Back to Reality... briefly.

Last week I went on holiday, to the glamorous destination of Home. It was a really lovely trip, however brief. This was a whirlwind tour, calling in three counties in just six days. It was a wonderful though, due to both the pleasure of spending time with my family and friends; and the peace of mind I got from sorting out some administration and logistical elements regarding my upcoming return to reality.

The act of going home is simple as are the feelings are warmth and ease that it gives. It’s an age old and pure idea which is rooted in the very centre of who we all are. We can always take a step back, return to the place we started from and the people who love and know us best and figure out how best to move forward. The moving forward part is the challenge and even though I wasn’t at home in Essex for most of my trip I was so grateful to my patient and loving parents for putting up with my incessant phonecalls about housing and module selections. Mostly that just told me that I was making sense and making good choices, but sometimes all you need is someone who knows you well to say ‘yes, that sounds good. It’s a good choice for you’.

As a side note, other amazing things about home which brought a smile to my face with their sheer simplicity included getting off the plane to non-humid, crisp, albeit a bit chilly air (it’s different in other places!); rain that just drizzles nicely rather than simulating monsoon season; red meat in crazy served with any kind of potato; using my iPhone and having a very hectic ‘recent’ list; and Cadbury’s chocolate.

I began my mini-tour of the UK with a much needed trip to Warwick Uni, to see so many of the beautiful people I’ve been missing, meet the new RAG exec (which I am so proud to be a member of), hand in some boring paperworky things and check out and sign  for my house for next year. Busy, busy, busy!

I stayed with my friend Charlie, who is currently a very busy bee with all things Physics related and more, and so I think/hope he didn’t think me horribly rude for being here, there and everywhere whilst abusing his hospitality. Here’s what I managed to squash into my 3 and half uni days, he’ll probably be interested to know where I kept disappearing to, in fact...

Monday was an early start and the train to Leamington Spa, where the lovely Tara (as mentioned here and here) met me, having jumped on a train from Birmingham.  We had a pub lunch and did some shopping, kitting me out with a new bikini for what I hope will be a very sunny summer. I then went onto campus to meet up with Charlie for some ‘yay, one exam down’ drinks... which of course resulted in a plan to go out. Notorious Mondays are always a laugh and I had a brilliant time, both catching up with some of my friends at re-drinks and bumping into so many mates at the club. I did enjoy every double take, dropped jaw and ‘You’re back?!’, always followed by a big hug.

Despite all this nocturnal fun, Tuesday was another early start and a very productive day! I began with addressing my housing situation for next year, which has been a many month long saga- things are harder when your not in the country! I'm really excited about the group I'm living with though and our awesome location. Having finally viewed the flat I signed the contracts, only 6 weeks later than the rest of the gang and then headed off for a catch up with my friend, Lucy. This was a great catch up and I got to grill her on some second year modules, which she's been taking this year in order to get her and investigate some module based rumours that I'd been hearing. More about that later.

Tuesday evening began with a RAG meeting. I was so chuffed when I was voted RAG week co-ordinator for next academic year, and have been feeling guilty about my absence and consequent lack of involvement since being elected, and so this was a brilliant opportunity to get to know the new exec and talk about what's going on and to share what Beavis, the President, and I had been brainstorming about RAG Week! I'm really excited to get back to these lovely people and do some good work in the autumn. Will also be digging into organisation very soon.

Unlike here in Italy, back home we have to apply and request modules nice and early and so these decisions have been on my mind for weeks now. You may remember how the Venice visit of March served as an information point about modules offered by the Italian department and so I sorted out three out of four modules for next year then and there. However, my English option has given me much food for thought over the past few weeks and whilst having a fairly good idea of what I wanted to do this uni visit was the perfect opportunity to both catch up and grill some of my fellow English Lit students. Between that resolve, those chats and the aforementioned 'I think I'm doing the right thing Mum? Dad? Yes?' phonecalls I fnalised my decision and submitted my form (early, I may add). Sorry David, Lucy, Ella and Sam! And a huge Thank You for all of your insights! I felt both relieved and pleased to have the decision made and out of my hands. First choice: 'The English Nineteenth Century Novel', with 'Literature of the Second World War' and 'Victorian and Romantic Poetry' as back ups. I think I'll be happy with whichever I get, and there's always final year if I find myself longing to do one of the others.

With the lovely Will You remember him from here

Wednesday was another mad day with key features including seeing Sarah, my friend and future housemate, to catch up and discuss the house a little bit. A tiny bit, in fact. Other things seemed so much more important at the time. During this epic teatime I got a text from Charlie and duly agreed to a night out at the SU (Student Union). This was a very easy concession to make as Wednesday in sports' night, the Union is packed and the music is old, cheesy and very easy to have a silly dance and sing-a-long to. So much fun!

