The Land of Eire--Part I

April 14, 2011

Looking out over Tralee Bay from our B&B.

             Alright, it’s finally time to get to my trip to the Land of Eire (or Ireland).  The Moosbruggers, Tim, J Jonathan, Maddie and Marie Coulter, and I shared a small bus, which brought us to Ciampino Airport, which is the cheap airlines’ airport.  easyJet flies out of Fiumicino, but we were flying RyanAir, which is owned by the cheapest CEO in the world.  He once proposed an idea to have passengers standing up for the entire flight, with nothing but a vertical board on which to “rest”, just so they could cram in more passengers.  Enough of that rant—we left at 10:50 Rome time and got into Dublin at about 12:50 Dublin time, which meant a very uncomfortable 3 hour flight, sitting next to a creepy Italian couple, who were all over each other for most of the flight.

            We rented a car for our trip, which made the trip what it was, because we were able to drive all around fairly easily—albeit on the left side of the road.  Jonathan, being the only eligible driver in the group, reserved and drove the car the entire time.  It was fairly scary, yet very humorous, as Jonathan drove right through a red light and we had a fairly close call as we took a U-turn after we had missed the turn earlier.  What really didn’t help us is that the GPS system kept saying “re-calculating” in some snooty British woman’s voice and that Ireland’s highways had been redone within the past couple years, but the GPS wasn’t updated enough, so according to it we were driving under/over/through fields, lakes, and rivers.  So, we made the 4 hour-plus drive across westward to our destination of Camp, Dingle Peninsula, County Kerry, which is an extremely scenic area.

The name of this bar will be familiar to St. Paulites.

           We arrived at Camp Junction B&B at about 6:30 pm or so, and were greeted by our host, John Doyle, the epitome of an Irishman—generous, pleasant, and helpful (a contrast to the Italians)—though he’s technically an American.  He was born in Chicago because his dad had to move there to get work, but his dad moved his family back to Ireland when John was six years-old.  So, he has the Irish accent, and is cool and everything, but—he’s a huge Bears’ fan, which was really too bad to hear.  Anyway, as soon as we got to the living room, he offered all of us cookies and tea, and we were able to sit in extremely comfy seats, all of which was a great change of pace from the hunger and uncomfortable seats experienced in the car.  So, we had some time to get acquainted with the place, and John directed us to Paddy’s Cottage Restaurant, where I had the Atlantic seafood chowder and BBQ ribs.  All of us were filled to the point of bursting, as the portions were huge—the cod that Jonathan got, for example, was about 15” or so, and stretched over each side of his plate.  After a couple hours or so, and a little digestion, we headed to the pub, of which there were two within 150’ of the front drive of the B&B, with John, and he bought us all a pint of Guinness, which was only 3.65 euro, and easily the best in the world, which is no surprise.  And for over half an hour I sat next to and talked with this old guy, who had been drinking since probably two in the afternoon.  That, combined with his Irish accent, made his words nearly intelligible.  I understood one out of every ten words or so.  But, I did catch the fact that he thought I looked like Barack Obama…yeah, I was a little taken aback, and I truly didn’t know what to say, so I just laughed in his face. Overall, though, I'd say that it was a great start to our Irish holiday.  Here's a link to a bunch more images from this post: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150167120571956.304159.507151955&l=ccebb903f9

Italian History Week

            Italian History Week was from April 9^th to April 19^th (I’m not sure on the ending date, since I was gone for it).  Anyway, even though it’s obviously over a week, all the major historical and archaeological sites were free—the best four letter word in the English dictionary.  Unfortunately I wasn’t able to take advantage of it as much as I had hoped, but I went on Monday, April 11^th.  I was up at 5:25 a.m. to go to the station church, which was in Trastevere that day.  Afterward, Morgan Rosand, Matt Northenscold, and I went to the Coliseum first and then to the Roman Forum.  The Coliseum was pretty cool, but we couldn’t go to the top level, though what we were able to see was fairly impressive.  Ordinarily it would have been 12 euro for that and the Forum, but, like I said, it was free for the week.  We were first in line a few minutes before 8 am, which was the time that it was supposed to open, but we were on ITALIAN time, which means that everything opens up much later than advertised, so we entered at 8:30.  Farther back in the line we saw the Coulters (sans Dr. Coulter and Maddie) and Maria Z., and we toured the Coliseum with them.  We did get up to the second floor, where there were better views, including one where the sun was beaming through the uppermost openings of the façade, which made it easier to imagine the magnificence of the building when it was gilded in white marble on the outside, along with a lot on the inside.  Anyway, on the second level, we all packed snacks, so we got those out, and enjoyed a nice 20 minute break.  I had several mini cheese sandwiches with what was essentially Hawaiian bread, along with Galetti, a type of Italian sugar cookie.

