So as you could tell, I have lost track of days here, to say the least. But I did make it a priority to update my blog specifically today, because I just returned from an impromptu weekend in France.
A friend of mine, D, lives in Nice, so I contacted her on Facebook, and she invited me to spend the weekend at her place. I figured, why not take a 3-day break from school, especially since France was just a 50-minute flight away from me? I booked a trip via Blu-Express (clearly not the company I spoke of earlier, so there's your hint, it's NOT Blu-Express that wronged me so badly), from June 3 through June 6. Both flights were direct, without a concourse, and were the cheapest around, so I was excited. On June 3rd, I hitched a cab, and got to Fiumicino airport, just in time to catch my plane.
(Spoiler alert: both planes there and back were equally late about an hour)
I landed in Nice, and D met me at the terminal. I was happy to see her after not having seen her for about a year. Before a year ago, I haven't seen her in over 7 years. So, needless to say, we had a lot of catching up to do!
D lives at a single studio near the promenade (the French boardwalk), just a block away from the shore of Cote D'Azure. We grabbed some food at the local store. D cooked some incredible meat for dinner (either that, or I was starving, but I think it was both). We exchanged stories of the past nearly decade over some beer and steak, and reminisced about elementary school, which now seems way back when. We made plans to take a train to Marseilles the following morning. We passed out after watching Scott Pilgrim and a few episodes of South Park, and woke up rather early the following morning, so as to not miss the Marseilles train.
In under three hours, we rode around what we thought was 500 km, but turned out to be just 200 km, from Nice to Marseille, by train. Despite the semi-cloudy weather, the trip was great: I enjoyed sights on the way to, at, and on the way back from the infamous city of soccer aficionados. I witnessed a diverse culture that makes up France: from tourists like myself snapping pictures left and right, to immigrants from the middle east selling fake Ray Bans and Rolexes, to authentic Frenchmen annoyed with all of the above. I saw unbelievable architecture, and the fact that I've studied French for nearly a decade prior to this trip made it all the better. Everything that teachers told me in the classrooms about France was true (with the exception that they don't frequently touch each other during conversation at cafes, and that they aren't as big of creeps towards women as I had thought). Roaming the streets of Marseille was as much fun, if not more fun, than roaming the streets of Rome. But time was of the essence, as our train back was around 6pm.
We got back to Nice just as it started to rain. I got to experience the crazy Nice drivers, who have more room to work with than bus drivers in Rome, but they compensate for it in speed rather than precise handling. It was already late. D and I decided that the following morning we would roam the streets of Nice.
The following morning the streets of Nice weren't roamable due to rain. Instead, D and I watched Mulholland Drive on her computer, and talked about life and such. We were stuck indoors most of the night. I crawled out into the night around 11pm to check out the boardwalk, but wasn't roaming for long. I snapped some pictures, turned around, and called it a night. It ended with more South Park.
I woke up the next morning, and it was almost time to head back to the airport. After all, this was only a 3-day trip, and my flight back was scheduled for 14:30 (for those who don't understand, do the conversion, don't be lazy). Of course, as you already know, it was delayed an hour (Surprise! Cheap airlines).
I got back to Rome just fine, hitched the Leonardo Express train to downtown from the airport, and walked to the Colosseum to see what it was like during sunset. OK, I admit it, I got lost. But the Colosseum looked awesome at 7pm. I was home, with groceries in hand, by 8pm. It was Tortellini night for dinner tonight.
This trip wouldn't be possible if it wasn't for Facebook. Interesting, isn't it?
For no particular reason, I dedicate this song to her: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qsgBF7ZIsk
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Colosseum, And Other Breathtaking Stuff
Day 5
I was very upset yesterday, so I didn't make a post. I got my luggage yesterday, with no laptop. I had my suspicions that it would be gone, and unfortunately my fears came to fruition. I had all my work on it, and no recent backup. In hindsight, I wish I had done two things: take a recent backup off of my laptop, and not bring it in my suitcase (OK, I agree, that was really dumb of me - but when paying $1300+ for travel, I at least expect all my stuff to get there, ya know?)
Anyways, I thought, stuff happens - I'm not going to let it bog me down. So on day 4, after classes were over, my roommates and I decided to go out and have fun downtown. We met up with some girls that they met, and two of them were also from UMD. As a group of about 14 people, we left, got on a tram, and went to familiar grounds - Campo Di Fiora. It's a huge square with a bunch of restaurants, Americans, and bars. At one bar, we ordered some pitchers of Malibu, grapefruit and orange - at about 19 Euros a pop - some rum and cokes, and of course, beer. Feeling a bit loose, we went on to other bars, to see what kinds of bars they had and to see what other awesome drinks they might have out there. Nothing surprised us too much - besides the fact that bars around Campo Di Fiora specifically cater to Americans, with baseball and other sports games on TVs, and American music playing. I got back around 2:30am, and went to sleep right away. It was a good night.
So the ACTUAL day 5 started the next morning. It was my first weekend day here, where I had not a care in the world, and could do anything. Without further ado, I decided not to beat around the bush and go straight to the Colosseum! A little something you should know about me: I detest large groups of people taking tours, for a few reasons. Number one, you have to "stick with the program" which means if you're at a sight and you want to move on, but others are still taking pictures and buying souvenirs, you're stuck waiting for X amount of time as the day goes on. Number two, you aren't in control: I like to roam, and if I want to go left on a side street, there's no one telling me they want to go right. I like roaming around, just my thoughts and I, gasping at each incredible sight that is Roma.
