After the scorching heat quickly attacked my body I ran into the water with a Coca-Cola Light in hand. As I bobbed in the water holding up my can I noticed three young Italian men to my right exclaiming, “What is she doing?” as the other one replied laughing, “she looks like the Statue of Liberty with that can in her hand!”. Lucky for me, I understand a fair amount of Italian. I couldn’t help but laugh knowing I somewhat represented America in Italy on the 4th of July and the Italian men didn't even know.
Although I loved the ancient beauty of Venice I still reminisce about the magical island of Burano. The quaint and quiet island resembled a town out of my old storybooks. A five year-old would think he or she were entering an enchanted island. Petite pastel colored homes lined its delicate stone streets creating an Easter egg reflection in its surrounding waters. Every time I gazed from a bridge down to the water below I believed I was looking at an actual watercolor painting. The island contained few people who had a charming and quiet aura amongst them. Naturally, as my friends and I roamed we found ourselves in front of a gelato stand with two Euros in hand. As I enjoyed its sweet and sticky deliciousness a warm yet soothing breeze embraced me and I remember thinking, “Hey, I could live here”.
My lovely weekend in Venice was one to remember and I hope to return someday.
Ciao for now!
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