Road along the Forum Romanum.

            Unfortunately, most of the seats are gone, but you could see how the arena was able to hold about 50,000 people in its day.  You could just imagine the sights, sounds, and smells of the hundreds or even thousands of animals and people would fight and die in even one day of games.  Most of the floor is gone, but very visible are the underground chambers that held the gladiators and animals right before they rose to the arena floor to fight (although I guess the animals were just massacred—many to, or near, extinction).  This place (in addition to the Circus Maximus) was the center of ancient Roman entertainment, as politicians, emperors, or generally wealthy people paid out the wazoo to entertain the masses.  Regrettably, when the emperor would put on games, he would tend to drain to treasury just a bit.  So, we spent about a total of an hour taking in the Coliseum, and then went to the Forum for a half hour, although the Coulters went to one of the ruined baths.

Caesar's supposed grave.

            The Forum is more in a state of ruin than the Coliseum, but there are a few arches and buildings that survive.  There are columns from various temples, which would have been just massive, and the roads and paths there were paved with what must have been expensive stone.  Plus, according to tradition (or myth/legend), Julius Caesar’s grave is right in the middle of the Forum, and people are still leaving flowers and pictures there. It is like a very shallow grotto into which you can walk, with a wall blocking a direct view of the stone covering his grave, in addition to a small opening to let a few people in at a time.  I wanted to get into the Curia but wasn’t able to, which is fine anyway since we were short on time and had to get to the Angelicum for class.
        I forgot to mention on the first go around that I also went to Trajan's Markets with Jonathan, while we were killing time before lay guys' formation on Tuesday afternoon, April 12th.  They were kind of cool, but probably not worth the 7 or 8 euro that it would have normally cost to get in there, so I'm glad that we got in for free. The interesting aspect of the markets lies in what they were like back in the day--each individual stall filled with vendors selling food, trinkets, clothes, and everything in between.  Just to see all that going on would have been spectacular.  Also, our Italian class (with Ana Maria) and the other (with Marta) went to Castel Sant'Angelo, which was/is the pope's fortress whenever Rome is attacked, as there is a secret passage from the Vatican directly to the castle.  There is a huge bronze statue at the very top, which is the exact position in which Saint Michael the Archangel appeared atop the then-Mausoleum of Hadrian to signal the end of the plague in 590 AD.  You can see pretty most of Rome from the top, and you also get a great history lesson along the way, while seeing the weapons used, like an original (I think) ballista.

Guests at Bernardi

Just a quick note of who has come to Bernardi over the semester.  I want to say that about six weeks ago George Weigel, the famed biographer ("Witness to Hope") of Blessed John Paul II, came for Mass, discussion, and dinner here.  It was a pretty neat experience, but he wasn't exactly what I thought he would be.  Kind of arrogant, but interesting stories about JPII nonetheless.  Unfortunately, all we could muster up for a meal was meatloaf, mystery meat and mystery bean lasagna, along with the standard corn salad and white sandwich bread (which I'm almost certain the houseworkers took from me, because after community night, I discovered that my whole loaf was mysteriously missing...).  Anyway, he booked it before the meal was even done, but I don't really blame him since a) he is probably more than a little busy, and b) the wine was bad and the food was iffy, at best.

Our second big guest was Cardinal Raymond Burke, which was really awesome, even though he's from Wisconsin.  The fact that he came at all was remarkable on two accounts: 1. He's a cardinal. 2. He is always very busy. However, he took a night out of his schedule to celebrate Mass with us, lead a discussion, and eat dinner with us.  He was really impressive, and spoke with such confidence about issues concerning the Church, it was reassuring to hear him speak.  Right before he left, he was very gracious in letting a bunch of us get a picture with him, even though I'm sure that he was very tired.