Shortly before noon, I hopped on bus 75, which took me to another stop, where I transferred to bus 4. A few stops later, I could see it: the Flavian Ampitheatre was huge! I learned last year in a human literature class about its significance to public affairs, from dramatic performances to public executions. It was finally in front of me, in its full glory. The line to the Colosseum was like 2 hours long, there were about 200 tourists in line. Besides familiar English, I overheard a lot of Russian talk - I guess Rome is famous among the Ruskis. Snapped pictures here and there, got about 80 of them, I'd say. Then my camera battery died. But before it did, I was able to take some pictures of myself in front of beautiful places. Here is a map of my travels that day:
I stopped by a gorgeous Chinese place that served mediocre, but inexpensive food. What the place lacked in taste, it gained in design: it was so Chinese that it would put even the best Chinese place in my town to shame. I think every such restaurant should be heavy on authentic design. I was surprised not to see my familiar favorites on the menu: sesame chicken and orange chicken were nowhere in sight. Instead, they had delicious alternatives like curry chicken and portabello mushroom duck. I ordered pollo con ananas, and got a decent size plate of chicken with pineapple in pineapple sauce. It was great. Unlike in the U.S., rice comes extra - you get what you pay for. No freebies in Rome.
It was shortly after the restaurant that my camera died, but I didn't let it discourage me. I still soaked in the sights of Rome, some of which really made me gasp for air. What a beautiful city.
I was tired and on my way back by 4pm. I was back by 5pm, ate dinner, and decided to take a nap around 6pm. The nap turned into full-blown sleep. I woke up at midnight. That's when the realization that my camera charger was in my laptop bag occurred to me. The USB cable itself, it turns out, doesn't charge it. Upset, I almost ordered one online, but realized I'm better off going to a computer store on Monday (nearly everything is closed Sundays). I stayed up until 4am planning a trip to Brussels, Belgium or Nice, France - haven't decided where yet. I've got friends at both who would love to show me their town and host me for a weekend. I decided not to make rash decisions, and to sleep on it.
It's day 6 as I'm typing this. My roommate surprised me with a camera battery charger this morning! It turns out the charger for his camera also charges my battery - what a fortunate coincidence. So just now, I cooked eggs with ham for breakfast. I think I am going to run out and grab some groceries. I want to make a nice dinner (or breakfast?) for my roommates. Through my troubles with the luggage and stuff, they were there for me to help me out, so it's time I do something nice for them.
See ya!
I was very upset yesterday, so I didn't make a post. I got my luggage yesterday, with no laptop. I had my suspicions that it would be gone, and unfortunately my fears came to fruition. I had all my work on it, and no recent backup. In hindsight, I wish I had done two things: take a recent backup off of my laptop, and not bring it in my suitcase (OK, I agree, that was really dumb of me - but when paying $1300+ for travel, I at least expect all my stuff to get there, ya know?)
Anyways, I thought, stuff happens - I'm not going to let it bog me down. So on day 4, after classes were over, my roommates and I decided to go out and have fun downtown. We met up with some girls that they met, and two of them were also from UMD. As a group of about 14 people, we left, got on a tram, and went to familiar grounds - Campo Di Fiora. It's a huge square with a bunch of restaurants, Americans, and bars. At one bar, we ordered some pitchers of Malibu, grapefruit and orange - at about 19 Euros a pop - some rum and cokes, and of course, beer. Feeling a bit loose, we went on to other bars, to see what kinds of bars they had and to see what other awesome drinks they might have out there. Nothing surprised us too much - besides the fact that bars around Campo Di Fiora specifically cater to Americans, with baseball and other sports games on TVs, and American music playing. I got back around 2:30am, and went to sleep right away. It was a good night.
So the ACTUAL day 5 started the next morning. It was my first weekend day here, where I had not a care in the world, and could do anything. Without further ado, I decided not to beat around the bush and go straight to the Colosseum! A little something you should know about me: I detest large groups of people taking tours, for a few reasons. Number one, you have to "stick with the program" which means if you're at a sight and you want to move on, but others are still taking pictures and buying souvenirs, you're stuck waiting for X amount of time as the day goes on. Number two, you aren't in control: I like to roam, and if I want to go left on a side street, there's no one telling me they want to go right. I like roaming around, just my thoughts and I, gasping at each incredible sight that is Roma.
Shortly before noon, I hopped on bus 75, which took me to another stop, where I transferred to bus 4. A few stops later, I could see it: the Flavian Ampitheatre was huge! I learned last year in a human literature class about its significance to public affairs, from dramatic performances to public executions. It was finally in front of me, in its full glory. The line to the Colosseum was like 2 hours long, there were about 200 tourists in line. Besides familiar English, I overheard a lot of Russian talk - I guess Rome is famous among the Ruskis. Snapped pictures here and there, got about 80 of them, I'd say. Then my camera battery died. But before it did, I was able to take some pictures of myself in front of beautiful places. Here is a map of my travels that day:
I stopped by a gorgeous Chinese place that served mediocre, but inexpensive food. What the place lacked in taste, it gained in design: it was so Chinese that it would put even the best Chinese place in my town to shame. I think every such restaurant should be heavy on authentic design. I was surprised not to see my familiar favorites on the menu: sesame chicken and orange chicken were nowhere in sight. Instead, they had delicious alternatives like curry chicken and portabello mushroom duck. I ordered pollo con ananas, and got a decent size plate of chicken with pineapple in pineapple sauce. It was great. Unlike in the U.S., rice comes extra - you get what you pay for. No freebies in Rome.
It was shortly after the restaurant that my camera died, but I didn't let it discourage me. I still soaked in the sights of Rome, some of which really made me gasp for air. What a beautiful city.
I was tired and on my way back by 4pm. I was back by 5pm, ate dinner, and decided to take a nap around 6pm. The nap turned into full-blown sleep. I woke up at midnight. That's when the realization that my camera charger was in my laptop bag occurred to me. The USB cable itself, it turns out, doesn't charge it. Upset, I almost ordered one online, but realized I'm better off going to a computer store on Monday (nearly everything is closed Sundays). I stayed up until 4am planning a trip to Brussels, Belgium or Nice, France - haven't decided where yet. I've got friends at both who would love to show me their town and host me for a weekend. I decided not to make rash decisions, and to sleep on it.