Thursday morning called for the much anticipated coffee date with the wonderful Mr Sam Clarke, who I was very disappointed to miss out on seeing over Christmas We didn't have much time as he was between a lecture and seminar but we caught up nicely on what we'd both been doing, followed up with questions about letters and we've started plotting some fun for when I'm back in the UK 'for real'. After this and another impromptu coffee with my friend, Felicity, I headed off to Banbury to see Fiona. You may remember her from my birthday.

With my Bestie

Fiona is one of my very best friends and one of our greatest grievances is that it's this year, this year in which I am in Rome that she is on a work placement in Banbury, only twenty minutes away from my university. Shocking! However, I was very pleased to get to visit her, meet her colleagues and friends and go for steak, because that is what she and I like to do. We then went out for a big night and we had a lot of fun in various establishments with some cheeky offers and cracking tunes- yes, she has made me a fan of Call Me Maybe- but we ended up leaving earlyish as we had so much more to catch up on and so little time together!

Friday was back home to Essex and dinner with my family. I was so sorry to end up having so little time truly at home but we went for a cracking dinner and in true family fashion there was no one single of conversation, but always at least three different ones running simultaneously- which is impressive for a table of five. Later, two of my best friends from school came to join us as well as some of my brother's mates and all told it was a good night.

Unfortunately, Saturday brought a fairly early flight back to Rome and I was greeted by a warm sunshine. You know that excellent moment when you're going on holiday and you get off the lane to find the air so warm and dry that you know you're abroad? It was that! That summer feeling. I was glad to be back, as I'm keenly aware that my time here is running out. I really want to make the most of all the time I have left, but... I'll tell you a secret, after such a short trip home I've been a tad homesick since I got back. I didn't really get enough time with anyone and can't wait to be reunited with them all soon.

But for now, Rome, sun and fun! After all, it won't be long until I'm truly Romesick!

Boats for buses

This is a Venetian bus...

Gondole 

There's nothing more satisfying than that feeling of coming home. This weekend Anna and I realised how enchanted we've become with Rome, as it was with great reluctance that we headed over to Venice. On a 7am flight. Our unwillingness to miss out on Saturday night antics and drag ourselves out on a trip (which we' previously been excited about) is a real testament to how much I now love my life in Rome. Yet duty, or at least Warwick's Italian Department, called and so we headed out... at half three in the morning, to catch a night bus, a coach and a plane to Venice.

Disgruntled 8am faces

When we arrived, at 8am, running off merely two forty five minute naps, we were even less pleased with the state of affairs. However, a morning of aimless wandering in the labyrinth of Venice's streets and watery dead ends we soon calmed down and enjoyed the sunshine by the canals. At first we were amazed by how extremely peaceful the city was, and then we realised that it was in, in fact, Sunday morning and so everyone was taking it easy. Just like Lionel Richie.

After a couple of hours spent like this we thought it was, perhaps, about time to find out where we were staying and having received the address via text (of course we didn't think it was something important to note down before leaving the house!) we bought a map and headed off. Venice truly is a maze and every now and then the road stops dead at a tiny gate to the canals and you have to back track and start again. Therefore mission 'find the hotel' became something of a game... which eventually we won. The university had organised for us all to stay in an old convent and so we were greeted by the tiniest Italian nun who showed us to our room where we promptly passed out until dinner time.

By the time we awoke the rest of the Warwick group had arrived and so there was lots of excited chatter and catching up to be done, topped off the the incredible scream let out by my friend, Lauren, before she ran at me and gave me the biggest hug. We had a midnight curfew to respect and so we swiftly headed out to find dinner and drinks. Drinks here meaning a Spritz-Aperol, which seems to be enormously popular in Venice... and now with our entire group. For the rest of the trip all down time was marked by the query, 'Anyone fancy a Spritz?'

Spritz o'clock

Monday and Tuesday morning were spent with two of our faculty members from Warwick, feeding back on what we'd been up to, how our Module Reports had gone and planning for our return to Warwick. More about that in another blog, I think. It was great to hear what everyone's been up to, that we were not alone in our struggles whilst tackling Italian bureaucracies and  looking forward to which modules we'll be taking next year, because in English Universities, such information is freely available and registration is as easy as pie.

The weather was as beautiful as the city itself and we spent most of our free time breaking off into ever changing small groups (mixing it up so as to guarantee the chance to catch up with everyone) to wander the higgledy-piggledy madess of Venice's tiny streets, sit out in the sunshine by the water and get lots of gelato and numerous rounds of Spritz-Aperol. It was heavenly!

