the new Blogger is not letting me post big, long, windy week-long diary so I'll have to break it up into digestible chunks.

Extended paid leave?

Am having such a fine time here in Lucca [inspite of electronic limbodom and a total lack of nightlife] that I'm starting to wonder if I can take a 'real' job after this one....

Exciting excursions, mishaps and arrivals in this past week:

Shot lots of touristy videos in some of the most amazing locations I've ever been to for the Pucciniana project.
So Giacomo Puccini is not exactly a billionaire rock star / hearthrob actor, but damn he picked the most beautiful spots in NWestern Tuscany for his countryside retreats.

Sat 22/6
- The day started off badly with Claudio driving off to the East to Florence, instead of our intended destination of lakeside Torre del Lago in the West.

- Torre del Lago: lovely small village next to the Lago di Massaciuccoli. Lots of sun + palm trees. Went on a boat tour of the lake. It reminded me of Mai Po before Shenzhen became a haphazard blotch of skyscrapers and malls filled with counterfeit handbags. The lazy morning sun & the breeze made me feel right at home. Just like the boat rides my family did on Sundays, only on a lake instead of on the sea. The lake was bound by small hillside Tuscan towns, like little pieces of coral or amber embedded on hills behind overgrown rushweeds.

- Viarregio Beach: We played hookey and went to the beach before shooting another Puccini house. Strangely organised with rows of rainbow-hued sunbeds and beach brollies, where you have to pay to use. Beach OK. Huge waves. Got yelled at by Mr. Old Lifeguard who thinks I'm a subaverage-Asian-weakling who might drown if I swam 20 yards offshore. Got sunburnt too...am Miss Kogepan, yet again.
- Viarregio: Apparently a v. popular Tuscan seaside resort. A strange melange of Brighton + Miami (ie. looong seaside strip of palm trees, Beaux Art bldgs, Art Deco fonts, lots of overpriced Victorian hotels)
Puccini has a lovely Frank-Lloyd-Wrighty brick house bound by lush trees. I picked up a pinecone the size of my hand, and smelt amber for the first time. It was full of pinenuts! Had no idea pinenuts have shells too.

- Pineta: we drove off to the pine woods next by the beach to get a shot... supposedly Puccini's house was in the middle of pine woods but now it's swallowed up by urban Viarregio. The sun was setting and the woods looked golden, lush and glorious.
- Claudio unintentionally took the scenic route on the way back. The drive from Pisa to Lucca was simply the most memorable car journey in my short but wonderlust-y life. We went through poplar-shaded, winding small country roads. The drive up the Lucchese mountains made me speechless: the whole Pisan plain was bathed in the golden light from the sunset. Campo di Miracle stuck out in the orangey roofed town, amidst a lovely crisscross patchwork of hay and emerald fields.

I can't say enough how happy or grateful that I'm here. I do feel like the luckiest girl alive.

Sun 23/6
-My other teammate, Teresa arrived!
She's a lovely Mexican girl hailing from Colorado. and from what I've learnt, she's as prone to putzing around as I am! Hurrah procrastinators!

Mon 24/6
- Celle dei Puccini: A tiny, rustic, picturesque village (with a population of 40!!) up in the Alpi Apuane. Beautiful medieval stone cottages up in the mountains. The air smelled sweet, with mixed scents from the pinecones, the flowers and the soil. The local old men are sweet and friendly. They're so excited that their tiny village is going to be in a documentary that they wanted to show us everything Puccini. *awww*
If I have any money when I retire, get old and wrinkly, this will be the place where I'd spend my remaing summers, removed from all worries of the earthly world.
- We finally found a supermarket, outside of the walls which define our existence. Lucca may be historic and picturesque, but no one besides tourists live within ye olde city walls. We raided the place with pleasure.

Tue 25/6
- Back to Torre del Lago to shoot the house itself. No beach this time.
- Chiatri dei Puccini: Another hilltop retreat near Lago di Massaciuccoli. �??U�??? that fell into disrepair, unlike all other Puccini houses. It could easily play a haunted house in the middle of nowhere. It has however ?o��??��[a killer view of the lake] where you can see the surrounding towns out towards the Mediterranean coast, all the way to Elba.
We saw a pair of butterflies [black wings, navy stripes, white spots and a handsome black abdomen adorned with one bold yellow stripe], mating. They dangled on a thin, fragile piece of grass, one end to another, bending it over with their combined weights. It was an act so delicate and acrobatic; I was in awe.
Lunched at a marvelous ristorante on another hilltop nearby. A spiky caterpillar crawled up my leg. Am starting to wonder if I'm getting ?���?�?? [too happy to miss home].
- Massa Rossa: We had too much time between shots. I pranced around in a rice corn field with stalks taller than me, as Claudio napped in the car. It was just like the corn fields in Signs?�no aliens in sight though.

