Anna in Italy

Goodbye is the Saddest Word

annarisa — Fri, 20 Dec 2013 08:37:00 GMT

So I don't want to say it, even though I'm sitting here now with two hours to go before my dear friend Giulia picks me up to take me to the bus station. Instead of dwelling on the inevitable departure, I prefer to recount an evening we shared last week, at a delightful little town called Montecassiano.

We had just sat our final International Law exam, so we decided to go out to celebrate (both of us ended up getting 100% for the subject, so you could say the celebration was well-deserved :) Basically it was just a nice, quiet, relaxing evening: we arrived early and walked around the town (where there were like no other people, except for some psycho cars every now and then shattering the tranquility). We admired the Christmas lights, and Giulia told me about a number of Italian Christmas traditions and how she normally celebrates Christmas with her family.

Below is one of the streets where we nearly got flattened by a speedy gonzales

After which point we entered a deserted but beautifully decorated plaza

"Auguri" literally means congratulations, (Tanti Auguri a te anyone??) but in this case is probably better translated as "Season's Greetings" or something of the kind

I'm really liking the light effects in the below photo... Who said I wasn't a good photographer??

Then we exited the historical centre and went for a walk outside before dinner. Less history, but just as beautiful in my opinion!

Then we went to the local pub where I have to say I really really enjoyed my dinner. We started with an appetiser of hot, crispy, perfectly fried chips...

Followed by tortellini served in some incredible sauce which I can't remember the name of #GiuliaPleaseHELP!! I NEED to have it again sometime, it was just divine!

And finished with a cappuccino, which despite the waitress saying no one knew how to make cappuccinos properly, turned out to be really nice

Thanks for a lovely evening Giulia. A beautiful memory of my time in Macerata! <3

And this is where I sign of the blog people, as I leave the country in about 12 hours. Thanks to all my faithful readers, and even more to my faithful commenters, It's been a blast being here and I'm glad you guys got to see some of Italy how I've experienced it. Ciiaaaooo

When I finally arrived...

annarisa — Sat, 7 Dec 2013 05:44:00 GMT

... I was able as always to relax in the beautiful atmosphere surrounding Oristano, one of Italy's most peaceful and safe cities. The weather wasn't the greatest, so I was mostly inside, playing cards, table tennis #IngarChiHaVinto :-) and telling riddles. The albatross riddle was a great hit with the Italians, for those of you who know that one.

Ann Yvonne and Andrea's 4 boys for once not overflowing with energy but happy to play quietly inside.

We went out shopping for some Christmas decorations and I managed to stop Anton from chasing a Chihuahua long enough to snap this photo, but it wasn't easy... He's a darling of a boy who absolutely cannot keep still most of the time :)

On Sunday morning we went to watch Kore play a game of indoor soccer. It was seriously exciting and fun to watch. Kore scored the first goal of the match and we cheered like crazy (I nearly fell down the bleachers in the process, LOL)

Didn't get any good photos of the game unfortunately, I was too busy cheering!

Gabri and me in the stands

Anyway basically Kore's team totally dominated, they won 7-1. What can I say? Sara won her volleyball last week when I was cheering: I obviously bring good luck when I go watch people's games!!

Me and Kore afterwards; IMO: player of the match!

And this is a picture of most of the gang one night. Except Sala isn't on it, cos she took the photo :( This is another one of those photos I just love, I feel like the very different personalities are so obvious in the various postures and facial expressions :D

Thanks for another awesome visit guys. Love you all to bits!! xxooxx

Sardinian Odyssey

annarisa — Sat, 7 Dec 2013 05:14:00 GMT

Ok can I just ask one thing? What is with me and not being able to have even one normal journey from one place to another? You know what I’m saying… Just a calm, relaxed, catch-the-train-from-here, and then the train is on time so there is no-trouble-with-the-connection, and so on and so forth. I feel like I am pursued with drama, complications and unforeseen circumstances wherever I go. Sometimes my fault, other times emphatically not!

I am, of course, referring to something specific: my trip to Sardinia on the weekend. Or perhaps I should refer to it as My Odyssey to Sardinia, cos that’s pretty much what it felt like.

Let me take you back to last Thursday, when the journey began. Basically on Tuesday night, I think it was, the clouds opened above northern Italy and dumped I don’t know how much snow on the country. Metres and metres, the place was in chaos. This snow was still well and truly present on Thursday. So the question was, would the trains be going to Rome? (I always fly to Sardinia from the airport in Rome.) I arrived at the train station in an advanced state of nervousness, since I really didn’t know what I was going to do if the trains weren’t going, I had to get to Rome somehow or I was going to miss my flight.

Snow falling in Macerata

View from the department of law

Thus far, however, my fears were groundless. The train rolled up (on time!! believe it or not) and I was soon comfortably seated watching the white countryside roll by. I only had one connection to make, at a station called Fabriano, so I thought this was gonna be a sweet trip for once.

Views from the train window

Boy was I wrong. About an hour later, just after about a million school kids had jumped on the train, the train unaccountably stopped. In the middle of nowhere. Not a station in sight. No one has a clue what is going on of course, least of all me, since it is all happening in Italian. After some minutes, the conductor walks into the carriage to break the news that the train has managed to run over (and unfortunately also kill) a dog. Now I’m sorry to all the dog-lovers out there, but I was basically like, “Ok cool so now we know what the matter is can we just get GOING please?? I’m going to miss my CONNECTION!!” My wishes were not respected, due to the fact that the dog in its death had managed to break something, I have no idea what, some cable or something. So the train was stationary for another half hour or something, during which I was forced to listen to the extremely immature conversation of three school boys sitting next to and across from me. I mean I can’t say I’m 100% sure of what they were saying, but I’m fairly certain they were discussing exactly how the dog would have been killed by the train; i.e. would it have been sliced vertically or horizontally… blah blah blah, totally disgusting I know. Imagine it with the hand gestures!! Then you’ll know how I felt. At least they found it amusing :o)

Moving on, finally the train steamed slowly to the next station, some random country stop, where we all had to descend and wait for the next train (in minus 60 degrees of ice, frost and snow. Obviously by the time this train came I had hopelessly missed my connection at Fabriano, with the result that I hate to wait at Fabriano for the next train to take me to Foligno, where I had to wait AGAIN, and then catch another train to Rome. When I finally made it to Rome, despite major hypothermia and extensive frostbite, I was in excellent health, and extremely happy to note that I could still catch the final bus to the airport (and would not have to spend another night on the streets of Rome).

