The last time I wrote, which was about two weeks ago, Las Fallas, a festival that takes place here in Valencia had just ended. Since then, so much has happened that I am not even sure if I remember all of it. Oh well, we'll make a go at it anyways.
Three days after Fallas ended, my dad, Ms. Mumper (my math teacher in highschool), and Eric's family came out to Valencia for the week. Eric and I went out to the train station Sabbath morning to meet them, and after about fifteen minutes of waiting, which seemed like an eternity, they popped up out of the metro stop. I was the first to recognize my dad as we were sitting at the entrance of the train station. It wasn't because of his beard, but because of what he was wearing; a bright orange t-shirt that said "CRESENT CITY CALIFORNIA", and shorts with mid-knee socks. Now, in Europe, Spain in particular, t-shirts are fairly rare on the streets, but even rarer than t-shirts are shorts with socks that come up mid-knee. He hadn't taken five steps out of the metro stop that I took just one look in his direction knew it was him- even before I got a good look at his face.
Early on Sunday morning, Ms. Mumper, my dad and I took a taxi to the airport and caught a flight to Pisa. When we arrived, we took a city bus straight to the tower. Ms. Mumper and my dad already organized our tickets to climb up the tower, which is a good thing because I never would have payed that much to do it if I were on my own. We climbed the tower, and it was one of the weirdest experiences I have ever had because when I was on one side of the tower, it felt like I was almost climbing downhill, but once we got to the other side, the slope was about twice as much as the stairs. It was somewhat of a mind bending experience. Once we reached the top, we took pictures, and came down. Short stay on top. Just as we were taking our last pictures, a man came and told us very assertively that we needed to come down. He wasn't having a very good day I suppose.
After we went to the tower, we went inside some of the other buildings like the baptistry, the cathedral, and the cemetery. Inside the cemetery, we saw the grave of the famous (in the math world anyway) Leonardo Fibonacci, the man responsible for 0+1=1, 1+1=2, 2+1=3, 3+2=5, 5+3=8, 8+5=13, etc. We left the colossal plaza of tourists carrying our suitcases (ironic, isn't it?), and went to get lunch at a pizza and gelato shop. I would like to propose that on this trip, we kept the gelato industry in the black and then some.
After lunch, we got on a train and headed to Florence. On arrival, we found our hotel, dropped our stuff off, and headed to see the Accademia, home of the David by Michelangelo. While my dad and I went into the museum, Ms. Mumper went shopping and wondering around... I think. Going to art museums with my dad is so much fun because neither of us are the type of people that can spend hours and hours in an art museum. The only difference between us is that when I go to an art museum, I usually walk through every room fairly quickly, look at all of the different works, and usually select a favorite or two by the end. My dad on the other hand likes to see the big stuff. We walked into the museum, walked through a section on classical instruments that we both found fairly interesting, walked straight to the David, did a once over of David, and hit the exit. I had already seen the Academia, so I was fine with that, I was just a little surprised that we spent all told about fifteen minutes in the Accademia.
We walked around Florence a bit more, and stopped for dinner and gelato. Can't forget the gelato. What made me laugh this whole trip was that Ms. Mumper insisted that we go to all of these different gelato shops for all of these different flavors; she knew exactly which gelato shop had that specific flavor she likes, and we stopped at pretty much every single one, even if it had only been just a little while before since we last had gelato. Well, "When in Rome (and Florence)" I guess.
We had done a lot of walking that day, so as it was night time, I told Ms. Mumper that I would like to go to the Michelangelo monument on the hill in Florence, and she said she would go too, but dad was done- his shoes looked like they were done too. So Ms. Mumper and I left my dad on a bench and climbed the hill. When we got there, the monument was pretty cool- a life sized replica of David in Bronze- but what was cooler than that was the view. We could see the Duomo, the Medici Palace, and another church rising from the skyline of Florence. My camera couldn't even come close to capturing it, but I tried anyways.
The next day, we walked around a bit more, and headed out to the SDA campus in Florence. The campus was very very nice, and the people were great as well. Ms. Mumper met up with some of the people there that she had been with the summer before, and we also met some others as well.
After our tour of the school, we headed back into the city, and Dad and I got on a train for Rome. Ms. Mumper was going to stay and get together after classes with some of her professors...I think. As we got to the ticket machine, there was a train for 34 euros, and a train for 17 euros. Of course we weren't thinking at all at that point, so we bought two seats for the train for 17 euros. That doesn't sound so bad, right? Yeah, it didn't sound too bad to us either. The ride from Florence to Rome should have taken about 2-2 1/2 hours. However, since we bought the cheaper train, two hours later, we looked at the map, and discovered that we weren't even half way there yet. One clue that might have been helpful before hand was the fact that the train was making stops at every single station between Florence and Rome; every single one. But in its own way, it was kind of a blessing; we got an extra long chance to rest our feet and talk.
When we arrived in Rome, it was about three hours later than we were planning on, so all of our plans of seeing what we wanted to see before everything closed were out the window. However, we bought our metro passes, and went up to the Spanish steps. We just started making our way down from the Spanish steps to the Pantheon, the Trevi fountain, past the capital building and the forum, and made our way down to the Colosseum. Maybe it was a blessing that our train took more than twice as long as we expected it to, because instead of rushing to two or three things inside of a few hours, we just took our time, walked slowly, and enjoyed it.