It's day 6 as I'm typing this. My roommate surprised me with a camera battery charger this morning! It turns out the charger for his camera also charges my battery - what a fortunate coincidence. So just now, I cooked eggs with ham for breakfast. I think I am going to run out and grab some groceries. I want to make a nice dinner (or breakfast?) for my roommates. Through my troubles with the luggage and stuff, they were there for me to help me out, so it's time I do something nice for them.
See ya!
Friday, May 27, 2011
First Day Of Seminars
Day 3
I'll keep this one short.
Accomplishments for the day:
- Bought a ticket to see Tiesto on June 2nd. I am very excited. I missed Tiesto last summer when I was in Moscow and he had a show flat in the middle of Red Square, and I was upset about that. But now I'm here in Rome, and fate would have it that he's performing 8 days before my birthday!
- Went out and got groceries. I cooked dinner (this was last night). I butchered it up - it was rough. I'll cook my pasta for an extra 5 minutes next time!
- I got lost on my way home from AUR. I missed my bus stop, and ended up riding all the way to the last stop (capolinea), with two bags of groceries in hand. It was quite the adventure. I ended up getting tired of walking around, so I called a cab. Sure enough, I was two blocks away (but the taxi driver took his sweet time circling blocks to get his well-earned 7 Euros).
- I found out that grocery stores in the area close at 8pm. Our at-home pasta dinner was a saltless, butterless culinary experiment that was only edible thanks to some tomato sauce that my Villanova roommates were able to borrow from friends down the street.
- I figured out what was wrong with my camera: I brought the wrong memory card! After I'm done typing this post, I'm going out to buy one.
First day of seminars:
- My first seminar is called New Product Development and Management. Taught by Professor Robert Sonnabend, it's a comprehensive, quick-paced class on creative thinking, market research, product creation (problem/solution type of deal), and brand marketing. We just went over the syllabus and talked in class to get to know each other. The teacher is very experienced in the business world: he has worked with over 1,500 business partners of about our age, he's done work for Raytheon and has an MBA from Babson. He's laid back and lets us relax in class, but he is going to keep us on our toes with quizzes and new information that we have to write down in class and look up at home. He's got an interesting approach to teaching and I wonder where the class will go from here on out!
- My second seminar is called Organizational Behavior in a Global Context. The teacher is Professor Marshall Langer. I haven't been known to say this since middle school, where I had an amazing social studies teacher who was an Olympic gold medalist from Japan's 1968 track and field event, but Professor Langer is a phenomenal person who is nothing short of being an incredible mastermind of easy-going communication. Without much effort put into high school and college, he earned an MBA from Wharton, worked on Wall Street, worked for a large advertising agency in England, and did about a dozen of other things in his career. What struck me as most impressive about him is his way of getting people to like him. He does not come across as manipulative at all, but he gets his way in almost every single situation. Unafraid to admit past mistakes, he taught us to be modest when we speak with potential business partners or interviewees, and to not be afraid to show weakness. Professor Langer also taught us how to take interest in other people's careers, and told us engaging stories of his personal and professional discoveries throughout life. At only 45 years of age, he left no option for us but to leave the class speechless. In one exercise, I volunteered to be asked questions in front of the class about anything and everything. He asked the class to pay attention to me as a person, and pinpoint their instincts, so they could talk about them later. After a fifteen minute "icebreaker" with the class, I got feedback on what people liked and didn't like about me. Their brutal honesty was incredibly rare. I was told by one classmate that they started zoning out at one point, which told me that they were getting bored. Another classmate asked about my business, and thought that my response was a bit pompous, and that it seemed as if I was trying a little too hard to impress them, and that I should perhaps speak of some things that I don't do too well (as opposed to only talking about what I do well). After my turn was over, another classmate did the same exercise. After she was done, she also got feedback about herself. then, Professor Langer asked, "If you were making a hiring decision, who would you hire and why?" One classmate said they'd hire me; another said they'd hire the girl who presented after me. We talked about why they had diverging opinions. This seminar is going to be one of the most productive ways I could spend time, and I almost feel bad that this program cost so little. Professor Langer's time and expertise are worth an exponentially greater amount of money, and it makes me feel very privileged to have access to knit-pick his brain for things that will make me a better entrepreneur.
Wow, this post wasn't as short as I anticipated. Let's call it a day here. Arrivederci!
I'll keep this one short.
Accomplishments for the day:
- Bought a ticket to see Tiesto on June 2nd. I am very excited. I missed Tiesto last summer when I was in Moscow and he had a show flat in the middle of Red Square, and I was upset about that. But now I'm here in Rome, and fate would have it that he's performing 8 days before my birthday!
- Went out and got groceries. I cooked dinner (this was last night). I butchered it up - it was rough. I'll cook my pasta for an extra 5 minutes next time!
- I got lost on my way home from AUR. I missed my bus stop, and ended up riding all the way to the last stop (capolinea), with two bags of groceries in hand. It was quite the adventure. I ended up getting tired of walking around, so I called a cab. Sure enough, I was two blocks away (but the taxi driver took his sweet time circling blocks to get his well-earned 7 Euros).
- I found out that grocery stores in the area close at 8pm. Our at-home pasta dinner was a saltless, butterless culinary experiment that was only edible thanks to some tomato sauce that my Villanova roommates were able to borrow from friends down the street.
- I figured out what was wrong with my camera: I brought the wrong memory card! After I'm done typing this post, I'm going out to buy one.
First day of seminars:
- My first seminar is called New Product Development and Management. Taught by Professor Robert Sonnabend, it's a comprehensive, quick-paced class on creative thinking, market research, product creation (problem/solution type of deal), and brand marketing. We just went over the syllabus and talked in class to get to know each other. The teacher is very experienced in the business world: he has worked with over 1,500 business partners of about our age, he's done work for Raytheon and has an MBA from Babson. He's laid back and lets us relax in class, but he is going to keep us on our toes with quizzes and new information that we have to write down in class and look up at home. He's got an interesting approach to teaching and I wonder where the class will go from here on out!