- Villa Ginori-Lisci, Massaciuccoli: Another lakeside villa. This one is not a Puccini property, but his mate's. The house is a majestic Victorian Neo-Gothic brick house, that has a snazzy little canal in its garden that links the boat "garage" of house to the lake. The garden is amazingly eccentric for Tuscany. It is bound by tall palm trees, and the marshy canal area make it look like Florida. The canal alone could have been the set for Robinson Cruesoe, or Survivor (!) The present owner of the villa is just as strikingly strange. The old Marchese Ginori-Lisci is tall and skinny, with long silver grey hair, twinkly eyes, and a white-blonde-white mouchestache [bad dye job?!] so thick and long, he looks like a 19th C personality or someone right out of Tin Tin.

*PROMISE i'll put the videos online as soon as I sort out my laptop connection*

- Claudio almost flipped on me. Living, eating AND working with the same person 24-7 for a whole week can be tiring, no matter how charming / witty / good at bursting into random 80's songs they are. It's like an accelerated intense relationship, where you stop fancying the person cos you know them too well after three days, and all mystery is lost.
Another thing: he likes to drive the puny rented Fiat Punto like it's a formula one race car. Good thing I wear seatbelts and don't get travel sickness. Bad thing I don't know how to drive.

Wed 26/6

Bagni di Lucca: A spa town that Puccini played in as a broke student. Mirror like reservoir in a steep, lush valley. We went into a doctor�s home with yet another Puccini-touched piano. The living room had a strategically framed view of the opposing valleyside, and was lavishly decorated with trompe l�oeils of marble, plaster mouldings and wallpaper.
The doctor took us to a sweet, gentle retired general�s home, whose grandfather was friends with Puccini. His house is a living collection of memorabilia. Every wall is covered: sepia-toned family photos from the 19th c, medallions of all sizes and ages, family china, copper pots and pans, souvenir knives from every corner of the earth. He wanted to show us anything and everything. Amidst all his treasures, he took out the death mask of Puccini from some mysterious dimension. The interior of the house itself was also a feast on the eyes; cameo friezes, more trompe l�oeils, Tiffany styled lampshades, plush antique chairs, dark musty colours, crocheted linen drapes.

Thu 27/6
Tere, my lovely flatmate made guacamole. Was a mighty flop according to her cos the avocados were too raw. Plus we didn't have all the right schtuff. We discovered that ??�� cilantro is not a universal phenomenon. She had to cook the avocados a little to be able to mash them. Apparently not a good idea. I ate it all anyway. Tere was both amazed and amused.
Attempt at making tacos for dinner was even funnier. We decided that we are cooking and living like modern-age cavemen. No microwaves, no oven in our IKEA-clad apartments. But we do get cable, even if all except CNN & EuroSport Live, are in German. South Park in German is strange to watch.

Fri 28/6
Had a strange, pathetic little party in our apartment after dinner, as we were not yet ready to call it a night, and cos there is NIL in Lucca after 10pm. [everyone sleeps after midnight, remember? Even on Fri night >.<] Tere brought her latin music and I pseudo-mamboed. Claudio was reluctant at first but he did boogey and sing at the top of his lungs when I put on Jamiroquai. Everyone walking by the piazza looked up to our balcony to find the source of the raucous. We got bored after an hour, and chanel-surf for a porno channel after reported sightings of German porn on our weird cable. We found �Sexy sports clips� where naked chicks half-assly mud-wrestled. Bad porn makes highly comical late-night entertainment.

Sat 29/6
Tracy, the 4th teammate arrives! Tere and I missed her arrival. But then we saw an Asian girl wondering towards our apt as we headed out for a cold chocolate. Who else can it be? There are only three Asians in this town! (me and another 2 ABC girls who are in some music programme at the Fondazione I�m �working� at) Now we have four. [reprezenting�.]
Tracy is well cool. She spent junior year in Florence and so she speaks Italian. *envy*

*** :d Cool gelato flavours of the week:
Tiramisu, Rum cake (Italian name is Zuppa Inglese � apparently means English soap?!)
Claudio thought I have an eating disorder cos I just need one everyday. Am going to be a chubby bunny by the time I leave Italy.

My dream life in Italia

Meet Claudio, the Non-Stereotypical Italian Stallion Flat/Team mate: so he's a cutey. In fact, a lanky 5'10" David Duchovny lookalike [the x file dude]. Who speak v. little english. So have been playing a mix of sign language, Pictionary and Spanish vocab pop quiz non-stop for the past 4 days. Too bad he's taken.
Other random things I've learnt about the non-stereotypical Italian Stallion: he is a trendster shoppaholic who can rival me! *gasp* and that he is in fact, just another slimey I.S. playa inspite of good looks. Nationality of women he's slept with: Italian, Irish, English, American, Spanish, Romanian, Argentinian...(and I thought my bro was bad) *cough cough*

other than that, things are moving along slowly, inspite of sleepless Air Con-less nights spent tossing and turning, and my inability to work out how to use my calling card. We've been filming LOTS of churches, for a short documentary about places that were important in Puccini's life. My recent church attendance would make my grandma proud.

