Okay. Now that I’m done with excuses, it’s time for the scoop (I just thought of gelato again). Anyway, since I’ve last written, I have journeyed to Pavarotti’s hometown of Modena for his funeral, day-tripped to Montepulciano, endured an entire week of classes at the Accademia, fumbled my way through a 100% Italian trombone lesson with my monolingual teacher, taken a dip in the Mediterranean sea, and lived to tell you the glory of it all.

So, first, Modena. With no clue what to do last weekend, and after thorough discussion around the Villa about Pavarotti’s death, we realized the awesome possibility of our new residence in Italy. We spontaneously decided to take the early Saturday train to Modena, Italia to attend Luciano’s funeral. The train took is north, first through Firenze, then Bologna, eventually arriving at Modena’s station in mid-morning. We set out for the Duomo with the help of a friendly local, and got in line to enter the cathedral. After only twenty or thirty minutes, we were at the door. As we entered, gorgeous wreaths surrounded us, with messages to the divo himself. A man handed us a small folded card with Luciano’s name and date of birth and death, a picture of him inside. I read it quickly as I walked, and once I looked up, there he was. It was startling. I hadn’t expected to see him so soon, so close to me. Draped in a scarlet cloth embroidered with a treble clef, Luciano Pavarotti lay ten feet away from me. He seemed tiny, but still so dignified. A simple child’s drawing sat on a wreath above the head of the casket, signed “Alice.” Alice, I later learned, is Alice Pavarotti. His daughter.

The ceremony itself was less profound for me. We stood outside with thousands of others, in the sweltering heat, listening to a recording of Luciano singing “Nessun Dorma” playing over the loudspeakers, greeted with applause. While we were waiting, two men with a gorgeous collection of sunflowers walked by and accidentally hit me with the flowers…the very flowers meant to adorn Pavarotti’s casket. We watched the ceremony on a giant screen just outside the Duomo. The Ferrari family, Bono, Kofi Anan, and Renee Fleming were some of the esteemed guests, while Mirella Freni and Andrea Bocelli sang. When it was all over, the casket was carried out of the cathedral to the surprise sound of jets in the distance. Just in time, I caught the flyover (smoke in the colors of the Italian flag) on my camera. Out with a bang.

So, there’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience for you. Pavarotti, last time in public.

The next day, after recovering from a late return to the Villa Godiola, Caroline and I awoke to Dr. Britt’s voice outside the window. He was telling Meredith that he wanted to drive to Montepulciano for lunch, so the three of us naturally asked to tag along. We got ready quickly, hopped in the Villa’s funny-looking Euro car, and rode through gorgeous countryside for an hour, arriving in the absolutely picturesque town of Montepulciano. The day was wonderfully relaxed, uneventful, and downright lovely. The town is so old, on top of a hill with panoramic views of the Tuscan countryside, rolling hills, and Lake Trasimeno. We had a great lunch, perfect gelato, visited a local chiesa, and made friends with a local Dalmation. What a day.

My first week of classes was interesting. A typical day at the Accademia is this: breakfast in the Mensa, class (Italian for 2 hours, Music History for 1, Conducting for 1) for forever, lunch at 1 in the Mensa, then study/practice/free time until dinner at 8. I don’t know what to do with this free time. It’s bewildering. I finally get to practice and do homework, which rocks in a nerdy sort of way. And when I’m not forwarding my personal development as a musician and studentessa, I’m wasting time in the best way possible – by exploring, eating, or playing the guitar in the Villa. My first lesson with Vito was, well, confusing as hell. I understood what he was saying, but it took a lot of miming and probably too much awkward giggling on my part. Alas, I survived. It’s different. That’s good for me.

Meredith, Caroline, and I had planned to visit Lago Trasimeno this past Saturday, but after Dr. Britt mentioned that there was room in the car for his Saturday beach trip, we changed plans. Free travel? To the Mediterranean?! Why, yes, please. So, we left Saturday morning for Castiglione della Pescaia. The trip was just 2 hours (and absolutely hilarious – the 4 of us together are just crazy), and when we arrived we ate a cheap and delicious lunch. We then walked along the Marina to the beach. It was not very crowded at all, and I immediately ran out and jumped in the water. It was cold, blue, and salty. Seas rock. Us girls then walked the beach for about two hours, taking in everything: the mountains across the water, villas in the distance, a castle on top of a hill, windsurfers, playing children, fishermen, sailboats… disgusting old Italian men in banana hammocks.

How lovely. We layed out a bit, too. And, driving home, we decided that nothing could taste better than McDonald’s. I don’t know where that desire came from, but when we arrived home in Arezzo we followed poorly marked signs to the “McDrive” for about fifteen minutes until we found it. Attached to a gas station. Packed full of yuppie Italian parents with their children. Dressed nicely. Eating Big Macs. It was weird and hysterical and scary and comforting all at the same time. I ordered and subsequently inhaled my Happy Meal. Then we returned to the counter for sundaes. Now, I know that many would argue that this is contrary to the “Italian experience,” but I learned so darn much about Italy, globalization, and why trans-fats rock. Really. It was a McLearning experience. I mean, isn’t everything?

New photos are uploaded now, so click on the pic to see them!

We rode the early train to Cortona on Monday, and once we arrived in town, started going up. Cortona is literally a town on the side of a mountain, with a chiesa and fortress at the very top. We completed the difficult hike to the top to find the Chiesa de Santa Margherita (where Santa Margherita herself is preserved in a glass coffin) and then to the very top to the Medici Fortress, which had the most stunning view of the Tuscan countryside that anyone could imagine.

Yesterday was Firenze, which started out miserably…we arrived in the pouring rain, it was freezing, we were soaked. But after late morning, the sky was suddenly blue, the temperature was cool in the sun, and we had an incredible afternoon. My highlight was of course the San Lorenzo market, where I bought a gorgeous Italian leather purse…dearrr exchange rate. Please improve.

Today we spent around Arezzo, getting to know the place better and better (very gradually, the streets are a maze). Il Duomo in Arezzo is INCREDIBLE, and I’m really perplexed as to why it’s not a huge deal. It’s very ornate, gothic, every inch is covered in fresco, tile, stained glass, marble carvings, and awesomeness. The organist was playing too, so – free concert! We’re about to go eat our first dinner at the Villa, cooked by our Philipino chef, Ricardo, and I’m molto excited. He’s apparently a genius. I didn’t know that any of this could get better, especially the food. BENE!!!