- My second seminar is called Organizational Behavior in a Global Context. The teacher is Professor Marshall Langer. I haven't been known to say this since middle school, where I had an amazing social studies teacher who was an Olympic gold medalist from Japan's 1968 track and field event, but Professor Langer is a phenomenal person who is nothing short of being an incredible mastermind of easy-going communication. Without much effort put into high school and college, he earned an MBA from Wharton, worked on Wall Street, worked for a large advertising agency in England, and did about a dozen of other things in his career. What struck me as most impressive about him is his way of getting people to like him. He does not come across as manipulative at all, but he gets his way in almost every single situation. Unafraid to admit past mistakes, he taught us to be modest when we speak with potential business partners or interviewees, and to not be afraid to show weakness. Professor Langer also taught us how to take interest in other people's careers, and told us engaging stories of his personal and professional discoveries throughout life. At only 45 years of age, he left no option for us but to leave the class speechless. In one exercise, I volunteered to be asked questions in front of the class about anything and everything. He asked the class to pay attention to me as a person, and pinpoint their instincts, so they could talk about them later. After a fifteen minute "icebreaker" with the class, I got feedback on what people liked and didn't like about me. Their brutal honesty was incredibly rare. I was told by one classmate that they started zoning out at one point, which told me that they were getting bored. Another classmate asked about my business, and thought that my response was a bit pompous, and that it seemed as if I was trying a little too hard to impress them, and that I should perhaps speak of some things that I don't do too well (as opposed to only talking about what I do well). After my turn was over, another classmate did the same exercise. After she was done, she also got feedback about herself. then, Professor Langer asked, "If you were making a hiring decision, who would you hire and why?" One classmate said they'd hire me; another said they'd hire the girl who presented after me. We talked about why they had diverging opinions. This seminar is going to be one of the most productive ways I could spend time, and I almost feel bad that this program cost so little. Professor Langer's time and expertise are worth an exponentially greater amount of money, and it makes me feel very privileged to have access to knit-pick his brain for things that will make me a better entrepreneur.
Wow, this post wasn't as short as I anticipated. Let's call it a day here. Arrivederci!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Must. Sleep. Now.
Day 2/3
I say this is day 2/3 because of my jetlag.
As soon as I got to AUR, I was told that my orientation would start at 11am. It was just after 10am. It felt good to be here, because the last nearly 48 hours I was on a mission, and it finally came to fruition. It was early morning and the sun was still rising, but my body felt like it was 7 at night. That told me I'd crash relatively soon. After the orientation, where they showed us a funny YouTube video (which is very true of Italy) and talked about safety and all that stuff, they called the housing agency. A guy picked me up and took me to my apartment, where I was eager to meet my new roommate. It turned out that I had five of them. The apartment was larger than I expected, because I know that everything is tiny in Europe compared to American standards, so I was happy. I found the one bed that was still made and didn't have a suitcase under it, and crashed. An hour later five guys woke me up: "what's up dude!?!?" I wish I wasn't brain dead at the time to make sense of their replies when I did the autopilot "Hey guys, my name is Vas, nice to meet you, what are your names" routine. They had arrived a day early with everyone else, as they were supposed to (no surprise there - when I was looking under the beds to see which one wasn't taken, their suitcases had tags from a different airline, I presume one that doesn't delay their customers on time-sensitive trips). They were still jetlagged - not like myself, because they had the one night of catching up on sleep while I was wide awake at the airport. We all took an extra 3 hours of shuteye, and decided to head downtown when we woke up around 7pm.
We hopped on the tram to some large restaurant-tourist-entertainers-hangout area. This was just last night, and I was still so tired that I had no idea how we got there or what it was called. I'll ask my roommates when I get back and update you all. We grabbed some pizza and mused at the magicians who would monotonously yell "Quarta! Quarta!" to get attention as they did a short routine. The "magic" act (if you could even call it that - it was so pathetic that I couldn't tell if he was being serious) ended with him doing a funny lazzi by pretending that there's nothing attached to his head as he rips off his toupee and collects change in it. I could tell how tired everyone was, because the restaurant took it's sweet time to bring our food out, and we were near silent. As our stomachs got the sugar flowing, the conversations flowed with it. I called it a night when two AUR students I had met that day walked me back to my apartment, because theirs was just around the block, and my roommates decided to stay out longer. I had a 7am class and by that point it was past 12am. We were lucky to catch the tram back. Next night, I told myself, I would plan our outings' logistics a little better (no one really had the brain power to do so at the time).
I called home again and called it a night. Tomorrow would be first day of seminars.
I say this is day 2/3 because of my jetlag.
As soon as I got to AUR, I was told that my orientation would start at 11am. It was just after 10am. It felt good to be here, because the last nearly 48 hours I was on a mission, and it finally came to fruition. It was early morning and the sun was still rising, but my body felt like it was 7 at night. That told me I'd crash relatively soon. After the orientation, where they showed us a funny YouTube video (which is very true of Italy) and talked about safety and all that stuff, they called the housing agency. A guy picked me up and took me to my apartment, where I was eager to meet my new roommate. It turned out that I had five of them. The apartment was larger than I expected, because I know that everything is tiny in Europe compared to American standards, so I was happy. I found the one bed that was still made and didn't have a suitcase under it, and crashed. An hour later five guys woke me up: "what's up dude!?!?" I wish I wasn't brain dead at the time to make sense of their replies when I did the autopilot "Hey guys, my name is Vas, nice to meet you, what are your names" routine. They had arrived a day early with everyone else, as they were supposed to (no surprise there - when I was looking under the beds to see which one wasn't taken, their suitcases had tags from a different airline, I presume one that doesn't delay their customers on time-sensitive trips). They were still jetlagged - not like myself, because they had the one night of catching up on sleep while I was wide awake at the airport. We all took an extra 3 hours of shuteye, and decided to head downtown when we woke up around 7pm.
