old vs. new

Spanish Steps

What a bummer to wake up to another brilliant day in Italy. Mid 80s and dazzlingly sunny. I could come up with tons of cliches about sun coming through the leaves, the vibrance of the streets and the smells of cappuccinos and pastries but I will refrain because I might actually gag myself from the cheesiness. Still, it's wonderful and deserves the platitude.

Once again at my morning cafe (where there is free internet!) trying and failing to have a legitimate conversation with the barista (did you know this title applies to a male as well as female? Just looked it up so I'm sure.). It is funny. Having everyone I encounter speak to me in Italian I find myself attempting to use it myself in my reply. However, unfortunately for some reason it keeps coming out in Danish. Yup. I could hardly speak the language while I studied there, yet much to my embarrassment,  it has apparently come back to me and pops out whenever I am trying to be suave.



-- Un alto cappuccino, bella?  (Another cappuccio?)

-- Nej tak. Tak for mad og drikke.   (No thanks. Thanks for the food and drink.)

I mean, seriously?!

At least, even though the attempt to blend in linguistically has failed miserably, I am starting to get my bearings. Walking all around the city makes you realize how close everything is. However, lovely map I purchased is still an necessity. Of course, the simple purchasing of this said map was an experience in itself. I sauntered into the bookstore (which I found on my own!) and found a great fold-out map book with a map specific to each neighborhood. (Little did I know-- thanks to my keen observation skills-- that I was purchasing a book written only in Italian. Keeps way-finding interesting...) I paid for it with my brand new euros and promptly turned around to leave and ran straight into the glass door. Bang.

-- Aye! Aye! Senorita, attenzione! Sta bene? Attenzione!

Needless to say, my flattened nose and I got out of there asap. Stupid American.

This language barrier is not always a problem. The younger waiters seem to love to start up a conversation using their Italian charisma to try to charm the unknowing American girl eating alone. It seems that eating alone is something completely unseen in this gregarious country.

-- Aye, bella. Why you eating alone?


-- Oh, just traveling around by myself. 


-- You married, bella?


-- No.

-- Boyfriend?

(smile and suddenly am very interested in my insalada.)

-- My name is Massimo. I take you after work? We meet at the club? You have beautiful eyes.

(I'm wearing sunglasses.)

Alright, enough with Italian "culture" and more on adventures. Took my brilliant and perplexing map book and headed to the Spanish steps. Talk about tourists! There were so many people there I felt like taking a shower afterward. A girl came up to me asking me to take her picture. She too was very concerned I was traveling alone and insisted on taking a picture of me as well. It is an very "Where's Waldo" image but the first to prove that I'm actually here and not finding pictures on the internet. So, there ya go.

Right across from the Spanish steps is what can only be described as the "Magnificent Mile" of Rome. Gucci, Prada, and so many other names that even someone like me could recognize. To make my sister proud I did go into Prada. The woman at the door gave a look of disapproval at my sad attempt to dress like an Italian but let me in anyway. It was difficult to pass up the 478 euro shoes ($672 in US dollars!), especially since they were 30% off, but somehow I managed. Sorry, Kate.

Piazza del Popolo

Anyway, I finally made it to the Piazza del Popolo yesterday afternoon. This plaza has twin churches designed by Bernini. Despite the piazza's name, the churches were closed to the public, but I think I could draw their floor plans by heart (thank you Peter Eisenman) and made me starting considering a new tattoo (kidding Mom). It was cool seeing something that you have studied so intently close enough to actually touch it (maybe that's why they don't let people inside... hmm).

Then it was off to the Maxxi modern art museum designed by Zaha Hadid. Now, I must stay that I categorically don't like Ms. Hadid. I think she is a terrible lecturer and her theories on architecture seem to disregard the common human experience of urban space; however, every museum of hers I have visited I have thoroughly enjoyed. The space was crazy but definitely created open galleries that featured the art very well. The courtyard was left undesigned and is being used for the YAP (Young Architects Program) as a similar design space to the MOMA's PS1. Up and coming architects submit proposals for what to do with the space each year and the winning design is installed. It was really cool and a great contrast to the nearby piazzas of the 1800s.

