Catania, Sicily

Since being home from Oxford I've been to Sicily for a week, which was a much needed break. Catania made a remarkable contrast to the northern Italian cities of Florence, Pisa and Venice that I'd visited previously. It seemed quieter, less full of English-speaking tourists (like myself and my friends :P) and more traditional in many ways. Our favourite parts of that holiday were eating out in small, street-side restaurants every evening, and grabbing fresh food from the market or bread from the bakery, everyday. Not to mention a day spent hiking on Mount Etna!

Slopes of Mount Etna, one of Europe's most active volcanoes. 

Clouds rolled in just as I was climbing towards the exclusion zone, after getting the chair lift part of the way up. The view on a clear day is said to be spectacular. 

We were pretty adventurous, venturing to a communal (read:free) beach by bus, instead of all of the commercial, private beaches, which blasted music constantly and were packed with people trying to sell us stuff. I saw some Romans ruins, and the best part was how deserted they were. My friend and I were the only tourists there for most of the hour that we spent at one place, and that was a welcome relief at the height of the summer holiday season in Italy.

Ruins of a Roman amphitheatre, which extend below most of the modern-day city of Catania, but are obscured by more recent buildings and roads. 

All in all, we struck a good balance of sight-seeing, beaches and bars. It was cultural enough to feel as though I've learnt a little bit about the history of Sicily, but relaxed enough that I felt as though I'd had a substantial "brain break" compared to the deluge of exam term at Oxford. I even read my first not-for-study fiction book in over two years - a historical novel set partly in Oxford during the civil war. Whether I was lying on the beach with the waves breaking nearby, or sitting on our apartment terrace with the sound of live music floating up for the piazza, the places of 17th century Newport Pagnell, Stony Stratford and London, were never far away.

Piazza Duomo, the main square of Catania and a major tourist attraction due to it's Baroque style architecture, carved from the black lavastone of Etna. 

Despite the deliberately laid-back atmosphere of our holiday, there were a couple of moments that forced seriousness on us. Myself and my female friends received quite a lot of unwanted male attention, which was awkward, as we were literally just walking around buying food, or walking in broad daylight to get to a tourist attraction. Attitudes towards women seemed more old-fashioned, and at times it was uncomfortable to be cat-called at whilst going to the supermarket, or to feel someone tap your backside as you tried to walk past them along narrow streets.

A more imminent crisis facing Sicily, particularly the port towns, is the influx of migrants, mainly from parts of Africa, but we also spoke to some men from Bangladesh, trying to sell us stuff on the beach. As tourists, we were approached on the beach, in the square, or as we ate out in restaurants, and asked to either inspect whatever it was people were selling (usually jewellery, light-up toys, selfie-sticks) or just asked for money outright. It was hard to know what the right thing to do was. No one likes feeling slightly trapped and awkward as someone playing an instrument walks up to you whilst you're eating dinner, stares in your face, continues to play (even if you didn't ask them, and don't encourage them) before finishing their song and holding out their cap, hopefully. The sorrow and despair as sellers, in the boiling heat, walked up and down the beach, carrying their goods on their back, was obvious. The distress of the man who began by singing, but concluded almost in tears as he entreated us to give him money to support his daughter, was very real.

I hope that Europe's leaders reach a more satisfactory, long-term plan concerning the current migrant crisis, because no one deserves a life of constant disappointment and desperation, yet places like Catania seem unable to cope with the current situation. The line of sellers who would attempt to board the bus to the beaches each day, hauling their wares, and often without fare for a 3 Euro bus ticket, was depressing. I don't like to end a post on such a sombre tone, and this blog isn't normally used for serious blog posts, but I feel as though to talk about "my holiday in Sicily" as a one-dimensional, happy affair, would be to overlook something which I observed there everyday, with my own eyes. I would still encourage people to visit Sicily, as its scenery and old-worldly charm are absolutely pervasive, and tourism is clearly a vital part of the local economy, which appears to have been hit hard by the global recession a few years ago.

View of a church and the winding surrounding streets, from a window in our apartment. 

On a lighter note, it's worth taking a moment to remember that the people I went to Sicily with were some of the same friends that accompanied me to Alicante, three years ago (http://notesfromadaydreambeliever.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/alicante-spain-2012.html)! It feels like a lifetime since I finished school, but keeping hold of my friendship group at home throughout university is something that I'm very proud of. It's been fantastic to have a constant group of people to come home to from university each term, and share stuff with, remembering school times. It's been even better to keep making new memories with them (the sign of a live friendship) so here's to another group holiday, in another three years, or at least, to three more years of friendship!

All Roads Lead to Rome, well, except this one - Italy 2014

Over three years ago now I visited Venice for the first time. I even wrote a blog post about it; http://notesfromadaydreambeliever.blogspot.co.uk/2011/10/venice-summer-2011.html . 

So I returned, with friends instead of family, and with the half-intention of carrying out research for my Special Subject paper next term. And of course, the overriding intention of having myself an Italian mini-break and a bit of September sunshine. Me and a friend from school visited Pisa, stayed in Florence and then spent the day in Venice (to meet my friend from university) before leaving Italy. Next term I'm taking a paper based on a comparative study of the Italian Renaissance in Venice & Florence, c.1475-1525.

It feels so odd. Arriving in Venice, across the water by train at Santa Lucrezia, both unfamiliar and oddly familiar (I was accompanied by a friend I've known for over 10 years, and meeting one of my closest uni friends, plus I've been to Venice 3 years ago, and so could still remember all of the landmarks).

