The Pant Bug

There are many, many things I love about Italy: the culture, the people, the buildings, the food. I could go on for hours. There is, however, one thing I am partial to above all else - fashion. When in Rome, I decided to do as the Romans, and I bought the same clothes as they did (at least I tried, there were some that were a little out of my budget...).

I continued in this vein for the entire year and found a small collection of shops that tickled my fancy in a way that H&M and New Look had ceased to do in the UK. I will tell you a few of these as I feel it's important comsumer research: Promod, Bershka, Tezenis, Yamamay, Calzedonia, and my absolute favourite, Brandy & Melville.

I really miss it.

One of the things that I loved buying above all else was nice pants. I don't know why that was, but it started when a friend of mine tried to eek out his pants so that he wouldn't have to do any washing. This inevitably meant he had to buy some more. When in Italy, why not buy Italian pants. Anyway, this inspired me so much, I also invested in a pair.

It was months later, on the radio, that we mentioned our pants in passing and my friend said to me that he gave me the pant bug. Unfortunately this sounds quite a lot like an STD and it made us laugh quite a lot. There's only one way to celebrate something like that...

Fuelled by Diesel

Verona, Italy, 2010

High Ceilings

In Italy the ceilings are high. Really high. I'm not sure why that is because in an apartment block, if the ceilings were the standard 7-8' that you get in Britain, then you would probably be able to fit an extra floor into the building.

Still they've obviously done it for a very good reason - maybe it helps air circulation. I don't know. I don't really care, because on one evening it gave me and my friend the perfect opportunity for a little game... see who can touch the ceiling.

Easy.

No. It really wasn't.

In fact we didn't manage it. The ceilings must have been 10' and when you're jumping from the ground and not something that will give you a little leverage, it really is an impossible task. But I like a challenge and I wasn't going to be beaten, at least not without giving it a jolly good go first.

We jumped.

'Who was higher?'

'I dunno' my friend replied.

This was proving to be an ineffective competition.

'I know! Let's take a photo to see who's highest.'

This is what we did, the results of which you can see below.

Reach for the Stars

Verona, Italy, 2010

So though we didn't reach our goal, we had a lot of fun in the process. It lulled us into a false sense of security in a way because my roommate casually mentioned to me the following day that we ought to be careful about the amount of jumping we do, as the girls in the apartment below may not be loving our competition as much as we were.

All Things to All Men

I'd been in Verona quite a while and I'd got involved in all sorts. One of the little projects I had was student radio. Now radio isn't really what I want to go into full-time, no, that would be television, but as the University of Verona didn't have a TV station, radio was certainly the next best thing.

Still I'm not one to go down without a fight and decided that the solution to my problems was to do a few films and videos to accompany certain episodes of our highly successful show. We did it all - CSI:Verona, Star Wars, Top Gear - they may not have gone viral, but they were so much fun to film.

Having said all of this, we were limited by a number of issues:

1. We were using my poxy digital camera that makes people sound like they're lisping when they talk.

2. We were using very basic editing software - no Oscar nominations for us.

3. We were in Verona.

Now why does being in Verona hamper our chances at making a decent film? Locations.

Fair enough CSI:Verona was set in Verona, but Star Wars wasn't. We had to trawl the city looking for the Death Star, Cloud City, Tattooine, Jabba's Palace, the Millenium Falcon and so on...

In the end we used what we could and it turned out ok. George Lucas isn't quaking in his space boots, but considering the things we were up against, it's not too shabby. We categorised all the scenes and worked out what we could film where and set to it. My friend lived in a reasonably plain flat which became Cloud City, the Death Star, the Millenium Falcon, and many, many more places.

It seemed only right, therefore, that at the end of this escapade we jumped to celebrate.

Using the Force

Verona, Italy, 2010

Teacher Training

In Verona we were there with the blessing of our university and once during our year we were to expect a visit from our year abroad co-ordinator. Ours happened to be an absolutely brilliant woman who was Italian through and through. She had flown out and was staying in a hotel in the city but because she was there for quite a few days, she got bored. Really bored.

We had agreed to meet up with her for dinner. We didn't know if we would be paying, or whether it was on the university, so we went to our favourite little pizza place on the banks of the Adige. We dined, chatted, caught up on the latest gossip from St Andrews and told our tutor about how we were getting on.

