Ciao bella!

Logging in to my blog account it was in Italian. Thats awesome.

Italia. How on earth do you assign words to something so incredibly indescribable? Everything is different here. The air is different, the people, the food, the buildings. Everything looks warm, and usually is warm, which makes the coolness of the gelato that is inevitably consumed nothing short of blissful. The people are so friendly and charming, wanting to help you, while at the same time usually trying to sell you something, but you can't get annoyed because they are so charming when they do it. The pace of life moves differently, the day can be so hectic in the morning, but then around 2 there is a lull, stands and shops are closed and its so quiet. Surprisingly, many of them open again later in the evening, and walking through the streets with the sun setting and the wind cooling the heat of the day, you can smell strawberries and oranges, and here in Sant Agnello there is always a faint scent of jasmine lingering behind the more prominent smells, as jasmine lines most streets and alleys. Nightfall transforms the place into something entirely new. It looks like a completely different town. The hostel we are staying in is amazing. Its new looking and upon walking in you see that its open and airy, with the perfect balance of light and dark colors, looking entirely mediterranean, of the 21st century. There is of course a bar, and an open courtyard with comfortable couches and tables, with cool stone paving. The winning gem is the roof. Not only is the view spectacularly breathtaking, the roof is beautifully decorated and furnished in a casual fashion that invites one to sit and relax. During the night in the dark, the coast line that is visible is lit up, with various shades of light that glint off the mediterranean. During the day you can see quite far, behind you the mountains, infront of you the sea, of such a deep blue, a blue without the grey tint of the pacific or atlantic, its just blue. Looking at it is mesmerising, and you just think of jumping in, completely submersing yourself in the cool blueness.

We visited Pompei, which was utterly magnificent. So ancient, one can't help but be overwhelmed by it. And always lurking in the background is the reminder of just what happened to this city. Mount Vesuvius sits hulking on the horizon, seemingly harmless, but one can't help but think of the destruction and havoc it wreaked. Amidst the drab stone there are splashes of colour, in the remnants of frescos as yet still attached to a wall here and there, and in the flowers that managed to wriggle their way between cracks and crevices in the stone, as if growing in defiance of the life-stealing force that once raged down the mountainside and left the empty shells of people. As ever friendly and ready to chat to anyone, I befriended two young Mormon men, brothers as it were, who very helpfully and graciously explained to us how to get to the bodies that Pompei is so well known for. Its that morbid curiosity that is generally suppressed but at the opportunity to see some remnant of the ancient deceased, is shamelessly brought to the forefront, and in our case indulged. The evening brought us delicious homemade pasta, consumed on the most adorable outdoor patio, just outside the gates of Pompei, with adorable little pots of almost impossibly bright flowers and colorful tablecloths and friendly Italian men speaking the most adorable english. On our way back to the hostel we stopped for the inevitable and undeniable cone of gelato, that scrumious, delightful, unbelievably pleasing Italian concotion. Once we reached the hostel, we cleaned ourselves up, meandered downstairs and bought a drink, and then made our way to the roof. A bottle of Peroni, a most refreshing and delicious Italian beer, friends, and a beautiful Italian evening. Can't really ask for much more!

The following morning saw a somewhat leisurely start, with a small but pleasing breakfast of croissants and juice and odd tasting cocopuffs. They just weren't quite right. We strolled from Sant Agnello into Sorrento, not a terribly long walk, to a highly recommended pizzaria, that was absolutely heavenly. The most delicious pizza, fresh and just the way pizza should be. Followed, of course by gelato! We then wandered around Sorrento, a bustling city, perched on the coast, backed by large, green hills, rather imposing except for the colorful houses. We decided to head back to Sant Agnello and the hostel to take advantage of the sun and the rooftop terrace. Stretched out on a large chair cushion in my bright blue swimsuit I could practically feel the vitamin D soaking into my skin, it was exquisite, I actually fell asleep for a bit. Another delicious pizza for dinner, in a rather bizarre restaurant who's decor oddly reminded me of the set of Golden Girls, full of tourist families and older English couples. Italian pizza and Italian wine really are a divine combination, and this from a girl who'd choose beer or lager 9 times out of 10! Back to the hostel for a few more drinks and bed, only to be driven from the room by the small asian man's impossibly loud snoring. Several drinks, one misunderstanding and an awkward situation later and I'm finally able to sleep.