We hopped on the tram to some large restaurant-tourist-entertainers-hangout area. This was just last night, and I was still so tired that I had no idea how we got there or what it was called. I'll ask my roommates when I get back and update you all. We grabbed some pizza and mused at the magicians who would monotonously yell "Quarta! Quarta!" to get attention as they did a short routine. The "magic" act (if you could even call it that - it was so pathetic that I couldn't tell if he was being serious) ended with him doing a funny lazzi by pretending that there's nothing attached to his head as he rips off his toupee and collects change in it. I could tell how tired everyone was, because the restaurant took it's sweet time to bring our food out, and we were near silent. As our stomachs got the sugar flowing, the conversations flowed with it. I called it a night when two AUR students I had met that day walked me back to my apartment, because theirs was just around the block, and my roommates decided to stay out longer. I had a 7am class and by that point it was past 12am. We were lucky to catch the tram back. Next night, I told myself, I would plan our outings' logistics a little better (no one really had the brain power to do so at the time).
I called home again and called it a night. Tomorrow would be first day of seminars.
BWI >> JFK >> FCO
Day 1/2
When I was in England on a concourse flight, awaiting the arrival of the next plane, I wrote notes on things that stuck out to me while traveling. Why did I say England, when the title of this post doesn't mention London? Let the nightmare story begin.
My itinerary was to leave from Baltimore, arrive to NYC, and then fly directly to Rome. Things could not have gotten any worse. I will leave the name of the airline out of this, although they haven't yet made it right for me, but let's just say, I will never fly with them again unless they give me a free round trip to China or something. Let me explain it in a nutshell.
My flight out of Baltimore was an hour late for departure. I thought, no big deal - I've got a little under two hours to get to the next plane once I'm at JFK. But not only did the plane leave late, "due to air traffic control" as they said, but it took another eternity to taxi it to the gate. As I rushed to the nearby terminal to find my gate, I saw "LAST CALL" blinking on the board. Long story short, I missed the flight. The customer service representative for the airline booked another flight for me, to Rome, via London. This time, the concourse period between the two planes was about four hours. We left late yet again, but not very late. I waited in London for three hours to board the next flight.
As I boarded the final flight to Rome, I prayed that everything would work out. Originally, I was set to arrive in Rome in the morning, where I would meet a ride who'd drive us to the University for free. I thought, "What are the chances that THIS flight will also be late," completely disregarding what I had just learned in Business Statistics this past semester. Turns out, this plane was even more late than the Baltimore plane: we left two hours behind schedule. Seventeen thousand cusswords in three different languages were on my mind, as I realized that there was no way that I will physically get to Rome in time for the last student pickup by the University. And that wasn't even the worst part: the University closes check-in at 5pm, and as I did the math in my head, I realized that there was no way I'd come before 8pm. This meant I would have to get a hotel for the night, and I had zero information on hotels in Rome: I didn't know where they were, how much I'd have to shell out, and what would be the best way to get to them. I'm an optimistic person who said "I'll be fine" as I had no other options - I was already on the plane, and there was nothing I could do about the best airline in the world that did this to me.
I get to Rome around 8pm. Up for about 24 hours and running on 3 hours of sleep, I eagerly walk over to baggage claim. As I went from Baltimore to New York to London to Rome, every customer service rep that I spoke with assured me that despite me missing my New York >> Rome flight, my luggage was on the way to Rome. The story quickly changed once I spoke with them at the arrival terminal at Fiumicino Airport. "Your luggage is still in New York City, Sir," I was told. While I was thinking exactly what you would have been thinking at the time, I was patient and gave them the University's address. After waiving my right to not have my stuff opened and looked at by Customs, I realized I needed to let the family know that I'm OK. But first, I wanted to check into the hotel. All hope was lost when I learned that the only hotel around was Hilton, but I walked there to find out the prices anyways. I was handed two incredible bargains: 220 Euros for a night's stay, or 235 Euros with breakfast included. Wonderful. I said "thanks but no thanks" and decided to save $30 / hour on sleeping by going back to the airport. Now was the time to call my folks. They worry - sometimes too much - but it just means they care, and it would be impossible to survive a study abroad program if you knew no one back at home cares about you.
I quickly found a pay phone card ATM and get a 10-Euro calling card to let the folks at home know that I'm fine. One minute into the call, I hear "You have one minute remaining." What the heck? I expected this calling card to last me at least a week! After an abruptly ended conversation, I called customer service, who eagerly told me that I just paid 4 Euros a minute for the call. Beautiful. Welcome to Europe! But of course I knew that everything was going to cost through the roof in Italy, especially at the airport full of rich tourists and businessmen. After all, I was arriving for two marketing seminars! So I took it as a lesson learned: bring an unlocked GPS phone with you, and buy a cheap, disposable SIM card ASAP.
I finally got a hold of them via collect call, and told them how everything was going. I hope they don't get a bill for $800,000 at the end of the month, but I wouldn't be surprised (I'm kidding, Dad).
It was time to pass some time. I roamed around the airport, just to check it out, when I noticed the first Italian peculiarity. They had five terminals, the fifth one being in a separate location that takes you to terminals 1-4 on a shuttle bus. Terminals 1-4 are all connected, but there's a trick to them: the doors to the outside are closed at random times in the middle of the night. One terminal, said a sign on the door, would be closed from 00:30-3:30am; another one would be closed from 3-6am. I found this odd, because I didn't see any barricades inside the airport - you know, like metal gates or posts that would prevent access from one terminal to the other. But that's just how things were.
Around 3am, a group of bums - me included - got kicked out of terminal 2, which was closing. We walked 2 minutes over to terminal 3, which said it would be closed, but the automatic door kept automatically opening and closing, without anyone even walking by to set off the motion detector, all throughout the night. When I first walked up to terminal 3, an Italian security guard approached me: "YES!?" he asks, as if I looked out of place. "I need to check the arrival times," I said. I thought it to be a much better answer than "I'm a bum from America, I need to crash here until my study abroad university opens." I didn't even know if the security guard spoke English well (it didn't look like he did). He let me through to check the times. I pretended to talk on the phone, and when he wasn't looking I sat down behind a group of people - some waiting to leave in the morning, some were homeless - and read the chapters I needed to know as a prerequisite for one of the seminars.
