ROBBED!!!

We don't know how it happened.

The door was locked when we came home; the place was intact. But 600 euros in cash was taken from me, and 400 from Tracie, my flatmate. We had a safe in the apartment, but the hotel managment staff didn't have the key, so we couldn't use it. What scares me is that it was no random theft; it was done by someone who has the keys to our apartment. With both of us, we hid our cash in envelopes in the wardrobe. Mine were tucked away with a tonne of plastic bags in my backpack, left in the wardrobe. The thief must have been in the apartment before to know where to look. What was strange was that only euros were taken; I had an envelope with euros, pound sterling and HK dollars in it; only euros were taken. Tere had a wad of US dollars sitting in plain view in the wardrobe, yet it was untouched. Credit cards, passports and electronics were left alone. Even more disturbingly, the thief left 300 euros (the envelope with my airfare had 800) and 200 in Tracie's (she had 600). Did the thief do what he / she did just for kicks?

The timing couldn't be better; Tracie is leaving today, Tere and I on Monday. There's nothing we can do. That 600 euros was re-imbursement from the museum for my airfare. Now I'm fucked with my credit card bill. I'm just upset, angry and speechless. We didn't get mugged in Florence or Rome or any touristy destinations, but in our own home.

Once again, thanks to the Wynton Marsalis Sixtet, I feel like the luckiest girl alive. Who would have thought you can find such a tremendous, tremendous jazz concert in Lucca, of all places?

Things that stuck out from the two hours of pure aural bliss:
* Marsalis presented an Italian boy prodigy saxophonist, Francesco Grafizzo (-sp?), who can't be older than 15. The boy wonder almost stole the show!! He was as good as the masters themselves! At one point, Wynton et al were all standing behind him, joking about, with expressions on their faces that say," Yeah, we'll just let him play the whole gig alright!"
* The drummer did a wicked solo with a tamborine and drums; the man moved like an African tribesman in a rhythmic ritualistic trance; his raw energy was simply remarkable.

Oddly enough, there were hardly any locals at the concert. Everyone is either American or German.... does that say something about the non-diversity of Italian musical tastes?

Essential Rome in 36 hours by Tere and CY:

Day 1

01:00-03:15 waiting outiside Pisa Centrale for the night train. Acted homeless and napped on bench, road, platform with dozens of fellow student backpackers.
03:20-07:00 slept on and off on the night train, only to be rudely awoken by conductor with limbs all sprawled out in deep sleep.
08:00 San Pietro Cathedral in the Vatican. Splendid enough to make moi, christian-non-apparent, consider acting religious and open mouth in awe.
09:15 Lost Tere after she went to confession [the first time in years for Tere]
10:00 got impatient with fruitless search for Tere and went up to the Cupola of S. Pietro. My my, was it a hike. Endless spiral stairs that get narrower and narrower as you hike up and hyperventilate. Not recommended for the physically unfit on a blazingly hot day.
Though view of Piazza S. Pietro was well-worth the killer hike + all the nasty sweat that make you glisten like an oiled Thanksgiving turkey.
10:50 Tere appears like an apparition as I came out of the Cupola stairs. Apparently God rewards those who redempt.
11:45 The Vatican Museums and the Sistine Chapel. Unwisely brought B+W film when everything around me is in glorious, if not gaudy, Baroque technicolour. The fabled chapel with all the Michaelangelo murals was packed with ppl. Any contemplative / appreciating mood for the sumptuous art surrounding me promptly vapourised at the sight of the touristy crowds.
15:30 Colosseum. More tourists, which make the Real McCoy look even smaller.
16:45 Attempt to go to the Pantheon. Hopped on to a bus and ended up in some piazza behind a monmouth governmental palace.
17:20 Pantheon Take 2. Lovely lady sign-languaged us in the right direction off the bus. More people. I spewed out everything I learnt about this building from lectures and became Tere's tourguide.
18:10 Piazza Navona. Lovely fountain. Lots of pigeons attacking Bernini's sculptures.
18:25 Fountain of Trevi. Heat-stroke induced hallucinations of self swooning through the tourist-infested waters of the fountain a la Anita Ekberg in La Dolce Vita. But due to the "People Mountain People Sea" effect, and Tere's disuation, the Tripping One decided she'd be better off making an offering to the Fountain Wishgranter / Money Collector instead.
19:00 Il Gelateria de San Crispo.... my my. See full details below.
21:45 Walk walk walking past the Spanish Steps back to hotel. Eye bedazzled by the $$$$$ shops on the way. Smelly armpits does not a pleasant Metro ride make.

Day 2 -

09:30 S. Pietro again. This time to deliver Tere's family's petitions for prayer.
> Piazza Venezia
> Capitoline Hill; Piazza Campogiano
> Roman Forum
> Via del Corso
> Spanish Steps
> Piazza del Popolo
> Picipoli Park
> Roma Termini Station; Eurostar train back to Pisa
21:40 Stolen Firenze-Pisa train plaque from Pisa Centrale station. Yes! My first act of delinquency in Italia.
Now what should I do with the god-damn-it's-heavy sign?
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Amo Roma!

I must have seen 70% of all the Italian buildings I've ever seen in my Architectural History lectures. Love the ubiquitous fountains, the obelisks, the endless avenues, the gigantic parks, the whole palava. Rome may well become my second fave city ;D

The Holy Grail of Gelati:

    

If Italy is the motherland of good ice-cream, Il Gelato di San Crispino in Rome must be the ultimate Mamma of all ice-creams. The gelato there would make you wonder if justice exists at all, and how God can deny this to us non-Rome residing mortal souls. For a more accurate description of this utterly devine gastronomical experience, here's a review from NY Times:

The fruit flavors, which are almost as dense and velvety as the creams, taste like pure essence of fruit, only better, with no watery aftertaste. After a few bites of pear gelato, you wonder whether you'd ever really tasted a pear before. As for the pink grapefruit, imagine only the sweetness of the perfect fruit, with none of the bite.

