Toscana

On the Beach



Tower of Pisa!



Yoga Session



Pisa



Siena

For the first half of fall holidays I was lucky enough to be brought along with Barbara and Daria for a week of wonderfulness in Tuscany, Italy. 

Pisa

Our week started out with a lot of train rides until our first destination- Pisa.  We stepped out of the train in our sweaters and long pants and were immediately far too warm.  We’d left in the cool autumn air and arrived in the hot humidity of Italy.  I was more than happy.  We checked into our hotel and decided to take a little walk around the city and do a bit of shopping.  My eyes were locked, gazing longingly into a leather store when Barbara said “Hey, look!”  And practically right down the street was already the leaning tower of Pisa itself.  One time my mom spent an extremely long time making a three tiered cake covered in white fondant.  It was extremely beautiful until overnight it decided that it didn’t feel like standing straight and all slid to one side.  That is what the tower looked like over the building of the main street. Gorgeous, white, and wildly slanted.  When we came to the foot of the tower it was even more stunning.  We went into the church which was enormous. Daria and I were wearing tank tops and so had to wear these blue, paper ponchos that covered down past my knees- it was quite the look! Barbara even managed to get us tickets to climb the tower. I was ecstatic! It was terrifying climbing up, I thought every step I was going to slip on the smooth, slippery, and slanted marble stairs.  We got to the top of the tower just in time to watch the warm Toscana sun sinking over the dome of the baptism church.  I could have stayed there for ages.  We dined on pizza down the street and I remembered how much I love Italy- with all my heart.  The next day, before leaving for Caseglione we had Cappuccinos right beside the tower with chocolate croissants. 

Caseglione

Hours later, after a lunch of olive bread and fresh fruit, we arrived at our main destination.  A little city called Caseglione.  We were staying in a cabin in a forested campground an hour’s walk from the town.  Our cabin was adorable, two bedrooms, a kitchenette, and a small bathroom.  It was plenty of room for the three of us to live for the next five days- especially because we were almost never inside.  Three minutes from our cabin was the beach.  It was the kind of beach that you see in movies, gentle, rolling waves, bright blue, endless sea, white sand, beach volleyball everywhere, and lots of people.  If I could live there someday- I would.  On the beach I mean- in a tent or something.  I was totally in my element.  The other very special thing about this place at this time of year is that it is ALL Swiss people.  The Swiss are the only ones who have a holiday now, and so they all seem to end up in the same prime vacation spots.  When an Italian person would walk by it would be like, “oh cool, an Italian!” Even though we were in Italy. It was interesting to hear all of the different Swiss- German from the different Kantons dialects (Barbara and Daria could tell where each family was from).  My family never ceases to amaze me here with languages- I just feel so inept.  Daria studies Greek, Italian, French, English, German, and Latin (I think that’s all of them), and Barbara is about the same.  They can pretty much understand whoever walks by, no matter where they come from, and it has made me realize just how helpful it is to have so much knowledge of language.  I was just proud of myself when I could talk about the Americans sitting beside us on the train in German and know for a fact they didn’t have a clue. 

Beach Volleyball

Whenever I have been at eh beach and seen people playing volleyball, I have always wanted to join.  I see myself flying through the air to save the ball from hitting the ground, I picture the satisfying thud as I smash the ball straight down over the net and it sinks into the sand, and I see myself serving the ball so powerfully the other team is afraid to touch it. Now I pick up the volleyball, volley it once and it goes behind me.  I bump and I groan as it goes flying into the water.  My skill lever has never quite matched the way I play in my imagination, but I decided that I would try anyways.  The first night when I was playing with Daria, I ran to get the ball, stepped on a shell and cut the bottom of my foot open. This should have been the sign for me to give up, but I didn’t.  The next day, we were playing a game with a bunch of other people from the beach.  Within the first five minutes, someone from the other side went for a hit.  I jumped up to block, thinking I had it nailed, but my hand was misplaced.  The ball connected with my right thumb, and I think my thumb ended up somewhere back by my wrist.  For next few plays, I avoided volleys completely, before I finally realized it was only beach volleyball and I was by far the worst on my team (not improved with a throbbing hand).  I left and looked at my hand to see that my palm was blown up like a balloon and I had no movement in my thumb.  So much for my volleyball career.  It got better in the next days, but volleyball and I probably won’t rekindle our relationship in the near future. 

