Accents

Hopefully it doesn't come as much of a surprise to you to know that people generally don't like Americans. It's partially our mannerisms and mostly our government that really gives us the bad reputation. So, if you're smart, you try not to make it too obvious that you're american. That is, don't talk so loudly, don't be so obnoxious, don't wear your George W. fan club shirt, and don't eat more than everyone else around you. Unfortunately, the accent is always a bit of a giveaway. 

On a trip from Paris to London, I was talking to the UK police officer at passport control who had no idea I was American until I handed him my passport. This was a good sign for me, nearly passing as British, but since then, I've been able to get by with other ethnicities aside from American. 

I don't know Italian, but I do know that Spanish is closer to Italian than English, so whilst in Rome, I opted to try Spanish first, because people don't like you to expect them to know English. At an internet cafe, I was asked if I actually was Spanish, despite handing over a UK university ID in exchange for the use of a computer. While the group was in Tivoli, I went off with a few loud Americans as they searched for toilets. I was clearly with the group and they were clearly American. I stayed behind as the group filtered out and upon ordering a croissant, I was questioned if I was French (although he might have been taking the piss). 

According to my flatmates, I don't have a very strong American accent. They met me the same night they met a texan and said I didn't sound American, whereas she did. And I guess my time over here is just pushing me further away from the typical American accent because Lee's newest flatmate is from California and she thought I was from Northern Ireland as well. 

So for all of you who told me to come back with an accent, it appears I might be doing so, even though I haven't really been trying. Although, due to certain circumstances, it might be a bit more of a Northern Irish accent than an English one. 

Important note: English muffins are different from the American version and so much better. And chips (British french fries with more potato) are highly addicting, especially when there's a chip shop just down the road. 

Ciao

Being told that you have to get a bus at 2.30am never bodes well. The university organised the trip to Rome and, of course, went budget with the airline. Our flight left at 6.30am from an airport approximately an hour away from Leicester, and I had to walk a mile to catch the bus to the airport at 2am. Typically, the walk doesn't take long, but I was clearly carrying more than I needed to. However, I did make it to the bus and endured one of the worst bus rides of my life. Then, at the airport, I was fortunate enough to discover the weight limits enforced by budget airlines. Feeling I had packed light, I wasn't too worried about this, until I put my bag on the scale to discover it was 6kg over the limit. 15 minutes and 45GBP (approximately $90), I had checked my bag and was not in a very good mood. Nor was I happy when my bag was pulled to be inspected because I had tubes of mascara and lipstick in it. In order to keep these things (along with some medications), I had to buy a specific type of plastic bag. After that ordeal, I was not looking forward to going to Rome, and I feel that the journey there was just a set-up for what I was going to have to endure.

To begin with, I hate tour groups. A 2-day tour to Toronto nearly killed me, and this one was supposed to last a week. Not only that, the incredibly unorganised University of Leicester was in charge. This meant that when we did get to Rome, our coach dropped us off half a mile from our hotel, forcing all of us to haul our cases through the streets. The hotel didn't have our rooms ready, and the university hadn't put a down-payment on them, so every person had to shell out 10 euros to cover the university's mistake. My room itself wasn't too bad. It had enough room and there was a fridge, so that was nice. I did have one slight problem, and that was the one room mate who was a loud sleeper. A week without sleep didn't treat me very well. 

I wanted to go to Italy mainly because I like Italian food. The hotel's breakfast was a pathetic excuse of an attempt to feed anyone. Stale bread, some cheese, ham, bad drinks and  bland cereal was all we were offered for the whole week. For dinner, the university gave us vouchers for a cafeteria-style restaurant in Termini (Rome's train station). The food selection was terrible and never cooked right. I had over-cooked and under-cooked pasta. The only time I ever ate a proper meal was when a few of us decided to skip the free meal and go to a restaurant to get some real Italian pasta, which was excellent. I did manage to have some pizza for lunch a couple of times and that was good, but on the whole, I was horribly disappointed with the food I had in Italy.

The city itself didn't really impress me. It was incredibly dirty and covered with graffiti. The only nice areas are the ones by the huge tourist attractions. And it seemed like Rome is a city that is always going to be covered in scaffolding. The city is constantly falling down and constantly rebuilding itself. There's no glamour in that. The historical aspects are interesting and all, but I didn't find any real aesthetic appeal in the city itself.

My favourite part of the trip was when we left the city. Ostia was gorgeous, especially when we went to the seaside, where I was able to find some soy gelato to try. Tivoli was definitely the nicest area I saw - specifically the Villa d'Este. 

Pictures are on flickr, so you can see where I went there. Basically, by the time it came to leave, I was happy to get out of Rome. And I managed to work out a way to get my luggage problem fixed. All is well now.