Thanksgiving

Waking up briefly at five in the morning I realized what day it was. Thanksgiving. Huh. I thought, I hope the food tonight is going to be good and then I rolled back over and fell asleep again, I had another five hours till I had to get up.
At ten o’clock my alarm rang. Time to drag myself out of bed because for the first time in my life Thanksgiving wasn’t an excuse not to do any work. I had a lecture to attend and papers to write; in all honesty this was probably one of my busiest days not to mention my busiest Thanksgiving.
Usual on Thanksgiving I wake up at about twelve, catching up on sleep that I so desperately due to my neglect of it when I have school to attend. I then meander into the kitchen and proceed to pick at whatever it is my mother is making until she kicks me out and I go back into my room and then hop in the shower.

Relaxing and taking my time I pick out an outfit that is usually fall colours based, browns and oranges most likely.

Eventually my mother calls me down and I do something to contribute, usually just taking things out of the oven and then I sit down and play with my dog, Juniper.

While the food is just finishing up in the oven my mother usually pours my siblings and I a glass of wine, progressing in size reflecting age while my dad talks about the history of Thanksgiving and I feed my dog food when he isn’t looking.

Around four the food is finally ready and we all go into the dinning room, which is never used unless we have company or holiday meals. My mother says grace, again a tradition that only occurs on holiday meals despite the fact that she would prefer it preformed before every meal.
We dig in. Now, don’t get me wrong the food is always very good but honestly it isn’t my favourite type of food. All in all, Thanksgiving isn’t my favourite holiday.
After I finish the food on my plate I usually go back into the kitchen to get some more and also slip my dog the bits of turkey that I had picked away.
I go back in and my mother usually remembers that she forgot to have us all say what we are thankful for so we go around the table and each of says about the same thing every year. My sister says something relating to jesus and family, buttering my mother up, my brother something related to food or baseball, my dad family and cranberry sauce in the shape of a can, my mother family and delicious food, and then I usually mention my dog, Juniper.
After we finish eating my mom and sister go on a walk while my bother, dad and I take a nap.
Once they get back, my brother’s mouth watering, we have desert, which tends to very every year, but there is always and apple and a pie thing and sometimes a chocolate thing all topped with ice cream and homemade whipped cream.
It being about ten now we all break up and watch a movie and then promptly fall asleep our stomachs filled.
But being in England I missed all that. To be honest the thing I was most upset about was the fact that I couldn’t see my dog. I had just seen my mom the previous weekend and I skype my dad often enough. I’m not the biggest fan of the food but I also knew I was going to get some turkey later during the meal provided by High Point University, so I wasn’t missing that, what I missed was my dog.
So when I was sitting at the long tables with all twenty-four of the High Point University students, a plate full of turkey and mashed potatoes in front of me I felt sad. I missed the smile on Juniper’s face looking at me with desire as I served myself food. Sitting on the floor with her in the kitchen looking just as full as I was. I felt homesick for my dog. Thanksgiving just isn’t Thanksgiving with out a dog begging for the food on your plate.

Venice Day Two

The next morning I woke up to Cassie mumbling, still half asleep, “I counted the bells and figured out what time it was, it’s eight, we can sleep till nine.” I didn’t need telling twice before my eye snapped closed.

By ten we were out of the room. With no definitive plan we made our way first to the Rialto. Since we really couldn’t be bothered with using the three pound map that we bought we just wandered in the general direction that we knew it to be in until we found the signs pointing the way. Wandering in and out of streets and squares, drawn to any shop window that had something shinny or just down right beautiful in the window we found our way to Saint Mark’s Square.

Snapping photos left and right, desperately trying to get the tops of the mob of tourist’s heads out of my photos, I wandered around Saint Mark’s in awe. Looking up at the beautiful architecture of the cathedral. Cassie and Dalton getting bored just watching me snap photos left and right finally got fed and proceeded to hustle me out of the square and on into the neighbourhoods behind it.

Our mission now was to find a place for lunch. We didn’t end up a block away from Saint Mark’s Square before an overly friendly Italian waiter roped us in.  Honestly we were just looking at the menu we this Italian man came up to us and just kept talking to us about the food and the restaurant until we agreed to eat inside.

