There is an incredible expectation which comes with being one of The Returned. One of those who has gone beyond the boundaries of their comfortable suburban existence and dared to brave the big, wide world. One who has seen things, experienced things, supposedly gone and conquered and returned all the wiser and grander. You get to carry yourself with airs and grace because you are now Travelled.
One of the most stunning architectural pieces to ever be conceptualised, there was no doubt in my mind that I would need to dedicate a blog post to la Sagrada Família. Arguably Gaudí’s most famous structure, and all the more famous in its unfinished state, the basilica is nothing short of breathtaking.
4 – 5 July, 2015
After my mildly traumatic introduction to Barcelona (for those who missed it, see the following: https://lapiccolaviaggiatrice.wordpress.com/2016/11/21/hola-barcelona/), I began to properly explore the city and very promptly fell in love. It is not only for our Australian tendency to truncate words that the city has so fondly been dubbed “Barca” by many Aussie travellers. It’s more than just a nickname – it conveys a sense of intimacy, of affection, of love for a city that is loud and crazy and overwhelming.
Today marks two years from the day that I left Sydney to embark upon the most challenging, heartwarming and definitive six months of my life. Two years ago, I packed my things and moved to the other side of the world for half a year, and it was on my first day in college, terrified and tired and my face tear-stained, that I met Anna.
It’s more than a fad or a craze. More than a phenomenon. It’s a way of life, an essential experience.
It combines two great loves of many tourists and locals alike: shopping, and the beach!
4 July, 2015
I was in Barcelona for two days. Hardly long enough to see everything, and no where near long enough to really know the city. But I fell in love with it. I fell in love with Barcelona’s grand and vibrant architecture, with the music which floated in the air of open squares, with the humidity and the chaos and the young men and peddlers who shouted out as I passed. I fell in love with it all.
You would think that being an Italo-Australian would be helpful when in Italy, correct? In some cases, yes. In others, it caused a bit of confusion …
Having only experienced college life while on exchange in Italy, I can’t say much for the Australian equivalent. However, there were several aspects of life which struck me as quintessentially Italian or at least particular to my college specifically while I was living in Pavia. And so I present – my top five snapshots of Italian college life!
When you move out of home, you realise that you are confronted with small challenges that you had never anticipated and that there are so many little things that you just seriously didn’t consider.
This relatively normal process is slightly amplified if you are a tight-arse who has just moved into college in a foreign country on the opposite side of the world.
Shared kitchens in college are synonymous with a few things – untidiness, clutter, lack of space, unsatisfactory/broken utensils (I used a frying pan without a handle for about a month – enough said).
But one thing about shared college kitchens is that, inevitably, at some point in the semester, there will be some ~drama~ and everyone will enjoy watching it play out for a while until it gets incredibly infuriating.