Our third major guest was Cardinal James Stafford, who not only celebrated Mass at Bernardi, but confirmed Liz Coulter.  He kind of seems to be losing it (he's nearly 80), but he's a cardinal nonetheless. As much as I hate to say it, the Mass was almost laughable, as he truly didn't know what was going on at times (if we sang the Gloria, when the intercessions were--Fr. Carola had to help him--and his homily was a stretch).  His homily was the biggest stretch I had ever heard, and was more circuitous than a roundabout.  He was reaching here, there, and everywhere, as if he hadn't prepared it AT ALL--I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.  It was funny at times, but the funniest line of all was "cast your net north of the future"--what does that even mean?  Even Fr. Sheridan was, to borrow a phrase, very corn-fused.  Also, at dinner, Cardinal Stafford apparently said--out of the blue--"Alright, that's it!" and left.  The whole thing was very strange, but like I said, pretty laughable.

The Rest of Switzerland

That Saturday (March 19) was really a recouping day, as it was raining for most of the day, although half the group took the tram back up to Glion and did a lot more hiking higher up the mountain.  It eventually cleared up, but I just wasn't willing to be cold and wet for half the day.  So, Nolan showed me where the grocery store was, and I bought meat, cheese, fresh bread, and chocolate, and had myself a nice lunch while Nolan taught the Moosbruggers how to play poker and blackjack.  Also, we watched the Simpsons--in German.  I couldn't understand what was being said, and it was an awful episode, but it was cool nonetheless that I was able to watch it in another country and another language (although the part we were in was the French sector of Switzerland).

Sunday the 20th (another sunny and warm day) was basically our last day in Switzerland, and we woke up at 7 am, at breakfast a half hour later (when we finally figured out that we could eat the bread, with the meat, cheese, etc.  We walked to the train station and caught the 3:10 to Yuma--just kidding. We got on the 9am train Lausanne, got their a half hour later, and spent half the day wandering around.  After getting out of the train station, we walked up the STEEP slope of the city to get to St. Francois Church--which was locked.  So, we look at the map and see the cathedral.  Then we get the bright idea to hike another mile to the cathedral, down the hill and back up again, but luckily this time we had steps, only to find--it was Protestant.  It had clearly been Catholic at one point, based on certain statues (such as Mary, I believe) and elements from the facade that were taken down and for some reason put in the narthex.

Us at the hermitage, in a tree.

So, we decided to split up, and John, Audrey, Paul, Naomi, and I went off in our own group and headed to a chateau, which simply seemed to be a government building, and wasn't too interesting.  So, after briefly checking to see if it was open, we went to a (former) hermitage, which looked simply to be a large piece of property outside of and above town, with a couple hiking trails, a playground, and a large lawn.  OK, I just looked it up, and it was at one time a religious retreat center, which makes sense, based on how relaxed we were just being up there for half an hour or 45 minutes.  There were some crazy trees, which had roots and branches that twisted every which way, and we were able to climb them precisely because of this--yep, I pretty much felt like a little kid all over again.

My caramel eclair.

After lying down on the lawn for a few minutes and letting the sun warm us up, we went down to a district of the town called Ouchy [sic].  That is no typo, and we all had fun with it, getting pictures in front of a bus stop sign.  We passed through there on our way to the Olympic Museum, which was pretty cool, with a lot of memorabilia, well-kept grounds, statues, and eight columns with the names of Olympic hosts, and committee presidents; but, after seeing that the entry price was 15 CHF, we said "heck no!" and left.  We didn't really have time anyway, and we took the 1 1/2 mile or so long trek back to the train station.  On the way, though, we got lunch, and I stopped by a cafe where I got a baguette of ham, cheese, lettuce, and mayo, with a Coke and caramel eclair, which was easily the best dessert I had had in months.  We caught the 2:17 train to Geneva, went to a park, took a mini nap in the park under the warm sun and in the cool breeze, and then headed over to the Basilica of Notre Dame for a half hour to check on the English Mass time and to take a look around.  After a quick prayer and taking in the awesome Gothic architecture, we continued on our way around Geneva, looking at different shops, saying the rosary as we went.  We walked by the bay, which looked to be very peaceful.  One thing that I really wanted to do was have hot chocolate in Switzerland, which, if their chocolate was any indicator, was gonna be good--and it was.  Easily the best hot chocolate on this side of the world--even better than Italy's.  It was VERY hot, and made with so much dark chocolate that it tasted like a melted chocolate bar.

