This is my summer of re-love. I have returned to the United States for a mere two months, as I have done each summer since I relocated to Bologna, Italy three years ago. And I have been gifted a unique opportunity to be a tourist in my own country in the places that I once took for granted – places that I visited often for my whole life, and places that I lived. New York, Pittsburgh, Washington DC, and Southern California to be exact.
My father always told me that if I wanted to understand my relationship with a place I lived or a place I loved, I need to leave that place for some time before I can really have a good perspective on that place. Boy, was he right. Every year that I have returned to America I have had a new perspective on it. But this summer is different. This summer is the summer that I have finally understood and accepted these places into my heart and how my connection to these places is forever embedded into my hard-wiring. And I am returning and truly appreciating everything, even the bad.
My first stop since arriving in America this summer is New York. My father’s side of the family immigrated to New York in the early 1900’s and lived in Brooklyn. My godmother and godfather moved out of the city decades ago to a tiny city along the Hudson River called Ossining.
The snapshot above is my favorite on my trip this far. Taken on the bank of the Hudson river, I am at left with my godmother Suzanne on the right, who is a second mother to me. In the picture below, thirty-three years ago, my godmother is holding me in almost the exact same spot where we are standing above on the bank of the Hudson River.
Me and my godmother enjoying the Hudson sunset in 1980.
To think of everything that has happened in the 33 years since this picture was taken is pretty overwhelming. But this beautiful place is the same as it has always been, to me at least. Just an hour’s train ride from Grand Central Terminal, this other world of rolling hills and majestic lake views is sometimes easier to get to than Brooklyn. I realize I am lucky to have this beautifulness in my life, a place my dad has gone back to for decades, and a place my godmother still calls home. But I think we all have these beautiful places in our memories and in our hearts that are part of what makes us who we are. Sometimes it just takes some time to re-love them again.
I think most of us will agree that the word tourist has acquired a bit of a bitter aftertaste. Admittedly, I am as guilty as the next guy for striking down any notion of the idea that I might possibly enjoy being a tourist sometimes. I’d actually probably rather stay home than get caught doing anything that could potentially be labeled as “touristy.” Far be it for anyone to catch me enjoying a nice Mexican lunch in Old Town, San Diego. But why? Where has this anti-tourist phenomenon come from? How have we managed to self-inflict this somewhat silly stigma upon a relatively innocent word?
I opened up my iPad and looked up the definition of the word “tourist” in the dictionary. The definition is short and sweet: “A person who is traveling or visiting a place for pleasure.” A wholesome and respectable definition if I’ve ever heard one. But this makes the negative connotations of “touristy” even more perplexing, as by this definition, rejecting going somewhere touristy is essentially the same thing as rejecting the act of going somewhere for pleasure.
But then I take a moment to think about touristy places, as in places bursting at the seams with tourists. Disneyland calls to mind. Or Venice perhaps? And then my heart drops a little as I forget about the beautiful canals and bridges, and Main Street, and I am instead overwhelmed with images of hoards of people in t-shirts and sneakers. Not romantic.
So ok, I get it now. Lots of tourists – not so great. But going back to the definition again, “…visiting a place for pleasure,” is pretty great. So, why wait until you get to Disneyland to be a tourist, where you do have to join hoards of thousands of other tourists in your pursuit of pleasure, when you can just do that at home?
Once I went two years in San Diego without going to the beach a single time. Shameful, I know. My home is currently Bologna, Italy. Living abroad has bestowed on me an important gift – the opportunity (and excuse) to be a tourist in my own home, when I return to my previous homes in San Diego, Pittsburgh, and New York every summer. In my pursuance of pleasure, I will be a tourist nearly 100% of the time when I return to America this summer. Without a set routine bogging me down anymore, I am free to pursue pleasure by seeking out those activities that not only define the city in the eyes of the world, but also those special activities that I have found that define the cities for me and me alone, like eating most of my meals at The Mission when I’m in San Diego, or having yogurt at the top of Bloomingdales in Manhattan. And I also plan, without shame, to pursue those most stereotypical activities. The first thing I want to do when I get to San Diego is go to the beach. In New York I’m counting the days until I get to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And in Pittsburgh, the incline.
