Italian Observations
The T-shirts
Walking around in Italy I kept finding myself surprised at what people were wearing. And by that I don't mean the amazing fashion that Italy is know for world wide but the messages that could be read on t-shirts worn everywhere. I often found myself starleted, thinking I must have mistaken but once I had noticed a few, they were everywhere and the competition was on. Me and my sister were soon constantly trying to beat the other with more obscene t-shirts. Here are some of our favourite findings:
Sex expert - white text on black. Worn by 60 year old woman walking out from nice restaurang with friends in similar age. I think I am still in chock.
I am a winner, not a fighter - text covering the entire back of the t-shirt of a 20 something man. Just why?
RICH - text in gold on black. T-shirt worn by teenage boy. As if anyone is gonna believe you.
1969 - massive print on front of t-shirt worn by middle age rather round man. What was his intention with this t-shirt? What does 1969 mean to him? What is he trying to say with it? The questions are many.
... there are more to come here...
The lack of English
No one spoke English. Not even people my age. I took Italian at school for one year and that was 3 years ago but that was still the language that was spoken whenever I had a conversation with an Italian. I found this very sad, especially when me and my sister had found an indie beach club full of hot (!) men! Two sentence conversations don't really go very far, at least not when sober.
The touching of the crotch
Now I'm sorry but I have to bring this up.
I don't particularly fancy italian men, no offence but they're just not my type. So I don't tend to spend that much time looking at them and I especially don't spend any time looking at the area below their belts yet STILL I managed to almost every day spot a man who was scratching his lower parts seemingly completely unashamed at a public place. And it wasn't a case of a quick one finger in the pocket to sort his pants out, it was lenghty sessions worked out on the front of the trouser lasting for at least 5 secons and it was just.. gross! And it happened often and in different places and my sister admitted to having spotted this embarrasing behaviour too! I know that it's hot in Italy and I can understand that jeans can cause issues but please, go to the toilet or turn around or something!
Anyway, having left this behind us I shall leave you with a little treat:
The ice-cream
As many of you will know, the italian ice-cream is amazing. You will not be disappointed. And just like Starbucks print guidebooks on oh so environmentally friendly paper to inform their customers on how they can transform their coffee into a life changing experience, I shall give you my ultimate guide to how to make the most out of your italian ice-cream extravaganza:
1. You normally get to choose cone size, not the amount of ice cream flavours. But generally a piccolo will hold two flavours, a medio three and a giganti twenty.
2. Do not choose anything but a cone as the little buckets don't contain as much ice-cream.
3. Once you have made up your mind on what flavours you want to indulge in, make sure to stand close to the flavour you are most keen on. Standing by it means that when ice cream man comes to take your order, he will most probably start filling the cone with this flavour, meaning that you get most of it.
4. Always choose yogurt as one of your flavours even if this means picking a bigger size. Yogurt is the perfect ice cream flavour and goes with any other flavour, enhancing it. An italian ice cream without yogurt is just impossible.
As you can see I take my ice cream very seriously.
And oh how good it feels
Staying up all night and then going 4 hours by express train across the country to work at a festival in a town where I knew no one or nothing apart from the music of some of my favourite bands proved to be a great idea.
I got to meet some awesome people and see some amazing bands whilst guarding a gate for 4 hours, making sure only photographers with the right badge went into the photo pit and guarding the fence between the beer area and the normal crowd, the latter assignment turning out to be one of the most memorable moments of the whole weekend. Being the only girl running around collecting empty glasses and rocking to Cavalera Conspiracy between 2 fences surrounded by a massive crowd of drunken metalheads proved to be quite the ego-boost... but I was good and went home to my friend's house instead attending any of the many after parties I was invited to.
The following day was a day of waiting, not knowing if I was going to have to work or not (for a while I was written down for arranging In Flames' loge!) until I was told I could have the whole day off. I met up with a girl I had met online and her friend and we had a nice day in the sun watching Soilwork, Finntroll and The Marionettes. Later on we joined the ever growing crowd in the beer tent where I lost the girls but gained new friends whilst watching a pretty lame Nightwish.
The grand finale that night was of course the clash of Clutch on the Close Up stage and In Flames on the main one. Clutch were amazing for the 4 songs I watched them from the front of the crowd before I left for the headlining Swedish metal kings. However I had to drag my ass away from the festival midway through the set to meet my friends in town and as I was crossing the bridge over to Gothenburg city alone, with a heart beating like crazy and the cool breeze in my hair, In Flames started playing Alias and I felt happier than I had in a very long time.
In town we went to Sticky Fingers night club where I met up with a hot tattooed drummer from an up and coming hardcore rock band and had a bit of a chat whilst watching an amazing AC/DC tribute band. However after having been to the toilet and engaged in conversation with a supposed female Satyricon member for a bit too long I lost the guy and then got a text saying he had been thrown out for having been involved in a gang fight featuring him and his mates versus a certain motor cycle gang. Suddenly I was relieved that I was not with him but freaked out because my friend had left and I was on my own in a way too busy nightclub in a city far away from home.
The following day was spent being hung-over as fuck in town, drinking lots of coffee and eating expensive but gorgeous food and then watching the European Cup finale, which shall for ever be ignored as if it never happened.
Monday morning I was headed homewards via a quick stop at my grandmother's when I got the news that a family member had died. It came completely out of the blue, it was horrible and it made seeing my old grandma feel even more important and good.
Back in Stockholm I had a week of drooling over CDs in Sound Pollution every time I got chance to and drinking beer with friends during warm and beautiful Stockholm summer nights. It's impossible not to fall in love with Stockholm at this time of the year and oh how good it feels.
A meeting with the editor of the magazine I will be having my work placement at in a months time reassured me once more of how much I want to become a journalist, the month I'm going to spend there is going to kick ass!
After a day of working in a fascinating old lady's garden my week was finished off with a long anticipated night out with the girls and it was bloody awesome. Many cocktails and a very quick visit to a random party later we ended up at an indie club in central Stockholm. It was a night full of silly dancing, random conversations and visits to the men's loo (the line to ladies was just too long after 4 cocktails and 2 beers). I seem to recall talking to an English speaking guy who it turned out went to Hull University of all places and then finding the only metalhead in the building to share Metaltown memories and saliva with. When he suggested sex in a park I decided it was time to go home. Alone.
Today has been spent on facebook, making the most out of this community that quickly has taken over my life before leaving for internet-less Rome tomorrow morning, or rather tonight as my bus leaves at 2.58 am.
It may sound bad but I think many would agree with me when I say that 2 weeks without Internet is gonna hurt. I hope to find some kind of web-providing café at some point to check my exam results which are released next week though...
Until next time: ciao Bella!