RUN

In lieu of volleyball, I decided that I would run every single day on the beach.  I surprisingly kept to my word.  I ran every day between 30 and 45 minutes along the shoreline.  The things I love most are my florescent sports bras, bare feet, and my iPod.  Running incorporated all of them.  It’s the first time I have left a beach with a tan of a sports bra and soccer shorts instead of a bikini. I made a few really great playlists and was ready for some exercise.  Each day my legs burned from the soft sand, but I always felt so good after.  One thing I discovered about my running style is that I run how I sing.  To clarify what this means, I will give you a scenario:  a song comes on the radio.  I say, “Oh yes! I love this one!” I turn it up.  Within the first thirty seconds I turn it a little louder so that other people won’t realize i have to mumble the lyrics through the entire first verses. Now the chorus comes and I sing my heart out, because it’s the first time I actually know the words.  I have noticed that I run pretty normally during verses, boring bridges, and unimpressive instrumental solos.  However- give me a chorus with words I know and my body gets a burst of energy and I’m flying along the beach.  I must look pretty hilarious jogging, then suddenly exploding with speed and lots of head-bobbing and word-mouthing.  I also realized (when my headphones fell out) then when you mouth the words to a rap song, and breathe heavily from exercise at the same time it sounds like you are having a quite exhaustingly intense conversation with yourself.  Yet another reason why I must look crazy to the people I pass by in a day. 

Dinner- Italiano Style
Being in Italy, we cooked Italian food every night, so I was practically in heaven. Gnocchi, risotto, spaghetti, penne, and lots of vegetables with olive oil.  So delicious.  As soon as the sun went down at 19.00 every day, the temperature dropped immediately.  It was perfect for putting on track pants and a sweater to enjoy hot pasta on our porch.  We always ended the day with cookies and tea.  I was by far the biggest party pooper in the family- there is was not one exception to the tradition of me being first to bed, last one awake.  However, I always felt great during the day, and had tons of energy for….

Beach School

A really cool idea Barbara had was to give me a theme every day to work on at the beach.  Each day I learned a new part of German grammar or vocabulary, or reading, ect.  Now if someone had asked me to study English, or history, of chemistry on the beach every day I’d be furious.  However, I was more than willing to do this.  It’s amazing the motivation that occurs when you don’t understand a thing going on around you with people your age.  I figure the better, and faster I learn my High German, the soon I can start to even consider learning Swiss German.  I spent one day sorting ninety verbs into categories of past tense spelling rules.  As frustrating as this was, I now notice some major changes in my speech. For example: my stories are now capable of being in the past tense.  Until now my speech sounded something like “Yesterday, I am running and I see a cow.” Talk about grammatically incorrect.  That is now slightly better, although there are many rules I still screw up. I have also now started to make a better attempt to remember my genders.  In German, there are three “genders” for all words: feminine, masculine, and neutral (der, die, and das).  So, whenever I learn a new noun, I must also remember which gender it falls under.  Before, I just made everything neutral to try to be gender-fair.  It’s definitely hard, and I get it wrong a lot, but I am trying!

Beach Yoga

On one of the first nights, we made sure we stayed at the beach long enough to see the sunset.  Daria had the idea of taking some yoga pictures.  It started out as just Barbara doing some stretches and it looked really nice in the lighting.  As the sun fell deeper in the sky, the yoga got more intense.  Both Barbara were head standing, hand standing, and stretching in ways that made my body warn me not to try it as I took the pictures.  However, as I never miss a photo opportunity, I decided to try a few of the poses.  And I actually could do some of it! I was able to hold a headstand for a long time (once- the rest of the time consisted of Daria and Barbara trying to get a decent photo before “thud!” I’d toppled over in one direction or another).  We all got some really great shots, and believe it or not, this is me below.  Yes Mom and Dad, me Stephanie.  Exhibiting the first ever witnessed possibility that gracefulness and flexibility exist somewhere within me.  Sorry you weren’t here to share the moment. 

Beach Shopping

As peaceful as the beach was, you couldn’t go five minutes without hearing the calls of the sales people “Cheap, cheap, beautiful dresses, bracelets, sunglasses.  For you today, almost free!”  I often didn’t understand, because they were constantly rotating their languages from French, to German, to Italian.  Barbara is very good in Italian, and so that was what I heard most when we were talking to them.  I was fully determined to leave the beach with no new, bad quality, overpriced clothing that I don’t need.  Therefore, I was happy when I left with only a dress, a long sleeve, a scarf, and a headband.  I just can’t help myself when shopping comes right up and displays itself on my beach towel.  Totally impossible to ignore.  One particular man from India was selling name bracelets.  He asked my name, and I told him it was “Steph”.  I got the ever familiar blank look that clearly says “where is the rest of the name?” He said “Okay….Sh-toh-ff, and started to look through his bead box wondering hopelessly how such a name was spelt.  It’s funny how such a normal Canadian name can cause such confusion in a foreign country.  Barbara and I were laughing and it is now my new nickname around the house. 

Siena

On our way home we stayed one night in Siena.  It is totally different than Pisa. It is darker, and older, but beautiful all the same.  We had dinner right in the Piazza del Campo and walked around the beautiful shops.  The next day we climbed the tower and shopped some more.  We ate our last Gelatos (which I will dream about for quite some time), had our last chocolate croissants, and boarded the train for home.  Daria and I had one hour to run through Florence and see the church, before our final trains to Milan, then Zurich.  Although we were on a train that hit 300km/h, it was still a very long trip home.  At the beginning of the day I didn’t want to leave, but by the end I was so happy to be home. 

Tomorrow it’s off to Tessin!

Happy thanksgiving everyone <3 !

Gelato

Our Cabin!