T Minus 4 Days

It’s now thirteen and a half months since I left Manchester for Florence, and only four days remain of my year abroad. I know I keep saying how unbelievably fast the time has gone, but it’s hitting me more than ever now.

I’m very pleased to say that Trento has only gotten better as the semester has gone on. I’ve done all my exams now and got the results back. Being honest, I was pleasantly surprised with them. Considering how worried I’ve been about my Italian, my lecturers clearly thought I was doing something right, because my grades have been higher here than they have ever been in Bath. Which is strange considering the extent of my new found laissez-faire attitude towards studying; the Italian way of life is sinking in!

Straight after my last exam, I headed back to Alderley for just over two weeks; a very important two weeks for the Lucas family. The first week my wonderful parents celebrated their 25^th wedding anniversary (my Mum is still demanding that somebody award her with some sort of medal) and in the second week my Dad turned 50. Of course, in true Lucas style, both events involved great company, a shed load of my parents’ amazing cooking (centerpieces can be seen above), and crate upon crate of booze. It was great catching up with family and friends after not seeing them for so long, and we managed to get all the family together for the anniversary celebrations; not an easy feat to accomplish. Also I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone that got involved with our master plan present for my parents, they absolutely loved it and there were even a few tears. Photos to follow in the coming weeks, when I’m no longer surviving on minimal internet.

Wimbledon

Wicked!

Aside from that, it was great catching up with y’all over those two weeks. A huge shout out has to go to the Pasquale family though, for surprising me with tickets to see Wicked! as an early birthday present. A cheeky Nando’s was even thrown in just before the show. My idea of a perfect evening! Not going to lie, I shamelessly broke down during Defying Gravity. It was a brilliant cast and if there is anyone out there that hasn’t yet seen it, I would highly recommend it. It’s not just for hardcore musical goers like me; it’s really funny too. Plus you can get theatre ice cream pots during the interval; what’s not to love? Thank you so much Em!

Maybe the weirdest thing that happened during my time at home was a realisation that I had when I went to watch the Minions movie with friends. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I had an epiphany, but it wasn't far off. Try not to judge me, the logic works out: I found myself laughing at certain points in the film when others weren’t. At around the halfway point of the film, I realised why this was. I remember someone saying once that the minion language is a mix of Italian, French and certain words from various other languages. So there I was, watching a children’s film, understanding the total nonsense that is minion speak. I wasn’t sure how to feel really. It’s certainly not one to write on the CV, and I tried telling my Mum that I had understood minion language, but she clearly thought I’d just been out drinking all afternoon and had lied about going to the cinema.

So following an eventful few weeks up north, I headed back to Italy two weeks ago today with the fantastic Miss Charlotte Hoare (soon to be Mrs Charlotte Wells!) for a week of frivolity, shenanigans and general troublemaking on our first international endeavour together. We managed to get quite a lot done; we went twice to Lake Garda for a fun filled time of cable car trips and lakeside drinking, and the day before Lotty headed home we hit Venice, where we met my exchange partner Paolo, who helped us to see Venice through the eyes of a local. All in all that was a hilarious day, and I’ve come to realise that no matter what language I’m speaking, I will always be the target of (relatively) friendly abuse. It’s quite a thing to witness when two of your good friends, despite language barriers and no prior contact, can communicate rather smoothly through mockery of their mutual friend. We had a great day, mainly involving pizza and a ridiculous sun hat. Wine was a helpful addition for a day of serious translation too, unlike me but most enjoyable. There's nowhere quite like Venice, and I couldn't have asked for two better compadres to spend a day with there!

Dan's a lucky man!

Rialto from our gondola

The day after Lotty went back to old Blighty, my oldest and wackiest friend Laura came to stay for four nights. And I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone to be so enthusiastic in the space of such a short holiday! This made me really happy, however, as I realised that her reactions mirrored my own from the first time I’d seen certain places, Venice in particular. Several highlights from my four days with Laura include running away from a man snorting cocaine in a park in Bolzano, asking a gondolier to row us through Venice avoiding the sun as much as possible (hence the purchase of a parasol, don't judge me), and drinking as many Ugos as we could possibly afford/stomach. Plus, I’ve finally found someone who appreciates a good Grom as much as I do. Again, thanks for coming Laura, always a pleasure and I don’t think I’ve laughed so much for a while! I’ve also never met anyone who is so unfazed by language barriers and can communicate mainly through the art of mime. Impressive.

