Tag: experience

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The Path Less Traveled in Roma

In the Garden of the Orange Trees
In the Garden of the Orange Trees

I wonder what it is about Rome that has me so mesmerized. Something inside me surges when I’m in Rome, and when I leave the Eternal City I am left feeling very barren.

Today my cousin and I took a day trip to Rome. We woke up at 7, which was a bit difficult to do since I was out after midnight playing billiards. We did manage to leave the house before 8, and drove to the train station in Frosinone. She had some business to attend to in the morning, but after that we spent the rest of the day free to explore Roma.

What’s interesting about this trip is that I got a chance to see lesser-known attractions in the city. We started at Circo Massimo, popping out from the subway station right next to it. After getting my fill of the ancient remains of the chariot-racing stadium, we had breakfast across the street. I had a perfect cappuccino and a croissant with Nutella filling. You know you’re jealous.

We visited St. Peter’s square, La Passeggiata del Gianicola, Parco Savello (Garden of the Orange Trees), San Bonifacio e Alessio, La Basilica di San Paolo Fuori Le Mure.

Across the street from San Bonifacio e Alessio there is a green door and you will mostly likely see a short line standing in front of it. The person at the front of the line is stooped over with their head leaning against the door, and maybe a hand or two cupping around their eyes. There is a small hole in the door, and when you look through it the first thing you’ll notice is something bright at the end of your vision. Surrounded by a garden of bushes, and far off into the view is the perfectly centered dome of Saint Peter’s. It’s no wonder why Rome is so well-suited for its modern-day life, it’s because it’s completely embraced its history and preserves it in these little ways. If you’re ever in that area, stop by that big green door and take a peak.

Also to note, one of my favorite things about today was a monument at La Passeggiata del Gianicola. While that area has amazing views of Rome, there is an inscription on the bottom of the monument for Giuseppe Garibaldi in the center that I became fixated on. It simply said ‘Roma o Morte.’ Rome or death. And I get it. I explained to my cousin that one day I want to live in Rome. Not wish to, not maybe, I made sure in my limited Italian to pound down it as a statement. One day I will live in Rome. I don’t think I’m ready to in my life, but I don’t see my future without it.

So, to wrap it up, today was another fantastic day. It was fun criss-crossing the city on the trains, walking around parts of the city that sanitized of tourists. It was nice buying lunch at a supermarket. Today almost felt like the antithesis of a day you’d expect to have in Rome. But for me, it was perfect, I did as the Romans did.

The subway entrance for the Circo Massimo stop.
The subway entrance for the Circo Massimo stop.
Touristing it up.
Touristing it up.
San Paolo
San Paolo

 

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Sperlonga

Yesterday was beach day and what a more than perfect day it was.

We left after ten in the morning for the little over an hour drive to the beach city of Sperlonga. Sperlonga is located about halfway between Rome and Naples, so it is not drowning in tourists and resorts. But it does have substantial  amenities for the prospective out-of-town beach-goer.

Upon arrival I was nearly floored by the beauty. Where was I and how blessed was I to be here? Amidst the curving shoreline (litorale) filled with umbrellas and cabananas, stretched into a high cliff and perched on top was a quaint off-white stone painted town. Shutters were drawn open, laundry hung from balconies, and the sun warmed everything it touched. I thought these places only existed in Disney movies and Buzzfeed Top 13 Places to See Before You Die lists.

But no, behold, my feet were firmly planted (or sinking) into the sand. My eyes marveled at this natural and man-made vista. I told my company that this was surely a dream (sogno). They shrugged and remarked it was alright. Alright?! Well this ‘alright’ is perfect for me.

My company also agreed on that the water was cold. They dipped their toes in, wrapped their hands around their folded arms and retreated back to our setup. When I tested out the water with my toe I turned to look at them as if they were crazy. The water was the temperature of bath-water. But I suppose that is after a life-long rendezvous with the frigid and dark New York Atlantic Ocean anything 10 degrees warmer would surely feel like a different world.

How could I ever see the beaches at my home as beautiful?

The water was divinely clear. I waded all the way to my waist and could still see my feet as if I was looking at them in the shower. There was no seaweed to send shivers down my spine when it brushed on the back of my leg, no shells to cut into the bottoms of my feet, and the only rocks were big boulders clustered together in one section. Little tiger-striped fish swam by my toes, and if I neared the rocks I could see little crabs (granchi) scuttling around them. The waves were gentle and the sky was clear. I spent long periods of time in the water after laying out in the sun.

One of my favorite parts of the day was just going for a swim by myself. I am a little scared of swimming in ocean water by myself, but I did it anyway. It was wonderful to dive (tuffarsi) under the surface, the immersion made me feel as if I was a part of the ocean.

