Globe Corner Blogs

Bellagio from the Ferry on Lake Como - photo by Cecilia

Finally we arrive in Italy, where we will spend six days at Lake Como. As soon as we are on the Italian side of the Alps, the weather magically changes. It’s no longer that gloomy, drizzly day we saw while enjoying our last morning in Basel. We drive only fifteen minutes through the St. Gottard tunnel, and the warm and bright day that is waiting for us at the exit of the tunnel seems to belong to a different season.

We drive to the town of Cadenabbia di Griante in the Tremezzina region, located in the central region of the lake of Como. Griante is a small town, from where we can visit and explore some of the towns around in the mid-lake region.

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Belfast Map

That’s all the time we had. More to the point, it’s all the time I allowed for on a three week journey through Ireland and the UK with my cousins. A last minute substitution for Dublin, Belfast was unexplored territory for me and therefore, way more enticing. It’s also the hub for a handful of low-cost airlines, and proved a handy and economical base for catching flights to Edinburgh, Scotland, our next destination. Airlines aside, the city was the surprise hit of our trip.  It is full of character and characters, history, and endearing people who stopped their conversations with pals to walk us where we needed to go, even when completely out of their way.

Arriving early in the afternoon allowed us precious daylight hours to explore our home base, the university district. In a scene which reminded me of Greenwich Village, our flat (apartment) lay in a row of attractive brick buildings on a tree-lined street. Dominating the street was a gorgeous stone church that we admired from the bay window of The Barking Dog restaurant, a culinary highlight.  Our charming waiter served up delicious meals and endless conversation in the unique local accent that I could have listened to all day. My favorite phrase, “So I did.” Burning off the amazing salmon pasta I had for lunch, I walked a few blocks further to the botanic gardens, so I did.  Its maze of lawns was alive with picnicking college students, its benches full of book readers.

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Barcelona--photo by Adam

If I didn’t know better, I would have said that we were in an entirely different country.  Had the train ride been just a little bit longer and the Catalan spoken here a little bit less distinctive, it would have been easy to make that mistake.  Two days ago, when I went into the train station, I was surrounded by hay fields and barnyard animals (consisting of chickens, ducks, peacocks, and a horse).  When I got out of the train an hour later I found that the hay fields had turned into skyscrapers and the animals into a population of nearly two million people.

Two days ago we took the train from the small town of Flaça into Barcelona.  The common link between the two, more than anything else, seems to be their language.  Everything else–size, shape, lifestyle, food, pace, density, you name it–could not be more different.  But despite all of their differences, it is quite clear even to the tourist that the two places are linked.  This unity, I learned, dates back to the earlier parts of the 20th century, when Franco was the ruling dictator of Spain.  Wishing to crush any Catalonian sense of independence he officially abolished their unique language and enforced his ruling with marked brutality.  Naturally, his strict laws had the exact opposite that he intended.  The Catalan language became a way to show regional pride and rebuke the harsh dictator.  Following Franco’s demise, Catalan became the required language of everything–from schools to politics to cereal boxes.  Spanish was not allowed to be spoken for more than two hours a week in schools.

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Storm in Spain--photo by Adam

…at 5 o’clock. Two days ago, 4:30 pm: lightning crashes, my mom freaks out, and we still have 20 kilometers left to bike before we reach home.  Ambulance sirens pierce the air as they speed past us.  Yesterday, 5:30 pm: even the closed window can’t stop the deluge of water from finding its way into the house.  The floor shakes with each peal of thunder.  Today, 5 pm: black clouds gather in the distance and forked lightning illuminates the darkening sky.

Today is the third evening of a four day biking trip in Spain, over the course of which we (my parents and I) have been traveling in and among the farm houses and fields in an area slightly north of Girona. It’s amazing here. The views around the countryside are absolutely spectacular, ranging from wide sweeping corn, wheat, and sunflower fields to steep wooded hills, all the while with huge jagged mountains forming an imposing background in the distance.

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Project: Iceland: Music, Art, Fashion

I really need to unsubscribe from Icelandair’s email list. Their emails always appear in my inbox to taunt me just when I am having severe wanderlust attacks — and their deals are just too tempting. Even though I just got back from a two day layover in Reykjavik on my way back from Europe, I want to go back for one of best music festivals in the world: Iceland Airwaves. I have gone before and always returned back to work the next day exhausted, giddy, and carrying an armload of new CDs. But because I went broke in the Balkans this summer, I had resigned all aspirations of attending Iceland Airwaves in October and had even kind of forgot about it.

Then we received a new book yesterday. As I picked it up to put it on the shelf, all I could think was “OH NO, this is not fair!” Its title is Project: Iceland: Music, Art, Fashion and it is a book of photos and interviews of Iceland’s art community. Continue Reading »

Tour Eiffel at Midnight--photo by Jess

While your ears may still be ringing from fireworks and your belly may still be full from binge-eating (and perhaps drinking) BBQs, Independence Day celebrations are yet to be finished! Yes, July 4th has passed. But July 13th is fast approaching. If you find yourself forgetting the significance of this date, you need not worry for two reasons:
1) This date celebrates the anniversary of Bastille Day, the French (yes, French) National Holiday which commemorates their own fight for independence.
2) Bastille Day is actually July 14th. However, remembering July 13th is most likely far more relevant to your life as it’s the date of the Bastille Day in Harvard Square day-to-night block party sponsored by the Harvard Square Business Association.

Heralded as the region’s largest Bastille Day celebration, the joyous day will include live music, a traditional waiters race (no, I’m not exactly sure what that entails…), activities for children, and a en-plein-air beer garden. So check out more details on the event’s official website, mark your calender for this Sunday, and stop by the store to enjoy a 15% discount on all France-related items! Quelle coincidence! All our books and maps of France will be on sale for the rest of July, so you can even catch the end of the Tour de France before you race in.

Rough Guide to Brittany and Normandy

The new destination for the month of July at the store is France (15% off all titles for France!). I always think that I am “over” France, but then something always comes along to remind me why I love it so much. I think that it is precisely all the cliches about France that I love the most. I love the Eiffel Tower, going on bateaux mouches, cafes, crepes, red wine, pain au chocolat and when people mock my “bizarre” accent when I massacre the French language. I lived in a microscopic village in Brittany for a year and now I sound like a strange American-French hillbilly with really outdated slang. I have even been told by professors that my French sounds like the equivalent of what would happen if you sent a Japanese student to the Deep South for a crash course of English. This did loads for my confidence, but in the end I have chosen to think that the way I can’t pronounce my “r” is endearing.

Which brings me to one of my favorite books that deals with being an American struggling with genders of nouns while living in rural France, Me Talk Pretty One Day, by David Sedaris. He makes me laugh and not feel like a linguistic failure. He also makes me really wish that he sat next to me in one of my language classes. I have a feeling he would be the best dialogue partner ever!