The only way to travel

Venezia, ti amo!

And finally, Wednesday saw the final year abroad reunion of Georgeganor (Georgie, Megan and Eleanor, it took us forever to work that one out). As you can probably guess, we went to Lake Garda, our new favourite place, and we also headed to Verona to have a proper look around. We hit the sightseeing bus and several shops including the Disney store; a winning combination for my last day trip of the year abroad. Els and Megan headed to Siena today for a couple of days of relaxation in the rolling Tuscan hills, but I’ve come to realise that I have a lot more to sort out than I thought I did before my departure, so I’ve stayed in Trento to sort my life out and enjoy the mountain views whilst I still can. I’m also mentally preparing myself for some serious post-year abroad reverse culture shock (it’s a thing, honest!).

An Erasmus student walks into a doctor’s surgery…

Sounds like the start of a bad joke, right? Not far off. The day before I came back to Italy, I had to go to A&E having dropped a hefty wine bottle on my feet. So, having spent all afternoon of that day being told off by various Northerners for wasting alcohol in such a frivolous manner, I returned to Italy with stitched up feet, feeling quite apprehensive about having to negotiate healthcare issues in Italian. Somehow I managed to come out the other side unscathed. But my God, going to the doctor here really makes you appreciate both the NHS and British etiquette in day-to-day situations. Turning up at the doctor the first time, I was a bit worried that I would mistranslate and that he would amputate my leg. That didn’t happen, the doctor was lovely and all of my limbs have remained intact. I did become quite concerned, however, when he was having a look at my injuries, took off all my various bandages and dressings and then announced that he didn’t have any new ones that he could give me so I would have to go and find some from somewhere else. I say again, a DOCTOR said this. And this is where being a hypochondriac really comes in useful; I then pulled out a full medical kit with various bandages, elastoplasts and antiseptic creams. It actually took the doctor a moment to decide which one to use. He was both impressed and bemused at how prepared I was.

And then when I went back the following week, I had to fight people to get in to see the doctor. I’ve never known anything like it. I can’t wait to get home and queue. There, I said it!

Italian men

Now, I don’t wish to generalize, but over the last week I have had more attention from the opposite sex than I have had possibly ever, and there's only one possible explanation for this; all of the blokes involved were Italian...

Exhibit A: a man on the train started quite a nice conversation with me. After no more than two minutes, he said, “So, English, we make the sex now in the bathroom?” When I laughed at this, he looked at me quizzically, clearly not understanding why I wasn’t taking him seriously. I proceeded to bolt to the other end of the train, which was out of air con (desperate times), and hid under my oversized floppy hat in case he came looking. 

Exhibit B: On the train back from Bolzano with Laura, having just legged it away from a cocaine den in the middle of a park, we relaxed thinking we were out of trouble. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire; a guy came and sat next to us and for some reason chose to try and chat me up instead of Laura (already you know he is visually impaired), and kept asking me to meet him for a drink and to give him all my details, be it Facebook or phone number. So if anyone asks, I deactivated Facebook and lost my phone. He was ridiculously persistent, so I think he was probably drunk.

Exhibit C: Today, walking through Trento, a man stopped me walking through town to shimmy in my face, saying “che bellissima.”

What we can conclude from the above evidence: it doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like; as long as you're breathing and you get your legs out, you've got a shot in Italy. There is hope for me yet, watch this space! 



If anyone needs me over the coming days, you will find me gorging myself on pasta and proper coffee whilst I still can, or staring wistfully at the mountains surrounding Trento. Don't worry yet though, I imagine there will be some more blogging to come in the coming weeks. I'm going to milk this for all it's worth whilst my life remains relatively interesting before the hell of finals begins.

A presto peeps.

G x