Maxxi lobby

Alright, I am heading out since this nosey barista keeps reading over my shoulder trying to see if I am writing about him, which of course, I now am. I was kind at first but now I am about to punch him in the face. Dude, stop sitting down at my table and trying to "conversation me" and go make me another cappuccino!

PS- pleased to report only 2 blisters yesterday. Think I might win the shoe battle after all.

Maxxi reception desk

courtyard by stARTT

Inside the Maxxi

Piazza del Popolo

clueless traveler

Italy.

I mean, I've heard about it but you think that a place cannot possibly live up to its reputation. I must say, this does.

first airbnb experience

Ever since my arrival at the airport, I have tried my best to make this experience stressful. Definitely almost lost my luggage. Arrived and had no cell service, no map on how to get to the place I'm staying, a calling card that cost a fortune and had 10 minutes on it, no Euros, no idea which train to get on and pretty much had no plan whatsoever. Luckily I jumped on the correct train at the last second and by the time I arrived at the stop I had international texting which allowed me to find the great room I had booked on airbnb.com (if you have never used this site it is absolutely fabulous-- sorry for the plug). The room is decked out in bright red IKEA (yes, the Swedes have infiltrated every country, those Scandinavian geniuses) and is air conditioned-- a definite plus. The bathroom is similar to that on a sailboat, complete with a 2'x2' shower and toilet so close to the side wall that turing around to reach for the toilet paper is definitely not happening. (I am very intrigued by the corner-door shower, though. I have to remember this for future architectural planning.)

awesome corner door

A late night pizza at a pizzeria I found by accident definitely melted any remaining travel tension. By the way, that plate was definitely FULL of pizza. Yup. Ate that much. Just remember: 24 hours of traveling earns you the right to pig out.

Yesterday I got up and putzed around Rome. It is crazy how intense and relaxing this city is at the same time. The drivers live up to their reputation of being fast and ruthless. A stop sign is merely a suggestion. Of course I loudly advertise my American citizenship by smiling and waving a "thank you" every time a car stops for me. The Italians saunter in front of the oncoming cars with complete cool-ness and disregard. They would never belittle themselves and wave. Stupid Americans.

The thing about Rome is that it is crawling with tourists. From the clearly Asian with typical umbrellas and fanny-packs to more Swedes than you can imagine (just what Italy needs- more beautiful people...), the tourists are easily identified. The locals are very patient and seem to enjoy showing off their English. It helps that I whip out a watercolor kit every time I sit down at a restaurant. So far I have gotten free gelato, free local cherries and the card of a obscure artist who wanted me to go online and check him out right away. It seems that restaurant owners like the idea of forever being recorded in someone's sketchbook.

entry into my room

I have found that I much prefer escaping the masses of disoriented "globetrotters" by stumbling down the smaller streets that lead to shops tucked away between apartments, yards paved with cobblestones and moped parking. I love the paper shops the most. It has been challenging to resist the temptation of a finely-crafted new sketchbook, but my first one is barely started. That and I'm pretty sure my rapidly depleting budget does not allow for such liberal spending. They are beautiful though and I should be congratulated for my restraint, just for the record.

It is crazy how, even when aimlessly dawdling down hidden streets, you turn a corner and find a building you have had crammed down your throat in architectural history courses. I am embarrassed to say that I was roaming around a piazza taking pictures of the tops of buildings that had sun on them making the colors irresistible (I'm serious! It was lovely) that it took me a good 20 minutes before I realized that the Pantheon was right behind me. Thankfully no one from Yale knows about this blog otherwise I would be ousted immediately.