Sitting on the dock of the bay

Catching up over lunch

Catching the sun by the Rialto.

Unfortunately, despite our midnight curfew we all still ended up going to bed far too late every night whilst being expected to breakfast at eight. This compounded with our nocturnal travels left Anna and I equally grumpy on our journey home and we reverted to our happy habit of blissfully ignoring eachother whilst seeking solace within our Kindles. Luckily, the delirium of our over-tired state usually hit us both at about the same time and therefore every now and then the clouds of discontent would clear to make way for insane bursts of song.

All in all it was a good trip. I really enjoyed all the time I got to spend with my Warwick friends, and I think many more advenures will come as a result of this trip (lots of invitations flying about!) and I was some spellbound by the beauty, mystery and elegance of this aquatic city. Yet I cannot deny how happy I was when we finally made it home to Rome and my bed. Venice is fabulous and in the end I enjoyed the trip just as much as I'd orignally anticipated but now it's wonderful to be back in Rome and my fun life here. Because at the end of the day, Rome is where my heart is.

Putting it to the test.

As you know I've been in Rome for five months. Living and breathing Italia. Speaking Italian both academically and socially; both soberly and drunkenly. However, this past week marked the real challenge of my linguistic abilities as I attempted to compose my first Module Report to send home to Warwick. A minimum of 1,500 words to be written in coherent and grammatically correct Italian discussing all that I've studied and sharing my observations of all things roman.

Pause for major freak out and appropriate amount of procrastination.

Now as I’ve mentioned before I am a bit of a geek. I sometimes like to get absorbed in a project and involuntarily secrete the facts and anecdotes I’ve retained over the subsequent weeks, months and sometimes years. I like playing with language to clarify my point and imply more. I also really like plans and lists, colour coding and pretty notebooks.

However, I dislike the notion of things that I ‘must’ do and so very often, unless I get swept away by a very early wave of enthusiasm and obscurity I will leave all things all things that ‘have to’ be done until about three minutes prior to the moment in which they ‘have to’ be accounted for. Don’t judge me, because I know I’m not alone. I have the entirety of the BA Student World behind me.

It’s not procrastination. No, procrastination is all the fun little mini tasks, facebook discoveries and coffee trips one makes mid-writing session. What ails me, and impedes my academic efficiency is ‘the Dread’ That disgruntled, under-appreciated little brother of ‘The Fear’ (often known to come calling and chain students to desks prior to exam season). The Dread is the premonition of how dull the essay, or report, writing process will be. It’s not playing with words, it’s not even the fun research and learning part that leads to colourful spider diagrams and obscure opinions sprawled over various scraps of paper (often covered in biscuit crumbs). No, it’s the hours of drudgery that turn the pretty diagrams and fun debates you’ve been having with your peers (because that’s why we’re on Facebook in the library) into lines of black blobs on white paper. “How many blobs” I hear you cry? Why, however many your tutor has demanded. Eurgh.

I planned my report three weeks ago. Decided exactly how many sections to include and how long each one needed to be. I made lists, thorough lists in a brilliant notebook (hardback, Union Jack cover, red ribbon bookmark- you see the notebook really is more exciting) and with a zest which I can only attribute to my long absence from academia I even wrote the first paragraph more than a week before my deadline. But then it all came flooding back and true to form after two days of extended breaks and excuses (and probably only about two hours of actual writing, because let’s face it, 1,500 words isn’t very much) I was exhausted and my spirit was broken as a stared at my laptop screen and smiled to see my very dry, methodical report about my first semester in Rome.

Obviously I’m exaggerating. I didn’t want to write a report. I didn’t see the point and I know that whoever reads it will probably find their experience equally as dull as my own (writing that is, not Rome). However, the real challenge was that this was the first time, since I began studying Italian aged 11, that I’ve ever had to write an extended piece and it did make me realise how many short cuts we use with languages.

Conversationally, for example, you don’t need to understand every word that comes out of the other person’s mouth. Generally if you understand 7 out of 10 you can take their meaning well enough. When responding it’s ok if you don’t know or forget a word because you can just go round the houses a bit and explain what you mean and check that the other person has understood you. Online and texting we use a million short cuts and no full sentences. Oh, and of course, in an essay you can’t lace a sentence with profanities... although sticking “cazzo” in every sentence would certainly have helped me reach the word count more speedily!

I’m half way through and actually at the end of my report I was pretty pleased. I wrote the thing fairy easily (when I paid attention to the task) and didn’t have to look too many words up. However, my grammar needs some work. By some I mean a lot.

New goal: I’m doing well, now it’s time to do better.