You would think at this point that all my troubles were over, wouldn’t you? You would be so wrong! Man they hadn’t even started. So I spent another sleepless night at the airport and was bright as a button on Friday morning, ready to fly out to Cagliari. The flight itself was smooth and uneventful. Then I arrived at Cagliari airport. I dashed out of the plane and ran to the station, wanting to catch the train that left at 10am, so I wouldn’t have to wait for the next one which went over an hour later. Problem #1: ticket machine didn’t work. Problem #2: No sign of intelligent life anywhere (by intelligent life I mean railway staff). Problem #3: From what I could tell, the train going to Oristano was cancelled. I nearly died! I was like “somebody please HEEEELP!!” So anyway, this random cleaner comes up to me and a bunch of other people who wanted to go to Oristano, and says “Listen, catch the train to Cagliari (as in the city centre, 5 minutes from the airport) and you’ll defs be able to catch either a bus or train to Oristano from there.” So we actually listened to him (I have no idea why) and caught the train to Cagliari, to discover that no, there were no trains or buses going to Oristano until the afternoon, because there was a massive strike happening.

I mean, come on! Blizzards, dead dogs, strikes?? I was starting to wonder what on earth I had done in this life or a former one to deserve all this. Basically I had reached the limit of my endurance, so I called Ann Yvonne and begged her to pick me up. I felt dreadful, but what could I do?? And being the lovely person she is, she came and drove me safely all the way to her house, where once again I spent a perfectly enchanting weekend with some of my favourite people in the whole world. More details on the perfectly enchanting weekend will appear in the next post, I’m thinking it’s best that I stop this one here. Feel free to share any similar travel stories in your comments; I would love to know that I’m not the only person these things happen to… :)

Sara's Volleyball Match

annarisa — Wed, 27 Nov 2013 07:55:00 GMT

One of my friends from International Law is a very talented and dedicated volleyball player. She trains 5 nights a week and plays matches on Saturday nights. I had been dying to go watch one of her games, so last Saturday, which was one of the first times she was playing a home match when I was actually on the mainland, I decided to go watch her.

Sara’s parents picked me up with Chiara, and we drove to the stadium where we met up with Caterina (two other girls from class). Before the game started we held a minute’s silence for the disaster in Sardinia – this has been happening all over the country since the hurricane struck.

Caterina, me and Chiara in the stands

I have to admit I didn’t know how good Sara was. But she’s actually in the B-league (or its equivalent) and the play was amazing. In fact I should say it was exactly the level of play I enjoy watching the most. I mean you know what it’s like with Olympic men’s volleyball: one guy does this enormous jump serve that flashes so fast over the net you can’t even see the ball, and then the other side sets the ball up, the entire front row runs up to spike, the entire front row on the other side runs up to block, and you get one massive guy jumping about three metres into the air and pounding the ball with all his might over the net. It thunders into the block and either goes down to the ground on the attacking side (successful block) or on the defending side (unsuccessful block). Each rally lasts an average of 3-4 seconds, and let’s be honest, huge volleyball fan though I am, it’s not really my cup of tea.

But this match was different. It was terribly exciting! The players were all really good, the rallies lasted longer, and they played fast but you could actually follow the ball. Sara was especially good at the fast spikes, you know the ones where the ball is set up just over the net and then smashed over before the other side has time to form the block. Less height = less power, but the element of surprise can be very effective! And she’s also amazing at blocking, apparently her nickname is “Muro” (wall). If you check out the video, she’s in both those blocks that won them the point.

They lost the first set (best of 5) and I was distraught! But then I got my cheering into gear and yelled with all my might. “FORZA SARA FORZA SARA GOOOO SARA!!!!” (I couldn’t remember the name of the team so I couldn’t cheer for them unfortunately.) I actually thought Sara couldn’t hear me, because she never reacted, but she told me afterwards that she did, so I’m glad I made the effort… :-) Anyway they dominated the rest of the match and came away victorious.

The happy winner :)

Well done on an awesome match Sara! Complimenti!

Drama in Sardinia

annarisa — Sat, 16 Nov 2013 06:30:00 GMT

Last Thursday I set off once again for a few days of rest and relaxation in Sardinia. Little did I know that one of the most embarrassing experiences of my LIFE was shortly to take place in this haven of sunshine, peace and tranquillity.

It all started off as usual. I stepped off the aeroplane into a balmy 25 degrees, and met up with the best friends in the world after a brief train ride. Although I was extremely sleep-deprived from having spent Thursday night (awake) at the airport, I spent a perfect Friday afternoon and Saturday just chilling out in the nice weather and babysitting an adorable little girl called Martina, who hated me at first sight but loved me by the time she had to leave.

Saturday night was when The Event took place. Someone, I’m not sure who, came up with the idea that we should go ten pin bowling. Now I have gone bowling plenty of times in Australia before, and things have always gone just fine, so I don’t know whether it was the fact that I was in Italy or the fact that I hadn’t had enough sleep that was to blame for what happened.

Me, obviously before tragedy struck, since I am smiling

Mattia, Gabriele and Joni

Sala and Ingar

Now everything was going swimmingly until the very last round of bowling. I was the last person in my group to go, so I mean it was the very end. I looked up at the screen and saw that it was my turn to go so I went to choose my bowling bowl (I always go size 10). I picked it up, glanced at the alley, saw that all was clear and did my little run-up to release the ball.

