So today after a long night of wine drinking and card playing, we went to one of the trips included in our program, Medici Villa of Petraia. It was absolutely amazing. We met at the bus station at 9:30am, the time we were supposed to leave. Of course we didn’t, because Italians never leave on time. At about 10am, the entire group piled on the bus, stamping our little tickets in the machine. The bus ride was about twenty minutes, so I decided to take a little nap. I woke up to pictures Katie took of me with my mouth open, and a group of other students staring at me. It was an awkward moment, but hey it’s Italy. You get over things quickly. Once we exited the bus, we walked through several back alleys. We passed several homes which let us know we were out of the main city, which is made up of mostly apartments. We walked up a hill, that was not as steep as I had expected, and went through a tall steel fence. It was absolutely beautiful. It was the first Villa I had been to, and it was covered with gorgeous roses in every color. The grass was perfectly cut, and the trees were perfectly trimmed. There were three fountains, all spread out in various parts of the villa.
I couldn’t help but imagine what it must have been like as a Medici growing up with this as your front yard. It got even better when we went inside the home that they once lived in. When we first walked through the door, we were in the main ballroom. It was of course covered in fresca’s, a word I heard Ianne use to describe the paintings on the walls. It also had multiple deer heads hanging up, one in which you could still see the mark of where it’s throat was slit. I tried to imagine the eighteenth century, when everyone wore huge ballroom dresses and danced under the chandelier. We went upstairs and visited several rooms that were also covered in “frescas”. The guide, that only spoke Italian, and had to be translated by one of our directors, explained that they hadn’t changed any of the stuff since the eighteenth century. It amazed me that these were the exact rooms, this wealthy family used to sleep in. I began to create several stories in my head. What was most interesting was when we were shown the room of the King’s mistress. Yes! I know! The king’s mistress lived in the same house as he and the family!
I would also say that she had the best room in the house! Her name was Rosanni, and she had a Baby blue room. The pictures she had on her dresser of herself were still there. At first I thought it may not have been so bad to be a mistress in those days, but then I imagined how unfulfilled she might have been, just as his wife was. Glad I’m a woman in these days not those. There was also a room with an alter that sat in front of a gold Jesus piece hanging on a cross. I can’t help but love how religious this place is. Although, I’m not Catholic, they still have many of the same beliefs that I do. So I see this as my own spiritual journey. After leaving the magnificent home of the Medici’s, well one of them, we headed back on the bus towards home. When we got off, we decided to get McDonalds. I know this is shameful, since we’re in one of the best food places in the world, BUT after eating pizza almost everyday for almost two weeks, you kind of miss that old processed American food. I will say that afterwards I regretted it. Not only was it worst than the McDonalds in the states, but it was more expensive! There was no euro menu, and I paid 4 euro for a small happy meal. I can’t complain though, dinner will be wonderful. My roommates Ianne and Katie had planned to go hiking at fisole?? And I wanted to try it, but I just couldn’t. I’m a city girl, and all this walking is getting the best of me. I decided to come back to my apartment and write for a while. As I headed back, I passed so many tourists of course. And all I could think was this place looks straight out of a movie. The best fashion stores lining the streets, wealthy tourists everywhere eating gelato, or chowing down on pizza. Scarves, bracelets, and art being sold on the corners. A man sketching a painting in the middle of the street with a hat out that’s being filled with one euro cent. I have to remind myself that this is not a movie. It’s Italy. It’s Florence. It’s…my home.
A YEAR AGO...I HAD NO IDEA I WOULD BE IN ITALY...SO WHO KNOWS WHERE GOD WILL TAKE ME...A YEAR FROM NOW.
So today after a long night of wine drinking and card playing, we went to one of the trips included in our program, Medici Villa of Petraia. It was absolutely amazing. We met at the bus station at 9:30am, the time we were supposed to leave. Of course we didn’t, because Italians never leave on time. At about 10am, the entire group piled on the bus, stamping our little tickets in the machine. The bus ride was about twenty minutes, so I decided to take a little nap. I woke up to pictures Katie took of me with my mouth open, and a group of other students staring at me. It was an awkward moment, but hey it’s Italy. You get over things quickly. Once we exited the bus, we walked through several back alleys. We passed several homes which let us know we were out of the main city, which is made up of mostly apartments. We walked up a hill, that was not as steep as I had expected, and went through a tall steel fence. It was absolutely beautiful. It was the first Villa I had been to, and it was covered with gorgeous roses in every color. The grass was perfectly cut, and the trees were perfectly trimmed. There were three fountains, all spread out in various parts of the villa.
I couldn’t help but imagine what it must have been like as a Medici growing up with this as your front yard. It got even better when we went inside the home that they once lived in. When we first walked through the door, we were in the main ballroom. It was of course covered in fresca’s, a word I heard Ianne use to describe the paintings on the walls. It also had multiple deer heads hanging up, one in which you could still see the mark of where it’s throat was slit. I tried to imagine the eighteenth century, when everyone wore huge ballroom dresses and danced under the chandelier. We went upstairs and visited several rooms that were also covered in “frescas”. The guide, that only spoke Italian, and had to be translated by one of our directors, explained that they hadn’t changed any of the stuff since the eighteenth century. It amazed me that these were the exact rooms, this wealthy family used to sleep in. I began to create several stories in my head. What was most interesting was when we were shown the room of the King’s mistress. Yes! I know! The king’s mistress lived in the same house as he and the family!
I would also say that she had the best room in the house! Her name was Rosanni, and she had a Baby blue room. The pictures she had on her dresser of herself were still there. At first I thought it may not have been so bad to be a mistress in those days, but then I imagined how unfulfilled she might have been, just as his wife was. Glad I’m a woman in these days not those. There was also a room with an alter that sat in front of a gold Jesus piece hanging on a cross. I can’t help but love how religious this place is. Although, I’m not Catholic, they still have many of the same beliefs that I do. So I see this as my own spiritual journey. After leaving the magnificent home of the Medici’s, well one of them, we headed back on the bus towards home. When we got off, we decided to get McDonalds. I know this is shameful, since we’re in one of the best food places in the world, BUT after eating pizza almost everyday for almost two weeks, you kind of miss that old processed American food. I will say that afterwards I regretted it. Not only was it worst than the McDonalds in the states, but it was more expensive! There was no euro menu, and I paid 4 euro for a small happy meal. I can’t complain though, dinner will be wonderful. My roommates Ianne and Katie had planned to go hiking at fisole?? And I wanted to try it, but I just couldn’t. I’m a city girl, and all this walking is getting the best of me. I decided to come back to my apartment and write for a while. As I headed back, I passed so many tourists of course. And all I could think was this place looks straight out of a movie. The best fashion stores lining the streets, wealthy tourists everywhere eating gelato, or chowing down on pizza. Scarves, bracelets, and art being sold on the corners. A man sketching a painting in the middle of the street with a hat out that’s being filled with one euro cent. I have to remind myself that this is not a movie. It’s Italy. It’s Florence. It’s…my home.
A YEAR AGO...I HAD NO IDEA I WOULD BE IN ITALY...SO WHO KNOWS WHERE GOD WILL TAKE ME...A YEAR FROM NOW.
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