So far the only unfortunate circumstance has been my shoes, which I thoughtfully purchased for the sole purpose of walking long hours during my travels. Despite constantly wearing them pre-trip in order to break them in, and the ignoring the 20 blisters I got each time I did--trying to convince myself that eventually they would learn to love my feet and stop punishing them so harshly-- they seem to be dedicated to laugh at me as I limp around attempting to get my foot in a position so the leather stops rubbing open foot flesh. I think I might have beat them though! This morning I cut off the offending leather straps with a travel x-acto blade and now have shoes that, if they fail, will have the last word by forcing me to buy new ones in this expensive city. Good lord.

Alright, now that I've finished my second cappuccino (did you know that lattes here have no espresso?! What is the point of that?!) it is off to another day. Hopefully this one will include fewer blisters.

pantheon and plaza 

the beginning

Wow.

Can't believe I'm here, that I'm blogging and that I'm actually wandering around in Europe alone as if I have ANY business being here! Whodda thunk?

In typical "Ozburn" fashion I had several last minute changes of plan and am now traveling solo. I have decided to completely abandon my normal control freak personality in which I am over-organized and 100% anal-retentive and be a clueless wander, hoping things work out and pretending to not stress out to the point of a shingles outbreak (don't laugh. it's happened before). My lovely mother has graciously opted to abandon precious Bethany time to participate on a Yale-funded adventure through the Middle East. While this is my third time to this part of the world it is her first and needless to say if there wasn't the tempting 10 days in Greece at the beginning of the trip not sure if she would be as willing. Thankfully my Roselund-Ozburn heritage has groomed me to be flexible in rapidly changing plans and if they don't happen accidentally to seek them out and create them myself! Haha.

So I basically have to decide what I am doing with this blog. As far as I see it I have three options:

a) write about purely academic and architectural events and experiences (my original and "intellectual" intention)

b) use this as another travel journal in which I record my adventures, both architectural and personal, and end up with a wonderful record yet at the same time completely obliterate my intense conviction against all sappy internet sharing and creepy world-wide big brother connectivity (groan...)

c) start this at the request of my mother but abandon it mid-stream because I just can't handle it (ha!)

Hmmm...

I guess in the spirit of academic recording I should start by saying that the goal of this trip is to physically experience and document cities that have been destroyed by war and have at one point established a Green Line-- a line of demarcation between two hostile and opposing forces. It is usually established during a civil war between religious groups and results in a city divided into two homogenous sections with a street or buffer zone as the physical boundary. This area invariably gets destroyed by bombs, snipers and fighting in general and leaves a scar on the city that takes years to reconstruct.

Beirut, Lebanon had one of these during the Lebanese civil war and Nicosia, Cyprus still has theirs after a failed attempt to dismantle it in 2004. I'll be mapping these "lines", taking pictures of what is being rebuilt after the destruction, and studying how these spaces that are drawn on a map as a thin pencil line are manifested physically in width and cultural prejudice. You know, just everyday, general, easy tasks... sheesh.

The original trip included Syria and Cairo but thanks to Yale's needless worry about trifling things such as "safety", "liability" and "unstable political climate" (the weenies!) my trip now begins with a strenuous tour through Rome and Greek islands. Oh, the hardships of life...

Rome is a personal indulgence since I've never been, but Greece is part of the study as I will be looking at cities designed and founded after the end of WWII by the Greek architect and city planner Konstantinos Doxiadis. He went on to do city plans for Beirut and many other Middle Easter cities and my original research proposal was to record the implementation and current day status of those plans (see left). Regardless of this, I'm sure my time in Greece will be less focused on cities established after the occupation and more on the blue water, white sand and baklava. Academia at its best.

Ok, not sure how long these post thingies are supposed to be but I feel like that is enough for now, although it is hard to want to get up from this cafe. Tree lined streets, cafes with umbrellas and great cappuccinos do that to ya I guess. Ciao.

(Am I allowed to say that or is it too typical-American tourist?-- insert "when in Rome" comment here along with a generous eye-roll)