Only as the ball was leaving my hand did I see that—horror upon horrors—the metallic bowling-pin gate was coming down!!! I have no idea of how or why, because I had been sure that it was clear before, but it was most certainly coming down now. Basically I immediately went into hysterics!! I ran back to the bench, buried my head in Ann Yvonne’s shoulder and cried “HELP!!!” Everyone’s eyes were transfixed on the lane, waiting to see if by any miraculous fluke the gate would go up again before my ball reached it. It was not to be. With a thundering CRASH that shook the whole building the ball impacted with the gate which instantly stopped moving! I had entertained a faint hope that possibly nothing would happen when a heavy bowling bowl travelling at high speed collided with the delicate machinery that comprised the pin gate, but this proved to be a vain one.

Seriously guys, can you even begin to imagine how I felt?? I was just thinking, WAAAAHHHH WHY ME????!!!!! I’m about to get shot by the owners of the centre, and I can’t even speak proper Italian to defend myself (the little I have managed to grasp thus far always seems to vanish completely in moments of stress). So everyone is gaping with open mouths at the scene of the crime, when one of the managers comes over. Since all I was able to stutter was “Mi dispiace” (I’m sorry) about 50 times, which obviously didn’t really serve to enlighten him as to what had actually occurred, Ann Yvonne took on the task of explaining. In the end he was very nice about it; contrary to my gravest fears, I hadn’t actually broken anything, so I was allowed to finish the game, still in a state bordering on complete shock.

After this traumatic experience, I must say the rest of the weekend passed in a relatively quiet and peaceful way. I, however, am scarred for life, and don’t see myself going bowling again in the near future.

Stian practicing a backflip, which I am going to film next time I come and post here

My darling Marco giving me the biggest bear hug ever!

But I have to conclude by thanking the guys down there for yet another enchanting weekend, truly I had a wonderful time!! It breaks my heart to leave, but I'll see you all again in 14 days!!!

Italian Soccer

annarisa — Wed, 6 Nov 2013 08:15:00 GMT

One fine Sunday afternoon I was sitting at my desk dutifully revising my notes for International Law, when I became aware of a persistent, untuneful noise penetrating into the formerly peaceful atmosphere of my room. Despite all my efforts to block it out, I felt my concentration ebbing away, and decided that I needed to go and discover what it was.

I headed outside and the mystery was solved in a matter of minutes, a game of “calcio” (soccer) was taking place at the Macerata stadium, which is literally a few hundred metres down the road from where I live.

Never having attended a soccer game during the whole course of my life, I was bound and determined that I would get a look at this one. Unfortunately there was a high fence around the stadium, and numerous gates which were all locked. I started walking around the stadium to see if, by any chance, there might be an unlocked gate by which I could enter, or alternatively, some tree or shed that I could climb to catch a glimpse of the game.

I did see a dilapidated shed quite shortly, but it didn’t look as though its roof was high enough that climbing it would enable me to see inside the stadium. So I continued on my way, seeing some truly inspirational views of the countryside all around me, and a majestic tree which made me wish I was an artist, because it would have been so perfect to paint.

Then I heard a loud bark, and behold: a clearly frustrated German Shepherd glaring at me from behind a fence. With a strong sense of déjà vu, I immediately turned on my heels and headed back the way I came, deciding that no game of soccer was worth the trauma I had experienced during my last encounter with the canine species (for further details, see “The Dog Story”).

Anyway, it turned out to be a really smart decision, because I happened upon an open gate on the other side, just as I was about to give up. A lady was patrolling it, and when she saw me hesitating she asked if I wanted to come in. I explained that I didn’t have a ticket and she said that didn’t matter, I was welcome.

So I entered, and did get to watch some of the match, but I’m afraid I can’t give any particular details for the rabid soccer fans out there. I mean I guess I could try… here is a summary of what I know about the game.

Location: Stadio Helvia Recina, Macerata
Date: 3^rd of November, 2013
Time: UNKNOWN
Teams: Macerata vs UNKNOWN
Score: UNKNOWN
Goal Scorers: UNKNOWN (were there any?? Not while I was there anyway!)
League: UNKNOWN

Here are a couple of pics of the game, it was very exciting! Just not exciting enough to make me want to stay till the end…

The Day I Made Scones

annarisa — Tue, 29 Oct 2013 00:35:00 GMT

One sunny day I finally decided to make use of the kitchen facilities we have available at the place where I live. I thought to myself, “Anna, let’s just take it nice and easy, we’ll start with something simple.” The idea came like a flash of lightening: scones! I’ve made them before, and they require 3 ingredients. It doesn’t get much easier…

So… the three ingredients. Butter, milk and self-raising flour. Butter? No problem, found it immediately in the supermarket, in the logical place to look (i.e. the refrigerator). Milk? Well I basically had half a bottle left of an undrinkable dairy product that some company had had the effrontery to label as “milk” so I had decided to use that. I mean I couldn’t drink it, so I figured if it was baked it might taste better. After all, it could hardly get worse.

Self-raising flour? Well, here I struck a real hurdle. I couldn’t see anything that looked like it might be self-raising flour in the “flour” section. But then I thought, hey I can just get plain flour and add baking powder to it, I’ve done it before and I know the ratio. Wow, great solution right? Wrong. Do you think I could find baking powder anywhere in the same district? There was plenty of yeast but somehow I didn’t fancy making scones with yeast. Finally I spotted this thing called “Farina che lievita” hidden away in a corner, and on the assumption that “lievita” had something to do with “levitate” and hence “rise”, I bought it.

So I had my three ingredients. To summarise: butter, revolting milk, and flour that I very much hoped would rise but didn’t really know. But I needed to serve it with something. I had jam at home but thought I would just quickly buy some cream. What a joke! I trawled the entire refrigerator section for anything that even looked like it might be cream, with no success. Milk, butter, cheese, pasta and truckloads of yoghurt, but no cream. I gave up for the day and went home. I texted some Italians and asked them if you could actually buy cream in regular supermarkets, and they said “Yes, of course, but it’s usually not in the fridge, you have to look next to the fridge in the long life section.”

