(Paris, 10/21/11)

(Paris, 10/21/11)

Many bridges/fences throughout Europe are covered with locks, but it all goes back to this bridge in Paris. They're called "love locks" because a couple attaches it to the bridge to ensure everlasting romance and throws the key into the river.

In theory, the locks will last forever, but the Italian government recently cut all the locks off of the Ponte Vecchio. Sources say it happened in a fit of jealousy cause Italy couldn't find a boyfriend. 

These particular locks struck me as exceptionally awesome.

(Salamanca, 10/27/11)

Plaza Mayor before the storm.

Historically, the richest Charros (people of Salamanca) congregated in the Plaza to show off their wealth. The richer the family, the more luxurious the baby pram. Nowadays, the richest people still live in the apartments along the plaza, but everybody goes there to hang out. Students sit on the ground while families sit at the cafe tables outside for tapas.

(Paris, 10/21/11)

The most beautiful stained glass I've ever seen was in the Sainte-Chapelle, a smaller church near the Notre Dame. It's currently undergoing an intense restoration, for which they've hired professional stained glass experts. Who knew they even existed?

(San Sebastian, 10/11)

Two different perspectives of a beautiful bay.

La Voz Dormida

I saw a movie last night with my program, and I wrote this review directly after, when I was still feeling emotional. Though the review's a bit dramatic, I think La Voz Dormida (The Sleeping Voice) is important to see, and I hope it gets a nod from the Academy.

Most Spanish youth won’t watch movies about the revolution, preferring dubbed action movies from across the Atlantic. But my program director, María, took us to see this civil war film. Opening with a women’s prison and a firing squad, director Benito Zambrano painted a startling portrait of the realities of “Franquismo”. The direction was smooth, the acting brilliant, and the story multifaceted. Zambrano managed to elicit empathy from eight American teenagers growing up during the internet era—we were all in tears by the halfway point. Not Notebook tears. Tears for the woman we watched die, for the victims of the war, for the victims of all wars. And despite knowing the outcome of the film since the first shot, we continued to watch in solidarity.

(Cinque Terre, 08/28/11)

I'm feeling extra nostalgic for the italian riviera since it's been cold and dreary lately. 

Each of the 5 towns had a hiking trail between them, so we decided to do the hardest leg--Vernazza to Monterosso. It was not the easiest hike ever, but the views were worth it.

We bought focaccia to eat on the way. Cinque Terre is where focaccia (and pesto) was created, and it still stands as the best food I had on my trip. The store was tiny, and the guy heated my piece up for me. He loaded it with olive oil and salt, and it was perfectly crisp yet soft on the inside. Italy is food heaven.