She was concerned that we weren't getting a good deal and so we went through everything in minute detail. Once we had discussed our courses, she wanted to know if were happy in Verona, if we were getting involved in student life. I told her about getting involved in student radio.

She was delighted we were making such an effort to fit in and get to know the locals and then I may have let slip about my jumping pictures. This she was really curious about.

'Jumping? What do you mean jumping?'

'I mean I go somewhere and take a picture of me jumping there like a momento.'

'Ahh... I like this.'

'We can take one now if you want.'

'Great I have my camera.'

So we stood in Pazza Erbe in Verona jumping up and down whilst our tutor tried to work out how to take jumping pictures on her camera. We got there... mostly...

How do you say 'jump' in Italian?

Verona, Italy, 2010

Grom! For My Love!

One of the things I did to celebrate my birthday was going to see my friends in Padova. We had decided to go, see the city, get something to eat, then go out in the evening to a club, classily named as Fishmarket.

This we managed, and then some. But we also managed something else. Padova boasts something Verona does not: a Grom. Now Grom, despite having a disgusting-sounding name, is actually an ice cream parlour, making some of the best ice cream I have ever tasted. Ever.

We Grommed. Or rather we had some Grom ice cream and decided it could quite easily be made into a verb: if we can Google, we can most certainly Grom.

What then began was a Grom-athon: we substituted the word 'Grom' into films, books, songs, bands - you name it, we Grommed it. Think of 'Grom Against the Machine'; 'Grom with the Wind'; 'Gromsters Inc.'; Have I Grommed You Lately?'... I could go on, I have them written down somewhere...

Anyway in this vein, I can introduce the next picture:

You Know You Make Me Wanna Grom!

Padova, Italy, 2010

Pontoon.

The majority of UK students that do a year abroad at university turn 21 while they're out there: you start university at 18, and in your third year, which you start aged 20, at some point over the year will become the point where you reach pontoon - 21.

This was the boat I found myself in towards the end of March, nearing the end of my eighth month in Italy. How do you celebrate your 21st birthday? How do you celebrate it in a foreign country? I couldn't have a big party for my friends because most of them were back home. I had a couple of really close friends in Verona, but it doesn't make much of a party with a mere handful of people.

A solution was reached in that I was to have lots of little birthday parties: breakfasts, dinners, movie nights etc. It's like getting lots of little presents instead of one big one. That said, it is always nice to have a big present, and I did get one. My parents came out to see me and asked what I wanted to do. I said I wanted to go to Venice: they'd never been and I could think of no better place to spend my 21st birthday than the canals of arguably the most incredible city in the whole of Italy.

So we went. And it rained. Incessantly. Still, Venice is Venice and it was beautiful despite all that. We got to Piazza San Marco and I accounced that I wanted to jump (not that I lacked jumping pictures in Venice). When I made my announcement, I didn't realise that I'd still be trying to fulfil my wish fifteen minutes later.

The light was terrible and every time we'd take a photo the flash would go, but not at the same moment as the previous attempt. We had hundreds of pictures by the end, but none of them had me airborne. I was actually accumulating quite a crowd because people thought I was either famous, or it was a peculiar flashmob.

Anyway, if you don't try, you don't succeed, and we got there in the end:

Happy Birthday to Yah!

Venice, Italy, 2010

Looking Forward

So in my last post I looked back at the five months I'd had in Verona, this next post will look forward at all the banter that was to come. I was approximately halfway through my time in Verona and things  were getting better all the time.

I felt like I knew more people and I knew them really well too: I had found a niche and settled into it. I was getting really involved in student radio, I was really enjoying my classes, and I was getting out and about in my environs.

I'd had so many great experiences so far, I couldn't wait for what was to come: trips to Padova, Venice and Trento; a few spoofs of things like CSI and Top Gear made especially for our radio show; a whole summer of travelling and seeing new places and meeting new people: if there was part of the Italian culture I'd missed, I would like someone to point out to me exactly what it is.

So after jumping and looking back at Verona, there was only one thing to do - look beyond the city and jump there too.

The Only Way is Up

Verona, Italy, 2010