The next day I traipsed back to the supermarket to search for cream again. Imagine my rage and despair when I looked in the long life section only to see plenty of the afore-mentioned milks and yoghurts, but again no cream. I was starting to feel like I was in one of those nightmares, destined to look for cream in Italian supermarkets for the rest of my life. Finally I took my life in my hands and approached one of the shop guys who was filling shelves: “Excuse me,” I wept, “But do you guys not sell cream in this shop?” “Of course we sell cream!” he responded in amazement. “You do-o-on’t!” I sobbed, “I’ve looked everywhere and it’s not there!” At this point he very kindly left his work and led me in basically the opposite direction to where I had been previously exploring. I was exceedingly thankful to finally discover the cream in an autonomous little section near the bakery!? (Yeah I don’t get it either…)

Anyway, after the traumatic acquisition of the necessary ingredients, the rest of the baking process was surprisingly smooth. The scones rose as desired and were actually quite a hit with the girls who live here.

Oh and this is just a pic from one night with the three other Australian girls here. I’ve finally found people to play cards with! We played hearts! :):):)

And the Winner is...

annarisa — Mon, 28 Oct 2013 23:01:00 GMT

...my very good friend Anna N! Congratulations!! Your prize will arrive in the mail shortly (when I say shortly, I mean some time before Christmas, I am not in the least convinced of the efficiency of the Italian postal service :)

Thanks to everyone who entered, I was interested to see the range of responses that appeared. But most people confessed they had no idea, so I guess they don't really signify that much, haha.

If anyone is interested in the correct answer, I will confess that the fateful day was the 16th of October 2009, so Anna was just 3 months off the right answer. Argh, that means I totally just forgot about the 4th anniversary, what was I thinking?!? :D

Stay with me people, more updates to come soon on Anna in Italy.

Win a Prize @ Anna in Italy

annarisa — Fri, 18 Oct 2013 05:28:00 GMT

I was ecstatic to note today that my blog has had over 1000 views! What dedication from my faithful readers!! So to show my appreciation to you all, I want to put in place a mini-competition, and give you a chance to win a small prize, sent to you in the mail from Macerata!

All you have to do is answer the question I pose below. The answer cannot be found anywhere in the world except in my head, so I'm afraid research will get you nowhere. All you can do is take an educated guess, and you are limited to one guess each. The competition will close on Sunday, 27th of October, 23:59 CET, and the person who is closest to the correct answer will win the prize.

What was the date when I first fell in love with Italy (the country) and Italian (the language)?

Answers can be posted in the comments, and will require day, month and year in order to be valid entries.

Good luck!!

Back to the Land of Sunshine

annarisa — Wed, 16 Oct 2013 08:03:00 GMT

Ok so the minute I stepped off the aeroplane into the blazing sunshine on the Mediterranean island of Sardinia I asked myself why I am actually living in Macerata. And I just spent the most amazing weekend of my life there, seriously it was just so nice and fun and relaxing and totally enchanting, the English language does not possess words to describe it. So instead of writing the usual novel on what I did, I shall attempt to be more brief and let the pictures tell the story.

It has come to my attention that people reading my blog on some smart phones can’t “hover the mouse” over the pics to see what they are about, so I’ll write the descriptions above the photos, at least in this post. And as this is a public website, I’m not putting surnames of the people here, if you really want to know who they are, you can ask me or someone else who knows.

Anyway I arrived in Sardinia on Friday morning after a rather traumatic journey (which I will not go into here, but it involved spending a night on the streets of Rome, see picture below).

But that vanished like a bad dream when I could enjoy the incredible beauty of the countryside surrounding Oristano, looking its best in the autumn sunshine. I stayed with Ann Yvonne and Andrea #bestFamilyEver and their four extremely energetic and athletic boys while I was there. I went for bike rides, greeted the chickens and ducks, built sand castles, and played games outside with the kids during the day on Friday and Saturday.

Even the fact that I am the world's worst photographer can't stop Marco and Anton being adorably cute!

And here are the big boys: Stian and Mino

In the evenings we met up with friends, socialised, watched significant events being broadcast on international TV, played cards, ate delicious food, and… played Mafia. Playing Mafia with Italians is an experience in itself, it added a whole new dimension to the game! :)

Sala and Martina (below)

Gabriele and Ingar

Sunday was an absolutely magical day. We drove to a nearby mountain (actually an extinct volcano I was told) and went for a lovely walk in the forest. The weather was perfect and the scenery exquisite! Then we came back and had a barbeque lunch #thanksJoni&Stian—I really enjoyed my hamburgers! After lunch some of us randomly went off into the woods with a long rope intending to make a swing off one of the trees; this would have been totally illegal back home but it was fine here. We weren’t entirely successful in making a functional and safe swing, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. And we had a lot of fun and laughs in the attempt.

Joni, who gave up the walk to be the chef :)

I just love this picture: Ingar, me and Kore in a huge tree above the picnic table

My angel Marco (#ThanksSalaforsomeawesomephotos)

Me and Kore at lunch

Lydia and Mattia #AwesomeCouple

And the best Salome in the world!! <3 Miss you :(:(

On Monday Lydia took me to the beach for a couple of hours before I had to leave. Again the beauty around me was just breathtaking, and I knew that my heart would break when I had to leave.

We wanted a photo, but we had to check that we had no food between our teeth first :D

Thanks for an awesome day Lydia!

And my heart did break, I cried on the train all the way to the airport. Ok that’s a slight exaggeration, but I promise I did shed tears; it was just dreadful saying goodbye to everyone. However, about 8 hours after I was home in Macerata I had booked a ticket back, so I will return to the land of sunshine in 3 and a half weeks. Fortunately!

