Part VI: Skipping ahead

I just decided to skip ahead to what I'm up to now in la bella Roma, since there are so many exciting things happening now.  Our classes officially started on Tuesday: Moral Theology, Roman Perspectives, and Basic Italian.  I had to laugh because while our academic semester is just beginning, our classmates back on campus in the U.S. are trudging through midterms.  What's even sweeter is that we only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are dedicated to our Art and Architecture class tours and day trips.

The other day, for example, we were supposed to take a day trip to Orvietto, home of an Eucharistic miracle and the cross which spoke to St. Thomas.  But, thanks to a blackout in Termini station, we weren't able to go.  Welcome to Italy folks!  When there isn't a random strike, there's a blackout.  Living here, you learn to never to take anything for granted, except the food.  Always have plan B when planning anything!

Last Wednesday's papal audience, we went to say ciao to our Papa Francesco, absolutely worth it, despite the crowds.  But the crowds... oh the crowds!  The little Italian grandmas turn into screaming banshees in a crowd so tight that I couldn't even reach into my own pocket to get a tissue.  At one point, working my way up to Vatican security to get into the square, Italian grandma #1 was screaming at me to stop pushing her, while Italian grandmas #2, 3, 4, and 5 were pushing me into #1.  I lost my balance and started falling down, unable to right myself.  Luckily one of my guy friends saw my plight and reached over #3 and pulled me up.  But I made it in and out of the audience safely.  And this made it all worthwhile:

The back view of St. Peter's in the morning:

The crowd waiting:

 I love the clouds, even if they did bring pouring rain:

People being vacuum sealed into their places.  The genderarmeri brought the barrier up and squished them in as far as they could go:

Papa Francesco!!!!!!!:

 

Part V

Since so much is happening now in Rome, I am just going to give a brief summary and lots of pics to lead things into the Eternal City.

Paris:
We spent the first night with adoration at Sacre Coeur, which was SUCH an amazing experience.  It seems like Paris' safe haven from the hectic city life.

Around Paris:

Part IV: whenst things get VERY interesting

Brussels:
We arrived in Brussels Midi around 10:30 pm.  We went downstairs to get to the underground where we would catch a metro to the neighborhood of the family we were to stay with.  Well, we found the metros, but there was nary a map in sight telling us of the whereabouts of our destination.  We spent an hour scanning the station.  Finally we found someone who could kind of speak English, but he had NO idea where the station was that we needed to get to.  He also informed us that the station was going to close in an hour.  This heightened our sense of panic, along with our knowledge that Brussels really is not a safe, friendly city.  We finally decided that it may be worth it at this point to splurge on a taxi.  Back upstairs we went, dragging all our luggage behind us.  Before we got very far, 3 sketch looking men stopped us and asked if we needed at taxi.  We said yes and they got ready to take us out to their taxis.  But we weren't too sure about this whole thing yet.  B asked if they knew where the address was, and they said, "Oh yes!"  She asked if they were sure they really knew where it was, and they said, "We have GPS."  We huddled in for a whispered group conference about whether we should trust them or not, but the "taxi drivers" quickly cemented our decision.  "Don't worry!" one called to us, "We are official taxi!"  Yeah right...  We turned away, and right at that moment, 2 uniformed police men walked by.  We ran pell-mell after them to ask if they knew how to get to our destination.  Well, we found best friends in those Brussels policemen.  Not only did they give us their metro map, they also escorted us downstairs, helped us buy our tickets, and lifted our suitcases through the barriers onto the platform for us.  We were also reassured that we would make it there before the metros shut down for the night.

Well, our adventure did not end there as one might hope.  We got to the correct tube station, and did indeed find the correct exit, but COULD NOT find the street!  The house was only supposed to be a 5 minute walk from the metro, but we spent 20 min walking back and forth along the darkened streets of Brussels.  We put our heads together and figured on paying another visit to our friends the Brussels policemen.  We went to the police station just down the street, 4 young American adults crowding into the tiny reception room, with enough luggage to last a semester.  The policemen, again, improved relations between the U.S. and Belgium (even if only between me and my friends) and pointed us in the correct direction.