My brain refused to shut off, and that's when I could no longer ignore the undeniable jetlag that I faced. I would sit and read my text book, look around the airport, and roam outside and inside for some fresh air just to kill the next 8-9 hours ahead of me. But like I said, I'm an optimist. At one point in my life I would like to backpack across Europe. Bumming a night at the airport is an adventure to me. And if I want to survive Europe later on in my life, this would be a great conditioning. The worst part about it was loneliness. I had no one to talk to. I would hope I'd recognize an American backpack and have a friend to chat with to pass the time, but that simply wasn't the case until around 4am. I met a girl who sat next to me and was flipping through printed-out powerpoint slides, which I recognized to be formulas from Economics. They were in English, so I asked, "Are you waiting for AUR?" She seemed confused, but I explained what I meant. She was from Lebanon. She said she was waiting on her plane at 6:50am, and that she was spending the night because her Italian friends said they'd give her a ride at 5am, but that Italians are always late: 5am means 6am in Italy when a friend promises you a ride, she said. We chatted about business (she was going for a double Masters in Econ and something else), celebrities and our home countries. Before I knew it, 7am rolled around and I went to double check on my luggage. "It's still in New York, Sir." Interesting, because I could have sworn there was a flight arriving at 9:30am; the arrivals screen said so. I had filed my complaint about the lost luggage nearly eleven hours before, so this surprised me. Yet another piece of evidence of great customer care by the nameless airline.
Tired as a dog and walking around in a frenzy like a zombie without sleep, I got on the train that would take me to downtown Rome. From there, I would take a cab to the airport. Because I was so exhausted and nothing made sense, I bought the wrong train ticket. The ticket checker person came by. I had to pay the extra 6 Euros for getting on the express train instead of the slow train that I had paid for, plus an 8 Euro fine. No big deal - just another story to tell.
So I got to downtown Rome at Termini, and hopped in a taxi. My parents had warned about the taxi scam, so I tried finding bus #75 that would take me direct to the University. The departure guide that I was given back at UMD said the stop would be right outside the train station. After half an hour of roaming, I could not find it. I saw a HUGE line of people in queue for taxis: I'm talking like 300 people lined back 50 yards or so, with an occasional taxi pulling up every 30 seconds or so. It was already 9:30am, and I had no time to spare. This was already Day 2 of my adventure, I was exhausted, and I needed to shower badly. On top of everything, I didn't want to miss our orientation - the school said it was mandatory. I didn't know what time it starts, so expecting the worst, I knew I had to get there ASAP.
So there I was, with a my carry-on backpack and no luggage, looking at this huge taxi line. The departure guide said that the taxi ride would be approx. 10-15 Euros. Around the corner I saw three taxis waiting on passengers. Knowing my basic supply-and-demand theory, I knew right away these were the crooks. Exhausted, optionless, and in a rush to orientation, I sacrificed myself to be their victim. I asked, "how far is this address?" and the friendly taxi driver with Euro signs in his eyeballs said "about 5 kilometers, very close, very close." I get inside, and he looks at the map. There started his Italian sales pitch. I didn't understand a word, but it basically boiled down to, "it's very close, I'll get you there fast, it'll be about forty Euros." It was frustrating, but just about as much as I would pay for a taxi at that moment. Fifteen minutes and forty Euros later, I was finally at my destination.
Should've taken Dad's advice to spend the extra $400 and fly direct without concourses.
When I was in England on a concourse flight, awaiting the arrival of the next plane, I wrote notes on things that stuck out to me while traveling. Why did I say England, when the title of this post doesn't mention London? Let the nightmare story begin.
My itinerary was to leave from Baltimore, arrive to NYC, and then fly directly to Rome. Things could not have gotten any worse. I will leave the name of the airline out of this, although they haven't yet made it right for me, but let's just say, I will never fly with them again unless they give me a free round trip to China or something. Let me explain it in a nutshell.
My flight out of Baltimore was an hour late for departure. I thought, no big deal - I've got a little under two hours to get to the next plane once I'm at JFK. But not only did the plane leave late, "due to air traffic control" as they said, but it took another eternity to taxi it to the gate. As I rushed to the nearby terminal to find my gate, I saw "LAST CALL" blinking on the board. Long story short, I missed the flight. The customer service representative for the airline booked another flight for me, to Rome, via London. This time, the concourse period between the two planes was about four hours. We left late yet again, but not very late. I waited in London for three hours to board the next flight.
As I boarded the final flight to Rome, I prayed that everything would work out. Originally, I was set to arrive in Rome in the morning, where I would meet a ride who'd drive us to the University for free. I thought, "What are the chances that THIS flight will also be late," completely disregarding what I had just learned in Business Statistics this past semester. Turns out, this plane was even more late than the Baltimore plane: we left two hours behind schedule. Seventeen thousand cusswords in three different languages were on my mind, as I realized that there was no way that I will physically get to Rome in time for the last student pickup by the University. And that wasn't even the worst part: the University closes check-in at 5pm, and as I did the math in my head, I realized that there was no way I'd come before 8pm. This meant I would have to get a hotel for the night, and I had zero information on hotels in Rome: I didn't know where they were, how much I'd have to shell out, and what would be the best way to get to them. I'm an optimistic person who said "I'll be fine" as I had no other options - I was already on the plane, and there was nothing I could do about the best airline in the world that did this to me.