Cagliari airport, seen through a mist of tears

And catching the plane out of Sardinia #brokenHeart

Week 5

annarisa — Thu, 10 Oct 2013 08:37:00 GMT

Well it’s been about a week since my last update, but I can’t say I’ve really had any life changing experiences in the last seven days (such as avoiding more traumatic deaths by Italian dogs) so if you’re looking for stories of adventure and inspiration, I advise you to skip this post. It’s just a bit of an update for the faithful few readers out there.

The first momentous news item would have to be the historic change in weather. If anyone knows what Melbourne weather is like, imagine the complete opposite. Rather than changeable, never-know-what’s-coming-next weather, it is extremely constant and predicable. For my first month here, the weather was as perfect as my heart could have desired, with warm sunshine and blue skies all day every day. Less than a week ago, it turned and I am now living in the bleak midwinter (for evidence: check out the photos). Fortunately I brought enough winter clothes with me to survive, and even more fortunately I’m about to leave for Sardinia for the weekend, where the weather forecast is for beautiful sunshine, so I’m really looking forward to that!!!

This week I discovered the library in the department of law. You know how libraries are supposed to be quiet places? Well in Italy, they are not quiet, they are dead silent. If you whisper, you cop angry looks, everyone just has their head down and there is zero communication. I took one photo of the library, and I kid you not, the click of the shutter sounded like a gunshot! Every head within 50 metres snapped up to stare at me; it would have been funny if it weren’t so embarrassing!! So considering what the photo cost me, I thought I’d better post it here, even though it’s not that amazing from an artistic point of view.

One little story before I go, that illustrates the cultural divide between Italy and Australia. And this can serve as a warning to any Australians wishing to study in Italy: don’t do what I did! This morning I’d decided to go and see my lecturer for International Law, Paolo Palchetti, during his office hours, to ask him a number of questions on some of the subject matter. I walked into the building where his office was and approached the receptionist (a man maybe in his 50’s).

“Excuse me,” I said politely (in Italian). “I’m looking for Paolo.” If looks could kill, I would have been dead on the floor with a dagger through my heart.

“Do you mean Professor Palchetti???!!!!” he asked in an outraged tone of voice (there is no other word for it).

“Ummm, yes?” I squeaked in utter terror, looking around for an exit in case I should need to make a quick escape.

“He’s upstairs!” the receptionist informed me, and his tone of voice wasn’t getting any friendlier. I stammered a thank you and bolted.

The interesting thing is that when I told this to the other Italian students (I could see the funny side a couple of hours later) they didn’t think it was that strange at all. Apparently I had been totally rude to ask after a lecturer by his first name, this is just not done in Italy. Ah well, at least I know now, you live and learn! :)

The Dog Story

annarisa — Wed, 2 Oct 2013 03:25:00 GMT

One thing you should know about Macerata if you’re ever planning on coming here is that it is a town swarming with dogs. Big dogs, little dogs—all over the place! Of course, you guys know me, the biggest dog lover out there, so this poses no problem whatsoever, you could almost say it’s my favourite part of living here. However, the story I am about to relate does not concern the generally well-behaved dogs-on-leashes you find in the city centre and public gardens. Warning: the following story is not for sensitive readers!! Parental guidance recommended for children under 15!

So today I decided I was going to go for a walk. I’ve had some headaches and haven’t been sleeping too well, so I had the bright idea that maybe some fresh air would do me good! Great idea, wasn’t it? Well, in theory, yes. However, unfortunately I forgot to bring my sub-machine gun along on the walk, the results of which were consequently not as positive as might otherwise have been anticipated.

Anyway, so I’m cruising along down a country lane, the sun’s shining on and off, the weather’s pretty much perfect for taking a walk: not too hot and not too cold. The first sign of possible trouble is in the form of an enormous WOOF in my ear as I’m walking past a garden. I turn my head to see a white dog approximately the size of a Shetland pony staring at me longingly through the fence. Fortunately its elephantine size hinders it from getting through the fence as it obviously wants to; this, of course, does not prevent it from running along next to me barking encouragingly for the length of the property. I’m not at all fazed by this: I simply do an Owen and put my finger in the ear closest to the animal, and stroll along calmly without changing my pace. I won’t be dictated to by a mere dog.

A hundred metres further down the road I see the dog’s cousin—i.e. huge, white and hairy—in a garden which is kind of down an embankment, also barking excitedly. To my unbounded horror, I realise that this dog is in fact not enclosed in the garden, but actually on the loose and making use of its freedom to come galloping up the hill toward me. I’m obviously terrified out of my wits, but you know, I’m thinking “Anna you can do this! Dogs can smell fear, so don’t be scared!! Dogs can smell fear!! Whatever you do, just don’t be scared!” So I stick out my hand and courageously start scratching its head in what I hope is a professional dog-handler’s manner. To my outrage and disgust I notice a number of black things on its white fur that I can only assume are fleas. I also have to endure the dog sniffing and licking all over my hand and am forced sacrifice my watch to its antisocial behaviours. Anyway after 30 seconds of this I’ve had enough and decide I want to keep moving. The dog (hereafter the monster) is having none of this, and starts—I kid you not—leaping up on me, putting its dirty paws on my shoulders, my clean singlet, &etc. I try telling it to “go” in both English and Italian without much success. Finally I just force my way past and pretend nothing is happening. The monster, of course, starts following me down the deserted road, first gallivanting behind, then in front of me, then “sniffing my hand with its teeth” (#JamesAllen: otherwise known as “biting”). However, just when I start pulling out my phone with the firm intention of obtaining some photographic evidence of this harassment by an Italian canine, the monster decides to run away, possibly thinking I’m calling the police.

I heave a huge sigh of relief and keep walking. I have peace for maybe another 10 minutes, and then, lo and behold, another rabid dog free to persecute innocent passers-by.

What is with Italian dog-owners and not understanding to keep their dangerous beasts in barbed wire enclosures?? This dog is about a quarter of the size of last one, but it’s still large enough to cause me some discomfort, with similar uncontrolled “leaping” habits and the identical intention of following me to the ends of the earth. In addition to being hideously ugly, however, this dog is also intelligent. I’m almost at the point when I’m ready to stop one of the cars passing by and ask its occupants to rescue me from this pest of an animal, but the problem is that whenever a car comes, the dog dives into the nearest bushes and disappears, so I have no evidence. Of course it reappears as soon as the car has driven by. I managed to get a picture of this dog, you can see it below, I mean this is clear, unedited proof that it was actually trying to eat me.