A very modern looking restaurant with a mosaic of Saint Mark’s Cathedral on the wall another waiter came over and the first thing that came out of his mouth was, “Do you want any wine?” laughing and responding that it was too earlier for wine the waiter just scoffed and said, “This is Venice, there are no cars.” Realised into a fit of laughter we just smiled and said no again. It was just barely 12, it wasn’t yet time for wine.

Not too hungry yet I just ordered a pizza, which was responded with a scowl from Cassie and Dalton who ordered much more food than I did.

For Cassie’s appetizer she ordered prosuto and melon, which is raw ham and cantaloupe. The combination of the salty, courser texture and taste of the ham contrasted with the soft, sweet, taste of the cantaloupe was heavenly. For Daloton’s appetizer he got a plate of pasta, the content of the sauce I realize now I never asked him.

Now when their appetizers came my pizza came as well so when I was done with my pizza they were done with their appetizer, or first course, as I should more properly call it.

Stuffed after eating an entire pizza I choose to just get a cup of coffee while Cassie and Dalton’s second course came promptly out of the kitchen.

Laughing at their faces when they saw their plates I just smiled and sipped on my coffee.

Cassie had ordered a seafood risotto and the looked of happiness mixed with a scared look came across her face which Dalton mimicked when he saw his calzone placed in front of him.

Both of them were already pretty full from their first course but too stubborn to leave any of the delicious Italian food behind.

Watching them struggle through there food the waiters would come by and talk to us, asking us where we were from and such. To just throw in I have to say I love the Italians. Every single waiter in that restaurant was friendly and happy, one even came in and started singing and dancing asking us if we wanted to join. We sat at that table for two hours, laughing, eating and conversing on and off with the waiters.

Finally, with a sad look on both of their faces Cassie and Dalton were forced to abandon their food, half eaten, due to the fact that their stomachs just couldn’t hold any more food.

Asking for the check our waiter offered us first if we wanted limoncello. No, thank you was our response so we paid the bill, which was 102 euros I might add and were about to be on our when we were offered the limoncello again. Confused about what it really was, other than the fact that it was alcoholic. Finally giving into the waiter we ordered one. It was kind of awful, but at the same time not terrible. I really just tasted like a lemon head dropped in vodka, but it was thick, like someone added syrup to it. With a smile at our reaction to the drink the waiter told us it was on the house. Lunch definitely made up for the meal we had the night before.

 No it was time to go find a good gelato place which I took control of, much to the dismay of Cassie and Dalton who after five minutes of walking were ready to eat again. Picking and choosing, vetoing every place we passed we came up to the Rialto were I took Cassie and Dalton into an artisans jewlery shop were you can watch the owner make the bracelet, necklace, our earings you want to buy.

After leaving the shop Cassie and Dalton were fed up waiting for their gelato and insisted we go to the next place we saw. The gelato was alright, but I could have picked better if we had just continued walking a bit.

Around five we were all ready for a nap so we headed back to the room were we slept till nine and then went out to find a restaurant.

Dinner was exactly the same as lunch, both Cassie and Dalton ordered more food than they could eat and I just stuck to getting a pizza. We stayed in the restaurant till it closed, watching the waiters take the tablecloths off the table and fold them up neatly inside. All in all. Venice was a good trip.

Walkway into the building were we stayed.

Saint Mark's Square

Bill from lunch

View from the Rialto

Our matching cheetah print rain boots, because Venice was so flooded.

Venice day one.

Venice day one.

Waking up at four thirty in the morning is never a pleasant feeling, opening my eyes to the same level of darkness that I feel asleep to the night before my body was doing everything to fight me as I did what I could to open my eyes.

My alarm buzzing my hand flew over to my nightstand to shut it off, my eyes never fully opening. I had to get up, the cab to the coach way would be here at 5:45, I had to get up. Five more minutes, that’s all I need, just five more minutes and then I will get out of bed, that was all that was running through my head. Right as my eyes were beginning to close again and the tight grip I had on my phone started to lessen I heard a light knock on my door followed by the load creak of the door opening. Through my half opened eyes I saw who could only be Cassie, which was confirmed by a short, “Sarah. Are you up?” With a grunted conformation I replied and then the door quickly closed and I rolled over to a sitting position, reaching for my bedside light to flip on.