I get to Rome around 8pm. Up for about 24 hours and running on 3 hours of sleep, I eagerly walk over to baggage claim. As I went from Baltimore to New York to London to Rome, every customer service rep that I spoke with assured me that despite me missing my New York >> Rome flight, my luggage was on the way to Rome. The story quickly changed once I spoke with them at the arrival terminal at Fiumicino Airport. "Your luggage is still in New York City, Sir," I was told. While I was thinking exactly what you would have been thinking at the time, I was patient and gave them the University's address. After waiving my right to not have my stuff opened and looked at by Customs, I realized I needed to let the family know that I'm OK. But first, I wanted to check into the hotel. All hope was lost when I learned that the only hotel around was Hilton, but I walked there to find out the prices anyways. I was handed two incredible bargains: 220 Euros for a night's stay, or 235 Euros with breakfast included. Wonderful. I said "thanks but no thanks" and decided to save $30 / hour on sleeping by going back to the airport. Now was the time to call my folks. They worry - sometimes too much - but it just means they care, and it would be impossible to survive a study abroad program if you knew no one back at home cares about you.
I quickly found a pay phone card ATM and get a 10-Euro calling card to let the folks at home know that I'm fine. One minute into the call, I hear "You have one minute remaining." What the heck? I expected this calling card to last me at least a week! After an abruptly ended conversation, I called customer service, who eagerly told me that I just paid 4 Euros a minute for the call. Beautiful. Welcome to Europe! But of course I knew that everything was going to cost through the roof in Italy, especially at the airport full of rich tourists and businessmen. After all, I was arriving for two marketing seminars! So I took it as a lesson learned: bring an unlocked GPS phone with you, and buy a cheap, disposable SIM card ASAP.
I finally got a hold of them via collect call, and told them how everything was going. I hope they don't get a bill for $800,000 at the end of the month, but I wouldn't be surprised (I'm kidding, Dad).
It was time to pass some time. I roamed around the airport, just to check it out, when I noticed the first Italian peculiarity. They had five terminals, the fifth one being in a separate location that takes you to terminals 1-4 on a shuttle bus. Terminals 1-4 are all connected, but there's a trick to them: the doors to the outside are closed at random times in the middle of the night. One terminal, said a sign on the door, would be closed from 00:30-3:30am; another one would be closed from 3-6am. I found this odd, because I didn't see any barricades inside the airport - you know, like metal gates or posts that would prevent access from one terminal to the other. But that's just how things were.
Around 3am, a group of bums - me included - got kicked out of terminal 2, which was closing. We walked 2 minutes over to terminal 3, which said it would be closed, but the automatic door kept automatically opening and closing, without anyone even walking by to set off the motion detector, all throughout the night. When I first walked up to terminal 3, an Italian security guard approached me: "YES!?" he asks, as if I looked out of place. "I need to check the arrival times," I said. I thought it to be a much better answer than "I'm a bum from America, I need to crash here until my study abroad university opens." I didn't even know if the security guard spoke English well (it didn't look like he did). He let me through to check the times. I pretended to talk on the phone, and when he wasn't looking I sat down behind a group of people - some waiting to leave in the morning, some were homeless - and read the chapters I needed to know as a prerequisite for one of the seminars.
My brain refused to shut off, and that's when I could no longer ignore the undeniable jetlag that I faced. I would sit and read my text book, look around the airport, and roam outside and inside for some fresh air just to kill the next 8-9 hours ahead of me. But like I said, I'm an optimist. At one point in my life I would like to backpack across Europe. Bumming a night at the airport is an adventure to me. And if I want to survive Europe later on in my life, this would be a great conditioning. The worst part about it was loneliness. I had no one to talk to. I would hope I'd recognize an American backpack and have a friend to chat with to pass the time, but that simply wasn't the case until around 4am. I met a girl who sat next to me and was flipping through printed-out powerpoint slides, which I recognized to be formulas from Economics. They were in English, so I asked, "Are you waiting for AUR?" She seemed confused, but I explained what I meant. She was from Lebanon. She said she was waiting on her plane at 6:50am, and that she was spending the night because her Italian friends said they'd give her a ride at 5am, but that Italians are always late: 5am means 6am in Italy when a friend promises you a ride, she said. We chatted about business (she was going for a double Masters in Econ and something else), celebrities and our home countries. Before I knew it, 7am rolled around and I went to double check on my luggage. "It's still in New York, Sir." Interesting, because I could have sworn there was a flight arriving at 9:30am; the arrivals screen said so. I had filed my complaint about the lost luggage nearly eleven hours before, so this surprised me. Yet another piece of evidence of great customer care by the nameless airline.
Tired as a dog and walking around in a frenzy like a zombie without sleep, I got on the train that would take me to downtown Rome. From there, I would take a cab to the airport. Because I was so exhausted and nothing made sense, I bought the wrong train ticket. The ticket checker person came by. I had to pay the extra 6 Euros for getting on the express train instead of the slow train that I had paid for, plus an 8 Euro fine. No big deal - just another story to tell.
So I got to downtown Rome at Termini, and hopped in a taxi. My parents had warned about the taxi scam, so I tried finding bus #75 that would take me direct to the University. The departure guide that I was given back at UMD said the stop would be right outside the train station. After half an hour of roaming, I could not find it. I saw a HUGE line of people in queue for taxis: I'm talking like 300 people lined back 50 yards or so, with an occasional taxi pulling up every 30 seconds or so. It was already 9:30am, and I had no time to spare. This was already Day 2 of my adventure, I was exhausted, and I needed to shower badly. On top of everything, I didn't want to miss our orientation - the school said it was mandatory. I didn't know what time it starts, so expecting the worst, I knew I had to get there ASAP.
So there I was, with a my carry-on backpack and no luggage, looking at this huge taxi line. The departure guide said that the taxi ride would be approx. 10-15 Euros. Around the corner I saw three taxis waiting on passengers. Knowing my basic supply-and-demand theory, I knew right away these were the crooks. Exhausted, optionless, and in a rush to orientation, I sacrificed myself to be their victim. I asked, "how far is this address?" and the friendly taxi driver with Euro signs in his eyeballs said "about 5 kilometers, very close, very close." I get inside, and he looks at the map. There started his Italian sales pitch. I didn't understand a word, but it basically boiled down to, "it's very close, I'll get you there fast, it'll be about forty Euros." It was frustrating, but just about as much as I would pay for a taxi at that moment. Fifteen minutes and forty Euros later, I was finally at my destination.