Anyway I’m continuing down the road doing my best to ignore the unwanted company when I see a sight that makes me almost faint with fear: THREE members of the canine species streaking down a driveway toward me. And these are not white, Shetland pony sized dogs; they are black, lean machines that look like Doberman-Pit bull crosses. I actually think my last hour on earth has come; I see no humans that could conceivably offer me assistance if all four of these dogs decide to attack me—and make no mistake, the three newcomers look very prepared to attack.

I do not stop, but keep walking, putting one foot after the other, and hoping the end will be swift. After a few seconds, I realise that the vicious dogs don’t appear to be coming any closer. I risk a quick turn of the head and guess what?? The three dogs have set on the one that was following me, and they are all of them having a huge discussion/fight/game together. I don’t stop to analyse the situation closely, as far as I’m concerned, if the dog that was following me gets eaten by these three newcomers then its owner is to blame for not keeping it on his own property. I’m just thankful that I am still alive to tell the tale!

This marks the end of the traumatic experience otherwise known as “Anna’s first and last walk in the countryside of Macerata.” I hope you enjoyed it, more updates to come soon here on Anna in Italy.

And the Studies Have Commenced

annarisa — Fri, 27 Sep 2013 21:04:00 GMT

This week I attended class for the first time in Italy: I had 6 hours of International Law, which is a third year subject taught in English. I'm getting a nice, easy introduction to studying here, with one subject this week, another one starting next week, and a third the week after. All in all I expect I'll be having about 14 or 15 contact hours per week, which is similar to what I had back home.

Let's be honest: I was pretty much terrified going into my first class, not having the slightest idea of what to expect, and knowing only that the Italian University system is completely different to the Australian one (this was all I had been able to establish prior to the first lecture).

However, my fears were groundless. The lecturer, whose name is Paolo, turned out to be very nice, very good at English, and very astonished at the fact that he had an native English speaker in his class (everyone else was Italian except for one Spanish girl). I obviously have a huge advantage over the other members of the class in that the language doesn't present a problem for me, however all the others are third year law students, who have studied law in depth for two years, so there I notice that I am rather at a disadvantage; I don't have the same "knowledge base" as they do.

If anyone wants to know what it is like to study at a university in Italy, I will tell you. You attend lectures, frantically take notes for two hours while the lecturer talks at the front of the class, buy the textbook, read the textbook, and sit the exam. That's it. There are no tutorials, no homework tasks, no essays, no group assignments, and no oral presentations. The exam is usually worth 100% of your final mark. And it is very often an oral exam, something that nearly gave me heart failure when I first heard it. Fortunately though, at least for International Law, the exam will be a written one.

Hmm what else is new? Oh yeah, there's a HUGE market on Wednesday mornings in the city centre, with literally hundreds of stalls lining the streets. Even for a non-shopper like myself, I must say it was no small task to resist the temptation to purchase a stack of clothes, shoes, handbags and other accessories, all at very reasonable prices.

The weather is still absolutely lovely here, I'm starting to wonder if it will ever actually get cold. I don't think it's rained once since I got here - we need to figure out a way to import this weather to Australia.

Anyway I'll sign off here for now, and wish you all a fantastic weekend!

The Days Go By

annarisa — Thu, 19 Sep 2013 00:02:00 GMT

And time ticks on here in Macerata at pretty much the same rate as other parts of the world, though it's a little more relaxed here and I feel like I have more time on my hands. However, this doesn't mean I am sitting around doing nothing. By far the most common question I am getting from people is "But what are you doing with yourself there?" as if there is actually nothing to do outside the sprawling metropolis of Melbourne. So in this post I will attempt to inform people what I have been doing since I arrived in Macerata.

1. Enrolment, administration, paperwork & registrations ad infinitum

Make no mistake, there is enough of this when you come to a different country. I’ve had to enrol in the university, apply for a bus pass, apply for a “codice fiscale” (don’t ask me what that is in English, some social security number), apply for a university canteen pass (well I haven’t actually done this yet, I took one look at the application and gave up) and go through the traumatic experience of applying for residency. And the bureaucracy here is quite astonishingly sluggish; it appears to be impossible to get anything accomplished at one location. You arrive somewhere, take a ticket and wait in line for an hour, then you get a form filled out and stamped and are told to go somewhere else. And of course, when you get to the next place, it is probably closed, because Italian office hours are the most unpredictable of any I have ever seen. One place is open from 8:30-12:30, the next one from 2:30-5:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and etc. The residency application is a story in itself, but I won’t put it here, it’s rather long and I wouldn’t want to bore you guys. Anyway, the point is, I’m glad I’ve had time on my hands, because it hasn’t been an issue for me. I’ve been able to just go home and come back the next time the office is open, no stress :-)

2. Soaking up the sun in preparation for yet another winter

Since I am probably going to miss most of the Australian summer, I feel justified in getting as much sun as I can now. So I’ve been chilling out on the terrace reading, and I took the train out to the beach last weekend and got suuunbuuurnt. But it was a beautiful day and a lovely beach, though not as nice as those I saw in Sardinia.

3. Finding my way around the rabbit warren that is Macerata

I found the labyrinth of streets, particularly in the old city, to be quite daunting at first, but I’ve been taking walks there almost every day, in the hope that when uni commences next week I will be able to find my way around and get to classes without my nose stuck in a map. See, the University of Macerata isn’t like La Trobe Uni, or indeed any other university I have seen in Australia, where you have campuses, and everything you need is located on the campus. It’s basically just buildings scattered around the city, with classrooms, lecture theatres, faculty offices, and at least 8 different libraries strewn all over the place.