Pulling out my computer I logged into my email and my bank account. Two days prior Cassie invited my on her trip with her friend from home, Dalton, on their trip to Venice, Italy. Now ever since I was little Venice has been my favourite place in the world, so despite the fact that the ticket was 172 pounds, not including the coach ticket to the airport or the hostel I agreed and immediately booked my ticket. Since I was traveling to a different country I had to get online and notify my back where I was going so that when they saw a transaction pull up in Italy they wouldn’t shut off my card due to the fact that it could be stolen. The night before I got on to fill out the online form but for some reason it wouldn’t accept it. My panic started to rise. I also tried to print out my tickets for the coach to the airport, they were nowhere to be found on any of my email accounts. Full blown panic would have ensued if I wasn’t able to print out my boarding pass for the plane. So when I woke up the next morning and I was greeted with the same response from my bank and no emails from the coach company I feel it was an under reaction when I went into Cassie’s room crying. Reassuring me she told me that I would just have to buy another ticket from the driver and then if I couldn’t get things worked out with my bank she would spot me money and I would just convert it and pay her back in pounds when we got back to England. There was no way I wasn’t going to go after I paid 172 pounds for a plane ticket.

The coach departed for the station at 6:30 and brought to London Stansted airport and 10:15 for our 12:40 flight. We checked our one bag and made our way through security.

Now the day before, because the news and everyone we talked to said the Venice was flooded up to our ankles, Cassie and I went to Primark to buy rain boots. When we got there we had four styles to choose from. The first were these hot pink ankle rain boots with a black bow, the second were covered with the union jack which were intertwined with regal crowns and hearts, the third were almost knew high cheetah print, and the fourth were mid calf, sparkly, cheetah print. Looking and the almost sickening selection Cassie and I just burst out laughing. We had no desire to buy any of them, much less be seen in them, but what could we do? Venice was flooded, rain boots were an essential. Picking the lesser of the evils we each ended up getting the almost knee height, plain, cheetah print boots which inspired another fit of laughter when we realized we were going to be walking around Venice in matching cheetah print rain boots.

Getting off the plane at Venice Trevisio we quickly hopped on a bus that would take up to the Plazza Roma, which was across the water from Venice. One the bus the three of us realized that we had no idea what time it was. We knew there was a time change, that it was later in Italy than it was in England, but none of us knew if it was one hour or two hours ahead. 

One the coach was the time, which told us that it was two hours later in Italy than it was in England. All right, that settled that and I promptly changed the clock on my phone while Cassie left hers to read England time.

 Arriving in Venice was beautiful, it justified yet again why it if my favourite place in the world. The canals, the colourful buildings built so daringly on the water, I was in heaven just standing there, dwarfed by the city’s beauty and magic.

Not to clear on where our hostel was we bought a map and made our way to Saint Mark’s Square or San Marco as they say in Italian. The reason we began to make our way there was because we were so excited about where we were that we just started walking and once we got into the labyrinth that is Venice we couldn’t even begin to find our selves on the map. Following the signs on the buildings pointing to San Marco we made our way through the city. Stopping to peer in shops and to grab a gelato weaving in and out of ally ways we eventually made it to San Marco. Orienting ourselves on the map we were finally able to make our way to the hostel.

Checking in and setting our stuff down I opened up my computer and encountered a problem. It’s world app said that Italy was only one hour ahead of England but the time on the bus said it was two hours ahead. Now not knowing what time it was we decided that when we went to diner we would just ask the waiter what time it was.

Hungry and slightly groggy after a two-hour nap we just walked into the first place we saw. This restaurant by one of the canals we checked out the menu, reasonable prices, and decided to walk in and sit down. Our waitress was this young Italian woman and I don’t think I have ever met anyone so unpleasant in my entire life. I mean she was down right rude, I don’t think she said more than five words to use our entire meal. To top it all off the food was sub par and the wine we ordered tasted more like watery grape juice. It wasn’t the best first meal in Italy, however, not discouraged we walked back to our room excited for the adventures of the next day.