The next day, our only full day in Rome, we had a lot to see, and not that much time to see it in, so it was time to get moving. We started off in the Forum, and followed it up with the Colosseum. A cool trick that not many people know about is that the ticket for the Forum and the Colosseum are the same ticket; a two for one. So what you can do is buy your ticket at the Forum and waltz on over to the Colosseum whenever you please and walk past all of the people in line giving you dirty looks right up to the entrance. Not many people know that the line to the Colosseum is for buying tickets, so if you already have your tickets, you can skip the entire line. We did exactly that, and we must have walked passed 150 to 200 people. Somehow skipping a line of that size puts one in a very good mood to see the Colosseum.
After we saw the Colosseum, we grabbed a quick bite and headed out to the Vatican. Remember how I said that my dad and I don't like art museums? Well, last time I was at the Vatican, my friends and I took a browse of everything there before going to the Sistine Chapel, the very last thing at the end of the line. Not this time. Nope, we charged through the entire museum in about twenty minutes like blockers for the San Fransisco 49ers; always charging our way forward. Once we got to the Sistine Chapel, my dad went in, looked around for a few minutes, found the painting of God's finger and Adam's finger almost touching, pretty much ignored the Final Judgement by Michelangelo, and two minutes later said he was ready to leave. Incredible. Well, off we went.
After walking around Rome some more, we met up with Ms. Mumper and told her that we were going to Hard Rock Cafe for dinner. She almost had a heart attack. Her thought was that we were in Italy, land of the gourmet, and she was right. However, at that moment, we both wanted a little time off of "experiencing Europe", and just wanted a little time together. On top of all of that, I hadn't had a good burger in about seven months. She didn't let us hear the end of it for a long time, and I can imagine that she still teases my dad about it today when it comes up. Nevertheless, it was a great meal, again something that I wouldn't do if I was on my own, but it was great spending time with my dad without the mentality that we had to be somewhere seeing something.
Later on that night, we went to get gelato. As we were leaving, everyone used the restroom except me. I felt fine, and I forgot that restrooms in Europe are sometimes pretty few and far in between. Just from that sentence, you can probably guess exactly where this is going. We left the gelato shop and went to a grocery store to buy food for the next day's flight. Just as we were in the checkout, not 15 minutes later, it was like someone had grabbed my bladder and was twisting it- I had to go badly. Now, first of all, you'd think a grocery store of this size would have a bathroom, right? Wrong. I basically told Ms. Mumper and my dad as more of an FYI as I was halfway out the door that I was going back to the gelato shop to use the facilities. Technically, you have to be a customer to use the facilities in a place like that, but since I had just been a customer a half hour before, I figured I was all right. I took off running, and then it suddenly occurred to me that the gelato shop was on one of thousands of tiny, narrow streets nearby, and I hadn't been paying attention to where we came from. I heard Ms. Mumper say something about going to the right...so I went to the right. When I didn't find it, I went to the left. Still no luck. I was running up and down every block looking for that gelato shop. Still couldn't find it. Next I ran to the right again, figuring that maybe I missed a street. Still nothing. My bladder might as well have told me to just finish it off at that point. However, I found out that it wasn't quite as painful if I kept moving. Needless to say, I kept moving. After circling the block about five times with still no luck of finding the gelato shop, I decided to try another few blocks. Eventually, after literally running in circles, passing the Trevi fountain about five times, and still ending up completely lost, I decided to ditch plan A, and work on plan B, which was simply to find any bathroom I could at whatever cost. I ran by a McDonalds at one point, so I dashed inside and upstairs, and was relieved. As I left the McDonalds, it was still my mission to find the gelato shop that I was supposed to meet Ms. Mumper at, but I found out really quickly that because I didn't know the name of the gelato shop, and because it was one of hundreds of gelato shops in the tiny streets, asking for help was virtually useless. I asked a few people if they knew of a small gelato shop in that area on a tiny street, and of course they gave me a funny look and asked me which one I was talking about. After about an hour and a half of running around, I finally just gave up and took a metro back to the hotel where my dad was. He was already in his pajamas. When I told him that I had lost Ms. Mumper, he told me that the gelato shop was near the Pantheon. That's where I went wrong; somehow I crossed the major street between the Trevi Fountain and the Pantheon without realizing it, so I only stayed on the wrong side of that street looking for the shop. No wonder I couldn't find the gelato shop. He said that we had to go back to the gelato shop and find Ms. Mumper. Just as we were about to leave the hotel, Ms. Mumper came walking in. Thank goodness, because the hotel was on the other side of town from the gelato shop.
Wednesday through Sunday was full of fun. My dad came to a few of my classes, we all took numerous trips into Valencia, a trip to the beach and to the castle, and we also had dinner at Ana's house.
It seemed like the week flew by in a matter of hours. Before we all knew it, it was time to say goodbye. On the morning that they left, I went down to the train station with them, and that is where my dad and I said goodbye. We both cried. However, from today it is only a few short months remaining before we will all be together again. It was an excellent week, and I can't wait to be home again, even though I am starting to miss this place already.
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