Which brings me to my most important point: what’s life without a little curiosity and fun? Don’t wait till you’re on vacation.
I live in Bologna, Italy, a mere five and a half-hour drive from Basel, Switzerland, which hosts one of the most important annual modern and contemporary art shows in the world, Art Basel. In my two years of living in Bologna, did it ever occur to me to make a trip to Basel? No. Why not? Good question. Laziness…money…ignorance perhaps…I guess it gets the best of us sometimes. Our own backyards are sometimes the last place we explore. In this case, I was lucky enough that my friend Zong rescued me from my remiss by inviting me to meet him at his gallery’s exhibition this year at Art Basel.
Having virtually no visual arts education and not being a fan of fairs and trade shows in general, my decision to go was in the spirit of adventure, friendship, and trust in Art Basel’s excellent reputation. And, well, why not? The exhibition spanned a full week in Basel, with about 300 galleries exhibiting, strictly chosen from a group of 2,000 applicants. It sounded promising.
Simply put, Art Basel wholly lived up to its reputation and in scale, was truly the most impressive collection of modern and contemporary art I have seen in my life. And I really can’t stress this enough – you don’t need to know anything about art to enjoy an exhibition like this. From all-star artists like Picasso and Warhol, furniture and design displays, photography, and installation art, there is something for everyone. And don’t even try looking at everything – there’s no time. Just stop and look at what really gets you.
Statistically speaking, there is something for everyone, and because this is not your average art show, that something is likely to be, well, amazing. I will never forget the moment I walked into one of the exhibit halls at Art Basel, roughly the size of a football field, and realized the entire hall was dedicated to installation art. This is not the sort of thing you find every day. I suddenly felt like an eight-year-old that just walked into Disneyland. I spent the afternoon weaving my way between larger than life paintings with their own soundtracks (think Moby Dick dressed in costume complete with whale sounds and a recorded reading), huge sculptures, through installed walls of fictional deserted businesses on an urban street, and into countless dark rooms with video projects, each one like a treasure waiting to be pulled out of a grab bag. By the end of the day, my mind was soaring from all the stimulation from so many visual delights. I was thrilled. I even managed to convince my athletic and left-brained travel companion, David, to come. He found solace in the visual mind tricks from architecturally inspired installations.
And the cherry on top of the fabulousness that was Art Basel was the beautiful, accessible, and relaxed city of Basel. While the city was packed with people attending the exhibition, there was plenty of room for everyone (aside from the steep hotel prices – book in advance). I spent a relaxing evening enjoying a stroll along the River Rhine, soaking in the beautiful architecture and the wonderfully relaxed vibe. My friend David spent the day hiking along the river, which he filled me in on with his iPhone photos when we met later for dinner at a local favorite for beer, The Fischerstube.
Reuniting with Zong in what really did turn out to be a mecca of modern and contemporary art, I really started kicking myself for not being more proactive with my travel adventure research and coming to Art Basel sooner. How many other amazing places are there to explore and things to do in the world am I missing because, well, no one has invited me? I’ve really got to get on this…Next year, Venice Biennale, here I come!
Here’s a slide show of my favorite photos from Basel:
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Bologna is not the most famous city in Italy. It has no world-famous monuments or museums. There are no destination resorts or breathtaking seaside.
But Bologna is our home. And we love it. For good reasons I might add. Actually, for reasons so significant they beg the question: What makes a city famous? And what should make a city famous? Is what we need for living so different from what we want when we travel?
We think no. Because if there is anything we can be sure of when we travel, no matter where we go, no unforgettable travel story every started with, “So we were standing in front of this monument.” Ha! Instead, how do these travel tales that you tell for the rest of your life begin? Perhaps, “We wandered into this amazing restaurant,” or “We made some new friends that showed us the town….”