I’ve also been checking out cheap places to eat, since I hate cooking, and buying groceries from the local supermarkets. Grocery shopping is actually a huge project, because none of the brands are familiar (except Nutella) and so I have to actually read what all the products are before I buy them. And I have to say I have yet to discover a shop that sells edible bread, apparently it’s not a staple here unless used in pizza.

I discovered the most gorgeous public gardens here at the end of last week, and have been heading down there almost every day since. I think they must be the only flat place in Macerata, because practically the whole town seems to go jogging there in the evenings.

4. Practicing my Italian

In many places I have been giving out that I am Norwegian, so that people won’t automatically start speaking English to me. It has worked fairly well, and I feel like I’m getting quite a bit of training. The subjunctive tense has, however, been nothing less than a disaster for me. Every time I open my mouth with this tense, the locals gape in shock and either give me this huge thumbs-up or start to laugh. It’s really embarrassing!!! One Italian girl said to me after I had used it (and I quote): “I giovani in Italia dicono che il congiuntivo è morto.” #Nicky #Luigi #Michele: well that was three wasted years of blood, sweat and tears learning it... :-)

Ahhh this post was supposed to be a short one, but it ran away with me again. I’ll keep you guys posted on other stuff that happens here, particularly when my classes start. Ciao for now!

LE11

The Story Begins

annarisa — Sun, 15 Sep 2013 22:37:00 GMT

So now I'm going to start talking about what it's actually like for an Australian to live in a small university town in Italy. But first things first: let's get the pronunciation right. Macerata is not, I repeat NOT, pronounced Musssssssserata. Say it with me: "Much" + "e" (as in "E"llen or "E"dward) + "rata" (as in pro "rata"). That's right, Muche'rahta, and if you throw in the Italian "r" you will even impress the locals :) Anyway, I'll start by answering some common questions...

Where am I living?

I'm staying in a house for female students, 5 minutes by bus to the city centre, but I often choose to walk, as the weather has been beautiful so far. I have my own bedroom and bathroom, and I share a kitchen, laundry and living area with a bunch of other girls. I think when semester starts I could be sharing these with up to 12 girls, but so far there's only been 3 or 4 of us, so it's been really nice.

What is Macerata like?

Macerata is a city built on the side of a mountain. They call it a hill, but you can take it from me it's a mountain. The views from almost anywhere are absolutely beyond belief, and the air is so pure you can see for miles in any direction. I had this idea that Europe is totally polluted, I thought I'd heard that somewhere, but I can't see any signs of it here. You stand at a lookout point (which is practically any place where you're not looking up at the mountain itself) and you can see details on the horizon sooo far away, but it's not blurred at all, the mountain edges are sharply outlined against the sky. I don't know how to explain myself, but trust me, it's amazing. The photos absolutely do not do it justice, you can't get that feeling of depth in a photo, it's just breathtaking.

The downside of this is of course the millions of stair cases and ramps that must be traversed no matter where you want to go. And for someone like me, who has no trouble losing my way in flat places, I am now managing to get lost in 3 dimensions. Seriously, on my first day here I was looking for Piazza della Liberta (Liberty Plaza) which is basically the dead centre of the city. I asked a lady where it was, and she's like "Oh, you took the wrong turn back there. Go in to that building, climb the stairs, and you'll be close to the plaza when you get to the top." I'm thinking to myself, "You have got to be joking!" but not knowing what else to do, I followed her instructions. I went in, climbed at least five flights of stairs, and exited at the top. And there was the plaza, not 100 metres away!

The city seems to me to be divided into 2 parts, the city centre/inner city/city proper/old city and the rest. The inner city is surrounded by a thick wall (Jericho springs to mind!) which looks positively medieval. Inside the streets are narrow and cobbled, the buildings super old, and there are churches and statues and fountains everywhere. Outside the walls, the city resembles regular cities that you would see around the world, with wider streets, lots of shops, public gardens, apartment blocks, etc.

Do I feel safe here?

This is an interesting one. All I can say is that from what I've seen so far, there is an absolute abundance of police around here. Whether this is an indication that there is a lot of crime, or no crime at all I couldn't really say, but basically it's hard to feel frightened when there are police cars driving past you every 30 seconds. I am not kidding, I have seen at least 4 different types of the regular police cars (Polizia Locale, Polizia Municipale, Polizia Provinciale, Polizia Statale) since I got here, and this is in addition to the black Carabinieri cars buzzing around everywhere (Carabinieri are a different kind of police, not sure exactly what the difference is, I think they report to the military or something, rather than the government). So to answer the question, in terms of crime, I feel quite safe where I am.

Regarding traffic, well that's another matter. Crossing the street was a terrifying experience for me in the beginning, I was convinced I had no chance of survival whatsoever if I ever dared venture off the footpath. Anyway so one morning I was hovering at the edge of an intersection, trying to pluck up the courage to cross, when I see a lady, who was pushing a pram, calmly stroll across like 10 metres up the street from me!!! I couldn't believe my eyes! First I was outraged that she could dare to risk the life of her child like that, and then I was amazed to watch all the cars just stop and wave her across, without a single honk of their horns. I was determined to try it out at once. And guess what, it works! If you just hold your head up high and look confident, the traffic waits for you whether you have right of way or not. Well anyway, it's worked so far. But if you guys don't hear from me for a bit, then you can assume that my theory was fundamentally flawed and I've been flattened by a Fiat somewhere in the bowels of Macerata...

Anyway, I've got tons more I could write, but this post is already mammoth in size, so I'd better leave it for now and write another one later. Don't forget to leave a comment if you stop by, I just love reading from you guys! :)

The Road to Macerata

annarisa — Thu, 12 Sep 2013 06:37:00 GMT

Before I start blogging about life in Macerata, which is where I am now, I just wanted to share a couple of random things from the trip here. Things that happened, people that I met and so on. Sometimes I have to just wonder what my life would be like if I never opened my mouth to speak with the people around me; so much less interesting I imagine…

Melbourne to Doha: Well this was a 14+ hour trip, the longest stretch I’ve ever had in one go. And at about the 13.5 hour mark, I discovered the lady sitting next to me actually works at the Department of Education and Early Childhood Development, the place I’ll be starting at when I get back to Melbourne. I’ll be in the same building as her, and I didn’t even ask her name :o) Talk about coincidences!