So now we were at least on the right street!  But the house number was no where to be found.  We paced up and down the street, until I looked up at a window and saw someone staring at us eerily from behind a curtain.  To make it creepier, he quickly slipped away when he noticed me looking at him.  Duly alarmed, I alerted my companions and we hastened to the brightly lit street corner to come up with our Plan D. 

J and I decided to sit on the curb and watch the bags while S and B went back to the police station to try to figure out where the heck this house was.  We sat, and sat, and sat... Finally after about 40 minutes, S and B come frolicking back up the hill towards us.  With a little help from Facebook, they were able to contact a guy back on our college campus and he gave us the CORRECT address.

Finally, 2 and a half hours after our ETA, we arrived tired, hungry and relieved on the doorstep of the K's house.  Mrs. K was so gracious and had waited up for us, keeping a pot of stew warm on the stove for the hungry travelers.  Bellies warm and full, we curled into bed, thankful it wasn't a park bench.

The next day we went to the Grand Place and bought Belgian waffles, chocolate, and visited the peeing kid statue.

The Grand Place: (the date in the corner is off...)

 More Grand Place:

 The disappointingly small peeing kid statue:

 Ordering waffles!:

 S and B and their waffle:

 Get in mah bellay!!!:

 Best Most interesting for last:

Part III- a long time later...

Since so much has happened since my last post, I will have to just give a brief recap of everything.

London:
The third day, J and I had agreed to meet my uncle near Big Ben for lunch.  My uncle had given us a cell phone to use to call him when we were ready, but not only did it have a passcode I couldn't figure, but also I happened to forget to pick it up off the table to bring it with me...

J and I left bright and early in order to bring our luggage through the tube system of London to St. Pancreas station, where we would be departing for Brussels later that evening.  Thus began our death march through hell.  First of all, in my inexperience, I had neglected to bring a handy-dandy wheely suitcase, instead, my large luggage was one where you (aka your boyfriend) carries manually.  And to make matters worse, this hand luggage weighs the better part of 40 lbs.  So we walk 1.5 miles from my aunt and uncle's house to the train station, dragging over 150 lbs of luggage, up hills, down hills.  We finally arrived at the station, dripping sweat and gingerly flexing sore shoulders.  I think I've mentally blacked out that horrific experience of dragging our suit cases through London's tube stations, but my memory clears after finding a cart at Pancreas to carry our luggage the last 500 yds to the luggage storage place.  We put our gosh-darned cases in their (not quite) eternal resting place and waltzed out, feeling considerably more buoyant without their added weight.

We went to see Big Ben, the London Eye (from afar... I hate heights, so we didn't go on).

Then began our search for my uncle.  He had told us the name of his office building and we thought we could recognize it upon seeing it, but to no avail.  Finally after much angst in a rotten-fish smelling London phone booth, which turned out to not be in service after all, I resolved to ask to borrow some random stranger's phone.  A very very VERY nice lady let us borrow her phone and we were finally able to meet my uncle.  He took us to the Garden Cafe where we had fish and chips and pear cider.

From thence we sauntered to Buckingham palace.  Unfortunately I don't have pictures of that since my camera died pretty much right before we got there.  After viewing the palace from afar (we didn't feel like paying or waiting in line to get in) we walked, and walked, and walked, and walked some more to get to a metro station.  My knees had stiffened up and were too swollen to walk any more for some reason, so I was starting to feel like a 2 yr old in desperate need of a nap.

Fast forward a bit, and we were in the British National library viewing the Magna Carta, the Guttenberg Bible, and various other important documents which shaped history.  From there, we walked to the train station, met up with S and B, the other girls we would be traveling with, and got on our Eurostar train to Brussels.