More on Lucca - lovely small town 2 km in diameter, surrounded by a poplar-lined city wall. What you can call a "small sparrow with complete organs" in Chinese.

Lucca's famous city wall promenade; a bird's eye view of the city

Arrived here in Lucca, Italy. Amazingly am still in one piece. Am here all by myself as team mates are not arriving till later today / tomorrow, and boss is travelling around Italy to meet the curators of the exhibit. Am left to my own devices =o


The museum has arranged for us to stay in a huge, sunny beautiful apartment, which faces a small piazza. I'll be sharing it with Claudio, an Italian male team mate whom I've never met and is arriving this evening. Fingers crossed he won't be the Slimey Italian Stallion stereotype ;)

Am quite scared cos I can't speak Italian. AT ALL. Can barely read signs and speak touristy phrases with an appalling English accent. People, even the ones working at the museum speak v. little english. Apt has no phone, and for some reason my cell can't make calls like it's supposed to. Have yet to figure out the telly which supposedly has satellite TV. Am cut off from all things familiar....

I must come off as being ungrateful, whining even when I'm at such a beautiful place. Have to get out of my nocturnal MIT mode 'cos everyone sleeps after midnight. Being a citygal, I find the ringing silence frightening. To top it all off, when I went to shut the shutters at the balcony, some dude walking by gave me the finger for no apparent reason. What a welcome to Italia. >.<

frocks, frocks, frocks!

Chezzz & Toast took me to the infamous Designer Warehouse Sale. Despite lack of food intake, brain + body were fuelled purely by the adrenaline from seeing all the lovely dresses on the packed racks.
Guilty pleasures: a devine lilac Bella Freud cocktail dress for a tener (10 pounds), a pair of the much coveted Chloe trousers (the horse sequinsy ones from Stella McCartney's last collection for Chloe!!) at a whopping 99 pounds (as supposed to 780!!)

Am now a happy broke girl ;P

More Oxford envy:

Went to witness ye olde tradition of congratulating Finalists (ppl who have taken their last ever final) as I tagged along with Cheryl to congratulate me mate Kaman. Awaiting crowds, not unlike those at airports, was in a festive frenzy. Was showered in champagne as Chezzz & I were standing on the frontline where exiting Finalists were getting sprayed with said bubbly. Helium balloons, beautiful bouquets and video cameras. AND oh, the Finalists get to wear a smart uniform of white shirt, black trousers / skirt + carnation. Some men were in tails + white bow ties *sizzzzlingly phoar!*

would love to have gone to a uni with age old idiosyncratic traditions of sorts. AND Oxford men are sooo much better looking. Maybe I wouldn't be single, as bitter or whiney had I gone there :P

Visiting Chezzz (aka KK or Slytherinkk) at Oxford. Can't help thinking I would have been a happier, more wholesome person if I came here (ie. more intellectual, confident, poised, polished, Euro-savvy and less geeky) I try to tell myself I should turn out fine whichever path I choose, but I can't help wonder... maybe it's the summer sun, the rolling green meadows of Cotswolds, ye olde limestone buildings... *all sentimental*

more happenances at the Imperial Capital:

1) Finally went clubbing here... and I learnt what I've been missing since I was 16. Fabric was SUPER. Apologies for those who couldn't avoid seeing me spazz along to drum 'n' bass like a maniac. [but I mean, when Rider, one half of Fabio & Grooverider, is spinning, it gets a bit hard to co-ordinate disjointed limbs....]
Time wooshed by in that HUGE maze of dark vaults. I've never ever danced till dawn in my entire life. Am glad did not go to uni in London, as would have been total financial + career + academic disaster.
MIT taught me how to work till daybreak, but London taught me how to party 24-7.
2) Been a true architectural geek and went structure sight-seeing as recommended by prof. Glossy pretty new buildings: Norman Foster's glass egg (aka the London City Hall) and the Great Court at the British Museum. According to prof, the Gt. Court's glass roof is custom made such that no two triangles are identical, and are shaped together such that the roof exerts no thrust on the surrounding historical buildings. *geeeeekdom galore* o.o
3) Walked around London Bridge City on a rare sunny afternoon; must have been 12 years since I last walked on Tower Bridge....
but it was my first visit to the Docklands. Seems like I discover some place new everytime I come to London =)

got to london safe and sound, despite resemblance to refugee upon arrival with too much luggage (as usual) Got fined $90 for checking in 3 pieces instead of 2. The burden of being fiendishly shoppaholic *sigh*
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Climbed Kresge with Alice the night before departure. Was frightfully good fun, especially after a drink or two when you're less than sober. We gave the mid-century geodesic copper dome a good polishing with our butts as we descended. Thanks to Eero Saarinen, we can s*it on MIT without risking our lives.