Nave of Basilica of Notre Dame

From there, we met up with the rest of the group at the basilica for Mass, and as we got close we saw a crowd of protesters, who were clearly Arab, marching outside the wall surrounding the basilica, holding torches, flags, and posters, chanting some crazy slogans.  It was both humorous and a little frightening at the same time, and I'm not really sure if they were even chanting against the Catholic Church or whatever it might have been, but we went into the church and left without incident.  During the Mass, though, I experienced something that I hadn't the entire time I had been in Europe up to that point--a piano.  Every other church has had the organ and/or Gregorian chants, so I had to chuckle to myself when I heard it, especially since one of our fellow Bernardians is very traditional and doesn't think that pianos are licit instruments in the Mass (which, according to one papal document, is not).

Afterward, we took a train to the Geneva airport, where we waited around from 8:30 until our 6:30 am flight back home.  It was probably THE worst sleep I have ever had, having slept first in a neck and spine-wrenching position in a lounge chair, then on the hard tile floor.  Luckily, we were able to grab a pretty good spot, where we were able to make a 'wall' with the chairs, making sure that no one would steal our stuff.  It was a good system, although I was really hot sleeping by the vent, then really cold when I woke up 2 hours later and the heat was off.  At the time it was absolutely miserable, but looking back on it, all I can do is laugh, since it was the most ridiculous situation.  And that's all folks from Switzerland!

On to Switzerland! Days 1 & 2

Eleven of us embarked early on the morning of St. Patrick's Day from Bernardi for Fiumicino Airport, bound for Geneva, Switzerland.  Even though I was excited to finally be going to another country, I was more than a little tired, having gotten up at 5:20 am and taken a cab at 6.  We took an easyJet flight at 8:45 and landed by 9:50.  Luckily, I was able to buy at chocolate cornetto and Coke for breakfast (healthy, I know) in the airport before we left Rome.  Anyway, about half of us (the others would catch up later) left Geneva on a train for Montreux, via Lausanne at 11:30, and by the time we got there, it was cold and rainy.

Horse racing game in the casino.

Now, going to Switzerland was my big idea, and I hyped it up a lot, so needless to say it did not start off on the right foot, and I was worried people would have been more than a little peeved if that had been the weather the entire time.  Also, Switzerland, which, despite being on the Swiss Franc (exchange was $1 to CHF 1.085 ), was pretty dang expensive.  Restaurants were all pricey, selling even pizzas or pasta for over CHF 20.  Luckily, we were able to find a relatively nice place that sold pizzas, falafel, and other things for a semi-reasonable price, and I had, of all things, a Hawaiian pizza.  Afterward, we made our way to the local casino.  The guy we asked seemed confused when Nolan said "casino" with the 'i' emphasized.  Apparently, the 'o' is emphasized or the locals will just look oddly at you (by they way, they were all French speakers in Montreux).  Actually, pretty much everyone in Montreux was exceedingly nice, especially the hostel owners, a married couple who had lived in Montreux for awhile. We tried to wait out the rain by spending a couple hours in the casino, which was really clean and relatively small, but was a much better atmosphere than Mistake Lake.  One of the coolest things was that there was horse racing game, with mechanical horses and jockeys making one loop around the track.  It's about 12 feet long or so, and was made by Sega in 2001.  So, Nolan and I split our time between this and blackjack, while the girls either looked on at the horse racing game, or went to the second level for hot chocolate or coffee or something.

The sun sets on our first day in Montreux.

The rain subsided enough, and we left to look for our hostel, which was right on Lake Geneva, and wandered for awhile before finding it.  The couple who ran it were able to direct us to all the local sites of interest, and are huge Queen fans (always a big plus in my book), since Queen had a studio there for awhile.  After a long day of wandering around, we went to the White Horse for dinner, which wasn't bad at all. The restaurant proprietor/waiter visited with us and was extremely entertaining, and even realized that he was spending so much time talking with us that he wasn't going to get our order in if he didn't leave.  The only problem was that one crepe cost me CHF 8.50, and it wasn't exactly the most filling crepe I've had either.

Freddie Mercury statue in main square.