These are the experiences that you are going to find in Bologna. So if you are concerned with seeing some of the world’s most famous monuments, definitely don’t come here. But if you want to eat some pretty awesome food and make some new international friends, all on the backdrop of a undeniably medieval city, then don’t miss it. Seriously. Because what more can we ask from life than great food, new friends, and some medieval eye candy?
And for those of you who still aren’t convinced, here are Lena and I’s top reasons why we can’t live without Bologna…
1. The food Bologna is internationally famous for its cuisine. And with good reason. The food here is, well, excellent. Spaghetti Bolognese (tagliatelle al ragu), tortellini al brodo, lasagna, and mortadella (aka Baloney). Rich and decadent, don’t come here if you are on a diet. And if you do try the mortadella, you better bring some home with you…unless you are worried about making Oscar Meyer jealous. For a classic Bologna mortadella experience, try Tamburini (via Caprarie, 1), which is in the heart of the center of Bologna, and popular with the Bolognese. Another favorite of ours for mortadella is Marsalino (via Marsala, 13), with a hipper feel in contrast to the classic Tamburini, and a super cute staff that always makes sure you are taken care of.
2. Fun to be found at all times (except in August) In our humble opinion, what makes a city great is when the streets are filled with people enjoying life. And this is truly a signature of life in Bologna. Taking an afternoon stroll, hanging out with friends and family and enjoying the scene, almost nothing is powerful enough to keep people off the street in Bologna. Pick up a bottle of wine at one of Bologna’s plentiful enotecas, and head to the nearest piazza to relax and people-watch like the locals do.
3. Beauty in every nook and cranny Bologna boasts the typical Italian beauty – narrow, winding streets painted in bright warm colors, shuttered windows, wrought iron terraces. But what sets Bologna apart from the rest of Italy are its portici, otherwise known as arcades. These portici are multifunctional – easy on the eyes, and a godsend when bad weather abounds. Thanks to the portici, I don’t even own a functional umbrella.
4. The people We at Gracefully Global believe that traveling is about getting into the heart of the places we visit, which really means getting to know the people who make these places unique. Bologna is no exception – actually, Bologna’s heartbeat is undeniably the people who are on the streets every day and every night, in every shape and form, from around Italy and around the world. If you want to avoid large hoards of tourists and immerse yourself in the European experience, Bologna is a great place to begin. Once you’ve finished your bottle of wine and enjoyed the ambiance of the piazzas, just follow the crowd to the nearest pub. You’ll make friends in no time.
5. The aperitivo This is the simplest of explanations. We love Bologna because it is one of the few places in the world that a drink can buy you access to an all-you-can-eat dinner buffet. Buy one drink, and a light dinner buffet is included, for free, at many of Bologna’s most popular bar destinations. What more could we ask for (as starving students and English teachers that is…)? 😉 One of our favorite aperitivo destinations is Lab 16 (Via Zamboni, 16), located very close to Bologna’s famous two towers. They have copious amounts of food (the pizza is great!) served between 7:30pm and 10:00pm, with just a small surcharge on top of your drink purchase (and they have great fruit drinks for those that don’t drink alcohol). The best part is during the summer they set up tables in the small piazza in front of Lab 16, which happens to be one of my favorite perches in all of Bologna.
When deciding from long lists of potential vacation destinations seems to have less reason than throwing a dart at a dart board, a good potential mantra could be, “If it is good enough for George Clooney, it is good enough for me.” Such is the case with famed celebrity destination, Lake Como (Lago di Como), which is in Lombardy, Italy, near the Swiss border. While George Clooney was forced into selling his villa here several years ago due to ongoing paparazzi onslaughts, this area has long been a destination for real and quasi royalty, with a guest list boasting the likes of Pliny the Younger, John F. Kennedy, Mark Twain, and Tom Cruise.
Even the sidewalks are beautiful in the Lake Como region, here at Bellagio.
So what is so great about Lake Como? Who knows. But there is something undeniably charming about a grand, lazy lake, winding around rolling green hills dotted with tiny villages painted in pastel, with the occasional eloquent villa tucked around the bend. And to make matters better, after a day on the lake, a relaxing dinner of homemade pasta with black truffles and Tuscan wine awaits.