In 2 days, I went twice, and tried:
* Cream with Honey
* Ginger and Cinnamon - I thought ginger doesn't exist here? Thank god someone knows how to use it with flair!
* Zabaione - the Marsala is definitely there. *tipsy*
* Plum - oh my oh my was it better than the fruit itself...
* Meringue with Nocciola - hazelnut with small, heavenly meringue chunks :d !!

arg.... a total change of my summer plans:

what with the unexpected announcement from the museum staff yesterday - I won't be receiving housing + stipend post July 27th -, and that no one else on the team will be staying in Italy after that, I have to cancel all my plans to travel around Italy / Spain. And rebook all my plane tickets. And forget about sunbathing in a bikini. =(

I don't think I can work for Flavia again. I forgot how insane that woman is, despite her academic brilliance, she is totally disorganised, has no budgeting skills and can't keep her employees in the loop. Ever. Aaaaaah!

New projected plans:
1) fly to london on 28/7
2) fly to Amsterdam on 30/7 and chill till 3/8....
3) go home to HK for 3 weeks
4) fly back to London on 24/8, then to Edinburgh to see my mate Janet
5) fly back to London, then back to Boston on 31/8 to start school.

If all goes according to plan, [unlikely] seems like I'll be passing through London more times than I can count!

Woohoo...

You know blogging has gone mainstream when your 14 yr old lil' bro starts his own blog on Xanga.
May I present.....Caesium Zone!

itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini...

Yes mum, I've gone demented to the point beyond redemption - I bought my first [2] bikini[s]!
After going to the beach at Viareggio, I realise the only ppl in Italy who wear full length bathing suits are blubbery, bloated obasan's. Sooo... even if I am blubbery and bloated in all the wrong places, I have to dress my age.
What with the glorious summer sales [apparently all of Italy goes on sale on the same weekend; =D instinctively I went berserk] I picked meself 2 halterneck bikinis. Now I can "show off" all my newly acquired ungainly + untanned flabby bits from all the gelatos I've consumed over the past month.
Be warned: If you happen to be in Italy / Spain this summer, and spot a short-haired, pear-shaped Asian chick with her belly hanging all out, COVER YOUR EYES to avoid baaaad mental images~~
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Alanis in Lucca:

Entertainment post-10-pm has finally landed in Ye Olde Historic Lucca, even if it's only for the month of July. Went to an Alanis Morrisette concert yesterday. Was totally random cos I'd never pay to see her in the States. I don't know any of her songs besides the ones on Jagged Little Pill, my high school's unofficial anthems circa 1996.
The venue: A nice big piazza bound by tall trees and the Duke's Palace, 2 mins from my apartment - basically I could have listened to it from my apartment, had i known I couldn't see the stage anyway.
The crowd: A lot older than one would expect at a rock concert. we, aged 22-24, seemed to be the youngest lot. Everyone else is in their late 20's to early 40's. What's even stranger is that ppl don't seem to like the music for their lyrics, as no one apart from us + other English-speaking tourists seem to know the words to her songs. The Italians either sway to the beat, or not move at all when Alanis played her new, lesser-known songs.

funny food francais...

[images nicked from Jason Pultz, creator of Scary Bear.]

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the marginally cooler things you get from watching German MTV and surfing the web at work.
Magic Key by One T ft. Cool T, and videos by Anders Morgenthaler, I like! [via Scary Bear]
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This week's gelati: kiwi, green apple, gianduia [an exquisite chocolate made of hazelnut paste, milk choc & hazelnuts :d] and zabaione, an eggy dessert made with Marsala.

Food-induced homesickness:

As lovely as Tuscan cuisine is, I think I've had more than enough. 3 weeks straight on pasta, salami, cheese and olives will wear out any Italophile taste buds. Gelato is still tasting good, but it's definitely taken a toll on my already subaverage figure. Another olive oil + balsamic leafy salad, and I'll swear off rabbit-food for the rest of my life.

Tuscany is uninspiringly homogenous restaurant-wise. All the menus are starting to look the same. I could have gone to that one and only Chinese restaurant outside the city wall, but word has it that Chinese food in Italy cannot be touched with a 10 ft pole. Am desperately missing me old stir-fries with bak choi / pea pod stems / choi sum, basically anything green with stems would do. And cha siu [roasted pork] and roasted duck, and all the summer fruits: mangoes, lychees, Loong Ngan [tastes a bit like lychees but they have brown smooth shells, and are called "dragon eye"]....Aaaah! Went to the supermarket to look for things to cook, but apparently ginger does not exist in Italy.

So my first non-Italian eating experience took place at.... a Macdonald's off a highway going into Lucca. Aiyaiyai!!!
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I ain't no Ching Chong Chinaman!

I'm getting fed up. Whenever I leave home for work, take the train, go to places where tourists don't go to, I get gawked at. Should I even attempt to go out partying at night, slimey drunks come up and go, "Cheeena!" Sucks that my Italian swearing is limited to "fuck off" and "shit", which never gets my msg across to their chauvinistic pea-brains.

Get with the programme! It's the 21st century, and everyone travels damn it! Even the yellow ones!
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Cool gelato flavours of the week: Nocciolasa [whole hazelnuts + choco fudge + vanilla], Dolci di Latte [basically that yummy Dulce de Leche caramelly stuff]