The following morning was our trip to Capri! It was an iffy start as we were informed the captain wasn't sure we'd even be able to go as the water was extremely rough and there was a storm hovering off the coast. When I heard that I was inexplicably irritated with the captain, as if he had any control over the weather! Well everyone decided to stay the course and go on the trip despite (or to spite?) the weather, and upon meeting the Captain (one Augustino) I immediately retracted my previously undeserved irritation. He was, quite simply, one of the most fantastic men I've ever met and I fell a little bit in love. He was tall, dark and classicaly handsome in that way that only Italian men seem to manage. He was polite without being stuffy and familiar without being pushy or inappropriate, he almost always had a devastating grin on his face, that perfectly complimented his very apparent and irrepressable sense of adventure, and he was responsible and professional the entire time, occasionally offering tidbits of information about the island such as "Look Becca, from here Capri looks like a woman's breasts!" (which, incidentally, it did!) Even without our amazing captain, the day would still have been lovely, such was the charm of Capri and the beauty of the water, however, he certainly made it more fun!



From the first mention of Capri and this boat trip, everyone was talking about the "Blue Grotto" and how beautiful it is. On Capri there were loads of people willing to take you out there on a little boat for ridiculous sums of money, but luckily we had Captain Augo! First we stopped off at Capri and walked around for a few hours, to see the Island. Then back to the boat for Caprese sandwiches (homemade ciabatta bread with homemade mozzarella, the most amazing tomatoes and some olive oil) they were delicious! Washed down with a Peroni, my new favourite beer :) it was the perfect meal. After everyone ate we took the boat around the island to find an area with calm waters to go swimming. We found a lovely area not too far from shore, and though a little windy, the sun was out and it was pleasantly warm. I changed from my dress into my swimsuit and a colourful wrap and stood debating on the deck. The water was extremely enticing, but such is my modesty I don't really like being in my swimsuit infront of people (especially males) that I don't know. So I debated; it doesn't take long to whip off the wrap and jump in the water, but that's still seconds that my bits are exposed! While I stared, unconvinced at the very very blue water, our beloved captain walked up to me, took off my big black retro sunglasses and said "get in" with a little nudge. Who am I to argue with a beautiful Italian man?! So I first made sure my wrap wouldn't blow away and then tried my best to gracefully dive off the platform near the motor, but as its Rebecca Henry we're talking about here, it was somewhat lacking in grace, and more concerned with making sure my swimsuit stayed on, as diving can have some embarrassing recriminations when it comes to swimsuits. The water was lovely, and I just kind of puttered around, floating, swimming, accidentally swallowing seawater, some more floating. Then the ball several of the guys from the boat were playing with got blown into the water, and since I was the only person still in the water, I swam after it, but of course every time I got close it got blown further away. Now I can swim to keep myself from drowning, and I can dog paddle with the best of them, but my endurance sucks. I finally got the stupid ball but not only was I completely knackered, I was now ages away from the boat! So I just nestled the ball against my chest and used it to float on, while furiously kicking my legs. It took forever, but I did make it back to the boat. One of the guys that had been playing with the ball when it got blown off the boat, I believe his name was Kevin, had gotten in the water to help me get the ball when it looked as though I wouldn't make it (I'm only being slightly dramatic) and met me part way, floating in the little intertube I had been frolicking in before my heroics with the ball. He just grinned at me a I came puffing up to him, legs pumping furiously. He was rather attractive, especilly when he smiled, but in the state I was in his disarming grin had very little effect on me, I was too busy concentrating on staying alive! His friend Vincent, even more adorable, with a grin rivalling Captain Augo's, says from the boat "just toss it here" but I knew if I didn't have it to float on I'd probably drown, well I felt as though I would! I crawled my way back onto the boat only to discover that Dan, who had been dubbed Sexy Dan by the girls (only to have that title revoked when they realized he was a drunken creeper, they should have listened to me) had broken my big black retro sunglasses! Some boys just can't handle their beer! Not the end of the world, they were only 4 quid!