It was a rainy day at Lake Como, but still beautiful.
Bellagio is one of the famed villages in the community, accessible by a dependable network of boats serving most of the villages in the area, and boasting a namesake casino in Las Vegas that is nearly the same size as this tiny little town.
A sunset this heavenly seems fit only for a date of equally epic proportions – Romeo, perhaps? Well, this is Verona, Italy, seen vividly in my sunset shot from my trip last weekend. And I guarantee you, Verona’s capacity for romance doesn’t disappoint. If you buy your plane tickets now, you might just be able to claim Romeo as your valentine. And if you are good at keeping secrets, his address is via Arche Scaligeri 2. Shhhhhhh!
Don’t worry, I’ll keep Juliet occupied. 😉 She’s pretty much just a bronze statue these days anyway, so I think we’ve got it in the bag.
Does your burning desire to travel keep you up at night?
Do you speak any other languages?
If no, are you an expert in skiing/snowboarding/sailing/scuba diving?
No? Well, worry no more. If you are reading this blog and understand all of my slang, phrasal verbs, use of the verb “to get” and collocations, your English is your golden ticket to a life abroad.
While this is indeed a fictional conversation, I’m certain that it has taken place many thousands of times, over the years, all over the world. If you are wondering how I became such an expert on the topic, the answer is possibly one of the most surprising things that has ever happened to me. I’m a Californian, and I have been living in Bologna, Italy, for two years. My career path twisted and turned enough to dump me out in Italy for what was supposed to be a period of one year. And at the conclusion of that year, I realized I wasn’t nearly ready to return to normal life in the U.S. So, what could I possibly do to sustain myself here? Why, teach English of course.
I wish I had a time machine and could have read my own blog before I moved to Italy. Instead, I spoke less than ten words in Italian when I touched down here two years ago, and had no idea how I would possibly make money. Crazy you say? I think yes. Believe me, getting settled hasn’t been a cakewalk. But every little setback and frustration has been completely and utterly worth it. My time living in Europe is pretty much the most important period of my life to date. I thank my lucky stars that this opportunity fell in my lap.
And now, at the age of 32, with two masters degrees and fifteen years of work experience, I find myself living like a college student in Bologna and spending most of my days hissing like a snake in a hopeless effort to remind my students not to forget the “s” when speaking in the third person.
My English teaching colleagues span the career spectrum from college student to lawyer to security guard, and come from the United States, Australia, and Ireland. You can find us with the heaviest backpacks, standing at bus stops with our lunch in our hands. I can safely say that none of us imagined ourselves as being experts at explaining the usage of the present perfect verb tense, but I guess weirder things have happened. No matter what the economy is like, people will always spend money to learn English, and therefore, there is always a demand for mother tongue English teachers. And that is great news for you, because no matter what your skills are in teaching English – from none to expert – it means you can live wherever you want in the world, and pay your way through this profession. But while becoming an English teacher is quite easy, being a good English teacher is not so easy.
My students watching Obama’s acceptance speech.
A deceptively simple occupation from an outsider’s perspective, the reality is teaching English is a constant juggling act of the infinite needs of a student body that includes every imaginable age, learning type, background, and English level. Being a good English teacher mandates a drive and a determination to rise above the mediocrity of the industry in an effort to not only share the gift of our native language, but to fill the many challenging roles that go along with teaching including diplomacy, psychology, and friendship. This isn’t an easy task. But the payback is exponential (notice the use of “payback” and not “paycheck).
There are circuits of international schools around the world that allow their teachers to spend their lives moving from city to city, teaching at different international schools within the circuit, and exploring different countries. Coincidentally, a close friend of mine from my hometown is doing just that. We ran into each other by chance in Bologna, and after living here for a year and a half, making a living by teaching English at a wealthy private English school, he has now moved on to China, where he is teaching for a private English school owned by Disney. He loves it.
My students at the Mediateca library in San Lazzaro always remind me to wear my jacket.