Doha to Rome: Ok the first cool thing on this flight was the breakfast. I had just been served breakfast at the end of the Melbourne-Doha flight, and disdainfully refused the hot food (either omelette or frittata, both of which resembled half-cooked egg and mushroom swimming in oil) but for whatever reason we were getting served breakfast again. Anyway so the flight attendant asks me what I want, he’s going through the options and I’ve actually got my mouth open ready to say no-thanks-I-don’t-want-any-hot-food-just-the-croissant-thanks-and-could-I-have-two-please when he finished with saying they have chocolate pancakes. I literally went “You’ve got WHAT??!!” (I think half the plane must have heard me). He repeated, “Chocolate pancakes with cream.” My jaw nearly hit the floor!! Anyway I obviously ordered that and it was just indescribable! I’ve never had something so good on a plane, you could almost say it was life-changing! Definitely a memorable experience.

So anyway after that I was stretching my legs at the back of the plane when a woman came up with the most adorable baby. I took it off her at once and had a lovely hold while chatting to the mother, an Italian who has lived in Melbourne for 5 years. All the flight attendants were coming up to me trying to tempt the baby away with various food and toys, but to no avail, she stayed with me until turbulence started and I had to give her up <sigh>.

Rome to Cagliari: I was almost dead with exhaustion by this time, but I was still able to see the humour in this flight. The plane took off and climbed steeply for about 20 minutes. Then it levelled out and the seatbelt sign came off. Instantly all the flight attendants sprang into action. They pulled out their little metal trolleys and literally raced down the aisle (one from each end) asking the passengers “Qualcosa-da-bere? Qualcosa-da-bere? Qualcosa-da-bere?” (Something to drink?) They poured all the drinks at full speed with unbelievable accuracy. I don’t think they spilled a drop – I’ve never seen anything like it. They then hurtled back down the aisle collecting the rubbish, and the second they got to the end the seatbelt sign was back on and we were descending. At 45 minutes or something it is definitely the shortest flight I’ve ever taken.

Cagliari to Rome: This trip was pretty similar to the above. I hadn’t slept much in Sardinia due to jetlag, which meant I was still pretty tired when I got onto the plane, and so of course the first thing I did was sit in the wrong seat (9E instead of 9B). However, when it was discovered they didn’t get me to move, and I’m so glad because I ended up sitting next to the most lovely girl #MartinaFromSardinia who was heading to England to study for her third year. We had an enjoyable conversation, and took a photo when we arrived at the airport to remember it :)

Rome to Macerata (bus): This was just really random. I got on the bus at the first stop. At the next stop a bunch of people got on, and a group of three sat next to me and across from me. As soon as they opened their mouths it was very clear that they were Australian. Nice, friendly and talkative. I guess it was just another one of those coincidences… :o)

First Time in Sardinia!

annarisa — Thu, 12 Sep 2013 01:32:00 GMT

Check this story out to find out about the first four days of my Italy trip, which I spent in the beautiful province of Oristano, chilling on the beach, meeting new people, and doing my best to conquer the jetlag :)

Where do I even start? Possibly my arrival at Cagliari airport would be a good idea. So after having checked the weather forecasts since about the beginning of June on a weekly basis, and being delighted to see that rain is apparently an unknown phenomenon in Sardinia, I was rather astonished to find myself in the middle of a thunderstorm. That's right people. After about 30 hours of travel (and not having slept a wink) I had to hire a car and drive by myself for 1 1/2 hours in the rain and dark (except for the lightning flashes) to an unknown destination. The GPS did a great job in getting me fairly close to the caravan park I was headed for, however, since I didn't have an exact address, the voice told me I had reached my destination when I was in the middle of a roundabout! This could have been rather traumatic, except that just as I was entering full panic mode, I spotted a police car, the driver of which was very happy to assist me (by giving me the wrong directions :). To cut a long story short, I finally found the place and it turned out to be really nice (when seen by daylight). There was a dream of a beach literally 30 seconds from our cabin, and the surroundings were just gorgeous.

The next day (which was hot hot hot and showed no signs of the previous night's storm) I picked up the other girls from the airport and we went past the town of Torre Grande (Big Tower) on our way to the caravan park. Torre Grande is on another beautiful beach, and this was actually where I made my great discovery: namely that the idea of me returning to Australia in January is a big joke. Seriously guys, I am not leaving this country till I am evicted, or extradited, or whatever the word is. It is INCREDIBLE!!! The weather is AMAZING, the beaches are UNBELIEVABLE, the people are SUPER FRIENDLY and they ALL speak Italian! What more could I ask? :) Imagine Australia, except without snakes, spiders, bugs of all kinds, mosquitoes and flies, and way better weather. Honestly when you check the photos of this place you are all going to come storming here as fast as you can. People say the economy is shot, but I say who cares? Why do you need money when you're basically living in a paradise?

Anyway so what else happened in Sardinia? Oh yeah, we went to Zinnigas for the conference, where we met tons of cool people and played volleyball in some insane heat, but it was really fun. We went to a famous beach one of the days, Is Arutas I think it was called, where the water was, no jokes, like nothing you have ever seen. I think it's because the sand here is a bit coarser/heavier than what we've got in Australia, so it stays on the bottom of the sea instead of coming into the water like it does back home, with the result that the water is just clearer than crystal, like I can't even describe it.

But hey I guess that's enough on Sardinia. Check out the photos and leave a comment if you like, I'd love to hear from you all :) Oh and by the way, you have to hover the mouse over the photos if you want to see what they're about, I couldn't get captions happening...

Photos: Profile Pics

annarisa — Sun, 11 Aug 2013 20:28:00 GMT

Profile Pics