The next day was, after an early morning of overcast weather, really sunny and warm, a great contrast to the miserable weather we had the previous day.  Although, here I'll back up and take that back slightly, because right before the sun set, the sun peeked out behind the clouds and illuminated Montreux, Lake Geneva, and the mountains in a really beautiful way.  A side note about the breakfast (which aside from lunch and dinner is my favorite meal), is that it was really meager, consisting of Smacks, some other cereals, bread, meat, cheese, and juice.  The only thing is that there was a sign that said that sandwiches were CHF 3, and we weren't really willing to spend that.  It wasn't until the last day that we discovered that that meant carry-out sandwiches, so we missed out the first couple days. Oh well, c'est la vie.  I went out a little earlier than the others and made my pilgrimage to the Freddie Mercury Statue, which was about a 15 minute walk away.

Later that day, we went to Chateau de Chillon, which had a lot of neat history, and was a really cool castle, built in several stages.  The whole complex is pretty big, and once held Francois de Bonivard prisoner, who inspired Lord Byron's The Prisoner of Chillon.  It was impregnable, and was home to the Counts of Savoy for a time.  A funny note is that one of the times that it did change hands, the lords of the castle sneaked out a back escape door that opened onto the lake, took a boat, and got away before the enemy even got through the gate.  There were many large dining halls (one of which can still be rented for parties), bedroom chambers with worn away frescoes, an armory, prison, heavily fortified keep, three courtyards and even a chapel with a private entrance for the lord of the castle.  Here's a link to the pics from the castle: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/fbx/?set=a.10150120629701956.294470.507151955&l=5f52643887

Late in the day; view from Glion.

I really enjoyed the history and architecture of the castle, so I spent a good three hours--at least--just wandering around, and getting lost in what it must have been like to see it back in its day, with the fires roaring and tables full of food, fresh from being cooked over the fire.  And even as I walked up the keep, seeing different swords, guns, halberds, pikes, and poleaxes, and looking down on the various defenses, I was able to envision a siege, looking to seal the impending doom of those inside...I know that was probably more thinking out loud than you cared to hear, but hey, I guess that's the history side of me.

Afterward, we took advantage of the great weather and went up the side of the mountain on a steep-sloped tram 600m up to Glion.  From their we were able to see beautiful views of the mountains in the distance, the sun high in the clear sky, the crisp, blue lake, and other surrounding views.  Up there we first stopped in a church, which was one of only two Catholic churches we found in Switzerland.  I'm sure that there a bunch more, but in this particular part we couldn't find many (that or they had been converted into Protestant churches).  Anyway, we hiked around for an hour or so, in search of a waterfall that we never found, but we wandered down a private path and eventually found the owners, who kindly showed us the way to a public path a little ways through their property and down the mountain.  We eventually sat down along the trail on a part that had a good view of the lake, mountains, and falling sun, as well as a natural sloping ledge, so we could just dangle our feet and relax.  The only unfortunate thing was that this happened to be during the time that I had about 3 or 4 canker sores, which occurred in one part or another in my mouth for about three to four straight weeks.  Other than that, however, it was really pleasant--warm, sunny, great company, and awesome scenery.  After about twenty minutes or so, we walked back to Glion, laid down on a grassy patch, and prayed a rosary as we watched the sun set behind the clouds (although we were hoping to see it set beyond the lake).  Afterward, we took the tram back down the mountainside, then hit the casino later on for a little blackjack, capping the night off with a little fun.

Assisi...Finally.--Sunday, March 13th

A view of Basilica di San Francesco

Alright…I can finally get to writing about Assisi.  After getting up at about 5:45 am and having scrambled eggs, ham, and grilled peanut butter, I was ready to head with about 15 or 16 fellow Bernardians, plus Fr. Carola, to Termini to catch the train to Assisi.  We met Fr. Carola there, who had purchased the tickets, and together we all got on the train and left at 7:45.  We got into Assisi just after 10 am, after stopping at probably seven or eight towns along the way.  The thing about Assisi is that there is a lower town (newer) and an upper town (Medieval).  We began in the lower town where the train station is, and we made our way to the basilica (I forget the name) that houses the original Franciscan church within it.  It really is pretty cool—Franciscans built a small chapel, which remains 100 % intact, residing where the nave meets the transept of the basilica.  We stopped in there for prayer time for 15 minutes or so, then moved on to the rose garden, where St. Francis is said, after being unable to rid his mind of impure thoughts, to have thrown himself, so as to be purified.   As legend holds, these rose plants now grow without thorns because of this event.  We also went to the small room (around which the basilica was built) in which St. Francis lived his life in poverty.  So, we took some pictures, Fr. Carola filled us in on some more history of the basilica, and then we got on a bus to head up the mountain to Medieval Assisi.