After a few hours at the beach we ventured up to a little look-out point. It gave us a great view of the beach, the city, and the serenity of this little world. It’s difficult to put into words the feeling I got when looking out into the vastness. I suppose sometimes we don’t have words to describe what we see and what we feel because it’s just meant for us. And I will cherish my little moment of paradise standing at the tip of the cliff for as long as I live.

Now enjoy a few pictures so I can really punch you in the face with jealousy.

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Some of the view from the cliff.
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Here I am looking pensively out into the void.
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I waded to my waist with my camera to take this picture of the town perched on the cliff.

 

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Day 3, Pace.

Today was quiet. We did a lot in the past two days so waking up a little later and just taking the time to enjoy my surroundings was great. It was raining on/off in the morning, so we were also hesitant to get caught in a storm.

It stared slow with a simple breakfast of cereal, yogurt, and of course, espresso. I Skyped with my sister and my dad in the late morning. They were still groggy from sleep. My dad seemed thrilled to chat with me.

But the rest of the day turned out great.

We drove to a look-up point where I snapped a few shots of the beautiful vista.

After we trekked up the mountains to Fibreno, a town in Italy with a beautiful nature preserve and lake. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking down the path and admiring the intense clear blue of the lake and its inhabitants. We sat down at Chateau Lago for a drink and watched the rest of the afternoon roll by. My cousin described it as, ‘pace in scenario,’ peace in scenery. We sipped our beers slowly and let the wind carry our conversation.

At the Chateau the drink menu had a little reminder from my actual home. Long Island Iced Tea was on the menu. I didn’t order it but it’s funny seeing the name so far from home.

I couldn’t help but think how different the air up in the mountains is here. I think because back at home when we travel upstate to where there are mountains, the air feels heavy in a way. Here the air stays the same no matter what altitude. And speaking of how hilly and narrow the roads are, while we speed down them in Alfa Romeo’s and FIAT’s, you don’t get that light-headed, stomach-in-your-throat feeling you would driving on our mountains. I wonder what is this wonderful sorcery.

Tomorrow my journey north to the medieval town of Viterbo starts. My cousin wants to drive me there but I feel it’s too imposing and insist on taking the train. Let’s see who wins this.

Hey look "Long Island.'
Hey look “Long Island’.
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A panorama of Lago di Fibreno, click through for better quality.
In front of the house
In front of the house.
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East Side Access!

Here I am inside the East Side Access Tunnel, Manhattan side of the project.

 

The East Side Access Tunnel trip was incredibly fascinating and I learned so much.  To reiterate, the East Side Access is a project connecting the LIRR to Grand Central Station.  The LIRR only goes to Penn Station, which leaves many commuters with a long journey to work.  Creating this project by adding three new tracks that will use the 63rd street tunnel, which was built in the late 60s and 70s and nicknamed the ‘tunnel to nowhere,’ even though it will be serving this project.  The F train uses the two upper tracks of the tunnel, while the lower two tracks have been unused.  They will be used by the East Side Access trains once this project is completed.

We first toured the Queens side, which is less complete.  The Queens side is more complicated then the Manhattan side because they water table is only 10 feet below ground, which Manhattan is solid rock.  They are working on finishing excavating the tunnels and then connecting them in the break section.  We didn’t get a chance to see an actual tunnel boring machine (TBM) since our tour was running late.  The TBM’s are apparently ginormous and its job is to excavate a circular cross-section.  The excavation is then lined with gigantic concrete slabs, which serve as the basis of the tunnel.  There’s about 2,400 workers and the project has been in progress for 10 years.  Completion is not expected until 2019, mostly due to financial and budgeting problems.  There has only been 1 death in

The top three tunnels are ‘revenue,’ which means passenger trains will be using those, and the fourth one, hard to see, but it’s on the bottom moves trains to their needed locations.’

 

When we went to the Manhattan side, my best comparison is to an alien planet.  It’s super dark and dusty, and completely muddy.  The temporary lights only illuminate sections being worked on, and in every direction you can see the eerie glow of them, and some huge machine tearing through dirt, or drilling, or something else that needs to be done.

Here’s a tunnel being worked on, I believed this one leads down to a would-be subway platform.

Here’s a tunnel being worked on, I believed this one leads down to a would-be subway platform.

 

 

Doesn’t this look so eerie? Wish I brought my better camera to capture its’ craziness.

 

I wish I brought my better D-SLR camera to snag better quality shots but I was afraid of it getting damaged or dirty, I did not know what to expect.  When we were in the Manhattan tunnels, we were not allowed to use flash for two reasons: 1. The air was so dusty. 2. A camera flash might confuse the workers of a blast, which can be very dangerous to them.

One of my favorite parts was returning to the surface after the Manhattan trip. I had forgotten after we had taken the subway from Queens to Grand Central that we entered the site from a specialized personnel door in the terminal.  To think that this other planet of construction was just a few hundred feet from the elegant Grand Central station was just… unbelievable.  It definitely contributed to the feeling of being on another planet.