Yet so much has changed, When I went to Venice the first time, it really was one of the last "family" holidays I went on, and it felt like it. I was (and still am!) so ready to explore the world on my own. I'd just got my AS results, and was about to start applying through UCAS to universities. I really felt like my independent life was about to take shape. 

Now I'm about to start third year. I realise that university has its ups and downs. Now I'm actually more anxious about the end of next year, and seriously beginning an independent life, away from undergraduate study, and possibly towards a full time job!

The Leaning tower, Florence.

Just kidding. Bet people in Pisa get annoyed about this one wonky building dominating their entire (well constructed I'm sure) city. Plus, you can hardly get near the thing without people trying to take selfies "holding" it up. Yet another problem, aside from the structural soundness of the building, which early modern architects failed to foresee...

The facade of Santa Maria Novella, Florence. Prime example of the Renaissance patronage system in action - just beyond the parameter of this photo is the Latin dedication to a Florentine merchant who paid for this work. As intended, his name has outlived him by centuries for this very reason.

Ironically, I decided not to photograph that part. All legacies have limits. 

Palace of the Signoria. A fun place to walk around and pretend to be Niccolo Machiavelli (if you're so inclined). 

(another) Medici horseback statue, with the Innocenti Foundling hospital in the background. Dark sky for dramatic effect. 

Venezia, view from main island. Strange to stand in the same place, almost exactly 3 years later. Maybe it's a sign that, in another three year's time, when I'll have left university (!) I'll be mysteriously called back again. 

Stood on the same bridge, took virtually the same photo. Ecclesiastes 1:9 "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun." 

3 years ago, I went into the Doge's palace alone, as my mum and sister didn't want to join me. Inside, I was captivated by the art and architecture and finally started to believe that history was the subject I should be studying at university. I don't look back on that decision, even if it's constant work. Little did I know that in 3 year's time I would come back and look at these buildings anew (as in the Renaissance, in fact) for the purpose of final-year study.

Since I first went to this part of Italy I've been to the U.S.A and China by myself. I've also been living away from home for two years. In short, I could not have predicted the number of places I would go, the people I'd meet and the things I'd do. If the Renaissance (Florentine propaganda or not, according to post-structuralists, but that aside) is idealistically described as the re-construction of the self in relation to the past, then I think I'm starting to get it. Maybe. 

116 days

Since I last wrote. Apologies. What do I have to show for those days? A few photos, (see below), some great memories and 12 assignments (well, 11 essays and 1 presentation to be precise. And I've written another essay since I've been home this vacation...that's another story!). In addition to a Neon yellow vest (for dressing as a Bumblebee) and what feels like about 10 hours sleep (across the entire 8 weeks)...

Not that I can talk now, it's the middle of the night here, and rather than genuinely get a good night's sleep, I'm updating this blog. Why? Because in the long term I'll be thankful, even if right now I'm stumbling in the half-light (don't want to wake the rest of the house up by turning on my bedroom light, which is non-energy efficient and the equivalent of a mini solar-flare) and trying to remember what I've just written, so that I don't repeat myself.

Actually, this is quite a good frame of mind to be in, I've decided. Good in the sense that this is an accurate representation of how I feel 99% of the time I'm at university. For 1% of the time, I function like a normal teenager/ student, I eat, sleep and socialise. For other 99%, I am an Oxford student. I work whilst other people sleep, I study whilst they daydream (well, I attempt to, is the point) and I (often accidentally) laugh at anyone who tells me they've done less than an essay a week (usually people I know at other universities...I don't mean to, I'm just so tired).

So last term. Went by so quickly (much quicker than the first term!) that I can already hardly remember it (this is promising for my exams...) but I found it less overwhelming and so more enjoyable. Like I was ready for the flood of work (though it still came) and I was better at locating myself (though I still took time to get lost in the architecture...you can tell I'm back in my hometown!)

It's going to be weird going back and seeing the college in a different season completely. When I left it had been snowing, and looked like the middle of winter. My life's like that though, all these snapshots in different places, different times. Seeing as I'm at home approximately 50% of the time and at university 50% of the time, I get this strange, disorientated sense of having somehow missed things in both my worlds, as though they move slightly out of sync with each other. In reality, fixed places remain the same, like rocks against the tide. It's that's changed, but I just don't feel it, like the fact that currently the earth is spinning and keeping us on it, but I can't feel it, and I doubt you can either.

So, next term. It's a longer and harder term than previously (not sure how I feel about this...) my exams are after term ends too. I have more hours of exams this year than I have for the past 2 years of A-levels. I haven't sat more than 7 hour's worth of exams since GCSE. Now I'll have to sit 12 hours of exams, probably in the timeframe of about a week or two. Fantastic.

As soon as exams end I'm hopefully going away, literally within 2 days, (ok probably 3 days, I don't have a timetable yet but it seems unlikely that even Oxford would put exams on a saturday...but hey, it's Oxford, they do what they want. I've already made travel arrangements, so the exams had best not continue into July!) for six and a half weeks. Basically, seeing as I last wrote 116 days ago, what I'm saying is, it's probably going to be over 116 days until I write again. If I'm busy now, I can only imagine what I'll be like for the duration of next term, and the weeks that follow! In 116 days from today I'll be in the middle of my vacation, and so I shall return to Blogger some time at the end of August! Time flies! A year ago last August I was still waiting for my A2 results!

Scary thought.

PS, I'm now a year older!

The more sand has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.

- Niccolo Machiavelli