Should've taken Dad's advice to spend the extra $400 and fly direct without concourses.
Expectations
Hello folks. I will keep this blog informal, but informative. Let's start right away.
My name is Vas Blagodarskiy, I am a Russian-born student at the University of Maryland (from now on, UMD). I have lived in the United States since I was ten years old. I am bilingual, I love to travel, and I am an entrepreneur. I decided to study abroad in Rome, Italy at the end of my first year of college. I am a rising sophomore, and although I know that most study abroad students partake in these types of programs in the second half of their academic career, I wanted to get a head start.
Why did I pick Rome, of all the wonderful summer study abroad options that were available? Few reasons. First and foremost, I love Europe. I was born there, and I've traveled all over with parents. Up until now, I've been to Russia (obviously), Ukraine, Germany, Austria, and Czech Republic. I thought this would be a great opportunity to "upgrade" my portfolio of cultural diversity. Second of all, I love pizza. You can't eat Costco's $2 slices and claim to be a pizza aficionado. I just had to try it for myself. Third, I like drama. Not soap operas - drama. This was an opportunity to check out the Anfiteatro Flavio, aka the Colosseum, first-hand. All in all, I wanted to go some place where I have never been before, and whose language I don't know at all.
I kind of missed the window of opportunity to write about my expectations of Rome as I'm typing this at the computer lab over at the American University of Rome. However, let me track back and think what my expectations were, so as to not spoil the remainder of the blog for you all :)
I expected to see beautiful architecture. I enjoyed it a lot last summer when I went to Germany, Austria and Czech Republic with my parents. From friends and family, I learned that Italy is no ugly duckling. I expected to see sights of the ancient city as they were hundreds of years ago.
I also expected smooth sailing as I flew here from Maryland, where I live. I've never had trouble traveling abroad before, and I've once traveled to Moscow to visit relatives by myself. This will be my second journey alone. Since I knew the "European mindset" I know that I will feel safe walking the streets (especially because we were told during orientation at UMD that Rome is statistically safer than any large US city). I also speak a tiny bit of French, so I expect to recognize some words right off the bat. I want to leave the city with a little bit of Italian, although immersing myself in a language that I know nothing about will be hard. I had to do it once when my family moved to America, and I know for a fact that a month will not be enough to learn much.
Last but not least, I expect to get two A-pluses in my two seminars. I don't want to call them "classes" although that's what they officially are, because this trip will be more like an educational summit for me. It's a fun-filled retreat, in a beautiful city, where I expect to learn a lot of new things that I will be able to implement at the company I work at immediately upon returning back. The classes I will be taking will transfer to UMD as Business-300 and -400 level classes, which will look great on my transcript. In the competitive age of "you weren't hired because your GPA was one-tenth lower than the guy we hired," getting as many As is crucial. I want to give these classes my all, and that started two weeks before I arrived, when I bought and read a prerequisite Marketing textbook for my Product Research And Development seminar with Professor Sonnabend.
Let the good times roll!
My name is Vas Blagodarskiy, I am a Russian-born student at the University of Maryland (from now on, UMD). I have lived in the United States since I was ten years old. I am bilingual, I love to travel, and I am an entrepreneur. I decided to study abroad in Rome, Italy at the end of my first year of college. I am a rising sophomore, and although I know that most study abroad students partake in these types of programs in the second half of their academic career, I wanted to get a head start.
Why did I pick Rome, of all the wonderful summer study abroad options that were available? Few reasons. First and foremost, I love Europe. I was born there, and I've traveled all over with parents. Up until now, I've been to Russia (obviously), Ukraine, Germany, Austria, and Czech Republic. I thought this would be a great opportunity to "upgrade" my portfolio of cultural diversity. Second of all, I love pizza. You can't eat Costco's $2 slices and claim to be a pizza aficionado. I just had to try it for myself. Third, I like drama. Not soap operas - drama. This was an opportunity to check out the Anfiteatro Flavio, aka the Colosseum, first-hand. All in all, I wanted to go some place where I have never been before, and whose language I don't know at all.
I kind of missed the window of opportunity to write about my expectations of Rome as I'm typing this at the computer lab over at the American University of Rome. However, let me track back and think what my expectations were, so as to not spoil the remainder of the blog for you all :)
I expected to see beautiful architecture. I enjoyed it a lot last summer when I went to Germany, Austria and Czech Republic with my parents. From friends and family, I learned that Italy is no ugly duckling. I expected to see sights of the ancient city as they were hundreds of years ago.
I also expected smooth sailing as I flew here from Maryland, where I live. I've never had trouble traveling abroad before, and I've once traveled to Moscow to visit relatives by myself. This will be my second journey alone. Since I knew the "European mindset" I know that I will feel safe walking the streets (especially because we were told during orientation at UMD that Rome is statistically safer than any large US city). I also speak a tiny bit of French, so I expect to recognize some words right off the bat. I want to leave the city with a little bit of Italian, although immersing myself in a language that I know nothing about will be hard. I had to do it once when my family moved to America, and I know for a fact that a month will not be enough to learn much.
Last but not least, I expect to get two A-pluses in my two seminars. I don't want to call them "classes" although that's what they officially are, because this trip will be more like an educational summit for me. It's a fun-filled retreat, in a beautiful city, where I expect to learn a lot of new things that I will be able to implement at the company I work at immediately upon returning back. The classes I will be taking will transfer to UMD as Business-300 and -400 level classes, which will look great on my transcript. In the competitive age of "you weren't hired because your GPA was one-tenth lower than the guy we hired," getting as many As is crucial. I want to give these classes my all, and that started two weeks before I arrived, when I bought and read a prerequisite Marketing textbook for my Product Research And Development seminar with Professor Sonnabend.
Let the good times roll!
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