Not only does teaching allow you to earn the money you need to live in the country of your dreams, but the students you teach help you build the support network you need to acclimate to and live happily in the country of your dreams, which is the least talked about and most important aspect of this job. Every Friday at the local library my longtime students make me feel a little less homesick for my Aunt Suzanne, as they know the ins and outs of my love life and even remind me to wear my jacket. When I miss my nephew, every Monday and Friday I enjoy my youngest student just a little more, especially when I get to help him decorate the Christmas tree, which was especially important this year since I didn’t get to go home for Christmas. When my Saturday afternoon student cried on my shoulder after her boyfriend broke up with her, I felt like the big sister I always wished I was (I’m an only child). And I was overwhelmed when one of my students called me from the hospital just before Christmas to apologize for missing our last class, and to give me the information for a theatre group he was encouraging me to join. Through my students I know the ins and outs of Bologna in a way that some of my Bolognese friends can’t even understand.
I feel utterly blessed, and I wonder how I could have possibly been so remiss as to never have considered moving abroad earlier in my life. But then I remember that after discovering my love of theatre at the age of 11, I’ve spent the better part of my life completely absorbed in my career oriented-ness. Unfortunately, I spent little time pondering what I wanted from life aside from my career goals. How American of me.
I hope that my unexpected adventures as an English teacher will inspire you to think about what you want from life, and not what you want from your job. And if what you want from life somehow includes traveling, all the better. Now you know how to finance it.
And the next time you are in Italy and happen to see someone on the bus reviewing an English grammar book, do say hello.
International in scope and youthful at heart, Budapest’s style, fascinating history, exploding nightlife, and affordable quality of life make a visit to this city a no-brainer addition your European itinerary. Seriously, don’t miss it.
I wish I could say that I did everything on my Budapest “must see” list. But to be completely honest, I didn’t even come close. A place of both obvious and hidden treasures, it is a matter of time, curiosity, and determination to truly understand it’s potential. To that end, my must-see list was lengthy and impossible to complete in one trip. I never made it to Castle Hill, I never saw the inside of the Parliament Building or St. Stephen’s Basilica. I never even made it to City Park. At face value, my trip seems to be a complete failure.
I admit my youth leads to a overpriority on nightlife when I travel. During wintertime travel, the result is an overwhelming reduction of my daylight touring hours and traditional sightseeing activities. But if there is any city to focus on nightlife, it is in Budapest. Not partaking in Budapest’s robust nightlife means not truly experiencing what makes this city unique. Thousands of young, international tourists fill the streets after dark, exploring the city by night with the help of new friends and word of mouth about the underground nightlife scene, including a never-ending supply of ruin bars, expanding every notion you’ve ever had about what to expect from a bar or club. My favorite was Szimpla Kert, a place defining the unexpected, boasting a multi-level open floor-plan with a maze of staircases, balconies and small rooms, of which the cherry on top of the randomness was a pile of giant peeled carrots on the bar, and a copy machine in the middle of one of the main rooms downstairs. Another unforgettable night was the party at the Rudas Thermal Baths, which are open until 4am on Saturday night. We showed up at 1:30am.
I could go on and on, but I’m not going to ramble. Instead, I am going to let some of my pictures speak for themselves. And I’m also expecting you to go…asap. Because there’s more where this came from. And you know, the best part about having leftovers on my “must see” list? I have to go back soon… Slide show of my favorite Budapest photos.
In all honesty, when my best friend suggested we spend Christmas in Ljubljana, my first response was, “Wait, what did you say?” I’d never actually heard this city’s name spoken before and I was baffled when my friend first uttered it.
After this awkward beginning to our vacation planning, you can imagine how pleasantly surprised I was to eventually find ourselves in the capital of Slovenia, in the midst of a city that skillfully manipulates its many resources with more than ideal results.
Considered one of the safest national capitals in the world, one of its claims to fame is it has no claims to fame. A trip to Ljubljana is simply an exercise of complete cultural immersion and no stress – it is totally walkable, it is in the Eurozone, and it is more than affordable. Which, to me, spells out “perfect weekend getaway,” or a nice addition to an already busy travel itinerary with just a little space left.