            There we went to the San Damiano complex (not really sure if it was an abbey, but it kind of seemed like it), where we walked around and Fr. Carola celebrated Mass.  Funny enough, since Italians take a rest every day for a few hours beginning around 12:30, so Fr. Carola said that he would try to hurry up because they would have literally locked the doors on us.  We got done in time and then went to lunch.  Unfortunately, it was raining, and we had nowhere to sit, so we sat under an archway to a side street, which is apparently where Fr. Carola and others had eaten when they had gone to Assisi.  Although it was still pouring pretty hard, about half of us went up the mountain, taking side streets and alleyways to reach the summit.  The architecture of this medieval town seems rather simple, but it is a great contrast to the marble used in Rome.  It definitely gives it a “small town” feel, because of the simplicity of the major building material of a brown/tan/yellow brick. 

The gang stay dry and eating under the archway in Assisi.

We took the long, steep, and slippery hike up the mountain, and when we got to the top we went inside the front courtyard of the castle, which would have been perfectly positioned for defense against any enemy, as there was nearly no side from which to attack it.  Since it was 5 euro to go inside, we all just walked around the courtyard, sat on the wall, took some pictures, and went back down.  One of the big surprises was that there was a concession stand, which was playing “Crazy Little Thing Called Love”, by Queen, so I stood there (not buying anything of course), and I soaked it all in, much like the rain had already done.  After we took in the amazing views—rolling green hillsides visible through the mist, the lower and upper towns, and church tops—we headed back down to meet up with the rest of the group at St. Clare’s Basilica.  On the way down, though, we actually stopped at the church of San Rufino, which today is clearly not the original, or at least has been heavily renovated.  Either way, it contains the baptismal font in which St. Francis and St. Clare were baptized.  Another interesting bit about this church is that it contains a hall entirely devoted to John Paul II, with twelve or so different paintings of the late pontiff.  By the time we all left, the rain had subsided (part of the reason we went in was to dry off a bit) and we continued our hike of the mountain.  

View from the top of the mtn, looking at St. Francesco

In this basilica is the San Damiano cross, which was one in a series of influential depictions of Christ on the cross.  This was not only powerful because of the beauty of the work, but because we had all learned about it earlier in the semester in Dr. Lev’s art history class.  Her crypt is below the church, and it contains not only a very ornate tomb of marble, bronze, frescos, and such, but also relics from both her and St. Francis’ lives.  Afterward, when we were walking to San Francesco, the Coulters and I stopped off at a café, where I was introduced to the best thing since sliced bread—Italian hot chocolate.  It is actually more like chocolate pudding than a liquid, but it was so rich and chocolaty that I wanted another cup of it, but I guess once was enough, as it warmed me up on that cold, rainy day.

San Francesco is an absolutely gigantic building dedicated to St. Francis, who, ironically, stressed simplicity during his lifetime.  Perhaps compared to many other churches, basilicas, and cathedrals it was simple, but it is a very voluminous building, containing many beautiful frescos pertaining to St. Francis’ life (upper church) and to Christ, Mary, the apostles, etc. (lower church).  In fact, it was built within a decade of St. Francis’ death—the fastest ever up to that point.  We were unable to take any pictures (licitly), although I got a few, but the one thing that I did not like—other than the fact that his tomb below the lower church’s altar doesn’t open until mid-April—is that in a chapel behind the altar, and down 20 steps or so, some no-talent a** clown was commissioned to paint several fresco imitations that looked like they were done in the 70s.  Tim Iannacone would probably call these “happy-sappy” Catholic images, and they really were, as they were completely anachronous in comparison to a legitimate fresco from the 14^th or 15^th century.  One even depicted a guy in jeans, a woman playing with her baby, and these trippy orange, yellow, blue, and white horizon lines—none of which would have been included in any real fresco.  Quite frankly, they should have been whitewashed—from the wall and from everyone’s memory.  The redeeming factor about this room was that the chalice and paten that St. Francis used, along with his tunic and a piece of cloth with which to cover his stigmata, were all in there.

