2008 Woodie Awards
Ciao, from Italy
Jenna Rignanese
Issue date: 2/8/07 Section: Features
- Page 1 of 1
As I walk down three flights of marble stairs to the busy sidewalk below, I realize yet another enchanting day is before me, as I swing open the heavy wooden doors.
My new pink scarf is securely fastened and my bag pressed tightly to my chest as I step out onto the cobble-stoned street.
Blue skies and crisp air make for another beautiful day in Italy. The kind that starts early with a rush of excitement, like doing cartwheels down a hill, and ends late with the sounds of Italian men arguing and the steady pace of the tram outside.
I make my regular stop at Ernesto's bar, where a cappuccino and pastry of my choice is waiting for me bright and early each day. A welcoming man, speaking no English, bustles around the café taking orders. As Ernesto situates his regular customers at the quant square tables laced with red and white-checkered clothes, he tries to shove pizza in front of you for breakfast. I gracefully turn him down but promise, in my broken Italian, maybe tomorrow.
Running across the steam rising streets, I dodge vespas and buses to reach the overcrowded tram. The stench of the tram is unlike anything in the world but the gypsy musicians make the time go by.
Discovering the Roman city was the excursion of my weekend. The Colloseum seemed large and cold in person. I close my eyes as I try to imagine these ancient warriors battling in this massive arena. Suddenly the sun beats down and the light from the royal blue skies penetrated through the tiny windows and crevices of this enormous circular building. At this moment I knew I was in Rome.
The following morning I wake up at 7 a.m. to a quiet Saturday morning. My friends and I stop for a cappuccino then proceed on to the Vatican City. Our tall and lanky tour guide, Fabio, waits for us at the entrance at 9 a.m. sharp.
Upon entering the museum, my head immediately tilts back to a 90-degree angle as I take in the vibrancy and elegance of the paintings. Seeing these famous murals in person is breathtaking and runs circles around the old textbooks.
As we make our way to the Sistine chapel, a lull of silence takes over the space. Wow, I was really in Rome.
We walked back to the tram after another eventful day, our tired legs collapse onto the hard seats of the bus. It is almost time for siesta.
Each day brings on new wonders, and our travels throughout the rest of Europe are soon to come. Tune in for more next week!
My new pink scarf is securely fastened and my bag pressed tightly to my chest as I step out onto the cobble-stoned street.
Blue skies and crisp air make for another beautiful day in Italy. The kind that starts early with a rush of excitement, like doing cartwheels down a hill, and ends late with the sounds of Italian men arguing and the steady pace of the tram outside.
I make my regular stop at Ernesto's bar, where a cappuccino and pastry of my choice is waiting for me bright and early each day. A welcoming man, speaking no English, bustles around the café taking orders. As Ernesto situates his regular customers at the quant square tables laced with red and white-checkered clothes, he tries to shove pizza in front of you for breakfast. I gracefully turn him down but promise, in my broken Italian, maybe tomorrow.
Running across the steam rising streets, I dodge vespas and buses to reach the overcrowded tram. The stench of the tram is unlike anything in the world but the gypsy musicians make the time go by.
Discovering the Roman city was the excursion of my weekend. The Colloseum seemed large and cold in person. I close my eyes as I try to imagine these ancient warriors battling in this massive arena. Suddenly the sun beats down and the light from the royal blue skies penetrated through the tiny windows and crevices of this enormous circular building. At this moment I knew I was in Rome.
The following morning I wake up at 7 a.m. to a quiet Saturday morning. My friends and I stop for a cappuccino then proceed on to the Vatican City. Our tall and lanky tour guide, Fabio, waits for us at the entrance at 9 a.m. sharp.
Upon entering the museum, my head immediately tilts back to a 90-degree angle as I take in the vibrancy and elegance of the paintings. Seeing these famous murals in person is breathtaking and runs circles around the old textbooks.
As we make our way to the Sistine chapel, a lull of silence takes over the space. Wow, I was really in Rome.
We walked back to the tram after another eventful day, our tired legs collapse onto the hard seats of the bus. It is almost time for siesta.
Each day brings on new wonders, and our travels throughout the rest of Europe are soon to come. Tune in for more next week!
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