Ljubljana has lots to give, so it really just depends on what you are looking for. Every building in the historic city center seems to warrant a study in architecture, not to mention Ljubljana’s landmark castle, which perches on a hill overlooking the city and sports a fantastic restaurant. There are a plethora of good local wines (only two or three euro per glass!), a fun yet casual nightlife (thanks to the local university), thermal pools, museums, and both local and international tasty treats to choose from. What more could you ask for?
To top it off, the heart of the city center hugs a picturesque river framed by weeping willows. Deciding where to spend an evening in Ljubljana is as simple as following the gentle curve of the river, which will take you by many of the popular bars and restaurants in the center. If you are indecisive, you can even zig-zag back across the river with the help of a series of bridges, seeming more like art pieces than something meant for practical use. Summer can’t come soon enough, when I plan to return to Ljubljana and spend a lazy Saturday afternoon sitting on a patio along the river, enjoying a long meal, and people watching.
My best friend Lena and I visited Ljubljana over Christmas, so our experience was distinctly holiday infused. Unbeknownst to us, Ljubljana seems to be ground zero for holiday decorations, with decorations in every corner of the city and an endless series of what could best be described as whimsically beautiful Christmas lights following the river which culminates in a Christmas market in the main square. I can say, in all my travels, I have never seen more imaginative Christmas decorations. Arriving on Christmas eve at 10pm, we had resigned ourselves to eating take-out pizza and going to bed at 11pm, and were instead whisked into the whirlwind and magic which is Ljubljana on Christmas eve, where the city center is the place to see and be seen. Families and friends meet in the center to enjoy the festivity along the river, mulled wine, tasty treats, and last-minute shopping at the market.
The only challenge with visiting Ljubljana is getting there. While it borders many countries: Italy, Croatia, Hungary, and Austria, existing conflicts in train travel between Hungary and Italy have led to a dearth of direct trains from either country. Your options are buses, planes, or trains from Austria or Croatia.
I couldn’t be prouder that I have come so far as not only being a proponent of making this city a destination in your European travel planning but also proudly letting the city’s name roll off my tongue: I heart lyoo-BLYAH-nah. 🙂
One of my favorite stories about Italians adventuring in America has come from one of my best English students, a very established Bolognese marketing professional, who knows more about American politics than I do. He wrote this story about his first trip to the United States, when he went alone several decades ago before he was even twenty years old. The first time he read it to me, I died laughing. Hope you enjoy it nearly as much as I did.
My impressions about my journey in the United States.
By Paolo, October 2012
I was in Mexico at the end of February during a journey that I had begun two months before, and as you are probably aware, it was warm over there. Suddenly I decided to go to New York, but in New York it was winter. I left Bologna, Italy only with summer clothes because I had planned to go to the USA on another trip late in spring. Well just a few days later I left Mexico and I touched down at J.F. Kennedy airport when I was under twenty years-old, without knowing English, without a hotel reservation and during the winter dressed in summer clothes. It didn’t seem too bad!
I remember that at the gate of the airport I wore an alpaca overcoat that I had bought in Peru… but only as a present for a friend of mine. But my friend was a skinny girl! So imagine, I arrived at customs, dressed like a hippy, with long hair and wearing this weird overcoat, Jimi Hendrix style. They frisked me!
I found a taxi who drove me to Manhattan. I got out of the taxi, right in front of a hotel. I took my suitcases which were very heavy because I had bought some stone objects, and I went into the hotel. It was fully booked! I found myself in the middle of a street not knowing exactly where I was, without an idea of where I could go. In addition it was getting dark and mean characters were coming towards me. I was getting scared about the situation. I tried three or four other hotels and eventually I found a room. The receptionist understood my position and smiled at me. I went in the room and I had a warm bath. After my bath I stopped me in front of a window and I looked at the roofs covered by the snow and …I was in Manhattan!