We finally made it to the Blue Grotto. I'd heard so much about it, I really wanted to see it. So when Captain Augo yet again said "get in" with a little nudge and pointed to a cave entrance, I didn't think, I just handed him my towel and leapt in,without any pretenses of grace, and swam into the Gratta Azurra. I don't really know what I was expecting but.... honestly words cannot do justice. I can but attempt, which seems insufficient but its all I have. There are just certain sights and experiences that cannot be fully appreciated via oral or literary relation, but I will do my best. To get to the Gratta Azurra you swim through a decent sized opening in the rockface that 2 or 3 people could comfortably swim through at a time. It opens up into a large cavern, but the first thing you notice is that the water that the light from the opening hits glows a bright, clear blue, almost like something from a sci-fi film. The water is fairly calm, and where it isn't glowing its such a dark blue as to almost be black. But no hint of grey, just the deepest of blues. As it does in indoor pools, the water reflects off the roof of the cavern, dancing crazily, completely at random so that the whole place has a blue glow about it. The boys are shouting just to hear the echo, and splashing about as though they're 10 and not 20-something. I hung back, and waited for everyone else to leave, until it was eventually just Kevin and I. We both just stayed there, treading water, in complete understanding and awe, simply appreciating the uniqueness of such an experience. It was indescribably beautiful, and the perfect note upon which to end our time in Italy. Leaving the Blue Grotto, everyone seemed subdued, even our indefatigueable Captain Augustino. He perked up when we got out onto open water and he decided to go just about as fast as we possibly could so that when we hit a wave we practically flew, and everyone on the boat was drenched. I was standing there, clinging to the podium near the helm when he patted it and said "Sit here, you will stay dry" so I climbed up, and remained relatively dry. We spent the rest of the time chatting, about nothing, about lots of things. I honestly have never met a more charming man. Everyone adored him and we all left agreeing that was the best day trip ever and he was the best captain ever.

Touch, Pause, Engage

With the commencement of the British and Irish Lions Tour, I have come to realise just how much I love rugby. But why? Why do I love rugby? I've never been a huge sports fan before, sure I played football (soccer you might say) for almost 8 years, dabbled in basketball, and sucked horrendously at softball, but I was never an avid follower of any of these sports. I still do not fully comprehend American Football, and get annoyed with how much they stop and start again. What is it about rugby?!

Is it the athletic young men running about in shockingly (by American standards) short shorts?! Well I won't deny the appeal that certainly has, I am after all, a woman. But that does not explain why I almost started crying during the Lions first match when the Royal XV scored their last try and I thought we might lose, or why I sat pulling out my hair when the Leicester v Cardiff Heineken Cup semifinal went into penalty kicks, the deciding kick made by one of my favorite players . So I shall attempt to explain this thing that has recently become a large fixture in my life here in the UK.

Rugby has always seemed rather exotic as it is not commonly played in the US, so that in itself makes it more appealing, as I tend to love most things foreign. It was also something I saw as creating a connection between me and Bristol, the city I was preparing to live in for several months (and have been living in since January, for those just joining this program...), as they have a rugby team. But that only inspired me to look into it. It was the sport itself that got me hooked. As most people know, I am studying anthropology, and almost everything I do and experience I contemplate in terms of anthropology. Rugby has its own culture, the fans, the players, they're different than in most other sports. I see rugby as a complex mixture of brutality and chivalry. I think its the complexity of this marriage of opposing ideas that really fascinates me. You spend 80+ minutes watching these men trying to out-run, out-manouvre, out-tackle one another, throwing their bodies almost recklessly into the direct path of another, sometimes resulting in a dustup, punches are occasionally thrown. But even after somone like Alesana Tuilagi or Matt Banahan hurtles himself at somone, slamming them mercilessly into the ground, he often comes back, gives them a hand up, they share a laugh and slap eachother companionably on the back, even as they rejoin the battle for the ball. Even when punches are being thrown, so many of the other players are smiling and laughing it off, knowing its just an overflow of aggression, and rarely ever personal. The same men that bloody eachother's noses in the ruck, that knock the wind out of one another with a well made tackle, hug and laugh after the match, congratulating or consoling depending on their position. I see it as a rather timeless thing, and it reminds me of the expectations of masculinity of the days when rugby first started. Chivalry, passion, power, and a strong sense of justice, whether its in regards to a knock on that was or wasn't actually a knock on, or a tackle that was legally or illegally made, there remains a justness about the sport that is reminiscent of earlier days. To me it almost epitomises masculinity, a concept I find particularly fascnitating and attractive, not just as a person or a woman, but as an anthropologist as well.

Romantic notions aside, its also just bloody exciting to watch! Its hard not to get involved in the game. Its fast and hard and exciting. I get a slight adreneline rush just sitting there! Its an environment that tends to be understated, casual, welcoming and the fans (usually the ones that play themselves), though exchanging sharp banter, at the end of the day tend to show just as much repect as the players (there's always the occassional wum). So there you go, the best I can articulate as to why I love this sport so much :)