Italian hot chocolate--it's even better than it looks.

We had some time to roam around the town after looking around the church, and then we took the bus back down to the train station.  We left at about 6:30 pm for Rome and arrived at just after 8:30.  For dinner, most of us went to a steakhouse—yes a Roman steakhouse—the Roadhouse Grill, at Termini Station.  I got a chicken sandwich, fries, and Corona, although I kind of wanted a burger or steak—but those didn’t look too appetizing from the look of them on the menu.  Either way, it really seemed like an American restaurant, complete with license plates from each state including good ol’ Minnesota with tabs from the 80s.  It was funny, but exciting to see a little piece of home right there in Rome.

On another note, before I finish this exceedingly long post, if you ever come to Rome, you will always be entertained by street performers—whether it’s a random guy belting out Queen’s “Tie Your Mother Down” on his own Red Special, or some guy doing a crappy rendition of Michael Jackson’s moves in “Thriller” (though he was in the full get-up) in Piazza del Popolo, it can be pretty amusing walking through the piazzas.  I haven’t tipped any of ‘em, but it’s fun to mooch off this free entertainment.

A Side Note... (April 9th)

Before I talk about Assisi, I'm going to mention the apostolic outreach opportunity in which I've been participating this semester.  I wrote about this a while back, but the students at Bernardi have the opportunity each semester to do some form of charity work with either the Missionaries of Charity (started by Mother Theresa) or the Little Sisters of the Lamb.  I chose the latter, which is not so much an out and about community like the MCs, but they are a mendicant order, meaning that they beg for everything they get.  They attempt to give dignity to the poor by begging them for money.  Anyway, I've been over to their convent several times, which is about an hour away, past the Angelicum and the Colosseum.  The first time we cleaned the concrete walls on the outside of what is essentially a backyard patio, and then we replaced these "walls" of bamboo, which covered the structural walls, with new ones.  It's kind of hard to explain, but this is what the little Little Sisters like to cover the walls with, so that it essentially looks like a tiki party: http://cn1.kaboodle.com/hi/img/2/0/0/3e/e/AAAAAv5nUlYAAAAAAD7kwQ.jpg?v=1175881289000.   This was our main project, and afterward, after much dirt and dust in my eyes as a result of scrubbing the walls, we all went back and talked with the Sisters, who no little or no English (fortunately the Italian-speaking Coulter family would come with), and had hot tea with a lemon and frappe--not coffee, but a pastry--http://www.northcoastjournal.com/013108/food0131.html.  It all tasted great, and we took the Metro back to the Lepanto stop, about 5 minutes from Bernardi, since it was a coldish night, and it had rained for most of the day.
The next time I went, we all sanded and stained tables, and afterward had panettone (even better than Cosetta's), date cookies, and hot tea.  The third time (April 7) was an absolutely awesome day, since it was so sunny and warm that I was able to wear gym shorts and a T-shirt.  We mostly did yard work, although several people cleaned out rooms.  We trimmed tree branches, weeded, mowed the lawn (weeds, rather) and had to trim vines so that we could replace old bamboo decorative walls with new ones.  Matt Slattery and I were assigned to the , this was a real nuisance since the vines interwove themselves between a chain-link fence and the bamboo wall that was tied to the chain-link fence.  Unfortunately, not many of the vines survived due to either accidental cutting at the base or because we had to get the bamboo fencing out.
We didn't stay for food or tea, because we all had to rush home to prepare for Maddie Coulter's surprise birthday party, which was....a backyard cookout.  Yep, a good, old-fashioned American cookout (it was bring your own meat), and I brought Italian sausage and an onion to grill to put on the side (we even had a whole bottle of ketchup, courtesy of Mary Burns). But other people brought steak, kabobs, chicken, and burgers to grill on the charcoal grill that Dr. Coulter had pushed for a few years back.  I also learned that Bernardi once had a ping pong table, but it was apparently given away at least 7 years ago.  Even on this warm, sunny day in Roma, we were able to get a little slice of an American summer--just being able to eat outside and smell the grill cooking all the meat--it was just amazing. No other way to put it.