Day Three in Paris

The next morning was another where we over slept. The problem this time though was different than the morning before. Paris is actually in the next time zone over so they are an hour ahead of England. What happened was my mother and I had just been keeping that information in our head and not bothering to change our phones so when her alarm went off at nine it was already ten. This didn’t occur to us till we were halfway out the door when we glanced down at the clock and realized it wasn’t ten but eleven.

This didn’t put to big of a hitch in our plan seeing as today was our wandering day but you still want all the time you can get, four days really isn’t enough time to spend in Paris.

We began to make our way to Notre Dame and a café that was just on the other side of it. Walking past Notre Dame in this beautiful park with the colossal church on the right and the river on the left lined with the beautiful French architecture buildings was breath taking.  The weather wasn’t too brisk so taking our time walking through this park was lovely. Just like the Eiffel Tower I couldn’t stop myself from taking photo after photo. The gothic architecture was just so photogenic.

On our way to the café we had to cross this little bridge were three men in overalls were performing. One was singing with a cone, the type that they used to project there voices before microphones were too popular, a man on the piano and other man playing the base. And what were they singing you might ask? Route 66 and they sounded pretty American. Not being able to suppress a smile I stood there and listened to them sing while my mom got more and more impatient. She was hungry and the café we were going to was only about 50 feet away.

Eventually she drag me away and we went into the café. Being in France for three days no I have come to two conclusions. The first is everyone in France speaks English and they all speak it relatively well. The second is even though they speak English they wait for you to try and speak French to them first otherwise they will just start speaking rapidly in French until you give them a confused look and a “Pardon?” I have a feeling this serves as great amusement for them.

At the café we ordered two café creams and this time instead of just getting a plain croissant like what my mother got I ordered a chocolate croissant, fantastic as always, I have yet to have any bad hood in Paris.

Next was back to Notre Dame, this time to go inside. Since it was Sunday when we walked in they were in the middle of mass and not just any mass communion. Now I am not catholic but being in Notre Dame during mass is something to talk about. My mother on the other hand, although she is not catholic, is fairly religious and was really excited to be in such a famous church for such a moving experience.

Leaving Notre Dame was another photo experience snapping away at the front making sure to get all the little details crafted into the frame we then walked on to my aunt’s favourite church Saint Chelet. I can see why it is here favourite, it’s this little chapel and it isn’t like most of the churches in England. It was colourful and the walls were covered with stain glass so light peaking through carried this magical feel about it.

On Sundays in Paris there is this little market area and during the week it is filled with flowers but on Sundays the flowers are taken away and replaced with birds. Bright little parakeets and cockatiels lined up for about two blocks and we could hear there chirping about a block away. Rounding the corner to see all these birds was lovely. I love birds, I think they are beautiful, their colours, their chirps and songs, I found myself tempted to just pick one out and by a white wire cage and just take one home with me. Voicing this plan to my mother she just laughed and said, “I don’t think British customs would be to please if you brought a bird back with you. I mean you could probably keep it hidden in your room but I don’t think you would make on the train.” Yeah, she was probably right.

Our next plan was to go hit up the shopping district but once we got there we realized that since it was Sunday nothing would be open. My face fell, I love seeing the sights but I really wanted to do some shopping in Paris. My mother seeing my disappointment assured me that the next day, Monday, we would make time after visiting the Louvre to do a bit of shopping. Oh well, that would have to do.

Next I wanted to head back over to the Eiffel Tower and then to the Arc de Triumph to get pictures of both during the day. Again, I am not sure I got enough photos of either.

To my happiness the Arc de Triumph was close by to the major high end-shopping street in Paris. I mean you could see Carte from the Arc and even though it was Sunday everything was open! I was in heaven shops everywhere I was walking in and out of everything. Now most of the shops were far too expensive for me but we came to an H&M and I just barrelled in. I have never seen one bigger and all I wanted to do was just buy everything. Since that was slightly impractical I picked out a coat that was 50%. Feeling proud of my purchase I walked out thinking, I now have a coat from Paris. I was pretty happy.

Leaving H&M we looked at the time and realized it was almost eleven, time to go back and get some sleep, we were determined to wake up early the next morning.