The workers are also all over the world and are highly specialized and many of the machines used are also from all parts of the world, mainly Germany.  It was also good for me to see four female workers, all engineers, and despite the dirty workplace, they looked great.

The East Side Access Tunnel project was definitely a once in a lifetime experience for me.  It is currently the biggest kind of it’s project in North America, and to witness the creation of something that will serve thousands of tri-state area residents and travelers is an awesome feeling.

This is an artists’ rendering of what the terminal and platform addition sto Grand Central will look like.
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So honored.

My editor called me into his office today to talk about a little field trip I get to go on.

For years, the LIRR and MTA have been working on creating an East Side Access Tunnel.  Lots of Long Island commuters work on the east side of NYC but have to go all the way to the west side of the city to Penn Station because there is no stop before then.

The East Side Access Tunnel will stop of course on the east side, and then I believe direct to Grand Central Station.

The LIRR/MTA have invited my paper to tour the tunnels in progress, which are not expected to be completed until 2019.

So on June 27th I get the opportunity to tour the tunnel.  This is a privilege!  Few people have ever gone down there besides the workers.

I’m truly blessed!

And on June 30th I’m going sky diving for the first time, but that is a present my sister and brother chipped in for.  Spectacular.

I feel really comfortable here and am so grateful to have found this internship.  Now back to work! 😛

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Nerves!

Today I handed in my first article.  It was a different experience than handing it into a professor or peer to edit, grade, and return.

I sat at my editor’s desk as he read out-loud my article.  I couldn’t help but already nit-pick things that I could of changed, and small mistakes that I had made out of being nervous.

Despite my heart lodging itself in my throat the whole time, it wasn’t that bad of an experience.  My professors always spoke of this experience.  That there own articles would be pulled apart and marked up unbelievably.  I had a couple of word-agreement mistakes, and needed to shift some information around but other than that the editor said my article was good.

What a relief!

So I survived my first newspaper editing experience.  I have had plenty of articles edited, all of them have been, and a every article should, but this one was new.

I’m glad I didn’t cry!

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Wrote this last semester

I had to write a tragedy article for a class last semester, so I chose my dad.   Obviously I can’t publish it but I thought it would be nice to share.

Enjoy!

________

by Laura Cerrone

Angelo Cerrone does not like to remember his near-death experience 35 years ago. So much so, his wife barely knew it even happened.

In 1976, Cerrone was 22 years old, working for the aviation service company Allied at John F. Kennedy International Airport in Jamaica, Queens. He was assigned to troubleshoot a company bus that would not turn on. Cerrone recalls the only other person was the bus driver, one with no knowledge on fixing a vehicle.

“I troubleshooted the vehicle and it still wouldn’t start, the battery was okay, so I knew the problem was elsewhere.” said Cerrone.

He proceeded to inspect the undercarriage of the vehicle. He had instructed the driver to stay in the driver’s seat with the bus in park and his foot on the brake. Cerrone remembers the moment the bus turned on – and suddenly it began to move, dragging him underneath as the driver pulled away.

“It was a burning pain. It was like a hot rash. Like I was set on fire.”

Cerrone gripped onto the bus’ chassis. “If I were to let go I would’ve been run over.”

He was dragged almost 20 feet before his screams were heard by the driver. In a matter of minutes an ambulance arrived and took the young man to Peninsula General Hospital.

For Cerrone this could have been the end to his life, or the end to his dreams working in the airline industry. As a young boy, Cerrone grew up in post-World War II rural Italy. He lived on a farm where he shared a room with four other siblings, and used an outhouse. When his father brought him home a broken bike, Cerrone fixed it. When he moved to the United States at 13, he saw opportunity all around him, the biggest of all was working for the airline industry, because to him there was nothing more powerful and magnificent than an airplane.

Cerrone had sustained lacerations running up and down his back, internally he was miraculously unscathed.

While physically he healed with a few days in the hospital and several weeks off work, he wasn’t emotionally ready to take on his job again.

Cerrone turned to a friend of his mothers named Marisa Schiavello, Schiavello specializes in spiritual prayer healing. While Cerrone attended his regular doctor check-ups to check for possible infection he also sought sessions with Schiavello. Schiavello and Cerrone’s mother would swaddle him in bandages and then pray to God for him to heal.

“Emotionally it helped, made me feel that God was on my side because I wasn’t killed.”

Cerrone now lives in a house he worked years to build with a wife and three kids, a cat, and two bunnies. He still works for the airline industry at American Airlines where he gets to watch airplanes take off and land, still fascinating his inner-childlike awe.

Cerrone reflects on everything he has now and imagines it could of all been very different.

“The scariest thing about this ordeal is that I thought it was the end of my life.”